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 ■I- b r (Print 1C n iii ni t a t i d n 
 
 SERMON 
 
 IS COMMEMORATIOK OF 
 
 // 
 
 DANIEL WEBS T E R, 
 
 DELIVKRED IN CAMBRIDGE, 
 
 ON SUNDAY MORNING, NOVEMBEK 21. 1852. 
 
 BY KEY. WILLIAM A. S'TEARNS. 
 
 Noster hie dolor, nostrum vulnus 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON AND CAMBRIDGE : 
 
 JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY. 
 
 1852. 
 
 
€^t (0rtot laiiitntntinn 
 
 SERMON 
 
 IN COMMEMORATION OF 
 
 DANIEL WEBS T E R, 
 
 DELIVERED IN CAMBRIDGE, 
 
 ON SUNDAY MORNING, NOVEMBEK 21, 1852, 
 BY EEV. WILLIAM Ai STEARNS. 
 
 Noster hie dolor, nostrum vuluus. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON AND CAJMBREDGE : 
 
 JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY. 
 
 1852. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by James Munroe & Co. 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 JOHN FORD AND CO., PRINTERS, 
 CAMnniDOEPORT. 
 
Cambfidgeport, Nov. 22, 1852. 
 Rev. William A. Stearns, 
 
 Dear Sir, — The undersigned, having been appointed a Committee for that 
 
 purpose, respectfully solicit your compliance with the desire, very generally 
 
 expressed by the Congregation, that you will furnish for publication a copy of 
 
 the Discourse, delivered yesterday morning, on the Life and Character of 
 
 Daniel "Webster. 
 
 Very respectfully, 
 
 WILLIAM nSK, 
 T. B. BIGELOW, 
 AMBROSE CHAMBERLAm, 
 AARON RICE, 
 JAMES ATWOOD. 
 
> . . . . " Mag'no in populo ctinl s£epe coorta est 
 Seditio, stevitque animis ignobile vulgus ; 
 Turn, pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum quern 
 Conspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus adstant. 
 lUe regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet." 
 
 " Lticem redde tuifi, DtJx Bone, patrisEi ; 
 
 Instar veris enim, vultus ubi tuus 
 Affulsit populo, gratior it dies, 
 Et soles melius nitent." 
 
 " Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth 
 
 alone ; but if it die it bringcth forth much fruit.'* 
 
SERMON. 
 
 GENESIS 50: 10. 
 
 ANO THERE THET BIOURNED WITH A GREAT AND VERY SORK 
 
 LAMENTATION. 
 
 The patriarch was dead. Joseph and his brethren 
 and his Other's house, the servants of Pharaoh, the 
 elders of the court and of the country, chariots and 
 horsemen, in all a very great company, went up from 
 Egypt to Canaan to bury Jacob. And when they came 
 to the threshing-floor of Atad, which is beyond Jordan, 
 the funeral procession paused, and gave itself up to 
 mourning, insomuch that the inhabitants of the land 
 said, " This is a grievous mourning to the Egyptians." 
 
 A more than patriarchal mourning has just been wit- 
 nessed among us. For depth of sorrow, for the numbers 
 afflicted, for simplicity in the mode of expressing grief, 
 the scenes at the floor of Atad give precedence to the 
 recent scenes at Marshfleld. There lay the great states- 
 man of America, beneath the trees before his mansion 
 door, in the silent majesty of death. That eye, which 
 sometimes seemed as lightning from a thunder-cloud, 
 was shut ; those lips, for whose accents millions have 
 hstened entranced, were stiff and motionless. The glow 
 
had passed from his cheek ; the heart, whose throb- 
 bing was felt by nations, had become as a rock ; and 
 death reigned over the mortal man. No pageantry at- 
 tended the obsequies. No cannon, nor mnfllied drum, 
 nor tolling bells, nor ranks of soldiery, nor bands of 
 music, nor ostentatious tears announced that one of the 
 greatest of the earth had fallen. But there gathered 
 around that reverend form thousands and thousands of 
 afflicted hearts. All the morning they were coming in. 
 Massachusetts was there, New England was there, the 
 country was there. The hills around were blackened 
 with multitudes coming in on foot — the roads were 
 filled and the valleys crowded with vehicles bringing 
 mourners from near and from afar. Around the re- 
 mains of the great man, in and about his dwelling, down 
 the avenues, and over his grounds, thronged the crowd. 
 Silence reigned ; sorrow was on every countenance ; the 
 nation's heart stood still. Nature sympathized. The 
 great tree, through whose thick summer foliage the 
 departed was accustomed to gaze into the heavens and 
 worship, drooped with its mighty naked branches to the 
 ground. Two weeping elms, which the statesman had 
 planted and named for his dead children, Edward and 
 Julia, stood up like statues in tears. The forests and 
 shrubbery, smitten with autumnal frosts, had put on 
 their mourning garments, and the sere leaves were 
 dropping on every side. Flocks of birds seemed to beat 
 the air with heavy wing, as in sympathy with the occa- 
 sion they passed over the place. The funeral services 
 were distinguished for simplicity and solemnity. Two 
 
coal-black cliaro-ers drew the hearse, while the farmers 
 in the neighborhood, with eyes full of tears, carried the 
 pall. They left great Webster in the new tomb which 
 he had recently prepared for his last resting-place, and 
 went silently away. Was there no mourning but in 
 Marshfield ? Was there a city, a town, a log cottage, a 
 boat on our waters, — was there a true American heart 
 anywhere, which did not bleed with its own and its 
 country's grief ? 
 
 When a great man dies the people are called upon to 
 pause and reflect. When his life has been interwoven 
 with the history of his country ; when, manifesting sin- 
 gular abilities, he has performed singular services ; when 
 the existing; heig;ht of national elevation could never, 
 to human appearance, have been attained without him ; 
 when at length he is summoned away from his earthly 
 scene of action, it becomes his bereaved fellow-country- 
 men to review his life, contemplate his character, and 
 render thanks to God for his powers and good deeds. 
 
 Daniel Webster was born on the 18th of January, 
 1782, and was seventy years old when he died. His 
 lineage was of the hardy yeomanry of New-Hampshire. 
 Nurtured in the healthfid toils of an almost frontier 
 farmer, — in addition to the opportunities of a country 
 school kept but a few weeks in the year, — he was edu- 
 cated with Bible and Catechism, Ijy the counsels and 
 spirit of a religious home. When about fifteen years of 
 age, he began to prepare for college. After a few 
 months' study in Exeter Academy, and a few months' 
 
8 
 
 more in the family of Eev. Mr. Wood, of Boscawen, lie 
 entered Dartmouth. Having completed his course with 
 resiDCctability, though his term of study was somewhat 
 interrupted by the necessity of school-keeping to defray 
 expenses, and having given many indications of splendid 
 powers, he took the regular degree of Bachelor of Arts 
 in his twentieth year. He united with the church of 
 Christ at an early age, and at one time thought of enter- 
 ing the ministry, but on the whole decided for the law. 
 Having acquired the rudiments of his profession, by 
 hard, though somewhat broken study, in 1804 he entered 
 the office of Christopher Gore, in Boston. He began 
 to practise law in Boscawen in 1805. He removed to 
 Portsmouth in 1807, where he remained an ormament 
 of the bar nine years. While at Portsmouth, he was 
 elected to Congress in 1812, and re-elected in 1814. 
 Here he laid the foundations of his fame. In 1816, he 
 removed to Boston. In 1818, he argued the Dartmouth 
 College case, which placed him in the first rank of his 
 profession. In 1820, he was chosen a member of the 
 Convention in Massachusetts for revising our State Con- 
 stitution. The published minutes of that assembly do 
 him honor. The same year, Dec. 2 2d, he delivered his 
 address at Plymouth, on occasion of the second centen- 
 nial from the first landing of our fathers. That master- 
 piece of wisdom and eloquence, what school-boy cannot 
 repeat many of its brilliant passages ? Need I rehearse 
 the story of his life and achievements farther? The 
 oration at the laying of the corner-stone of Bunker Hill 
 Monument; the eulogy on Adams and Jeflerson; the 
 
9 
 
 great speech of 1830, on Avliat was called Foot's resolu- 
 tion; the speeches which followed, and, in 1832, over- 
 whelmed the doctrine of nullification ; his services when 
 Secretary of State during President Tyler's adminis- 
 tration — in reference to the uortlieasteni Ijoundary 
 question ; in suppressing the slave trade on the coast of 
 Africa; surmounting;: national dilticulties of lono- stand- 
 ing; opening important commercial relations with China; 
 securing the recognition of the independence of the 
 Sandwich Islands ; his agency during Mr. Polk's admin- 
 istration in settling the Oregon question ; his almost 
 superhuman efforts to preserve the integrity of the 
 Union after the death of President Taylor and duriijg 
 the agitations of the last few years; together with re- 
 cent achievements as a second time Secretary of State 
 — all these are flimiliar to every intelligent citizen. His 
 closing days, the strong man bowing himself beneath 
 the blow of supposed ingratitude and the power of 
 disease, his parting counsels, his sublime death, — who 
 needs information on these topics when the newspapers 
 are echoing and re-echoing them through the land, and 
 the providence of God is impressing them on the mem- 
 ory in lines too deep ever to be erased? 
 
 Let us look at some of the elements of that greatness 
 which we are now contemplating. 
 
 Mr. Webster was remarkable for penetration and 
 
 comprehension, for analysis, clear arrangement and 
 
 statement. He would fix his large powers on a subject 
 
 as he fixed his large burning eyes upon an object. He 
 
 2 
 
10 
 
 would look into a subject, look through it, look around 
 it, master it. He would see it in its consequences ; and 
 foretell the results of measures, and the future move- 
 ments of society with an almost more than mortal jDre- 
 science. His comprehensiveness was as singular as his 
 penetration. There are many who have ability to grasp 
 the whole of a small subject, or some entire fragment 
 of a great subject, but they cannot see the small subject 
 in its great relations, nor the great subject in its remote 
 conclusions. Like men in a thick fog, they see distinctly 
 that which is just around them, but all is darkness be- 
 yond the narrow horizon of their vision. Hence, while 
 they speak honestly, and their reasonings seem specious 
 in certain limited directions, they constantly stumble 
 where the consequences of actions are felt over a wide 
 circle, and extend into coming years. Thus, some poli- 
 ticians can counsel well for a town, or even for a state, 
 supposing it to stand alone, who utterly flxil when they 
 seek the best interests of a nation. Mr. Webster had 
 the power of seeing over a vast expanse, and in all 
 directions, and far down the future, and forming conclu- 
 sions in view of numerous circumstances, clashing inter- 
 ests, and complicated relations. 
 
 What he saw himself, he could communicate to others. 
 He would take the entangled skein in pieces, and lay the 
 threads in order. He would analyze a subject, separat- 
 ing part from part, till every member and fragment 
 stood ])y itself; and then he would put the separate 
 parts together in such simple arrangement that the most 
 moderate miderstanding could see them in their con- 
 
11 
 
 nections. What he saw clearly, he could express 
 plainly. 
 
 Many great thinkers are too deep lor common appre- 
 hension. They think themselves into the thickets, but 
 do not think themselves out of the woods again. They 
 get only far enough to understand the matter obscurely 
 themselves, and so express themselves obscurely to 
 others. And some minds suppose thoughts obscurely 
 expressed to be great thoughts, and their authors great 
 men ; simply because they themselves cannot under- 
 stand them. Mr. Webster always thought himself 
 through. His views became transparent to himself, and 
 then, in that plain English of which he was such a mas- 
 ter, he would make them transparent to others. To 
 make a difficult subject so plain that even a huml^le 
 capacity shall see no difficulty in it, this is one of the 
 highest triumphs of intellect. 
 
 I think I have indicated the prominent element of 
 Mr. Webster's mind. Its greatness did not consist in 
 what superficial men call genius — brilliant flights, bursts 
 of splendor shot forth at will, great accomplishments 
 without great efforts — though his imagination was pow- 
 erful, and on an emergency he was never unprepared, 
 — but it consisted in a power of fixed attention and 
 concentration combined with sound judgment aj)plied 
 to a subject, till he saw through, and all over it, and 
 could bring it forth into luminous perception. 
 
 Of course, he was a severe student. From boyhood 
 to old age, he applied himself to books, to observation, 
 to reflection. His mind was disciplined by classical 
 
12 
 
 studies. The influence of the Grecian and Roman 
 models is manifest in ahnost all his productions. The 
 appropriateness of his classical allusions and citations 
 has often been remarked. His recent address before 
 the New-York Historical Society shows how greatly he 
 was indebted to the severe trainino; of a tliorouo;h col- 
 legiate course. A single quotation in that address, 
 taken from Sallust and applied to the exiled Hungarian 
 then fdling the land with his touching plaints, has 
 brought tears, I doubt not, to the eyes of a thousand 
 scholars. I cannot dwell on this point. Mr. Webster 
 must have been a great man, under ahnost any circum- 
 stances; but he never could have gone down to posterity 
 as the compeer of Demosthenes, had he been ignorant 
 of the Grecian and the Roman masters. His intellect 
 was also disciplined by the tough theorems of jurispru- 
 dence, by the severe conflicts of the bar, and the habit 
 of accurate investigation which the joractice of law re- 
 quires ; while, at the same time, his mind was enriched 
 by a vast amount of general reading. God made him 
 capable of becoming great ; Mr. Webster made liimself 
 what God designed him to be. 
 
 You must add to his intellectual qualities a quality 
 of heart. Mere intellect is hardly fitted for popular 
 impression. He was a man of strong passions, colossal 
 in emotion as well as understanding. Feeling impelled 
 liim to action. What he loved, he loved with all the 
 strength of his great heart. He loved with a childish 
 tenderness. You see his nature when a boy of fifteen. 
 His father then informed him of his intention to give 
 
o 
 
 lO 
 
 him an education. " I remember," Bays Mr. Webster, 
 " the very hill Avliich we were ascending, through deep 
 snows, in a New-England sleigh, when my father made 
 known this purpose to me. I could not speak. How 
 could he, I thought, with so large a family, and in such 
 narrow circumstances, think of incurring so great an 
 expense for me. A warm glow ran all over me. I laid 
 my head on ray father's shoulder and wept."* His 
 nature is seen in the gigantic emotions with which he 
 struggled when called to part with his children ; in the 
 love which he often expressed for surviving kindred ; iu 
 the affections of his dying hours ; in his keen sensibility 
 to the ingratitude of his fellow-men. With these intense 
 feelings did he love his country ; next to his Creator, I 
 know not that he loved anything so well. This free 
 country, the Union, the Constitution, were regarded by 
 him with a veneration and affection approaching wor- 
 ship. Love of country was an element of his greatness. 
 I speak of it here only in this respect. It is greatness 
 itself It brings out greatness. Setting great motives 
 licfore the mind, it stimulates to great actions. To Mr. 
 Webster, it was an inspiration. It glowed in his soul, 
 gave eloquence to his speech, and made toil in the 
 service of patriotism a pleasure. 
 
 Let us now look at some of the products of that won- 
 derful mind. Of the published works of Mr. Webster. 
 we have several large volumes. He has not, like Cicero, 
 written numerous treatises in retirement. But, like De- 
 mosthenes, nearly all his productions are the result of 
 
 * Biographical memoir, liy Kdward Everett. 
 
14 
 
 his interest in great legal questions and pnl^lic affairs. 
 Looking at these works merely as the fruits of the hu- 
 man mind, as we would look at the works of Homer, 
 or Shakspeare, or Lord Bacon, — and so, as of value to 
 other countries and to all ages, — there is nothing hi 
 the English language which surpasses them. They are 
 models of their kind for all time. Strens-th of intellect, 
 concentration of thought, propriety of arrangement, 
 perspicuity and power of expression, and a certain no- 
 bleness of sentiment characterize them. His appeals 
 are addressed, not usually to the passions of men, but, 
 like the Grecian orator, to their honor, their sense of 
 justice, their regard for right and truth and the interests 
 of the country. He seems to breathe, when he speaks, 
 in the pure, bracing mountain air of duty. There is 
 sublimity and majesty in his mental movements, and an 
 elevated, healthful spirit in almost every paragraph. 
 
 The impression made on the mind by different writers 
 is various. Some interest, but excite no reflection ; some 
 infuse discontent ; some deaden, rather than quicken the 
 moral sensibilities ; and some drag the mind downward, 
 instead of inspiring right emotion. An author's spirit 
 seems to linger about his words and impart itself to 
 them who read. The writings of Mr. Webster are always 
 elevating, always invigorating. We seem conscious of 
 intellectual expansion in studying them. They exalt 
 the mind, and stimulate to great efforts and patriotic 
 deeds. Towering and sublime, the}^ stand before us 
 like the monument at whose base their author more 
 than once addressed the world. 
 
15 
 
 Viewed in this light, let us thank Gocl for such a 
 mind and such fruits. Worthy to be studied by all n;i- 
 tions, and in all ages, they are especially adapted to the 
 education of American youth. Thousands of school- 
 boys know many passages of them by heart, and tens 
 of thousands, in future days, will repeat these words of 
 power. They will be studied as models of parliamentary 
 address, juridical demonstration, and fervid oratory. 
 They will have an almost unbounded inlluence on cora- 
 ino' times. 
 
 And I thank God that the youth of this and of future 
 generations will imbibe from these writings no scurrility, 
 no infidelity, no moral impurity, no irreverence tovfards 
 the Creator and the Sacred Scriptures. Most of them 
 are not, indeed, strictly speaking, religious writings; 
 they are not on strictly religious subjects, but they 
 abound in just sentiments concerning duty, and exhibit 
 a profound veneration for the Euler of all. 
 
 One passage on the power of conscience is terrific. It 
 may be found in the opening paragraphs of the Knapp 
 case. It begins with the words, "He has done the 
 murder. No eye has seen him nor ear has heard him. 
 The secret is his own, and it is safe. Ah, gentlemen, that 
 was a dreadful mistake. Such a secret can be safe no- 
 where. The whole creation of God has neither nook 
 nor corner where the guilty can bestow it, and say that 
 it is safe." The passage is too long for quotation at this 
 moment. But as showing the horrors of conscience, 
 there is nothing in Macbeth superior to it. I know 
 nothing in the language of men surpassing it. The 
 
16 
 
 closing paragraph of that tremendous plea is less terri- 
 ble, but hardly less sublime. Urging the jury to bring 
 in a verdict according to their sense of duty, he says, 
 " With consciences satisfied with the discharge of duty, 
 no consequences can harm you. Tliere is no evil that 
 we cannot either face or fly from, but the consciousness 
 of duty disregarded. 
 
 "A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent, 
 like the Deity. If we take to ourselves the wings of the 
 morning, and dwell m the utmost part of the seas, duty 
 performed or duty violated is still with us, for our hap- 
 piness or our misery. If we say the darkness shall cover 
 us, in the darkness as in the light our olDligations are yet 
 with us. We cannot escape their power nor lly from 
 their presence. They are with us in this life, will bo 
 with us at its close 5 and in that scene of inconceival)le 
 solemnity which is yet farther onward, we shall find 
 ourselves surrounded by the consciousness of dutj^, to 
 pain us wherever it has been violated, and to console us 
 so far as God may have given us grace to perform it." 
 
 Similar thoughts may be found, though for the most 
 part briefly expressed, in almost all the works of Webster. 
 His profound regard for the Sacred Scriptures w\as often 
 manifested. On one occasion he had an opportunity in 
 the way of professional duty, to express his sentiments on 
 the Christian religion and its institutions at considerable 
 length. Most sacredly was that opportunity improved. 
 Stephen Girard, a man of vast wealth, had bequeathed 
 a great sum of money to the city of Philadelphia, in 
 trust, for the establishment of an Orphan College, from 
 
17 
 
 which special instruction in Christianity, and the minis- 
 ters of rehgion of all denominations should be excluded. 
 Mr. Webster appeared as counsel, before the Supreme 
 Court of the United States, in opposition to the will, on 
 the ground that such a bequest is no cliaribj, and therefore 
 cannot legally be held as such. The plea is really a plea 
 for the Christian ministry and the religious education of 
 the 3^oung. In it he brings powerfully to view the exist- 
 ence of God, the immortality of the soul, resj)onsibility 
 in another world for our conduct in this, the divine 
 authority of the New Testament, of which, says he, 
 referring to the words of Dr. Paley, " a single word from 
 the New Testament shuts up the mouth of human ques- 
 tioning, and excludes all human reasoning." "^'In no 
 case," he says, " according to the law of England, a man 
 that has no belief in future rewards and punishments, 
 for virtues or vices, is allowed to be a witness, nor ought 
 he to her He quotes w^ith approbation the words of John 
 Foster, in which he insists that the minds of children 
 ought early to " be taken possession of by just and sol- 
 emn ideas of their relation to the eternal Almighty 
 Being ; that they may be taught to apprehend it as an 
 awful reality ; that they are perpetually under His inspec- 
 tion ; and as a certainty that they must at length appear 
 before Him in judgment, and find in another life the con- 
 sequences of what they are in spirit and conduct here." 
 
 I shall present one or two passages more, though of 
 considerable length, not only as showing the man, but 
 for the sentiments which they contain. 
 
 " My leai-ned friend has referred with propriety to one 
 
18 
 
 of the commandments of the Decalogue ; but there is 
 another, a first commandment, and that is a precept of 
 reh2:ion, and it is in subordination to this, that the moral 
 precepts of the Decalogue are proclaimed. This first 
 great commandment teaches men that there is one and 
 only one great first Cause — one and only one proper 
 object of human worship. This is the great, the ever 
 fresh, the overflowino; fountain of all revealed truth. 
 Without it human life is a desert, of no known termina- 
 tion on any side, but shut in on all sides by a dark and 
 impenetrable horizon. Without the light of this truth, 
 man knows nothing of his origin and nothing of his end. 
 And when the Decalogue was delivered to the Jews, with 
 this great announcement and command at its head, what 
 said the inspired law^giver ? — that it should be kept from 
 children ? " Mr. Girard w^ould have no religious instruc- 
 tion given to a child till he was eighteen years of age — 
 till, indeed, he had left the walls of the Girard College. 
 " That it should be reserved as a communication fit only 
 for mature age ? Far, fixr otherwise. ' And these words 
 which I command thee this day, shall be in thy heart. 
 And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, 
 and shall talk of them when thou sittest in thy house, 
 and when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest 
 down and when thou risest up.' 
 
 " There is an authority still more imposing and aw- 
 ful. When little children were brought into the 
 presence of the Son of God, his disciples proposed to send 
 them away ! but he said ' Suffer little children to come 
 unto me ' — unto me ; he did not send them first ibr les- 
 
19 
 
 sons in morals to the schools of the Pharisees or to the 
 unbelieving Saclducees, nor to read the precepts and les- 
 sons ijhulactcried on the garments of the Jewish priest- 
 hood ; he said nothing of different creeds or clashing 
 doctrines ; but he opened at once to the youthful mind 
 the everlasting fountains of living waters, the only source 
 of immortal truths ; ' Suffer little children to come unto 
 me' And that injunction is of perpetual obligation. It 
 addresses itself to-day wdth the same earnestness and the 
 same authority which attended its first utterance to the 
 Christian world. It is of force everywhere and at all 
 times. It extends to the ends of the earth, it will reach 
 to the end of time, always and everywhere sounding in 
 the ears of men, with an emphasis which no repetition 
 can weaken, and with an authority which nothing can 
 supercede — ' Suffer little children to come unto me.' 
 
 " And not only my heart, and my judgment, my belief 
 and my conscience instruct me, that this great precept 
 should be obeyed, but the idea is so sacred, the solemn 
 thoughts connected w^ith it so croAvd upon me, it is so ut- 
 terly at variance with this system of philosophical moral- 
 itij which we have heard advocated, that I stand and 
 speak here in fear of being influenced by my feelings to 
 exceed the proper line of my professional duty." 
 
 I ought to quote the wdiole of this admirable argu- 
 ment, to do it justice. It was a case whose decision Mr. 
 Webster felt, to use his own language again, " is to in- 
 fluence the happiness, the temporal and the eternal wel- 
 fare, of one hundred millions of human Ijeings, alive and 
 to be Ijorn in this land." But I will select only one pas- 
 
20 
 
 sage more. In it, he expresses his extreme disgust for this 
 idea of withholding rehgious instruction from children 
 till they are eighteen years of age. " Why sir, it is vain 
 to talk about the destructive tendency of such a system; 
 to argue upon it is to insult the understanding of every 
 man ; it is mere, sheer, loiv, ribald, vulgar deism ami infi- 
 delitij. It opposes all that is in Heaven, and all on earth 
 that is worth being on earth. It destroys the connect- 
 ing link between the creature and the Creator ; it op- 
 poses that great system of nniversal benevolence and 
 goodness that binds man to his Maker. No religion till 
 he is eighteen! ■ What would be the condition of all your 
 families — of all your children — if religious fathers and 
 religious mothers were to teach their sons and daugh- 
 ters no religious tenets till they were eighteen? What 
 would become of their morals, their excellence, their 
 purity of heart and life, their hope for time and eter- 
 nity ? What would become of all those thousand ties of 
 sweetness, benevolence, love and Christian feeling that 
 now render our young men and young maidens, like 
 comely plants growing up by a streamlet's side — the 
 graces and the grace of opening manhood — of blossom- 
 ing womanhood ? What would become of all that now 
 renders the social circle lovely and beloved? What 
 would become of society itself? How could it exist ? " 
 
 Pardon this length of quotation. I wished to show 
 you the man whose writings are to be the study and ad- 
 miration of our youth in coming times, and the spirit 
 which was at the foundation of those writings, and which 
 often Ijreathes its fragrance through the dryest argu- 
 
21 
 
 ments and most abstract subjects. How cliflerent the in- 
 fluence of such works, from that of some who stand high 
 on the scroll of our nation's history ! I will not name 
 them. Let their words and works and memories, so far 
 as they are unhallowed, perish together. 
 
 I pass to consider Mr. Webster's more direct services 
 to the country. I wish to contemplate them religioiisl//, 
 and their author, as raised up by the God of our fathers 
 to perform them. 
 
 God, my hearers, is the author and arbiter of na- 
 tions. By Him each people, as an organized many-mem- 
 bered whole, has its design. I approach this flict with 
 sensibility and awe. I seem to see the Omnipotent on His 
 throne, and the ages rolling by at His feet. He founds 
 and brings forward each dynasty, kingdom and power, 
 in its turn. Communities dash against each other, and 
 all is confusion and bloodshed below, but order and 
 beneficence reigns above. In all the workings and coun- 
 terworkings and oppositions of states and nations, in the 
 onrushing of millions, in their defeat and retrograde, the 
 Almighty is working out His own results. If this is 
 taught by reason, thus do the Scriptures certainly repre- 
 sent the matter. Not only was the chosen people or- 
 ganized and miraculously sustained for a divine purpose, 
 but the same is true of all the kingdoms of the ancient 
 world. God puts himself at the head of them, makes 
 them the subjects of prophetic announcement, brings 
 them on and conducts them off the stage at pleasure. 
 The Syrian, the Babylonian, the Median, the Persian, 
 
22 
 
 the Grecian and the Roman powers are especially desig- 
 nated as rising and going down according to his pre- 
 arrangements. They act their several parts in history, 
 and then give place to their successors, preparing the 
 way for that Heaven-descended Kingdom which is to 
 cover the whole earth. 
 
 In working out these results, God also raises up men 
 for the times. He raised up that Pharaoh in Egypt 
 whose name is mentioned only with dishonor. Among 
 the Persians, He raised up Cyrus; among the Greeks, 
 Pericles and Demosthenes ; among the Romans, Cicero. 
 For our Saxon fathers, He raised up Alfred. To Eng- 
 land, in modern times. He gave Milton and Cromwell. 
 To the old Hebrew Commonwealth, Moses. To the 
 Middle Ages, Charlemagne. For us, in the times of 
 extremity, He Ijrought forward Washington. From His 
 hands, we have received, in our own day, great Webster. 
 Three special times he saved the country, and three 
 special times he was himself almost miraculously pre- 
 served for its salvation. 
 
 Looking back on the past we see everywhere God 
 in history. In every political organization and revolu- 
 tion. He had His purposes. By us. He would seem to 
 present an example before the world of a great, intel- 
 ligent, self-governing people. Among us. He would 
 bring man to his true manhood, and by the power of 
 knowledge and religion, universally diffused, and by 
 the benign effects of a free, constitutional government, 
 prepare the way for a fraternity of nations and indi- 
 viduals, to be all one in God. In aiding this object, He 
 
23 
 
 raised up, I doubt not, that great light whose sudden 
 echpse we now lament. It was his special mission to 
 sustain the Constitution of his country, defend the 
 Union from ru23ture, preserve the nation from domestic 
 and foreign war, promote the spread and prosperity of 
 the people, and by his justice, magnanimity and intellect 
 honor free institutions in the view of mankind. 
 
 Some people look upon government as a matter 
 entirely apart from religion. But to one who enters on 
 its duties with right feelings, I know of no work more 
 sacred. The preaching of the Gospel is indispensable ; 
 nothing, on the whole, is of so much importance ; but 
 the statesman who acts in the fear of God has some- 
 times power to do that for the advancement of society, 
 in a few years, Avhich, as a private minister of religion 
 he could hardly have accomplished in centuries. I am 
 not accustomed, therefore, to look on the government 
 of nations as a mere worldly employment. Nothing, if 
 engaged in with right views, can be more sacred. Some- 
 what in this light, the subject seems to have been 
 regarded by our deceased statesman. Next to the sa- 
 credness of inspiration, I am told by one who knew his 
 private, as well as his public life, " he approached no writ- 
 ten thing with such awe as the Constitution ; and never 
 spoke on the great themes which affect the government 
 and the nation, except with solemnity." In this light 
 of conscientiousness, of patriotism, of sacredness, I am 
 accustomed to contemplate his leading acts. Allow that 
 he made mistakes, dissent as strongly as you will from 
 
24 
 
 his opinions, provided you dissent intelligently and 
 honestly, you will not deny that God raised him up as a 
 benefactor to our nation. 
 
 I cannot enumerate Mr. Webster's services to the 
 country. They extend over a period of nearly fifty years.- 
 But when the doctrine was broached that any State had a 
 constitutional right, for reasons which it might deem 
 sufficient, to withdraw from the confederacy, and when 
 this political heresy had been promulgated with great 
 passion and power of plausible argument and consider- 
 aljle success, it was Webster's intellect which broke the 
 hostile forces. He expounded and defended the Consti- 
 tution, enlightened the country, and secured its verdict 
 in favor of inseparable Union, and saved us from a train 
 of disasters which mio'lit have lasted for centuries. 
 When, in 1842, we were on the verge of a war with Eng- 
 land, when difficulties of long standing and complicated 
 character had defi.ed the diplomacy of successive admin- 
 istrations, and now seemed insurmountable — when irri- 
 tation, recrimination and mutual menace and the raising 
 of armies betokened what was coming, and blood had 
 actually begun to flow, it was Webster's statesmanship 
 which brought order out of confusion, allayed the passions 
 of opposing nations, and gave the country an honorable 
 peace. When, again, on the accession of Mr. Polk to 
 the Presidency, the Oregon question took a turn which 
 seemed to render war with England, a second time, 
 inevitalde, it was a letter of Mr. Webster, then in private 
 life, addressed to Mr. McGregor, of Glasgow, and by him 
 coiniHiiiiicated to Lord John liussell and Lord Aberdeen, 
 
25 
 
 which induced Her Majesty's Government to make 
 those proposals for settlement, which constitute the Ore- 
 gon treaty, and which enabled the London Examiner to 
 say, that Mr. McGregor had '' preserved the peace of the 
 world." Again, when, in consequence of a vast acces- 
 sion of new territory, which accession Mr. Webster, fore- 
 seeing the fearful agitations that must follow, had 
 earnestly opposed, the pillars of our Union were shaken, 
 and violent outbreaks and a fratricidal war were at 
 hand, it was Mr. Webster, more than au}^ other man, 
 who secured the passage of measures which saved the 
 country. 
 
 I am well aware that different views are taken of the 
 propriety of his course, in reference to what are called 
 the compromise measures. Some have looked upon him 
 from that moment as " little less than archangel fallen." 
 I have been pained to read in a religious news- 
 paper such sentiments as these. " The Mr. Webster 
 whom the nation mourns is the Mr. Webster of his- 
 tory. Let us say that the last of young America's 
 o-reat triumvirate died before the ides or rather the 
 calends of March, 1850. For what award of sober his- 
 tory in coming time will not say that on the seventh of 
 that month, the great statesman, who had stood in the 
 Senate and the forum as the champion of liberty, truth, 
 and principle, never bending to expedienc}", never 
 yielding to motives of selfishness, never distrusting the 
 authority or the triumphant power of right, was no 
 more ? " 
 
 4 
 
26 
 
 If it be true that the Ethiopian can no more change 
 his skin, or the leopard his spots, than they who are 
 accustomed to do evil can learn to do well, is it probable 
 that " a champion of liberty, truth and principle, never 
 bending to expediency, never yielding to motives of 
 selfishness, never distrusting the authority or the trium- 
 phant power of right," till he is almost three score years 
 and ten, should be suddenly converted, by a backward 
 process, into something worse than we are willing to 
 name ? We may have our opinions of the expediency 
 and of the justice of those measures. But that Mr. 
 "Webster intended to do the very best thing which, under 
 all the circumstances, he could do, few that know his 
 characteristic honesty wdll doubt. The public men most 
 profoundly acquainted with the critical state of our 
 affairs at the time render the most emphatic testimony 
 to the wisdom and patriotism of his conduct on that 
 occasion. A vast majority of the citizens of the United 
 States have adopted his view as moderate, conciliatory, 
 and constitutional. The highest courts have stamped it 
 with the seal of their judicial sanction. At all events, 
 when his course lias been approved by such men of 
 piety and patriotism as the late Professor Stuart, of 
 Andover, and a thousand others of the highest principle 
 and intelligence, — men not in ])olitical life and not to 
 be suspected of sellisli motives, — a little charity in 
 coimuenting on his acts might be pardonable. 
 
 If Mr. Webster had anv idol, that idol was his coun- 
 try. He loved it with the whole strength of his heart. 
 He saw in the Union a blessing to mankind. lie saw 
 
27 
 
 in its rupture disgrace and misery at home, and the 
 ecHpsc of rising nations abroad. It was his oft-repeated 
 prayer, " that when his eyes should be turned for the 
 last time to behold the sun in heaven, he might not see 
 him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of 
 a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, 
 bellin-erent : on a land rent with civil feuds or drenched 
 it may be in fraternal blood." He was willing to make 
 any sacrifices, personal or sectional, which he thought 
 the public safety required. 
 
 In this last assertion you see the motives of his con- 
 duct. And I thank God, my brethren, for raising up 
 such a man. His deeds and w^ords live after him, and 
 their influence will be felt for centuries. His pleadings 
 for the Union which have been sounding in the ears of 
 twenty millions of people, especially since 1849, and 
 who are the representatives of one hundred millions 
 soon to inhabit this soil, will strongly bear up the dome 
 of our Union, and prevent it from falling in awful frag- 
 ments on our heads. 
 
 Some may think less of this service than I do. Some 
 may even delude themselves with the opinion that 
 there is no danger of a rupture, and others may imagine 
 it a tolerable evil should it come. But I look upon the 
 idea of disunion, my brethren, with horror. When I 
 think of such an event as possible, I seem to see the 
 spectral hand holding forth its prophetic roll. As it 
 opens before me, it " is written upon within and without, 
 and there is written therein lamentations and mourning 
 and woe." 
 
28 
 
 The dissolution of tliis Union, — I know not another 
 probable catastrophe so dreadfnl. We have read of the 
 evils which preceded its formation and made it neces- 
 sary : disordered finances, business in confusion, confi- 
 dence destroyed, estates ruined ; the contempt of foreign 
 powers; jealousies among ourselves which imperiled 
 the country. We have witnessed the prosperity which 
 followed. Never since our earth emerged from chaos 
 has the sun looked down on such rapid advancement. 
 Within little more than half a century, the nation has 
 risen to a height of glory beyond what was reached, 
 taking all things into consideration, by Rome or France 
 or England, after ages of growth. Nothing seems to 
 hinder the United States, if true to themselves, from 
 soon standing at the head of the nations. I mean the 
 head not merely in territory and wealth, but in moral 
 influence, and in everything which constitutes the eleva- 
 tion and happiness of a community. But let the blind 
 Sampson of disunion, grasping the pillars of our Consti- 
 tution, bow itself in the midst and bring our political 
 fabric to the ground, and there 
 
 '• Will be a voice of weeping, which shall drown 
 The roar of waters in the cry of blood." 
 
 What should we gain ? Nothing, positively nothing. 
 There is no probability of our gaining anything to any 
 true interest in the land. The colored race, it seems to 
 me, would gain no more than the white. The area of 
 slavery would l)e increased rather than diminished 
 by the process. And where would be our na- 
 tional influence among the powers of the earth? 
 Our commerce would lose its protection, our 
 
29 
 
 finances would 1)0 thrown into (lisorder, our en- 
 terprise would be crippled, education and religion 
 arrested; the conversion of the world put back, 1 
 have no doubt, a hundred, if not five hundred years. 
 Abroad, it would no longer avail us to say, as we now do 
 proudly, "I am an American citizen." At home, our 
 States would dash against each other in confusion. We 
 should attempt new Unions — but in vain. We should 
 confederate and be broken, and confederate and be 
 broken. Border wars w^ould be interminable. Blood 
 would never cease to flow. In the fearful language of 
 Scripture, " we should be cast into the wine-press of the 
 wrath of God, and the blood would come out of the 
 wine-press unto the horses' bridles." 
 
 Tell me not that the many kingdoms of Europe live 
 side by side, in independent sovereignties, and maintain 
 a balance of power between themselves. Has not their 
 present measure of security cost them centuries of 
 anarchy and millions of lives, and standing armies, and 
 a burthen of debt that crushes the people into remediless 
 poverty ? The kingdoms of Europe maintain a balance 
 of" power among themselves ! Yes, and every moment 
 the balance wavers! — A breath turns it — and what 
 then ? 
 
 The idea of living peacefully, under such circum- 
 stances, is preposterous! He talks like a boy, who 
 says there would be no need of civil strifes among us. 
 Could our thirty stars move harmoniously in their ap- 
 propriate orbits, when the great central principle of 
 gravitation had been destroyed ? No, there would be a 
 storm in our heavens, and a shipwreck of the stars. 
 
o 
 
 
 
 This is not all. Tlio hopes of the people throughout 
 the civilized world, are directed towards this country. It 
 is the grand depository of free thoughts, free principles, 
 free institutions. The overthrow of this ajovernment 
 would be the triumph of despots, and the destruction of 
 the hopes of millions. 
 
 I know that there are evils connected with our com- 
 pact which every friend of humanity must deplore. 
 Time and forbearance and wise lesrislation and the 
 progress of the Gospel and the Providence of God, an- 
 swering prayer, I trust will remove them. But the 
 knife of amputation rashly used will destroy the body 
 politic, from which they are at present inseparable. 
 
 No one of our statesmen has seen the dans-ers of the 
 country and the consequences, if those dangers were not 
 averted, with such penetration as Mr. Webster. He had 
 been for half a century in the councils of the nation. 
 He had been particularly consulted, on great national 
 questions, and his help had been invoked by nearly if 
 not quite every administration, whether Whig or Dem- 
 ocratic, since Munroe's. He had come to feel not only 
 a great love for the country, but a measure of responsi- 
 bility felt by no man since Washington. He could not 
 think of a possible break up amongst us except with the 
 deepest emotion. He gave the whole of his vast 
 energies to the work of seeing that the Eepublic 
 received no detriment. If ever a man was sincere on 
 any subject connected with the government, I believe 
 Mr. Webster to be sincere in this. " I own I have 
 a part to act," said he, in his 7th of March speech. 
 
oi 
 
 "not for my own security or safety, I am looking 
 out for no fragment on which to float away from the 
 wreck, if wreck there must be, but for the good of the 
 whole and the preservation of the whole ; and there is 
 that which will keep me to my duty during the strug- 
 gle, whether the sun and the stars shall appear or not 
 appear for many days. I speak for the preservation 
 of the Union." He spoke ; and being dead yet speaketh 
 — and his words will bind our States together, I hope, 
 till the heavens are no more. 
 
 It has been objected to Mr. Webster, that he was con- 
 scious of his greatness. But how can a man be truly 
 great, and not be conscious of it ? Was he not great ? 
 Not to know the actual facts of one's own character im- 
 plies weakness. Nor is there much more virtue in 
 thinking one's self small if he is really great, than in 
 thinking one's self great when he has but insignificant 
 abilities. The same Scripture which tells us not to 
 think too highly of ourselves, tells us to think soberly 
 and as we ought to think. If Mr. Webster thought of 
 himself soberly and as he ought to think, he could not 
 imao-ine that he had but a sinp;le talent for which to 
 give account. 
 
 But they say that he was not only conscious of great- 
 ness, but seemed to demand acknowledgment of it. If 
 this charge carries an idea of personal vanity, I 
 know not a distinguished individual in history more 
 free from it. His bearing was noble, it was sublime, 
 but there was no self-complacency, much less vanity in 
 it. If the charge implies only a desire to be estimated 
 
according to worth, in other words, to be appreciated, 
 such a trait of character is to be commended, not cen- 
 sured. I see it in that pattern of modesty, our great 
 Exemplar. There is no merit in running one's self 
 down, or in dechning to take those positions in society 
 for which God has designed us. On the contrary, can a 
 good man, conscious of abiUty to be extensively useful, 
 allow his talents to be buried, and feel satisfied ? His 
 truthful nature not only requires him to be useful 
 according to his j^owers, but craves to be estimated ac- 
 cording to its value. 
 
 Again, it is said that Mr. Webster was ambitious. That 
 he desired, for some reasons, the highest position of influ- 
 ence, I will not deny. Different men will estimate this 
 desire differently. Some will be influenced in their judg- 
 ment of it by the predilections of party, some by envious 
 rivalry, and some by what they see in it through the mir- 
 ror of their own selfishness. There are persons who have 
 no idea of a possible disinterestedness in such circum- 
 stances. But is the desire of supremacy necessarily vul- 
 gar ambition ? Why does a father choose to be at the 
 head of his own fixmily ? Is it because he is ambitious ? 
 And why, let me ask, with reverence, does the Creator 
 take the highest place in the universe ? Is there any- 
 thing in Him which has atfinity to ambition? Why 
 should not a good man, conscious of abiUty to perform 
 great services for his country, desire the opportunity ? 
 Suppose an individual remarkably qualified to iill the 
 highest office in the land; suppose him to l)e fully 
 aware of his peculiar fitness for this trust; suppose 
 him to love his country, its reputation, its prosperity. 
 
33 
 
 its happiness, with all his heart ; suppose that he sees 
 dangers threatening the nation, and tremhles lest 
 rash hands and unwise counsels destroy it, — should 
 such a man desire to hold the helm of government, 
 must he be set down as ambitious ? I profess not to 
 judge the heart. But while I can imagine so good a 
 motive for aspiring to the headship of the nation, I 
 cannot and I will not attribute the desire of such a 
 patriot and of such a man to mere vulgar ambition. 
 
 Mr. Webster was pre-eminently a national statesman. 
 He had never been a member of any State legislature, 
 except for a small part of a single term. Strongly 
 attached to the principles and measures of the North, 
 a Whig in spirit and political affinities, his mind 
 towered above sectional circumstances and party 
 influences. While he sacredly protected the rights of 
 the States, he saw the glory of the country in 
 the Union. As a national man, he won the honor of 
 being the expounder and defender of the Constitution. 
 He uniformly and religiously sustained all its guaranties 
 and compromises. To the North he was the champion of 
 freedom ; in his conduct towards the South he was the 
 embodiment of justice. Though connected with a party, 
 no man has shown himself more independent of party. 
 Without swerving the breadth of a hair from his integrity 
 and his " recorded opinions," we find him putting forth 
 the strength of his greatness, when the country's good 
 demanded it, in sustaining the leading measures of an 
 opposing administration. On another occasion, he main- 
 tains his position as Secretary of State, at the hazard of 
 his popularity, and with the loss of many friends, that 
 5 
 
34 
 
 he might accomphsh, at whatever sacrifice to himself, a 
 e-reat work for the nation. Since that time, even more 
 than before, no man that ever lived on our soil has ever 
 pleaded for the whole nation with such fervor as he. Not 
 a national statesman ? Who but a national statesman, 
 proud of his great, free country, could ever have written 
 the Hidsemann letter? Where is there in our entire 
 history a distinguished man who grasped the whole 
 Union in his affections with more strength and tenacity ? 
 Were we called upon to present to mankind a repre- 
 sentative of our national institutions, a personal em- 
 bodiment of the great ideas of the United States, I 
 know not whom we could select for this end, if not 
 Daniel Webster. 
 
 Mr. Webster, as might be expected where the press is 
 free and party spirit runs high, has been the object of 
 much calumny. I will not excite your indignation by 
 repeating so much as one of the infamous ribaldries 
 wdiich unprincipled news-mongers have circulated con- 
 cerning him. Never has a public man in this country 
 been so calumniated, and never, in respect at least to 
 his public life, — high-minded enemies being judges, — 
 with so little reason. Mr. Calhoun, for many years a 
 political opponent, bore testimony before his death to 
 Mr. Webster's integrity and honor as a politician and a 
 patriot. That same gentleman, however, allowed him- 
 self, many years ago, in the excitement of debate, to 
 insinuate that something might bo said derogatory to 
 the patriotism of his antagonist, " //' time had aUoiuedr 
 Mr. Webster indignantly repelled the libel, and chal- 
 lenged the distinguished Carolinian to search his whole 
 
35 
 
 life tlirougli, and find auglit if he could which deserved 
 this accusation. He tlien added, " Sir, I am glad this 
 subject has been alluded to in a manner which jui^tifies 
 me in taking public notice of it; because I am avcII 
 aware that for ten years past, infinite pains has been 
 taken to fmd something, in the range of these topics, 
 which might create prejudice against me in the country. 
 The journals have all been pored over, and the reports 
 ransacked, and scraps of paragraphs and half sentences 
 have been collected, fraudulently put together, and then 
 made to flare out as if there had been some discovery. 
 But all this failed. The next resort was to supposed 
 correspondence. My letters were sought for to learn if, 
 in the confidence of private friendship, I had ever said 
 anything which an enemy could make use of With 
 this view^ the vicinity of my former residence has been 
 searched as with a lighted candle. New Hampshire has 
 been explored from the mouth of the Merrimack to the 
 White Hills. In one instance a gentleman had left the 
 State, gone five hundred miles off, and died. His papers 
 were examined ; a letter was found, and I have under- 
 stood it was brought to Washington and examined ; a 
 conclave was held to consider it, and the result was, that 
 if there was nothing else against Mr. Webster, the mat- 
 ter had better be let alone. Sir, I hope to make every- 
 body of that opinion who brings against me a charge of 
 want of patriotism. Errors of opinion can be found, 
 doubtless, on many subjects; but as conduct flows from 
 the feelings which animate the heart, I know that no 
 act of my life has had its origin in the want of ardent 
 love of country." This was in 1838; what would the 
 
36 
 
 old statesman have said, if he had poured out his heart 
 on the subject of detraction, at the close of his days in 
 1852? 
 
 The sanctuary of his private life has been invaded, 
 and foul masses of slander heaped upon him. And for 
 what cause ? It was not done by way of retaliation, 
 railing for railing. Mr. Webster treated his opponents 
 with justice and urbanity. I doubt if another instance 
 can be found of a man in public life for fifty years, so 
 free from the sin of recrimination, unjust insinuation, 
 and anything approaching towards dishonorable per- 
 sonality. What then was the cause of all this abuse ? 
 Allow that the great statesman had his faults. Were 
 they more glaring than are found in many public 
 men whom the million applaud ? Faults there may 
 have been, but why were they so monstrously exagger- 
 ated? Why were legions of calumnies fabricated? 
 The cause of this abuse lies deeper than the frailties of 
 its victim. The cause, as I conceive it, was pre-eminent 
 greatness, which stood in conspicuous view to receive 
 the shafts of envy. The cause was a stern integrity, 
 which the office-seeking and the self-seeking could not 
 bend, a principle of patriotism and justice, which the 
 unscrupulous could no more break down than they 
 could overthrow the everlasting granite pillars among 
 which he was born. The cause was a certain awful 
 majesty of character, before which petty politicians, who 
 loved self rather than country, cowered. The cause 
 was a power of intellect and a power of influence which 
 demagogues and partisans knew they could conflict 
 with only by revilings. These were so industriously 
 
37 
 
 circulated, that the unsuspecting said there must l)e a 
 foundation for them ; and in some instances men re- 
 peated their own falsehood till they believed their own 
 lie. These are causes of calunmy to which puljlic men 
 everywhere, and especially in this country, are increas- 
 ingly exposed. 
 
 The crime of slander cannot easily be estimated. It 
 originates in a certain meanness of spirit, or in an un- 
 manly love of gossiping, or in that calculating rascality 
 which destroys character for selfish ends. In its influ- 
 ence upon the calumniator himself, scarcely any sin. is 
 more demoralizing. It petrifies benevolent sensibility ; 
 it stimulates those vicious feelings which, when fully de- 
 veloped, make men haters of their kind. It is the cause 
 of incalculable suffering to its victim ; it takes away 
 that which a high-minded man values more than prop- 
 erty, and without which life is a burden. To the more 
 susceptible, its shafts are not uufrequently the arrows of 
 death ; and the strong writhe under them with pangs to 
 which bodily pains are in comparison a relief Hopes 
 are blasted by slander. The energies of men acting for 
 the public good are often crippled by it, and their 
 days made wretched. Public detraction is the great 
 sin of the times. The country is full of it; men 
 get their dishonest living by it ; it comes to the inno- 
 cent in a shape which cannot be met by testimony or 
 argument, and put down ; it comes without a responsible 
 name ; it puts its victim to the often impossible task 
 of proving a negative ; it lurks in the dark — it multi- 
 plies itself into legions ; it is here, it is there ; it hides 
 when you approach, and appears again as soon as you 
 
38 
 
 are gone. And there is no hope for the man on whom 
 it Mis but in his conscience, and in hving it down. It 
 is a sin which has no excuse. Worse than sins of the 
 flesh, for it comes from the centre of a man's being ; 
 w^orse than the offence which it alleges, because it has 
 no strong temptation, — I look upon it as infernal. The 
 eagerness with which some gather up "stale and 
 loathed calumnies," — "the cast off slough of a polluted 
 and shameless press," — suggests the idea that, like 
 certain ill-omened birds, it is their nature to feed on 
 carrion. 
 
 With regard to Mr. Webster, I have no means of de- 
 ciding upon the character of his entire private life. I 
 had a little acquaintance with him, though not enough 
 for self-complacency. I know something of the high 
 reputation which he sustained at home. But to what 
 extent he partook of human frailties, I aiii not the 
 judge. The customs of society have greatly changed, 
 in some respects, since his habits were formed, and he 
 has usually moved in circles where a puritanical strict- 
 ness is not always regarded as the prince of virtues. 
 But when I remember that "publications more abusive 
 and scurrilous never saw the light, than were sent forth 
 against Washington," and when I remember that One 
 greater than Washington was charged with being " a 
 gluttonous man and a winebibber, and a friend of pub- 
 licans and sinners," I am not inclined to believe an evil 
 report just because "Gashmu saith it." Nor do I think 
 that a man who has faults is always radically a bad man. 
 There are those who can see nothing in Abraham but 
 his prevarication, nothing in David but the crime 
 
39 
 
 against Uriah, and nothing in Peter but liis denial of 
 Christ. And there are those, to use again the words of 
 Mr. Webster, " who think that nothing is good but what 
 is perfect. If their perspicacious vision enables them to 
 detect a spot on the flice of the sun, they think that a 
 good reason why the sun should be struck down from 
 heaven."^ There are such persons ; but, as a man en- 
 compassed with infirmities, I do not wish to be of their 
 number. Read the eighth chapter of John, and you 
 will learn that the severest accusers are not always the 
 purest in heart. I hold him forth for imitation only so 
 far as he resembled that great Pattern, whom he himself 
 so much admired and adored. 
 
 Mr. Webster's private habits, I have said, I have no 
 means of knowing in all respects. But his custom of 
 early rising and hard morning toil — his clear, strong 
 utterances of truth, always clear and always strong — his 
 uniform observance of all the rules of order in the 
 Senate chamber — his entire freedom from those per- 
 sonal broils and bickerings which sometimes disgrace 
 the halls of legislation — his fine moral sentiments, 
 indicatino; sensitiveness of conscience — his tender^ do- 
 mestic affections — his love of the Sacred Scriptures, 
 which he read through once a year, and which he 
 declared to be the Book of Books, fitting us to 
 live and fitting us to die — his profound veneration 
 of God — his respect for the Sabbath — his habit of 
 family devotion — his constant attendance upon public 
 worship — his early profession of fliith in Christ, and the 
 custom of Communion at the Lord's table — his tender 
 
 * 7tli Marcli speech. 
 
40 
 
 love for little children, and the interest which he has ex- 
 pressed in their religious education — his uniform pro- 
 priety of speech, insomuch that a gentleman said to me 
 at the funeral, " I have been with him under all circum- 
 stances ; I have been with him at great parties and at 
 little parties ; I have been often a fishing with him, 
 and all over the farm, and I never heard him utter a 
 profane word or an impure word in my life " — the fore- 
 sight and calmness with which he prepared his own 
 tomb in the old puritan burying ground overlooking 
 the sea — his unabated intellectual strength, when three 
 score years and ten — his parting words of affection 
 and religious counsel to his friends — his last prayers — 
 is all this like — I will not say what. It is like good- 
 ness of heart ; it is like religion ; it is like himself who 
 once said, " I would give all this world to be sure of 
 standing, on the right hand before the judgment seat of 
 Christ." 
 
 Mr. Webster, I suppose, joined the Orthodox Congre- 
 gational Church in Salisbury, New Hampshire, at an 
 early age, and died, I have no reason to doubt, in the 
 faith of his fathers. He was not, however, a sectarian ; 
 " Depend upon it," said he, " that where there is a spirit 
 of Christianity, there is a spirit which rises above form, 
 above ceremonies, independent of sect or creed, and the 
 controversies of clashing doctrines."* He grasped 
 the substance, not the shadow. So does every good 
 man, however great his preference for a particular 
 church. 
 
 I once hnppened, in the common course of official 
 
 * Giriird Case, p. 37. 
 
41 
 
 dut}^, to preach before liim. I remember his dignified at- 
 tention and devout demeanor. I never shall forget the 
 expression of interest with which he fixed his eyes upon 
 me, as I quoted these words of that high-minded man, Sir 
 Thomas More : "I judge it ten times more honorable for 
 a single person, in witnessing a truth, to oppose the 
 world in its power, wisdom and authority, this standing 
 in its full strength, and he singly and nakedly, than by 
 fighting many battles by force of arms and gaining 
 them all. I have no life but truth ; and if truth be ad- 
 vanced by my suffering, then my life also. If truth live, 
 I live; if justice live. Hive ; and these cannot die; but, 
 by any man's suffering for them, are enlarged, en- 
 throned." To these words his whole life seems to say, 
 Amen. 
 
 I have detained you too long, but I must be par- 
 doned. A wonderful man has just gone from us. The 
 country has indeed been prolific of great men. Free 
 institutions cherish them. But God has never raised up 
 among us but one George Washington and one Daniel 
 Webster. In common with thousands, I loved him; 
 and if he had faults, " with all his flxults, I loved him 
 still." I honored him; he had qualities of mind and 
 heart which drew me like a magnet. The dryest news- 
 paper was full of interest, if it only contained a few 
 words from Mr. Webster; and when any spoke unkindly 
 of him, I felt it as a personal wound. 
 
 Is there a person here who would not heartily unite 
 
 with me, if I should now pause and render public thanks 
 
 to Almighty God for the creation of such a man ? Are 
 
 there not many who look back upon the hours and 
 
 6 
 
42 
 
 clays wliich tliey have spent in hearing or reading his 
 words of power, as among the happiest portions of their 
 life ? The idea of his great presence elevated them, 
 and his good deeds for the country called forth their 
 j)rayers in his behalf To me, I confess, the world has 
 often seemed as a more desirable scene of being, from the 
 existence of that one mind in it, and there was always a 
 melody in my heart, when I read a new speech from 
 
 him, like that which is ever breathing in the scholar's 
 ear, from the best pages of classic antiquity. I thank 
 God, not only for what that man has done in behalf of 
 our country, not only for any intellectual improvement 
 I may have derived from him, but for the happiness 
 which his life has afforded me. 
 
 Mr. Webster is dead. That great mind which often 
 pondered the problems of immortality now knows all. 
 What visions has it beheld! What ideas has it ob- 
 tained of that Omnipotent God whom it had often so 
 profoundly worshipped ! 
 
 Solemn reflections crowd upon us. The great as well 
 as the small must die. The great as well as the small, 
 after death, must stand before the judgment seat of 
 Christ. Of the great as well as the small, God, not man, 
 will be the judge. For the great as well as the small 
 the rule of judgment will be the same. That rule was 
 stated in the last words of our Saviour, "He that 
 belie vetli shall be saved, and he that belie veth not shall 
 be damned." How affecting to hear our dying states- 
 man exclaim, as his confession of Christ, before the 
 country and before mankind, " Lord I believe, help thou 
 mine unbelief" It is good for us to see such a man 
 
43 
 
 humbling himself as a little child, that he may enter 
 the Kino-dom of Heaven. 
 
 He is dead ! Three score years and ten, with a life of 
 mcessant toil for the public, had shaken his frame. But 
 I have no doubt that his death was hastened by sup- 
 posed ingratitude, — 
 
 " Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms, 
 Quite vaiKiuishcil him. Then hurst his mighty heart." 
 
 His heart was broken. Not that he died of disap- 
 pointed ambition. Such a man as Webster die because 
 he could not reach the Presidency ? — the supposition is 
 too childish. He feared the consequences, should the 
 government pass into hands unfriendly to his recent 
 measures for the Union. But this was not it. He had 
 spent a long life for the American people, and when at 
 last in his old age, it was put to them, " Are you satisfied ? " 
 the American people said "No!" Then broke that 
 mighty heart. From that moment, it began to beat 
 tumultuous marches for the grave. No ! it was not the 
 American people who said it. It was the doctrine of 
 availabiUty. It was the admiration of military glory. 
 He wore no bloody laurels on his brow. It was the 
 vaulting ambition of self-seeking politicians. This the 
 patriot knew. " A false chapter," said he, " has been writ- 
 ten in the history of the country ; " " The masses," said 
 he, " are with us." But the masses are not usually the 
 speakers. To the question, "Are you satisfied?" the 
 spokesmen of the people had said "No!" And it went 
 echoing through the country and all over the world, 
 "No ! " — He retired to Marshfield ; — he went out and 
 looked at his tomb. 
 
44 
 
 No doubt the people loved him. On his way 
 from Washington for the last time, as he approached 
 the neighborhood of his puritan home, he had an op- 
 ^Dortunity to see it. They came out from Marshfield 
 and Kingston and Duxbury, and all the region about, to 
 give him a welcome. The young threw him flowers, 
 the old gave him tears, the yeomanry stood round him 
 and followed him. It was the homasre of his neiofli- 
 bors — that touched him. When they came near the old 
 mansion, the cavalcade stopped. "Are you not going 
 down to tlie house ? " said Mr. Webster. " No," said 
 one, " we thought we would go around, and not tear up 
 your grounds." " Tear up the grounds," said Mr. 
 Webster, "I don't care if you tear them up ten feet 
 deep — you must go to the house." That was like him ; 
 always so hearty. On that day, he made his last speech. 
 The next time his neighbors met him was at his funeral. 
 Were not the masses with him ? That funeral day told 
 the story. And from that time to this, it has been 
 nothing but a funeral day all over the country, and the 
 mourning is as the mourning of Hadadrimmon. 
 
 Eest, great sleeper, rest ! The Pilgrims in their dusty 
 beds make room for thee. The spirits of patriots bid 
 thee welcome. There is no rejection in the grave; 
 there is no ingratitude in Heaven. 0, my coun- 
 try, thou hast lost a flither ! Write his counsels on 
 thy heart. Thou hast had a Washington, thou hast 
 had a Webster! God raise up some other such, and 
 we will confess even in their lifetime, that there are 
 prophets among us. 
 
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