LIBRARY OF CONGRESS DDDDSDVflTflE J^^ ..^" «/. » ; ■» c^" /^^ .0' .-J^' A - .,• f> .' ■f^-^- ^■^ n. What were an- cient Greece, or Rome, in the hght of history, without the renown of her heroes and statesmen, her poets and ora- tors ? What were England herself, without the recorded fame of her distinguished sons ? And vJiat can our own country hope to be, if she fail to treasure up, for the benefit of the present, and coming generations, the memo- ries of her departed patriots, and orators, and statesmen, and scholars. It is not, therefore, so much to exalt his character, that we are assembled, as to elevate our own, by lifting our eyes to behold that gi'eat example, illustra- ted by a long and luminous career, which is now finished by his death, and placed high in the heavens, to be seen and admired by all men — like the bow that gilds the clouds, and overarches the firmament. When a public benefactor dies, it is right that the living pause in their labors, to review his career, and contribute their willing aid to perpetuate his virtues and his virtu- ous deeds. Of every great man, there is much that is not mortal- His famous achievments, his recorded thoughts, and his great example, live after him, in the memories of men, and in history. Our Washington yet lives, by his exalted character and illustrious deeds, which have fdled the earth with his renown, and conferred substantial honor and respectability upon his country. He lives, and will live, in the enthusiastic veneration and regard of every American ; while his great example will never cease to instruct and to bless us, and all generations of American citizens. All the distinguished Revolutionary patriots who, though dead, yet speak to us by their courageous ex- ample, will ever live, in the traditions and in the history of their country. Still more fortunate are they, who, with thoughts truly valuable, have been able to clothe them in language so attractive, as to be read, not only by their contemporaries, but by all posterity. The thoughts of a great man thus preserved, triumph over death and the grave, and render him more intimate- ly known to posterity, than could his personal presence? if he were permitted to rise from the grave, and meet them fjice to flice. In entering upon the duty of pronouncing the eulogy of Mr. Webster, it is impossible to forget, that Clay and Calhoun, who for more than thirty years, have divided with him, the admiration and applause of the American people, have but recently preceded him to the tomb. Webster is the last of the three immortal names, that have long stood on the American roll of fame, so higli that the interval between them and all the other distin- guished men of their time and country, has been wide and well defined. They rose above all their contempora- 8 ries early in life, and retained their pre-eminence undis- puted, to the end of it. England had her Pitt, and Fox, and Burke, who gain- ed a like ascendency, and maintained it for twenty years. Justly proud is old England, of their fame ; and ever cherished, is the memory of their deeds, their characters, and their contests ; and she would suffer her navy to be sunk, or any other disaster to befall her, as soon as she would suffer the character and achievments of either of these great men, to be blotted from her history. In later times, she has had her Wellington, who has also now gone down to his grave. The Duke was not born to die. His name belongs to his country ; and no treasures of silver or gold, could tempt her to forget the hero of Waterloo. Clay, Calhoun, and Webster belong to the historical period, immediately succeeding that of the Revolutionary heroes. That period has fcirnished many instances of men who live in the memories of this, and will live in the memories of all succeeding generations of men, by their high services. Jackson, the younger Adams, Harrison, Taylor, Mar- shall, Story, Woodbury, Silas Wright, with a host of others who have gone before Clay, Calhoun, and Web- ster, have taken their places in the American firma- ment, with Washington, the elder Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Hamilton, and the other fixed stars of the con- stellation of Revolutionary patriots and heroes. A country that can lose a Clay and a Webster in one year, and that has buried an Adams and a Jefferson in one day, will not be pronounced, by the civilized world, barren of genius, or unproductive of great and good men. When Mr. Webster first took his place in Congress, as a Representative from Now Hampshire, in ISI^, Mr. Clay had been several years in the conncils of the nation, and Mr. Calhoun had already served one term in Con- gi'ess. Calhoun and Webster were of the same age, be- ing both born in 1782. Clay was five years their senior. Since that thirteenth Congress, these three have been marked men. Although Mr. Webster, after four years of service in Congress, retired to private life, and pursued his professional practice for seven years, and was conse- quently less before the public, yet he had already taken his rank among men, along side of Clay and Calhoun ; and after his return to Congress in 1823, they three have had no rivals but themselves. Each has in turn shown himself equal to any position under the Government. They have shone ahke, in the halls of legislation, and in the Cabinet ; and the influence of each of them has been constantly felt throughout the country, to the day of his death. They have, each, towered high above the incumbents of the Presidential office, for a quarter for a century, in the qualifications which are supposed to fit men for that posi- tion. They have, each of them, contributed largely to the making of other men Presidents. They have, each of them, aspired to the Presidency themselves; but neither of them has attained to that honor, and but one of them, has ever received the nomination of either of the great political parties of the country. Mr. Clay was the champion of the West. None ever excelled him in the elements of character, which make a man personally influential and popular, in a republican Government. Bold, enterprising, of a surpassing elo- 10 quence, with a voice of the richest melody, of prodigious compass, and ever obedient to his will, — he was endowed with a towering genius, as well as a lofty ambition. His style of oratory was clear, persuasive, and impas- sioned, copious and felicitous in language, and enriched with the ripe fruits of experience in public affairs. He was singularly dextrous and happy, in all the arts of par- liamentary debates. He was a man of undoubted patri- otism, and of elevated and liberal statesmanship. He was a man of national, and not of local views. He was truly an American. He wrote with clearness, elegance, and force ; and his diplomatic correspondence, when Secretary of State, under Mr. Adams' administration, would do honor to any government of any country. He was known to be a man of high honor and great gallantry, possessing the rare combination of a bold and imperious temper, with political sagacity and practical wisdom. His early educa- tion was such, as a poor boy, of true genius, with an in- satiable thirst for knowledge, and an unconquerable am- bition, in a free country, may obtain. Such opportunities as occured, he improved. " Times and seasons happen to all men," but few there are who improve them as did Henry Clay. On coming to his majority, he was admitted to the bar at Lexington, Kentucky, in 1797 — practised law with the most brilliant success — at once became a favorite with the people; — in 1803, had a seat in the Kentucky Legis- lature, and stood foremost among the first; in 180G, was elected to the Senate of the United States, to fill a vacancy for one year, where he at once took a high rank, and after fresh services in the State Legislature, was elected to fill another vacancy in the United States Senate, commencing in 1809. On the expiration of that term, 11 in 1811, he was elected to the House of lleprcsentativcs, of which he was chosen speaker, the first day he took liis seat in it; which position he continued to hokl, till in 1814, he was sent as one of the Commissioners to nego- tiate the treaty of Ghent. Without attempting to follow him through his long and illustrious career, it must suffice for the present occasion, to say — of his great deeds, are they not written in the book of tlie record of his country, there to be known and read of ;dl men. Mr. Calhoun was the champion of the South. He came into Congress in the year 1811, having already dis- tinguished himself in the Legislature of South Carolina. Mr. Calhoun was endowed with great and original intel- lectual power, and had the advantages of a thorough edu- cation. He thought, with clearness and precision, and expressed his thoughts, with masterly eloquence. His style was remarkable for its condensation and force. Of a high and unbending character, with an energy and activi- ty that yielded to no opposition or discouragement, he was too much under the influence of principle, and the deductions of his powerful logic, to follow implicitly any party. His career in Congress commenced and long con- tinued, with the most liberal and national views. He was in the Cabinet of Mr. Monroe, and was Vice President under both John Quincy Adams and General Jackson. Later in hfe, he became impressed with the idea, that the General Government bore with unjust severity upon the South. He became seriously concerned for the relative political strength of the South, and this concern had a powerful influence upon his destiny. On the two subjects of the tariff and slavery, local influences, at length, gained a controlling influence over him. But he was undoubtedly 12 sincere in liis opinions. He gave the strongest evidence of his sincerity, when he abandoned the fair prospect, which lay before him, of the Presidency, for his favorite doctrines, resigning the high position he held, as Vice President, in a popular administration, and placing him- self in a hopeless minority. The doctrines of Nullification and Secession resulted from his opinions on the high tariff ; and the doctrine of Disunion, from his opinions on the question of Slavery in the Territories, and on the general idea of a balance of power, between the North and the South. He regarded the South, as the weaker section of the nation, and liable to be oppressed by the action of the General Government, under the influence of the superior weight of the Free States, and dependent for its safety, on the preservation of the accustomed equilibrium of political power in the Senate of the United States. On entering Congress, Mr. Calhoun had at once as- sumed a rank of extraordinary elevation and influence^ and rose rapidly to the summit of fame as a parliamentary debater and statesman. In logical power, he was the supe- rior of Mr. Clay, and the equal of Mr, Webster. His career was in length equal to that of Mr. Webster, and of trans- cendent brilliancy. He differed from Mr. Clay more than from Mr. Webster, in his style of composition and oratory. With less of ornament derived from the imagination than Webster, he had the same compact logic. His speeches were all earnest and eloquent. Without going far for illustrations, his figures of rhetoric, and all his language? were felicitous and captivating. He was in every sense a truly great man. He was peculiar and original. We shall not see his like again. 13 On the whole, while Mr. Calhoun was more sectional in his opinions, than Mr. Clay or Mr. Webster ; he was per- haps less a partizan, than either. Neither he, nor Web. ster, however, could follow the behests of party with mucli alacrity, where their own well reasoned judgment and conscience did not go decidedly with them. Their con- duct was very much controlled by principle, and the older they became, the more difficulty they found, in submitting to the dictation of party. This was a prominent reason, why neither of them was nominated for the Presidency, for which they were both so eminently qualified, and to which they both ardently aspired. Mr. Clay, on the other hand, while he took no sectional views, but comprehended the entire country in his policy, was a strict adherent to party organization, over which his promptness, energy^ and genius gave him a decided control. Such were Mr. Webster's two great contemporaries, who have for near forty years been associated with him in the minds of mankind, and who with him have contributed to the intellectual illumination of this western hemisphere. God forbid, that one laurel should ever be plucked from the head of either of these, his great rivals ; or that the dust of detraction and envy should ever be allowed to soil the splendor of their fame. In death, as in life, they all belong to their country ; and their renown can no more be spared, now that they are dead, than their services could be dispensed with, while they were living. W^ebster needs not the disparagement of any of his contemporaries. In his life-time, he was too magnanimous to accept such service from others, and his lofty spirit would spurn such service now. I would gladly avoid all comparisons, which might cause sensations not entirely pleasant to the friends 14 of either of these illustrious characters. I am conteni with Webster as he was ; and will consent to borrow no man's laurels, to adorn his brow. Daniel Webster, was the son of Ebenezer Webster and Abigail Eastman, and was born in that part of Salisbury New Hampshire, now known as Franklin, on the 18tb day of January, A. D. 1782, in the last year of the Revo- lutionary War. Ebenezer Webster, was a native of New Hampshire, and is said to have been of Scotch descent. He was ; large, erect, athletic man, with only such education as h( acquired by himself, after having served out his appren- ticeship to a farmer, who neglected to give him any op- portunity at all, for school instruction. He was a good man ; loved his family, and his conntry ; was laboriout and exemplary, and shunned none of the hardships and and dangers incident to a border life, in the times of the French, and Revolutionary wars. He was a ranger, ir the old French war, fighting under the British flag, against the French, till the peace of 17G3, rising from a commor- soldier, to the rank of a captain. When the troubles arose between England and tht American colonies, Captain Webster, with all his kindred, espoused the cause of the colonies, with burning zeal. He had the courage of a lion. " He commanded a com- pany, at the battle of Bennington, under General Stark. He was also at the battles of White Plains and Rhode Island. On the night after Arnold deserted, at West Point, Captain Webster was made officer of the guard oi Washington himself, who calling him into his tent, and pledging him a glass of wine, said : " If I can't trusi you. Captain Webster, I can't trust any man." 15 After the war, Ebenezer Webster was elected to the bench, and remained a Judge for many years, and until his death, universally respected, both as a man and a Judge. Ebenezer Webster's second wife, Abigal Ea Iman, was a woman of superior mind, and possessed a force of char- acter, which was felt throughout the circle in which she moved. Proud of her two boys, Ezekiol and Daniel, and ambitious that they should excel, she breathed into their youthful breasts, aspirations, which "grew with their growth and strengthened with their strength," till, from the humblest condition, and the most unpromising and limited prospects, they were raised by merit, to the first rank of men, with prospects as wide as their country. No small part of their success in life, was to be ascribed to the elevated hopes, and early promptings, of that "excellent mother." They received from her, both instruction and rigorous discipline. Aside from his mother's teachings, Daniel's opportuni- ties for instraction were only such as were afforded by the ordinary District or Common Schools, of that early day, in the newer parts of New England. Imperfect, however, as those schools were, a wilHng and vigorous mind could make respectable progress in them ; especially, when there was a fond and capable mother, at home, to aid and en- courage him. It was, undoubtedly, the progress made by the boy at home, and in those Primary Common Schools, which awakened, in the mind of the father, the idea of giving him better opportunities. When he was fourteen years of age, his fiither took him to Phillips Academy at Exeter, an institution of great and continued usefulness, from that day to the present. Here, 16 he found himself in the midst of incitements to study, with greater facihties for learning, than he had ever be- fore known or imagined. The boys of our days, who have been tenderly raised, and gone leisurely to school from childhood, without any of the drudgery of labor, can have no conception of the avidity with which young Daniel Webster, who had spent the most of his days since his childhood, at hard work on the farm, now devour- ed the lessons that were set for him. He made rapid progess ; but he was a modest boy, and found it quite impossible to perform the exercise of declamation. He committed to memory many pieces, but when his name was actually called, he was paralyzed and could not rise from his seat. This circumstance, Mr. Webster related of himself in after life. How long it was, or how far he had advanced in his studies, before he could summon sufficient assurance, to speak in the presence of his in- structors and his fellows, does not appear. That he did, however, somehow overcome that infirmity, the world has had good reason to know. His going to Exeter, seems to have been designed, as a preparation, not for college, but for school keep- ing, in the winter seasons. He had not then aspired to a college education ; he did not suppose it possible for his father to incur so heavy an expense. Col- lege privileges were, in those days, reserved for here and there one, whose circumstances were pecuHarly fortunate. In the first place, the father must be wealthy, according to their primitive ideas of wealth ; and in the next place, the boy must be elected, out of the family, where there were more boys than one, for so high a promotion. That more than one bo}^, out of any one family, should be seat to college, was a contingency not to be thought of. Here was Daniel, one of ten children with quite a number of brothers, and a father wlio had not been in school a day in his life, and who was under the necessity of working hard to support his family. The chance of his obtaining so great, so unconmion a privilege, seemed to him so small, that he had never entertained the idea for a moment. But that father, who had keenly felt the want of an education lumself, and who had in him a heart, large enough for a whole race of princes, de- termined to do something for his boy, Daniel, who had shown so much aptitude to learn. After a few months' residence at Exeter, his father came for him, and on their way home the subject of his going to college was first mentioned to Daniel, by his flither. The many anxious conferences, which had taken place between the father and the mother on this great question, deliberating how they should be able to meet this large expense, with their narrow means, history has not preserved. Mr. Webster says, in an autobiographical memorandum of his boyhood: " I remember the very hill we were ascending, through deep snows, in a New England sleigh, when my father made known this purpose to me. 1 could not speak. How could he, I thought, with so large a family and in such narrow circumstances, think of incurring so great an ex- pense for me. A warm glow ran over me, and I laid my head on my father's shoulder, and wept." How deeply did he feel the importance of the propo- sition of his flither ! He saw, that it would open to him? the way to a new and more elevated sphere of action. One great, if not the great element of success in his case, 18 was his thorough appreciation of a liberal education, as well as of the cost and difficulty of obtaining it. If some ingenious instructor of youth could discover a process of intellectual discipline, by which young gentlemen could be made to appreciate the privileges of a liberal educa- tion, without being poor, he would be entitled to higher honor, and a richer reward, than was he, who invented the steam engine. The privileges of a classical and scientific education, are lightly esteemed by those whose parents are able, without inconvenience, to send them to college. The difficulties in the way of attaining an object, wonder- fully enhance its value. There is no reasoning, like poverty, to convince the student of the importance of an education, which costs money. Necessity, which is so ex- cellent a mother of invention, is also an admirable en- forcer of truth upon the minds of the young. Daniel;, who had heretofore worked hard upon his father's farm, needed no argument on the subject, to satisfy him that an edu- cation was the greatest blessing that could be conferred upon him in this world ; because it opened the way to every thing on earth that looked to him desirable, — that he would be successful, was, therefore, just as certain, as that his life and health should be spared, while he strag- gled for the prize. In one year he was prepared for college, and admitted at Dartmouth, where he remained the full term of four years, devoting himself faithfully and successfully to his studies. The long winter vacations, however, were devo- ted to teaching, to eke out the means of paying his ex- penses. Indolent students can find no encouragement in his college course. As an evidence of the estimation, in which he was held at Dartmouth, it is sufficient to men- 19 tion, that, in his Junior year, he, and not a Senior, was selected to deliver the Fourth of Jidy Oration, and it was thought worthy of being printed in a pamphlet. This performance shows that the spirit of Seventy-six had made a strong impression on his mind ; — that the scenes and sentiments of the Revolution were fomiliar to him, and that patriotism had an early growth in his heart. The style of the piece was clear and animated, — in some parts of it, a little florid, — and would, perhaps, better please those of his critics, who have denied him the possession of imagination, than his later, and more ma- ture productions. In the meantime, he had interceded with his lather, for his elder brother, Ezekiel's education, and besides teaching in winters, during his college course, con- tinued the business of teaching, after graduatinir, for one year, — paying his board by recording deeds, — that at the end of the year he might carry home his unbroken salary of $350, to be applied mainly to the education of his brother Ezekiel. In 1801, he graduated, with distinguish- ed honor ; and after the one year's service, as a teacher, and three years' study of the law, was admitted to the bar in 1805, as a young man of decided promise. To be near his father, who had become old and infirm, he opened an office in the neighboring village of Boscawen. But his design was to settle ultimately in Portsmouth, the principal commercial point in the State. In 1806, his father died, not, however, till he had heard Daniel argue one cause, and saw with a fond father's delight, the evi- dent signs of coming success. In 1807, Mr. Webster moved to Portsmouth, leaving his office at Boscawen, to his brother Ezekiel. Nine years 20 he remained in Portsmouth, with a leading practice at the bar, becoming well known though out the State, and also in Massachusetts. It was a fortunate circumstance for him, that the bar in New Hampshire, numbered at that time, Jeremiah Mason, as one of its members, as well as other very eminent men, and that Samuel Dexter, and Joseph Story, of Massachusetts, names well-known to fame, practised in the courts of that State. But his early contests were chiefly with Mr. Mason, a lawyer of the highest eminence and talents. lie was Mr. Webster's senior by many years, bat was in the meridian of life, at that time. No young lawyer ever had a more vigorous course of discipline than Daniel Webster received, at the hands of Jeremiah Mason ; and what is alike creditable to both, they remained warm and generous friends, through all their professional contests. Here Mr. Webster laid the foundation of his reputation as a lawyer, which soon placed him at the head of the profession in the State where he resided. In 1812, he first consented to be a candidate for office, and was elected to Congress, and took his seat at the extra session, in May, 1813. The war with England was then waged, and raging. His course was thoroughly patriotic, notwithstanding his party connections. He seconded no refusal of supplies, nor any fiictious opposition to the administration. He urged the increase of the navy, and opposed a bank whose paper was not to be converti- ble into specie. Many persons who have long regarded Mr. Webster's public character with fiwor, and even with admiration, j^et, suppose that in the inexperience of early life, and in the heat of party excitement, during the last war with England, his Congressional course was not such 21 as to commend itsclt" to the lavor oi' a patriotic people. But, there is nothing in the history of that period of liis life, that need to give his friends concern, or that c;.n give his enemies joy. It was a trying time, for one not belonging to the dominant party. His constituents were deeply interested in navigation and commerce on the ocean, and taking counsel from their interest, they liad opposed as unnecessary, the declaration of war, which in- volved the destmction and loss of their property. But political life had had no charms for Mr. Webster up to that time. In 1813, he entered Congress fresh from the bar. How he could have gone through those exciting, and, to politicians, perilous times, and escaped all participation in the Hartford Convention, and the political heresies of New England, which proved to be so fatally unpopular, has puzzled his adversaries, who have often had occasion to cast about for something to say, against the Achilles of the North. In the year 1838, a great debate arose in the Senate of the United States, upon the Sub-Treasury, in which Mr. Clay, Mr. Calhoun, and Mr. Webster, bore the lead- ing parts, and which was sometimes called the battb of the liiants. In the excitement of the contest, the dis- cussion ran far beyond the immediate question before them, and became more personal than was usual with either of these great debaters. Mr. Calhoun " carried the war into Africa," in the Congressional phrase of the time, and, among other topics, hinted that he might attack Mr. Webster with effect, for his course during the " late war," as the last war with England was then called. lh\ Web- ster said in reply, " Sir, I am glad this subject has been 22 alluded to, in a manner which justifies me in taking pub- lic notice of it, because I am well aware, that for ten years past, infinite pains has been taken to find 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 para- graphs, and half sentences have been collected, fraudu- lently 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 con-espondence. My letters were sought for, to learn if, in the confidence of private friendship, I had ever said any thing 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 understood it was brought to Washington. A conclave was held to consider it, and the result was, if there was nothing else against Mr. Web- ster, the matter 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 may 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." . After reviewing the part he took in Congress during the war, and triumphantly defending his course, he closed that portion of his speech in the following words : " So much, sir, for the war, and for my conduct and opinions 23 as connected with it, and, as T do not mean to recnr to this subject often, nor ever, unless indispensably neces- sary, I repeat the demand for any charge, any accusation, any allegation whatever, that throws me l)ehind the hon- orable gentleman, or behind any other man, in honor, in fidelity, in devoted love to that country in which 1 was born, which has honored me, and which I serve ; I, who seldom deal in defiance, now, here, in my place, boldly defy the honorable member to put his insinuation in the form of a charge, and to support that charge by any proof whatever." Mr. Calhoun made no further allusion to the last war. It is to be remembered, that this occurred in the Senate of the United States, in the presence of several, who had been fellow members with him, of the thirteenth Congress? and witnesses of his whole conduct in Congress, during the war; and if anything could have been brought forward, it would have been done, by others, if not by Mr- Calhoun. It is undoubtedly true, that, though generally regarded as one of the Federal party of that day, then, as in later times, he avoided all the excesses, and many of the errors of his party. In 181G, after four years' service in Congress, at the age of thirty-four years, he removed his residence to Bos- ton, Massachusetts, where he devoted himself seven years to his profession. During this time, many and great causes were argued and tried by him, and so distinguished did he become, that some causes became celebrated be- cause he appeared in them. In 1818, he argued the Dartmouth College case, before the Supreme Court of the United States. This College had been founded by Dr. Wheelock, on private funds, under a royal charter, before 24 the Revolution. The Legislature of New Hampshire en- acted a law to place the institution under a new Board of Trustees or Directors, changing the government, and to some extent the character of the institution. The old Board did not consent to this, and disputed the validity of these acts, on the ground that the old charter was a contract, and the Legislature was prohibited by the Con- stitution, to impair its obligation. The highest Court of New Hampshire sustained the new acts of the Legisla- ture, against the old Board of Trustees. Great excite- ment arose on the subject in New Hampshire, and great consternation among the friends of the College, and, also, among the friends of like institutions. The question whether all eleemosynary and educational corporations, were to be subject to the changing Avill of political legislatures, and to be thrown into the vortex of party excitement, was vital to their stability and useful- ness. Mr. Webster felt more than an ordinary interest in the result of it. It was the case of his own alma mater, who had witnessed the first budding of his genius. The question was then new under our Constitution. It is said that before hearing the argument. Judge Story, having looked over the papers of the case, remarked, that he did not see that there was anything in it. Mr. Webster, made the opening argument, and before he had finished the court was convinced, and the law established. Judge Marshall declared it the best argument he had ever heard, and Judge Story often referred to, und spoke of it, with enthusiasm. This was Mr. Webster's first appearance in that high tribunal, and perhaps, he never appeared in it to better advantage. Here, began his great work of ex- pounding the Constitution of the United States, 25 It was his fortune, afterwards, to argue many causes of great national importance, before the higliest legal tribu- nal of the country, involving the construction of the Con- stitution ; and by his arguments, to contribute largely to the formation of those judicial opinions, which have illus- trated and expounded that sacred instrument. But his supremacy in the forum has not been questioned, for a great many years, and it is only necessary to remark, that his professional labors ran on, parallel with his labors as a Legislator and Diplomatist, and that his achievements at the bar alone, were sufficient to fill up the measure of the feme of the greatest lawyers the world has known. But here we must take leave of him as a lawyer, without men- tioning many celebrated causes, in which his genius illus- trated and contributed to the estabUshment of important principles of constitutional law. In 1823, Mr. Webster was again elected to Congress' His former experience in Congress had satisfied his am- bition in that direction, and he was exceedingly adverse to abandoning his lucrative practice for the unquiet life of a political man. He said in his speech on his reception in Boston, in July last : " It is now, gentlemen, thirty years since I came to this city of Boston. In my early manhood, I had had some, but not much experience in political affairs, I had left the world of politics, I thought forever, and I came here to pursue my profession, to earn my living, and maintain and educate my children." " It was enough for me, and fulfilled all my expectations in life, that I should be able moderately to provide for my own necessities, by my professional labors, and enjoy the pleasures of the intellectual and agreeable society of the town of Boston." 26 " But no man knows his own destiny, — at least I did not know mine. As I was sitting in my office, poring over Mansfield and Blackstone, in the year 1823, in the month of October, there came a committee to me. They did not look like clients ; I did not believe they had any law suits ; Thomas H. Perkins was chairman ; another of the members is now living — Mr. Wm. Sturgis, — and they stood up straight in my presence. I threw down my law books, and they said : ' Sir, we have come to tell you your destiny ; you must give up these law books. We come to tell you that on Monday next, you will be chosen to represent the city of Boston, in the Congress of the United States. We come to make no request, we come to enter into no discussion, we take no answer.' Col. Per- kins made a graceful bow, and with his committee went off." The strife of party was not congenial to Mr. Webster's nature. During the seven years of his retirement from political life, the storm of party had passed by. Mr. Monroe had served out his first term of the Presidential office, and had been elected for the second, without oppo- sition. All parties were dissolved in the general confi- dence which was accorded to the administration. The names of Federalist, and Republican, were no longer heard. If " some prejudices remained longer than their causes, as the waves lash the shore for a time after the storm has subsided," — " the tendency of all political elements was to repose." It was probably this calm state of the political ocean, which reconciled Mr. Webster again to em- bark upon it. Since that election, his hfe has been a public one, — devoted to his country. Among the first efforts which signalized his return to 27 Congress, was the introduction of a resolution, — " that provivsion ought to be made by law, for defraying the ex- pense incident to the employment of an agent or com- missioner to Greece, whenever the President shall deem it expedient to make such appointment." The object of this resolution, was to encourage the brave Greeks, to maintain their cause against the Turks with the assurance, that their independence would be ac- knowledged without delay, Avhen they had fought their way to freedom. He made an elaborate speech. His re- collections of classic Greece warmed his imagination in the cause of modern Greece. He felt, also, that America had an interest in their cause. After the overthrow of Napoleon, the monarchs of Russia, Prussia, and Austria formed what was commonly called, " the Holy Alliance," by which, after sundry un- meaning generalities, with which to blind the public, they proclaim the doctrine, that no change ought to be made in governments, or laws, which does not emanate from those, " whom God had made responsible for power ; and engage to assist each other to suppress rebellion and rev- olution, and claiming that the powers have an undoubted right to take a hostile attitude in regard to those states in which the overthrow of the government may operate as an example. " These sovereigns had also cast oppro- bium upon the cause of Greece, fearing the example of her success, far more than sympathizing with her suflerings, under the bloody tyranny of her Turkish masters. Scio, peopled with 130,000 of the most civiUzed and refined of the Greeks, had been burnt, and nearly all the unof- fending inhabitants slaughtered in a single day, and the remnant of the people of that devoted island, who es- 28 caped the sword, had been sold into distant and hopeless bondage. Yet, these christian sovereigns did not hesi- tate to countenance the Turk, and frown upon the Greek. Mr. Webster was of opinion, that popular liberty was a subject interesting to America, and that she had as good a right to encourage, as the European monarchs had to discourage a heroic people, struggling against fearful odds, for political independence. The kings had claimed the right to interfere by force, to defeat the progress of pop- ular liberty, — a claim justified by no law of nations ; and Mr. Webster contended, that we had a perfect right, and that it was our duty, at least, to make manifest our sym- pathy for the oppressed, in their struggles to be free. The object of sending the agent or commissioner, pro- vided for by the resolution, was to enquire into the true condition of the contest, in order that our government might welcome the new republic into the ftimily of nations, the instant she became entitled to that honor. Into this cause, Mr. Webster poured his whole soul, at the same time enlightening the discussion with much political in- formation and learning. Mr. Clay came to his assistance and made an eloquent speech for the resolution. But Mr. Handolph and many others took the opposite ground, and the resolution was lost. The discussion, however was published, and was useful to liberty, and served to encourage the suflering Greeks, though far away, in the midst of their perils of war, to hope for friendly counten- ance from the great American Republic. When Hungary was fighting to maintain the banner of freedom against Austria, our Government sent Dudley Mann, an agent, on a like mission of inquiry, which was made the subject of complaint by Chevalier Hulsemann, 29 n the part of Austria : — and in liis answer to that comr plaint, Mr. Webster, then Secretary of State, had an op- portunity to re-assert and maintain his own views on the subject. How the chevalier was answered, is not unknown in Europe, or in America. The next great subject of debate, which arose after his return to Congress, was the Tariff, upon which, his course has been often and severely censured. But it is probable that most of this censure has originated in a want of a just comprehension of his views, and in a want of proper knowledge of the circumstances of the case. It is said that his course upon the tariff has been inconsistent. Up to 1824, and in the session of 1824, Mr. Webster opposed, — strenuously opposed, — the levying of a high tariff for protection. In the session of 1824, he made a great speech against the bill, then brought forward, enacting very high duties for the protection of American manu- factures, amounting to absolute prohibition of the foreign articles, in many cases. His speech has been often quoted. It was an argument of the Taritf Question, upon the principles of political economy, and has been regarded, by not a few, as unanswerable. Mr. Clay was then Speaker of the House, but took a leading part in the discussion of the bill, making one of his greatest ef- forts in its favor. After much discussion and deliberation, the bill was passed, and thereby the policy of the government was supposed to be settled. Domestic manufactures were, thenceforth, to receive the patronage of the government, by liigh duties upon foreign manaliictures ; — high enough to give a decided advantage to the home manutacturer, if not amounting to an :disolute prohibition of tlie foreign 30 article. Mr. Webster led New England in her opposition to the adoption, by the General Government, of this pohcy. He did not oppose a moderate encouragement, to domestic manufactures, by such a just discrimination in the laying of duties, as should keep up healthful com- petition. That policy had existed from the foundation of the government, and at that time, had no opponents. Bat, the act of 1824, advanced a long way beyond, and established a new policy, — the high protective policy. It proposed to change, and did change, the investments of capital ; it proposed to rear up, and did rear up, im- mense manufacturing establishments, founded upon the stability of that policy. In 1828, when it was found that the law, by unforeseen cu'cumstances, worked a particular hardship to one class of manufacturers, and failed of its object, an amendatory act was introduced, and Mr. Webster, although greatly disapproving of many things in the bill, voted for it, for the justice it gave to that class. When the capital of the country had, upon the invita- tion, and under the encouragement of the government, assumed the form of domestic manuflictures, and when the industry of the country had adjusted itself to the pohcy and laws of the land, — a policy not sought by it, but forced upon it, by the National Legislature, and it was then proposed, by the Compromise act of 1833, to level the tariff to a perfect horizontal, excluding all discrimina- tion, he opposed the proposition. In 1828, he voted to amend the act of 1824, which had been found to operate unjustly in one particular ; and in 1833, he opposed the abandonment of the principle of discrimination, contained in the Compromise act. 31 Whoever shall take the trouble to review all his pro- ductions, relating to the tarifl', will find, that Mr. Web- ster's opinions were the result of an inteUigent theory, founded upon much reading, and an extensive analysis of facts. He deprecated violent changes in the laws, that affected the modes of employment, and the profits, of labor and capital. He deprecated the immense sacrifices of prop- erty, and the ruin to whole classes of industrious individu- als, that were the inevitable result of fickle legislation, on the part of the government, upon these vast interests. He did not regard it as so important, after all, what was the policy of the government on the subject of the tariff, as that, that policy should be known, and permanent. In all this, he may have been \vrong. But who, of all his accusers, have been able to show us more practical, and better doctrines, than are contained in his speeches and writings, upon this difficult and complicated subject ? But it is impossible to notice all the prominent occa- sions, on which his great parliamentary efforts were put forth. His speeches in the convention of Massachusetts for forming a new constitution ; his speech upon the Panama mission, which was intended to carry into prac- tical operation, the declaration of President Monroe, in his message of 1823, that we should consider any attempt on the part of the European powers to extend their sys- tem of interference with independent nations, on the principles of "the Holy Alliance," to any portion of the Western Hemisphere, as dangerous to our peace and safe- ty; — his eloquent, zealous, and successful effort for the rewarding of the Revolutionary soldiers in their old age with pensions, which seemed to flow as much from the heart as from the head; his powerful discussions of ques- 32 tions relating to the currency, and commercial exchanges, and the finances of the country, including his speech against the bank of 1815, and that upon his own resolu- tions in 1816, requiring the revenue to be paid in the legal currency of the United States, by which a sound circulating medium was restored to the country, as well as numerous more recent productions on the subject; his report on the apportionment of representation, the principle of which, though it did not then prevail, was afterward adopt- ed by law; his speeches on the Presidential veto, and on the removal of the deposits; his speech on the Presiden- tial protest, which is a masterly exposition of the Con- stitutional limitations upon executive power ; his speech on the appointing and removing power of the President, which, also, casts a strong light upon that part of the Constitution; his speech upon slavery and the slave-trade, in the District of Columbia; his speech on the Louisville canal, in which he urged the most liberal policy toward the West, placing that important improvement upon the same ground, with the improvement of the "harbors, piers, and breakwaters on the sea coast;" his speech on the right of pre-emption to actual settlers on the public lands, in which he diftered from jMr. Clay and the Whig party, and advocated that right, upon the principle, that the government Treasury ought not to be enriched by depriving the settlers of their improvements, but ought to be con- tent with the fair value of their lands ; his speeches upon the Sub-Treasury, in the great contest with Mr. Calhoun in 1838 ; with a great many other of his distinguished parliamentary eflbrts ; — every one of which has embalm- ed some great truth, affecting the welfare of our country, in language that is destined to live forever in the memo- 13 ries of mankind, and to exert as high an influence upon the future generations of his countrymen, as they have exerted upon his contemporaries; — all these monuments of his genius, and of his ardent love of country, we must pass by. The extent of his productions transcends the scope of an occasion like the present. Mr. Webster's style of composition, was suited to the expression of important thought. It was so clear as to be transparent. He could not be misunderstood, without great prejudice, or great want of honesty, on the part of those who heard, or read, or criticised him. Without be- ing ambitious of ornament, he was always tasteful and classic, always interesting, always suggestive of thought, always maldng progress. He was entirely free from what most writers of our time, and of all times, have a great deal of, a constant straining after effect, by sounding words, and brilliant figures. With an imagination stronger than most men, and a lively fancy, by which he could, at will, invoke to his aid all forms of comparison and figurative illustration, he used them in a manner so happy and judicious, as to give pleasure to the imagination of the reader, and inform his understanding, and convince his reason, at one and the same time ; and so chastened and tasteful, as not to detract, in any manner, fi'om the clearness and simplicity of his discourse. Many persons, who were accustomed to admk'e high sounding phrases, and extravagant comparisons, have sup- posed that his style was wholly destitute of ornament. An amusing instance of this kind of estimate of Mr. Webster's style was told by himself, in the latter years of his life, after his writings had become acknowledged 5 34 models of English composition. Before he had become so widely known, he had, as chairman of a committee of Congress, carefully prepared a report, to be read before the House. On reading it over to the Committee, for their approval, one member, who was a man of conse- quence in his part of the country, remarked that he found no fault with the matter of the report, but would remind Mr. Webster, that the subject had excited a good deal of attention, in the country, and the report would be extensively read, and it seemed to him, that more pains should be taken with the style of it. The report was carefully read over again, when the committee man, with a good deal of kindness, said, he supposed it would have to do ; he would not object to its being reported to the House, but, in candor, would remark to Mr. Webster, that, for an educated man, he had the poorest style of any person he had ever known. From some recent criticisms," we might infer, that this distinguished Congressman was not more self-complacent, nor more mistaken in his esti- mate of Mr. Webster's style of composition, than some who profess to be critics now-a-days, have been, both in their estimate of the man, and of his works. But, simple as was his style, it was not unadorned. His thoughts, always happy, and well conceived, were embodied in the most felicitous words to be found in the language for the purpose, and every production was en- riched witli tasteful and pertinent illustrations, beautiful conceptions, drawn from the natural world, — classical al- lusions, void of pedantry, but graceful, — historical allu- sions, — comparisons, — antitheses, and, in short, every variety of rhetorical figure was employed with exquisite taste ; — all which, hke so many diamonds, and precious 35 stones, added beauty and richness to the orighial thought — the pure gold, in which they were set. He touched nothing which he did not adorn. It is probable, that no man of modern times, has given more care and thought, to the perfection of his style of ex- pression, whether written, or spoken, than Mr. Webster. He used to say, that "there was a great deal in scratch- ing out." He once said to a friend, that " he had been all his hfe trying to get rid of words." He Avas familiar with our English and American classic authors, as well as with our English and American history. He was familiar, also, with the best of the ancient classics. All these sources were made tributary to the perfection of his style of composition, by a mind, which, I verily believe has had no superior in ancient or modern times. Quotations, — and those only from standard works, — were sparingly used by him, and never, unless they were so peculiarly appropriate, as to adorn his own thought, and delight his hearer. To say, that he was destitute of historical knowledge, as has been recently done, by some one, since his death, — whose principal object seemed to be, to say something different from all others, — is an ab- surdity too gross to be entitled to any respect. All his speeches, and all his public addresses, contained happy historical allusions, and illustrations, which gave a ripe- ness, that distinguished them from the productions of nearly all the orators and statesmen of the age. In a long and eventful career of public life, Mr. Webster has encountered many occasions of great diffi- culty and responsibility, putting to severe proof, both his firmness and his patriotism. Of these, T propose to notice three instances, which have arrested public attention, and 36 have awakened a warmth of applause, and a severity of censure, altogether beyond what falls to the lot of com- mon men. The first instance, was his conflict with Gen. Havne of South Carolina, in 1830, in the Senate of the United States, upon Mr. Foote's resolution, relating to the public lands. The resolution itself, which was made the occasion of that famous debate, was of no importance. General Jackson had just been elected President, by an over- whelming majority. Mr. Adams' administration had gone out of power, unpopular, and New England, which had given him a zealous support, was visited with an ex- traordinary amount of odium. Mr. Adams was a New England man ! He was not popular, and his administra- tion was regarded as a New England administration. The canvass had been bitter and unsparing, and even the tri- umph of victory did not seem to mollify the asperity of the parties. Mr. Clay had, with Mr. Adams, been driven from the public councils. It seemed to be a set- tled design, that the North should answer for all the sins she had ever committed, or been charged with, and the friends of the last administration, who had survived the overthrow of Mr. Adams, should be pubHcly arraigned, tried, condemned, and executed. Mr. Foote's resolution was the first opportunity, which presented itself for the attack. Mr. Benton commenced it, and was followed by others, of whom Gen. Hayne was by far the most prominent and formidable. The Western and Southern friends of the administration made com- mon cause against the obnoxious East. The blows were aimed mainly at the head of Mr. Webster, as an Eastern man, and the most prominent friend of the last adminis- 37 tration still in Congress ; and he was looked to, for an answer, if, haply, any answer could be given. General Jackson's administration was then new and popular, and the attack upon the North had such a zealous concurrence of some of General Jackson's friends, and was so determined, and overbearing, and able, that it pro- duced a painful depression, amounting to consternation, in the mindsof the friends of the former administration. Expectation was all against them — they had been beaten at the polls — their policy condemned by the people, and they were regarded as doomed men. But what added immensely to the interest of the oc- casion was, that Hayne and his friends, then for the first time, brought into the Senate of the United States, the fully declared doctrines of Nullification. This was vastly more important, than all the party and sectional bearings, which had been given to the debate. The South were peaceably to nullify the tarift' laws of Congress, as " dan- gerous, deliberate, and palpable violations of the Con- stitution." Of the result of that debate, but little need be said. The world knows it by heart. The North was defended, and justified. The tide of abuse, which had been, for many days rising against her, Avas rolled back upon the heads of those who had contributed to swell that tide. Nullification was met, comprehended, and overthrown, forever. Claiming to be a peaceable remedy under the constitution, it was, then and there, shown by an argument of absolute demonstration, to be rebellion and revolution against the constitution. When that day's sun Avent down, the great Southern doctrine of Nullification was at an end. The plausible logic of those who brought it into Q 8 being, could not again revive it. That great speech, justly entitled Mr. Webster to the appellation of the " Defender of the Constitution." The speech, itself, pos- sessed all the varied merit of the renowned speech of Demosthenes for the Crown. It abounds in incident, in retort, in oratorical wit, in classic allusions, in happy com- parisons, and illustrations ; in historical reminiscences, in clear statement, and in the most sublime bursts of pa- triotic eloquence, as well as in unerring and unanswerable logic. The men of the North, who had been so long oppressed with chagrin and mortification, lifted up their drooping heads, and stood erect again, and walked proudly down the Pennsylvania avenue. The North was again respect- able. No mortal, ever before or since, so bore the whole North, with all her institutions, upon his own broad shoulders, as did Daniel Webster, on that glorious day. No other debate of our times, has left so lasting an im- pression on the minds of men. The doctrines of Nullification and Secession were again argued by Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Webster in 1833, with more deliberate preparation, and with, perhaps, even greater display of ability. But the impression on the popular mhid was not so thrilling. The victory had al- ready been decided. Nullification had been condemned ; and Secession, which was but another name for the same thing, shared the same fate; General Jackson had declared against it, and the. country was safe. The Nullifiers had been effectually severed from the administration. What would have been the result, if there had been no such demonstration of the true and dangerous charac- ter of their doctrines, on that occasion, it is impossible 39 now to determine. With the powerful advocacy of Gen. eral liayne, and the still more powerful support of Mr. Calhoun, and the general favor, which, it at first received from many friends of the administration, if it had not been met by a demonstration of its danger and absurdity, with an energy and an eloquence, which carried that demon- stration home to all hearts. General Jackson might pos- sibly have been deluded, as were some of his most promi- nent followers, mto a toleration, or even a passive sup- port, of the Carolina doctrines. These doctrines were not well understood, and the source from which they emanated, was then influential and popular. Another trying occasion in the career of Mr. Webster, occurred after the death of Gen. Harrison, while he was a member of Mr. Tyler's cabinet. In 1841, Gen. Har- rison and the Whig party came into power, and Mr. Web- ster became Secretary of State. He was then, fifty-nine years of age. A new field was now opened to him. For, although he had been sufficiently prominent in 1824, to have entitled him to a place in the cabinet of John Quincy Adams, this was his first executive appointment. The foreign relations of the country were, at that time, involved in great difficulty, and doubt. Several great questions were pending between the British and Ameri- can governments, — old questions that had become more and more annoying, and which more and more threatened a rupture between these powerful nations. For fifty- eight years, — ever since the treaty of peace, of 1783, the north-eastern boundary of the United States had been unsettled, and for most of that time, had been the subject of serious controversy, — baffling the diplomacy ofevery administration, Whig and Democratic, from that 40 of Washington, down to that of Van Buren. For eight years, John Quincy Adams, as Secretary of State under Monroe, and four years as President, with Henry Clay, his Secretary of State, labored in vain to relieve our for- eign relations of this formidable question. Surveys, explorations, reports, and fruitless arbitrations were all that had been accomplished ; while the subject became every year more and more involved. Gen. Jack- son took it in hand with his characteristic energy ; but in every message, he reported this leading question of our foreign relations, unsettled, and he left it to his suc- cessor, Mr. Van Buren, as far from a settlement, as he found it. Mr. Van Buren and his Secretary of State had no better success. Every year, this vexed question came round in the message, as the most prominent, the most pressing, and the most difficult of all our national controversies ; and involving the peace of the country. Projects and counter projects for a new exploration were made, and also, for a new arbitration. But the details of their plan, after four more years of industrious negotia- tion, had not been agreed upon, when, with all its pro- found intricacies, in 1841, it fell into the hands of Gen. Harrison. In the mean time, dangerous collisions had arisen. Maine had lost her patience and taken up arms, — Gen. Scott had been sent to the frontier, and the danger of a rupture was imminent. The apprehension of war, — which is half as bad as war itself, — had become constant, in- terrupting the commerce, and seriously affecting the bus- iness of the country. Another question of scarcely less difficulty and danger, was that growing out of the destruction of the steamboat Caroline, and the arrest of McLeod. 41 The Caroline, which, in the year 1837, had been engaged in the service of the rebel forces, against the government of Canada, along the line of the United States, in defi- ance of the laws of both countries, — had been seized by the British troops, on the American side of the line, set on fire, and sent over the falls of Niagara ; and in the ac- complishment of this purpose, one man was said to have been killed. The British government at once avowed the act as its own. After three years of negotiation on this subject, without any result, McLeod, a British subject, was arrested in the State of New York, for murder, — on the ground that he was in the expedition against the Caroline. When it was known in England, that a British subject was about to be tried for his life, on account of services rendered as a British soldier, in obedience to mili- tary command, the national spirit was roused, and the government of England remonstrated in the most decided terms against the trial of McLeod. This was the state of things, when Mr. Webster took charge of our foreign relations. McLeod's release was demanded, and war was denounced, if he should be held. Here, then, was an- other emergency. Another irritating question, was that of the right of search, or visit, which had long threatened the peace of the two countries, and had been the subject of many in- effectual attempts to make a treaty. The question also, of the impressment of American seamen into the British service, which had been the chief cause of the last war with England, but had been left out of the treaty of peace at Ghent, still remained open. Such were but a part of the controversies on hand, in the State Department, when Mr. Webster took charge of 6 42 it. To every one of them, he addressed himself, on taking the office, with all the enthusiasm of his youth. He thought he saw how to accomplish something great and good for his country, and creditable to himself As to McLeod, he assumed the responsibility of saying to the British government, that inasmuch as it avowed the act, for which he was arrested, as its own, our govern- ment, holding it responsible, would scorn to hold McLeod ; but demanded satisfaction for the violation of our terri- tory in crossing the line to seize the Caroline. Our gov- ernment was at once placed in the right, and war between two mighty nations was averted, in perfect consistency with the highest honor of both, by a prompt admission and assertion of the true principles of public law. An ample apology, "all that a nation of high honor could give, and all that a nation of high honor would ask," was obtained for the violation of our territory in seizing the offending boat. Unwilling to waste his strength in the further prosecu- tion of what seemed to him the futile proceedings in which the North-eastern boundary had become involved, Mr. Webster proposed at once to abandon them ; and in- vited the British government, to authorize her represen- tative to treat upon the footing of a conventional line, with equivalents. That government accepted the pro- posal, and at once commissioned Lord Ashburton, as a special minister, with full power to undertake the great work of negotiating on that, and other subjects, with Mr. Webster, at Washington. In the meantime. General Harrison had died; Mr- Tyler had succeeded ; many of the leading Whig mea- sures had been brought forward and passed through Con- 43 gress, and become laws, bat the Bank bill had been lost by a disagreement between the President and the Con- gress. The merits of that controversy it is not neccss.'sry to discuss ; but so high did the excitement rise, that all the members of the Harrison cabinet resigned their places, with the exception of Mr. Webster. The Secretary of State stood alone. Then it was, that he felt the weight of the displeasure of his own party, which demanded that he should resign also. He had learned to bear, with equanimity, the re- proaches of the other party, but the taunts of his own friends put his philosophy to an unaccustomed test. His motives were freely impugned, his moral character and his political character aspersed, and all his conduct de- nounced. Anon, he was patronized with unmeaning re- grets, with faint expressions of hopes of restoration to favor, and with officious advice for the future, from politi- cal busy-bodies, which were really worse to bear than the outspoken rage of the unthinking multitude. But his purposes were not shaken. Being in a posi- tion, where he could accomplish something valuable for his country, he " staid there." And this was the only reason, he deigned to render for his conduct. The responsibility of undertaking to agree upon any conventional line, by which a portion of the territory claimed by Maine, should be surrendered for equivalents and to say what those equivalents should be, in the ex- cited state of the public mind, was too heavy, and fraught with too much danger, to be assumed for any light cause. Maine and Massachusetts were, at once, invited to ap- point commissioners, to represent them in the negotiation • — a measure of undoubted policy. 44 In six months' time, all these several subjects of angry controversy, — all delicate, all difficult, and most of them of long standing, were settled, by a treaty which received the sanction of the Senate by a vote of thirty-nine to nine ; satisfied Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Vermont, and New York, all of which States were direct- ly interested in the result ; and secured to the United States important advantages, among which, was the own- ership of a strip of land, extending the whole length of the north line of New York and Vermont, including E-ouse's Point, a place of great importance in a military point of view. Rouse's Point had been fortified many years ago, upon the supposition, that it was south of the 45th degree of North latitude, the line between Canada and the United States. But on investigation, the parallel proved to be further south than had been supposed, and Rouse's Point, with a long strip of land in ou possession, actually belonged to Canada, according to the treaty of 1783. This treaty of 1842, re-established the old line of occu- pancy. By the settlement of the dispute as to the North- western-most head of the Connecticut river. New Hamp- shire gained a hundred thousand acres of land. The suppression of the slave-trade on the coast of Africa, to which both parties had long been pledged be- fore the world, but to eftect which, they had not been able to agree upon any plan, was provided for by a small squadron to be kept by each party in that service, with instructions enabling them to co-operate in carrying out the great end of breaking up that horrid traffic. This provision super- seded the much talked of quintuple treaty with right of search, the European powers having adopted this, and given up their own plan. 45 For the first time in the history of diplomacy, was nlso then introduced into a treaty, a provision for the extra- dition of persons charged with high crimes. Up to that time, every nation, civilized as well as savage, had been a secure refuge for the murderers, robbers, and pirates of foreign lands. This stipulation has also been followed, as a model, in subsequent treaties between the nations of Europe, and is likely to become a principle of public law. Nor was the subject of impressment overlooked. The doctrine of our own government was distinctly and authoritatively announced by Mr. Webster, and responded to by Lord Ashburton, in a manner to show that, that ancient pretension of England was given up forever; and that hereafter, " In every regularly-documented American merchant-vessel, the crew who navigate it, will find their protection in the flag which is over them." Such were some of the objects, to which Mr. Webster devoted himself as Secretary of State, and for which he remained in office under President Tyler, instead of resign- ing, as did his colleagues. He had prepared himself lor these services, and whosoever shall review the State pa- pers produced by his pen, during that dark and tempes- tuous period, will wonder that so much could have been done so well, in so short a time. The history of diplomacy furnishes no parallel. For the hope of accomplishing these great objects ; averting the horrors of war; securing the blessings of peace, — permanent peace, — and national good will ; providing a friendly and successful method of suppressing the slave trade, and advancing the administration of criminal justice; he chose to suffer affliction, in the detraction and abuse heaped upon him by his own party. No other American 46 combined in himself the influences necessary to negociate that treaty. He had the confidence of Maine and Massa- chusetts, and England, as well as that of his own govern- ment. If he had abandoned his post, who could have taken up and executed his plans ? — and how uncertain would have been the result ? Fifty years had been spent by former negotiators, both Whig and Democratic, and their only progress had been backward. He had origin- ated a plan of his own, involving the highest personal risk and responsibility on his part, but promising immense good to his country, if he succeeded. He believed he could accomplish that good, and was willing to incur that risk. The crises of 1842, are now past, and we can look back upon them without apprehension. But " If agaia the rude whirlwind should rise ! The da wirings of peace, should fresh darkness deform. The regrets of the good, and the fears of the wise. Shall turn to the Pilot that weathered the storm." But the treaty of Washington, and the correspondence connected with it, formed a part, only, of the diplomatic services of Mr. Webster, under Mr. Tyler's administration. It was under his guidance, that diplomatic relations were opened with the Imperial Court of China, resulting in a treaty of amity and commerce. His letter of instruc- tions to Mr. Cushing, the Commissioner to the Celestial Empire, and the letter addressed to the Emperor, and signed by the President, are specimens of genius, taste, and judgment. It is hardly too much to say, that they are inimitable. The correspondence between the Spanish government, on the Amisted case, justifying the course of our govern- ment in rejecting the claims of Spain, for indemnity ; the 47 correspondence ^^ife the German Zoll Verein ; the cor- respondence with Portugal respecting the duties on wines, and the true construction of the treaty with that govern- ment ; the correspondence with the Mexican authorities respecting the American citizens captured at Santa Fe, which resulted in saving them to their friends and country; the famous correspondence with the Mexican minister, Bocanegra, upon the Independence of Texas, in which the pretensions of Mexico, that Texas was still a province of that government, were answered and refuted in a manner to set the matter at rest; the correspondence upon the independence of the Sandwich Islands ; and, what I have ever regarded as, at least, equal to any of his diplomatic productions, his letter to Mr. Everett, then our Minister to the court of St. James, of March 28th, 1843, on the question of the right, put forth by the British government^ to visit merchantmen, to see if they had slaves, in which the right of visit is shown to be identical with the right of search, and the claim of the British Ministry as to both demonstrated to be wrong, and forever laid at rest, each and all of which bear the marks of his genius and his labor, and, besides forming an important part of the history of our country, are a rich accession to American literature. Under Mr. Webster's hand, diplomacy assumed a new character. Instead of concealment, circumlocution, and delay, an open and direct style of intercourse with the representatives of foreign Courts, was introduced. We find that Mr. Webster and Lord Ashburton took up the great matters between the nations represented by them^ in the most frank and practical way. No two merchants could go more directly and in a more business fashion about the statement of an open account, than did these 48 negotiators go about adjusting the North-eastern bound- ary, the case of the Caroline and of McLeod, the right of search, impressment, the suppression of the slave trade, and the extradition of criminals. The fairness and directness of that correspondence, on both sides, challenge universal admiration. All ceremo- nious preliminaries were dispensed with. Some of the old Senators, who had a relish for the ancient precedents, were astonished to find no protocols, no cautious steps, by which the diplomatists gradually approached each other ; no ingenious language, by which each negotiator, upon the principle of Talleyrand, concealed his own thoughts, and the intentions of his own government. All was open and out-spoken, like the intercourse of friends ; and what would have run through many years of the old fashioned deceitful diplomacy, was finished in less than six months. Another consequence was, that there was created a mu- tual confidence between the negotiators ; and that confi- dence extended from themselves to their governments, and people. Who of our own country did not regard Ash- burton as a friend ? The same sentiment, only in a greater degree, existed in England toward Webster. He was the medium of communication between our country and Eng- land for a longer time, and was therefore better known in England than was Ashburton in America. In England, Mr. Webster was regarded as the great Pacificator of our country. His justice, and his knowledge of public law, were uni- versally acknowledged in Europe, and as a statesman and diplomatist, his position was peculiar and commanding. He has, undoubtedly, contributed largely to elevate the estimate set upon American character, in Europe. What 49 American^ abroad, has not felt that influence, and been proud to acknowledge himself a countryman of Daniel Webster. His character was a guaranty, that peace would con- tinue. The nations of Europe, for the first time, have thought it no dishonor to receive the exposition of pub- lic law from an American Secretary. He dared to pro- pose what was right, and at once to waive those claims, which, though doubtful to others, were clearly wrong to him. And now, after the lapse of ten years from the inaugu- ration of General Hai'rison, as we turn back to consider the Whig measures, resulting from the great triumph of 1840, how little remains to remind us of Whig power, be- yond the labors of the Secretary of State ? The great measures of the party, which were passed through Con- gress, have all been repealed, and now live only in history. But the Treaty of Washington remains, a monument, alike of Whig power, and patriotic service, and will remain for- ever; and will form an important chapter in the history of the Union, when the parties, and the partizans, of 1842, and 1843, avlU be unregarded, if not unknown. The next important epoch, in the career of Mr. Web- ster, was the 7th of March 1850, when he delivered the speech, in which, he announced to the country his opinions on the great questions then pending in Congress, between the North and the South. Much has been said of that speech. Perhaps no man has ever been more perseveringly pursued, with denunciation and abuse, than he has been, by a class of persons in the Free States, since that day. His position on that occasion, therefore, re- quires our attention. 7 50 A crisis had come, when the Union was believed, by the the most experienced and best men in the nation, and by him among them, to be in imminent peril. Men of local- ized minds, on both sides of Mason and Dixon's line, had agitated the questions, growing out of the annexations from Mexico, till, at least one of the opposing sections of the country, was almost ripe for separation. Nor had this peril been unforeseen or unjold, by Mr. Webster, when these conquests were made, and territories acquked. He then anticipated the trials, that would come, when the questions of Slavery and Freedom should be applied to the new acquisitions, and trembled for the result. This was the ground of his opposition to the ratification of the treaty, which gave us those immense regions to contend about. This danger, not manifest to others then, became palpable to all, in the progress of events, most exactly as he had foretold. All, or almost all, saw the crisis at hand, and felt the danger. The infatuated lovers of strife and disunion, both North and South, were in ecstacics, as they saw the angry passions rise in Congress, and else- where, throughout the country. The men of most ex- perience, and with the largest opportunities for observation, at the seat of government, were appalled at the prospects. No healing measure could pass through the Senate, if every Senator adhered to the extreme local views of the section of country from which he came. The Missouri question had shaken the country to its centre ; but here were more and greater questions, than that of the admis- sion of Missouri. Here was California, with her free con- stitution, knocking for admission. Here were Texas and New Mexico, contending, with arms in their hands, for a tract of country claimed by both. Here were New 51 Mexico and Utah, without a governmentj and Congress, after six months of strife and furious contest, wholly un- able to give them one. And here were the deep and ominous complaints from the South, that the obligations of the constitution, as to the reclamation of fugitives from service, were repudiated by the North. Then it was, that Mr. Webster came forAvard, and held up to each of the opposing sections, the mirror of truth, and signified by the speech above referred to, the terms upon which he would vote for a compromise. On the one hand, California was to be admitted, notwithstanding the irregularities of her application, with her constitutional prohibition of slavery ; and Texas was to yield a portion of the territory claimed by her, to the United States, for a consideration. On the other hand, the Territories were to receive Territorial governments, without the proviso ; and an amendment of the Fugitive slave law was to be passed, with the purpose of carrying out the provision of the Constitution on that subject. Without some conciliatory measures, like these, the government could not proceed. Legislation had come to a stand. It is vain to speculate upon the causes, which had brought the country into that unhappy state. The South had, undoubtedly, been sadly disappointed. The discovery of the gold mines, had brought to California, an unexpected influx of popidation from the Free States, who had at once formed a constitution, shutting the door on slavery, and presented themselves to Congress, for admis- sion. New Mexico had shown the same disposition on the subject of slavery; and of Utah, the South had never anjrthing to hope. The hopes of the South, in relation to the extension of slave territory, were signally, and in a 52 wonderful manner disappointed. She saw that she was about not only to lose her ascendancy in the Senate;, which she had hoped from the annexation of Texas, but by the admission of California, to be thrown into a minori- ty, with the decided prospect, that New Mexico and Utah would soon be added to the roll of the Free States. Her politicians were struck with despair. So great was their distrust of the justice of the North, that they feared that if they once became subject to her power, they would no longer have any guaranty, against tyranny and oppres- sion. Their attachment to the Union, was weakened. They felt, that they were about to be deprived of that equality of power in the Union, which they had Tbeen taught to believe essential to the security of equal privi- leges to all its members. They had, therefore, no such strong bond, to attach them to the Union, as had the people of the North, who were just about to enter into the undisputed majority in both houses of Congress. It was manifest to Mr. Webster, that there must be concilia- tion and liberality, or that all would be lost. In this, he concurred with Mr. Clay, Gen. Cass, Mr. Benton, and the most experienced statesmen and patriots of the nation. Here we are met, by men who were not in that part of the country where the danger was manifest, with the as- sumption, that no danger existed; — but that California could have been admitted, the proviso put on the territo- ries, the Fugitive slave law rejected, and every measure of the North carried with a high hand, and the Southern members, and the Southern people, finding they could not intimidate the North, would submit and be quiet. In the first place, this assumption is contradicted and disproved, by the witnesses, whose opportunities of knowl- 53 edge entitle them to credit. It is disproved, by the uni- form testimony of both parties in the South, the region where the danger lay. It is also contradicted, by the testimony of the most experienced statesmen, of both parties, in the North, who were at the seat of government, and had the best opportunities to ascertain the truth, on the subject. Besides, the Congress had ceased to make progress in business. Six months had been spent in cri- mination and recrimination, and nothing had been accom- plished, and there was no prospect of anything being ac- complished. It is an easy thing pertly to deny the existence of danger, when the danger is past, or at a distance. Indeed it is natural, to flatter ourselves that things will go on, as they have done, especially if the cloud which is charged with danger, is distant. Such has been the ex- perience of all the nations that have fdlen by civil com- motion, — and what republic, but this, has escaped that very catastrophe ? The majority has generally thought all was secure, and that their opponents were only seeking to gain their points by threats of rebellion. Like the dwellers upon the earth when Noah was preparing for the flood, they believe noth- ing which they do not, with their own eyes, behold. When the patriot, seeing the true nature of the peril, seeks to overcome it by the appropriate means, he encounters the scoffs and contumely of all this class of unbelievers. Some have thought they could find countenance in thus deny- ing the testimony of the best witnesses, by alleging the regular progress of business in the country, and especially by asserting that the stock market remained quiet. Without admitting that the value of the public funds 54 was undisturbed during those perils, or that they furnish a true index of the actual danger, it is sufficient to re- mark, that the apprehension of a rupture was allayed, by the confidence of the whole country in the men at the head of affairs in Washington. If Webster, and Clay, and Cass, and Benton, and Fillmore, and others who acted with them, had not been in the Senate, or at the head of the government, who can tell how the stocks would have stood ? Nay, if these wise and patriotic statesmen had been removed, at that crisis, and replaced with those other statesmen who believe that the Union will take care of itself, and that Congress is a safe and commodious place for the exhibition of champions, but who cannot reconcile our Constitution with the higher law of God ; and they retained the same opinions, when in power, which they had advocated when trying to get into it, — who doubts that the greatest consternation would have prevail- ed, and that it would have aflected the funds in the market, and every kind of business ? There is but one theory which can explain that point in the career of Mr. Webster. It has been charged by some, occupying extreme grounds in the North, that it was an ambitious bid for the favor of the South. Like the disappointed partisans of 1842 and 1843, these men can see no room for patriotism. Believing him to be ambi- tious, they infer that he was unpatriotic. They forget that the favor of the North was ftir more valuable to him, than that of the South, and that Daniel Webster was not blind, nor idiotic. They forget to consider that Mr. Webster had, on former occasions, stood against his party, for principle. They forget to give him any credit for the experience he had had, and the uniform attachment which, 55 from his earliest life, he had shown for the Union. They forect to consider that his means of information as to the real danger to that Union, were better than their own, and as good as any one in the Union possessed, and that other minds of the first order and greatest experi- ence in the country. North and South, were of the same opinion. They forget, above all, that they were them- selves under the strong influence of local excitement, and were consequently very liable to be mistaken. But, how was the North affected by this great series of measures ? In the first place, she secured a decided supremacy in both houses of Congress, by the admission of the new and glorious State of California; with the pros- pect of several more Free States, to be formed out of Utah and New Mexico. In the next place, the line of Texas was settled, and a portion of the immense territo- ry claimed by her, relinquished, by which, even a part of the territory before subject to be made the abode of slaves, under Texan laws, — larger than the State of Ohio, — was given up to the General Government, and is now free soil. They lost the Wilmot Proviso. But what was that proviso, but a prohibition of slavery ? No slavery existed in New Mexico, or Utah. New Mexico had no law tol- erating slavery, and she soon after voted herself a consti- tution, expressly excluding it; — and who supposed that slaves were likely to find their way to Utah ? Those countries were not suited to support the institution ; and the people, as well as their laws, were decidedly opposed to it. How can slavery be introduced into those territo- ries ? Whoever shall venture to carry his slaves thith- er, thereby makes them free. It has been decided by the 56 highest Court in the Union, that slavery is the creature of the municipal law. Without legal provisions it can- not exist. New Mexico and Utah have no more law for slavery, than has Massachusetts ; and are as much free countries, with this difference, that Massachusetts has the power to enact slavery, if she should so determine, which New Mexico and Utah cannot do, without the ap- proval of the general government. How then are slave- holders to gain such an ascendancy, as to pass laws cre- ating slavery, when they cannot carry a single slave into the country, and keep him such. In other words, how can New Mexico be made a slave country without slave- holders? And how can she have slaveholders, when, by her laws, no man can hold slaves ? The law is clear on the subject, and the result is inevitable. But Mr. Webster said, that the nature of these coun- tries rendered slavery impossible, — a region of lofty moun- tains, and narrow vales, — of streams which are dry a large part of every year, — of a soil that without irrigation, is barren ; where neither cotton, nor sugar, nor rice, — the great products of slave labor, — can be raised. There can be no doubt that Mr. Webster and those Northern men who acted in concert with liim, believed that slavery never could be introduced into New Mexico or Utah, and that the Wilmot Proviso was a mere hrutiiin fidmen ; — a taunt, irritating to the South, and useless to the North ; and under the circumstances of the country, only mischievous in its influences. The appropriate use of a proviso of that kind, is to be applied to a region likely to be occupied by slaves. When Texas was re- ceived into the Union, with the sure prospect of slavery, the Wilmot Proviso would have been sensible. 57 But Mr. Webster is charged with inconsistency because he had said he was unalterably opposed to the extension of slavery ; and had said that the Wilmot Proviso men were not entitled to take out a patent for this prohibition, as any invention of their's ; and that he had himself always acted upon it, and always intended to act upon it. But he never pledged himself to go for applying this pro- viso when it was unnecessary. This proviso is, in fact, not a principle. It is but a means to an end. If the end is attained, the proviso has no application, and is useless. What Mr. Webster did pledge himself to, was, opposi- tion to the extension of slavery. To this pledge he has ever been true. If thev who are so loud in their denun- ciations of him, had all been as true to that principle as he, when Texas was brought into the Union, the extension of slavery might possibly have been earlier hmited. But it is said, that Mr. Webster favored the present Fugitive slave law. Though not in the Senate, when the bill was actually passed, he may be considered as favoring the series of measures, of which this formed a part. In February, 1850, however, he prepared, or caused to be prepared, an act amendatory of the Fugitive act of 1793, and on the third of June, introduced it to the Senate, by whose order it was printed. This bill contained a pro- vision for a trial by jury, in all cases where the person claimed as a slave, should, " under oath, deny, that he owed service to the claimant." This bill was afterwards superseded by the bill of Mr. Mason, which was passed after Mr. Webster became Secretary of State. But a Fugitive slave law has been in force since 1793, which allowed no jury ; and, notwithstanding the clamor on this subject, there never has been a single authentica- 8 58 ted case, under the old law, or under the new, — so far as I have been able to learn, — where a free man has lost his liberty by it; and there is no probability that there ever will be such a case. Slave-holders are not about to ex- pose themselves to the hazards of coming to a Free State, to subject freemen to bondage. To reclaim their slaves, requires all their courage. No, the objection to this law goes against the Constitution itself It is not any appre- hension that free men Avill be carried into slavery, against the Constitution, but that slaves vnll be reclaimed, accord- ing to the Constitution. Mr. Webster held, and it was a ruling principle of ac- tion with him, that if we would have our Constitution perpetual, we must abide by, and observe it, — that if we would have its manifold blessings ourselves, we must per- form our duty under it, and not repudiate our solemn ob- ligations to others. Such were his views on this subject ; and there is no reason to doubt his sincerity. It was in perfect consistency with his whole life. He was undoubtedly, first, and last, and always, oppos- ed to slavery; but his mind never narrowed itself down to the idea of overturning this wide spread institution, by encouraging here and there a negro, to run away from his master. He took broader views of the subject. He may have been in error. But such were his principles, and they were undoubtedly honest. Love of country was a living, active principle, of his whole life. It overruled his party predilections; it overruled his sectional pre- judices; it inspired his mind with a high and glowing zeal, which encountered the greatest obstacles with hope and courage, and enabled him to stand alone, for his country, against the voice of his own friends, and even against the 59 voice of his own Massachusetts. It was this elevated and impartial character, that gave him so wide an influ- ence in the Union. The South saw and felt the noble principles of his conduct, and listened to his advice. They felt, that he was not contending for a victory over them, but for justice to all. The same elevation of char- acter, which gave him influence with foreign nations, and caused them to confide in his justice, gave him weight with those sections of the country, most distant from that where he was born, and where he resided. But how impotent and how absurd are the reproaches cast upon him by a class of deluded men, who declare that he has not been tme to the North ! Who of them all, has shown a steady and potent friendship to the North, to compare with him ? Nay, all of those who have sought to fill the ears of the public with maledictions against his fair fame, and who have labored hard to deprive the coun- try of the honor of producing the greatest man of the age, — what have they all done for freedom, or for the North, that could have entitled any one, or all of them, to lecture Daniel Webster on that subject, or that can warrant them now to malign his memory? Daniel Webster not a friend to the North! The his- tory of what he has done, and what he has been, for the North, and for the whole country, though he be now dead, will yet do for the North, — for old Massachusetts her- self, — what millions of such men, as are these his malign- ers, could not, and would not do, if they could live on earth forever. He not a friend to the North, and her in- stitutions ! What has his whole life been, but one living, glowing epistle, unto all men, of the merit, and glory of the North ? How poorly could the North spare the fame, 60 or the services, of Webster! Obliterate his name, char- acter, and services from the record of the last fifty years, and how differently would read the history of the United States ? But immeasurably greater would be the loss to the North, than to the South, by such an obliteration. The South would still have her Clay, and her Calhoun. But against slavery itself, Webster has rendered more substantial service, than any of these philanthropists. What he has said on that subject, has been read by mil- lions, and already, by more than one generation. When he met the South on the Foote resolution, he put slavery where it belonged, — the first on the catalogue of mighty evils; but he has not deemed it useful, or proper, to pur- sue the slave-holder, with abuse and invective. This, would be neither noble, nor fair, nor politic. Ranting about slavery, effects no good object. Indeed, the most famous of these declaimers against slavery and slave- holders in our country, have exerted no good influence on the minds of those who have the control of that institu- tion ; they have obtained some undeserved praise from one another ; they have caught some crumbs of office, that the two great parties could not agree how to distribute among themselves ; but the evidences of any good ac- complished by them for the slave, or the slave-holder, for the Free States, or the Slave States, or the United States, are altogether wanting. It has been Mr. Webster's misfortune, that he has stood peculiarly in the way of all that class of men, who were too much infatuated on any subject, to submit to the Con- stitution ; they did not like that instrument — he loved it, and always defended it, with his best efforts ; they agi- tated, and spoke a great deal, and but few read their lu- 61 cubrations ; he spoke, and the nation read, and gave heed to what they read. When these men were in a fair way to get up an excitement in Massachusetts, or in some other corner of the Union, a few sober and just words fitly spoken by him, bhghted their prospects. They have been pecuharly annoyed by him. Not that he has sought to annoy anybody, but, that as he preserved the even tenor of his own way, his influence has, incidentally, kept them in check. All the enemies of the Constitution hated Webster ; they could never derive any comfort from him. Especially was he odious to the disunionists of the north, because being himself from their vicinity, he was a more fatal extinguisher, to them, than any vSouthern man could be. They delighted in the opposition of the South. Indeed, opposition, from any source, exhilarated them. It caused a commotion, and kindled a flame, and gave them consequence and hope. It was this incidental extinguish- ment, which they detested. I would not be understood, as denying to many of this class of persons, sincere and honest purposes. I regard their doctrine as one of the numerous forms, which hu- man infatuation assumes, growing stronger and more in- tolerant, in proportion to the absurdity of the opinions upon which it is founded. Mr. Webster always gave them credit for sincerity and honesty, — a compliment they were not always careful to reciprocate. Mr. Webster loved the Union, and cherished it, as the ark of our liberties. Though conservative, he was not against progress. He* readily fell into the support of useful and liberal improvements. But he dared not let go the Con- stitution of our government, which he regarded as the 62 best gift from God to our fathers, and entirely consistent with the highest law, known on earth, or among men.* " We have another field to notice, in which Mr. Webster shone with original and peculiar lustre; His Orations and Addresses, on anniversary and other occasions, form a most important accession to American literature. The oration delivered by him, on the second centennial celebration of the landing of the Pilgrims, in the year 1820, was the first of that class of productions, which have been incorporated into his published works. That discourse combined the excellencies of the historian and the poet, with those of the orator. By the force of his imagination, the Pilgrims seemed to live again, and to pass in review before us. The imagination of Homer has clothed the heroes of Greece, and of Troy, with no more life-like characters, and with no more poetic interest, than those with which Webster has invested the Pilgrims and their early history. He caught the inspiration of the oc- casion. He comprehended and felt the full nature of the events and characters he celebrated. He stood on the rock of Plymouth, two hundred years from the day upon * Note : — It has been reported, since the decease of Mr. Webster, that he said before his death, that he had made a mistake in his seventh of March speech; and some newspapers liave given currency to the report. That it was a fiction, was manifest. But wishing authentic information, I addressed a note of inquiry to Mr. "Webster's son on the subject, and received the following reply: Boston, December 27, 1852. My Dkar Sir : — The report to which you refer, viz : that my father said he made a mistake in his seventh of March speech, is in eveiy respect nntrue. The assertion is false, and you have my authority for denying it. Had there been occasion, he would have done the thing over again. The belief that by that effort he had aided to preserve the Union, and restore good feeling throughout the country, cheered him to his latest hour. Alwavs vours, FLETCHER WEBSTER. 63 which that rock "received the feet of the Pilgrims," and his great heart heaved with genuine emotions, as he poured forth the true, and yet poetic thoughts, inspired in his heart, by the place, the time, and the assembly ; — com- mencing with the exclamation: "Let us rejoice that we behold this day! Let us be thankful that we have lived to see the bright and happy breaking of the auspicious morn which commences the third century of the history of New England, * * Forever honored be this, the place of our fathers' refuge. Forever remembered the day which saw them weary and distressed, — broken in every thing but spirit, poor in all but feith and courage, — at last secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and impres- sing this shore with the first footsteps of civilized man." And when he has introduced us to the puritans them- selves, and taught us thek character, the constancy of their faith, their sincerity, their perseverance, and the variety of their qualifications, and put in their mouths words which breathe the well known sentiments, we seem to hear those devoted patriarchs of New England exclaim, '' If God prosper us, if God prosper us, we shall here begin a work that shall last for ages ; we shall plant here a new society, in the principles of the fullest liberty and the purest religion; we shall subdue this wilder- ness which is before us; we shall fill this region of the great continent, which stretches almost from pole to pole, with civilization and Christianity; the temples of the true God shall rise, where now ascends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice; fields and gardens, the flowers of summer, and the waving and golden harvests of autumn, shall spread over a thousand hills, and stretch along a thousand valleys never yet, since the creation, 64 reclaimed to the use of civilized men. We shall whiten this coast with the canvas of a prosperous commerce; we shall stud the long and winding shore, with a hundred cities. That which we sow in weakness shall be raised in strength. From our sincere, but houseless worship, there shall spring splendid temples to record God's goodness; from the simplicity of our social union, there shall arise wise and politic constitutions of government, full of the liberty which we ourselves bring and breathe; from our zeal for learning, institutions shall spring, which shall scatter the light of knowledge throughout the land, and, in time, paying back where they have borrowed, shall con- tribute their part to the great aggregate of human knowl- edge; and our descendants, through all generations, shall look back to this spot, and to this hour, with unabated affection and regard." After sketching with historic accuracy, and poetic fer- vor, the events preceding the emigration of the Pilgrims to this country, and the causes of these events, and the purposes which led them to encounter the perils of the sea, and of the wilderness, and of the savages, and after tracing in a comprehensive form, and with a master hand, the consequences that had resulted from that early settle- ment to the century then past, and the consequences that would result from that event, to the centuries to come, with some important observations upon the true principles of our society and government, as well as upon our institutions and our duties under them, his audience are introduced into the august presence of their fithers who lived a hundred years ago, and of their descendants^ who shall live a hundred years hence, and running forward to the morning of the next centennial, the orator meets 65 the future generations "with cordial salutation, ere yet they have arrived on the shore of heing." " Advance, then, ye future generations ! We would hail you as you rise in your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste the blessings of ex- istence where we are passing, and soon shall have passed our own human duration. We bid you welcome to the pleasant land of the Fathers. We bid you welcome to the healthful skies and the verdant fields of New England. We greet your accession to the great inheritance which we have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of a good government and religious liberty. We welcome you to the treasures of science, and the delights of learning. We welcome you to the transcendant sweets of domestic life, to the happiness of kindred, and parents, and chUd- ren. We welcome you to the immeasurable blessings of national existence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and the light of everlasting truth." That greeting shall live from generation to generation, and as often as it shall be repeated on the 22nd of De- cember, shall gladden the hearts of the sons of the Pil- grims, wheresoever dispersed throughout the American Union, — whether on the Atlantic slope, on the Ohio, on the Lakes, on the Mississippi, on the Gulf of Mexico, on the Pacific, or at their own wintry homes m New England. And as it shall be wafted forward on the tide of time, from age to age, it will everywhere be received with the voice of acclamation and joy, by each new and rising gen- eration ; and the hearts of those who shall repair to the rock of Plymouth, on the morn of the third centennial, will swell with admiration and gratitude, as they shall ac- 9 6G cept that welcome, coming down to them from a former century. The rock may crumble and waste under the corroding power of time. But the oration of 1820 is of immortal material, and, surviving the rock itself, will prolong the memories of the Forefathers, when the granite bowlder of Plymouth has gone to everlasting decay. His next pubhc oration was delivered at the lajdng of the corner stone of the Bunker liill monument, in the year 1825. Here, again, he seems, first of all, to have con- ceived the true idea of the occasion. The first great bat- tle of the Revolution was to be celebrated on the ground where it was fought, and that spot was to be marked for immortaUty, and beautifully does he declare the purpose of that work. — " We come, as Americans, to mark a spot which must forever be dear to us and to our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all coming time, shall turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not undistinguish- ed where the first great battle of the Revolution was fought. We wish that labor may look up here and be proud, in the midst of its toil. * * We wish, finally, that the last object to the sight of him who leaves his na- tive shore, and the first to gladden the sight of him who revisits it, may be something which shtJl remind him of the liberty and glory of his country. Let it rise ! let it rise, till it meet the the sun in his coming; let the ear- liest light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and play on its summit." In this, as in all his productions, we find the love of America, and the American Union, which shines with the same intensity, in both his earlier and his later produc- tions. He does not turn the occasion to the purpose of G7 fostering the local pride of New England. He exalts a spirit of union and harmony, and seeks deeply to enforce the conviction and to cherish the habitual feeling that these States are but one country. The presence of Gen. Lafliyette, who was on his tour of the United States, added a peculiar interest to the oc- casion. The oration was published far and wide, and con- tributed largely to the completion of the monument itself, by the popularity awakened in its behalf But the oration delivered eighteen years after, on the completion of the monument, has always seemed to me, as a whole, to surpass the former. I cannot believe, how- ever, that ancient or modern oratory has furnished any specimens superior to either of them. Again we find him rapt with the inspiration of the oc- casion. The first great battle of the Revolution, with its causes and consequences, was all before him. Here, was realized his own definition of eloquence. Here was "the man, the subject, and the occasion." The monument was finished. There it stood, "rising over the land and over the sea," while he enrobed it with the dignity and moral grandeur of its well-known purpose, and made the monu- ment itself the orator of the occasion. With outstretch- ed arms, he gazed upon the lofty column, and said: "The powerful speaker stands motionless before us. It is a plain shaft. It bears no inscription.? fronting "the rising sun, from which the future antiquarian shall wipe the dust. Nor does the rising sun cause tones of music to issue from its summit. But at the rising of the sun, and at the setting of the sun, in the blaze of noon day, and beneath the milder effulgence of lunar light, it looks, it speaks, it acts, to the full comprehension of evexy Ameri- 68 can mind, and the awakening of glowing enthusiasm in every American heart. * * To-day it speaks to us. Its future auditories will be the successive generations of men, as they rise up before it and gather round it. Its speech will be of patriotism and courage ; of civil and re- ligious liberty; of free government; of the moral im- provement and education of mankind; of the immortal memory of those, who, with heroic devotion, have sacri- ficed their lives for their country." The same enthusias- tic love of the whole American Union, hallowed the rock of Plymouth in 1820, sanctified the corner stone in 1825, and now exalted the cap-stone, of the monument, in 1843. Who does not feel, that it was the man himself, with his own true natural impulses, that exclaimed, "Woe betide the man who brings to this day's worship, feeling less than wholly American! Woe betide the man who can stand here with the fires of local resentments burning, or the purpose of fomenting local jealousies and the strifes of local interest, festering and rankling in his heart." His love and reverence for Washington, which was only second to his love of the American Union, broke forth on this occasion in a passage of transcendant eloquence, which seems to exalt even the character of the illustrious father of his country. And finally, he closes the whole discourse, by teaching the ingenuous youth of after ages, the patriotic ejaculation, " Thank God, I — I also, — am an American." Itis impossible to conceive, of a more perfect embodiment of vivid, glowing patriotism, than is furnished by that dis- course. The CoUiseum and the Parthenon arose in an age of eloquence and of art. They have survived the dark ages. 69 But who the orator was, that expressed the sentiment of the occcasion of the commencement, or of the completion, of those grand and classic structures, we are as ignorant as we are of the purpose of the erection of the pyramids. When the Colliseum and the Parthenon shall have per- ished, the monument of Bunker Hill will live in the clas- sic eloquence of the orations with which it has been con- secrated. The oration upon the death of Adams and Jefferson, was delivered in 1826, and like each of the three orations I have last referred to, stands out from the literary pro- ductions of the age, a classic work of genius and art. No statue of Phidias, or of Powers, is more perfect and complete, or delightful to contemplate. Its colossal gran- deur does not impair its beauty. The imagination per- formed its work here, as at Plymouth, and as at Bunker Hill. Their part in the Declaration of Independence, which was the "crowning mercy" of the lives of tliese immortal sages and patriots, was re-produced, in a style so true to their characters, so true to the history and spirit of 1776, and so truly eloquent, that we almost cease to regret, that the thunders of the eloquence of John Adams, in the Congress of '76, were never reported; nay, we deem it fortunate, that an occasion was thus furnished to the genius of Webster, to enrich the literature of our country, with one of his happiest productions. To make a speech for old John Adams, was a bold undertaking. It was not like the writing of speeches for the generals and dema- gogues of Rome, or of Greece, to incorporate in Roman or Grecian history. Neither Livy, nor Thucydides, or Xenophon, ever put words in the mouth of such a man 70 as John Adams. But the attempt of Mr. Webster was not more daring^ than it was successful; and the elo- quence of Adams will be known to posterity more effec- tually through this single production of his eulogist, than from all the history of the times, or even from his own works. Henceforth, no power on earth can separate the the name of Webster, from the name of Adams and Jef- ferson. That history of the life and death of Adams and Jefferson, which should omit the name of Webster, would be imperfect; and the biographer of Webster, as he de- lineates his character, and follows down the course of his illustrious life, will pause to inform his readers that Adams and Jefferson, who were so happy in leaving this earth together, on the anniversary of their own glorious Dec- laration of Independence, were equally fortunate in their eulogist, by whose eloquence, their memories, which were before immortal, have received a richer fragrance and a more enchanting beauty. Mr. Webster's speech at a public dinner on the centen- nial of the birth of Washington, in 1832, has united his name to that of the father of our country, by ties that can never be shaken. He has often, on other public oc- casions, recurred to the character of Wasliington, with the most ardent love and filial reverence. No man has pro- nounced such breathing thoughts and burning words, over the memory of Washington, as Webster. Washington had cherished the same uncompromising, undying passion for the Union, whole and entire, which Webster loved from his earliest youth, and which he continued to love with increasing ardor to the end of life. This centennial discourse in honor of Washington, is replete with patri- otic sentiment. He contrasts the character of Washing- 71 ton, mth "the hundreds whom party excitement, and temporaiy circumstances, and casual combinations, have raised into transient notoriety, and who sink again, like thin bubbles, bursting and dissolving into the great ocean, while Washington's fame is like the rock which bounds that ocean, and at whose base its billows are destined to break harmlessly forever." We cannot, on the present occasion, longer delay in the dehghtful field of his literary taste and genius. His introductory lecture, read in the year 1828, be- fore the Boston Mechanics' Institution, displaying new powers of mind, as it opened a new field of exertion ; his great speech at Niblo's Garden in New York, in 1837, combining the best and highest specimens of his style, with the most important discussion of political and Con- stitutional principles, in which he created and consecrated the motto, "that we have one countr}^, one Constitution, one destiny;" his speech in Fanueil Hall, on the oOth of September, 1842, after the completion of the treaty with Great Britain, made in the midst of the obloquy and slanders heaped upon him, as a remaining member of Mr. T} ler's cabinet, and in the face of the leaders of the Whig party, who demanded his resignation of office, — a speech, beautiful in its style, and of the most intense in- terest for its matter, and exhibiting a peculiar instance of moral courage, of which I know not that our country has iurnished any other like example ; his speech at a public dinner in Philadelphia, in 1846, containing an elaborate discussion of his doctrine of improving the rivers and har- bors of the country, the liberahty of which ought ever to endear his memory to the people of the West ; the address delivered at the laying of the corner stone of the 72 addition to the Capitol, on the Fourth of July, 1851, abounding in useful historical reminiscences a.id reflec- tions, as well as new incitements to patriotism, and to love of the Union ; his address at the triennial celebra- tion of the Royal Agricultural Society of England, at Ox- ford, in the year 1839 ; and his discourse in the State House in Boston, on the agriculture of England, after his return from Europe, in the same year, which surprises us with the extent of his observations and knowledge on that important subject, and discloses how near to his heart, lay the agricultural interests of his own country; — all of these, with numerous other addresses on similar occasions, rich in every merit of oratory, taste, patriotism, and genius, we must leave untouched, to delight those who shall find time to read and to study them for themselves. One other literary production, however, has presented his intellectual power and acquirements in an aspect so new and surprising, as to forbid our omitting to mention it. I refer to the discourse read before the Historical Society in New York, but a few months before his decease. History was his theme, and by his clear and broad defi- nitions and his happy illustrations of history itself, as well as by his critical comments upon the great authors of the world, both ancient and modern, both in history and in poetry, he discloses a part of the secret of his own literary taste and power. This work, was wholly aside from his accustomed sphere of public effort. It was a new devel- opment of the wonderful fertility of his mind in his old age, which, like the great tragedy of "(Edipus at Colon," composed by Sophocles in his old age, and read before his judges, to prove himself of sound mind, disproves, be- yond controversy, all intellectual decay in Mr. Webster, 73 if it does not establish an absolute growth of mental power, to the last. I have thus imperfectly sketched the works of Mr. Webster in the several departments of his greatness, as a lawyer, as a legislator, as a diplomatist and statesman, as an orator and author. As a man, Mr. Webster had, with high intellectual cul- tivation, a heart filled with simple, natural impulses. He loved nature with enthusiasm, and wherever he went, had an eye to observe her. Natural aftection was strong in him. Father, mother, brothers, sisters, children, when they lived, were ever dear to him, and when they died, he never ceased to cherish their memories. It was this, which led him to purchase and keep the homestead of his father in New Hampshire, where were the graves of the family, and to which every year he could repair and re- new his remembrances of his dear departed kindred. His mother's garden, he preserved as carefully as if she were alive, at whatever cost. That " excellent mother," who breathed into his youthful mind aspirations far above his early condition, and urged him forward in the rugged path of improvement, was never absent from his memory. His heart was large and generous, and " floated in a deep sea of human affections," which knew no ebb while life continued. His first humble earnings were not hoarded, nor enjoyed by himself, but were consecrated to the education of his brother Ezekiel. Even in old age, he retained the feelings and sentiments instilled into his mind in childhood, by his parents. From them, he had early learned to reverence the Supreme Being. No pro- fane word, even in the stormiest periods of his life, es- caped his hps. They were religious persons. Death found 10 74 him, also, a christian. The calmness and dignity of his dying hours, the unwavering faith in God, the earnest and emphatic testimony to the truth of the Bible, the clear Hght of his full orbed intellect as it descended to the horizon of time, beaming with the radiance of reli- gious and philosophical truth, formed a sublime and beau- tifal period to his career on earth, and have left upon the public mind an unhiding image of the great and the good in man, not surpassed, in value, by his most splendid achievements. Of his mind, it may be said, that it was remarkable alike, for its powers of analysis, and of generalization. The most complicated subjects, of which ordinary minds could form no clear and satisfactory conception, under his inspection fell apart into their elements, " discreet and distinct," every element retaining its just proportion, and all equally simple and comprehensible ; and when he had satisfied his own intellectual gaze in upon the mys- teries of the subject, and had chosen his language, in which to present it to other minds, the whole confusion and complication were dispelled and gone. Take, for instance, the doctrine of State sovereignty, and State subordination to our United States government, under the Constitution. There was a time, when that subject was so difficult, that the nation was greatly divided upon it, and when it seemed, that the NuUifiers had a fair prospect of prevailing, under the plausible notion, that there was impliedly reserved to the States by the Consti- tution, a right to nullify laws which were unconstitutional, and that inasmuch as the States, as well as the United States, were sovereign, they were to be considered parties to the Constitution, as a compact, between independent iO bodies ; and that being so, each State was as much en- titled to the privilege of deciding what was constitutional and what was unconstitutional, as was the United States ; and this, it was claimed, was the true construction of that instrument. Many other considerations were thrown in, to make the question complex and mysterious. The whole subject came to be regarded as extremely deep, and difficult, if not quite unfathomable. Mr. Webster brought to bear upon it, first, the power of his analysis, and afterwards, the power of his language, to explain to others what he so clearly comprehended himself; and the subject at once lost all its difficulty, and the only wonder in the mind of the reader of the debate between Hayne and Webster^ is, that there should ever have been any question about it. Indeed, it is not unfrequently said, that Mr. Webster has had quite too much credit for that ef- fort, as the subject was so plain that it argued itself, and any other man could have done the same thing. Few subjects have been submitted to his analysis, and been expounded by his language, which were ever after com- plicated in any such sense, as that they could not be well understood. It is thus that he has made plain the great principles of our Constitution, and cut deep the channels in which our government is to run, we hope forever. The adoption of the Constitution of the United States by our forefathers, left a most important duty to be per- formed by the next generation. That fundamental law was to be construed and defended in its true meaning. This last duty is just as essential as the original adoption of the instrument. Though not born to make the Con- stitution, Mr. Webster has lived in the period of time. 70 when that Constitution was to receive its construction ; and to that construction he has contributed, not by official power, but by the unassisted force of his own rea- son, and argument, and eloquence. The greatest constitutional contests, which have estab- lished the meaning of that instrument on points of tran- scendant importance, were fought by him, when in a mi- nority. In the great debate on Foote's Resolution, his contest was against fearful odds. But he carried convic- tion to the hearts and minds of Gen. Jackson and the People, and established his own opinions, as the law of the land. The magnitude of the service rendered in expounding truly the Constitution, and defending it against perver- sion, cannot well be over estimated. This is the funda- mental law. Statutes are made and unmade, with the rising and falling of this or that party, and change with the ceaseless fluctations of Congress. But the Constitu- tion abides, and is to afiect the destiny of the nation while it exists. For this great service Mr. Webster seems to have been raised up. With Marshall on the Bench, and Webster at the Bar and in the Senate, our Constitution has received its construction and direction for ages. Lesser minds may now administer it with comparative safety. Webster, having discovered the great land-marks along the Constitutional coast, has taught them to future navi- gators ; and wherever there are hidden rocks and shoals, he has raised high and brilliant beacon-lights that avlII shine forever. But it may be doubted whether even Webster could have satisfactorily performed this work for his country, without a Calhoun and a Hayne. How much more effectually have the doctrines of Secession and 77 Nullification been overthrown, than they could ever have been, if they had been advocated by men of less ability? Who, in after times, will attempt to support a doctrine, which Calhoun could not maintain ? Webster and Cal- houn were born for that service, and thoroughly have they performed it. But Mr. Webster saw, that, to render our government permanent, beside a just construction of its powers, it wanted a careful cultivation in the minds of the people, of regard and reverence for our institutions ; a pride in our common national renown ; a patriotic admiration and love of our glorious Union, as well as a spirit of concilia- tion and harmony. It was with this view, that he poured forth among his fellow citizens, his fervid thoughts, ever exalting the " liberty and union " of our own happy land, with a love of country, which knew no bounds but the entire Union, which never became weary, nor cold, nor impatient, and which warmly cherished a spirit of friend- ship between opposing sections of the Union. Here was no pretence ; no hollow hearted professions to catch the popular favor. It was a genuine passion which could not be repressed, and which over-rode all other considerations. He spoke the sentiments of his heart on all matters of public moment, cut where they might. He had thought for the age and country in which he lived too long, to fear to give the expression of his true sentiments. He claimed this immunity for himself No man, therefore, was ever more frank and fearless in the utterance of his undisguised sentiments, than he. But it has been said that he was ambitious ; and it has been inferred that because he was ambitious, he was, there- fore, not honest in the measures he advocated. It is also 78 said that it was an unpardonable weakness in him, to de- sire the Presidency, as it could not add to his fame. It seems to be considered criminal in one so great to aspire to office. Such aspirations are to be left to meaner per- sons, who have small qualifications, and no principle. I must beg leave to differ from the tenor of these opinions on the general subject of ambition. God has planted in man all the passions of the human heart, and among them, ambition ; and none is more indispensable to his useful- ness than this. What man ever accomplished anything valuable without it ? All created intelligences have it. The angels are not destitute of it. If they were, they would|be too inanimate to fulfil their heavenly destiny. Ambition for high office is tolerated by such political censors, without complaint, in inferior men, whose chief qualification is their ambition. But the instant it is sus- pected that a man of high qualifications seeks a corres- ponding office, he is condemned as ambitious, and all his acts are regarded with distrust and disparagement. Undoubtedly, ambition, like all the other passions, may be indulged to excess. It is a powerful passion, and needs to be under the control and guidance of principle. I have always supposed that Mr. Webster had in his heart a lofty and well sustained ambition ; not like that of the majority of men, because his tastes and his ideas were different from theirs ; not vulgar, not captivated with show or flattery, but grand and peculiar, suited to his na- ture. I have never doubted, that his first ambition was to excel all competitors in merit. Hence, he added to the greatness of his natural endowments, great industry and high cultivation. I have never believed that his ambition was for the glitter, and show, and honor of office. That 79 was not the object he sought ; and yet he desked office. His first, his chief ambition, was to build up for himself great attainments, great services, a great character, and as a consequence, great f ime. But he never coveted anything not founded on adequate merit. He sought no promotion, till he had earned it, nor until he was thor- oughly prepared for the discharge of the duties it devolved upon him, and then he did desire it. And he was right. He could not make his great powers useful to the world, without position, nor could he cultivate those powers to their highest perfection without opportunity. There were those who thought they saw an unjustifia- ble ambition in Mr. Webster, even in his taking the office of Secretary of State, in 1841, and regretted that he had not declined any Cabinet appointment, remaining in the Senate. If he had followed such suggestions, how much of high service the country would have lost, and how mighty an accession to his own fame would have been rejected. Besides, his own powers would have lacked their full de- velopment, which he valued more than riches or honors. But when he had satisfied himself, and had shown the world of what he was capable, in the department of State, and had stopped the mouths of those who had said he lacked the power of originating great measures, he still was not satisfied. He desired the Presidency. There are those who cannot see why Daniel Webster, who tow- ered so far above the incumbents of that office and above his competitors, should desire the Presidency. But he was unquestionably right in supposing that the highest office in the gift of the American people would crown his fame as a public character. If he became no greater by the exercise of his powers in the executive office, his position 80 would have been more elevated in the eyes of the world. It would have been an aeknoAvledgment from his country, which he had ever loved and served, before the nations of the earth, that his vast fame was well deserved. It would have made his character and life, not greater, but more conspicuous and elevated in the sight of mankind. " Pyr- amids are pyramids in vales," but they look down on the surrounding world still more imposing from an emi- nence. The most stupendous structures of the earth, owe much to the sites upon which they stand. Undoubtedly Mr. Webster was ambitious to be Presi- dent. He thought he bad earned that distinction by his services. He thought the Presidency an office worthy of his ambition. He thought, he could accomplish some- thing in that position honorable to the nation ; and add something to the stability of the American Union. But he never sought promotion by the intrigues and arts usual with candidates for that position. He dis- paraged no man, and suffered no slander against his rivals which he could prevent. " I thank God," said he, " that if I am gifted with little of the spirit, which is able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as I trust, of that other spirit, which would drag angels down." His ambition for the Presidency was secondary to his desire for true excellence. Much as he would have been pleased with the first office in the gift of the American people, he would never have purchased it, by a sacrifice of any portion of his well earned fame. " The past, at least," he intended to keep "secure." But what exalts him above competition, and adds lustre to all his achievements, is that he has made himself the classical character of our country, and, may I not say, of 81 our age; — classic as an orator, as an author, as a states- man, as a patriot, as a man. His style of (haught, of ex- pression, and of action, had ever a classic grace which hallowed whit h3 said, and whit he did, ;uid made it !ifc for perpetual remembrance. His taste was not canfined to his composition and oratory. His farm bore evidence of his cLis-iic taste on all its spacious fields. Every room of his residence was made interesting and delightful, wiih the same all-pervading sense of the beautiful and appro- priate. His thoughts would be read, for their own iiitiin- sic v.duc and beauty, in whatever style they might be couched ; and his style of oratory and writing would at- tract the attention of mankind and be read, if the topics of thought were as remote from any practical use tc us, as are the subjects of the eloquence of Demosthenes and of Cicero. Men will never cease to be charmed with the classic beauties of these two ancient orators. Never will th^y want readers, while a literary taste is culuvated among men. They have already survived the middle ages; they have survived the interest in the topics of which they spoke ; they have survived the memories of all contem- porary orators; they have long survived the governments under which they flourished, and all the institutions of their time. There were not wanting numerous orators in ancient Greece, — men of eminence and renown, whose productions were well regarded in their day. But Demos- thenes comes down to us through the dark night of bar- barism, alone. Rome had many famous orators, before and after Cicero, and in his time, — men of high integrity and of distinguished eloquence, but Cicero alone, of the Roman orators, stands on the shelves of modern libraries. Bah of these ancient classic orators, have delighted thj 11 82 scholars, and contributed to the great work of forming the taste, of every succeeding age since their time. In all antiquity, embracing many nations of people, and many centuries of time, but two truly classic orators have been produced. How enviable their destiny ! The light of their classic minds shines brightly yet, upon our pathway, dififasing a pleasant and useful influence wherever civiliza- tion and refinement are known. Who can estimate the vast aggregate of influence, which has already been shed abroad on the world throughout the twenty centuries past; and which wifl be rained on all future ages, and on all civilized nations, hereafter, by these two solitary classic orators of antiquity ? I might speak of them as the medium through which much of the history of those an- cient Republics has been brought down to cur times. I might speak of the elevation and dignity they have each conferred upon his age and country. Greece and Rome are judged from the specimens which have come down to us. The nation that produced a Demosthenes, or a Cicero, we involuntarily regard as learned, refined, eloquent, classic. The world never cares to reflact, that Greece has produced but one Demosthenes, and Rome but one Cicero, and that of all their other orators, none are read, and but few have been preserved, even in parchment, to our times. By Demosthenes, Greece is known and judged; and by Cicero, Rome is known and judged. Webster is our American classic. By him our country is hereafter to be known aud judged, in respect of those qualities and attainments which have found in him their model; and by him she is already known and judged, to no small extent, in other nations of the earth. He has taken his place by the side of DLmosthenes and Cicero, 83 and henceforth will shine as a fixed star of the first mag- nitude in the pure sky of classic literature. I hope I shall not be deemed disloyal to the supremacy of Greece and Rome, when I add, that in my opinion, his light is destined to out-shine that of the ancient orators. All . his eloquence is informed with the spirit of modern pat- triotism, and modern intelligence, and deals in truths that are of practical importance to all who read, and will con- tinue to be of practical importance, at least, so long as the "hberty and union," of the United States shall con- tinue. The ancient classics live now mainly in their literary excellence. We do not resort to them for in- struction in the true principles of Republican government, . or for just ideas of patriotism or of science. The works . of our American orator, combine the delights of taste and genius, with the enlightened principles of a civilization and a liberty, such as neither Greece, nor Rome, in her best days, ever saw ; with the golden treasures of useful knowledge; and with a fervor of patriotism, which, uncon- fined by sectional limits, " Spreads undivided, operates unspent," comprehending all that is American, and regarding with equal intensity the East, the West, the North, and the South, of thi:' great Republic. Here is a body of classic literature, the like of which can hardly be found in the productions of any man, in any country of modern, or of ancient times ; and the value of which to mankind cannot be measured by any of the usual conceptions of human greatness and human achievement. If we compare it, with the life and services of the men of the greatest achieve- ments, in military and political Hfe ; if we compare it with a 84 Wellington, — the comparison is vain. For, although the illustrious Duke, rendered high services to his country, awakened the highest enthusiasm, and secured perpetual admiration, among men, enriching the history of the world with his renown, both as a soldier and as a states- man, how little has he left to form the taste, and guide the genius, of the future generations of mankind ! [lis- tory will speak eloquently of his achievements, and pos- terity may read that history with admiration and delight; but where are his own great thoughts ? Alas, he has not clothed them in the language of classic literature, which, alone, could render them immortal. But the Duke will fare as well, in this respect, with posterity, as the great mass of orators, and statesmen, and writers. Time is severe in his criticisms, and condemns almost all the orators of the earth to a short lived existence. He allows them to live as statesmen, as soldiers, as men of renown, to adorn the brightest pages of their countries' history, but when they ask to live in their own proper words and thoughts, to be read as orators and writers, he frowns upon their presump- tion, and buries their speeches in the grave which receives their mortal bodies. Few and far between, are those angel visits of genias, to our earth, which touch with im- mortality human eloquence, and preserve it to after ages, " 'gainst the tooth of time, And razure of oblivion." SQ )^^ .:^ ^ ..-^ ^ •J ^ * O N O • o • » .^' J* --mi O K O - . V ' V .^ ♦:^ .■x;-. /t-3 . ^ ^ f^-- ■^'j^- V.,-. '^ o :^/ .<^^ .^ ."^ o. ■ N O ^^ ■^o V ■^-, i'J*' 4.^ p ^A^ 5> ' v^' , \ '%^y :0Mh^i '^- ■* V vp- ° •:■" -r v-i' * '^ ^^ -.-.£../ ■ ■) ^^ 0'' 0^ O ^_.:7, -•^^^ \' \' v/ ^'^%. — — ■»., w. WERT BOOKBINDING JAN !:-';vi CirafilvJHe;PA * -A ,-.^? .1 C" ,'•<