UBRARY OF CONGRESS DDDD57E773A ♦ aO' \ ^c *\^ ^S'' f oV^ «. ti ''bv^ *^r *^^. ■ ^ ^•^v^^' 9 ^ •7^ vV / ^^. -> ... I .1* -^..0^ -J^ .^^°- •e^ .v^ - i • Ay <^^ * O • O " )^..!.^' ^^ V c ^'- %.*^ ^ i\ <' ^ ^/TS^-^^ie/^^^/^ €lit (Brut rnmtntnlinn SERMON IN COMMEMORATION OF D A N I p] L WEBSTER, DELIVERED IN CAMBRIDGE, ON SUNDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 21, 1852, BY REV. WILLIAM! A^ STEARNS. Noster hie dolor, nostrum vulnus. BOSTON AND CAMBRIDGE : JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY. 1852. E34-0 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, bj' James Munroe & Co., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. JOB* FORD AST) CO.. PRINTKai), CAXBRISOBPORT. Cambridgeport, Nov. 22, 1852. Ret. "William A. Steakns, Dear Sir, — The undersigned, having been appointed a Committee for that purpose, respectfully solicit your compliance with the desire, very generally expressed by the Congregation, that you will furnish for publication a copy of the Discourse, delivered yesterday morning, on the Life and Character of Daniel Webster. Very respectfully, WILLIAM FISK, T. B. BIGELOW, AMBROSE CHAMBERLAIN, AARON RIC^, JAMES ATWOOD. " Magno in populo cum ssepe coorta est Seditio, saevitque animis ignobile vulgus; Turn, pietate gravcra ac mentis si forte virum quem Conspexcre, silent, arrcctisque auribus adstant. Ille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet. " Lucem redde tuse, Dux Bone, patriae ; Instar veris enim, vultus ubi tuus Affulsit populo, gratior it dies, Et soles melius nitent." '• Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth / alone ; but if it die it bringeth forth much fruit." SERMON. GENESIS 50: 10. AND THERE THET MOCRN'KD WITH A GREAT AND TERY SORE LAMENTAT10>f. The patriarch was dead. Joseph and his brethren and his father's house, the servants of Pharaoh, the elders of the court and of the country, chariots and horsemen, in all a very great company, went up from Egypt to Canaan to bury Jacob. And when they came to the threshing-floor of Atad, which is beyond Jordan, the funeral procession paused, and gave itself up to mourning, insomuch that the inhabitants of the land said " This is a grievous mourning to the Egyptians." A more than patriarchal mourning has just been wit- nessed among us. For depth of sorrow, for the numbers afflicted, for simplicity in the mode of expressing grief, the scenes at the floor of Atad give precedence to the recent scenes at Marshfield. There lay the great states- man of America, beneath the trees before his mouvsion door, in the silent majesty of death. That eye, which sometimes seemed as lightning from a thunder-cloud, was shut ; those lips, for wdiose accents millions have listened entranced, were stiff and motionless. The glow 6 had passed from his cheek ; the heart, whose throbbings was felt by nations, had become as a rock; and death reigned over the mortal man. No pageantry at- tended the obseqnies. No cannon, nor mnffled drum, nor tolling bells, nor ranks of soldiery, nor bands of music, nor ostentatious tears announced that one of the greatest of tlie earth had fallen. But there gathered around that reverend form thousands and thousands of afflicted hearts. All the morning they were coming in. Massachusetts was there, New England was there, the country was there. The hills around were blackened with multitudes coming in on foot — the roads were fdled and the valleys crowded with vehicles bringing mourners from near and from afar. Around the re- mains of the great man, in and about his dwelling, down the avenues, and over his grounds, thronged the crowd. Silence reigned ; sorrow was on every countenance ; the nation's heart stood still. Nature sympathized. The great tree, through whose thick summer foliage the departed was accustomed to gaze into the heavens and worship, drooped with its mighty naked branches to the ground. Two weeping elms, which the statesman had planted and named for his dead children, Edward and Julia, stood u\) like statues in tears. The forests and shrubbery, smitten with autumnal frosts, liad put on their mourning garments, and the sere leaves were i an emergency he was never unprepared, — but it consisted in a power of fixed attention and concentra- tion combined with sound judgment applied to a subject, till he saw through, and all over it, and could bring it forth into luminous perception. Of course, he was a severe student. From bovhood to old age, he applied himself to books, to observation, to reflection. His mind was disciplined by classical 12 stud-e?. The influence of the Grecian and Eoman models is manifest in ahnost all his productions. The appropriateness of his classical allusions and citations has often been remarked. His recent address before the New York Historical Society shows how greatly he was indebted to the severe training of a thorough col- legiate course. A single quotation in that address, tak- en from Sallust and applied to the exiled Hungarian, then filling the land with his touching plaints, has brought tears, I doubt not, to the eyes of a thousand scholars. I cannot dwell on this point. Mr. Webster must have been a great man under almost any circum- stances ; but he never could have gone down to posterity as the compeer of Demosthenes, had he been ignorant of the Grecian and the Eoman masters. His intellect was also disciplined by the tough theorems of jurispru- dence, by the severe conflicts of the bar, and the habit of accurate investigation which the practice of law re- quires ; while at the same time his mind was enriched by a vast amount of general reading; God made him capable of becoming great ; Mr. Webster made himself what God designed him to be. You must add to his intellectual qualities a quality of heart. Mere intellect is hardly fitted for popular impression. He was a man of strong passions, colossal in emotion as well as understanding. Feeling impelled him to action. What he loved, he loved with all the strength of his great heart. He loved with a childish tenderness. You see his nature when a boy of fifteen. His flither then informed him of his intention to give 13 him an education. " I remember," says Mr. Webster, "the very hill which we were ascending, through deep snows in a New-England sleigh, when my father made known this purpose to rae. I could not speak. How could he, I thought, with so large a family, and in such narrow circumstances, think of incurrino; so ffreat an ex- pense for me. A warm glow ran all over me. I laid my head on my father's shoulder and wept."* Ilis nature is seen in the gigantic emotions with which he struggled when called to part with his children ; in the love which he often expressed for surviving kindred ; in the affec- tions of his dying hours ; in his keen sensibility to the in- gratitude of his fellow-men. With these intense feelings did he love his country ; next to his Creator, I know not that he loved anything so well. This free country, the Union, the Constitution, were regarded by him w^ith a veneration and affection approaching worship. Love of country was an element of his greatness. I speak of it here only in this respect. It is greatness itself It brings out greatness. Setting great motives before the mind, it stimulates to great actions. To Mr. Webster, it was an inspiration. It glowed in his soul, gave eloquence to his speech, and made toil in the service of patriotism a pleasure. Let us now look at some of the products of that won- derful mind. Of the published works of Mr. Webster, we have several large volumes. He has not, like Cicero, written numerous treatises in retirement. But like De- mosthenes nearly all his productions are the result of * Biographical memoir by Edward Everett. 14 liis interest in great legal questions and public affairs. Looking at these works merely as the fruits of the hu- man mind, as we would look at the works of Homer or Shakspeare or Lord Bacon, — and so as of value to other countries and to all ages, — there is nothing in the English language which surpasses them. They are models of their kind for all time. Strength of intellect, concentration of thought, propriety of arrangement, perspicuity- and power of expression, and a certain noble- ness of sentiment characterize them. His appeals are addressefl, not usually to the passions of men, but, like the Grecian orator, to their honor, their sense of justice, their resrard for rio;ht and truth and the interests of the countr}^ He seems to breathe, when he speaks, in the pure, bracing mountain air of duty. There is sublimity and majesty in his mental movements, and an elevated, healthful spirit ia almost every paragraph. The impression made on the mind by different writers is various. Some interest, but excite no reflection ; some infuse discontent ; some deaden, rather than quicken the moral sensibilities, and some drag the mind downward, instead of inspiring right emotion. An author's spirit seems to linger about his words and impart itself to them who read. The writings of Mr. Webster are always elevating, always invigorating. We seem con- scious of intellectual expansion in studying them. They exalt the mind, and stimulate to great efforts and patri- otic deeds. Towering and sublime, they stand before us like the monument at whose base their author more than once addressed the world. 15 Viewed in this light, let us thank God for such a mind and such fruits. Worthy to be studied by all nations and in all ages, they are especially adapted to the edu- cation of American youth. Thousands of school-boys know many passages of them by heart, and tens of thousands in future days will repeat these words of power. They will be studied as models of parliamentary address, juridical demonstration, and fervid oratory^ They will have an almost unbounded influence on com- ing times. And I thank God that the youth of this and of future generations will imbibe from these writings no scurrility, no infidelity, no moral impurity, no irreverence towards the Creator and the Sacred Scriptures. Most of them are not, indeed, strictly speaking, religious writings; they are not on strictly religious subjects, but they abound in just sentiments concerning duty, and exhibit a profound veneration for the Ruler of all. One passage on the power of conscience is terrific. It may be found in the opening paragraphs of the Knapp case. It begins with the words, " He has done the murder. No eye has seen him nor ear has heard him. The secret is his own, and it is safe. Ah, gentlemen, that was a dread- ful mistake. Such a secret can be safe nowhere. The whole creation of God has neither nook nor corner where the guilty can bestow it and say that it is safe." The pas- sage is too long for quotation at this moment. But as showing the horrors of conscience there is nothing in Macbeth superior to it. I know nothing in the lan- guages of men surpassing it. The closing paragraph 16 of that tremendous plea is less terrible, but hardly less sublime. Urging the jury to bring in a verdict accord- ing to their sense of duty, he says, " With consciences satisfied with the discharge of duty, no consequences can harm you. There is no evil that Ave cannot either fiice or ily from, but the consciousness of duty disre- garded. " A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent like the Deity. If we take to ourselves the wungs of the morning and dwell in the utmost part of the seas, duty performed or duty violated is still with us, for our hap- piness or our nliser3^ If we say the darkness shall cover us, in the darkness as in the light our obhgations are yet with us. We cannot escape their power nor fly from their presence. They are with us in this life, w411 be with us at its close ; and in that scene of inconceivable solemnity Avhich is yet farther onward, we shall find ourselves surrounded by the consciousness of duty, to pain us Avherever it has been violated, and to console us so far as God may have given us grace to perform it." Similar thoughts may be found, though for the most part briefly expressed, in almost all the Avorks of Webster. His profound regard for the Sacred Scriptures Avas often manifested. On one occasion he had an opportunity in the Avay of professional duty, to express his sentiments on the Christian religion and its institutions at consider- able length. Most sacredly was that opportunity im- proved. Stephen Girard, a man of vast Avealth, had be- queathed a great sum of money to the city of Philadelphia, in trust, for the establishment of an Orphan College, from 17 which special instruction in Christianity^, and the minis- ters of reUgion of all denominations should be excluded. Mr. Webster appeared as counsel, before the Supreme Court of the United States, in opposition to the will, on the ground that such a bequest is no charity, and therefore cannot legally be held as such. The plea is really a plea for the Christian ministry and the religious education of the young. In it he brings powerfully to view the existr ence of God, the immortality of the soul, responsibility in another world for our conduct in this, the divine authority of the New Testament, of which, says he, referring to the words of Dr. Paley, " a single word from the New Testa- ment, shuts up the mouth of human questioning, and ex- cludes all human reasoning.'' '• In no case," he says, "ac- cording to the law of England, a man that has no belief in future rewards and punishments, for virtues or vices, is allowed to be a witness, twr ought he to be." He quotes w^th approbation the words of John Foster, in which he insists that the minds of children ought early to "be taken possession of by just and solemn ideas of their relation to the eternal Almighty Being ; that they may be taught to apprehend it as an awful realit}* ; that they are per- petually under His inspection ; and as a certainty that they must at length appear before Him in judgment and find in another life the consequences of what they are in spirit and conduct here." I shall present one or two passages more, though of considerable length, not only as showing the man, but for the sentiments which thev contain. " My learned friend has referred with propriety to one 3 18 of the commandments of the Decalogue ; but there is another, a liist counnandment, and that is a precept of rehoioii, and it is in subordhiation to this, that the moral precepts of the Decalogue are proclaimed. This first great counnandment teaches men that there is one and only one great first Cause — one and only one proper object of human worship. This is the great, the ever fresh, the overfiowing fountain of all revealed truth. Without it human life is a desert, of no known termina- tion on any side, but shut in on all sides by a dark and impenetrable horizon. Without the light of this truth man knows nothing of his origin and nothing of his end. And when the Decalogue was delivered to the Jews, wdtli this great announcement and command at its head, what said the inspired lawgiver ? — that it should be kept from children ? " Mr. Girard would have no religious instruc- tion given to a child till he was eighteen years of age — till, indeed, he had left the walls of the Girard College. " That it should be reserved as a communication fit only for mature age ? Far, far otherwise. ' And these words which I command thee this day, shall be in thy heart. And thou slialt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shall talk of them when thou sittest in thy house, and when thou walkest b}^ the way, when thou liest down and when thou risest up.' '' There is an authority still more imposing and aw- ful. When little children were Ijrought into the presence of the Son of God, his disciples proposed to send them away ! but he said ' Suffer little children to come unto me ' — unto me ; he did not send them first for les- 19 sons in morals to the schools of the Pharisees or to the unbelieving Sadclucees, nor to read the precepts and les- sons phylacteried on the garments of the Jewish priest- hood ; he said nothing of different creeds or clashing doctrines ; but he opened at once to the youthful mind the everlasting fountains of living waters, the only source of immortal truths ; ' Suffer little children to come wito me' And that injunction is of perpetual obligation. It addresses itself to-day with the same earnestness and the same authority wliich attended its first utterance to the Christian world. It is of force everywhere and at all times. It extends to the ends of the earth, it will reach to the end of time, always and everywhere sounding in the ears of men, with an emphasis which no repetition can weaken, and with an authority which nothing can supercede — 'Suffer little children to come unto me.' " And not only my heart, and my judgment, my belief and my conscience instruct me, that this great precept should be obeyed, but the idea is so sacred, the solemn thoughts connected with it so crowd upon me, it is so ut- terly at variance with this system of philosophical moral" ity which we have heard advocated, that I stand and speak here in fear of being influenced by my feelings to exceed the proper line of my professional duty." I ought to quote the whole of this admirable argu- ment to do it justice. It was a case whose decision Mr. Webster felt, to use his own language again, " is to in- fluence the happiness, the temporal and the eternal wel- fare, of one hundred millions of human beings, alive and to be born in this land." But I will select only one pas- 20 sage more. In it he expresses liis extreme disgust for this idea of ^vithllolding rehgious instruction from children till they are eighteen years of age. " Why sir, it is vain to talk about the destructive tendency of such a system, to argue upon it is to insult the understanding of every man ; it is mere, sheer, loiv, ribald, vulgar deism and infi- delity/. It opposes all that is in Heaven, and all on earth that is worth being on earth. It destroys the connect- ing link between the creature and the Creator ; it op- poses that great system of universal benevolence and goodness that binds man to his Maker. No religion till he is eighteen ! What would be the condition of all your families — of all your children — if religious fathers and religious mothers were to teach their sons and daugh- ters no religious tenets till they w^ere eighteen ? What w^ould become of their morals, their excellence, their purity of heart and life, their hope for time and eter- nity ? What would become of all those thousand ties of sweetness, benevolence, love and Christian feeling that now render our young men and young maidens, like comely plants growing up by a streamlet's side — the graces and the grace of opening manhood — of l)lossom- ing womanhood ? What would become of all that now renders the social circle lovely and beloved ? What would become of society itself? How could it exist ? " Pardon this length of quotation. I wished to show you the man w^hose writings are to be the study and ad- miration of our youth in coming times, and the spirit which was at the foundation of those writings, and which often breathes its fragrance through the dryest argu- ments and most abstract subjects. How different the in- fluence of such works, from that of some who stand high on the scroll of our nation's history ! I will not name them. Let their words and works and memories, so far as they are unhallowed, perish together. I pass to consider Mr. Webster's more direct services to the country. I wish to contemplate them religiously^ and their author, as raised up by the God of our fathers to perform them. God, my hearers, is the author and arbiter of na- tions. By Him each people, as an organized many-mem- bered whole, has its design. I approach this fact with sensibility and awe. I seem to see the Omnipotent on His throne and the ages rolling by at His feet. He founds and brings forward each dynasty, kingdom and power, in its turn. Communities dash against each other, and all is confusion and bloodshed below, but order and beneficence reigns above. In all the workings and coun- terworkings and oppositions of states and nations, in the onrushing of millions, in their defeat and retrograde, the Almighty is working out His own results. If this is taught by reason, thus do the Scriptures certainly repre- sent the matter. Not only was the chosen people or- ganized and miraculously sustained for a divine purpose, but the same is true of all the kingdoms of the ancient world. God puts himself at the head of them, makes them the subjects of prophetic announcement, brings them on and conducts them off the stage at pleasure. The Syrian, the Babylonian, the Median, the Persian, 22 the Grecian and the Roman powers are especially desig- nated as risino' and oroino; down according; to his pre- arrangements. They act their several parts in history, and then give place to their snccessors, preparing the way for that Heaven-descended Kingdom which is to cover the Avhole earth. In working ont these results God also raises up men for the times. He raised up that Pharaoh in Egypt whose name is mentioned only with dishonor. * Among the Persians, He raised up Cyrus; among the Greeks, Peri- cles and Demosthenes; among the Romans, Cicero. For our Saxon fathers. He raised up Alfred. To England, in modern times, He gave Milton and Cromwell. To the old Hebrew Commonwealth, Moses. To the Middle Ages, Charlemagne. Eor us, in the times of extremity. He brought forward Washington. From His hands, we have received, in our own day, great Webster. Three special times he saved the country, and three special times he was himself almost miraculously preserved for its salvation. Looking back on the past we see everywhere God in histor}^ In every political organization and revo- lution. He had his purposes. By us He would seem to present an example before the world of a great, in- telligent, self-governing people. Among us he would bring man to his true manhood, and by the power of knowledge and religion, universally diffused, and by the benign effects of a free constitutional government, prepare the way for a fraternity of nations and individ- uals, to be all one in God. In aiding this object, He 23 raised up, I doubt not, that great light whose sudden eclipse we now lament. It was his special mission to sustain the Constitution of his country, defend the Union from rupture, preserve the nation from domestic and foreign war, promote the spread and prosperity of the people, and by his justice, magnanimity and intel- lect, honor free institutions in the view of mankind. Some people look upon government as a matter en- tirely apart from religion. But to one who enters on its duties with right feehngs, I know of no work more sacred. The preaching of the gospel is indispensable, nothing on the whole is of so much importance ; but the statesman who acts in the fear of God has some- times power to do that for the advancement of societv, in a few years, which, as a private minister of religion he could hardly have accomplished in centuries. I am not accustomed, therefore, to look on the government of nations as a mere worldly employment. Nothing, if en- gaged in with right views, can be more sacred. Some- what in this light, the subject seems to have been re- garded by our deceased statesman. Next to the sacred- ness of inspiration, I am told by one who knew his pri- vate, as well as his public life, " he approached no written thing with such awe as the Constitution; and never spoke on the great themes which affect the government and the nation except with solemnity." In this light of conscientiousness, of patriotism, of sacredness, I am ac- customed to contemplate his leading acts. Allow that he made mistakes, dissent as strongly as you will from 24 his opinions, provided 3'ou dissent intelligently and honestly, you will not deny that God raised him up as a benefactor to our nation. I cannot enumerate Mr. Webster's services to the country. They extend over a period of nearly fifty years. But when the doctrine was broached that any State had a constitutional right, for reasons which it might deem suf- ficient, to withdraw from the confederacy, and when this political heresy had been promulgated with great passion and power of plausible argument and consider- able success, it was Webster's intellect which broke the hostile forces. He expounded and defended the Consti- tution, enlightened the country, and secured its verdict in favor of inseparable Union, and saved us from a train of disasters which might have lasted for centuries. When, in 1842, we were on the verge of a war with Eng- land, when difficulties of long standing and complicated character had defied the diplomacy of successive admin- istrations, and now seemed insurmountable — when irri- tation, recrimination and mutual menace and the raising of armies betokened what was coming, and blood had ac- tullay begun to flow, it was Webster's statesmanship which brought order out of confusion, allayed the passions of opposing nations, and gave the country an honorable peace. When, again, on the accession of Mr. Polk to the Presidency, the Oregon question took a turn which seemed to render w\ar with England, a second time, inevitable it was a letter of Mr. Webster, then in private life, addressed to Mr. McGregor, of Glasgow, and by him 25 communicated to Lord John Russell and Lord Aberdeen, Avliicli induced Her Majesty's Government to make those proposals for settlement, ^vhich constitute the Oregon treaty, and which enabled the London Ex- aminer to say, that Mr. McGregor had "preserved the peace of the Avorld." Again, when, iii conse- quence of a vast accession of new territorj^, which accession Mr. "Webster, foreseeing the fearful agita- tions that must follow, had earnestly opposed, the pillars of our Union were shaken, and violent out- breaks and a fratricidal war was at hand, it was Mr. Webster, more than any other man, who secured the passage of measures whicli saved the country. I am well aware that different views are taken of the propriety of his course, in reference to what are callel the compromise measures. Some have looked upon him from that moment as "little less than archangel fallen." I have been pained to read in a religious news- paper such sentiments as these. "The Mr. Webs ev whom the nation mourns is the Mr. Webster of his- tory. Let us say that the last of young America's great triumvirate died before the ides or rather the calends of March, 1850. For what award of sober his- tory in coming time will not say that on the seventh of that month, the great statesman, who had stood in the Senate and the forum as the champion of liberty, truth, and principle, never bending to expediency, never vieldino; to motives of selfishness, never distrusting the authority or the triumphant power of right, was no more ? " 4 26 If it be true that the Ethiopian can no more change his skin, or the leopard his spots, than they who are ac- customed to do evil can learn to do well, is it probable that " a champion of liberty, truth and pinciples, never bending to expediency, never yielding to motives of selfishness, never distrusting the authority or the trium- phant power of right," till he is almost three score years and ten, should be suddenly converted by a backward process, into something worse than we are willing to name ? We may have our opinions of the expediency and of the justice of those measures. But that Mr. Web- ster intended to do the very best thing which, under all the circumstances, he could do, few that know his charac- teristic honesty will doubt. The public men most pro- foundly acquainted with the critical state of our affairs at the time render the most emphatic testimony to the wisdom and patriotism of his conduct on that oc- casion. A vast majority of the citizens of the United States have adopted his view as moderate, conciliatory, and constitutional. The highest courts have stamped it with the seal of their judicial sanction. At all events, when his course has been approved by such men of piety and patriotism as the late Prof Stuart, of Andover, and a thousand others of the highest principle and intelli- gence, — men not in political life and not to be sus- pected of selfish motives, — a little charity in comment- ing on his acts might be pardonable. If Mr. Webster had any idol, that idol was his coun- try. He loved it with the whole strength of his heart. He saw in the Union a blessing to mankind. He saw 27 in its rupture disgrace and misery at home, and the eclipse of rising nations abroad. It was his oft-repeated prayer, " that when his eyes should be turned for the last time to behold the sun in heaven, he might not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent, on a land rent with civil feuds or drenched it may be in fraternal blood." He was willing to make any sacrifices, personal or sectional, which he thought the public safety required. In this last assertion you see the motives of his con- duct. And I thank God, my brethren, for raising up such a man. His deeds and words live after him, and their influence will be felt for centuries. His pleadings for the Union which have been sounding in the ears of twenty millions of people, especially since 1849, and who are the representatives of one hundred millions soon to inhabit this soil, will strongly bear up the dome of our Union, and prevent it from falling in awful frag- ments on our heads. Some may think less of this service than I do. Some may even delude themselves with the opinion that there is no danger of a rupture, and others may imagine it a tolerable evil should it come. But I look upon the idea of disunion, my brethren, with horror. When I think 'of such an event as possible, I seem to see the spectral hand holding forth its prophetic roll. As it opens before me, it " is written upon within and without, and there is written therein lamentations and mourning and woe." 28 The dissolution of this Union, — I know not another probable catastrophe so clreadfiil. We have read of the evils which preceded its formation and made it neces- sary : disordered finances, business in confusion, confi- dence destroyed, estates ruined ; the contempt of foreign powers; jealousies among ourselves which imperiled the country. We have witnessed the prosperity which followed. Never since our earth emerged from chaos has the sun looked down on such rapid advancement. Within little more than half a century, the nation has risen to a height of glory beyond what was reached, taking all things into consideration, by Eome or France or England, after ages of growth.* Nothing seems to hinder the United States, if true to themselves, from soon standing at the head of the nations. I mean the head not merely in territory and wealth, but in moral influence, and in everything which constitutes the eleva- tion and happiness of a community. But let the blind Sampson of disunion, grasping the pillars of our Consti- tution, bow itself in the midst and bring our political fabric to the ground, and there '= Will be a voice of weeping, which shall drown The roar of waters in the cry of blood." What should we gain ? Nothing, positively nothing. There is no probability of our gaining anything to any true interest in the land. The colored race, it seems to me, would gain no more than the white. The area of slavery would be increased rather than diminished by the process. And where would be our na- tional influence among the powers of the earth? 29 Our commerce would lose its protection, our finances would be thrown into disorder, our en- terprise would be crippled, education and religion arrested; the conversion of the world put back, I have no doubt, a hundred, if not five hundred years. Abroad, it would no longer avail us to say, as we now do proudly, "I am an American citizen." At home, our States would dash against each other in confusion. We should attempt new Unions — but in vain. We should confederate and be broken, and confederate and be broken. Border wars would be interminable. Blood would never cease to flow. In the fearfid languao-e of Scripture, " Ave should be cast into the wine-press of the wrath of God, and the blood would come out of the wine-press unto the horses' bridles." Tell me not that the many kingdoms of Europe live side by side, in independent sovereignties, and maintain a balance of power between themselves. Has not their present measure of security cost them centuries of anarchy and milhons of lives, and standing armies, and a burthen of debt that crushes the people into remediless poverty ? The kingdoms of Europe maintain a balance of power among themselves ! Yes, and every moment the balance wavers! — A breath turns it — and what then? The idea of living peacefully, under such circum- stances, is preposterous! He talks hke a boy, who says there would be no need of civil strifes among us. Could our thirty stars move harmoniously in their ap- propriate orbits, when the great central principle of 30 gravitation had been destroyed ? No, there would be a storm in our heavens, and a shipwreck of the stars. This is not all. The hopes of the people throughout the civilized world, are directed towards this country. It is the grand depository of free thoughts, free principles, free institutions. The overthrow of this government would be the triumph of despots, and the destruction of the hopes of millions. I know that there are evils connected with our com- pact which every friend of humanity must deplore. Time and forbearance and wise legislation and the progress of the Gospel and the Providence of God, an- swering prayer, I trust will remove them. But the knife of amputation rashly used will destroy the body politic, from which they are at present inseparable. No one of our statesmen has seen the dangers of the country and the consequences, if those dangers were not averted, with such penetration as Mr. Webster. He had been for half a century in the councils of the nation. He had been particularly consulted, on great national questions, and his help had been invoked by nearly if not quite every administration, whether Whig or Dem- ocratic, since Munroe's. He had come to feel not only a great love for the country, but a measure of responsi- bility felt by no man since Washington. He could not think of a possible break up amongst us except with the deepest emotion. He gave the whole of his vast energies to the work of seeing that the Eepublic received no detriment. If ever a man was sincere on any subject connected with the government, I believe 31 Mr. "Webster to be sincere in this. "I own I have a part to act," said he, in his 7th of March speech, "not for my own security or safety. I am looking out for no fragment on which to float away from the wreck, if wreck there must be, but for the good of the whole and the preservation of the whole ; and there is that which will keep me to my duty during the strug- gle, whether the sun and the stars shall appear or not appear for many days. I speak for the preservation of the Union." He spoke ; and being dead yet speaketh — and his words will bind our States together, I hope, till the heavens are no more. It has been objected to Mr. Webster, that he was con- scious of his greatness. But how can a man be truly great, and not be conscious of it ? Was he not great ? Not to know the actual facts of one's own character im- plies weakness. Nor is there much more virtue in thinking one's self small if he is really great, than in thinking one's self great when he has but insignificant abilities. The same Scripture which tells us* not to think too highly of ourselves, tells us to think soberly and as we ought to think. If Mr. Webster thought of himself soberly and as he ought to think, he could not imagine that he had but a single talent for which to give account. But they say that he was not only conscious of great- ness, but seemed to demand acknowledgment of it. If this charge carries an idea of personal vanity, I know not a distinguished individual in history more 32 free from it. His bearing was noble, it was sublime, but there was no self complacency, much less vanity in it. If the charge implies only a desire to be estimated according to worth, in other words, to be appreciated, such a trait of character is to be commended, not censured. I see it in that pattern of modesty, our great Exemplar. There is no merit in running one's self down, or in declining to take those positions in society for which God has designed us. On the contrary, can a good man, conscious of ability to be extensively useful, allow his talents to be buried, and feel satisfied ? His truthful nature not only requires him to be useM according to his powers, but craves to be estimated according to its value. Again, it is said that Mr. Webster was ambitious. That he desired, for some reasons, the highest position of influ- ence, I will not deny. Different men will estimate this desire differently. Some will be influenced in their judg- ment of it by the predilections of party, some by envious rivalry, and some by what they see in it through the mir- ror of their own selflshness. There are persons who have no idea of a possible disinterestedness in such circum- stances. But is the desire of supremacy necessarily vul- gar ambition ? Why does a father choose to be at the head of his own family ? Is it because he is ambitious ? And why, let me ask, with reverence, does the Creator take the highest place in the universe ? Is there any- thing in Him which has affinity to ambition? Why should not a good man, conscious of ability to perform great services for his country, desire the opportunity ? 33 Suppose an individual remarkably qualified to fill the highest office in the land ; suppose him to be fully aware of his peculiar fitness for this trust ; suppose him to love his country, its reputation, its prosperity, its happiness, with all his heart ; suppose that he sees dangej^ threatening the nation, and trembles lest rash hands and unwise counsels destroy it, — should such a man desire to hold the helm of government, must he be set down as ambitious ? I profess not to judge the heart. But wiiile I can imagine so good a motive for aspiring to the headship of the nation, I cannot and I will not attribute the desire of such a patriot and of such a man to mere vulgar ambition. Mr. Webster was pre-eminently a national statesman. He had never been a member of any State legislature, except for a small part of a single term. Strongly attached to the j)rinciples and measures of the North, a Whig in spirit and political affinities, his mind towered above sectional circumstances and party influences. While he sacredlv protected the rights of the States, he saw the glory of the country in the Union. As a national man, he won the honor of being the expounder and defender of the Constitution. He uniformly and religiously sustained all its guaranties and compromises. To the North he was the champion of freedom ; in his conduct towards the South he was the embodiment of justice. Though connected with a party, no man has shown himself more independent of party. Without swerving the breadth of a hair from his integrity and his " recorded opinions," we find him putting forth 5 34 the strength of his greatness, when the country's good demanded it, in sustaining the leading measures of an opposing administration. On another occasion, he main- tains his position as Secretary of State, at the hazard of his popularity, and with the loss of many friends, that he might accomplish, at whatever sacrifice to hiijjself, a great work for the nation. Since that time, even more than before, no man that ever hved on our soil has ever pleaded for the whole nation with such fervor as he. Not a national statesman ? Who but a national statesman, proud of his great, free country, could ever have written the Hiilsemann letter ? Where is there in our entire history a distinguished man who grasped the whole Union in his affections with more strength and tenacity ? Were we called upon to present to mankind a repre- sentative of our national institutions, a personal em- bodiment of the great ideas of the United States, I know not whom we could select for this end, if not Daniel Webster. Mr. Webster, as might be expected where the press is free and party spirit runs high, has been the object of much calumny. I will not excite your indignation by repeating so much as one of the infamous ribaldries which unprincipled news-mongers have circulated con- cerning him. Never has a public man in this countr}^ been so calumniated, and never, in respect at least to his public life, — high-minded enemies being judges, — with so little reason. Mr. Calhoun, for many years a political opponent, bore testimony before his death to Mr. Webster's integrity and honor as a politician and a 36 patriot. That same gentleman, however, allowed liim- self, many years ago, in the excitement of debate, to insinuate that something might be said derogatory to the patriotism of his antagonist, "«/* Unie had alloivedr Mr. Webster indignantly repelled the libel, and chal- lenged the distinguished Carolinian to search his whole life through, and find aught if he could which deserved this accusation. He then added, " Sir, I am glad this subject has been alluded to in a manner which justifies me in taking public 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 paragraphs and half sentences have been collected, fraudulently put together, and then made to flare out as if there had been some discovery. But all this failed. The next resort was to supposed correspondence. My letters were sought for to learn if, in the confidence of private friendship, I had ever said anything which an enemy could make use of With this view the vicinity of my former residence has been searched as with a lighted candle. New Hampshire has been exjolored from the mouth of the Merrimack to the White Hills. In one instance a gentleman had left the State, gone five hundred miles off, and died. His papers were examined ; a letter was found, and I have under- stood it was brought to Washington and examined; a conclave was held to consider it, and the result was, that if there was nothing else against Mr. Webster, the mat- 36 ter hail better be let al( ne. Sir, I hope to make every- body of that opinion who brings against me a charge of want of patriotism. Errors of opinion can be found, doubtless, on many subjects; but as conduct flows from the feelings which animate the heart, I know that no act of my life has had its origin in the want of ardent love of country." This w\is in 1838; what would the old statesman have said, if he had poured out his heart on the subject of detraction, at the close of his days in 1852 ? The sanctuary of his private life has been invaded, and foul masses of slander heaped upon him. And for what cause ? It was not done by way of retaliation, railing for railing. Mr. Webster treated his opponents with justice and urbanity. I doubt if another instance can be found of a man in public life for fifty years, so free from the sin of recrimination, unjust insinuation, and anything approaching towards dishonorable per- sonalit}'. What then was the cause of all this abuse ? Allow that the great statesman had his faults. Were they more glaring than are found in many public men whom the million applaud? Faults there may have been, but why were they so monstrously exagger- ated? Why were legions of calumnies fabricated? The cause of this abuse lies deeper than the frailties of its victim. The cause, as I conceive it, was pre-eminent greatness, which stood in conspicuous view to receive the shafts of envy. The cause was a stern integrity, which the office-seeking and the self-seeking could not bend, a principle of patriotism and justice, which the 37 unscrupulous could no more break clown than they could overthrow the everlasting granite pillars among which he was born. The cause was a certain awful majesty of character, before which petty politicians, wdio loved self rather than country, cowered. The cause was a power of intellect and a power of influence which demagogues and partisans knew they could conflict with only by revilings. These were so industriously circulated, that the unsuspecting said there must be a foundation for them ; and in some instances men re- peated their ow^n falsehood till they believed their own lie. These are causes of calumny to which public men everywhere, and especially in this country, are increas- ingly exposed. The crime of slander cannot easily be estimated. It originates in a certain meanness of spirit, or in an un- manly love of gossiping, or in that calculating rascality which destroys character for selfish ends. In its influ- ence upon the calumniator himself, scarcely any sin is more demoralizing. It petrifies benevolent sensibility; it stimulates those vicious feelings which, when fully de- veloped, make men haters of their kind. It is the cause of incalculable suffering to its victim; it takes away that which a high-minded man values more than prop- erty, and without which life is a burden. To the more susceptible, its shafts are not unfrequently the arrows of -death ; and the strong writhe under them with pangs to which bodily pains are in comparison a relief. Hopes are blasted by slander. The energies of men acting for the public good are often crippled by it, and their 38 days made wretched. Public detraction is the great sin of the times. The country is full of it; men get their dishonest living by it ; it comes to the inno- cent in a shape which cannot be met by testimony or argument, and put down ; it comes without a responsible name ; it puts its victim to the often impossible task of proving a negative ; it lurks in the dark — it multi- plies itself into legions ; it is here, it is there ; it hides when you approach, and appears again as soon as you are gone. And there is no hope for the man on whom it falls but in his conscience, and in living it down. It is a sin wiiich has no excuse. Worse than sins of the flesh, for it comes from the centre of a man's being ; worse than the oftence which it alleges, because it has no strong temptation, — I look upon it as infernal. The eagerness with which some gather up " stale and loathed calumnies," — "the cast off slough of a polluted and shameless press," — suggests the idea that, lil-Le certain ill-omened birds, it is their nature to feed on carrion. With regard to Mr. Webster, I have no means of de- ciding upon the character of his entire private life. I had a little acquaintance with him, though not enough for seli-complacency. I know something of the high reputation which he sustained at home. But to what extent he partook of human frailties, I am not the judge. The customs of society have greatly changed, in some respects, since his habits were formed, and he has usually moved in circles where a puritanical strict- ness is not always regarded as the prince of virtues. But when I remember that "publications more abusive 39 and scurrilous never saw the light, than were sent forth against Washington," and when I remember that One greater than Washington was charged with being "a gluttonous man and a winebibber, and a friend of pub- licans and sinners," I am not inclined to believe an evil report just because " Gashmu saith it." Nor do I think that a man who has faults is always radically a bad man. There are those who can see nothing in Abraham but his prevarication, nothing in David but the crime against Uriah, and nothing in Peter but his denial of Christ. And there are those, to use again the words of Mr. Webster, " who think that nothing is good but what is perfect. If their perspicacious vision enables them to detect a spot on the face of the sun, they think that a good reason why the sun should be struck down from heaven."^ There are such persons ; but, as a man en- compassed with infirmities, I do not wish to be of their number. Read the eighth chapter of John, and you will learn that the severest accusers are not always the purest in heart. I hold him forth for imitation only so far as he resembled that great Pattern, whom he himself so much admired and adored. Mr. Webster's private habits, I have said, I have no means of knowing in all respects. But his custom of early rising and hard morning toil — his clear, strong utterances of truth, always clear and always strong — his uniform observance of all the rules of order in the Senate chamber — his entire freedom from those per- sonal broils and bickerings which sometimes disgrace * 7th March speech. 40 the halls of legislation — his fine moral sentiments, indicating sensitiveness of conscience — his tender do- mestic aflections — his love of the Sacred Scriptures, M'hicli he read through once a year, and Avliich he declared to he the Book of Books, fitting us to live and fitting us to die — his profound veneration of God — his respect for the Sabbath — his habit of family devotion — his constant attendance upon public worshi]) — his early profession of faith in Christ, and the custom of Communion at the Lord's table — his tender love for little children, and the interest which he has ex- pressed in their religious education — his uniform pro- priety of speech, insomuch that a gentleman said to me at the funeral, '• I have been with him under all circum- stances. I have been wdth him at great parties and at little parties ; I have been often a fishing with him, and all over the farm, and I never heard him utter a profime word or an impure word in my life " — the fore- sight and calmness with which he prepared his own tomb in the old puritan burying ground overlooking the sea — his unabated intellectual strength, when three score years and ten — his parting words of affection and religious counsel to his friends — his last prayers — is all this like — I will not say what. It is like good- ness of heart ; it is like religion ; it is like himself who once said, " I woidd give all this world to be sure of standing, on the right hand before the judgment seat of Christ." Mr. Webster, I suppose, joined the Orthodox Congre- gational Church in Salisbury, New Hampshire, at an 41 early age, and died, I have no reason to doubt, in the faith of his fathers. He was not, however, a sectarian ; '• Depend upon it," said he, " that where there is a spirit of Christianity, there is a spirit which rises above form, above ceremonies, independent of sect or creed, and the controversies of clashing doctrines."^ He grasped the substance, not the shadow. So does every good man, however great his preference for a particular church. I once happened, in the common course of official duty, to preach before him. I remember his dignified at- tention and devout demeanor. I never shall foro-et the expression of interest with which he fixed his eyes upon me, as I quoted these words of that high-minded man, Sir Thomas More : " I judge it ten times more honorable for a single person, in witnessing a truth, to oppose the world in its power, wisdom and authority, this standing in its full strength, and he singly and nakedly, than by fighting many battles by force of arms and gaining them all. I have no life but truth ; and if truth be ad- vanced by my suffering, then my life also. If truth live, I live ; if justice live, I live ; and these cannot die ; but by any man's suffering for them are enlarged, en- throned." To these words his whole life seems to* say, Amen. I have detained you too long, but I must be par- doned. A wonderful man has just gone from us. The country has indeed been prolific of great men. Free institutions cherish them. But God has never raised up * Girard Case. p. 37. 5 42 anion . C^ V .% * **^-^-^. ' <1 .(% ,r .-■ ^ ^s*^ .♦:! 5.' <^^ %,^^ / >^'%. ^ t ♦», tl " K