• I* „ 1?. '■- •',->' % * ^ > v & ■!$.• .0** w *- . »:. * a* *\ o V • ■ > v- cy '0^-.- V V . 9 .Lll'v V V •!••• <^ j,0 r •ill'* V L P ^ £> *i <*> * • ■ #■ if. * • . ' $ V ° 5 • r v -y, •^ »1V^. ^ V »'*°- c» v. o, "*..•• X> $ Z ^oV* V • * • o^ ,0 V ., <* V ' .*... ^ ^ *'T7i» .^ A ♦ '• A^*V » y> n \ « ■ ♦ »>. V ..•••. ^ <> "•••";• ,v o * JO-^ \£^J~ ^c^Cjl* CtZ T I I E I' E II V E C T MAN A SERMON o\ III I ; l> E ATI I OF HON. JOHN DAVIS, PKEACHED AT vWlortestcr, pass. %%x\\ 23, 1854, B\ ALONZO MILL, D. D., pastor of tfjc .Stconft Ccmcjnsational &f)urcfi En oiEtorcrjattr. PRINTED FOR PRIVATE DISTRIBUTION. NEW YORK: CHARLES B. NORTON, 71 CHAMBER8 STREET. 1 6 5 4- . ■foffi&eSd^ ■^cWf T H E P E It F EOT MAN A SEEM ON ON THE DEATH OK HON. JOHN DAVIS, rKEA'IIKIi \1 Htomsttr, lass. Jjril 23, 1854, uy ALONZO "HILL, D. D., pastor of tfjt Sftoni (Eonijrcjjatinnal dfjurcf) in ffitTorusitr. PRINTED FOR PRIVATE DISTRIBUTION. <*NEW YORK: CHARLES B. NORTON, VI CHAMBERS STREET. 1 8 54. b M i: \l. I R Kl IDW in a CO., I'lilN l ■ OR. KilliO 1ND i . n i m York. SERMON. Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace. — Psalm xxxvii: 37. I do not know, my brethren, when I have ever risen to address yon under a deeper sense of personal insufficiency. The perfect man ! — The poet's theme, the Christian's aspiration, the enthusiast's dream ! Under any circumstances, it would task the human powers, and try the human sympathies, adequately to trace the noble lineaments, to lay open the mines of intellectual, moral wealth, to unfold the essential quali- ties which belong to the man whom we are directed to observe and mark, and to note that combination of delicate and nicely-adjusted properties which, in the end, when human strength gives way, and earthly resources fail, shall bring peace. But when, as now, the providence of God is passing before us in a sudden and startling visitation, and we assemble under the burthen of a heavy bereavement, how shall we find ability to analyze, and language to express, the great thought suggested by the words which I have read \ And yet we must dwell upon it, however inadequately, now we have come together into the temple where our honored friend who was borne from these portals yes- terday was wont to worship, and mnsl 31 k in it the appropriate lesson for the day. The contemplation of that providence which has overtaken as with so little of preparation, and of that life just now closed among 11-. so much of which was passed in the pnblic service, and before our own eyes in the familiarity of private intercourse, is the appropriate lesson; and your own hearts, before you came here, must have selected the appropriate text : " Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace." The perfect man! Perfection, of course, we can- not understand in an absolute and unqualified sense; t<»r in this sense there is no one perfect, no one good, but God. He who sits upon his throne of unrivaled -•lory, from whose perfections nothing can take, and to which no length of year- can add — God in the Ilea- vni- is perfect; and there is only one being that ever trod this earth, these realms of weakness and tempta- tion — the spotless Son of God — of whom with any de- gree of propriety we can say, kw Behold the perfect man." But there is another sense in which the words ni:i\ be used. They mean not an absolute freedom from sin; they express a perfection that is not incon- sistent with imperfection; they are employed not to in- dicate the man w ho has escaped all defects, and reached a height of goodness beyond which he cannot go; but rather to express that balance of the character, that completeness in all the parts, which -row- out of a seated moral and religious principle, a profound con- viction of responsibleness, and a sincere aim and an honest endeavor to know the truth and do right in all things. The perfect man and upright is he who, faith- ful to his inward principle and thought, with constancy and courage, by night and by day, carries the homage of his allegiance into all the relations and duties of life, private as well as public ; who willingly lays open his inmost bosom before Him from whom no subterfuge can hide, and fears not to proclaim his most secret motive and act in the ear of Him who leaves no deed unexamined and no wrong unrebuked. He is the perfect man. So understood, you will not deem it unmeaning eulogy when we apply the words to our endeared and honored friend, whom we mourn to-day, — who, in the language of one of his cotemporaries, "seems to us now, as in truth he is, not extinguished, or ceasing to be, but only withdrawn, as the clear sun goes down at its setting, not darkened, but only no longer seen ;" so suddenly has he passed away. For to whom will they apply with more of justness than to him who, for more than the third of a century, has had associated with his name that comprehensive and deeply significant word "honest," and will bear it onward, in the fair record of history, as long as that name shall be read \ Who has a better right to those appellations than he who, through years of public service and party strife, never incurred a suspicion of the purity of his motives or the integrity of his life, but who, through all politi- cal changes, retained the profound respect of those who opposed him most \ Who is more worthy of the title than he who has won so largely the confidence 6 and affection not only of those among whom lie lias lived, but of those who have never Been his face or heard his yoice '. For when, on Wednesday last, the tidings circulated throngh our city that John Davis was no more, a sndden shock, an overpowering sense of bereavement, passed from bosom to bosom, as when some dear and honored personal friend has been stricken down; when the same sad tidings were borne upon the electric wires, from city to city and village to village, the mournful expressions have come back to us on the printed sheet, "a great and good man has fall- en," "a shining light among the resplendent luminaries of the republic is extinguished," "the honest man and politician is gone." Let me endeavor, then, to show — feebly and imperfectly it must be ; for how can the mind, amidst its pressing cares, and after such a shock as we all have received, recover at once its tone of calm- ness and its capacity to do justice to a subject like this? — let me show some of the -round- of this wide confidence and affection which he inspired. Your own familiar acquaintance with the peculiarities of his character and the habits of his life, will supply the rest. Born in the neighboring town of Northboro', Janu- iiary L3th, L787, he was fortunate in the condition of his birth, and in every circumstance of his earb life. For, although this condition did not differ from thai which is common, and these circumstances were no Letter than those of hundreds anion-- as, they were precisely such as are adapted to form the finest traits of the New-England character. Influences from with- out and within, home and its association*, the changing aspects and occupations of the country, the habits of an intelligent and thoughtful community, — all served to give a direction to this character, and develop it into manly dignity and proportions. Descended of a s1 rong-minded, sober race, simple in their manners, and softened by the more cheerful modes of life which had been engrafted on the sterner practices of the old Puritans, he received those impressions which remain through every period and every change of our being. Under the parental roof he acquired that reverence for the great truths of our religion which lies at the foundation of all consistency and uprightness of char- acter, without which virtue is but an empty name, and religious sensibility a momentary impulse. From a child, a profound reverence for the Creator was an element of his life. Reared in the principles and the spirit of a simple and rational religion, his admiration for the character of the Savior was perfect, and his respect for that religion profound. I have not heard that an idle or irreverent expression ever fell from his lips. I do not believe there was ever a time when a lie, in any shape and for any purpose, was not an im- possibility with him, and when an immoral or a mean action was not his abhorrence. Here, then, he grew, in the midst of country scenes, with associations and memories and attachments to country life which never forsook him. His habits, and the influences by which he was surrounded, were well adapted to develop his best powers. The daily occu- pations of an agricultural life hardened his frame, and at the same time brought him constantly within the influence of the wonderful operations of nature, and created within him a love of the beauties of the natu- ral world and of country life and pursuits which con- tinued to animate him throughout life. His earliesl lessons in hooks were learned in the schools of his native village ; and at the early age of sixteen he him- self took the charge of one of these schools, and Learned, what no books could teach, self-discipline and self-reliance. After spending a few months at Leices- ter Academy, at the age of nineteen he entered Yale College, where he graduated with distinguished repu- tation in 1812. Here Clayton, Badger, Francis Gran- ger, and Truman Smith, were his cotemporaries, men whom he was destined to meet in other halls ; and the venerable Dr. Dwight, who then shed the luster of his genius over that institution, was his favorite teacher — a man who had the discernment to predict the future eminence of his gifted pupil — left upon him the impress of truth and grateful affection, which no length of time or chamre of circumstances could obliterate. At the close of his collegiate course he came to reside in Worcester, pursued his legal studies in the office of the late Erancis I Make, was admitted to the bar in L815; and, with the exception of a few months Bpent in the town of Spencer, he has made this his home. He has identified his interests with ours. Here he won Lis earliest laurels; here he formed his domestic attach- ments; and here he reared his children; and although from the habits of his life, and his absence large por- tions <>f many year-, hi- influence was contributed less directly than that of some to its advancement, his advice was freely rendered on all public matters, and he rejoiced in its prosperity, loved our city as the home of his earlier and late friends, and was accustom- ed to seek the indulgence of his social affections by a familiar intercourse with the humblest of its inhabit- ants. Let us pause here a moment, as he stands at the threshold of his career, and contemplate his entrance on life as a lawyer. Here, also, he was fortunate in the circumstances of his earlier lot, for they all con- spired to develop the intellectual and moral traits which were his crowning distinction. Simple and unaffected, modest even to diffidence, and distrustful, at times, of his ability even to rise in his profession, he came to a bar distinguished for its eloquence and legal accomplishments, its high moral tone, and its encouraging courtesy and kindness towards its younger members ; and he found himself in the midst of those influences which called forth his latent strength, and compelled him to conquer his self-distrust or abandon the profession. Brought into close conflict with acute minds, and aroused by the pressure of competition, he soon acquired confidence and distinction — not by any especial amount of legal learning ; for there were men who had read more books and could more readily quote chapter and section for precedents. He pos- sessed the rare faculty of seizing great principles ; and, adopting the safe maxim that for what is equitable and just there is a law, lie applied these principles with a singular sagacity, and, by his power of analysis, pro- 10 duced more impression upon judge and jury than others didbypiles of authority. He waa sagacious, but never resorted to tricks and chicanery; lie attained to his great success only by fair and honest practice. I do Qot believe he ever courted a client, or ministered to strife when a peaceful adjustment could be made. Those wlm would use the law to commit a wrong: or to indulge their vindictive passions, met only rebuke from him. He regarded his profession as a noble Bcience and a minister of good, and would not perveri it to wicked and ignoble purposes. Regarding the law, from the structure of society, as a barrier againsl injustice, and as, however imperfect, the best human interpretation of Divine Justice, he gave to his prof - -ion th«' best power of his mind and heart. In hi- ad- dress before a New England Court, His tong Dropped manna, but could not make the worse appear The better reason, to perplex ami dash Maturest counsels, — His armor was his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill ; And I have no doubt he gained his cause quite as often by his well-known integrity, and the sincerity which marked every feature of his countenance, as by his legal learning and forensic eloquence. All-. Davis soon became known, and won confidence beyond the circuit of the courts. After practicing at the bar ten years, he was chosen, without solicitation, to represent this district in Congress ; and, in Decem- ber, L825, he took his seat in that body which was 11 to witness his noblest and life-long efforts. From this time till the year preceding his death, a period of twen- ty-eight years, with brief exceptions, he was devoted to the public service. For nearly nine successive years he was a Representative in Congress, fourteen years a member of the U. S. Senate, and more than three years the Governor of this Commonwealth. Able as he had proved himself as a lawyer, his chosen place — the place for which his talents and tastes besl fitted him — was the legislative hall. His calm and clear perception, his power of observation, his practi- cal acquaintance with business, his knowledge of men, his sagacity, his common sense, his force of character, his concise and dignified utterance, his logical power in debate, his habits of work, his simple but urbane manners, his fidelity to duty, the spotless purity of his daily life, the uprightness of his purposes, and the warmth of his sympathies, gave him an influence and respect at Washington such as few enjoyed. The early part of his career was one of the most brilliant eras in Congressional history. Mr. Adams, Mr. Web- ster, Mr. Clay, Mr. Calhoun, Col. Benton, Mr. Van Buren, and many other men of distinguished eminence, were his cotemporaries at that time. The subjects which occupied public attention involved not only the prosperity of the nation, but the vital welfare, the sal- vation of Xew England. Her manufacturing villages were rising into existence, and their life and death hung upon the acts of a single session. Mr. Davis very early took a prominent stand on the question of domestic industry, and, in a house of great ability, was 12 soon recognized as the leader of the friends of Ameri- can interests. I Deed not say to you that it requires no ordinary ability to attain to such a position. It was my good fortune to be present when he arose to make one of his earliest speeches. I thought how trying it must be, what thoroughness ,.f preparation, \\ hat confidence and self-reliance were needed here. There were men there who had grown old in the public service, and whose expression of dissent or indifference no courtesy would restrain. I well re- member that some of the most eminent statesmen of the country came and sat near him, giving him a close attention during the whole speech. I remem- ber, also, the silence of the house, and the expression of satisfaction which that speech elicited from men who were not wont to Hatter. And why satisfaction \ Not because of the beauties of rhetoric, and the graces of oratory, though occasions are recorded when Mr. Davis rose into the regions of impassioned elo- quence, and Btirred his audience profoundly: but because he had something to say; because he had studied and mastered the subject; was familiar with the condition and wants of those for whom lie spoke; and then uttered riffhl on the honest convictions of his bosom. Therefore he spoke well. It' he possessed not the eloquence which pleases most a popular assembly, he was capable of that which is mosl acceptable to serious, thoughtful men, who want to be informed and convinced, — fullness of fact, clearness of thought, strength of argument,and an unusual power of lucid expression. His influence in the halls of 13 legislation was universally acknowledged ; and it wen I forth in the printed page, on his chosen subjects, as widely and effectively as that of any of his cotem- poraries. Indeed, who that can go back in memory fifteen or twenty years, can forget the impression made by these speeches, — with what avidity they were read in city and country, what clearness they shed upon the momentous topics of the day, how convin- cing were their arguments, how they moved the hearts of New England, and won for him the tender and grateful sympathies of those who had never heard his voice, or looked upon his countenance. This is not the time or place to speak upon the correctness of his opinions on the tariff, the sub-treasury, the protection of American fisheries, or the limitation of American slavery, — that subject which touches so deeply the moral sentiments of the American people. On all he achieved a more than New-England reputation, and was regarded with a personal confidence and attach- ment beyond the borders of his own section of the country. It was not principally as a debater, however, that Mr. Davis obtained the great influence which he secu- red, but rather as a man of sound common sense, — that most uncommon, as has been said, of all mental uit'ts. To the hasty observer he was, perhaps, slow in forming his opinions, because the great grasp of his intellect enabled him to measure all sides of a -■■ quiet pleasures which he loved, and enjoy again those home scenes, which, by the strength of his attach- 1G ments and the gentleness of his nature, he so adorned. A change had come over the current of his life — a change which, if we may judge from the ample bio- graphies of English statesmen, is often attended with ill-concealed vexation, even when the public duties can no lunger be performed. Gracefully and without a pang relinquishing his honors, he sought the repose of hi- home. It was the haven of rest after being heaved upon the changeful billows ; the calm of the evening after the heats of the day are over; the peace after the storm. The end of the perfect man and upright is peace evermore. But in his retirement he indulged not in idleness ; such a man could not be permitted to rest in inglorious ease. There was unabated confidence in his tried experience, his wisdom, and integrity ; and larger demands continued to be made for his Bervices. He was one to whom a dying husband and father would not fear to commit the care of wife and chil- dren, and a thoughtful community entrnsl tin- rich leg- acies of the past. Years ago, his connsel had been -ought by men who had never seen his face, and only had heard on the other side of the Atlantic how com- petent, and honest, and faithful he was; and he had been honorably employed by foreign capitalists t<» aid in the restoration of the credit of Borne of our West- ern Slate-. And now thai lie was retired from public life, his wisdom, judgment, and experience were sought by the community in many greal affairs partaking the nature of public trusts. But his home was dearto him. and its repose grateful, and he avoided tin-' a- much as he could consistently with his ideas of duty. lb- 17 recurred with fresh interest, after so long an interrup- tion, to his earlier classic studies. lie indulged his t;iste for antiquarian lore, which had been the unction of his life, and watched over the interests of the Anti- quarian Society, of which he was the presiding officer ^ with unabated interest. His garden and his orchards were his delight. And in intercourse with his neigh- bors and friends, who loved to look upon his manly face, and to listen to his affluent and varied dis- course, cordial in Ins habits, and revered by the people among whom he lived, his days passed pleasantly and happily away. His home was dear to him, and its repose grateful ; how dear and grateful they were, we learn when we see with what alacrity he repaired his tent, and gath- ered about him the conveniences and ornaments which would make that home agreeable. Not that he in- dulged the vain and presumptuous hope that he could dwell here for ever, or long. He saw the sword sus- pended by a single hair, and knew that his hour could not be long delayed ; for, the victim of sudden attacks of disease, he had more than once been brought low, and lain close to the chambers of death. And so, not for himself did he build, but for others more dear than himself. He would leave a fitting spot, consecrated to the sanctities and hospitalities of home, where, though he should be gone, his scattered tribes might gather, and bind yet closer the tie which his presence had done so much to cement. No ! he was not deceived. He knew that his days could not be many on the earth ; that ere long the strong man would bow himself, the 2 18 windows would be darkened, and the floors be shut in the streets. For, cannot we now remember a gentleness of manner, mellowed graces of the character, quick- ened sensibility and ripened virtue-, as it' the world of sense were retiring, and the world of a spiritual being growing more near ! Cannot we now remember his frequent recurrence to the highest subjects of human thought; his large disconrse on God's wonderful love, Christ's mediation, and the nnfathomed mystery of fu- turity, as if the faith which had been the guide of his youth and the strength of his manhood, were now changing into a deeper experience, and moulding him for the skies? No! not he — it is we who were de- ceived; for when we contemplated the ever-active in- tellect, and saw the eye as yet not grown dim, nor the strength abated; when we saw the hand yet bnsied with these material objects, and the large preparations for the enjoyment of life, we associated his image with the returning seasons and their change. We fondly dreamed that the -citing sun would not yet go down, bnt still shine on, if with milder beam, yet no less be- nignantly. It is we who were deceived ; for, alas for the vanity of human wishes, and the uncertainty of human expectations! while we were looking forward to a few years a1 Leasl of profitable and plea-ant inter- course, deluded, perhaps, bj onr hopes, God's dread messenger was already sent, and had begun his work in secresy ami in silence among the delicate organs ^\' the frame. Even while we gazed, thai countenance, so marked. was changed; that voice, SOoften heard in the counsels of the nation, was forever hushed ; that dig- 19 nified and manly form sunk in the arms of death ; that noble spirit, which blessed us for a season, was lost to earth, and went back to its God. Yesterday we stood by the grave of one of the most conspicuous men among us — conspicuous for Lis integrity, his patriotic devotion, and his long public services. In a career so marked, it would be strange if none differed from him in sentiment, and none assumed to have detected failure in some acts of his life. There were occasions, few and rare, where on the floor of Con- gress, he was called on to repel insinuations rashly or wickedly made, and when he administered a justly merited rebuke; There were times when his caution was misunderstood for timidity, and his ancient rever- ence for the constitution of his country was construed into indifference to the cause of freedom. There were times, too, when, relinquishing cherished associations, he stood up as the frank and fearless advocate of that cause, and maintained it with a growing conviction, " without apprehension, without equivocation, without compromising.' 1 In such emergencies, could he always escape the altered eye of unkindness on his actions, the whisper of dissent? But if there be any here who differed from him in judgment upon public affairs, let them remember the integrity of purpose which anima- ted him, and the clearness of perception which guided his judgment; and, in the language of his own beau- tiful eulogy on the death of Mr. Adams, "let the man- tle of oblivion be thrown over every unkind thought of him, if one there be; let us yield our homage of admiration to his many virtues ; and let it be our pray- 20 er, if summoned in a like sudden and awful maimer, we may not he found unprepared, but the rather en- joying that peace which is the end of the perfect man." Let us remember, there is now a desolate home, and hearts sorrowing because he who was it- light and joy, whose benignant Bmile, whose tender sympathies, whose wise and gentle bearing, consecrated that home, is no longer there. She who has so long been the compan- ion of his thoughts, and nurse at his pillow, into whose • •ar, in dying, he poured the accent- of undying affec- tion, and they who had a lather most indulgent and revered! — we know they mourn not as those without hope ; for he is not dead, but "gone on before.' 1 And if there is any consolation in the sympathy of a mourn- ing community; if there is any comfort in the heartfelt regrets of those who knew him best; if there is anj solace in the assurance that a Father's hand is lain heavily only to bless the more, — they will be consoled and comforted, their present darkness will be changed into light ineffable, and for their present grief will be opened fountains of repose. My friends, members of the community and fellow- worshippers, we Lave contemplated a life of singular l»urit \ , probity, fidelity, and Buccess. We have lingered over it- beginning, its progress, and its end. In the niid-f of our vain confidences, we have been Btartled by a sudden and dark visitation of Providence. We have -t-'ud l,\ the bier of the revered and beloved. We have been brougbl face to face with the sterner realities of our human existence. We have been made to behold the strange and touching contrasts of human 21 greatness find human weakness, of death in life, and life in death. And what is the lesson ? u Mark the perfect man and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace." The man of large gifts and con- spicuous station and enduring influence, has passed away. He began his career in no exalted station, with no advantage above yours and mine. But by fidelity and the force of perseverance and inward principles, he acquired inward power, and attained to a large success. Tempted as we are, yet he held last his integrity ; tried as Ave all must be, yet he did not falter ; arrested often by painful sickness as few are, yet he pressed on. AYhile truth, purity, gentleness, Christian charity, affectionate tenderness of nature, and nobility of char- acter shall be held worthy of esteem, let the example of the life just closed be kept green in our memories. He sleeps amid the graves of our honored dead. And while the spring flower shall bloom and the au- tumn leaves shall fall upon the spot where he lies, af- fectionate kindred, never ceasing to regret, will mourn the fond husband, the kind father, the thoughtful rela- tive; humble villagers, among whom he was born, and with whom he loved to mingle, will think then of one ayIio in his greatness never forgot the lowly; honored 1 >atriots will meditate on one then who clung to his coun- try with so true an affection, and served her so faithfully ; and you, brethren and fellow-worshippers! whohaveso often communed with him in tin; quiet of sacred inter- course, and have so often sat with him in this place of our solemnities, will sometimes visit the hallowed spot ; and your hearts will melt as you shall remember Avbat 22 a manly intellect has passed from your councils. When all have paid their meed of admiration, when Learned associates shall have expressed their sorrow, and the commonwealth has perhaps ceased to mourn one of her mosl gifted sons, he who now addresses you will still continue to sorrow for the excellent parishioner, the kind neighbor, and the faithful friend : and his faith shall be strengthened as he remem- bers the end of the upright, and the peace of the perfect man. APPENDIX. The following article from the New York Tribune, of April 22, 1854, is one of the many tributes rendered by the press of the coun- try to the worth and public services of Mr. Davis : — " The death of Gov. Davis, of Massachusetts, is an event which we cannot pass over in silence. In addition to the brief biographical sketch of his life which we published yesterday, we are impelled to testify our respect for the eminent talents and elevated character of tli.it distinguished and most worthy man. As governor of his native State, and as one of her representatives in Congress, he bad no small share in establishing for her the distinction of the " model Common- wealth." In one or the other of these capacities, he served his State for twenty-four years. And during the whole of that long period, though it was illustrated by the career of some of the greatest men that Massachusetts has produced — prolific though she has been in men of eminence — no one had a more decided hold upon popular affection and esteem than John Davis. "Unlike many public men of note in Massachusetts' annals, Gov. Davis never especially devoted himself to the cultivation of letters. It was no part of his ambition to read either Latin or Greek for the pur- pose of quoting it. That small style of literary distinction in vogue in the Bay State, had no charms for his large and vigorous under- standing, lie was a man of earnest thought, of comprehensive scope of mind, of steady and unerring judgment, of inflexible integrity, and unswerving decision of character. He was rather distinguished as a man of large general powers, than as an eminent writer or brilliant talker. Yet for clearness of statement, robusl sense, and powerful logic, bis speeches will bear a favorable comparison with any delivered 24 in Congress during the long term of lus public service. His tariff sp >hes, especially, in their facts, figures, and logic, arc models of in- structive and invulnerable argumentation. And to his speeches in Congress was accorded always this emphatic testimonial : They w< always attentively listened to, and their positions seldom or never as- sailed. Never speaking for the sake of speaking, but always because he had something to say which demanded utterance and challenged regard, he uniformly commanded the stricl attention of his auditors. ■• Bui it is as an honest, independent, fearless public man, thai we chiefly desire to speak of Gov. Davis, and to bear our emphatic testi- mony to his sterling worth. Cool, cautious, conservative in his general tone <>(' mind, perhaps he failed at times to win the quick approval of the ardenl and enthusiastic. But if lie was sometimes slow to move, when he did move he always moved in the right direction. Ee never was cajoled or seduced or corrupted into any crooked ways. His path was broad and straightforward, and always illumined by the light of a manly intellecl and unquestioned honesty of purpose. No man had clearer views in all public emergencies, and no man ever more faithfully followed his convictions. Conciliatory in temper, moderate and circumspejet in action, occasions yet arose in his public car* when upon important questions he was found standing and vol alone, and in opposition to the most cherished relations. In the great contest of 1850, in the preliminary skirmishes t<\' the two y< ars which led to it, and in all the direcl and incidental conflicts thai gre^ oul of it, John Davis was the fearless and unflinching friend and leader in the cause of freedom. 1 fe was one of the earliesl and mosl resolute of the supporters of Gen. Taylor's policy on the Territorial question, and one of the most conspicuous and inflexible opponents of the Foote"ad- justments," known as the Compromises of 1850. Gov. Davis was one of the t'.-w eminenl men in Congress who could never 1"' alarmed or shaken by the periodical threats of secession and dissolution which have at various times disfigured the annals of our political history. Sober and measured as he always was in his public conduct,and in his comments upon public affairs, he yet never hesitated to deride and contemn the bugbear apprehensions which some of our distinguished men were wont to habitually express respecting the great fragility of thi. Union, and the great necessity <■( compromising to save it. A 25 "crisis," such as could be got by little fellows like Foote, or the more formidable movements of Calhoun and McDuffie, while it occasioned grave concern on the part of statesmen of timid nerves, or of those whose interests were promoted bj magnifying it, never disturbed the equanimity of John Davis. Ee was one of the men who never be- lieved in the froth and rhodomontade of the South about disunion ; and was always ready to say, " Lei the trial come." His language on all such occasions was, •• If we have a Government, let us know it, and if we have not, let us know it." It was by this steadiness and stability of character, that he always exercised a powerful influence in Con- gress, never measured and seldom recognized in public, because of its being unseen, but which was none the less effective on that account. The future biographer of Gov. Da\is will do him injustice if he fails to hold him up as a man eminently fitted for emergencies; as a man of clear judgment, resolute purpose, ready to act without apprehen- sion, without equivocation, and without compromising. In these qual- ities he occupies a rank inferior to none of his cotemporaries; while his career in these respects affords a striking contrast to more than one of Massachusetts' most distinguished representatives in the Sen- ate. If that State would always send to Congress men made after the model of " honest John Davis," the title of " model Common- wealth " would as well apply to her political representation at Wash- ington, as it now applies to her industrial development and her social status. If she could always have such men to represent her in Con- a -s or occupy her governors chair, her glory would remain undimmed, and her highest honors untarnished." 3 W 73 A s& • • » < * ' mJI i • *°%.'-w'' ,0° *o *• ^fo' / 1 ; '>^lfe* r . "^v c£ ,* v .•; o„ - . °* * >•«•* ■JV ^° ••* ♦V V. • , '--.< & ^ * <■ % °Wi \m- ^ ^ .. V ' • ^ y-* •. '♦* - > X'*™V V™>* V™*'< 0^ e °JL • * . **b " » v>t« .* ;; '* iV »kV* V ^ \/* '*^K* *^ * t - o • ^ .** .*&&•• +4 "•«. *b ^ . \W^ o % *>^ °~ A *^* o c/3 . fej ♦■^V/ »;* .r.V o « ♦ ^>. * • ■ • ° 4 v v v .:• •a? ..Li:.-. *> ** * o * v . MY- ^ t *V3» *t» ^9' V^ • ^-^ ^ ► jiOrtft^ ^ ^