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A MEMOIR OF

THE

LIFE

DANIEL WEBSTER.

Br SAMUEL L. ENAFP.

BOSTON
PUBLISHED BY STIMPSON AND CLAPP.
1831.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1831,
by Stimpson & Clapp, in the Clerk's Office ofthe District
of Massachusetts.

LIFE OF WEBSTER.

In a free country, where public opinion sways every
thing of a public nature ; where men are called from
the mass of their fellow-citizens to offices of trust and
distinction, and return again to private life, and still
are eligible to the same, or new situations ; and where
there is nothing permanent but a fair, and an honest
reputation, it becomes each one, desirous of being able
to bear his part properly, to make himself acquainted
with men, as well as things. It is easier to collect
matters for statistical tables, to make geographical
surveys, and to ascertain the capacities of rivers and
streams ; in fact, to get at all the physical resources of
a country, than to acquire a scanty knowledge of the
intellectual wealth of a people ; particularly when they
are scattered over such an extent of territory as we are
in the United States. Curiosity prompts us to inquire
something of the personal appearance of a distinguished
individual, something of his age, manner, habits, and
disposition ; for we do not think entirely in the abstract
on any subject. We must see some resemblance to
Hercules to be satisfied with the account of his great
strength; his colossal frame must accompany our
1

LIFE OF WEBSTER.

thoughts of his mighty deeds. To wait until men are
dead to make ourselves acquainted with their characters,
has more of modesty than wisdom in it. In this, we
should rather be living with the dead, than with the
animated, active beings around us ; not that we should
be ignorant of those who have finished their labors, and
who have gone to receive their rewards ; who have
stamped the by-gone age with their illustrious deeds,
or intellectual productions. These should be held in
sweet remembrance ; but those who are now efficient
agents in the affairs of men, should also be our study.
If we make a wrong estimate of the dead, it will not do
much harm ; for those who come after us will correct
our opinions and reverse our judgments upon the merits
of those who have passed away. But if we are misled
in our estimates of the virtues or talents, dispositions or
opinions of the living, we may do ourselves an injury
by lavishing confidence where it is not deserved, or by
withholding it when it should be given. What is meant
by a knowledge of human nature, but an acquaintance
with the motives, principles, and actions of the living ?
Our country abounds in rich materials for sketches and
memoirs of distinguished men. Some of these memoirs
and notices we have had, of our prominent naval, and
military, and diplomatic men ; and sometimes we have
seen a notice of a poet or an orator, but not always
drawn with a deep knowledge of the subject, or in an
independent spirit.
The memoir of one of our most eminent jurists,

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 3
statesman, and orators, was contemplated some time
since, and a hasty sketch given to the public. The
good feelings shown to that scanty production, which
was sent into the world without conference with any
one on the subject, or without looking for a single fact
not within the recollection of the writer, has induced
him to extend his remarks upon the events of the life
of Mr. Webster, and upon his labors at the bar, in the
halls of legislation, and among his fellow citizens, as
occasions called forth his talents.
Daniel Webster was born in the town of Salisbury,
situated on the banks of the Merrimack, in the State of
New Hampshire, on the 18th day of January, in the
year of our Lord, 1782. His father, grand-father and
great-grand-father, were named Ebenezer, and were
descendants of Thomas Webster, an inhabitant of
Hampton in that State, as early as 1656, who died
in 1715, aged 83, and whose son Ebenezer was one of
the grantees of Kingston in 1692, and a settler there
about 1700. The father of Daniel Webster was
born at Kingston, in 1739 ; the son of a farmer.
He left his father's farm at the early age of eighteen,
to serve as a soldier in the wars of 1755. The conflict
at that time with the French and Indians was a severe
one ; and New England, as well as some other colonies,
was heavily taxed for provincial troops. The youthful
soldier was selected as one of a distinguished corps,
called Rogers's rangers. Major Robert Rogers, a
native of Londonderry, in the State of New Hampshire,

4 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
was authorized by the British Government to raise
several companies to range the frontiers in winter as
well as in summer, in order to watch the hostile Indians,
who often, in the most inclement season, made attacks
upon the defenceless inhabitants of the frontiers. The
body of troops called the rangers, were taken from the
boldest and hardiest of the yeomanry of the land.
They were doubly armed, and carried with them snow-
shoes and skates for service ; and generally made their
head-quarters at the southern extremity of Lake George.
The snow-shoes put them on an equality with their foes;
and with their skates they had greatly the advantage of
the Indians. Stark, Putnam, and several others, who
were distinguished during the revolutionary war, were
trained in this school. Some of the well authenticated
exploits of this hardy band seem like romance to us
at the present day. All along the mountain borders
of Lake George, spots are shown where the rangers
fought desperate battles in the winter season ; some
times with more than twice their numbers. This corps
fought from 1755 to the fall of Quebec, in 1759.
They were put foremost in battle by Abercrombie and
Amherst ; and some of them were sent to assist Wolfe.
The youthful soldier was made for a ranger, from his
corporeal and intellectual powers, which were of a
robust order. Rogers states in his journal, that their
packs were generally of twice the weight of those
commonly carried by soldiers. Many of this band
perished in tlieir frontier campaigns ; but some of the

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 5
survivors, who had repelled the foe, at the peace of
Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1763, took advantage of this quiet
time, and pushed into the wilderness to form settlements.
Among them was Mr. E. Webster. He took up his
march, and penetrated the forest fifteen miles above the
garrison town, — now Concord, — the seat of Govern
ment for that State. This new settlement was called
Salisbury, after a town of that name in Massachusetts,
from which many of the settlers had emigrated. Here
the enterprising adventurers set about building up one of
those corporations that make up New England; one
of those primitive assemblies governed by patriarchal
simplicity, and yet with energy and effect. While he
and his friends, a handful of sturdy yeomanry, were
clearing the land and watching the growth of their crops
and their children, the revolutionary storm burst out.
They were accustomed to dangers, not to fears. Every
possession had been gained by great efforts ; and they
were prepared to support their property and their
liberties with still greater. The soldier of a former
war was now called to the command of a company
raised in his own town and vicinity; and great confi
dence was placed in one who had had such experience
as a ranger. In 1777, when the alarm was given that
Burgoyne was making rapid strides into our territory,
having taken Ticonderoga, which had been thought
quite impregnable, the militia of New York and New
England started at once, and hastened to meet the
enemy. Captain Webster was with Stark's force in his
1*

LIFE OF WEBSTER.

spirited and successful engagement with Count Baum,
at Bennington, and also at the surrender of Burgoyne.
After the peace of 1783, he was elected aynember of
the Legislature of New Hampshire, and served in both
branches of the General Court. In 1791, he was|
appointed Judge of the Court of Common Pleas, and
was on the bench for several years. Judge WeDSter was
a man of strong sense; and, although his education
was, of course, in that age limited, yet he was well
acquainted with the Constitution of the States and the
laws of the land as they affected the great question of
rights and duties of freemen ; and his opinions were held
in great respect by his neighbors, — and a neighborhood
is a very extensive circle in a new country. In the
latter part of his life, Judge Webster found leisure for
reading, of which he was very fond. His society was
sought by all the intelligent men around him, for he
excelled in conversation. He died at the age of
seventy-seven, in 1816.
The maiden name of Daniel Webster's mother was
Eastman ; she was a native of Salisbury, in Massachu
setts, a woman of intellect, piety, and good affections,
— loved and respected in her neighborhood and ven
erated by her children. She had three sons and two
daughters, and was their primary instructer in the ele
ments of letters. With the true feelings of a maternal
heart she watched the growth of her sons ; and with
that inspiration, which Heaven often vouchsafes to a
mother to reward her for her anxieties and pains, she

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 7
prophesied their future distinction ; and, more happy
than many, she lived to see the prophecy fulfilled.
In the neighborhood of Salisbury, in the town of
Boscawen, there resided a clergyman, who possessed
the soul of the man of Ross, and as the inhabitants of
the surrounding country were too happy in their pos
sessions from their industry, to require him to apportion
maids or apprentice orphans, if he had possessed the
means, still there was a way for him to be quite as use
ful, in dispensing the blessings of education. This man
was the Rev. Samuel Wood, D. D., who added to an
ardent love of learning great industry and patience.
Hundreds of those, who were striving for an education,
received his instruction gratuitously, and many of them
shared his hospitable table without remuneration, or a
wish for it on his part. He is still living with the same
noble disposition, if his age does not admit of the same
exertions. This good man saw the promising talents
of the subject of this memoir, and recommended his
father to send him to college. For this purpose, the
son was sent to Exeter academy, in his native State.
This was judicious, for Exeter academy is one of the
best literary and scientific institutions in the country.
This, with its twin sister, Phillips's Andover academy,
was founded and liberally endowed by the Phillips fam
ily — a name identified with the literature, science, and
theology of the country. The Exeter academy was
then and still is, under the superintendence of Benjamin
Abbot, L. L. D., a fine classical scholar, of gentlemanly

8 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
and affectionate manners ; a man admirably calculated
for the Principal of such a seminary. Dr. Abbott had
the sagacity to discover at once the capacity and talents
of his pupil, and used his best exertions to bring him
forward, which he did in a very rapid manner. Such
men as Wood and Abbot should be remembered with
the great teachers of youth, — Milton, Busby, Johnson
and Parr, to whom so much credit has justly been
given, as instructers of the great minds of England.
There is an affectionate connexion between an instruc
tor and his pupil, which lasts through life, if there has
been a good understanding in the early days of the
aspirant for literary and scientific honors with his director
and teacher. ' / taught that boy,' is the proud reflec
tion of the teacher, when his pupil becomes distin
guished ; and, I was educated by that celebrated instruc-
ter, is the heartfelt response of one, however elevated,
whose mind has been properly nurtured, and the
luxuriance of whose imagination has been judiciously
pruned by the friendly and sagacious care of a kind
and intelligent teacher. Mr. Webster has often been
heard to express his obligations to Wood and Abbot
for their attention to his education. They share his
fame, and enhance, while they enjoy, his honors.
From this academy, Mr. Webster went to Dart
mouth college, an institution which has produced no
ordinary share of distinguished men in every walk of
life.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 9
There is one feature in the character of that college,
which deserves to be mentioned. There was no man
nerism — the bane of many seminaries, contracted by
the course of studies required there, nor could you tell
from the graduate the course of his discipline while a
student. After exacting the ordinary requisitions, the
mind of each scholar was allowed to take its own bent,
without the stamp of a reigning fashion, as common as it
is injurious to young men. In Dartmouth college there
was no uniformity of coats, caps, or thoughts. The
alumni exhibited a wilderness of free minds, over
whom the alma mater had no other control, than the
exactions pf a respectful compliance to a few necessary
rules in order to secure the ordinary duties of a student.
Mr. Webster was distinguished in his class for a general
knowledge of all the branches of learning taught in the
college, but much more for a bold, strong, independent
manner of thinking and of expressing his opinions. He
grappled with authors at that time not simply to make
himself master of what they wrote, but to test their
merits by a standard of his own. If such a mind is not
always right in its conclusions, it is certainly on the road
to truth. The scholars acknowledged his great talents,
and the Faculty sanctioned their opinion of his merits.
The Professor of Natural Philosophy, Judge Woodward,
who lived but three years after Mr. Webster left
college, often spoke of him in high terms, and accom
panied his remarks with a confident prophecy of his
future eminence. 'That man's victory is certain,'

10 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
said the sage Professor, ' who reaches the heart through
the medium of the understanding. He gained me by
combating my opinions, for I often attacked him merely
to try his strength.' The good old Professor was then
in the wane of life ; but if his struggles with his pupil
lacked something of his former energy, (for he was in
the prime of life a strong man, and had but few equals
in the field of argument) still there was such a sincerity
in his opinions, and so much of his former insight into
character remained, that all were prepared to respect
and believe his visions of coming days.
On leaving college, Webster went to Fryburgh to
take charge of an academy. Here he officiated a year.
He discharged his duties faithfully from principle, but his
heart was not thought to have been deeply engaged in the
business ; for his own plans for self-improvement were
too vast to permit him to take great delight in toiling to
cultivate the minds of others in that stage of knowledge.
He was preparing to be an instructer of nations, not of
a few ofthe community in which he lived. Fryburgh
is an interior town in Maine, but here he found books
and some intelligent society, particularly in the family
of the good clergyman of that town. The Rev.
William Fessenden, was a pious well educated man,
and was of course fond in his old age, of a youthful
vigorous mind, with a spirit fresh and animated from
recent views of nature and of man.
It is a fact worth noticing, that many of the great
men of New-England disciplined their minds and made

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 11
their first earnings as instructers of youth ; Dr. Joseph
Warren, John Adams, Judge Cushing, Governor Sum
ner, Judge Parsons, and many others were for a time
schoolmasters. It was thought a year or two were well
spent in teaching the classics, as teaching roused their
recollections, which, in this country too soon fade away
in the business of life, for want of a more frequent
recurrence to books.
The next season, Mr. Webster returned to his native
town and entered the office of his friend and neighbor,
Thomas W. Thompson, a man of taste and talents,
then engaged in the profitable course of country business.
If Thompson had been in a less absorbing course in his
profession, he would have been one of the most elegant
scholars of his day. His style was classical, and his
manners refined. He had been distinguished as a polite
and well grounded scholar at Cambridge, and was a
tutor there for several years. The routine of such an
office being soon understood, Mr. Webster was desirous
of witnessing a more enlarged course of practice ; and for
this purpose he went to Boston, and put himself under
the instruction of Christopher Gore, a distinguished
civilian, who was not engaged in common business, but
was consulted on affairs of importance, and attended
court only in cases which required high acquirements
and great powers. His library was extensive, and
Mr. Webster sat down in his office to make himself a
lawyer on a broad scale. He was then acquainted with
the ordinary practice of courts. At this time he made

12 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
himself master of special pleading ; Williams's edition
of Saunders had not then appeared. The book was
studied, when studied at all, in the old folio edition.
Mr. Webster took this up, translated the Latin and
Norman French into English, and made an abstract of
every case in this book. This gave him a familiarity
with the forms of special pleading. This is a necessary
science to every lawyer. The subtilty in the method
of reasoning found in special pleading had its origin in
the Aristotelian philosophy ; and if at times justice has
been strangled by it, still it has often assisted to bring
a subject to its points and bearings, and to give the
powers of ratiocination a directness, that could not be
expected under the form of a simple negation in reply
to numerous allegations. At all events, it was necessary
to be known in order to meet those, who by having
some knowledge of it were apt to affect a superiority
over those who had neglected to make themselves
masters of the science. Here, too, he discovered, that
a profound knowledge of English History was necessary
to make a lawyer, and that law was, in a good degree,
an historical science.
To this end, he devoted much time to this study,
and then he had not the facilities, which have since
been presented to the reader. David Hume was a
deep and learned philosopher, but he does not afford
the student so much knowledge of the growth of English
law as others have since done. Hume generalized
where others have since detailed. Lingard, Turner

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 13
Hallam and others have saved the student of this day
many hours of laborious research, then necessary for
those who wished for a proper share of knowledge in
the origin and progress of English law.
Mr. Gore having become acquainted with the capacity
and acquirements of Mr. Webster, the office relation
between them was forgotten, and they stood to each
other on the footing of intellectual friends. This was
a matter of importance to Mr. Webster, for Mr. Gore
was an elegant man. He had been a commissioner
under Jay's treaty, and had, in that official situation,
resided several years in England. He was lettered and
polite, as well as sound and erudite in his profession.
If public stations gave him access to the higher circles
of society, the dignity and ease of his manners and the
graces of his person secured him consideration and
respect. He was acquainted with most of the great
men of his time, and he communicated his information
with so much exactness, discrimination and taste, that
his listeners became familiar with them also; and no one
profited more by these ready communications than
Mr. Webster. No public man in our country has more
successfully cultivated this kind of knowledge — an ac
quaintance with living prominent men — and this for the
purpose of knowing how much intellect, and how many
the acquirements, requisite for the management of the
political and civil world. Not that Mr. Webster has
studied, as some do, day and night, the book of English,
Scotch and Irish peerages, or penetrated deeply into the
2

14 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
heraldry of distinguished commoners through one of
the keepers of the office of family honors ; but he has
been careful to trace the rise and progress of every
great mind engaged in any branch of letters or science,
or in active life. With the labors of English lawyers
and statesmen, he was as familiar before this period, as
books could make him ; but now he had an opportunity
of getting from an intelligent observer what books could
not teach.
On finishing his studies for admission to the bar, he
was introduced to the court by Mr. Gore with some
remarks highly complimentary, prognosticating his
future distinction while declaring his present character
and acquirements. It was supposed that under the au
spices of Mr. Gore and his friends, Mr. Webster would
have commenced his professional career in Boston.
There was a fine field for his growth, but he had made
up his determination to return to his native State and
cultivate his mind in the quiet of a country life, certainly
for a while. He ventured to meet the maxim, that a
prophet is not without honor but in his own country,
and returned to the vicinity of his birth-place to open
his office. In this retreat from city life, with a good
library, and just business enough to keep up his spirits,
he pursued a systematic course of studies, with so much
intensity, that his friends became alarmed, thinking his
constitution was sinking under the severity of his appli
cation to books. At this crisis of his fate, his friends
persuaded him to remove to Portsmouth, the commer-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 15
cial city of the State. Here he found a cheerful intel
ligent circle of friends, who made his leisure hours pass
off happily, and he recovered from his indisposition, as
a strong man rises from weariness and exhaustion, the
moment he has been refreshed by rest.
Soon after Mr. Webster had opened his office at
Boscawen, a trial for murder came on in the county of
Plymouth. The court assigned him to defend the
prisoner, although the time had not elapsed for his
admission as a Counsellor at the Supreme Court of the
State. The murder was foul and horrid, perpetrated
on an innocent man — a fellow prisoner for debt. They
were in the same room. No provocation was given by
the sufferer, or none, that could in the slightest degree,
palliate the offence. The fact of killing could not be
questioned. The defence, of course, was narrowed to
one point — the insanity ofthe prisoner. There were
no proofs of his former insanity, but the malignity of his
disposition was well known to all the country around ;
his Counsel, nevertheless, was not deterred from going
on, with all these formidable circumstances to contend
with. He argued, that the enormity of the deed,
perpetrated without motive, or without any of those
motives operating upon most minds, furnished presump
tive proof of the alienation of the prisoner's mind ; and
even the cool deliberation and apparent serenity which
he exhibited at the time the deed was done, were proofs
that reason was perverted and a momentary insanity
had come over him. The Advocate astonished the

16 LIFE Otf WEBSTER.
court and jury and all who heard him, by his deep
knowledge of the human mind. He opened all the
springs of action and analyzed every property of the
mind so lucidly and philosophically, that it was a new
school for those who heard him. He showed the differ
ent shapes insanity assumed from a single current of
false reasoning upon a particular subject, while there is
a perfect soundness of mind on every subject, to the
reasoning aright upon wrong premises, and to the
reasoning wrong upon right premises, up to those par
oxysms of madness, when the eye is filled with strange
sights, and the ear with strange sounds, and reason is
entirely dethroned. As he laid open the infirmities of
human nature, the jury were in tears, and the bystand
ers still more affected ; but common sense prevailed
over argument and eloquence, and the wretch was
convicted and executed. Notwithstanding the fate of
the murderer, the speech lost nothing of its effect upon
the people. It was long the subject of conversation in
every public place, and is often mentioned now with
admiration. The path of a lawyer is never strewed
with flowers ; he must be constantly harnessed for the
contest, and he often contends with fearful odds,
and cannot choose his cause, or his client, or his wit
nesses. To discharge his duties properly he should
have hardihood, tact, talents and learning, with readi
ness, patience and forbearance. In this new situation
at Portsmouth, Mr. Webster was encompassed with
shrewd and powerful men. Among these were two

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 17
gentlemen very much distinguished in their profession.
Mr. Mason from his eminent talents and skill in the
management of causes had acquired an extensive prac
tice. He was witty, sarcastic, argumentative and per
severing, and therefore a most powerful antagonist.
Judge Smith, who resided in a neighboring town, about
this time returned to the bar, after having been Chief-
Justice of the State. He was one of the best read law
yers in New-England, arid also a fine classical scholar.
His speaking at the bar was easy, fluent, playful or
severe, as the occasion required. His opinions passed
for law with the court and jury, and the weight of his
character was felt in every cause in which he was
engaged. With these and others of eminence, Mr.
Webster had to contend at an age when most young
lawyers are preparing themselves for future labors in
minor causes and in inferior courts. Mr. Webster did
not rely on his eloquence for success, but prepared him
self with great industry and care. He secured the
jury by a clear statement of his case, and always used
such plain language, that they could not misunderstand
him ; they thought it was just such as they would have
used, had they been called to tell the same story, not
knowing how difficult it is to reach such a style of
communicating our thoughts. Not two years had
elapsed before he was considered among the first jury
lawyers of the country. The elder practitioners now
sharpened their wits to take the lead of him in the law
arguments to the bench. In this they were disap-
2*

18 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
pointed, for he was at home there also. He argued
his cause to the court with as much clearness and force
as he had done with the jury. His mind, naturally
logical, serzed the strong points in a law case, and he
pushed his reasonings home to the understandings of
the judges. His seniors at the bar now found it was
better to divide the empire with him than to dispute it.
These great men soon became his cordial friends, and
are now amongst his warmest admirers and eulogists.
It was natural, that one so well fitted for public life
should feel some desire to try his fortune in politics, at
least so far as to measure his strength with those of other
men, who had gained reputation in the halls of legisla
tion. He began well ; the times were stormy ; war hung
over us ; party spirit was full of bitterness in every part
of the country ; sound and fury took the place of fair
discussion, and rancorous feuds were in every town and
village, but Mr. Webster entered into none of them.
He was decided, firm and straight-forward. No politi
cian was ever more direct or bold ; he had nothing of
the demagogue about him. Fully persuaded of the
true course, he followed it with so much firmness and
principle, that sometimes his serenity was taken by the
furious and headstrong as apathy ; but when a fair and
legitimate opportunity offered, he came out with such
strength and manliness, that the doubting were satisfied,
and the complaining silenced. In the worst of times
and in the darkest hour he had faith in the redeeming
qualities of the people. They might be wrong, but he

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 19
saw into their true character sufficiently to believe, that
they would never remain permanently in error. In some
of his conversations upon the subject, he compared
the people in their management of the national affairs
to that of the sagacious and indefatigable raftsmen on
his own Merrimack, who had falls and shoals to contend
with in their course to the ocean — guiding fearlessly and
skilfully over the former — between rocks and through
breakers, and when reaching the sand banks jumping off
into the water with lever, axe, and oar, and then with
pushing, cutting and directing made all rub and go
to the astonishment of those looking on. The first
halo of political glory that hung around his brow was at
a convention of the great spirits in the county of
Rockingham, where he then resided, and such repre
sentatives from other counties as were sent to this con
vention to take into consideration the state of the nation,
and to mark out such a course for themselves as should
be deemed advisable by the collected wisdom of those
assembled. On this occasion, an address with a string
of resolutions were proposed for adoption, of which he
was said to be the author. They exhibited uncommon
powers of intellect and a profound knowledge of our
national interests. He made a most powerful speech
in support of these resolutions ; portions of which were
reprinted at that time, and which were much admired in
every part of the Union. From this time he belonged
to the United States, and not to New Hampshire exclu
sively. Massachusetts seemed to take as deep an
interest in his career as his native State.

20 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
Not far from this period, a traveller passing through
Portsmouth, when some election was near at hand, when
at the inn it was announced over the dinner table, that
Mr. Webster was to speak at a caucus that evening.
This news ran from one part ofthe town to another, and
all were enthusiastic at hearing that Mr. Webster was
to speak. The gentleman's carriage came to the door,
and he was about to get into it, when the hostler said,
' Sir, are you going to leave the town ? Mr. Webster
is to speak to-night.' The gentleman finding all classes
so much delighted to hear that Mr. Webster was going
to speak, ordered his horses to the stable, and put off
his journey until the morrow, At early candlelight he
went to the caucus room ; it was filled to overflowing ;
but some persons seeing that he was a stranger gave
way, and he found a convenient place to stand ; no one
could sit. A tremendous noise soon announced that
the orator had arrived ; but as soon as the meeting was
organized, another arose to make some remarks upon
the object of the caucus. He was heard with a polite
apathy ; another and another came, and all spoke well ;
but this would not do, and if Chatham had been among
them, or St. Paul, they would not have met the expec
tations of the multitude. The admired orator at length
arose, and was for a while musing upon something,
which was drowned by a constant cheering ; but when
order was restored, he went on with great serenity and
ease to make his remarks, without apparently making the
slightest attempt to gain applause. The audience was

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 21
still, except now and then a murmer of delight, which
showed that the great mass of the hearers were ready
to burst into a thunder of applause, if those who gen
erally set the example would have given an intimation
that it might have been done; but they, devouring
every word, made signs to prevent any interruption.
The harangue was ended ; the roar of applause lasted
long, and was sincere and heartfelt, lt was a strong,
gentlemanly, and appropriate speech, but there was not
a particle of the demagogue about it ; nothing like the
speeches on the hustings, to catch attention. He drew a
picture of the candidates on both sides of the question*
and proved as far as reason and argument could prove,
the superiority of those of his own choice ; but the gen
tleman traveller who was a very good judge, has often
said that the most extraordinary part ofit was, that a pro
miscuous audience should have had good sense enough
to relish such sound, good reasoning, in a place where
vague declamation generally is best received. As the
traveller went on to the East, he found the fame of the
speech had preceded him, and was talked of in every
bar-room and at every public table.
In the year 1812, Mr. Webster was elected a repre
sentative to Congress from the State of New Hampshire.
The election in that State is by general ticket. He
came to his duties with a high reputation as a politician,
although he had never been a member of any Legisla
ture. It was well known that he had made himself
acquainted with all the rules and orders of a delibera-

22 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
tive body ; not only the ordinary routine of business,
but the reasons on which these rules are founded
were familiar to him. Hatsell was thoroughly studied,
and all the other writers upon the subject from his
time. It is often the case, that young members of
Congress know but little of rules and orders, which in
debate takes much from their ease and confidence.
The war had been declared before he reached the
halls of Congress, and his situation was indeed a diffi
cult one. National credit was shaking in the wind,
and the public treasury nearly exhausted, when the
Secretary of that department suggested the necessity of
a bank, to revive the finances of the country. Mr. Web
ster saw a train of evils in the plan which was submitted
to Congress, and in its passage through the House he
proposed, that the bill should be sent to the committee
that reported it, with instructions to make several
amendments, which were offered by him. These
amendments changed the character of the bill in all its
essential features, but the prominent changes proposed
were, that the bank should never suspend specie pay
ments, nor be obliged to loan more to the Government
than might be found convenient. The amendments did
not pass, but his arguments in favor of them served to
defeat the bill, which was done on a third reading, the
same day. This speech of Mr. Webster is remarkable
for a profound knowledge of the principles on which the
banks of the Old World had been founded, and a
thorough history of their proceedings ; and his argu-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 23
ments against this plan were overwhelming. He
showed the evils of a circulating medium not founded
on the basis ofthe precious metals, and unsupported by
the revenues of the nation. He exposed the dangers of
giving an institution the power of suspending specie
payments at will, and thereby destroying public credit.
The treaty of Ghent soon followed, and public credit
was, in some measure revived ; but still there was an
evil in collecting the publie revenue, which in 1816,
called loudly for a remedy. The paper of banks much
under par was taken at the Treasury office, and this
upon the arbitrary decision of the Secretary of the
Treasury ; selecting the bills of some banks and refusing
those of others. Mr. Webster introduced some reso
lutions and made an able speech on this subject. His
own constituents, and in fact all New-England, were
paying, and had paid in specie, or bills equivalent to it.
The nation opened their eyes to this great injustice,
and the evil was remedied.
Mr. Webster having served four years in Congress,
found that he could not leave his profession any longer,
but must devote himself to it, to support a growing
family. He had, while at Washington measured his
strength with the first minds in the country, and felt
that he had nothing to fear from superiority. His fame
was all hard earned ; he did not rise on the surges of
party commotion. He was in the minority, but secured
the respect of the majority by pursuing an upright
course. He never opposed them when he thought they

24 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
were right, nor feared them when he believed them to
be wrong. He made no attacks merely to show his
strength, but only to vindicate himself and his friends
when they were assailed. No one has shone in Con
gress with such a regular brightness, from the hour he
first joined in the debates of that body, until the day of
his departure from the capitol.
His labors were not confined to the House of Repre
sentatives alone, for he was engaged in the Supreme
Court of the United States, in most of the important
subjects discussed before it. Here he came in contact
with many of the great lawyers of the day. William
Pinkney was then in the full blaze of his glory. The
fame of his eloquence had gone abroad into all lands.
Senators hung upon his lips with rapture, and sage
judges listened to him whole days with pleasure. Mr.
Wirt was there also ; he occupied a large space in. the
eyes of the court and of the nation. His eloquence is
of the most fascinating kind ; it convinces, persuades and
delights : but Mr. Webster stood among these and
others — Ogden, Jones and Sergeant, men of first rate
minds, unaffected by comparison or rivalry. Perhaps
no practitioner at this bar ever stood higher in the
opinion of the court than Mr. Webster. This is the
most dignified body that ever a lawyer argued before.
All is still and solemn ; there are no equivocating
witnesses to manage — no sharp retorts from struggling
Counsel to encounter, no whipping one's-self into
pathos to call up the sympathies of a soft-hearted

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 25
juryman ; but every word is addressed to men whose
passions have subsided, and who are only reached
through the medium ofthe understanding. The lovers
of trick here have no chance of displaying their art,
nor the pertinacious brow-beater his impudence. Every
thing around the advocate is formed to inspire respect
for himself and the court.
On returning from public life, Mr. Webster found his
pecuniary interests had suffered from his long absence
from the courts, and his friends were disposed to believe,
that Boston would be a much better place for him than
Portsmouth. He had already become identified with the
interests of the commercial metropolis of New-England,
and many of the opulent merchants were ready to em
ploy him. He was induced to believe, that he ought to
remove, and he did remove in 1817. Boston was then
the residence of some of the first lawyers of the nation.
Dexter was living, and as an advocate seemed to be
acknowledged without a rival in New-England. Pres-
cott, one of the most learned and prudent lawyers of
his age had removed from Salem some half dozen years
before to Boston, and was engaged in all the commercial
causes before the courts. These men were much his
seniors, but there was a considerable number of those
near his own age who, eminent in the profession, —
Sullivan, Shaw, Gorham, Hubbard and others of the
same class, — were active in the courts and had as much
business as they could attend to. There seemed to
be but little room for another in the upper row of
3

26 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
lawyers. In the lower courts of the Temple of
Themis adventurers are every day crowding onward;
to the upper it is hard to gain access, but Mr. Webster
seemed to walk in as a matter of course ; some staring,
but no one venturing to question his right to be there.
In a few months, his name was found as senior Counsel
in many important causes, and he felt as if it was his
birth-place. His practice was not confined to the
county of Suffolk, but extended to the neighboring
counties of Essex, Middlesex, Norfolk, Plymouth, and
still further. His powers as an advocate and a lawyer
were at once conceded, though some found fault with
his manners at the bar, as severe and sharp ; this, how
ever, was soon forgotten in the admiration that every
where followed him. It was in vain for his rivals, if
any he had, to hold out in any fair opposition to him,
for the great mass of the people were with him, and in
an intelligent community their power is irresistible.
Soon after Mr. Webster was settled in Boston, he was
called to the county of Essex, to defend two prisoneis
by the name of Kenniston. They were charged with
having robbed a Major Goodrich, in that county, on the
evening ofthe 19th December, 1817. The public had
been much agitated by this event. The Major had
distinguished himself when the British landed at Bangor,
in Marne. He was also in good credit in that place.
The circumstances of the robbery as stated by him were
singular. It was alleged to have taken place early in
the evening, in Newbury, on the main post-road from

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 27
Portsmouth to Boston. The Major was shot through
the palm ofthe left hand, between the third and fourth
fingers. The wound was small. Some of the money
said to have been taken from his person was found on
the ground, to which he stated he had been carried for
the purpose of effecting the robbery without noise.
Some slight marks of the point of a penknife were found
on his body. He had with great difficulty made his
way to the nearest public house, apparently in a state of
delirium. Shortly after this, he implicated the landlord
ofthe inn as an accomplice in the robbery ; but before
proceeding against him, — for this was rather a fearful
business, as the man had many friends, — he had heard
that the Kenniston's were within a short distance of the
place, on the night of the 19th. They were ignorant
beings, without character for intellectual capacity or
moral honesty : they had the day before the robbery
come from their home in New-Hampshire to the town
of Newburyport, and were wandering about that night
separately for amusement, and when arrested on sus
picion, could not prove exactly how they had passed the
evening, and probably hardly knew. Goodrich sWore,
that he believed these men were a part of the gang that
robbed him, and they were sent to prison, of course, as
bail could not be obtained by them under such charges.
Goodrich, with several assistants, repaired straightway
to the domicile of the Kenniston's, and on searching
the premises found gold and bills (which he said had
been taken from him) in the pocket of a pair of panta-

28 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
loons, and also under a pork barrel. The guilt of the
prisoners seemed irrevocably fixed — the sympathies of
the public were highly excited in favor of Goodrich,
and he was going on triumphantly to convict the pris
oners, when some singularities of his story gave rise to
suspicions, that all was not right. A few were deter4
mined, that the prisoners should be well defended, and
the whole matter thoroughly investigated ; and for this
purpose Mr. Webster was engaged to be of Counsel in
the defence. When he came to the court, he was not
apprized ofthe ground of the defence, on which the
prisoner's counsel intended to rely, namely, that it was
a sham robbery. He was startled at the suggestion
when it was first made, but patiently hearing a detailed
account of all the circumstances which had led to this
conclusion that this was the right defence, he, after
weighing them thoroughly, made up his opinion that
there had had been no robbery, and directed the junior
counsel so to open the defence. He had never argued
a cause before in the county of Essex. Goodrich had
many respectable connexions in the county. He was
born at Danvers, a town within the limits of the county.
His connexions and friends were good, honest people,
and had no suspicion of any foul play in the affair.
They flocked from affection and curiosity to the trial.
The nature of the defence was not known, except to a
few, before it was opened. The Solicitor-General
proved the robbery and guilt of the prisoners to the sat
isfaction of all in the court-house. The cross-exami-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 29
nation by Mr. Webster was terrifick. He fixed his eyes
upon Goodrich, and putting his questions with such
adroitness and force, and with such a heavy solemn
tone of voice, that in less than ten minutes he had
made several palpable contradictions in his testimony.
This advantage was followed up with great skill, and
before the prosecutor had left the stand^public opinion
was decidedly against him. The argument of Mr.
Webster followed ; it was convincing, conclusive, un
answerable. ' He seized the strong points of the de
fence, and handled them with a giant's power. The
prejudices against the Kenniston's were removed, and a
weight of moral guilt thrown on their persecutor that
has never been removed to this day. The Solicitor-
General was at once convinced by the argument he had
heard, that Goodrich was a self-robber, but he struggled
manfully against his own convictions and the impressions
of the jury, and in fact of the audience ; for in such in
stances there is an influence in the looks of the audience
which often reaches the jury-box, and sometimes the
bench of justice. The judge who sat in the cause, was
a distant relation of the Major's, but he tried it with
great fairness and independence. His charge to the jury
was lucid and impartial, and the result was an acquittal
of the prisoners. The people of Essex are among the
most enlightened portions of the United States, but
they are, like all enlightened people, of a mercurial
temperament, and the current of their feelings set against
the prisoners ; but this current was met and turned by
3*

30 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
the arguments addressed to their understandings. There
was no appeal to their sympathies for these imbecile,
humble and pitiable beings : the single question pre
sented was, are they, or are they not guilty ? The
triumph of truth and talents was complete. The eyes
of the audience were riveted on the advocate while
he was speaking, and followed him when he left the
court-house. This was the first argument of impor
tance he had made in his newly adopted State.
In the year 1818, Mr. Webster was engaged in the
Dartmouth College case which had made a great ex
citement in New-England. In 1816, the Legislature
of New-Hampshire, believing that the right of altering
or amending the charter of this college, which had been
granted by the king previous to the revolution, was
vested in them by the constitution of the State, pro
ceeded to enlarge and improve it. This act was not
accepted nor assented to by the trustees of Dartmouth
College, and they refused to submit to it any further
than they were compelled to do so by the necessities
of the case. The new institution called by the act of
the Legislature, ' The Dartmouth University,' went
into operation, as far as existing circumstances would
permit. There were two Presidents, two sets of Pro
fessors in the same village, and of course, no good
fellowship between them. The students generally
took side with the college party, a few only going over
to the university. It was a very uncomfortable state
of things. The Faculty of both institutions were highly

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 31
respectable, and capable of building up any literary
and scientific seminary j had they been under different
auspices. The lawyers were consulted) and the most
distinguished of them, Smith, Mason, and Webster were
of the opinion, that the act of the Legislature of New-
Hampshire was unconstitutional, and of course not
valid. It was conceded, that there were many difficul
ties in the case ; but it was indispensable, that the ques
tion should be decided, that one of the institutions might
survive the quarrel. The records, charter and the
evidence of the college property, were in the hands of
the new treasurer, and an action of trover was brought
by the trustees of Dartmouth College to recover them.
The facts were agreed on. The question ' whether the
acts of the Legislature of New-Hampshire of the 27th
of June, and of the 16th and 18th of December, 1816,
are valid and binding on the rights of the plaintiffs,
without their acceptance or assent V
It was a great constitutional question. The people
of Massachusetts took as deep an interest in it as those
of New-Hampshire. The cause was ably argued before
the Supreme Court of New-Hampshire, and the opin
ion of the court was given by Chief-Justice Richardson,
in favor of the validity and constitutionality of the acts
of the Legislature, and judgment was accordingly en
tered up for the defendant. Thereupon, a writ of error
was sued out by the plaintiffs in the original suit, and
the cause removed to the Supreme Court of the United
States. In March, 1818, the cause was argued before

32 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
all the judges, by Mr. Webster and Mr. Hopkinson for
the plaintiffs, and by Mr. Holmes and Mr. Wirt for the
defendant in error. The anxiety of the parties, the
great constitutional principle involved, the deep interest
felt by every lawyer in the country in the decision of
the question, gave more notoriety to the cause than to
any ever brought before that august tribunal. Some
were apprehensive that the court would evade the
question in some way or other. Mr. Webster had no
such fears. He knew the judges well enough to believe,
that while they were not anxious to meet constitutional
questions, whenever they were fully brought before
them the subject would be most solemnly considered
and as fearlessly decided. The question was argued on
both sides with great ability. The counsel were men
of research, and their reputations were in the case,
for it was well known whatever way it was decided, it
would form a leading case. Mr. Webster came to his
work fully possessed of all the views that could be
taken of the subject, and he sustained and increased hy
this argument the reputation he had acquired as a pro
found constitutional lawyer. The judgment of the
State court was reversed — the acts of the Legislature
declared null and void as being unconstitutional. The
University disappeared, the college rose with new vigor,
. and the people of New-Hampshire acquiesced in the
decision, and a great portion of the thinking people of
the country considered it as a new proof of the wisdom
and strength of the constitution of the United States.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 33
In 1820, the people ofthe commonwealth of Mas
sachusetts thought it was time to revise their State con
stitution. There were some things in it which required
amendment, particularly the oath of attachment and
adherence to the independence of the commonwealth,
and the adjuration of allegiance to all foreign princes
and potentates whatsoever, wore not a httle of the dra
pery of revolutionary suspicion ; and, as the letter of
the oath was construed, it was supposed to extend to
the exclusion of all Catholics from every office under
the government of the commonwealth. It was also
thought that the number of representatives which the
towns had a right to send was far too many for prompt
and sagacious legislation. In fact forty years had
passed away since the old constitution was formed, and
a free people wished to come together to discuss the
blessings of liberty, and to examine their charter and
see if there were not some amendments to be made.
This was natural, as for the lord of the manor to
examine his grounds, or the miser to count his gold.
The convention was large, composed of all classes of
that enlightened community. The distinguished states
men, of course, were in that body ; lawyers, who had
not become statesmen, were there also. Clergymen,
who had never before departed from the duties of their
parish and the care of souls, found themselves in this
great body, they hardly knew how — ready to assist in
revising the constitution ; and medical men, whose field
of fame had been in the lecture-room, or in the anatom-

34 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
ical theatre, or in the walks of the hospital, now found
themselves collected with others to amend the consti
tution. Indeed, men, of all pursuits in life were con
gregated for the purpose of discussing the best model
of a republican constitution. For weight, talents, ac
quirements* moral worth and political science, this body
was superior to any one ever assembled in New-
England. Their first act, was one of duty and grati
tude ; this was in electing the venerable John Adams,
of Quincy, to preside over their deliberations. The
old constitution was from his pen; He declined the
appointment, and the accomplished Chief-Justice of the
Commonwealth, Isaac Parker, was chosen in his place.
Look over the hall which way you would, and virtue,
genius, experience, clustered in every quarter. Here,
were heads silvered with age, — there, bosoms swelling
with patriotism, and every where tongues of fire to
pour out the tide of eloquence. To the republican
philosopher it was a sight full of pleasure and pride.
The youths of the land gazed .with wonder on the scene,
and as they had venerated each as individuals, they
now almost adored the collected whole. No man
looked upon the assembly with a keener eye and a
deeper feeling than the Nestor of the convention —
Adams. Some of his compatriots were there ; many
of a succeeding generation were there ; but the actors
were men of a third generation. He had known
but a few of the last, and was delighted to find so
much character and intelligence among them, The

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 35
improvements of the age were all familiar to them.
From the loop-holes of retreat, in sound health, he had
watched the advancements in knowledge in the old
world, and he was delighted to find his young country
men had marched onward with equal step. He had no
fears for the result of their deliberations ; the seal of
freedom and the stamp of knowledge were set too
deeply to be injured by any new feelings or reasoning,
nor had he any apprehension fbr their heads or Tiearts,
as he was delighted in numbering, measuring or gaug
ing, the capacities of his younger countrymen. He
considered Mr. Webster as decidedly the great man of
this assembly, and with his usual openness avowed his
opinion ; it was the general opinion, and freely acknowl
edged by all. On almost every subject, Mr. Webster
was necessarily called out, and acquitted himself with
honor ; but there were some questions agitated in that
assembly in which he took a very conspicuous part.
On the resolution relative to the oaths of office, Mr.
Webster made a speech full of sound sense ; he advo
cated the principle, that the people had a right to insist
on a declaration of a belief in the Christian religion
from those who accepted offices, as offices were the
gift of the people, and not a matter of right \ still he
did not think the requisition absolutely necessary, or
essential, as the people were fully guarded in this re
spect by the very general belief in the Christian reli
gion in the cammunity.

36 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
' It is obvious,' said Mr. Webster, ' that the principal
alteration proposed by the first resolution, is the omission
of the declaration of belief in the Christian religion, as
a qualification for office, in the cases of the governor,
lieutenant-governor, counsellors, and members of the
Legislature. I shall content myself on this occasion with
stating, shortly and generally, the sentiments of the select
committee, as I understand them, on the subject of this
resolution. Two questions naturally present themselves.
In the first place, have the people a right if in their
judgment the security of their government and its due
administration demand it, to require a declaration of belief
in the Christian religion, as a qualification or condition
of office 1 On this question, a majority of the committee
held a decided opinion. They thought the people had
such a right. By the fundamental principle of popular
and elective governments, all office is in the free gift of
the people. They may grant, or they may withhold it
at pleasure ; and if it be for them, and them only, to
decide whether they will grant office, it is for them to
decide, also, on what terms, and with what conditions,
they will grant it. Nothing is more unfounded than the
notion that any man has a right to an office. This must
depend on the choice of others, and consequently upon
the opinions of others, in relation to his fitness and
qualification for office. No man can be said to have a
right to that, . which others may withhold from him at
pleasure. There are certain rights, no doubt, which the
whole people, or the government as representing the
whole people, owe to each individual, in return for that
obedience and personal service, and proportionate con
tributions to the public burdens, which each individual
owes to the government. These rights are stated with
sufficient accuracy, in the tenth article of the Bill of
Rights, in this constitution. " Each individual in so
ciety has a right to be protected by it in the enjoyment
of his life, liberty, and property, according to the stand
ing laws." Here is no right of office enumerated ; no
right of governing others, or of bearing rule in the State.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 37
AH bestowment of office remaining in the discretion of
the people, they have of course a right to regulate it, by
any rules which they may deem expedient. Hence the
people, by their constitution, prescribe certain qualifica
tions for office, respecting age, property, residence, &c.
But if office, merely as such, were a right, which each
individual under the social compact was entitled to
claim, all these qualifications would be indefensible.
The acknowledged rights are not subject, and ought not
to be subject, to any such limitation. The right of
being protected, in life, liberty, and estate, is due to all,
and cannot be justly denied to any, whatever be their
age, property, or residence in the State. These qualifi
cations, then, can only be made requisite as qualifica
tions for office, on the ground that office is not what any
man can demand, as matter of right, but rests in the
confidence and good will of those who are to bestow it.
In short, it seems to me too plain to be questioned, that
the right of office is a matter of discretion and option,
and can never be claimed by any man on the ground of
obligation. It would seem to follow, then, that those
who confer office may annex any such conditions to it as
they think proper. If they prefer one man to another,
they may act on that preference. If they regard certain
personal qualifications, they may act accordingly, and
ground of complaint is given to nobody. Between two
candidates, otherwise equally qualified, the people at
an election, may decide in favor of one because he is a
Christian, and against the other because he is not.
They may repeat this preference at the next election, on
the same ground, and may continue it from year to year.
Now, if the people may, without injustice, act upon this
preference, and from a sole regard to this qualification,
and refuse in any instance to depart from it, they have
an equally clear right to prescribe this qualification, be
forehand, as a rule for their future government. If they
may do it, they may agree to do it. If they deem it
necessary, they may so say, beforehand. If the public
will may require this qualification at every election as it
4

38 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
occurs, the public will may declare itself beforehand;
and make such qualification a standing requisite. That
cannot be an unjust rule, the compliance with which, in
every case, would be right. This qualification has noth
ing to do with any man's conscience. If he dislike the
condition, he may decline the office ; in like manner as
if he dislike the salary, the rank, or anything else which
the law attaches to it. However clear the right may be,
(and I can hardly suppose any gentleman will dispute it,)
the expediency of retaining the declaration is a more
difficult question. It is said not to be necessary, be
cause, in this Commonwealth, ninety-nine out of every
hundred of the inhabitants profess to believe in the
Christian religion. It is sufficiently certain, therefore,
that persons of this description, and none others, will
ordinarily be chosen to places of public trust. There is
as much security, it is said, on this subject, as the ne
cessity of the case requires. And as there is a sort of
opprobrium — a marking out, for observation and censo
rious remark, a single individual, or a very few individ
uals, who may not be able to make the declaration, — it is
an act, if not of injustice, yet of unkindness, and of un
necessary rigor, to call on such individuals to make the
declaration. There is also another class of objections,
which have been stated. It has been said, that there
are many very devout and serious persons — persons who
esteem the Christian religion to be above all price — to
whom, nevertheless, the terms of this declaration seem
somewhat too strong and intense. They seem, to these
persons, to require the declaration of that faith which is
deemed essential to personal salvation ; and, therefore,
not at all fit to be adopted, by those who profess a belief
in Christianity merely, in a more popular and general
sense. It certainly appears to me, that this is a mis
taken interpretation of the terms ; that they imply only
a general assent to the truth of the Christian revelation,
and, at most, to the supernatural occurrences which es
tablish its authenticity. There may, however, and there
appears to be, conscience in this objection ; and all con-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 39
science ought to be respected. I was not aware, before
I attended the discussions in the committee, of the
extent to which this objection prevailed. There is one
other consideration to which I will allude, although it
was not urged in committee. It is this. This qualifi
cation is made applicable only to the executive and the
members of the Legislature. It would not be easy, per
haps, to say why it should not be extended to the ju
diciary, if it were thought necessary for any office.
There can be no office in which the sense of religious
responsibility is more necessary, than in that of a judge ;
especially of those judges who pass, in the last resort,
on the lives, liberty and property of every man. There
may be among legislators, strong passions and bad pas
sions. There may be party heats and personal bitter
ness. But legislation is in its nature general : laws usu
ally affect the whole society ; and if mischievous or
unjust, the whole society is alarmed, and seeks their
repeal. The judiciary power, on the other hand, acts
directly on individuals. The injured may suffer, with
out sympathy or the hope of redress. The last hope of
the innocent, under accusation, and in distress, is in the
integrity of his judges. If this fail, all fails ; and there
is no remedy, on this side the bar of Heaven. Of all
places, therefore, there is none which so imperatively
demands, that he who occupies it should be under the
fear of God, and above all other fear, as the situation of
a judge. For these reasons, perhaps, it might be
thought, that the constitution has not gone far enough,
if the provisions already in it were deemed necessary to
the public security. I believe I have stated the sub
stance of the reasons which appeared to have weight
with the committee. For my own part, finding this
declaration in the constitution, and hearing of no prac
tical evil resulting from it, I should have been willing to
retain it, unless considerable objection had been ex
pressed to it. If others were satisfied with it I should
be. I do not consider it, however, essential to retain it,
as there is another part of the constitution which recog-

40 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
nises, in the fullest manner, the benefits which civil
society derives from those Christian institutions which
cherish piety, morality and religion. I am conscious,
that we should not strike out of tbe constitution all re
cognition of the Christian religion. I am desirous, in
so solemn a transaction as the establishment of a consti
tution, that we should keep in it an expression of our
respect and attachment to Christianity ; — not, indeed, to
any 6f its peculiar forms, but to its general principles.'
There was another impression, which had become
quite prevalent in the Convention, among many who
formerly were sturdy advocates for an opposite doc
trine — namely, that the Commonwealth's senators
should be based upon population, as well as the other
branch of the Legislature, and that districts should be
made upon this principle. Mr. Webster's argument on
this article was elaborate and powerful. He entered
into the great principles of checks and balances in a
political constitution. The argument was warmly op
posed by many who might be supposed to be interested
on his side of the question. This speech had a most
wonderful effect, and many of the members who had
been of a different opinion, declared that they were
convinced that he was right. In this argument he
brought the experience of all times to bear upon the
subject so fully and happily, that those who opposed
him still lost much of the zeal with which they had
supported the other side of the debate at the com
mencement ofit.
The third prominent speech in this Convention was
made upon ' a resolution to alter the Constitution so

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 41
that judicial officers shall be removable by the Gov
ernor and Council upon the address of two-thirds, in
stead of a majority, of each branch of the Legislature,
and that the Legislature have power to create a Su
preme Court of Equity and Court of Appeals.' The
remarks of Mr. Webster were so brief and so compact,
and yet so full of sound sense on these subjects, that an
extract from the speech would do him injustice, there
fore we give it entire.
1 Regrets are vain for what is past ; yet I hardly know
how it has been thought to be a regular course of pro
ceeding, to go into committee on this subject, before
taking up the several propositions which now await their
final readings on the President's table. The conse
quence is, that this question comes on by surprise. The
chairman of tbe select committee is not present ; many
ofthe most distinguished members ofthe convention are
personally so situated, as not to be willing to take part
in the debate, — and the first law officer of the govern
ment, a member of the committee, happens at this mo
ment to be in a place (the chair of the committee of the
whole) which deprives us of the benefit of his observa
tions. Under these circumstances, I had hoped the com
mittee would rise ; it has, however, been determined
otherwise, and I must therefore beg their indulgence
while I make a few observations.
' As the constitution now stands, all judges are liable
to be removed from office, by the Governor, with the con
sent of the council, on the address of the two houses of
the Legislature. It is not made necessary that the two
houses should give any reasons for their address, or that
the judge should have an opportunity to be heard. I
look upon this as against common right, as well as re
pugnant to the general principles of the Government.
The commission ofthe judge purports to be, on the face
4*

42 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
of it, during good behavior. He has an interest in his
office. To give an authority to the Legislature to deprive
him of this, without trial or accusation, is manifestly to
place the judges at the pleasure of the Legislature.
' The question is not what the Legislature probably will
do, but what they may do. If the judges, in fact, hold
their offices only so long as the Legislature see fit, then it
is vain and illusory to say that the judges are indepen
dent men, incapable of being influenced by hope or by
fear ; but the tenure of their office is not independent.
The general theory and principle of the Government is
broken in upon, by giving the Legislature this power.
The departments of Government are not equal, co-ordi
nate and independent, while one is thus at the mercy of
the others. What would be said of a proposition to
authorise the Governor or judges to remove a senator, or
member of the house of representatives from office 1 —
And yet, the general theory ofthe constitution is to make
the judges as independent as members of the Legislature.
I know not whether a greater improvement has been
made in government than to separate the judiciary from
the executive and legislative branches, and to provide for
the decision of private rights, in a manner, wholly unin
fluenced by reasons of state, or considerations of party or
of policy. It is the glory of the British constitution to
have led in the establishment of this most important prin
ciple. It did not exist in England before the revolution
of 1688, and its introduction has seemed to give a new
character to the tribunals. It is not necessary to state
the evils which had been experienced, in that country,
from dependent and time-serving judges. In matters of
mere propriety, in causes of no political or public bear
ing, they might perhaps be safely trusted ; but in greaf
questions concerning public liberty, or the rights of the
subject, they were, in too many cases, not fit to be
trusted at all. Who would now quote Scroggs, or Saun
ders, or Jeffries, on a question concerning the right of
the habeas corpus, or the right of suffrage, or the liberty
of the press, or any other subject closely connected with

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 43
political freedom 1 Yet on all these subjects, the senti
ments of the English judges since the revolution,— of
Somers, Holt, Jreby, Jekyl, &.c, are, in general, favor
able to civil liberty, and receive and deserve great atten
tion, whenever referred to. Indeed, Massachusetts her
self knows, by her own history, what is to be expected
from dependent judges. Her own charter was declared
forfeited, without a hearing, in a court where such judges
sat. ' When Charles the second, and his brother after him,
attempted the destruction of chartered rights, both in the
kingdom and out of it, the mode was by judgments ob
tained in the courts. It is well known, that after the
prosecution against the city of London was commenced,
and while it was pending, the judges were changed ; and
Saunders, who had been consulted on the occasion, and
had advised the proceeding on the part of the crown, was
made chief-justice for the very purpose of giving a judg
ment in favor of the crown ; his predecessor being re
moved to make room for him. Since the revolution of
1688, an entire new character has been given to English
judicature. The judges have been made independent,
and the benefit has been widely and deeply felt. A simi
lar improvement seems to have made its way into Scot
land. Before the union ofthe kingdoms, it cannot be
said that there was any judicial independence in Scot
land ; and the highest names in Scottish jurisprudence
have been charged with being under influences which
could not, in modern times, be endured. It is even said
that the practice of entails did not extensively exist in
Scotland till about the time of the reigns of the last
princes of the Stuart race, and was then introduced to
guard against unjust forfeitures. It is strange indeed,
that this should happen at so late a period, and that a
most unnatural and artificial state of property should be
owing to the fear of dependent judicatures. I might add
here, that the heritable jurisdictions, the greatest almost
of all evils, were not abolished in Scotland till about the
middle of the last century ; so slowly does improvement

44

LIFE OF WEBSTER.

make progress when opposed by ignorance, prejudice or
interest. ' In our own country, it was for years a topic of com
plaint, before the revolution, that justice was adminis
tered, in some of the colonies, by judges dependent on
the British crown. The Declaration of Independence
itself, puts forth this as a prominent grievance, among
those which justified the revolution. The British king,
it declares, "had made judges dependent on his own will
alone, for the tenure of their offices." It was therefore
to be expected, that in establishing their own govern
ments, this important point of the independence of the
judicial power would be regarded by the States. Some
of them have made greater, and others less provision on
this subject ; the more recent constitutions, I believe,
being generally framed with the most and best guards for
judicial independence.
' Those who oppose any additional security for the
tenure of judicial office, have pressed to know what evil
has been experienced — what injury has arisen from the
constitution as it is. Perhaps none ; — but if evils pro
bably may arise, the question is, whether the subject be
not so important as to render it prudent to guard against
that evil. If evil do arise, we may be sure it will be a
great evil ; if this power should happen to be abused, it
would be most mischievous in its consequences. It is
not a sufficient answer, to say that we have as yet felt no
inconvenience. We are bound to look to probable future
events. We have, too, the experience of other States.
Connecticut, having had judges appointed annually, from
the time of Charles the second, in the recent alteration
of her constitution, has provided, that hereafter they shall
hold their office during good behavior, subject to removal
on the address of two-thirds of each house of the Legisla
ture. Iu Pennsylvania, the judges may be removed,
" for any reasonable cause," on the address oi two-thirds
of the two houses. In some of the States, three-fourths
of each house is required. The new constitution of
Maine has a provision, with which I should be content ;

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 45
which is, that no judge shall be liable to be removed by
the Legislature till the matter of his accusation has been
made known to him, and he has had an opportunity of
being heard in his defence. This seems no more than
common justice ; and yet it is much greater than any
security which at present exists in the constitution of this
commonwealth. ' It will be found, if I mistake not, that there are not
more than two or three, out of all the States, which have
left the tenure of judicial office at the entire pleasure of
the Legislature. It cannot be denied, that one great
object of written constitutions is to keep the departments
of Government as distinct as possible ; and for this pur
pose to impose restraints. And it is equally true, that
there is no department on which it is more necessary to
impose restraints than the Legislature. The tendency of
things is almost always to augment the power of that
department, in its relation to the judiciary. The judi
ciary is composed of few persons, and those not such as
mix habitually in the pursuits and objects which most
engage public men. They are not, or never should be,
political men. They have often unpleasant duties to
perform, and their conduct is often liable to be canvassed
and censured, where their reasons for it are not known,
or cannot be understood. The Legislature holds the
public purse. It fixes the compensation of all other
departments : it applies, as well as raises, all revenue.
It is a numerous body, and necessarily carries along
with it a great force of public opinion. Its members are
public men, in constant coutact with one another, and
with their constituents. It would seem to be plain
enough, that, without constitutional provisions which
should be fixed and certain, such a department, in case
of excitement, would be able to encroach on the judi
ciary. Therefore is it, that a security of judicial indepen
dence becomes necessary ; and the question is, whether
that independence be at present sufficiently secured.
' The constitution being the supreme law, it follows of
course, that every act of the Legislature, contrary to that

46 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
law, must be void. But who shall decide this question 1
Shall the Legislature itself decide it 1 If so, then the
constitution ceases to be a legal and becomes only a
moral restraint on the Legislature. If they, and they
only, are to judge whether their acts be conformable to
the constitution, then the constitution is admonitory or
advisory only ; not legally binding ; because, if the con
struction of it rest wholly with them, their discretion, in
particular cases, may be in favor of very erroneous and
dangerous constructions. Hence the courts of law,
necessarily, when the case arises, must decide upon the
validity of particular acts. — These cases are rare, at least
in this Commonwealth ; but they would probably be less
so, if the power of the judiciary, in this respect, were
less respectable than it is.
' It is the theory and plan of the constitution to re
strain the Legislature, as well as other departments, and
to subject their acts to judicial decision, whenever it
appears that such acts infringe constitutional limits ; and
without this check, no certain limitation could exist on
the exercise of legislative power. The constitution, for
example, declares, that the Legislature shall not suspend
the benefit of the writ of habeas corpus, except under
certain limitations. If a law should happen to be passed
restraining personal liberty, and an individual, feeling
oppressed by it, should apply for his habeas corpus, must
not the judges decide what is the benefit of habeas cor
pus, intended by the constitution ; what it is to suspend
it, and whether the acts of the Legislature do, in the
given case, conform to the constitution ? All these
questions would of course arise. The judge is bound
by his oath to decide according to law. The constitu
tion is the supreme law. Any act of the Legislature,
therefore, inconsistent with that supreme law, must yield
to it i and any judge, seeing this inconsistency, and yet
giving effect to the law, would violate both his duty and
his oath. But it is evident that this power, to be useful,
must be lodged in independent hands. If the Legislature
may remove judges at pleasure, assigning no cause for

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 47
such removal, of course it is not to be expected that they
would often find decisions against the constitutionality of
their own acts. If the Legislature should, unhappily, be
in a temper to do a violent thing, it would probably take
care to see that the bench of justice was so constituted
as to agree with it in opinion.
' It is unpleasant to allude to other States for negative
examples ; yet, if any one were inclined to the inquiry,
it might be found, that cases had happened in which
laws, known to be at best very questionable as to their
consistency with the constitution, had been passed ; and
at the same session, effectual measures taken, under the
power of removal by address, to create a new bench.
Such a coincidence might be accidental ; but the hap
pening of such accidents often would destroy the balance
of free governments. The history of all the States, I
believe, shows the necessity of settled limits to legisla
tive power. There are reasons, entirely consistent with
upright and patriotic motives, which, nevertheless, evince
the danger of legislative encroachments. The subject is
fully treated by Mr. Madison, in some numbers of the
Federalist, which well deserve the consideration of the
convention. ' There is nothing, after all, so important to individ
uals as the upright administration of justice. This
comes home to every man ; life, liberty, reputation, prop
erty, all depend on this. No Government does its duty
to the people, which does not make ample and stable
provision for the exercise of this part of its powers. Nor
is it enough, that there are courts which will deal justly
vvith mere private questions. We look to the judicial
tribunal for protection against illegal or unconstitutional
acts, from whatever quarter they may proceed. The
courts of law, independent judges, and enlightened juries,
are citadels of popular liberty, as well as temples of pri
vate justice. The most essential rights connected with
political liberty, are there canvassed, discussed, and
maintained ; and if it should at any time so happen that
these rights should be invaded, there is no remedy but a

48 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
reliance on the courts, to protect and vindicate them.
There is danger, also, that legislative bodies will some
times pass laws interfering with other private rights,
besides those connected with political liberty. Individ
uals are too apt to apply to the legislative power to inter
fere with private cases, or private property ; and such
applications sometimes meet with favor and support.
There would be no security, if these interferences were
not subject to some subsequent constitutional revision,
where all parties could be heard, and justice adminis
tered according to standing laws.
' These considerations are among those which, in my
opinion, render an independent judiciary equally essen
tial to the preservation of private rights and public liberty.
I lament the necessity of deciding this question at the
present moment ; and should hope, if such immediate
decision were not demanded, that some modification of
this report might prove acceptable to the committee,
since, in my judgment, some provision, beyond what
exists in the present constitution, is necessary.'
While Mr. Webster was engaged in the arduous
duties ofthe Convention, he was called, by a voice he
could not resist, to again bring himself before the pub
lic. This call was from the Pilgrim Society, who
were to assemble at Plymouth to commemorate the
close of the second century, since the landing of their
forefathers, on the 22d of December, 1620 ; and to
usher in the third century with feelings elevated, but
chastened, and to pour out their hearts in gratitude for
the past, while their souls were lighted up with hopes
for future generations. The Society had existed for
many years, and several judicious sermons and orations
had been delivered before that body of men, who
wished to keep alive a just remembrance of their an-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 49
cestors ; hut never was the excitement among the sons
of the pilgrims so great as at this anniversary. Two
hundred years had passed away since the event they
celebrated, and time-honored monuments were scat
tered through the country. The nation was at peace
with all the world. The trees which the pilgrims once
planted had grown great and prolific, and their children
alone plucked the fruk. There was no spoiler in the
land, and all traces of a hostile foot were obliterated
from the soil of their birth-place. The scattered rem
nants of the red men were now regarded with com
passion, not with fear ; the aborigines had fallen like
autumnal leaves, and no second spring had renewed
them. The little cloud, which appeared two centuries
ago not bigger than a man's hand on the horizon, had
now spread over the whole hemisphere, to refresh the
country. The sufferings of tbe pilgrims could not now
he spared; no, not one of them, for they at this
period shone as gems in a martyr's crown. No ordi
nary voice could have sung the requium of two cen
turies ; no common hand could have written their
epitaphs ; and no prophet of partial inspiration could
have ventured upon the unborn ages, which crowded
on their souls.
The orator came to his task as one prepared, — as
¦one deeply read in the mouldering monuments of his
country's deeds. Their acts of peace and of war were
in his mind. Their sufferings and their triumphs were
all in the possession of his memory ; and all, all, were
5

50 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
embalmed in his affections. His audience were col
lected from all quarters, and prepared to hail him as a
seer, declaring the past and opening up the future.
That past was full of glories. The warrior might have
found in it lessons of heroic valor ; the philosopher, of
wisdom ; and the holy man, of piety. The orator had
no sectarian views to gratify, no cankering prejudices
to indulge, no fancied inferences to make from doubtful
records. He stood among them as an enlightened
statesman, a lover of his country, that had his whole
heart; a country, whose records he held as sacred,
whose hopes were connected with the best interests of
man. He was there, as every where else, a friend of
religion ; but not a religious partizan ; one who believes,
' that whatever disunites man from God, disunites man
from man.' ' Let us rejoice,' said the orator, ' that we
behold this day ; let us be thankful that we have lived
to see the bright and happy breaking of this auspicious
morn, which commences the third century of the his
tory of New England.' He summoned the highest
faculties of our nature to connect time and place, to
look before and after, and hold communion with our
ancestors and our posterity. He called up the genius
of the place to bring back and put before them the
mighty dead, whose graves had first consecrated the
soil with the hopes of the resurrection and the life to
come. He sketched the history of the wanderings of
the pilgrims with a master-hand, and pointed out the
difference between them and all other colonies of

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 51
ancient or modem tunes ; their steadfast adherence to
the best principles of civil and religious liberty ; their
commercial enterprizes ; their determined courage ;
and their hardy growth, were described with force and
elegance. The war of independence was remembered,
and the slave trade attacked, without fearing those who
might be offended. The religious character of our
fathers was incorporated in all they did, and all they
hoped ; and the remembrance of it breathes through
the whole of this speech.
There was one subject touched upon in Mr. Web
ster's speech, — the law of succession, — that should be
noticed, for it shows a deep knowledge of the effect
of our institutions ; and what he then hazarded as
a conjecture in regard to this law of succession in
France, has proved an overwhelming truth in a fifth
part of the time he allowed for the political effect it
has produced.
Before Mr. Webster took his seat in Congress, from
the district of Suffolk, in Massachusetts, the whole
American people, with a few exceptions, had espoused
the cause of the Greeks. The shrieks which arose
from the massacre of Scio had been wafted on every
wind, and pierced every heart. The interest was deep
and general. The classical man ran over the history
of that wonderful people ; their beautiful language, and
their rich and tasteful literature came all up fresh to
his recollections, and he was for repaying Greece the
immeasurable debt of ages. The alumni of all our

52 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
literary institutions, without an exception, were for
Greece. The female heart, ready for generous sym
pathies, caught the infection, and assembled in favor of
Greece. Societies were formed in every town and vil
lage to aid this brave people in their mighty struggle
for freedom. The holy man of the altar, not given to
enter into secular affairs, opened his sacred book, and
finding countless texts on which to hang a discourse in
favor of Christians in bondage, breathed air eloquence,
the possession of which was almost unknown to him
self, which opened the fountains of charity, and caused
them to flow like the roek of Horeb, with sweet and
divine waters. The generous, as usual, gave for the
suffering Greeks most bountifully ; the yoang child
who had no definite idea of duty on the- subject^ hear
ing the preacher say that the father of the little Greek
boy they had seen, died in- the awful fight, and that his
mother fell by the assassin's dagger, brought his all to
the contribution-box, and was happy when his shining
silver was gone, — all gone, — for such a purpose j and
the miser struggling between avarice and the sympathy
he felt for Greece, (and to him any generous sympathy
was new,) let fall for the Greek the bit of gold he had
held from every other eharity, as with the grasp of
death. This is no high-wrought tale ;¦ thousands and
tens of thousands can bear testimony to this statement,
for they have witnessed such scenes. This was not
all, — Christian spirits clad with gospel panoply came
forward with new-born zeal, and offered their services

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 53
as missionaries, agents, or anything else that would
benefit the cause. Youthful warriors, fed on the ali
ment of ancient patriotism, offered their services to gird
on then- sword, to ' sink or swim, live or die,' in the
cause of freedom and the cross. All hearts yearned
towards Greece, and every one wished her well, if he
did not express his wishes. Anacharsis was read with
new pleasure, and Mitford sought after with avidity,
and even Gillie's Greece, with all its dulness, was in
request from the libraries. However prudent the rulers
of the nation might have felt in regard to committing
themselves with the Greek revolution, the people had
no fastidious impressions upon this subject. They ex
pressed, as they always will, as long as they enjoy their
present blessings, their whole soul upon the occasion.
The tongue of the people may be considered as a
' chartered instrument,' it speaks right on, and is not
often muzzled nor tied. But even men in high places
were influenced by pubhc feeling, and Mr. Monroe in
his message to Congress, made mention of the strug
gles of Greece in favor of liberty. On this suggestion,
Mr. Webster brought forward a resolution for making
provision by law for defraying the expenses incident to
the appointment of an agent or commissioner to Greece,
whenever the president should deem it expedient to
make such an appointment.
These generous sentiments were all seen, known,
and felt by the speaker, as is proved by his short exor
dium. •5*

54 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
* I am afraid, Mr. Chairman, that, so far as my part iti
this discussion is concerned, those expectations which
the public excitement existing on the subject, and cer
tain associations easily suggested by it, have conspired
to raise, may be disappointed. An occasion which calls
the attention to a spot, so distinguished, so connected
with interesting recollections, as Greece, may naturally
create something of warmth and enthusiasm: In a grave,
political discussion, however, it i» necessary that that
feeling should be chastised. I shall endeavor properly
to repress it, although it is impossible that it should be
altogether extinguished. We must, indeed, fly beyond
the civilized world, we must pass the dominion of law,
and the boundaries of knowledge ; we must, more espe
cially, withdraw ourselves from this place, and the scenes
and objects which here surround us, if we would sepa
rate ourselves, entirely, from the influence of all those
memorials of herself which ancient Greece has transmit
ted for the admiration and the benefit of mankind. This
free form of government, this popular assembly, the com
mon council, held for the common good, where have we
contemplated its earliest models t This practice of free
debate, and pubhc discussion, the contest of mind with
mind, and that popular eloquence, which, if it were now
here, on a subject like this, would move the stones of the
capitol, — whose was the language in which all these
were first exhibited 1 Even the edifice in which we as
semble, these proportioned columns, this ornamented
architecture, all remind us that Greeee has existed, and
that we, like the rest of mankind, are greatly her debtors.
But I have not introduced this motion in the vain hope
of discharging anything of this accumulated debt of cen
turies. I have not acted upon the expectation, that we,
who have inherited this obligation from our ancestors,
should now attempt to pay it to those who may seem to
have inherited, from their ancestors, a right to receive
payment. My object is nearer and more immediate. I
wish to take occasion of the struggle of an interesting
and gallant people, in the cause of liberty and Chris-

LIFE OF WEBSTER.- 55
tianity, to draw the attention of the House to the circum
stances which have accompanied that struggle, and to
the principles which appear to have governed the con
duct of the great States of Europe in regard to it ; and
to the effects and consequences of these principles upon
the independence of nations, and especially upon the
institutions of free Governments. What I have to say of
Greece, therefore, concerns the modem, not the ancient J
the living, and not the dead. It regards her, not as she
exists in history, triumphant over time, and tyranny, and
ignorance ; but as she now is, contending, against fear
ful odds, for being, and for the common privilege of hu
man nature.'
He spends but little time on these things, however
congenial and lovely they may be to him. He stops
not to view the groves of the academy, the fountains of
inspiration, nor the mountains where rang the songs of
the never-dying Muse. Neither the wisdom of Soc
rates, nor the justice of the Areopagus, nor even the
eloquence of Pericles, or Demosthenes, detain him for
a moment. He weighs his own country in the balance
of political justice, and considers what she ought to do
in the cause of freedom and of man. He approves of
her peaceful policy, and at the same time of her inde
pendence in speaking her mind upon all questions hav
ing any bearing on the great principles on which her
government is founded. ' We are placed,' said he,
' by our good fortune, and the wisdom and valor of our
ancestors, in a condition in which we can act no obscure
part ; be it for honor, be it for dishonor, whatever we
do, is not likely to escape the observation of the world.'
The speaker boldly declares the nature of our Govern-

56 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
ment and delineates her peculiar features, and states
openly that she can take but one side in Such a contest,
without abandoning, which she is not likely to do, her
fundamental principles. He then brings up the Holy
Alliance, and shows beyond a question, that the prin
ciples laid down by them, as far as they were devel
oped, were not favorable to the rights of man. They
still held to the divine rights of kings, and all the alle
viation to be expected by the people must be consid
ered gifts from them, not the rightful claims of their
subjects. ' While the teachers of Laybach give the
rule, there will be no law but the law of the strongest.'
This law was promulgated to the world in a circular,
dated 1821. He inquires what interest we have in re
sisting the doctrines of the Holy Alliance.
' It may now be required of me to show what interest
we have, in resisting this new system. What is it to us,
it may be asked, upon what principles, or what pretences,
the European governments assert a right of interfering
in the affairs of their neighbors 1 The thunder, it
may be said, rolls at a distance. The wide Atlantic is
between us and danger ; and, however others may suf
fer, we shall remain safe.
' I think it a sufficient answer to this, to say, that we
are one of the nations ; that we have an interest, there
fore, in the preservation of that system of national law
and national intercourse, which has heretofore subsisted,
so beneficially for all. Our system of government, it
should also be remembered, is, throughout, founded on
principles utterly hostile to the new code ; and, if we re
main undisturbed by its operation, we shall owe our se
curity, either to our situation or our spirit. The enter
prising character of the age, our own active commercial

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 51
spirit, the great increase which has taken place in the
intercourse between civilized and commercial States,
have necessarily connected us with the nations of the
earth, and given us a high concern in the preservation of
those salutary principles, upon which that intercourse is
founded. We have as clear an interest in international
law, as individuals have in the laws of society.
' But, apart from the soundness of the policy, on the
ground of direct interest, we have, sir, a duty, connected
with this subject, which I trust we are willing to per
form. What do we not owe to the cause of civil and re
ligious liberty ? to the principle of lawful resistance 1 to
the principle that society has a right to partake in its
own government 1 As the leading republic of the world,
living and breathing in these principles, and advanced,
by their operation, with unequalled rapidity in our ca
reer, shall we give our consent to bring them into disre
pute and disgrace ? It is neither ostentation nor boasting
to say, that there lie before this country, in immediate
prospect, a great extent and height of power. We are
borne along towards this without effort, and not always
even with a full knowledge of the rapidity of our own
motion. Circumstances which never combined before,
have co-operated in our favor, and a mighty current is
setting us forward, which we could not resist, even if we
would, and which, while we would stop to make an ob
servation, and take the sun, has set us, at the end of the
operation, far in advance of the place where we com
menced it. Does it not become us, then, is it not a duty
imposed on us, to give our weight to the side of liberty
and justice — to let mankind know that we are not tired
of our own institutions — and to protest against the as--
serted power of altering, at pleasure, the law of the civil
ized world ?
' But, whatever we do, in this respect, it becomes us
to do upon clear and consistent principles. There is an
important topic in the Message, to which I have yet
hardly alluded. I mean the rumored combination of the
European continental sovereigns, against the new estab-

58 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
lished free States of South America. Whatever position
this Government may take on that subject, I trust it will
be one which can be defended, on known and acknowl
eged grounds of right. The near approach, or the re
mote distance of danger, may affect policy, but cannot
change principle. The same reason that would author
ise us to protest against unwarrantable combinations to
interfere between Spain and her former colonies, would
authorise us equally to protest, if the same combination
were directed against the smallest State in Europe, al
though our duty to ourselves, our policy, and wisdom,
might indicate very different courses, as fit to be pursued
by us in the two cases. We shall not, I trust, act upon
the notion of dividing the world with the Holy Alliance,
and complain of nothing done by them in their hemis
phere, if they will not interfere with ours. At least this
would not be such a course of policy as I could recom
mend or support. We have not offended, and, I hope,
we do not intend to offend, in regard to South America,
against any principle of national independence or of pub
lic law. We have done nothing, we shall do nothing,
that we need to hush up or to compromise, by forbearing
to express our sympathy for the cause of the Greeks, or
our opinion of the course which other Governments have
adopted in regard to them.'
The speaker gives a condensed account of the state
of Greece, as she then was in the early part of the late
struggle. The description is forcibly drawn, not col
ored by the imagination, or spread out into rhetorical
beauties for display. It is truth, such as is well under
stood by all men who think, and such as is or will be
felt by all nations who regard their own rights.
' I shall not detain the Committee, Sir, by laying be
fore it any statistical, geographical, or commercial ac
count of Greece. I have no knowledge on these subjects,

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 59
which is not common to all. It is universally admitted,
that, within the last thirty or forty years, the condition of
Greece has been greatly improved. Her marine is at
present respectable, containing the best sailors in the
Mediterranean, better even, in that sea, than our own,
as more accustomed to the long quarantines, and other
regulations which prevail in its ports. The number of
her seamen has been estimated as high as 50,000, but I
suppose that estimate must be much too large. They
have probably 150,000 tons of shipping. It is not easy
to state an accurate account of Grecian population. The
Turkish Government does not trouble itself with any of
the calculations of political economy, and there has never
been such a thing as an accurate census, probably, in
any part of the Turkish empire. In the absence of all
official information, private opinions widely differ. By
the tables which have been communicated, it would
seem that there are 2,400,000 Greeks in Greece proper
and the islands ; an amount, as I cm inclined to think,
somewhat overrated. There are, probably, in the whole
of European Turkey, 5,000,000 Greeks, and 2,000,000
more in the Asiatic dominions of that power. The moral
and intellectual progress of this numerous population,
under the horrible oppression which crushes it, has been
such as may well excite regard. Slaves, under barba
rous masters, the Greeks have still aspired after the
blessings of knowledge and civilisation. Before the
breaking out of the present revolution, they had estab
lished schools, and colleges, and libraries, and the press.
Wherever, as in Scio, owing to particular circumstances,
the weight of oppression was mitigated, the natural vi
vacity of the Greeks, and their aptitude for the arts, were
discovered. Though certainly not on an equality with
the civilised and Christian States of Europe, — and how is
it possible under such oppression as they endured that
they should be 1 they yet furnished a striking contrast
with their Tartar masters. It has been well said, that it
is not easy to form a just conception of the nature of the
despotism exercised over them. Conquest and subjuga-

6Q LIFE OF WEBSTER.
tion, as known among European States, are inadequate
modes of expression by which to denote the dominion of
the Turks. A conquest, in the civilised world, is gene
rally no more than an acquisition of a new dominion to
the conquering Gountry. It does not imply a never-end
ing bondage imposed upon the conquered, a perpetual
mark, and opprobrious distinction between them and
their masters ; a bitter and unending persecution of their
religion ; an habitual violation of their rights of person
and property, and the unrestrained indulgence towards
them, of every passion which belongs to the character of
a barbarous soldiery. Yet such is the state of Greece,
The Ottoman power over them, obtained originally by
the sword, is constantly preserved by the same means.
Wherever it exists, it is a mere military power. The
religious and civil code of the State, being both fixed in
the Alcoran, and equally the object of an ignorant and
furious faith, have been found equally incapable of
change. " The Turk," it has been said, " has been
encamped in Europe for four centuries." He has hardly
any more participation in European manners, knowledge,
and arts, than when he crossed the Bosphorus. But this
is not the worst of it. The power of the empire is
fallen into anarchy, and as the principle which belongs
to the head belongs also to the parts, there are as many
despots as there are pachas, beys, and visiers. Wars
are almost perpetual between the sultan and some re
bellious governor of a province ; and in the conflict of
these despotisms, the people are necessarily ground be
tween the upper and the nether millstone. In short, the
Christian subjects of the Sublime Porte, feel daily all the
miseries which flow from despotism, from anarchy, from
slavery, and from religious persecution. If anything yet
remains to heighten such a picture, let it be added, that
every office in the Government is not only actually, but
professedly venal ; — the pachalics, the visierites, the ca-
diships, and whatsoever other denomination may denote
tbe depositary of power. In the whole world, sir, there
is no such oppression felt, as by the Christian Greeks.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 61
In various parts of India, to be sure, the government is
bad enough ; but then it is the government of barbarians
over barbarians, and the feeling of oppression is, of
course, not so keen. There the oppressed are perhaps
not better than their oppressors; but in the case of
Greece, there are millions of Christian men, not without
knowledge, not without refinement, not without a strong
thirst for all the pleasures of civilised life, trampled into
the very earth, century after century, by a pillaging,
savage, relentless soldiery. Sir, the case is unique.
There exists, and has existed, nothing like it. The
world has no such misery to show ; there is no case in
which Christian communities can be called upon, with
such emphasis of appeal.'
Whoever reads the speech carefully, will find that it
contains a foil avowal of Mr. Webster's opinions on
our duties as a great republic, in all those important
questions which are now agitating the world. His
leading maxims are, — Watch all the movements of
nations ; examine their eonduct with impartiality and
justice ; speak of them with candor, but with freedom,
and prepare to act with magnanimity and good faith.
From the halls of Congress, Mr. Webster passes
with ease and dignity to any place or cause, when man
is to be roused, enlightened, or directed and pleased.
As our country increases in age and population, every
circumstance of our history becomes more a matter of
importance to us, and will be more regarded as we
journey onward in the career of national distinction.
The battle of Bunker Hill was, from the day it was
fought, a fond theme for our people to dwell upon. It
was the first fair test of national bravery in the revolu-
6

62 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
tionary contest ; the first regular battle in which Brit
ons and the sons of Britons met. It was strongly
marked with true national characteristics, and was the
most distinguished of our battles. A half century was
now closing on the nation since that memorable period.
The day could not pass unnoticed by those who valued
their birth-rights. The people of New-England had,
a short time before, formed a society, to be called The,
Bunker Hill Association, ' for the purpose of rearing
some honorable and durable monument to the memory
ofthe early friends of American Independence.' The
close of the fiftieth year was fixed upon to lay the
corner-stone of this monument. Mr. Webster was se
lected as the orator on this occasion by the directors
of the Association ; in fact, it was not their selection
alone, for the eyes of the whole people were turned
upon him as the man who was to speak to them of by
gone times, long before the directors had met to name
him. Great preparations 'Were made for the purpose
of commemorating the event, and of beginning the
monument, and the whole community, far and wide,
were invited to attend. The day previous, the me
tropolis of New-England was crowded to overflowing.
The morning sun of the 17th of June, 1825, rose as
lovely as on the day of his birth. The survivors of
the battle of the 17th of June, 1775, were invited by
the Legislature of Massachusetts, to attend the cere
monies at the expense ofthe Commonwealth. About
fifty of them were found among the living, able to

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 63
come ; these, with other revolutionary heroes, made
part of the wonders of the day. The days of their
deeds and their marchings had passed ; and they were
borne to the field in open carriages, as at an ovation in
triumphal cars. These cars were driven not by pro
fessional whips, but by young gentlemen who volun
teered their services for that honor. The effect was
scenic. These hoary-headed warriors seemed glorified
spectres from some field of battle, over which flowers
had grown, and harvests had been reaped, until the
memory of blood had been forgotten, and who had
come up to say, ' We have been sufficiently avenged ;
let harmony and peace prevail among men.'
One mass of people filled the streets in regular pro
cession for nearly two miles in extent. As they
passed, the houses were crowded with spectators.
Every resting-place, window, and battlement, were
full of youth and beauty, looking on ; delighted infancy
inquired what it all meant ; and the lack-lustre eye of
age was lighted up with new fires for that hour's gaze.
In this procession, which was made up of the valuable
portion of the land, — the virtuous, the conspicuous,
and the renowned, was Lafayette, then the nation's
guest ; he, too, had come to join in the patriotic com
memoration, — in the jubilee of liberty. The corner
stone now laid, the people being seated in the amphi
theatre which nature had prepared for them, and to
which art had only added a few benches ; after a
slight bustling for seats, all was still ; when a venerable

64 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
form arose* to implore the blessings of Heaven on the
day, the deed, and the orator. He, too, seemed to
have come from the dead. He was a being of another
age, at least. He had the snow of nearly fourscore
winters upon his head ; his voice, though changed,
was not broken by age ; he was heard and accom
panied by thousands in his devotions. There is some
thing indescribably venerable in a holy man, who has
long officiated at the altar of the Most High. There
was a divine glow in that age-stricken face that
showed, that the moral as well as national grandeur of
the scene was in bis mind ; and as he closed his
prayer with all honor and glory to God, his counte
nance unequivocally spoke the language of Simeon, of
old, ' Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for
mine eyes have seen thy salvation.'
The speaker next was seen ; all eyes were turned
upon him, and breathless attention was the signal for
his first accent. History has no parallel for this
scene. ' In the open air, exposed to sun and winds, stood an
orator ripe with the thoughts of manhood, before all the
impressions and the glow of early days had gone;
myriads of listeners were around him ; heroes were
clustering near him, among them the representatives of
other hemispheres ; holy men, who were just entering
eternity, were ready to implore a blessing, and depart ;
the bones of friends and enemies were shaking in their
graves beneath the feet of new and old generations, and
passing time was announcing that half a century had
* The Rev. Joseph Thaxter, of Edgarton.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 65
elapsed since the roar of battle had broke over the
sacred ground. The corner-stone of a time-defying
monument was then resting at his feet, and a hundred
thousand bosoms in his sight were swelling and heaving
with patriotism and republican pride. How sublime the
scene ! What a moment for " thoughts that breathe and
words that burn !" '
All were satisfied, — all delighted. Yet there was
nothing but good sense running through all he said ;
no artificial pauses were made to elicit the plaudits of
a larger audience than any orator in this country ever
before addressed He had studied no graceful ges
tures for the occasion. His voice was clear and pow
erful, and heard far beyond the usual compass of the
human voice. He spoke as he felt, with deliberate
energy of thought and word. His whole soul was in
that day's glory. Every topic that he touched was
directly applicable to his subject ; there were none of
the wanderings of genius in his speech ; all was com
pact, intense, and connected. The importance of the
institution, its great objects, and its harmony, with all
the feelings of patriotism were dwelt upon The prin
ciples ofthe Revolution received new interest from his
eloquence. The mighty dead of the Revolution were
eulogised, and the survivors addressed with affection
and reverence. They had never anticipated such a
day. Lafayette was fall of the ' grand spectacle,' and
declared, that he had never before beheld a concourse so
intelligent and so happy. Such impressions may slum
ber, but can never die. They will be called up by
6*

66 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
memory, and transmitted with fresh laurels to re
motest time.
Mr. Webster had not often made his appearance in
Faneuil Hall on those occasions, which call forth the
unpremeditated speeches of those who come to ani
mate the voters before the poles are opened. He had
not tried or wasted his strength on these useful, but
ephemeral efforts in the cause of every ordinary elec
tion. He admired the old cradle of liberty, but it was
the place for young men to try their oratorical powers,
and he had passed the period of all such struggles ;
yet, previous to the election of April, 1825, in that
State, when no small degree of confusion seemed to be
found in the ranks of his friends, he was induced to
come forward to say a few words in favor of union.
He was awkwardly situated ; some of his friends were
very urgent for him to appear, as he might do much
good in bringing about harmony. He received notes
from some other friends pressing him to be there with
out fail ; from others, again, urging him to stay at
home. One, couched in Calphurnia's words, ' Go not
forth to-day f and this from one, too, who loved him
well, and one who had as many fears for the loss of
his popularity as the fond wife had for Caesar's life ;
nevertheless, his popularity was not in quite so much
jeopardy as the great Roman's life. He did go forth,
and made a speech, which, if it did not unite all
parties, went no small way to accomplish it ; at all
events, it increased the public confidence in his politir

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 67
cal course. These sudden, occasional speeches, called
out by unforeseen circumstances, show a man's com
mon course of thinking, and his fitness for that debate,
which a statesman is often forced into without much
preparation. The topics he touched upon were well
chosen, and as one of those little gems of eloquence,
the speech is given : —
' Mr. Webster said, he was quite unaccustomed to ap
pear in that place ; having, on no occasion, addressed
his fellow citizens there, either to recommend or to op
pose the support of any candidates for public office. He
had long been of opinion, that to preserve the distinc
tion, and the hostility of political parties, was not con
sistent vvith the highest degree of public good. At the
same time he did not find fault with the conduct, nor
question the motives, of those who thought otherwise.
But, entertaining this opinion, he had abstained from at
tending on those occasions, in which the merits of pub-
lie men, and of candidates for office, were discussed,
necessarily, with more or less reference to party attach
ment, and party organization.
' The present was a different occasion. The senti
ment which had called this meeting together, was a
sentiment of union and conciliation ; a sentiment so
congenial to his own feelings, and to his opinion of the
public interest, that he could not resist the inclination to
be present, and to express his entire and hearty appro
bation. ' He should forbear, Mr. W. said, from all remarks
upon the particular names which had been recommended
by the committee. They had been selected, he must
presume, fairly, and with due consideration, by those
who were appointed for that purpose. In cases of this
sort every one cannot expect to find everything precisely
as he might wish it ; but those who concurred in the
genera] sentiment would naturally allow that sentiment
lo prevail, as far as possible, over particular objections.

68 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
' On the general question he would make a few re
marks, begging the indulgence of the meeting, if be
should say anything which might with more propriety
proceed from others.
' He hardly conceived how well disposed and intelli
gent minds could differ, as to the question, whether
party contest, and party strife, organized, systematic,
and continued, were of themselves desirable ingredients
in the composition of society. Difference of opinion, on
political subjects, honorable competition, and emulous
rivalry, may, indeed, be useful. But these are very
different things from organized and systematic party
combinations. He admitted, even, that party associa
tions were sometimes unavoidable, and perhaps neces
sary, to the accomplishment of other ends and purposes.
But this did not prove that, of themselves, they were
good ; or that they should be continued and preserved
for their own sake, when there had ceased to be anj
object to be effected by them.
' But there were those who supposed, that whether po
litical party distinctions were, or were not, useful, it was
impossible to abolish them. Now he thought, on the
contrary, that under present circumstances, it was quite
impossible to continue them. New parties, indeed,
might arise, growing out of new events, or new ques
tions ; but as to those old parties, which had sprung
from controversies now no longer pending, or from feel
ings, which time and other causes had now changed, or
greatly allayed, he did not believe that they could long
remain. Efforts, indeed, made to that end, with zeal
and perseverance, might delay their extinction, but, he
thought, could not prevent it. There was nothing to
keep alive these distinctions, in the interests and objects
which now engage society. New questions and new
objects arise, having no connexion with the subjects of
past controversies, and present interest overcomes or
absorbs the recollection of former controversies. All
that are united on these existing questions, and present
interests, are not likely to weaken their efforts to pro-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 69
mote them by angry reflections on past differences. If
there were nothing, in things, to divide about, he
thought the people not likely to maintain systematic con
troversies about men. They have no interest in so
doing. Associations formed to support principles, may
be called parties ; but if they have no bond of union but
adherence to particular men they become factions.
' The people, in his opinion, were at present grateful to
all parties, for whatever of good they had accomplished,
and indulgent to all for whatever of error they had
committed ; and, with these feelings, were now mainly
intent on the great objects which affected their present
interests. There might be exceptions to this remark ;
he was afraid there were ; but, nevertheless, such ap
peared to him to be the general feeling in the country.
It was natural that some prejudices should remain longer
than their causes, as the waves lash the shore, for a
time, after the storm has subsided ; but the tendency of
the elements was to repose. Monopolies of all sorts
were getting out of fashion, they were yielding to liberal
ideas, and to the obvious justice and expediency of fair
competition. ' An administration of the general government, which
had been, in general, highly satisfactory to the country,
had now closed. He was not aware that it could with
propriety be said that that administration had been
either supported, or opposed by any party associations,
or on any party principles. Certain it was, that as far
as there had been any organized opposition to the ad
ministration, it had had nothing to do with former
parties. A new administration had now commenced,
and he need hardly say that the most liberal and concili
atory principles had been avowed. It could not be
doubted, that it would conform to those principles.
Thus far, he believed, its course had given general sat
isfaction. After what they all had seen, in relation to
the gentlemen holding the highest appointment in the
Executive Department, under the President, he would
take this opportunity to say, that having been a member

70 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
of the House of Representatives for six years, during the
far greater part of which time Mr. Clay had presided in
that House, he was most happy in being able, in a
manner less formal than by concurring in the usual vote
of thanks, to express his own opinion of his liberality,
independence, and honorable feeling. And he would
take this occasion also, to add, if his opinion could be of
any value in such a case, that he thought nothing more
unfounded than that that gentleman owed his present
situation to any unworthy compromise or arrangement
whatever. He owed it to his talent, to his prominent
standing in the community, to his course of public ser
vice, not now a short one, and to the high estimation in
which he stands with that part of the country to which
he belongs.
' Remarks, Mr. Webster proceeded to say, had been
made from the chair, very kind and partial, as to the
manner in which he had discharged the duties which he
owed to his constituents, in the House of Representa
tives. He wished to say, that if he had been able to
render any, the humblest services, either to the public
or his constituents, in that place, it was owing wholly to
the liberal manner in which his efforts there had been
received. ' Having alluded to the Inaugural Address, he did not
mean, in the slightest degree, to detract from its merits,
when he now said, that in his opinion, if either ofthe
other candidates had succeeded in the election, he also
would have adopted a liberal course of policy. He had
no reason to believe that the sentiments of either of
those gentlemen were, in this respect, narrow or con
tracted. He fully believed the contrary, in regard to
both of them ; but if they had been otherwise, he thought
still, that expediency or necessity, would have controlled
their inclinations.
' 1 forbear, said Mr. W., from pursuing these remarks
farther. I repeat, that I do not complain of those who
have hitherto thought, or who still think, that party or
ganization is necessary to the public good. I do not

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 71
question their motives ; and I wish to be tolerant even
to those who think that toleration ought not to be in
dulged. ' It is said, sir, that prosperity sometimes hardens the
heart. Perhaps, also, it may sometimes have a contrary
effect, and elevate and liberalize the feelings. If this
can ever be the result of such a cause, there is cer
tainly in the present condition of the country enough
to inspire the most grateful and the kindest feelings.
We have a common stock both of happiness and of
distinction, of which we are all entitled as citizens of the
country to partake. We may all rejoice in the general
prosperity, in the peace and security which we enjoy,
and in the brilliant success which has thus far attended
our republican institutions. These are circumstances,
which may well excite in us all a noble pride. Our
civil and political institutions, while they answer for us
all the great ends designed by them, furnish at the same
time an example to others, and diffuse blessings beyond
our own limits. In whatever part of the globe men are
found contending for political liberty, they look to the
United States with a feeling of brotherhood, and put
forth a claim of kindred. The South American States,
especially, exhibit a most interesting spectacle. Let the
great men who formed our constitutions of government,
who still survive, and let the children of those who have
gone to their graves console themselves with the reflec
tion, that whether they have risen or fallen in the little
contests of party, they have not only established the
liberty and happiness of their own native land, but have
conferred blessings beyond their own country, and be
yond their own thoughts, on millions of men, and on
successions of generations. Under the influence of
these institutions, received and adopted in principle,
from our example, the whole southern continent has
shaken off its colonial subjection. A new world, filled
with fresh and interesting nations, has risen to our sight.
America seems again discovered ; not to geography, but
to commerce, to social intercourse, to intelligence, to

72 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
civilization, and to liberty. Fifty years ago, some of
those who now hear me, and the fathers of many others,
listened in this place, to those mighty masters, Otis and
Adams. When they then uttered the spirit-stirring
sounds of Independence and Liberty, there was not a
foot of land on the continent inhabited by civilized man,
that did not acknowledge the dominion of European
power. Thank God, at this moment, from us to the
south pole, and from sea to sea, there is hardly a foot
that does.
' And, sir, when these States, thus newly disenthralled
and emancipated, assume the tone, and bear the port of
independence, what language, and what ideas do we
find associated, with their new acquired liberty ? They
speak, sir, of Constitutions, of Declarations of Rights, of
the Liberty of the Press, of a Congress, and of Repre
sentative Government. Where, sir, did they learn
these 1 And when they have applied to their great
leader, and the founder of their States, the language of
praise and commendation, till they have exhausted it, —
when unsatisfied gratitude can express itself no other
wise, do they not call him their Washington ? Sir, the
Spirit of Continental Independence, the Genius of Amer
ican Liberty, which in earlier times tried her infant
voice in the halls and on the hills of New England,
utters it now, with power that seems to wake the dead,
on the plains of Mexico, and along the sides of the
Andes. " Her path, where'er the Goddess roves,
Glory pursues, and generous shame,
The unconquerable miud, and Freedom's holy flame."
' There is one other point of view, sir, in regard to
which I will say a few words, though, perhaps, at some
hazard of misinterpretation.
' In the wonderful spirit of improvement and enter
prise which animates the country, we may be assured
that each quarter will naturally exert its power in favor
of objects in which it is interested. This is natural and

LIFE OF WEBSTER 73
unavoidable. Each portion, therefore, will use its best
means. If the West feels a strong interest in clearing
the navigation of its mighty streams, and opening roads
through its vast forests ; if the South is equally zealous
to push the production and augment the prices of its
great staples, it is reasonable to expect, that these objects
will be pursued by the best means which offer. And it
may, therefore, well deserve consideration, whether the
commercial, and navigating, and manufacturing interests
of the North do not call on us to aid and support
them, by united counsels, and united efforts. But I
abstain from enlarging on this topic. Let me rather say,
sir, that in regard to the whole country, a new era has
arisen. In a time of peace, the proper pursuits of peace
engage society with a degree of enterprise, and an in-
tenseness of application, heretofore unknown. New
objects are opening, and new resources developed on
every side. We tread on a broader theatre ; and if
instead of acting our parts, according to the novelty and
importance of the scene, we waste our strength in
mutual crimination and recrimination about the past, we
shall resemble those navigators, who having escaped
from some crooked and narrow river to the sea, now
that the whole ocean is before them, should, neverthe
less, occupy themselves with the differences which hap
pened as they passed along among the rocks and the
shallows, instead of opening their eyes to the wide hori
zon around them, spreading their sail to the propitious
gale that woos it, raising their quadrant to the sun, and
grasping the helm, with the conscious hand of a master.
The inhabitants of Boston, not satisfied with the
labors Mr. Webster had already performed for the in
struction and gratification of the public, claimed his
services again, as a eulogist on Adams and Jefferson,
after their extraordinary exit from this life, on the 4th
of July, 1826. It was not strange that old men should
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74 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
die. Nature required the repose of the grave after
such active and eventful lives. The country was
daily expecting to hear that they were sinking into the
tomb. They had filled up a great measure of duty ;
but that it should be so decreed that both should be
called to another world on the nation's political birth
day — called as it were by the same angel of death on
the same errand to this world, was most wonderful:
At this event the nation felt but one sentiment — of
respect and affection ; and if the expression may be
allowed, but one heart-swelling emotion of wonder,
admiration, and satisfaction, that they had gone together
from this world of care and anxiety. Orations, ser
mons, elegies and speeches, were made from one end of
the country to the other. Party spirit was sacrificed, at
once, at the shrine of patriotism ; and men of all political
creeds vied with each other in commemorating the
talents, services, and virtues of each. The failings
of both were forgotten, and their deeds were brought
forward side by side, and commented upon, as they
will be when a century has passed over us as a nation.
There was none of that weakness in this, which is often
discovered in epitaphs or obituaries from admiring
friendship, or relenting enmity. The head, as well as
the heart, was concerned in the feelings and proceedings
of the people. Boston is never behind her sister cities
in celebrating any joyous event, or in commemorating
anything national, or glorious, or in paying honors to
the illustrious dead. The mayor and aldermen ap-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 75
pointed the second day of August following the fourth
of July 1826, to notice the death of these distinguished
statesmen. This day was fixed upon because on it,
following the fourth of July, 1776, the members ofthe
Continental Congress, who, from absence or other
causes had not put their names to the immortal instru
ment, the Declaration of Independence, now as
sembled to put the finishing hand to it. On this occa
sion, the good people of Boston were more than usually
enthusiastic, if that were possible, and felt a determina
tion to show their respect for the illustrious dead, with
no ordinary demonstrations of funeral insignia. Faneuil
Hall was shrouded in mourning — the business of the
city was suspended ; the colors of the shipping were
hoisted half mast, and the bells tolled a solemn peal at
appointed hours of the day. Several hours before the
ceremonies commenced, the immense galleries of the
old cradle of liberty were crowded with ladies, waiting
for the orator to appear. The procession was formed
at the State House, nearly half a mile from the Hall ;
and consisted of a very great number of the most re
spectable inhabitants of the metropolis ; not more than
a tenth of whom could expect to find accommodation
for hearing the oration. As the procession passed, the
windows and balconies were crowded with citizens with
solemn faces, anxious to witness any portion of the
honors the people were paying to the mighty dead.
The deceased patriots had lived to
' Read their history in a nation's eyes ;'

76 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
and now that nation, in this, and in other cities
was putting tbe seal upon their fame by those funeral
rites which are performed by the people only for those
they loved. The body of Trajan was not so much the
object of solemn curiosity as was Pliny's eulogy, in the
Senate, upon the virtues of the great Roman. In joy
and in grief, there often is a feeling so intense that the
mind cannot find repose until the heart has discharged
itself in words. Every one was so desirous of getting a
look at the speaker, that the populace crowded upon one
another to the great danger of life, or limbs. Men,
who were accustomed to see the orator almost daily,
were just as eager to catch a glimpse of him as if they
now beheld him for the first time. Men love to take
their eyes from wandering over the wide expanse that
heaven has suffered us to view, and direct them to one
object, if such an object is capable of filling, the mind.
As the crowd thickened and the difficulties of a clear
view increased, the exertions to see became more fierce.
Many partook of the enthusiasm, who never could give
a reason for it. The world has not much changed from
its earliest ages. What Rome felt when her great
ruler died, other cities feel now at the exit of their great
men ; and the same anxiety to see and hear those who.
praise them still continues ; * 1 have, seen
The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind
To hear him speak : the matrons flung their glovess
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs,
Upon him as he passed : The nobles bended,

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 77
As to Jove's statue ; and the commons made
A shower and thunder, with their caps and shouts :
I never saw the like.' Coriolanus.
The subject was one abounding in incident and full
of interest. It stretched through a long measure of
history, and was connected with the minute and the
general affairs of the Republic. To do justice to the
lives of both and to their country, during this period,
would require numerous volumes of biography and
history. The task was to condense this mass of matter
to the compass of a two hours' speech. The bio
graphical sketches ofthe two great patriots are graphic,
spirited, succinct, and stamped with the strictest ad
herence to plain matter of fact.
Many of the orators and statesmen of the present
day in our country affect to think but little of classical
learning, and, relying on natural talents, most egre-
giously underrate the influences and the value of
letters. This, however, is owing to their ignorance of
the treasures of antiquity. It is natural, for who can
estimate properly what he does not, in the slightest
degree, understand ? Mr. Webster has given us his own
view of the subject in this oration ; and this is one on
which he should be heard, in particular, for his has
been a business rather than a classical life ; and he can
justly appreciate the effect of any portion of clarsical
literature. ' Literature sometimss, and pretensions to it much
oftener, disgusts, by appearing to hang loosely on the
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78 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
character, like something foreign or extraneous, not a
part, but an ill-adjusted appendage ; or by seeming to
overload and weigh it down, by its unsightly bulk, like
the productions of bad taste in architecture, where there
is massy and cumbrous ornament, without strength or
solidity of column. This has exposed learning, and
especially classical learning, to reproach. Men have
seen that it might exist, without mental superiority,
without vigor, without good taste, and without utility.
But, in such cases, classical learning has only not in
spired natural talent ; or, at most, it has but made
original feebleness of intellect, and natural bluntness of
perception, something more conspicuous. The question,
after all, if it be a question, is, whether literature, ancient
as well as modern, does not assist a good understanding,
improve natural good taste, add polished armor to native
strength, and render its possessor, not only more capable
of deriving private happiness from contemplation and
reflection, but more accomplished, also, for action, in
the affairs of life, and especially for public action. Those
whose memories we now honor, were learned men ;
but their learning was kept in its proper place, and made
subservient to the uses and objects of life. They were
scholars not common, nor superficial ; but their scholar
ship was so in keeping with their character, so blended
and inwrought, that careless observers, or bad judges,
not seeing an ostentatious display of it, might infer that
it did not exist ; forgetting, or not knowing, that classical
learning, in men who act in conspicuous public stations,
perform duties which exercise the faculty of writing, or
address popular, deliberative, or judicial bodies, is often
felt, where it is little seen, and sometimes felt more ef
fectually, because it is not seen at all.'
Among the gifts which Mr. Adams had from nature,
and which were cultivated by close application to
studies and duties was that of a strong voice and a
most powerful imagination, united to a retentive mem-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 79
ory, which are among the principal ingredients in
making an orator. His eloquence was admired in his
day, as fall of strength, nature, fire, and classical learn
ing. He came upon the question with all the energy
of his feelings ; he turned it to every light, and probed
it to the very quick. He was well grounded in rheto
ric, but made no display of his art ; he pounced upon
his subject with strength and spirit, regardless of the
graces he might, or might not, exhibit in his perform
ance. Mr. Webster has given us the characteristics of
Mr. Adams's eloquence.
' The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general
character, and formed, indeed, a part ofit. It was bold,
manly, and energetic ; and such the crisis required.
When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous
occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong
passions excited, nothing is valuable, in speech, farther
than it is connected with high intellectual and moral en
dowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness are the
qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence,
indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought
from far. Labor and learning may toil fbr it, but they
will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled
in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist
in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected
passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all
may aspire after it — they cannot reach it. It comes, if
it comes at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from
the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with
spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught
in the schools, the costly ornaments, and studied con
trivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their
own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and
their country, hang on the decision of the hour. Then
words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all

80 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then
feels rebuked, and subdued, as in the presence of higher
qualities. Then, patriotism is eloquent ; then, self-devo
tion is eloquent. The clear conception, outrunning the
deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve,
the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming
from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the
whole man onward, right onward to his object — this, this
is eloquence ; or rather it is something greater and higher
than all eloquence, it is action, noble, sublime, godlike
action.' The declining years of Mr. Jefferson are faithfully
and beautifully drawn, exhibiting the composure of
wisdom and the serenity of moral courage. The old
age of most men is querulous and feeble : they are
distressed to think life has passed on so far, and that
they have so short a time to finish up the business of
it. Mr. Jefferson seemed to wait with patience, and
was ready to obey the summons for his departure —
watching the last rays of his setting sun as one wishing
for rest after the toils and fatigues of the day ; that rest
had come, and the orator had in charge his fame.
' Both Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson had the pleasure
of knowing that the respect, which they so largely re
ceived, was not paid to their official stations. They were
not men made great by office ; but great men, on whom
the country for its own benefit had conferred office.
There was that in them, which office did not give, and
which the relinquishment of office did not, and could not,
take away. In their retirement, in the midst of their
fellow-citizens, themselves private citizens, they enjoyed
as high regard and esteem, as when filling the most im
portant places of public trust.
' There remained to Mr. Jefferson yet one other work

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 81
of patriotism and beneficence, the establishment of a
university in his native State. To this object he devoted
years of incessant and anxious attention, and by the
enlightened liberality of the legislature of Virginia, and
the co-operation of other able and zealous friends, he
lived to see it accomplished. May all success attend
this infant seminary ; and may those who enjoy its
advantages, as often as their eyes shall rest on the neigh
boring height, recollect what they owe to their disinter
ested and indefatigable benefactor ; and may letters
honor him who thus labored in the cause of letters
' Thus useful, and thus respected, passed the old age
of Thomas Jefferson. But time was on its ever-ceaseless
wing, and was now bringing the last hour of this illus
trious man. He saw its approach, with undisturbed
serenity. He counted the moments, as they passed, and
beheld that his last sands were falling. That day, too,
was at hand, which he had helped to make immortal.
One wish, one hope — if it were not presumptuous — beat
in his fainting breast. Could it be so — might it please
God — he would desire — once more — to see the sun —
once more to look abroad on the scene around him, on
the great day of liberty. Heaven, in its mercy, fulfilled
that prayer. He saw that sun — he enjoyed its sacred
light — he thanked God for his mercy, and bowed his
aged head to the grave. " Felix, non vitm tantum clari-
tate, sed etiam opportunitate mortis." '
In 1821 Mr. Webster was engaged in a cause of no
small importance before the High Court of Impeachment
in Massachusetts. It was a trial which called up strong
feelings in the community, and attracted much attention
throughout the Commonwealth : James Prescott, a
Judge of Probate of Wills, &c. &tc. for the county of
Middlesex, in that Commonwealth, was charged by
the House of Representatives, acting as a grand inquest

82 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
Under the Constitution, with misconduct and malad
ministration in his office, inasmuch as he had held
Probate Courts at other times than those authorised
by law ; and for demanding and taking illegal fees and
acting as Counsel, and for receiving fees in cases pend
ing in his own Court before him as judge. Prescott
had long been considered a man of talents and integrity,
and a most excellent Judge of Probate : his decisions
had been held in great respect. In some instances he
had found the law silent or vague, and uncertain upon
many points. No small part of his course had been
founded upon ancient usages ; and when new cases
arose, he, as was customary in the preceding ages,
legislated a little for himself. This was thought no
harm. He had proceeded in this course for sixteen
years, and no one complained except the lawyers, who
lost counsel fees by it. The judge had a little tinge of
avarice in his composition, and some share of obstinacy,
but no one thought him dishonest, or capable of acting
corruptly. In an evil hour, a vindictive neighbor,
offended by some cause not arising in the Court of
Probate, entered his complaint upon some State allega
tions to the House of Representatives, on which the
House thought it a duty to frame articles of impeach
ment, and therefore appointed managers to prosecute
them to final judgment before the Senate, as the High
Court of Impeachment. These managers were six of
the most learned and eloquent members of the House,
who discharged their duty with great ability. Mr. Web

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 83
ster, Mr. Blake, and Mr. Hoar, were of Counsel for
the respondent. The defence was opened by the latter
gentleman, in a sound and able argument, and closed
by Mr. Webster. If acting out of the letter of the
statute was wrong, the judge was culpable ; but in his
defence it was argued that in the alleged cases, the
statute was silent, and in no case had he violated any
clause of it ; and that he had used a fair discretion in
holding courts other than those fixed by law, and on
occasions of emergency only. The practice was com
mon in almost every county in the Commonwealth ;
but this, it was contended by the managers, could not
avail if proved, as a common error could not establish
a right ; but it certainly went far to show that there
was no corruption. The taking of fees for advice, it
was urged in the defence was not corrupt, for that this
advice given was always judicious and saved expense
of litigation, and assisted executors or administrators in
the prompt discharge of their duties. The managers
thought, that if evils had crept into this court, it was
high time they were corrected, and this was a proper
occasion to make the correction. Mr. Webster put
forth his great strength in behalf of his client, and sel
dom was it more conspicuous. He felt that if his client
had, in some instances acted imprudently, that he had
not acted corruptly, and he breasted the arguments
of the managers most strenuously. He went deeply
into the origin of these courts for the probate of wills,
and showed most clearly all the ancient usages in the

84 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
ecclesiastical courts on which our probate courts
were founded. The senate chamber was crowded,
for a deep interest was excited : the advocate was more
than usually earnest ; in fact, he showed most evidently
a great anxiety on the subject. His arguments seemed
to sweep along like the billows of the ocean ; his voice
became deep-toned, and now and then almost terrific.
He seemed to have a presage of the opinion of the
majority of the judges, and he continued to strive with
might and main to bring his client off safe. His speech,
towards the close, became truly impassioned and sub
lime. There was a deep feeling in his bursts of elo
quence that agitated even those long accustomed to
hear his fairest efforts ; they saw his whole soul was in
the cause, and the audience followed him without hold
ing back a jot, — they crowded closer and closer to him
as he advanced in his argument ; and even envy owned
that the struggle was gigantic. The close of the speech
has come to us in a tamer form than that hi which it
was delivered ; but as we have it in print, it is one of
his most impassioned specimens of forensic eloquence.
The reader shall judge for himself.
' I now beg leave to call the attention of the Court to
one or two considerations of a general nature, and which
appear to me to have an important bearing on the merits
of this whole cause. The first is this, that from the day
when the respondent was appointed Judge of Probate,
down to the period at which these articles of impeach
ment close — from the year 1805 to 1821 — there is not
a single case, with the exception of that alleged by Ware,
in which it is even pretended that any secrecy was de-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 85
signed or attempted by the Respondent : there is not a
single case, in which he is even accused of having wished
to keep anything out of sight, or to conceal any fact in
his administration, any charge which he had made, or
any fee which he had taken. The evidence, on which
you are to judge him, is evidence furnished by himself ;
and instead of being obliged to seek for testimony in
sources beyond the Respondent's control, it is his own
avowed actions, his public administration, and the rec
ords of his office, which the Managers of the prosecution
alone have been able to produce. And yet he is charged
with having acted wilfully and corruptly ; as if it were
possible that a magistrate, in a high and responsible sta
tion, with the eyes of the community upon him, should,
for near twenty years, pursue a course of corrupt and
wilful maladministration, of which every act and every
instance was formally and publicly put on record by
himself, and laid open in the face of the community. Is
this agreeable to the laws of human nature 1 Why, sir,
if the Respondent has so long been pursuing a course of
conscious, and wilful, and corrupt maladministration,
why do we discover none of the usual and natural traces
of such a course — some attempt at concealment, some
effort at secrecy ; and in all the numberless cases, in
which he had opportunity and temptation, why is not
even a suspicion thrown out, that he has attempted to
draw a veil of privaey over his alleged extortions ? — Is it
in reason that you should be obliged to go to his own
records for the proof of his pretended crimes 1 And can
you, with even the color of probability, appeal to a course
of actions unsuspiciously performed in the face of Heaven,
to support an accusation of offences in their very nature
private, concealed, and hidden 1
' Another consideration of a general nature to which
I earnestly ask the attention of this Hon. Court, is this,
that after all these accusations, which have been brought
together against the Respondent, in all these articles of
impeachment, and with all the industry and zeal, with
which the matter of them has been furnished to the Hon.
8

86 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
Managers, he is not accused nor was suspected of the
crime, most likely to bring an unjust judge to the bar of
this Court. Show me the unjust judgment he has ren
dered, the illegal order he has given, the corrupt decree
he has uttered, the act of oppression he has committed.
What, sir, a magistrate, charged vvith a long and delib
erate perseverance in wilful and corrupt administration,
accused of extortion, thought capable of accepting the
miserable bribe of a few cents or a few dollars, for illegal
and unconstitutional acts — and that, too, in an office,
presenting every day the most abundant opportunities,
and if the Respondent were of the character pretended,
the most irresistible temptation to acts of lucrative injus
tice ; and yet, not one instance of a corrupt, illegal, or
oppressive judgment ! I do ask the permission of this
Hon. Court and of every member of it, to put this to his
own conscience. I will ask him, if he can now name a
more able and upright magistrate, as shown in all his
proceedings and judgments, in all the offices of probate
in the State 1 One whose records are more regularly
and properly kept, whose administration is more prompt,
correct, and legal, — whose competency to the duties is
more complete, whose discharge of them is more punc
tual 1 I put this earnestly, sir, to the conscience of every
member of this Hon. Court. I appeal more especially
to my honorable friend, (Mr. Fay) intrusted with a
share of the management of this prosecution, and who
has been for twenty years an inhabitant of the county of
Middlesex. I will appeal to him, sir, and I will ask
him, whether if he knew that this night his wife should
be left husbandless and his children fatherless, there is a
magistrate in the State, in whose protection he had
rather they should be left, than in that of the Respon
dent ? Forgetting, for a moment, that he is a prosecutor,
and remembering only that he is a citizen of the same
county, a member of the same profession, with an ac
quaintance of twenty years standing, I ask him if he will
say that he believes there is a county in the State, in
which the office of Judge of Probate has been better

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 87
administered for twenty years, than it has been in the
county of Middlesex by this Respondent. And yet, sir,
you are asked to disgrace him. You are asked to fix on
him the stigma of a corrupt and unjust judge, and con
demn him to wear it through life.
' Mr. President, the case is closed ! The fate of the
Respondent is in your hands. It is for you now to say,
whether, from the law and the facts as they have ap
peared before you, you will proceed to disgrace and dis
franchise him. If your duty calls on you to convict him,
convict him, and let justice be done ! but I adjure you
let it he a clear undoubted case. Let it be so for his
sake, for you are robbing him of that, for which with all
your high powers, you can yield him no compensation ;
let it be so for your own sakes, for the responsibility of
this day's judgment is one, which you must carry with
you through your life. For myself, I am willing here to
relinquish the character of an advocate, and to express
opinions by which I am willing to be bound, as a citizen
of the community. And I say upon my honor and con
science, that I see not how, with the law and constitu
tion for your guides, you can pronounce the Respondent
guilty. I declare, that I have seen no case of wilful and
corrupt official misconduct, set forth according to the
requisition of the constitution, and proved according to
the common rules of evidence. I see many things im
prudent and ill judged ; many things that I could wish
had been otherwise ; but corruption and crime I do not
see. Sir, the prejudices of the day will soon be for
gotten ; the passions, if any there be, which have ex
cited or favored this prosecution, will subside ; but the
consequence of the judgment you are about to render
will outlive both them and you. The Respondent is now
brought, a single unprotected individual, to this formid
able bar of judgment, to stand against the power and
authority of the State. I know you can crush him, as
he stands before you, and clothed as you are with the
sovereignty of the State. You have the power " to
change his countenance, and to send him away." Nor

Sb LIFE OF WEBSTER.
do I remind you that your judgment is to be rejudged
by the community ; and as you have summoned him for
trial to this high tribunal, you are soon to descend your
selves from these seats of justice, and stand before the
higher tribunal of the world. I would not fail so much
in respect to this Hon. Court, as to hint that it could
pronounce a sentence, which the community will reverse.
No, sir, it is not the world's revision, which I would call
on you to regard ; but that of your own consciences)
when years have gone by, and you shall look^ back on
the sentence you are about to render. If you send away
the Respondent, condemned and sentenced, from your
bar, you are yet to meet him in the world, on which you
cast him put. You will be called to behold him a dis
grace tfKhis family, a sorrow and a shame to his children,
a living fountain of grief and agony to himself.
' If you shall then be able to behold him only as an
unjust judge, whom vengeance has overtaken, and justice
has blasted, you will be able to look upon him, not with
out pity, but yet without remorse. But, if, on the other
hand, you shall see, whenever and wherever you meet
him, a victim of prejudice or of passion, a sacrifice to a
transient excitement ; if you shall see in him, a man, for
whose condemnation any provision of the constitution
has been violated, or any principle of law broken down ;
then wilt he be able— -humble and low as may be his
condition — then wiU he be able to turn the current of
compassion backward, and to look with pity on those
who have been judges. If you are about to visit this
Respondent with a judgment which shall blast his house ;
if the bosoms of the innocent and the amiable are to be
made to bleed under your infliction, I beseech you to
be able to state clear and strong grounds for your pro
ceeding. Prejudice and excitement are transitory, and
will pass away. Political expediency, in matters of ju
dicature, is a false and hollow principle, and will never
satisfy the conscience of him who is fearful that he may
have given a hasty judgment. I earnestly entreat you,
for your own sakes, to possess yourselves of solid reasons.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 89
founded in truth and justice, for the judgment you pro
nounce, which you can carry with you, till you go down
into your graves ; reasons, which it will require no argu
ment to revive, no sophistry, no excitement, no regard to
popular favor, to render satisfactory to your consciences ;
reasons which you can appeal to, in every crisis of your
lives, and which shall be able to assure you, in your own
great extremity, that you have not judged a fellow creature
without mercy.
' Sir, I have done with the case of this individual, and
now leave him in your hands. But I would yet once
more appeal to you as public men ; as statesmen ; as
men of enlightened minds, capable of a large view of
things, and of foreseeing the remote consequences of
important transactions ; and, as such, I would most
earnestly implore you to consider fully of the judgment
you may pronounce. You are about to give a construc
tion to constitutional provisions, which may adhere to
that instrument for ages, either for good or evil. I may
perhaps overrate the importance of this occasion to the
public welfare ; but I confess it does appear to me
that if this body give its sanction to some of the princi
ples which have been advanced on this occasion, then
there is a power in the State above the constitution and
the law ; a power essentially arbitrary and concentrated,
the exercise of which may be most dangerous. If im
peachment be not under the rule of the constitution and
the laws, then may we tremble, not only for those who
may be impeached, but for all others. If the full benefit
of every constitutional provision be not extended to the
Respondent, his case becomes the case of all the people
of the Commonwealth. The constitution is their consti
tution. They have made it for their own protection, and
for his among the rest. They are not eager for his con
viction. They are not thirsting for his blood. If he be
condemned, without having his offences set forth, in the
manner which they, by their constitution have prescribed ;
and proved in the manner which they, by their laws have
ordained, then not only is he condemned unjustly, but
8*

90 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
the rights of the whole people disregarded. For the
sake of the people themselves, therefore, I would resist
all attempts to convict by straining the laws, or getting
over their prohibitions. I hold up before him the broad
shield of the constitution ; if through that he be pierced
and fall, he will be but one sufferer, in a common ca
tastrophe.' In 1826, a resolution being presented to the House
of Representatives for the appropriation of funds ne
cessary to enable the President ofthe United States to
send Ministers to the Congress of Panama, — Mr. Mc
Lane, of Delaware, moved an amendment, the object
of which was to restrain the power of the Ministers to
be sent to ' a diplomatic character merely,' and to
prevent them from discussing, considering, or consult
ing on any propositions of alliance, defensive or offen
sive. The amendment was minute and. particular, but
was not satisfactory to Mr. Rives, of Virginia, who pro
posed an addition to the amendment, binding the Min
isters still more closely. On this amendment, Mr.
Webster addressed the House in a most able and.
learned argument. He said that there were only two
questions to be considered ; the first — ' Whether the
House of Representatives will assume the responsi
bility of withholding the ordinary appropriation for car
rying ipto effect an Executive measure, which the
Executive department has constitutionally instituted ?
The second, — whether, if it will not withhold the ap
propriation, it will yet take the responsibility of. inter
posing with its own opinions, directions, or instructions,

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 91
as to the manner in which this particular Executive
measure shall be conducted?' The debate had be
come animated before Mr. Webster arose, and he had
become deeply interested in the question, and came
out with spirit and determination, and took as wide a
survey as his opponents had ventured upon. Those
unfriendly to the original motion, and those who moved
the amendment were the same, or nearly so. The
friends of the President thought, that a restriction such
as this amendment proposed would unnecessarily inter
fere with the duties and prerogatives of the Executive,
and be a bad precedent, even if within the course of
Congressional authority. Such a power was not prob
ably even contemplated by the framers of the Consti
tution. Many ofthe topics ofthe debate were very general,
and some of those called incidental were as interest
ing, if not more so, than the main question. South
America had lately commenced a struggle for indepen
dence. It was no easy thing to shake off the yoke,
which had for ages been fixed on their necks. The
flame of liberty had spread from province to province,
from mountain to mountain, — through all the plains
and: vales from Mexico to Peru. The voices of men
fighting for freedom were echoed through the whole
land. The morning sun saw the ardent patriots on the
east of the Andes, pouring out their blood as free as
water, for liberty ; and his evening ray with all its
mildness, witnessed ' the spasms of infuriated man,

92 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
struggling to recover his long lost liberty,' as the light
streamed from the Pacific to the glaciers. The op
pressed had risen in one mass and hurled the tyrants
and their minions to the dust, or drove them from the
country, or confined the few remaining engines of ty
ranny to some narrow limits or some half a dozen
strong holds. The lovers of liberty in this country
and every country where liberty has a home, hailed
with delight the prospect of South American emanci
pation. The patriots had every thing to do, and they
went on, as far as they knew what to do, with energy,
patience, and perseverance. The cause was dear to
the people of the United States, and they watched
every breeze from the South with an anxious ear for
the news from that agitated country. As soon as this
country saw that there was a fair prospect, that South
America could, with some assistance and good fortune,
maintain their independence, the United States took
part with them in feeling, if they could do no more.
From these symptoms, and from his own heart, the
President of the United States had spoken boldly and
freely upon the subject of their independence, and the
people were unanimous in repeating his declarations,
and agreed to support him heart and hand, in the part
he should take in the cause.
South America had been a region of romance to us ;
we had traced its history from the discovery of the
country to the revolution. Nature had marked it with
most extraordinary features, — exhibiting all that is

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 93
wild, beautiful, and magnificent in scenery ; it has also
all the varieties of climate, from perpetual verdure to
eternal snows, — and its history abounds in the marvel
lous. The historian can give no satisfactory account
of the nations found there, when the Spaniards came
to subdue it. The conquest of it by Pizarro and Cor-
tez is a tale of wonder throughout. The mild, soft,
and lovely simplicity of the natives has been, in a good
measure, lost by Spanish cruelty, and the succeeding
race of intermingled blood unite some of the worst
traits of both nations, — indolence and ferocity. Spain
has been cursed in a thousand ways for the blood she
has wantonly spilled ; but in none is it more distinctly
seen than in the effects of the treasures she has drawn
from South America. Spain has been plundered and
drained of the gold she wrung from her colonies, and
other nations enjoy what her avarice produced. She
ruled her colonies with a rod of iron ; and, for the
purpose of quenching every ray of civil liberty, had
shrouded them with the thickest mantle of superstition,
and from jealousy and bigotry had shut them from the
rest of the world. All nations were excluded from the
immense seaboard of South America, — a seaboard, the
extent of which was half a measure of the circumfer
ence of the globe itself. The mother country carried
on her commerce sluggishly, and on her own terms.
No olive-tree or vine was allowed to grow on soils
most congenial to their cultivation. Now and then a
smuggler stole into a port of South America at the risk

94 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
of his property and life ; or sometimes, perhaps, neces
sity made a viceroy open a port for a few months,
but the colonies had no regular trade with any nation.
This state of things could not last forever. Some rays
of light burst in upon the darkest portions of that coun
try. Although books were prohibited, and the press
not allowed, yet the history of our revolution, and that
of France became partially known to the people, par
ticularly to the most enterprizing ; and in every coun
try there will always be some more restless and active
than the rest ; — added to this, several young men of
the Spanish and half-blood were sent out of the coun
try to the United States and to England, for the pur
pose of getting an education. These, on their return
home, became dissatisfied with the state of things, and
began secretly to take measures to disseminate intelli
gence among the people ; and step by step they in
creased their influence and power ; which, at last, their
indolent masters saw, and in attempting to put them
down brought on the revolution. The patriots, after
extraordinary efforts, were successful. If all the san
guine anticipated, has not been realized in their march
to freedom, yet, much has been done in the cause of
liberty ; and notwithstanding the confusion, the coun
ter-revolutions, and wars with one another, still the
hopes of the sagacious are not extinguished, but it is
folly believed, that Time will bring healing upon his
wings for these Republics, now torn with intestine
broils, and suffering with unnatural conflicts.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 95
When these new Republics felt that they had done
much, and had still more to do, they proposed a Con
gress to meet at Panama to discuss their domestic and
foreign relations, in order to take their stand with ad
vantage among the nations of the world. The United
States were invited to send a representation to this
body, and the President accepted of the invitation.
The appropriation for their salaries was now under dis
cussion. Mr. Webster, full of the history of that wild
and wonderful region, still came to the debate with a
coolness, and a business spirit that became a statesman.
He indulged in no unreasonable glow of romance upon
the occasion ; but considered the question as one in
volving the great doctrines on which our country had
acted from her birth. There were no rapturous views
of liberty, — nothing of that swelling importance which
is often found among some of our statesmen, who think
the whole world must yield implicitly to all our im
pressions of right and wrong whatever they might be ;
but he put the subject on well settled principles, and
dared to hazard all consequences upon them. South
America was straggling for emancipation, and he wished
the United States to say to the world, ' that as we
saved ourselves by such principles, we dare avow
them, and act upon them, when other States are con
tending for their rights also.' Mr. Webster did not
wish this country to make a Quixotic avowal, in the
case that we would go with them heart and hand at all
lengths, but simply to say that we would consult with

96 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
them at all proper times and on all occasions, and do
all for them consistent with our existing duties. This
was manly and it was right also.
Mr. Canning, the British Premier, boasted, that lie
had created the South American Republics ; this was
the vanity of the great statesman, for the fire had de
scended from heaven and the mass of clay had been
quickened into life, and stood erect as a man, before
he, who would be thought the modern Prometheus,
had contemplated the creation that swelled his heart
with so much pride.
From the breaking out of the revolution in South
America up to the time of the Congress of Panama,
the people of that country looked to those of the United
States for strong sympathies and friendly courtesies, il
not for direct assistance ; and the United States were
not only friendly but enthusiastic in the cause of free
dom ; but some changes had come over a portion of
our people, when this resolution for the appropriatipn
of funds to defray the expenses of this Panama mission
was offered in the House of Representatives ; yet,
notwithstanding this change, it was not a little singular,
and somewhat painful, to hear in Congress, the sons of
those who had invoked gods and men to assist them
in their revolutionary struggles, talking with so muclt
indifference on this great question. Theirs was a case
of stronger oppression than ours. The grievances of
the British Colonies consisted chiefly in assumption of
false principles on the part of the mother country, out

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 97
of which evils might have grown, but their cause of
rebellion was absolute, heartfelt misery from the hand
of the oppressor, whose little finger was thicker than
the loins of those who oppressed us.
Mr. Webster had no hesitation in boldly avowing
his sympathy for the people of South America. In
the close of his speech, he said, ' If it be a weakness to
feel the sympathy of one's nature excited for such
men, in such a cause, I am guilty of that weakness. If
it be prudence to meet their proffered civility, not with
reciprocal kindness, but with coldness or insult, I still
choose to follow where natural impulse leads, and to
give up that false and mistaken prudence, for the vol
untary sentiments of my heart.'
The whole speech is full of sound arguments and
honorable feelings. The following extract, a small
portion of the speech, glances at the situation of South
America, and touches upon the policy our Government
shoidd pursue.
' I am, therefore, Mr. Chairman, against the amend
ment ; not only as not being a proper manner of exer
cising any power belonging to this House ; but also as
not containing instructions fit to be given, if we possessed
the power of giving them. And as my vote will rest on
these grounds, I might terminate my remarks here ; but
the discussion has extended over a broader surface, and
following where others have led, I will ask your indul
gence to a few observations on the more general topics
of the debate.
' Mr Chairman : it is our fortune to be called upon to
act our part, as public men, at a most interesting era in
human affairs. The short period of your life, and of
9

98

LIFE OF WEBSTER.

mine, has been thick and crowded with the most impor
tant events. Not only new interests and new relations
have sprung up among States, but new societies, new
nations, and families of nations, have risen to take their
places, and perform their parts, in the order and the in
tercourse of the world. Every man, aspiring to tbe
character of a statesman, must endeavor to enlarge his
views to meet this new state of things. He must aim at
adequate comprehension, and instead of being satisfied
with that narrow political sagacity, which, like the power
of minute vision, sees small things accurately, but can
see nothing else, he must look to the far horizon, and
embrace, in his broad survey, whatever the series of re
cent events has brought into connexion, near or remote,
with the country whose interests he studies to serve.
We have seen eight States, formed out of colonies on our
own continent, assume the rank of nations.
' This is a mighty revolution, and when we consider
what an extent of the surface ofthe globe they cover'
through what climates they extend; what population
they contain, and what new impulses they must derive
from this change of government, we cannot but perceive
that great effects are likely to be produced on the inter
course, and the interests of the civilized world. Indeed
it has been forcibly said, by the intelligent and distin
guished statesman who conducts the foreign relations of
England, that when we now speak of Europe and the
world we mean Europe and America; and that the dif-
ferent systems of these two portions of the globe, and
their several and various interests, must be thoroughly
studied and nicely balanced by the statesmen of the times,
In many respects, sir, the European and the Ameri-
can nations are alike They are alike Christian States,
civilized S ates, and commercial States. They have
rtT„l V Srme Crm°n fountains of intelligence;
whL all.d'-aw/rom those sources which belong to the
whole civilized world I„ knowledge and leUers-in
hov h? Pea?,! Td War' the-v differ in degrees; but
they bear, nevertheless, a general resemblance On the

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 99
other hand, in matters of government and social institu
tion, the nations on this continent are founded upon
principles which never did prevail, in considerable extent,
either at any other time, or in any other place. There
has never been presented to the mind of man a more
interesting subject of contemplation than the establish
ment of so many nations in America, partaking in the
civilisation and in the arts of the old world, but having
left behind them those cumbrous institutions which had
their origin in a dark and military age. Whatsoever
European experience has developed favorable to the free
dom and the happiness of man ; whatsoever European
genius has invented for his improvement or gratification ;
whatsoever of refinement or polish the culture of Euro
pean society presents for his adoption and enjoyment —
all this is offered to man in America, with the additional
advantages ofthe full power of erecting forms of govern
ment on free and simple principles, without overturning
institutions suited to times long passed, but too strongly
supported, either by interests or prejudices, to be shaken
without convulsions. This unprecedented state of things
presents the happiest of all occasions for an attempt to
establish national intercourse upon improved principles ;
upon principles tending to peace, and the mutual pros
perity of nations. In this respect America, the whole of
America, has a new career before her. If we look back
on the history of Europe, we see how great a portion of
the last two centuries her States have been at war for
interests connected mainly with her feudal monarchies ;
wars for particular dynasties ; wars to support or defeat
particular successions ; wars to enlarge or curtail the
dominions of particular crowns ; wars to support or to
dissolve family alliances ; wars, in fine, to enforce or to
resist religious intolerance. What long and bloody
chapters do these not fill, in the history of European
politics ! Who does not see, and who does not rejoice
to see, that America has a glorious chance of escaping,
at least, these causes of contention. Who does not see,
and who does not rejoice to see, that, on this continent,

100 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
under other forms of government, we have before us the
noble hope of being able, by the mere influence of civil
liberty and religious toleration, to dry up these outpour
ing fountains of blood, and to extinguish these consum
ing fires of war. The general opinion of the age favors
such hopes and such prospects. There is a growing
disposition to treat the intercourse of nations more like
the useful intercourse of friends ; philosophy — just views
of national advantage, good sense and the dictates of a
common religion, and an increasing conviction that war
is not the interest of the human race — all concur, to in
crease the interest created by this new accession to the
list of nations.
' We have heard it said, sir, that the topic of South
American Independence is worn out, and threadbare.
Such it may be, sir, to those who have contemplated it
merely as an article of news, like the fluctuation of the
markets, or the rise and fall of stocks. Such it may be,
to those minds who can see no consequences following
from these great events. But whoever has either under
stood their present -importance, or can at all estimate
their future influence — whoever has reflected on the new
relations they introduce with other States — whoever,
among ourselves especially, has meditated on the new
relations which we now bear to them, and the striking
attitude in which we ourselves are now placed, as the
oldest of the American nations, will feel that the topic
can never be without interest ; and will be sensible, that,
whether we are wise enough to perceive it or not, the
establishment of South American independence will af
fect all nations, and ourselves perhaps more than any
other, through all coming time.
' But, sir, although the independence of these new
States seems effectually accomplished, yet a lingering
and hopeless war is kept up against them by Spain.
This is greatly to be regretted by all nations. To Spain
it is, as every reasonable man sees, useless, and without
hope. To the new States themselves it is burdensome
and afflictive. To the commerce of neutral nations it is

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 101
annoying and vexatious. There seems to be something
ofthe pertinacity ofthe Spanish character in holding on
ia such a desperate course. It reminds us ofthe seventy
years during which Spain resisted the independence of
Holland, i think, however, that there is some reason to
believe that the war approaches to its end. I believe
that the measures adopted by our own Government have
had an effect in tending to produce that result. I un
derstand, at least, that the question of recognition has
been taken into consideration by the Spanish Govern
ment ; and it may be hoped that a war, which Spain
finds to be so expensive, which the whole world tells her
is so hopeless, and which, if continued, now threatens
her with new dangers, she may, ere long, have the pru
dence to terminate.
' Our own course during this contest between Spain
and her colonies is well known. Though entirely and
strictly neutral, we were in favor of early recognition.
Our opinions were known to the allied sovereigns when
in Congress at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1818, at which time
the affairs of Spain and her colonies were under consid
eration ; and, probably, the knowledge of those senti
ments, together with the policy adopted by England,
prevented any interference by other powers at that time.
Yet we have treated Spain with scrupulous delicacy.
We acted on the case as one of civil war. We treated
with the new Governments as Governments de facto.
Not questioning the right of Spain to coerce them back
to their old obedience, if she had the power, we yet held
it to be our right to deal with them as with existing Gov
ernments in fact, when the moment arrived at which it
became apparent and manifest that the dominion of Spain
over these, her ancient colonies, was at an end. Our
right, our interest, and our duty, all concurred at that
moment to recommend recognition — and we did recog
nise. ' Now, sir, the history of this proposed Congress goes
back to an earlier date than that of our recognition. It
9*

102 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
commenced in 1821 ; and one of the treaties now be
fore us, proposing such a meeting, that between Colom
bia and Chili, was concluded in July, 1822, a few months
only after we had acknowledged the independence ofthe
new States. The idea originated, doubtless, in the wish
to strengthen the union among the new governments,
and to promote the common cause of all, the effectual
resistance to Spanish authority. As independence was
at that time their leading object, it is natural to suppose
that they contemplated this mode of mutual intercourse
and mutual arrangement, as favorable to the necessary
concentration of purpose and of action, for the attain
ment of that object. But this purpose of the Congress,
or this leading idea, in which it may be supposed to have
originated, has led, as it seems to me, to great misappre
hensions as to its true character, and great mistakes in
regard to the danger to be apprehended from our sending
ministers to the meeting. This meeting, sir, is a Con
gress — not a Congress as the word is known to our Con
stitution and laws, for we use it in a peculiar sense ; but
as it is known to the law of nations. A Congress, by
the law of nations, is but an appointed meeting for the
settlement of affairs between different nations, in which
the representatives or agents of each treat and negotiate
as they are instructed by their own government. In
other words, this Congress is a diplomatic meeting. We
are asked to join no government — no legislature — no
league — acting by votes. It is a Congress, such as those
of Westphalia, of Nimeguen, of Ryswyck, or of Utrecht;
or such as those which have been holden in Europe, in
our own time. No nation is a party to any thing done
in such assemblies, to which it does not expressly make
itself a party. No one's rights are put at the disposition
of any of the rest, or of all the rest. What ministers
agree to, being afterwards duly ratified at home, binds
their government ; and nothing else binds the govern
ment. Whatsover is done, to which they do not assent,
neither binds the ministers nor their government, any
more than if they had not been present.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 103
• These truths, sir, seem too plain, and too common
place to be stated. I find my apology only in those mis
apprehensions of the character of the meeting to which
I have referred both now and formerly. It has been
said that commercial treaties are not negotiated at such
meetings. Far otherwise is the fact. Among the earliest
of important stipulations made in favor of commerce and
navigation, were those at Westphalia. And what we
call the treaty of Utrecht, was a bundle of treaties nego
tiated at that Congress; some of peace, some of boun
dary, and others of commerce. Again, it has been said,
in order to prove that this meeting is a sort of confed
eracy, that such assemblies are out of the way of ordi
nary negotiation, and are always founded on, and pro
vided for, by previous treaties. Pray, sir, what treaty
preceded the Congress at Utrecht 1 and the meeting of
our Plenipotentiaries with those of England at Ghent,
what was that but a Congress 1 and what treaty preceded
it 1 It is said, again, that there is no sovereign to whom
our ministers can be accredited. Let me ask whether,
in the case last cited, our ministers exhibited their cre
dentials to the mayor of Ghent 1 Sir, the practice of na
tions in these matters is well known, and is free of diffi
culty. If the Government be not present, agents or
Plenipotentiaries interchange their credentials. And
when it is said that our ministers at Panama will be, not
ministers, but deputies, members of a deliberative body,
not protected in their public character by the public law ;
when all this is said, propositions are advanced, of which
1 see no evidence whatever, and which appear to me to
be wholly without foundation.
' It is contended that this Congress, by virtue of the
treaties which the new States have entered into, will
possess powers other than those of a diplomatic charac
ter, as between those new States themselves. If that
were so, it would be unimportant to us. The real ques
tion here is, what will be our relation with those States,
by sending ministers to this Congress 1 Their arrange
ments among themselves will not affect us. Even if it

104 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
were a Government, like our old confederation, yet, if
its members had authority to treat with us in behalf of
their respective nations on subjects on which we have
a right to treat, the Congress might still be a very
proper occasion for such negotiations. Do gentlemen
forget that the French Minister was introduced to our
old Congress, met in its sessions, carried on oral discus
sions with it, and treated with it in behalf of the French
King 1 All that did not make him a member of it ; nor
connect him at all with the relations which its members
bore to each other. As he treated on the subject of car
rying on the war against England, it was, doubtless, hos
tile towards that power ; but this consequence followed
from the object and nature of the stipulations, and not
from the manner of the intercourse. The representa
tives of these South American States, it is said, will
carry on belligerent councils at this Congress. Be it so;
we shall not join in such councils. At the moment of
invitation, our Government informed the ministers of
those States, that we could not make ourselves a party
to the war between them and Spain, nor to councils for
deliberating on the means of its further prosecution.
' If, it is asked, we send ministers to a Congress com
posed altogether of belligerents, is it not a breach of
neutrality ? Certainly not ; no man can say it is. Sup
pose, sir, that these ministers from the new States, in
stead of Panama, were to assemble at Bogota, where we
already have a minister ; their councils, at that place,
might be belligerent, while the war should last vvith
Spain. But should we, on that account, recall our min
ister from Bogota? The whole argument rests on this;
that because, at the same time and place, the agents of
the South American Governments may negotiate about
their own relations with each Other, in regard to their
common war against Spain, therefore we cannot at the
same time and place, negotiate with them, or any of
them, upon our own neutral and commercial relations.
This proposition, sir, cannot be maintained ; and, there
fore, all the inferences^ from it fail.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 105
' But, sir, I see no proof that, as between themselves,
the representatives of the South American States are to
possess other than diplomatic powers. I refer to the
treaties, which are essentially alike, and which have been
often read.
'With two exceptions, (which I will notice,) the arti
cles of these treaties, describing the powers of the Con
gress, are substantially like those in the treaty of Paris,
in 1814, providing for the Congress at Vienna, lt was
there stipulated that all the powers should send plenipo
tentiaries to Vienna, to regulate, in general Congress,
the arrangements to complete the provisions of the pre
sent treaty. Now, it might have been here asked, how
regulate ? How regulate in general Congress ? — regu
late by votes ? Sir, nobody asked such questions ; sim
ply because it was to be a Congress of plenipotentiaries.
The two exceptions which I have mentioned, are, that
this Congress is to act as a council and to interpret trea
ties ; but there is nothing in either of these to be done
which may not be done diplomatically. What is more
common than diplomatic intercourse, to explain and to
interpret treaties 1 Or what more frequent than that na
tions, having a common object, interchange mutual
counsels and advice, through the medium of their res
pective ministers ? To bring this matter, sir, to tbe test,
let me ask, when these ministers assemble at Panama,
can they do anything but according to their instruc
tions ? Have they any organization, any power of action,
or any rule of action common to them all 1 No more,
sir, than the respective ministers at the Congress of Vi
enna. Everything is settled by the use of the word
Plenipotentiary. That proves the meeting to be diplo
matic, and nothing else. Who ever heard of a plenipo
tentiary member of the Legislature? — a plenipotentiary
burgess of a city ? — or a plenipotentiary knight of the
shire 1
' We may dismiss all fears, sir, arising from the nature
of this meeting. Our agents will go there, if they go at
all, in the character of ministers, protected by the public

106 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
law, negotiating only for ourselves, and not called on to
violate any neutral duty of their own government. If it
be so that this meeting has other powers, in consequence
of other arrangements between other States, of which I
see no proof, still, we are not party to these arrange
ments, nor can be in any way affected by them. As far
as this government is concerned, nothing can be done
but by negotiation, as in other cases.
* It has been affirmed, that this measure, and the sen
timents expressed by the Executive relative to its objects,
are an acknowledged departure from the neutral policy
of the United States. Sir, I deny there is an acknowl
edged departure, or any departure at all, from the neu
tral policy of the country. What do we mean by our
neutral policy ? Not, I suppose, a blind and stupid in
difference to whatever is passing around us ; not a total
disregard to approaching events, or approaching evils,
till they meet us full in the face. Nor do we mean, by
our neutral policy, that we intend never to assert our
rights by force. No, sir. We mean by our policy of
neutrality, that the great objects of national pursuit with
us are connected with peace. We covet no provinces;
we desire no conquests ; we entertain no ambitious pro
jects of aggrandizement by war. This is our policy,
But it does not follow, from this, that we rely less than
other nations, on our own power to vindicate our own
rights. We know that the last logic of kings is also our
last logic ; that our own interests must be defended and
maintained by our own arm ; and that peace or war may
not always be of our own choosing. Our neutral policy,
therefore, not only justifies but requires, our anxious at
tention to the political events which take place in the
world, a skilful perception of their relation to our own
concerns, and an early anticipation of their consequences,
and firm and timely assertion of what we hold to be our
own rights, and our own interests. Our neutrality is
not a predetermined abstinence, either from remon
strances, or from force. Our neutral policy is a policy
that protects neutrality, that defends neutrality, that takes

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 107
up arms, if need be, for neutrality. When it is said,
therefore, that this measure departs from our neutral pol
icy, either that policy, or the measure itself, is misun
derstood. It implies either that the object pr the ten
dency of the measure is to involve us in the war of other
States, which I think cannot be shown, or that the asser
tion of our own sentiments, on points affecting deeply
our own interests, may place us in a hostile attitude with
other States, and that, therefore, we depart from neu
trality ; whereas, the truth is, that the decisive assertion,
and the firm support of these sentiments, may be most
essential to the maintenance of neutrality.
' An honorable member from Pennsylvania thinks this
Congress will bring a dark day over the United States.
Doubtless, sir, it is an interesting moment in our his
tory ; but I see no great proofs of thick coming dark
ness. But the object of the remark seemed to be to
show that the President himself saw difficulties on all
sides, and, making a choice of evils, preferred rather to
send ministers to this Congress, than to run the risk of
exciting the hostility of the States by refusing to send.
In other words, the gentleman wished to prove that the
President intended an alliance ; although such intention
is expressly disclaimed.
' Much commentary has been bestowed on the letters
of invitation from the ministers. I shall not go through
with verbal criticisms on these letters. Their general
import is plain enough. I shall not gather together
small and minute quotations, taking a sentence here, a
word there, and a syllable in a third place, dovetailing
them into the course of remark, till the printed discourse
bristles with inverted commas, in every line, like a har
vest-field: I look to the general tenor ofthe invitations,
and I find that we are asked to take part only in such
things as concern ourselves. I look still more carefully
to the answers, and I see every proper caution, and pro
per guard. I look to the message, and I see that noth
ing is there contemplated, likely to involve us in other
men's quarrels, or that may justly give offence to any
foreign State. With this, I am satisfied.'

108 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
In April, 1828, a bill was before Congress for the
relief of certain officers of the revolutionary war. In
1780, the army was in a state of wretchedness, in want
of food, clothes, and pay, and it seemed as if the cause
was, after all the struggles and hardships, about to be
abandoned for want of means to support an army. In
this state of affairs, Congress had resort to an act, giv
ing in the plenitude of a promise, half-pay for life to
those officers who would engage to serve their country
during the war. This body staked the faith of the na
tion for the redemption of the pledge. The brave suf
ferers accepted the offer, believing that the country
ivould be able to pay them if the war was once fairly
ended, and they were determined to end it as soon as
possible. By this, new life and energy was restored
to the army, and they went on with a high spirit, trust
ing to this faith of the nation, so solemnly pledged.
In 1783, Congress made a commutation of this half-
pay for life, reasoning upon what they thought the
country was able to pay, rather than upon the terms of
the solemn contract. A few agents spake and acted for
the whole body of the officers ; but as a body the officers
were never satisfied with the result, with this huckster
ing of the Government. Many fell into the measure,
fearing that if this commutation was refused, nothing
would ever be obtained. Some thought perhaps this
was the best the country could do, and of course were
silent. The old soldier who had made so many sacii-
fices, was not disposed to quarrel now, about this act of

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 109
injustice, after he had been quiet so long. Some had
a strong faith that when the treasury should be full,
and the nation prosperous, all would come right.
When the time of peace and prosperity did arrive, a
law making provision for the officers and soldiers of
the revolution, was recommended by the President of
the United States, and passed by Congress. This did
much good, and saved many from living upon the
charity of friends, or from suffering ; but the act was
so narrowly construed, that none but those absolutely
suffering for daily bread were considered within the
pale of it. But few of the officers who had accepted
of the commutation had come within the act passed in
1818, and they petitioned Congress for some settle
ment in equity and justice of their claims. Influential
agents were chosen from the survivors of those officers
who had accepted the offer of Congress in 1780, who
repaired to Washington to represent the merits of their
claims before a committee of Congress. They made
their appearanee; — the silver-haired veterans were
seen pacing the lobbies of the capitol, waiting to catch
a look from some member who was supposed to be
friendly, or to have some influence in the House or
Senate, when the bill should be called up. One would
have supposed that such a bill would have passed with
acclamation, but there were many difficulties in the
way, that could hardly be imagined. Those who said
anything upon the subject, considered that these old
soldiers had a good claim on the country, in equity ;
10

110 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
but all equitable claims had not legal rights, much less
remedies. A new generation had arisen since the
revolutionary war, who thought it the most prudent
way to consider all these matters as out-lawed. The
whole subject was excellent on the page of history;
shone bright there, and made up no small part of our
glory, but to pay for this was too bad ! They acted
virtually upon the maxim of the philosopher, who said,
' It was well enough for dutiful children to raise a
monument to their departed parents, but succeeding
generations were romantic who should rebuild the pile
when in a state of dilapidation. ' The subject of hard-
fighting ancestors was all-glorious, was excellent to
paint a moral or adorn a tale, but to pay for all this
after half a century, was something too near vulgar
life ; to put their hands into the treasury and to take
out gold for those old stones, was too bad ! It would
take off no small portion of the delight they had felt in
contemplating the subject, to do this !
Some of the members had constituents whose coun
try had come into existence, as a place of civilization,
since all these things had happened, since these talked-
of services had been performed ; and it could not be
expected that they would look back far enough to trace
their connexion with the services of these old soldiers.
These men were brought reluctantly, if at all, to vote
for such a bill. The impassioned appeal was to them,
like lightning on the impassive ice. Their hearts were
cold to the claim ofthe warriors who had fought half a

LIFE OF WEBSTER. Ill
century ago. There were some noble exceptions to
this remark among those whose constituents were not
directly interested. These met objection after objec
tion, contended with their opponents without flinching,
and put down sneer and sarcasm with honest inten
tions and good feelings, and held on until victory was
secured. These good men and true, felt heart-sick at
times, to hear the old soldier reviled, or treated with
disrespect. Mr. Webster, thinking the question a clear one, and
believing that the bill would pass without any difficulty,
and being much engaged in other matters of business,
had not thought of making a speech on the subject,
but looking around, and seeing the venerable agents of
these venerable relicts of other days, — Ogden and
Reed, — officers who had fought without fear, and lived
without reproach, except that of being made poor by
devoting their lives and property to the cause of the
revolution ; he could restrain himself no longer ; but re
solved to come to the succour, to the joy of the old sol
diers. He condensed all the arguments in favor of the
bill into a few favorable remarks, and struck down
those raised against it at a blow. The argument was
condensed, strong, and in fact irresistible. No war-
cry ever raised these veteran officers as did his speech,
— they laughed, they wept, they were happy. If the bill
had been rejected, and they ordered to the scaffold, it
would have been of no consequence to them at that
moment ; for they had lived to hear, after half a een-

112 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
tury, themselves defended by one who felt their
wrongs, and knew their rights ; one who spake of them
without fee, favor, or reward, except that reward which
arises from a consciousness of having done one's duty,
The tears of the veterans were infectious, the sympa
thy extended to the audience, reached the members of
the Senate, — and the bill passed. The nation hailed
it as one more act of reluctant justice, and augured
from it that in time something further would be done
to relieve those who ventured all for their country in
her utmost need.
This short speech affords so favorable a specimen of
Mr. Webster's condensed and forcible style of argu
ment, that it is here presented to the reader entire.
' It has not been my purpose to take any part in the
discussion of this bill. My opinions in regard to its
general object, I hope are well known ; and I had in
tended to content myself with a steady and persevering
vote in its favor. But, when the moment of final decis
ion has come, and the division is so likely to be nearly
equal, I feel it to be a duty to put not only my own vote,
but my own earnest wishes also, and my fervent en
treaties to others, into the doubtful scale.
' It must be admitted, sir, that the persons for whose
benefit this bill is designed, are, in some respects, pe
culiarly unfortunate. They are compelled to meet not
only objections to the principle, but, whichever way they
turn themselves, embarrassing objections also to details.
One friend hesitates at this provision, and another at
that; while those who are not friends at all, of course
oppose everything, and propose nothing. When it was
contemplated, heretofore, to give the petitioners an out
right sum, in satisfaction of their claim, then the argu*

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 113
ment was, among other things, that the treasury could
not bear so heavy a draught on its means, at the present
moment. ' The plan is accordingly changed : an annuity is pro
posed ; and then the objection changes also ; and it is
now said, that this is but granting pensions, and that the
pension system has already been carried too far. I con
fess, sir, I felt wounded — deeply hurt — at the observa
tions of the gentleman from Georgia. " So then," said
he, " these modest and high-minded gentlemen take a
pension at last !" How is it possible, that a gentleman
of his generosity of character, and general kindness of
feeling, can indulge in such a tone of triumphant irony
towards a few old, gray headed, poor, and broken war
riors of the revolution ! There is, I know, something
repulsive and opprobrious in the name of pension. But,
God forbid that I should taunt them with it ! With
grief, heart-full grief, do I behold the necessity which
leads these veterans to accept the bounty of their coun
try, in a manner not the most agreeable to their feelings.
Worn out and decrepit, represented before us by those,
their former brothers in arms, who totter along our
lobbies, or stand leaning on their crutches. I, for one,
would most gladly support such a measure as should con
sult at once their services, their years, their necessities,
and the delicacy of their sentiments. I would gladly
give, with promptitude and grace, with gratitude and
delicacy, that which merit has earned, and necessity
demands. ' Sir, what are the objections urged against this bill ?
Let us look at them, and see if they be real ; let us
weigh them, to know if they be solid. For, sir, we are
not acting on a slight matter. Nor is what we do likely
to pass unobserved now, or to be forgotten hereafter. I
regard the occasion as one full of interest and full of re
sponsibility. Those individuals, the little remnant of a
gallant band, whose days of youth and manhood were
spent for their country in the toils and dangers of the
field, are now before us, poor and old, — intimating their
10*

114 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
wants with reluctant delicacy, and asking succor from
their country with decorous solicitude. How we shall
treat them, it behooves us well to consider, not only for
their sake, but for our own sake, also, and for the sake
of the honor of the country. Whatever we do, will not
be done in a corner. Our constituents will see it ; the
people will see it ; the world will see it.
' Let us candidly examine, then, the objections which
have been raised to this bill ; with a disposition to yield
to them, if from necessity we must ; but to overcome
them, if in fairness we can.
• In the first place, it is said, that we ought not to pass
the bill, because it will involve us in a charge of wi«
known extent. We are reminded, that when the genie*
ral pension law for revolutionary soldiers passed, *an
expense was incurred far beyond what had been con
templated ; that the estimate of the number of surviving
revolutionary soldiers, proved altogether fallacious ; and
that, for aught we know, the same mistake may be com
mitted now.
' Is this objection well-founded 1 Let me say, in the
first place, that if one measure, right in itself, has gone
farther than it was intended to be carried, for want of
accurate provisions, and adequate guards, this may
furnish a very good reason for supplying such guards
and provisions in another measure, but can afford no
ground at all for rejecting such other measure, alto
gether, if it be in itself just and necessary. We should
avail ourselves of our experience, it seems to me, to cor
rect what has been found amiss ; and not to draw from
it an undistinguishing resolution to do nothing, merely
because it has taught us, that, in something we have
already done, we have acted with too little care. In the
next place, does the fact bear out this objection ? Is
there any difficulty in ascertaining the number of the
officers who will be benefited by this bill, and in esti
mating the expense, therefore, which it will create 1 I
think there is none. The records in the department of
war, and the treasury, furnish such evidence as that

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 115
there is no danger of material mistake. The diligence
of the chairman of the committee has enabled him to
lay the facts, connected with this part of the case, so
fully and minutely before the Senate, that I think no
one can feel serious doubt. Indeed, it is admitted by
the adversaries of the bill, that this objection does not
apply here with the same force as in the former pension-
law. It is admitted that there is a greater facility in
this case than in that, in ascertaining the number and
names of those who will be entitled to receive that
bounty. ' This objection, then, is not founded in true princi
ple ; and if it were, it is not sustained by the facts. I
think we ought not to yield to it, unless, (which I know
is not the sentiment which pervades the Senate,) feeling
that the measure ought not to pass, we still prefer not
to place our opposition to it on a distinct and visible
ground, but to veil it under vague and general objec
tions. ' In the second place, it has been objected, that the
operation of the bill will be unequal, because all officers
of the same rank will receive equal benefit from it, al
though they entered the army at different times, and
were of different ages. Sir, is not this that sort of ine
quality which must always exist in every general provis
ion ? Is it possible that any law can descend into such
particulars ? Would there be any reason why it should
do so, if it could 1 The bill is intended for those, who,
being in the army in October, 1780, then received a
solemn promise of half-pay for life, on condition that
they would continue to serve through the war. Their
ground of merit is, that whensover they had joined the
army, being thus solicited by their country to remain in
it, they at once went for the whole ; they fastened their
fortunes to the standards which they bore, and resolved
to continue their military service till it should terminate
either in their country's success or in their own deaths.
This is their merit and their ground of claim. How
long they had been already in service, is immaterial and

116 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
unimportant. They were then in service ; the salvation
of their country depended on their continuing in that
service. Congress saw this imperative necessity, and
earnestly solicited them to remain, and promised the
compensation. They saw the necessity, also, and they
yielded to it.
' But, again, it is said that the present time is not
auspicious. The bill, it is urged, should not pass now.
The venerable member from North Carolina says, as I
understood him, that he would be almost as willing that
the bill should pass at some other session, as be discussed
at this. He speaks of the distresses of the country at
the present moment, and of another bill, now in the
Senate, having, as he thinks, the effect of laying new
taxes upon the people. He is for postponement. But it
appears to me, with entire respect for the honorable
member, that this is one of the cases least of all fit for
postponement. It is not a measure, that, if omitted this
year, may as well be done next. Before next year
comes, those who need the relief may be beyond its
reach. To postpone for another year, an annuity to
persons already so aged ; an annuity, founded on the
merit of services which were rendered half a century
ago ; to postpone, for another whole year, a bill for the
relief of deserving men, — proposing not aggrandizement
but support ; not emolument but bread ; is a mode of
disposing of it, in which I cannot concur.
' But it is argued, in the next place, that the bill ought
not to pass, because those who have spoken in its favor
have placed it on different grounds. They have not
agreed, it is said, whether it is to be regarded as a mat
ter of right, or matter of gratuity, or bounty. Is there
weight in this objection ? If some think the grant ought
to be made, as an exercise of judicious and well deserved
bounty, does it weaken that ground that others think it
founded in strict right, and that we cannot refuse it
without manifest and palpable injustice ? Or, is it
strange, that those who feel the legal justice ofthe claim,
should address to those who do not feel it, considerations!

LtFE OF WEBSTER. lit
Of a different character, but fit to have weight, and which
they hope may have weight ? Nothing is more plain and
natural than the course which this application has taken.
The applicants, themselves, have placed it on the ground
of equity and law. They advert to the resolve of 1780,
to the commutation of 1783, and to the mode of fund
ing the certificates. They stand on their contract.
This is perfectly natural. On that basis they can wield
the argument themselves. Of what is required by jus
tice and equity, they may reason even in their own case.
But when the application is placed on different grounds ;
when personal merit is to be urged, as the foundation of a
just and economical bounty ; when services are to be men
tioned ; privations recounted ; pains enumerated ; and
wounds and scars counted ; the discussion necessarily
devolves to other hands. In all that we have seen from
these officers in the various papers presented by them,
it cannot but be obvious to every one, how little is said
of personal merit, and how exclusively they confine
themselves to what they think their rights under the
contract. 'I must confess, sir, that principles of equity, which
appear to me as plain as the sun, are urged by the me
morialists themselves with great caution, and much
qualification. They advance their claim of right, with
out extravagance or overstraining ; and they submit it to
the unimpassioned sense of justice ofthe Senate.
'For myself, I am free to say, that if it were a case
between individual and individual, I think the officers
would be entitled to relief in a court of equity. I may
be mistaken, but such is my opinion. My reasons are,
that I do not think they had a fair option, in regard to
the commutation of half-pay. I do not think it was
fairly in their power to accept or reject that offer. The
condition they were in, and the situation ofthe country,
compelled them to submit to whatever was proposed.
In the next place it seems to me too evident to be de
nied, that the five years' full pay was never really and
fully made to them. A formal compliance with the

118 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
terms of the contract, not a real compliance, is at most
all that was ever done. For these reasons, I think, in
an individual case, law and equity would reform the set
tlement. The conscience of chancery would deal with
this case as with other cases of hard bargains ; of ad
vantages obtained by means of inequality of situation ;
of acknowledged debts, compounded from necessity, or
compromised without satisfaction. But, although such
would be my views of this claim, as between man and
man, I do not place my vote for this bill on that ground.
I see the consequence of admitting the claim, on the
foundation of strict right. I see, at once, that, on that
ground, the heirs ofthe dead would claim, as well as the
living ; and that other public creditors, as well as these
holders of commutation certificates, would also havo
whereof to complain. I know it is altogether impossible
to open the accounts of the revolution, and to think of
doing justice to everybody. Much of suffering there
necessarily was, that can never be paid for ; much of
loss that can never be repaired. I do not, therefore, for
myself, rest my vote on grounds leading to any such
consequences. I feel constrained to say, that we cannot
do, and ought not to think of doing, everything in re
gard to revolutionary debts, which might be strictly
right, if the whole settlement were now to be gone over
anew. The honorable member from New York [Mr.
Van Buren,] has Stated, what I think the true ground of
the bill. I regard it as an act of discreet and careful
bounty, drawn forth by meritorious services, and by per
sonal necessities. I cannot argue, in this case, with the
technicality of my profession ; and because I do not feel
able to allow the claim on the ground of mere right,
I am not willing, for that reason, to nonsuit the pe
titioners, as not having made out their case. Suppose
we admit, as I do, that on the ground of mere right, it
would not be safe to allow it ; or, suppose that to be admit
ted for which others contend, that there is in the case
no strict right upon which, under any circumstances,
the claim could stand ; still, it does not follow that

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 1 19
there is no reasonable and proper foundation for it, or
that it ought not to be granted. If it be not founded on
strict right, it is not to be regarded as being, for that
reason alone, an undeserved gratuity, or the effusion of
mere good will. If that which is granted be not always
granted on the ground of absolute right, it does not fol
low that it is granted from merely an arbitrary preference,
or capricious beneficence. In most cases of this sort,
mixed considerations prevail, and ought to prevail. Some
consideration is due to the claim of right; much to that of
merit and service ; and more to that of personal necessity.
If I knew that all the persons to be benefited by this bill
were in circumstances of comfort and competency, I
should not support it. But this I know to be otherwise.
I cannot dwell with propriety, or delicacy, on this part
of the case ; but I feel its force, and I yield to it. A
single instance of affluence, or a few cases where want
does not tread close on those who are themselves tread
ing close on the borders of the grave, does not affect the
general propriety and necessity of the measure. I would
not draw this reason for the bill into too much promi
nence. We all know it exists ; and we may, I think,
safely act upon it, without so discussing it as to wound,
in old, but sensitive, and still throbbing bosoms, feelings
which education inspired, the habits of military life cher
ished, and a just self-respect is still desirous to entertain.
I confess I meet this claim, not only with a desire to do
something in favor of these officers, but to do it in a
manner indicative not only of decorum but of deep re
spect, — that respect which years, age, public service,
patriotism, and broken fortune, command to spring up
in every manly breast.
' It is, then, sir, a mixed claim, of faith and public
gratitude ; of justiee and honorable bounty ; of merit
and benevolence. It stands on the same foundation aa
that grant, which no one regrets, of which all are proud,
made to the illustrious foreigner, who showed himself so
early, and has proved himself so constantly, and zealously,
a friend to our country.

120 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
' But then, again, it is objected, that the militia have
a claim upon us ; that they fought at the side of the
regular soldiers, and ought to share in the country's re
membrance. It is known to be impossible, to carry the
measure to such an extent as to embrace the militia ;
and it is plain, too, that the cases are different. The
bill, as I have already said, confines itself to those who
served not occasionally, not temporarily, but permanently;
who allowed themselves to be counted on as men who
were to see the contest through, last as long as it might ;
and who haye made the phrase of " listing during the
war," a proverbial expression, signifying unalterable de
votion to our cause, through good fortune and ill for
tune, till it reaches its close. This is a plain distinc
tion ; and although perhaps I might wish to do more, I
see good ground to stop here, for the present, if we must
stop anywhere. The militia who fought at Concord, at
Lexington, and at Bunker's Hill, have been alluded to,
in the course of this debate, in terms of well-deserved
praise. Be assured, sir, there could with difficulty be
found a man, who drew his sword, or carried his mus
ket, at Concord, at Lexington, or Bunker's Hill, who
would wish you to reject this bill. They might ask you
to do more ; but never to refrain from doing this. Would
to God they were assembled here, and had the fate of
the bill in their own hands ! Would to God, the ques
tion of its passage was to be put to them ! They would
affirm it, with a unity of acclamation that would rend the
roof of the capitol.
'I support the measure, then, Mr. President, because
I think it a proper and judicious exercise of well-merited
national bounty. I think, too, the general sentiment of
my own constituents, and of the country, is in favor of
it. I believe the member from North Carolina, himself,
admitted, that an increasing desire, that something should
be done for the revolutionary officers, manifested itself
in the community. The bill will make no immediate or
great draught on the treasury. It will not derange the
finances. If I had supposed that the state of the treasury

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 121
would have been urged against the passage of this bill, I
should not have voted for the Delaware break-water, be
cause that might have been commenced next year ; nor
for the whole of the sums which have been granted for
fortifications; for their advancement, with a little more
or little less of rapidity, is not of the first necessity. But
the present case is urgent What we do, should be done
quickly. ' Mr. President, allow me to repeat, that neither the
subject, nor the occasion, is an ordinary one. Our own
fellow-citizens do not so consider it ; the world will not
so regard it A few deserving soldiers are before us,
who served their country faithfully through a seven years'
war. That was a civil war. It was commenced on prin
ciple, and sustained by every sacrifice, on the great
ground of civil liberty. They fought bravely, and bled
freely. The cause succeeded, and the country triumph
ed. But the condition of things did not allow that coun
try, sensible as it was to their services and merits, to do
them the full justice which it desired. It could not en
tirely fulfill its engagements. The army was to be dis
banded ; but it was unpaid. It was to lay down its own
power ; but there was no government with adequate
power to perform what had been promised to it. In this
critical moment, what is its conduct ? Does it disgrace
its high character ? Is temptation able to seduce it 1
Does it speak of righting itself? Does it undertake to
redress its own wrongs, by its own sword ? Does it lose
its patriotism in its deep sense of injury and injustice 1
Does military ambition cause its integrity to swerve ?
Far, far, otherwise.
' It had faithfully served and saved the country ; and
to that country it now referred, with unhesitating confi
dence, its claim and its complaints. It laid down its
arms with alacrity ; it mingled itself with the mass of
the community ; and it waited till, in better times, and
under a new government, its services might be rewarded,
and the promises made to it fulfilled. Sir, this example
is worth more, far more, to the cause of civil liberty,
11

122 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
than this bill will cost us. We can hardly recur to it
too often, or dwell on it too much, for the honor of our
country, and of its defenders. Allow me to say again,
that meritorious service in civil war is worthy of peculiar
consideration ; not only because there is, in such war,
usually less power to restrain irregularities, but because,
also, they expose all prominent actors in them to differ
ent kinds of danger. It is rebellion, as well as war.
Those who engage in it must look not only to the dan
gers of the field, but to confiscation also and attainder,
and ignominious death. With no efficient and settled
government, either to sustain or to control them, and
with every sort of danger before them, it is great merit
to have conducted with fidelity to the country, under
every discouragement on the one hand, and with uncon
querable bravery towards the common enemy on the
other. So, sir, the officers and soldiers of the revolu
tionary army did conduct.
' I would not, and do not underrate the services or the
sufferings of others. I know well, that in the revolu
tionary contest, all made sacrifices, and all endured suf
ferings ; as well those who paid for service, as those who
performed it. I know, that, in the records of all the
little municipalities of New England, abundant proof
exists of the zeal with which the cause was espoused,
and the sacrifices with which it was cheerfully maintained.
I have often there read, with absolute astonishment, the
taxes, the contributions, the heavy subscriptions, often
provided for by disposing of the absolute necessaries of
life ; by which enlistments were procured, and food and
clothing furnished. It would be, sir, to these same mu
nicipalities, to these same little patriotic councils of rev
olutionary times, that I should now look, with most as
sured confidence, for a hearty support of what this bill
proposes. There, the scale of revolutionary merit stands
high. There are still those living, who speak of the
19th of April, and the 17th of June, without thinking it
necessary to add the year. These men, one and all,
would rejoice to find that those who stood by the country

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 123
bravely, through the doubtful and perilous struggle which
conducted it to independence and glory, had not been
forgotten in the decline and close of life.
' The objects, then, sir, of the proposed bounty, arc
most worthy and deserving objects. The services which
they rendered, were in the highest degree useful and
important. The country to which they rendered them,
is great and prosperous. They have lived to see it glo
rious ; let them not live to see it unkind. For me, I
can give'them but my vote, and my prayers ; and I give
them both with my whole heart.'
In May, 1828, a tariff bill was brought before the
Senate of the United States, and Mr. Webster found
himself under the necessity of giving some reasons for
the vote he was about to give on the occasion, as it
might seem not to be in accordance with his vote on
the tariff in 1824. At that time, Mr. Webster rep
resented a commercial district, and a large majority of
his constituents were opposed to the restrictions on
trade which that bill contained. He urged every ar
gument in his power against it, but it was passed. At
that period, he declared that if the bill did pass, there
would be no alternative for New England, but to con
sider the course and policy of the Government as set
tled and fixed, and to act accordingly. The law did
pass, and millions of dollars were invested in manufac
tures from necessity. The merchants came to this
reluctantly, but when once engaged in manufacturing,
this became as dear an interest as the mercantile, and
they were as anxious to protect it. He conceived that
if the system must be pursued, and this seemed deter-

124 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
mined upon by a majority of votes in Congress, he
thought that those driven into it by the acts of 1816
and 1824, should have some protection, such as they
deemed necessary, particularly those who had gone
into the manufacture of woollens, on which, as a new
business, the strictest calculations could not be made.
Mr. Webster weighed the subject thoroughly, and took
his course with its responsibility. It cannot be denied
but that some of his former friends, who had still con
fined themselves entirely to commerce, were, for a
season, disaffected towards him ; not offended, but
hurt ; not inimical, but cool. This was the most trying
situation he had ever been placed in, for among the
merchants opposed to the tariff, might be numbered
some of his earliest and best friends. This, he regret
ted; but being conscious of having done right, he kept
on, without suffering himselfto be disturbed at anything
said upon the subject ; and he knew also his constitu
ents, that they were of that class of men who would
correct their impressions, when all his reasons for voting
as he did were fully understood by them. In this ex
citement he returned to Boston : a sight of their favor
ite was enough to restore all things with this people ;
and those who were delighted, and those who had
complained, united, to give him a dinner, as a mark of
their high estimation of his integrity and independence.
This was, of course, accepted ; and he met them and
gave them a speech explanatory of his conduct. They
were satisfied, and his popularity remained undimin-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 125
ished. This dinner must have been peculiarly accept
able to Mr. Webster, as it was another proof that his
constituents were intelligent and magnanimous; and
governed, (if now and then touched by that caprice,
so common in free communities,) by high and proper
principles. Envy thought she had found a want of
consistency in this statesman, and seized the circum
stances of the tariff to diminish his influence in the
nation ; but this expression of confidence, connected
with the treatment he has met with in Massachusetts
ever since, answered and refuted those who had clam
ored, and vainly hoped to prostrate him every where,
by showing that he had become powerless in the house
of his friends. Such circumstances try men's depth,
breadth and weight of character. Under such charges
of inconsistency, a little man sinks, for he is generally
so entirely ' frightened from his propriety,' that, in the
endeavor to exculpate himself, he falls into greater dif
ficulties. Mr. Webster stated the reasons for what he
had done; a reason all had a right to ask, but he
made no apologies, he had no palliation to offer. There
were his acts ; there were his speeches : judge for
yourselves, was the appeal, and to such a body it was
all that was required. Mr. Hayne, in his speech on
Mr. Foote's resolution, indirectly revived the charge ;
hear Mr. Webster's answer to that insinuation.
' As well as I recollect the course of his remarks, the
honorable gentlemen next recurred to the subject of the
tariff. He did not doubt the word must be of unpleas
ant sound to me, and proceeded, with an effort, neither
11*

126 LIFE OF WEBgTER.
new, nor attended with new success, to involve me and
my votes in inconsistency and contradiction. I am hap
py the honorable gentleman has furnished me an oppor
tunity of a timely remark or two on that subject. I was
glad he approached it, for it is a question I enter upon
without fear from any body. The strenuous toil of the
gentleman has been to raise an inconsistency, between
my dissent to the tariff in 1824, and my vote in 1828.
It is labor lost. He pays undeserved compliment to my
speech in 1824 ; but this is to raise me high, that my
fall, as he would have it, in 1828, may be more signal.
Sir, there was no fall at ail. Between the ground I stood
on in 1824, and that I took in 1828, there was not only
no precipice, but no declivity. It was a change of posi
tion, to meet new circumstances, but on the same level.
A plain tale explains the whole matter. In 1816, I had
not acquiesced in the tariff, then supported by South
Carolina. To some parts of it, especially, I felt and
expressed great repugnance. I held tbe same opinions
in 1821, at the meeting in Faneuil Hall, to which the
gentleman has alluded. I said then, and say now, that,
as an original question, the authority of Congress to ex
ercise the revenue power, with direct reference to the
protection of manufactures, is a questionable authority,
far more questionable, in my judgment, than the power
of internal improvements. I must confess, sir, that, in
one respect, some impression has been made on my
opinions lately. Mr. Madison's publication has put the
power in a very strong light. He has placed it, I must
acknowledge, upon grounds of construction'and argument,
which seem impregnable. But even if the power were
doubtful, on the face of the constitution itself, it had been
assumed and asserted in the first revenue law ever passed
under that same constitution ; and, on this ground, as a
matter settled by cotemporaneous practice, I had re
frained from expressing the opinion that the tariff laws
transcended constitutional limits, as the gentleman sup
poses. What I did say at Faneuil Hall, as far as I now
remember, was, that this was originally matter of doubt-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 127
ful construction. The gentleman himself, I suppose,
thinks there is no doubt about it, and that the laws are
plainly against the constitution. Mr. Madison's letters,
already referred to, contain, in my judgment, by far
the most able exposition extant of this part of the consti
tution. He has satisfied me, so far as the practice of the
government had left it an open question.
' With a great majority of the Representatives of Mas
sachusetts, I voted against the tariff of 1824. My rea
sons were then given, and I will not now repeat them.
But, notwithstanding our dissent, the great States of New
York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Kentucky, went for the
bill, in almost unbroken column, and it passed. Con
gress and the President sanctioned it, and it became the
law of the land. What, then, were we to do ? Our
only option was, either to fall in with this settled course
of public policy, and accommodate ourselves to it as well
as we could, or to embrace the South Carolina doctrine,
and talk of nullifying the statute by State interference.
' This last alternative did not suit our principles, and,
of course, we adopted the former. In 1827, the subject
came again before Congress, on a proposition favorable
to wool and woollens. We looked upon the system of
protection as being fixed and settled. The law of 1824
remained. It had gone into full operation, and, in re
gard to some objects intended by it, perhaps most of
them, had produced all its expected effects. No man
proposed to repeal it ; no man attempted to renew the
general contest on its principle. But, owing to subse
quent and unforeseen occurrences, the benefit intended
by it to wool and woollen fabrics had not been realized.
Events, not known here when the law passed, had taken
place, which defeated its object in that particular res
pect. A measure was accordingly brought forward to
meet this precise deficiency ; to remedy this particular
defect. It was limited to wool and woollens. Was ever
anything more reasonable ? If the policy of the tariff
laws had become established in principle, as the perma
nent policy of the government, should they not be re-

128 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
vised and amended, and made equal, like other laws, as
exigencies should arise, or justice require ? Because
we had doubted about adopting the system, were we to
refuse to cure its manifest defects, after it become adopt
ed, and when no one attempted its repeal ? And this,
sir, is the inconsistency so much bruited. I had voted
against the tariff of 1824 — but it passed ; and in 1827
and 1828, I voted to amend it, in a point essential to the
interest of my constituents. Where is the inconsistency ?
Could I do otherwise ? Sir, does political consistency
consist in always giving negative votes ? Does it require
of a public man to refuse to concur in amending laws,
because they passed against his consent ? Having voted
against the tariff originally, does consistency demand
that I should do all in my power to maintain an unequal
tariff, burdensome to my own constituents, in many res
pects, favorable in none ? To consistency of that sort,
I lay no claim. — And there is another sort to which I lay
as little — and that is, a kind of consistency by which
persons feel themselves as much bound to oppose a pro
position after it has become a law ofthe land, as before.
' The bill of 1827, limited, as I have said, to the sin
gle object in which the tariff of 1824 had manifestly
failed in its effect, passed the House of Representatives,
but was lost here. We had then the act of 1828. I
need not recur to the history of a measure so recent.
Its enemies spiced it with whatsoever they thought would
render it distasteful ; its friends took it, drugged as it
was. Vast amounts of property, many millions, had
been invested in manufactures, under the inducements
of the act of 1824. Events called loudly, as I thought,
for further regulation to secure the degree of protection
intended by that act. I was disposed to vote for such
regulation, and desired nothing more ; but certainly was
not to be bantered out of my purpose by a threatened
augmentation of duty on molasses, put into the bill for
the avowed purpose of making it obnoxious. The vote
may have been right or wrong, wise or unwise ; but it is
little less than absurd to allege against it an inconsis
tency with opposition to the former law.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 129
* Sir, as to the general subject of the tariff, I have
little now to say. Another opportunity may be present
ed. I remarked the other day, that this policy did not
begin with us in New England ; and yet, sir, New En
gland is charged, with vehemence, as being favorable,
or charged with equal vehemence, as being unfavorable
to the tariff policy, just as best suits the time, place, and
occasion for making some charge against her. The
credulity of the public has been put to its extreme capa
city of false impression, relative to her conduct, in this
particular. Through all the South, during the late con
test, it was New England policy, and a New England
administration, that was afflicting tbe country with a
tariff beyond all endurance ; while on the other side of
the Alleghany, even the act of 1828 itself, the very sub
limated essence of oppression, according to southern
opinions, was pronounced to be one of those blessings,
for which the West was indebted to the " generous
South." ' With large investments in manufacturing establish
ments, and many and various interests connected with
and dependent on them, it is not to be expected that
New England, any more than other portions of the coun
try, will now consent to any measure, destructive or
highly dangerous. The duty of the government, at the
present moment, would seem to be to preserve, not to
destroy ; to maintain the position which it has assumed ;
and, for one, I shall feel it an indispensable obligation to
hold it steady, as far as in my power, to that degree of
protection which it has undertaken to bestow. — No more
ofthe tariff.'
A slight, accidental circumstance in the life of Mr.
Webster, will show how necessary it is for a statesman
to be thoroughly acquainted with the whole history of
his country to the greatest minuteness. In the summer
of 1828, Mr. Webster visited the island of Nantucket,

130 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
upon professional business, but was so much struck
with the people and their place of residence, that he
took pains to get all the information about the place
and inhabitants he could readily find. He examined
the island, apparently only a mound of sand, to the
amount of twenty -three or four thousand acres, without
forests, or even a grove to be seen ; and only a few
single trees which seemed to have been planted in
doubt, and watched by care, without much faith in
their growth. Yet, on this seemingly barren island,
he ascertained that there were fifteen thousand sheep,
three or four hundred cows, and one hundred and fifty
horses, that wandered where they pleased from one
end to the other of this great pasture, summer and
winter, spring and fall, and all thrived on the scanty
grass which sprang up above the sand.
The inhabitants of this island he found a shrewd,
intelligent people, amounting to nearly eight thousand
souls, bearing all the strong marks of the primitive
simplicity of their ancestors ; and unlike, in many
respects, any other maritime people that history has
made us acquainted with. The island was settled in
1659 by emigrations from the towns of Salisbury and
Amesbury in the county of Essex, in Massachusetts.
Many of those settlers who came to the island the
second or third years after the proprietors (twenty-
seven in number) had taken possession of the island ;
and had fled from those towns from fear of the emissa
ries of Charles the Second, who pursued the friends and

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 131
adherents of Hugh Peters with unrelenting severity,
many of whom had come to Salisbury for security, but
thought it wiser to take a less noted place. The island
had been the favorite abode of a very large tribe of
Indians, which had been carried off by a sweeping
sickness that preceded the coming of the pilgrims.
The English emigrants, unfortunately, in their hatred
to a wilderness, felled the forest trees in order to extend
their crops of English grain and Indian corn ; but this
act of clearing all smoothly, in the course of half a
century, destroyed the island for tillage ; for, in the
long storms, the sand was blown across the island, and
the arable soil was so deeply covered with those dancing
atoms, that agricultural pursuits weie nearly abandoned,
and the inhabitants looked to the ocean for their sup
port. At the close of the seventeenth, or at the com
mencement of the eighteenth century, these islanders
¦began the whale fishery, which had been carried on at
Cape Cod for some time before. This was done in
boats of a shape that has given the name to a class
of boats now used for despatch, called ' whale boats.'
The whales became scarce along the shore, and larger
boats were built to pursue them both north and south.
In the wars the English and their colonies had with
France these islanders were exposed, and their busi
ness interrupted by privateers ; in fact, they were often
annoyed by the buccaneers in a previous age ; but,
notwithstanding every difficulty, the war of our revolu
tion found them rich and flourishing.

132 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
At this time, 1775, they had reached the coast of
Brazil, and were successful in taking whales there.
In 1791, they doubled Cape Horn, and pursued the
sperm-whale into the Pacific, near the equator, many
years with success. Within ten years past, finding
their prey diminishing in numbers on their old cruising
ground, and governed a little by that spirit of adven
ture, for which they not only acquired a reputation,
but great wealth, pushed westward and circumnavigated
the globe, in the ordinary course of their business.
Mr. Webster was delighted with the government and
economy of a whale-ship ; powers, duties, profits,
honors, all properly apportioned, and yet admirably
conjoined and brought to act with great energy and
effect. If one of their whale-ships does not bear the
majesty of national strength and glory around the globe,
it shows to every nation in every sea, what intelligence,
enterprise, industry and perseverance can effect. The
people abroad and the people at home are one. No
men are more fond of home than these voyagers ; they
come back to their sterile sands as to an Eden, for there
they left all they held dear to their hearts ; it is the
sweet Argos from whence they sailed for the golden
fleece ; and they obtained it without robbing any ol
their fellow men.
The people of Nantucket are intelligent, for these
whale-ships for nearly half the time while on their
voyage are, in truth, Lyceums, where mathematics
and natural history and general knowledge are taught.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 133
The log-books and journals of these whalers are well
kept; the hand-writing in these books is good, and the
reckonings admirably made, and every one does some
thing towards making a minute history of the voyage.
On the island of Nantucket, he met with a philoso
pher, mathematician, and an astronomer, in Walter
Folger, worthy to be ranked among the great discov
erers in science. His ancestors, for a long line, on the
island, have been distinguished for their knowledge of
mathematics. Folger has invented a telescope, second
only to Herschell's in power. This visit took deep
hold on the feelings of Mr. Webster ; it made a new
item in his historical treasures.
Not long after this tour to Nantucket, the people of
that island petitioned Congress for a breakwater, or
rather for an appropriation for a survey of the island
and the waters washing it; which at length settled
into an appropriation for deepening the channel to the
principal harbor of this island. For ages, all the large
vessels had to unload wholly or principally before they
could be brought to the wharves. This probably would
not have been brought about, if the information which
Mr. Webster had obtained on his visit, had not in his
forcible manner been concentrated and given to the
Senate. To them, it was as novel as an Arabian tale ;
and as they knew he never spoke without day and
date, words and figures, for proof, it satisfied all ; the
appropriation was voted for, and the work is going on
vvith success. 12

134 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
It is the duty of all statesmen to make themselves
acquainted not only with the general interests of the
community in which they live ; but also of the particu
lar interests of each section of it, in order that they
may assist when they should, and how they should.
It happens not to a few of them, as Caius Marius
alleged that it did to the Patrician generals of the
Roman army : they first procured the command of
armies, and then began to study the art of war. It
has not been so with Mr. Webster ; he has studied not
only every general interest and principle, but every
minute relation and bearing of those interests in the
nation ; and hence he has made himself a statesman
worthy of the country ; no lines, either of Mason,
Dixon, or Boone, ever bounded his course of duties.
He reasons for the country, and watches for the inter
ests of each and all ; for the raftsmen of the Penobscot,
or for the boatmen of the Mississippi ; for the merchant
of the seaboard, or the manufacturer of the interior ;
nor has he yet ever given to party those mental ener
gies, which were meant for mankind. He can say,
with justice and truth, what Mirabeau said of himself;
' I have been, I am, I will be to my grave, the man
of public liberty, the man of the constitution,' which
extends to all, deals equal favor to all, protects all, and
cannot be infringed without injuring all.
The intelligent mechanics of Boston having formed
an association, called the Boston Mechanics' Institution,
applied to Mr. Webster to give them a lecture at the

LIFE OF WEBSTER.

135

opening of the course in November, 1828. It might
be thought by some statesmen, and perhaps by some
scientific men, that Mr. Webster's course of education
had not prepared him for such a task ; but it must be
remembered, that he is a lawyer of more than twenty
years standing at the bar, and all this time has been in
extensive practice in the highest courts of the country,
in which not only constitutional questions are discussed,
but mercantile transactions, and questions requiring
broad views of almost every subject ; and none requir
ing more information than some of those important
trials upon patent rights. The lawyer, to do his duty
to his client, must be acquainted with the principles of
the mechanic arts, and sometimes also with the most
minute details of them. Mr. Webster has been engaged
in many of these patent causes, and to do his duty has
made himself master of the laws of motion and the
properties of matter far more accurately than any gen
eral reading would have done, for he has had often to
consult with the inventor, perhaps enter the workshop
and see every operation performed, in order to be able
to explain these things to courts and juries who pass
upon them. Mr. Webster was pleased to find such an
institution springing up in his own city, and was willing
to lend his aid for its success. These institutions, he
was well aware, refine the taste and strengthen the
intellectual powers of each member of the fraternity.
They are stimulants to exertion, for each one is unwill
ing to be thought inferior to his neighbor, and he stu-

136 life of Webster.
dies to be his equals, at least, and wisely thinks the"
ambition harmless, if he strive for the mastery in intel
lectual pursuits. Mind brought hi amicable collision!
with mind produces scintillations of thought that do not
expire as they are struck ont, but increase to a perma
nent light. In most intellects there are seeds of true
taste, and frequently of creative or imitative genius.
Warmed by honest emulation and spurred on by gener
ous rivalry, the younger portions of such associations
make great exertions to obtain knowledge, and when'
encouraged by their seniors are ready to communicate
it. Already in some other parts of our country, me
chanic associations have grown into mechanic institutes,
in which lectures are given on various branches of the
arts and sciences. When a practical artist becomes
scientific, he will soon find language to convey his
thoughts, if he finds it difficult at first to get words to
suit him. When these institutes are once established
they seldom retrograde ; there is an honest pride in such
bodies, that will not suffer them to fall off in their exer
tions. He who feels the pride of being an instructer, will
always be an indefatigable student himself. Youthful
aspirants for the lecturer's chair occasionally will come
forward in order to distinguish themselves. By this, the
arts will be benefited, and information diffused among
those who are not artists. If eloquence of a high order
is not to be obtained in a lecture room, good plain
speaking may be, and this is more valuable. Readi
ness and fluency follow clearness of perception, and

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 137
that order and method necessary in conveying our
thoughts on the laws of motion and power. The time,
we trust, is not far distant when we shall see the young
citizen pass from the workshop to the lecture-room as
a matter of course in his education ; and when the art
and mystery of a trade will be taught him with the
principles on which it is founded. It will not be ques
tioned, that, if such institutes were generally formed,
their influence would be generally felt in a moral point
of view. Many hours that are now spent by the
young mechanic in light amusements, by way of pre
paring himself for arduous labors, would be devoted to
science, or to letters, so necessarily connected with it.
Thus time would be saved ; money would be saved ;
and sometimes, perhaps, reputation would be saved ; and
most certainly, moral and intellectual weight would be
gained ; and weight of character is not gained in a day ;
it is made up by the honest occupation of many years
in youth and manhood, and can be preserved only by
the sound exercise of the understanding. This lecture
should be preserved as a model for compositions of this
kind ; not that many would reach the same standard,
but the imitation would be well. The model should
be far above what we expect to reach. The language
is just such as it should be on such a subject, and the
style of the composition precisely what Bacon would
have used had he lived to have been, with his great
genius, imbued with modem taste. There is no in
sinuating introduction, no appeal to the candor of his
12*

138 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
hearers, and all that unmeaning parade of courtesy ; but
after a sentence or two, he enters directly into his sub
ject, and bring3 forward his topics without ceremony.
He discusses motion as applied to change of place, to
animal life, the earth, the ocean, the air, to all the
physical objects which surround us, and is the exhaust-
less fountain from whence philosophy is drawn. He
proceeds to the grand distinction of man, his intellectual
powers, and shows that his formation was fitted to his
mind, for if he had not that wonderful instrument the
hand, he could not avail himself of his gifts ; and that
the brute creation, if raised to the equality of reasoning
man, could do but little without such an instrument to
assist them. He adverted to the ancients, and com
pared their knowledge with that of modern times. The
descriptive history and effects ofthe mechanical powers
and arts were his next topic, and in this he was most
happy. The useful subject, architecture, came also
under his consideration, and he pursued it in all its
forms ; but leaving all other parts of this fine lecture,
we extract that which relates to the mechanical arts.
' In the useful and practical arts, many inventions and
contrivances, to the production of which the degree of
ancient knowledge would appear to us to have been
adequate, and which seem quite obvious, are yet of late
origin. The application of water, for example, to turn
a mill, is a thing not known to have been accomplished
at all in Greece, and is not supposed to have been
attempted at Rome, till in or near the age of Augustus.
The production ofthe same effect by wind, is a still later
invention. It dates only in the seventh century of our

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 139
era. The propulsion of the saw, by any other power
than that of the arm, is treated as a novelty in England,
so late as in the middle of the sixteenth century. The
Bishop of Ely, Ambassador from the Queen of England
to the Pope, says, " he saw, at Lyons, a saw-mill driven
with an upright wheel, and the water that makes it go is
gathered into a narrow trough, which delivereth the
same water to the wheels. This wheel hath a piece of
timber put to the axletree end, like the handle of a brock,
(a hand organ,) and fastened to the end ofthe saw, which
being turned with the force of water, hoisteth up and
down the saw, that it continually eateth in, and the
handle of the same is kept in a rigall of wood, from
severing. Also the timber Iieth, as it were upon a ladder,
which is brought by little and little to the saw by another
vice." From this description ofthe primitive power-saw,
it would seem that it was probably fast only at one end'
and that the brock and rigall performed the part of the
arm, in the common use of the hand-saw.
' It must always have been a very considerable object
for men to possess, or obtain, the power of raising water
otherwise than by mere manual labor. Yet nothing like
the common suction-pump has been found among rude
nations. It has arrived at its present state only by slow
and doubtful steps of improvement ; and, indeed, in that
present state, however obvious and unattractive, it is
something of an abstruse and refined invention. It was
unknown in China, until Europeans visited the "Celestial
Empire ;" and is still unknown in other parts of Asia,
beyond the pale of European settlements, or the reach of
European communication. The Greeks and Romans
are supposed to have been ignorant of it, in the early
times of their history ; and it is usually said to have
come from Alexandria, where physical science was much
cultivated by the Greek school, under the patronage of
the Ptolemies.
' These few and scattered historical notices, gentle
men, of important inventions, have been introduced only
for the purpose of suggesting that there is much which

140 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
is both curious and instructive in the history of mechan
ics ; and that many things which to us, in our state of
knowledge, seem so obvious as that we should think they
would at once force themselves on men's adoption, have,
nevertheless, been accomplished slowly and by painful
efforts. ' But if the history of the progress of the mechanical
arts be interesting, still more so, doubtless, would be the
exhibition of their present state, and a full display ofthe
extent to which they are now carried. This field is
much too wide even to be entered, on this occasion.
The briefest outline even, would exceed its limits ; and
the whole subject will regularly fall to hands much more
able to sustain it. The slightest glance, however, must
convince us that mechanical power and mechanical skill,
as they are now exhibited in Europe and America, mark
an epoch in human history, worthy of all admiration.
Machinery is made to perform what has formerly been
the toil of human hands, to an extent that astonishes the
most sanguine, with a degree of power to which no
number of human arms is equal, and with such precision
and exactness as almost to suggest the notion of reason
and intelligence in the machines themselves. Every
natural agent is put unrelentingly to the task. The
winds work, the waters work, the elasticity of metals
work : gravity is solicited into a thousand new forms of
action : levers are multiplied upon levers : wheels re
volve on the peripheries of other wheels ; the saw and
the plane are tortured into an accommodation to new
uses, and, last of all, with inimitable power, and " with
whirlwind sound," comes the potent agency of steam.
In comparison with the past, what centuries of improve
ment has this single agent comprised, in the short com
pass of fifty years ! Everywhere practicable, everywhere
efficient, it has an arm a thousand times stronger than
that of Hercules, and to which human ingenuity is ca
pable of fitting a thousand times as many hands as
belonged to Briareus. Steam is found, in triumphant

LIFE OF WEBSTER, 141
operation, on the seas ; and under the influence of its
strong propulsion, the gallant ship,
" Against the wind, against the tide
Still steddies, with an upright keel."
It is on the rivers, and the boatman may repose on his
oars ; it is in highways, and begins to exert itself along
the courses of land conveyance ; it is at the bottom of
mines, a thousand feet below the earth's surface ; it is
in the mill, and in the workshops of the trades. It rows,
it pumps, it excavates, it carries,, it draws, it lifts, it ham
mers, it spins, it weaves,, it prints. It seems to say to
men, at least to the class of artisans, " Leave off your
manual labor, give over your bodily toif; bestow buf
your skill and reason to the directing of my power, and
I will bear the toil,: — with no muscle to grow weary, no
nerve to relax, no breast to feel faintness." What fur
ther improvements may still be made in the use of this
astonishing power, it is impossible to know, and it were
vain to conjecture. What we do. know, is, that it has
most essentially altered the face of affairs, and that no.
visible limit yet appears beyond which its progress is,
seen to be impossible. If its power- were now to be aih
nihilated, if we were to miss it on the water and in the
mills, it would seem as if we were going back to rude

' This society then, gentlemen, is instituted for the
purpose of further and further applying science to the
arts, at a time when there is much of science to be ap
plied. Philosophy and the Mathematics have attained
to high degrees, and still stretch their wings, like the
eagle. Chymistry, at the same time, acting in another
direction, has made equally important discoveries, ca
pable of a direct application to the purposes of life.
Here again, within so short a period as the lives of some
of us, almost all that is known has been learned. And
while there is this aggregate of science, already vast,
but still rapidly increasing, offering itself to the inge~
nuity of mechanical contrivance, there is a correspond.

142 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
ing demand for every work and invention of art, — pro
duced by the wants of a rich, an enterprising and an
elegant age. Associations like this, therefore, have ma
terials to work upon, ends to work for, and encourage
ment to work.'
On his return from Washington in the spring of
1829, Mr. Webster had the misfortune to lose his
brother, the Hon. Ezekiel Webster, a Counsellor at
Law in the State of New Hampshire. His death was
sudden and remarkable ; he fell and expired while in
the midst of an argument at the bar, without a sigh or
a struggle. No event could have been more unex
pected by the public, for he was one of those models
for a picture of health and strength, that Salvator Rosa
would have drawn in his mountain scenery, if he had
wished to exhibit a commander able to bear the fa
tigues and duties of council and of war. He was
lamented by his professional brethren, and sincerely
mourned by the community at large,
Ezekiel Webster was two or three years older than
his brother Daniel, but did not graduate until three
years after him, in 1804. In college, he was the first
in his class ; his intellect was of a very high order ; its
capacity was general, for he was able to comprehend
the abstruse and difficult, and at the same time to enjoy
the tasteful and the elegant, He was distinguished for
classical literature. His knowledge of Greek, particu
larly, was beyond that of his contemporaries in college ;
and this is almost an unqualified proof of taste, when
the study is pursued from a real fondness for the lan~

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 143
guage, and not merely for the pride of learning, or for
the rewards of superiority.
His knowledge of English literature was deep and
extensive, for he had not skimmed over books as a
matter of amusement, but he looked into them as a
man of mind, who intends to draw lessons from all he
reads. Few men among our scholars knew so much
of the English poets as he did, and he valued them
as he should have done, as philosophers and painters
of human nature, from whom much knowledge may be
obtained to illustrate and adorn what duller minds have
put into maxims and rules.
He made himself master of the law as a science,
and become well acquainted with its practice in his
native State. He went up to first principles with the
ease and directness of a great mind, and separated at
once that which was casual and local, from that which
is permanent and founded on the basis of moral justice
and the nature of man. There seemed no effort in
anything he did ; all was natural and easy, as if intui
tive. There was nothing about him of that little bust
ling smartness so often seen in ordmary persons, striving
to perform something to attract the attention of the little
world around them.
His general information was not only extensive, but
laid up in excellent order, ready for use. He was
steadily engaged in the duties of his profession, but
never seemed hurried or confused in his business. He
took all calmly and quietly. He did nothing for pa-

144 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
rade or show, or mere effect, nor did he speak to the
audience while addressing the court and jury. His
life was passed in habits of industry and perseverance ;
and his accumulations of wealth and knowledge were
regular and rapid. From the commencement of his
life as a reasoning being, responsible for his own actions
to the close ofit, he preserved the most perfect con
sistency of character ; no paroxysms of passion, no
eccentricities of genius were ever found in him. His
equanimity was only equalled by his firmness of pur
pose. In this he was most conspicuous ; he thought
leisurely and cautiously, and having made up his mind,
he was steadfast and immovable. Having no hasty or
premature thoughts, he seldom had occasion to change
his opinions, and was, therefore, free from those mor
tifying repentances, so common to superior minds of
warmer temperament. By honesty of purpose and
soundness of judgment he kept a just balance in weigh
ing all matters before him. All this firmness and equa
nimity, and other virtues, seemed constitutional, and
not made up by those exertions so necessary to most
frail beings, who intend to support a character for
steady habits. He was blessed with a frame that felt
few or no infirmities, such as weaken the nerves and
bring down the mighty in intellect to those degrading
superstitions that stain the brightness of genius and
destroy the high hopes of immortal beings, and make
them slaves to darkness and absurdity. He suffered
no moral or mental weakness in his whole path of

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 145
duty, for his constitution, until within a short time of
his death, exhibited a sound mind in a sound body,
and neither appeared essentially injured or decayed, to
the hour of his exit from this world.
He never sought public honors, nor literary or
political distinctions, and therefore had none of those
throes and agonies so common to vaulting ambition ;
not that he declined all public trusts, when he was
conscious that he could do any good to his fellow-men.
He was several years a member of one or other branch
ofthe Legislature of New Hampshire, and served as a
trustee of Dartmouth College. He was at different
times put up for a member of Congress, but it was at
periods when his friends thought that his name would
do some good to his political party, as the members of
Congress in New Hampshire are chosen by a general
ticket ; but when they were decidedly in power, he
would seldom or never consent to be a candidate.
This was much to be regretted, for he was admirably
calculated for public life by his extensive knowledge
and incorruptible integrity. He would have been a
first-rate speaker on the floor of Congress. His elo
quence was impressive and commanding. There was
in his delivery a slight defect in the labial sounds — in
the familiar use of his voice, which was rather pleasant
to the listener than otherwise, for it was a proof of a
natural manner ; but warmed by his subject, a more
rich, foil, and sonorous voice was seldom heard in any
public body ; not that his tones were delicate or mel-
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146 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
lifluous, but full of majesty and command, free from
arrogance, timidity, or hesitation. His gestures were
graceful, but not in the slightest degree studied ; his
language was rich, gentlemanly, select, but not pain
fully chosen ; he not only had words for all occasions,
but the very words he should have used.
As a writer he excelled in judgment and taste :
there was a classical elegance in his familiar writings ;
and his higher compositions were marked with that
lucid order and clearness of thought and purity of ex
pression, which distinguished the Augustan age. His
sentences were not grappled together by hooks of steel,
but connected by golden hinges, that made a harmo
nious whole. His library was rich in works of merit,
ancient and modern. The history of literature and
science was as familiar to him as that of his native
State, and he had the means of turning to it with much
greater facility.
He was an instance in point that a man may be a
good lawyer, and yet devote some of his time to class
ical pursuits.
Ezekiel Webster was one of those great men, rare
instances in the world, who had thrown away ambition ;
and who preferred to be learned and happy in his course
of life, rather than to court the gale and spread his sails,
to be wafted along on popular opinion. He sought
not popularity, but he had it ; that popularity which
follows, not that which is run after, He watched the
signs of the times, and was as good a diviner in politics

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 147
as any one ; but whatever the presages were, he looked
at coming events unmoved, leaving their results to
Heaven. For several ofthe last years of his life, he was cur
tailing his business in order to devote some portion of
the prime of his manhood to literary and scientific pur
suits, so congenial to his heart ; but in this he was
disappointed, for yet while in the fulness of his strength
he was called to leave the world, for whose benefit he
was formed. The ways of Providence are right, how
ever hidden the laws are from us. It is to be regretted
that one so able should have written so little as he has ;
probably he was waiting for those hours of leisure, in
which he was contemplating to form his plan of some
literary work. The writer of these remarks, — his class
mate and his friend, — once Suggested to him the history
of his native State as a subject for his pen, and the
thought did not seem unpleasant to him. In the boy
ish days of the writer, he undertook to translate Ana-
creon, and carried his productions daily for the correc
tions of his friend, whose mature mind gave the trans
lation all the finish it possessed.
No one he ever knew had a more admirable spirit
of criticism than Ezekiel Webster, united with that
generous indulgence which only great minds feel and
practice. A few months before he died, some sym-
toms of a disease of the heart were perceptible, but
not alarming to his friends, but he knew the uncertainty
of human life, and without any special command set his

148 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
house in order, and made preparation for his long jour
ney. There is a beauty in that calm, deep, silent, re
ligious feeling, that none but great and pure minds can
ever know. After having put all his worldly affairs
into a most perfect train for settlement at his death,
and wishing his friends to be free from all doubts
upon his religious impressions and belief, he sat down
and wrote his sentiments on this momentous subject,
which were found on his table after his death. This
was his last composition. How true it is, that the en
joyment of health, the accumulating of wealth, the pur
suits of science and the love of letters, and the world's
applause, sanctioned by the good man's benison, are
not sufficient for an immortal mind. All these things are,
in a great measure, connected with fellow mortals, and
are finite in their influences upon the mind, while reli
gion is a connexion with infinity, — with Deity, — it enters
into eternity, leaves time and sense to earth, and by
the bright inspirations of faith takes the sting from
Death, and from the grave its victory. A great mind
accustomed to ' long converse with the invisible world,*
and seeing, day after day, his friends falling around
him, breathes, as each descends to the tomb,
' How dreary is this gulph ! how dark — how void —
The trackless shores, that never were repass'd 1
Dread separation ! on the depth untry'd,
Hope falters, and the soul recoils aghast 1 —
1 Wide round the spacious heav'ns I cast my eyes ;
And shall these stars glow with immortal fire !
Still shine the lifeless glories of the skies !
And could thy bright, thy living soul expire ! —

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 149
'Far be the thought ! The pleasures most sublime,
The glow of friendship, and the virtuous tear,
The soaring wish that scorns the bounds of time,
Chill'd in the vale of death, but languish here.'
The adoption of the Constitution of the United States
was almost a miracle of itself. It was effected by the
perseverance of the first intelligence of the land. The
patriots who reasoned as well as felt, found all their
labors would be lost, if something towards concentrating
the energies and giving a uniformity to commercial
regulations were not effected. The whole matter was
a compromise, and but few were entirely satisfied.
There can be no doubt, but that a portion of the com
munity thought the Constitution was too feeble to last
long, they supposed that its tendency would be towards
democracy, and that after a while difficulties would
arise, such as it would be impossible to overcome.
Some believed that it would, from year to year, grow
more aristocratic, and therefore watched every thing,
excited by fear that all would be lost in the power of
the few. Between hopes and fears the machine went
on, to the wonder and satisfaction of almost every one.
The instrument was likened to the Amphictyonic league,
and considered as if there were something sacred about
it. Others said, that it was modelled on the principles
of the United Provinces ; and there was some truth in
that The framers of the old Confederation, no doubt,
had that compact in view when the States, by their
delegates, first assembled at Philadelphia; and there
were not a few who wished to find a resemblance in
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150 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
our government to that of the Swiss cantons. \\ hat-
ever each one thought, certain it is, that there were
some points of it differently construed by sagacious
men in different parts of the country ; but all seemed
to wish to give it a fair experiment. The power of the
judiciary was viewed with jealousy by the South and
many other parts of the country. Many portions of
our fellow-citizens reposed so much confidence in the
judiciary, that they thought all was safe while that
branch of the government was unassailed. The Supreme
Court had maintained a dignified course, not courting
Cases in which constitutional questions were involved,
but meeting them manfully when they were directly
brought before them. The East considered the embargo
an unconstitutional act, inasmuch as it annihilated,
instead of regulating commerce. This question was
freely discussed in the legislatures of some of the New
England States ; but whatever might be their opinions
on the subject, it was thought to be most constitutional
to bring the matter before the Supreme Judicial Court.
This was done, and its constitutionality supported.
The people of New England acquiesced. In 1816, a
tariff was laid by southern votes. There was no ob
jection made to the constitutionality of the law. In
1824, the Middle and Western States got up another
tariff bill, to a greater part of which the East was op
posed, and it was not carried by their votes. In 1826,
this bill was amended by the Middle States, aided by
New England, who had so far changed their business,

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 151
as to wish for that which they had been opposed to a
short time before. The course Mr. Webster took in
this change has been previously mentioned. The
South were enraged at this act, and saw ten., thousand
evils in it, that have not been realized and never will
be. In this excitement intemperate resolutions were
promulgated at several meetings in South Carolina;
and members of Congress in both houses from that
State, as well as from some other States, took every
opportunity to vent their indignation in debate, whether
the subject would strictly warrant it or not.
On the 29th of December, 1829, a resolution was
introduced into the Senate by Mr. Foote, respecting
the sale of public lands. The resolution was in the
following words : —
' Resolved, That the Committee on Public Lands
be instructed to inquire and report the quantity of public
lands remaining unsold within each State and Territory ;
and whether it be expedient to limit, for a 'certain
period, the sales ofthe public lands to such lands only
as have been heretofore offered for sale, and are now
subject to entry at the minimum price. And, also,
whether the office of Surveyor-General, and some of
the land offices may not be abolished without detriment
to the public interest ; or whether it be expedient to
adopt measures to hasten the sales and extend more
rapidly the surveys ofthe public lands.'
On the 18th of January, Mr. Benton, of Missouri,
addressed the Senate upon the subject, and took a wide

152 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
latitude in debate. On the 19th, Mr. Hayne pro
ceeded in the debate, and adopted all the strange doc
trines which Mr. Benton had avowed. He travelled
widely out of the true course of the debate, to find fault
with men and measures of former times, and particu
larly of the course pursued by the East on many occa
sions. On the 20th, Mr. Webster took the floor in
reply. He had intended to take no part in the debate,
for he could not have imagined that it would have
taken such a range ; but he felt that he was bound to
go out, though unarmed, when his views, his whole
course of political conduct, and that portion of the
country which gave him birth, were all so rudely treated.
The effect of this day's speech was powerful. He met
and answered Mr. Hayne's attack upon the policy of
the United States towards the purchasers of Western
lands, which Mr. Hayne seemed to think was hard,
rigorous and unfeeling. Mr. Webster proved that it
was not only just, but precisely what it ought to have
been, to build up the West solidly and prosperously.
He dwelt upon the arduous duties of the Government,
to plant these territories and defend them against the
most powerful tribes of Indians known on the continent.
To prove the vast amount of the expenses of these
frontiers, he pointed to the exertions and the sufferings
of Harman and St. Clair ; and for the wisdom of the
policy, to the growth, the magic growth, of Ohio. To
make it plain, he ran over the history of this growth,
and urged the claims of those who fought the battles of

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 153
the revolution to the lands in order to pay them for
their services.
Mr. Webster denied that the tariff belonged to the
East. New England was not the author of it. He
contended that she had ever been kind and generous
to the West, that her policy was liberal to the South
and West. He challenged a recurrence to all her
votes in those times, in which she was supposed to be
most unfriendly to the Western States, for the correct
ness of her conduct.
Mr. Benton replied to this speech, and Mr. Hayne
followed with no little excitement. He refused to
postpone the subject, and wished for an opportunity to
return the fire he had received. Mr. Webster's friends
asked for him some delay, as they knew his engage
ments in the Supreme Court at that time ; he, how
ever, wished the discussion to proceed. Mr, Hayne
then made a speech of great length, in which he en
larged his former accusations, and enforced anew his,
own doctrines. Mr. Webster followed.
In this speech, on the 26th of January, he turned
upon Mr. Hayne and threw back his sarcasms with
great dignity and effect. The North was ably vindi
cated, by the best of all possible methods, by appeal
ing directly to the history of past ages, and bringing up
her deeds from the commencement of the Government;
or, rather, before the Constitution was formed down to
the present day. All was clear as sunshine. The
clouds were swept away, if there were those who were

154 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
bewildered by assertion, or for a moment darkened by
erroneous statements made with the solemnity of truth.
Mr. Webster defended the Northern and Eastern States
in their course of conduct towards the West, particu
larly as that had been a second time the burthen of
Mr. Hayne's philippic.
Mr. Webster went through the charges against the
East, the Federalists, and all the sins of omission and
commission alleged against them, with fearless appeals
to the journals of the House and Senate, to every page
of information, within doors and without ; but without
any narrow spirit or sectional partialities. He paid
that homage to the illustrious men of South Carolina,
that a great mind always feels for departed genius and
worth, wherever born, or in whatever age their virtues
were stamped. He went farther, and expressed his
pride in calling ' the Laurenses, the Rutledges, the
Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Marions, Americans,
all — whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by State
lines, than their talents and patriotism were capable of
being circumscribed within the same narrow limits.'
His description of their patriotic course, — of their
deeds, — as united with the East, in the great revolu
tionary conflict, < when they went shoulder to shoul
der,' through the perils of the hour ; and when they
together rallied around the father of his country, ' and
felt his own great arm lean on them for support,' was
full of life and truth. The orator turned to Massachu
setts, but instantly left her alone in her glory. All

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 155
this was noble ; it showed the orator, the statesman,
and the able defender of all those who looked to him
for a just and fair representation of them and their his
tory ; who looked to him, also, as an advocate with the
world for their claims to pure republican principles
and patriotic exertions. He would not suffer his
friends to be charged with faults, without daring their
accusers to the proof; nor slandered without repelling
the falsehoods with an honest zeal for their fame.
Ages may pass away before such another opportunity
will be given for such another defence.
It was not this part of the oration, eloquent as it
was, abounding in almost every species of the divine
art, that made the most valuable portion of it ; it was
not the keen irony, the lucid explanation, the spirited
retort, the proud defence, the irresistible answer, that
this great production contained, that shall live the
longest among his fellow men. It is the foil, fair and
noble commentary on the Constitution, that is to run
onward as long as that Constitution shall last ; and to
survive it, if it should crumble to the dust, that will
exist forever, and be a standard for future ages. This
was not a commentary made by a theorist in his closet,
who had no practical knowledge on the subject ; no,
it was an examination made by a statesman, on the
floor of the Senate, before statesmen, in the hearing of
the country ; where the slightest error in fact would
have been corrected on the spot. What sages had
said, what politicians had suggested, and practical men

156 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
had effected, all came bursting from his memory in a
flood of light, and illumined all around him. He de
nied the doctrine that this Constitution was a compact
between the Thirteen States, which was binding on
them only as States, and on other States which might
be admitted into the Union ; but contended that it was
from the people, made by them, in their name, in their
natural capacity ; and that, as far as the States partic
ularly interfered in the formation of the instrument, was
only a method of getting the voices of the people.
The acts done under this Constitution were not to re
ceive their constructions from the opinions of any State,
but were to be tested, if disputed, by tribunals provided
for in the Constitution itself. He stated the doctrine
as held by the gentleman from South Carolina :
' I understand the honorable gentleman from South
Carolina to maintain, that it is a right of the State Legis
latures to interfere, whenever, in their judgment, this
Government transcends its constitutional limits, and to
arrest the operation of its laws.
' I understand him to maintain this right, as a right
existing under the Constitution, not as a right to over
throw it, on the ground of extreme necessity, such as
would justify violent revolution.
' I understand him to maintain an authority, on the
part of the States, thus to interfere, for the purpose of
correcting the exercise of power by the General Govern
ment, of checking it, and of compelling it to conform to
their opinion of the extent of its powers.
' I understand him to maintain, that the ultimate power
of judging ofthe constitutional extent of its own author
ity, is not lodged exclusively in the General Government,
or any branch of it ; but that, on the contrary, the States

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 157
may lawfully decide for themselves, and each State for
itself, whether, in a given case, the act of the General
Government transcends its power.
' I understand him to insist, that if the exigency ofthe
case, in the opinion of any State Government require it,
such State Government may, by its own sovereign au
thority, annul an act of the General Government, which
it deems plainly and palpably unconstitutional.'
These heads were examined singly, as they were
stated, and their fallacy exposed, and the sophistry that
supported them put down, by the strong hand of truth
and the power of reason. He showed the impractica
bility of carrying into effect the gentleman's mode of
testing the constitutionality of an act of Congress ; that
the very attempt would be treason, however sincere
and patriotic the intention. These speeches of Mr.
Hayne and Mr. Webster flew on ten thousand wings
to every part of the Union ; and the explanations and
elucidations of all and every part of the Constitution,
as given by Mr. Webster, were hailed by a great pro
portion of the freemen of the United States as full,
sound, just, and satisfactory. The people, as a body
of men, on abstract questions, are clear headed ; they
cannot be gulled or dazzled by any one, — with a noble
obstinacy they will judge for themselves. On a great
constitutional question, they never stop to ask to whac
party the expounder belongs, or from what section ofthe
country he came ; these are matters of after thought.
They avow their concordance of sentiment and opin
ion first, and then inquire from whence came the man,
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158 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
This speech was not only found in the columns of the
periodical journals, but assumed a more permanent
shape, and was purchased as a stock-book. It was
again read by young and old, and listened to by learned
and unlearned, — by women and children, — and discus
sed in every circle. It was impossible to do justice to
the speech by extracts taken here and there, as is
usual ; one might as well give the breadth and height
of the tower whose top reached towards the heavens,
by examining a Babylonish brick, as to give an idea of
the whole of this great argument by exhibiting a shred
or two of it. This tower of intellectual strength is re
served for a different fate from that erected on the
plains of Shinar ; for instead of confusing the minds
and confounding the language of men, it has brought
all the jarring tongues and different interpretations to
one voice and one construction upon the Constitution
of our country. Although we have forborne to make
extracts, for fear of injuring the force of the argument,
presented to the public, — which seems a sort of gal
vanic battery, in which by removing a single piece
you may weaken the force of the whole, — yet we may
take the closing paragraph, which makes a chaste and
beautiful ornament for the pillar on which he has rested
an item of his fame, to show something of his taste as
well as of his powers of reasoning.
' But, sir, what is this danger, and what the grounds
ofit? Let it be remembered, that the Constitution ofthe
United States is not unalterable. It is to continue in its

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 159
present form no longer than the people who established
it shall choose to continue it. If they shall become con
vinced that they have made an injudicious or inexpedient
partition and distribution of power, between the State
Governments and the General Government, they can alter
that distribution at will.
' If anything be found in the national Constitution,
either by original provision, or subsequent interpreta
tion, which ought not to be in it, the people know how
to get rid ofit. If any construction be established, un
acceptable to them, so as to become, practically, a part of
the Constitution, they will amend it, at their own sov
ereign pleasure, but while the people choose to maintain
it as it is, — while they are satisfied with it, and refuse to
change it, — who has given, or who can give, to the State
Legislatures, a right to alter it, either by interference,
construction or otherwise 1 Gentlemen do not seem to
recollect that the people have any power to do anything
for themselves ; they imagine there is no safety for them,
any longer than they are undsr the close guardianship oi
the State Legislatures. Sir, the people have not trusted
their safety, in regard to the general Constitution, to
these hands. They have required other security, and
taken other bonds. They have chosen to trust them
selves, first, to the plain words of the instrument, and to
such construction as the Government itself, in doubtful
cases, should put on its own powers, under their oaths of
offiee, and subject to their responsibility to them ; just as
the people of a State trust their own State Governments
with a similar power. Secondly, they have reposed their
trust in the efficacy of frequent elections, and in their
own power to remove their own servants and agents,
whenever they see cause. Thirdly, they have reposed
trust in the judicial power, which, in order that it might be
trust-worthy, they have made as respectable, as disinter
ested, and as independent as was practicable. Fourthly,
they have seen fit to rely, in case of necessity, or high
expediency, on their known and admitted power, to alter
or amend the Constitution, peaceably, and quietly, when-

160 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
ever experience shall point out defects or imperfections.
And, finally, the people ofthe United States have, at no
time, in no way, directly or indirectly, authorised any
State Legislature to construe or interpret their high in
strument of Government ; much less to interfere, by their
own power, to arrest its course and operation.
' If, sir, the people, in these respects, had done other
wise than they have done, their Constitution could neither
have been preserved, nor would it have been worth pre
serving. And, if its plain provisions shall now be disre
garded, and these new doctrines interpolated in it, it will
become as feeble and helpless a being, as its enemies,
whether early or more recent, could possibly desire. It
will exist in every State, but as a poor dependent on
State permission. It must borrow leave to be ; and will
be, no longer than State pleasure, or State discretion,
sees fit to grant the indulgence, and to prolong its poor
existence. ' But, sir, although there are fears, there are hopes also.
The people have preserved this, their own chosen Con
stitution, for forty years, and have seen their happiness,
prosperity, and renown, grow with its growth, and
strengthen with its strength. They are now, generally,
strongly attached to it. Overthrown by direct assault, it
cannot be ; evaded, undermined, nullified, it will not
be, if we, and those who shall succeed as here, as agents
and representatives of the people, shall conscientiously
and vigilantly discharge the two great branches of ourfc
public trust, — faithfully to preserve, and wisely to admin
ister it.
' Mr. President, I have thus stated the reasons of my
dissent to the doctrines which have been advanced and
maintained. I am conscious of having detained you and
the Senate much too long. I was drawn into the debate,
with no previous deliberation such as is suited to the dis
cussion of so grave and important a subject. But it is a
subject of which my heart is full, and i have not been
willing to suppress the utterance of its spontaneous sen
timents. I cannot, even now, persuade myself to relin*

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 161
quish it, without expressing once more, my deep convic
tion, that, since it respects nothing less than the union
of the States, it is of most vital and essential importance
to the public happiness. I profess, sir, in my career,
hitherto, to have kept steadily in view the prosperity and
honor of the whole country, and the preservation of our
Federal Union. It is to that union we owe our safety at
home, and our consideration and dignity abroad. It is
to that union that we are chiefly indebted for whatever
makes us most proud of our country. That union we
reached only by the discipline of our virtues in the se
vere school of adversity. It had its origin in the neces
sities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and
ruined credit. Under its benign influences, these great
interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and
sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its du
ration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its
blessings ; and, although our territory has stretched out
wider and wider, and our population spread farther and
farther, they have not outrun its protection or its benefits.
It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social,
and personal happiness. I have not allowed myself, sir,
to look beyond the union, to see what might lie hidden
in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed
the chances of preserving liberty when the bonds that
unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not
accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of dis
union, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom
the depth of the abyss below ; nor could I regard him as
a safe counsellor in the affairs of this Government, whose
thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how
the Union should be best preserved, but how tolerable
might be the condition of the people when it shall be
broken up and destroyed. While the Union lasts, we
have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out be
fore us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not
to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day, at
least, that curtain may not rise. God grant, that on my
14*

162 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
vision never may be opened what lies behind. When
my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the
sun in heaven, may I 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 ! — Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather
behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known
and honored throughout the earth, still full high ad
vanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original
lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star
obscured — bearing for its motto, no such miserable in
terrogatory, as What is all this worth ? Nor those other
words of delusion and folly, Liberty first, and Union
afterwards — but everywhere, spread all over in charac
ters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they
float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind
under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to
every true American heart — Liberty and Union, now and
forever, one and inseparable !'
It has fallen to the lot of Mr. Webster to have been
called upon to express his opinion upon all the great
. questions which have been agitated in the community
since he has been upon the stage. He has been too
cautious to obtrude a premature opinion on any sub
ject, but when his mind has been made up and when
properly called upon, he has always expressed himself
directly, without any of that double meaning so com
mon with political aspirants. On the great question
of the power given to Congress by the Constitution to
make internal improvements he has in many of his
speeches been explicit, but at the same time added,
that it was a power that should be most discreetly

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 163
used. The opposition to this doctrine is diminishing,
upon the conviction of its usefulness in extending the
beneficial effects of the General Government, particu
larly on the seaboard and frontiers.
Though it is not directly in his pathway as a lawyer,
he has been called upon to give his opinion upon the
subject of the abolishment of imprisonment for debt.
There has been no little bitterness of feeling upon this
question. The most zealous advocates for the aboli
tion, thinking to get all they asked for at once, would
not consent to proceed by degrees to the accomplish
ment of their wishes, as they should have done. They
were for knocking off all the shackles at once and be
free as air. In this, they showed more spirit than
prudence, or knowledge of human nature. The sup
porters of the iron system took advantage of the im
perative tone of their opponents, and by alarming the
timid and the doubtful still kept the majority in New
England on their side, — and sometimes, — a most mis
erable policy, — secured the bolts and bars of the prison
more closely; for break they must, — the decree of
common sense and sound policy has gone forth and
will be obeyed, however hard the struggle and despe
rate the fight.
The progress of liberal opinion has been gradual
even in New England, and many who were at first op^
posed to the abolishment of imprisonment are now
friendly to it, having examined the subject more tho
roughly. The liberal views of several of the first men

164 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
of New England on this subject, expressed many years
ago, ought not now to be forgotten. Thomas H. Per
kins, a most opulent merchant and a high minded
gentleman in Boston, ten or twelve years past, took
lead in attempting to ameliorate or repeal the laws
on imprisonment for debt in Massachusetts ; and
more than twenty years ago a refined and polished
scholar, and an honorable merchant, Benjamin Pick-
man of Salem, avowed the strange doctrine, for that
day, that there should be no imprisonment for the
honest debtor. His exalted moral purity and weight
of intellectual character, must have had some influence
even then, but he has lived to see his principles gain
ground ; and in many States obtain ultimate success.
Some years since, a benevolent society was formed
in Boston, which, among other matters, took up the
subject of imprisonment for debt. They began in the
right way to ensure ultimate success, and that was to
accumulate all the necessary facts to enlighten the
people. The investigation astonished themselves, for
this examination clearly proved that imprisonment in
stead of being a mean of coercing the collection of
debts was only disguised vengeance on the part of the
creditor in nine cases out of ten. These details they
spread before the public, and it must be confessed that
this has done more than arguments, in furtherance of
their benevolent views. Not resting here, they wished
to fortify themselves by the deliberate opinion of men,
who do and ought to give direction in no small degree

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 165
to public opinion, and they directed letters to several
gentlemen of distinction in Massachusetts, requesting
opinions upon certain propositions, which taken to
gether involved all the principles discussed in relation
to imprisonment for debt. Judge Jackson, Mr. E. Ev
erett, Mr. Webster, returned answers to the managers,
and although there is no probability that there was any
conceit among them, yet the spirit of their answers was
the same.
The public are much indebted to this society, for
they have not only measured and guaged the miseries
caused by oppressive laws and injurious practices,
but they have taken the best method of bringing about
reform. The facts stated by the great philanthropist,
Howard, collected in his tour of humanity, were a thou
sand times more valuable than his charities, which were
numerous and well bestowed. The disclosures that he
published, set the humane to thinking on and examin
ing the subject of the state of prisons ; he brought the
abuses of power home to every one by words and
figures. There can be no fear but that a moral people
will act right when they know the whole matter ; but
it is difficult to get at the truth, when there are so
many interested, as they think, to keep the truth out
of sight ; but the truth which has been so long con
cealed is now bursting upon us. We have been in
fluenced by exaggerated or fictitious fears, while we
were closing our eyes against real ones in our very
neighborhood. How many have wept over the.

166 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
wretched prisoner of State in the bastile ? The story of
the man in the iron mask has been told, until we were
almost suffocated with the pressure of the weight of the
machine upon our throats. We have followed the
condemned one over the Bridge of Sighs, and shrieked
in our reveries as we saw him enter the prison, never
more to return. These instances of cruelty are shock
ing to the feelings of a free and humane people, they
burn with indignation at such oppression, and are ready
for a crusade against such enormities. Why sleeps
the vengeance of God when such cruel scenes are
enacted ? is their exclamation. This is natural, this is
honest ; it is honorable to human nature ; but it would
be well for us to spare ourselves all these writhings of
sensibility for the bastile and the dungeons of Venice.
These prisons were not crowded ; for years they had
no inmates, — and seldom was there a State victim in
France or in Venice ; but in our land of freedom, hun
dreds and tens of hundreds have been jammed into
county jails, for paltry debts which they were unable
to pay ; and even kept there by the power of some
petty, heartless tyrant, until their spirits were broken,
and their health and morals destroyed, and no one
among us laid it to heart.
Let spendthrift folly be chastised by the law ; let
fraud be punished as severely as you will ; but in the
name of justice set free, after due examination, the
honest debtor, who has struggled to pay all he could,
and deplores that he can dp no more. There is hope

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 167
for the wretched, for humanity has penetrated the
darkest cells ofthe prison-house, and taken an inven
tory of all the miseries there to be known ; and this is
not all, strong voices, which must and will be heard,
are calling aloud to the people from every quarter, to
wrench the bolts, to burst the bars, and to demolish
the dark pile, where honest poverty is confined with
cut-throat villany, and reserve the dungeon alone for
the felon.
We are happy in pausing a moment in our progress,
from one public monument to another in the life of Mr.
Webster, to notice this subject, so deeply affecting the
community. To such men as have given their opinion freely upon
the questions which were proposed by this society, we
would say, as the father of mankind did to the celestial
messenger, who had freely answered many inquiries of
high import, ' Thou to mankind
Be good and friendly still, and oft return !'
Letter addressed to Rev. Louis Dwight, Secretary of the
Prison Discipline Society, on the Subject of Imprison
ment for Debt. Washington, May 2, 1830.
1 Sir, — I have received your letter of the 19th of April,
asking my opinion upon several questions, all relative to
the subject of imprisonment for debt. I am quite willing
to express my general opinions on that interesting sub
ject, although they are not so matured as to be entitled
to influence other men's judgments. The existing
laws, I think, call loudly for revision and amendment.
Your first four questions seek to know what I think of

168 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
imprisonment for small sums. I am decidedly against
it ; I would carry the exemption to debts of thirty or forty
dollars, at least. Individual instances of evil or hardship
might, I am aware, follow from such a change ; but I
am persuaded the general result would be favorable, in a
high degree, to industry, sobriety, and good morals, as
well as to personal liberty.
* You ask, in the next place, what I think of impris
onment for debt in any case where there is no evidence
of fraud. Certainly I am of opinion that there should
be no imprisonment for debt, where it appears that no
fraud has been practised, or intended, either in contract
ing the debt, or in omitting to pay it. But then, it seems
to me, that, when a man does not fulfil a lawful promise,
he ought to show his inability, and to show also that his
own conduct has been fair and honest. He ought not to
be allowed merely to say he cannot pay, and then to call
on the creditor to prove that his inability is pretended or
fraudulent. He ought to show why he does not and
cannot fulfil his contract, and to give reasonable evidence
that he has not acted fraudulently ; and, this being done,
his person ought to be held no longer. In the first place,
the creditor is entitled to the oath of his debtor, and, in
the next place, to satisfactory explanation of any suspi
cious circumstances.
' There are two sorts of fraud, either of which, when
proved, ought to prevent a liberation of the person, viz. :
fraud in contracting the debt, and fraud in concealing,
or making way with, the means of payment. And the
usual provisions of the bankrupt act ought to be added,
that no one should be discharged, who is proved to have
lost money in any species of gaming ; and I should in
clude, in this class, all adventurers in lotteries. Having
tendered his own oath, and made just explanation of any
circumstances of suspicion, if there be such, and not
having lost money by gaming, the debtor ought to be dis
charged at once ; which answers another of your ques
tions ; for the detention of thirty days, before the oath
can be taken, appears to me wholly useless.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 169
8 You are pleased to ask whether, in my judgment,
Christians can, with a good conscience, imprison either
other Christians or infidels ? He would be very little of a
Christian, I think, who should make a difference, in
such a case, and be willing to use a degree of severity
towards Jew or Greek, which he would not use towards
one of his own faith. Whether conscientious men can
imprison anybody for debt, whom they do not believe
dishonest or fraudulent, is a question which every man,
while the law allows such imprisonment, must decide for
himself. In answer to your inquiry, whether I have
found it necessary to use such coercion, in regard to
debts of my own, I have to say, that I never imprisoned
any man for my own debt, under any circumstances;
nor have I, in five and twenty years' professional practice,
ever recommended it to others, except in cases where
there was manifest proof, or violent and unexplained
suspicion, of intentional fraud.
' Imprisonment for debt, my dear sir, as it is now
practised, is, in my judgment, a great evil ; and, it
seems to me, an effectual remedy for the larger part of
the evil is obvious. Nineteen twentieths of the whole
of it would be relieved, in my opinion, if imprisonment
for small debts were to be abolished. That object I be
lieve to be attainable ; and to its attainment, I think,
the main attention of those who take an interest in the
subject should be directed. Small credits are often
given, on the confidence of being able to collect the debt
by the terrors of the jail ; great ones, seldom or never.
'Three simple provisions would accomplish all, in my
opinion, that may be considered as absolutely required to
a just state of the law, respecting imprisonment for debt
in Massachusetts.
' I. That no imprisonment should be allowed, when
the debts, exclusive of costs, did not amount to $30.
' 2. That there should be no necessity of imprisonment
for thirty days, as preliminary to taking the poor debtor's
oath ; nor any longer detention than such as is necessary
to give parties notice, and time to prepare for examina-
15

170 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
tion ; and that a convenient number of magistrates, in
every county, should, for the purpose of administering
the oaths, be appointed by the government ; and that
such magistrates should be clothed with such further
powers as might be thought expedient, in order to enable
them to make a thorough investigation of the fairness or
fraud of the debtor's conduct.
' 3. That in cases where the debtor had been dis
charged, if the creditor would make oath to newly dis
covered evidence, proving original fraud, or, to his be
lief, that the debtor had subsequently received property,
and concealed or withheld the same from his creditors,
it should be competent to such creditor to have investi
gation of such charge, and, if made out, to have execu
tion against the person, and if not made out, that the
creditor should pay the cost of the proceeding.
' Other provisions might doubtless be useful ; but if
these three alone could be obtained, they would, in a
great measure, clear the jails of debtors, and give general
satisfaction, I have no doubt, to creditors.
' I ought to add, that the imprisonment of females in
the common jails, for mere debt, is a barbarism which
ought not to be tolerated. Instances of such imprison
ment, though rare, do yet sometimes occur, under cir
cumstances that shock every humane mind. In this res
pect, the law ought, in my judgment, to be altogether
reformed.' In an earlier part of this memoir, we noticed some
few of the forensic speeches of Mr. Webster, but a very
small number of them only could be named or noticed
with critical remarks, even if this work were extended
to half a dozen volumes, and we had the notes from
which they might be taken ; for he has now been twenty-
six years at the bar, and in full practice in higher and
in inferior courts also a portion of the time, and in that

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 171
period he has argued more than a thousand causes of
importance, besides an immense number of those which
are necessarily forgotten with the common business of
the day. Many of those, both of the greater and the
lesser kind are lost, irrevocably lost, but their effects
on court and jury will be long remembered. Some of
them, no doubt, made when there were no restraints
upon him, and when in the hours of health and spirits,
had as much power and more brilliancy than his efforts
made in high places with reporters at his elbow. The
world has been favored but with few volumes of for
ensic eloquence, in comparison with the number of
speeches preserved from the debates of deliberative
bodies. One reason for this scarcity has been, that
these productions do not always convey the honest
dictates of the speaker's understanding, and of course
satisfied with whatever ingenuity he may have exhibit
ed at the time, or with the praise he may have re
ceived, he is not desirous that his argument should be
preserved ; and when he, and his friends are satisfied
that his logic is sound and his argument felicitous, it is
difficult to preserve an extemporaneous speech, unless
there be some strong inducement for the speaker to sit
down and write it out from his notes, and it would be
almost impossible for one in full practice to do this
often. The late Judge Parsons who for more than
thirty years held the first rank at the bar of Massachu
setts, and with it the reputation of being among the
greatest geniuses and profoundest scholars of the world,

172 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
has not left, as far as is now disclosed, a page of any
argument he ever made before court or jury, and the
evidences of his greatness rest on his judicial opinions
as a Chief Justice, an office which he only held about
seven years previous to his death. Parsons lived in a
time when the great elements which are incorporated
with our national Constitution were coining into form
and substance, and he was one of the most powerful
agents in giving it the noble stamp it has borne ever
since. Yet nothing is to be found of this great man's
forensic eloquence on paper ; it lives only in the mem
ories of those who loved him, and were so fortunate as
to have heard him at the bar. Of the forensic eloquence
of Dexter only a few shreds of speeches remain. Of all
their predecessors of mighty name and long life in New
England, you might as well ask the sea to give up its
dead, as to inquire for what they said on the most vital
occasions. Oblivion has devoured them all, and hardly
has their plunge into the abyss of the great destroyer
been remembered. Not ten of Mr. Webster's speeches
at the bar, have, even in this more careful age, been
saved, unless he has preserved them himself, which is
not in the least probable, as those who perform the
most have the least time to record their doings. The
few which have been saved, have in general, had some
bearings upon State rights, or were connected with some
popular excitement. Three or four of them we have
mentioned, and to which may be added, the speeches
in the case of Gibbons against Ogden, and Ogden

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 173
against Saunders. These have been spread over the
country by the public journals, and their points and
bearing are so well known that it is not necessary to
give an analysis of them.
One forensic exertion which was made by Mr. Web
ster, when acting as counsel for the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts, on a trial of certain persons charged
with the murder of Captain Joseph White, of Salem,
should not pass unnoticed in this memoir, as the event
was one of the most extraordinary nature in the annals
of our country ; and the part he bore in it was not a
little conspicuous. On the 7th of April, 1830, Mr.
White, an aged citizen of Salem, in the county of Es
sex, in Massachusetts, was found dead in his bed, hav
ing been murdered during the previous night by some
vile assassin. The crime produced the most astonish
ing excitement ever known in that peaceful commu
nity. The town of Salem is one of the most quiet
places in the country. It is among the second class of
cities in point of population, and among the very first
in regard to the moral habits of its inhabitants. The
people there, almost from its early days, had slept
quietly in their beds, almost without bolts and bars, nor
had they hardly thought of them as things of security
against any one but petty thieves. The murderers had
remained for some time in secret, and not the most dis
tant clue could be found to unravel the mystery, which
seemed to shroud the whole affair. Not any thing was
taken from the house of the deceased. His last will
15*

174 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
was found untouched in his chamber. Strong suspi
cions were raised against the inmates of the house and
of the family, from these singular circumstances. The
first person thought of as the murderer, was the son of
the housekeeper of Mr. White, who was also his rela
tion, but on examination he was acquitted, having
clearly proved himself to have been in another place
when the deed was done. Many persons for a while,
suffered in their feelings, by cruel suspicions, most of
them spread abroad by those involved in the guilt of
blood and murder, as was afterwards discovered, prin
cipally by the prime mover of the whole scene, a
wicked and shallow man, who attempted to pursue a
bold course to screen himself and his associates by
scattering rumors, and by forging letters to draw suspi
cions on others, and particularly on the favorite nephew
of the deceased, the Hon. Stephen White, who had
been brought up, as it were, in the old man's bosom.
These rumors were not believed for a moment by
those acquainted with that gentleman. He had from
his early youth been a favorite with the people among
whom he lived as well as with his uncle. He had at
an early age been honored by the suffrages of his fel
low-citizens as a representative of the town in the Le
gislature, and soon afterwards was chosen a Senator of
the large and respectable county of Essex, — -a county
where the people are most scrupulous of the moral
qualifications of their men in office. He had also been
elected a counsellor to advise the Supreme Executive

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 175
of the Commonwealth. As a merchant and a man of
business, there was not a more honorable person in the
community in which he lived ; nor had a shadow of
complaint or suspicion ever rested on his fame. This
vile attempt to injure him among others, who did not
thoroughly know him, seemed to his friends worse than
a second murder, and so inflamed the public mind, that
every man and child started upon the alert to hunt out
if possible, the perpetrators of the accursed deed, and
the vile slanderers together ; but more than a month
elapsed before anything leading to the discovery of the
murderers happened. Providence at length directed
to the track of guilt and blood, and four or five sus
pected persons were arrested. These were Richard
and George Crowninshield, John Francis Knapp, and
Joseph J. Knapp, and one other. The public were at
first satisfied of the guilt of some of them, and this opin
ion was confirmed from the confessions of J. J. Knapp,
and from the fact of the suicide of Richard Crownin
shield, which soon followed ; he was supposed to have
been the principal actor in the scene, and it was after
wards proved, that he inflicted the blows which caused
the death of Mr. White. After Crowninshield's self-
murder, some difficulties arose in the minds of legal men
in regard to the doctrines of principals and accessaries,
— and surely the difficulties were not slight ones. The
accused had employed men, of talent in their defence,
—Franklin Dexter and William H. Gardiner, Esqrs.
gentlemen of the Suffolk bar, were engaged as counsel

176 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
for Francis and Joseph J. Knapp. The Attorney-
General was an old man, who had attained his eightieth
year, and had no living compeer at the bar, and al
though bright in intellect, and still retaining much of
the high spirit and attractive eloquence of his younger
days, yet he and his friends were fearful that his corpo
ral strength would not be sufficient for the occasion,
and the second public prosecutor was indisposed, and
it was thought proper by all interested in the event of
the trial, to engage Mr. Webster on the part of the
Government, a common thing in many other States,
and not without precedent in Massachusetts. The
Court by a special act of the Legislature was held in
tbe oppressive heat of July. A speedy trial was ne
cessary, in order to allay the excitement which gene
rally prevailed. This special Court was attended by
a most melancholy circumstance, for scarcely had the
learned and admirable Chief Justice, the Hon. Isaac
Parker, taken his seat, and given his charge to the
Grand Jury, than he was called to leave this world.
His death was deeply felt, for he was in the fulness of
his usefulness, — not yet old, but he had twenty-four
years' experience as a Judge on the Supreme Bench.
At this distressing event the paroxysm of rage and in
dignation at guilt and blood were commingled with the
tears of a bereaved community. The Hon. Leverett
Saltonstall, President of the Essex bar, in offering
some appropriate resolutions, made a most feeling and
eloquent speech upon the death of the Chief Justice,

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 177
which contained a just and spirited sketch of that dis
tinguished jurist and excellent man. This 'dew-drop
of grief is an intellectual gem, which will shine
through all the annals of the Bench and Bar, with
those scattered by the deceased, among the urns of his
distinguished predecessors. The Court adjourned until
the 4th of August, when they again proceeded to then-
painful duties, — and one of the prisoners, John Francis
Knapp, was put on his trial. Every inch qf ground
was contested by the prisoner's counsel with great
ability and eloquence. They were of that age which
fears no fatigue, and sufficiently experienced at the Bar
not to suffer anything of law or evidence which could
make in favor of the prisoner to escape them. They
knew their duty and most faithfully and ably discharged
it. The trial was protracted and painful, — point after
point was contested to the utmost extent. At times
there was no little chafing among the advocates, — all
of which, however, passed away with the hour and the
occasion. The trial lasted for many days, and ended
in a disagreement of the jury, after having been out
twenty-four hours. This added to former difficulties,
made the contest sickening, but neither side could, or
would yield ; there was more felt than expressed. A
new jury was impannelled and the trial went on, fatigued
and worn down as all parties were. Bayed and crowded
as he was,^and this was all right in favor of human
life^— Mr. Webster's exertions were acknowledged to
have been of the highest order Qf intellectual display.

178 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
He was armed at every point, and fought as one de
termined for victory ; and he had no greater admirers
than his honorable opposers. In the midst of his agi
tation there were not a few who thought that he was
lending his great strength to break down those safe
guards of the law, made by the wisdom of ages for the
protection of individuals ; but sober reflection has cor
rected this error, and the sound judgment of the com
munity has decided, that he struggled to prevent jus
tice from being strangled in the nets of forms. But
however this may be, it was his duty as a public pros
ecutor, to press every point in favor of Government in
such a case ; for on the Court the responsibility rested
at last. There have always been, and ever will be
difficulties, in relation to the doctrine of confession ;
they arose in this case, but happily were surmounted ;
and public justice was satisfied in the ignominious death
of three wretches concerned in the murder. Mr. Web
ster's speech on this occasion in summing up the case,
is one not only of deep feeling, but also of sound rea
soning upon the testimony. The mass of facts was put
together in such an able and workmanlike manner, as
to bring conviction to every mind of the guilt of the
accused. The tale told ever so coldly had eloquence
enough in it to move hearts of stone. He had no oc
casion to vindicate his friend ; to be ready to do it, if
in any way necessary, was probably the principal mo
tive of his engaging in the cause. The advocate and
friend was ready to put the reputation of the favorite

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 179
nephew of the deceased into every form of ordeal re
quired by the most suspicious. He was as sure of its
purity as of his existence.
A word or two in stating some few of the prominent
facts, as developed in the several trials, may not be un
acceptable to the reader, if they should not so directly
relate to the part Mr. Webster had in this trial. It is
to be hoped for humanity's sake that this trial will long
stand alone on the callendar of crimes in our country.
The deceased was childless. He had accumulated a
large fortune in early life, and been increasing it by
careful habits of business. He had nephews and
nieces, and some of them had; children. These were
objects of his care and bounty, and if they did not
share alike, they were all patronized as his kindred, in
such a manner as he thought proper. He had his par
tialities, and he did not hesitate to show them. His
nephew, Stephen White, in early life found favor in his
eyes, and never for a moment lost his affection. The
old gentleman, generally, kept a will by him, and the
fact was known, nor did he wish to keep it a secret to
his friends ; nor was it doubted but that Stephen White
was a legatee in it, a much larger one than any other
relation. A grand-niece of Mr. White's, Miss Beck-
ford, had married a Captain Joseph J. Knapp, Jr. He
had been in Stephen White's employment as master
and factor of a ship, but the owner finding that he
wanted capacity in his profession, did not continue him
in his service. This probably excited some heart-

180 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
burnings, which were not allayed by any subsequent in
tercourse among the family connexions. The mother
of Knapp's wife, Mrs. Beckford, was house-keeper to
Mr. White. Of course the prime mover of this mur
der had access to the house as he chose. He was
living in idleness ; the affairs of his father were falling
into embarrassment, which fact was probably well
known to him. Captain White, although old, was
healthy, and seemed formed to live some years, if no
accident should take him off; and even when he might
die, it was understood that much of his property would
go by will to Stephen White, and he was an object of
his envy and resentment;' In this state of feeling the
diabolical thought of destroying the will of old Mr.
White and of taking his life came into his mind. He
conceived the deed, but he had not energy enough to
execute it. The proposition to kill the old man was
made by him to his brother, a youth of nineteen, who
reekless of the consequence of most deeds of daring,
was not quite firm enough for this act. But on refus
ing to undertake the affair alone, he named a com
panion who would do the deed for a handsome com
pensation. This companion was Richard Crowninshield,
an abandoned youth, full of hardihood and daring, who
was prowling about in the community, with a mind
made for any act at a price. Crowninshield had a
younger brother in his train. To Richard Crownin
shield the prime mover made application, who named
his price, and set about carrying the deed into effect.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 181
As a preliminary step, the will was to be stolen ; but as
villany is often short-sighted, the will, thus purloined by
Knapp, was not the last will of the deceased, but one
made a year prior thereto, and the fact that any will
was stolen was not known until Knapp's confession dis
closed the circumstance ; the prior will having, as was
supposed, been long before destroyed by the deceased.
When this was supposed to have been effected, all
things were ready for the bloody deed. A club loaded
with lead was made for the purpose, and a dagger
pointed. On the night ofthe 6th of April, in the early
part of the evening, in the first watches of the sleep of
the aged, the assassin entered the house, Mrs. Beck-
ford being absent, and perpetrated the deed, with all
the calmness of one who had long been familiar with
crime ; for he felt the pulse of the murdered man, to
discover if perchance any scintillations of life remained,
and finding none, he then retired without trepidation or
contrition. The wages of crime were partly paid, and
he was waiting for the remainder. He wiped his poig-
nard, kept quiet, and would have been secure, if the
secret had not been in the keeping of others, less hardy
in villany than himself. The prime mover and his
brother in their course were restless and agitated, and
over acted their parts. They swaggered, got up self-
robberies, wrote anonymous letters to implicate others,
and especially Mr. Stephen White. If the Salem
people were greatly excited, they were still keen-eyed,
and let nothing escape them. While only suspicions
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182 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
were directed to the perpetrators of the murder, and no
one dared do more than to whisper his thoughts into
his neighbor's ear, they were detected by one, if not of
the associates in this crime directly, yet, by one who
was of Crowninshield's banditti, and who in his pecu
niary wants addressed himself to the murderers for a
fee for silence. They thought themselves sufficiently
secure to throw away all true precaution, and they put
the means of detection into the hands of those on the
scent for them. One Palmer, the person alluded to,
of tho Crowninshield party, directed a letter, as he
thought, to the prime mover of this foul deed, which
fell into the hands of his father, for want of the addition
of the word junior to the superscription, and on this
being shewn to the son, he with an appearance of in
nocence, laughed at it as a shallow device of some
worthless fellow, who wanted to get money out of him ;
and his father, probably, not doubting his innocence,
gave the letter to the Committee of Vigilance, who
took the proper steps to find the writer of this letter,
which they were right in conjecturing was signed with
a fictitious name. The letter was signed Grant, but
the writer's name was Palmer. On his production and
confession, the storm burst on the heads of the Knapps ;
they were apprehended, examined and committed for
trial ; the Crowninshields had been previously com
mitted on suspicion, which was supported by some
striking circumstances unconnected with the confessions
and declarations of Palmer. J. J. Knapp confessed

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 183
his guilt, and stated the names of his accomplices on
promise of pardon, or rather on the promise of being
purged by being made a witness ; and Richard Crown
inshield hearing of J. J. Knapp's confession, and think
ing there was no chance of escape, committed suicide
in prison. Francis Knapp, was, as we have stated,
tried in August, and was convicted as a principal, and
J. J. Knapp in November ; he having refused to testify
on the trial of his brother, forfeited the pledge of pro
tection from the public prosecutor. Both suffered, the
community were satisfied; the agitation ceased; but
still it will be a tale of wonder in all future generations ;
for it has no parallel in history. Murders are often
committed for revenge and hatred, by desperadoes
in want ; but whenever did young men of respectable
connexions and education, form and carry into effect
such a cold-blooded and deliberate murder? Impa
tient avarice was at the bottom ofit; spendthrift villany
executed it with a callous heart and an icy hand ;
and youthful depravity was brought in to assist in dis
cussing the subject, in every stage of its guilt. It was
discovered by no contrition or repentance. All the
marks of moral turpitude which were stamped on the
deed at first, will remain on it forever, there was nothing
washed away, — no stain lessened by tears, even of the
softening of our natures, to say nothing of true repent
ance. It is to be forever a dark and terrible story, it
will be the ground-work of a hundred legends. Its
criminality cannot be exaggerated, nor will its moral

1 84 LIFE OF WEBSTER*
ever be lost ; it will show the guilty that there is but
little security, and no peace for them ; it will teach
the public, that justice is often much indebted to
talents and professional skill in bringing rank offend'
ers to a just 'judgment. The good effects will not
close here ; it will give the virtuous a lesson of sustain
ing fortitude when assailed by cruel slanders ; and it
will show him, also, how much brighter shines that
character which has been tried and stood the test.
In February, 1831, while Mr. Webster was at Wash
ington, several distinguished gentlemen of the city of
New York sent him an invitation to partake of a pub
lic dinner in the city, at such time as he should appoint.
This invitation and acceptance is taken from the jour
nals of the day, and are unquestionably authentic.
New-York, Feb. 23, 1831.
To the Hon. Daniel Webster,
Sir — Your distinguished public services on a great and
trying occasion at the last session of Congress in vindi
cating the principles of the Constitution, and the powers
of the General Government have given you a just title to
the lasting gratitude of your country.
A number of the citizens of New York deeply im-.
pressed with the value and success of these efforts have
expressed an earnest desire to unite in offering you some
public mark of their respect, and we have been deputed
to ask the honor of your company at a public dinner in
this city, at such time as your convenience will permit,
and as you may be pleased to designate.
We have the honor to be,
Your obedient servants.
Richard Varick, B. Robinson, John Hone, John S.
Crary, Wm. Johnson, Henry I, Wyckoff, David Hosack,

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 185
George Newbold, I. Bronson, Charles Wilkes, Lynde
Catlin, James G. King, George Griswold, Nathaniel
Richards, Stephen Whitney, John A. Stevens, Jonathan
Goodhue, Frederick Sheldon, Nicholas Fish, David B.
Ogden, H. Maxwell, C. H. Russell, Cyrus Perkins, James
Kent, Robert Troup, William W. Woolsey, Peter A. Jay,
Benjamin L. Swan, J. Boorman, Frederick A. Tracy, fl.
Beekman, John B. Lawrence, John Haggerty, Valentine
Mott, Isaac S. Hone, Edward M. Greenway, David Lydig,
E. M. Berryman, Richard M. Lawrence, John L. Law
rence, Cornelius W. Lawrence, Morgan Lewis, William
Slosson, R. Sedgwick, Thomas G. Cary, Seth P. Staples.

Washington, March 1, 1831.
Gentlemen, I have received your letter of the 23d February, invit
ing me to a Public Dinner as a mark of your respect, for
efforts made by me on a recent occasion, which you are
kind enough to think were of some value to the country.
It is impossible for me not to be highly gratified, by
perceiving that a favorable estimate has been placed by
you on any public service of mine.
I accept, gentlemen, with great pleasure your proffered
civility ; and since you leave the time to be fixed by me,
would observe, that I shall probably be in New York on
the 24th instant. If agreeable to you that may be the
day. I have the honor to be, with true regard,
Your obedient servant,
DANIEL WEBSTER.
To the Hon. James Kent, Morgan Lewis, Richard Varick, Peter A.
Jay, &c. &c.
The dinner was given on the 24th of March. This
was done without, distinction of parties. The lovers of
talent and patriotism were united in this tribute of res
pect to one, who had so ably expounded the principles
of the Constitution of the United States, and one who
16*

186 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
always soared above party when anything national was
to be considered.
Chancellor Kent presided at this dinner, assisted by
Peter A. Jay, John Hone, and Edward M. Greenway,
as Vice-Presidents. It was highly gratifying to every
reasonable man, to every good patriot, to see so many
gentlemen of different politics, in party times, sitting at
the same board in harmony and good-fellowship. The
toasts and speeches were free from any tinge of party
feeling, and all liberal, patriotic, and unexceptionable
in every respect. The illustrious President, known to
the world as a judge, a chancellor and a scholar, in
equity and jurisprudence, in the first ranks of those
who have benefited the world by their decisions and
commentaries, made an elegant speech complimentary
to the guest, as introductory to a toast.
' The President, Chancellor Kent, called the attention
of the gentlemen to a toast, to which he was sure their
judgments and their hearts would respond.
' New England had been long fruitful in great men,
the necessary consequence of the admirable discipline of
her institutions ; and we were this day honored with the
presence of one of those cherished objects of her attach
ment and pride, who has an undoubted and peculiar title
to our regard. It is a plain truth, that he who defends
the Constitution of his country by his wisdom in council,
is entitled to share her gratitude with those who protect
it by valor in the field. Peace has its victories as well
as war. We all recollect a late memorable occasion,
when the exalted talents and enlightened patriotism of
the gentlemen to whom he had alluded, were exerted in
the support of our national Union, and the sound inter
pretation of its Charter. If there be any one political

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 187
precept pre-eminent above all others, and acknowledged
by all, it is that which dictates the absolute necessity of
a union of the States under one government, and that
government clothed with those attributes and powers
with which the existing Constitution has invested it.
We were indebted, under Providence, to the operation
and influence of the powers of that Constitution, for our
national honor abroad and for unexampled prosperity at
home. Its future stability depended upon the firm sup
port and due exercise of its legitimate powers in all their
branches. A tendency to disunion — to anarchy among
the members, rather than to tyranny in the head — had
been heretofore the melancholy fate of all the federal
governments of ancient and modern Europe. Our Union
and national Constitution were formed as we have hitherto
been led to believe under better auspices and with im
proved wisdom. But there was a deadly principle of
disease inherent in the system. The assumption, by
any member of the Union, of the right to question and
resist, or annul, as its own judgment should dictate, either
the laws of Congress, or the treaties, or the decisions of
the federal courts, or the mandates of the executive
power, duly made and promulgated as the Constitution
prescribes, was a most dangerous assumption of power,
leading to collision and the destruction of the system.
And if, contrary to all our expectations, we should here
after fail in the grand experiment of a confederate gov
ernment, extending over some of the fairest portions of
this continent, and destined to act, at the same time,
with efficiency and harmony, we should most grievously
disappoint the hopes of mankind, and blast forever the
fruits ofthe revolution.
' But, happily for us, the refutation of such dangerous
pretensions, on the occasion referred to, was signal and
complete. The false images and delusive theories which
had perplexed the thoughts and disturbed the judgments
of men, were then dissipated in like manner as spectres
disappear at the rising of the sun. The inestimable value
of the Union, and the true principles of the Constitu-

188 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
tion were explained by clear and accurate reasonings,
and enforced by pathetic and eloquent illustrations. The
result was the more auspicious, as the heretical doctrines,
which were then fairly reasoned down, had been ad
vanced by a very respectable portion of the Union, and
urged on the floor of the Senate by the polished mind,
manly zeal, and honored name of a distinguished mem
ber of the South.
' The consequences of that discussion have been ex
tremely beneficial. It turned the attention of the public
to the great doctrines of national rights and national
union. Constitutional law ceased to remain wrapped up
in the breasts, and taught only by the responses of the
living oracles of the law. Socrates was said to have
drawn down philosophy from the skies, and scattered it
among the schools. It may with equal truth be said that
Constitutional law, by means of those Senatorial discus
sions, and the master genius that guided them, was res
cued from the archives of our tribunals and the libraries
of lawyers, and placed under the eye and submitted to
the judgment of the American people. Their verdict is
with us, and from it there lies no appeal.'
This was followed in return by a speech from Mr.
Webster, whose animation was equal to the occasion.
A high spirit breathed in every word, and a reverence
bordering upon enthusiasm was extended to those de
parted sages, who had made sacrifices to build up our
invaluable institutions. Standing, as it were, by the
grave of Hamilton, the Orator drew a character of him,
whose ashes slept beneath the sod. No marble monu
ment can eternize the dead, like the lips of truth and
the tongue of eloquence. It was the precise moment
for Hamilton's eulogy to be pronounced ; for many of
those listening to the voice of the Orator knew well

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 189
the subject of his praise ; knew him personally ; re
membered him, and what he did ; and could bear tes
timony that all that the eulogist said was true ; and
that more, much more, might have been said on the
same subject ; and yet time enough had elapsed to
extract the sting from envy, and to dissipate all the
ranklings of political strife. Other worthies were not
forgotten on this occasion ; — Jay and Livingston, — ¦
names to be called up when the glories of our revolu
tion are to be commemorated, or our history written, —
were brought out in relief; others were not forgotten,
although not mentioned, for want of time. A tenth
part of them could not be named in such a passing mo
ment. A feast of this sort is an hour anticipated from
that golden age which is to come ; that age of exalted
virtue and pure intelligence, — that age when justice
shall lift aloft her scale, and white-robed innocence de
scend from Heaven ; — when different natures shall live
in peace, and harmony, and love. Whoever has spent
his days in party-times, and has plunged into party-
feuds,-~who has brought himself to praise those he
disliked, and has shunned those he truly respected ;^
and all have done this, more or less, who have been
partizans, — can tell how pleasant is such an hour of
harmony and good feeling-
< I owe the honor of this occasion, gentlemen, to your
patriotic and affectionate attachment to the Constitution
Qf the country. For an effort, well intended, however
otherwise of unpretending character, made in the dis
charge of public duty, and designed to maintain the Con-

190 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
stitution, and vindicate its just powers, you have been
pleased to tender me this token of your respect. It
would be idle affectation to deny that it gives me singu
lar gratification. Every public man must naturally de
sire the approbation of his fellow-citizens ; and though it
may be supposed that I should be anxious, in the first
place, not to disappoint the expectations of those whose
immediate representative I am, it is not possible that I
should not feel, nevertheless, the high value of such a
mark of esteem as is here offered. But, gentlemen, I
am conscious that the main purpose of this occasion is
higher than mere manifestation of personal regard. It is
to evince your attachment to the Constitution, and your
just alarm, at whatever threatens to weaken its proper
authority, or endanger its existence.
' Gentlemen, this could be hardly otherwise. It would
be strange, indeed, if the members of this vast commer
cial community should not be first and foremost to rally
for the Constitution, whenever opinions and doctrines are
advanced hostile to its principles. Where, sooner than
here, where louder than here, may we expect a patriotic
voice to be raised, when the union of the States is threat
ened 1 In this great commercial emporium, at this cen
tral point of the united commerce of the United States,
of all places, we may expect the warmest, the most de
termined, and universal feeling of attachment to the na
tional Constitution. Gentlemen, no one can estimate
more highly than I do, the natural advantages of your
city. No one entertains a higher opinion than myself,
also, of that spirit of wise and liberal policy, which has
actuated the Government of the State in the accomplish
ment of high objects, important to the growth and pros
perity both of the State and the city. But all these local
advantages, and all this enlightened State policy could
never have made your city what it now is, without the
aid and protection of a General Government, extending
over all the States, and establishing for all, a common
and uniform system of commercial regulation. Without
national character, without public credit, without syste-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 191
matic finance, without uniformity of commercial laws,
all other advantages possessed by this city, would have
decayed and perished, like unripe fruit. A General
Government, was, for years before it was instituted, the
great object of desire to the inhabitants of this city.
New- York was conscious of her local advantages for
commerce, — she saw her destiny, and was eager to em
brace it ; but nothing else than a General Government
could make free her path before her, and set her forward
on her career. She early saw all this, and to the ac
complishment of this great and indispensable object, she
bent up every faculty, and exerted every effort. She was
not mistaken. She formed no false judgment. At the
moment of the adoption of the Constitution, New- York
was the capital of one State, and contained thirty-two or *
thirty-three thousand people. It now contains more than
two hundred thousand people, and is justly regarded as
the commercial capital, not only of all the United States,
but of the whole continent also, from the Pole to the
South Sea. Every page of her history, for the last forty
years, bears high and irresistible testimony to the bene
fits and blessings of the General Government. Her
astonishing growth is referred to, and quoted, all the
world over, as one of the most striking proofs of the
effects of our Federal Union. To suppose her now to be
easy and indifferent, when notions are advanced tend
ing to its dissolution, would be to suppose her equally
forgetful of the past, and blind to the present, alike igno
rant of her own history, and her own interest, metamor
phosed from all that she has been, into a being tired of
its prosperity, sick of its own growth and greatness, and
infatuated for its own destruction. Every blow aimed at
the union of the States strikes on the tenderest nerve of
her interest and her happiness. To bring the Union
into debate, is to bring her own future prosperity into
debate also. To speak of arresting the laws of the
Union, of interposing State power in matters of com
merce and revenue, of weakening the full and just au
thority of the General Government, would be, in regard

192 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
to this city, but another mode of speaking of commercial
ruin, of abandoned wharves, of vacated houses, of dimin
ished and dispersing population, of bankrupt merchants,
of mechanics without employment, and laborers without
bread. The growth of this city, and the Constitution of
the United States, are coevals and contemporaries. They
began together, they have flourished together, and if
rashness and folly destroy one, the other will follow it to
the tomb.
'Gentlemen, it is true, indeed, that the growth of this
city is extraordinary and almost unexampled. It is now,
I believe, sixteen or seventeen years, since I first saw it.
Within that comparatively short period, it has added to
its number three times the whole amount of its popula
tion when the Constitution was adopted. Of all things
having power to check this prosperity, of all things po
tent to blight and blast it, of all things capable of com
pelling this city to recede as fast as she has advanced, a
disturbed government, an enfeebled public authority, a
broken or a weakened union of the States, would be
sovereign. This would be cause efficient enough. Every
thing else, in the common fortune of communities, she
may hope to resist, or to prevent. That would be fatal
as the arrow of death.
' Gentlemen, you have personal recollections and asso
ciations, connected with the establishment and adoption
of the Constitution, which are necessarily called up on
an occasion like this. It is impossible to forget the pro
minent agency which eminent citizens of your own ful
filled, in regard to that great measure. They are now
recorded among the illustrious dead ; but they have left
names never to be forgotten and never to be remembered
without respect and veneration. Least of all can they be
forgotten by you, when assembled here for the purpose of
signifying your attachment to the Constitution, and your
sense of its inestimable importance to the happiness of
the people.
' I should do violence to my own feelings, gentlemen,
I think I should offend yours, if I omitted respectful

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 193
mention of great names, yet fresh in your recollections.
How can I stand here, to speak of the Constitution of
the United States, of the wisdom of its provisions, of the
difficulties attending its adoption, of the evils from which
it rescued the country, and of the prosperity and power
to which it had raised it, and yet pay no tribute to those
who were highly instrumental in accomplishing the
work 1 While we are here, to rejoice that it yet stands
firm and strong ; while we congratulate one another that
we live under its benign influence, and cherish hopes of
its long duration, we cannot forget who they were that,
in the day of our national infancy, in the times of despon
dency and despair, mainly assisted to work out our de
liverance. I should feel that I disregarded the strong
recollections which the occasion presses upon us, that I
wns not true to gratitude, not true to patriotism, not true
to the living or the dead, not true to your feelings or my
own, if I should forbear to make mention of Alexander
Hamilton. ' Coming from the military service of his country, yet
a youth, but with knowledge and maturity, even in civil
affairs, far beyond his years, he made this city the place
of his adoption ; and he gave the whole powers of his
mind to the contemplation of the weak and distracted
condition of the country. Daily increasing in acquaint
ance and confidence with the people of this city, he saw,
what they also saw, the absolute necessity of some closer
bond of union for the States. This was the great object
of desire. He appears never to have lost sight ofit, but
was found in the lead, whenever anything was to be at
tempted for its accomplishment. One experiment after
another, as is well known, was tried, and all failed. The
States were urgently called on to confer such further
powers on the old Congress as would enable it to redeem
the public faith, or to adopt themselves some general and
common principle of commercial regulation. But the
States had not agreed, and were not likely to agree. In
this posture of affairs, so full of public difficulty, and
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194 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
public distress, Commissioners from five or six of the
States met, on the request of Virginia, at Annapolis, in
September, 1786. The precise object of their appoint
ment was, to take into consideration the trade of the
United States ; to examine the relative situations and
trade of the several States ; and to consider how far a
uniform system of commercial regulations was necessary
to their common interest and permanent harmony. Mr.
Hamilton was one of these Commissioners ; and I have
understood, though I cannot assert the fact, that their
Report was drawn by him. His associate from this
State was the venerable Judge Benson, who has lived
long, and still lives, to see the happy results ofthe coun
sels which originated in this meeting. Of its members,
he and Mr. Madison are, I believe, now the only survi
vors. These Commissioners recommended, what took
place the next year, a general Convention of all the
States, to take into serious deliberation the condition of
the country, and devise such provisions as should render
the Constitution of the Federal Government adequate to
the exigencies of the Union. I need not remind you,
that of this Convention, Mr. Hamilton was an active and
efficient member. The Constitution was framed, and
submitted to the country. And then another great work
was to be undertaken. The Constitution would natu
rally find, and did find enemies and opposers. Objec
tions to it were numerous, and powerful, and spirited.
They were to be answered ; and they were, effectually
answered. The writers of the numbers of the Federal
ist, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Madison, and Mr. Jay, so greatly
distinguished themselves in their discussions of the Con
stitution, that those numbers are generally received as
important commentaries on the text and accurate exposi
tions, in general, of its objects and purposes. Those
papers were all written and published in this city. Mr.
Hamilton was elected one of the distinguished delegation
from the city, into the State Convention at Poughkeepsie,
called, to ratify the new Constitution. Its debates are
published. Mr. Hamilton appears to have exerted, on

LIFE OF WEBSTER.

195

this occasion, to the utmost, every power and faculty of
his mind.
' The whole question was likely to depend on the deci
sion of New York. He felt the full importance of the
crisis ; and the reports of his speeches, imperfect as they
probably are, are yet lasting monuments to his genius and
patriotism. He saw at last his hopes fulfilled ; he saw
the Constitution adopted, and the government under it
established and organized. The discerning eye of
Washington immediately called him to that post, infinite
ly the most important, in the administration of the new
system. He was made Secretary of the Treasury ; and
how he fulfilled the duties of such a place, at such a
time, the whole country perceived, with delight, and the
whole world saw, with admiration. He smote the rock
of the national resources, and abundant streams of reve
nue gushed forth. He touched the dead corpse of the
Public Credit, and it sprung upon its feet. — The fabled
birth of Minerva from the brain of Jove, was hardly more
sudden, or more perfect than the financial system of the
United States, burst forth from the conceptions of Alex
ander Hamilton.
' Your recollections, gentlemen, your respect, and your
affections, all conspire to bring before you, at such a time
as this, another great man, now, too, numbered with the
dead. I mean the pure, the disinterested, the patriotic
John Jay. His character is a brilliant jewel in the sa
cred treasures of national reputation. Leaving his pro
fession at an early period, yet not before he had singu
larly distinguished himself in it, from the commencement
of the Revolution, his whole life, until his final retire
ment, was a life of public service. A member of the
first Congress, he was the author of that political paper
which is generally acknowledged to stand first among
the incomparable productions of that body : papers, which
called forth that decisive strain of commendation from
the great Lord Chatham, in which he pronounced them
not inferior to the finest productions of the master states
men of the world. He had been abroad, and he had

196 LIFH OF WEBSTER.
also been long intrusted with the difficult duties of out
foreign correspondence at home. He had seen and felt,
in the fullest measure, and to the greatest possible ex
tent, the difficulty of conducting our foreign affairs, hon
orably and usefully, without a stronger and more perfect
Union at home. Though not a member of the Conven
tion which framed the Constitution, he was yet present
while it was in session, and looked anxiously foT its re
sult. By the choice of this city, he had a seat in the
State Convention, and took an active and zealous part,
for the adoption of the Constitution. He was selected
by Washington to be the first Chief Justice of the United
States ; and surely the high and most responsible duties
of that station, could not have been trusted to abler or
safer hands. It is the duty, one of equal importance and
delicacy, of that tribunal, to decide constitutional ques
tions, arising occasionally on State laws. Tbe general
learning and ability, and especially the prudence, the
mildness, and the firmness of his character, eminently
fitted Mr. Jay to be the head of such court. When the
spotless ermine of the judicial robe fell on John Jay, it
touched nothing not as spotless as itself. These eminent
men, gentlemen, the contemporaries of some of you, known
to most, and revered by all, were so conspicuous in the
framing and adopting of the Constitution, and called so
early to important stations under it, that a tribute, better,
indeed, than I have given, or am able to give, seemed
due to them from us. There was yet another, of whom
mention is to be made. In the revolutionary history of
the country, the name of Chancellor Livingston became
early prominent. He was a member of that Congress
which declared Independence ; and a member, too, of
the committee which drew and reported the immortal
Declaration. At the period of the adoption of the Con
stitution, he was its firm friend and able advocate. He
was a member of the State Convention, being one of
that list of distinguished and gifted men, who represent
ed this city in that body ; and threw the whole weight of
his talents and influence into the doubtful scale of the
Constitution.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 197
' Gentlemen, as connected with the Constitution, you
have also local recollections which must bind it still closer
to your attachment and affection. It commenced its
being and its blessings here. It was in this city, in the
midst of friends, anxious, hopeful, and devoted, that the
new Government started in its course. To us, gentle
men, who are younger, it has come down by tradition ;
but some around me are old enough to have witnessed,
and did witness, the interesting scene of the first Inau
guration. They remember what voices of gratified pa
triotism, what shouts of enthusiastic hope, what accla
mations, tent the air — how many eyes were suffused with
tears of joy — how cordially each man pressed the hand
of him who was next to him, when, standing in the open
air, in the centre of the city, jn the view of assembled
thousands, the first President was heard solemnly to pro
nounce the words of his official oath, repeating them from
the lips of Chancellor Livingston. You then thought,
gentlemen, that the great work of the Revolution was ac
complished. You then felt that you had a Government
— that the United States were then, indeed, united. Eve
ry benignant star seemed to shed its selectest influence
on that auspicious hour. Here were heroes of the
Revolution ; here were sages of the Convention ; here
were minds, disciplined and schooled in all the various
fortunes of the country, acting now in various relations,
but all co-operating to the same great end, the successful
administration of the new and untried Constitution. And
he — bow shall I speak of him 1 — he was at the head, who
was already first in war — who was already first in the
hearts of his countrymen, — and who was now shown
also, by the unanimous suffrage of the country, to be first
in peace.
' Gentlemen, how gloriously have the hopes, then in
dulged, been fulfilled ! Whose expectation was then so
sanguine — I may almost ask whose imagination then so
extravagant, as to run forward and contemplate as proba
ble, the one half of what has been accomplished in forty
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years ? Who among you can go back to 1789, and see
what this city, and this country too, then were — and then
beholding what they now are, can be ready to consent
that the Constitution of the United States shall now be
weakened, nullified, or dishonored 1
' Gentlemen, before I leave these pleasant recollections,
I feel it an irresistible impulse of duty to pay a tribute of
respect to another distinguished person, not, indeed, a
fellow-citizen of your own, but associated with those I
have already mentioned, in important labors, and an early
and indefatigable friend and advocate in a great cause
of the Constitution. Gentlemen, I refer to Mr. Madi
son. I am aware, gentlemen, that a tribute of regard
from me to him is of little importance ; but if it shall
receive your approbation and sanction, it will become of
value. Mr. Madison, thanks to a kind Providence, is
yet among the living, and there is certainly no other in
dividual living to whom the country is so much indebted
for the blessings ofthe Constitution. He was one ofthe
Commissioners at Annapolis, in 1786, at the meeting, of
which I have already spoken ; a meeting, which to the
great credit of Virginia, had its origin in a proceeding of
that State. He was a member of the Convention of
1789, and of that of Virginia the following year. He was
thus intimately acquainted with the whole progress of
the formation of the Constitution, from its very first
step to its final adoption. If ever man had the means of
understanding a written instrument, Mr. Madison has the
means of understanding the Constitution. If it be possi
ble to know what was designed by it, he can tell us. It
was in this city, that in conjunction with Mr. Hamilton
and Mr. Jay, he wrote the numbers of the Federalist ;
and it was in this city that he commenced his brilliant
career, under the new Constitution, having been elected
into the House of Representatives of the first Congress.
The recorded votes and debates of those times, show his
active and efficient agency in every important measure
of that Congress. The necessary organization of the
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LIFE OF WEBSTER. 199
especially the paramount subject of revenue engaged his
attention, and shared his labors. The legislative history
of the first two or three years of the Government is full
of instruction. It presents, in striking light, the evils
intended to be remedied by the Constitution, and the pro
visions which were deemed essential to the remedy of
those evils. It exhibits the country, in the moment of
its change, from a weak and ill-defined confederacy of
States, into a general, efficient, but still restrained and
limited government. It shows the first working of our
peculiar system, moved, as it then was, by master-hands.
' Gentlemen, for one, I confess, I like to dwell on this
part of our history. It is good for us to be here. It is
good for us to study the situation of the country at this
period, to survey its difficulty, to look at the conduct of
its public men, to see how they struggle with obstacles,
real and formidable, and how gloriously they brought
the country out of its state of depression and distress.
Truly, gentlemen, these founders and fathers of the Con
stitution were great men, and thoroughly furnished for
every good work. All that reading and learning could
do, all that talent and intelligence could do, and what
perhaps is still more — all that long experience, in difficult
and troubled times, and a deep and intimate practical
knowledge of the condition of the country could do, con
spired to fit them for the great business of forming a gen
eral, but limited government, embracing common objects,
extending over all the States, and yet touching the power
of the States no farther than those common objects re
quire. I confess, I love to linger around these original
fountains, and to drink deep of their waters. I love to
imbibe, in as full measure as I may, the spirit of those
who laid the foundations of the government, and so wisely
and skillfully balanced and adjusted its bearings and
proportions. ' Having been afterwards, for eight years, Secretary of
State, and as long President, Mr. Madison has had an
experience in the affairs of the Constitution, certainly
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200 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
perhaps more than any other who has lived, his whole
public life has been incorporated, as it were, into the
Constitution ; in the original conception and project of
attempting to form it, in its actual framing, in explaining
and recommending it, by speaking and writing, in as
sisting at the first organization of the Government under
it, and in a long administration of its executive powers,
in those various ways he has lived near the Constitution,
and with the power of imbibing its true spirit, and inhal
ing its very breath, from its first pulsation of life. Again,
therefore, I ask, if he cannot tell us what the Constitu
tion is, and what it means, who can 1 He had retired
with the respect and regard of the community, and might
naturally be supposed not willing to interfere again in
matters of political concern. He has, nevertheless, not
withholden his opinions on the vital question discussed
on that occasion, which has caused this meeting. He
has stated with an accuracy almost peculiar to himself,
and so stated, as, in my opinion, to place almost beyond
further controversy, the true doctrines of the Constitu
tion. He has stated, not notions too loose and irregular
to be called even a theory, — not ideas struck out by the
feeling of present inconvenience or supposed mal-admin-
istration, — not suggestions of expediency, or evasions of
fair and straight-forward construction, — but elementary
principles, clear and sound distinctions, and indispensa
ble truths. I am sure, gentlemen, that I speak your
sentiments, as well as my own, when I say, that for
making public so clearly and distinctly as he has done,
his own opinions on these vital questions of Constitutional
law, Mr. Madison has founded a new and strong claim
on the gratitude of a grateful country. You will think
with me, that at his advanced age, and in the enjoyment
of general respect and approbation, for a long career of
public services, it was an act of distinguished patriotism,
when he saw notions promulgated and maintained, which
he deemed unsound and dangerous, not to hesitate to come
forward, and to place the weight of his own opinion in
what he deemed the right scale, come what might come.

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 201
I am sure, gentlemen, it cannot be doubted, — the manifest
tation is clear, — that the country feels gratefully the force
of this new obligation.
' Gentlemen, what I have said of the benefits of the
Constitution to your city, might be said, with little change,
in every other part of the country. Its benefits are not
exclusive. What has it left undone, which any Govern
ment could do, for the whole country ? In what condi
tion has it placed us 1 Where do we now stand ? Are we
elevated or degraded by its operation 1 What is our con
dition under its influence, at the very moment when some
talk of arresting its power and breaking its unity 1 Do
we not feel ourselves on an eminence 1 Do we not chal
lenge the respect of the whole world 1 What has placed
us thus high 1 What has given us this just pride t What
else is it, but the unrestrained and free operation of that
same Federal Constitution, which it has been proposed
now to hamper, and manacle, and nullify '? Who is there
among us, that should find himself on any spot of the
earth, where human beings exist, and where the exist
ence of other nations is known, that would not be proud
to say, I am an American ? I am a countryman of Wash
ington ? I am a eitizen of that Republic, which, although
it has suddenly sprung up, yet there are none on the
globe who have ears to hear, and have not heard of it, —
who have eyes to see, and have not read of it, — who' know
any thing, and yet do not know of its existence and its
glory 1 — And, gentlemen, let me now reverse the picture.
Let me ask, who there is among us, if he were to be
found to-morrow in one of the civilized countries of Eu
rope, and were there to learn that this goodly form of
Government had been overthrown, — that the United
States were no longer united, — that a death-blow had
been struck upon their bond of union, — that they them
selves had destroyed their chief good and their chief
honor, — who is there, whose heart would not sink within
him? Who is there who would not cover his face for
very shame ?
' At this very moment, gentlemen, our country is a gen-

202 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
eral refuge for the distressed and the persecuted of other
nations. Whoever is in affliction from political occur
rences in his own country, looks here for shelter. Whe
ther he be republican, flying from the oppression of
thrones, — or whether he be monarch or monarchist, fly
ing from thrones that crumble and fall under or around
him, — he feels equal assurance, that if he get foot-hold
on our soil, his person is safe, and his rights will be res
pected. ' And who will venture to say, that in any Govern
ment, now existing in the world, there is greater security
for persons or property than in the United States 1 We
have tried these popular institutions in times of great ex
citement and commotion ; they have stood substantially
firm and steady, while the fountains of the great political
deep have been elsewhere broken up ; while thrones,
resting on ages of proscription, have tottered and fallen ;
and while, in other countries, the earthquake of unre
strained popular commotion has swallowed up all law,
and all liberty, and all right together, our Government
has been tried in peace, and it has been tried in war ;
' and has proved itself fit for both. It has been assailed
from without, and successfully resisted the shock ; it has
been disturbed within, and has effectually quieted the
disturbance. It can stand trial, — it can stand assault, —
it can stand adversity, — it can stand everything but the
marring of its own beauty, and the weakening of its own
strength. It can stand everything, but the effects of our
own rashness, and our own folly. It can stand every
thing, but disorganization, disunion, and nullification.
' It is a striking fact, and as true as it is striking, that
at this very moment, among all the principal civilized
States of the world, that Government is most secure
against the danger of popular commotion, which is itself
entirely popular. It seems, indeed, that the submission
of everything to the public will, under Constitutional re
straints, imposed by the people themselves, furnishes, it
self, security that that will desire nothing wrong.
' Certain it is, that popular Constitutional liberty, as

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 203
we enjoy it, appears, in the present state of the world, as
sure and stable a basis for Government to rest upon, as
any Government of enlightened States can find, or does
find. Certain it is, that in these times of so much popu
lar knowledge, and so much popular activity, those Gov
ernments which do not admit the people to partake in
their administration, but keep the people under and be
neath, sit on materials for an explosion, which may take
place at any moment, and blow them into a thousand
atoms. ' Gentlemen, let any man who would degrade and en
feeble the national Constitution, — let any man who would
nullify its laws, stand forth and tell us what he would
wish. What does he propose 1 Whatever he may be,
and whatever substitute he may hold forth, I am sure the
people of this country will decline his kind interference,
and hold on by the Constitution which they possess.
Any one who would willingly destroy it, I rejoice to
know would be looked upon with abhorrence. It is
deeply entrenched in the regards of the people. Doubt
less, it may be undermined by artful and long continued
hostility ; it may be imperceptibly weakened by secret
attack ; it may be insidiously shorn of its powers by slow
degrees ; the public vigilance may be lulled, and when it
awakes, it may find the Constitution frittered away. In
these modes, or some of them, doubtless, it is possible
that the union ofthe States may be dissolved.
' But if the general attention of the people be kept
alive, — if they see the intended mischief before it is ef
fected, they will effectually prevent it by their own sov
ereign power. They will interpose themselves between
the meditated blow, and the object of their regard and
attachment. Gentlemen, next to the controlling authority
ofthe people themselves, the preservation ofthe Govern
ment is mainly committed to those who administer it. If
conducted in wisdom, it cannot but stand strong. Its
genuine original spirit is a patriotic, liberal, and gene
rous spirit ; a spirit of conciliation, of moderation, of can
dor, and charity ; a spirit of friendship, and not a spirit

204 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
of hostility, with the States; a spirit, careful not to ex
ceed, and equally careful not to relinquish its just pow
ers. While no interest can or ought to feel itself, shut
out from the benefits of the Constitution, none should
consider those benefits as exclusively its own. The in
terests of all must be connected, and reconciled, and pro
vided for, as far as possible, that all may perceive the
benefits of a united Government.
' Among other things, we are to remember that, since
the adoption ofthe Constitution, new States have arisen,
possessing already an immense population, spreading and
thickening over vast regions, which were a wilderness
when the Constitution was adopted. Those States are
not like New- York, directly connected with maritime
commerce. They are entirely agricultural, and need
markets for consumption, and access to those markets.
It is the duty of the Government to bring the interests of
these new States into the Union, and incorporate them
closely in the family compact. Gentlemen, it is not im
practicable to reconcile these various interests, and so to
administer the Government as to make it useful to all.
It was never easier to administer the Government than it
is now. We are beset with none, or with few, of its
original difficulties ; and it is a time of great general
prosperity and happiness. Shall we admit ourselves in
competent to carry on the Government, so as to be satis
factory to the whole country 1 Shall we admit that there
has so little descended to us of the wisdom and prudence
of our fathers 1 If the Government could be administered
in Washington's time, when it was yet new, when the
country was heavily in debt, when foreign relations were
threatening, and when Indian wars pressed on the fron
tiers, can it not be administered now ? Let us not ac
knowledge ourselves so unequal to our duties.
' Gentlemen, on the occasion referred to, it became
necessary to consider the judicial power, and its proper
functions under the Constitution. In every free and bal
anced Government, this is a most essential and important
power. Indeed, I think it is a remark of Mr. Hume,

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 205
that the administration of justice seems to be the leading
object of institutions of Government ; that Legislatures
assemble, that armies are embodied, that both war and
peace are made, with a sort of ultimate reference to the
proper administration of laws, and the judicial protection
of private rights. The judicial power comes home to
every man. If the Legislature passes incorrect or un
just general laws, its members bear the evil as well as
others. But judicature acts on individuals. It touches
every private right, every private interest, and almost
every private feeling. What we possess is hardly fit to
be called our own, unless we feel secure in its posses
sion ; and this security, this feeling of perfect safety,
cannot exist under a wicked, or even under a weak and
ignorant administration of the laws. There is no happi
ness, there is no liberty, there is no enjoyment of life,
unless a man can say when he rises in the morning, I
shall be subject to the decision of no unjust judge to
day. ' But, gentlemen, the Judicial Department under the
Constitution of the United States, possesses still higher
duties. It is true that it may be called on, and is occa
sionally called on to decide questions, which are, in one
sense, of a political nature. The General and State
Governments, both established by the people, are estab
Ushed for different purposes, and with different powers.
Between those powers questions may arise, and who shall
decide them ? Some provision for this end is absolutely
necessary, — What shall it be ? This was the question be
fore the Convention ; and various schemes were suggested.
It was foreseen, that the States might inadvertently pass
laws, inconsistent with the Constitution of the United
States, or with acts of Congress. At least, laws might
be passed, which would be charged with such inconsist
ency. How should these questions be disposed of?
Where shall the power of judging, in cases of alleged in
terference, be lodged? One suggestion, in the Convention,
was to make it an executive power, and to lodge in the
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206 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
hands of the President, by requiring all State laws to be
submitted to him, that he might negative such as he
thought appeared repugnant to the general Constitution.
This idea, perhaps, may have been borrowed from the
power exercised by the crown, over the laws of the Colo
nies. It would evidently have been not only an incon
venient and troublesome proceeding, but dangerous, also,
to the powers of the States. It was not pressed. It was
thought wiser and safer, on the whole, to require State
legislatures and State judges to take an oath to support
the Constitution of the United States, and then leave the
States at liberty to pass whatever laws they pleased, and
if interference, in points of fact, should arise, to refer the
question to judicial decision. To this end, the judicial
power, under the Constitution of the United States, was
made co-extensive with the legislative power. It was
extended to all cases arising under the Constitution and
the laws of Congress. The Judiciary became thus pos
sessed of the authority of deciding, in the last resort, in
all cases of alleged interference, between State Laws and
the Constitution, and laws of Congress.
' Gentlemen, — This is the actual Constitution, — This
the law of the land. There may be those, who think it
unnecessary, or who would prefer a different mode of de
ciding such questions. But this is the established mode,
and till it be altered, the Courts can no more decline
their duty, ou these occasions, than on other occasions.
But, gentlemen, can any reasonable man doubt the ex
pediency of this provision, or suggest a better ? Is it not
absolutely essential to the peace ofthe country, that this
power should exist somewhere ? Where can it exist, bet
ter than where it now does exist? The national Judi
ciary is the common tribunal of the whole country. It
is organized by the common authority, and its places
filled by the common agent. This is a plain and practi
cal provision. It was framed by no bunglers, nor by any
wild theorists. And who can say, that it has failed 1
Who can find substantial fault, with its operation or its
results ? The great question is, whether we shall provide

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 207
for the peaceable decision of cases of collision. Shall
they be decided by law, or by force ? Shall the decisions
be decisions of peace, or decisions of war?
' On the occasion referred to, the proposition con
tended for, was, that every State, under certain supposed
exigencies, and in certain supposed cases, might decide
for itself, and act for itself, and oppose its own force to
the execution of the laws. By what argument, do you
imagine, gentlemen, it was, that such a proposition was
maintained ? I shoidd call it metaphysical, and subtle ;
but these terms would imply at least ingenuity, and some
degree of plausibility ; whereas the argument appears to
me plain assumption, mere perverse construction of plain
language, in the body of the Constitution itself. As I
understand it, when put forth in its revised and most au
thentic shape, it is this ; that the Constitution provides,
that any amendments may be made to it, which shall be
agreed to by three-fourths of the States ; there is, there
fore, to be nothing in the Constitution to which three-
fourths of the States have not agreed. All this is true ;
but then comes this inference, viz. : that when one State
denies the constitutionality of any law of Congress, she
may arrest its execution as to herself, and keep it ar
rested, till the States can all be consulted, by their con
ventions, and three-fourths of them shall have decided
that the law is constitutional. Indeed the inference is
still stranger than this ; for State Conventions have no
authority to construe the Constitution, though they have
authority to amend it; therefore the argument must
prove, if it prove anything, that when any one State de
nies that any particular power is included in the Consti
tution, it is to be considered as not included, and cannot
be found there, till three-fourths of the States agree to
insert it. In short, the result of the whole is, that though
it requires three-fourths of the States to insert anything
into the Constitution, yet any one State can strike any
thing out of it. For the power to strike out, and the
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208 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
of what is already in, are substantially and practically the
same. ' And, gentlemen, what a spectacle should we have
exhibited, under the actual operation of notions Hke
these ? At the very moment when our Government was
quoted, praised, and commended all over the world ;
when the friends of Republican Liberty, everywhere,
were gazing at it with delight, and were in perfect ad
miration at the harmony of its movements, one State steps
forth, and by the power of nullification, breaks up the
whole system, and scatters the bright chain of the Union
into as many sundered links as there are separate States !
1 Seeing the true grounds of the Constitution thus at
tacked, I raised my voice in its favor, I must confess,
with no preparation, or previous intention. I can hardly
say that I embarked in the contest from a sense of duty.
It was an instantaneous impulse of inclination, not acting
against duty, I trust, but hardly waiting for its sugges
tions. I felt it to be a contest for the integrity of the
Constitution ; and I was ready to enter into it, not think
ing, or caring, personally, how I might come out.
' Gentlemen, — I have true pleasure in saying, that I
trust the crisis has, in some measure, passed by. The
doctrines of nullification have received a severe and stern
rebuke from public opinion. The general reprobation of
the country has been cast upon them. Recent expres
sions of the most numerous branch of the national legis
lature are decisive and imposing. Everywhere, the gen
eral tone of public feeling is for the Constitution. While
much will be yielded, every thing almost but the integ
rity of the Constitution, and the essential interests of the
country, to the cause of mutual harmony, and mutual
conciliation, on ground can be granted, not an inch, to
menace and bluster. Indeed, menace, and bluster, and the
putting forth of daring unconstitutional doctrines, are, at
this very moment, the chief obstacles to mutual harmony,
and satisfactory accommodation. Men cannot well rea
son, and confer, and take counsel together, about the dis
creet exercise of a power, with those who deny that any

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 209
such power rightfully exists, and who threaten to blow
up the whole Constitution, if they cannot otherwise get
rid of its operation. It is matter of sincere gratification,
gentlemen, that the voice of this great State has been so
clear and strong, and her vote, all but unanimous, on the
most interesting of these occasions, in the House of Rep
resentatives. Certainly such respect to the Union be
comes New- York. It is consistent with her interests
and her character. That singularly prosperous State, —
which now is, and is likely to continue to be, the great
est link in the chain of the Union, — will ever be, it is to
be hoped, the strongest link also. The great States
which lie in her neighborhood agreed with her fully in
this matter. Pennsylvania, I believe, was loyal to the
Union, to a man ; and Ohio raises her voice, like that of
a lion, against whatsoever threatens disunion and dis
memberment. This harmony of sentiment is truly grati
fying. It is not to be gainsaid that the union of opinion,
in this great central mass of our population, on this mo
mentous point of the Constitution, augurs well for our
future prosperity and security.
' I have said, gentlemen, what I verily believe to be
true, that there is no danger to the Union from open
amTavowed attacks on its essential principles. Nothing
is to be feared from those who will march up boldly to
their own propositions, and tell us that they mean to an
nihilate powers exercised by Congress. But, certainly,
there are dangers to the Constitution, and we ought not
to shut our eyes to them. We know the importance of
a firm and intelligent Judiciary ; but how shall we se
cure the continuance of a firm and intelligent Judiciary?
Gentlemen, the Judiciary is in the appointment of the
executive power. It cannot continue or renew itself.
Its vacancies are to be filled in the ordinary modes of
executive appointment. If the time shall ever come,
which Heaven avert ! when men shall be placed in the
supreme tribunal of the country, who entertain opinions
hostile to the just powers of the Constitution, we shall
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then be visited by an evil defying all remedy. Our case
will be " past surgery." From that moment the Consti
tution is at an end. If they who are appointed to defend
the castle shall betray it, woe betide those within ! If I
live to see that day come, I shall despair of the country.
I shall be prepared to give it back to all its former afflic
tions, in the days of the confederation. I know no secu
rity, gentlemen, against the possibility of this evil, but
an awakened public vigilance. I know no safety, but in
that state of public opinion which shall lead it to rebuke
and put down every attempt, either to gratify party, by
Judicial appointments, or to dilute the Constitution, by
creating a court which shall construe away its provisions.
If members of Congress betray their trust, the people
will find it out before they are ruined. If the President
should, at any time, violate his duty, his term of office is
short, and popular elections may supply a seasonable
remedy. But the Judges of the Supreme Court possess,
for very good reasons, an independent tenure of office.
No election reaches them. If, with this tenure, they
betray their trusts, Heaven save us ! Let us hope for bet
ter results. The past, certainly, may encourage us. Let
us hope that we shall never see the time, when there
shall exist such an awkward posture of affairs, as that
the Government shall be found in opposition to the Con
stitution, and when the guardians ofthe Union shall be
come its betrayers.
' Gentlemen, our country stands, at the present time,
on commanding ground. Older nations, with different
systems of government, may be somewhat slow to ac
knowledge all that justly belongs to us. But we may
feel, without vanity, that America is doing her part, in
the great work of improving human affairs. There are
two principles, gentlemen, strictly and purely American,
which are now likely to overrun the civilized world. In
deed they seem the necessary result of the progress of
civilization and knowledge. These are, first, popular
Governments, restrained by written Constitutions ; and,
secondly, universal education. Popular Governments

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 211
and general education, acting, and re-acting, mutually
producing and re-producing each other, are the mighty
agencies which, in our days, appear to be exciting, stim
ulating, and changing civilized societies. Man every
where is now found demanding a participation in Gov
ernment ; and he will not be refused ; and he demands
knowledge as necessary to self-government. On the
basis of these two principles, liberty and knowledge, our
own American System rests. Thus far we have not
been disappointed in their results. Our existing institu
tions, raised on these foundations, have conferred on us
almost unmixed happiness. Do we not hope to better
our condition by change ? When we shall have nullified
the present Constitution, what are we to receive in its
place ? As fathers do we wish for our children better
Government, or better laws ? As members of society, as
lovers of our country, is there anything we can desire for
it better than that, as ages and centuries roll over it, it
may possess the same invaluable institutions which it
now enjoys ? For my part, gentlemen, I can only say,
that I desire to thank the beneficent Author of all good,
for being born where I was born, and when I was born ;
that the portion of human existence, allotted to me, has
been meted out to me in this goodly land, and at this in
teresting period. I rejoice that I have lived to see so
much developement of truth, — so much progress of lib
erty, — so much diffusion of virtue and happiness. And
through good report, and evil report, it will be my conso
lation to be a citizen of a Republic, unequalled in the
annals ofthe world, for the freedom of its institutions, its
high prosperity, and the prospects of good which yet lie
before it. Our course, gentlemen, is onward, straight
onward, and forward. Let us not turn to the right hand
nor to the left. Our path is marked out for us, clear,
plain, bright, distinctly defined, like the milky-way across
the heavens. If we are true to our country, in our day
and generation, and those who come after us, shall be
true to it also, assuredly, assuredly, we shall elevate her
to a pitch of prosperity and happiness, of honor and

212 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
power, never yet reached by any nation beneath the
sun. ' Gentlemen, before I resume my seat, a highly grati
fying duty remains to be performed. In signifying your
sentiments of regard, you have kindly chosen to select as
your organ for expressing them, the eminent person near
whom I stand. I feel, I cannot well say how sensibly,
the manner in which he has seen fit to speak on this oc
casion. Gentlemen, if I may be supposed to have made
any attainment in the knowledge of constitutional law,
he is among the masters in whose schools I have been
taught. You see near him a distinguished magistrate,
long associated with him in judicial labors, which have
conferred lasting benefits, and lasting character, not only
on the State, but on the whole country. Gentlemen, I
acknowledge myself much their debtor. While yet a
youth, unknown, and with little expectation of becoming
known, beyond a very limited circle, I have passed days
and nights, not of tedious, but of happy and gratified
labor, in the study of the judicature of the State of New-
York. I am most happy to have this opportunity of pub
licly acknowledging the obligation, and of repaying it, so
far as it can be repaid, by the poor tribute of my profound
regard, and most sincere good wishes.
' Gentlemen, I will no longer detain you, than to pro
pose a toast.
' " The city of New- York ; herself the noblest eulogy
on the Union ofthe States." '
On reviewing the numerous publications of Mr.
Webster, we are astonished at the amount of his la
bors ; and particularly when we reflect that these pub
lished speeches are, in fact, but a small part of what
might have been brought out, if he would have con
sented to have them issue from the press. Those we
have, abound in useful information, and have a direct
bearing upon the welfare of the country. He has

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 213
made himself master of our history, and that of other
countries, to devolope the principles on which our Re
public is founded ; he makes use of every fair argu
ment to enforce these principles, and spares no pains
to explain them to the humblest capacity. Nothing
has escaped him in the rise and progress of our country.
to that prosperity and dignity to which she may justly
lay claim. His is a profound view of things, — from
the river he has ascended to the fountain, and tasted
of the waters as they gushed from the mountain side.
He has put the Governments and laws of all ancient
time into the alembic of his mind, and the crude
earths, and meaner minerals are separated from the
precious ores. These writings are so full of matter,
and that so useful, that they will form a text-book, and
an authority on all great constitutional questions in
time to come. These writings have all a high moral
character. There are no local feelings, — no sectional
views, — which make party-strife, and injure the dig
nity of a people, wherever and whenever they are in
dulged; — they relate to the country, — to the whole
country, — and not for any particular portion of time,
but now and forever. Every thing about his works is
moral ; his politics, — his history, — his science, — and
his letters, are marked by a strong morality, — one in
timately connected with faith, hope, and charity, the
constituents of religion.
His works are invaluable, as models for our rising
generations of public men, who are to give us laws in

214 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
time to come, and direct the destinies of the nation.
His works are chaste, and sometimes severe, in their
style of composition ; direct, nervous, and command
ing ; fall of vigor, — Roman vigor. There are no re
laxed muscles, — no feeble spots about them, — in their
motion, or their repose, they exhibit the spirit of anti
quity. He asks for no other inspiration than that
which flows from the fountains of truth, as opened by
the Genius of History. Elevated by the copious
draughts he has drank, he gathers lessons of wisdom
from the course of time, and pours them out for his
country, — that country whose glories are wound around
his heart, and burn upon his lips, a living flame.
It is common for men to find resemblances where
none exist, and to run parallels where there are no re
semblances. The moderns go back to the ancients, and
each great man finds his prototype in the ages which
have past. The writer of these remarks will not ran
sack the pages of ancient history for resemblances, but
simply ask permission of the reader to quote the fol
lowing observations upon the great Athenian orator,
and his works, made by two of the best critics of the
present age, — Chalmers and Blair, — and then leave
the reader to find what similarity he may between the
American and Grecian orator.
' These orations are strongly animated, and abounding
with the impetuosity and fire of public spirit. The figures
which he uses, rise naturally from the subject, and are
employed sparingly, for splendor and ornament do not
distinguish the compositions of Demosthenes. His cha-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 215
racter, as an orator, depends upon an energy of thought
peculiar to himself, which elevates him above all others.
Things, not words, appear to be the objects of his atten
tion. He has no parade and ostentation ; no methods of
insinuation ; no labored introductions ; but like a man
fully possessed by his subject, after preparing his au
dience by a sentence or two for hearing plain truths, he
enters directly on business, warming the mind, and im
pelling to action.
' His style is strong and concise, though sometimes, it
must not be dissembled, harsh and abrupt. His words
are very expressive ; his arrangement is firm and manly ;
and though far from being unmusical, yet it seems diffi
cult to find in him that studied but concealed number
and rhythm, which some of the ancient critics are fond
of attributing to him. Negligent of these lesser graces,
one would rather conceive him to have arrived at the
sublime, which lies in sentiment.
' His action and pronunciation are recorded to have
been uncommonly vehement and ardent ; which from the
manner of his composition, we are led to believe. He is,
on every occasion, grave, serious, passionate, taking
everything in a high tone ; never lets himself down, nor
attempts anything like pleasantry. If any fault can be
found with his admirable eloquence, it is, that he some
times borders on the hard and dry. He may be thought
to want smoothness and grace ; which Dionysius of Hal-
icarnassus attributes to his imitating too closely the man
ner of Thucydides, who was his great model for style.
But these defects are far more than compensated, by his
admirable and masterly force of masculine eloquence,
which, as it overpowered all who heard it, cannot at this
day be read without emotion !'
When he came to Boston, he could not have been
ranked among the first scholars of our country, speak
ing in "a general sense ; for there were many in' his
own circle of friends before him in classical learning,

216 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
who had spent their days and nights upon Greek and
Roman literature. Perhaps he had not felt this be
fore. He could not, in his busy course, have been
profound in ancient learning ; but his pride and his
taste came to his aid, and he commenced the study of
the classics with the ardor of youth, in the maturity of
his judgment ; and such devotion at the shrine of
Apollo and the Muses, is always blessed by the god.
These acquirements gave a mellowness and finish to
his speeches and writings, which they had not pos
sessed so conspicuously before. Like Lionardo da
Vinci, he added to the magnificence of his early de
signs all the gatherings of his experience and the im
provements of his taste. This is the noblest proof of
true genius. It is seldom that bold outlines are pa
tiently finished up. This was, perhaps, in no small
measure, owing to his new position ; for the situation
of every man has much to do with his exertions, and
in the end with his reputation, even if it does not ab
solutely alter his character essentially. If it be true,
that ' Pigmies are pigmies still though placed on alps,
And pyramids are pyramids in vales,'
yet, when the latter are placed on an eminence, their
morning and evening shadows are cast at greater
length, and the vast piles are seen, in all their magnifi
cence, at a much greater distance than if placed in
vales. Coming to the metropolis of New-England, he
was indeed set upon a hill. It was a happy exchange

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 217
of place, for he was made for that city and that city for
him. There he seems to be as great a favorite as
Pericles was in Athens ; and for aught I can see, his
power and influence are likely to continue as long. For
fifteen years it has been waxing apace without feeling
a particle of diminution. It is now and then said, by
those usually croaking on the left, that his measure of
popularity has reached its acme, — that it is impos
sible it can last much longer. All this is because
they have seen one favorite go down after another and
pass away ; but it is impossible that he should become
unpopular while he retains the powers of his mind, and
continues his exertions for the honor of his country.
To forget him and his services, would be worse than
ostracising the just Athenian. He has the charm
which will always retain its power over the people
where he lives, — the influence of domestic, social, and
religious virtues, added to the powers of his under
standing. No poor man ever asked him for pecuniary
or professional aid in vain ; and his liberality to institu
tions of learning is well known.
But to speak more particularly- of his mental en
dowments. He is not wanting in originality, — that
power of surprising and leading the mind upon some
new track ; he seeks, however, for nothing novel or
marvellous, whatever he might do in that way ; he
makes no such attempts. The truths he would enforce
or illustrate, are good old-fashioned truths, some of
which are ' so long remembered they're forgot.' These
19

218 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
he would enforce on the public mind by every power
he possesses, — these he believes are the palladium of
our country, in her advancement in the scale of nations.
His whole soul is devoted to them ; and at all times,
and in every place, he dwells on them with might and
main. He is prepared for the herculean duty. His
memory is strong, and has been well stored with facts,
and is pregnant with political life ; and those stores of
knowledge are all laid up in admirable order, ready for
use as occasion may require. From these stores he
has drawn copiously, in all his speeches before the
public, and that with so much faithfulness and felicity,
that his hearers have been astonished that they had
never seen our true interests in such a strong light be
fore. The highest genius of man is but to give a more
correct image of truth than we are accustomed to see.
His early friends say, that his imagination was once
of a high order, and that he wrote poetry, — vigorous,
manly poetry, — whenever he chose ; and as further
proof of the strength of his fancy, they produce a splen
did eulogy delivered by him on the death of a class
mate, when in college. This production has the gor
geousness of youthful fancy abuot it, and was full of
pathos. It was, for years, considered by the students as
an extraordinary composition, the most splendid that was
ever heard within college walls. Portions of it were
recited as incontestible proofs of genius, long after Mr.
Webster had left his alma mater. But if imagination
was then his most striking characteristic, it is not so

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 219
now. The severe discipline to which, in preparing for
the bar, he put himself under, soon destroyed the in
spirations of the Muse, or rather incorporated her sa
cred fire with the common masses of law and politics
he was constantly forging out for public use, on his
assuming the toga virilis among his fellow-citizens.
Every one was astonished, on his first appearance, at
the close, vigorous and mature style of his peeches,
when they expected something of the glowing and
imaginative kind, from so youthful a genius.
That power of the mind, whatever metaphysicians
may call it, which looks over the utmost extent of a
subject at a glance ; that which grasps all its near and
remote bearings, and comprehends its dependencies
and relations ; and that which can throw out all the
results of reasoning upon it to the public in the small
est compass of time, is his, pre-eminently his. It
may be called genius, judgment, talent, any thing, no
matter what ; it is greatness, mental greatness, and will
have its influence under all circumstances. Its strength
is felt and acknowledged, when no analysis of it can be
readily given. Whether this power comes in the
gentle dews, falls in the refreshing shower, or sweeps
over you in the whirlwind, or communes with you in
the still small voice, it is power, divine power, and be
longs only to gifted minds.
There are men who say that Mr. Webster has been
over-rated ; that his qualities are seen through the
medium of admiration and partiality. Thi6 is not true.

220 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
There can be no doubt but that some of his overweening
friends have, at times, for want of discernment, spoken
of his ordinary efforts at the bar, and other places, as
wonderful productions, comparing them with his higher
efforts, and claiming for them the most unbounded
praise, and branding all with envy and injustice who
did not unite with them to the full cry. The greatest
minds are sometimes common-place ; it is impossible
to keep always on the wing, and in upper air, and Mr.
Webster is too wise to always attempt it. Some things
should pass off as common-place ; but there are those
who will not suffer it to be done. It is wrong to look
only to his orations on great occasions for his proudest
efforts. These are noble compositions, powerful dis
cussions of the subject in hand, abounding in strength,
pertinent remarks, and striking illustrations, and in our
admiration of them we would not yield one jot to any
one ; but after all this, they are not, perhaps, his most
felicitous productions. He cannot lash himself into
enthusiasm or passion, and wake his soul to its utmost
power in the closet. To put out all his strength, he
require sexcitements that he cannot find there. He
must be roused by some spirit of emulation, rivalry, or
honest resentment, to do his best ; he must be awak
ened by the cry, that { the Philistines are upon
thee,' before the strength of his seven locks are felt.
It is before a court and jury, or in the deliberative as
sembly, that the full extent of his power can be under
stood. It is when they compass him in, that he arises

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 221
in his might, and takes the doors of the gates of the
city, and the two posts, bar and all, and removes them
where he pleases.
His manners at the bar, and in the deliberative as
sembly are peculiar. He begins to state his points in
a low voice, and in a slow, cool, cautious, and philo
sophical manner. If the case is of any importance, he
goes on, hammering out, link by link, his chain of ar
gument, with ponderous blows, leisurely inflicted ; and
while thus at labor, you rather see the sinews of the
arm, than the skill of the artist. It is in reply, that he
comes out in the majesty of intellectual grandeur, and
lavishes about him the opulence of intellectual wealth ;
it is when the darts of the enemy have hit him, that he
is all might and soul ; it is then that he showers down
words of weight and fire. Hear him then, and you
will say, that his eloquence is founded on no model,
ancient or modern, however strong may be the resem
blance to any one of them ; that he never read the
works of a master for imitation ; all is his own, excellen
cies and defects. He resembles no American orator
we have ever heard ; he does not imitate any one in
the remotest degree ; neither the Addisonian eloquence
of Alexander Hamilton, which was the day-spring in a
pure and vernal atmosphere, foil of health and beauty ;
nor does he strive for the sweetness of Fisher Ames,
whose heart, on all great occasions, grew liquid, and
he could pour it out like water. Ames waved the
wand ofthe enchantress, and a Paradise arose, peopled
19*

222 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
with ethereal beings, all engaged in pursuing an im
mortal career. Not so with Mr. Webster. He works
upon earth, on the business of men. Air, water, all
the elements, are at his command, all vassals of his
will, and over these his sway is herculean. All is of
mortal birth, but of gigantic proportions ; his labors are
not numbered by dozens, nor confined to the destroy
ing of monsters ; or changing the beds of rivers ; but
in serving his fellow-men involved in difficulties, and
in erecting national monuments for the present, and for
future ages.
He never strives to dazzle, astonish, or confuse, but
goes on to convince and conquer by great but legiti
mate means. When he goes out to battle, it is with
out squire, aid-de-camp, or armor-bearer, although
hundreds are ready to take any part about his person.
In his conflict he trusts to no arm but his own, he rests
only on the staff of his own spear. He asks for no
trophies but his own conquests ; he looks not around for
the laurel of victory ; but it falls from the hands of all,
and binds his brow, until he goes out again on some
new exploit.
I believe it may be said of him, that he never shows
any of that vanity in debate, which belonged to the very
nature of the great Father of Roman eloquence, and
was conspicuous in all his public acts. But if he never
said with him, ' video patres conscripti, in me omnium
ora atque occulos esse conversos,' yet, from his swell
ing veins and curled lip, you would judge that he had

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 223
no small share of that sin ' for which fell the angels ;'
but this lofty carriage and haughty look lasts only while
the fit is on him to repel what he conceives to be some
indignity offered to his client or his cause.
Some of his admirers talk of his wit in debate.
There is often a piquancy and girding retort in his ar
guments, that by some may be called wit ; but it is not
the wit of Sheridan, or of any professed wit ; nor that
wit which sparkles out, and illumines the subject
under discussion, and seems to be the offspring of the
moment ; but is a matter of long and previous delibera
tion, perhaps of frequent rehearsal. Instead of those
pyrotechnics of the war of words, Webster's speeches
abound in the burning intensity of that heat which
sheds a flash of light around, such as we see proceed
ing from a glowing mass of iron, when drawn by a
powerful arm across the anvil. In the United States,
there have been, and there now are, men of some one
or more qualifications, superior to any single trait of
Mr. Webster's mind. Some have more learning, some
have a sweeter voice, others have a more refined taste,
and not a few more imagination ; but in the' combina
tion of all these powers, he has no equal. He seizes
his subject, turns it to the light, and, however difficult,
soon makes it familiar ; however intricate, plain ; and
with a sort of supernatural power, he possesses his
hearers, and controls their opinions. His friends yield
at once with a delighted willingness, and his opponents
give up after a few intellectual struggles ; even those

224 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
who talk on against him, show that their tones are
altered, and that they are conscious of the victory he
has achieved over them, and the thraldom in which
they are placed. The ' reluctantes dracones,' after he
has brushed the swarm of flies away, soon become
quiet in his grasp.
There are many, and those too of no little intelli
gence, who think, and avow their opinions, that the
present race of politicians is inferior to that which has
just passed away ; and to account for their opinions,
they say it requires less talent to administer a govern
ment than to make a Constitution, and less energy to
cultivate peace than to fight out a revolutionary war.
We are not converts to this doctrine. To equipoise
the General Government with State rights ; to keep all
safe on the waves of party violence ; to keep the great
States from infringing on the rights of the small ; and
to take care that no State should oppress its own citi
zens, is quite as hard a task, and requires as much
mind, prudence, labor and calculation, as did the great
work of the preceding generation — that of establishing
national independence, and fixing upon a form of pop
ular government. The growth and resources of a
country — its capacity for improvements — its riches in
soil and forests, in waters and mines, give ample scope
for the mind of the statesman who extends his views
over the whole, and into all that relates to his country.
But what great mind can rest satisfied with exploring
the physical capacities of a country only ? Will he

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 225
not look to the cultivation of the intellectual faculties
also, as the only means of preserving national virtues
and liberal principles ? The best manner of producing
the highest mental cultivation, is a subject of deep
consideration ; of quite as much importance, and requir
ing as high powers, as the efforts of spreading a con
stitution on paper. Every day the character of a
people, as well as that of an individual, is undergoing
some change ; and every shade of change must be
watched by a sagacious politician, if he would prepare
himself to be useful to the public.
The fields of knowledge are rapidly increasing in
number and extent; and there are subjects enough for
the most powerful and devoted statesman to grapple
with in the longest life. It takes a good head as well
as a pure heart to make a patriot ; and a good share of
acquirement added to that to make a statesman ; and
to bring out an influential politician, he should superadd
an active zeal and a good practical knowledge of busi
ness. The shallow, raving, fuming politician, pivotted
on self, with short-sighted views, who deals out saws
and parrots maxims ; whose general knowledge is
drawn from the rotten philosophy of party journals ;
attempts to assume, and often does take the place of
the pure politician. How long does he keep it. Per
haps long enough to answer his purpose — to get money
out of his devotion to the cause ; but he can secure no
honest fame — he passes away with the day. The
hour that consigns him to the grave gives him up to.

226 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
oblivion ; or if remembered at all, it is only through
the medium of his defects. These politicians, if they
can be so called without violence to language, I grant,
ought not to be named with those who assisted to
establish our independence, to form our Constitutions,
or frame our early laws ; but those who, at the present
time, are acquainted with the science of government
and the history of nations ; who add new beauties to
the institutions of the government, by patient devel-
opement, and give the Constitution new strength, by
judicious and profound explanations ; and who break
down error and falsehood with arguments drawn from
practical experience, are as great, as important, as
useful, as those who devised and organized our excel
lent form of government. In fact, there are more
requisitions on sagacity, talent and knowledge now,
than there were in the earlier days of our Republic.
An hundred can quarry, square, smooth and polish
the stones of the capitol, to one who can throw an arch
to support the dome, or sculpture an image to adorn
its walls. There is no period of time in which all the
mind we have is not required for public and private
uses, though at some epochs it is more valuedthan at
others. Mr. Webster's enemies say that he is ambitious.
This will not be denied by his friends. But can there
be such a thing as a statesman without ambition ?
Even the martyr's bosom is not free from ambition ; for
he looks to the crown of glory in another world. There

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 227
can be nothing great or good without ambition. We
will not quarrel about the term ; we mean by ambition,
that zeal and energy for doing something worthy of life ;
that determination of leaving some mark upon the age
in which we live, that may be called our own ; that
purpose of alleviating sorrow — of ameliorating hardships
— of enhancing blessings — of elevating the humble — of
humbling the proud, that is what should be called
ambition ; and why should we not be ambitious?
That Mr. Webster has failings no one will deny ;
for what mortal ever existed without them ? But his
failings are not such as injure his faculties or impair his
usefulness. Some may complain of his coldness ;
others of his forgetfulness — forgetting themselves, that
one known to so many, cannot remember all who
know him ; and some think that he is not sufficiently
ready to acknowledge then merits ; but they should
remember that the nil admirari is frequently an in
gredient in a statesman's habits, if not in his creed,
and must be forgiven. But after all our speculations
and feelings upon the subject, justice in making out
her balance-sheet, should allow quite as much for the
jealousies of the mediocre and the little, as for the
coldness of the great. The one is a sin of omission,
and the other of commission, but they grow out of the
nature of things, and must be endured.
Mr. Webster has been, say his opponents, a most
fortunate man. No one is disposed to dispute this ;
but he has had nothing in his course to elevate him

228 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
which might be called accident; such accidents as
have no relation or bearing on the character of the in
dividual benefited by those accidents, all he has ex
perienced has been the legitimate consequence of
capacity, attainments, and well devised plans. He
has not been raised, as many second-rate men have
been, on the billows of party strife, and carried to the
pinnacle of power by chance ; and when down, excite
only wonder at their ever having been elevated. Mr.
Webster has had no honor given him that he has not
deserved — he has had no honor, that if taken away
would diminish his reputation. Throw him high and
dry in a storm, and he would as easily launch again,
as the eagle could lift his wings from his resting-place
to sail in upper regions.
He has flattered no set of men for their influence,
nor truckled to any in office fbr their patronage. He
has asked for nothing in the gift of government, nor
turned his eyes for a moment on an office in their
power to bestow. On his constituents alone he has
rested for the place to stand to use his powers ; but
even to these constituents he has made no idle prom
ises. He never told them that their suggestions should
be his law, and that he lived only in their graces — the
modern doctrine among candidates for seats in the
national legislature ; but he has sacrificed his repose
and his comforts to understand their wants and wishes,
while reserving his opinions to himself. He has labored
hard to get wholesome laws enacted, when the old

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 229
ones bore heavily upon any class of people in the
community ; to the private claims of those north or
south, cost or west, he has been liberal, when those
claims were just and well founded. His constituents
were worthy of their representative ; for putting entire
confidence in his wisdom, integrity and firmness, they
gave him no hints for the government of his conduct
in Congress ; thinking, wisely, that he knew better
there, than they did at a distance, what course to pursue.
It is natura], when intellectual and moral qualities
are given to an individual by bis biographer, for us to
inquire something about his person ; we want to know
in what form these properties resided, for we fancy a
thousand connexions between mind and body — between
essence and shape— which may, or may not exist.
The person of Mr. Webster is singular and command
ing ; his height is above the ordinary size, about five
feet eleven inches. He is broad across the chest, and
stoutly and firmly built ; but there is nothing of clum
siness either in his form or gait. His head is very
large, his forehead high, with good shaped temples.
He has a large, black, solemn looking eye, that ex
hibits strength and steadfastness, which sometimes
burns, but never sparkles. His lips, when his counte
nance is in repose, shut close — Lavator's mark of firm
ness ; but the changes of his lips make no small part
of the strong and varied expressions of his face. His
hair is of a raven black, of great thickness, and is gen
erally worn rather short ; his head is as yet without a
20

230 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
gray hair. His eye-brows are thick, more than com
monly arched, and bushy ; which, on a slight contri
tion, give his features the appearance of sternness.
But the general expression of his face, after it is prop
erly examined, is rather mild and amiable than other
wise. His movements in the Senate chamber and in
the street are slow and dignified. His voice, once
heard, is always remembered, but there is no peculiar
sweetness in it ; its tones are rather harsh than musi
cal ; still there is great variety in them ; some have a
most startling penetration ; others, of a softer character,
catch the ear and charm it down to the most perfect
attention. His voice has nothing of that monotony
which falls upon the ear, it may be heard all day
without fatiguing the audience. His emphasis is
strong, and his enunciation clear, and so distinct that
not a syllable escapes any of his hearers. The com
pass of his voice is so great, that it fills any room,
however large, with perfect ease to himself.
The conversational talents of Mr. Webster are ad
mirable ; but what he says is spontaneous and extem
pore, not made up for any particular occasion, as the
conversations of professed talkers and wits are, who
come out to monopolize the eloquence of the drawing-
room or of the banquet. There are times, however,
when he awakes to all the blandishments of the social
hour, and bears his part of the caenae Deum without
a rival ; but this is not often. On a journey, or in a
retreat from business, he throws aside all his grave

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 231
habits of thinking, and mingles familiarly with those
who are capable of giving or receiving any informa
tion ; and his superiority is as fully acknowledged
here, as in his public labors. Most distinguished
statesmen are not fitted by education for promiscuous
society. One of the evils attending great men in
England and other aristocratic countries is, that they
have but little acquaintance with the middling classes
in society ; and many of them, from being educated
privately, have never tried their corporeal and mental
strength with beings of their own age. When mind
contends with mind, without any of the distinctions of
society, in a public school, the powers of each are
very accurately measured, and the youth grows up
with a proper knowledge of his own capacity. Mr.
Webster had every advantage for this intellectual dis
cipline. Born among the yeomanry of New Hamp
shire — a shrewd, inquisitive, communicative people —
he began to talk as soon as to think. The process of
an early education among them is catechetical, and
the youth is accustomed to learn, both by answering
and putting questions among all his friends, from his
first opening a book. Thus educated, a statesman has
an acquaintance with all classes of men ; he knows the
views of every one on the great questions of morals,
politics and religion, from the highest to the lowest ;
for these subjects are freely discussed by all. These
early lessons of the road and the hearth — of the school
room and the vestry — are never forgotten ; they mingle

232 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
in his riper thoughts, and often influence his mature
judgment. Primary instruction can never be effaced ;
it is incorporated with the growth of mind, and makes
a part of our intellectual character.
It often happens that mighty minds weaken their
energies and waste their time on subjects, perhaps
pleasant to them, but of no great use or importance to
mankind ; but it was not so with Mr. Webster, he has
turned his attention to no subject in which his fellow-
citizens were not deeply interested. He has been in
dustrious at all times in what was directly useful in the
course of his duties, or in acquiring what might assist
him in preparing to discharge them. In communities
so newly formed, and so rapidly increasing as ours, all
things that may be, in any way, used by way of in
struction, guide, or example, are of great importance to
the people. The pathway of genius in a new-born na
tion, is blazed from tree to tree, like that of the survey
ors of new lands ; and the boundaries he fixes, with truth
"and judgment, become permanent and sacred. What
Bacon was to philosophy, Mr. Webster has been to
the constitutional law of his country. He has set it
upon its true basis, and discovered the strength and
, beauty of the Union ; and, notwithstanding the doubts
and fears of many, showed the fitness ofthe Constitu
tion for the duration and prosperity of the Republic.
A true lover of his country from principle, and de
fender of it from duty, he has felt as much as any one
the abuse which has been heaped upon it by Euro-

LIFE OF WEBSTER. 233
peans, particularly by some score of travellers, who
have hurried through it, and saw just enough to sub
stantiate tlie fact that they had put a foot on our soil,
but knew nothing of us as a people. He has never
railed on this subject, nor returned their revilings ; but
he put in a more effectual answer to their false allega
tions, by giving his own works to the public. What
better method could have been devised ? The great
doctrines he has advocated, he has seen prevailing
among civilized man, and becoming paramount to all
opposition. Public opinion has struck a blow, which
makes every government in Europe tremble. In the
confusion between frenzy and fear, it is to be hoped
that they will turn their eyes to the lovely and perma
nent principles of constitutional law, as explained by
our jurists and statesmen, and learn from the western
world the practical lessons of freedom.
On the basis of his own merits Mr. Webster may
rest his fame, for those merits are not accidental, or
the growth of a few short years in political life. No
sudden burst of popularity has carried him upwards to
receive the plaudits of a nation, he might have mo
mentarily served, and which some sudden reverse of
fortune might as easily destroy, and bring the favorite
to the level of ordinary men. He is firmly established
in the hearts of his countrymen, and the press has
taken his reputation into lasting keeping. Much has
necessarily been given to the passing hour, which will
never be recorded ; a great portion of his labors as an

234 LIFE OF WEBSTER.
advocate will not be remembered, but enough remains
of his forensic and legislative exertions, fixed and set
tled, to establish his reputation, and to preserve it
through all the ages of this Republic. There is yet
thank God, ' no storied urn or consecrated bust,' to
commemorate his talents or his virtues, for he still lives
in the strength of manhood ' and reason's prime,' to
serve his country. But he has done enough for fame ;
Tils reputation is already written upon the page of his
tory. When a grateful country shall erect a temple
for her worthies, he will stand a colossal figure for the
pride ofthe nation, and the delight of those who love
to contemplate the finest efforts of human genius.

Boston — Hale's Steam Press,
W. L. Lewis Printer.