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PERSONAL MEMORIALS
ot
DANIEL WEBSTER.

He that hath the vantage-ground to do good is an honest maa— JlicQn.

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PHILADELPHIA:
LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO AND :G#.,
NO. 14 NORTH FOURTH STREET.

And for sale by Fettridge &r Co., Phillips, Sampson fy Co./^K^'
^ Stringer fy Townsend, Hewitt 8r Davenport,
Long fy Brother, New York.
1852. V

PERSONAL MEMORIALS

OF

DANIEL WEBSTER

"T3u C>UaU> . cka.

tfZ^Vt^VM-X*-**-.

He that hath the vantage ground to do good is an honest man.
t
1 BACON

PHILADELPHIA:
LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO AND CO.,
GRIGG, 1851.

PRELIMINARY NOTE.

The compiler of this little volume lately visited Elms
Farm, in New Hampshire, and Marshfield, in Massachu
setts, as the friend and guest of their distinguished proprie
tor '; and, while in their vicinity, it was natural that he
should have had opportunities of gathering, from the older
inhabitants and other authentic sources, many incidents of
personal history. These were, for the most part, repeated
to him for his own gratification ; but he has deemed it his
duty to present them to the public for their edification and
pleasure. He does this upon his own responsibility, and
hopes to be excused for thus trespassing upon the rights of
hospitality. In defence of himself, he pleads the fact that
the fame of Daniel Webster, as a patriot, a jurist, a states
man, an orator, and a scholar, is co-extensive with the
civilized world,, and it cannot but be of essential service to
the rising generation, and agreeable to all admirers of in
tellectual greatness, to become acquainted with some of
those facts which tend to illustrate the every-day life and
personal character of such a man. The passages of the
volume, which do not now appear for the first time, will
be generally found credited to their several authors.
Washington City, Autumn o/"1851.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by Lifpincott, Gbambo & Co., in
the Clerk's office of the Circuit Court of the United States for the District of Columbia.

i.,\j (&<f SA.O

PEKSONAL MEMORIALS OF DANIEL WEBSTEE-

The ancestors of DANIEL WEBSTER came originally from Scotland,
-and his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, were named Ebenezer,
and were descendants of Thomas Webster, who was one of the very ear
liest settlers of New Hampshire. His father was a person of large and
stalwart form, of swarthy complexion, and remarkable features. He was
born and spent his youth on a farm; served as a ranger in the famous
company of Major Robert Rogers, and as a captain, under General John
Stark, during the revolutionary war; was for several years a member of
the legislature of New Hampshire, and died while performing with honor
the duties of judge of the court of common pleas. His mother was Abi
gail Eastman, a lady of Welsh extraction, and of far more than ordinary
intellect; she was the second wife of her husband, and the mother of five
children — two boys, Daniel and Ezekiel, and three daughters.

Ebenezer Webster, the father of Daniel, was not only a man of superior
intellect, but was distinguished for his strong and indomitable will, a char-
-acteristic which his distinguished son has rightfully inherited. He was
a federalist in politics; and it is related of him, that he was once taken
suddenly ill while passing through a village which was noted for its de
mocracy, and that supposing he was about to die, he beseeched his physi
cian to remove him as soon as possible out of the place, giving, as a
reason for his great anxiety, that " he was born a federalist, had lived a
federalist, and could not die in any but a federalist town."

Damei Webster was born on the 18th day of January, 1782, in the
town of Salisbury, Merrimac county, then Hillsborough, New Hamp
shire. The site of the house is two and a half miles from the beautiful
Merrimac river, and in the immediate vicinity of that where his father
•built the first log cabin ever seen in this section of country, and at a time
when, between his residence and the borders of Canada, there was not a
single human habitation, excepting the Indian's wigwam. The house in
question is not now standing ; but the engraving which ornaments the
title page of this volume,* is from a drawing correctly representing it as it
appeared only a few years ago. It was a good specimen of the more elegant
*The plate alluded to does not appear in this ptmphlet edition.

farm houses of the day, one story high, heavily timbered, clapboarded,
with rather a pointed roof, one chimney in the centre, one front door,
with a window on either side, three windows at each end, four rooms on
the ground floor, and an addition in the rear for a kitchen. It fronted on
the south, a picturesque well-curb and sweep stood near the eastern ex
tremity, and over the whole a mammoth elm tree extended its huge arms,
as if to protect the spot from sacrilege. In the rear, on a hill side, was a
spacious barn, and a partially wooded pasture; the prospect immediately
in front was enlivened by a rude bridge, spanning a lovely little stream,
and bounded by a lofty hill, upon which is still standing the church where
Mr. Webster was baptized; while in a southwesterly direction was pre
sented a full view of the noble mountain, called Kearsage, which holds
the same rank among its brother hills, that Mr. Webster is acknowledged
to hold among men. The house was the centre of a tract of 160 acres of
land, which still belongs to the Webster family. Though the birthplace
itself has disappeared, the waters of the well are still as pure' and spark
ling, and the leaves of the elm as luxuriant, as when they quenched the
thirst and delighted the eyes of the infant statesman nearly seventy years
ago, and in their perennial nature are emblematic of the great name with
which they are associated.
An appropriate appendage to the view of Mr. Webster's birthplace is the
following extract from one of his speeches, delivered at Saratoga, in 1840:.
" It did not happen to me to be born in a log cabin; but my elder brothers
and sisters were born in a log cabin raised amid the snow drifts of New
Hampshire, at a period so early as that, when the smoke first rose from its
rude chimney, and curled over the frozen hills, there was no similar evi
dence of a white man's habitation between it and the settlements on the
rivers of Canada. Its remains still exist. I make to it an annual visit.
I carry my children to it, to teach them the hardships endured by the
generations which have gone before them. I love to dwell on the tender
recollections, the kindred ties, the early affections, and the touching nar
ratives and incidents which mingle with all I know of this primitive family
abode. I weep to think that none of those who inhabited it are now living;
and if ever I am ashamed of it, or if I ever fail in affectionate veneration
for him who reared it, and defended it against savage violence and destruc
tion, cherished all the domestic virtues beneath its roof, and, through the
fire and blood of a seven years' revolutionary war, shrunk from no danger,
no toil, no sacrifice, to serve his country, and to raise his children to a
better condition than his own. may my name, and the name of my pos-
ierity, be blotted forever from the memory of mankind!"

Mr. Webster was taught the letters of the alphabet by his mother,.

and, because of his feebleness when a child, was ever treated by her with
partial kindness. From her lips, also, were first received into his mind
the vital truths of the Bible, and the first copy of the sacred volume which
he ever owned was presented to him by his mother. She is remembered,
and always spoken of, in New Hampshire, as a woman of superior intel
lect, of the warmest affections, and remarkably beautiful. She lived for
her husband and children, never thinking of herself, and was venerated
by all who knew her. And it is said that, when her son Daniel had at
tained his tenth year, she prophecied that he would become eminent; and
when she died that son was, indeed, a member of Congress.

The first school-house into which Mr. Webster ever entered was built
of logs, and not a vestige of it now remains, though the spot is marked
by a still flourishing butternut tree. It was located about half a mile from
his father's house, and, as he only attended during the winter, it was
pleasant to the writer to stand upon this now classic ground, and imagine
the boy Danifl tramping through the snow on his way to school, carry
ing in one hand a little tin pail with his dinner, and in the other his spell
ing book. The man who had the honor of first teaching, in a public man
ner, this favorite of fortune, was William Hoyt.

The spot where Mr. Webster spent the greater part of his childhood
and youth is known as the, "Elms Farm," and is only about three miles
from his birthplace. It contains one thousand acres, lies directly in a
bend of the Merrimac, and is one of the finest farms in New Hampshire.
It has been in the possession of his brother Ezekiel and himself ever since
the death of their father in 1806, and though intrinsically of great value,
yet to the admirer of the great and good in human intellect, it must ever
be a kind of Mecca, and possess a value not to be estimated by money.
A portion of it is interval land, while the remainder comprehends a num
ber of picturesque hills, from some of which may be seen the White
Mountains, including the grand summit of Mt. Washington, and between
Kearsage and the Ragged Mountains, the picturesque peak of Ascutny, in
Vermont. It is pre-eminently a grazing farm, and one of the meadow fields alone
contains nearly one hundred acres, and as it is encircled and occasionally
dotted with graceful elms, it presents a truly charming appearance; espe
cially so during the haying season, when a score or two of men are wielding
the scythe in a kind of cavalcade; or when, as in autumn, it is the pastur
ing ground of herds composed of the Devon, Ayrshire, and Hereford breeds
of cattle. Near the centre of the above field are the almost obliterated re-

mains of a fort which links the farm with its early history, when this par
ticular region was the frontier of the British colonies, and when the In
dians, as the allies of the French, made it their chief business to destroy the
pioneer inhabitants. The fort stood on a ridge of land, south of the bury
ing ground, and the plough which passes over it at the present day fre
quently brings to light warlike memorials of the olden times. But a Sab
bath peace now broods over the domain of the Webster family; the wilder
ness has indeed blossomed as the rose; the war-whoop has given place to>
the lowing of cattle, the bleating of sheep, and the tinkling of bells; and
yet it is pleasant to know that the changes are not universal; fpr the same
morning and evening atmospheres — the same healthful breezes — and the
same loud singing birds, with the whip-poor-will, too, are here to make
glad and to soothe the -heart, in the evening as once in the morning of his
days, of that great and good man who was born among these hills,
and whose name has baptized them with a classic fame. One of the last
Indian murders committed in New Hampshire, that of Mrs. Call, was on
this estate. Here yet remain the cellar of her habitation, and the visible
plot of her garden, where her husband raised his Indian corn one hundred
years ago, and down to the period of Mr. Webster's recollection parsnips
in this garden had perpetuated themselves. The tradition is, that Philip
Call and his son were at work in a meadow. In the house, Mrs. Call the
elder, and her daughter-in-law, who at the time had an infant in her arms.
Seeing the Indians coming, the young woman crept in behind the chimney,
hushed her child, and was not discovered by them. Mrs. Call was killed,
and the Indians departed. Mr. Webster's father bought the farm of Philip
Call, and John Call, the preserved child, Mr. Webster knew in early life.
The dwellings on Elms Farm consist of the house with which are as
sociated all his earlier and more precious recollections, also the one occu
pied by himself during his annual sojourn in the Granite State, and the-
one occupied by the tenant of the farm; while the barns and other out
houses number about a dozen, all painted white, and kept in the nicest
possible order. A railroad connecting the Upper Connecticut river with
Boston, crosses the farm in rather a picturesque manner, so that its propri
etor may dine among the mountains and partake of his supper some three
hours later in the capital of New England. It was in his house on this
farm, with the tombs of his family before him at the end of a beautiful
field, that the famous letter to Hulsemann was written.
Mr. Webster's reputation as a practical agriculturist is co-extensive
with his native State, and indeed with New England; and that it is justly
so, the following figures, obtained from the tenant of Elms Farm, alone
will prove. The yield of the farm during the present year (1851) has.
been estimated thus : Of English hay, one hundred and forty tons; of po-

tatoes, (consisting of five varieties,.) two thousand bushels; of oats, one
thousand bushels; of corn, seven hundred bushels; of sheep, four hun
dred and fifty, and of cattle one hundred head. One yoke of oxen, when
completely dressed, weighed twenty-nine hundred pounds, and was sold
in the Boston market at seven dollars per hundred.

Near his birthplace and in the bed of a little brook are the remains of
an old mill which once stood in a dark glen, and was then surrounded by
a majestic forest which covered the neighboring hills. The mill was a
source of income to Ebenezer Webster, and he kept it in operation till
near the end of his life. To that mill, Daniel, though a small boy,
went daily, when not in school, to assist his father in sawing boards. He was
apt in learning any thing useful, and soon became so expert in doing every
thing required, that his services, as an assistant, were valuable. Hence
the reason for his being employed there when not at school or absolutely
required elsewhere. But his time was not mispent or misapplied. After
setting the saw and " hoisting the gate," and while the saw was pass
ing through the log from end to end,' which usually occupied from ten to
fifteen minutes for each board, Daniel was usually seen reading attentively
the books in the way of history and biography which he was permitted
to take from the house.
There, in that old saw mill, surrounded by forests, in the midst of the
great noise which such a mill makes, and this, too, without materially neg
lecting his task, he made himself familiar with the most remarkable events
recorded by the pen of history, and with the lives and characters of the
most celebrated persons who had lived in the olden time. He has never
forgotten what he read there. So tenacious is his memory that it is
said by those who know he can recite long passages from, and state with
accuracy the contents of, pages in the old books which he read there and
has scarcely looked at since.
The solitude of the scene, the absence of every thing to divert his atten
tion, the simplicity of his occupation, the taciturn and thoughtful manner
of his father, all favored the process of transplanting every idea found in
those books to his own fresh, fruitful, and vigorous mind. The other
scenes of Mr. Webster's boyhood are hardly any of them as interesting
as the place of this old mill. The academy of science, his alma mater, is
not invested with more interest.

The first time that Mr. Webster's eyes fell upon the Constitution of
the United States, of which he is now universally acknowledged to be the
Chief Expounder and Defender, it was printed upon a cotton pocket hand-

8
kerchief, according to a fashion of the time, which he chanced to stum
ble upon in a country store, and for which he paid, out of his own pocket,
all the money he had — twenty-five cents; and the evening of the day, on
which he thus obtained a copy, was wholly devoted to its close and atten
tive perusal, while seated before a blazing fire, and by the side of his
father and mother. What dreamer on that night, in the wildest flights of
his imagination, could have seen the result of that incident, or marked
out the future career of that New Hampshire boy ?

When Mr. Webster was about seven years old his father kept a house
of public entertainment, where the teamsters, who travelled on the road,
were in the habit of obtaining a dinner and feeding their horses; and it is
said that the incipient orator and statesman frequently entertained his
father's guests by reading aloud out of the Psalms of David, to the infinite
delight of his rustic listeners. Indeed, it was customary for the teamsters
to remark, as they pulled up their horses before the Webster house,
" Come, let's go in and hear a psalm from Dan Webster." Even at that
time his voice was deep, rich, and musical.

His father was very strict in all religious observances, and required,
among other things, that his son should go every Sunday to church, though
the distance was about four miles. Daniel complained of the hard
ship, for he must needs walk all the way. His father said to him:
" I see Deacon True's boys there every Sunday regularly, and haver-
never heard of their complaining."
" Ah! yes," said Daniel, "Deacon True's boys live half the way there,
and of course have only half as far to walk."
" Well," said his father, "you may get up in the morning, dress your
self, and run up to Deacon True's, and go with them; then you will have
no further to walk than they do."
The logic of his father was conclusive, for he never considered it a
hardship to be permitted to run up to Deacon True's to play with the boys,
and that the hardship, if any, lay beyond the deacon's residence. On
every future summer Sabbath, therefore, when the weather would per
mit him, Daniel was found at church, notwithstanding the distance.

Daniel and Ezekiel Webster, when boys, were really devoted to the
pursuits of agriculture, but the following story is current in the vicinity
of their birth-place : Their father once gave them directions to perform
a specific labor during his temporary absence from home, but on his re
turn at night he found the labor unperformed, and, with a frown upon his

9
face, questioned the boys in regard to their idleness. " What have you
been doing, Ezekiel ?" said the father. "Nothing, sir," was the reply.
" Well, Daniel, what have you been doing?" " Helping Zeke, sir."

On one occasion Daniel was put to mowing. He made bad work of it.
His scythe was sometimes in the ground, and sometimes over the tops of
all the grass. He complained to his father that his scythe was not hung
right. Various attempts were made to hang it better, but with no success.
His father told him at length he might hang it to suit himself; and he
therefore hung it upon a tree, and said, "there, that is just right." His
father laughed, and told him to let it hang there.

Mr. Webster's advantages of early education were exceedingly slen
der, for he worked on the farm in summer and went to school only in the
winter. The principal district school that he attended was three miles from
his father's residence, and his pathway thither was often through deep
snows. When fourteen years old he spent a few. months at Phillips'
academy, Exeter, enjoying the tuition and kindly counsels of Dr. Benja
min Abbot. He mastered the principles and philosophy of the English
grammar in less than four months, when he immediately commenced the
study of tbe Latin language, and his first lessons therein were recited to
the late Joseph Stevens Buckminster, who was at that time a tutor in the
academy. Here he was first called upon, to " speak in public on the
stage," and the effort was a failure; for the moment he began he became
embarrassed, and burst into tears. His antipathy to public declamation
was insurmountable; and in bearing testimony to this fact, he once uttered
the following words : " Ibelieve I made tolerable progress in most branches
which I attended to while in this school, but there was one thing I could
not do — I could not make a declamation; I could not speak before the
school. The kind and excellent Buckminster sought especially to persuade
me to perform the exercise of declamation, like other boys, but I could
not do it. Many a piece did I commit to memory, and recite and rehearse
in my own room, over and over again; yet, when the day came when the
school collected to hear the declamations, when my name was called, and
I saw all eyes turned to my seat, I could not raise myself from it. Some
times the instructors frowned; sometimes they smiled. Mr. Buckminster
always pressed and entreated, most winningly, that I would venture,
venture only once. But I never could command sufficient resolution."

Mr. Webster once made the remark, that he could not remember the

10
time when he was unable to read a chapter in the bible; and when a mere
boy, the motto which prompted all his conduct, was: "Since I know
nothing and have nothing, I must learn and earn."

A few days after Mr. Webster had entered Exeter academy, he returned
to his boarding house one evening in a very desponding mood, and told
his friends there that the city boys in the academy were constantly laugh
ing at him because he was at the foot of his class, and had come from the
back woods. His friends endeavored to cheer him, by explaining the
regulations of the school, and telling him that the boys would soon get
tired of their unhandsome conduct, and that he ought to show himself
above their foolishness. Mr. Nicholas Emerey, who was then an assis
tant tutor in the academy, was also made acquainted with young Web
ster's troubles, and as he had the management of the second or lower class,
he treated his desponding pupil with marked kindness, and particularly
urged him to think of nothing but his books, and that all would yet come out
bright. This advice was heeded,"and at the end of the first quarter Mr.
Emerey mustered his class in a line, and formally took the arm of young
Webster, and marched him from the foot to the extreme head of the class,
exclaiming, in the mean while, that this was his proper position. Such an
event had for many days been anticipated, but when actually accomplished
the remainder of the class were surprised and chagrined.
This triumph greatly encouraged the boy Daniel, and he renewed his
efforts with his books. He did not doubt but that there were many boys
in the class as smart as himself, if not smarter; and he looked with some
anxiety to the summing up of the second quarter. The day arrived, the
class was mustered, and Mr. Emerey stood before it, when the breathless
silence was broken by these words: — " DANIEL WEBSTER gather up
your books and take down your cap."
The boy obeyed, and thinking that he was about to be expelled from
school, was sorely troubled about the cause of the calamity. The teacher
saw this, but soon dispelled the illusion, for he continued: — "Now, sir,
you will please report yourself to the teacher of the first class ! and you,
young gentlemen, will take an affectionateleave of your classmate, for you
will never see him again." That teacher is still living, is a man of dis
tinction, and has ever been a warm friend of his fortunate Pupil.

When Mr. Webster was a pupil of Dr. Woods, his father wrote him a
letter, requesting that he"would come to Elm's Farm to assist him in hay
ing for a few days. He packed up his bundle of clothes and obeyed orders.
On the morning after his arrival home, the boy went to work in the field,

11
while the father visited a neighboring town on business. About eleven
o'clock the boy came to his mother and told her he was very tired, that
his hands were blistered, and that he could not work any longer. The
kind mother excused her son, as a matter of course, and all was well.
About an hour after dinner, however, young Daniel had tackled up the
family horse, placed two of his sisters in a wagon, and taken his departure
for a famous whortleberry hill, where he spent the rest of the day scam
pering over the rocks like a young deer. His father returned at night, and
having questioned Daniel and his mother about the amount of work he had
performed, and heard the particulars, he laughed and sent him to bed.
The next morning, after breakfast, the father handed his hopeful son his
bundle of clothes, and with a smiling countenance, significantly pointed
towards Boscawen, and the boy disappeared. As he left the -house a neigh
bor saw him, and laughed.
" Where are you going, Dan ?" said he.
" Back to school," replied Daniel.
" I thought it would be so," added the neighbor, and uttered another
quiet laugh; and back to the academic shades returned the incipient states
man. The neighbor alluded to above was Thomas W. Thompson, who sub
sequently became a representative in Congress, and who, from the begin
ning, conceived a high idea of Mr. Webster's future eminence.

The father of Mr. Webster used to speak of his boys, Daniel and Eze
kiel, with great kindness, but dwelt principally upon the qualifications of
Ezekiel; and when questioned by a friend as to his reasons for so doing,
he replied: "Ezekiel is a bashful boy, who needs a word to be said of
him; but Daniel, I warrant you, will take care of himself."

-When Daniel and Ezekiel Webster were boys together, they had fre
quent literary disputes, and on one occasion, after they had retired to bed,
they entered into a squabble about a certain passage in the " Columbian
Orator," (a book of which they were both fond,) and having risen to ex
amine some of the authorities in their possession, they set their bed clothes
on fire and nearly burned up their father's dwelling. On being questioned
the next morning in regard to the cause of the accident, Daniel remarked,
" that they were in pursuit of light, but got more than they wanted."

As Mr. Webster has acquired some celebrity as an angler, it may gratify
his piscatorial friends to learn when the seeds of this art were planted in
his affections. In the spring of his fifth year, when a barefooted boy, he

12
happened to be riding along a road near his birth-place, on the same horse
with his father, when the latter suddenly exclaimed: "Dan, how would
you like to catch a trout ?" Of course he replied, that he would like no
thing better; whereupon they dismounted and the father cut a hazel rod, to
which he attached a string and hook out of his pocket, baited it with a
worm from under a stone, and told his son to creep upon a rock and care
fully throw in on the further side of a deep pool. The boy did as he was
bidden, hooked a fish, lost his balance, and tumbled into the water over
his head, and was drawn ashore by his father, with a pound trout trailing
behind. It has happened to the writer to see the pool in which this trout
was captured.
And it may be mentioned as rather a singular fact, that the only law
which he drew up and caused to be passed, when for a short time in the
legislature of Massachusetts, was a law for the protection of the common
trout and other game fish.

In his fifteenth year he was privileged to spend some months with one
of the more prominent clergymen of the day, the Rev. Samuel Woods,
who lived at Boscawen, and prepared boys for college at one dollar a week,
for tuition and board. During his stay with Dr. Woods, he was apparently
very neglectful of his academic duties, but never failed to perform all his
intellectual tasks with great credit. On one occasion the reverend tutor
thought proper to give his scholar Daniel a scolding for spending too much
of his time upon the hills and along the streams, hunting and fishing, but
still complimented him for his smartness. The task assigned to him for
his next recitation was one hundred lines of Virgil; and as he knew that
his master had an engagement on the following morning, an idea occurred
to him, and he spent the entire night poring over his books. The recita
tion hour finally arrived, and the scholar acquitted himself of his hundred
lines and received the tutor's approbation. "But I have a few more lines
that I can recite," said the boy Daniel. " Well, let us have them," re
plied the doctor; and forthwith the boy reeled off another hundred lines.
" Very remarkable," said the doctor, "you are indeed a smart boy."
" But I have another," said the scholar, and five hundred of them, if you
please." The doctor was of course astonished, but as he bethought him
of his engagement, he begged to be excused, and added — " You may
have the whole day, Dan, for pigeon shooting."

As has already been intimated he was only a few months in 'preparing
himself for college, and during that brief period he commenced and mas-

13
tered the study- of Greek, so that his tutor was wont to remark that other
boys required an entire year to accomplish the same end. Of all his
father's children Daniel Webster was, as a boy, the sickliest and most
slender; and one of his half-brothers, who was somewhat of a wag, fre
quently took pleasure in remarking, that "Dan was sent to school because
he was not fit for anything else, and that he might know as much as the
other boys." Even from his earliest boyhood he was an industrious
reader of standard authors, and previous to his entering college his favorite
books were Addison's Spectator, Butler's Hudibras, Pope's translation of
Homer, and the Essays on Man, the last of which he committed to
memory; and though he has never looked it through since his fifteenth
year, he is at the present time able to recite most of it from beginning to
end. He was particularly fond too of the Bible, of Shakspeare, and of de
votional poetry, and simply as a pleasure he committed to memory many
of the Psalms and Hymns of Dr. Watts. An English translation of Don
Quixote was another of his favorite books, the power of which over his
imagination he has described as having been very great. In addition to the
Latin classics, he studied with interest both Cicero and Virgil, but he was
particularly partial to Cicero. As he advanced in years he added Sallust,
Caesar, Horace, and Demosthenes, to the list of classic authors which he
made it his business, as it was his pleasure, to master; hence it is not sur
prising that the productions of his own mind should be distinguished for
their refined and classic elegance.

Mr. Webster went through college in a manner that was highly
creditable to himself and gratifying to his friends. He graduated in 1801,
and though it was universally believed that he ought to have received,
and would receive, the Valedictory, that honor was not conferred upon
him, but upon one whose name has since passed into forgetfulness.
The ill-judging faculty of the college, however, bestowed upon him a di
ploma, but instead of pleasing, this common-place compliment only dis
gusted him, and at the conclusion of the commencement exercises, the
disappointed youth asked a number of his classmates to accompany him to
the green behind the college, where, in their presence, he deliberately
tore up his honorary document, and threw it to the winds, exclaiming:
"My industry may make me a great man, but this miserable parchment
cannot;" and immediately mounting his horse, departed for home.

Tho3e who would like to read the first oration delivered by Mr. Web
ster, only about fifty years ago, to the people of Hanover, are referred
to the choice collections of American Antiquarians; and it is to be regretted

14
that it will not probably appear in the forthcoming edition of his worksi
Suffice it to say, that it proves his bosom to have been, even at that early
day, full of patriotism, and that in his youth the seeds of his noblest sen
timents had taken deep root. The title page was as follows: "An oration
pronounced at Hanover, N. H., the 4th of July, 1800, being the twenty-
fourth Anniversary of American Independence. By Daniel Webster,
Member of the Junior Class, Dartmouth College.
"Do thou, great Liberty, inspire our souls,
And make our lives in thy possession happy,
Or our deaths glorious in thy just defence. Addison.
Published by request, and printed at Hanover, by Moses Davis."

On his return home from college the one great thought which occupied
his mind was, that his brother Ezekiel should also receive a liberal educa
tion. But his father was poor, and how could this result be attained?
"By keeping school," said he to himself, "and this shall be the first
business of my life." No sooner had this idea occurred to him, than he
sought an opportunity to broach it to his much-loved brother. The boys
slept together, and he did this on their next retiring to bed. Ezekiel was
surprised, but delighted, for he had long felt a yearning desire to acquire
a college education. The trying circumstances of the family were of
course all discussed, and as they thought of the strong affection which ex
isted between them, and of the "clouds and shadows" which enveloped
the future, they talked and talked, and wept many and bitter tears, so
that when morning came it found the brothers still wakeful, troubled, and
unhappy, but yet determined and hopeful. On that very day, the youth
Daniel left his home to become a country schoolmaster, while Ezekiel
hastened to place himself under the preparatory tuition of the Rev. Samuel
Woods, as his brother had done before him.

The place where Mr. Webster spent the most of his time as a school
master was Fryeburg, in the State of Maine. He had been invited
thither by a friend of his father, who was acquainted with the circum
stances of the family. His school was quite large, and his salary $350,
to which he added a considerable sum by devoting his evenings to copy
ing deeds in the office of the county recorder, at twenty- five cents per
deed. He also found time during this period to go through with his first
reading of Blackstone's Commentaries, and other substantial works, which
have been so good a foundation to his after fame..

15
The writer once questioned Mr. Webster as to his personal appearance
when officiating as a pedagogue, and his reply was: "Long, slender,
pale, and all eyes; indeed, I went by the name of all eyes the country
round." During the last summer, when returning from a visit to the White
mountains, accompanied by his son Fletcher, he went out of his way to
spend a day in the town of Fryeburg. He revisited, after the lapse of
half a century, the office of the recorder of deeds, and there found and
exhibited to his son, two large bound volumes of his own handwriting, the
sight of which was of course suggestive of manifold emotions. The
son testifies that the penmanship is neat and elegant; and the father, that
the ache is not yet out of those fingers which so much writing caused
them. It is said by those who knew Mr. Webster at Fryeburg, that his only
recreation while a school teacher was derived from trout fishing, and that
his Wednesday and Saturday afternoons were almost invariably spent wan
dering alone, with rod in hand, and a copy of Shakspeare in his pocket,
along the wild and picturesque brooks of that section of country.

Mr. Webster's father was a soldier in the old French war, (so called)
and, as already mentioned, also acquitted himself with honor as a captain
under General John Stark, at the battle of Bennington. On the battle
field, as well as in the walks of civil life, they were fast friends; and the
elder Webster used to say, that General Stark always thought and talked
a great deal more about his exploits as a trapper of beaver, and a hunter,
and fighter of the Red man and Frenchman, in his earlier life, than, he
did of his revolutionary deeds. But Mr. Daniel Webster relates the fol
lowing characteristic anecdote. He was about twenty-seven years of age,
and professional business had called him to the then village, now known
as the flourishing city of Manchester, where the famous General resided.
The young lawyer called upon the hero for the purpose of paying his re
spects, and found him surrounded with friends, who with him were hard
at work drinking flip. The parties were introduced, and the moment
General Stark heard the name of Webster, he exclaimed in a loud voice,
"why, Dan Webster, you're as black as your father; and he was so
black that I could never tell when his face was covered with powder, for
he was one of those chaps always in the thickest of the fight."
It was while hunting in the immediate vicinity of Elms Farm that
General Stark had been captured by the Indians and taken to Canada,
where he was sold for a specific sum of money; and it is a common say
ing in this region, that whenever he heard his neighbors talking about

16
how much any of them were worth, he invariably mentioned the fact, that
his own value had been positively ascertained, for the Indians had once
sold him to the French for £40, and that a man was worth about what he
would fetch.

The name of Mr. Webster's tenant on Elms Farm is John Taylor. He
was transported thither by Mr. Webster about twenty years ago from the
region of Marshfield, and in several particulars he is a great man. His
height is nearly six feet and five inches; he has a heart bigger than his
body, and is really a superb specimen of American yeomanry. But his
reigning peculiarity is his attachment to his landlord. When the latter
was temporarily ill during the last summer, John Taylor watched by his
bedside night after night without closing nis eyes, performing all the
delicate duties of a nurse with the gentleness of a woman. "If I saw a
bullet coming to his heart," said he, to the writer, on one occasion, "I
would jump in the way of it and receive it myself;" and when told that
this was very strong language, he added, "I know it is, but then I should
be certain that my family would be provided for and made comfortable."
From no man living could a greater number of personal anecdotes be ob
tained, calculated to illustrate the more endearing attributes of Mr. Web
ster's heart; how he was with him, for example, when he gave an old
man — a friend of his father's — money enough to buy a small farm ; how
he accompanied him to the summit of a hill, one summer evening, and
heard him talk in the most affecting manner, as he sat musing upon the
spot where he was born, while his eyes were constantly filling with tears;
and how, on many occasions, he had descanted to him, in the most glow
ing language, on the pleasures of farming, contrasting them with the
trials and perplexities of a public life. John Taylor is also a first rate
farmer, and has performed as great an amount of hard labor as any other
man in the Union; and is deserving, in every particular, of the ardent
friendship and unlimited confidence of his landlord.

On one occasion, some years ago, when Mr. Webster was visited at
Elms Farm by some two or three hundred of his New Hampshire friends,
he addressed them, as was his wont, in a friendly and familiar way,
giving an account, as it were, of his stewardship in the capacity of a
statesman. He stood upon the porch of his own residence, and in full
view of the family burying ground, and after re-affirming the opinions he
had long entertained upon the prominent questions of the day, he con
cluded his remarks by saying: "And before changing these opinions, fel
low citizens, you will be called upon to convey my body to yonder grave-

17
yard." He uttered the sentiment while laboring under the deepest
emotion, and its effect upon his audience was to melt many of them to tears.

While upon his last visit to Elms Farm, Mr. Webster's tenant had
about twenty men in his employ making hay. On one occasion, when
they were engaged in one field, the "Lord of the Manor" went forth to
witness their operations, and having stood for some time in silence, the
smell of the hay gave new life to the blood of his youth, and taking off
his coat, and throwing it upon the ground, he demanded a fork and went
to work, declaring that he could "pitch more hay in an hour than any
man in the crowd." And he verily fulfilled his promise. He helped
load the largest wagon no less than three times, and also performed the
duties of wagon boy in as scientific a manner, too, as if this had been the
chief business of his life, instead of helping to manage the wheels of Govern
ment, officiating as a diplomatist, or delighting a listening Senate with his
eloquence.

The following story was related by Mr. Webster during a conversation
the writer had with him about the early history of New Hampshire :
Among the many prisoners who were taken by the Conewago Indians
during the old French war of 1756, in the immediate vicinity of Elms
Farm, and sold to the French in Canada, was a man named Peter Bowen.
When peace was declared he obtained his liberty and returned to his fami
ly who resided in Boscawen. In the year 1763 two Indians of the Cone
wago tribe, Sebat and his Son, came from the borders of Canada upon a
visit to the valley of the Merrimac, and happening to fall into the com
pany of Bowen spent the night with him for old acquaintance sake, and in
the enthusiasm, brought on by forest recollections, the party went through
the performances of a drunken frolic. When the time came for the Indians
to return Bowen accompanied them a few miles on their way, when, as
they were in the act of crossing a small stream running through Elms
Farm, and now known as Indian brook, the white man suddenly fell upon
his red friends, shooting one and killing the other with the butt of his gun,
and secreted their bodies in the fop of a fallen tree.
Weeks passed on, and it was rumored far and near that Sebat and his
Son had been murdered, and that Bowen was the murderer. The inhabi
tants of the Merrimac valley were well acquainted with the characteristic
code of the Indians, demanding blood for blood, and in self defence thought
it their duty to have Bowen arrested and punished. He was arrested,
tried, found guilty, and condemned to be hung, and this intelligence was
transmitted to the Conewago Indians.
2

18
During the imprisonment of Bowen, however, in the jail at Exeter, (to
which he had to be removed,) a portion of the inhabitants became im
pressed with the idea that no white man ought to be hung for killing an
Indian, whereupon a party of them, disguised as Mohawk Indians, broke
the Exeter jail open and gave Bowen his freedom, and he lived in peace
on his farm during the remainder of his days.
When Bowen died he left his farm to an only son, who lived quietly
upon it until he was seventy years of age, and the head of a large family.
The story of his father's wickedness in murdering the Indians, though it
occurred before his birth, had tinged with gloom even his happier days,
and now the thought came to possess his mind that he must atone for the
deed committed by his father. His friends remonstrated, but nothing
could deter him from his purpose; he parted with his family; many tears
were shed and lamentations uttered, but he entered upon his line of march
for Canada, feeble and old, and gave himself up as a prisoner to the Cone
wago nation. The Indians were astonished at this instance of heroism,
and instead of taking blood for blood they adopted him as a chief among
their chiefs, and subsequently permitted him to return to the Merrimac
valley, where he died in the midst of his children.

As the devoted affection which existed between Daniel Webster and
his brother Ezekiel was one of the peculiarities of their lives, and as they
also resembled each other in many particulars, both physical and intellec
tual, it cannot but be proper to insert in this place a brief sketch of the lat
ter gentleman.
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 distin
guished for classical literature; his knowledge of Greek particularly was
beyond that of his contemporaries in college; his knowledge of Eno-lish lit
erature 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 in
tends 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 dul
ler minds have put into maxims and rules.
He made himself master of the law as a science, and became well ac
quainted with its practice in his native State. He went up to first principles

19
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 ef
fort in any thing he did; all was natural and easy, as if intuitive. There
was nothing about him of that little bustling smartness so often seen in or
dinary 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 parade 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 commence
ment of his life as a reasoning being, responsible for his own actions, to
the close of it, he preserved the most perfect consistency of character; no
paroxysms of passion, no eccentricities of genius, were ever found in him.
His equanimity was only equalled by his firmness of purpose. In this
he was most conspicuous; he thought leisurely and cautiously, and having
made up his mind, he was steadfast and immoveable. Having no hasty or
premature thoughts, he seldom had occasion to change his opinions, and was
therefore free' from those mortifying repentances so common to superior
minds of warmer temperament. By honesty of purpose and soundness of
judgment he kept ajust balance in weighing all matters before him. All
his firmness and equanimity, 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. He suffered no moral or mental weakness in
his whole path of diity, 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 the world.
He never sought public honors, nor literary or political distinctions,
and therefore had none of those throes and agonies so common to vault
ing ambition; not that he declined all public trusts, when he was con
scious that he could do any good to his fellow men. He was several
years a member of one or other branch of the legislature of New Hamp
shire, 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

20
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 eloquence was impressive and commanding.
There was in his delivery a slight defect in the labial sounds, in the fa
miliar use of his voice, which was rather pleasant to the listener than
otht. -wise, for it was a proof of a natural manner; but, warmed by his sub
ject, a. more rich, full, and sonorous voice, was seldom heard in any pub
lic body; not that his tones were delicate or mellifluous, but full of ma
jesty and command; free from arrogance, timidity, or hesitation. His
gestures were graceful, but not in the slightest degree studied; his lan
guage was rich, gentlemanly, select, but not painfully 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 harmonious whole. His library was rich in works of merit,
ancient and modern. The history of literature and science was as fa
miliar to him as that of his native State, and he had the means of turn
ing 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 classical
pursuits. Ezekiel Webster was one of those great men, rare instances in the
world, who had thrown away ambition, and who professed 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-
as any one; but, whatever the presages were, he looked at coming events
unmoved, leaving their results to heaven.
For several of the last years of his life, he was curtailing his business
in order to devote some portion of the prime of his manhood to literary
and scientific pursuits, so congenial to his heart; but in this he was dis
appointed, for, yet while in the fulness of his strength, he was called ta
leave the world, for whose benefit he was formed. 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
unexpected 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 moun-

21
tain scenery, if he had wished to exhibit a commander able to bear the
fatigues and duties of council and of war. He was lamented by his pro
fessional brethren, and sincerely mourned by the community at large.*

As Dartmouth college gave Mr. Webster the greater part of his clas
sical education, it ought to be mentioned how it was that he was subse
quently enabled to make an adequate return to that institution. 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 constitu
tion of the State, proceeded 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 presi
dents, two sets of professors 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 un
comfortable state of things. The faculty of both institutions were highly
respectable, and capable of building up any literary and scientific semi
nary, had they been under different auspices. The lawyers were con
sulted, and the most distinguished of them, Smith, Mason, and Webster,
were of the opinion that the act of the legislature of New Hampshire was un
constitutional, and of course not valid. It was conceded that there were
many difficulties in the case; but it was indispensable that the question
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?"
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
opinion of the court was given by Chief Justice Richardson, in favor of
ihe validity and constitutionality of the acts of the legislature, and judg-
*Knapp's Life of Webster.

22
ment* was accordingly entered 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 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. Web
ster had no such fears. He knew the judges well enough to believe,
that while they were not anxious to meet constitutional questions, when
ever they were fully brought before them, the subject would be most sol
emnly 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 by this argument the reputation he had
acquired as a profound constitutional lawyer. Chiefly through his ac
knowledged instrumentality, the judgment of the State court was re
versed, the acts of the legislature declared null and void, as being un
constitutional. 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.*

Ever since the first free school was established amidst the woods that
covered the peninsula of Boston, in 1636, the schoolmaster has been
found on the border line, between savage and civilized life; often, indeed,
with an axe to open his own path, but always looked up to with respect,
and always carrying with him a valuable and preponderating influence.
It is to this characteristic trait of New England policy that the country
owes the first development of Mr. Webster's powers and the original
determination of his whole course in life; for, unless the school had sought
him in the forest, his father's means would not have been sufficient to
send him into the settlements to seek the school. The first upward step,
therefore, would have been wanting, and it is not at all probable that any
* Knapp's Life of Webster.

23
subsequent exertions on his part would have enabled him to retrieve it.
The value of such a benefit cannot, indeed, be measured, but it seems to
have been his good fortune to be able, at least in part, to repay it; for no
man has explained with simplicity and force, as he has explained them,
the very principles and foundations on which the free schools of New
England and the Union rest; or shown, with such a feeling of their im
portance and value, how truly the free institutions of our country must be
built on the education of all.*

As Mr. Webster has been a prominent politician for about forty years,
it may gratify curiosity to know when and how he entered upon this im
portant career. It was before he had attained his thirtieth year, when
the times were stormy, and party spirit ran high in view of a war with
Great Britain. He entered the field like one who had made up his mind
to be decided, firm, and straight-forward in all his actions. No politician
was ever more direct and bold, and 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 doubt
ing were satisfied and the complaining silenced. In the worst of times
and the darkest hour he had faith in the redeeming qualities of the people.
They might be wrong, but he 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 the man
agement of the national affairs to that of the sagacious and indefatigable
raftsmen on his native Merrimac, who had falls and shoals to contend with
in their course to the ocean — guiding fearlessly and "skilfully over the for
mer — 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 con
vention of the great spirits in the county of Rockingham, where he then
resided, and such representatives from other counties as were sent to this
convention 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 the
* American Quarterly Review.

24
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 printed at the time,
and much admired throughout the Union. From this time he belonged
to the United States and not to New Hampshire exclusively. Massachu
setts also took as great an interest in his career as his native State. After
the above debut crowds gathered around him on every occasion that he
appeared, and his speeches were invariably received with the most sincere
and heartfelt applause.*

It was in the year 1805, and of course in the twenty-third year of his
age, that Mr. Webster was tendered the vacant clerkship of the Court of
Common Pleas for the county of Hillsborough, New Hampshire. His
father was one of the judges of said court, and the appointment had been
bestowed upon his son by his colleagues as a token of personal regard.
The office was worth some fifteen hundred dollars, which in those days,
and that section of country, was equal to the salary of Secretary of State
at the present time. Delighted with this realization of his most sanguine
hopes, the father hastened to communicate the joyful intelligence to his
son. That son was then a student in the office of Mr. Gore, in Boston. He
received the news with sensations of gladness that he had never before
experienced. With a loud throbbing heart he announced the tidings to
his legal counsellor and friend, and to his utter astonishment that far-see
ing and sagacious man expressed, in the most pointed manner, his utter
disapprobation of the proposed change in his pursuits. "But my father is
poor, and I wish to make him comfortable in his old age," replied the
student. #
" That may all be," continued Mr. Gore, " but you should think of the
future more than of the present. Become once a clerk and you will al
ways be a clerk, with no prospect of attaining a higher position. Go on
and finish your legal studies; you are indeed poor, but there are greater
evils than poverty; live on no man's favor; what bread you do eat, let it
be the bread of independence; pursue your profession; make yourself use
ful to the world and formidable to your enemies, and you will have no
thing to fear. "
The student listened attentively to these sound arguments, and had the
good sense to appreciate them. His determination was immediately made;
and now came the dreaded business of advising his father as to his intended
•Knapp's life.

25
course. He felt that it would be a difficult task to satisfy him of its pro
priety, and he therefore determined to go home without delay, and give
him in full all the reasons of his conduct.
In three days, in spite of the inclemency of the weather, for it was win
ter, he had reached the dwelling on Elms Farm. According to his own
account, he arrived there in the evening, and found his father sitting be
fore the fire. He received him with manifest joy. He looked feebler
than he had ever appeared, but his countenance lighted up on seeing his
clerk stand before him in good health and spirits. He lost no time in al
luding to the great appointment; said how spontaneously it had been made,
how kindly the chief justice proposed it, and with what unanimity all as
sented. During this speech, it can be well imagined how embarrassed
Mr. Webster felt, compelled, as he thought from a conviction of duty, to
disappoint his father's sanguine expections. Nevertheless, he com
manded his countenance and voice, so as to reply in a sufficiently assured
manner. He spoke gaily about the office; expressed his great obligation
to their honors, and his intention to write them a most respectful letter;
if he could have consented to record anybody's judgments, he should have
been proud to have recorded their honors, &c, &c. He proceeded in
this strain till his father exhibited signs of amazement, it having occurred
to him, finally, that his son might all the while be serious. "Do you in
tend to decline this office?" he said at length. "Most certainly," replied
his son. "I cannot think of doing otherwise. I mean to use my tongue
in the courts, not my pen; to be an actor, not a register of other men's
actions." For a moment Judge Webster seemed angry. He rocked his chair
slightly, a flash went over his eye, softened by age, but even then black as
jet, but it soon disappeared, and his countenance regained its usual seren
ity. "Well, my son," said Judge Webster finally, "your mother always
said that you would come to something or nothing, become a somebody or
a nobody; it is now settled that you are to be a nobody." In a few days
the student returned to Boston, and the subject was never afterwards
mentioned in the family.*

Within six months after Mr. Webster had declined the county court
clerkship, he was, even as a student, in Mr. Gore's office, remarkably
successful in accumulating money for his legal services, and being aware
of the fact that his father was considerably embarrassed in his circum
stances, he resolved to go home and liquidate all the pending claims. He
* March's Reminiscences of Congress.

26
arrived at home ostensibly for a friendly visit. It was Saturday night,
and he sought an early opportunity to have a private -interview with his
father. "Father, I am going to pay your debts," said he. "0, my son,
that can never be; you know not how numerous they are."
"But I can, and will, father; and that too before next Monday night."
On the Tuesday morning following, Judge Webster was a free man,
and his son Daniel was on his return to Boston.

At the time that Mr. Webster quitted Portsmouth for Boston, he was
doing the heaviest law business of any man in New Hampshire; he was
retained in nearly all the important causes, and but seldom appeared as
the junior counsel. His practice was chiefly in the' circuit courts, and
during the last six weeks of his labors, previous to his departure for
Boston, his earnings amounted to only five hundred dollars. This was
the result of a journey into every county in the State, and was really the
primal cause of his removal to a wider sphere of action.

It was in the year 1817 that Mr. Webster took up his permanent resi
dence in Boston. During his career as a member of Congress his legal
and private interests had materially suffered, and he felt the need of a
broader field than Portsmouth for his future action. He had already
become identified with the interests of the New England metropolis, and
the more opulent merchants doing business there were ready to employ
him. Boston was then the residence of some of the first lawyers of the
nation; such men for example as Dexter, Prescott, Sullivan, Shaw, Gor-
ham, and Hubbard, and there seemed to be little room for another in the
upper class of the legal fraternity; but Mr. Webster seemed to walk
into this distinguished company like one who had a right to be there,
and, though many opened wide their eyes, none dared to question his right
to be there. In a very few months his name appeared as senior counsel
in many important causes, and he deported himself like one who was
simply enjoying his birth-right. His practice was not confined to the
county of Suffolk, but extended to the neighboring counties, and others in
the interior of the State. His powers as an advocate and a lawyer were
at once conceded, though some found fault with his manners at the bar
as a little too severe and sharp; this, however, was soon forgotten in the
admiration that everywhere followed him. The people were always with
him, and few had the hardihood to declare themselves his rival.
As were his manners at the bar some thirty years ago, so are they now,
whenever he appears in a deliberative assembly. He begins to state his
points in a low voice, and in a slow, cool, cautious, and philosophical

27
manner. If the case is of importance, he goes on, hammering out, link
hy link, his chain of argument, 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, however, that he comes out in the
majesty of intellectual grandeur, and pours forth the opulence of his
mind; it is when the arrows of the enemy have hit him, that he is all
might and soul, and showers his words, weight,, and fire. His style of
oratory is founded on no model, but is entirely his own. He deals not
with the fantastic and poetical, but with the matter-of-fact every-day
world, and the multifarious affairs of his fellow-men, extricating them from
difficulties, and teaching them how to become happy. He never strives
to dazzle, astonish, or confuse, but goes on to convince and conquer by
great but legitimate means. When he goes out to battle, he goes alone,
trusting to no earthly arm but his own. He asks for no trophies but his
own conquests; he looks not for the laurel of victory, but it is proffered to
him by all, and binds his brow until he goes out on some new exploit.*

For a great many years past Mr. Webster has had a regular law office
in the city of Boston, and supplied with a valuable library of 5 or 6,000
volumes, which has, however, for the most part, been in the keeping of a
law partner. In alluding to this fact on one occasion he informed the
writer that it was with the utmost difficulty that he could ever bring him
self to attend to any legal business when sojourning at either of his country
residences. "It not unfrequently happens," said he, "that people come
to me just I as am about to leave Boston for Marshfield, with the request
that I shall attend to their suits. I decline the business, and they insist upon
my taking it in hand. I take their papers, put them in my green bag, and
determine that I will attend to their cases when at Marshfield. When ar
rived at this place my mind becomes so taken up with its manifold enjoy
ments that I forget all about the green bag, unless there happens to come a
rainy day. In that event I sometimes look at the musty papers, but it is
not unfrequently the case, that the bag travels from Boston to the sea
shore and thence to the mountains, and back again, without ever be
ing disturbed. The truth is, you cannot mention the fee which I value
half as much as I do a morning walk over my farm, the sight of a dozen
yoke of my oxen furrowing one of my fields, or the breath of my cows
and the pure ocean air."

The first meeting of Mr. Webster with Mr. Mason was in a criminal
trial. A noted person, belonging to the Democratic party, had been in-
*Knapp'sLife of Webster.

28
dieted for counterfeiting, and it was deemed particularly important that he
should be acquitted. Mr. Mason stood foremost among his professional
brethren, and was of course employed to defend the accused. When the
trial came on, the Attorney General happened to be absent, whereupon
Mr. Webster was delegated to conduct the prosecution for the State. Mr.
Mason came into court and conducted himself somewhat after the manner
of Goliah; but when Mr. Webster, like another David, (to use the lan
guage of a Cotemporary) "came down upon his distinguished opponent like
a shower of hail," Mr. Mason was astonished, and began to tremble for
the fate of his client. It so happened, however, that a Democratic jury
acquitted their friend; but Mr. Mason subsequently expressed himself as
having been struck with the high, open, and manly ground taken by Mr.
Webster, not resorting to technicalities but sticking to the main points of
the law and the facts, and at that early period prophesied that his future
public career would be particularly brilliant and useful.

In legal acquirements and logical skill Jeremiah Mason and Jeremiah
Smith were not the unworthy associates and antagonists of Daniel Web
ster; while, in the combination of gifts, which makes the commanding
orator, he stood with them, as he has done everywhere else, like Mount
Washington among the other mountains of New England. Mr. Smith
has often said that in single qualities he had known men superior to Ml
Webster; that Hamilton had more original genius; Ames greater quick
ness of imagination; that Marshall, Parsons, and Dexter were as remark
able for logical strength; but that, in the union of high intellectual qual
ities, he had known no man whom he thought his equal.*

Mr. Webster practised law in Portsmouth nearly nine years, and dur
ing that time one of his best friends, and also his most prominent competi
tor, was the distinguished Jeremiah Mason. On one occasion a gentleman
called upon the former for the purpose of securing his services in a lawsuit,
but Mr. Webster was compelled to decline the engagement, but recom
mended his client to Mr. Mason.
"What do you think of the abilities of Mr. Mason?" said the gentle
man. " I think him second to no man in the country," replied Mr. Webster.
The gentleman called upon Mr. Mason, and having secured his promise
of assistance, he thought he would gratify his curiosity, and therefore ques
tioned him as to his opinion of Mr. Webster. " He's the very devil, ia
*Morison's life of Jeremiah Smith.

29
any case whatsoever," replied Mr. Mason, " and if he's against you, I
beg to be excused."
Mr. Webster, who has since met Pinkney, and Wirt, and Emmet at
the bar, has recently been heard to say that he never feared any of them
so much as Jeremiah Mason.

The birthplace and mountain farm of Mr. Webster having already
been described in this volume, the writer would now give an account of
Marshfield, the home, pre-eminently, of the distinguished statesman. The
place thus designated is in the town of Marshfield, county of Plymouth,
and State of Massachusetts. It is more of a magnificent farm, with ele
gant appendages, than the mere elegant residence of a gentleman; a place
indeed, which, if in England, could hardly be described without frequent
use of the word baronial. It lies some thirty miles from Boston, compre
hends about two thousand acres of undulating and marshy land, and slopes
down to the margin of the ocean. The original owners of the land, now
combined into one estate, were Nathaniel Ray Thomas, a noted loyalist,
who was the hero of Trumbull's poem of McFingal, and the famous
Winslow family, which has given to Massachusetts, as colony and State, a
number of her earlier governors. It came into Mr. Webster's posses
sion somewhere about twenty-five years ago, and is the domain where he
has chiefly gratified his taste for, and exhibited his knowledge of, the in
teresting science of agriculture. The great good that he has here accom
plished in that particular can hardly be estimated; but for all the pains and
trouble which the place has cost him, the proprietor is amply rewarded by
the fact that he is now the owner of one of the very best farms in the whole
country. Like Elms Farm, Marshfield has also its tenant or superintendent, whose
name is Porter Wright, and who in all particulars is amply qualified for his
responsible position. From him was gathered the information that when
Mr. Webster came' to Marshfield the farm yielded only some fifteen
tons of English hay, while the product in this particular during the present
year amounted to nearly four hundred tons, in addition to two hundred
tons of salt hay; also of corn eight hundred bushels, potatoes one thousand
bushels, oats five hundred bushels, turnips five hundred bushels, and beets
four hundred bushels. In 1825 the inhabitants of Plymouth county knew
nothing of kelp and sea-weed as articles that would enrich their lands; but
Mr. Webster discovered their value, set the example of using them, pro
fited thereby, and they are now considered so indispensable that some of
the farmers in the country will team it a distance of thirty miles. Princi
pally at his own expense Mr. Webster laid out a road to the beach on

30 .
which the kelp was thrown by the sea; and not a single ton of the article is
know to have been drawn on the land before he went to Marshfield. In
October of this year one hundred and fifty teams were employed after a
storm in drawing this rich manure on to the estates adjoining Marshfield,
exclusive of those engaged by Mr. Porter Wright. And some of Mr.
Webster's neighbor^ allege that they could well afford to give him five
tons of hay a year for having taught them the use of ocean manure. In
olden times, too, it was but precious seldom that the traveller's eye fell
upon any but a wood-colored house in the vicinity of Marshfield Farm,
while now, neatly painted dwellings may be seen in every direction,
and many of their occupants acknowledge that Mr. Webster has not
only helped them to make money by giving them employment, but has
also taught them how to make themselves comfortable. Some of them,
indeed, go so far as to say, that if the town of Marshfield should make
Mr. Webster a present of thirty thousand dollars, they would only
be rendering an adequate return for his agricultural services. He has
not only taught them how to enrich their soils, but in stocking his
own farm with the very best of blooded cattle, he has also, with a
liberal hand, scattered them upon the farms of his neighbors.
Indeed, the raising of fine cattle is Mr. Webster's agricultural hobby,
and it is a rare treat to take a walk with him over his grazing fields, or
through the spacious yards adjoining his overflowing barns, and to hear
him descant upon the goodness and beauty of his Alderney cows, with
their gazelle eyes, or the brilliant color of his Devon oxen, and contrast
ing their excellencies with those which distinguish the breeds of Hertford
shire and Ayrshire. A better judge, of cattle than he is not to be found
any where; and though his stables are abundantly supplied with horses,
for these he entertains no uncommon attachment; but then, again, for sheep
and swine he has a partiality. Of the latter animal he once raised a sin
gle litter of twelve, which were all entirely white, and when killed aver
aged in weight no less than four hundred pounds. And those who have
a passion for the oddities of the quadruped world, may, by taking a short
walk into a particular field, have a sight of several South American lamas,
which help to give a romantic character to the farm. And when the
reader comes to add to the foregoing three varieties of geese, ducks of all
kinds, domesticated in this country, Guinea hens, peacocks, and Chinese
poultry, to an almost unlimited extent, he may well imagine that the living
animals of Marshfield compose a "cattle show" of no common order.
The mind that has had the good sense to enrich Marshfield Farm with
so much of the useful and interesting, has also covered it with the results
of the most refined taste. The flower garden, for example, covers nearly

31
an acre of i ground, and contains the richest and most beautiful varieties of
plants, peculiar to the country. Of forest trees, too, there is a multitu
dinous array, of every size. and every variety; and it has been estimated,
that at least one hundred thousand of them have grown to their present
size from seeds planted by Mr. Webster's own hands; for, as he has
often said, when he originally came to Marshfield, he was too poor a man
to think of patronizing such establishments as nurseries, even if they had
¦ existed to any extent. Of fruit trees there is also an extensive collection;
and while one orchard contains some three hundred trees, that remind one
of the Pilgrim Fathers, so weather-beaten and worn in their attire are
they; another, of a thousand trees, presents the appearance of an army
of youthful warriors; and then the farm is so appropriately intersected
with roads and avenues, gravelly walks and shady pathways, that every
thing which the visiter notices seems to be in exactly the right place, and
is so completely come-at-able that the idea of being fatigued never enters
the mind; and how pre-eminently is this the case, when the visiter is ac
companied in his walks by the ruling spirit of that place, as well as of the
country itself. But the value and pictorial beauty of Marshfield are greatly
enhanced by the existence, in the immediate vicinity of the mansion, of a
trio of little lakes, all of them fed by springs of the purest water. The
two smaller ones are the favorite haunts of the common geese and the
duck tribes; but the larger one, which studs the landscape very charm
ingly, is the exclusive domain of a large flock of wild geese,- which Mr.
Webster has domesticated. He informed the writer that his first at
tempts to tame these. beautiful creatures were all unsuccessful, until the
idea occurred to him, that perhaps they might be made contented with
their civilized abode, provided they could have awarded to them small
sedgy islands, such as were found at their breeding places in the far north,
where they might make their nests and remain undisturbed by the fox
and other prowling animals. The experiment was tried; and while the
geese were rendered contented with their lot, the lake itself has been
greatly improved in picturesque beauty, by its wild yet artificial islands.
Indeed, the rural scenery of Marshfield is all that could be desired by the
painter or poet; but when they come to add thereto an immense expanse
of marsh land, veined with silver streams, dotted with islands of unbroken
forest, skirted with a far-reaching beach, and bounded by the blue ocean,
they cannot but be deeply impressed with the magnificence of its scenery.
It now becomes necessary to mention the buildings of Marshfield Farm.
They number some two or three dozen, at the least calculation, embracing
the mansion and adjoining out-houses, the residence of the chief tenant,
the dairyman's cottage, the fisherman's house, the landlord's agricultural

32
office, several large barns, the gardener's house, and a variety of subor
dinate buildings. But the chief attraction is the mansion itself; the main
part of it was built in 1774, but it has been more than doubled in size since
then, and now appears like a modern establishment. It stands upon the
summit of a grassy lawn, is partly overshadowed by a stupendous elm,
and is completely surrounded with a piazza. The ground floor alone con
tains no less than nine handsomely furnished rooms, all opening into each
other, the largest and most westerly one being a Gothic library. Pictures,
pieces of statuary, choice engravings, and curiosities of every description,
are displayed in the greatest profusion, and the feminine taste everywhere
manifested gives a peculiar interest to the whole establishment. Among
the more prominent art attractions are portraits of Mr. Webster, by
Stuart and Healey; one of Lord Ashburton, by Healey; one of Judge
Story, by Harding; portraits of Fletcher Webster and wife; one of the
late Edward Webster; a Roman Girl, by Alexander; Cattle pieces, by
Fisher; marble busts of Mr. Webster himself and of Mr. Prescott, and a
bust and very beautiful crayon drawing of "Julia," the late Mrs. Apple-
ton. The last mentioned portrait took a most powerful hold upon the
writer's imagination from the moment he first beheld it; and this impres
sion was greatly strengthened by discovering that the spirit of this de
parted daughter, and most loyely, gifted, and accomplished woman, seemed
to pervade the entire dwelling, where she had been the joy of many hearts.
To her was Mr. Webster indebted for his library, as it now appears, for
it was built after her own design; and a more delightful place, especially
when Mr. Webster is present, seated in his arm-chair, and in a talkative
mood, could not be easily imagined. Mr. Webster's entire collection of
books has been valued at forty thousand dollars; but his law library is in
Boston; his agricultural and natural history library in a small office build
ing, situated in one corner of the Marshfield garden; while the miscella
neous library is alone collected in the Gothic library hall. But the works
here collected are all of a standard and substantial character, as the fol
lowing specimens will show; for here are to be found: Audubon's Birds of
America; the Encyclopaedia Britannica; the best editions of Bacon, Wash
ington, and Franklin; all the dictionaries that were ever heard of; every
thing good in the way of history and poetry, together with an extensive
sprinkling of the old divines. And so much for a general description of
Marshfield.

It has been decreed by Mr. Webster that, after his death, his remains
shall be deposited in a tomb on the soil of Marshfield; and such a recept
acle has he already prepared for himself and family at a cost of at least

33
one thousand dollars. It occupies the summit of a commanding hill,
overlooking the ocean and the site of the first church ever built in the
town of Marshfield, and is enclosed with an iron paling. The writer
visited this sacred spot in company with Mr. Webster, and the only
words that he uttered during the visit were uttered while pointing to the
tomb and the green sward, and were as follows;
" This will be my home; and here, three monuments will soon be erected;
one for the mother of my children; one, each, for Julia and Edward; and
there will be plenty of room in front for the little ones that must follow
them. "

Of the many choice relics which adorn the mansion at Marshfield, there
is not one that Mr. Webster values more highly,* or descants upon with
more feeling and affection, than a small profile, cut in block and hand
somely framed, which is thus described in his own writing:
"MY EXCELLENT MOTHER. "
"D. W."
The likeness is that of a highly intellectual person, and bears a striking
Tesemblance to Mr. Webster.

Directly in front of Mr. Webster's Marshfield mansion, in a sunny
and pleasant locality, are two small elm trees, which were planted by the
father to the memory of his children Julia and Edward. The ceremony
of their planting was as follows: Mr. Webster had been missing from
his study for an hour, or more, when he suddenly made his appearance
before his son Fletcher with two small trees and a shovel in his hand,
and summoned his attendance. He then walked to the spot already
designated, and, having dug the holes, and planted the trees without any
assistance, he handed, the shovel to Fletcher, and remarked, in a subdued
voice, as he turned away, "My son, protect these trees after I am gone; let
them ever remind you of Julia and Edward. "
Those who know Mr. Webster best say that he has been a changed
man since the death of his children.

The oldest house now known to be standing on the soil of Massachu
setts, is said to be the one originally built and occupied by several genera
tions of the Winslow family, and this stands upon a lot comprehended in
Mr. Webster's farm. It is an aristocratic looking place, and though
weather-beaten and worn, applications are frequently made to rent it, but
the proprietor respects it for its antiquity and associations, and, with char-
'3

34
acteristic taste, prefers to have it remain unoccupied — in a kind of poetic
solitude.

Ghief, in regard to age at any rate, among Mr. Webster's retainers at ¦
Marshfield, is his friend Seth Peterson, whom he once mentioned in a
speech as the author of an argument he had been uttering on the price of
labor, and whom he designated as a " sometime farmer and sometime
fisherman on the coast of Massachusetts." A stout, brawny, sensible,
jovial man is this " Ancient Mariner of Marshfield," whose home, par
excellence, is Mr. Webster's beautiful yacht Lapwing. The twain have
been booh companions for about twenty-five years; and the bays, and
inlets, and headlands of Massachusetts bay, are as familiar to them both as
the best fishing grounds are to one and the fields of learning to the other.
And Seth Peterson is a good shot withall, and during the duck and snipe
shooting season is the constant attendant of Mr. Webster; as also when
he occasionally goes forth into a belt of forest land, stretching parallel with
the sea coast of Plymouth county, for the purpose of killing a deer, which
feat is sometimes accomplished before a late breakfast hour. As Mr. Web
ster is an early riser, he has a standing order, that when he is at Marshfield
Seth Peterson shall have the very first interview with him, and while
this is obeyed as a duty and considered a compliment, it results in a sys
tematic arrangement for the day's sporting. The grace with which Mr.
Webster is in the habit of doing every thing, is as conspicuous in a fish
ing expedition, as at a dinner party, or a diplomatic interview. He has a
decided eye for the picturesque in all things, but especially manifests it
in his costume; and it is exceedingly pleasant to observe the kindness of
heart which he invariably manifests, when, on returning to his fish-house
from a morning excursion far out at sea, he proceeds to parcel out his cod
fish and mackerel or tautang to his rustic neighbors. But those who
would be made fully acquainted with Mr. Webster's many amiable quali
ties and his skill as a fisherman must consult Seth Peterson.
And, by the way, those who are in doubt as to the existence of a great
sea-serpent may be pleased to know that the testimony of both Mr.
Webster and his skipper is on the side of the affirmative of this question.
They both allege that they once saw some living animal answering to the
popular description of this creature; and Mr. Webster asserts that a
drawing taken of a specimen in Plymouth bay, was pronounced by the
naturalists of Boston as exactly corresponding with an animal found on the
coast of Norway, near the great whirlpool, and delineated by Tompoppi-
dam in his history of Norway.
The writer was once enjoying a morning walk with Mr. Webster over

35
his Marshfield grounds, when we were joined by a Boston gentleman who
came to pay his respects to Mr. W. Hardly had we proceeded a hundred
yards, before a flock of quails ran across the road, when the stranger worked
himself into an intense excitement and exclaimed, " 0, if I only had a gun,
I could easily kill the whole flock; have you not one in your house, sir?"
Mr. Webster very calmly replied that he had a number of guns, but
that no man whatsoever was ever permitted to kill a quail or any other
bird, a rabbit or a squirrel, on any of his property. He then went on to
comment upon the slaughtering propensities of the American people; re
marking that in this country there was an almost universal passion for
killing and eating every wild animal that chanced to cross the pathway of
man; while in England and other portions of Europe, these animals were
kindly protected and valued for their companionship. " This is to me a
great mystery," said he, " and so far as my influence extends, the birds
shall be protected;" and just at this moment one of the quails already
mentioned mounted a little knoll, and poured forth a few of its sweet and
peculiar notes, when he continued, "there! does not that gush of song
do the heart a thousand fold more good than could possibly be derived
from the death of that beautiful bird ?" The stranger thanked Mr. Web
ster for his reproof, and subsequently informed the writer that this little
incident had made him love the man whom he had before only admired as
a statesman.

Among the choice relics which enrich the Marshfield library is the
collection of thirteen silver medals, which were voted to General Wash
ington by the old Congress, and which, long after his death, were pur
chased by Mr. Webster of a branch of the Washington family. The
reader will probably remember that these medals were offered to Con
gress with a view of having them deposited in the national library, and
that a committee, of which the Hon. Edward Everitt was chairman,
strongly recommended their purchase at almost any price. Strange as it
may seem, a heavy debate arose out of this proposition. Just at this
time, it so happened that Mrs. "Webster was deliberating about the pur
chase of a cashmere shawl, when Mr. Webster suggested that she
should, for the time being, go without the shawl, and that the money
thus saved should be invested in the Washington medals. Mrs. Webster
most joyfully assented, and in a very quiet way the medals were trans
ferred into her possession. In the mean time, the conclave of wise men
in the forum were debating the propriety of paying a trifling tribute to the
memory of Washington; and, after exhausting their learning and about
one week of their valuable time, they concluded to purchase the medals,,
and were dumbfoundered to find them altogether beyond their reach.

36
It comes not within the province of the writer to describe , these thir
teen medals in detail; but, as he learned from Mr. Webster that the
reverse side of the principal one was partially designed by Washington
himself, the following description is submitted:
Occasion. — Evacuation of Boston by the British troops.
Device. — The head of General Washington in profile.
Legend. — Georgio Washington, supremo duci exercitum adsertori liber-
tatis cometia Americana.
Reverse. — Troops advancing towards a town which is seen at a distance;
troops marching to the river; ships in view; General Washington in front,
and mounted, with his staff, whose attention he is directing to the em
barking enemy.
Legend. — Hostibus primo Fugatis.
Exergue. — Bostonium recuperatum 17 Martii, 1776.
When it is remembered that Mr. Webster is considered the greatest
intellectual character of America, it is a striking coincidence that he
should have been born in the shadow, as it were, of Mount Washington,
the most elevated in New England, and that his home should be, not only
in full view of the landing place of the Pilgrim Fathers, but also on the
margin of the Atlantic ocean; as if earth would commemorate his birth,
history his deeds, and ocean claim the privilege of floating his name to
the remotest nations of the world.

The poet, Park Benjamin, was once questioned as to the man whom he
had in his minds's eye when he wrote the following very beautiful sonnet,
entitled "A great name;" and his reply was, " Daniel Webster, of
course:" "Time ! thou de^troyest the relics of the past,
And hidest all the foot-prints of thy march
On shattered column and on crumbled arch,
By moss and ivy growing green and fast.
Hurl'd into fragments by the tempest blast
The Rhodian monster lies ; the obelisk
That with sharp line divided the broad disc
Of Egypt's sun, down to the sands was cast :
And where these stood, no remnant trophy stands,
And even the art is lost by which they rose ;
Thus with the monuments of other lands,
The place that knew them, now no longer knows.
Yet triumph not, 0, Time ; strong towers decay,
But a great name shall never pass away !"

On one occasion, when Mr. Webster was Secretary of State in 1841
he came home from the department, and, stepping into his front parlor

37
took down from a mantle-piece a very beautifully ornamented basket,
hung it upon his arm, and disappeared. In the course of half an hour
he returned to the house and handed Mrs. Webster the said basket full
of eggs. She was, of course, very much astonished at this development,
on account of the inappropriate nature of the deed, and accordingly in
quired the cause; when Mr. Webster replied, that- he had beenall the
morning discussing with the diplomatique corps the affairs of some half
dozen of the principal kingdoms of the world, and, as he was fond of
seeing both ends meet, he only wished to realize how it would seem for
him, a Secretary of State, to turn from such imposing business to the op
posite extreme, of purchasing, within the same hour, a basket of newly-
laid eggs.

Mr. Webster's attachment to the Bible has already been mentioned;
indeed, he loves and he reads that priceless volume as it ought to be loved
and read. He never makes a journey without carrying a copy with him;
and the writer would testify that he never listened to the Story of the
Savior, or heard one of the Prophecies of Isaiah, when it sounded so
superbly eloquent as when coming from his lips. Those admitted to the
intimacy of his conversation alone can tell of the eloquent fervor with
which he speaks of the inspired writings; how much light he can throw
on a difficult text; how much beauty lend to expressions that would
escape all but the eye of genius; what new vigor he can give to the most
earnest thought; and what elevation, even to sublimity.
It would be impossible for any one to listen half an hour to one of his
dissertations on the Scriptures, and not believe in their inspiration, or his.
And yet, while his private conversations and public productions attest how
deeply he is imbued with the spirit of the Scriptures, neither the one nor
the other ever contained the slightest irreverent allusion to any passage in
them, anything in the way of illustration, analogy, or quotation, which
would seem to question their sanctity. He has been scrupulously delicate in
this regard, and therein differs widely from most of his contemporaries in
public life; as he reads and admires the Bible for its eloquence, so does he
venerate it for its sacredness.*

No man in the country is more fond of out-door recreations than Mr.
Webster. He has no taste or fondness for in-door amusements. He
never played a game of chess, or checkers, or billiards, or ten pins, in
his life; and it is said that he is equally ignorant of cards, unless it is
* March's Reminiscences of Congress.

38
whist, a game which he will play with ladies and gentlemen on a winter
evening for an hour or so. To out-door sports he has always been ad
dicted, and to this manly taste he is unquestionably indebted for the
robust constitution of his manhood. In his childhood and youth he was
far from robust; indeed, he was supposed to possess a feeble constitution.
There are letters in existence written from one friend to another, in which
it was frequently stated that young Webster would be likely consigned
to an early grave, for he appeared like one inclined to consumption.

Mr. Webster has been heard to say that he never enjoys himself to
such perfection, in any place whatsoever, as when spending a few weeks
at midsummer upon his New Hampshire farm. The associations of his
birthplace and boyhood seem to have an iron grasp upon his affections,
which even the important duties and high aspirations of the Statesman
cannot cloy or render insipid. And when here he visits, and is visited, by
his sturdy and very worthy neighbors without any ceremony. Through
out the whole region is he spoken of as "the Squire," and while the nation
and the world admire him for his intellect, his rustic friends love him for
the goodness of his heart. Many call upon him simply to shake him by
the hand and inquire after his health; some come to consult him on topics
connected with agriculture; and others, in the simplicity of their hearts,
think it perfectly proper to consult him in regard to their petty law suits;
and he ever treats them, as a matter of course, with the utmost kindness,
helping them out of their troubles "without money and without price."
To those who have been in the habit of paying him retaining fees of five
thousand dollars or more, such conduct on the part of Mr- Webster
must indeed appear strange.

There are very few men in this or any other country who possess the
faculty of winning and keeping personal friends to as great an extent as
Mr. Webster. So simple and unpretending is he in his manners, and
so kind hearted and affectionate, that those- who are privileged to know him
intimately, have their admiration greatly increased, and learn to love him
with a devoted affection. That office seekers should entertain an opinion
adverse to the above is not surprising, for his most devoted friends would
not have the hardihood to assert that he has an unconquerable affection
for this class of amiable gentlemen. On the contrary, he undoubtedly dis
likes them, as would any other public man who had been bothered by them
for nearly half a century. The truth is, he does not treat them often
times with the severity they deserve, and there are a far greater number
of instances to be mentioned, of his giving offices to poor men, than of his

39
turning the cold shoulder to those whose chief ambition was to cut a dash.
He is beyond all question as much a man of feeling as he is a man of intel
lect, and the writer has yet to learn the name of the first man who ever
knew Mr. Webster and did not love him.

It has ever been his habit, on all proper occasions, to attend to the legiti
mate duties of his position, either as lawyer, as statesman, or diplomatist;
but he has a rule pf long standing, which prohibits the introduction, by his
friends and neighbors, of all political topics, when visiting him in his re
tirement. When at Elms Farm, they may talk to him about the scenery,
the legends, the history, the crops, and the trout of the Merrimac valley;
and when at Marshfield they may talk about the ocean and its finny tribes,
of all the manifold pleasures of agriculture, of literature, and the arts; but
they must, if they would please him, keep silent on all the topics, without
exception, which make mad the politicians of the day. Though it has
been his fortune to figure extensively in the political history of the country,
it is firmly believed that his affections have ever been far removed from
all such vanities. The necessities of his country and his ideas of duty
have alone made him a politician.

Mr. Webster's sport of angling has given him many opportunities for
composition; his famous address on Bunker Hill having been mostly
planned out on Marshpee brook; and it is said that the following exclama
tion was first heard by a couple of huge trout, immediately on their being
transferred to his fishing basket, as it subsequently was heard at Bunker
Hill by many thousands of his fellow-citizens : — " Venerable men ! you
have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously
lengthened out your lives that you might behold this joyous day."

Among the subordinates of the State Department at the present time,
(1851,) is a very worthy colored man named Charles Brown, who has
been in Mr. Webster's employment for about thirty years. Indeed, Mr.
W. has never been in Washington for any length of time since he first
entered Congress without having by his side this faithful servant. A few
years ago it came to Mr. Webster's knowledge that this servant had
purchased a lot of ground and built him a comfortable house, whereupon
he was questioned by Mr. W. as to his unexpected success.
" Where did you get the money to purchase so fine a house ?" asked
Mr. Webster.
"I am glad to say, sir, that it all came out of your pocket," replied the
man; " it is the money which you have given me on holidays and other
occasions."-

40
From this it would appear that his occasional free gifts were sufficient,,
in one instance, to make a man comfortable for life.

The following well authenticated fact was related to the writer by an
eye witness, and is only a specimen of many that might be mentioned,
tending to illustrate the character of Mr. Webster's heart. Somewhere
about the year 1826, a certain gentleman residing in Boston, was thrown
into almost inextricable difficulties by the failure of a house for which he
had become responsible to a large amount. He needed legal advice, and
being disheartened, he desired the author of this anecdote to go with him
and relate his condition to Mr. Webster. The lawyer heard the story
entirely through, advised his client what to do, and to do it immediately,
and requested him to call again in a few davs. After the gentlemen had
left Mr. Webster's office he came hurriedly to the door, called upon the
gentlemen to stop a moment, and having approached them with his pocket
book in hand, he thus addressed his client: "It seems to me, my good
sir, if I understood your case rightly, you are entirely naked; is it so?"
The client replied that he was indeed penniless, and then of course ex
pected a demand for a retaining fee. Instead of that demand, however,
Mr. Webster kindly remarked, as he handed the client a bill for five
hundred dollars :
"Well, there, take that, it is all I have by me now. I wish it was
more; and if you are ever able, you must pay it back again."
The client was overcome, and it may be well imagined that he has ever
since been a "Webster man." Surely a man who can command the
admiration of the world by the efforts of his gigantic intellect, and also-
possessesthe above self-sacrificing habit of making friends, must indeed be
a great and a good man.

Those upon whom will hereafter devolve the duty of writing, in detail,
the life of Mr. Webster, will find a mine of intellectual wealth in his
correspondence. The total number of letters that he has written is unusu
ally great, even for a man of distinction, and though many of them are
necessarily brief, a large proportion of them contain original opinions of
peculiar value and interest. Since they have been addressed to persons
in every sphere of life, from the lords and ladies of England, and the
scholars, farmers, and merchants of our own country, to those in the hum
bler walks of life, in every State of the Union, their "subject themes" are
of course manifold; but it will be found that they are all distinguished
either for wisdom, wit, learning, beauty, or affection. Indeed, in the
•opinion of the writer, a more delightful book could not be imagined than

41
that would be, composed of a collection of Mr. Webster's letters. And
in this place it may do no harm to mention, that there are in existence
several volumes of manuscript notes which were recorded by two ladies
"who were members of his household during his residence in England, and
which are almost exclusively devoted to his observations and opinions, as
casually expressed in a familiar manner.

Few men, who have ever figured at all, in the national legislature,
have ever had as little to do with State Governments as Mr. Webster;
and it was in alluding to this fact that he once made the following remarks,
while upon a visit to the city of Syracuse :
"It has so happened, that all the public services which I have rendered
in the world, in my day and generation, have been connected with the Gen
eral Government. I think I ought to make an exception. I was ten days a
member of the Massachusetts Legislature, (laughter,) and I turned my
thoughts to the search of some good object in which I could be useful in
that position; and, after much reflection, I introduced a bill which, with
the general consent of both houses of the Massachusetts Legislature,
passed into a law, and is now a law of the State, which enacts that no
man in the State shall catch trout in any other manner than in the old
way, with an ordinary hook and line. (Great laughter.) With that ex
ception, I never was connected, for an hour, with any State Government,
in my life. I never held office, high or low, under any State Govern
ment. Perhaps that was my misfortune.
"At the age of thirty, I was in New Hampshire, practising law, and had
some clients. John Taylor Gilman, who, for fourteen years, was Gov
ernor of the State, thought that, a young man as I was, I might be fit to
be an Attorney General of the State of New Hampshire, and he nomi
nated me to the Council; and the Council taking, it into their deep con
sideration, and not happening to be of the same politics as the Governor
and myself, voted, three out of five, that I was not competent, and very
likely they were right. (Laughter.) So, you see, gentlemen, I never
gained promotion in any State Government."

As Mr. Webster has attained to his present prominent position chiefly
by means of his own exertions, it is reasonable to conclude that he has
been a hard working man. All who know him, know this to be a fact.
Because he is a man of giant intellect, and has had to do with the greater
national questions of the day, it has been'supposed that his business habits
were not plain and practical. This is a great mistake, and the writer will
endeavor to prove the contrary, by sketching his habits while attending to
his official duties as Secretary of State.

42
He is usually among the first at his post of duty in the department, and
among the last to leave. The first business he attends to is to read his
mail, and this he accomplishes in a short time, and after a peculiar man
ner. The only letters that he reads with attention are the official ones;
and, where the questions they bring up do not require investigation, are
generally disposed of immediately; all political letters are merely glanced
at, and then filed away for future consideration; those of a private and per
sonal character are also laid aside, to be attended to or answered early on
the following morning at his residence; while everything of an anonymous
character is simply opened, torn in two pieces, and committed to the basket
of waste paper. The amount of business that he sometimes transacts during a
single morning, may be guessed at when it is mentioned that he not unfre
quently keeps two persons employed writing at his dictation at the same time;
for, as he usually walks the floor on such occasions, he will give his chief
clerk a sentence in one room to be incorporated in a diplomatic paper, and,
marching to the room occupied by his private secretary, give him the
skeleton, or perhaps the very language, of a private note or letter. In
addition to all this, he makes it his business to grant an audience to all
who may call upon him, receiving dignitaries with dignity, and all friends,
strangers, and even office seekers, with kindness and cordiality; and, in
this connexion, it may be well to state that those who make short visits
are generally the most successful in attaining their ends, especially if said
ends are " their country's,*' or office.
As touching his deportment towards his subordinates in office, it is in
variably of the most agreeable character. It is his law that every man
shall both know and do his duty; but he treats them all as if he knew
them to be possessed of feelings as sensitive as his own. The conse
quence is, that every man in his department is a warm personal friend.

As Coleridge says of Southey, Mr. Webster "possesses but is not
possessed by his genius." No man ever had his powers more completely
under command. At a moment's warning the vast stores of his mind are
ready, and the most impromptu speech rolls from his tongue in perfect
composition. He is always logical in conversation — this is his great char
acteristic; enchains the attention of every listener by the driest argument,
and has a manner of the most singularly mixed grace and power. His elo
quence, when he warms, is perfectly overpowering, and then he bursts
out with a flow of poetry which would hardly be thought possible from the
severe cast of his mind. Miss Martineau, who met him at a dinner party
at the British legation at Washington, says, there is no merrier man. She
describes him as leaning back at his ease on the sofa, shaking it with burst

43
after burst of laughter, telling stories, cracking jokes, or smoothly dis
coursing to the perfect felicity of the logical part of one's constitution.
Such is his private boon companionship. Abroad, however, he is the stern,
plain dressed, grave republican; and the common man who passes him in
the street thinks he can read the cares and responsibilities of the whole
United States' Government on his great brow.*

As a lawyer, pursuing his professional avocations in the judicial courts,
and as a member of the Senate, he has ever formed a striking character.
In the Supreme Court, where he has often plead before the judges, and in
which many of those masterly forensic arguments were delivered that con
stitute a considerable portion of his published productions, he is described
by an eye witness as sometimes standing firm as a rock, while listening to
the Chief Justice delivering a judgment; his large cavernous eye wide
awake, his lips compressed, and his whole countenance in that intent stillness
which instantly fixes the eyes of the stranger. It was not uncommon for
him to saunter into the court, throw himself down, and lean back against
the table, while seeming to see nothing about him; and there was no
knowing whether he would by-and-by go away, or whether he would rouse
himself suddenly and stand up to address the judges. Still, however it
might turn out, it was amusing to see how the court would fill after the
entrance of Mr. Webster, and empty when had he returned to the Senate
Chamber. In his pleading, as in his speaking in the Senate, it was inter
esting to see one so dreamy and nonchalant roused into strange excite
ment. It was something to watch him moved with anxiety in the toil of
intellectual conflict; to see his lips tremble, his nostrils expand, the perspi
ration start upon his brow; to hear his voice vary with emotion, and to
trace the expression of laborious thought, while he paused for minutes to
gether, to consider his notes and decide upon the arrangement of his argu
ment. In the Senate his services have always been acknowledged to be inval
uable; he there displayed industry, energy, and sound-headedness . He
spoke but seldom; but when he did so, it was generally on some constitu
tional question where his logical powers and legal knowledge were brought
into play, and where his authority was considered oracular by assemblages
of the first men in the country. When speaking to the Senate he invariably
manifested great earnestness, and seemed to believe every sentiment he
uttered, and he convinced by appealing to the reasoning powers of his listen
ers rather than to their passions. Before entering on the delivery of a

*The British and Foreign Review.

44
speech, on one occasion, he might be seen absent and thoughtful, making
notes. When he rose, his voice was moderate and his manner quiet, with
the slightest possible mixture of embarrassment; his right hand resting
upon his desk, and the left hanging by his side. Before his first
head was finished, however, his voice would rise so as to fill the cham
ber and ring again to the remotest corner; then he would fall back into
his favorite attitude, with his left hand tinder his coat skirt, and his right
in full action. At this moment the eye would rest upon him as upon one
inspired, seeing the invisible and grasping the impalpable. When the
vision had passed away, the change was astonishing; he sat at his desk writ
ing letters or dreaming, so that he did not always discover when the
Senate was going into a division. Some one of his party had not seldom
to jog his elbow, and tell him that his vote was wanted.*

Mr. Webster once remarked to the writer that no man could become
eminent in any profession, and especially in the law, without the hardest
and most laborious study; and, whatever of genius may be awarded to him,
it is certain that he is chiefly indebted to his own personal exertions for
his present commanding position as an orator, a statesman, a jurist, and
a man of letters. He has ever been in the habit of performing all his
duties, official and private, like a downright business man; indeed, the
entire story of his life proves him to have been at all times a practical
man. Twenty-five years ago, for example, he was acknowledged to be
one of the most, if not the most, efficient laborer in the useful and ardu
ous toils of the Congressional committee rooms, and of practical legis
lation; and the country is indebted to him for not a few of the important
improvements in our laws. The most remarkable, is probably the Crimes
act of 1825, which, in twenty-six sections, did so much for the criminal
code of the country. The whole subject, when he approached it, was
full of difficulties and deficiencies. The law in relation to it remained
substantially on the foundation of the act of 1790; and that, though
deserving praise as a first attempt to meet the wants of the country, was
entirely unsuited to its condition, and deficient in many important par
ticulars. Its defects were immense and manifold; but Mr. Webster's
act, which, as a just tribute to his exertions, bears his name, cures all
those defects, and alone gives him the title of a humane benefactor of
mankind. It is said, that no man at that time but Mr. Webster, who,
in addition to his patient habits of labor in the committee room, possessed
the general confidence of the House, and had a persevering address and
* Martineau 's Society in America.

45
promptitude in answering objections, could have succeeded in so signal
an undertaking.

The admirable head and powerful form of Mr. Webster make him
everywhere conspicuous; the brow is ample; the eye deep sunk and dark,
and seated immediately below the strongly marked and shaggy eyebrow;
the features and contour denote, most expressively, the strength of every
mental faculty — reflection, judgment, memory, analysis, all are there;
the countenance in repose sometimes becomes absent and thoughtful, and
has the expression of an inward employment of the reasoning powers,
independent of all the external objects, and for the time wholly forgetful
of their presence; and then, as if the mental exercise had resulted in the
most undoubted conviction, the whole becomes radiant with intelligence
and animation. The contrast and transition of expression are very fine.
His busts represent him more fully than his portraits.*

The style of Mr. Webster's English, pure, and bold, and massive, is
moulded by severe and classic taste, to convey the conception of a mind
of vast proportions. In the knowledge and comprehension of all subjects
connected with the sciences of law and government he is a master, and
has attained the distinguished appellation of "Expounder and Defender
of the Constitution.*"

"What little I have accomplished," Mr. Webster once said, "has
been done early in the morning." Like nearly all those men who now
occupy a prominent position before the world, he has been, and is, an
early riser. If on either of his farms, he literally rises with the lark, and
goes forth to enjoy the quiet companionship of his cattle; and if in the
city, he is up before the sun, and among the first visiters to the market,
where he not only attends to the necessary duty of supplying his table,
but also enjoys the conversation of the various rural characters whom he
meets there, and with whom it is his pleasure to be on intimate terms.
As his habit of early rising and going to market is known, many citizens,
who have not otherwise an opportunity of seeing him, embrace these
morning occasions of meeting him.
The time intervening between his morning walk and the hour of break
fast is always devoted to business, to the writing of letters, marking out
patches for foreign governments, or unravelling the knotty political ques
tions of the day.
The great charm of Mr. Webster's speeches is the ardent patriotism

*Maury's Statesmen of America.

46
and devotion to liberty that pervade them; a patriotism, not of a fanatical,
but universal character; not hating other countries from love of native
soil; but radiating from home a feeling of charity and good-will upon all
mankind; a devotion to liberty as far removed from licentiousness as
tyranny; liberty inseparable from virtue, from public and private morals;
that imposes checks upon itself, and guards against the abuse of its own
power. It is this which gives to his works their wide-spread popularity.
It is this which has acclimated them everywhere. It is this which has
carried the English language further than English arms have ever done;
to regions of thick-ribbed ice, where day and night make one sad division
of the year; to the utmost isles of the sea, and lands beyond the solar
road.*

Among the items of piscatorial information which have dropped from the
lips of Mr. Webster, are the following: When he was a boy, the imperial
salmon, as well as shad, annually visited the Merrimac river in immense
numbers; and among the discoveries that he then made was this, that
while the latter fish invariably and exclusively ascended the Winnipiseo-
gee, the former never failed to continue their journey farther up the
Merrimac. It often happened, too, that they left the tide water in com
pany, but as surely as they approached their parting place, they parted in
masses, and were soon as widely removed from each other as honest
politicians are from fanatical abolitionists. The discovery in question
prompted investigation, when it was found that the temperature of the
two streams was very different; for while one of them was rather warm
and ran out of the great Lake Winnipiseogee, the other flowed from the
ice-cold springs of the White Mountain; and the further fact was ascer
tained, that while the shad preferred to cast its spawn in deep and quiet
waters, the salmon accomplished the same end in the most shallow and
rapid streams among the hills.
Mr. Webster also once mentioned to the writer the following circum
stances of a kindred character. In speaking of the blue-fish, (the tailor
of Chesapeake bay,) he said that its favorite food at the north was the
moss-bUnker or bony herring, and that it was one of the very few fish
which masticate their food instead of swallowing it whole; and hence it is
that their line of travel is usually designated by an oily scum which covers
the water when a school is swimming by. This scum is designated by the
fishermen as a slick, and when one of them is seen upon the surface of
the ocean the fisherman is certain of getting into a school of blue fish, and
of course enjoys fine sport.

' March's Reminiscences of Congress.

47
In speaking of the tautang or black fish, he also mentioned the singular
circumstance, that it was within his recollection when this fish was
entirely unknown in Massachusetts bay, though abundant there at the
present time; and the writer knows from experience that it is not taken
as far south as Chesapeake bay, excepting once and a while, one in the
harbor of Charleston, whose ancestors were taken there a few years ago
by way of experiment.

On one occasion, (when first Secretary of State, but at home on a brief
visit,) he happened to be out fishing for mackerel in his smack, off Marsh
field. The fish were abundant, and there was quite a number of local
fishermen on the ground. While the sport was at its height, however,
Mr. Webster discovered in the offing, rapidly approaching, what he sup
posed to be a stranger sail. He questioned Seth Peterson in regard to
the matter, and was convinced that his suspicions and fears were correct;
whereupon he impatiently demanded in what direction, with the present
wind,. the smack could sail the fastest ? The reply was, "with her eye
towards Halifax;" when Mr. Webster exclaimed, "Its a hard case,
Skipper, but press forward with all speed, for the master of yonder vessel
is evidently an office seeker."
The truth was, there lived a man in the neighboring town of Scituate
who had for months past been bothering him for an appointment, so that
the fears of the Secretary were well grounded.

Forty years ago a journey from Washington city to New England was
an important undertaking, and during the early spring months almost an
impossibility. The consequence was, that, at the adjournment of Con
gress, a party of members from the north would sometimes club together,
and, chartering a comfortable vessel, return home by water. Of such a
party was Mr. Webster a member in the spring of 1812, and, though
they anticipated a tedious voyage, he was the only individual who had
the sagacity to take with him a collection of books. Of all those who
profited by these books, there was one honorable gentleman who was more
famous for his much speaking than for his wisdom, and in this particular
not unlike some of his successors of the present day. The first book that
he lighted upon was Gulliver's Travels, and in this he was so intensely
interested as to read it through a number of times at the expense occa
sionally of sweet sleep and warm dinners; and, when he returned the
volume, he thanked Mr. Webster for the use thereof, told him it was
one of the most interesting books he had ever read, and then added, " Do
you really believe, sir, that it is an authentic record?" "As a matter of

48
course," replied Mr. Webster, " since it is distinguished for its re
markable minuteness."

Many years ago, when Mr. Webster was travelling through the State
of Ohio, accompanied by a friend, he chanced to stumble upon a jovial
party of Buckeye farmers who were enjoying the sport of a turkey shoot
ing match. Having pulled up his horses, for the purpose of satisfying
his curiosity, he was invited to try his hand, and accepted the offer. He
selected what he thought one of the best rifles, examined it with the air
of a good shot, raised it to his eye, and sent a bullet directly through the
centre of the target. The biggest of the turkeys was immediately pre
sented to him, and then the Buckeye gentlemen worked themselves into
a state of excitement as to who the stranger marksman could be. They
invited him to partake of a dinner with them at the adjoining tavern, and
he assented. While at the table Mr. Webster's friend thought it his
duty to introduce the " great unknown" to the company; and, having
done so, what was their astonishment to learn that he was the same man
who had delivered a famous speech in Congress. He of course gratified
his newly-made friends by addressing them a few appropriate remarks;
and, when he continued his journey, they accompanied him on the way
a distance of twenty miles. And they tried hard, too, to induce him to
make another of his " crack shots;" but he was, of course, too sagacious
to run the risk of losing his recently acquired reputation.

A writer in the Virginia Advocate, who happened to hear Mr. Web
ster's speech in reply to Colonel Hayne, thus uniquely chronicled his
opinion of the orator:
" He was a totally different thing from any public speaker I ever heard.
I sometimes felt as if I were looking at a mammoth treading, at an equable
and stately pace, his native cane brake; and, without apparent conscious
ness, crushing obstacles which nature had never designed as impediments
to him."

On one occasion in 1834, just as Mr. Webster had risen in his seat to
present a memorial to the Senate, a person seated in the gallery, and hav
ing the appearance of a preacher, suddenly shouted out: "My friends,
the country is on the brink of destruction. Be sure that you act on cor
rect principles. I warn you to act as your consciences may approve.
God is looking down upon you, and if you act upon correct principles you
will get safely through." As soon as he had made an end of this brief
oration he very leisurely stepped back, and made his way out of the gal-

49
lery before the officers of the house had time to reach him. The pre
sident and Senate were all surprised, and it was some time before the
usual tranquility was restored. During the commotion Mr. Webster
had remained standing, and the first sentence that he uttered was this:
"As the gentleman in the gallery has concluded, I will proceed with my re
marks."

When Mr. Webster was at the Capon Springs, the yeomanry of that
portion of Virginia came a distance of fifty miles to shake him by the
hand; one old revolutionary soldier having walked no less than fifteen
miles; and it is said that when he concluded the address there delivered,
an old man went towards him with tottering steps, and having put his arms
around him, exclaimed: "God bless you, for you are the greatest and best
man in the world."

The following circumstance is a somewhat remarkable instance of the
effect of Mr. Webster's eloquence. There had been a constitutional
question pending between the Charlestown and Warren bridges, which
connect the city of Boston with the main land, and Mr. Webster had
delivered an argument in favor of the former, when the price of the shares
thereof immediately rose from two hundred to twelve hundred dollars,
while those of the other went down to a most ruinous extent.

A gentleman of Nantucket once accosted a friend by saying: "I have
wished to see you for some days; for I am in trouble, and wish your
friendly advice." "What can it be," replied the other. "Why, I have
a lawsuit, and Webster is opposed to me; what shall 1 do?" "My advice
is," was the answer, "that your only chance of escape is to send to
Smyrna and import a young earthquake.
When Mr. Webster was in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1847, he
concluded a brief speech in the following manner:
"Gentlemen, allow me to tell you of an incident. At Raleigh, a gen
tleman purposing to call on me, asked his son, a little lad, if he did not
wish to go and see Mr. Webster. The boy answered, 'Is it that Mr.
Webster who made the spelling book, and sets me so many hard lessons;
if so, I never want to see him as long as I live."
"Now, gentlemen, I am that Mr. Webster, who hold sentiments, on
some subject, not altogether acceptable, I am sorry to say, to some por
tions of the South. But I set no lessons. I make no spelling-books.
If I spell out some portions of the Constitution of the United States in a
4

50
manner different from that practised by others, I readily concede, never
theless, to all others a right to disclaim my spelling, and adopt an ortho
graphy more suitable to their own opinions, leaving all to that general
public judgment to which we must, in the end, all submit." And when
he took his seat the following toast was submitted: "Here's to the agree
able schoolmaster — who sets no lessons."

At the time that Col. Hayne made his attack upon Mr. Webster in
the Senate, that paragon of a man and political-writer, Joseph Gales, esq.,
happened to be present. Hearing that Mr. Webster intended to reply,
and would probably be quite brief, he resolved to try his hand, for this
particular occasion, at his long-neglected vocation of short-hand reporter.
He undertook the task, but finding that the "reply" was Ukely to occupy
a number of hours instead of some thirty minutes, the magnitude of the
labor that it would be to write out his notes appeared so formidable that
he shrunk from it as an impossibility, with the many engagements that
demanded his attention. The friends of Mr. Webster urged upon Mr.
Gales the imperative necessity of writing out the speech, but the prospect
was gloomy, when suddenly an intimation was received from Mrs. Gales,
(who had in former years been in the habit of assisting her husband in
elaborating his reports) that she would do all in her power to write out the
speech in full. The result was, that in the course of a week a copy was
presented to Mr. Webster in the handwriting of Mrs. Gales, and when
published in the JVational Intelligencer had an unprecedented circula
tion. The original notes, adorned with a few unimportant alterations in
the handwriting of Mr. Webster himself, were subsequently neatly bound
in a volume, and now constitute one of the attractions of Mr. Gales' pri
vate library. And the writer of this paragraph has been informed by
Mr. Gales that the superb speech in question was far more brilliant and
impressive in its delivery than it now appears upon paper.

In the great argumentative conflict between Mr. Webster and Colonel
Hayne, the latter complained of the former's assault upon him instead of
Colonel Benton, who had preceded him in the debate, and who was the origi
nator of the controversy. Mr. Webster, who had never thought proper
before that time to notice Colonel Benton in debate, replied to Colonel
Hayne, " that it was a matter of no consequence who was the drawer, he
had found a responsible endorser, and he chose to look to him."
At a dinner party a few evenings thereafter, Mr. Webster and Mr.
Preston, of South Carolina, (Hayne's successor in the Senate,) happened
to be placed opposite to each other at table, and were indulg ing in sportive

51
conversation, when, (in reference to something Mr. Webster playfully
addressed to a lady beside him,) Mr. Preston observed to Mr. Webster,
" I will maintain any thing the lady asserts." Mr. Webster replied,
" that he should require no endorser for the lady." " And yet," rejoined
Mr. Preston, " I have known you to resort to an endorser in preference to
a drawer." The allusion was manifest, and though appreciated for its
wit, was more highly thought of as evidencing the elevated tone of feeling
which could render subservient to purposes of social pleasure, even the
sharpest weapons of political warfare.

On the evening following the delivery of the reply to Colonel Hayne
there was a reception at the White House, and the rival champions hap
pening to be present on the occasion, were of course the lions. The
East-room was crowded to excess, and while Mr. Webster stood at one,
end, chatting with his friends, apparently but little exhausted by the exer
tion of the day, severe as it had been, the flush of excitement still linger
ing upon his noble countenance, Colonel Hayne stood at the other, re
ceiving the congratulations of his friends, and bearing himself like a south
ern gentleman, as he was in every particular, and as if the idea of being
numbered with the vanquished had never entered his mind. With others
he went up to compliment Mr. Webster on his brillant effort, but before
he had a chance to speak the former accosted him with his usual courtesy;
" How are you this evening, Colonel Hayne ?" To which the Colonel
replied good humoredly, " none the better for you, sir !"

Portraits and busts of Mr. Webster have been executed almost without
number, but no artist has had better opportunities of representing him, or
has succeeded more completely, than Mr. Healey. His picture of the
United States Senate Chamber, as it appeared during the delivery of the
famous reply to Colonel Hayne, is a production of great merit and value,
and in every particular a worthy representation of the memorable scene.
The subject was indeed a passive one, and did not admit of any display of
merely physical action, but the interest was that of pure intellect and
matter of fact patriotism, wherein it differed materially from what are gen
erally termed historical paintings. It is however an historical picture of a
high order, for it contains veritable portraits of one hundred and thirty
persons, a large proportion of whom are distinguished American states
men* while the remainder are composed of some of the chief literary
men of the country, and a few of the ladies who adorned the society of
Washington city at the time of the great debate. In the centre of this truly
splendid audience stands Mr. Webster, noble beyond compare in mere

52
stature, but with a flood of the most elevated thoughts beaming from his
countenance. He stands directly in front of the President of the Senate,
(Mr. Calhoun,) but instead of looking at him, at his antagonist, (Colonel
Hayne,) or at the audience, he seems to be in a momentary trance, with
his eyes fixed on vacancy, as if marshalling his thoughts for this burst of
eloquence :
" While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects
spread out before 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 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, bel
ligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fra
ternal 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 advanced, 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 interrogatory 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 characters 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 senti
ment, dear to every true American heart, Liberty and Union, now and
FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPERABLE !" *v" -
Mr. Healey's picture is the result of many laborious years, and he may
congratulate himself with the reflection, that he has not only produced a
work of decided excellence in itself, both as a gallery of portraits, but as
an historical picture, and one also which will increase in value continu
ally. When he first formed the purpose of painting this picture, he was en
gaged in executing a series of portraits of the Presidents of the United
States, and other distinguished American statesmen, under a commission
from the late King of the French, who desired to add them to the great
historical collection in the Royal museum of Versailles. Mr. Healey was
also subsequently engaged in painting the portraits of historical personages
in England, for the same patron and the same destination, at which time
he was kindly permitted to suspend this commission, in order that he
might repair to America, and paint from life the likenesses introduced in
the large picture. Before he could resume his labors in England, the
revolution of 1848 terminated the Royal commission; but he returned to

53
France with the fruit of his studies and labors in this country, that he
might be able to mature the composition and complete the execution of his
great picture, with the advantage of constant reference to the productions
of the old masters, and in the spring of 1851 the work was completed.

A sanctimonious lady once' called upon Mr. Webster, in Washington,
with a long and pitiful story about her misfortunes and poverty, and asked
him for a donation of money to defray her expenses to her home in a
western city. He listened with all . the patience he could manage, ex
pressed his surprise that she should have called upon him for money
simply because he was an officer of the Government, and that, too, when
she was a total stranger to him, reprimanded her in very plain language
for her improper conduct, and handed her a note of fifty dollars.

The following characteristic anecdote is related of Mr. Webster, and
is said to have occurred when he was much engaged in the Senate, and at
a period of great excitement in the councils of the nation.
He had called upon the cashier of the bank where he kept an account,
for the purpose of getting a draft discounted, when that gentleman ex
pressed some surprise, and casually inquired why he wanted so much
money ? "To spend; to buy bread and meat," replied Mr. Webster, a
little annoyed at this speech.
" But," returned the cashier, "you already have upon deposite in the
bank no less than three thousand dollars, and I was only wondering why
you wanted so much money."
This was indeed the truth, but Mr. Webster had forgotten it; in de
voting his mind to the interests of his country, he had forgotten his own.

Those who have blamed, or may blame, Mr. Webster for his occa
sional apparent indifference to the questions which agitate the public mind,
will do well to remember that his motto is, that
" home questions will improve by keeping."
His whole career as a statesman and a diplomatist has illustrated the
wisdom of this course of conduct, and indeed, it is the only one upon
which a solid and permanent reputation can be built. The history and
present position of the journal known as the National Intelligencer, con
stitute another prominent illustration of the truth of the motto.

It is undoubtedly a fact beyond dispute, that no American has been more
frequently entertained at complimentary dinners, during the last half cen
tury, than Mr. Webster, and it has occurred to the writer that his read-

54
ers might be pleased to peruse the following toasts or sentiments. They
are selected from a large number of similar character, and may be con
sidered as fairly echoing the opinions of the public in regard to their dis
tinguished subject: Charleston.
Our Guest. He has a heart big enough to comprehend his whole country — a head wise
enough to discern her best interests ; we cheer him on his way to view her in all her va
rious aspects; well assured, that the more he sees of her, the better he will like her.
Concord.
Daniel Webster. A workingman of the first order. New Hampshire rejoiced in the
promise of the youth; his country now glories in the performance of the man.
Boston.
Our distinguished Guest. Worthy the noblest homage which freemen can give, or a
freeman receive — the homage of their hearts.
New York.
Our Guest, Daniel Webster. To his talents we owe a most triumphant vindication of
the great principles of the Constitution. Baltimore.
Daniel Webster. His countrymen award him the proudest honors of statesmanship, and
the Republic has recorded his services on the enduring pillars of her Union.
Baltimore.
His country will never forget that his fame has extended her own amongst the nations
of the world. Capon Springs.
Daniel Webster, our distinguished Guest. The jurist and statesman, who has illustrated
the glory of our country. The champion of the Constitution and the Union, who has
sown the seed of constitutional liberty broadcast over the civilized world.
Cincinnati.
The Constitution of the United States. Ambiguous and obscure only to the ambitious
and corrupt; when assailed by such, may there ever be found among the people a Daniel
who can interpret the writing. He may be cast among lions, as many as you please; but
even there, will he be found the master spirit. Bangor.
Daniel Webster. The pride of his country and the glory of human nature.
Hallowell.
Our distinguished Guest. The Granite State has the honor of his birth, the Bay State
of his residence, but to the Federal Union belongs his services and talents.

55
Hallowell.
The Granite Slate. She has well deserved the name, since she has produced a mighty
rock, our only defence against general corruption. Albany.
The Constitution of the United States and Daniel Webster, inseparable now, and in
separable in the records of time and eternity.

Daniel Webster. Maryland shows her attachment to the Union by honoring its ablest
defender. Syracuse.
The Constitution and its greatest expounder; the Union and its ablest defender.
New York.
The State of Massachusetts honored in a citizen who is received with the acclamations of
the world. Cincinnati.
(The following was sent to a dinner-party by a lady.)
Dante* Webster — "Westward the eastern star has bent its way,
May more than empire bless its cloudless ray."*

Considered merely as literary productions, Mr. Webster's speeches
and forensic arguments take the highest rank among the best productions
of the American intellect. They are also thoroughly national in their
spirit and tone, and full of principles, arguments, and appeals, which
come directly home to the hearts and understandings of the great body of
the people. They contain the results of a long life of mental labor em
ployed in the service of the country. They give evidence of a complete
familiarity with the spirit and workings of our institutions, and breathe
the bracing air of a healthy and invigorating patriotism. They are replete
with that true wisdom which is slowly gathered from the exercise of a
strong and comprehensive intellect on the complicated concerns of daily
life and duty. They display qualities, of mind and style which would give
them a high place in any literature, even if the subjects discussed were
less interesting and important; and they show, also, a strength of personal
character, superior to irresolution and fear, capable of bearing up against
the most determined opposition, and uniting to the utmost boldness in
thought the utmost intrepidity in action. In all the characteristics of
* Journals of the day.

56
great literary performances, they are fully equal to many works which
have stood the test of ages, and baffled the skill of criticism. Still, though
read and quoted by every body, though continually appealed to as author
ities, though considered as the products of the most capacious understand
ing in the country, few seem inclined to consider the high rank they hold
in our literature, or their claims among the greatest works which the
human intellect has produced during the last fifty years.
They have an interest and value apart from the time and occasion of
their delivery, for they are storehouses of thought and knowledge. The
speaker descends to no rhetorical tricks and shifts;" he indulges in no
parade of ornament. A self-sustained intellectual weight is impressed on
every page. He rarely confounds the processes of reason and imagination,
even in those popular discourses intended to operate on large assemblies.
He betrays no appetite for applause, no desire to win attention by the
brisk life and momentary sparkle of flashing declamation. Earnestness,
solidity of judgment, elevation of sentiment, broad and generous views of
national policy, and a massive strength of expression, characterize all his
works. We feel, in reading them, that he is a man of principle, not a
man of expedients; that he never adopts opinions without subjecting them
to stern tests, and that he recedes from them only at the bidding of rea
son and experience. He never seems to be playing a part, but always
acting a life.
The ponderous strength of his powers strike us not more forcibly than
the broad individuality of the man. Were we unacquainted with the his
tory of his life, we could almost infer it from his works. Every thing in
his productions indicate the character of a person who has struggled
fiercely against obstacles, who has developed his faculties by strenuous
labor, who has been disciplined in the affairs of the world. There is a
manly simplicity and clearness in his mind, and a rugged energy in his
feelings, which preserve him from all the affectations of literature and
society. He ia great by original constitution. What nature originally
gave to him, nature has to some extent developed, strengthened, and
stamped with her own signature. We never consider him as a mere
debater, a mere scholar, or a mere statesman; but as a strong, sturdy,
earnest man. The school and the college could not fashion him into any
foreign shape, because they worked on materials too hard to yield easily to
conventional moulds.
The impression of power we obtain from Webster's productions — a
power not merely of the brain, but of the heart and physical temperament,
a power resulting from the mental and bodily constitution of the whole

57
man — is the source of his hold upon our respect and admiration. We feel,
that under any circumstances, in any condition of social life, and at almost
any period of time, his great capacity would have been felt and acknow
ledged. He does not appear, like many eminent men, to be more pecu
liarly calculated for his own age than for any other; to possess faculties
and dispositions which might have rusted in obscurity, had circumstances
been]also propitious. We are sure that as an old bai'on of the feudal time, as
an early settler of New England, as a pioneer in the western forests, he
would have been a Warwick, a Standish, a Boon. His childhood was
passed in a small country village, were the means of education were
scanty, and at a period when the country was rent with civil dissentions.
A large majority ofthose who are called educated men have been surrounded
by all the implements and processes of instruction; but Webster won his
education by baffling against difficulties. "A dwarf behind a steam engine
can remove mountains; but no dwarf Can hew them down with a pickaxe;
and he must be a Titan that hurls them abroad with his arms." Every
step in that long journey,, by which the son of the New Hampshire farmer
has obtained the highest rank in social and political life, has been one of
strenuous effort. The space is crowded with incident, and tells of obsta
cles sturdily met and fairly overthrown. His life and his writings seem
to bear testimony that he can perform whatever he strenuously attempts.
His words never seem disproportioned to his strength. Indeed, he rather
gives the impression, that he has powers and impulses in reserve, to be
employed when the occasion for their exercise may arise. In many of his
speeches, not especially pervaded bypassion, we perceive strength indeed,
but "strength half-leaning on his own right arm." He has never yet
been placed in circumstances where the full might of his nature, in all its
depth of understanding, fiery vehemence of sensibility, and adamantine
strength of will, have been brought to bear on any one object, and strained
to their utmost. We have referred to Webster's productions as being
eminently national. Every one familiar with them will bear us out
in the statement. In fact, the most hurried glance at his life would
prove, that, surrounded as he has been from his youth with Ameri
can influences, it could hardly be otherwise. His' earliest recollec
tions must extend nearly to the feelings and incidents of the revo
lution. His whole life since that period has been passed in the country
of his birth, and his fame and honors are all closely connected with Amer
ican feelings and institutions. His works all refer to the history, the
policy, the laws, the government, the social life, and the destiny of his
own land. They bear little resemblance in their tone and spirit to pro
ductions of the same class on the other side of the Atlantic. They have
come from the heart and the understanding of one into whose very nature
5

58
the life of his country has passed. Without taking into view the influ-
•ences to which his youth and early manhood were subjected, so well cal
culated to inspire a love for the very soil of his nativity, and to mould his
mind into accordance with what is be'st and noblest in the spirit of our
institutions, his1 position has been such as to lead him to survey ob
jects from an American point of view. His patriotism has become part
of his being. Deny him that, and you deny the authorship of his works.
It has prompted many of the most majestic flights of his eloquence. It
has given intensity to his purposes, and lent the richest glow to his
genius. It has made his eloquence a language of the heart, felt and un
derstood over every portion of the land it consecrates. On Plymouth
Rock, on Bunker's Hill, at Mount Vernon, by the tombs of Hamilton and
Adams, and Jefferson and Jay, we are reminded of Daniel Webster.
He has done what no national poet has yet succeeded in doing — associated
his own great genius with all in our country '& history and scenery, which
makes us rejoice that we are Americans. He has made the dead past a
living present. Over all those events in our history which are historical,
he has cast the hues of strong feeling and vivid imagination. He cannot
stand on one spot of ground, hallowed by liberty or religion, without being
filled by the genius of the place; he cannot mention a name, consecrated
by self-devotion and patriotism, without doing it eloquent homage. See
ing clearly, and feeling deeply, he makes us see and feel with him.*

A Quaker' gentleman of Nantucket once called upon Mr. Webster, at
his office in Boston, for the purpose of securing his services in a suit
which was about to be tried on the Island, and wound up his appeal -by
demanding his terms.
" I will attend to your case for one thousand dollars," replied Mr.
Webster.
The client demurred, but finding that the lawyer would not visit Nan
tucket for a less amount than the one specified, he promised to pay the
proposed fee, provided Mr. Webster would agree "to attend to any
other matters that he might present during the sitting of the court" to
which Mr. Webster consented.
The appointed time arrived, and Mr. Webster was at his post. The
leading case of his client was brought forward, argued, and decided in his
favor. Another case was taken up, and the Quaker assigned it to the care
of Mr. Webster, when it was satisfactorily disposed of; another still
and with the same result; and still another, and another, until Mr. Web
ster became impatient and demanded an explanation; whereupon the
client remarked:

Whipple's Essays.

59
" I hired thee to attend to all the business of the court,, and thou hast
done it handsomely; so here is thy money, one thousand dollars."

The best of Mr. Webster's speeches have been acknowledged to be
the soundest exposition of Constitutional law ever given to the country.
As Mr. Marsh has written, they constitute a chart of Government. And,
as in the ancient days of Rome, the magistrates, whenever danger pressed
the eternal city, consulted the Sybilline books, tp know what measure of
safety to pursue, so, under our government, with us, and with posterity,
these inspired productions of his great mind, in times of peril to the Con
stitution and the Union, will ever be resorted to as the only hope or
means of preservation. By their saving guidance, the Constitution
and the Union, "one and inseparable," may survive every storm, and
ride victorious through every gale.
Attachment to the Union of the States has amounted with Mr. Web
ster to a passion. It has his earliest love and will endure to his latest
breath. In whatever situation he has been placed, it has filled his heart
and controlled his conduct. He has made everything, in public life, sub
sidiary to this. It has grown with his growth, and strengthened with his
strength, till it has become a part of his moral being.
The past is security for the future; no matter how much^is motives
may be arraigned, his conduct vilified, or his personal feelings outraged,
he will maintain, steadfast and unshaken, his devotion to the Constitution
and the Union. He will neither forego nor qualify that ardent devotion,
at the instigation of angry clamor, or be diverted a hair's-breadth from his
consistent course, by the frowns or smiles of power, whether centered in
one man or the million. He knows no change. He takes no step back
wards; whatever denunciation or whatever blandishments surround him,
he will be true, whoever else is faithless. As well might we expect the
North Star — in all time, that unsubsidized guide to the mariner — to
withhold his light and refuse to shine, because the needle, with fickle
polarity, inclines tp some other luminary.
"I am," he says now, as he said before, "where I have ever been, and
ever mean to be. Standing on the platform of the general Constitution —
a platform, broad enough, and firm enough, to< uphold every interest of
the whole country — I shall still be found. ' Entrusted with some part in
the administration of that Constitution, I intend tc- act in its spirit, and in
the spirit of those who framed it. I would act as if our fathers who formed
it for us, and who bequeathed it to us,f were looking on me — as if, I could
see their venerable forms bending down to behold us from the abodes
above. I would act, too, as if the eye of posterity Was gazing on me.
"Standing thus, as in the full gaze of our ancestors and our posterity;

60
having received this inheritance from the former, to be transmitted to the
latter; and feeling that, if I am formed for any good, in my day and gen
eration, it is for the good of the whole country, no local policy or local
feeling, no temporary impulse, shall induce me to yield my foothold on the
Constitution and the Union.
" I came into pnblic life in the service of the United States. On that
broad altar my earliest, and all my public vows, have been made. I
propose to serve no other master. So far as depends on any agency of
mine, they shall continue United States; united in interest and affection;
united in everything in regard to which the Constitution has decreed their
union; united in war, for the common defence, the common renown, and
the common glory; and united, compacted, knit' firmly together in peace,
for the common prosperity and happiness of ourselves and our children."

WEBSTEE.

BY MISS ANNE C. LYNCH.

" When I and all those that hear me shall have gone to our last home, and when the mould may ha ve
gathered on our memories, as it will on our tombs." — Webster's Speech in the Senate, July, 1850.

The mould upon thy memory ! No,
Not while one note is rung",
Of thoae divine, immortal song^
Milton and Shakspeare sung- ;-—
Not till the night of years enshrouds
The Anglo-Saxon tongue. "
No ! let the flood of Time roll on,
And men and empires die '; —
Genius enthroned on lofty heights
Can its dread course defy,
And here on earth, can claim the gift
Of immortality:
Can save from that Lethean tide
That sweeps so dark along-,
A people's name ; — a people's fame
To future time prolong,
As Troy still lives and only lives
In Homer's deathless song.
What though to buried Nineveh
The traveller may come,
And roll away the stone that hides
That long forgotten tomb ; — -
"He questions, its mute past in vain;
Its oracles-are dumb.
What though he stand where Balbec stood
Gigantic in its pride ;
No voice comes o'er that silent waste,
Lone, desolate and wide; —
They had no bard, no orator1,
No statesman,— and they died.

They lived their little span of -life,
They lived and died in vain ; —
They sank ingloriously beneath
Oblivion's silent reign,
As sank beneath the Dead Sea wave
The Cities of the Plain.
But for those famed, immortal lands,
Greece and imperial Rome,
Where Genius left its shining mark,
. And found its chosen home,
All eloquent with mind they speak,
Wood, wave, and crumbling dome.
The honeyed words of Plato still
Float on the echoing air,
The thunders of Demosthenes
iEgean waters bear,
And the pilgrim to the Forum hears
The voice of Tully there.
And thus thy memory shall live,
And thus thy fame resound,
While far-off future ages roll
Their solemn cycle round,
And^nake this wide, this fair New World,
An ancient, classic ground.
Then with our Country's glorious name
Thine own shall be entwined ;
Within the Senate's pillared hall
Thine image shall be shrined ; .
And on the nation's Law shall gleam
Light from thy giant mind.

Qur proudest monuments no more
May rise to meet the sky,
The stately Capitol o'erthrown,
Low in the dust may lie ; '
But mind, sublime above the wreck,
Immortal— cannot die.

,;o-?o- '^Zi^PiU^"