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Class 
 Book 
 
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 SMITHSONIAN DEPOSIT 
 
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a^t^i^^^ ^^.^i./^^^ 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE, SPEECHES, AAD MEMORIALS 
 
 OF 
 
 DANIEL WEBSTER; 
 
 coriTAiNnro 
 
 HIS MOST CELEBEATED ORATIONS, 
 
 A SELECTION FEOM THE EULOGIES DELIVEEED ON THE 
 OCCASION OF HIS DEATH; 
 
 AND HIS LIFE AND TIMES, 
 
 BY 
 
 SAMUEL M. SMUCKEE, A.M., 
 
 AUTHOR OF "COURT AND REIGN OF CATHARINE H.," "HISTORY OF NICHOLAS I," "ARCTIC 
 
 EXPLORATIONS AND DISCOVERIES,' "LIFE OP ALEXANDER HAMILTON," 
 
 " MEMORAP'j; SCENES IN FRENCH HISXORY," ETC. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 DUANE RULISON, QUAKER CITY PUBLISHING HOUSE. 
 
 No. 33 SOUTH THIRD STREET 
 
 1859. 
 
£7340 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 
 
 DUANE RULISON, 
 
 in tlie Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Eastern 
 District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 STEREOTYPED liT L. JOHNSON & CO. 
 PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 Feinted by HENRY B. ASHMEAD, 
 
 CEURGG ."ST. ADOVK ELKVE.NTH. 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 The following work has been prepared in order to 
 suppl}^ a want, in reference to the life and political career 
 of Daniel Webster, which was believed still to exist among 
 the reading public. Biographies of this distinguished man, 
 possessing various degrees of merit, abound on every hand ; 
 but there is no work in existence which contains, in so con- 
 venient and compact a form as the present, a narrative of 
 the chief events of his life, together with a selection from 
 his most celebrated speeches, and the most worthy eulo- 
 gies which were elicited from his admiring countrymen 
 in regard to him at the period of his death. 
 
 The main purpose, therefore, of the present volume, is not 
 so much the exhibition of originality as the attainment of 
 usefulness. That portion of it which is devoted to Mr. 
 Webster's biography presents a history of all the im- 
 portant incidents of his career. The selection from his 
 speeches has been carefully made ; and the writer's effort 
 has been to choose those which derived superior value botli 
 from the magnitude of the occasions on which they were 
 delivered, and from the greater profundity and power 
 which characterize them. Of the various eulogies which 
 
 3 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 were pronounced on Mr. Webster after his decease, the 
 most elaborate and excellent which the writer has been 
 able to procure, and to use without encroaching on the 
 rights of others, have here been reprinted. The writer, 
 therefore, indulges the hope, that, taken as a whole, the 
 work may prove a not unworthy tribute to the fame of 
 one of the most eminent and illustrious men of modern 
 
 times. 
 
 S. M. S. 
 Philadelphia, January 25, 1859. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 fife anb Wnms at gniiiel Mtbster. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Birth of Daniel Webster — Sketcli of his Family — His Boj'hood— His First 
 Teachers — Enters a Law-Office — Becomes a Student of Philliiis Academy 
 — Peculiarities of Dr. Abbot — Webster commences to teach School — His 
 Usefulness and Success 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Webster's Intercourse with Dr. Samuel Wood — He prepares himself for 
 College — He enters Dartmouth College — H_is_Habits and Pursuits — He 
 delivers a Fourth-of-July Oration — Extract from it — He completes his 
 Collegiate Course — His Speech at graduating 16 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Webster continues the Study of the Law — He becomes Principal of Frye- 
 burg Academy — Mr. Fessenden — His Further Studies with Mr. Thomson 
 — His Piemoval to Boston — Christopher Gore — The Offered Clerkship — 
 Webster's Admission to the Bar — Commences Practice at Boscawen — His 
 Removal to Portsmouth — His Marriage — His First Term in Congress.... 24 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Calamity at Portsmouth — Webster's Second Term in Congress — The Tariff 
 — Webster's Opposition to it — His Removal to Boston — His Professional 
 Distinction — -Case of Kenniston rs. Goodridge— Mr. Webster declines Po- 
 litical Honors — Continues his Professional Labors — Serves in the Con- 
 vention to Revise the Constitution of Massachusetts — Celebrated Dart- 
 mouth College Case — Signal Display of Mr. Webster's Abilities 36 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Mr. Webster again elected to Congress — Debates in Congress respecting 
 Greece — Mr. Webster's Speech on the Occasion — Extract from it — His 
 
 1« 6 
 
6 CONTE^"TS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Opposition to the Tariff — Mr. Webster's Speech on the Lajdng of Bunker 
 Hill Mouumeut — Chairman of the Judiciary Committee — Reform in the 
 U. S. Supreme Court — Mr. Webster's Speech on the Death of .John Adams 
 — He is elected Senator from Massachusetts in the Twentieth Congress... 52 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Webster's Reply to Mr. Haync — Preliminary Circumstances — Speeches of 
 Mr. Benton — Mr. Hayne's First Speech— His Character and Talents — Mr. 
 A\^ebster's First Speech in Reply— The Second Speech of Mr. Hayne — Its 
 Character — Extract from it — Mr. Webster's Reply — Intense Interest felt 
 on the Occasion — Mr. Webster's Apjuarance and Manner — The Audience 
 — Qualities of his TTfeat Bpeech — Its Prodigious "Effect and Power 68 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Death of Mrs. Webster — Mr. Webster's Second Marriage — The Celebrated 
 Case of John Francis Knapp — Circumstances of the Case — Revelations 
 of Hatch — Of Palmer — Crowninsbicld arrested — The Two Knnpps — 
 Confession of Joseph Knapi) — Trial of Francis and Joseph Knapp — The 
 Result — Mr. Choate's Narrative — Mr. Webster's Ability as a Criminal 
 Lawyer — The Variety of his Talents 88 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Accession of General Jackson to the Presidency — Mr. Van Buren rejected 
 as Minister to England — Mr. Webster supports the Renewal of the 
 Charter of the U. S. Bank — Removal of the Deposits — Disastrous Con- 
 sequences — Mr. Webster's Speeches on the Subject — Nullification in 
 South Carolina — Mr. Webster's Celebrated Speech thereon — The Action 
 of the President and of Congress — Accession of Van Burcn to the Pre- 
 sidency — The Sub-Treasury Scheme — Mr. Webster's Opposition to it — 
 Abolition of Slavery in the District of Columbia 98 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Mr. Webster's Visit to England — Election of General Harrison to the Pre- 
 sidency — His Death — Accession of Mr. Tyler — The " Treaty of Wash- 
 ington" — Its Various Provisions — Ability displayed by Mr. Webster as 
 a Diplomatist — Approval of the Treaty by Congress and the Executive 
 — '' ImprcKument" — Great Oration of Mr. Webster in Faneuil Hall — Ex- 
 tract from the Speech — Hostility of C. J. Ingersoll to Mr. Webster — Mr. 
 Webster's Retort upon him 113 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Temporary Retirement of Mr. AVebster from Political Life — His Legal Argu- 
 ments — The Girard Will Case — Suit against the City of Boston — Mr. 
 Webster returns to the Senate — Annexation of Texas — Dispute respect- 
 
CONTENTS. 7 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ing Oregon Territory — The Mexican War — Admission of California — 
 The Compromise Measures of Mr. Clay — Mr. Webster's Able Speech on 
 the Subject 127 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Death of General Taylor — Mr. Webster's Eulogy upon Him — Mr. Web- 
 ster's Last Speech in the Senate — Mr. Fillmore appoints him Secretary 
 of State — Mr. Webster's Celebrated Letter to Chevalier Hiilsemann — 
 Disputed Authorship — Expedition of Lopez against Cuba — Its Results 
 — Other Questions of Importance disposed of by Mr. Webster — His 
 Treatment of Kossuth 136 
 
 CHxVPTER XII. 
 
 Approach of Mr. Webster's Last Illness — His Religious Opinions — A Sum- 
 mary of it — Mr. Webster's Will — New and Alarming Symptoms — Mr. 
 Webster's Scrutiny of his Own Dissolution — His Death — His Intellectual 
 Character — Parallel between Him and Alexander Hamilton — Mr. AVeb- 
 ster's Slvill in Agriculture — His Library — His Favorite Amusements — 
 His Fondne?s for the Sea-Shore — The Admirable Proportion of his 
 Mental Faculties — His Peculiarities as an Orator — His Great Logical 
 Power— His Boldness and Fortitude — The Permanence and Splendor of 
 his Fame 144 
 
 BtM S|)ecd]cs at ganid Mcbstcr. 
 
 I. — Mr. Webster's Reply to Mr. Hayne in the U. S. Senate, January 
 
 26, 18.30 159 
 
 II. — Speech in the Senate on the Slavery Compromise, March 7, 1850. 253 
 
 III. — Speech on the Greek Revolution, delivered in the House of Re- 
 presentatives, January 19, 1823 305 
 
 rV. — Speech on the Trial of John F. Knapip for murder, at Salem, Mas- 
 sachusetts 347 
 
 V. — Argument in the Goodridge Case, delivered in April, 1817, at 
 
 Ipswich Massachusets 41S 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 (Dbituiirn gli)iirfsscs gclibcrcb on Ik (Dccasimt of glr. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. — Eulogy by Mr. Davis in the United States Senate 441 
 
 II. — Eulogy by Mr. Butler 445 
 
 III.— Eulogy by Mr. Cass 447 
 
 IV.— Eulogy by Mr. Seward 453 
 
 v.— Eulogy by Mr. Stockton 459 
 
 VI. — Eulogy by Mr. Davis, in the House of Representatives 462 
 
 VII. — Eulogy by Mr. Appleton 404 
 
 VIII.— Eulogy by Mr. Preston 469 
 
 IX. — Eulogy by Mr. Seymour 473 
 
 X.— Eulogy by Mr. Chandler 477 
 
 XI. — Eulogy by Mr. Bayly 481 
 
 XII. — Eulogy by Mr. Stanley 485 
 
 XIIL— Eulogy by Mr. Taylor 490 
 
 XIV. — Address of Edward Everett, delivered in Boston 493 
 
 XV. — Rufus Choate's Address to the Boston Bar 501 
 
 XVI. — Eulogy delivered by George S. Hillard in Boston 514 
 
 XVII. — Eulogy delivered by Hiram Ketchum, in New York 541 
 
 XVIIL— The Obsequies of Daniel Webster 545 
 
A /!>', 
 
 at 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 OF 
 
 DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Birth of Daniel Webster — Sketch of his Family — His Boyhood — His 
 First Teachers — Euters a Law-Office — Becomes a Studeut of Phillips 
 Academy — Peculiarities of Dr. Abbot — Webster commences to teach 
 School — His Usefulness and Success. 
 
 All civilized nations have been proud of the fame of their 
 most eminent orators and statesmen. Greece, the gifted land 
 of ancient art and genius, boasts of her Demosthenes and 
 ^schines ; Rome, the martial mistress of the world, of 
 her Cicero and Hortensius ; England, of her Chatham and 
 Burke ; France, of her Mirabeau and Vergniaud. Our 
 own country justly entertains the same sentiment of par- 
 tiality and admiration for her two most illustrious citizens, 
 her Clay and Webster. These are her greatest intel- 
 lectual giants ; and around their achievements as orators, 
 as patriots, and as statesmen a deathless interest will con- 
 tinue to cluster, as long as this Republic retains a place 
 either in reality, or even in history, and as long as liberty 
 is enjoyed or revered among men. 
 
 Daniel Webster, the intellectual Colossus of the New 
 
 9 
 
10 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 World, was born at Salisbury, New Hampshire, on tlie 
 18th of January, 1782. He was the youngest son of 
 Ebenezer and Abigail Webster. He first saw the light in 
 the remotest recesses of what was at that time the extreme 
 verge of civilization, on the northeastern boundary of the 
 United States. The humble tenement in which he was 
 born was the last house which then existed in the direction 
 of the Canadian frontier. 
 
 Daniel was one of a family of ten children ; and his 
 ancestors were worthy to have preceded so illustrious a 
 man. They had been residents of Rockingham county, 
 New Hampshire, from the commencement of the eighteenth 
 century, and had always been esteemed for their superior 
 intelligence and moral worth. His father, Ebenezer Web- 
 ster, Avas a man of rare virtues and of great mental 
 powers. His large, muscular frame encased a soul gifted 
 with qualities which allied him in character to the sternest 
 sa<Tes of Greece or Rome. He never attended school a 
 single day ; yet by his self-taught exertions he attained a 
 wide and accurate acquaintance with knowledge of almost 
 every description. In those primeval times when the 
 luxuries and even the conveniences of civilization were 
 rarely attainable, except by those most favored by fortune, 
 Ebenezer Webster pursued his lonely and undirected 
 studies at night by the lurid light of blazing pine-knots ; 
 and thus he gradually prepared himself to assume no 
 humble place among his contemporaries. During the trials 
 of the Revolutionary era he was made the captain of a 
 company of his co-patriots; he served with honor at 
 Bennington and White Plains ; and, after peace was pro- 
 claimed, he received, among other marks of esteem and 
 confidence from his fellow-citizens, the office of Associate 
 Judge in the Court of Common Pleas. 
 
 Of the other members of the family, the most remark- 
 
\ / OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 11 
 
 a.l)]e was Ezekiel Webster, an elder brother of Daniel. He 
 too became a lawyer, was a man of superior ability, pos- 
 sessing the same massive mould of intellectual as well as 
 physical character which marked his more illustrious 
 brother ; but he died suddenly and prematurely, in the 
 midst of an argument which he was delivering before the 
 court at Concord, in his native State, at the age of forty- 
 nine. 
 
 The boyhood of Daniel Webster was spent in the 
 obscure and rural retreat where he was born. At this 
 period he was of slender frame and delicate health. It is 
 narrated that the most remarkable feature of the strangely 
 intelligent and thoughtful child then were two immense 
 eyes, which seemed to be instinct with thought, feeling, 
 and expression ; and, as we turn over the annals of the 
 earliest years of this wondrous man, we meet with addi- 
 tional proofs that a mother's mind and power, as in the vast 
 majority of cases, moulded and gave character to the future 
 mental and moral qualities of the man. Daniel's mother 
 was his first and best teacher. From her he received the 
 first rudiments of learning. His first text-book was also 
 the best ; for it was the Bible. So early had he been 
 taught his letters, that he is reported to have declared that 
 he could not remember the time when he could not spell. 
 As he grew in years, he increased in intelligence, and was 
 remarked for a degree of wit which surpassed his fellows. 
 When a boy, having set the bed-clothes on fire while reading 
 late at night, he replied, when reproved for his careless- 
 ness, that he was in search of light, but was sorry to say 
 that he received more of it than he desired. 
 
 The first school which Daniel attended was situated two 
 miles and a half from the paternal residence, and it was 
 necessary for him, even during the severest rigors of winter, 
 to walk thither and back. He was ardent in the pursuit of 
 
12 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 knowledge, and, indeed, seemed intuitively to appreciate i's 
 vast importance. At the age of fourteen he could repeat 
 from memorj the whole of Pope's Essay on Man, together 
 with a large proportion of the hymns and psalms of Dr. 
 Watts. His first teachers were Thomas Chase and James 
 Tappan, to whom belonged the honor of having aided in 
 the opening of the mind and the first development of the 
 powers of this as yet quiescent and infant giant. These 
 faithful and patient pedagogues have long since passed 
 away to the oblivious repose of the tomb ; but their services 
 in this connection entitle them to honorable mention in 
 the history of their illustrious pupil through all coming 
 time. 
 
 It is also worthy of remark that during his boyish days 
 Daniel was called on to contribute his share of manual 
 work to the usual labors of his father's farm ; and we may 
 readily imagine the boy, arrayed in his tow frock and 
 trowsers, with his rake or sickle in his hand, perspiring at 
 every pore, toiling hard during the long days of harvest- 
 time to gather the gold-bearing crop. Of this feature of 
 his youthful days Daniel Webster Avas ever afterward 
 proud; and in his great speech on the "Agriculture of 
 England," delivered in Boston in 1840, he referred with 
 undisguised pleasure to the fact that in his early life he 
 had been made familiar with the labors and the details of 
 husbandry. 
 
 At the age of fourteen Daniel was permitted by his 
 father to become ofiice-boy to Mr. Thomas W. Thompson, 
 a young lawyer who at that period removed to Elm 
 Farm and commenced practice. The latter was frequently 
 compelled to be absent from home, and he needed some 
 one to answer for him to clients and visitors when he him- 
 self was not present. He rewarded the lad by permitting 
 him to use some of his books, and by giving him useful 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 13 
 
 directions as to his studies. He first placed in Daniel's 
 hands a Latin grammar. Soon, without any difficulty, the 
 lad mastered a large portion of its dry details. Next 
 came other productions, of a more intricate and ponderous 
 nature ; among which were some of the more eliiborate 
 and profound works on English real-estate law. It is said 
 that the youthful student pored over these books during 
 six hours each morning, while the afternoon was given to 
 the more congenial reading of Shakspeare and other lead- 
 ing works in the more attractive department of belles- 
 lettres literature. 
 
 We may readily suppose that this very early tincture of 
 legal knowledge may have given young Webster's mind a 
 bias for the abstruse science of the law, which afterward 
 attracted him toward that profession as his chief employ- 
 ment in the future. But it will doubtless clearly appear 
 to every reflecting mind that such a course of instruction 
 as that which was thus suggested to young Webster was 
 pernicious, because it was badly arranged. He had not 
 yet received the most necessary and essential amount of 
 elementary instruction ; and this was absolutely requisite 
 to fit him for the attainment of higher and more ultimate 
 professional knowledge. Accordingly, it was resolved by 
 his parents that he should be sent to an academy, not 
 indeed to prepare him for the further study of the law, but to 
 fit him to act as a school-teacher as the future business of 
 his life. Accordingly, on the 24th of May, 179(3, young 
 Webster set out on horseback for Phillips Academy at 
 Exeter, in the county of Rockingham, in his native State, 
 to pursue a course of academical study. This was the 
 most celebrated institution of the kind then in New Ens;- 
 land. He rode thither on a side-sflddle placed upon a 
 horse intended for the use of a lady in Exeter, and his 
 appearance was not the most attractive. His outward 
 
 2 
 
14 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 bodily traits were also by no means pleasing. He seemed 
 to be a person destined soon to become the victim of con- 
 sumption ; nor would any intelligent observer have pre- 
 dicted for him a long life, any more than he would have 
 guaranteed him an illustrious career. He was accom- 
 panied to Exeter by his father. Appearing in the presence 
 of Dr. Benjamin Abbot, the president of the academy, 
 that pompous but able official questioned the timid lad 
 severely as to his previous studies ; and after these in- 
 quiries were satisfactorily answered, he ordered him to 
 read a passage from the Bible. It was the twenty-second 
 chapter of Luke. Young Daniel had been taught to read 
 or recite with great impressiveness by his intelligent 
 mother ; and he acquitted himself so admirably on this 
 occasion that he at once gained the friendly regard of the 
 pedagogical potentate, and was received as a pupil. "Young 
 man," said the latter, with a solemn, dictatorial emphasis 
 which we may imagine but not describe, " you are qualified 
 to enter this institution !" 
 
 Webster remained at Phillips Academy during nine 
 months. He was in truth a hard student. He rapidly 
 acquired a vast amount of information. His preceptor, 
 Dr. Abbot, declared in after-years that he never knew a 
 boy whose power of amassing and retaining knowledge 
 equalled that of young Webster. He was especially facile 
 and apt in the comprehension and acquisition of principles ; 
 and in nine months he accomplished as much as most 
 youths would have done in two years. His health was 
 still feeble. He seemed to have a head far too large 
 and ponderous for his feeble body. But he impressed 
 every one connected with the institution with his superior 
 intellectual powers. From Exeter he returned home, and 
 commenced to teach school. His father's means being 
 limited, he wished to earn something for himself, and to 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 15 
 
 deliberate upon his future plans of life. He was younger 
 than many of his pupils ; yet he was amply qualified to 
 impart to them the most valuable instruction. He v.;i3 
 popular as a teacher both among his scholars and with 
 their parents and friends ; and he might perhaps have con- 
 tinued to labor in this humble sphere during some years, 
 had not a propitious circumstance seemed accidentally to 
 rescue him from the obscurity to which it would have con- 
 signed him. 
 
16 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Webster's Intercourse with Dr. Samuel Wood — He prepares himself for 
 College — He enters Dartmouth College — His Habits and Pursuits — 
 He delivers a Fourth-of-July Oration — Extract from it — He completes 
 his Collegiate Course — His Speech at graduating. 
 
 At this period the Rev. Samuel Wood, LL.D., a clergy- 
 man of talents and learning, and possessing an especially 
 generous nature, removed to Boscawen, a short distance 
 from Salisbury, the residence of young Webster. He was 
 a graduitte of Dartmouth College ; and one of his most 
 amiable qualities was the deep interest which he took in 
 the advancement of youths who exhibited superior mental 
 powers, or who seemed anxious to attain knowledge and 
 distinction. An elective affinity soon attracted him to 
 young Webster ; and in a short time he felt a deep con- 
 cern in his welfare. Daniel became a pupil of Dr. Wood, 
 and remained several montlis under his tuition. He would 
 have continued doubtless much longer, had not a benevolent 
 plan been conceived by his tutor in reference to him. He 
 discovered what an intellectual gem of the first magnitude 
 and of the purest water lay embedded in the person of his 
 gifted scholar; and he determined that it should not always 
 remain hidden in the "dark unfathomed caves" of the 
 ocean of obscurity where it then lay. He conversed with 
 Daniel's father on the subject, and urged upon him the 
 importance of sending his talented son to Dartmouth 
 College. Tlie proposition at first startled him. Tliat was 
 a bold and ambitious venture for his favorite son, which 
 he had never anticipated, and scarce even then dared to 
 contemplate. Though he tlien possessed a large tract of 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 17 
 
 land, which in the progi'ess of time would become valuable, 
 yet at that moment it was but little productive. His means 
 therefore were limited, and his family was large. On the 
 other hand, parental pride and aflFection pleaded loudly in 
 favor of the measure. At length, after much deliberation and 
 a desperate struggle, it was determined that Daniel should 
 be sent to Dartmouth. When first informed of this im- 
 portant and decisive step by his father while riding with 
 him in a rude sleigh in a remote and snow-covered part of 
 the country, the emotions of the lad were too great for 
 utterance. At one moment he wept, and at another ex- 
 ulted, and expressed his joy and gratitude to his father in 
 feeling terms ; for he well knew that no small sacrifices 
 would be necessary on the part of his parent to enable him 
 to carry out this resolution. 
 
 Daniel immediately commenced to prepare himself for 
 his removal to the college. He arrived at Hanover at the 
 moment when the Faculty of the institution were engaged 
 in examining candidates for admission to the Freshman 
 class. No time was to be lost ; and young Webster, 
 covered with mud, drenched with rain, and presenting in 
 every respect a most unfavorable aspect, was called upon 
 to undergo the terrible ordeal. His appearance was 
 singular indeed. The rain had completely saturated his 
 suit of blue clothes, which had been Avoven, made, and 
 dyed at home, and the fugitive colors had in some measure 
 been transferred to his person. He was then not only de- 
 serving of the epithet of "Black Dan," but also of "Blue 
 Dan." Notwithstanding his repulsive appearance, he 
 passed a favorable examination, and was admitted to the 
 Freshman class. Dr. John Wheelock was then president, 
 whose kindly regard toward the young applicant had been 
 procured by the friendly influence and interposition of 
 Dr. Wood. 
 
 2* 
 
18 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 During Webster's residence at Dartmouth College he 
 was studious, orderly and industrious. It has long been 
 the fashion of common and vulgar report to represent his 
 conduct at this time differently ; and thousands of idle and 
 worthless juveniles, who have wasted and squandered the 
 inestimable advantages of early education which were 
 offered them, and frequently almost forced upon them, 
 have excused their fatal follies and neglect of their oppor- 
 tunities by the supposed example of young Webster. 
 ISTothing coubl be more erroneous and preposterous than 
 the supposition that he was idle and negligent of his 
 studies while at college. His teachers at the institution 
 boldly predicted his future eminence ; nor would they have 
 done this had his conduct not then been Avorthy of ad- 
 miration and applause. He did not excel in Greek and 
 mathematics : for these branches he exhibited but little 
 fondness. But every other department of academical 
 learning, especially logic, psychology, moral philosophy, 
 and all those sciences which particularly require grasp and 
 profundity of thought, he mastered with facility. When in 
 his seventeenth year, in 1800, he was invited by the citizens 
 of Hanover to deliver a Fourth-of-July oration. He ac- 
 cepted the invitation, which Avas itself a mark of honor, 
 and delivered the first of his speeches, of which a record 
 has been transmitted to posterity. It was entitled " An 
 Oration pronounced at Hanover, New Hampshire, on the 
 4th of July, 1800, being the Twenty-Fourth Anniversary 
 of American Independence, by Daniel Webster, member 
 of the Junior Class, Dartmouth University." It Avas pub- 
 lished by the request of the subscribers, and printed at 
 Hanover by Moses David, shortly after its delivery. That 
 tiie reader may form an idea of the style of the youthful 
 orator, we will quote an extract from this singular yet 
 meritorious production : 
 
or DANIEL WEBSTER. 19 
 
 " No sooner was peace restored with England (the first 
 grand article of which was the acknowledo-ment of our 
 Independence) than the old system of Confederation, 
 dictated at first by necessity, and adopted for the pur- 
 poses of the moment, was found inadequate to the govern- 
 ment of an extensive empire. Under a full conviction 
 of this, we then saw the people of these States engaged in 
 a transaction v.diich is undoubtedly the greatest approxima- 
 tion toward human perfection the political world ever yet 
 witnessed, and which, perhaps, will forever stand in the 
 history of mankind without a parallel. A great Republic, 
 composed of different States, whose interest in all respects 
 could not be 'perfectly compatible, then came deliberately 
 forward, discarded one system of government and adopted 
 another, without the loss of one man's blood. 
 
 "There is not a single Government now existino- in 
 Europe which is not based in usurpation, and established, 
 if established at all, by the sacrifice of thousands. But 
 in the adoption of our present system of jurisprudence 
 we see the powers necessary for government voluntarily 
 flowing from the people, their only proper origin, and 
 directed to the public good, their only proper object. 
 
 "With peculiar propriety we may now felicitate our- 
 selves on tluit happy form of mixed government under 
 which we live. The advantages resulting to the citizens 
 of the Union' are utterly incalculable, and the day when 
 it was received by a majority of the States shall stand on 
 the catalogue of American anniversaries second to none 
 but the birthday of Independence. 
 
 " In consequence of the adoption of our present system 
 of government, and the virtuous manper in which it was 
 administered by a Washington and an Adams, we are this 
 day in the enjoyment of peace, while war devastates 
 Europe ! We can now sit down beneath the shadow of 
 
20 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 the olive, while her cities blaze, her streams run purple 
 with blood, and her fields glitter with a forest of bayonets ! 
 The citizens of America can this day thi'ong the temples 
 of freedom and renew their oaths of fealty to independ- 
 ence, while Holland, our once sister Republic, is erased 
 from the catalogue of nations ; while Venice is destroyed, 
 Italy ravaged, and Switzerland — the once happy, the 
 once united, the once flourishing Switzerland — lies bleed- 
 ing at every pore ! 
 
 " No ambitious foe dares now invade our country. No 
 standing army now endangers our liberty. Our com- 
 merce, though subject in some degree to the depredations 
 of belligerent powers, is extended from pole to pole ; our 
 navy, though just emerging from non-existence, shall soon 
 vouch for the safety of our merchantmen, and bear the 
 thunder of freedom around the ball. Fair Science, too, 
 holds her gentle empire amongst us, and almost innu- 
 merable altars are raised to her divinity, from Brunswick 
 to Florida. Yale, Providence, and Harvard now grace 
 our land ; and Dartmouth, towering majestic above the 
 groves which encircle her, now inscribes her glory on the 
 registers of fame ! Oxford and Cambrid";e, those Oriental 
 stars of literature, shall now be outshone by the bright 
 sun of American science, which displays his broad circum- 
 ference in uneclipsed radiance. 
 
 " Pleasing, indeed, were it here to dilate on the future 
 grandeur of America ; but we forbear, and pause for a 
 moment to drop the tear of affection over the graves of 
 our departed warriors. Their names should be mentioned 
 on every anniversary of Independence, that the youth of 
 each successive generation may learn not to value life 
 when held in competition with their country's safety. 
 
 " Wooster, IMontgomery, and Mercer fell bravely in 
 battle, and their ashes are now entombed on the fields 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 21 
 
 that witnessed their valor. Let their exertions in our 
 country's cause be remembered while liberty has an ad- 
 vocate and gratitude has a place in the human heart. 
 
 " Greene, the immortal hero of the Carolinas, has since 
 gone down "to the grave, loaded with honors, and high in 
 the estimation of his countrymen. The courageous Putnam 
 has long slept with his fathers ; and Sullivan and Cilley, 
 New Hampshire's veteran sons, are no more remembered 
 with the living. 
 
 " With hearts penetrated by unutterable grief, we are 
 at leno;th constrained to ask, Where is our Washington? 
 where the hero who led us to victory ? where the man 
 who gave us freedom ? where is he who headed our feeble 
 army when destruction threatened us, who came upon 
 our enemies like the storms of winter and scattered them 
 like leaves before the Borean blast? Where, my 
 country, is thy political savior ? where, humanity, thy 
 favorite son ? 
 
 " The solemnity of this assembly, the lamentations of 
 the American people, will answer, ' Alas ! he is now no 
 more ! the mighty is fallen !' 
 
 " Yes, Americans, Washington is gone ! he is now con- 
 signed to dust and sleeps in ' dull, cold marble !' 
 
 " The man who never felt a wound but when it pierced 
 his country — who never groaned but when fair freedom 
 bled — is now forever silent ! 
 
 " Wrapped in the shroud of death, the dark dominions 
 of the grave long since receive^l him, and he rests in un- 
 disturbed repose ! Vain were the attempt to express our 
 loss, — vain the attempt to describe the feelings of our 
 souls ! Though months have rolled away since his spirit 
 left this terrestrial orb' and sought the shining worlds on 
 high, yet the sad event is still remembered with increased 
 sorrow. The hoary-headed patriot of '76 still tells the 
 
22 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 mournful story to the listening infant, till the loss of his 
 country touches his heart and patriotism fires his breast. 
 The aged matron still laments the loss of the man beneath 
 whose banners her husband has fought or her son has 
 fallen. At the name of Washington, the sympathetic 
 tear still glistens in the eye of every youthful hero. Nor 
 does the tender sigh yet cease to heave in the fair bosom 
 of Columbia's daughters. 
 
 ' Farewell, Washington, a long farewell ! 
 Thy country's tears embalm thy memory ; 
 Thy virtues challenge immortality ; 
 Impress'd on grateful hearts, thy name shall live 
 Till dissolution's deluge drown the world.'" 
 
 During Webster's fourth year in college he studied par- 
 ticularly intellectual philosophy, ethics, and international 
 law ; while at the same time he paid special attention 
 to his improvement in oratory. For this noble and 
 masterly art he seemed to have, from an early period, a 
 very strong predilection, and at a precocious age gave 
 evidence of a future distinction in it. He perused the great 
 masters of ancient and modern eloquence with intense 
 interest, and endeavored to imitate some of theif qualities. 
 At length the end of his academical career arrived. Four 
 studious years had Webster spent at Dartmouth ; and each 
 advancing month gave proof of his constant and rapid 
 progress. On commencement-day he delivered an oration 
 on " Natural Science," dwelling chiefly on the then re- 
 cent and remarkable discoveries of Lavoisier in chemistry. 
 Why he selected so dry and abstract a theme for the sub- 
 ject of a speech on such an occasion, it would be difficult to 
 conjecture. It is probable that the distribution of themes 
 among the other members of the graduating class may have 
 been such as to render that subject desirable or even 
 necessary on his part. He graduated on the 26th of 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 23 
 
 August, 1801, and was then prepared to look abroad upon 
 trie great world for a wider and more important sphere of 
 activity in the future ; and we may truly add, that never 
 did a stronger intellectual giant brace "liilnself to the per- 
 formance of any difficult and noble task than was he 
 when he turned his back on the cherished and beloved 
 shades of Dartmouth to engage in other and far diflferent 
 scenes. 
 
24 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Webster continues tlie Study of the Law — He becomes Principal of 
 Frjeburg Academj' — Mr. Fessenden — His Further Studies with Mr. 
 Thompson — His Removal to Boston — Christopher Gore — The Otfered 
 Clerkship — Webster's Admission to the Bar — Commences Practice at 
 Boscawen — His Removal to Portsmouth — His Marriage — His First 
 Term in Congress. 
 
 Daniel Webster had now resolved to devote himself to 
 the legal profession as his pursuit through life ; and ac- 
 cordingly he entered his name as a student of law in the 
 office of Thomas W. Thompson, immediately after his return 
 from college to Salisbury. Yet at this time his means were 
 so limited that he felt the necessity of endeavoring to 
 earn something for himself ; and he therefore began to look 
 about for an engagement in his old craft of school-teach- 
 ing, — the usual resort of necessitous youths of talent both 
 then and in later times. Through the recommendation of 
 a friend, he was invited to take charge of an academy then 
 vacant at Fryeburg, in Maine. He commenced his labors 
 in this capacity in January, 1803, and continued them 
 during nine months. The great statesman subsequently 
 described his entry into the scene of his future achieve- 
 ments as a pedagogue, in the following language. Said he, 
 "At that time I was a youth not quite twenty years of age, 
 with a slender frame of less than one hundred and twenty 
 pounds' weight. On deciding to go, my father gave me 
 rather an ordinary horse, and after making the journey 
 from Salisbury upon his back, I was to dispose of him to 
 the best of my judgment, for my own benefit. Imme- 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 25 
 
 diately on my arrival, I called upon you,* stating that I 
 would sell the horse for forty dollars, and requesting your 
 aid in his disposal. You replied that he was worth more, 
 and gave me an obligation for a larger sum, and in a few 
 days succeeded in making a sale for me at the advanced 
 price. I well remember that the purchaser lived about 
 three miles from the village, and that his name was James 
 Walker. I suppose he has long since deceased." On being 
 told that he was still living, he said, with great heartiness : 
 " Please give him my best respects." 
 
 Among the intimate associates of Webster at Fryeburg 
 was the Rev. William Fessenden, whose personal qualities 
 fitted him in every respect to be the companion of so 
 remarkable a youth, and whose large and well-selected 
 library opened to him rare and valuable treasures of know- 
 ledge. Though he was much older than the young peda- 
 gogue, he found much congeniality in his society ; and 
 their conversations on the gravest questions of history and 
 philosophy were frequent and protracted, and were doubt- 
 less promotive of the improvement of both. 
 
 When at length Webster resigned his post, he received 
 a vote of thanks from the trustees, in addition to his salary, 
 setting forth the industry and ability with which he had 
 performed his duties. After a brief tour of travel for the 
 benefit of his health, he returned to Salisbury and entered 
 himself regularly as a student of law in the ofiice of his 
 former friend, Mr. Thompson. With him he remained 
 during eighteen months, devoting himself most assiduousl}'' 
 to the attainment of professional knowledge. Though his 
 preceptor was a man of very competent attainments for 
 the place which he filled, he was far below the grade of 
 young Webster's aspirations ; and the latter now felt a dis- 
 
 * Addressed to Mr. Robert Bradley, of New Hampshire. 
 
 3 
 
26 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 position to look elsewhere for a more learned and accom- 
 plished instructor. He naturally turned his thoughts 
 toward Boston, then, as now, regarded as the capital of 
 New England. Among the lawyers who at that time held 
 an eminent position at that bar was the Hon. Christopher 
 Gore ; and him Webster selected as his professional tutor. 
 
 Mr. Gore was every way worthy of this preference. He 
 was a native of Boston, a graduate of Harvard University, 
 and had entered upon the practice of the law soon after the 
 opening of the courts which followed the proclamation of 
 peace in 1783. He was appointed by Washington the first 
 United States District Attorney for the District of Massa- 
 chusetts, and was subsequently made a commissioner with 
 William Pinckney, under the seventh article of Jay's 
 treaty with England, to reside in England. After his 
 return to Boston he was elected Governor of Massachusetts, 
 and Senator in Congress from his native State. A man of 
 such ability was a fit instructor for the aspiring and 
 enlarging intellect of young Webster ; and it is a circum- 
 stance which is recorded greatly to his praise that he soon 
 discerned the superior intellectual power which his pupil 
 possessed, and admitted him to terms of familiarity and 
 equality of intercourse which were rarely permitted to 
 others under similar circumstances, and which conferred 
 very great credit upon both of them. 
 
 Mr. Webster remained in the ofiice of Governor Gore 
 from July, 180-1, till March, 1805, assiduously pursuing his 
 studies and devoting his attention more particularly to the 
 higher and more abstruse branches of the law. He also 
 made himself familiar with a Avide range of English history ; 
 being persuaded, as every intelligent jurist must be, that 
 law is in itself in a great measure an historical science, 
 and that no one can be a master in it who is not acquainted 
 with the annals of the English nation and the gradual de- 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 27 
 
 velopment and consolidation of English common law. So 
 ardent and protracted were Mr. Webster's studies that his 
 health began to be affected by it, and the relaxation of 
 travelling became necessary for him. Accordingly, accom- 
 panied by Mr. Baldwin, an intelligent citizen of Boston, he 
 journeyed in the autumn of 1804 through a portion of New 
 England and New York. He stopped a short time at 
 Albany, and was courteously received and entertained by 
 the Schuylers and Van Rensselaers, the social magnates 
 of the place. He impressed all whom he met with a con- 
 viction of his superior mental powers. 
 
 Having returned to Boston, he resumed his legal studies ; 
 and soon an incident occurred which displayed in a clear 
 and convincing light his stability of character and his 
 resolution of purpose. His father's estate was at that 
 time considerably embarrassed with debt ; and that debt 
 had been chiefly incurred by his efforts to support his sons 
 Daniel and Ezekiel during their collegiate studies. A 
 pecuniary obligation in that day, when imprisonment for 
 debt was still the disgrace and stigma of the law of the 
 land, was a very serious matter ; and it was natural that 
 his incumbrances should be the cause of much anxiety to 
 Webster's father, and that he should use his utmost en- 
 deavors to be released from the oppressive burden. In 
 pursuance of this purpose, he succeeded in obtaining for 
 his son Daniel the appointment of clerk to the Court of 
 Common Pleas in his native county ; an office which was 
 worth fifteen hundred dollars, a large portion of which 
 could be appropriated to the liquidation of the father's 
 debts. He immediately wrote to Daniel, informing him of 
 his good fortune, and requiring him to return at once to 
 Salisbury to enter upon the duties of his new ofiice. 
 
 This proposition was a sudden blow to all the ambitious 
 aspirings of the young student. To relinquish his cherished 
 
28 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 and chosen profession, and the hopes which were conncet( d 
 ■with it, would have been a sad cahimity indeed ; yet he was 
 affectionately attached to his father, and he would be 
 willing to make almost any sacrifice to promote his inte- 
 rests. A terrible struggle ensued in the mind of young 
 Webster. He carefully weighed all the considerations 
 which appertained to each side of the question. At length 
 he started homeward, reached his father's house, and hur- 
 ried into his presence. It was not long before the latter 
 discovered that Daniel did not regard the proffered post 
 with much approbation ; and at length he positively refused 
 to abandon his profession and subside into the obscurity of 
 court clerk. The old man was astonished and greatly 
 offended. lie used every argument to overcome the resolu- 
 tion of his ambitious son ; but he reasoned in vain. At last 
 Daniel, having expressed his determination to return to Bos- 
 ton, poured into the lap of his astonished father the sum in 
 gold which was necessary to liquidate all his debts and set 
 his mind at rest. The joy produced by this unexpected 
 good fortune may readily be imagined ; and Daniel then 
 explained how a generous friend in Boston, to whom he 
 had stated his dilemma, named Emery, had kindly offered 
 to lend him the money, which offer he had thankfully 
 accepted. 
 
 After this pleasing incident, young Webster returned to 
 Boston and completed his studies. He was admitted to 
 the bar after a rigid examination in March, 1805. On 
 making the motion to that effect, Mr. Gore added, con- 
 trary to the usual custom, a eulogy on the abilities and 
 deserts of his pupil. The next point to be decided was, 
 where the ncwly-fledged lawyer should settle nnd com- 
 mence his professional career. Many considerations 
 plead in favor of his remaining in Boston. His friends 
 in that city urged him to do so, and tendered liim their 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 29 
 
 influence and patronage. One firm offered him a collecting 
 busmess amounting to thirty thousand dollars. Boston 
 was a theatre admirably fitted for the future exercise of 
 his talents. But other and stronger considerations in- 
 duced him to bury himself in the quiet obscurity of a 
 remote village of New Hampshire. He desired to be near 
 his aged father ; and that motive, more than any other, 
 induced him to desert the brilliant career which Boston 
 offered him, and return to his native spot. He did so, and 
 opened an office in the neighboring village of Boscawen, 
 where his window was decorated by the unpretending sign 
 of "i>. Webster, Attoryieyr Thus, in March, 1805, when 
 twenty-three years old, and after nine years of preparatory 
 study, did this great man commence his public career. It 
 will readily be supposed that he soon began to attract 
 attention and to gain practice. His first case was tried in 
 the presence of his father, who still sat upon the bench as 
 an Associate Judge. It is said that his abilities as a 
 speaker gained him the admiration of his contemporaries at 
 the commencement of his career, and that his future emi- 
 nence was immediately predicted. In two years after his 
 admission to the bar, his fame extended throughout the 
 whole of his native State ; and among the hundred lawyers 
 who at that time lived and practised in it he was already 
 regarded as one of the ablest. He was remarkable for 
 the care with which he prepared his cases, as well as for 
 the ability with which he tried them. In arguing disputed 
 points of law and of evidence, in the examination of wit- 
 nesses, and in addresses to the jury, he displayed superior 
 ability. His father died a short time after he commenced 
 practice ; and hence the strongest motive which attracted 
 him to his obscure home was withdrawn. Accordingly, after 
 a residence of two years at Boscawen, Mr. Webster re- 
 moved to Portsmouth for the purpose of entering upon a 
 
 3* 
 
30 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 more extended and more appropriate sphere. This was 
 the largest and most important city in the State, and it 
 numbered among its resident lawyers several men of 
 great eminence and ability. Among these were Jeremiah 
 Mason and Jeremiah Smith, who soon discovered the great 
 talents of the new-comer, and accorded to him that con- 
 sideration and courtesy which he deserved. Mr. Webster's 
 professional prospects rapidly brightened, and he soon 
 obtained a large and lucrative practice, though surrounded 
 by competitors of no mean ability, and possessed of the 
 advantages of patronage and local influence. 
 
 On the 11th of June, 1808, an important event occurred 
 in the life of this remarkable man. It was his marriage 
 to a young lady to whom he had become attached, the 
 daughter of the Rev. Mr. Fletcher, of Hopkinton, and a 
 person of great beauty, intelligence and amiability. In an 
 old newspaper which is long since defunct forever, named 
 the Portsmouth Oracle, this event is thus very briefly 
 narrated : " Married, in Salisbury, Daniel Webster, Esq., 
 of this town, to Miss Grace Fletcher." Few matrimonial 
 alliances have ever been contracted which were productive 
 of a greater degree of domestic happiness than this. 
 
 Very few incidents deserving of note occurred to Mr. 
 Webster during the four years which elapsed from his 
 marriage till the period when he entered the political 
 arena. That interval was industriously filled up by his 
 close attention to his professional pursuits. His reputa- 
 tion as a lawyer was gradually rising higher and higlier ; 
 so that his services were in constant requisition, and some- 
 times at distant places. He soon became the most pro- 
 minent and distinguished citizen of Portsmouth ; and, as 
 such, it was very natural that he should be drawn into the 
 vortex of political life. He resisted this tendency for 
 some time, till at length, in November, 1812, he was 
 
OF DANIEL AYEBSTEH. 31 
 
 placed in nomination for a seat in Congress, with his con- 
 sent, — an honor which he had declined on several previous 
 occasions. He belonged to what was then known as the 
 Federal party, and the crisis which occurred at that time 
 was of more than usual importance and difficulty. The 
 embargo and the war with England had resulted most 
 disastrously to the commerce and the interests of New 
 England. Mr. Webster was nominated and voted for as 
 the representative and advocate of peace and free-trade. 
 As such he was elected to represent the district to which 
 Portsmouth belonged.* 
 
 According to the usual operation of law, Mr. Webster 
 would not have taken his seat in Congress until the Decem- 
 ber of the following year; but the imminence of the 
 crisis had induced the President, Mr. Madison, to sum- 
 mon an extra session, which commenced its sitting in 
 May, 1813. At the appropriate time the new repre- 
 sentative began his journey toward the Federal capital. 
 He took his seat for the first time in that hall which 
 was destined so often afterward to be the scene of his 
 magnificent displays of talent, on the 24th of May, 1813. 
 The first committee of which he was appointed a mem- 
 ber was that on Foreign Affiiirs ; and with him were 
 associated such men as Calhoun, Grundy, Jackson of 
 
 * The following interesting relic of the past will show the state of 
 parties and the names of candidates as they existed at that time in that 
 portion of the Confederacy : 
 
 THE WEBSTER TICKET. 
 
 Daniel Webster 18,597 
 
 Bradbury Cilley 18,595 
 
 William Hale 18,583 
 
 Samuel Smith 18,569 
 
 Roger Voss 18,(311 
 
 Jeduthuu Wilcox 18,478 
 
 OPPOSITION TICKET. 
 
 John F. Parrott 16,051 
 
 John H. Hai'per 15,985 
 
 David L. Morrill 16,060 
 
 Samuel Dinsmoor 15,990 
 
 Jesse Jolinson 15,927 
 
 Josiah Butler 15,764 
 
 Number of Scattering 784 
 
r>2 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 Virginia, and Fish of New York. Nor did he long remain 
 a silent member of the House. On the 10th of June, 
 after occupying his seat about two weeks, he rose and 
 offered a series of resolutions, which sifted the matter of 
 the war, then under deliberation, to the bottom. As these 
 resolutions possess more than ordinary interest as the 
 first public effort of Mr. Webster in the Congress of his 
 country, we will here insert them : 
 
 " Resolved, That the President of the United States be 
 requested to inform this House, unless the public interest 
 should, in his opinion, forbid such communication, when, 
 by whom, and in what manner the first intelligence was 
 ffiven to this Government of the decree of the Govern- 
 ment of France, bearing date the 28th of April, 1811, 
 and purporting to be a definite repeal of the decrees of 
 Berlin and Milan. 
 
 " Resolved, That the President of the United States be 
 requested to inform this House whether Mr. Russell, late 
 ClMrgS d' Affaires of the United States at the Court of 
 France, hath ever admitted or denied to his Government 
 the correctness of the declaration of the Duke of Bassano 
 to Mr. Barlow, the late minister of the United States at 
 that court, as stated in Mr. Barlow's letter of the 12th of 
 INIay, 1812, to the Secretary of State, that the said decree 
 of April 28th, 1811, had been communicated to his (Mr. 
 Barlow's) predecessor there ; and to lay before this House 
 any correspondence with Mr. Russell relative to that sub- 
 ject which it may not be improper to communicate ; and 
 also any correspondence between Mr. Barlow and Mr. 
 Russell on that subject, which may be in the possession of 
 the Department of State. 
 
 " Resolved, That the President of the United States 
 be requested to inform this House whether the Minister 
 of France near the United States ever informed this 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 3B 
 
 Govei'iiment of the existence of the said deci'ee of the 
 28th of April, 1811, and to lay before the House any 
 correspondence that may have taken place with the said 
 Minister relative thereto, which the President may not 
 think improper to be communicated. 
 
 " Resolved, That the President of the United States be 
 requested to communicate to this House any other in- 
 formation which may be in his possession, and which he 
 may not deem injurious to the public interest to disclose, 
 relative to the said decree of the 28th of April, 1811, 
 and tending to show at what time, by whom, and in what 
 manner the said decree was first made known to this 
 Government or to any of its representatives or agents. 
 
 " Resolved, That the President be requested, in case 
 the fact be that the first information of the existence of 
 said decree of the 28th of April, 1811, ever received by 
 this Government or any of its ministers or agents, was 
 that communicated in May, 1812, by the Duke of Bassano, 
 to Mr. Barlow, and by him to his Government, as men- 
 tioned in his letter to the Secretary of State, of May 12, 
 1812, and the accompanying papers, to inform this House 
 whether the Government of the United States hath ever 
 received from that of France any explanation of the 
 reasons of that decree being concealed from this Govern- 
 ment and its Ministers for so long a time after its date ; 
 and, if such explanation has been asked by this Govern- 
 ment, and has been omitted to be given by that of France, 
 Avhether this Government has made any remonstrance, or 
 expressed any dissatisfaction, to the Government of 
 France, at such concealment." 
 
 These resolutions Mr. Webster supported by an argu- 
 ment of much ability. It was his maiden speech in Con- 
 gress. It impressed all who heard it with a high estimate 
 of his talents ; and among the res|j was Cliief-Justice 
 
34 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 Marshall, who declared, in a letter subsequently written to 
 a friend, " that though he was then unacquainted with 
 Mr. Webster, he readily discerned from that speech that 
 he was a very able man, and would become one of the first 
 statesmen in America, and perhaps the very first." 
 
 So well had Mr. Webster ac |uitted himself during his 
 first term of office as representative in Congress, that, 
 after its conclusion, in August, 1814, he was re-elected 
 from his former district by an immense majority. On his 
 return to the national councils, a very different state of 
 aifairs existed, and called for a diiferent soecies of lesisla- 
 tion. In December, 1814, peace with England was pro- 
 claimed ; and thenceforth the internal and commercial 
 affairs of the country demanded the attention of Congress. 
 The currency was in a state of miserable derangement, 
 and the Government proposed the establishment of a 
 United States Bank as the most efficient remedy for the 
 existing evils. The charter of the first United States 
 Bank had expired several years prior to this date. The 
 constitutionality of such an institution was one of the 
 chief points under discussion. Mr. Madison directed his 
 Secretary of State, Mr. Dallas, to send a bill to the House 
 proposing to erect a new bank with a capital of fifty 
 millions, forty-five millions of which should consist of 
 the public stocks and five millions of specie. It was not 
 to be a specie-paying bank, and was to lend the Govern- 
 ment thirty millions at any time in payment for the im- 
 munities which were thus conferred upon it. Mr. Webster 
 was not opposed to a United States Bank in the abstract ; 
 but he condemned an institution which should be based en- 
 tirely upon such questionable principles. He denounced it 
 as a mere paper-money and flimsy contrivance, calculated to 
 rob the community and to embarrass both the Government 
 and the currency. iSo ably did he and some other repre- 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 35 
 
 sentatives oppose the passage of the bill, that it was lost as 
 originally reported; but, being afterward reconsidered, 
 some important amendments were introduced into it and 
 then adopted. It was immediately submitted to the Pre- 
 sident for his approval ; but the latter was not disposed 
 thus to abandon his first position, and he returned it with 
 his objections. The period for the adjournment of Con- 
 gress supervened at this crisis ; and the subject was post- 
 poned until a subsequent occasion, when it again assumed 
 a prominent position in the deliberations of Congress and 
 in the interest of the nation. 
 
36 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Calaitiity at Portsmouth — Webster's Second Term in Congress — The 
 Tariff — Webster's Opposition to it — His Removal to Boston — His Pro- 
 fessional Distinction— Case of Kenniston vs. Goodridgc— Mr. Webster 
 declines Political Honors — Continues his Professional Labors — Serves 
 in the Convention to Revise the Constitution of Massachusetts — Cele- 
 brated Dartmouth College Case— Signal Display of Mr. Webster's 
 Abilities. 
 
 In December, 1813, Mr. Webster suffered a heavy loss 
 in the burning of his house at Portsmouth, together with 
 his library and all his private papers. This calamity em- 
 barrassed him in several ways. It was not merely a 
 pecuniary loss, but it occasioned him great inconvenience 
 by being deprived of many important and valuable memo- 
 randa, which contained the fruits of long study and 
 laborious research both in regard to legal and literary 
 subjects. But a mind as powerful as his could not be 
 disheartened by any misfortune, however great; and he 
 resumed his professional pursuits with undiminished ardor 
 and success. 
 
 The interval between the thirteenth and the fourteenth 
 Congress, from March to December, 1815, was actively em- 
 ployed by Mr. Webster. When Congress reassembled, he 
 took his place as a representative from New Hampshire. 
 Already liad he made his mark and acquired an eminence 
 in the national legislature ; and his conduct and policy 
 were watched with interest. The first subject of import- 
 ance which came up for discussion was the question of 
 revenue and taxation. The revenues of the Federal 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 37 
 
 Government were then in an embarrassed condition. The 
 expenses of the recent war with England had loaded the 
 country with heavy debts; and a protective tariff was 
 proposed by the war-party for the purpose of increasing 
 the revenue, and for promoting the interests of those 
 domestic manufactures which had commenced to exist and 
 to flourish in certain portions of the Confederacy. The 
 interests of New England at that period were cliiefly of a 
 commercial and maritime nature; and a high tariff was 
 consequently repugnant to the feelings and the welfare of 
 her people. Mr. Webster, therefore, as one of her repre- 
 sentatives in Congress, felt it to be his duty to oppose a 
 tariff at that time. He admitted the constitutionality of 
 the measure, though he denied its expediency. But the 
 Middle and Southern States combined their resources 
 together, and it was thereby triumphantly carried. 
 
 The next measure of importance which occupied the at- 
 tention of Congress was the establishment of the United 
 States Bank. Mr. Webster again opposed the creation of 
 an institution which should be closely connected with the 
 Government. He contended that both should be entirely 
 independent of each other. He defended his opinions 
 with great logical force and ability in several speeches 
 made on the occasion; but his efforts were again unsuccess- 
 ful, and the bank was established. He was more fortunate 
 in his next movement. He offered resolutions in the 
 House the purport of which was to ordain, in substance, 
 that all debts due to the Federal Government in all the 
 several States should be liquidated only in gold or silver, 
 or in the notes of such banks as paid specie at their 
 counters on demand. Previous to this period, the revenues 
 collected in the different States had been paid in the bills 
 of the banks of those States respectively. Some States 
 therefore whose notes constantly bore a par value — such, for 
 
38 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 instance, as those of New England — paid the full amount 
 of the sums due to the Federal treasury ; whereas other 
 States, whose banks were at a heavy discount, defrauded 
 the Government sometimes as much as twenty-five per 
 cent, by paying their dues in the notes of the banks of 
 those States, which did not bear par value. The resolu- 
 tions offered by Mr. Webster, while they were perfectly just 
 and equitable in the abstract, were also highly favorable 
 to the interests of New England, and as such they greatly 
 increased his popularity and influence with his constituents. 
 At the termination of this session of Congress Mr. 
 Webster returned home covered with laurels. He now 
 determined to seek a more enlarged arena for his future 
 professional labors ; and he resolved to remove either to 
 Boston or Albany, in both of which places he had many 
 influential friends. After some deliberations, he selected 
 Boston as his future home, and in August, 1816, he removed 
 his family thither. He had, indeed, another session to 
 serve in Congress as representative for New Hampshire ; 
 but the events of that session were unimportant, and 
 nothing occurred in it in reference to Mr. Webster which 
 needs to be recapitulated in this narration of his history. 
 At its close he refused all further political honors, and 
 devoted himself to his professional duties in Boston. 
 Great as were his talents, it was necessary even for him 
 to exert himself, in order to acquire a lucrative and emi- 
 nent position at such a bar as the capital of New England 
 then possessed ; and during some years Mr. Webster devoted 
 himself assiduously to the duties of his profession. He 
 rapidly rose to the first place at the bar of his adopted 
 State. As may readily be supposed, his natural gifts and 
 his acquired powers made him facile princeps among a 
 host of able and disiinguishod advocates. Among his 
 rivals there were indeed men who were his equals, perhaps 
 
OF DANIEL AVEBSTEPw , 39 
 
 his superiors, in one single gift or intellectual accomplish- 
 ment. Some may have had more technical legal learning, 
 others more experience at the bar, and more craft. 13 ;t 
 he was unequalled for a rare and admirable combination 
 of great gifts, which constituted in him a stupendous and 
 unequalled whole. 
 
 Mr. Webster's practice soon became extensive and profit- 
 able. He entered into both civil and criminal causes. Some 
 of these were of the first importance, and of general interest 
 'throughout the community. The ability, the eloquence, 
 the learning and the success with which he conducted 
 them won for him a wide reputation as an advocate, and 
 %ided the laurels of the forum to the plaudits of the 
 Senate, which he already enjoyed. One of these law-suits 
 deserves to be described more minutely, from the degree 
 of general attention which it attracted at the time. It 
 was the case of the Kennistons vs. Goodridge. The 
 latter was a respectable young man who resided at Bangor 
 in Maine. On his way to Boston with a considerable sum 
 of money, he was reported to have been robbed. Before 
 commencing his journey, he procured a pair of pistois ; 
 and upon each piece of money which he carried he had 
 made a private mark, by which he could readily identify 
 it again. Mr. Marston of Newburyport, who was asso- 
 ciated with Mr. Webster in the trial, thus describes the 
 succeeding incidents of the case : 
 
 " When he arrived at Exeter, New Hampshire, he pro- 
 cured nine balls, and then, for the first time, made no 
 secret of having pistols. At this place he left his sleigh, 
 obtained a saddle, and started for Newburyport on horse- 
 back, late in the afternoon of the 19th of December, 
 1817, passing the Essex Merrimack bridge a few minutes 
 before nine o'clock. On the brow of the hill, a short dis- 
 tance from the bridge, is the place of the robbery, in full 
 
40 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 view of several houses, on a great thoroughfare, where 
 people are constantly passing, and where the mail-coach 
 and two wagons were known to have passed within a few 
 minutes of the time of the alleged robbery. 
 
 " The major's story was as follows : ' Three men sud- 
 denly appeared before him, one of whom seized the bridle 
 of the horse, presented a pistol, and demanded his money. 
 The major, pretending to be getting his money, seized a 
 pistol from his portmanteau with his right hand, grasped 
 the ruffian at the horse's head with his left, and both dis- 
 charged their pistols at the same instant, the ball of his 
 adversary passing through the major's hand. The three 
 robbers then pulled him from his horse, dragged him ov^ 
 the frozen ground, and over the fence, beating him till he 
 was senseless, and robbed him of about seventeen hundred 
 dollars in gold and paper money, and left him with his 
 gold watch and all his papers in the field. Recovering in 
 about half an hour, he went back to the bridge, passed 
 several houses without calling, and, at the toll-house, ac- 
 cused the first person he met with — a female — of robbing 
 him ; and so continued charging various people about him 
 with the robbery. After some time, a lantern was pro- 
 cured, and himself with others started for the place of 
 the robbery, where were found his watch, papers, pen- 
 knife, and other articles. He represented to them that 
 the robbers had bruised his head, stamped upon his breast, 
 and stabbed him in several places. Physicians were 
 called ; and he appeared to be insane. The next day he 
 went to Newburyport, and was confined to his bed for 
 several weeks. A reward of three hundred dollars, soon 
 increased by voluntary subscriptions to one thousand, was 
 oifered for the detection of the robbers and the recovery 
 of the money. As soon as the major was able to leave 
 his bed, he went to Dauvers, consulted his friends there ; 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTEPw _ 41 
 
 and the result of his deliberations and inquiries was the 
 arrest of the Kennistons, who were found in an obscure 
 part of the town of New Market, New Hampshire, their 
 place of residence. In their house the major found some 
 pieces of his marked gold deposited under a pork-barrel 
 in the cellar. He also found there a ten-dollar note, which 
 he identified as his own. 
 
 " This was proof indeed of the facts of the robbery, 
 which seemed for a time effectually fastened on the Ken- 
 nistons. But one circumstance after another came to 
 light in regard to the transaction, until some people felt 
 doubts creeping over their minds as to the truthfulness of 
 the major's story. These were few in number, it is true ; 
 but such an intimation, coming from any respectable 
 source, was enough to startle the major and his friends 
 from their apathy and incite them to renewed efforts to 
 probe this dark and mysterious transaction to its depths. 
 The result was to search the house of Mr. Pearson, the 
 toll-gatherer at the bridge; but here nothing was found. 
 They then procured the services of an old conjurer of 
 Danvers, Swimmington by name, and, under his direction, 
 with witch-hazel and metallic rods, renewed their search 
 upon Mr. Pearson's premises, this time discovering the 
 major's gold and paper wrappers. Mr. Pearson was 
 arrested, carried to Newburyport, examined before two 
 magistrates, and discharged at once. This operation 
 proved most unpropitious to the major's plans. So great 
 was the indignation of Mr. Pearson's friends — for he was 
 a respectable man — that they lost all control over them- 
 selves, and, after the examination, detaching the horses 
 from the sleigh, they drew him home themselves. 
 
 " It now became more necessary than ever that some 
 one should be found who might be connected with the 
 Kennistons in the robbery ; for the circumstances in re- 
 
 4» 
 
42 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 lation to these men were such that the puhlic couhl not 
 believe that they had received a portion of the spoiL The 
 next step, therefore, was to arrest one Taber of Boston, 
 who had formerly lived in Portland, and whom Goodridge 
 said he had seen at Alfred on his way up, and from whom 
 he pretended to have obtained information in regard to 
 the Kennistons. In Taber's house were found a number 
 of the marked wrappers which the major had put round 
 his gold before leaving home. Taber was likewise brought 
 to Newburyport, examined, and bound over for trial Avith 
 the Kennistons. 
 
 " Notwithstanding all this accumulation of evidence, 
 the public were not satisfied. It seemed to be necessary 
 that somebody living near the bridge should be connected 
 with the transaction ; and Mr. Joseph Jackman was 
 fastened upon as that unfortunate man, he having left 
 Newbury for New York very soon after the alleged rob- 
 bery. Thither Goodridge immediately proceeded, found 
 Jackman, who was living then with his brother, searched 
 the house, and in the garret, among some old rubbish, 
 found a large number of his marked wrappers ! The 
 major's touch was magical, and underneath his fingers 
 gold and bank-notes grew in plenty. Jackman was ar- 
 rested and lodged in 'the Tombs,' Avhile Goodridge re- 
 turned to Boston, got a requisition from the governor, 
 and had him brought in irons to Ipswich, where the 
 supreme judicial court was then in session. The grand 
 jury had risen ; but he was examined before a magistrate, 
 and ordered to recognize to appear at the next term, 
 which he did, and was discharged. An indictment had 
 been found against the Kennistons and Taber ; and the 
 time of trial hnd arrived. Notwithstanding the doubts 
 and suspicions which had been excited by the conduct 
 of Goodridge, yet the evidence against the Kennistons, 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 43 
 
 Tabcr and Jackman was so overwhelming, that ahnost 
 every one felt sure of their conviction. To such an ex- 
 tent did this opinion prevail, that no member of the Essex 
 bar was willing to undertake their defence. Under these 
 circumstances, two or three individuals, who had been 
 early convinced that the major's stories were false frona 
 beginning to end, determined, the day before the trial, to 
 send to Suifolk for counsel. Mr. Webster had just then 
 removed to Boston from Portsmouth. His services were 
 engaged ; and, late in the night preceding the day of trial, 
 he arrived at Ipswich, having had no opportunity to exa- 
 mine the witnesses, and but little time for consultation. 
 The indictment against Taber was nol prossed,, and the 
 trial of tli>e Kennistons was commenced. Mr. Webster, 
 as senior counsel, conducted the defence with a degree of 
 ability, boldness, tact and legal learning which had rarely 
 been witnessed in Essex county ; and, notwithstanding the 
 accumulated mass of evidence against the Kennistons, they 
 were acquitted. 
 
 " At the next term of the supreme judicial court, Jack- 
 man was indicted and tried ; but the jui-y did not agree, 
 though the Hon. William Prescott had been employed to 
 assist the prosecuting oflBcer. Jackman was again tried 
 at the next term of the court, and this time defended by 
 Mr. Webster, and acquitted. 
 
 "The criminal . prosecutions growing out of this affair 
 being thus ended, Mr. Pearson commenced an action 
 against Goodridge for malicious prosecution, laying his 
 damages at two thousand dollars, which sum the jury 
 awarded him without leaving their seats. In this case 
 also Mr. Webster was counsel for the plaintiff; and time 
 had brought forth so many new facts, and the evidence 
 was so clear and overwhelming against Goodridge, that 
 the public became satisfied that he was his own robber ! 
 
44 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 He was surrendered by his bail, committed to jail, took 
 the poor debtors' oath, and soon after left the common- 
 wealth, and has not resided here since. The public rarely 
 stop to consider how much they are indebted to men like 
 Webster for laying bare the villainy of such a deep-laid 
 and diabolical plot. But for him, there is no doubt the 
 Kennistons and Jackman would have been convicted of 
 highway-robbery, though innocent." 
 
 After Mr. Webster had resided about two years in 
 Boston, he was urged by his friends to become a candidate 
 for Congress for the third time. This offer he positively 
 declined ; and a short time afterward when his admirers 
 wished to put forward his name before the Legislature 
 of Massachusetts as candidate for election to the United 
 States Senate, he returned the same answer, and again 
 declined the proffered honor. The truth was, that both 
 his interests and his inclination bound him to his pro- 
 fession, and he would not permit himself to be diverted 
 at that time from its duties even by the prospect of the 
 highest political promotion. Seven years were thus spent 
 by Mr. Webster in professional pursuits before he again 
 allowed himself to be involved in the distracting strife of 
 politics, excepting in capacities or relations which were to 
 him matters of small moment. Thus, he served as one of 
 the Presidential electors of Massachusetts at the re-elec- 
 tion of Mr. Monroe ; and he was also a delegate to the 
 convention which revised the Constitution of the Common- 
 wealth in 1821. 
 
 During the period in which Mr. Webster devoted himself 
 exclusively to his legal practice in Boston, he was em- 
 ployed in many cases of great interest and of the highest 
 consequence, both in Boston and in the Supreme Court 
 of the United States. Our limits forbid us to enumerate 
 many of these ; and we will confine ourselves to but one. 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 45 
 
 — the memorable Dartmouth College case against Wood- 
 ward. In the year 1769 a charter had been obtained 
 from the Legislature creating and establishing the corpora- 
 tion of the college. It was designated therein as a charity- 
 school, which had originally been founded by Dr. Eleazer 
 Wheelock, and supported by funds which he had collected, 
 or caused to be collected, both in England and America. 
 Subsequently the Legislature of New Hampshire passed 
 several acts which conflicted with some of the provisions of 
 the original charter ; and the question to be determined 
 by the Supreme Court in that trial was, whether the acts 
 of the Legislature, which virtually destroyed the original 
 corporation, which was to consist of but twelve members 
 and no more, and which created in effect a new and a dif- 
 ferent corporation, were binding upon the old corporation 
 without their consent ; if, moreover, those acts were not 
 contrary to the Constitution of the United States. The 
 cause was tried in the first instance in the court of Rock- 
 ingham county, and judgment was given in favor of the 
 constitutionality and validity of the acts of the Legisla- 
 ture in question. A writ of error was sued out by the 
 original plaintiffs, and the cause removed to the Supreme 
 Federal Court at Washington. The case was finally 
 argued on the 10th of March, 1818, before a full bench. 
 Messrs. Webster and Hopkinson represented the plaintiffs 
 in error, Messrs. Holmes and Wirt the defendant in error. 
 Able as were the antagonists of Mr. Webster in this cele- 
 brated trial, his abilities transcended them all. After 
 lengthy and elaborate arguments on both sides, the court 
 decided in favor of the plaintiff's, — the College of Dart- 
 mouth, — and by a final decree declared the acts of the 
 Legislature to have been invalid, and reversed the judg- 
 ment of the court below. 
 
 As this was one of the most signal triumphs of Mr. 
 
46 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 Webster's intellect, it may be proper to introduce here an 
 extract from the masterly argument which he delivered on 
 the occasion. Among his many great forensic efforts, none 
 exhibited more clearly and imposingly the grasp, clearness 
 and power of his mind in dealing with the most intricate 
 and profound principles which are involved in one of the 
 most abstruse and recondite of sciences. After having 
 argued the two fundamental points that the acts of the 
 Legislature were in violation of common right and the Con- 
 stitution of New Hampshire, and that they were repugnant 
 to the Federal Constitution, which forbids all ex post facto 
 laws, he concluded his speech as follows: 
 
 " There are in this case all the essential constituent 
 parts of a contract. There is something to be contracted 
 about ; there are parties ; and there are plain terms in which 
 the agreement of the parties on the subject of the contract 
 is expressed. There are mutual considerations and induce- 
 ments. The charter recites that the founder, on his part, 
 has agreed to establish his seminary in New Hampshire, 
 and to enlarge it beyond its original design, among other 
 things, for the benefit of that province ; and thereupon a 
 charter is given to him and his associates, designated by 
 himself, promising and assuring to them, under the plighted 
 faith of this State, the right of governing the college and 
 administering its concerns in the manner provided in the 
 charter. There is a complete and perfect grant to them 
 of all the power of superintendence, visitation and govern- 
 ment. Is not this a contract ? If lands or money had 
 been granted to him and his associates for the same pur- 
 poses, such grant could not be rescinded. And is there 
 any difference, in legal contemplation, between a grant of 
 corporate franchises and a grant of tangible property ? 
 No such difference is recognised in any decided case, nor 
 does it exist in the common apprehension of mankind. 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 47 
 
 " It is, therefore, contended that this case falls within 
 the true meaning of this provision of the Constitution, as 
 expounded in the decisions of this court ; that the charter 
 of 1769 is a contract, a stipulation or agreement, mutual 
 in its considerations, express and formal in its terms and 
 of a most binding and solemn nature. That the acts in 
 question impair this contract has already been sufficiently 
 shown. They repeal and abrogate its most essential parts. 
 
 "A single observation may not be improper on the 
 opinion of the court of New Hampshire, which has been 
 published. The learned judges who delivered that opinion 
 have viewed this question in a very different light from 
 that in which the plaintiffs have endeavored to exhibit it. 
 After some general remarks, they assume that this college 
 is a public corporation ; and on this basis their judgment 
 rests. Whether all colleges are not regarded as private and 
 eleemosynary corporations by all law-writers and all judi- 
 cial decisions ; whether this college was not founded by 
 Dr. Wheelock ; whether the charter was not granted at 
 his request, the better to execute a trust which he had 
 already created ; whether he and his associates did not 
 become visitors by the charter ; and whether Dartmouth 
 College be not, therefore, in the strictest sense, a private 
 charity, are questions which the learned judges do not 
 appear to have discussed. 
 
 "It is admitted in that opinion that, if it be a private 
 corporation, its rights stand on the same ground as those 
 of an individual. The great question, therefore, to be 
 decided, is. To which class of corporations do colleges thus 
 founded belong? And the plaintiffs have endeavored to 
 satisfy the court that, according to the well-settled prin- 
 ciples and uniform decisions of law, they are private, 
 eleemosynary corporations. 
 
 "Much has heretofore been said on the necessity of 
 
48 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 admitting such a power in the Legislature as has been as- 
 sumed in this case. Many cases of possible evil have been 
 imagined, which might otherwise be without remedy. 
 Abuses, it is contended, might arise in the maniigcment of 
 such institutions, which the ordinary courts of law would 
 be unable to correct. But this is only another instance of 
 that habit of supposing extreme cases, and then of rea- 
 soning from them, which is the constant refuge of those 
 who are obliged to defend a cause Avhich upon its merits 
 is indefensible. It would be sufficient to say in answer 
 that it is not pretended that there was here any such case 
 of necessity. But a still more satisfactory answer is, that 
 the apprehension of danger is groundless, and therefore 
 the whole argument fails. Experience has not taught us 
 that there is danger of great evils or of great inconvenience 
 from this source. Hitherto, neither in our own country 
 nor elsewhere have such cases of necessity occurred. The 
 judicial establishments of the State are presumed to be 
 competent to prevent abuses and violations of trust in 
 cases of this kind, as well as in all others. If they be not, 
 they are imperfect, and their amendment would be a most 
 proper subject for legislative wisdom. Under the govern- 
 ment and protection of the general laws of the land, these 
 institutions have always been found safe, as well as useful. 
 They go on with the progress of society, accommodating 
 themselves easily, without sudden change or violence, to 
 the alterations which take place in its condition, and in the 
 knowledge, the habits and pursuits of men. The English 
 colleges were founded in Catholic ages. Their religion 
 was reformed with the general reformation of the nation, 
 and they are suited perfectly well to the purpose of edu- 
 cating the Protestant youth of modern times. Dartmouth 
 College was established under a charter granted by the 
 provincial Government; but a better constitution for a 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 49 
 
 college, or one more adapted to the condition of things 
 under the present Government, in all material respects, 
 could not now be framed. Nothing in it was found to 
 need alteration at the Revolution. The wise men of that 
 .day saw in it one of the best hopes of future times, and 
 commended it as it was, with parental care, to the protec- 
 tion and guardianship of the Government of the State. A 
 charter of more liberal sentiments, of wiser provisions, 
 drawn with more care or in a better spirit, could not be 
 expected at any time or from any source. The college 
 needed no change in its organization or government. That 
 which it did need was the kindness, the patronage, the 
 bounty, of the Legislature ; not a mock elevation to the 
 character of a university, without the solid benefit of a 
 shilling's donation to sustain the character ; not the 
 swelling and empty authority of establishing institutes and 
 other colleges. This unsubstantial pageantry would seem 
 to have been in derision of the scanty endowment and 
 limited means of an unobtrusive, but useful and growing, 
 seminary. Least of all was there a necessity, or pretence 
 of necessity, to infringe its legal rights, violate its fran- 
 chises and privileges, and pour upon it these overwhelming 
 streams of litigation. 
 
 " But this argument from necessity would equally 
 apply in all other cases. If it be well founded, it would 
 prove that, whenever any inconvenience or evil is experi- 
 enced from the restrictions imposed on the Legislature by 
 the Constitution, these restrictions ought to be disregarded. 
 It is enough to say that the people have thought otherwise. 
 They have most wisely chosen to take the risk of occasional 
 inconvenience from the want of power, in order that there 
 might be a settled limit to its exercise and a permanent 
 security against its abuse. They have imposed prohibi- 
 tions and restraints ; and they have not rendered these 
 
50 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 altogether vain and nugatory by conferring the power of 
 dispensation. If inconvenience should arise which the 
 Legislature cannot remedy under the power conferred upon 
 it, it is not answerable for such inconvenience. That 
 which it cannot do within the limits prescribed to it, it 
 cannot do at all. No Legislature in this country is able — 
 and may the time never come when it shall be able ! — to 
 apply to itself the memorable expression of a Roman 
 pontiif: '■Licet hoc de jure non possumus, volumus 
 tamen de plenitudine potestatis.' 
 
 " The case before the court is not of ordinary import- 
 ance, nor of every-day occurrence. It affects not this 
 college only, but every college, and all the literary institu- 
 tions, of the country. They have flourished hitherto, and 
 have become in a high degree respectable and useful to 
 the community. They have all a common principle of ex- 
 istence, — the inviolability of their charters. It will be a 
 dangerous, a most dangerous experiment, to hold these 
 institutions subject to the rise and fall of popular parties 
 and the fluctuations of political opinions. If the franchise 
 may be at any time taken away or impaired, the property 
 also may be taken away, or its use perverted. Benefactors 
 will have no certainty of effecting the object of their 
 bounty ; and learned men will be deterred from devoting 
 themselves to the service of such institutions, from the 
 precarious title of their offices. Colleges and halls will be 
 deserted by all better spirits, and become a theatre for the 
 contentions of politics. Party and faction will be cherished 
 in the places consecrated to piety and learning. These 
 consequences are neither remote nor possible only. They 
 are certain and immediate. 
 
 " When the court in North Carolina declared the law of 
 the State, which repealed a grant to its university, uncon- 
 stitutional and void, the Legislature had the candor and the 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 51 
 
 wisdom to repeal the law. This example, so honorable tr 
 the State which exhibited it, is most fit to be followed on 
 this occasion. And there is good reason to hope that a 
 State which has hitherto been so much distinguished for 
 temperate counsels, cautious legislation, and regard to law, 
 will not fail to adopt a course which will accord with her 
 highest and best interests, and in no small degree elevate 
 her reputation." 
 
52 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Mr. Webster again elected to Congress — Debates in Congress respecting 
 Greece — Mr. Webster's Speech on the Occasion — Extract from it — His 
 Opposition to the Tariff — Mr. Webster's Speech on the Laying of 
 Bunker Hill Monument — Chairman of the Judiciary Committee — Re- 
 form in the U. S. Supreme Court — Mr. Webster's Speech on the Death 
 of John Adams — He is elected Senator from Massachusetts in the 
 Twentieth Congress. 
 
 In December, 1823, Mr. Webster again took his seat in 
 the House of Representatives at Washington. He had 
 been elected by a very large majority of the citizens of 
 Boston, in consequence of the high fame which he had 
 attained as a statesman, and the confidence which he had 
 secured in their personal esteem. A committee composed 
 of Thomas Perkins, William Sturgis, and other distin- 
 guished residents of Boston, called upon him to inform him 
 of his nomination; and to their solicitations that he should 
 run as a candidate, he yielded. His opponent in the can- 
 vass was Jesse Putnam. When Congress convened Henry 
 Clay was again chosen Speaker ; and many familiar faces 
 welcomed Mr. Webster to the scene of his former brilliant 
 displays of eloquence and statesmanship. 
 
 The first subject of general interest which engaged 
 the attention of the House was the deadly conflict which 
 was at that time raging in Greece between the heroic de- 
 fenders of Grecian liberty and the fierce and savage 
 myrmidons of the Turkish despot. The whole civilized 
 world felt a deep interest in that memorable struggle. 
 England, France, Germany and Poland had experienced 
 the thrilling effect of a spectacle in which, on the one 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 53 
 
 hand, the noblest attributes of humanity — its heroism, its 
 fortitude, its love of country, its patriotic pride, and its 
 regard for ancestral glory — had all been aroused into 
 vigorous and sublime activity ; while on the other hand, 
 the most terrible and detestable qualities of human nature 
 had been enlisted to crush them, — its cruelty, its ferocity, its 
 selfishness, its avarice, and its love of carnage and blood. 
 A powerful nation possessing the most formidable and 
 effective resources seemed about to crush the liberties, and 
 even to obliterate the very existence, of a small and insig- 
 nificant state, — a state glorious indeed in the memories 
 and achievements of the past, but totally incapable, with- 
 out assistance from others, of resisting the colossal power 
 which seemed resolved upon its subjugation and ruin. 
 
 It is not singular that such a contest should interest all 
 intelligent and generous minds. The Senate of Calamita 
 had sent appeals for assistance to several of the countries 
 of Europe; and one of a similar character had reached 
 this country. Intense sympathy for the battling heroes 
 inspired thousands of bosoms; and Mr. Monroe, in his last 
 annual message, adverted to the theme, and expressed the 
 hope that Greece, so long trodden beneath the feet of 
 tyrants, might soon resume her place among the nations, 
 and that no sentiment of selfishness or of fear should pre- 
 vent the friends of liberty throughout the world from 
 rendering the patriots their assistance. On the 8th of 
 December Mr. Webster introduced a resolution in the 
 House to the efiect that " provision ought to be made by 
 law for defraying the expense of an agent or commissioner 
 to Greece, whenever the President should deem it expe- 
 dient to make such an appointment." On the 19tli of 
 January, 1824, the House resolved itself into a committee 
 of the whole, and the resolution was taken up for discussion. 
 Then it was that Mr. Webster delivered one of his most 
 
 5* 
 
54 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 eloquent and memorable orations. He dwelt upon tlie 
 principle already advocated by Mr. Monroe, and known at 
 that time, and ever since, as one of his peculiar views, — that 
 the policy of this country should in general be a peaceful 
 one, and that it should retain the attitude under all cir- 
 cumstances of non-intervention in the affairs of foreign 
 nations. He argued that the case of Greece and her 
 struggle for liberty formed a necessary exception to this 
 salutary rule. But it would be impossible to convey to the 
 reader an idea of the eloquence and power which marked 
 this celebrated oration by any description ; we will there- 
 fore make an extract from it, selecting for that purpose its 
 most striking and remarkable portion : 
 
 " It was about this time — that is to say, at the com- 
 mencement of 1821 — that the revolution burst out in various 
 parts of Greece and the isles. Circumstances, certainly, 
 were not unfavorable, as one portion of the Turkish army 
 was employed in the war against Ali Pacha, in Albania, 
 and another part in the provinces north of the Danube. 
 The Greeks soon possessed themselves of the open country 
 of the Morea, and drove their enemy into the fortresses. 
 Of these, that of Tripolitza, with the city, fell into the 
 hands of the Greeks in the course of the summer. Having, 
 after these first movements, obtained time to breathe, it 
 became, of course, an early object to establish a govern- 
 ment. For this purpose, delegates of the people assembled, 
 under that name which describes the assembly in which we 
 ourselves sit, that name which 'freed the Atlantic,' a Con- 
 gress. A writer who undertakes to render to the civilized 
 world that service which was once performed by Edmund 
 Barke, I mean the compiler of the English Annual Re- 
 gister, asks by what authority this assembly could call 
 itself a congress. Simply, sir, by the same authority by 
 which the people of the United States have given the same 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 55 
 
 name to their own legislature. We, at least, should be 
 naturally inclined to think, not only as far as names, but 
 things, also, are concerned, that the Greeks could hardly 
 have begun their revolution under better auspices; since 
 they have endeavored to render applicable to themselves 
 the general principles of our form of government, as well 
 as its name. This constitution went into operation at the 
 commencement of the next year. In the mean time, the 
 war with Ali Pacha was ended, he having surrendered, and 
 being afterward assassinated, by an instance of treachery 
 and perfidy which, if it had happened elsewhere than 
 under the government of the Turks, would have deserved 
 notice. The negotiation with Russia, too, took a turn 
 unfavorable to the Greeks. The great point upon which 
 Russia insisted, besides the abandonment of the measure of 
 searching vessels bound to the Black Sea, was, that the 
 Porte should withdraw its armies from the neighborhood 
 of the Russian frontiers ; and the immediate consequence 
 of this, when efiected, was to add so much more to the 
 disposable force ready to be employed against the Greeks. 
 These events seemed to have left the whole force of the 
 Turkish empire, at the commencement of 1822, in a con- 
 dition to be employed against the Greek rebellion ; and, 
 accordingly, very many anticipated the immediate destruc- 
 tion of their cause. The event, however, was ordered 
 otherwise. Whpi'e the greatest effort was made, it was met 
 and defeated. Entering the Morea with an army which 
 seemed capable of bearing down all resistance, the Turks 
 were nevertheless defeated and driven back, and pursued 
 beyond the isthmus, within which, as far as it appears, 
 from that time to the present, they have not been able to 
 set their foot. 
 
 " It was in April of this year that the destruction of 
 Scio took place. That island, a sort of appanage of the 
 
56 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 Sultana mother, enjoyed many privileges peculiar to itself. 
 In a population of 130,000 or 140,000, it had not more 
 than 2000 or .3000 Turks : indeed, by some accounts, not 
 near as many. The absence of these ruffian masters had 
 in some degree allowed opportunity for the promotion of 
 knowledge, the accumulation of wealth and the general 
 cultivation of society. Here was the seat of modern Greek 
 literature ; here were libraries, printing-presses and other 
 establishments, which indicate some advancement in refine- 
 ment and knowledge. Certain of the inhabitants of Samos, 
 it would seem, envious of this comparative happiness of 
 Scio, landed upon the island in an irregular multitude, for 
 the purpose of compelling its inhabitants to make common 
 cause with their countrymen against their oppressors. 
 These, being joined by the peasantry, marched to the city 
 and drove the Turks into the castle. The Turkish fleet, 
 lately reinforced from Egypt, happened to be in the neigh- 
 boring seas, and, learning these events, landed a force on 
 the island of fifteen thousand men. There was nothing to 
 resist such an army. These troops immediately entered 
 the city, and began an indiscriminate massacre. The city 
 was fired ; and in four days the fire and sword of the Turk 
 rendered the beautiful Scio a clotted mass of blood and 
 ashes. The details are too shocking to be recited. Forty 
 thousand women and children, unhappily saved from the 
 general destruction, were afterward sold in the market of 
 Smyrna, and sent off into distant and hopeless servitude. 
 Even on the wharves of our own cities, it has been said, 
 have been sold the utensils of those hearths which now 
 exist no longer. Of the whole population which I have 
 mentioned, not above nine hundred persons were left living 
 upon the island. I will only repeat, sir, that these tragical 
 scenes were as fully known at the Congress of Verona as 
 they are now known to us; and it is not too much to call 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 01 
 
 on the powers that constituted that congress, in the name 
 of conscience and in the name of humanity, to tell us if 
 there be nothing even in these unparallel.dd excesses of 
 Turkish barbarity, to excite a sentiment of compassion ; 
 nothing which they regard as so objectionable as even the 
 very idea of popular resistance to power. 
 
 " The events of the year which has just passed by, as 
 far as they have become known to us, have been even more 
 favorable to the Greeks than those of the year preceding. 
 I omit all details, as being as well known to others as to 
 myself. Suffice it to say, that with no other enemy to 
 contend with, and no diversion of his force to other objects, 
 the Porte has not been able to carry the war into the 
 Morea, and that, by the last accounts, its armies were 
 acting defensively in Thessaly. I pass over, also, the 
 naval engagements of the Greeks, although that is a mode 
 of warfare in which they are calculated to excel, and in 
 which they have already performed actions of such dis- 
 tinguished skill and bravery as would draw applause upon 
 the best mariners in the world. The present state of the 
 war would seem to be, that the Greeks possess the whole 
 of the Morea, with the exception of the three fortresses 
 of Patras, Coron, and Modon ; all Candia, but one fortress ; 
 and most of the other islands. They possess the citadel 
 of Athens, Missolonghi, and several other places in Livadia. 
 They have been able to act on the offensive, and to carry 
 the war beyond the isthmus. There is no reason to believe 
 their marine is weakened : probably, on the other hand, it 
 is strengthened. But, what is most of all important, they 
 have obtained time and experience. They have awakened 
 a sympathy throughout Europe and throughout America ; 
 and they have formed a government which seems suited to 
 the emergency of their condition. 
 
 " Sir, they have done much. It would be great injustice 
 
58 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 to compare their achievements with our own. We began 
 our revolution ah-eady possessed of government, and, com- 
 paratively, of civil liberty. Our ancestors had for centuries 
 been accustomed in a great measure to govern themselves. 
 They were well acquainted with popular elections and 
 legislative assemblies, and the general principles and prac- 
 tice of free governments. They had little else to do than 
 to throw off the paramount authority of the parent state. 
 Enough was still left, both of law and of organization, to 
 conduct society in its accustomed course and to unite men 
 together for a common object. The Greeks, of course, 
 could act with little concert at the beginning : they were 
 unaccustomed to the exercise of power, without experience, 
 with limited knowledge, without aid, and surrounded by 
 nations which, whatever claims the Greeks might seem to 
 have upon them, have afforded them nothing but discou- 
 ragement and reproach. They have held out, however, 
 for three campaigns ; and that, at least, is something. 
 Constantinople and the northern provinces have sent forth 
 thousands of troops : they have been defeated. Tripoli, 
 and Algiers, and Egypt, have contributed their marine 
 contingents : they have not kept the ocean. Hordes of 
 Tartars have crossed the Bosphorus : they have died where 
 the Persians died. The powerful monarchies in the neigh- 
 borhood have denounced their cause, and admonished them 
 to abandon it and submit to their fate. They have 
 answered them, that, although two hundred thousand of 
 their countrymen have offered up their lives, there yet 
 remain lives to offer ; and that it is the determination of 
 all, 'yes, of ALL,' to persevere until they shall have esta- 
 blished their liberty, or until the power of their oppressors 
 shall have relieved them from the burden of existence. 
 
 " It may now be asked, perhaps, whether the expression 
 of our owji sympathy, and that of the country, may do 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 59 
 
 them good. I hope it may. It may give them courage 
 and spirit, it may assure them of public regard, teach them 
 that they are not wholly forgotten by the civilized world, 
 and inspire them with constancy in the pursuit of their 
 great end. At any rate, sir, it appears to me that the 
 measure which I have proposed is due to our own character 
 and called for by our own duty. When we shall have dis- 
 charged that duty, we may leave the rest to the disposition 
 of Providence. 
 
 " I do not see how it can be doubted that this measure 
 is entirely jyacijic. I profess my inability to perceive that 
 it has any possible tendency to involve our neutral rela- 
 tions. If the resolution pass, it is not necessary to be 
 immediately acted on. It will not be acted on at all, 
 unless, in the opinion of the President, a proper and safe 
 occasion for acting upon it shall arise. If we adopt the 
 resolution to-day, our relations with every foreign state 
 will be to-morrow precisely what they now are. The resolu- 
 tion will be sufficient to express our sentiments on the sub- 
 jects to which I have adverted. Useful to that purpose, 
 it can be mischievous to no purpose. If the topic were 
 properly introduced into the message, it cannot be impro- 
 perly introduced into discussion in this House. If it were 
 proper — which no one doubts — for the President to express 
 his opinions upon it, it cannot, I think, be improper for us 
 to express ours. The only certain effect of this resolution 
 is to express, in a form usual in bodies constituted like 
 this, our approbation of the general sentiment of the mes- 
 sage. Do we wish to withhold that approbation? The 
 resolution confers on the President no new power, nor does 
 it enjoin on him the exercise of any new duty, nor does 
 it hasten him in the discharge of any existing c|,uty. 
 
 "I cannot imagine that this resolution can add any thing 
 to those excitements which it has been supposed, I think 
 
60 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 very causelessly, might possibly provoke the Turkish 
 Government to acts of hostility. There is already the 
 message, expressing the hope of success to the Greeks and 
 disaster to the Turks, in a much stronger manner than is 
 to be implied from the terms of this resolution. There is 
 the correspondence between the Secretary of State and 
 the Greek agent in London, already made public, in which 
 similar wishes are expressed, and a continuance of the 
 correspondence apparently invited. I might add to this 
 the unexampled burst of feeling which this cause has 
 called forth from all classes of society, and the notorious 
 fact of pecuniary contributions made throughout the 
 country for its aid and advancement. After all this, who- 
 ever can see cause of danger to our pacific relations from 
 the adoption of this resolution has a keener vision than I 
 can pretend to. Sir, there is no augmented danger; there 
 is no danger. The question comes at last to this, whether, 
 on a subject of this sort, this House holds an opinion which 
 is worthy to be expressed. 
 
 " Even suppose, sir, an agent or commissioner were to 
 be immediately sent, — a measure which I myself believe to 
 be the proper one, — there is no breach of neutrality, nor 
 any just cause of offence. Such an agent, of course, Avould 
 not be accredited ; he would not be a public minister. The 
 object would be inquiry and information, — inquiry which 
 we have a right to make, information which we are inte- 
 rested to possess. If a dismemberment of the Turkish 
 empire be taking place, or has already taken place, — if a 
 new state be rising, or be already risen, in the Mediter- 
 ranean, — who can doubt that, without any breach of neu- 
 trality, we may inform ourselves of these events for the 
 government of our own concerns ? 
 
 " The Greeks have declared the Turkish coasts in a 
 state of blockade : may we not inform ourselves whether 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 61 
 
 this blockade be nominal or real? and, of course, whether 
 it shall be regarded or disregarded? The greater our 
 trade may happen to be with Smyrna, a consideration 
 which seems to have alarmed some gentlemen, the greater 
 is the reason, in my opinion, why we should seek to be 
 accurately informed of those events which may aifect its 
 safety. 
 
 " It seems to me impossible, therefore, for any reasonable 
 man to imagine that this resolution can expose us to the 
 resentment of the Sublime Porte. 
 
 " As little reason is there for fearing its consequences 
 upon the conduct of the Allied Powers. They may, very 
 naturally, dislike our sentiments upon the subject of the 
 Greek revolution ; but what those sentiments are they will 
 much more explicitly learn in the President's message than 
 in this resolution. They might, indeed, prefer that we 
 should express no opposition to the doctrines which they 
 have avowed, and the application which they have made 
 of those doctrines to the cause of Greece. But I trust 
 we are not disposed to leave them in any doubt as to our 
 sentiments upon these important subjects. They have 
 expressed their opinions, and do not call that expression 
 of opinion an interference; in which respect they are 
 right, as the expression of opinion in such cases is not 
 such an interference as would justify the Greeks in con- 
 sidering the powers at war with them. For the same 
 reason, any expression which we may make of different 
 principles and different sympathies is no interference. No 
 one would call the President's message an interference ; 
 and yet it is much stronger in that respect than this resolu- 
 tion. If either of them could be construed to be an in- 
 terference, no doubt it would be improper, at least it 
 would be so according to my view of the subject ; for the 
 very thing which I have attempted to resist in the course 
 
62 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 of these observations is the right of foreign interference. 
 But neither the message nor the resolution has that cha- 
 racter. There is not a power in Europe that can suppose 
 that, in expressing our opinions on this occasion, we are 
 governed by any desire of aggrandizing ourselves or of 
 injuring others. We do no more than to maintain those 
 established principles in which we have an interest in com- 
 mon with other nations, and to resist the introduction of 
 new principles and new rules, calculated to destroy the 
 relative independence of states, and particularly hostile to 
 the whole fabric of our Government. 
 
 " I close then, sir, with repeating, that the object of 
 this resolution is to avail ourselves of the interestino; occa- 
 sion of the Greek revolution to make our protest against 
 the doctrines of the Allied Powers, both as they are laid 
 down in principle and as they are applied in practice. 
 
 " I think it right, too, sir, not to be unseasonable in the 
 expression of our regard, and, as far as that goes, in 
 evincing our feelings in consonance with a long oppressed 
 and now struggling people. I am not of those who would, 
 in the hour of utmost peril, withhold such encouragement 
 as might be properly and lawfully given, and, when the 
 crisis should be past, overwhelm the rescued sufferer Avith 
 kindness and caresses. The Greeks address the civilized 
 world with a pathos not easy to be resisted. They invoke 
 our favor by more moving considerations than can well 
 belong to the condition of any other people. They stretch 
 out their arms to the Christian communities of the earth, 
 beseeching them, by a generous recollection of their an- 
 cestors, by the consideration of their own desolated and 
 ruined cities and villages, by their wives and children sold 
 into an accursed slavery, by their own blood, which they 
 seem willing to pour out like water, by the common faith 
 and in the name which unites all Christians, that they 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER, 63 
 
 would extend to them at least some token of compassionate 
 regard." 
 
 Mr. Webster distinguisbed himself by his opposition in 
 Congress to the tariff of 1824, He condemned it on the 
 ground of expediency ; but his resistance and that of the 
 entire Massachusetts delegation was useless ; the bill was 
 passed and assumed the authority of law. 
 
 In the fall of 1824, Mr. Webster was again elected to re- 
 present Boston in the national legislature. His popularity 
 at this time at home may be inferred from the significant 
 and unusual fact that his election may be said to have been 
 almost unanimous. There were five thousand votes polled ; 
 and out of that number Mr, Webster obtained all except 
 ten. During the session which ensued, Mr. Webster was 
 Chairman of the Judiciary Committee; and in that capacity 
 he introduced a resolution on the 3d of March, 1825, which 
 revolutionized the criminal jurisprudence of the United 
 States. The old system, established by the act of April, 
 1790, had been found to be wholly inadequate to the 
 necessities of the case ; and contingencies were continually 
 occurring for which no provision had been made. His bill 
 was intended to provide more effectually for the punish- 
 ment of certain crimes against the United States. After 
 a thorough discussion, it was passed ; and its operation 
 has ever since been found to be most beneficial to the 
 interests of the country. / 
 
 A circumstance worthy of note at this period of Mr. 
 Webster's career was the delivery of his celebrated ora- 
 tion on the laying of the corner-stone of Bunker Hill 
 Monument, — one of the most masterly efforts of eloquence 
 which modern times have produced. The scene on this oc- 
 casion possessed surpassing interest. The day was bright 
 and the sky propitious, A vast multitude assembled at 
 the appointed hour around the speaker's rostrum, and 
 
64 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 covered the memorable mount which had been immortah'zed 
 by the deadly combat of departed patriots with the fell 
 powers of a foreign despot. A large number of the mili- 
 tary mixed with the assemblage ; and among them was 
 seen a small but heroic band of veterans, scarred and 
 shattered by the storms of battle, feeble and emaciated 
 by the lapse of years ; yet bearing on their dauntless brows 
 the impress of indomitable heroism, and feeling the con- 
 scious might of unconquered patriots in their hearts. They 
 Avere the last surviving remains of those who had fought 
 in Revolutionary battles, forty of whom had been present 
 and had engaged in the conflict on Bunker Hill. As they 
 passed along to the inspiriting sound of martial melody to 
 the sceiio of their former glory and triumph, in times long 
 since gone by, tears gushed from the eyes of grateful and 
 admiring myriads, and shouts of applause again and again 
 rent the heavens. Among these crowds Avere seen the 
 bright banners of many societies floating on the breeze ; but 
 nobler and more illustrious than them all were the stars and 
 stripes, which were unfurled to the free winds of heaven 
 and decked the scene at every point. Mr. Webster might 
 well have been inspired by such an occasion and by such 
 a spectacle. He delivered his oration from a stage erected 
 on the northern declivity of the hill ; while the vast 
 assemblage, covering the surrounding eminences and vales 
 as far as the eye could reach, listened to him in rapt at- 
 tention ; and even those who in the distance were unable 
 to hear his voice were deeply impressed with the imposing 
 and solemn grandeur of the scene. 
 
 Mr. Monroe was succeeded as President by John Quincy 
 Adams. In the ballot Mr. Clay had thirty-seven votes, 
 and neither candidate had received the necessary number. 
 Mr. Clay then induced his partisans to give their support 
 to Mr. Adams, by which coalition the latter was elected. 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 65 
 
 Mr. Clay became Secretary of State ; and from this 
 circumstance arose the charge and the suspicion which 
 followed and persecuted the Kentucky Senator even to the 
 grave, that he had sold his influence for the spoils of 
 office. Of this accusation it may safely be asserted that not 
 the slightest evidence for it has ever been produced ; and 
 that the origin and the perpetuation of the slander is due 
 more to the inherent meanness and suspiciousness of his 
 calumniators than to any proof which they have ever been 
 able to adduce in support of the suspicion. 
 
 During the winter of 1826, Mr. Webster was again 
 Chairman of the Judiciary Committee ; and as such he 
 reported a bill for the purpose of reconstructing the 
 Supreme Court of the United States. As originally 
 organized by the act of September, 1789, it had become in- 
 adequate to perform the growing multitude of duties which 
 devolved upon it. In November, 1792, the judges had 
 themselves addressed a communication to the President 
 on the subject. In consequence of this appeal, which was 
 submitted to the consideration of Congress, some change 
 had been made in the amount of their labors. Several 
 changes were subsequently made in the supreme judicature 
 of the country ; all of which gradually became inadequate 
 to the increasing necessities of the case. Mr. Webster's 
 proposition was intended to meet all present and future 
 exigencies. He proposed that the Supreme Court should 
 consist of a chief-justice and nine associate justices ; and 
 that thenceforth there should be regular circuit courts in 
 the several districts of the United States, consisting of a 
 judge of the Supreme Court and a district judge of the 
 district in which the circuit court should be held. The 
 bill finally passed, and became the law of the land, which 
 
 still operates so benignantly for the judicial interests of 
 
 6* 
 
66 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 the United States, and would seem to be incapably of further 
 improvement. 
 
 During 1826 Mr. Webster distinguished himself by the 
 delivery of an oration on the death of John Adams, ex- 
 President of the United States, who expired on the 4th 
 of July in that year at Quincy. It was the fiftieth anni- 
 versary of the Declaration of American Independence. On 
 the same day Mr. Jefferson, the author of the Declaration, 
 paid the same great debt of nature. The coincidence 
 was a most remarkable one; and the oration which he de- 
 livered at Boston on the 2d of August, 1826, will always 
 remain one of the most masterly efforts of modern elo- 
 quence. 
 
 In November, 1826, Mr. Webster was again requested 
 to become a candidate for re-election to the House of 
 Representatives ; but a vacancy occurring at this time in 
 the delegation of Massachusetts in the United States 
 Senate, he was elected to that high post by a large ma- 
 jority of the votes of the Legislature of Massachusetts. He 
 therefore took his seat as a Senator in the twentieth Con- 
 gress, with his fame established, his influence widely ex- 
 tended, and the highest expectations entertained of the 
 position which he would quickly assume among the most 
 gifted' and powerful intellects in the land. 
 
 Nor was this expectation disappointed. His first speech 
 was delivered upon a bill introduced for the purpose of 
 affording relief to the surviving ofiicers of the Revolution. 
 He delivered a very able oration on this occasion, which at 
 once placed him in the first rank among his Senatorial 
 associates. The manner and spirit which pervaded it may 
 be inferred from the following extract : 
 
 " But it is known to be impossible to carry the measure 
 to such an extent as to embrace the militia; and it is plain, 
 too, that the cases are different. The bill, as I have 
 
OF DANIEL AVEESTER. 67 
 
 already said, confines itself to those who served not oc- 
 casionally, not temporarily, but permanently ; who allowed 
 themselves to be counted on as men who were to see the 
 contest through, last as long as it might ; and who have 
 made the phrase ' 'listing during the war' a proverbial ex- 
 pression, signifying unalterable devotion to our cause, 
 through good fortune and ill fortune, till it reached its 
 close. This is a plain distinction ; and although, perhaps, 
 I might wish to do more, I see good ground to stop here 
 for the present, if we must stop anywhere. The militia 
 who fought at Concord, at Lexington and at Bunker Hill 
 have been alluded to, in the course of this debate, in terms 
 of well-deserved praise. Be assured, sir, there could with 
 diflSculty be found a man who drew his sword or carried 
 his musket at Concord, at Lexington, or at Bunker Hill, 
 who would wish you to reject this bill. They might ask 
 you to do more, but never to refrain from doing this. 
 Would to God they were assembled here, and had the fate 
 of the bill in their own hands ! Would to God the question 
 of its passage were to be put to them ! They would affirm 
 it with a unity of acclamation that would rend the roof of 
 the Capitol!" 
 
68 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Webster's Reply to Mr. Hayne — Preliminary Circumstances — Speeches 
 of Mr. Benton — Mr. Hayne's First Speech — His Character and Talents 
 — Mr. Webster's First Speech in Reply — The Second Speech of Mr. 
 Hayne — Its Character — Extract from it — Mr. Webster's Reply — In- 
 tense Interest felt on the Occasion — Mr. Webster's Appearance and 
 Manner — The Audience — Qualities of his Great Speech — Its Prodigious 
 Eifect and Power. 
 
 The career of Mr. Webster in the United States Senate 
 was one of constantly increasing celebrity ; but his fame 
 attained its culmination and its climax by the delivery of 
 his memorable speech in reply to Mr. Hayne of South 
 Carolina, on the 26th of January, 1830. This was the 
 most glorious achievement of this great statesman's career. 
 This oration is the masterpiece of all his performances ; 
 and in this respect it resembles the oration of Demosthenes 
 on the Crown, or Burke's speech against Warren Hastings: 
 it was the highest, the most complete, and the most con- 
 summate performance of his gigantic faculties. It is pro- 
 bably also the ablest effort of oratory which modern times 
 have produced ; and it is therefore proper that we should 
 narrate at some length the circumstances under which it 
 was delivered, and the results which were produced by it. 
 
 Andrew Jackson was elected President of the United 
 States in the fall of 1828 by a vast majority, which 
 clearly indicated the great unpopularity into which John 
 Quincy Adams and his administration bad fallen. Mr. 
 Calhoun was chosen Vice-President at the same time. 
 The first session of the twenty-first Congress opened in 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 69 
 
 December, 1829, Mr. Calhoun presiding in the Senate. 
 The disposal of the public lands at once became a subject 
 of prominent interest to the Federal Representatives ; 
 and on the 29th of December Mr. Foote of Connecticut 
 introduced the following resolution in the Senate : 
 
 " Resolved, That the Committee on Public Lands be in- 
 structed to inquire and report the quantity of public lands 
 remaining unsold within each State and Territory, and 
 whether it be expedient to limit for a certain period the 
 sales of public lands to such lands as have heretofore 
 been offered for sale, and are now subject to entry at the 
 minimum price. And also, whether the office of Sur- 
 veyor-General, and some of the landed offices, may not be 
 abolished without detriment to the public service." 
 
 To this resolution an amendment was subsequently 
 added to the effect, " whether it be expedient to adopt 
 measures to hasten the sales and extend more rapidly the 
 surveys of the public lands." 
 
 During the discussion which ensued upon this resolu- 
 tion, many offensive allusions were made by Southern 
 and Western members, in reference to the policy which 
 had been pursued by other portions of the Confederacy. 
 Several weeks were employed in the discussion. The 
 great difference of principle which seemed to li<e at the 
 foundation of the opposition of sentiment which prevailed 
 was, that one party defended national views of the Con- 
 stitution, and the other maintained the sectional doctrine 
 of State Rights. Mr. Foote, having expounded and de- 
 fended his resolution briefly, was answered by Mr. Benton 
 in a furious tirade against the New England States, charg- 
 ing them with a premeditated design to encroach upon the 
 interests of the West. The subject was then postponed 
 for further consideration till the 13th of January. Mr. 
 Benton again took part in the debate on the 18th, repeat- 
 
70 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 ing his attacks upon New England and her representatives. 
 On the following day Mr. Holmes, of Maine, and several 
 other Northern Senators, replied to the charges of Mr. 
 Benton. These were followed by a speech from Mr. 
 Hayne, of South Carolina, of the same drift and spirit 
 which had been displayed by Mr. Benton. 
 
 Mr. Hayne was then one of the younger members of 
 the Senate, and a man of ability. He was a special 
 favorite of Mr. Calhoun, whose entire system of policy 
 and opinion he had adopted and uniformly defended. 
 His manner of speaking was rapid, declamatory, yet not 
 devoid of brilliancy and force. He was deficient in that 
 weight and impressiveness which alone belong to men of 
 greater calibre ; though, while speaking, few men could ex- 
 ceed him in the hold with which his fluent and graceful 
 declamation retained the attention and thrilled the feel- 
 incrs of an audience. There was also frequently a degree 
 
 to 
 
 of sarcastic bitterness in his remarks which inflammable 
 natures generally display, and which often leads to more 
 serious consequences than are intended or even anticipated. 
 Mr. Hayne's speech on this occasion was one of his best 
 eff'orts. On the next day, January 20th, Mr. Webster 
 made a reply to him, which was chiefly of a dry and 
 argumentative character, but serving as a complete reply 
 to the attack on the New England States which the 
 speech of Mr. Hayne contained. He defended the policy 
 which New England had always pursued in reference to 
 the Western and Southern States. In the course of his 
 argument he used the following language : 
 
 " And here, sir, at the epoch of 1794, let us pause and 
 survey the scene as it actually existed thirty-five years 
 af^o. Let us look back and behold it. Over all that is 
 
 to 
 
 now Ohio there then stretched one vast wilderness, un- 
 broken except by two small spots of civilized culture, the 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 71 
 
 one at Marietta and the other at Cincinnati. At these 
 little openings, hardly each a pin's point upon the map, 
 the^ arm of the frontier-man had levelled the forest and let 
 in the sun. These little patches of earth, themselves 
 almost overshadowed by the boughs of that wilderness 
 which had stood and perpetuated itself, from century to 
 century, ever since the creation, were all that had then 
 been rendered verdant by the hand of man. In an' extent 
 of hundreds and thousands of square miles, no other sur- 
 face of smiling green attested the presence of civilization. 
 The hunter's path crossed mighty rivers, flowing in soli- 
 tary grandeur, whose sources lay in remote and unknown 
 regions of the wilderness. It struck upon the north on a 
 vast inland sea, over which the wintry tempests raged as 
 on the ocean : all around was bare creation. It was fresh, 
 untouched, unbounded, magnificent wilderness. And, sir, 
 what is it now ? Is it imagination only, or can it possibly 
 be fact, that presents such a change as surprises and as- 
 tonishes us, when we turn our eyes to what Ohio now is ? 
 Is it reality, or a dream, that, in so short a period even as 
 thirty-five years, there has sprung up, on the same surface, 
 an independent State with a million of people ? A million 
 of inhabitants ! an amount of population greater than 
 that of all the cantons of Switzerland ; equal to one-third 
 of all the people of the United States when they under- 
 took to accomplish their independence. This new member 
 of the Republic has already left far behind her a majority 
 of the old States. She is now by the side of Virginia 
 and Pennsylvania, and, in point of numbers, will shortly 
 admit no equal but New York herself. If, sir, we may 
 judge of measures by their results, what lessons do these 
 facts read us upon the policy of the Government ? What 
 inferences do they authorize upon the general question of 
 kindness or unkindness?" 
 
72 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 But Mr. Webster's opponents were neither satisfied nor 
 silenced by his manly and able defence of his constituents. 
 Mr. Benton rose as soon as Mr. Webster took his seat, 
 and again assailed New England with his usual severity 
 and acrimony. Mr. Hayne followed Mr. Benton, and 
 then delivered, on the 25th of January, that great speech 
 which called forth in reply the still greater performance 
 of Mr. Webster. It was like the oration of iEschines 
 against the Crown, which elicited the masterly and un- 
 equalled achievement of Demosthenes in answer for the 
 
 Crown. 
 
 The purpose of this most labored oration of Mr. Hayne, 
 in the delivery of which he exhausted his utmost abilities, 
 was to set forth a defence of the peculiar doctrine of South 
 Carolina, which claimed the reserved right for any State 
 to nullify the enactments of the general Government 
 whenever in her opinion they were unconstitutional, — so 
 far as her own territorial limits were concerned. He also 
 euloo-ized the patriotic services of the South in the Revo- 
 lutionary struggle, and detracted from the magnitude and 
 importance of those which had then been rendered by New 
 England. His speech occupied two hours and a half in 
 the delivery, and was regarded as a splendid effort of 
 parliamentary eloquence. The Southern members were 
 in raptures in consequence of it. Mr. Calhoun, the Vice- 
 President, who occupied the Chair of the Senate during 
 its de'livery, was highly gratified, and took no pains to 
 conceal his pleasurable sensations. The representatives 
 from New England seemed to be intimidated and discon- 
 certed by this fierce and bold attack, and to despair of 
 their cause. As this speech of Mr. Hayne is so remark- 
 able in itself, and is so closely connected with the most 
 important incident of Mr. Webster's whole career, we will 
 introduce an extract from it. ■ It will serve to explain 
 
or DANIEL WEBSTER. 73 
 
 more clearly tlie singular power of that vast avalanche 
 of argument and declamation ■which it drew forth from the 
 great champion of New England in reply to it : 
 
 " Sir, the Senator from Massachusetts, on that, the 
 proudest day of his life, like a mighty giant, boi'o away 
 upon his shoulders the pillars of the temple of error and 
 delusion, escaping himself unhurt, and leaving his adversa- 
 ries overwhelmed in its ruins. Then it was that he erected 
 to free trade a beautiful and enduring monument, and 'in- 
 scribed the marble with his name.' Mr. President, it is 
 with pain and regret that I now go forward to the next 
 great era in the political life of that gentleman, when he 
 was found on this floor, supporting, advocating, and finally 
 voting for, the tariif of 1828, — that ' bill of abominations.' 
 By that act, sir, the Senator from Massachusetts has de- 
 stroyed the labors of his whole life, and given a wound to 
 the cause, of free trade never to be healed. Sir, when I 
 recollect the position which that gentleman once occupied, 
 and that which he now holds in public estimation, in rela- 
 tion to this subject, it is not at all surprising that the tariff 
 should be hateful to his ears. Sir, if I had erected to ray 
 own fame so proud a monument as that which the gentle- 
 man built up in 1824, and I could have been tempted to 
 destroy it with my own hands, I should hate the voice that 
 should ring ' the accursed tariff' in my ears. I doubt not, 
 the gentleman feels very much in relation to the tariff as 
 a certain knight did to '■ instinct^' and, with him, would be 
 disposed to exclaim, — 
 
 'All ! no more of that, Ilal, an thou lovest me.' 
 
 " But, Mr. President, to be more serious : what are we 
 of the South to think of what we have heard this day? 
 The Senator from Massachusetts tells us that the tariff is 
 not an Eastern measure, and treats it as if the East had 
 
74 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 no interest in it. The Senator from Missouri insists it is 
 not a Western measure, and that it has done no good to 
 the West. The South comes in, and, in the most earnest 
 manner, represents to you that this measure, which we are 
 told 'is of no value to the East or the West,' is 'utterly 
 destructive of our interests.' We represent to you that it 
 has spread ruin and devastation through the land, and 
 prostrated our hopes in the dust. We solemnly declare 
 that Ave believe the system to be wholly unconstitutional, 
 a^d a violation of the compact between the States and the 
 Union ; and our brethren turn a deaf ear to our com- 
 plaints, and refuse to relieve us from a system ' which not 
 enriches them, but makes us poor indeed.' Good God ! 
 Mr. President, has it come to this? Do gentlemen hold 
 the feelings and wishes of their brethren at so cheap a 
 rate, that they refuse to gratify them at so small a price? 
 Do gentlemen value so lightly the peace and harmony of 
 the country, that they will not yield a measure of this 
 description to the aifectionate entreaties and en n; est 
 remonstrances of their friends? Do gentlemen estiiiuite 
 the value of the Union at so low a price, that they will not 
 even make one eflfort to bind the States together with the 
 cords of affection ? And has it come to this ? Is this the 
 spirit in Avhich this Government is to be administered ? If 
 so, let me tell gentlemen, the seeds of dissolution are 
 already sown, and our children will reap the bitter fruit. 
 
 "The honorable gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. 
 Webster,) while he exonerates me personally from the 
 charge, intimates that there is a party in the country Avho 
 are looking to disunion. Sir, if the gentleman had stopped 
 there, the accusation would have ' passed by me like 
 the idle wind, which I regard not.' But Avhen he goes on 
 to aive to his accusation 'a local habitation and a name,' 
 by quoting the expression of a distinguished citizen of 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 75 
 
 South Carolina, (Dr. Cooper,) ' that it was tune for the 
 South to calculate the value of the Union,' and, in the lan- 
 guage of the bitterest sarcasm, adds, 'Surely then il-.e 
 Union cannot last longer than July, 1831,' it is impossible 
 to mistake either the allusion or the object of the gentle- 
 man. Now, Mr. President, I call upon every one who 
 hears me to bear witness that this controversy is not of my 
 seeking. The Senate will do me the justice to remember 
 that, at the time this unprovoked and uncalled-for attack 
 was made on the South, not one word had been uttered by 
 me in disparagement of New England ; nor had I made 
 the most distant allusion either to the Senator from Mas- 
 sachusetts or the State he represents. But, sir, that gen- 
 tleman has thought proper, for purposes best known to 
 himself, to strike the South, through me, the most unworthy 
 of her servants. He has crossed the border, he has invaded 
 the State of South Carolina, is making war upon her 
 citizens, and endeavoring to overthrow her principles and 
 her institutions. Sir, when the gentlemaa provokes me to 
 such a conflict, I meet him at the threshold ; I will struggle, 
 while I have life, for our altars and our firesides ; and, if 
 God gives me strength, I will drive back the invader dis- 
 comfited. Nor shall I stop there. If the gentleman pro- 
 vokes the war, he shall have war. Sir, I will not stop at 
 the border ; I will carry the war into the enemy's territory, 
 and not consent to lay down my arms until I have obtained 
 'indemnity for the past and security for the future.' It is 
 with unfeigned reluctance, Mr. President, that I enter upon 
 the performance of this part of my duty ; I shrinlc almost 
 instinctively from a course, however necessary, which may 
 have a tendency to excite sectional feelings and sectional 
 jealousies. But, sir, the task has been forced upon me ; 
 and I proceed right onward to the performance of my duty. 
 Be the consequences what they may, the responsibility is 
 
76 THE LIFE \SJ) TIMES 
 
 with those who have imposed upon me this necessity. The 
 Senator from Massachusetts has thought proper to cast the 
 first stone ; and if he shall find, according to a homely 
 adage, ' that he lives in a glass house,' on his head be the 
 consequences. The gentleman has made a great flourish 
 about his fidelity to Massachusetts. I shall make no pro- 
 fessions of zeal for the interests and honor of South Caro- 
 lina : of that my constituents shall judge. If there be 
 one State in the Union, Mr. President, (and I say it not in 
 a boastful spirit,) that may challenge comparison with any 
 otSer, for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and uncalculating 
 devotion to the Union, that State is South Carolina. Sir, 
 from the very commencement of the Revolution up to this 
 hour, til ore is no sacrifice, however great, she has not 
 cheerfully made, no service she has ever hesitated to per- 
 form. She has adhered to you in your prosperity ; but in 
 your adversity she has clung to you with more than filial 
 afection. No matter what was the condition of her 
 domestic affairs, though deprived of her resources, divided 
 by parties, or surrounded with difiiculties, the call of the 
 country has been to her as the voice of God. Domestic 
 discord ceased at the sound ; every man became at once 
 reconciled to his brethren, and the sons of Carolina were 
 all seen crowding together to the temple, bringing their 
 gifts to the altar of their common country. 
 
 "What, sir, was the conduct of the South during the 
 Revolution ? Sir, I honor New England for her conduct 
 in that glorious struggle. But great as is the praise which 
 belongs to her, I think, at least, equal honor is due to the 
 South. They espoused the quarrel of their brethren with 
 a generous zeal, which did not suffer them to stop to cal- 
 culate their interest in the dispute. Favorites of the 
 mother-country, possessed of neither ships nor seamen to 
 create a commercial rivalship, they might have found in 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 77 
 
 tlieir situation a guaranty that their trade would be forever 
 fostered and protected by Great Britain. But, trampling 
 on all considerations either of interest or of safety, they 
 rushed into the conflict, and, fighting for principle, perilled 
 all, in the sacred cause of freedom. Never was there 
 exhibited in the history of the world high(^ examples of 
 noble daring, dreadful suffering, and heroic endurance, 
 than by the Whigs of Carolina during the Revolution. 
 The whole State, from the mountains to the sea, was over- 
 run by an overwhelming force of the enemy. The fruits 
 of industry perished on the spot where they were pro- 
 duced, or were consumed by the foe. The 'plains of 
 Carolina' drank up the most precious blood of her citizens. 
 Black and smoking ruins marked the places which had 
 been the habitations of her children. Driven from their 
 homes into the gloomy and almost impenetrable swamps, 
 even there the spirit of liberty survived, and South Caro- 
 lina (sustained by the example of her Sumpters and her 
 Marions) proved, by her conduct, that though her soil 
 might be overrun, the spirit of her people was invincible. 
 
 "But, sir, our country was soon called upon to engage 
 in another revolutionary struggle, and that too, was a 
 struggle for principle. I mean the political revolution 
 which dates back to '98, and which, if it had not been 
 successfully achieved, would have left us none of the fruits 
 of the Revolution of '7G. The Revolution of 'OS restored 
 the Constitution, rescued the- liberty of the citizen from 
 the grasp of those who were aiming at its life, and, in the 
 emphatic language of Mr. Jefferson, ' saved the Constitu- 
 tion at its last gasp.' And by Avhom was it achieved? 
 By the South, sir, aided only by the Democracy of the 
 North and West. 
 
 " I come now to the war of 1812, — a war which, I well 
 remember, was called in derision (while its event was 
 
78 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 doubtful) the Southern War, and sometimes the Carolina 
 War; but which is now universally acknowledged to have 
 done more for the honor and prosperity of the country 
 than all other events in our history put together. What, 
 sir, were the objects of that war? 'Free trade and 
 sailors' rights 1' It Avas for the protection of Northern 
 shipping and New England seamen that the country flew 
 to arms. What interest had the South in that contest ? 
 If they had sat down coldly to calculate the value of their 
 interests involved in it, they would have found that they 
 had every thing to lose, and nothing to gain. But, sir, 
 with that generous devotion to country so characteristic 
 of the South, they only asked if the rights of any portion 
 of their fellow-citizens had been invaded ; and wlicn told 
 that Northern ships and New England seamen had been 
 arrested on the common highway of nations, they felt that 
 the honor of their country was assailed; and acting on 
 that exalted sentiment ' which feels a stain like a wound,' 
 they resolved to seek, in open war, for a redress of those 
 injuries which it did not become freemen to endure. Sir, 
 the whole South, animated as by a common impulse, cor- 
 dially united in declaring and promoting that war. South 
 Carolina sent to your councils, as the advocates and sup- 
 porters of that war, the noblest of her sons. How they 
 fulfilled that trust let a grateful country tell. Not a mea- 
 sure was adopted, not a battle fought, not a victory won, 
 which contributed in any degree to the success of that 
 war, to which Southern counsels and Southern valor did 
 not largely contribute. Sir, since South Carolina is as- 
 sailed, I must bo suflFered to speak it to her praise, that at 
 the very moment when, in one quarter, we heard it so- 
 lemnly proclaimed, 'that it did not become a religious and 
 moral people to rejoice at the victories of our army or our 
 navy,' her Legislature unanimously 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 79 
 
 " ^Resolved, That we will cordially support the Govern- 
 ment in the vigorous prosecution of the war, until a peace 
 can be obtained on honorable terms, and we will cheerfully 
 submit to every privation that may be required of us, by 
 our Government, for the accomplishment of this object.' 
 
 " South Carolina redeemed that pledge. She threw 
 open her treasury to the Government. She put at the 
 absolute disposal of the officers of the United States all 
 that she possessed, — her men, her money, and her arms. 
 She appropriated half a million of dollars, on her own 
 account, in defence of her maritime frontier, ordered a 
 brigade of State troops to be raised, and, when left to pro- 
 tect herself by her own means, never suffered the enemy 
 to touch her soil, without being instantly driven off or 
 captured. 
 
 " Such, sir, was the conduct of the South — such the con- 
 duct of my own State — in that dark hour ' which tried 
 men's souls.' 
 
 " When I look back and contemplate the spectacle ex- 
 hibited at that time in another quarter of the Union, — 
 when I think of the conduct of certain portions of New 
 England, and remember the part Avhich was acted on that 
 memorable occasion by the political associates of the gen- 
 tleman from Massachusetts, — nay, when I follow that gen- 
 tleman into the councils of the nation, and listen to his 
 voice during the darkest period of the war, — I am indeed 
 astonished that he should venture to touch upon the topics 
 which he has introduced into this debate. South Carolina 
 reproached by Massachusetts ! And from whom does the 
 accusation come? Not from the Democracy of New Eng- 
 land ; for they have been in times past, as they are now, 
 the friends and allies of the South. No, sir : the accusa- 
 tion comes from that party whose acts, during the most 
 trying and eventful period of our national history, were of 
 
80 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 such a character that their own Legishiture, but a few 
 years ago, actually blotted them out from their records, as 
 a stain upon the honor of the country. But how can they 
 ever be blotted out from the recollection of any one Avho 
 had a heart to feel, a mind to comprehend, and a memory 
 to retain, the events of that day? Sir, I shall not attempt 
 to write the history of the party in New England to which 
 I have alluded, — the war-party in peace, and the peace- 
 party in war. That task I shall leave to some future 
 biographer of Nathan Dane ; and I doubt not it will be found 
 quite easy to prove that the peace-party of Massachusetts 
 were the only defenders of their country during their war, 
 and actually achieved all our victories by land and sea. 
 In the mean time, sir, and until that history shall be writ- 
 ten, I propose, with the feeble and glimmering lights which 
 I possess, to review the conduct of this party, in connec- 
 tion with the war and the events which immediately pre- 
 ceded it. 
 
 " It will be recollected, sir, that our great causes of 
 quarrel with Great Britain were her depredations on 
 Northern commerce, and the impressment of New England 
 seamen. From every quarter we were called upon for 
 protection. Importunate as the West is now represented 
 to be on another subject, the importunity of the East on 
 that occasion was far greater. I hold in my hands the 
 evidence of the fact. Here are petitions, memorials, and 
 remonstrances from all parts of New England, setting forth 
 the injustice, the oppressions, the depredations, the insults, 
 the outrages, committed by Great Britain against the un- 
 offending commerce and seamen of New England, and 
 calling upon Congress for redress. Sir, I cannot stop to 
 read these memorials. In that from Boston, after stating 
 the alarming and extensive condemnation of our vessels by 
 Great Britain, which threatened ' to sweep bur commerce 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 81 
 
 from the face of the ocean,' and 'to involve our merchants 
 in bankruptcy,' they call upon the Government 'to assert 
 our riglits, and to adopt such measures as "will support the 
 dignity and honor of the United States.' 
 
 "From Salem we heard a language still more decisive : 
 they call explicitly for ' an appeal to arms,' and pledge 
 their lives and property in support of any measures which 
 Congress might adopt. From Newburyport an appeal 
 was made ' to the firmness and justice of the Government 
 to obtain compensation and protection.' It Avas here, I 
 think, that, when the war was declared, it was resolved 'to 
 resist our own Government even unto blood.' (Olive- 
 Branch, p. 101.) 
 
 " In other quarters the common language of that day 
 Avas, that our commerce and our seamen were entitled to 
 protection, and that it was the duty of the Government 
 to afford it at every hazard. The conduct of Great 
 Britain, we were then told, was 'an outrage upon our 
 national independence.' These clamors, which commenced 
 as early as January, 1806, were continued up to 1812. 
 In a message from the Governor of one of the New Eng- 
 land States, as late as the 10th October, 1811, this lan- 
 guage is held : ' A manly and decisive course has become 
 indispensable ; a course to satisfy foreign nations that, 
 while we desire peace, we have the means and the spirit 
 to repel aggression. We are false to ourselves when our 
 commerce, or our territory, is invaded with impunity.' 
 
 "About this time, however, a remarkable change was 
 observable in the tone and temper of those who had been 
 endeavoring to force the country into a war. The lan- 
 guage of complaint was changed into that of insult, and 
 calls for protection converted into reproaches. ' Smoke ! 
 smoke !' says one writer : ' my life on it, our executive 
 have no more idea of declaring war than my grandmother.' 
 
82 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 'The committee of ways and means,' says another, 'have 
 come out with their Pandora's box of taxes ; and yet 
 nobody dreams of war.' ' Congress do not mean to de- 
 cLare war : they dare not.' But why multiply examples ? 
 An honorable member of the other house, from the city 
 of Boston, [Mr. Quincy,] in a speech delivered on the 3d 
 of April, 1812, says, 'Neither promises, nor threats, nor 
 asseverations, nor oaths, will make me believe that you 
 will go to war. The navigation States are sacrificed, and 
 the spirit and character of the country prostrated by fear 
 and avarice.' 'You cannot,' said the same gentleman, on 
 another occasion, 'be kicked into a war.' 
 
 " Well, sir, the war at length came ; and what did we 
 behold ? The very men who had been for six years 
 clamorous for war, and for whose protection it was waged, 
 became at once equally clamorous against it. They had 
 received a miraculous visitation ; a new light suddenly 
 beamed upon their minds ; the scales fell from their eyes, 
 and it was discovered that the war was declared from 
 'subserviency to France;' and that Congress, and the 
 executive, ' had sold themselves to Napoleon ;' that Great 
 Britain had, in fact, ' done us no essential injury ;' that 
 she was 'the bulwark of our religion;* that where 'she 
 took one of our ships she protected twenty;' and that, if 
 Great Britain had impressed a few of our seamen, it Avas 
 because ' she could not distinguish them from her own.' 
 And so far did this spirit extend, that a committee of the 
 Massachusetts Legislature actually' fell to calculation, and 
 discovered, to their infinite satisfaction, but to the astonish- 
 ment of all the world besides, that only eleven Massachu- 
 setts sailors had ever been impressed. Never shall I 
 forget the appeals that had been made to the sympathies 
 of the South in behalf of the ' thousands of impressed 
 Americans' who had been torn from their families and 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 83 
 
 friends, and 'immured in the floating dungeons of Britain.' 
 The most touching pictures were drawn of the hard con- 
 dition of the American sailor, ' treated hke a shive,' 
 forced to fight the battles of his enemy, ' lashed to the 
 mast, to be shot at like a dog.' But, sir, the very moment 
 we had taken up arms in their defence, it was discovered 
 that all these were mere ' fictions of the brain,' and that 
 the whole number in the State of Massachusetts was but 
 eleven ; and that even these had been ' taken by mistake.' 
 Wonderful discovery ! The Secretary of State had col- 
 lected authentic lists of no less than six thousand im- 
 pressed Americans. Lord Castlereagh himself acknow- 
 ledged sixteen hundred. Calculations on the basis of the 
 number found on board of the Guerriere, the Macedonian, 
 the Java, and other British ships, (captured by the skill 
 and gallantry of those heroes whose achievements are the 
 treasured monuments of their country's glory,) fixed the 
 number at seven thousand ; and yet, it seems, Massachu- 
 setts had lost but eleven ! Eleven Massachusetts sailors 
 taken by mistake ! A cause of war, indeed ! Their ships, 
 too, the capture of which had threatened ' universal bank- 
 ruptcy,' — it was discovered that Great Britain was their 
 friend and protector : ' where she had taken one she had 
 protected twenty.' Then was the discovery made that 
 subserviency to France, a hostility to commerce, ' a de- 
 termination, on the part of the South and West, to break 
 down the Eastern States,' and especially (as reported by a 
 committee of the Massachusetts Legislature) ' to force the 
 sons of commerce to populate the wilderness,' were the 
 true causes of the war. (Olive-Branch, pp. 134, 291.) But 
 let us look a little further into the conduct of the peace- 
 party of New England at that important crisis. Whatever 
 difference of opinion might have existed as to the causes 
 of the war, the country had a right to expect that, when 
 
84 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 once involved in the contest, all America would have 
 cordially united in its support. Sir, the war effected, in 
 its progress, a union of all parties at the South. But not 
 so in New England : there great efforts were made to stir 
 up the minds of the people to oppose it. Nothing was 
 left undone to embarrass the financial operations of the 
 Government, to prevent the enlistment of troops, to keep 
 back the men and money of New England from the ser- 
 vice of the Union, to force the President from his seat. 
 Yes, sir, ' the island of Elba, or a halter !' were the 
 alternatives they presented to the excellent and venerable 
 James Madison. Sir, the war was further opposed by 
 carrying on illicit trade with the enemy, by permitting 
 that enemy to establish herself on the very soil of Massa- 
 chusetts, and by opening a free trade between Great 
 Britain and America, with a separate custom-house." 
 
 To this speech of Mr. Hayne, Mr. Webster rose to 
 reply in the Senate, on Tuesday, January •26th 1830. 
 The expectation of the public had been elevated to the 
 highest possible pitch. Some of the friends of Mr. Hayne 
 were enthusiastic in their hopes ; others were more wisely 
 desponding. Mr. Iredell, one of these, a Senator from 
 South Carolina, remarked, speaking of Mr. Ilayne, "He 
 has started the lion ; but wait till we hear him roar and 
 feel his claws." Mr. "Webster's friends were hopeful and 
 confident of the issue ; and he himself exhibited that 
 calm and serene manner Avhich he generally displayed, 
 that mens cequa in arduis which uniformly characterizes 
 true greatness. He was heard by a friend to laugh to 
 himself after returning home at the conclusion of Mr. 
 Hayne's speech ; and being asked the subject of his mirth, 
 be replied that he was then thinking of the admirable way 
 in which Colonel Hayne's quotation about Banquo's ghost 
 could be turned against himself. On the morning of the 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 85 
 
 next day the House of Representatives was deserted. 
 Nearly all the members hastened to the Senate-chamber as 
 spectators of the imposing scene which was anticipated. 
 Every portion of the apartment was densely packed at 
 an early hour. The elite of metropolitan fashion, the 
 chief heads of the nation, all that was mosti illustrious 
 in arts, arms and beauty in the Federal capital, had 
 crowded into that chamber, and served by their personal 
 appearance, by the splendor of their dresses and uniforms, 
 and by their immense numbers, to increase the grandeur 
 of that imposing presence. There were the representa- 
 tives of many different States, some from the farthest 
 limits of this vast continent,— from Maine, from Californi;i, 
 and from Texas ;, together with strangers and diplomatic 
 agents from remote quarters of the globe, assembled to 
 hear the greatest effort of the ablest master of debate in 
 modern times. The place itself was illustrious and solemn ; 
 for it was the central spot of the whole earth for high 
 and grave discussion in reference to human freedom ; 
 and it had been hallowed by the labors and the elo- 
 quence of the fathers and heroes of the Eepublic. The 
 occasion was momentous and thrilling ; for it was one on 
 which the Southern portion of the Confederacy had at- 
 tacked the Northern by her favorite champion ; and when 
 the latter was to stand forth to defend herself in the per- 
 son of her most gifted son. A vast crowd, who could not 
 possibly gain admittance to the closely-crowded interior 
 of the Senate-chamber, filled all the surrounding halls, 
 avenues, and passages where the orator's voice could 
 be heard. 
 
 At length Mr. Webster succeeded in reaching his seat ; 
 and the order of business having been announced, he rose 
 to speak. His appearance at that time was very remark- 
 able. He was then in the prime and fulness of his ma- 
 
86 THE LIFE A^'D TIMES 
 
 jestic manhood. A noblei* specimen of a man, both intel- 
 lectually and physically, never existed on this earth. His 
 person was tall and well proportioned. His features were 
 large and expressive. His hair, black as the raven's wing, 
 lay around his massive and dome-like forehead in ample 
 folds. His dark and deeply-set eyes seemed to be kindled 
 by the glowing ardor of thought, and glittered beneath 
 his heavy brows like two fiery orbs gleaming at night 
 from the darkness of a sepulchre. He wore a blue coat, 
 a buff vest, and a Avhite cravat, — the lingering remains of 
 the antique taste which prevailed in the Revolutionary era. 
 He arose calmly, yet with evident confidence, and com- 
 menced his oration by a pleasing allusion to a mariner, 
 tossed upon the angry and turbulent waves, who desires to 
 be assured of his reckoning ; and he therefore, being simi- 
 larly situated, called for the reading of the resolution which 
 was then under discussion. The resolution being read, the 
 orator addressed himself to the task before him, and com- 
 menced that wondrous burst of eloquence — argumentative, 
 indignant, combative, and patriotic — which has become 
 memorable in the history of American legislation. He 
 examined and confuted every position advanced by Mr. 
 Hayne. He crushed every bone in his forensic body. 
 He wrested every weapon from his hand, and then broke 
 them over his opponent's shoulders. As may readily be 
 supposed, the whole audience were amazed, entranced, 
 and delighted by the power of the orator. The silence of 
 the grave pervaded the chamber and its vicinity, interrupted 
 only by the solemn roll and the sonorous swell of his voice, 
 as it resounded in deep yet melodious cadence, like waves 
 upon the shore of the sea, throughout the Capitol. The 
 audience gradually exhibited intense emotion. A small 
 group of Massachusetts men, who were gathered in one 
 corner of a gallery, overawed by the triumphant majesty 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 87 
 
 of the scene, burst into unbidden tears when their com- 
 monwealth's orator paid his just tribute of praise to their 
 native State. The Southern Senators scowled with black 
 and yet futile defiance, when their sectional views were 
 receiving such a castigation as they never before or since 
 experienced. While he lashed Mr. Hayne personally for 
 his dangerous principles and his factious tendencies, while 
 he spoke derisively of Banquo's ghost and of other offen- 
 sive topics, no human face ever wore so withering and 
 relentless an expression of scorn ; when he referred to 
 the glorious Union of the States, bright gleams of joy 
 and pride illumined his features ; and a halo of intellectual 
 glory seemed to surround his whole person while he dwelt 
 upon the history, the services, and the patriotism of old 
 Massachusetts. During a portion of the time employed 
 in the delivery of the speech, Mr. Hayne was prancing to 
 and fro, like a chafed and chastised tiger, in the rear of 
 his seat; in vain endeavoring to evade the destructive 
 shafts aimed at him by this modern Apollo, — in this case 
 verily the "god of the unerring bow." 
 
 At length, after speaking more than three hours, Mr. 
 Webster concluded with one of his most famous and 
 effective perorations. The majestic and musical tones of 
 the orator seemed to vibrate in the ears of the audience 
 even after he sat down; and they appeared to be in a 
 trance. The feeling which prevailed was too intense and 
 profound for expression. The stillness of the grave 
 ensued after the speech was ended ; not a movement was 
 made, or a sound uttered, by the vast assembly. No more 
 touching tribute could have been rendered in such a place 
 to the masterly power of the orator, The silence at length 
 became painful ; and the hostile president of the Senate, 
 Mr. Calhoun, broke the spell by calling loudly for " Order ! 
 order!" when not the slightest disorder had been heard! 
 
88 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Dc:itli of Mrs. Webster — Mr. Webster's Second Marriage — The Celebrated 
 Case of John Francis Knapp — Circumstances of the Case — Revelations 
 of Hatch — Of Palmer — Crowninshield arrested — The Two Knapps — 
 Confession of Joseph Knapp — Trial of Francis and Joseph Knapp — 
 The Result — Mr. Choate's Narrative — Mr. Webster's Ability as a 
 Criminal Lawyer — The Variety of his Talents. 
 
 In the year 1827 Mr. Webster endured a severe domestic 
 afHiction in the death of his wife. This event occurred at 
 New York, while she and her husband were on their way 
 to Washington. It was the heaviest blow which he ever 
 received ; for the attachment which existed between them 
 was of the most tender nature. From his youth he had 
 loved the fair and amiable Grace Fletcher with all the in- 
 tensity of his nature. She had watched his rising fame 
 with pride and joy. She had been one of the most 
 devoted and affectionate of M'omen ; and her loss was to 
 him irreparable. It may truly be said that, after her 
 death, the moral and social tendencies of Mr. Webster 
 underwent a change which probably never would have 
 occurred had she continued to live.* 
 
 In August, 1830, Mr. Webster delivered his famous 
 argument in the trial of John Francis Knapp for the 
 murder of Joseph White, of Salem. This was his master- 
 piece in the department of criminal law; and the case was 
 one of intense interest. Joseph White, a Avealthy mer- 
 
 * In 1830 Mr. Webster married Miss Caroline Le Roy, daughter of 
 Herman Le Roy, of the city of New York, who survived him. 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 89 
 
 cliant of Salem, was found murdered in his bed on the 7th 
 of April, 1830. He was eighty-two years of age. His 
 servant was the first to discover the deed and to proclaim 
 it to the astonished citizens. Thirteen stabs were found 
 upon the body, made by a sharp dagger ; and a heavy 
 blow had been given upon the left temple, by which the 
 skull was fractured. No valuables had been stolen from 
 the house, though gold coin and silver plate were in the 
 apartment of the deceased. The murder was perpetrated 
 at night, by an unknown assassin, in one of the most 
 densely-crowded portions of Salem. 
 
 Never had a more profound and terrible mystery occurred 
 in the annals of crime than was presented by the circum- 
 stances of this case. Not the slightest indication could be 
 detected, for several weeks, which threw any light upon the 
 horrid enigma. At length the public learned that a person 
 who was then in prison at New Bedford, seventy miles from 
 Salem, had asserted that he could make important revela- 
 tions in reference to it. His name was Hatch ; and he 
 eventually deposed that the real murderer of Mr. White 
 was a former associate of his at Salem, named Richard 
 Crowninshield, Jr., a young man of bad reputation, bold, 
 adroit, unprincipled, and capable of the most heinous 
 crimes. Another witness afterward came forward, named 
 Palmer, a resident of Belfast in Maine, who acknowledged 
 that he had been acquainted with Crowninshield, and had 
 learned from him his intention to assassinate Mr. White, 
 as well as the connection of Crowninshield with Joseph J. 
 Knapp, Jr., and John Francis Knapp, near relatives of 
 the deceased, who hoped, by first destroying the will of 
 Mr. White and then his life, to become heirs at law of his 
 immense estate. The two Knapps, thus implicated by two 
 witnesses in this awful crime, were young shipmasters in 
 Salem, who had hitherto borne excellent characters. They 
 
 8* 
 
90 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 were immediately arrested. J. J. Knapp, Jr. made a full 
 confession, on the third day of his imprisonment, to the 
 effect that he had projected the murder ; that he had com- 
 municated his project to his brother, John Francis; that 
 Francis had agreed to employ an assassin ; that Francis 
 had subsequently engaged Crowninshield to murder Mr. 
 White, for which he was to receive a thousand dollars ; that 
 Joseph Knapp had promised to unbar a window at night 
 in the abode of their victim, and thus facilitate the opera- 
 tions of the assassin ; that he had actually abstracted Mr. 
 White's will, and opened the shutters of a window in their 
 victim's house, as agreed upon ; and that Crowninshield 
 had finally entered the mansion, proceeded to Mr. White's 
 chamber, and had murdered him while asleep by a heavy 
 blow upon the head and thirteen stabs upon the body. 
 
 Crowninshield Avas not aware of the revelations which 
 had been made by Joseph Knapp, and maintained a stoical 
 indifference of manner, which seemed to indicate his inno- 
 cence ; but as soon as he heard of Knapp's arrest his 
 behaviour changed, and indicated the" utmost anxiety. The 
 subsequent incidents connected with this memorable case 
 can be best narrated by an eye-witness of the thrilling 
 scenes connected with it : 
 
 "Palmer was brought to Salem in irons on the 3d of 
 June, and committed to prison. Crowninshield saw him 
 taken from the carriage, lie was put in the cell directly 
 under that in Avhich Crowninshield was kept. Several 
 members of the committee entered Palmer's cell to talk 
 with him : while they were talking, they heard a loud 
 whistle, and, on looking up, saw that Crowninshield had 
 picked away the mortar from the crevice between the 
 blocks of the granite floor of his cell. After the loud 
 whistle, he cried out, ' Palmer ! Palmer !' and soon let 
 down a string, to which were tied a pencil and a slip of 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 91 
 
 paper. Two lines of poetry were written on the paper, 
 in order that, if Pahner was really there, he would make 
 it known by capping the verses. Palmer shrunk away 
 into a corner, and was soon transferred to another cell. 
 He seemed to stand in awe of Crowninshield. 
 
 " On the 12th of June, a quantity of stolen goods was 
 found concealed in the barn of Crowninshield, in conse- 
 quence of information from Palmer. 
 
 " Crowninshield, thus finding the proofs of his guilt and 
 depravity thicken, on the 15th of June committed suicide 
 by hanging himself to the bars of his cell with a handker- 
 chief. He left letters to his father and brother, express- 
 ing in general terms the viciousness of his life and the 
 hopelessness of escape from punishment. When his asso- 
 ciates in guilt heard his fate, they said it was not unex- 
 pected by them, for they had often heard him say he would 
 never live to submit to an ignominious punishment. 
 
 " A special term of the Supreme Court was held at 
 Salem on the 20th of July, for the trial of the prisoners 
 charged with the murder : it continued in session till the 
 20th of August, with a few days' intermission. An indict- 
 ment for the murder was found against John Francis Knapp, 
 as principal, and Joseph J. Knapp, Jr., and George Crownin- 
 shield, as accessories. Selman and Chase were discharged 
 by the attorney-general. 
 
 " The principal, John Francis Knapp, was first put on 
 trial. As the law then stood, an accessory in a murder 
 could not be tried until a principal had been con^ icted. 
 He was defended by Messrs. Franklin Dexter and William 
 H. Gardiner, advocates of high reputation for ability and 
 eloquence. The trial was long and arduous, and the wit- 
 nesses numerous. His brother Joseph, who had made a 
 fall confession, on the Government's promise of impunity 
 if he would in good faith testify the truth, was brought 
 
92 . THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 into court, called to the stand as a witness, but declined to 
 testify. To convict the prisoner, it was necessary for the 
 Government to prove that he Vt' as present, actually or con- 
 structively, as an aider or abettor in the murder. The 
 evidence was strong that there was a conspiracy to commit 
 the murder, that the prisoner was one of the conspirators, 
 that at the time of the murder he was in Brown Street at 
 the rear of Mr. White's garden, and the jury were satisfied 
 that he was in that place to aid and abet in the murder, 
 ready to afford assistance if necessary. He was con- 
 victed. 
 
 "Joseph J. Knapp, Jr., was afterward tried as an ac- 
 cessory before the fact, and convicted. 
 
 " George Crowninshield proved an alibi, and was dis- 
 charged. 
 
 " The execution of John Francis Knapp and Joseph J. 
 Knapp, Jr., closed the tragedy. 
 
 " If Joseph, after turning state's evidence, had not 
 changed his mind, neither he nor his brother, nor any of 
 the conspirators, could have been convicted ; if he had 
 testified, and disclosed the whole truth, it would have ap- 
 peared that John Francis Knapp was in Brown Street, not 
 to render assistance to the assassin ; but that Crownin- 
 shield, when he started to commit the murder, requested 
 Frank to go home and go to bed ; that Frank did go home, 
 retired to bed, soon after arose, secretly left his father's 
 house, and hastened to Brown Street, to await the coming 
 out of the assassin, in order to learn whether the deed was 
 accomplished, and all the particulars. If Frank had not 
 been convicted as principal, none of the accessories could 
 by law have been convicted. Joseph would not have been 
 even tried ; for the Government stipulated that if he would 
 be a witness for the State he should go clear. 
 
 " The whole history of this occurrence is of romantic 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 93 
 
 interest. The murder itself, the corpus clelieti, was 
 strange, — planned with deliberation and sagacity, and exe- 
 cuted with firmness and vigor. While conjecture was 
 baffled in ascertaining either the motive or the perpetrator, 
 it was certain that the assassin had acted upon design, and 
 not at random. He must have had knowledge of the 
 house ; for the window had been unfastened from within. 
 He had entered stealthily, threaded his way in silence 
 through the apartments, corridors and staircases, and 
 coolly given the mortal blow. To make assurance doubly 
 sure, he inflicted many fatal stabs, ' the least a death to 
 nature,' and stayed not his hand till he had deliberately 
 felt the pulse of his victim, to make certain that life was 
 extinct. 
 
 " It was strange that Crowninshield, the real assassin, 
 should have been indicted and arrested on the testimony 
 of Hatch, who was himself in prison, in a distant part of 
 the State, at the time of the murder, and had no actual 
 knowledge on the subject. 
 
 " It was very strange that J. J. Knapp, Jr., should have 
 been the instrument of bringing to light the mystery of 
 the whole murderous conspiracy ; for when he received 
 from the hand of his father the threatening letter of 
 Palmer, consciousness of guilt so confounded his faculties, 
 that, instead of destroying it, he stupidly handed it back, 
 and requested his father to deliver it to the committee of 
 vigilance. 
 
 " It was strange that the murder should have been com- 
 mitted on a mistake in law. Joseph, some time previous 
 to the murder, had made inquiry how Mr. White's estate 
 would be distributed in case he died without a will, and 
 had been erroneously told that Mrs. Beckford, his mothci-- 
 in-law, the sole issue and representative of a deceased 
 sister of Mr. White, would inherit half of the estate, and 
 
04 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 that the four children and representatives of a deceased 
 brother of Mr. "White, of whom the Hon. Stephen White 
 Avas one, would inherit the other half. Joseph had 
 privately read the will, and knew that Mr. White had 
 bequeathed to Mrs. Beckford much less than half. 
 
 " It was strange that the murder should have been com- 
 mitted on a mistake in fact also. Joseph furtively ab- 
 stracted a will, and expected Mr. White would die intes- 
 tate ; but after the decease, the will, the last will, was 
 found by his heirs in its proper place ; and it could never 
 have been known or conjectured, without the aid of Joseph's 
 confession, that he had made either of those blunders. 
 
 " Finally, it was a strange fact that Knapp should, on 
 the night following the murder, have watched with the 
 mangled corpse, and at the funeral followed the hearse as 
 one of the chief mourners, without betraying on either 
 occasion the slightest emotion which could awaken a sus- 
 picion of his guilt." 
 
 Mr. Webster was employed to prosecute the defendant, 
 Knapp, by the relatives of the deceased. Among the 
 audience was the Hon. Rufus Choate, himself second only 
 to Mr. Webster among the great advocates of New Eng- 
 land, and after his death the facile princeps of a body of 
 able men who justly esteem him as the most eminent of 
 their number. He has described Mr. Webster's achieve- 
 ment on this occasion in the following graphic language, 
 after referring to other instances of his legal ability : 
 
 " One such I stood in a relation to witness with a com- 
 paratively easy curiosity, and yet with intimate and pro- 
 fessional knowledjre of all the embarrassments of the 
 case. It was the trial of John Francis Knapp, charged 
 with being present, aiding, and abetting in the murder of 
 Joseph White, in which Mr. Webster conducted the pro- 
 secution for the commonwealth ; in the same year with his 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 95 
 
 reply to Mr. Hayne in the Senate, and a few months 
 later, and when I bring to mind the incidents of that 
 trial : the necessity of proving that the prisoner was near 
 enough to the chamber in which the murder was beinsr 
 committed by another hand to aid in the act, and was 
 there with the intention to do so, and thus in point of law 
 did aid in it, — because mere accessorial guilt was not 
 enough to convict him ; the difficulty of proving this — 
 because the nearest point to which the evidence could 
 trace him was still so distant as to warrant a pretty 
 formidable doubt whether mere curiosity had not carried 
 him thither ; and whether he could in any useful or even 
 conceivable manner have co-operated with the actual 
 murderer, if he had intended to do so ; and because the 
 only mode of rendering it probable that he was there with 
 a purpose of "guilt was by showing that he was one of the 
 parties to a conspiracy of murder, whose very existence, 
 actors and objects had to be made out by the collation 
 of the widest possible range of circumstances — some of 
 them pretty loose — and even if he was a conspirator, it 
 did not quite necessarily follow that any active participa- 
 tion was assigned to him for his part, any more than to 
 his brother, who, confessedly, took no such part — the 
 great number of witnesses to be examined and cross-exa- 
 mined, a duty devolving wholly on him ; the quick and 
 sound judgment demanded and supplied to determine 
 what to use and what to reject of a mass of rather ftn- 
 manageable materials ; the points in the law of evidence 
 to be argued, — in the course of which he made an appeal 
 to the bench on the complete impunity which the rejection 
 of the prisoner's confession would give to the murder in 
 a style of dignity and energy, I should rather say of 
 grandeur, which I never heard him equal, before or after ; 
 the high ability and fidelity with which every part of the 
 
96 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 defence was conducted; and the great final summing up, 
 to -which he brought, and in which he needed, the utmost 
 exertion of every faculty he possessed, to persuade the 
 jury that the obligation of that duty, the sense of which, 
 he said, ' pursued us ever : it is omnipresent like the 
 Deity : if we take the wings of the morning and dwell in 
 the uttermost parts of the sea, duty performed, or duty 
 violated, is still with us for our happiness or misery' — to 
 persuade them that this obligation demanded that on his 
 proofs they should convict the prisoner ; to which he 
 brought first the profound belief of his guilt, without 
 which he could not have prosecuted him ; then skill con- 
 summate in inspiring them with a desire or a willingness 
 to be instrumental in detecting that guilt, and to lean on 
 him in the eifort to detect it ; then every resource of pro- 
 fessional ability to break the force of the propositions of 
 the defence, and to establish the truth of his own : infer- 
 ring a conspiracy to which the prisoner was a party, from 
 circumstances acutely ridiculed, by the able counsel oppos- 
 ing him, as 'stufi",' but woven by him into strong and 
 uniform tissue ; and then bridging over from the con- 
 spiracy to the not very necessary inference that the par- 
 ticular conspirator on trial was at his post, in execution of 
 it, to aid and abet — the picture of the murder Avith which 
 he had begun — not for rhetorical display, but to inspire 
 solemnity, and horror, and a desire to detect and punish 
 for justice and for security ; the sublime exhortation to 
 duty with which he closed — resting on the universality 
 and authoritativeness and eternity of its obligation — 
 which left in every juror's mind the impression that it 
 was the duty of convicting in this particular case, the 
 sense of which would be with him in the hour of death, 
 and in the judgment, and forever — with these recollections 
 of that trial, I cannot help thinking it a more difficult and 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 97 
 
 higher effort of mind than that more famous oration for 
 the Crown." 
 
 From Mr. Webster's forensic ability, as exhibited in 
 this remarkable trial, the reader may form some adequate 
 conception of the variety and diversity of his talents. 
 It mattered not whether it were in the Senate-chamber, 
 among the leading statesmen of a great nation, or in the 
 popular assembly, where a stormy multitude were to be 
 addressed by moving and declamatory appeals, or in the 
 courts of civil justice, where recondite learning and dry, 
 profound, abstract principles were to be discussed before 
 calm and deliberate judges, or in the criminal tribunal, 
 where a thorough knowledge of human nature, skilful 
 management and consummate oratory were required in 
 order to secure success ;— in all these varied and almost 
 incompatible arenas of intellectual power, Mr. Webster 
 appeared uniformly as the most gifted of men, the most 
 gigantic in his mental proportions, and the most triumph- 
 ant in his exercise and display of them. 
 
98 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Accession of General Jackson to the Presidency — Mr. Van Buren Re- 
 jected as Minister to England — Mr. Webster supports tlie Renewal of 
 the Charter of the U.S. Bank — Removal of the Deposits — Disastrous 
 Consequences — Mr. Webster's Speeches on the Subject — Nullification 
 in South Carolina — Mr. Webster's Celebrated Speech thereon — The Ac- 
 tion of the President and of Congress — Accession of Van Buren to the 
 Presidency — The Sub-Treasury Scheme — Mr. Webster's Opposition to 
 it — Abolition of Slavery in the District of Columbia. 
 
 The election of Andrew Jackson to the Presidency in 
 1828 opened a more turbulent era in the history of the 
 politics and government of the country. Upon the pe- 
 culiar qualities of the inflexible hero of New Orleans it is 
 not necessary for us here to dwell. Even Mr. Calhoun, 
 who had been conciliated by the important oflace of Vice- 
 President, soon found the yoke of the Presidential tyrant 
 too heavy, and became restive under it. At the com- 
 mencement of his administration. General Jackson en- 
 deavored also to conciliate Mr. "Webster, being well aware 
 of the vast power which he possessed as the ablest member 
 of the Senate ; and he treated him with the most marked 
 and significant courtesy. But Mr. Webster was not to 
 be bought by the utmost blandishments of those who 
 might be in the possession of power ; and accordingly, 
 when Mr. Van Buren, the special favorite of the Pre- 
 sident, was by him appointed Minister to England, Mr. 
 Webster opposed his confirmation in the most emphatic 
 and energetic terms. The wrath of the incensed Pre- 
 sident was poured out upon the head of the offending 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 99 
 
 statesman in overwhelming torrents, but it availed not. 
 Mr. Webster's reasons for the policy which he pursued 
 "were quite satisfactory ; the chief of which was, that Mr. 
 Van Buren, Avhen Secretary of State, had instructed Mr. 
 McClean, his predecessor, to make a distinction between 
 his country and his party ; to give the latter the pre- 
 eminence in his relations with foreign powers ; to convince 
 the English Government that their own interests required 
 that they should aid in maintaining the ascendency of that 
 party ; and thus to make ignoble and despicable conces- 
 sions to Great Britain. These reasons for opposing the 
 confirmation of Mr. Van Buren Mr. Webster openly and 
 fearlessly avowed in the Senate. Even Mr. Calhoun co- 
 incided with him; and the supple nominee of the President 
 was successfully resisted, and eventually recalled. 
 
 In May, 1832, Mr. Webster made an important speech 
 in the Senate in favor of the bill which had been intro- 
 duced by Mr. Dallas for the renewal of the charter of the 
 United States Bank ; and he stated clearly and con- 
 clusively the reasons why he supported an institution in 
 this case which he had formei'ly so bitterly opposed. It 
 was because the principles upon which the two institutions 
 were to be founded were totally different and antagonistic. 
 The bank which he defended Jackson and Calhoun had 
 themselves formerly opposed ; and the reason for their 
 change of policy was the same, — a fundamental difference 
 in the nature of the several institutions. The charter of 
 the bank was renewed in spite of the veto of the Pre- 
 sident ; and its operation was found to be in the highest 
 degree beneficial. But the foiled Executive had in reserve 
 an expedient by which he still determined to crush " the 
 monster," and thus indirectly attain the result in which 
 he had been ignominiously defeated. This expedient was 
 the removal of the deposits of the moneys of the Govern- 
 
100 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 ment from the vaults of the general bank and their dis- 
 tribution amono; certain favorite State banks. The charter 
 of the bank itself provided that the public moneys should 
 be deposited therein, subject to removal by the Secretary 
 of the Treasury, on grounds which wete to be submitted 
 to Congress. In 1832, Congress had adopted a resolution 
 to the effect that, in their judgment, the deposits were 
 secure while in the custody of the bank. But this recom- 
 mendation availed nothing with the President ; and he 
 proceeded to execute his purpose. The Secretary of the 
 Treasury then in office, Mr. McClean, declined to make 
 the order necessary for the legal transfer. He was at once 
 removed, and Mr. Duane, of Philadelphia, was appointed 
 to fill his place and perform his functions. That enlight- 
 ened statesman readily perceived the appalling conse- 
 quences which would ensue from the execution of the 
 measure, and declined to accede to the demand of the 
 President. He was also unceremoniously dismissed, and 
 Mr. Taney, subsequently the Chief- Justice of the United 
 States, became his substitute. This gentleman had no 
 scruples in reference to the measure. The deposits of the 
 Government funds were then witlidrawn from the capacious 
 maw of the monster. Immediately those terrible results 
 ensued which every intelligent and impartial observer had 
 anticipated. So vast and sudden a demand being made 
 upon the bank, it was compelled to collect all its claims and 
 resources from the smaller banks throughout the country 
 with equal precipitancy ; the latter were constrained to 
 be equally peremptory and stringent with their nume- 
 rous customers and debtors ; and thus the fatal blow was 
 felt throughout every rank and class in the nation ; for 
 it was impossible to meet so many requisitions upon so 
 slight a notice. Repudiation ensued, from the highest 
 to the lowest, and universal bankruptcy threatened the 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 101 
 
 nation. Great as were the social and commercial dis- 
 asters which then threw so dark a pall of gloom over the 
 whole Confederacy, it may be a matter of reasonable and 
 just surprise that the entire fabric of the Government was 
 not shattered in ruins to the earth. 
 
 Mr. Webster delivered several very able speeches in the 
 Senate in regard to the removal of the deposits, and in 
 reprobation of that rash and pernicious act. Favorable op- 
 portunities for so doing constantly occurred, in consequence 
 of the great number of petitions and memorials condemnino- 
 the act, which poured in upon Congress from all parts of 
 the country. In one of the most conclusive and unanswer- 
 able of these speeches, he uses the following language : 
 
 " The Senate regarded this interposition as an encroach- 
 ment by the Executive on other branches of the Govern- 
 ment, — as an interference with the legislative disposition 
 of the public treasure. It was strongly and forcibly urged, 
 yesterday, by the honorable member from South Carolina, 
 that the true and only mode of preserving any balance of 
 power, in mixed governments, is to keep an exact balance. 
 This is very true ; and to this end encroachment must be 
 resisted at the first step. The question is, therefore, 
 whether, upon the true principles of the Constitution, this 
 exercise of power by the President can be justified. 
 Whether the consequences be prejudicial or not, if there 
 be an illegal exercise of power, it is to be resisted in the 
 proper manner. Even if no harm or inconvenience result 
 from transgressing the boundary, the intrusion is not to be 
 suffered to pass unnoticed. Every encroachment, great or 
 small, is important enough to awaken the attention of 
 those who are intrusted- with the preservation of a con- 
 stitutional government. We are not to wait till great 
 public mischiefs come, till the government is overthrown, 
 or liberty itself put into extreme jeopardy. We ahould 
 
 9* 
 
102 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 not be worthy sons of our fathers were we so to regard 
 great questions afi'ecting the general freedom. Those 
 fathers accomplished the Revolution on a strict question 
 of principle. The Parliament of Great Britain asserted a 
 right to tax the colonies in all cases whatsoever ; and it 
 was precisely on this question that they made the Revolu- 
 tion turn. The amount of taxation was trifling, but the 
 claim itself was inconsistent with liberty ; and that AVas, 
 in their eyes, enough. It was against the recital of an act 
 of Parliament, rather than against any suffering under its 
 enactments, that they took up arms. They went to war 
 against a preamble. They fought seven years against a 
 declaration. They poured out their treasures and their 
 blood like water, in a contest against an assertion which 
 those less sagacious and not so well schooled in the prin- 
 ciples of civil liberty would have regarded as barren 
 phraseology, or mere parade of words. They saw in the 
 claim of the British Parliament a seminal principle of 
 mischief, the germ of unjust power : they detected it, 
 dragged it forth from underneath its plausible disguises, 
 struck at it ; nor did it elude either their steady eye or 
 their well-directed blow till they had extirpated and de- 
 stroyed it, to the smallest fibre. On this question of 
 principle, while actual suffering was yet afiir off, they 
 raised their flag against a power to which, for purposes 
 of foreign conquest and subjugation, Rome, in the height 
 of her glory, is not to be compared ; a power which has 
 dotted over the surface of the whole globe with her pos- 
 sessions and military posts, whose morning dr'im-beat, 
 following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, 
 circles the earth with one continuous and unbroken strain 
 of the martial airs of England." 
 
 Another subject of general interest which occupied the 
 attention of the nation and of her leading statesmen during 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 103 
 
 the second term of President Jackson was the suppression 
 of the Nullification tendencies of South Carolina. No 
 sooner was he re-elected in the fall of 1832 than the people 
 of that State, foreseeing the probable continuance of the 
 protective policy of the Government, became greatly ex- 
 cited and incensed against it. Meetings were held throuo-h- 
 out the State, and an ordinance was adopted in a General 
 Convention, declaring the existing tariff unconstitutional, 
 and proclaiming the intention of South Carolina, as an 
 independent sovereign state, to resist any attempt which 
 might be made by the officers of the Federal Government 
 within her limits to collect the taxes accruing from its pro- 
 visions. The Legislature of the State soon afterward met, 
 ratified the ordinance, declared the tariff to be uncon- 
 stitutional, null and void, and ordered the militia and 
 other military forces of the commonwealth to hold them- 
 selves in readiness to oppose the aggressions of the General 
 Government. The excitement and hostile ardour pervaded 
 the whole State. Mr. Calhoun resigned the Vice-Presidency 
 and took his seat in the Senate. He had not yet arrived in 
 Washington ; and the report prevailed that General Jackson 
 had resolved to arrest him, on the charge of treason, while 
 on his way to the capital. Mr. Webster opposed and con- 
 demned the conduct of the President as premature and 
 precipitate, as calculated to do more harm than good, 
 and as stretching his prerogatives to an undue length. 
 The contest between the State and Federal Governments 
 became more bitter and perilous from day to day. A pro- 
 clamation issued by the President against the "Nullifiers" 
 was answered by a counter-proclamation sent forth by Mr. 
 Hayne, then Governor of South Carolina. Officers of the 
 American army and navy were ordered to hold themselves 
 in readiness to march at a moment's warning ; and General 
 Scott was sent to Charleston to take such steps as seemed 
 
104 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 to be necessary to crush the spirit of rebellion and 
 treason. ' 
 
 Meanwhile, this frightful state of discord and threatened 
 disunion became the subject of discussion in Congress. On 
 the 21st of January, Mr. Wilkins, of Pennsylvania, offered 
 a bill which proposed to make further and more efficient 
 provision for the collection of the revenues, and authorized 
 the President to crush all resistance to the execution of 
 the revenue-laws of the United States by summoning to 
 his aid all the military resources of the Confederacy. 
 During the discussion of this bill, Mr. Calhoun delivered 
 one of his ablest and most profound arguments in favor 
 of the doctrine of Nullification, and in defence of the 
 policy pursued by South Carolina. His speech was heard 
 in the Senate, and subsequently read throughout the na- 
 tion, with the most intense interest ; and it was worthy to 
 elicit the masterly effort of Mr. Webster by which it was 
 most triumphantly answered. After explaining the doc- 
 trine of Mr. Calhoun clearly and distinctly, Mr. Webster 
 continued as follows : 
 
 "" Beginning with the original error, that the Constitu- 
 tion of the United States is nothing but a compact between 
 sovereign States ; asserting, in the next step, that each 
 State has a right to be its own sole judge of the extent 
 of its own obligations, and, consequently, of the constitu- 
 tionality of laws of Congress ; and in the next, that it 
 may oppose whatever it sees fit to declare unconstitutional, 
 and that it decides for itself on the mode and measure of 
 redress, the argument arrives at once at the conclusion 
 that what a State dissents from, it may nullify ; what it 
 opposes, it may oppose by force ; what it decides for itself, 
 it may execute by its own power ; and that, in short, it is 
 itself supreme over the legislation of Congress, and supreme 
 over the decisions of the national judicature, — supreme 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 105 
 
 over the Constitution of the country, — supreme over the 
 supreme law of the land. However' it seeks to protect 
 itself against these plain inferences by saying that an 
 unconstitutional law is no law, and that it only opposes 
 such laws as are unconstitutional, yet this does not in the 
 slightest degree vary the result, since it insists on deciding 
 this question for itself, and, in opposition to reason and 
 argument, in opposition to practice and experience, in op- 
 position to the judgment of others having an equal right 
 to judge, it says only, ' Such is my opinion ; and my 
 opinion shall be my law, and I will support it by my own 
 strong hand. I denounce the law. I declare it uncon- 
 stitutional : that is enough : it shall not be executed. Men 
 in arms are ready to resist its execution. An attempt to 
 enforce it shall cover the land with blood. Elsewhere it 
 may be binding ; but here it is trampled under foot.' 
 This, sir, is practical nullification." 
 
 Against these positions Mr. Webster laid down a system 
 embodied in the following propositions : 
 
 I. That the Constitution of the United States is not a 
 league, confederacy or compact between the people of 
 the several States in their sovereign capacities, but a 
 Government proper, founded on the adoption of the people, 
 and creating direct relations between itself and individuals. 
 
 II. That no State authority has power to dissolve those 
 relations ; that nothing can dissolve them but revolution ; 
 and that, consequently, there can be no such thing as 
 secession without revolution. 
 
 III. That there is a supreme law, consisting of the Con- 
 stitution of the United States, acts of Congress passed in 
 pursuance of it, and treaties ; and that, in cases not 
 capable of assuming the character of a suit in law or 
 equity. Congress must judge of, and finally interpret, this 
 supreme law, so often as it has occasion to pass acts of 
 
106 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 legislation ; and in cases capable of assuming, and actually 
 assuming, the character of a suit, the Supreme Court of the 
 United States is the final interpreter. 
 
 IV. That an attempt by a State to abrogate, annul or 
 nullify an act of Congress, or to arrest its operation within 
 her limits, on the ground that, in her opinion, such law is 
 unconstitutional, is a direct usurpation on the just powers 
 of the General Government and on the equal rights of 
 other States, a plain violation of the Constitution, and a 
 proceeding essentially revolutionary in its character and 
 tendency. 
 
 The bill which called forth this majestic intellectual tilt 
 between Mr. Webster and Mr. Calhoun finally passed by an 
 almost unanimous vote, John Tyler, of Virginia, being one 
 of the few Senators who gave their ballots against it. Even 
 those Southern representatives who had spoken in opposi- 
 tion to the bill, and in favor of the principle of Nullifica- 
 tion, took occasion to absent themselves when the vote was 
 taken. Mr. Webster's conduct during this crisis gained 
 him the general applause of the nation ; and the President 
 felt himself under such great obligations to him for his effi- 
 cient aid that he made advances to him of a most friendly 
 nature ; and a report was prevalent at the time that a seat 
 in the Cabinet was offered him but declined. Thus was the 
 furious Gorgon of Nullification laid to rest, it may be 
 hoped, forever, and the perilled harmony and integrity of 
 the Union happily preserved and secured ; in the attain- 
 ment of which glorious result, Mr. Webster beyond all 
 question deserved the chief praise and occupied the most 
 prominent place. 
 
 . In November, 1836, Martin A^an Buren was elected 
 President, as successor to General Jackson. The first 
 subject which demanded the attention of the new adminis- 
 tration was the currency-question; for the financial embar- 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 107 
 
 rassments of the country were still a matter of grave 
 concern to all classes of the community. Mr. Van Buren 
 was in every sense the partisan and the patron of the 
 policy which had been pursued by General Jackson. In 
 March, 1837, Mr. Webster delivered an address to the 
 citizens of New York, in Niblo's Saloon, which set forth in 
 the clearest terms the errors and evils of the defunct ad- 
 ministration, and inflicted upon its reputation a deadly and 
 destructive blow. In that speech he discussed the ques- 
 tions of the tariff", internal improvements, the United States 
 Bank, the annexation of Texas, and other leading themes. 
 Mr. Van Buren went into office on the 4th of March, 1837 ; 
 and one of his first acts was to summon an extra session 
 of Congress, to provide for the serious perils which seemed 
 to overhang the community in consequence of the simulta- 
 neous suspension of many banks throughout the country. 
 This very movement was in itself an acknowledgment that 
 the measures of the preceding administration had been so 
 disastrous in their eff'ects as to demand a remedy. The 
 extra session met in September, 1837. Meanwhile, Mr. 
 Van Buren had devised a new and peculiar plan, by which 
 he hoped to promote the financial interests of the country, 
 well known under the epithet of tlie Sub-Treasury Scheme. 
 The intention or operation of this expedient was to accumu- 
 late and disburse the funds of the General Government, 
 without the intervention or the aid of any bank Avhatever. 
 The President also proposed to withhold from tlie States 
 the fourth instalment of the surplus revenue which was 
 then due them. Mr. Webster resolutely condemned and 
 opposed both of these measures ; and on the 28th of 
 September he delivered a speech which embodied his 
 opinions on the subject, in which the following passage 
 occurs : 
 
 The Government of the United States completed the 
 
108 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 forty-eighth year of its existence under its present Con- 
 stitution on the 3d day of March last. During this whole 
 period, it has felt itself bound to take proper care of the 
 currency of the country ; and no administration has ad- 
 mitted this obligation more clearly or more frequently than 
 the last. For the fulfilment of this acknowledged duty, 
 as well as to accomplish other useful purposes, a national 
 bank has been maintained for forty out of these forty-eight 
 years. Two institutions of this kind have been created by 
 law ; one commencing in 1791, and, being limited to twenty 
 years, expiring in 1811 ; the other commencing in 1816, 
 with a like term of duration, and ending, therefore, in 
 1836. Both these institutions, each in its time, accom- 
 plished their purposes, so far as the currency was con- 
 cerned, to the general satisfaction of the country. Before 
 the last bank expired, it had the misfortune to incur the 
 enmity of the late administration. I need not at present 
 speak of the causes of this hostility. My purpose only 
 requires a statement of that fact, as an important one in 
 the chain of occurrences. The late President's dissatisfac- 
 tion with the bank was intimated in his first annual mes- 
 sage, that is to say, in 1829. But the bank stood very 
 well with the country, the President's known and growing 
 hostility notwithstanding, and in 1832, four years before its 
 charter was to expire, both Houses of Congress passed a 
 bill for its continuance, there being in its favor a large 
 majority of the Senate, and a larger majority of the House 
 of Representatives. The bill, however, was negatived by 
 the President. In 1833, by an order of the President, 
 the public moneys were removed from the custody of the 
 bank and were deposited with certain select State banks. 
 This removal was accompanied with the most confident 
 declarations and assurances, put forth in every form, by 
 the President and the Secretary of the Treasury, that 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 109 
 
 these State banks would not only prove safe depositories 
 of the public money, but that they would also furnish the 
 country with as good a currency as it ever had enjoyed, 
 and probably a better ; and would also accomplish all that 
 could be wished in regard to domestic exchanges. The 
 substitution of State banks for a national institution, for 
 the discharge of these duties, was that operation which has 
 become known, and is likely to be long remembered, as the 
 ' Experiment.' 
 
 " For some years all was said to go on extremely well, 
 although it seemed plain enough to a great part of the 
 community that the system was radically vicious ; that its 
 operations were all inconvenient, clumsy, and wholly 
 inadequate to the proposed ends ; and that, sooner or later, 
 there must be an explosion. The administration, however, 
 adhered to its experiment. The more it was complained 
 of by the people, the louder it was praised by the admi- 
 nistration. Its commendation was one of the standing 
 topics of all official communications ; and in his last mes- 
 sage, in December, 1836, the late President was more than 
 usually emphatic upon the great success of his attempts to 
 improve the currency, and the happy results of the experi- 
 ment upon the important business of exchange. 
 
 " But a reverse was at hand. The ripening glories of 
 the experiment were soon to meet a dreadful blighting. 
 In the early part of May last, these banks all stopped 
 payment. This event, of course, produced great distress 
 in the country, and it produced also singular embarrass- 
 ment to the administration. The present administration 
 was then only two months old ; but it had already become 
 formally pledged to maintain the policy of that which had 
 gone before it. The President had avowed his purpose of 
 treading in the footsteps of his predecessor. Here, then, 
 was the difficulty. Here was a political knot, to be either 
 
110 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 untied or cut. The experiment had failed, and failed, as 
 it was thought, so utterly and hopelessly, that it could not 
 be tried again. 
 
 " What, then, was to be done ? Committed against a 
 bank of the United States in the strongest manner, and 
 the substitute, from which so much was expected, having 
 disappointed all hopes, what was the administration to do? 
 Two distinct classes of duties had been performed, in times 
 past, by the Bank of the United States ; one more imme- 
 diately to the Government, the other to the community. 
 The first was the safe-keeping and the transfer, when 
 required, of the public moneys ; the other, the supplying 
 of a sound and convenient paper currency, of equal credit 
 all over the country, and everywhere equivalent to specie, 
 and the giving of most important facilities to the opera- 
 tions of exchange. These objects were highly important, 
 and their perfect accomplishment by the ' experiment' had 
 been promised from the first. The State banks, it was 
 declared, could perform all these duties, and should perform 
 them. But the ' experiment' came to a dishonored end in 
 the early part of last May. The deposit-banks, with the 
 others, stopped payment. They could not render back the 
 deposits ; and so far from being able to furnish a general 
 currency, or to assist exchanges, (purposes, indeed, which 
 they never had fulfilled with any success,) their paper 
 became immediately depreciated, even in its local circula- 
 tion. What course, then, was the administration now to 
 adopt ? Why, sir, it is plain that it had but one alterna- 
 tive. It must either return to the former practice of the 
 Government, take the currency into its own hands, and 
 maintain it, as well as provide for the safe-keeping of the 
 public money by some institution of its own ; or else, 
 adopting some new mode of merely keeping the public 
 moii'^y. it must abandon all further care over currency and 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTEK. Ill 
 
 exchange. One of these courses became inevitable. The 
 administration had no other choice. The State banks 
 could be no longer tried, with the opinion which the admi- 
 nistration now entertained of them ; and how else could 
 any thing be done to maintain the currency ? In no way 
 but bj the establishment of a national institution. 
 
 " There was no escape from this dilemma. One course 
 was, to go back to that which the party had so much con- 
 demned ; the other, to give up the whole duty, and leave 
 the currency to its fate. Between these two, the adminis- 
 tration found itself absolutely obliged to decide ; and it 
 has decided, and decided boldly. It has decided to sur- 
 render the duty, and abandon the Constitution. That deci- 
 sion is before us, in the message, and in the measures now 
 under consideration. The choice has been made ; and 
 that choice, in my opinion, raises a question of the utmost 
 importance to the people of this country, both for the pre- 
 sent and all future time. That question is. Whether Con- 
 gress has, or ought to have, any duty to 'perform, in rela- 
 tion to the currency of the country, beyond the mere 
 regulation of the gold and silver.'' 
 
 During the regular session of 1837-38 Mr. Webster 
 again came in conflict with the potent champion of South 
 Carolina, Mr. Calhoun. The latter introduced a series of 
 resolutions in the Senate, the purport of which was to 
 condemn any interference by Congress with the institution 
 of slavery in the District of Columbia ; and to assert that 
 the intermeddling of any State or its citizens with slavery 
 either in that District or in any of the Territories, on the 
 ground that it was immoral or sinful, would be a direct 
 attack on the rights and institutions of all the slaveholding 
 States. Mr. Clay "bffered an amendment to the resolution 
 of Mr. Calhoun which added that such interference would 
 be in effect a violation of the faith implied and pledged to 
 
112 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 the States of Virginia and Maryland when they ceded 
 the territory of the District to the General Government. 
 Both of these propositions Mr. Webster opposed in the 
 Senate, and held that Congress possessed the constitutional 
 right to abolish slavery in the District, and that in this 
 respect the powers of Congress were unlimited and unre- 
 stricted. In the preceding March he had presented several 
 petitions praying for the abolition of slavery in the Dis- 
 trict, and had then expressly asserted the power of Con- 
 gress over slavery in the District. On the present occasion, 
 after the debate had progressed during some days, he 
 delivered one of his most powerful arguments in support 
 of his opinions, and in reply to a great effort made by Mr. 
 Clay on the opposite side of the question. This speech 
 deserves to rank among his acknowledged masterpieces. 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 113 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Mr. Webster's Visit to England — Election of General Harrison to the 
 Presidency — His Death — Accession of Mr. Tyler — The "Treaty of 
 Washington" — Its Various Provisions — Ability displayed by Mr. Web- 
 ster as a Diplomatist — Approval of the Treaty by Congress and the 
 Executive — '■^Impressment'" — Great Oration of Mr. Webster in Faneuil 
 Hall — Extract from the Speech — Hostility of C. J. IngersoU to Mr. 
 Webster — Mr. AVebster's Retort upon him. 
 
 In the spring of 1839 Mr. "Webster gratified his very 
 natural desire of seeing the Old World, and of enjoying 
 the pleasures and vicissitudes of travel, by making a voyage 
 to Europe. During the summer of that year he visited a 
 large portion of England, Scotland and France. As may 
 readily be supposed, his fame as the first and greatest of 
 American orators and statesmen had preceded him, and 
 he was greeted with applause and a hearty welcome 
 wherever he went. Among the public festivals which he 
 attended by invitation was the First Triennial Celebration 
 of the Royal Agricultural Society at Oxford. He received 
 many invitations to proffered hospitality from the most 
 distinguished and cultivated personages in England. No 
 American traveller had ever been honored with greater 
 marks of consideration in that country than was he. 
 During his tour he paid special attention to the agriculture 
 and the currency of England, as well as its commerce and 
 manufactures. Having at length returned home, he is 
 said to have declared, with patriotic pride and pleasure, 
 that he was more of an American than ever ; and that he 
 entertained a higher estimate than before of his country's 
 real greatness and glory, 
 
 10* 
 
114 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 In 1840 General Harrison was elected to the Presi- 
 dency ; and that venerable hero, as one of his first official 
 acts, tendered to Mr. Webster the choice of a place in his 
 Cabinet. The President desired that he would select the 
 Secretaryship of the Treasury ; but Mr. Webster, for 
 various satisfactory reasons, chose the Secretaryship of 
 State and the control of foreign aftairs. He was led to 
 prefer this post inasmuch as he believed that he could be 
 more useful to the country therein, in settling several im- 
 portant and difficult questions which at that time were 
 litio-ated between the United States and Great Britain. 
 He accordingly assumed the duties of the office ; and the 
 first question of grave difficulty which engaged his atten- 
 tion was the adjusting of the boundary-line between the 
 northern limit of the Confederacy and Canada. 
 
 In the summer of 1841, Mr. Webster received the per- 
 mission of Mr. Tyler, who had succeeded General Har- 
 rison in the Presidency, in consequence of the death of the 
 latter, to address a note to Mr. Fox, in which he informed 
 him that the United States Government were prepared and 
 willing to commence negotiations for the purpose of settling 
 all the disputes existing between it and the English Govern- 
 ment. Soon afterward Sir Robert Peel became British 
 Premier, and Lord Aberdeen, the Secretary of Foreign 
 Affairs, immediately informed Mr. Everett, American mi- 
 nister at the Court of St. James, that the Government of 
 England had resolved to despatch Lord Ashburton as a 
 special minister to the United States to confer with Mr. 
 Webster in the settlement of all existing or apprehended 
 difficulties between the two Governments. Lord Ashburton 
 arrived at Washington on the 6th of April, 1842 ; and 
 Mr. Webster sent a communication to the Governors of 
 Maine and Massachusetts, informing them of the arrival 
 of the British plenipotentiary, and requesting them to ap- 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 115 
 
 point commissioners to assist in settling the disputed matter 
 of the Northern boundary. The Executiyes of those two 
 States immediately complied with the suggestion of Mr. 
 Webster, and the commissioners selected by them arrived 
 in the Federal capital in June, 1842. The northeastern, 
 northwestern, and much of the intervening portions of the 
 line "which separated the territorial possessions of the two 
 countries had never been really determined. From New 
 Brunswick to the distant Pacific coast, disputed territories 
 of vast extent were claimed by both nations, upon some of 
 which American citizens had located and rights had been 
 already vested, on the supposition that the soil was under 
 the jurisdiction of their native Government ; and in other 
 places settlements had been made by British subjects under 
 a similar impression. The question of settlement had be- 
 come intricate ; and the adjustment of it was a task of 
 great delicacy and difficulty. 
 
 After four months of incessant labor, a treaty was agreed 
 upon, familiarly known in American history as the " Ash- 
 burton treaty," but technically and properly termed the 
 "Treaty of Washington," by which this point and several 
 others were judiciously settled. This treaty definitely 
 fixed the boundary between the United States and the 
 British possessions in North America along the whole line 
 from Nova Scotia to the St. Lawrence River, thence along 
 that river and through the great chain of lakes to the 
 head-waters of Lake Superior, and thence over a vast area 
 four thousand miles in extent, over mountains and primeval 
 forests and pathless plains, to the foot of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains. 
 
 Another question which engaged the attention of the 
 diplomatists on this occasion was the African slave-trade, 
 which had been pronounced piracy by both Governments. 
 England had adopted the policy of declaring those slaves 
 
116 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 free which might be thrown upon her West India settle- 
 ments by stress of weather and other irresistible causes ; 
 authorizing her local authorities at once to free all such 
 slaves from the control of their masters whenever they 
 were thus placed involuntarily within the jurisdiction of 
 British law. This was regarded by American citizens and 
 slave-owners as an unjust interpretation of the provisions 
 of the celebrated " Quintuple Treaty," adopted in De- 
 cember, 1841, by England, France, Austria, Prussia and 
 Russia; one of the provisions of which referred to the 
 right of search of vessels suspected of being engaged in 
 the African slave-trade. The eighth article of the treaty 
 of Washington settled this matter on an equitable and 
 permanent basis. It provided as follows : 
 
 "The parties mutually stipulate," says the article men- 
 tioned, " that each shall prepare, equip and maintain in 
 service, on the coast of Africa, a sufficient and adequate 
 squadron, or naval force of vessels, of suitable numbers 
 and descriptions, to carry in all not less than eight guns, 
 to enforce, separately and respectively, the laws, rights, 
 and obligations of each of the two countries for the sup- 
 pression of the slave-trade ; the said squadrons to be inde- 
 pendent of each other, but the two Governments stipu- 
 lating, nevertheless, to give such orders to the officers 
 commanding their respective forces as shall enable them 
 most effectually to act in concert and co-operation, upon 
 mutual consultations, as exigencies may arise, for the 
 attainment of the true object of this article; copies of all 
 such orders to be communicated by each Government to 
 the other, respectively." 
 
 The third point of main importance in this celebrated 
 treaty referred to the extradition of fugitives from justice. 
 Ever since the foundation of the American Confederacy 
 its territories had been the secure refuge of innumerable 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 117 
 
 and grave offenders against British law ; and the Canadas 
 contained a vast number of fugitives from justice from the 
 United States. It will be apparent to every observer how 
 important and desirable a compact between the two Go- 
 vernments would be, by which the offenders against their 
 respective laws would be apprehended and delivered over 
 to the arm of justice. The tenth article of the treaty 
 settled the matter satisfactorily as follows : 
 
 " It is agreed," says that document, "that the United 
 States and her Britannic Majesty shall, upon mutual 
 requisitions by them, or their ministers, officers or author- 
 ities, respectively made, deliver up to justice all persons 
 who, being charged with the crime of murder, or assault 
 with intent to commit murder, or piracy, or arson, or rob- 
 bery, or forgery, or the utterance of forged papers, com- 
 mitted within the jurisdiction of either, shall seek an 
 asylum, or shall be found, within the territories of the 
 other : provided that this shall only be done upon such 
 evidence of criminality as, according to the laws of the 
 place where the fugitive or person so charged shall be 
 found, would justify his apprehension and commitment for 
 trial if the crime or offence had there been committed ; 
 and the respective judges and other magistrates of the two 
 Governments shall have power, jurisdiction and authority, 
 upon complaint made under oath, to issue a warrant for 
 the apprehension of the fugitive or person so charged, that 
 he may be brought before such judges or other magistrates, 
 respectively, to the end that the evidence of criminality 
 may be heard and considered ; and if, on such hearing, 
 the evidence be deemed sufficient to sustain the charge, it 
 shall be the duty of the examining judge or magistrate to 
 certify the same to the proper executive authority, that a 
 warrant may issue for the surrender of such fugitive. The 
 expense of such apprehension and delivery shall be borne 
 
118 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 by the party who makes the requisition and receives the 
 fugitive." 
 
 This treaty was communicated to the Senate on the 11th 
 of August, 1842, and on motion of Mr. Rives, of Virginia, 
 it was referred to the Committee of Foreign Affairs. It 
 was reported back again to the JSenate without amendment; 
 and on the 20th of August, after an ample discussion of 
 its provisions, it was ratified by the Senate by a vote of 
 thirty-nine to nine, and in the House by a still greater 
 majority. Among the Senators who voted against the 
 treaty were Messrs. Benton and Buchanan. The American 
 people throughout the vast extent of their empire approved 
 the treaty by an almost unanimous voice ; and the fame 
 of Mr. Webster, as the diplomatist who had conducted and 
 completed the negotiations so successfully, Avas lauded from 
 one ocean to the other, as having deserved well of his 
 fellow-citizens by his consummate skill in securing the 
 just claims of his country in opposition to the encroach- 
 ments of an ambitious and envious foreign power. 
 
 Another bone of controversy still existed between the 
 two countries which had not been brought within the range 
 of the stipulations of the treaty. This was the doctrine 
 of impressment, which had, as it was asserted by Great 
 Britain, been the real cause of the war of 1812. This 
 point had not been included in the treaty of Washington, 
 because Lord x^shburton had received no instructions on 
 the subject. Mr. Webster, however, addressed a letter to 
 the British representative, in which he discussed the whole 
 matter at length. In this able and unanswerable com- 
 munication the following passage occurs : 
 
 " We have had several conversations," he says, "on the 
 subject of impressment ; but I do not understand that your 
 lordship has instructions from your Government to nego- 
 tiate upon it ; nor does the Government of the United 
 
OP DANIEL WEBSTER. 119 
 
 States see any utility in opening such negotiation, unless 
 the British Government is prepared to renounce the prac- 
 tice in all future wars. 
 
 " No cause has produced, to so great an extent and for 
 so long a period, disturbing and irritating influences in the 
 political relations of the United States and England, as 
 the impressment of seamen by British cruisers from Ame- 
 rican merchant-vessels. 
 
 "From the commencement of the French Revolution to 
 the breaking out of the war between the two countries in 
 1812, hardly a year elapsed without loud complaint and 
 earnest remonstrance. A deep feeling of opposition to 
 the right claimed, and to the practice exercised under it, — 
 and not unfrequently exercised without the least regard to 
 what justice and humanity would have dictated, even if 
 the right itself had been admitted, — took possession of the 
 public mind of America ; and this feeling, it is well known, 
 co-operated most powerfully with other causes to produce 
 the state of hostilities which ensued. 
 
 " At different periods, both before and since the war, 
 negotiations have taken place between the two Govern- 
 ments, with the hope of finding some means of quieting 
 these complaints. At some times the effectual abolition 
 of the practice has been requested and treated of; at other 
 times, its temporary suspension ; and at other times, again, 
 the limitation of its exercise, and some security against its 
 enormous abuses. 
 
 " A common destiny has attended these efforts. They 
 have all failed. The question stands at this moment where 
 it stood fifty years ago. The nearest approach to a set- 
 tlement was a convention proposed in 1803, and which had 
 come to the point of signature, when it was broken off in 
 consequence of the British Government insisting that the 
 narrow seas should be expressly excepted out of the sphere 
 
120 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 over which the contemplated stipulation against impress- 
 ment should extend. The American minister, Mr. King, 
 regarded this exception as quite inadmissible, and chose 
 rather to abandon the negotiation than to acquiesce in the 
 doctrine which it proposed to establish." 
 
 The claim set up by England is then clearly stated : — 
 " England asserts the right of impressing British subjects, 
 in time of war, out of neutral merchant-vessels, and of 
 deciding, by her visiting-officers, who among the crews of 
 such merchant-vessels are British subjects. She asserts 
 this as a legal exercise of the prerogative of the Crown, 
 Avhich prerogative is alleged to be founded on the English 
 law of the perpetual and indissoluble allegiance of the 
 subject, and his obligation, uftder all circumstances, and 
 for his whole life, to render military service to the Crown 
 whenever required." 
 
 Lord Ashburton received the communication of Mr. 
 Webster with great deference, and assured him that it 
 should be sent to the Government Avhich he represented, 
 and that it should receive that grave consideration which 
 it deserved. 
 
 Mr. Webster at this period incurred the indignation of 
 a certain portion of American citizens because, when the 
 whole of Mr. Tyler's Cabinet resigned in disgust at an 
 early period of his administration, he alone saw fit to re- 
 tain his post as Secretary of State. It was thought that 
 this was a discreditable proof of a thirst for the dignities 
 and emoluments of office, which was not very honorable 
 in him. A portion of these censors resided in Massachu- 
 setts. To rebut and reprove their unjust charges, Mr. 
 Webster addressed a meeting of the citizens of Boston in 
 Faneuil Hall on the 30th of September, 1842, and tri- 
 umphantly vindicated himself from their aspersions. In 
 'the course of this able effort he expressed himself in the 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 121 
 
 following language, and began by saying: "I know not 
 how it is, Mr. Mayor, but there is something in the echoes 
 of these walls, or in this sea of upturned faces which I 
 behold before me, or in the genius that always hovers 
 over this place, fanning ardent and patriotic feeling by 
 every motion of its wings, — I know not how it is, but 
 there is something that excites me strangely, deeply, be- 
 fore I even begin to speak." Having alluded to other 
 minor topics, he continued : 
 
 " There were many persons, in September, 1841," said 
 the orator, " who found great fault with my remaining 
 in the President's Cabinet. You know, gentlemen, that 
 twenty years of honest, and not always of undistinguished 
 service in the Whig cause, did not save me from an out- 
 pouring of wrath which seldom proceeds from Whig pens 
 and Whig tongues against anybody. I am, gentleman, a 
 little hard to coax, but as to being driven, that is out of 
 the question. I chose to trust my own judgment; and 
 thinking I was at a post Avhere I was in the service of the 
 country and could do it good, I stayed there. And I leave 
 it to you to-day to say, I leave it to my country to say, 
 whether the country would have been better off if I had 
 left also. I have no attachment to office. I have tasted of 
 its sweets, but I have tasted of its bitterness. I am con- 
 tent with what I have achieved ; I am more ready to rest 
 satisfied with what is gained than to run the risk of 
 doubtful efforts for new acquisition. 
 
 " I suppose I ought to pause here. I ought, perhaps, 
 to allude to nothing more ; and I will not allude to any 
 thing further than it may be supposed to concern myself, 
 directly or by implication. Gentlemen, and !*Ir. Mayor, 
 a most respectable convention of Whig delegates met in 
 this place a few days since, and passed very important 
 resolutions. There is no set of gentlemen in the common- 
 
 11 
 
122 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 wealth, so far as I know them, who have more of my respect 
 and regard. They are Whigs, but they are no better Whigs 
 than I am. They have served the country in the Whig 
 ranks ; so have 1, quite as long as most of them, though 
 perhaps with less ability and success. Their resolutions 
 on political subjects, as representing the Whigs of the 
 State, are entitled to respect, so far as they were author- 
 ized to express opinion on those subjects, and no further. 
 They were sent hither, as I supposed, to agree upon 
 candidates for the offices of Governor and Lieutenant- 
 Governor for the support of the Whigs of Massachusetts ; 
 and if they had any authority to speak in the name of 
 the Whigs of Massachusetts to any other purport or intent, 
 I have not been informed of it. I feel very little dis- 
 turbed by any of those proceedings, of whatever nature ; 
 but some of them appear to me to have been inconsiderate 
 and hasty, and their point and bearing can hardly be mis- 
 taken. I notice, among others, a declaration made, in 
 behalf of all the Whigs of this commonwealth, of ' a full and 
 final separation from the President of the United States.' 
 If those gentlemen saw fit to express their own sentiments 
 to that extent, there was no objection. Whigs speak 
 their sentiments everywhere ; but whether they may as- 
 sume a privilege to speak for others on a point on which 
 those others have not given them authority, is another 
 question. I am a Whig, I always have been a Whig, and 
 I always will be one ; and if there are any who would turn 
 me out of the pale of that communion, let them see who 
 will get out first. I am a Massachusetts Whig, a Faneuil 
 Hall Whig, having breathed this air for five-and-twenty 
 years, and meaning to breathe it as long as my life is 
 spared. I am ready to submit to all decisions of Whig 
 conventions on subjects on which they are authorized to 
 make decisions; I know that great party good and great 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 123 
 
 public good can only be so obtained. But it is quite 
 another question whether a set of gentlemen, however 
 respectable they may be as individuals, shall have the 
 power to bind me on matters which I have not agreed to 
 submit to their decision at all. 
 
 " ' A full and final separation' is declared between the 
 Whig party of Massachusetts and the President. That is 
 the text : it requires a commentary. What does it mean ? 
 The President of the United States has three years of 
 his term of office yet unexpired. Does this declaration 
 mean, then, that during those three years all the measures 
 of his administration are to be opposed by the great 
 body of the Whig party of Massachusetts, whether they 
 are right or wrong ? There are great public interests 
 which require his attention. If the President of the 
 United States should attempt, by negotiation, or by 
 earnest and serious application to Congress, to make some 
 change in the present arrangements, such as should be of 
 service to those interests of navigation which are con- 
 cerned in the colonial trade, are the Whigs of Massachu- 
 setts to give him neither aid nor succor ? If the President 
 of the United States shall direct the proper departaient 
 to review the whole commercial policy of the United 
 States, in respect of reciprocity in the indirect trade, to 
 which so much of our tonnage is now sacrificed, if the 
 amendment of this policy shall be undertaken by him, is 
 there such a separation between him and the Whigs of Massa- 
 chusetts as shall lead them and their representatives to 
 oppose it ? Do you know (there are gentleman now here 
 who do know) that a large proportion — I rather think more 
 than one-half — of the carrying trade between the Empire 
 of Brazil and the United States is enjoyed by tonnage 
 from the North of Europe, in consequence of this ill-con- 
 sidered principle with regard to reciprocity ? You might 
 
124 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 just as well admit them into the coasting-trade. Bj this 
 arrangement we take the bread out of our children's 
 mouths and give it to strangers. I appeal to you, sir, 
 [turning to Captain Benjamin Rich, who sat by him,] is 
 not this true ? [Mr. Rich at once replied, " True !"] Is 
 every measure of this sort, for the relief of such abuses, 
 to be rejected ? Are we to suffer ourselves to remain in- 
 active under every grievance of this kind until these three 
 years shall expire, and through as many more as shall 
 pass until Providence shall bless us with more power of 
 doing good than we have now ? 
 
 " Again : there are now in this State persons employed 
 under Government, allowed to be pretty good Whigs, still 
 holding their offices, — collectors, district-attorneys, post- 
 masters, marshals. What is to become of them in this 
 separation ? Which side are they to fall ? Are they to 
 resign ? or is this resolution to be held up to Government 
 ;is an invitation or a provocation to turn them out ? Our 
 distinguished fellow-citizen who, with so much credit to 
 himself and to his country, represents our Government in 
 England, — is he expected to come home, on this separa- 
 tion, and yield his place to his predecessor, or to some- 
 body else ? And in regard to the individual who addresses 
 you, — what do his brother Whigs mean to do with him ? 
 Where do they mean to place me ? Generally, when a 
 divorce takes place, the parties divide their children. I am 
 anxious to know where, in the case of this divorce, I shall 
 fall. This declaration announces ' a full and final separa- 
 tion between the> Whigs of Massachusetts and the Pre- 
 sident.' If I choose to remain in the President's councils, 
 do these gentlemen mean to say that I cease to be a 
 Massachusetts Whig ? I am quite ready to put that ques- 
 tion to the people of Massachusetts." 
 
 The treaty of Washington, by which the points of dis- 
 
OF DANIEL WEESTER. 125 
 
 pute wliicli existed between England and the United States 
 Lad been judiciously settled by Mr. Webster, continued to 
 furnish his opponents -with a fertile subject of censure and 
 abuse ; and in the canvass of 1844 it was made an elec- 
 tioneering element. It was not until 1846, when Mr. 
 Webster returned to the Senate, that a favorable oppor- 
 tunity was offered to vindicate himself and his treaty be- 
 fore the whole country. During the session of 1846^ 
 this treaty was again made the theme of discussion in 
 Congress; and among those representatives who most 
 bitterly condemned and censured it was Mr. Charles J. 
 Ingersoll, from Pennsylvania. This gentleman seemed to 
 feel a special malignity against Mr. Webster, and ren- 
 dered himself prominent in his reprobation of that states- 
 man's proceedings and negotiations Avith the British pleni- 
 potentiary. His speech .delivered on the occasion clearly 
 evinced this sentiment ; and proved that he had indus- 
 triously collected together all the calumnies and slanders 
 which had been uttered in reference to the subject, and 
 combined them together in one insane utterance of mingled 
 bitterness, falsehood, and imbecility. During the progress 
 of the debate Mr. Dickinson, of New York, made a fierce 
 attack on Mr. Webster, in a powerful and elaborate 
 speech, in which, however, he reproduced and repeated 
 some of the inventions of Mr. Ingersoll. The latter 
 having thus received the apparent impress of importance 
 and authority by being adopted and uttered by Mr. Dickin- 
 son, Mr. Webster felt called upon to give the subject a 
 formal and thorough discussion in the Senate. On the sixth 
 and seventh days of April, he delivered one of his ablest 
 efforts. He proved most unanswerably that the north- 
 eastern boundary had been fairly and satisfactorily settled; 
 that proper satisfaction and apology had been obtained for 
 an aggression on the territory of the United States ; that 
 
 11* 
 
126 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 safe and suitable stipulations had been entered into to se- 
 cure the fulfilment of the duty of Government in regard 
 to the slave-trade; that crimes disturbing the peace of 
 nations had been suppressed ; that the Southern coasting- 
 trade had been secured ; that impressment had been abo- 
 lished ; and that the honor of the American name had been 
 amply vindicated. In addition to all this, he proceeded to 
 castigate Mr. IngersoU with the lash of a Titan, as the 
 chief slanderer, who had been most active and indefatigable 
 in raking together the manifold and multiform filth in refer- 
 ence to him and the treaty, which he had afterward uttered 
 in offensive streams in Congress ; and he applied to him such 
 a discipline of ridicule, sarcasm, and contempt as had never 
 before been witnessed in the halls of the Capitol. He 
 completely extinguished his enemy ; and so total was his 
 political annihilation that, from that hour and beneath that 
 gigantic blow, his victim vanished entirely from public 
 view and sank into oblivion. 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 127 
 
 t 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Temporary Retirement of Mr. Webster from Political Life — His Legal 
 Arguments — The Girard Will Case — Suit against the City of Boston — 
 Mr. Webster returns to the Senate — Annexation of Texas — Dispute 
 respecting Oregon Territory — The Mexican AVar — Admission of Cali- 
 fornia — The Compromise Measures of Mr. Clay — Mr. Webster's Able 
 Speech on the Subject. 
 
 Mr. Webster spent the two succeeding years in absence 
 from the national councils, and in the pursuit of his pro- 
 fessional engagements at the bar. During this interval he 
 was employed in the conduct of several important law- 
 suits, which attracted the attention of the whole com- 
 munity in consequence of the magnitude of the interests 
 involved in them. Several of these assumed the form of 
 arguments before the United States Supreme Court at 
 Washington. Among the number was the case of Vidal 
 and others against the Executors of the Will of Stephen 
 Girard, in which property to the value of millions was con- 
 cerned. In this memorable case he was opposed by Horace 
 Binney of Philadelphia, a jurist who, possessing none of 
 the abilities of Mr. Webster as a statesman, was fully his 
 equal, and probably his superior, in legal learning. The 
 position assumed by Mr. Webster on this occasion was, 
 that Girard College, the chief devisee under the will, was 
 not a charity, because established on atheistical principles ; 
 and therefore not entitled to the protection of the laws. 
 This position, doubtless the only one upon which an argu- 
 ment could possibly be based against the validity of the 
 
128 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 will, was supported by all the immense resources of erudi- 
 tion and eloquence which his great mind possessed ; but he 
 was manifestly defending the wrong side of the question, 
 and so the Supreme Court ultimately decided. Another 
 case of importance in which he was concerned was that 
 of the Providence Railroad against the City of Boston, 
 which was purely an effort of technical learning and re- 
 search, from the nature of the interests and the facts 
 involved. In June, 1844, Mr. Webster delivered his 
 memorable address on the completion of the Bunker Hill 
 Monument. He had himself baptized the foundation- 
 stone of that colossal shaft several years before, with a 
 torrent of classical eloquence ; and now he breathed upon 
 the finished crown of its aspiring head, the inspiration of 
 his fervent and sublime benediction. 
 
 One of the most important questions which engaged the 
 attention of Congress at this period was the proposed an- 
 nexation of the Republic of Texas. Mr. Webster Avas 
 opposed to this measure ; and his opposition was based 
 upon the ground that too great an extension of the terri- 
 tory of tlie Confederacy would be injurious to the interests 
 and the perpetuity of the Government, and that the true 
 welfare of the nation would be more effectually promoted 
 by the development of its internal resources than by the 
 enlargement of its superficial extent. He adduced other 
 objections : 
 
 "In the next place, sir," said the Senator, in giving a 
 direct statement of this reason for his opposition, "I have 
 to say, that while I hold, with as much integrity, I trust, 
 and faithfulness, as any citizen of this country, to all the 
 original arrangements and compromises under which the 
 Constitution un'lor which we now live was adopted, I never 
 could, and never can, persuade myself to be in favor of 
 the admission of other States into the Union as slave 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 129 
 
 States, with the inequalities which were allowed and ac- 
 corded by the Constitution to the slaveholding States 
 then in existence. I do not think that the free States 
 ever expected, or could expect, that they would be called 
 on to admit more slave States having the unequal advan- 
 tages arising to them from the mode of apportioning 
 representation under the existing Constitution. 
 
 " Sir, I have Jiever made an effort, and never propose 
 to make an effort, I have never countenanced an effort, 
 and never mean to countenance an effort, to disturb the 
 arrangements, as originally made, by which the various 
 States came into the Union. But I cannot avoid con- 
 sidering it quite a different question, when a proposition 
 is made to admit new States, and that they be allowed to 
 come in with the same advantages and inequalities Avhich 
 were agreed to in regard to the old. It may be said that, 
 according to the provisions of the Constitution, new States 
 are to be admitted upon the same footing as the old States. 
 It may be so ; but it does not follow at all from that pro- 
 vision that every territory or portion of country may at 
 pleasure establish slavery, and then say, we will become a 
 portion of the Union, and will bring with us the principles 
 which we have thus adopted, and must be received on the 
 same footing as the old States. It will always be a ques- 
 tion whether the other States, have not a right (and I 
 think they have the clearest right) to require that the 
 State coming into the Union should come in upon an 
 equality ; and if the existence of slavery be an impedi- 
 ment to coming in on an equality, then the State pro- 
 posing to come in should be required to remove that in- 
 equality by abolishing slavery, or take the alternative of 
 being excluded. * 
 
 " Now, I suppose that I should be very safe in saying 
 that if a proposition were made to introduce, from the 
 
130 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 North or the Northwest, territories into this Union, under 
 circumstances which would give them an equivalent to 
 that enjoyed by slave States, — advantage and inequality, 
 that is to say, over the South, such as this admission gives 
 to the South over the North, — I take it for granted that 
 there is not a gentleman in this body from a slaveholding 
 State that would listen for one moment to such a propo- 
 sition. I therefore put my opposition, as well as on other 
 grounds, on the political ground that it deranges the 
 balance of the Constitution, and creates inequality and 
 unjust advantage against the North, and in favor of the 
 slaveholding country of the South. I repeat, that if a 
 proposition were now made for annexation from the North, 
 and that proposition contained such a preference, such a 
 manifest inequality, as that now before us, no one could 
 hope that any gentleman from the Southern States would 
 hearken to it for a moment. 
 
 " It is not a subject that I mean to discuss at length. 
 I am quite aware that there are in this chamber gentlemen 
 representing free States, gentlemen from the North and 
 East, who have manifested a disposition to add Texas to 
 the Union as a slave State, with the common inequality 
 belonging; to slave States. This is a matter for their own 
 discretion, and judgment, and responsibility. They are in 
 no way responsible to me for the exercise of the duties 
 assigned them here ; but I must say that I cannot but 
 think that the time will come when they will very much 
 doubt both the propriety and justice of the present pro- 
 ceeding. I cannot but think the time will come when all 
 will be convinced that there is no reason, political or 
 moral, for increasing the number of the States, and in- 
 creasing, at the same time, the obvious inequality which 
 exists in the representation of the people in Congress by 
 extending slavery and slave representation. 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 131 
 
 " On looking at the proposition further, I find that it 
 imposes restraints upon the Legislature of the State as 
 to the manner in which it shall proceed (in case of a 
 desire to proceed at all) in order to the abolition of sla- 
 very. I have perused that part of the Constitution of 
 Texas, and, if I understand it, the Legislature is re- 
 strained from abolishing slavery at any time, except on 
 two conditions ; one, the consent of every master, and the 
 other, the payment of compensation. Now, I think that 
 a Constitution thus formed ties up the hands of the legis- 
 lature effectually against any movement, under any state 
 of circumstances, with a view to abolish slavery ; because, 
 if any thing is to be done, it must be done within the 
 State by general law, and such a thing as the consent of 
 every master cannot be obtained ; though I do not say 
 that there may not be an inherent power in the people of 
 Texas to alter the Constitution, if they should be inclined 
 to relieve themselves hereafter from the restraint under 
 which they labor. But I speak of the Constitution now 
 presented to us. 
 
 " Mr. President, I was not in Congress at the last 
 session, and, of course, had no opportunity to take part 
 in the debates upon this question ; nor have I before been 
 called upon to discharge a public trust in regard to it. 
 I certainly did, as a private citizen, entertain a strong 
 feeling that, if Texas were to be brought into the Union 
 at all, she ought to be brought in by diplomatic arrange- 
 ment, sanctioned by treaty. But it has been decided 
 otherwise by both Houses of Congress; and, whatever 
 my own opinions may be, I know that many who coincided 
 with me feel themselves, nevertheless, bound by the de- 
 cision of all branches of the Government. My own opi- 
 nion and judgment have not been at all shaken by any 
 thing I have heard. And now, not having been a member 
 
132 THE LIFE Ayro TIMES 
 
 of the Government, and having, of course, taken no 
 official part in the measure, and as it has now come to be 
 completed, I have believed that I should best discharge 
 my own duty, and fulfil the expectations of those who 
 placed me here, by giving this expression of their most 
 decided, unequivocal, and unanimous dissent and protest; 
 and stating, as I have now stated, the reasons which have 
 impelled me to withhold my vote. 
 
 " I agree with the unanimous opinion of the Legisla- 
 ture of Massachusetts : I aoree with the great mass of 
 her people ; I reaffirm what I have said and written during 
 the last eight years, at various times, against this annexa- 
 tion, I here record my own dissent and opposition ; and 
 I here express and place on record, also, the dissent and 
 proteft of the State of Massachusetts." 
 
 Texas was eventually annexed, and the result was pre- 
 cisely what Mr. Webster had predicted : the nation became 
 involved in a war with Mexico. While this war was in 
 progress, another controversy arose, which threatened to 
 involve the country in hostilities with Enc^land. During 
 the campaign in which Mr. Polk was elected to the Pre- 
 sidency, his party and himself had assumed the position 
 that the United States were entitled to the whole of the 
 Oregon Territory : and they had designated 54 degrees 
 40 minutes as the line which should limit the possessions of 
 Britain. In his first message Mr. Polk recommended that 
 notice should be given to that country that the United 
 States would terminate the convention existing between 
 the two countries, adopted in 1827, by which Oregon Ter- 
 ritory was conjointly occupied. Mr. Webster opposed the 
 policy of the President, and he held the position that the 
 forty-ninth degree of latitude was the extreme limit which 
 the United States could justly claim. This proposition 
 was at first treated with great ridicule bv the administra- 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 133 
 
 tion and its partisans ; but Mr. Webster's sagacity was 
 clearly vindicated by the fact, that Mr. Polk was himself 
 compelled at last to accept the very line of settlement 
 which Mr. "Webster had in the first instance designated 
 and defended. In his speech of the 12th of August, 1848, 
 on this subject, he insisted on the right of Congress to 
 exclude slavery from the Territory ; on the expediency of 
 exercising that right; and against the farther extension 
 of slave territory. In regard to the complaint of Southern 
 Senators that their slave property would be thus excluded 
 from the Territory, he laid do-^vn these three propositions : 
 '■'■First. That when this Constitution was adopted, nobody 
 looked for any new acquisition of territory to be formed 
 into slaveholding States. 
 
 '■'■Second. That the principles of the Constitution pro- 
 hibited, and were intended to prohibit, and should be 
 construed to prohibit, all interference of the General 
 Government with slavery, as it existed, and as it still 
 exists, in the States. And 
 
 ^^ Third. Looking to the operation of these new acquisi- 
 tions, which have in this great degree had the effect of 
 strengthening that interest in the South by the addition 
 oi five States, I feel that there is nothing unjust, nothing 
 of which any honest man can complain, if he is intelligent ; 
 I feel that there is nothing with which the civilized world, 
 if they take notice of so humble a person as myself, will 
 reproach me when I say, as I said the other day, that I 
 have made up my mind, for one, that under no circum- 
 stances will I consent to the further extension of the area 
 of slavery in the United States, or to the further increase 
 of slave representation in the House of Representatives." 
 The same principles of political prudence and sagacity 
 which had induced Mr. Webster to oppose the annexation 
 of Texas constrained him to resist the admission of Cali- 
 
 12 
 
134 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 fornia and New Mexico into the Confederacy. He thought 
 that those vast and often savage reahns woukl cost the 
 Government much more than they would actually be worth ; 
 and he believed that the existence of such States located 
 so far from the centre of the Republic Avould prove inju- 
 rious to its unity, its compactness, and its harmony. In 
 spite of his opposition and that of his friends, these Ter- 
 ritories were ultimately incorporated with the Union ; but 
 the unfavorable prognostications which Mr. Webster had 
 entertained on the subject have been happily disappointed. 
 The Mexican War was at length concluded with honor 
 to the American arms ; and its chief hero, Zachary Taylor, 
 was rewarded for his brilliant services by his election to 
 the Presidency. His inauguration took place on the 4th 
 of March, 1849. Very soon afterward the subject of 
 slavery again assumed a portentous aspect in the country ; 
 and when California demanded to be admitted into the 
 Union as a free State, with her free Constitution already 
 adopted and approved, the opposition of the South and of 
 Southern representatives to the measure became intense 
 and formidable. Large public meetings were held in all 
 the non-slaveholding States in support of the admission 
 of California ; and thus the question received a sectional 
 character and generated a sectional and hostile feeling. 
 Soon a meeting of Southern representatives was held at 
 Washington to deliberate on the subject; and at this meet- 
 ing Mr. Calhoun, still the great leader and Achilles of the 
 Southern party, was appointed to prepare an address to 
 the constituents of the Southern delegates. This address 
 received the signatures of forty-eight Southern representa- 
 tives. The excitement became intense throughout the 
 country. To allay it, and to settle the difficulty, Mr. Clay 
 prepared and introduced his celebrated Compromise mea- 
 suic on the 25th of January, 1850. After a protracted 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 135 
 
 debate, his resolutions were negatived. It was on the 7th 
 of March, after the discussion had continued during several 
 months, that Mr. Webster delivered his memorable speech 
 on this question. This oration was one of his most mas- 
 terly efforts ; and again the Senate-chamber and its 
 vicinity were crowded by a vast assemblage, eager to hear 
 him. He favored to some extent, on this occasion, the 
 interests and prejudices of the South ; and he lost in some 
 degree, in consequence of this fact, his popularity at the 
 North. But his chief purpose evidently Avas to administer 
 soothing counsel, which would heal the existing exacerbation 
 of feeling between rival sections of the Republic, and 
 thus to accomplish the best and noblest aim which an 
 American statesman can ever possibly achieve. 
 
 « 
 
136 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Death of General Taylor — Mr. Webster's Eulogy upon Him — Mr. Web- 
 ster's Last Speech in the Senate — Mr. Fillmore appoints him Secretary 
 of State — Mr. Webster's Celebrated Letter to Chevalier Hiilsemann — 
 Disputed Authorship-^Expedition of Lopez against Cuba — Its Results 
 — Other Questions of Importance disposed of by Mr. AVebster — His 
 Treatment of Kossuth. 
 
 The sudden death of General Taylor filled the nation 
 with regret. The popular sentiment found suitable utter- 
 ance in the eulogies which were pronounced in Congress ; 
 but among the many eloquent men who then offered the 
 tribute of their praise to the memory and the virtues of 
 the deceased hero, none equalled in felicity of thought and 
 expression the remarks made by Mr. Webster. His man- 
 ner and style on such an occasion may be inferred from 
 the following extract from the speech addressed to the 
 Senate : 
 
 " For a very short time, sir, I had a connection with, the 
 executive government of this country ; and at that time 
 very perilous and embarrassing circumstances existed 
 between the United States and the Indians on the borders, 
 and war was actually carried j^n between the United States 
 and the Florida tribes. I very well remember that those 
 who took counsel together on that occasion officially, and 
 who were desirous of placing the military command in the 
 safest hands, came to the conclusion that there was no 
 man in the service more fully uniting the qualities of mili- 
 tary ability and great personal prudence than Zachary 
 Taylor ; and he was appointed to the command. 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 137 
 
 " Unfortunately, his career at the head of this Govern- 
 ment was short. For my part, in all that I have seen of 
 him, I have found much to respect and nothing to con- 
 demn. The circumstances under which he conducted the 
 Government, for the short time he was at the head of it, 
 have been such as not to give him a very favorable oppor- 
 tunity of developing his principles and his policy, and 
 carrying them out ; but I believe he has left on the minds 
 of the country a strong impression, first, of his absolute 
 honesty and integrity of character ; next, of his sound, 
 practical good sense ; and, lastly, of the mildness, kind- 
 ness, and friendliness of his temper toward all his country- 
 
 men. 
 
 " But he is gone. He is ours no more, except in the 
 force of his example. Sir, I heard with infinite delight 
 the sentiments expressed by my honorable friend from 
 Louisiana, who has just resumed his seat, when he earnestly 
 prayed that this event might be used to soften the animosi- 
 ties, to allay party criminations and recriminations, and to 
 restore fellowship and good feeling among the various sec- 
 tions of the Union. Mr. Secretary, great as is our loss 
 to-day, if these inestimable and inappreciable blessings 
 shall have been secured to us even by the death of Zachary 
 Taylor, they have not been purchased at too high a price ; 
 and if his spirit, from the regions to which he has ascended, 
 could see these results from his unexpected and untimely 
 end, if he could see that he had entwined a soldier's laurel 
 around a martyr's crown, he would say exultingly, ' Happy 
 am I, that by my death I have done more for that country 
 which I loved and served, than I did or could do by all the 
 devotion and all the efforts that I could make in her behalf 
 during the short span of my earthly existence !' " 
 
 The obsequies of General Taylor interrupted the dis- 
 cussion of the famous Compromise Measures. After their 
 
 12* 
 
138 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 conclusion the debate was resumed. On the 17th of July, 
 1850, Mr. Webster, in speaking on this momentous theme, 
 addressed the Senate for the last time. He had played 
 the most important part, and had made the most remark- 
 able figure, in the Federal Congress, of any American 
 statesman ; and now at last the time had arrived when 
 that unparalleled career had reached its termination. It 
 is fit that we should chronicle the last words which he ever 
 uttered on the scene of his greatest glory. Said he : 
 
 " And now, Mr. President, to return at last to the prin- 
 cipal and important question before us. What are we to do? 
 How are we to bring this emergent and pressing question 
 to an issue and an end ? Here have we been seven and a 
 half months disputing about points which, in my judg- 
 ment, are of no practical importance to one or the other 
 part of the country. Are we to dwell forever upon a 
 single topic, a single idea ? Are we to forget all the pur- 
 poses for which governments are instituted, and continue 
 everlastingly to dispute about that which is of no essential 
 consequence ? I think, sir, the country calls upon us 
 loudly and imperatively to settle this question. I think 
 that the whole world is looking to see whether this great 
 popular government can get through such a crisis. We 
 are the observed of all observers. It is not to be disputed 
 or doubted that the eyes of all Christendom are upon us. 
 We have stood through many trials. Can we not stand 
 through this, which takes so much the character of a sec- 
 tional controversy ? Can we stand that ? There is no 
 inquiring man in all Europe who does not ask himself that 
 question every day, when he reads the intelligence of the 
 morning. Can this country, with one set of interests at 
 the South, and another set of interests at the North, and 
 these interests supposed, but falsely supposed, to be at 
 variance, — can this people see what is so evident to the 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTEK. 139 
 
 whole world beside, that this Union is their main hope and 
 greatest benefit, and that their interests in every' part are 
 entirely compatible ? Can they see, and will they feel, 
 that their prosperity, their respectability among the na- 
 tions of the earth, and their happiness at home, depend 
 upon the maintenance of their Union and their Constitu- 
 tion ? That is the question. I agree that local divisions 
 are apt to warp the understandings of men and to excite 
 a belligerent feeling between section and section. It is 
 natural, in times of irritation, for one part of the country 
 to say, 'If you do that, I will do this,' and so get up a feel- 
 ing of hostility and defiance. Then comes belligerent 
 legislation, and then an appeal to arms. The question is, 
 whether we have the true patriotism, the Americanism, 
 necessary to carry us through such a trial. The whole 
 world is looking toward us with extreme anxiety. For 
 myself, I propose, sir, to abide by the principles and the 
 purposes which I have avowed. I shall stand by the 
 Union, and by all who stand by it. I shall do justice to 
 the whole country, according to the best of my ability, in 
 all I say, and act for the good of the whole country in all 
 I do. I mean to stand upon the Constitution. I need no 
 other platform. I shall know but one country. The ends 
 I aim at shall be my country's, my God's, and truth's. I 
 was born an American ; I will live an American ; I shall 
 die an American ; and I intend to perform the duties in- 
 cumbent upon me in that character to the end of my 
 career. I mean to do this, with absolute disregard of per- 
 sonal consequences. What are personal consequences? 
 What is the individual man, with all the good or evil that 
 may betide him, in comparison with the good or evil which 
 may befall a great country in a crisis like this, and in the 
 midst of great transactions which concern that country's 
 fate ? Let the consequences be what they will, I am care- 
 
110 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 less. No man can suffer too much, and no man can fall 
 too soon, if he suffer or if he fall in defence of the liber- 
 ties and Constitution of his country." 
 
 Scarcely had Mr. Fillmore succeeded to the Presidency 
 in consequence of the death of General Taylor, than he 
 found himself in a difficult position. He was compelled 
 to appoint a new Cabinet, and the administration was ex- 
 pected to enforce the Compromise measures, which had 
 been at length adopted, but which were repugnant to the 
 feelings of a large portion of the Confederacy. The first 
 act of the President was to offer the first place in the 
 Cabinet to Mr. Webster, whose views harmonized with his 
 own on almost every point of policy. The offer was ac- 
 cepted, and Mr. Webster became for the second time 
 Secretary of State. At this period he began gradually 
 to recover the popularity with the North which he had 
 lost in consequence of the delivery of his speech of the 
 7th of March, 1850. He had endured a vast amount of 
 opprobrium on account of the opinions which he had 
 uttered in that memorable oration; but the storm had 
 gradually spent itself, and he was regaining the confidence 
 and esteem which for a time he had forfeited. His able 
 conduct as chief officer of the Cabinet soon raised him to 
 the same elevation in the popular adulation which he had 
 previously occupied. 
 
 One of the measures which contributed to this result 
 was his official letter to the communication of Chevalier 
 Hlilsemann, the Charge d" Affaires of the Emperor of 
 Austria to this Government. The chevalier had com- 
 plained in his official note, of the mission of Mr. Dudley 
 Mann to the then revolting kingdom of Hungary, for 
 the purpose of expressing the sympathy of the United 
 States with the heroes who were then making prodigious 
 efforts to overthrow the colossal tyranny of Austria, and 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 141 
 
 establish the liberties of their native land. The emperor, 
 by his agent, demanded from the United States Govern- 
 ment an apology for the affront, and a guarantee that it 
 should not be repeated in future. 
 
 For some time the communication of the obsequious 
 tool of the tyrant was treated with oblivious contempt. 
 At length a reply was sent to it, which exhibited as much 
 ability and intellectual power as it expressed of derision 
 and scorn for the pretensions and principles of the poten- 
 tate by whose orders the original note had been sent. 
 The leading doctrine set forth in this memorable paper 
 was, that the Austrian monarch had no right whatever to 
 object to the interest taken by the United States Govern- 
 ment in the struggles of a people who were toiling for the 
 attainment of their liberties, because such a course we had 
 ourselves pursued; and such a course was consonant with 
 the fundamental principles of the American Confederacy. 
 The composition of this masterly document has been 
 generally ascribed by the popular voice to the pen of 
 Edward Everett; but the fact probably was, that Mr. 
 Webster suggested the principles which are set forth, the 
 general ideas which are contained in it, requesting Mr. 
 Everett to put these into appropriate language, and give 
 them their present form and connection. 
 
 On the 14th of October, 1851, Don Calderon de la 
 Barca, the Spanish minister at Washington, addressed 
 a note to Mr. Webster in reference to the outrages 
 which had been committed at New Orleans upon Spanish 
 residents there by the partisans of Lopez and his asso- 
 ciates in his disastrous expedition against Cuba. The 
 demand of the minister for reparation was an equitable 
 one ; because those Spaniards were not in the slightest 
 degree responsible for the conduct of their distant Govern- 
 ment. Mr. Webster accordingly addressed a reply to De 
 
142 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 la Barca on the 13th of November, condemning the ex- 
 pedition of Lopez and the excesses of his friends, and 
 promising on the part of the United States Government 
 all the satisfaction which was just under the circumstances. 
 This appropriate act did not prevent Mr. Webster from 
 subsequently sending a communication to Mr. Barringer, 
 the United States minister at Madrid, asking his inter- 
 position in procuring the release of the American prisoners 
 who were yet in durance at Havana, or were under sen- 
 tence of death amid the glooms of the Spanish mines. The 
 result of this timely and generous interference was the 
 ultimate pardon and release of a hundred and sixty-two 
 of the daring and reckless adventurers, who had been 
 consigned to the penalty of death, — a penalty which they 
 had richly deserved, as we must admit when we remember 
 the fact that they had entered on a most detestable ex- 
 pedition, prepared to commit every possible excess in order 
 to gratify all the worst passions which disgrace and deform 
 human nature, and who only wanted the ability and the 
 means to carry out their purposes. 
 
 Other subjects of great moment occupied the attention 
 of the Secretary of State during the last year of his public 
 service. Among these were the revival of the terms of the 
 Clayton-Bulwer Treaty in reference to the affairs of Central 
 America, the question of the fisheries, the Tehuantepec 
 Treaty, and the ownership of the Lobos Islands. At 
 this period the interest of Mr. Webster was strongly elici- 
 ted in favor of the merits and fate of Louis Kossuth, the 
 ex-Governor of Hungary, who visited the L^nited States 
 in December, 1851. He had addressed a letter of instruc- 
 tion to Mr. George P. Marsh, the United States minister at 
 Constantinople, directing him to use all his influence to 
 prevent the surrender of the Hungarian patriot and hero 
 to the bloody clutches of the Austrian despot, and to per- 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 143 
 
 mit his removal to the United States. That letter, and 
 the potent influences which it set in operation, were de- 
 cisive of the fate of Governor Kossuth ; and all the arts, 
 promises, and threats of the Austrian court were unavail- 
 ing. Kossuth, who was really one of the most able and 
 eminent statesmen of modern times, sailed for this country 
 and visited various portions of the Confederacy, and was 
 everywhere received with the consideration which he de- 
 served. On the 7th of January, 1852, he was honored 
 with a public dinner at Washington, tendered by a large 
 number of the members of both Houses of Congress. Mr. 
 Webster was present, and delivered a speech, in which he 
 expressed his admiration for Hungarian patriotism and 
 valor, as exhibited in the then recent struggle, and his sym- 
 pathy with the fate of the Hungarian exile. He referred 
 in eloquent terms to the interest which he had felt and 
 uttered, many years previous, in 1824, with the similar 
 struggles of a similar nation, — the heroic patriots of 
 Greece ; and he asserted that he was ready to maintain 
 the same friendly relations, always and everywhere, with 
 any people who might endeavor by similarly legitimate 
 means to throw oflF the detested chains of tyranny, and 
 assert their claim to a position among the free and sove- 
 reign nations of the earth. This was indeed a fitting; and 
 appropriate utterance with which the ablest champion of 
 human liberty in modern times might conclude his long 
 career ; the last words which were destined ever to issue 
 in public from his eloquent lips. 
 
144 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Approach of Mr. Webster's Last Illness — His Religious Opinions — A 
 Summary of it — Mr. Webster's Will — New and Alarming Symptoms 
 — Mr. Webster's Scrutiny of his Own Dissolution — His Death — His 
 Intellectual Character — Parallel between Him and Alexander Hamilton 
 — Mr. Webster's Skill in Agriculture — His Library — His Favorite 
 Amusements — His Fondness for the Sea-Shore — The Admirable Pro- 
 portion of his Mental Faculties — His Peculiarities as an Orator — His 
 Great Logical Power — His Boldness and Fortitude — The Permanence 
 and Splendor of his Fame. 
 
 We have now reached the closing scene in the life of 
 this remarkable man, — a scene as singular and original in 
 its peculiarities as were the events of the preceding epochs 
 and stages of his existence. If it be appointed unto all 
 men once to die, there the similarity of human destiny 
 ends ; for all men die differently : the same description of 
 the last solemn scene will not apply to any two persons of 
 the race ; and in this respect Mr. Webster's last hours, 
 and the conclusion of his memorable career, were unique in 
 their incidents, and in some respects without a parallel. 
 
 It was in April, 1852, that the chronic diarrhoea to 
 which Mr. Webster had been subject for some years during 
 the summer months assumed such alarming appearances, 
 that he was at last compelled to leave his office at Wash- 
 ington and return to Marshficld, in the hope of recovery 
 and relief by breathing the air and reviewing the scenes 
 of that favorite spot. His hope was partially realized. 
 Although he met with a serious accident by being thrown 
 from his carriage during his visit, he acquired ultimately 
 a renewal of his strength. On the 24th of May he ad- 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 145 
 
 dressed an immense audience of the citizens of Boston in 
 Faneuil Hall. Thence he returned to Washington, where 
 he remained until the public reception which was given 
 him in July by his political friends in the capital of Mas- 
 sachusetts. Once more he returned to the duties of his 
 office at Washington, where he remained until the beginning 
 of September. During the journey which he afterward 
 made through Baltimore toward Marshfield, he took a severe 
 cold, which aggravated all his old symptoms. He visited 
 Boston several times, and at length, on the 21st of Sep- 
 tember, he returned to Marshfield for the last time, fully 
 conscious that his condition was very critical. 
 
 To every intelligent and thinking man the close of life 
 is always an important and solemn occasion ; and thus Mr. 
 Webster viewed it. He directed his attention, as he lay 
 upon his couch, to the subject of religion, and requested 
 that certain passages of Scripture should be read to him. 
 On Sunday evening, October 10th, he dictated to his at- 
 tendants a singular testimony and exposition of his religious 
 belief. It was as follows : 
 
 " LORD, I BELIEVE : HELP THOU MY UNBELIEF. 
 
 " Philosophical argument, especially that drawn from 
 the vastness of the universe in comparison with the ap- 
 parent insignificance of this globe, has sometimes shaken 
 my reason for the faith which is in me ; but my heart has 
 always assured and reassured me that the gospel of Jesus 
 Christ must be a divine reality. The Sermon on the 
 Mount cannot be a merely human production. This belief 
 enters into the very depths of my conscience. The whole 
 
 history of man proves it. 
 
 " D. Webster." 
 
 It was the earnest wish of this great man to leave behind 
 him an express declaration of his belief in tlie truth of the 
 
 13 
 
146 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 Christian religion ; and he desired the preceding compre- 
 hensive and explicit statement to be engraved as an epi- 
 taph upon his tomb. After having thus paid due regard 
 to the moral obligations which devolved upon him, by this 
 .•md by other religious exercises, he proceeded to dispose 
 of his "worldly affairs, and to arrange them, with the same 
 prudence, intelligence, and justice which had ever cha- 
 racterized his conduct in his dealings with his fellow-men 
 during his lifetime. As the will of so remarkable a person 
 as Mr. Webster Avould bear the stamp of his peculiar at- 
 tributes of mind and heart, and as its details will be inte- 
 resting to all intelligent readers, we here introduce it. It 
 was as follows : 
 
 "IN THE NAME OF ALMIGHTY GOD ! 
 
 " I, Daniel Webster, of Marshfield, in the county of 
 Plymouth, and commonwealth of Massachusetts, Esquire, 
 being now confined to my house with a serious illness, 
 which, considering my time of life, is undoubtedly critical, 
 but being nevertheless in the full possession of my mental 
 faculties, do make and publish this, my last will and testa- 
 ment : 
 
 " I commit my soul into the hands of my heavenly 
 Father, trusting in his infinite goodness and mercy. 
 
 " I direct that my mortal remains be buried in the 
 family-vault at Marshfield, where monuments are already 
 erected to my deceased children and their mother. Two 
 places are marked for other monuments, of exactly the 
 same size and form. One of these, in proper time, is for 
 me ; and perhaps I may leave an epitaph. The other is 
 for Mrs. Webster. Her ancestors, and all her kindred, lie 
 in a far-distant city. My hope is, that after many years 
 she may come to my side, and join me and others whom 
 God hath given me. 
 
\ 
 
 OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 147 
 
 " I wish to be buried without the least show or ostenta- 
 tion, but in a manner respectful to my neighbors, whose 
 kindness has contributed so much to the happiness of r:i.e 
 and mine, and for whose prosperity I offer sincere prayers 
 to God. 
 
 " Concerning my worldly estate, my will must be ano- 
 malous and out of the common form, on account of the 
 state of my affairs. I have two large real estates. By 
 marriage-settlement, Mrs. Webster is entitled to a life- 
 estate in each, and after her death they belong to my 
 heirs. On the Franklin estate, so far as I know, there is 
 no encumbrance except Mrs. Webster's Hfe-estate. On 
 Marshfield, Mr. Samuel Frothingham has an unpaid balance 
 of a mortgage, now amounting to twenty-five hundred 
 dollars. My great and leading wish is to preserve Marsh- 
 field, if I can, in the blood and name of my own family. 
 To this end, it must go in the first place to my son, 
 Fletcher Webster, who is hereafter to be the immediate 
 prop of my house and the general representative of my 
 name ajad character. I have the fullest confidence in his 
 affection and good sense, and that he will heartily concur 
 in any thing that appears to be for the best. 
 
 " I do not see, under present circumstances of him and 
 his family, how I can now make a definite provision for the 
 future beyond his life : I propose, therefore, to put the 
 property into the hands of trustees, to be disposed of by 
 them as exigencies may require. 
 
 " My affectionate wife, who has been to me a source of 
 so much happiness, must be tenderly provided for. Care 
 must be taken that she has some reasonable income. I 
 make this will upon the faith of what has been said to me 
 by friends, of means which will be found to carry out my 
 reasonable wishes. It is . best that Mrs. Webster's life- 
 interest in the two estates be purchased out. It must be 
 
148 THE LIFE AXD TIMES 
 
 seen wliat can be done with friends at Boston, and espe- 
 cially with the contributors to my life-annuity. My son-in- 
 law, Mr. Appleton, has generously requested me to pay 
 little regard to his interests, or to those of his children ; 
 but I must do something, and enough to manifest my Avarm 
 love and attachment to him and them. The property best 
 to be spared for the purpose of buying out Mrs. Webster's 
 life-interest under the marriage-settlement, is Franklin, 
 which is very valuable property, and which may be sold 
 under prudent management, or mortgaged for a conside- 
 rable sum. 
 
 " I have also a quantity of valuable land in Illinois, at 
 Peru, which ought to be immediately seen after. Mr. 
 Edward Curtis and Mr. Blatchford and Mr. Franklin 
 Haven know all about my large debts ; and they have un- 
 dertaken to see at once whether those can be provided for, 
 so that these purposes may probably be carried into effect. 
 
 "With these explanations, I now make the following 
 provisions, namely : 
 
 •'Item. I appoint my wif?, Caroline Le Roy Webster, 
 my son, Fletclier Webster, and R. M. Blatchford, Esquire, 
 of New York, to be the executors of this will. I wish my 
 said executors, and also the trustees hereinafter named, in 
 all things relating to finance and pecuniary matters, to 
 consult with my valued friend, Franklin Haven ; and in 
 all things respecting Marsbfield, with Charles Henry 
 Thomas, alwavs an intimnte friend, and one whom I love 
 for his own sake and that of his family ; and in all things 
 respecting FrankUn, with that true man, John Taylor ; 
 and I wish them to consult in all matters of law with my 
 brethren and highly-esteemed friends, Charles P. Curtis 
 and George T. Curtis. 
 
 " Item. I give and devise to James W. Paige and 
 Franklin Haven, of Boston, and Edward Curtis, of New 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 149 
 
 York, all my real estate in the towns of Marshfiekl, in tlio 
 State of Massachusetts, and Franklin, in the State of Nev 
 Hampshire, being the two estates above mentioned, to have 
 and to hold the same to them and their heirs and assigns 
 forever, upon the following trusts, namely : 
 
 ^^ First. To mortgage, sell, or lease so much thereof as 
 may be necessary to pay to my wife, Caroline Le Roy 
 Webster, the estimated value of her life-interest, heretofore 
 secured to her thereon by marriage-settlement, as is above 
 recited, if she shall elect to receive that valuation in place 
 of the security with which those estates now stand charged. 
 
 " Second!//. To pay to my said wife, from the rents and 
 profits and income of the said two estates, the further sum 
 of five hundred dollars per annum during her natural life. 
 
 '■'■Thirdhj. To hold, manage, and carry on the said two 
 estates, or so much thereof as may not be sold for the pur- 
 poses aforesaid, for the use of my son, Fletcher Webster, 
 during his natural life, and after his decease to convey 
 the same in fee to such of his male descendants as a 
 majority of the said trustees may elect, they acting therein 
 with my son's concurrence, if circumstances admit of his 
 expressing his wishes, otherwise acting upon their own dis- 
 cretion ; it being my desire that his son Ashburton Web- 
 ster take one, and his son Daniel Webster, Jr., the other 
 of the said estates. 
 
 " Item. I direct that my wnfe, Caroline Le Roy Web- 
 ster, have, and I hereby give to her, the right during her 
 life to reside in my mansion-house, at Mnrshfield, when 
 she wishes to do so, with my son, in case he may reside 
 there, or in his absence ; and this I do, not doubting my 
 son's affection for her or for me, but because it is due to 
 her that she should receive this right from her husband. 
 
 " Item. I give and bequeath to the said James W. 
 Paige, Franklin Haven, and Edward Curtis, all the Looks, 
 
 13* 
 
150 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 plate, pictures, statuary, and furniture, and other personal 
 property now in my Tuansion-house at Marshfield, except 
 such articles as are hereinafter otherwise disposed of, in 
 trust to preserve the same in the mansion-house for the use 
 of my son, Fletcher Wehster, during his life, and after his 
 decease to make over and deliver the same to the person 
 who Avill then become ' the owner of the estate of Marsh- 
 field,' it being my desire and intention that they remain 
 attached to the house while it is occupied by any of my 
 name and blood. 
 
 " Item. I give and bequeath to my said wife all my 
 furniture which she brought with her on her marriage, and 
 the silver plate purchased of Mr. Rush, for her own use. 
 
 " Item. I give, devise, and bequeath to my said exe- 
 cutors all my other real and personal estate, except such 
 as is hereafter described and otherwise disposed of, to be 
 applied to the execution of the general purposes of this 
 will, and to be sold and disposed of, or held and used at 
 Marshfield, as they and the said trustees may find to be 
 expedient. 
 
 "Item. I give and bequeath to my son, Fletcher "Web- 
 ster, all ray law-books, wherever situated, for his own use. 
 
 " Item. I give and bequeath to my son-in-law, Samuel 
 A. Apploton, my California watch and chain, for his own 
 
 use. 
 
 " Item. I give and bequeath to my grand-daughter, 
 Caroline Le Roy Appleton, the portrait of myself, by 
 Healy, which now liangs in the southeast parlor, at Marsh- 
 field, for her own use. 
 
 " Item. I give and bequeath to my grandson, Samuel 
 A. Appleton, my gold snuft'-box, with the head of General 
 Washington, all my fishing-tackle, and my Selden and 
 Wilmot guns, for his own use. 
 
 "Item. I give and bequeath to my grandson, Daniel 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 151 
 
 Webster Appleton, my Washington medals, for his own 
 use. 
 
 " Item. I give and bequeath to my grand-daughter, 
 Julia Webster Appleton, the clock presented to her grand- 
 mother by the late Hon. George Blake. 
 
 "ItExM. I appoint Edward Everett, George Ticknor, 
 Cornelius Conway Felton, and George Ticknor Curtis, to 
 be my literary executors ; and I direct my son, Fletcher 
 Webster, to seal up all my letters, manuscripts, and papers, 
 and at a proper time to select those relating to my personal 
 history and my professional and public life, which in his 
 judgment should be placed at their disposal, and to trans- 
 fer the same to them, to be used by them in such manner 
 as they may think fit. They may receive valuable aid 
 from my friend, George J. Abbott, Esq., now of the State 
 Department. 
 
 " My servant, William Johnson, is a free man. I bought 
 his freedom not long ago for six hundred dollars. No de- 
 mand is to be made upon him for any portion of this sum ; 
 but, so long as is agreeable, I hope he will remain with the 
 family. 
 
 "Item. Morricha McCarty, Sarah Smith, and Ann 
 Bean, colored persons, now also and for a long time in my 
 service, are all free. They are very Avell deserving, and 
 whoever comes after me must be kind to them. 
 
 " Item. I request that my said executors and trustees 
 be not required to give bonds for the performance of their 
 respective duties under this will. 
 
 " In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand 
 and seal, at Marshfield, and have published and declared 
 this to be my last will and testament, on the 21st day of 
 October, a.d. 1852." 
 
 The day after this will was written, but not signed or 
 executed, a very alarming symptom of Mr. Webster's dis- 
 
152 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 ease occurred. He suddenly vomited a large quantity of 
 blood. " That," said he to his attending physician, " is 
 the enemy : if you can conquer that" — here his utter- 
 ance was interrupted by a repetition of the attack. As 
 soon as the spasm had passed over, he summoned his 
 family around him, and executed his will, after having 
 ascertained that all its provisions were agreeable to those 
 who were interested in it. Having finished this important 
 matter, he remarked, " I thank God for strength to per- 
 form a sensible act," and then engaged in prayer. After 
 some minutes were spent in this exercise, he concluded by 
 exclaiming, " And now unto God, the Father, the Son, 
 and the Holy Ghost, be praise for evermore. Peace on 
 earth, and good will toward men. That is the happiness, — 
 the essence, — good will toward men." Observing the 
 anxious face of Dr. Jeffries, his attending physician, he 
 afterward said, " Doctor, you think I shall not be here in 
 the morning; but I shall: I shall greet the morning light." 
 His prophecy was true. He did see the morning light 
 once more ; and during the progress of the day he said to 
 the doctor, " Cheer up, doctor, cheer up : I shall not die 
 to-day. You will get me along to-day." On the morning 
 of Saturday, the 23d, he at last declared expressly to the 
 physician, '' I shall die to-night;'' and herein also the pre- 
 diction proved to be a true one. 
 
 The most curious incident in reference to the death of 
 Daniel Webster is the fact that he seemed to have resolved 
 to watch the process of his own dissolution ; to employ his 
 intellectual faculties in scrutinizing the successive steps 
 or progress of that mysterious and wondrous change which 
 takes place when the soul, gradually severing the bonds 
 which bind her to her tenement of clay, attains her disem- 
 bodied state, terminates her direct contact and relation to 
 things temporal and material, and passes away to experience 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 153 
 
 and explore the realities of another world. Of no other 
 mortal, either distinguished or obscure, is a similar eccen- 
 tricity recorded ; but it is precisely such a development of 
 mental power and tendency which might have been ex- 
 pected from Daniel Webster. Accordingly, during the 
 downward progress of his disease, he continued to watch 
 every symptom ; and his intellectual faculties, instead of 
 becoming Aveaker, dimmer, fainter, as the great crisis ap- 
 proached, seemed to retain their customary power. How 
 far this colossal intellect was able to carry its conscious 
 scrutiny of its own experiences into the solemn and marvel- 
 lous mysteries of death, it is impossible to say ; nor can 
 any process of reasoning prove that this scrutiny might 
 not have been persisted in, even till the termination of the 
 struggle of dissolving nature, and till the full freedom 
 of the disembodied spirit had been attained ; but it is 
 evident that Mr, Webster's singular display of conscious 
 thought and watchful observation continued much longer 
 and farther within the dark valley and shadow of death 
 than that recorded of any other human being ; and that, 
 until the body lost all power of movement and sensation, 
 his mind, the inward yet departing sentinel, continued to 
 use it as a means of indicating outwardly to those around 
 him, the existence of his consciousness and of his observa- 
 tion of his progressing state. His last words, as if in- 
 tended to assure those who were near him that though his 
 body was dying his mind did not share in its decay, were, 
 " I still live !" His spirit ascended to the God who gave 
 it, with all its vast capacities, at twenty-three minutes be- 
 fore three o'clock on the morning of the 24th of October, 
 1852. He was in the seventy-first year of his age. 
 
 As a whole, the character of Daniel Webster is one of 
 the most massive and remarkable which the history of 
 our country has produced ; while his career presents a 
 
1.14 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 fulness and completeness which have fallen to the lot of 
 very few great men, and which are highl}^ pleasing to the 
 mind of the thoughtful observer. Mr, Webster was the 
 Alexander Hamilton of the second era of the history of 
 this Confederacy ; and he resembled that illustrious orator 
 and statesman in many important points of his intellectual 
 and personal character. Hamilton's was the most original 
 and powerful intellect of his era ; and the same pre-emi- 
 nence belongs to Mr. Webster. Hamilton's mind possessed 
 great variety and diversity of faculties ; and so also did 
 Mr. Webster's. As no other American statesman could 
 have written those portions of the Federalist which 
 Hamilton contributed, so no statesman of Webster's era 
 could have delivered his speech in reply to Hayne, or on 
 the Compromise measures. Both of these men were 
 eminent as lawyers, as political orators, as the originators 
 of new expedients, and as general scholars. Hamilton's 
 mind was the more fertile, the more elastic, the more 
 brilliant, of the two ; Webster's was the more colossal, 
 the more ponderous, slower in movement, but perhaps 
 ultimately more powerful in effect. Unhappily for Hamil- 
 ton, his brilliant career was cut short when in the acme 
 of its splendor, by the hand of death ; while Mr. Web- 
 ster's was fortunately continued during a long series of 
 years, until the usual limit of man's existence. And as 
 no human character is perfect, or free from some shadow 
 of defect, it deserves to be noted that even the single 
 vice of which both these great men were charged was the 
 same ; for both were unduly influenced by the potent yet 
 perverted fascinations of the gentler and fairer sex. 
 
 Among the prominent personal traits of Mr. Webster 
 may be mentioned his fondness for the details and experi- 
 ments of agriculture. On that subject his conversation 
 was always remarkably interesting and instructive. His 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 155 
 
 farm at Marslifield was tilled in an admirable manner; 
 and he introduced every new improvement, and imported 
 the best breeds of cattle, from foreign countries, with the 
 interest of the most enthusiastic connoisseur. He had 
 spent his youth amid the bracing and healthful occupations 
 of husbandry ; and he ever afterward retained a fond at- 
 tachment for the associations and experiences of the 
 farm-house, the country, and the rural solitude. 
 
 He was also a great lover of books ; and a large apart- 
 ment in his house at Marshfield was appropriated to the 
 use of his library. This was a very extensive and valuable 
 one, comprising some thousands of volumes in every de- 
 partment of science and learning ; and its cost to him was 
 nearly thirty thousand dollars. His amusements were 
 such as became so remarkable a man ; for he delighted in 
 the quiet excitement of fishing with all the ardor of Izaac 
 Walton himself. The restless billows of old ocean lave 
 the outskirts of his farm at Marshfield; and on its tempest- 
 beaten strand the great statesman delighted often to wan- 
 der alone, to gaze upon its far-extending and ever-shifting 
 expanse of waters, and to listen to the mournful music of its 
 multitudinous murmurs. What an interesting sight must 
 that have been to the curious stranger who may have come 
 from a distance to see the illustrious statesman, to behold 
 his portly form for the first time, alone on the sandy 
 beach, gazing thoughtfully out upon the wide waste of 
 waters, and lost in meditations, reflections, and reminis- 
 cences such as those in Avhich he only could have indulged ! 
 Not even Marius sitting in solitude amid the ruins of 
 Carthage, nor Napoleon standing on the rocky and beetling 
 cliffs of St. Helena, presents to our mind a more impressive 
 or interesting picture. 
 
 One great merit of Mr. Webster's mental character was 
 the admirable proportion of all his faculties. Other jurists 
 
156 THE LIFE AND TIMES 
 
 in the land have possessed more legal learning ; other 
 orators have uttered more moving, rhapsodical, popular 
 eloquence ; other politicians have shown more tact, and 
 more insight into the perfidious workings of human nature, 
 as developed by the vicissitudes of party ; other savans 
 have had more scientific culture ; but as a complete and 
 majestic whole, Mr. Webster had no equal in the history of 
 his times for an assemblage of great and rare qualities com- 
 bined together in one intellect. No other man possessed 
 so many diff"erent great faculties developed to the same 
 wondrous and extreme degree. 
 
 As an orator, Mr. Webster's manner did not exhibit the 
 same winning and mellifluous fluency which characterized 
 the speeches of Henry Clay. On ordinary occasions his 
 delivery Avas rather dull and heavy ; but Avhen fully 
 aroused by the exigencies of some important crisis, then 
 he Avas matchless. He Avas a giant, who launched his 
 forensic thunderbolts with a degree of power which no 
 other orator of modern times possessed. His speeches 
 always read to advantage when printed, which effect re- 
 sulted from the inherent substance and superior value 
 which they contained ; whereas the orations of Mr. Clay 
 lost their most potent charm and their greatest merit the 
 moment they Avere committed to paper. The reason of 
 this peculiarity was, because with Mr. Clay the chief ex- 
 cellence Avas the delivery ; with Mr. Webster the main 
 value was the substance. Yet the speeches of Mr. Web- 
 ster AATre not devoid of the beauties of the imagination ; 
 for he was a lover of poetry, Avas familiar Avith the best 
 productions of the modern muse, and frequently quoted 
 select and appropriate passages from his favorite authors 
 with great eflfect and propriety. His memory, indeed, 
 was accurate and tenacious to a very rare degree ; and it 
 
OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 157 
 
 was richly stored with all the treasures of varied know- 
 ledge. 
 
 As a reasoner, Mr, Webster was a match even for the 
 great master of logic in the Senate, Mr. John C. Calhoun. 
 In all his arguments and combats with that able man, 
 he ever proved his superiority to him, even on his favorite 
 field of intellectual effort. No sophistry could blind him ; 
 no metaphysical labyrinth of specious ratiocination could 
 mislead or delude him as to the true fact or principles in- 
 volved in the case. He probed to the bottom of every 
 subject, and brought up the gem of truth to the light of 
 day, however deeply it may have laid embedded in the 
 depths of the abyss of error and of falsehood. When 
 occasion called for the display of sarcasm and invective, 
 no orator could ever exceed him in the use of those 
 formidable and terrible weapons. Let the discomfiture 
 of Mr. Hayne, and the obliteration of Mr. Ingersoll, bear 
 witness to his destructive power in this respect. In 
 general, he was mild and courteous in his intercourse with 
 his fellow-men, and was ever ready to extend the generous 
 hand of charity to those who might desire or request hi^ 
 interposition. At the same time, he was dauntless anc 
 full of fortitude. No opposition or hostile combinatioi 
 could terrify or move him. At one time a ponderou- 
 load of public opprobrium and censure lay upon hi'i 
 shoulders, — a fate which also fell to the lot of Henry 
 Clay at a certain period of his career; but he bore tha: 
 burden, as did the great Kentucky statesman, as superior 
 and powerful natures always endure calamities and vicis- 
 situdes of that description, with a dignified, undaunted, 
 and defiant self-reliance, not unmingled with contempt for 
 his persecutors, which sustained him successfully even 
 during his darkest hour. As the expounder and defender 
 of the Federal Constitution, he wns unrivalled; :ind his 
 
 14 
 
158 THE LIFE AND TIMES OF DANIEL WEBSTEPw 
 
 judgments and opinions on that important subject will 
 always remain indisputable and unanswerable dicta^ for the 
 future guidance and instruction of his countrymen. 
 
 The contemplation of the fame of such a man is a 
 pleasing theme for those who rejoice in the excellence and 
 elevation of human nature. It shows us how great, how 
 noble, how powerful, humanity can become, and reminds 
 us that, while the history of the race is filled with count- 
 less proofs of its imbecility, misery, and degradation, such 
 defects are not inherent in the nature and destiny of 
 humanity ; but that it may, and it sometimes does, rise in 
 majesty and grandeur to an equality even with angels. 
 Mr. Webster's fame is immortal; for it is indissolubly 
 identified with the growing greatness of that vast Con- 
 federacy whose federal unity in critical times he more than 
 once preserved from ruin. He needs no better monument 
 than the living and perpetual memory of his own great 
 thoughts and deeds. Men may erect statues to his honor ; 
 the sculptor may transfer to the speaking marble the 
 faultless semblance of his person ; the skilful painter may 
 depict on the breathing canvas that form and those fea- 
 tures which overawed and impressed his own generation 
 with a clear consciousness of his vast superiority ; all 
 these expedients are useless ; for, though dead, he yet 
 speaketh ; and he will continue to speak, until the last 
 hour of recorded time, as one of the most profound, most 
 patriotic, and most eloquent of Americans. 
 
SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 I. 
 
 MR. WEBSTER'S REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 
 
 In the United States Senate, January 26, 1830. 
 
 Following Mr, Hayne in the debate, Mr. Webster ad- 
 dressed the Senate as follows : 
 
 Mr, President : When the mariner has been tossed, for 
 many days, in thick weather, and on an unknown sea, he 
 naturally avails himself of the first pause in the storm, 
 the earliest glance of the sun, to take his latitude, and 
 ascertain how far the elements have driven him from his 
 true course. Let us imitate this prudence, and, before we 
 float farther, refer to the point from which we departed, 
 that we may at least be able to conjecture where we now 
 are. I ask for the reading of the resolution. 
 [The Secretary read the resolution, as follows : 
 ^'■Resolved., That the committee on public lands be in- 
 structed to inquire and report the quantity of the public 
 lands remaining unsold within each State and Territory, 
 and whether it be expedient to limit, for a certain period, 
 the sales of the public lands to such lands only as have 
 heretofore been offered for sale and are now subject to 
 entry at the minimum price. And, also, whether the office 
 of surveyor-general, and some of the land-offices, may not 
 
 169 
 
IGO SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 be abolished without detriment to the public interest; or 
 whether it be expedient to adopt measures to hasten the 
 sales and extend more rapidly the surveys of the public 
 lands."] 
 
 We have thus heard, sir, what the resolution is, which 
 is actually before us for consideration ; and it will readily 
 occur to every one that it is almost the only subject about 
 which something has not been said in the speech, running 
 through two days, by which the Senate has been now enter- 
 tained by the gentleman from South Carolina. Every 
 topic in the wide range of our public affairs, whether past 
 or present, — every thing, general or local, whether belong- 
 ing to national politics or party politics, — seems to have 
 attracted more or less of the honorable member's attention, 
 save only the resolution before us. He has spoken of 
 every thing but the public lands. They have escaped his 
 notice. To that subject, in all his excursions, he has not 
 paid even the cold respect of a passing glance. 
 
 When this debate, sir, was to be resumed, on Thursday 
 morning, it so happened that it would have been convenient 
 for me to be elsewhere. The honorable member, however, 
 did not incline to put off the discussion to another day. 
 He had a shot, he said, to return, and he wished to dis- 
 charge it. That shot, sir, which it was kind thus to inform 
 us was coming, that we might stand out of the way, or 
 prepare ourselves to fall before it, and die with decency, 
 has now been received. Under all advantages, and with 
 expectation awakened by the tone which preceded it, it has 
 been discharged, and has spent its force. It may become 
 me to say no more of its effect than that, if nobody is 
 found, after all, either killed or wounded by it, it is not the 
 first time in the history of human affairs that the vigor and 
 success of the war have not quite come up to the lofty and 
 sounding phrase of the manifesto. 
 
REPLY TO MK. HAYNE. 161 
 
 The gentleman, sir, in declining to postpone the debate, 
 told the Senate, with the emphasis of his hand upon his 
 heart, that there was something rankling here^ which he 
 wished to relieve. [Mr. Hayne rose and disclaimed having 
 used the word rankling.'] It would not, Mr. President, be 
 safe for the honorable member to appeal to those around 
 him, upon the question whether he did, in fact, make use 
 of that word. But he may have been unconscious of it. 
 At any rate, it is enough that he disclaims it. But still, 
 with or without the use of that particular word, he had yet 
 something here, he said, of which he wished to rid himself 
 by an immediate reply. In this respect, sir, I have a great 
 advantage over the honorable gentleman. There is nothing 
 here, sir, which gives me the slightest uneasiness ; neither 
 fear, nor anger, nor that which is sometimes more trouble- 
 some than either, — the consciousness of having been in the 
 wrong. There is nothing either originating here, or now 
 received here by the gentleman's shot. Nothing original, 
 for I had not the slightest feeling of disrespect or unkind- 
 ness toward the honorable member. Some passages, it is 
 true, had occurred, since our acquaintance in this body, 
 which I could have wished might have been otherwise ; but 
 I had used philosophy, and forgotten them. When the 
 honorable member rose, in his first speech, I paid him the 
 respect of attentive listening ; and when he sat down, 
 though surprised, and I must say even astonished, at some 
 of his opinions, nothing was further from my intention 
 than to commence any personal warfare ; and through the 
 whole of the few remarks I made in answer, I avoided, 
 studiously and carefully, every thing which I thought pos- 
 sible to be construed into disrespect. And, sir, while there 
 is thus nothing originating here, which I wished at any time, 
 or now wish, to discharge, I must repeat, also, that nothing 
 has been received here which rankles, or in any way gives 
 
 14* 
 
l!J2 SPEECHfc]S OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 me annoyance. I will not accuse the honorable member 
 of violating the rules of civilized war : I will not say that 
 he poisoned his arrows. But whether his shafts were, or 
 were not, dipped in that which would have caused rankling 
 if they had reached, there was not, as it happened, quite 
 strength enough in the bow to bring them to their mark. 
 If he wishes now to find those shafts, he must look for 
 them elsewhere : they will not be found fixed and quivering 
 in the object at which they were aimed. 
 
 The honorable member complained that I had slept on 
 his speech. I must have slept on it, or not slept at all. 
 The moment the honorable member sat down, his friend 
 from Missouri rose, and, with much honeyed commendation 
 of the speech, suggested that the impressions which it had 
 produced were too charming and delightful to be disturbed 
 by other sentiments or other sounds, and proposed that 
 the Senate should adjourn. Would it have been quite 
 amiable in me, sir, to interrupt this excellent good feeling ? 
 Must I not have been absolutely malicious, if I could have 
 thrust myself forward to destroy sensations thus pleasing? 
 Was it not much better and kinder, both to sleep upon 
 them myself, and to allow others, also, the pleasure of 
 sleeping upon them ? But if it be meant, by sleeping 
 upon his speech, that I took time to prepare a reply to it, 
 it is quite a mistake. Owing to other engagements, I could 
 not employ even the interval between the adjournment of 
 the Senate and its meeting the next morning in attention 
 to the subject of this debate. Nevertheless, sir, the mere 
 matter of fact is undoubtedly true : I did sleep on the 
 gentleman's speech, and slept soundly. And I slept 
 equally well on his speech of yesterday, to which I am 
 now replying. It is quite possible that, in this respect 
 also, I possess some advantage over the honorable member, 
 attributable, doubtless, to a cooler temperament on my 
 
REPLY TO MK. HAYNE. 163 
 
 part ; for, in truth, I slept upon his speeches remarkably 
 well. But the gentleman inquires wlij he was made the 
 object of such a reply. Why was he singled out ? If an 
 attack had been made on the East, he, he assures us, did 
 not begin it : it was the gentleman from Missouri. Sir, I 
 answered the gentleman's speech because I happened to 
 hear it ; and because, also, I chose to give an answer ta 
 that speech, which, if unanswered, I thought most likely\ 
 to produce injurious impressions. I did not stop to inquire \ 
 who was the original drawer of the bill. I found a respon- \ 
 sible endorser before me, and it was my purpose to hold 
 him reliable, and to bring him to his just responsibility 
 without delay. But, sir, this interrogatory of the honor- 
 able member was only introductory to another. He pro- 
 ceeded to ask me whether I had turned upon him in this 
 debate from the consciousness that I should find an over- 
 match if I ventured on a contest with his friend from Mis- 
 souri. If, sir, the honorable member, ex gratia modestice, 
 had chosen thus to defer to his friend, and to pay him a 
 compliment, without intentional disparagement to others, 
 it would have been quite according to the friendly courte- 
 sies of debate, and not at all ungrateful to my own feelino-s. 
 I am not one of those, sir, who esteem any tribute of regard, 
 whether light and occasional, or more serious and delibe- 
 rate, which may be bestowed on others, as so much unjustly 
 withholden from themselves. But the tone and manner of 
 the gentleman's question forbid me thus to interpret it. I 
 am not at liberty to consider it as nothing more than a 
 civility to his friend. It had an air of taunt and disparage- 
 ment, a little of the loftiness of asserted superiority, which 
 does not allow me to pass it over without notice. It was 
 put as a question for me to answer, and so put as if it were 
 difficult for me to answer, whether I deemed the member 
 from Missouri an overmatch for myself in debate here. It 
 
104 SPEECHES OF DANIEL AVEBSTER. 
 
 seems to me, sir, that is extraordinary language, and an 
 extraordinary tone for the discussions of this body. 
 
 Matches and overmatches ! Those terms are more ap- 
 plicable elsewhere than here, and fitter for other assemblies 
 than this. Sir, the gentleman seems to forget where and 
 what we are. This is a Senate ; a Senate of equals ; of men 
 of individual honor and personal character, and of absolute 
 independence. We know no masters ; we acknowledge no 
 dictators. This is a hall for mutual consultation and dis- 
 cussion, not an arena for the exhibition of champions. I 
 offer myself, sir, as a match for no man ; I throw the chal- 
 lenge of debate at no man's feet. But then, sir, since the 
 honorable member has put the question in a manner that 
 calls for an answer, I will give him an answer ; and I tell 
 him that, holding myself to be the humblest of the members 
 here, I yet know nothing in the arm of his friend from Mis- 
 souri, either alone or when aided by the arm of his friend 
 from South Carolina,, that need deter even me from espous- 
 ing whatever opinions I may choose to espouse, from debat- 
 ing whenever I may choose to debate, or from speaking 
 whatever I may see fit to say on the floor of the Senate. Sir, 
 when uttered as matter of commendation or compliment, I 
 should dissent from nothing which the honorable member 
 might say of his friend. Still less do I put forth any pre- 
 tensions of my own. But when put to me as matter of 
 taunt, I throw it back, and say to the gentleman that he 
 could possibly say nothing less likely than such a com- 
 parison to wound my pride of personal character. The 
 anger of its tone rescued the remark from intentional 
 irony, which otherwise, probably, would have been its 
 general acceptation. But, sir, if it be imagined that by 
 this mutual quotation and commendation ; if it be sup- 
 posed that, by casting the characters of the drama, assign- 
 ing to each his part, — to one the attack, to another the 
 
KEPLY TO MR, HAYNE. ] (J5 
 
 ci-y of onset, — or if it be thought that bj ca loud and 
 empty vaunt of anticipated victory any laurels are to be 
 won here ; if it be imagined, especially, that any or all 
 these things will shake any purpose of mine, I can tell 
 the honorable member, once for all, that he is greatly mis- 
 taken, and that he is dealing with one of whose temper 
 and character he has yet much to learn. Sir, I shall not 
 allow myself, on this occasion, — I hope on no occasion, — 
 to be betrayed into any loss of temper ; but if provoked, 
 as I trust I never shall allow myself to be, into crimina- 
 tion and recrimination, the honorable member may, per- 
 haps, find that in that contest there will be blows to take 
 as well as blows to give ; that others can state comparisons 
 as significant, at least, as his own ; and that his impunity 
 may, perhaps, demand of him whatever powers of taunt 
 and sarcasm he may possess. I commend him to a pru- 
 dent husbandry of his resources. 
 
 But, sir, the coalition ! The coalition ! Av, " the mur- 
 dered coalition !" The gentleman asks if I were led or 
 frighted into this debate by the spectre of the coalition. 
 " Was it the ghost of the murdered coalition," he exclaims, 
 "which haunted the member from Massachusetts, and 
 which, like the ghost of Banquo, would never down ?" 
 " The murdered coalition!" Sir, this charge of coalition, 
 in reference to the late administration, is not original with 
 the honorable member. It did not spring up in the Senate. 
 Whether as a fact, as an argument, or as an embellishment, 
 it is all borrowed. He adopts it, indeed, from a very low 
 origin, and a still lower present condition. It is one of 
 the thousand calumnies with which the press teemed during 
 an excited political canvass. It was a charge of which 
 there was not only no proof or probability, but which was, 
 in itself, wholly impossible to be true. No man of com- . 
 mon information ever believed a syllable of it. Yet it was 
 
I(i6 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 of that class of falsehoods which, by continued repetition 
 through all the organs of detraction and abuse, are capa- 
 ble of misleading those who are already far misled, and 
 of further fanning passion already kindled into flame. 
 Doubtless it served its day, and, in a greater or less 
 degree, the end designed by it. Having done that, it has 
 sunk into the general mass of stale and loathed calumnies. 
 It is the very cast-off slough of a polluted and shameless 
 press. Incapable of further mischief, it lie^ in the sewer, 
 lifeless and despised. It is not now, sir, in the power of 
 the honorable member to give it dignity or decency, by at- 
 tempting to elevate it, and to introduce it into the Senate. 
 He cannot change it from what it is, — an object of general 
 disgust and scorn. On the contrary, the contact, if he 
 choose to touch it, is more likely to drag him down, down, 
 to the place where it lies itself. 
 
 But, sir, the honorable member was not, for other 
 reasons, entirely happy in his allusion to the story of 
 Banquo's murder and Banquo's ghost. It was not, I 
 think, the friends, but the enemies of the murdered 
 Banquo, at whose bidding his spirit Avould not down. The 
 honorable gentleman is fresh in his reading of the English 
 classics, and can put me right if I am wrong ; but, ac- 
 cording to my poor recollection, it was at those who had 
 beffun with caresses, and ended with foul and treacherous 
 murder, that the gory locks were shaken. The ghost of 
 Banquo, like that of Hamlet, was an honest ghost. It 
 disturbed no innocent man. It knew where its appearance 
 would strike terror, and who would cry out, A ghost ! It 
 made itself visible in the right quarter, and compelled the 
 guilty and the conscience-smitten, and none ,others, to 
 start, with 
 
 " Prithee, see there ! behold ! — look ! lo ! 
 K I stand here, I saw him !" 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 167 
 
 Their eyeballs were seared — was it not so, sir ? — who had 
 thought to shield themselves by concealing their own hand, 
 and laying the imputation of the crime on a low and hire- 
 ling agency in wickedness ; who had vainly attempted to 
 stifle the workings of their own coward consciences, by 
 ejaculating, through white lips and chattering teeth, 
 " Thou canst not say I did it !" I have misread the 
 great poet, if it was those who had noway partaken in 
 the deed of death, who either found that they were, or 
 f eared that they should he, pushed from their stools by the 
 ghost of the slain, or who cried out to a spectre created 
 by their own fears and their own remorse, " Avaunt I and 
 quit our sight !" 
 
 There is another particular, sir, in which the honorable 
 member's quick perception of resemblances might, I should 
 think, have seen something in the story of Banquo, makino- 
 it not altogether a subject of the most pleasant contempla- 
 tion. Those who murdered Banquo, what did they win by 
 it ? Substantial good ? Permanent power ? Or disappoint- 
 ment, rather, and sore mortification — dust and ashes — the 
 common fate of vaulting ambition overleaping itself ? Did 
 not even-handed justice, ere long, commend the poisoned 
 chalice to their own lips ? Did they not soon find that for 
 another they had "filed their mind"? — that their ambi- 
 tion, though apparently for the moment successful, had 
 but put a barren sceptre in their grasp ? Ay, sir, — 
 
 " A barren sceptre in their gripe, 
 
 Thence to he wrencKd by an unlineal hand, 
 No son of theirs sitcceedhiff." 
 
 Sir, I need pursue the allusion no further. I leave the 
 honorable gentleman to run it out at his leisure, and to 
 derive from it all the gratification it is calculated to ad- 
 minister. If he finds himself pleased with the associa- 
 
168 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 tions, and prepared to be quite satisfied, though the 
 parallel should be entirely completed, I had almost said 
 I am satisfied also ; but that I shall think of. Yes, sir, I 
 ■will think of that. 
 
 In the course of my observations the other day, Mr. 
 President, I paid a passing tribute of respect to a very 
 worthy man, Mr. Dane, of Massachusetts. It so hap- 
 pened, that he drew the ordinance of 1787 for the govern- 
 ment of the Northwestern Territory. A man of so much 
 ability, and so little pretence ; of so great a capacity to 
 do good, and so unmixed a disposition to do it for its own 
 sake ; a gentleman who acted an important part, forty 
 years ago, in a measure the influence of which is still 
 deeply felt in the very matter which was the subject of 
 debate, might, I thought, receive from me a commendatory 
 recognition. 
 
 But the honorable member was inclined to be facetious 
 on the subject. He was rather disposed to make it matter 
 of ridicule that I had introduced into the debate the name 
 of one Nathan Dane, of whom he assures us he had never 
 before heard. Sir, if the honorable member had never 
 before heard of Mr. Dane, I am sorry for it. It shows 
 him less acquainted with the public men of the country 
 than I had supposed. Let me tell him, however, that a 
 sneer from him at the mention of the name of Mr. Dane 
 is in bad taste. It may well be a high mark of ambition, 
 sir, either with the honorable^ gentleman or myself, to ac- 
 complish as much to make our names known to advantage, 
 and remembered with gratitude, as Mr. Dane has accom- 
 plished. But the truth is, sir, I suspect Mr, Dane lives 
 a little too far north. He is of Massachusetts, and too 
 near the North Star to be reached by the honorable gentle- 
 man's telescope. If his sphere had happened to range 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 169 
 
 south of Mason and Dixon's line, lie might, probably, have 
 come within the scope of his vision > 
 
 I spoke, sir, of the ordinance of 1787, which prohibited 
 slavery in all future time northwest of the Ohio, as a measure 
 of great wisdom and foresight, and one which hsid been 
 attended with highly beneficial and permanent conse- 
 quences. I supposed that on this point no two gentle- 
 men in the Senate could entertain different opinions. But 
 the simple expression of this sentiment has led the gentle- 
 man, not only into a labored Mefence of slavery in the 
 abstract, and on principle, but also into a warm accusation 
 against me, as having attacked the system of domestic 
 slavery now existing in the Southern States. For all this 
 there was not the slightest foundation in any thing said or 
 intimated by me. I did not utter a single word which 
 any ingenuity could torture into an attack on the slavery 
 of the South. I said only that it was highly wise and 
 useful, in legislating for the Northwestern country, while 
 it was yet a wilderness, to prohibit the introduction of 
 slaves ; and added, that I presumed, in the neighboring 
 State of Kentucky, there was no reflecting and intelligent 
 gentleman who would doubt that, if the same prohibition 
 had been extended, at the same early period, over that 
 commonwealth, her strength and population would, at this 
 day, have been far greater than they are. If these 
 opinions be thought doubtful, they are, nevertheless, I 
 trust, neither extraordinary nor disrespectful. They at- 
 tack nobody and menace nobody. And yet, sir, the 
 gentleman's optics have discovered, even in the mere ex- 
 pression of this sentiment, what he calls the ver^- spirit of 
 the Missouri question ! He represents me as making an 
 onset on the whole Soutb, and manifesting a spirit which 
 would interfere with and disturb their domestic condition. 
 Sir, this injustice no otherwise surprises me than as it is 
 
 15 
 
170 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 I 
 
 done here, and done witliout the slightest pretence of 
 ground for it. I say it oiilj surprises me as being done 
 here ; for I know full well that it is and has been the 
 settled policy of some persons in the South, for years, to 
 represent the people of the North as disposed to inter- 
 fere with them in their own exclusive and peculiar con- 
 cerns. This is a delicate and sensitive point in Southern 
 feeling ; and of late years it has always been touched, 
 and generally with effect, whenever the object has been 
 to unite the whole South against Northern men or 
 Northern measures. This feeling, always carefully kept 
 alive, and maintained at too intense a heat to admit dis- 
 crimination or reflection, is a lever of great power in our 
 political machine. It moves vast bodies, and gives to 
 them one and the same direction. But tlie feeling is 
 without adequate cause, and the suspicion which exists 
 wholly groundless. There is not, and never has been, a 
 disposition in the North to interfere with these interests 
 of the South. Such interference has never been supposed 
 to be within the power of Government, nor has it been in 
 any way attempted. It has always been regarded as a 
 matter of domestic policy, left wiih the States themselves, 
 and with which the Federal Government had nothing to 
 do. Certainly, sir, I am, and ever have been, of that 
 opinion. The gentleman, indeed, argues that slavery in 
 the abstract is no evil. Most assuredly I need not say I 
 diff'er with him altogether and most widely on that point. 
 I regard domestic slavery as one of the greatest of evils, 
 both moral and political. But, though it be a malady, 
 and whether it be curable, and if so, by what means, or, 
 on the other hand, whether it be the vulnus immedicabile 
 of the social system, I leave it to those whose right and 
 duty it is to inquire and to decide. And this I believe. 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 171 
 
 sir, is, and uniformly lias been, the sentiment of the 
 North. Let us look a little at the history of this matter. 
 
 When the present Constitution was submitted for i'e 
 ratification of the people, there were those who imagined 
 that the powers of the government which it proposed to 
 establish might, perhaps, in some possible mode, be exerted 
 in measures tending to the abolition of slavery. This 
 suggestion would, of course, attract much attention in the 
 Southern conventions. In that of Virginia, Governor 
 Eandolph said, 
 
 " I hope there is none here, who, considering the subject 
 in the calm light of philosoph}^, Avill make an objection 
 dishonorable to Virginia — that, at the moment they are 
 securing the rights of their citizens, an objection is started, 
 that there is a spark of hope that those unfortunate men 
 now held in bondage may, by the operation of the General 
 Government, be made free." 
 
 At the very first Congress, petitions on the subject were 
 presented, if I mistake not, from different States. The 
 Pennsylvania Society for Promoting the Abolition of 
 Slavery took a lead, and laid before Congress a memorial, 
 praying Congress to promote the abolition by such pov. ers 
 as it possessed. This memorial was referred, in the House 
 of Representatives, to a select committee, consisting of Mr. 
 Foster, of New Hampshire, Mr. Gei-ry, of Massachusetts, 
 Mr. Huntington, of Connecticut, Mr. Lawrence, of New 
 York, Mr. Sinnickson, of New Jersey, Mr. Hartley, of 
 Pennsylvania, and Mr. Parker, of Virginia ; all of them, 
 sir, as you will observe, Northern men, but the last. This 
 committee made a report, which was committed to a com- 
 mittee of the whole House, and there considereij and dis- 
 cussed on several days ; and being amended, although in 
 no material respect, it was made to express three distinct 
 propositions on the subjects of slavery and the slave-trade. 
 
172 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 First, in the words of the Constitution, that Congress 
 could not, prior to the year 1808, prohibit the migration 
 or importation of such persons as any of the States then 
 existing should think proper to admit. Second, that Con- 
 gress had authority to restrain the citizens of the United 
 States from carrying on the African slave-trade for the 
 purpose of supplying foreign countries. On this proposi- 
 tion, our early laws against those who engage in that traffic 
 are founded. The third proposition, and that which bears 
 on the present question, was expressed in the following 
 
 terms : 
 
 ^^llesolved, That Congress have no authority to interfere 
 in the emancipation of slaves, or in the treatment of them 
 in any of the States ; it remaining with the several States 
 alone to provide rules and regulations therein which 
 humanity and true policy may require." 
 
 Tills resolution received the sanction of the House of 
 Pvepresentatives so early as March, 1790. And now, sir, 
 the honorable member will allow me to remind him, that 
 not only were the select committee who reported the resolu- 
 tion, with a single exception, all Northern men, but also 
 that of the members then composing the House of Repre- 
 sentatives, a large majority, I believe nearly two-thirds, 
 were Northern men also. 
 
 The House agreed to insert these resolutions in its 
 journal; and, from that day to this, it has never been 
 maintained or contended that Congress had any authority 
 to regulate or interfere with the condition of slaves in the 
 several States. No Northern gentleman, to my know- 
 ledge, has moved any such question in either House of 
 Congress. 
 
 The fears of the South, whatever fears they might have 
 entertained, were allayed and quieted by this early deci- 
 sion ; and so remained, till they were excited afresh, with- 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 173 
 
 out rause, but for collateral and indirect purposes. When 
 it became necessary, or was thought so, by some political 
 persons, to find an unvarying ground for the exclusion of 
 Northern men from confidence and from lead in the affairs 
 of the Republic, then, and not till then, the cry was raised, 
 and the feeling industriously excited, that the influence of 
 Northern men in the public councils would endanger the 
 relation of master and slave. For myself, I claim no other 
 merit, than that this gross and enormous injustice toward 
 the whole North has not wrought upon me to change my 
 opinions, or my political conduct. I hope I am above 
 violating my principles, even under the smart of injury 
 and false imputations. Unjust suspicions and undeserved 
 reproach, whatever pain I may experience from them, will 
 not induce me, I trust, nevertheless, to overstep the limits 
 of constitutional duty, or to encroach on the rights of 
 others. The domestic slavery of the South I leave where 
 I find it — in tlie hands of their own Governments. It is 
 their affair, not mine. Nor do I complain of the peculiar 
 effect which the magnitude of that population has had in 
 the distribution of power under this Federal Government. 
 We know, sir, that the representation of the States in tlie 
 other House is not equal. We know that great advantage 
 in that respect is enjoyed by the slaveholding States; and 
 we know, too, that the intended equivalent for that advan- 
 tage — that is to say, the imposition of direct taxes in the 
 same ratio — has become merely nominal; the habit of the 
 Government being almost invariably to collect, its revenues 
 from other sources and in other modes. Nevertheless, I 
 do not complain; nor would I countenance any movement 
 to alter this arrangement of representation. It is the 
 original bargain, the compact: let it stand; let the advan- 
 tage of it be fully enjoyed. The Union itself is too full 
 
 of benefit to be hazarded in propositions for changing its 
 
 15 « 
 
174 SPEECHES OF DANIKL WEBSTER. 
 
 original basis. I go for the Constitution as it is, and for 
 the Union as it is. But 1 am resolved not to submit, in 
 silence, to accusations, either against myself individually, 
 or against the North, wholly unfounded and unjust — ac- 
 cusations "which impute to us a disposition to evade the 
 constitutional compact and to extend the power of the 
 Government over the internal laws and domestic condition 
 of the States. All such accusations, wherever and when- 
 ever made, all insinuations of the existence of any such 
 purposes, I know and feel to be groundless and injurious. 
 And we must confide in Southern gentlemen themselves ; 
 we must trust to those whose integrity of heart and mag- 
 nanimity of feeling will lead them to a desire to maintain 
 and disseminate truth, and who possess the means of its 
 diffusion with the Southern public ; we must leave it to 
 them to disabuse that public of its prejudices. But in the 
 mean time, for my own part, I shall continue to act justly, 
 whether those toward whom justice is exercised receive it 
 with candor or with contumely. 
 
 Having htd occasion to recur to the ordinance of 1787, 
 in order to defend myself against the inferences which the 
 honorable member has chosen to draw from my former ob- 
 servations on that subject, I am not willing now entirely 
 to take leave of it without another remark. It need hardly 
 be said, Lhat that paper expresses just sentiments on the 
 great subject of civil and religious liberty. Such senti- 
 ments were common, and abound in all our State papers 
 of that day. But this ordinance did that which was not so 
 common, and which is not, even now, universal ; tliat is, it 
 set forth and declared, as a high and binding duty of Gro- 
 verwaent itself, to encourage schools and advance the 
 means of educa'ion; on the plain reason that religion, 
 morality, and knowledge are necessary to good govern- 
 ment and the h.ip[)iiioss of mankind. One observation 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 175 
 
 further. The important provision incorporated into the 
 Constitution of the United States, and several of those of 
 the States, and recently, as we have seen, adopted into the 
 reformed Constitution of Virginia, restraining legislative 
 power in questions of private right and from impairing 
 the obligation of contracts, is first introduced and esta- 
 blished, as far as I am informed, as matter of express 
 written constitutional law, in this ordinance of 1787. And 
 I must add, also, in regard to the author of the ordinance, 
 who has not had the happiness to attract the gentleman's 
 notice heretofore, nor to avoid his sarcasm now, that he 
 was chairman of that select committee of the old Cono-ress 
 whose report first expressed the strong sense of that body 
 that the old Confederation was not adequate to the exi- 
 gencies of the country, and recommending to the States to 
 send delegates to the convention which formed the present 
 Constitution. 
 
 An attempt has been made to transfer from the North 
 to the South the honor of* this exclusion of slavery from^ 
 the Northwestern Territory. The journal, without argu- 
 ment or comment, refutes such attempt. The session of 
 Virginia was made March, 1784. On the 19th of April 
 following, a committee, consisting of Messrs. Jefierson, 
 Chase, and Howell, reported a plan for a temporary go- 
 vernment of the Territory, in Avhich was this article : 
 " That after the year 1800 there shall be neither slavery 
 nor involuntary servitude in any of the said States, other- 
 wise than in punishment of crimes whereof the party shall 
 have been convicted." Mr. Speight, of North Carolina, 
 moved to strike out this paragraph. The question was put, 
 according to the form then practised ; " Shall these words 
 stand, as part of the plan," &c. New Hampshire, Mas- 
 sachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New 
 Jersey, and Pennsylvania — seven States — voted in the 
 
176 SPEECHES OF DAXIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 affirmative ; Maryland, Virginia, and South Carolina in 
 the negative. North Carolina was divided. As the con- 
 sent of nine States was necessary, tlie words could not 
 stand, and were struck out accordingly. Mr. Jefferson 
 voted for the clause, but was overruled by his colleagues. 
 
 In March of the next year, (1785,) Mr. King, of Mas- 
 sachusetts, seconded by Mr. Ellery, of Rhode Island, pro- 
 posed the formerly-rejected article, with this addition : 
 " And that this regulation shall he an article of compact, 
 and remain a fundamental principle of the Constitution, 
 between the thirteen original States and each of the States 
 described in the resolve," &c. On this clause, which pro- 
 vided , the adequate and thorough security, the eight 
 Northern States, at that time, voted affirmatively, and the 
 four Southern States negatively. The votes of nine States 
 were not yet obtained, and thus the provision was again 
 rejected by the Southern States. The perseverance of the 
 North held out, and two years afterward the object was 
 attained. It is no derogation from the credit, whatever 
 that may be, of drawing the ordinance, that its principles 
 had before been prepared and discussed, in the form of 
 resolutions. If one should reason in that way, what would 
 become of the distinguished honor of the author of the 
 Declaration of Independence ? There is not a sentiment 
 in that paper which had not been voted and resolved in the 
 assemblies, and other popular bodies in the country, over 
 and over again. 
 
 But the honorable member- has now found out that this 
 gentleman, Mr. Dane, was a member of the Hartford Con- 
 vention. However uninformed the honorable member may 
 be of characters and occurrences at the North, it would 
 seem that he has at his elbows, on this occasion, some 
 high-minded and lofty spirit, some magnanimous and true- 
 hearted monitor, possessing the means of local knowledge, 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 177 
 
 and ready to supply the honorable member -with every 
 thing, down even to forgotten and moth-eaten twopenny 
 pamphlets, which may be used to the disadvantage of his 
 own country. But, as to the Hartford Convention, sir, 
 allow me to say, that the proceedings of that body seem 
 now to be less read and studied in New England than 
 farther south. They appear to be looked to, not in New 
 England, but elsewhere, for the purpose of seeing how far 
 they may serve as a precedent. But they will not answer 
 the purpose : they are quite too tame. The latitude in 
 which they originated was too cold. Other conventions, 
 of more recent existence, have gone a whole bar's length 
 beyond it. The learned doctors of Colleton and Abbeville 
 have pushed their commentaries on the Hartford collect so 
 far that the original text-writers are thrown entirely into 
 the shade. I have nothing to do, sir, with the Hartford 
 Convention. Its journal, which the gentleman has quoted, 
 I never read. So far as the honorable member may dis- 
 cover in its proceedings a spirit in any degree resembling 
 that which was avowed and justified in those other con- 
 ventions to which I have alluded, or so far as those pro- 
 ceedings can be shown to be disloyal to the Constitution, 
 or tending to disunion, so far I shall be as ready as any 
 one to bestow on them reprehension and censure. 
 
 Having dwelt long on this Convention, and other occur- 
 rences of that day, in the hope, probably, (which will not 
 be gratified,) that I should leave the course of this debate 
 to follow him at length in those excursions, the honorable 
 member returned, and attempted another object. He 
 referred to a speech of mine in the other House, the same 
 which I had occasion to allude to myself the other day, 
 and has quoted a passage or two from it, with a bold though 
 uneasy and laboring air of confidence, as if he had detected 
 in me an inconsistency. Judging from the gentleman's 
 
178 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 manner, a stranger to the course of the debate, and to the 
 point in discussion, wouhi have imagined, from so triumphant 
 a tone, that the honorable member was about to overwhehn 
 me with a manifest contradiction. Any one who heard 
 him, and who had not heard what I had, in fact, previously 
 said, must have thought me routed and discomfited, as the 
 gentleman had promised. Sir, a breath blows all this 
 triumph away. There is not the slightest diiference in the 
 sentiments of my remarks on the two occasions. What I 
 said here on Wednesday is in exact accordance with the 
 opinions expressed by me in the other House in 1825. 
 Though the gentleman had the metaphysics of Hudibras, — 
 though he were able 
 
 " to sever and divide 
 A hair 'twixt north and northwest side," — 
 
 he could not yet insert his metaphysical scissors between 
 the fair reading of my remarks in 1825 and what I said 
 here last week. There is not only no contradiction, no 
 difference, but, in truth, too exact a similarity, both in 
 thought and language, to be entirely in just taste. I had 
 myself quoted the same speech, had recurred to it, and 
 spoke with it open before me ; and much of what I said 
 was little more than a repetition from it. In order to make 
 finishing work with this alleged contradiction, permit me 
 to recur to the origin of. this debate, and review its course. 
 This seems expedient, and may be done as well now as at 
 any time. 
 
 Well, then, its history is this : the honorable member 
 from Connecticut moved a resolution, which constituted 
 the first branch of that which is now before us ; that is to 
 say, a resolution instructing the committee on public 
 lands to inquire into the expediency of limiting, for a 
 certain period, the sales of public lands to such as have 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 179 
 
 heretofore been oiFered for sale ; and whether sundry 
 offices, connected with the sales of the lands, might not be 
 abolished without detriment to the public service. 
 
 In the progress of the discussion which arose on this 
 resolution, an honorable member from New Hampshire 
 moved to amend the resolution, so as entirely to reverse 
 its object ; that is, to strike it all out, and insert a direc- 
 tion to the committee to inquire into the expediency of 
 adopting measures to hasten the sales and extend more 
 rapidly the surveys of the lands. 
 
 The honorable member from Maine (Mr. Sprague) sug- 
 gested that both these propositions might well enough go, 
 for consideration, to the committee ; and in this state of 
 the question, the member from South Carolina addressed 
 the Senate in his first speech. He rose, he said, to giVe 
 us his own free thoughts on the public lands. I saw him 
 rise with pleasure, and listened with expectation, though 
 before he concluded I was filled with surprise. Certainly, 
 I was never more surprised than to find him following up, 
 to the extent he did, the sentiments and opinions which 
 the gentleman from Missouri had put forth, and which it 
 is known he has long entertained. 
 
 I need not repeat at large the general topics of the 
 honorable gentleman's speech. When he said yesterday 
 that he did not attack the Eastern States, he certainly 
 must have forgotten not only particular remarks, but the 
 whole drift and tenor of his speech ; unless he means by 
 not attacking, that he did not commence hostilities, but 
 that another had preceded him in the attack. He, in the 
 first place, disapproved of the whole course of the Govern- 
 ment for forty years, in regard to the dispositions of the 
 public land ; and then, turning nortliAvard and eastward, 
 and fancying he had found a cause for alleged narrowness 
 and niggardliness in the " accursed policy" of the tariff, 
 
180 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 to which he represented the people of New England as 
 wedded, he went on, for a full hour, with remarks, the 
 whole scope of which was to exhibit the results of this 
 policy, in feelings and in measures unfavorable to the 
 West. I thought his opinions unfounded and erroneous 
 as to the general course of the Government, and ventured 
 to reply to them. 
 
 The gentleman had remarked on the analogy of other 
 cases, and quoted the conduct of European Governments 
 toAvard their own subjects settling on this continent as in 
 point, to show that we had been harsh- and rigid in selling 
 when we should have given the public lands to settlers. I 
 thought the honorable member had suffered his judgment 
 to be betrayed by a false analogy ; that he was struck 
 with an appearance of resemblance where there was no 
 real similitude. I think so still. The first settlers of 
 North America were enterprising spirits, engaged in 
 private adventure, or fleeing from tyranny at home. 
 When arrived here, they were forgotten by the mother- 
 country, or remembered only to be oppressed. Carried 
 away again by the appearance of analogy, or struck 
 with the eloquence of the passage, the honorable member 
 yesterday observed that the conduct of Government 
 toward the Western emigrants, or my representation of it, 
 brought to his mind a celebrated speech in the British 
 Parliament. It was, sir, the speech of Colonel Barr(j. 
 On the question of the stamp act, or tea tax, I forget which, 
 Colonel Barrd had heard a member on the Treasury bench 
 argue, that the people of the United States, being British 
 colonists, planted by the maternal care, nourished by the 
 indulgence, and protected by the arms of England, would 
 not grudge their mite to relieve the mother-country from 
 the heavy burden under whicli she groaned. The lan- 
 guage of Colonel Barrd in reply to this was, " They 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 181 
 
 planted by your care ? Your oppression planted them in 
 America. Thej^ fled from your tyranny, and grew by 
 your neglect of them. So soon as you began to care for 
 them, you showed your care by sending persons to spy out 
 their liberties, misrepresent their character, prey upon 
 them, and eat out their substance." 
 
 And now, does the honorable gentleman mean to main- 
 tain that language like this is applicable to the conduct 
 of the Government of the United States toward the 
 Western emigrants, or to any representation given b}^ me 
 of that conduct ? Were the settlers in the West driven 
 thither by our oppression ? Have they flourished only by 
 our neglect of them ? Has the Government done nothing 
 but to prey upon them and eat out their substance ? Sir, 
 this fervid eloquence of the British speaker, just when and 
 where it was uttered, and fit to remain an exercise for the 
 schools, is not a little out of place when it was brought 
 thence to be applied here, to the conduct of our own 
 country toward her own citizens. From America to 
 England it may be true ; from Americans to their own 
 Government it would be strange language. Let us leave 
 it to be recited and declaimed by our boys against a 
 foreign nation ; not introduce it here, to recite and de- 
 claim ourselves ag-ainst our own. 
 
 But I come to the point of the alleged contradiction. 
 In my remarks on Wednesday, I contended that we could 
 not give away gratuitously all the public lands ; that we 
 held them in trust ; that the Government had solemnly 
 pledged itself to dispose of them as a common fund for 
 the common benefit, and to sell and settle them as its 
 discretion should dictate. Now, sir, what contradiction 
 does the gentleman find to this sentiment in the speech of 
 1825 ? He quotes me as having then said, that we ought 
 not to hug these lands as a very great treasure. Very 
 
 16 
 
182 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 well, sir ; supposing me to be accurately reported in that 
 expression, what is the contradiction? I have not now 
 said that Ave should hug these lands as a favorite source 
 of pecuniary income. No such thing. It is not my view. 
 What I have said and what I do say is, that they are a 
 common fund — to be disposed of for the common benefit — 
 to be sold at low prices, for the accommodation of settlers, 
 keeping the object of settling the lands as much in view 
 as that of raising money from them. This I say now, 
 and this I have always said. Is this hugging them as a 
 favorite treasure ? Is there no difference between hug- 
 ging and hoarding this fund, on the one hand, as a great 
 treasure, and, on the other, of disposing of it at low prices, 
 placing the proceeds in the general treasury of the Union ? 
 My opinion is, that as much is to be made of the land as 
 fairly and reasonably may be, selling it all the while at 
 such rates as to give the fullest eifect to settlement. This 
 is not giving it all away to the States, as the gentleman 
 would propose ; nor is it hugging the fund closely and 
 tenaciously as a favorite treasure ; but it is, in my judg- 
 ment, a just and wise policy, perfectly according with all 
 the various duties which rest on Government. So much 
 for my contradiction. And what is it ? Where is the 
 ground of the gentleman's triumph? What inconsistency, 
 in word or doctrine, has he been able to detect ? Sir, if 
 this be a sample of that discomfiture with which tiie 
 honorable gentleman threatened me, commend me to the 
 word discomfiture for the rest of my life. 
 
 But, after all, this is not the point of the debate ; and I 
 must bring the gentleman back to that which is the point. 
 
 The real question between me and him is, Where has 
 the doctrine been advanced, at the South or the East, that 
 the population of the West should be retarded, or, at least, 
 need not be hastened, on account of its effect to drain ofi" 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 1 <^3 
 
 the people from the Atlantic States ? Is this doctrine, as 
 has been alleged, of Eastern origin ? That is the question. 
 Has the gentleman found any thing by which he can make 
 good his accusation ? I submit to the Senate, that he has 
 entirely failed ; and as far as this debate has shown, the 
 only person who has advanced such sentiments is a gentle- 
 man from South Carolina, and a friend to the honorable 
 member himself. The honorable gentleman has given no 
 answer to this ; there is none which can be given. This 
 simple fact, while it requires no comment to enforce it, 
 defies all argument to refute it. I could refer to the 
 speeches of another Southern gentleman, in years before, 
 of the same general character, and to the same effect, as 
 that which has been quoted ; but I will not consume the 
 time of the Senate by the reading of them. 
 
 So then, sir, New England is guiltless of the policy of 
 retarding Western population, and of all envy and jealousy 
 of the growth of the new States. Whatever there be of 
 that policy in the country, no part of it is hers. If it has 
 a local habitation, the honorable member has probably 
 seen, by this time, where he is to look for it ; and if it 
 now has received a name, he himself has christened it. 
 
 We approach, at length, sir, to a more important part 
 of the honorable gentleman's observations. Since it does 
 not accord with my views of justice and policy to vote 
 away the public lands altogether, as mere matter of 
 gratuity, I am asked, by the honorable gentleman, on what 
 ground it is that I consent to give them away in particular 
 instances. How, he inquires, do I reconcile with these 
 professed sentiments my support of measures appropriating 
 portions of the lands to particular roads, particular canals, 
 particular rivers, and particular institutions of education 
 in the West ? This leads, sir, to the real and wide dif- 
 ference in political opinions between the honorable gentle- 
 
184 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 man and myself. On my part, I look upon all thp;^e 
 objects as connected Avith the common good, fairly em- 
 braced in its objects and its terms ; he, on the contrary, 
 deems them all, if good at all, only local good. This is 
 our difference. The interrogatory which he proceeded to 
 put at once explains this difference. "What interest," 
 asks he, "has South Carolina in a canal in Ohio?" Sir, 
 this very question is full of significance. It develops the 
 gentleman's whole political system ; and its answer ex- 
 pounds mine. Here we differ toto coelo. I look upon a 
 road over the Alleghany, a canal round the falls of the 
 Ohio, or a canal or railway from the Atlantic to the 
 Western waters, as being objects large and extensive 
 enough to be fairly said to be for the common benefit. 
 The gentleman thinks otherwise ; and this is the key to 
 open his construction of the powers of the Government. 
 He may Avell ask, upon his system. What interest has 
 South Carolina in a canal in Ohio ? On that system, it is 
 true, she has no interest. On that system, Ohio and Caro- 
 lina are different governments and different countries, con- 
 nected here, it is true, by some slight and ill-defined bond 
 of union, but in all main respects separate and diverse. 
 On that system, Carolina has no more interest in a canal 
 in Ohio than in Mexico. The gentleman, therefore, only 
 follows out his own principles ; he does no more than 
 arrive at the natural conclusions of his own doctrines ; he 
 only announces the true results of that creed which he has 
 adopted himself, and would persuade others to adopt, when 
 he thus declares that South Carolina has no interest in a 
 public work in Ohio. Sir, we narrow-minded people of 
 New England do not reason thus. Our notion of things 
 is entirely different. We look upon the States, not as 
 separated, but as united. We love to dwell on that Union, 
 and on the mutual happiness which it has so much pro- 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 185 
 
 moted, and the common renown which it has so greatly 
 contributed to acquire. In our contemplation, Carolina 
 and Ohio are parts of the same country — States united 
 under the same General Government, having interests com- 
 mon, associated, intermingled. In whatever is within the 
 proper sphere of the constitutional power of this Govern- 
 ment, we look upon the States as one. We do not impose 
 geographical limits to our patriotic feeling or regard ; we 
 do not follow rivers, and mountains, and lines of latitude, 
 to find boundaries beyond which public improvements do 
 not benefit us. We, who come here as agents and repre- 
 sentatives of those narrow-minded and selfish men of New 
 England, consider ourselves as bound to regard, with equal 
 eye, the good of the whole, in whatever is within our power 
 of legislation. Sir, if a railroad or a canal, beginning in 
 South Carolina, and ending in South Carolina, appeared 
 to me to be of national importance and national magnitude, 
 believing as I do that the power of Government extends to 
 the encouragement of works of that description, if I were 
 to stand up here and ask, " What interest has Massachu- 
 setts in a railroad in South Carolina ?'' I should not be 
 willing to face my constituents. These same narrow- 
 minded men would tell me that they had sent me to act 
 for the whole country, and that one who possessed too 
 little comprehension, either of intellect or feeling, one 
 who was not large enough, in mind and heart, to embrace 
 the whole, was not fit to be intrusted with the interest of 
 any part. Sir, I do not desire to enlarge the powers of 
 the Government by unjustifiable construction, nor to exer- 
 cise any not within a fair interpretation. But when it is 
 believed that a power does exist, then it is, in my judgment 
 to be exercised for the general benefit of the whole : so far 
 as respects the exercise of such a power, the States are 
 one. It was the very object of the Constitution to create 
 
 16* 
 
1.S6 SrEECIIES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 unity of interests to the extent of the powers of the Gene- 
 ral Government. In war and peace we are one ; in com- 
 merce, one ; because the authority of the General Govern- 
 ment reaches to war and peace, and to the regulation of 
 commerce. I have never seen any more diiEculty in erect- 
 ing lighthouses on the lakes than on the ocean ; in improv- 
 ing the harbors of inland seas than if they were Avithin 
 the ebb and flow of the tide ; or of removing obstructions 
 in the vast streams of the West, more than in any work to 
 facilitate commerce on the Atlantic coast. If there be 
 power for one, there is power also for the other ; and they 
 are all and equally for the country. 
 
 There are other objects, apparently more local, or the 
 benefit of which is less general, toward which, nevertheless, 
 I have concurred with others to give aid by donations of 
 land. It is proposed to construct a road in or through 
 one of the new States in which this Government possesses 
 large quantities of land. Have the United States no 
 right, as a great and untaxed proprietor — are they under 
 no obligation — to contribute to an object thus calculated to 
 promote the common good of all the proprietors, them- 
 selves included ? And even with respect to education, 
 which is the extreme case, let the question be considered. 
 In the first place, as we have seen, it was made matter of 
 compact with these States that they should do their part 
 to promote education. In the next place, our whole sys- 
 tem of land-laws proceeds on the idea that education is 
 for the common good ; because, in every division, a certain 
 portion is uniformly reserved and appropriated for the use 
 of schools. And, finally, have not these new States 
 singularly strong claims, founded on the ground already 
 stated, that tlic Government is a great untaxed proprietor 
 in the ownership of the soil ? It is a consideration of 
 great importance that probably there is in no part of the 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 187 
 
 country, or of the world, so great a call for tlie means of 
 education as in those new States, owing to the vast num- 
 ber of persons within those ages in which education and 
 instruction are usually received, if received at all. This 
 is the natural consequence of recency of settlement and 
 rapid increase. The census of these States shows how 
 great a proportion of the whole population occupies the 
 classes between infancy and manhood. These are the 
 wide fields, and here is the deep and quick soil for the 
 seeds of knowledge and virtue ; and this is the favored 
 season, the spring-time for sowing them. Let them be 
 disseminated without stint. Let them be scattered with 
 a bountiful broadcast. Whatever the Government can 
 fairly do toward these objects, in my opinion, ought to be 
 done. 
 
 These, sir, are the grounds, succinctly stated, on which 
 my votes for grants of lands for particular objects rest, 
 while I maintain, at the same time, that it is all a common 
 fund, for the common benefit. And reasons like these, I 
 presume, have influenced the votes of other gentlemen from 
 New England. Those who have a difi"erent view of the 
 powers of the Government, of course, come to different 
 conclusions on these as on other questions. I observed, 
 when speaking on this subject before, that if we looked to 
 any measure, whether for a road, a canal, or any thing 
 else intended for the improvement of the West, it would 
 be found, that if the New England ayes were struck out 
 of the list of votes, the Southern noes would always have 
 rejected the measure. The truth of this has not been 
 denied, and cannot be denied. In stating this, I thought 
 it just to ascribe it to the constitutional scruples of the 
 South, rather than to any other less favorable or less 
 charitable cause. But no sooner had I done this, than 
 the honorable gentleman asks if I reproach him and his 
 
183 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 friends with their constitutional scruples. Sir, I reproach 
 nobody. I stated a fact, and gave the most respectful 
 reason for it that occurred to me. The gentleman cannot 
 deny the fact ; he may, if he choose, disclaim the reason. 
 It is not long since I had occasion, in presenting a petition 
 from his own State, to account for its being intrusted to 
 my hands by saying, that the constitutional opinions of 
 the gentleman and his worthy colleague prevented them 
 from supporting it. Sir, did I state this as a matter of 
 reproach ? Far from it. Did I attempt to find any other 
 cause than an honest one for these scruples ? Sir, I did 
 not. It did not become me to doubt, nor to insinuate that 
 the gentleman had either changed his sentiments, or that 
 he had made up a set of constitutional opinions accommo- 
 dated to any particular combination of political occur- 
 rences. Had I done so, I should have felt that, while I 
 was entitled to little respect in thus questioning other 
 people's motives, I justified the whole world in suspecting 
 my own. 
 
 But how has the gentleman returned this respect for 
 others' opinions ? Ilis own candor and justice, how have 
 they been exhibited toward the motives of others, while 
 he has been at so much pains to maintain — what nobody 
 has disputed — the purity of his own ? Why, sir, he has 
 asked ivhen, and hoiv, and zvhy Ncav England votes were 
 found going for measures favorable to the West ; he has 
 demanded to be informed whether all this did not begin 
 in 1825, a7id while the election of President was still 
 pending. Sir, to these questions retort would be justi- 
 fied ; and it is both cogent and at hand. Nevertheless, I 
 will answer the inquiry not by retort, but by facts. I will 
 tell the gentleman ivhen^ and hou\ and why New England 
 has supported measures favorable to the West. I liave 
 already referred to the early history of the Government — 
 
R'EPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 189 
 
 to the first acquisition of the lands — to the original laws 
 for disposing of them and for governing the territories 
 where they lie, and have shown the influence of New 
 England men and New England principles in all these 
 leading measures. I should not be pardoned were I to 
 go over that ground again. Coming to more recent times, 
 and to measures of a less general character, I have en- 
 deavored to prove that every thing of this kind designed 
 for Western improvement has depended on the votes of 
 NcAv England. All this is true beyond the power of con- 
 tradiction. 
 
 ' And now, sir, there are two measures to which I will 
 refer, not so ancient as to belong to the early history of 
 the public lands, and not so recent as to be on this side 
 of the period when the gentleman charitably imagines a 
 new direction may have been given to New England feel- 
 ing and New England votes. These measures, and the 
 New England votes in support of them, may be taken as 
 samples and specimens of all the rest. In 1820, (observe, 
 Mr. President, in 1820,) the people of the West besought 
 Congress for a reduction in the price of lands. In favor 
 of that reduction. New England, with a delegation of 
 forty members in the other House, gave thirty-three votes, 
 and one only against it. The four Southern States, with 
 fifty members, gave thirty-two votes for it, and seven 
 against it. Again, in 1821, (observe again, sir, the time,) 
 the law passed for the relief of the purchasers of the 
 public lands. This was a measure of vital importance to 
 the West, and more' especially to the Southwest. It 
 authorized the relinquishment of contracts for lands which 
 had been entered into at high prices, and a reduction, in 
 other cases, of not less than 37|^ per cent, on the pur- 
 chase-money. Many millions of dollars, six or seven, I 
 believe, a^ least, — probably much more, — were relinquished 
 
100 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 by this law. On this bill New England, with her forty 
 members, gave more affirmative votes than the four 
 Southern States with their fifty-two or three members. 
 These two are far the most important measures respecting 
 the public lands which have been adopted within the last 
 twenty years. They took place in 1820 and 1821. 
 That is the time when. And as to the manner how, the 
 gentleman already sees that it was by voting, in solid 
 column, for the required relief; and lastly, as to the 
 cause why, I tell the gentleman it was because the mem- 
 bers from New England thought the measures just and 
 salutary ; because they entertained toward the West 
 neither envy, hatred, nor malice ; because they deemed it 
 becoming them, as just and enlightened public men, to 
 meet the exigency which had arisen in the West with the 
 appropriate measure of relief; because they felt it due to 
 their own characters, and the characters of their New 
 England predecessors in this Government, to act toward 
 the new States in the spirit of a liberal, patronizing, 
 magnanimous policy. So much, sir, for the cause why ; 
 and I hope that by this time, sir, the honorable gentle- 
 man is satisfied ; if not, I do not know ivhen, or lioiv, or 
 tuhy^ he ever Avill bo. 
 
 Having recurred to those two important measures, in 
 answer to the gentleman's inquiries, I must now beg per- 
 mission to go back to a period still something earlier, for 
 the purpose still further of showing how much, or rather 
 how little, reason there is for the gentleman's insinuation 
 that political hopes or fears, or party-associations, were 
 the grounds of these New England votes. And after what 
 has been said, I hope it may be forgiven me if I allude to 
 sotne political opinions and votes of my oAvn, of very little 
 public importance, certainly, but which, from the time at 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 191 
 
 wliicli thej were given and expressed, may pass for good 
 witnesses on this occasion. 
 
 This Government, Mr. President, from its origin to the 
 peace of 1815, had been too much engrossed with various 
 other important concerns to be able to turn its thoughts 
 inward and look to the development of its vast internal 
 resources. In the early part of President Washington's 
 administration, it was fully occupied with organizing the 
 Government, providing for the public debt, defending the 
 frontiers, and maintaining domestic peace. Before the 
 termination of that administration, the fires of the French 
 Revolution blazed forth, as from a new-opened volcano, 
 and the whole breadth of the ocean did not entirely secure 
 us from its efiects. The smoke and the cinders reached 
 us, though not the burning lava. Difficult and agitating 
 questions, embarrassing to Government, and dividing public 
 opinion, sprung out of the new state of our foreign rela- 
 tions, and were succeeded by others, and yet again by 
 others, equally embarrassing, and equally exciting division 
 and discord, through the long series of twenty years, till 
 they finally issued in the war with England. Down to the 
 close of that war, no distinct, marked, and deliberate atten- 
 tion had been given, or could have been given, to the 
 internal condition of the country, its capacities of improve- 
 ment, or the constitutional power of the Government in 
 regard to objects connected with such improvement. 
 
 The peace, Mr. President, brought about an entirely new 
 and a most interesting state of things ; it opened to us 
 other prospects, and suggested other duties ; we ourselves 
 were changed, and the whole world was changed. The 
 pacification of Europe, after June, 1815, assumed a firm 
 and permanent aspect. The nations evidently manifested 
 that they were disposed for peace : some agitation of the 
 waves might be expected, even after the storm had sub- 
 
192 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 sided; but the tendency was, strongly and rapidly, toward 
 settled repose. 
 
 It so happened, sir, that I was at that time a member 
 of Congress, and, like others, naturally turned my atten- 
 tion to the contemplation of the newly-altered condition 
 of the country, and of the world. It appeared plainly 
 enough to me, as well as to wiser and more experienced 
 men, that the policy of the Government would necessarily 
 take a start in a new direction ; because new directions 
 would necessarily be given to the pursuits and occupations 
 of the people. We had pushed our commerce far and fast, 
 under the advantage of a neutral flag. But there were 
 now no longer flags, either neutral or belligerent. The 
 harvest of neutrality had been great, but we had gathered 
 it all. With the peace of Europe, it was obvious there 
 would spring up, in her circle of nations, a revived and 
 invigorated spirit of trade, and a new activity in all the 
 business and objects of civilized life. Hereafter, our com- 
 mercial gains were to be earned only by success in a close 
 and intense competition. Other nations would produce for 
 themselves, and carry for themselves, and manufacture for 
 themselves, to the full extent of their abilities. The crops 
 of our plains would no longer sustain European armies, nor 
 our ships longer supply those whom war had rendered 
 unable to supply themselves. It was obvious, that, under 
 these circumstances, the country would begin to survey 
 itself, and to estimate its own capacity of improvement. 
 And this improvement, how was it to be accomplished, and 
 who was to accomplish it ? 
 
 We were ten or twelve millions of people, spread over 
 almost half a world. We were twenty-four States, some 
 stretching along the same sea-board, some along the same 
 line of inland frontier, and others on opposite banks of the 
 same vast rivers. Two considerations at once presented 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 19 
 
 f) 
 
 themselves, in looking at this state of things, with great 
 force. One was, that that great branch of improvement, 
 which consisted in furnishing new facilities of intercourse, 
 necessarily ran into different States, in every leading in- 
 stance, and would benefit the citizens of all such States. 
 No one State, therefore, in such cases, would assume the 
 whole expense, nor was the co-operation of several States 
 to be expected. Take the instance of the Delaware Break- 
 water. It will cost several millions of money. Would 
 Pennsylvania alone have ever constructed it ? Certainly 
 never, while this Union lasts, because it is not for her sole 
 benefit. Would Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware 
 have united to accomplish it, at their joint expense ? Cer- 
 tainly not, for the same reason. It could not be done, 
 therefore, but by the General Government. The same 
 may be said of the large inland undertakings, except that, 
 in them. Government, instead of bearing the whole expense, 
 co-operates with others who bear a part. The other con- 
 sideration is, that the United States have the means. They 
 enjoy the revenues derived from commerce, and the States 
 have no abundant and easy sources of public income. The 
 custom-houses fill the general treasury, while the States 
 have scanty resources, except by resort to heavy direct 
 taxes. 
 
 Under this view of things, I thought it necessary to 
 settle, at least for myself, some definite notions, with 
 respect to the powers of Government in regard to internal 
 affairs. It may not savor too much of self-commendation 
 to remark, that, with this object, I considered the Con- 
 stitution, its judicial construction, its contemporaneous 
 exposition, and the whole history of the legislation of Con- 
 gress under it ; and I arrived at the conclusion that Govern- 
 ment has power to accomplish sundry objects, or aid in 
 their accomplishment, which are now commonly spoken of 
 
 17 
 
194 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 as Internal Improvements. That conclusion, sir, may 
 have been right, or it may have been wrong. I am not 
 about to argue the grounds of it at large. I say only that 
 it was adopted, and acted on, even so early as in 1816. 
 Yes, Mr. President, I made up my opinion, and determined 
 on my intended course of political conduct on these sub- 
 jects, in the 14th Congress, in 1816. And now, Mr. Pre- 
 sident, I have further to say, that I made up these opinions, 
 and entered on this course of political conduct, Teucro diice- 
 Yes, sir, I pursued, in all this, a South Carolina track. On 
 the doctrines of internal improvement, South Carolina, as 
 she Avas then represented in the other House, set forth, in 
 1816, under a fresh and leading breeze ; and I was among 
 the followers. But if my leader sees new lights, and turns 
 a shai'p corner, unless I see new lights also, I keep straight 
 on in the same path. I repeat, that leading gentlemen 
 from South Carolina were first and foremost in behalf of 
 the doctrines of internal improvements, when those doc- 
 trines first came to be considered and acted upon in Con- 
 gress. The debate on the bank-question, on the tarifi" of 
 1816, and on the dii-ect tax, will show who was who, and 
 what was what, at that time. The tariff of 1816, orfe of 
 the plain cases of oppression and usurpation, from which, 
 if the Government does not recede,, individual States may 
 justly secede fi'ora the Government, is, sir, in truth, a 
 South Carolina tariff, supported by South Carolina votes. 
 But for those votes, it could not have passed in the form in 
 which it did pass ; whereas, if it had depended on Mas- 
 sachusetts votes,' it would have been lost. Does not the 
 honorable gentleman well know all this ? There are cer- 
 tainly those who do full well know it all. I do not say 
 this to reproach South Carolina ; I only state the fact, and 
 I think it will appear to be true, that among the earliest 
 and bohiest advocates of the tariff, as a measure of pro- 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYKE. 195 
 
 tection, and on the express ground of protection, Avcre 
 leading gentlemen of South Carolina in Congress. I did 
 not then, and cannot now, understand their language in 
 any other sense. While this tarift' of 1816 was under dis- 
 cussion in the House of Representatives, an honorable 
 gentleman from Georgia, now of this House, (Mr. Forsyth,) 
 moved to reduce the proposed duty on cotton. He failed 
 by four votes. South Carolina giving three votes (enough to 
 have turned the scale) against his motion. The act, sir, 
 then passed, and received on its passage the support of a 
 majority of the Representatives of South Carolina present 
 and voting. This act is the first in the order of those now 
 denounced as plain usurpations. We see it daily in the list 
 by the side of those of 1824 and 1828, as a case of manifest 
 oppression, justifying disunion. I put it home to the 
 honorable member from South Carolina, that his own State 
 was not only " art and part" in this measure, but the causa 
 causans. Without her aid, this seminal principle of mis- 
 chief, this root of upas, could not have been planted. I 
 have already said — and it is true — that this act proceeded 
 on the ground of protection. It interfered directly witii 
 existing interests of great value and amount. It cut up 
 the Calcutta cotton-trade by the roots. But it passed, 
 nevertheless, and it passed on the principle of protecting 
 manufactures, on the principle against free trade, on the 
 principle opposed to that 'which lets us alone. 
 
 Such, Mr. President, were the opinions of important and 
 leading gentlemen of South Carolina, on the subject of 
 internal improvement, in 1816. I went out of Congress the 
 next year, and, returning again in 1823, thought I found 
 South Carolina where I had left her. I really supposed 
 that all things remained as they were, and that the South 
 Carolina doctrine^ of internal improvements would be de- 
 fended by the same eloquent voices and the same strong 
 
196 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 arms as formerly. In the lapse of these six years, it is 
 true, political associations had assumed a new aspect and 
 new divisions. A party had arisen in the South, hostile to 
 the doctrine of internal improvements, and had vigorously 
 attacked that doctrine. Anti-consolidation was the flag 
 under which this party fought, and its supporters inveighed 
 against internal improvements, much after the same manner 
 in which the honorable gentleman has now inveighed 
 against them, as part and parcel of the system of con- 
 solidation. 
 
 Whether this party arose in South Carolina herself, or 
 in her neighborhood, is more than I know. I think the 
 latter. However that may have been, there were those 
 found in South Carolina ready to make war upon it, and 
 who did make intrepid war upon it. Names being regarded 
 as things in such controversies, they bestowed on the anti- 
 improvement gentlemen the appellation of radicals. Yes, 
 sir, the name of radicals, as a term of distinction, appli- 
 cable and applied to those who denied the liberal doctrines 
 of internal improvements, originated, according to the best 
 of ray recollection, somewhere between North Carolina and 
 Georgia. Well, sir, those mischievous radicals Avere to be 
 put down, and the strong arm of South Carolina was 
 stretched out to put them down. About this time, sir, I 
 returned to Congress. The battle with the radicals had 
 been fought, and our South Carolina champions of the doc- 
 trines of internal improvement had nobly maintained their 
 ground, and were understood to have achieved a victory. 
 They had driven back the enemy with discomfiture ; a 
 thing, by-the-way, sir, which is not always performed when 
 it is promised. A gentleman, to whom I have already 
 referred in this debate, had come into Congress, during my 
 absence from it, from South Carolina, and had brought 
 with him a high reputation for ability. He came from a 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 197 
 
 school with which we had been acquainted, et noscitur a 
 sociis. I hokl in my hand, sir, a printed speech of thi^ 
 distinguished gentleman, (Mr. McDuffie,) " on internal 
 IMPROVEMENTS," delivered about the period to which I now 
 refer, and printed with a few introductory remarks upon 
 consolidation ; in which, sir, I think he quite consolidated 
 the arguments of his opponents, the radicals, if to crush 
 be to consolidate. I give you a short but substantive 
 quotation from these remarks. He is speaking of a pam- 
 phlet, then recently published, entitled " Consolidation ;" 
 and having alluded to the question of rechartering the 
 former Bank of the United States, he says, '• Moreover, 
 in the early history of parties, and when Mr. Crawford 
 advocated the renewal of the old charter, it was considered 
 a Federal measure; which internal improvement never 
 Wets, as this author erroneously states. This latter measure 
 originated in the administration of Mr. Jefferson, with the 
 appropriation for the Cumberland road ; and was first pro- 
 posed, as a system, by Mr. Calhoun, and carried through 
 the House of Representatives by a large majority of the 
 Republicans, including almost every one of the leading 
 men who carried us through the late war." 
 
 So, then, internal improvement is not one of the Federal 
 heresies. 
 
 One paragraph more, sir. 
 
 " The author in' question, not content with denouncing 
 as Federalists General Jackson, Mr. Adams, Mr. Calhoun, 
 and the majority of the South Carolina delegation in Con- 
 gress, modestly extends the denunciation to Mr. Monroe 
 and the whole Republican party. Here are his words : 
 ' During the administration of Mr. Monroe, much has 
 passed which the Republican party would be glad to ap- 
 prove, if they could! But the principal feature, and that 
 which has chiefly elicited these observations, is the renewal 
 
 17* 
 
198 SPEECHES OF DAXIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 of the SYSTEM OF INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS.' Now, this 
 
 measure ^Yas adopted bj a vote of 115 to 86, of a Repub- 
 lican Congress, and sanctioned by a Republican President. 
 Who, then, is this author, who assumes the high prerogative 
 of denouncing, in the name of the Republican party, the 
 Republican administration of the country — a denunciation 
 including within its sweep Calhoun, Lowndes and Cheves; 
 men who will be regarded as the briirhtest ornaments of 
 South Carolina, and the strongest pillars of the Republican 
 party, as long as the late war shall be remembered, and 
 talents and patriotism shall be regarded as the proper ob- 
 jects of the admiration and gratitude of a free people?" 
 
 Such are the opinions, sir, wliich were maintained by 
 South Carolina gentlemen in the House of Representa- 
 tives on the subject of internal improvement, when I took 
 my seat there as a member from Massachusetts, in 1823. 
 But this is not all ; wc had a bill before us, and passed it 
 in that House, entitled " An act to procure the necessary 
 surveys, plans and estimates upon the subject of roads 
 and canals." It authorized the President to cause surveys 
 and estimates to he made of the routes of such roads and 
 canals as he anight deem of national importance in a com- 
 mercial or military point of vietv, or for the transjjortation 
 of the 7nail ; and appropriated thirty thousand dollars out 
 of the treasury to defray the expense. This act, though 
 preliminary in its nature, covered the whole ground. It 
 took for granted the complete power of internal improve- 
 ment, as far as any of its advocates had ever contended 
 for it. Having passed the other House, the bill came up 
 to the Senate, and was here considered and debated in 
 April, 1824. The honorable member from South Carolina 
 was a member of the Senate at that time. While the bill 
 was under consideration here, a motion was made to add 
 the following proviso : 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 199 
 
 ^^ Provided, That nothing herein contained shall be 
 construed to affirm or admit a power in Congress, on their 
 own authority, to make roads or canals within any of the 
 States of the Union." 
 
 The yeas and nays were taken on this proviso, and the 
 honorable member voted in the 7iegative. The proviso 
 failed. 
 
 A motion was then made to add this provision, — viz. : 
 
 " Provided, That the faith of the United States is 
 hereby pledged, that no money shall ever be expended 
 for roads or canals, except it shall be among the several 
 States, and in the same proportion as direct taxes are laid 
 and assessed by the provisions of the Constitution." 
 
 The honorable member voted against this proviso also, 
 and it failed. 
 
 The bill was then put on its passage, and the honorable 
 member voted /or it, and it passed, and became a law. 
 
 Now, it strikes me, sir, that there is no maintainino^ 
 these votes but upon the power of internal improvement, 
 in its broadest sense. In truth, these bills for surveys 
 and estimates have always been considered as test-ques- 
 tions. They show who is for and who against internal 
 improvement. This law itself went the whole length, and 
 assumed the full and complete power. The gentleman's 
 votes sustained that power, in every form in which the 
 various propositions to amend presented it. He went for 
 the entire and unrestrained authority, without consulting 
 the States, and without agreeing to any proportionate dis- 
 tribution. And now, suffer me to remind you, Mr. Pre- 
 sident, that it is this very same power, thus sanctioned, in 
 every form, by the gentleman's own opinion, that is so 
 plain and manifest a usurpation that the State of South 
 Carolina is supposed to be justified in refusing submission 
 to any laws carrying the power into effect. Truly, sir, is 
 
200 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 not this a little too hard? May ve not crave pome 
 mercy, under favor and protection of the gentleman's own 
 authority ? Admitting that a road or a canal must be 
 written down flat usurpation as ever was committed, may 
 we find no mitigation in our respect for his place, and his 
 vote, as one that knows the law ? 
 
 The tariff which South Carolina had an elTicient hand 
 in establishing in 1816, and this asserted power of internal 
 improvement, — advanced by her in the same year, and, as 
 we have now seen, -approved and sanctioned by her repre- 
 sentatives in 1824, — these two measures are the great 
 grounds on which she is now thought to be justified in 
 breaking up the Union, if she sees fit to break it up. 
 
 I may now safely say, I think, that we have had the au- 
 thorit}' of leading and distinguished gentlemen from South 
 Carolina in support of the doctrine of internal improve- 
 ment. I repeat, that, up to 1824, I, for one, followed South 
 Carolina ; but when that star in its ascension veered ofl" 
 in an unexpected direction, I relied on its light no longer. 
 [Here the Vice-President said, Does the Chair under- 
 stand the gentleman from Massachusetts to say that the 
 person now occupying the chair of the Senate has changed 
 his opinions on the subject of internal improvements ?] 
 From nothing ever said to me, sir, have I had reason to 
 know of any change in the opinions of the person filling 
 the chair of the Senate. If such change has taken place, 
 I regret it ; I speak generally of the State of South 
 Carolina. Individuals we know there are who hold opi- 
 nions favorable to the power. An application for its ex- 
 ercise in behalf of a public Avork in South Carolina itself 
 is now pending, I believe, in the other House, presented by 
 members from that State. 
 
 I have thus, sir, perhaps not without some tediousness 
 of detail, shown that, if I am in error on the subject of 
 
KEPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 201 
 
 internal improvements, how and in what company I fell 
 into that error. If I am wrong, it is apparent who misled 
 me. 
 
 I go to other remarks of the honorable member, — and I 
 have to complain of an entire misapprehension of what I 
 said on the subject of the national debt — though I can 
 hardly perceive how any one could misunderstand me. 
 What I said was, not that I wished to put oif the payment 
 of the debt, but, on the contrary, that I had always voted 
 for every measure for its reduction, as uniformly as the 
 gentleman himself. He seems to claim the exclusive merit 
 of a disposition to reduce the public charge ; I do not 
 allow it to him. As a debt, I was, I am, for paying it ; 
 because it is a charge on our finances, and on the industry 
 of tbe country. But I observed that I thought I per- 
 ceived a morbid fervor on that subject ; an excessive 
 anxiety to pay off the debt ; not so much because it is a 
 debt simply, as because, while it lasts, it furnishes one 
 objection to disunion. It is a tie of common interest 
 while it lasts. I did not impute such motive to the honor- 
 able_ member himself; but that there is such a feeling in 
 existence I have not a particle of doubt. The most I 
 said was, that if one effect of the debt was to strengthen 
 our Union, that effect itself was not regretted by me, 
 however much others might regret it. The gentleman 
 has not seen how to reply to this otherwise than by sup- 
 posing me to have advanced the doctrine that a national 
 debt is a national blessing. Others, I must hope, will find 
 less difficulty in understanding me. I distinctly and 
 pointedly cautioned the honorable member not to under- 
 stand me as expressing an opinion favorable to the con- 
 tinuance of the debt. I repeated this caution, and re- 
 peated it more than once — but it was thrown away. 
 
 On yet another point I was still more unaccountably 
 
202 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 misunderstood. The gentleman had harangued against 
 "consolidation." I told him, in reply, that there was one 
 kind of consolidation to which I was attached, and that 
 was, the consolidation of our Union ; and that this 
 was precisely that consolidation to which I feared others 
 were not attached ; that suck consolidation was the very 
 end of the Constitution — the leading object, as they bad 
 informed us themselves, which its framers had kept in 
 view. I turned to their communication, and read their 
 very words, — " the consolidation of the Union," — and ex- 
 pressed my devotion to this sort of consolidation. I said 
 in terms that I wished not, in the slightest degree, to aug- 
 ment the- powers of this Government ; that my object was 
 to preserve, not to enlarge ; and that, by consolidating the 
 Union, I understood no more than the strengthening of the 
 Union and perpetuating it. Having been thus explicit, 
 having thus read, from the printed book, the precise words 
 which I adopted, as expressing my own sentiments, it 
 passes comprehension, how any man could understand me 
 as contending for an extension of the powers of the Govern- 
 ment, or for consolidation in that odious sense in which it 
 means an accumulation, in the Federal Government, of the 
 powers properly belonging to the States. 
 
 I repeat, sir, that, in adopting the sentiments of the 
 framers of the Constitution, I read their language audibly, 
 and word for word ; and I pointed out the distinction, just 
 as fully as I have now done between the consolidation of 
 the Union and that other obnoxious consolidation which I 
 disclaimed ; and yet the honorable gentleman misunder- 
 stood me. The gentleman had said that he wished for no 
 fixed revenue — not a shilling. If, by a word, he could con- 
 vert the Capitol into gold, he would not do it. Why all 
 this fear of revenue ? Wh}^ sir, because, as the gentleman 
 told us, it tends to consolidation. Now, this can moan 
 
KEPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 203 
 
 neither more nor less than that a common revenue is a 
 common interest, and that all common interests tend to 
 hold the union of the States together, I confess I hke 
 that tendency ; if the gentleman dislikes it, he is right in 
 deprecating a shilling's fixed revenue. So much, sir, for 
 consolidation. 
 
 As well as I recollect the course of his remarks, the 
 honorable gentleman next recurred to the subject of the 
 tariff. He did not doubt the word must be of unpleasant 
 sound to me, and proceeded, with an effort neither new nor 
 attended with new success, to involve me and my votes in 
 inconsistency and contradiction. I am happy the honor- 
 able gentleman has furnished me an opportunity of a timely 
 remark or two on that subject. I was glad he approached 
 it, for it is a question I enter upon without fear from any- 
 body. The strenuous toil of the gentleman has been to 
 raise an inconsistency between my dissent to the tariff in 
 1824 and my vote in 1828. It is hibor lost. He pays 
 undeserved compliment to my speech in 1824 ; but this is 
 to raise me high, that my fall, as he would have it, in 1828 
 may be the more signal. Sir, there was no fall at all. 
 Between the ground I stood on in 1824 and that I took in 
 1828, there was not only no precipice, but no declivity. It 
 was a change of position, to meet new circumstances, but 
 on the same level. A plain tale explains the whole matter. 
 In 1816, I had not acquiesced in the tariff, then supported 
 by South Carolina. To some parts of it, especially, I felt 
 and expressed great repugnance. I held the same opinions 
 in 1821, at the meeting in Faneuil Hall, to which the gen- 
 tleman has alluded. I said then, and say now, that, as an 
 original question, the authority of Congress to exercise the 
 revenue power, with direct reference to the protection of 
 manufactures, is a questionable authority, far more ques- 
 tionable, in my judgment, than the power of internal im- 
 
204 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 provements. I must confess, sir, that, in one respect, some 
 impression has been made on my. opinions hitely. Mr. 
 Madison's publication has put the power in a very strong 
 light. He has placed it, I must acknowledge, upon grounds 
 of construction and argument Avhich seem impregnable. 
 But, even if the power were doubtful, on the face of the 
 Constitution itself, it had been assumed and asserted in the 
 first revenue law ever passed under that same Constitution ; 
 and, on this ground, as a matter settled by contemporaneous 
 practice, I had refrained from expressing the opinion that 
 the tariff laws transcended constitutional limits, as the gen- 
 tleman supposes. What I did say at Faneuil Hall, as far 
 as I now remember, was, that this was originally matter 
 of doubtful construction. The gentleman himself, I sup- 
 pose, thinks there is no doubt about it, and that the laws 
 are plainly against the Constitution. Mr. Madison's let- 
 ters, already referred to, contain, in my judgment, by far 
 the most able exposition extant of this part of the Con- 
 stitution. He has satisfied me, so far as the practice of the 
 Government had left it an open question, 
 
 "With a great majority of the Representatives of Mas- 
 sachusetts, I voted against the tarifl" of 1824. My reasons 
 wore then given, and I will not now repeat them. But 
 notwithstanding our dissent, the great States of New York, 
 Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Kentucky went for the bill, in 
 almost unbroken column, and it passed. Congress and the 
 President sanctioned it, and it became the law of the land. 
 What, then, Avere we to do ? Our only option was either 
 to fall in with this settled course of public policy, and to 
 accommodate ourselves to it as well as we could, or to 
 embrace the South Carolina doctrine, and talk of nullifying 
 the statute by State interference. 
 
 This last alternative did not suit our principles, and, of 
 course, Ave adopted the former. In 1827, the subject came 
 
KEPLY TO MR. HAYNE, 205 
 
 again before Congress, on a proposition favorable to wool 
 and woollens. We looked upon the system of protection 
 as being fixed and settled. The law of 1824 remained. 
 It had gone into full operation, and in regard to some 
 objects intended by it, perhaps most of them, had produced 
 all its expected effects. No man proposed to repeal it — no 
 man attempted to renew the general contest on its principle. 
 But, owing to subsequent and unforeseen occurrences, the 
 benefit intended by it to wool and woollen fabrics had not 
 been realized. Events, not known here when the law 
 passed, had taken place, which defeated its object in that 
 particular respect. A measure was accordingly brouglit 
 forward to meet this precise deficiency, to remedy this par- 
 ticular defect. It was limited to wool and woollens. Was 
 ever any thing more reasonable ? If the policy of the 
 tariff-laws had become established in principle as the per- 
 manent policy of the Government, should they not be 
 revised and amended, and made equal, like other laws, as 
 exigencies should arise, or justice require ? Because we 
 had doubted about adopting the system, were we to refuse 
 to cure its manifest defects after it became adopted, and 
 when no one attempted its repeal ? And this, sir, is the 
 inconsistency so much bruited. I had voted against the 
 tariff of 1824— but it passed; and in 1827 and 1828, I 
 voted to amend it in a point essential to the interest of my 
 constituents. Where is the inconsistency? Could I do 
 otherwise ? 
 
 Sir, does political consistency consist in always giving 
 negative votes ? Does it require of a public man to refuse 
 to concur in amending laws because they passed against 
 his consent? Having voted against the tariff originally, 
 does consistency demand that I should do all in my power 
 to maintain an unequal tariff, burdensome to my own con- 
 stituents in many respects, — favorable in none ? To con- 
 
 18 
 
206 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 sistency of that sort I lay no claim ; and there is another 
 sort to which I lay as little — and that is, a kind of con- 
 sistency by which persons feel themselves as much bound 
 to oppose a proposition after it has become the law of the 
 land as before. 
 
 The bill of 1827, limited, as I have said, to the single 
 object in which the tariff of 1824 had manifestly failed in 
 its eifect, passed the House of Representatives, but was 
 lost here. We had then the act of 1828. I need not 
 recur to the history of a measure so recent. Its enemies 
 spiced it with whatsoever they thought would render it 
 distasteful ; its friends took it, drugged as it was. Vast 
 amounts of property, many millions, had been invested in 
 manufactures, under the inducements of the act of 1824. 
 Events called loudly, as I thought, for further regulations 
 to secure the degree of protection intended by that act. 
 I was disposed to vote for such regulations, and desired 
 nothing more ; but certainly was not to be bantered out 
 of my purpose by a threatened augmentation of duty on 
 molasses, put into the bill for the avowed purpose of 
 making it obnoxious. The vote may have been right or 
 wrong, wise or unwise ; but it is little less than absurd to 
 allege against it an inconsistency with opposition to the 
 former law. 
 
 Sir, as to the general subject of the tariff, I have little 
 now to say. Another opportunity may be presented. I 
 remarked, the other day, that this policy did not begin 
 with tis in New England ; and yet, sir, New England is 
 charged with vehemence as being favorable, or charged 
 with equal vehemence as being unfavorable, to the tariff 
 policy, just as best suits the time, place, and occasion for 
 making some charge against her. The credulity of the 
 public has been put to its extreme capacity of false im- 
 pression relative to her com.luct in this particular. Through 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 20T 
 
 all the South, during the late contest, it was New England 
 policy, and a New England administration, that was afflict- 
 ing the country with a tariif policy beyond all endurance, 
 while on the other side of the Alleghany, even the act of 
 1828 itself — the very sublimated essence of oppression, 
 according to Southern opinions — was pronounced to be one 
 of those blessings for which the West was indebted to the 
 "generous South," 
 
 With large investments in manufacturing establishments, 
 and various interests connected with and dependent on 
 them, it is not to be expected that New England, any more 
 than other portions of the country, will now consent to any 
 measure destructive or highly dangerous. The duty of 
 the Government, at the present moment, would seem to 
 be to preserve, not to d^.stroy ; to maintain the position 
 which it has assumed ; and for one, I shall feel it an indis- 
 pensable obligation to hold it steady, as far as in my 
 power, to that degree of protection which it has under- 
 taken to bestow. No more of the tariff. 
 
 Professing to be provoked by what he chose to consider 
 a charge made by me against South Carolina, the honor- 
 able member, Mr. President, has taken up a new crusade 
 against New England. Leaving altogether the subject of 
 the public lands, in which his success, perhaps, had been 
 neither distinguished nor satisfactory, and letting go, also, 
 of the topic of the tariff, he sallied forth in a general 
 assault on the opinions, politics, and parties of New Eng- 
 land, as they have been exhibited in the last thirty years. 
 This is natural. The " narrow policy" of the public lands 
 had proved a legal settlement in South Carolina, and was 
 not to be removed. The "accursed policy" of the tariff, 
 also, had established the fact of its birth and parentage 
 in the same State. No wonder, therefore, the gentleman 
 wished to carry the war, as he expressed it, into the 
 
208 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 enemy's country. Prudently willing to quit these sub- 
 jects, he was doubtless desirous of fastening others, which 
 could not be transferred south of Mason and Dixon's line. 
 The politics of New England became his theme; and it 
 was in this part of his speech, I think, that he menaced mc 
 with such sore discomfiture. 
 
 Discomfiture ! why, sir, when he attacks any thing which 
 I maintain, and overthrows it ; when he turns the right or 
 left of any position which I take up ; when he drives me 
 from any ground I choose to occupy, he may then talk of 
 discomfiture, but not till that distant day. What has he 
 done ? Has he maintained his own charges ? Has he 
 proved what he alleged ? Has he sustained himself in his 
 attack on the Government, and on the history of the 
 North, in the matter of the public lands ? Has he dis- 
 proved a fact, refuted a proposition, weakened an argu- 
 ment, maintained by me ? Has he come within beat of 
 drum of any position of mine '? Oh, no ; but he has 
 " carried the war into the enemy's country" ! Carried 
 the war into the enemy's country ! Yes, sir, and what 
 sort of a war has he made of it ? Why, sir, he has 
 stretched a drag-net over the whole surface of perished 
 pamphlets, indiscreet sermons, frothy paragraphs, and 
 fuming popular addresses ; over whatever the pulpit in 
 its monients of alarm, the press in its heats, and parties in 
 their extravagance, have severally thrown off, in times of 
 general excitement and violence. He has thus swept 
 together a mass of such things, as, but that they are now 
 old, the public health would have required him rather to 
 leave in their state of dispersion. 
 
 For a good long hour or two, we had the unbroken 
 pleasure of listening to the honorable member, while he 
 recited, with his usual grace and spirit, and with evident 
 high gusto, speeches, pamphlets, addresses, and all the et 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 209 
 
 ecteras of the political press, such as warm heads produce 
 in warm times, and such as it would be " discomfiture" 
 indeed for any one, whose taste did not delight in that 
 sort of reading, to be obliged to peruse. This is his war. 
 This is to carry the war into the enemy's country. It is 
 in an invasion of this sort that he flatters himself with 
 the expectation of gaining laurels fit to adorn a Senator's 
 brow. 
 
 Mr. President, I shall not, it will, I trust, not be ex- 
 pected that I should, either now or at any time, separate 
 this farrago into parts, and answer and examine its com- 
 ponents. I shall hardly bestow upon it all a general re- 
 mark or two. In the run of forty years, sir, under this 
 Constitution, we have experienced sundry successive 
 violent party contests. Party arose, indeed, with the 
 Constitution itself, and in some form or other has attended 
 through the greater part of its history. 
 
 Whether any other Constitution than the old articles 
 of confederation was desirable was, itself, a question on 
 which parties formed ; if a new Constitution was framed, 
 what powers should be given to it was another question ; 
 and when it had been formed, what was, in fact, the just 
 extent of the powers actually conferred, Avas a third. 
 Parties, as we know, existed under the first administra- 
 tion, as distinctly marked as those which manifested them- 
 selves at any subsequent period. 
 
 The contest immediately preceding the political change 
 in 1801, and that, again, which existed at the commence- 
 ment of the late war, are other instances of party excite- 
 ment of something more than usual strength and intensity. 
 In all these conflicts there was, no doubt, much of violence 
 on both and all sides. It would be impossible, if one had a 
 fancy for such employment, to adjust the relative quantum 
 of violence between these two contending parties. There 
 
 18* 
 
210 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 was enough in each, as must always be expected in popuLar 
 governments. With a great deal of proper and decorous 
 discussion there was mingled a great deal, also, of decla- 
 mation, virulence, crimination, and abuse. 
 
 In regard to any party, probably, at one of the leading 
 epochs in the history of parties, enough may be found to 
 make out another equally inflamed exhibition as that Avith 
 which the honorable member has edified us. For myself, 
 sir, I shall not rake among the rubbish of by-gone times 
 to see what I can find, or Avhether I cannot find something 
 by which I can fix a blot on the escutcheon of any State, 
 any party, or any part of the country. General Washing- 
 ton's administration was steadily and zealously maintained, 
 as we all know, by New England. It was violently op- 
 posed elsewhere. We know in what quarter he had the 
 most earnest, constant, and persevering support, in all his 
 great and leading measures. We know where his private 
 and personal character were held in the highest degree of 
 attachment and veneration ; and we know, too, where his 
 measures were opposed, his services slighted, and his cha- 
 racter vilified. 
 
 We know, or we might know, if we turn to the journals, 
 who expressed respect, gratitude, and regret, when he 
 retired from the chief-magistracy ; and who refused to 
 express either respect, gratitude, or regret. I shall not 
 open those journals. Publications more abusive or scurri- 
 lous never saw the light than were sent forth against 
 Washington, and all his leading measures, from presses 
 south of New England ; but I shall not look them up. 
 I employ no scavengers — no one is in attendance on me, 
 tendering such means of retaliation ; and if there were, 
 with an ass's load of them, with a bulk as huge as that 
 which the gentleman himself has produced, I would not 
 touch one of them. I se'e enough of the violence of our 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNB, 211 
 
 own times to be no way anxious to rescue from forgetful- 
 ness the extravagances of times past. Besides, what is 
 all this to the present purpose ? It has nothing to do with 
 the public lands, in regard to which the attack was begun ; 
 and it has nothing to do with those sentiments and 
 opinions, which I have thought tend to disunion, and all 
 of which the honorable member seems to have adopted 
 himself, and undertaken to defend. New England has, 
 at times, — so argues the gentleman, — held opinions as 
 dangerous as those which he now holds. Be it so. But 
 whj, therefore, does he abuse New England ? If he finds 
 himself countenanced by acts of hers, how is it that, 
 while he relies on these acts, he covers, or seeks to cover, 
 their authors with reproach? 
 
 But, sir, if, in the course of forty years, there have 
 been undue effervescences of party in New England, has 
 the same thing happened nowhere else ? Party animosity 
 and party outrage, not in New England, but elsewhere, 
 denounced President Washington, not only as a Federalist, 
 but as a tory, a British agent, a man who, in his high office, 
 sanctioned corruption. But does the honorable member 
 suppose that, if I had a tender here, who should put such 
 an eifusion of wickedness and folly in my hand, that I 
 would stand up and read it against the South ? Parties 
 ran into great heats, again, in 1799 and 1800. What was 
 said, sir, or rather what was not said, in those years, 
 against John Adams, one of the signers of the Declaration 
 of Independence, and its admitted ablest defender on the 
 floor of Congress? If the gentleman wants to increase 
 his stores of party abuse and frothy violence, if he has a 
 determined proclivity to such pursuits, there are treasures 
 of that sort south of the Potomac, much to his taste, yet 
 untouched. I shall not touch them. 
 
 The parties which divided the country, at the commence- 
 
212 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 ment of the late war, were violent. But, then, there Avas 
 violence on both sides, and violence in every State. 
 Minorities and majorities were equally violent. There 
 was no more violence against the war in New England 
 than in other States ; nor any more appearance of violence, 
 except that, owing to a dense population, greater facility 
 for assembling, and more presses, there may have been 
 more, in quantity, spoken and printed there than in some 
 other places. In the article of sermons, too. New England 
 is somewhat more abundant than South Carolina ; and for 
 that reason, the chance of finding here and there an ex- 
 ceptionable one may be greater. I hope, too, there are 
 more good ones. Opposition may have been more for- 
 midable in New England, as it embraced a larger portion 
 of the whole population ; but it was no more unrestrained 
 in its principle, or violent in manner. The minorities 
 dealt quite as harshly with their own State Governments 
 as the majorities dealt with the administration here. 
 There were presses on both sides, popular meetings on 
 both sides, ay, and pulpits on both sides, also. The 
 gentleman's purveyors have only catered for him among 
 the productions on one side. I certainly shall not supply 
 the deficiency by furnishing samples of the other. I leave 
 to him, and to them, the whole concern. 
 
 It is enough for me to say, that if, in any part of this 
 their grateful occupation — if in all their researches — they 
 find any thing in the history of Massachusetts, or New 
 England, or in the proceedings of any legislative or other 
 public body, disloyal to the Union, speaking slightly of 
 its value, proposing to break it up, or recommending non- 
 intercourse with neighboring States, on account of dif- 
 ference of political opinion, then, sir, I give them all up 
 to the honorable gentleman's unrestrained rebuke ; expect- 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 213 
 
 ing, however, that he will extend his buffetings, in like 
 manner, to all similar proceedings, wherever else found. 
 
 The gentleman, sir, has spoken at large of former 
 parties, now no longer in being, by their received appella- 
 tions, and has undertaken to instruct us, not only in the 
 knowledge of their principles, but of their respective 
 pedigrees also. He has ascended to their origin, and run 
 out their genealogies. With most exemplary modesty, he 
 speaks of the party to which he professes to have belonged 
 himself, as the true, pure, the only honest, patriotic party, 
 derived by regular descent, from father to son, from the 
 time of the virtuous Romans! Spreading before us the 
 family-tree of political parties, he takes especial care to 
 show himself snugly perched on a popular bough ! He 
 is wakeful to the expediency of adopting such rules of 
 descent, for political parties, as shall bring him in, in 
 exclusion of others, as an heir to the inheritance of all 
 public virtue, and all true political principles. His doxy 
 is always orthodoxy. Heterodoxy is confined to his op- 
 ponents. He spoke, sir, of the Federalists, and I thought 
 I saw some eyes begin to open and stare a little, when he 
 ventured on that ground. I expected he would draw his 
 sketches rather slightly, when he looked on the circle 
 round him, and especially if he should cast his thoughts 
 to the high places out of the Senate. Nevertheless, he 
 went back to Rome, ad a7mum urhe condita^ and found 
 the fathers of the Federalist in the primeval aristocrats of 
 that renowned empire ! He traced the flow of Federal 
 blood down through successive ages and centuries, till he 
 got into the veins of the American tories, (of whom, by- 
 the-way, there were twenty in the Carolinas for one in 
 Massachusetts.) From the tories, he followed it to the 
 Federalists ; and as the Federal party was broken up, and 
 there was no possibility of transmitting it farther on this 
 
214 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 side of the Atlantic, he seems to have discovered that it 
 has gone off, collaterally, though against all the canons 
 of descent, into the ultras of France, and finally became 
 extinguished, like exploded gas, among the adherents of 
 Don Miguel. 
 
 This, sir, is an abstract of the gentleman's history of 
 Federalism. I am not about to controvert it. It is not, 
 at present, worth the pains of refutation, because, sir, if at 
 this day one feels the sin of Federalism lying heavily on 
 his conscience, he can easily obtain remission. He may 
 even have an indulgence, if he is desirous of repeating the 
 transgression. It is an affair of no difficulty to get into 
 this same right line of patriotic descent. A man, now-a- 
 days, is at liberty to choose his political parentage. He 
 may elect his own father. Federalist or not, he may, if he 
 choose, claim to belong to the favored stock, and his claim 
 will be allowed. He may carry back his pretensions just 
 as far as the honorable gentleman himself; nay, he may 
 make himself out the honorable gentleman's cousin, and 
 prove satisfactorily that he is descended from the same 
 political great-grandfather. All this is allowable. We all 
 know a process, sir, by which the whole Essex Junto could, 
 in one hour, be all washed white from their ancient Fede- 
 ralism, and come out, every one of them, an original 
 Democrat, dyed in the wool ! Some of them have actually 
 undergone the operation, and they say it is quite easy. 
 The only inconvenience it occasions, as they tell us, is a 
 sliglit tendency of the blood to the face, a soft suffusion, 
 which, however, is very transient, since nothing is said 
 calculated to deepen the red on the cheek, but a prudent 
 silence observed in regard to all the past. Indeed, sir, 
 some smiles of approbation have been bestowed, and some 
 crumbs of comfort have fallen, not a thousand miles from 
 the door of the Hartford Convention itself. And if the 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 215 
 
 author of the ordinance of 1787 possessed the other re- 
 quisite qualifications, there is no knowing, notwithstanding 
 his Federalism, to what heights of favor he might not yet 
 attain. 
 
 Mr. President, in carrying his warfare, such as it was, 
 into New England, the honorable gentleman all along pro- 
 fesses to be acting on the defensive. He desires to con- 
 sider me as having assailed South Carolina, and insists 
 that he comes forth only as her champion, and in her de- 
 fence. Sir, I do not admit that I made any attack what- 
 ever on South Carolina. Nothins; like it. The honorable 
 member, in his first speech, expressed opinions, in regard 
 to revenue, and some other topics, which I heard both with 
 pain and surprise. I told the gentleman that I was aware 
 that such sentiments were entertained out of the Govern- 
 ment, but had not expected to find them advanced in it ; 
 that I knew there were persons in the South who speak of 
 our Union with indifference, or doubt, taking pains to 
 magnify its evils, and to say nothing of its benefits ; that 
 the honorable member himself, I was sure, could never be 
 one of these; and I regretted the expression of such opi- 
 nions as he had avowed, because I thought their obvious 
 tendency was to encourage feelings of disrespect to the 
 Union, and to weaken its connection. This, sir, is the sum 
 and substance of all I said on the subject. And this con- 
 stitutes the attack which called on the chivalry of 'the gen- 
 tleman, in his opinion, to harry us with such a forage 
 among the party pamphlets and party proceedings of Mas- 
 sachusetts. X If he means that I spoke with dissatisfaction 
 or disrespect of the ebullitions of individuals in South 
 Carolina, it is true. But if he means that I had assailed 
 the character of the State, her honor, or patriotism, that I 
 had reflected on her history or her conduct, he had not the 
 slightest ground for any such assumption. I did not even 
 
216 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 refer, I think, in my observations, to any collection of 
 individuals. I said nothing of the recent Conventions. I 
 spoke in the most guarded and careful manner, and only 
 expressed my regret for the publication of opinions which 
 I presumed the honorable member disapproved as much as 
 myself. In this, it seems, I was mistaken. 
 
 I do not remember that the gentleman has disclaimed 
 any sentiment, or any opinion, of a supposed anti-Union 
 tendency, which on all or any of the recent occasions has 
 been expressed. The whole drift of his speech has been 
 rather to prove, that, in divers times and manners, senti- 
 ments equally liable to objection have been promulgated in 
 New England, And one would suppose that his object, in 
 this reference to Massachusetts, was to find a precedent to 
 justify proceedings in the South, were it not for the re- 
 proach and contumely with which he labors, all along, to 
 load his precedents. 
 
 By way of defending South Carolina from what he 
 chooses to think an attack on her, he first quotes the ex- 
 ample of Massachusetts, and then denounces that example, 
 in good set terms. This twofold purpose, not very con- 
 sistent with itself, one would think, was exhibited more 
 than once in the course of his speech. Ho referred, for 
 instance, to the Hartford Convention. Did he do this for 
 authority, or for a topic of reproach? Apparently for 
 both ; for he told us that he should find no fault with the 
 mere fact of holding such a convention, and considering 
 and discussing such questions as he supposes were then 
 and there discussed ; but what rendered it obnoxious was 
 the time it was holden, and the circumstances of the country 
 then existing. We were in a war, he said, and the country 
 needed all our aid ; the hand of Government required to 
 be strengthened, not weakened ; and patriotism should 
 have postponed such proceedings to another day. The 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 217 
 
 thing itself, then, is a precedent ; the time and manner of 
 it, only, subject of censure. 
 
 Now, sir, I go much further, on this point, than the 
 honorable member. Supposing, as the gentleman seems 
 to, that the Hartford Convention assembled for any such 
 purpose as breaking up the Union, because they thought 
 unconstitutional laws had been passed, or to concert on 
 that subject, or to calculate the value of the Union ; sup- 
 posing this to be their purpose, or any part of it, then I 
 say the meeting itself was disloyal, and obnoxious to cen- 
 sure, whether held in time of peace, or time of war, or 
 under whatever circumstances. The material matter is the 
 object. Is dissolution the object ? If it be, external cir- 
 cumstances may make it a more or less aggravated case, 
 but cannot affect the principle. I do not hold, therefore, 
 that the Hartford Convention was pardonable, even to the 
 extent of the gentleman's admission, if its objects were 
 really such as ha,ve been imputed to it. Sir, there never 
 was a time, under any degree of excitement, in which the 
 Hartford Convention, or any other convention, could main- 
 tain itself one moment in New England, if assembled for 
 any such purpose as the gentleman says would have been 
 an allowable purpose. To hold conventions to decide 
 questions of constitutional law ! — to try the binding valid- 
 ity of statutes, by votes in a convention ! Sir, the Hart- 
 ford Convention, I presume, would not desire that the 
 honorable gentleman should be their defender or advocate, 
 if he puts their case upon such untenable and extravagant 
 grounds. 
 
 "" Then, sir, the gentleman has no fault to find with these 
 recently-promulgated South Carolina opinions. And, 
 certainly, he need have none ; for his own sentiments, as 
 now advanced, and advanced on reflection, as far as I have 
 been able to comprehend them, go the full length of all 
 
 19 
 
218 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEUSTER. 
 
 these opinions. I propose, sir, to say something on these, 
 and to consider how far they are just and constitutionah 
 Before doing that, however, let me observe, that the 
 eulogium pronounced on the character of the State of 
 South Carolina, by the honorable gentleman, for her Revo- 
 lutionary and other merits, meets my hearty concurrence. 
 I shall not acknowledge that the honorable member goes 
 before me in regard for whatever of distinguished talent 
 or distinguished character South Carolina has produced. 
 I claim part of the honor, I partake in the pride, of her 
 great names. I claim them for countrymen, one and all. 
 The Laurenses, the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sump- 
 ters, the Marions — Americans all — whose fame is no more 
 to be hemmed in by State lines than their talents and 
 patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within 
 the same narrow limits. In their day and generation, 
 they served and honored the country, and the whole 
 country; and their renown is of the treasures of the whole 
 country. Ilim whose honored name the gentleman himself 
 bears — does he suppose me less capable of gratitude for 
 his patriotism, or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his 
 eyes had first opened upon the light in Massachusetts 
 instead of South Carolina ? Sir, does he suppose it is in 
 his power to exhibit a Carolina name so bright as to pro- 
 duce envy in my bosom ? No, sir, increased gratification 
 and deligiit, rather. 
 
 Sir, I thank God that if I am gifted with little of the 
 spirit which is said to be able to raise mortals to the skies, 
 I have yet none, as I trust, of that other spirit which would 
 drag angels down. When I shall be found, sir, in my 
 place here in the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public 
 merit, because it happened to spring up beyond the little 
 limits of my own State, or neighborhood; when I refuse, 
 for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due to 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNR. 219 
 
 American talent, to elevated patriotism, to sincere devotion 
 to liberty and the country ; or if I see an uncommon en- 
 dowment of Heaven, if I see extraordinary capacity ard 
 virtue, in any son of the South, and if, moved by local 
 prejudice, or gangrened by State jealousy, I get up here 
 to abate the tithe of a hair from his just character and 
 just fame, — may my tongue cleave to the roof of my 
 mouth ! Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections ; let 
 me indulge in refreshing remembrance of the past ; let me 
 remind you that in early times no States cherished greater 
 harmony, both of principle and feeling, than Massachu- 
 setts and South Carolina. Would to God that harmony 
 might again return ! Shoulder to shoulder they went 
 through the Revolution ; hand in hand they stood round 
 the administration of Washington, and felt his own great 
 arm lean on them for support. Unkind feeling, if it exist, 
 alienation and distrust, are the growth, unnatural to such 
 soils, of false principles since sown. They are weeds, 
 the seeds of which that same great arm never scattered. 
 
 Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon 
 Massachusetts — she needs none. There she is — belioid 
 her, and judge for yourselves. There is her history — the 
 world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. 
 Ther^ is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker 
 Hill ; and there they will remain forever. The bones of 
 her sons, fallen in the great struggle for Independence, 
 now lie mingled with the soil of every State from New 
 England to Georgia; and there they will lie forever. 
 And, sir, where American liberty raised its first voice, and 
 where its youth was first nurtured and sustained, there it 
 still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its 
 original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it ; 
 if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear 
 it ; if folly and madness, if uneasiness under salutary and 
 
220 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 necessary restraint, shall succeed to separate it from that 
 Union by which alone its existence is made sure, — it -will 
 stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its 
 infancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm, with 
 whatever vigor it may still retain, over the friends who 
 gather round it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, 
 amidst the proudest monuments of its own glory, and on 
 the very spot of its origin. 
 
 There yet remains to be performed, Mr. President, by 
 far the most grave and important duty which I feel to be 
 devolved on me by this occasion. It is to state, and to 
 defend, what I conceive to be the true principles of the 
 Constitution under which we are here assembled. I might 
 well have desired that so weighty a task should have 
 fallen into other and abler hands. I could have wished 
 that it should have been executed by those whose cha- 
 racter and ejjperience give Avcight and influence to their 
 opinions, such as cannot possibly belong to mine. But, 
 sir, I have met the occasion, not sought it ; and I shall 
 proceed to state my own sentiments, without challenging 
 for them any particular regard, with studied plainness and 
 as much precision as possible. 
 
 I understand the honorable gentleman from South Caro- 
 lina to maintain that it is a right of the State legislatures 
 to interfere, Avhenever, in their judgment, this Government 
 transcends its constitutional limits, and to arrest the opera- 
 tion of its laws. 
 
 I understand him to maintain this rio-ht as a right ex- 
 isting under the Constitution, not as a right to overthrow 
 it, on the ground of extreme necessity, such as would 
 justify violent revolution. 
 
 I understand him to maintain an authority, on the part 
 of the States, thus to interfere, for the purpose of correct- 
 ing the exercise of power by the General Government, of 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 221 
 
 checking it, and of compelling it to conform to their opi- 
 nion of the extent of its power. 
 
 I understand him to maintain that the ultimate power 
 of judging of the constitutional extent of its own authority 
 is not lodged exclusively in the General Government or 
 any branch of it ; but that, on the contrary, the States 
 may lawfully decide for themselves, and each State for 
 itself, whether, in a given case, the act of the General 
 Government transcends its power. 
 
 I understand him to insist that, if the exigency of the 
 case, in the opinion of any State Government, require it, 
 such State Government may, by its own sovereign au- 
 thority, annul an act of the General Government which it 
 deems plainly and palpably unconstitutional. 
 
 This is the sum of what I understand from him to be 
 the South Carolina doctrine. I propose to consider it, 
 and to compare it with the Constitution. Allow me to 
 say, as a preliminary remark, that I call this the South 
 Carolina doctrine, only because the gentleman himself has 
 so denominated it. I do not feel at liberty to say that South 
 Carolina, as a State, has ever advanced these sentiments. 
 I hope she has not, and never may. That a great majority 
 of her people are opposed to the tariff-laws is doubtless 
 true. That a majority, somewhat less than that just 
 mentioned, conscientiously believe these laws unconstitu- 
 tional, may probably also be true. But that any majority 
 holds to the right of direct State interference, at State 
 discretion, the right of nullifying acts of Congress by acts 
 of State legislation, is more than I know, and what I shall 
 be slow to believe. 
 
 That there are individuals, besides the honorable gen- 
 tleman, who do maintain these opinions, is quite certain. I 
 recollect the recent expression of a sentiment which cir- 
 cumstances attending its utterance and publication justify 
 
 19* 
 
222 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 US in supposing was not unpremeditated — " The sovereignty 
 of the State : never to be controlled, construed, or decided 
 on, but by her own feelings of honorable justice." 
 
 [Mr. Hayne here rose, and said, that, for the purpose 
 of being clearly understood, he Avould state that his pro- 
 position was in the words of the Virginia resolution, as 
 follows : 
 
 " That this Assembly doth explicitly and peremptorily 
 declare, that it views the powers of the Federal Govern- 
 ment, as resulting from the compact to which the States 
 are parties, as limited by the plain sense and intention of 
 the instrument constituting that compact, as no further 
 valid than they are authorized by the grants enumerated 
 in that compact ; and that, in case of a deliberate, palpable, 
 and dangerous exercise of other powers not granted by the 
 said compact, the States who are parties thereto have the 
 right, and are in duty bound, to interpose for arresting the 
 progress of the evil, and for maintaining, within their 
 respective limits, the authorities, rights, and liberties per- 
 taining to them."] 
 
 Mr. Webster resumed : 
 
 I am quite aware, Mr. President, of the existence of the 
 resolution which the gentleman read, and has now repeated, 
 and that he relics on it as his authority. I know the 
 source, too, from which it is understood to have proceeded. 
 I need not say, that I have much respect for the constitu- 
 tional opinions of Mr. Madison : they would weigh greatly 
 with me, always. But, before the authority of his opinion 
 be vouched for the gentleman's proposition, it will be pro- 
 per to consider what is the fair interpretation of that resolu- 
 tion, to which Mr. Madison is understood to have given his 
 sanction. As tlie gentleman construes it, it is an authority 
 for him. Possibly he may not have adopted the right con- 
 struction. That resolution declares, that m the case of the 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 223 
 
 dangerous exercise of potoers not granted hij the General 
 Government^ the States mag i7iterpose to arrest the pro- 
 gress of the evil. But how interpose ? and what does this 
 declaration purport ? Does it mean no more than that 
 there may be extreme cases in which tlie people, in any 
 mode of assembling, may resist usurpation, and relieve 
 themselves from a tyrannical government? No one will 
 deny this. Such resistance is not only acknoAvledged to 
 be just in America, but in England also. Blackstone 
 admits as much, in the theory and practice, too, of the 
 English Constitution. We, sir, who oppose the Carolina 
 doctrine, do not deny that the people may, if they choose, 
 throw off any government, when it becomes oppressive and 
 intolerable, and erect a better in its stead. We all know 
 that civil institutions are established for the public benefit, 
 and that, when they cease to answer the ends of their ex- 
 istence, they may be changed. 
 
 But I do not understand the doctrine now contended for 
 to be that which, for the sake of distinctness, we may call 
 the right of revolution. I understand the gentleman to 
 maintain, that without revolution, without civil commotion, 
 without rebellion, a remedy for supposed abuse and trans- 
 gression of the powers of the General Government lies in 
 a direct appeal to the interference of the State Govern- 
 ments. [Mr. Hayne here rose : He did not contend, he 
 said, for the mere right of revolution, but for the right of 
 constitutional resistance. What he maintained was, that, 
 in case of a plain, palpable violation of the Constitution 
 by the General Government, a State may interpose ; and 
 that this interposition is constitutional.] Mr. Webster 
 resumed : 
 
 So, sir, I understood the gentleman, and am happy to 
 find that I did not misunderstand him. What he contends 
 for is, that it is constitutional to interrupt the administra- 
 
224 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 tion of the Constitution itself, in the hands of those who 
 are chosen and SAVorn to administer it, by the direct inter- 
 ference, in form of law, of the States, in virtue of their 
 sovereign capacity. The inherent right in the people to 
 reform their Government I do not deny ; and they have 
 another right, and that is, to resist unconstitutional laws, 
 without overturning the Government. It is no doctrine of 
 mine, that unconstitutional laws bind the people. The 
 great question is. Whose prerogative is it to decide on the 
 constitutionality or unconstitutionality of the laws? On 
 that the main debate hinges. The proposition that, in case 
 of a supposed violation of the Constitution by Congress, 
 the States have a constitutional right to interfere, and 
 annul the law of Congress, is the proposition of the gen- 
 tleman. I do not admit it. If the gentleman had intended 
 no more than to assert the right of revolution for justifiable 
 cause, he would have said only what all agree to. But I 
 cannot conceive that there can be a middle course between 
 submission to the laws, when regularly pronounced con- 
 stitutional, on the one hand, and open resistance, which is 
 revolution or rebellion, on the other. I say the right of a 
 State to annul a law of Congress cannot be maintained but 
 on the ground of the unalienable right of man to resist 
 oppression ; that is to say, upon the ground of revolution. 
 I admit that there is an ultimate violent remedy, above the 
 Constitution, and in defiance of the Constitution, which 
 may be resorted to, when a revolution is to be justified. 
 But I do not admit that, under the Constitution, and in 
 conformity with it, there is any mode in which a State 
 Government, as a member of the Union, can interfere and 
 stop the progress of the General Government, by force of 
 her own laws, under any circumstances whatever. 
 
 This leads us to inquire into the origin of this Govern- 
 ment, and the source of its power. Whose agent is it ? Is 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 225 
 
 it the creature of the State legislatures, or the creature of 
 the people ? If the Government of the United States be 
 the agent of the State Governments, then thej may control 
 it, provided they can agree in the manner of controlling it; 
 if it is the agent of the people, then the people alone can 
 control it, restrain it, modify or reform it. It is observable 
 enough, that the doctrine for which the honorable gentle- 
 man contends leads him to the necessity of maintaining, 
 not only that this General Government is the creature of 
 the States, but that it is the creature of each of the States 
 severally ; so that each may assert the power, for itself, of 
 determining whether it acts within the limits of its authority. 
 It is the servant of four-and-twenty masters, of different 
 wills and different purposes ; and yet bound to obey all. 
 This absurdity (for it seems no less) arises from a miscon- 
 ception as to the origin of this Government, and its true 
 character. It is, sir, the people's Constitution, the peo- 
 ple's Government; made for the people; made by the 
 people ; and answerable to the people. The people of the 
 United States have declared that this Constitution shall be 
 the supreme law. We must either admit the proposition, 
 or dispute their authority. The States are unquestionably 
 sovereign, so far as their sovereignty is not affected by this 
 supreme law. The State legislatures, as political bodies, 
 however sovereign, are yet not sovereign over the people. 
 So far as the people have given power to the General Go- 
 vernment, so far the grant is unquestionably good, and the 
 Government holds of the people, and not of the State 
 Governments. We are all agents of the same supreme 
 power, the people. The General Government and the 
 State Governments derive their authority from the same 
 source. Neither can, in relation to the other, be called 
 primary ; though one is definite and restricted, and the 
 other general and residuary. 
 
226 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 The national Government possesses those powers which 
 it can be shown the people have conferred on it, and no 
 more. All the rest belongs to the State Governments, or 
 to the people themselves. So far as the people have 
 restrained State sovereignty by the expression of their 
 will, in the Constitution of the United States, so far, it 
 must be admitted. State sovereignty is effectually con- 
 trolled. I do not contend that it is, or ought to be, con- 
 trolled further. The sentiment to which I have referred 
 propounds that State sovereignty is only to be controlled 
 by its own " feeling of justice ;" that is to say, it is not 
 to be controlled at all ; for one who is to follow his feel- 
 ings is under no legal control. Now, however men may 
 think this ought to be, the fact is, that the people of the 
 United States have chosen to impose control on State 
 sovereignties. The Constitution has ordered the matter 
 differently from what this opinion announces. To make 
 war, for instance, is an exercise of sovereignty ; but the 
 Constitution declares that no State shall make war. To 
 coin money is another exercise of sovereign power ; but no 
 State is at liberty to coin money. Again : the Constitu- 
 tion says, that no sovereign State shall be so sovereign as 
 to make a treaty. These prohibitions, it must be con- 
 fessed, are a control on the State sovereignty of South 
 Carolina, as well as of the other States, which does not 
 arise "from her own feelings of honorable justice." Such 
 an opinion, therefore, is in defiance of the plainest pro- 
 visions of the Constitution. 
 
 There are other proceedings of public bodies which have 
 already been alluded to, and to which I refer again for the 
 purpose of ascertaining more fully what is the length and 
 breadth of that doctrine, denominated the Carolina doc- 
 trine, which the honorable member has now stood up on 
 this floor to maintain. 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 227 
 
 In one of them I find it resolved that " the tariff of 
 1828, and every other tariff designed to promote one 
 branch of industry at the expense of others, is contrary 
 to the meaning and intention of the Federal compact ; and 
 as such, a dangerous, palpable, and deliberate usurpation 
 of power, by a determined majority, wielding the General 
 Government beyond the limits of its delegated powers, as 
 calls upon the States which compose the suffering minority, 
 in their sovereign capacity, to exercise the powers which^ 
 as sovereigns, necessarily devolve upon them when their 
 compact is violated." 
 
 Observe, sir, that this resolution holds the tariff of 1828, 
 and every other tariff designed to promote one branch of 
 industry at the expense of another, to be such a dangerous, 
 palpable, and deliberate usurpation of power, as calls upon 
 the States, in their sovereign capacity, to interfere by their 
 own power. This denunciation, Mr. President, you will 
 please to observe, includes our old tariff of 1816, as well 
 as all others ; because that was established to promote the 
 interest of the manufactures of cotton, to the manifest and 
 admitted injury of the Calcutta cotton-trade. Observe, 
 again, that all the qualifications are here rehearsed, and 
 charged upon the tariff, which are necessary to bring the 
 case within the gentleman's proposition. The tariff is a 
 usurpation ; it is a dangerous usurpation ; it is a palpable 
 usurpation; it is a deliberate usurpation. It is such a 
 usurpation as calls upon the States to exercise their right 
 of interference. Here is a case, then, within the gentle- 
 man's principles, and all his qualifications of his principles. 
 It is a case for action. The Constitution is plainly, dan- 
 gerously, palpably, and deliberately violated; and the 
 States must interpose their own authority to arrest the 
 law. Let us suppose the State of South Carolina to ex- 
 press this same opinion, by the voice of her legislature. 
 
228 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 That would be very imposing ; but -what then ? Is the 
 voice of one State conclusive ? It so happens that, at the 
 very moment when South Carolina resolves that the tariff- 
 laws are unconstitutional, Pennsylvania and Kentucky 
 resolve exactly the reverse. Tltey hold those laws to be 
 both highly proper and strictly constitutional. And now, 
 sir, how does the honorable member propose to deal with 
 this case ? How does he get out of this difficulty, upon 
 any principle of his ? His construction gets us into it ; 
 how does he propose to get us out ? 
 
 In Carolina, the tariff' is a palpable, deliberate usurpa- 
 tion ; Carolina, therefore, may nullify it, and refuse to 
 pay the duties. In Pennsylvania, it is both clearly con- 
 stitutional and highly expedient ; and there the duties are 
 to be paid. And yet we live under a Government of 
 uniform laws, and under a Constitution, too, which con- 
 tains an express provision, as it happens, that all duties 
 shall be equal in all the States ! Does not this approach 
 absurdity ? 
 
 If there be no power to settle such questions, independent 
 of either of the States, is not the whole Union a rope of 
 sand ? Are we not thrown back again precisely upon the 
 old Confederation ? 
 
 It is too plain to be argued. Four-and-twenty interpre- 
 ters of constitutional law, each with a power to decide for 
 itself, and none with authority to bind anybody else, and 
 this constitutional law the only bond of their union ! What 
 is such a state of things but a mere connection during 
 pleasure, or, to use the phraseology of the times, during 
 feeling f And that feeling, too, not the feeling of the 
 people who established the Constitution, but the feeling of 
 the State Governments. 
 
 In another of the South Carolina addresses, having pre- 
 mised that the crisis requires " all the concentrated energy 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 229 
 
 of passion," an attitude of open resistance to the laws of 
 the Union is advised* Open resistance to the laws, then, 
 is the constitutional remedy, the conservative power of the 
 State, which the South Carolina doctrines teach for the 
 redress of political evils, real or imaginary. And its 
 authors further say that, appealing with confidence to the 
 Constitution itself to justify their opinions, they cannot 
 consent to try their accuracy by the courts of justice. In 
 one sense, indeed, sir, this is assuming an attitude of open 
 resistance in favor of liberty. But what sort of liberty ? 
 The liberty of establishing their own opinions, in defiance 
 of the opinions of all others; the liberty of judging and 
 of deciding exclusively themselves, in a matter in which 
 others have as much right to judge and decide as they; the 
 liberty of placing their opinions above the judgment of all 
 others, above the laws, and above the Constitution. This 
 is their liberty, and this is the fair result of the proposition 
 contended for by the honorable gentleman. Or it may be 
 more properly said, it is identical with it, rather than a 
 result from it. In the same publication we find the follow- 
 ing : "Previously to our Revolution, when the arm of 
 oppression was stretched over New England, where did 
 our Northern brethren meet with a braver sympathy than 
 that which sprung from the bosom of Carolinians ? We 
 had no extortion, no oppression, no collision with the king's 
 ministers, no navigation interests springing up, in envious 
 rivalry of England.''' 
 
 This seems extraordinary language. South Carolina no 
 collision with the king's ministers in 1775 ! no extortion ! 
 no oppression ! But, sir, it is also most significant language. 
 Does any man doubt the purpose for which it was penned ? 
 Can any one fail to see that it was designed to raise in the 
 reader's mind the question, whether, at this «me,— that is 
 to say, in 1828, — South Carolina has any collision with 
 
 20 
 
230 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 the king's ministers, any oppression, or extortion, to fear 
 from England? wliether, in shorty England is not as 
 naturally the friend of South Carolina as New England, 
 with lier navigation interests springing up in envious 
 rivalry of England ? 
 
 Is it not strange, sir, that an intelligent man in South 
 Carolina, in 1828, should thus labor to prove, that, in 
 1775, there was no hostility, no cause of w\ar, between 
 South Carolina and England ? that she had no occasion, 
 in reference to her own interest, or from a regard to her 
 own Avelfare, to take up arms in the Revolutionary con- 
 test ? Can any one account for the expression of such 
 strange sentiments, and their circulation through the 
 State, otherwise than by supposing the object to be, what 
 I have already intimated, to raise the question, if they 
 had no ^^ collision" (mark the expression) with the ministers 
 of King George the Third, in 1775, what collision have 
 they, in 1828, with the ministers of King George the 
 Fourth? What is there now, in the existing state of 
 things, to separate Carolina from Old, more, or rather 
 less, than from Neiv, England ? 
 
 Resolutions, sir, have been recently passed by the 
 Legislature of South Carolina. I need not refer to them ; 
 they go no further than the honorable gentleman himself 
 has gone — and I hope not so far. I content myself, there- 
 fore, with debating the matter with him. 
 
 And now, sir, what I have first to say on the subject is, 
 that at no time, and under no circumstances, has New 
 England, or any State in New England, or any respectable 
 body of persons in New England, or any public man of 
 standing in New England, put forth such a doctrine as this 
 Carolina doctrine. 
 
 The gentleman has found no case — he can find none — 
 to support his own opinions by New England authority. 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 251 
 
 New En2;lancl has studied the Constitution in other schools, 
 and under other teachers. She looks upon it with 
 other regards, and deems more highly and reverently 
 both of its just authority and its utility and excellence. 
 The history of her legislative proceedings may be traced 
 — the ephemeral eifusions of temporary bodies, called 
 together by the excitement of the occasion, may be hunted 
 up — they have been hunted up. The opinions and votes 
 of her public men, in and out of Congress, may be ex- 
 plored — it will all be in vain. The Carolina doctrine can 
 derive from her neither countenance nor support. She 
 rejects it now ; she always did reject it ; and till she loses 
 her senses, she always will reject it. The honorable 
 member has referred to expressions on the subject of the 
 embargo law, made in this place by an honorable and 
 venerable gentleman (Mr. Hillhouse) now favoring us with 
 his presence. He quotes that distinguished Senator as 
 saying, that in his judgment the embargo law was uncon- 
 stitutional, and that, therefore, in his opinion, the people 
 were not bound to obey it. 
 
 That, sir, is perfectly constitutional language. An 
 unconstitutional law is not binding ; hut then it does 7iot 
 rest with a resolution or a laiv of a State legislature to 
 decide whether an act of Congress he or he not constitu- 
 tional. An unconstitutional act of Congress would not 
 bind the people of this District, although they have no 
 legislature to interfere in their behalf; and, on the other 
 hand, a constitutional law of Congress does bind the 
 citizens of every State, although all their legislatures 
 should undertake to annul it, by act or resolution. The 
 venerable Connecticut Senator is a constitutional lawyer, 
 of sound principles and enlarged knowledge ; a states- 
 man practised and experienced, bred in the company of 
 Washington, and holding just views upon the nature of our 
 
232 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 Governments. He believed the embargo unconstitutional, 
 and so did others ; but what then ? Who did he suppose 
 was to decide that question? The State legislatures? 
 Certainly not. No such sentiment ever escaped his lips. 
 Let us follow up, sir, this New England opposition to the 
 embargo laws ; let us trace it, till we discern the principle 
 which controlled and governed New England throughout 
 the whole course of that opposition. We shall then see 
 what similarity there is between the New England school 
 of constitutional opinions and this modern Carolina school. 
 The gentleman, I think, read a petition from some single 
 individual, addressed to the Legislature of Massachusetts, 
 asserting the Carolina doctrine — that is, the right of State 
 interference to arrest the laws of the Union. The fate 
 of that petition shows the sentiment of the Legislature. 
 It met no favor. The opinions of Massachusetts were 
 otherwise. They had been expressed in 1798, in answer 
 to the resolutions of Virginia, and she did not depart from 
 them, nor bend them to the times. Misgoverned, wronged, 
 oppressed, as she felt herself to be, she still held fast her 
 integrity to the Union. The gentleman may find in her 
 proceedings much evidence of dissatisfaction with the 
 measures of Government, and great and deep dislike to 
 the embargo ; all this makes the case so much the stronger 
 for her ; for, notwithstanding all this dissatisfaction and 
 dislike, she claimed no right still to sever asunder the 
 bonds of the Union. There was heat and there was anger 
 in her political feeling. Be it so. Her heat or her anger 
 did not, nevertheless, betray her into infidelity to the 
 Government. The gentleman labors to prove that she 
 disliked the embargo as much as South Carolina dislikes 
 the tariff, and expressed her dislike as strongly. Be it so ; 
 hut did she jjrojwse the Carolina remedy ? Did she 
 threaten to interfere, hy State authority, to annul the 
 
KEPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 2-33 
 
 Imvs of the Union f That is the question for the gentle- 
 man's consideration. 
 
 No doubt, sir, a great majority of the people of New 
 England conscientiously believed the embargo law of 
 1807 unconstitutional — as conscientiously, certainly, as the 
 people of South Carolina hold that opinion of the tariff. 
 They reasoned thus : Congress has power to regulate com- 
 merce ; but here is a law, they said, stopping all com- 
 merce, and stopping it indefinitely. The law is perpetual ; 
 that is, it is not limited in point of time, and must of course 
 continue till it shall be repealed by some other law. It is 
 as perpetual, therefore, as the law against treason or mur- 
 der. Now, is this regulating commerce, or destroying it ? 
 Is it guiding, controlling, giving the rule to commerce, as 
 a subsisting thing, or is it putting an end to it altogether ? 
 Nothing is more certain than that, a majority in New Eng- 
 land deemed this law a violation of the Constitution. The 
 very case required by the gentleman to justify State 
 interference had then arisen. Massachusetts believed this 
 law to be "a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise* 
 of a power not granted by the Co7istitution." Deliberate 
 it was, for it was long continued ; palpable she thought it, 
 as no words in the Constitution gave the power, and only 
 a construction, in her opinion most violent, raised it ; 
 dangerous it was, since it threatened utter ruin to her 
 most important interests. Here, then, was a Carolina 
 case. How did Massachusetts deal with it ? It was, as 
 she thought, a plain, manifest, palpable violation of the 
 Constitution ; and it brought ruin to her doors. Thou- 
 sands of families, and hundreds of thousands of indi- 
 viduals, were beggared by it. While she saw and felt all 
 this, she saw and felt, also, that as a measure of national 
 policy, it was perfectly futile ; and that the country was 
 no way benefited by that which caused so much indi- 
 
 20* 
 
234 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 vidual distress ; and that it was efficient only for the pro- 
 duction of evil, and all that evil inflicted on ourselves. In 
 such a case, under such circumstances, hov? did Massa- 
 chusetts demean herself? Sir, she remonstrated, she 
 memorialized, she addressed herself to the General Govern- 
 ment, not exactly " with the concentrated energy of pas- 
 sion," but with her strong sense, and the energy of sober 
 conviction. But she did not interpose the arm of her 
 power to arrest the law, and break the embargo. Far 
 from it. Her principles bound her to two things ; and 
 she followed her principles, lead where they might. First, 
 to submit to every constitutional law of Congress ; and? 
 secondly, if the constitutional validity of the law be 
 doubted, to refer that question to the decision of the pro- 
 per tribunals. The first principle is vain and inefi^ectual 
 without the second. A majority of us in New England 
 believed the embargo law unconstitutional ; but the great 
 question was, and always will be, in such cases. Who is to 
 decide this ? Who is to judge between the people and the 
 Government ? And, sir, it is quite plain, that the Con- 
 stitution of the United States confers on the Government 
 itself, to be exercised by its appropriate department, this 
 power of deciding, ultimately and conclusively, upon the 
 just extent of its own authority. If this had not been 
 done, we should not have advanced a single step beyond 
 the old Confederation. 
 
 Being fully of opinion that the embargo law was uncon- 
 stitutional, the people of New England were yet equally 
 clear in the opinion — it was a matter they did not doubt 
 upon — that the question, after all, must be decided by the 
 judicial tribunals of the United States. Before those 
 tribunals, therefore, they brought the question. Under 
 the provisions of the law, they had given bonds, to millions 
 in amount, and which were alleged to be forfeited. They 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 235 
 
 suffered the bonds to be sued, and thus raised the question. 
 In the old-fashioned way of settling disputes, they went to 
 law. The case came to hearing and solemn argument ; 
 and he who espoused their cause and stood up for them 
 against the validity of the act, was none other than that 
 great man, of whom the gentleman has made honorable 
 mention, Samuel Dexter. He was then, sir, in the ful- 
 ness of his knowledge and the maturity of his strength. 
 He had retired from long and distinguished public service 
 here, to the renewed pursuit of professional duties ; carrying 
 with him all that enlargement and expansion, all the new 
 strength and force, which an acquaintance with the more 
 general subjects discussed in the national councils is capable 
 of adding to professional attainment, in a mind of true 
 greatness and comprehension. He was a lawyer, and he 
 was also a statesman. He had studied the Constitution, 
 when he filled public station, that he might defend it ; he 
 had examined its principles, that he might maintain them. 
 More than all men, or at least as much as any man, he 
 was attached to the General Government, and to the union 
 of the States. His feelings and opinions all ran in that 
 direction. A question of constitutional law, too, was, of 
 all subjects, that one Avhich was best suited to his talents 
 and learning. Aloof from technicality, and unfettered by 
 artificial rule, such a question gave opportunity for that 
 deep and clear analysis, that mighty grasp of principle, 
 which so much distinguished his higher efforts. His very 
 statement was argument ; his inference seemed demonstra- 
 tion. The earnestness of his own conviction wrought con- 
 viction in others. One was convinced, and believed, and 
 assented, because it was gratifying, delightful, to think, 
 and feel, and believe, in unison with an intellect of such 
 evident superiority. 
 
 Mr. Dexter, sir, such as I have described him, argued 
 
236 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 the New England cause. He put into his effort his whole 
 heart, as well as all the powers of his understanding ; for 
 he had avowed, in the most public manner, his entire con- 
 currence with his neighbors, on the point in dispute. He 
 argued the cause ; it was lost, and New England submitted. 
 The established tribunals pronounced the law constitutional, 
 and New England acquiesced. Now, sir, is not this the 
 exact opposite of the doctrine of the gentleman from South 
 Carolina ? According to him, instead of referring to the 
 judicial tribunals, we should have broken up the embargo, 
 by laws of our own ; we should have repealed it, quoad 
 New England ; for we had a strong, palpable, and oppress- 
 ive case. Sir, we believed the embargo unconstitutional ; 
 but still, that was matter of opinion, and who was to decide 
 it ? We thought it a clear case ; but, nevertheless, we did 
 not take the laws into our hands, because we did not wish 
 to bring about a revolution, nor to break up the Union; 
 for I maintain, that, between submission to the decision of 
 the constituted tribunals, and revolution, or disunion, there 
 is no middle ground — there is no ambiguous condition, half 
 allegiance and half rebellion. There is no treason made cosy. 
 And, sir, how futile, how very futile, it is, to admit the right 
 of State interference, and then to attempt to save it from 
 the character of unlawful resistance, by adding terms of 
 qualification to the causes and occasions, leaving all the 
 qualifications, like the case itself, in the discretion of the 
 State Governments ! It must be a clear case, it is said ; a 
 deliberate case ; a palpable case ; a dangerous case. But, 
 then, the State is still left at liberty to decide for herself 
 what is clear, what is deliberate, what is palpable, what is 
 dangerous. 
 
 Do adjectives and epithets avail any thing ? Sir, the 
 human mind is so constituted, that the merits of both sides 
 of a controversy appear very clear, and very palpable, to 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 2^7 
 
 those who respectively espouse them, and both sides usually 
 grow clearer, as the controversy advances. South Carolina 
 sees unconstitutionality in the tariff — she sees oppression 
 there, also, and she sees danger. Pennsylvania, with a 
 vision not less sharp, looks at the same tariff, and sees no 
 such thing in it — she sees it all constitutional, all useful, all 
 safe. The faith of South Carolina is strengthened by op- 
 position, and she now not only sees, but resolves, that the 
 tariff is palpably unconstitutional, oppressive, and dan- 
 gerous : but Pennsylvania, not to be behind her neighbors, 
 and equally willing to strengthen her own faith by a con- 
 fident asseveration, resolves also, and gives to every warm 
 aflBrmative of South Carolina, a plain, downright Penn- 
 sylvania negative. South Carolina, to show the strength 
 and unity of her opinions, brings her assembly to a unani- 
 mity, within seven votes ; Pennsylvania, not to be outdone 
 in this respect more than others, reduces her dissentient 
 fraction to five votes. Now, sir, again I ask the gentle- 
 man, what is to be done ? Are these States both right ? 
 Is he bound to consider them both right ? If not, which 
 is in the wrong ? or, rather, which has the best right to 
 decide ? 
 
 And if he, and if I, are not to know what the Con- 
 stitution means, and what it is, till those two State legis- 
 latures, and the twenty-two others, shall agree in its 
 construction, what have we sworn to, when we have sworn 
 to maintain it ? I was forcibly struck, sir, with one re- 
 flection, as the gentleman went on with his speech. He 
 quoted Mr. Madison's resolutions to prove that a State 
 may interfere, in a case of deliberate, palpable, and 
 dangerous exercise of a power not granted. The honor- 
 able member supposes the tariff-law to be such an exercise 
 of power, and that,, consequently, a case has arisen in 
 which the State may, if it see fit, interfere by its own law. 
 
238 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 Now, it SO happens, nevertheless, that Mr. Madison him- 
 self deems this same tariff-law quite constitutional. In- 
 stead of a clear and palpable violation, it is, in his judg- 
 ment, no violation at all. So that, while they use his 
 authority for a hypothetical case, they reject it in the very 
 case before them. All this, sir, shows the inherent futility 
 — I had almost used a stronger word — of conceding this 
 power of interference to the States, and then attempting 
 to secure it from abuse by imposing qualifications of which 
 the States themselves are to judge. One of two things is 
 true : either the laws of the Union are beyond the control 
 of the States, or else we have no Constitution of General 
 Government, and are thrust back again to the days of the 
 Confederacy. 
 
 Let me here say, sir, that if the gentleman's doctrine 
 had been received and acted upon in New England, in the 
 times of the embargo and non-intercourse, we should pro- 
 bably not now have been here. The Government would 
 very likely have gone to pieces and crumbled into dust. 
 No strono;er case can ever arise than existed under those 
 laws ; no States can ever entertain a clearer conviction 
 than the New England States then entertained ; and if 
 they had been under the influence of that heresy of opi- 
 nion, as I must call it, which the honorable member 
 espouses, this Union would, in all probability, have been 
 scattered to the four winds. I ask the gentleman, there- 
 f "e, to apply his principles to that case ; I ask him to 
 cou* forth and declare whether, in his opinion, the New 
 England States would have been justified in interfering to 
 break up the embargo system, under the conscientious 
 opinions which they held upon it. Had they a right to 
 annul that law ? Does he admit, or deny ? If that which 
 is thought palpably unconstitutional in South Carolina 
 justifies that State in arresting the progress of the law, 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 239 
 
 tell me "whether that which was thought palpably un- 
 constitutional also in Massachusetts would have justified 
 her in doing the same thing. Sir, I deny the whole doc- 
 trine. It has not a foot of ground in the Constitution to 
 stand on. No public man of reputation ever advanced it 
 in Massachusetts, in the warmest times, or could maintain 
 himself upon it there at any time. 
 
 I wish now, sir, to make a remark upon the Virginia 
 resolutions of 1798. I cannot undertake to say how these 
 resolutions were understood by those who passed them. 
 Their lano-uage is not a little indefinite. In the case of 
 the exercise, by Congress, of a dangerous power, not 
 granted to them, the resolutions assert the right, on the 
 part of the State, to interfere, and arrest the progress of 
 the evil. This is susceptible of more than one interpreta- 
 tion. It may mean no more than that the States may 
 interfere by complaint and remonstrance, or by proposing 
 to the people an alteration of the Federal Constitution. 
 This would all be quite unobjectionable ; or it may be 
 that no more is meant than to assert the general right of 
 revolution, as against all Governments, in cases of in- 
 tolerable oppression. This no one doubts ; and this, in 
 my opinion, is all that he who framed these resolutions 
 could have meant by it ; for I shall not readily believe 
 that he was ever of opinion that a State, under the Con- 
 stitution, and in conformity with it, could, upon the ground 
 of her own opinion of its unconstitutionality, however clear 
 and palpable she might think the case, annul a law of Con- 
 gress, so far as it should operate on herself, by her own 
 legislative power. 
 
 I must now beg to ask, sir. Whence is this supposed 
 right of the States derived ? Where do they get the 
 power to interfere with the laws of the Union ? Sir, the 
 opinion which the honorable gentleman maintains is a 
 
240 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 notion founded in a total misapprehension, in my judgment, 
 of the origin of this Government, and of the foundation on 
 which it stands. I hold it to be a popular Government, 
 erected by the people, those who administer it responsible 
 to the people, and itself capable of being amended and 
 modified, just as the people may choose it should be. It 
 is as popular, just as truly emanating from the people, as 
 the State Governments. It is created for one purpose ; 
 the State Governments for another. It has its own 
 powers ; they have theirs. There is no more authority 
 with them to arrest the operation of a law of Congress, 
 than with Congress to arrest the operation of their laws. 
 We are here to administer a Constitution emanating from 
 the people, and trusted by them to our administration. It 
 is not the creature of the State Governments. It is of no 
 moment to the argument that certain acts of the State 
 legislatures are necessary to fill our seats in this body. 
 That is not one of their original State powers, a part of 
 the sovereignty of the State. It is a duty which the 
 people, by the Constitution itself, have imposed on the 
 State legislatures, and which they might have left to be 
 performed elsewhere, if they had seen fit. So they have 
 left the choice of President with electors ; but all this does 
 not affect the proposition that this whole Government — 
 President, Senate, and House of Representatives — is a 
 popular Government. It leaves it still all its popular cha- 
 racter. The Governor of a State (in some of the States) 
 is chosen not directly by the people, but by those who are 
 chosen by the people for the purpose of performing, among 
 other duties, that of electing a Governor. Is the Govern- 
 ment of the State on that account not a popular Govern- 
 ment ? This Government, sir, is the independent offspring 
 of the popular will. It is not the creature of State legis- 
 latures ; nay, more, if the whole truth must be told, the 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 241 
 
 people brought it into existence, established it, and have 
 hitherto supported it, for the very purpose, amongst others, 
 of imposing certain salutary restraints on State sovereign- 
 tics. The States cannot now make war ; they cannot con- 
 tract alliances ; they cannot make, each for itself, separate 
 regulations of commerce ; they cannot lay imposts ; they 
 cannot coin money. If this Constitution, sir, be the 
 creature of State legislatures, it must be admitted that it 
 has obtained a strange control over the volitions of its 
 creators. 
 
 The people then, sir, erected this Government. They 
 gave it a Constitution, and in that Constitution they have 
 enumerated the powers which they bestow on it. They 
 have made it a limited Government. They have defined 
 its authority. They have restrained it to the exercise of 
 such powers as are granted ; and all others, they declare, 
 are reserved to the States or the people. But, sir, they 
 have not stopped here. If they had, they would have 
 accomplished but half their work. No definition can be 
 so clear as to avoid possibility of doubt ; no limitation so 
 precise as to exclude all uncertainty. Who, then, shall 
 construe this grant of the people ? Who shall interpret 
 their will, where it may be supposed they have left it 
 doubtful ? With whom do they leave this ultimate right 
 of deciding on the powers of the Government ? Sir, they 
 have settled all this in the fullest manner. They have 
 left it with the Government itself, in its appropriate 
 branches. Sir, the very chief end, the main design for 
 which the whole Constitution was framed and adopted, was 
 to establish a Govei'nment that should not be obliored to 
 act through State agency, or depend on State opinion and 
 discretion. The people had had quite enough of that 
 kind of Government under the Confederacy. Under that 
 system, the legal action — the application of law to indi- 
 
 21 
 
242 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTEK. 
 
 viduals — belonged exclusively to the States. Congress 
 could only reconimend — their acts were not of binding 
 force till the States had adopted and sanctioned them. 
 Are we in that condition still ? Are we yet at the mercy 
 of State discretion and State construction ? Sir, if we 
 are, then vain will be our attempt to maintain the Con- 
 stitution under which we sit. 
 
 But, sir, the people have wisely provided, in the Con- 
 stitution itself, a proper, suitable mode and tribunal for 
 settling questions of constitutional law. There are, in the 
 Constitution, grants of powers to Congress, and restric- 
 tions on those powers. There are also prohibitions on the 
 States. Some authority must therefore necessarily exist, 
 having the ultimate jurisdiction to fix and ascertain the 
 interpretation of these grants, restrictions, and prohibi- 
 tions. The Constitution has itself pointed out, ordained, 
 and established that authority. How has it accomplished 
 this great and essential end? By declaring, sir, that '•'■the 
 Constitution, and the laws of the United States, made in 
 pursuance thereof, shall be the supreme law of the land, 
 any thing in the Constitution or laws of any State to the 
 contrary notwithstanding .' ' 
 
 This, sir, was the first great step. By this, the supre- 
 macy of the Constitution and laws of the United States is 
 declared. The people so will it. No State law is to be 
 valid which comes in conflict with the Constitution or any 
 law of the United States. But who shall decide this ques- 
 tion of interference ? To whom lies the last appeal ? This, 
 sir, the Constitution itself decides also, by declaring '''■that 
 the judicial power shall exteyid to all cases arising under 
 the Constitution and laws of the United States." These 
 two provisions, sir, cover the whole ground. They are, in 
 truth, the keystone of the arch. With these it is a Con- 
 stitution ; without them it is a Confederacy. In pursuance 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 243 
 
 of these clear and express provisions, Congress established, 
 at its very first session, in the judicial act, a mode for carry- 
 ing them into full effect, and for bringing all questiMUS 
 of constitutional power to the final decision of the Supreme 
 Court. It then, sir, became a government. It then had 
 the means of self-protection ; and but for this, it would, in 
 all probability, have been now among things which are 
 passed. Having constituted the Government, and declared 
 its powers, the people have further said that, since some- 
 body must decide on the extent of these powers, the Govern- 
 ment shall itself decide — subject always, like other popular 
 governments, to its responsibility to the people. And now, 
 sir, I repeat, how is it that a State legislature acquires 
 any right to interfere? Who, or what, gives them the 
 right to say to the people, " We, who are your agents and 
 servants for one purpose, will undertake to decide, that 
 your other agents and servants, appointed by you for 
 another purpose, have transcended the authority you gave 
 them" ? The reply would be, I think, not impertinent, 
 "Who made you a judge over another's servants? To 
 their own masters they stand or fall." 
 
 Sir, I deny this power of State legislatures altogether. 
 It cannot stand the test of examination. Gentlemen may 
 Bay, that, in an extreme case, a State Government might 
 protect the people from intolerable oppression. Sir, in 
 such a case the people might protect themselves, without 
 the aid of the State Governments. Such a case warrants 
 revolution. It must make, when it comes, a law for itself. 
 A nullifying act of a State legislature cannot alter the 
 case, nor make resistance any more lawful. In maintain- 
 ing these sentiments, sir, I am but asserting the rights of 
 the people. I state what they have declared, and insist on 
 their right to declare it. They have chosen to repose this 
 
244 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTEK. 
 
 power in the General Government, and I think it my duty 
 to support it, like other constitutional powers. 
 
 For myself, sir, I doubt the jurisdiction of South Caro- 
 lina, or any other State, to prescribe my constitutional 
 duty, or to settle, between me and the people, the validity 
 of laws of Congress for which I have voted. I decline her 
 umpirage. I have not sworn to support the Constitution 
 according to her construction of its clauses. I have not 
 stipulated, by my oath of office or otherwise, to come under 
 any responsibility, except to the people and those whom 
 they have appointed to pass upon the question, whether 
 the laws, supported by my votes, conform to the Constitu- 
 tion of the country. And, sir, if we look to the general 
 nature (.;f the case, could any thing have been more pre- 
 posterous than to have made a government for the whole 
 Union, and yet left its powers subject, not to one inter- 
 pretation, but to thirteen or twenty-four interpretations ? 
 Instead of one tribunal, established by all, responsible to 
 all, with power to decide for all, shall constitutional ques- 
 tions be left to four-and-twenty popular bodies, each at 
 liberty to decide for itself, and none bound to respect the 
 decisions of others, and each at liberty, too, to give a new 
 , construction, on every new election of its own members ? 
 Would any thing, with such a principle in it, or rather 
 with such a destitution of all principle, be fit to be called 
 a government ? No, sir. It should not be denominated 
 a Constitution. It should be called, rather, a collection 
 of topics for everlasting controversy ; heads of debate for 
 a disputatious people. It would not be a government. It 
 would not be adequate to any practical good, nor fit for any 
 country to live under. To avoid all possibility of being 
 misunderstood, allow me to repeat again, in the fullest 
 manner, that I claim no powers for the Government by 
 forced or unfair construction. I admit that it is a govern- 
 
REPLY TO MR. HATNE. 245 
 
 ment of strictly limited powers; of enumerated, specified, 
 and particularized powers ; and that whatsoever is not 
 granted is withheld. But, notwithstanding all this, and 
 however the grant of powers may be expressed, its limits 
 and extent may yet, in some cases, admit of doubt ; and 
 the General Government would be good for nothing, it 
 •would be incapable of long existence, if some mode had 
 not been provided in which those doubts, as they should 
 arise, might be peaceably, but authoritatively, solved. 
 
 And now, Mr. President, let me run the honorable gen- 
 tleman's doctrine a little into its practical application. Let 
 us look at his probable modus operandi. If a thing can 
 be done, an ingenious man can tell how it is to be done. 
 Now, I wish to be informed how this State interference is 
 to be put in practice. We will take the existing case of 
 the tariff-law. South Carolina is said to have made up her 
 opinion upon it. If we do not repeal it, (as we probably 
 shall not,) she Avill then apply to the case the remedy of 
 her doctrine. She will, we must suppose, pass a law of 
 her Legislature, declaring the several acts of Congress, 
 usually called the tariff-laws, null and void, so far as they 
 respect South Carolina, or the citizens thereof. So far, 
 
 ft; 
 
 all is a paper transaction, and easy enough. But the col- 
 lector at Charleston is collecting the duties imposed by 
 these tariff-laws — he, therefore, must be stopped. The 
 collector will seize the goods if the tariff-duties are not 
 paid. The State authorities will undertake their rescue : 
 the marshal, with his posse, will come to the collector's 
 aid ; and here the contest begins. The militia of the State 
 will be called out to sustain the nullifying act. They will 
 march, sir, under a very gallant leader ; for I believe the 
 honorable member himself commands the militia of that 
 part of the State. He will raise the nullifying act on 
 his standard, and spread it out as his banner. It will have 
 
 21* 
 
246 SPEECHES OF DAJS^IEL WEBSTER, 
 
 a preamble, bearing tbat the tariff-laws are palpable, deli- 
 berate, and dangerous violations of the Constitution. He 
 will proceed, with his banner fijing, to the custom-house in 
 
 Charleston, — 
 
 " all the while 
 Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds." 
 
 Arrived at the custom-house, he will tell the collector that 
 he must collect no more duties under any of the tariff- 
 laws. This he will be somewhat puzzled to say, by-the- 
 way, with a giave countenance, considering what hand 
 South Carolina herself had in that of 1816. But, sir, the 
 collector would, probably, not desist at his bidding. Here 
 would ensue a pause ; for they say that a certain stillness 
 precedes the tempest. Before this military array should 
 fall on the custom-house, collector, clerks, and all, it is 
 very probable some of those composing it would request 
 of their gallant commiinder-in-chief to be informed a little 
 upon the point of law ; for they have doubtless a just 
 respect for his opinions as a lawyer, as well as for his 
 bravery as a soldier. They know he has read Blackstone 
 and the Constitution, as well as Turenne and Vauban. 
 They would ask him, therefore, something concerning their 
 rights in this matter. They would inquire whether it was 
 not somo'vhat dangerous to resist a law of the United 
 States. What would be the nature of their offence, they 
 would wish to learn, if they, by military force and array, 
 resisted the execution in Carolina of a law of the United 
 States, and it should turn out, after all, that the law was 
 constitutional? He would answer, of course, treason. No 
 lawyer could give any other answer. John Fries, he would 
 tell them, had learned that some years ago. How, then, 
 they would ask, do you propose to defend us ? We are 
 not afraid of bullets, but treason has a way of taking people 
 off that we do not much relish. How do you propose to 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 247 
 
 defend us? "Look at mj floating banner," he would 
 reply: "sec there the nullifying laiv r Is it your opi- 
 nion, gallant commander, they would then say, that if we 
 should be indicted for treason, that same floating banner 
 of yours would make a good plea in bar ? " South Caro- 
 Ima is a sovereign State," he would reply. That is true ; 
 but would the judge admit our plea ?, " These tarifi--laws,'' 
 he would repeat, "are unconstitutional, palpably, delibe- 
 rately, dangerously." That all may be so; but if the 
 tribunals should not happen to be of that opinion, shall we 
 swing for it ? We are ready to die for our country, but it 
 18 rather an awkward business, this dying without touching 
 the ground. After all, this is a sort of hemp-t^x, worse 
 than any part of the tarifi". 
 
 Mr. President, the honorable gentleman would be in a 
 dilemma like that of another great general. He would 
 have a knot before him which he could not untie. He must 
 cut it with his sword. He must say to his followers. Defend 
 yourselves with your bayonets; and this is war— civil war. 
 Direct collision, therefore, between force and force, is 
 the unavoidable result of that remedy for the revision 'of 
 unconstitutional laws which the gentleman contends for. 
 It must happen in the very first case to which it is applied. 
 Is not this the plain result ? To resist, by force, the execu- 
 tion of a law, generally, is treason. Can the courts of the 
 United States take notice of the indulgence of a State to 
 commit treason? The common saying, that a State cannot 
 commit treason herself, is nothing to the purpose. Can it 
 authorize others to do it ? If John Fries had produced an 
 act of Pennsylvania, annulling the law of Congress, would 
 it have helped his case ? Talk about it as we will, these 
 doctrines go the length of revolution. They are incom- 
 patible with any peaceable administration of the Govern- 
 ment. They lead dii-ectly to disunion and civH commotion; 
 
248 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 and therefore it is, that at the commencement, when they 
 are first found to be maintained by respectable men, and in 
 a tangible form, that I enter my public protest against 
 them all. 
 
 The honorable gentleman argues, that if this Govern- 
 ment be the sole judge of the extent of its own powers, 
 whether that right of judging be in Congress or the Supreme 
 Court, it equally subverts State sovereignty. This the 
 gentleman sees, or thinks he sees, although he cannot per- 
 ceive how the right of judging, in this matter, if left to the 
 exercise of State legislatures, has any tendency to subvert 
 the Government of the Union. The gentleman's opinion 
 may be that the right ought not to have been lodged with 
 the General Government ; he may like better such a Con- 
 stitution as we should have under the right of State inter- 
 ference ; but I ask him to meet me on the plain matter of 
 fact — I ask him to meet me on the Constitution itself — I 
 ask him if the power is not found there — clearly and visibly 
 found there. 
 
 But, sir, what is this danger, and what the grounds of 
 it? Let it be remembered, that the Constitution of the 
 United States is not unalterable. It is to continue in its 
 present form no longer than the people who established it 
 shall choose to continue it. If they shall become convinced 
 that they have made an injudicious or inexpedient partition 
 and distribution of power between the State Governments 
 and the General Government, they can alter that distribu- 
 tion at will. 
 
 If any thing be found in the national Constitution, 
 either by original provision or subsequent interpretation, 
 which ought not to be in it, the people know how to get rid 
 of it. If any construction be established, unacceptable to 
 them, so as to become, practically, a part of the Constitu- 
 tion, they will amend it at their own sovereign pleasure. 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 249 
 
 But while the people choose to maintain it as it is, while 
 they are satisfied with it, and refuse to change it, who has 
 given, or who can give, to the State legislatures a right to 
 alter it, either by interference, construction, or otherwise ? 
 Gentlemen do not seem to recollect that the people have any 
 power to do any thing for themselves ; they imagine there 
 is no safety for them any longer than they are under the 
 close guardianship of the State legislatures. Sir, the 
 people have not trusted their safety, in regard to the gene- 
 ral Constitution, to these hands. They have required other 
 security, and taken other bonds. They have chosen to 
 trust themselves, first, to the plain words of the instrument, 
 and to such construction as the Government itself, in' 
 doubtful cases, should put on its own powers, under their 
 oaths of office, and subject to their responsibility to them; 
 just as the people of a State trust their own State Govern- 
 ment with a similar power. Secondly, they have reposed 
 their trust in the efficacy of frequent elections, and in their 
 own power to remove their own servants and agents when- 
 ever they see cause. Thirdly, they have reposed trust in 
 the judicial power, which, in order that it might be trust- 
 worthy, they have made as respectable, as disinterested, 
 and as independent as practicable. Fourthly, they have 
 seen fit to rely, in case of necessity, or high expediency, 
 on their known and admitted power to alter or amend the 
 Constitution, peaceably and quietly, whenever experience 
 shall point out defects or imperfections. And finally, the 
 people of the United States have at no time, in no way, 
 directly or indirectly, authorized any State legislature to 
 construe or interpret their instrument of government ; 
 much less to interfere, by their own power, to arrest its 
 course and operation. 
 
 If, sir, the people, in these respects, had done otherwise 
 than they have done, their Constitution could neither have 
 
2v50 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 been preserved, nor would it have been worth preserving. 
 And if its plain provision shall now b^ disregarded, and 
 these new doctrines interpolated in it, it will become as 
 feeble and helpless a being as enemies, whether early or 
 more recent, could possibly desire. It will exist in every 
 State, but as a poor dependent on State permission. It 
 ' must borrow leave to be, and will be, no longer than State 
 pleasure, or State discretion, sees fit to grant the indul- 
 gence and to prolong its poor existence. 
 
 But, sir, although there are fears, there are hopes also. 
 The people have preserved this, their own chosen Constitu- 
 tion, for forty years, and have seen their happiness, pros- 
 perity, and renown grow with its growth and strengthen 
 with its strength. They are now, generally, strongly at- 
 tached to it. Overthrown by direct assault it cannot be ; 
 evaded, undermined, nullified, it will not be, if we, and 
 those who shall succeed us here, as agents and representa- 
 tives of the people, shall conscientiously and vigilantly 
 discharge the two great branches of our public trust — 
 faithfully to preserve and wisely to administer it. 
 
 Mr. President, I have thus stated the reasons of my 
 dissent to the doctrines which have been advanced and 
 maintained. I am conscious of having detained you, and 
 the Senate, much too long. I was drawn into the debate, 
 with no previous deliberation such as is suited to the dis- 
 cussion of so grave and important a subject. But it is a 
 subject of which my heart is full, and I have not been 
 willing to suppress the utterance of its spontaneous senti- 
 ments. 
 
 I cannot, even now, persuade myself to relinquish it, 
 Avithout expressing, once more, my deep conviction, that 
 since it respects nothing less than the Union of the States, 
 it is of most vital and essential importance to the public 
 happiness. I profess, sir, in my career hitherto, to have 
 
REPLY TO MR. HAYNE. 251 
 
 kept steadily in view the prosperity and honor of the 
 whole country, and the preservation of our Federal Union. 
 It is to that Union we owe our safety at home, and our 
 consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that Union 
 that we are chiefly indebted for whatever makes us most 
 proud of our country. That Union we reached only by 
 the discipline of our virtues in the severe school of ad- 
 versity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered 
 finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under 
 its benign influences, these great interests immediately 
 awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness 
 of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh 
 proofs of its utility and its blessings ; and although our 
 territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our 
 population spread farther and farther, they have not out- 
 run its protection or its benefits. It has been to us all a 
 copious fountain of national, social, personal happiness. 
 I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the Union, 
 to see what might lie hidden in the dark recesses behind. 
 I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving 
 liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be 
 broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang 
 over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with my 
 short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below ; 
 nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor in the aff'airs 
 of this Government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent 
 on considering, not how the Union should be best pre- 
 served, but how tolerable might be the condition of the 
 people when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While 
 the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying pros- 
 pects spread out before us, for us and our children. Be- 
 yond 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 
 
252 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 behind. When mv eves shall be turned to behold, for the 
 last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on 
 the broken and dishonored fragments of a once-glorious 
 Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on 
 a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in 
 fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, 
 rather, behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now 
 known and honored throughout the earth, still full high 
 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 inter- 
 rogatory as. What is all this worth ? nor those other 
 words of delusion and folly, Libert^/ first, and Union 
 afterwards ; but everywhere, spread all over in cha- 
 racters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as 
 they float over the sea and over the land^ and in every 
 wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear 
 to every true American heart, — Liberty and Union, now 
 and forever, one and inseparable ! 
 
II. 
 
 In the Senate of the United States, 3Iareh 7, 1850, on the Slavery 
 
 Comjjromise. 
 
 The Vice-President. The resolutions submitted bj 
 the Senator from Kentucky were made the special order 
 of the day at 12 o'clock. On this subject the Senator 
 from Wisconsin (Mr. Walker) has the floor. 
 
 Mr. Walker. Mr. President, this vast audience has not 
 assembled to hear me ; and there is but one man, in my 
 opinion, who can assemble such an audience. They expect 
 to hear him, and I feel it to be my duty, as well as my plea- 
 sure, to give the floor therefore to the Senator from Mas- 
 sachusetts. I understand it is immaterial to him upon 
 which of these questions he speaks, and therefore I will 
 not move to postpone- the special order. 
 
 Mr. Webster. I beg to express my obligations to my 
 friend from Wisconsin, (Mr. Walker,) as well as to my 
 friend from New York, (Mr. Seward.) for their courtesy in 
 allowing me to address the Senate this morning. 
 
 Mr. President : I wish to speak to-day, not as a Mas- 
 sachusetts man, nor as a Northern man, but as an Ame- 
 rican, and a member of the Senate of the United States. 
 It is fortunate that there is a Senate of the United States ; 
 a body not yet moved from its propriety, not lost to a just 
 sense of its own dignity and its own high responsibilities, 
 and a body to which the country looks with confidence for 
 wise, moderate, patriotic, and healing counsels. It is not 
 
 22 253 
 
254 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 to be denied that we live in the midst of strong agitations, 
 and are surrounded by very considerable dangers to our 
 institutions of government. The imprisoned winds are let 
 loose. The East, the West, the North, and the stormy 
 South, all combine to throw the whole ocean into commo- 
 tion, to toss its billows to the skies, and to disclose its pro- 
 foundest depths. I do not affect to regard myself, Mr. 
 President, as holding, or as fit to hold, the helm in this 
 combat of the political elements ; but I have a duty to 
 perform, and I mean to perform it with fidelity — not with- 
 out a sense of surrounding dangers, but not without hope. 
 I have a part to act, not for my own security or safety, for 
 I am looking out for no fragment upon which to float away 
 from the wreck, if wreck there must be, but for the good 
 of the whole, and the preservation of the whole ; and there 
 is that which will keep me to my duty during this struggle, 
 whether the sun and the stars shall appear, or shall not 
 appear, for many days. I speak to-day for the preserva- 
 tion of the Union. " Hear me for my cause." I speak 
 to-day, out of a solicitous and anxious heart, for the 
 restoration to the country of that quiet and that harmony 
 which make the blessings of this Union so rich and so dear 
 to us all. These are the topics that I propose to myself to 
 discuss ; these are the motives, and the sole motives, that 
 influence me in the wish to communicate my opinions to 
 the Senate and the country ; and if I can do any thing, 
 however little, for the promotion of these ends, I shall have 
 accomplished all that I desire. 
 
 Mr. President, it may not be amiss to recur very briefly 
 to the events which, equally sudden and extraordinary, 
 have brought the political condition of the country to what 
 it now is. In May, 1846, the United States declared war 
 ai^ainst Mexico. Her armies, then on the frontiers, entered 
 the provinces of that Republic ; met and defeated all her 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 255 
 
 troops ; penetrated her mountain-passes, and occupied her 
 capital. The marine force of the United States took pos- 
 session of her forts and her towns on the Atlantic and on 
 the Pacific. In less than two years a treaty was negotiated, 
 by which Mexico ceded to the United States a vast ter- 
 ritory, extending seven or eight hundred miles along the 
 shores of the Pacific, reaching back over the mountains, 
 and across the desert, and until it joined the frontier of the 
 State of Texas. It so happened that in the distracted and 
 feeble state of the Mexican Government, before the declara- 
 tion of war by the United States against Mexico had be- 
 come known in California, the people of California, under 
 the lead of American officers, overthrew the existing pro- 
 vincial Government of California — the Mexican authorities 
 — and ran up an independent flag. When the news arrived 
 . at San Francisco that war had been declared by the United 
 States against Mexico, this independent flag was pulled 
 down, and the stars and stripes of this Union hoisted in 
 its stead. So, sir, before the war was over, the powers of 
 the United States, military and naval, had possession of 
 San Francisco and Upper California, and a great rush of 
 emigrants from various parts of the world took place into 
 California in 1846 and 1847. But now behold another 
 wonder. 
 
 In January of 1848, the Mormons, it is said, or some 
 of them, made a discovery of an extraordinary rich mine 
 of gold — or, rather, of a very great quantity of gold, 
 hardly fit to be called a mine, for it was spread near the 
 surface — on the lower part of the south or American 
 branch of the Sacramento. They seem to have attempted 
 to conceal their discovery for some time; but soon another 
 discovery, perhaps of greater importance, was- made of 
 gold, in another part of the Amerixjan branch of the Sacra- 
 mento, and near Sutter's Fort, as it is called. The fame 
 
256 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 of these discoveries spread far and wide. They cxcih'd 
 more and more the spirit of emigration toward California, 
 which had already been excited ; and persons crowded in 
 hundreds, and flocked toward the Bay of San Francisco. 
 This, as I have said, took place in the winter and spring 
 of 1848. The digging commenced in the spring of that 
 year, and from that time to this the work of searching for 
 gold has been prosecuted Avith a success not heretofore 
 known in the history of this globe. We all know, sir, how 
 incredulous the American public was at the accounts which 
 reached us at first of these discoveries ; but we all know 
 now that these accounts received, and continue to receive, 
 daily confirmation ; and down to the present moment I 
 suppose the assurances are as strong, after the experience 
 of these several months, of mines of gold apparently inex- 
 haustible in the regions near San Francisco, in California, 
 as they were at any period of the earlier dates of the ac- 
 counts. It so happened, sir, that although in the time of 
 peace, it became a very important subject for legislative 
 consideration and legislative decision to provide a proper 
 territorial Government for California, yet difi"erences of 
 opinion in the counsels of the Government prevented the 
 establishment of any such territorial Government for Cali- 
 fornia, at the last session of Congress. Under this state 
 of things, the inhabitants of San Francisco and California 
 — then amounting to a great number of people — in the 
 summer of last year, thought it to be their duty to esta- 
 blish a local Government. Under the proclamation of 
 General Riley, the people chose delegates to a convention : 
 that convention met at Monterey. They formed a Con- 
 stitution for the State of California, and it was adopted by 
 the people of California in their primary assemblages. 
 Desirous of immediate connection with the United States, 
 its Senators were appointed and representatives chosen, 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPEOJMISE. 25T 
 
 wlio have come hither, bringing with them the authentic 
 Constitution of the State of California ; and they now 
 present themselves, asking, in behalf of their State, that 
 the State may be admitted into this Union as one of the 
 United States. This Constitution, sir, contains an express 
 prohibition against slavery or involuntary servitude in the 
 State of California. It is said, and I suppose truly, that 
 of the members who composed that convention, some six- 
 teen were natives and had been residents of the slave- 
 holding States, about twenty-two were from the non-slave- 
 holding States, and the remaining ten members were either 
 native Californians or old settlers in that country. This 
 prohibition against slavery, it is said, was inserted with 
 entire unanimity. 
 
 Mr. Hale. Will the Senator give way until order is 
 restored ? 
 
 The Vice-President. The sergeant-at-arms will see 
 that order is restored, and no more persons admitted to the 
 floor. 
 
 Mr. Cass. I trust the scene of the other day will not 
 be repeated. The sergeant-at-arms must display more 
 energy in suppressing this disorder. 
 
 Mr. Hale. The noise is outside of the door. 
 
 Mr. Webster. And it is this circumstance, sir, the 
 prohibition of slavery by that" convention, which has con- 
 tributed to raise — I do not say it has wholly raised — the 
 dispute as to the propriety of the admission of California 
 into the Union under this Constitution. It is not to be 
 denied, Mr. President — nobody thinks of denying — that, 
 whatever reasons were assigned at the commencement of 
 the late war with Mexico, it was prosecuted for the pur- 
 pose of the acquisition of territory, and under the alleged 
 argument that the cession of territory was the only form 
 in which proper compensation could be made to the United 
 
 22* 
 
258 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 States by Mexico for the various claims and demands 
 whicli the people of this country had against that Govern- 
 ment. At any rate, it will be found that President Polk's 
 message, at the commencement of the session of Decem- 
 ber, 1847, avowed that the war was to be prosecuted until 
 some acquisition of territory was made. And, as the ac- 
 quisition was to be south of the line of the United States, 
 in warm climates and countries, it was naturally, I sup- 
 pose, expected by the South, that whatever acquisitions 
 were made in that region would be added to the slave- 
 holding portion of the United States. Events turned out 
 as was not expected, and that expectation has not been 
 realized ; and therefore some degree of disappointment 
 and surprise has resulted, of course. In other words, it is 
 obvious that the question which has so long harassed the 
 country, and at some times very seriously alarmed the 
 minds of wise and good men, has come upon us for a 
 fresh discussion, — the question of slavery in these United 
 States. 
 
 Now, sir, I propose — perhaps at the expense of some 
 detail and consequent detention of the Senate — to review, 
 historically, this question of slavery, which, partly in con- 
 sequence of its own merits, and partly, perhaps mostly, in 
 the manner it is discussed in one and the other portion of 
 the country, has been a source of so much alienation and 
 unkind feeling between the different portions of the Union. 
 We all know, sir, that slavery has existed in the world 
 from time immemorial. There was slavery^ in the earliest 
 periods of history, in the Oriental nations. There was 
 slavery among the Jews ; the theocratic Government of 
 that people made no injunction against it. There was 
 slavery among the Greeks ; and the ingenious philosophy 
 of the Greeks found, or sought to find, a justification for 
 it exactly upon the grounds which have been assumed for 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 259 
 
 such a justification in this country ; that is, a natural and 
 orisinal difference amono; the races of mankind, the in- 
 feriority of the black or colored race to the white. The 
 Greeks justified their system of 'slavery upon that ground 
 precisely. They held the African, and in some parts 
 the Asiatic, tribes to be inferior to the white race ; but 
 they did not show, I think, by any close process of logic, 
 that, if this were true, the more intelligent and stronger 
 had, therefore, a right to subjugate the weaker. 
 
 The more manly philosophy and jurisprudence of the 
 Romans placed the justification of slavery on entirely 
 different grounds. 
 
 The Roman jurists, from the first, and down to the fall 
 of the Empire, admitted that slavery was against the 
 natural law, by which, as they maintained, all men, of 
 whatsoever clime, color, or capacity, were equal ; but they 
 justified slavery, first, upon the ground and authority of 
 the law of nations — arguing, and arguing truly, that at 
 that day the conventional law of nations admitted that 
 captives in war, Avhose lives, according to the notions of 
 the times, were at the absolute disposal of the captors, 
 might, in exchange for exemption from death, be made 
 slaves for life, and that such servitude might extend to 
 their posterity. The jurists of Rome also maintained, 
 that, by the civil law, there might be servitude — slavery, 
 personal and hereditary ; first, by the voluntary act of 
 an individuarl who might sell himself into slavery ; secOnd, 
 by his being received into a state of slavery by his credi- 
 tors in satisfaction of a debt ; and, thirdly, by being placed 
 in a state of servitude or slavery for crime. At the intro- 
 duction of Christianity into the world, the Roman world 
 was full of slaves ; and I suppose there is to be found no 
 injunction against that relation between man and man in 
 the teachings of the gospel of Jesus Christ or any of his 
 
2C0 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 apostles. The object of the instruction imparted to man- 
 kind by the Founder of Christianity was to touch the 
 heart, purify the soul, and improve the lives of individual 
 men. That object went directly to the first fountain of 
 all political and all social relations of the human race— 
 the individual heart and mind of man. 
 
 Now, sir, upon the general nature, and character, and 
 influence of slavery, there exists a wide difference between 
 the Northern portion of this country and the Southern. 
 It is said on the one side that, if not the subject of any 
 injunction or direct prohibition in the New Testament, 
 slavery is a wrong ; that it is founded merely in the right 
 of the strongest ; and that it is an oppression, like all 
 unjust wars, like all those conflicts by which a mighty 
 nation subjects a weaker nation to their will ; and that 
 slavery, in its nature, whatever may be said of it in 
 modifications which have taken place, is not, in fact, ac- 
 cording to the meek spirit of the gospel. It is not kindly 
 afl'ectioned; it does not "seek another's, and not its own." 
 It does not "let the oppressed go free." These are sen- 
 timents that are cherished, and recently with greatly 
 auo-mented force, among the people of the Northern 
 States. It has taken hold of the religious sentiment of 
 that part of the country, as it has more or less taken hold 
 of the religious feelings of a considerable portion of man- 
 kind. The South, upon the other side, having been ac- 
 customed to this relation between the two races all their 
 lives, from their birth — having been taught in general to 
 treat the subjects of this bondage with care and kindness 
 — and I believe, in general, feeling for them great care 
 and kindness — have yet not taken this view of the subject 
 which I have mentioned. There are thousands of religious 
 men, with consciences as tender as any of their brethren 
 at the North, who do not see the unlawfulness of slavery ; 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMIPR. 261 
 
 and there are more thousands, perhaps, that, whatsoever 
 they may think of it in its origin, and as a matter de- 
 pending upon natural right, yet take things as they are, 
 and, finding slavery to be an established relation of the 
 society in which they live, can see no way in which — let 
 their opinions on the abstract question be what they may 
 — it is in the power of the present generation to relieve 
 themselves from this relation. And in this respect candor 
 obliges me to say, that I believe they are just as con- 
 scientious, many of them, and of the religious people all 
 of them, as they are in the North in holding different 
 opinions. 
 
 Why, sir, the honorable Senator from South Carolina, 
 the other day, alluded to the separation of that great 
 religious community, the Methodist Episcopal Church. 
 That separation was brought about by differences of opi- 
 nion upon this peculiar subject of slavery. I felt great 
 concern, as that dispute went on, about the result, and I 
 was in hopes that the differences of opinion might be ad- 
 justed, because I looked upon that religious denomination 
 as one of the great props of religion and morals through- 
 out the whole country, from Maine to Georgia. The 
 result was against my wishes and against my hopes. I 
 have read all their proceedings, and all their arguments, 
 but I have never yet been able to come to the conclusion 
 that there was any real ground for that separation ; in 
 other words, that no good could be produced by that 
 separation. I must say I think there was some want of 
 candor and charity. Sir, when a question of this kind 
 takes hold of the religious sentiments of mankind, and 
 comes to be discussed in religious assemblies of the clergy 
 and laity, there is always to be expected, or always to be 
 feared, a great degree of excitement. It is in the nature 
 of man, manifested by his whole history, that religious 
 
262 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 disputes are apt to become warm, and men's strength of 
 conviction is proportionate to their views of the magnitude 
 of the questions. In all such disputes there will some- 
 times men be found with whom every thing is absolute — 
 absolutely wropg, or absolutely right. They see the right 
 clearly ; they think others ou j;ht to see it, and they are 
 disposed to establish a broad line of distinction between 
 what is right and what is wrong. And they are not 
 seldom willing to establish that line upon their own con- 
 victions of the truth and the justice of their own opinions ; 
 and are willing to mark and guard that line, by placing 
 along it a series of dogmas, as lines of boundary are 
 marked by posts and stones. There are men who, with 
 clear perceptions, as they think, of their own duty, do 
 not see how too hot a pursuit of one duty may involve 
 them in the violation of others, or how too warm an em- 
 bracement of one truth may lead to a disregard of other 
 truths equally important. As I heard it stated strongly, 
 not many days ago, these persons are disposed to mount 
 upon some particular duty as upon a war-horse, and to 
 drive furiously on, and upon, and over all other duties 
 that may stand in the way. There are men who, in times 
 of that sort, and disputes of that sort, are of opinion that 
 human duties may be ascertained with the exactness of 
 mathematics. They deal with morals as with mathematics, 
 and they think what is right may be distinguished from 
 what is wrong with the precision of an algebraic equation. 
 They have, therefore, none too much charity toward others 
 who differ from them. They are apt, too, to think that 
 nothing is good but what is perfect, and that there are no 
 compromises or modifications to be made in submission to 
 diJBFerence of opinion, or in deference to other men's judg- 
 ment. If their perspicacious vision enables them to detect 
 a spot on the face of the sun, they think that a good 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 263 
 
 reason why the sun should be struck do^yn from heaven. 
 They prefer the chance of running into utter darkness, to 
 living in heavenly light, if that heavenly light be not ab- 
 solutely without any imperfection. There are impatient 
 men — too impatient always to give heed to the admonition 
 of St. Paul, " that we are not to do evil that good may 
 come" — too impatient to wait for the slow progress of 
 moral causes, in the improvement of mankind. They do 
 not remember, that the doctrines and the miracles of Jesus 
 Christ have, in eighteen hundred years, converted only a 
 small portion of the human race ; and among the nations 
 that are converted to Christianity, they forget how many 
 vices and crimes, public and private, still prevail, and that 
 many of them — public crimes especially, which are oifences 
 against the Christian religion. — pass without exciting par- 
 ticular regret or indignation. Thus wars are waged, and 
 unjust wars. I do not deny that there may be just wars. 
 There certainly are ; but it was the remark of an eminent 
 person, not many years ago, on the other side of the 
 Atlantic, that it was one of the greatest reproaches to 
 human nature that wars were sometimes necessary. The 
 defence of nations sometimes causes a war against the 
 injustice of other nations. 
 
 Now, sir, in this state of sentiment upon the general 
 nature of slavery, lies the cause of a great portion of 
 those unhappy divisions, exasperations, and reproaches 
 which find vent and support in difi"erent parts of the 
 Union. Slavery does exist in the United States. It did 
 exist in the States before the adoption of this Constitu- 
 tion, and at that time. 
 
 And now let us consider, sir, for a moment, what was 
 the state of sentiment, North and South, in regard to 
 slavery, at the time this Constitution was adopted. A 
 remarkable change has taken place since ; but what did 
 
264 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 the wise and great men of all parts of the country think 
 of slavery? — in what estimation did they hold it then, 
 when this Constitution was adopted ? Now, it will be 
 found, sir, if we will carry ourselves by historical research 
 back to that day, and ascertain men's opinions by authentic 
 records still existing among us, that there was no great 
 diversity of opinion between the North and the South upon 
 the subject of slavery; and it will be found that both 
 parts of the country held it equally an evil — a moral and 
 political evil. It will not be found that either at the 
 North or at the South there was much, though there was 
 some, invective against slavery, as inhuman and cruel. 
 The great ground of objection to it was political ; that it 
 weakened the social fabric ; that, taking the place of free 
 labor, society was less strong and labor was less produc- 
 tive ; and, therefore, we find, from all the eminent men 
 of the time, the clearest expression of their opinion that 
 slavery was an evil. And they ascribed its existence here, 
 not without truth, and not without some acerbity of temper 
 and force of language, to the injurious policy of the 
 mother-country, who, to favor the navigator, had entailed 
 these evils upon the colonies. I need hardly refer, sir, to 
 the publications of the day. They are matters of history 
 on the record. The eminent men, the most eminent men, 
 and nearly all the conspicuous politicians of the South, 
 held the same sentiments ; that slavery was an evil, a 
 blight, a blast, a mildew, a scourge, and a curse. There 
 are no terms of reprobation of slavery so vehement in 
 the North of that day as in the South. The North was 
 not so much excited against it as the South, and the reason 
 is, I suppose, because there was much less at the North, 
 and the people did not see, or think they saw, the evils so 
 prominently as they were seen, or thought to be seen, at 
 the South. 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 265 
 
 Then, sir, when this Constitution was framed, this was 
 the light in which the convention vicAved it. The conven- 
 tion reflected the judgment and sentiments of the great 
 men of the South. A member of the other House, whom 
 I have not the honor to know, in a recent speech, has col- 
 lected extracts from these public documents. Thej prove 
 the truth of what I am saying, and the question then was, 
 how to deal with it, and how to deal with it as an evil. 
 Well, they came to this general result. They thought 
 that slavery could not be continued in the country, if the 
 importation of slaves were made to cease, and therefore 
 they provided that after a certain period the importation 
 might be prevented by the act of the new Government. 
 Twenty years were proposed by some gentleman, — a 
 Northern gentleman, I think, — and many of the Southern 
 gentlemen opposed it as being too long. Mr. Madison 
 especially was something warm against it. He said it 
 would bring too much of this mischief into the country to 
 allow the importation of slaves for such a period. Because 
 we must take along with us, in the whole of this discussion, 
 when we are considering the sentiments and opinions in 
 which this constitutional provision originated, that the con- 
 viction of all men was, that, if the importation of slaves 
 ceasedy the Avhite race would multiply faster than the black 
 race, and that slavery w^ould therefore gradually wear out 
 and expire. It may not be improper here to allude to 
 that, I had almost said, celebrated opinion of Mr. Madison. 
 You observe, sir, that the term "slave" or "slavery" is 
 not used in the Constitution. The Constitution does not 
 require that "fugitive slaves" shall be delivered up. It 
 requires that " persons bound to service in one State, and 
 escaping into another, shall be delivered up." Mr. Madison 
 opposed the introduction of the term "slave" or "slavery" 
 into the Constitution ; for he said that he did not wish to 
 
 23 
 
266 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 see it recognised by the Constitution of the United States 
 of America, that there could be property in men. Now, 
 sir, all this took place at the convention in 1787 ; but con- 
 nected with this — concurrent and contemporaneous — is 
 another important transaction not sufficiently attended to. 
 The convention for framing this Constitution assembled in 
 Philadelphia in May, and sat until September, 1787. 
 During all that time the Congress of the United States 
 was in session at New York. It was a matter of design, 
 as we know, that the convention should not assemble in 
 the same city where Congress was holding its sessions. 
 Almost all the public men of the country, therefore, of 
 distinction and eminence, were in one or the other of these 
 two assemblies ; and I think it happened in some instances 
 that the same gentlemen were members of both. If I 
 mistake not, such was the case of Mr. Rufus King, then a 
 member of Congress from Massachusetts, and at the same 
 time a member of the convention to frame the Constitution 
 from that State. Now, it was in the summer of 1787, the 
 very time when the convention in Philadelphia was framing 
 this Constitution, that the Congress in New York was 
 framing the ordinance of 1787. They passed that ordinance 
 on the 13th of July, 1787, at New York, the very month, 
 perhaps the very day, on which these questions about the 
 importation of slaves and the character of slavery were 
 debated in the convention at Philadelphia. And, so far as 
 we can now learn, there was a perfect concurrence of 
 opinion between these respective bodies ; and it resulted in 
 this ordinance of 1787, excluding slavery as applied to all 
 the territory over which the Congress of the United States 
 had jurisdiction, and that was all the territory northwest 
 of the Ohio. Three years before, Virginia and other 
 States had made a cession of that great territory to the 
 United States. And a most magnifi.cent act it was. I 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 267 
 
 never reflect upon it -without a disposition to do honor and 
 justice — and justice would be the highest honor — to Vir- 
 ginia for that act of cession of her northwestern territory. 
 I will say, sir, it is one of her fairest claims to the respect 
 and gratitude of the United States, and that perhaps it is 
 only second to that other claim which attaches to her — 
 that, from her counsels, and from the intelligence and 
 patriotism of her leading statesmen, proceeded the first 
 idea put into practice for the formation of a general Con- 
 stitution of the United States. Now, sir, the ordinance 
 of 1787 applied thus to the whole territory over which the 
 Congress of the United States had jurisdiction. It was 
 adopted nearly three years before the Constitution of the 
 United States went into operation, because the ordinance 
 took effect immediately on its passage ; while the Constitu- 
 tion of the United States, having been framed, was to be 
 sent to the States to be adopted by their conventions, and 
 then a government had to be organized under it. This 
 ordinance, then, was in operation and force when the Con- 
 stitution was adopted, and this Government put in motion, 
 in April, 1789. 
 
 Mr. President, three things are quite clear as historical 
 truths. One is, that there was an expectation that on the 
 ceasing of the importation of slaves from Africa, slavery 
 would begin to run out. That was hoped and expected. 
 Another is, that, as far as there was any power in Congress 
 to prevent the spread of slavery in the United States, that 
 power was executed in the most absolute manner, and to 
 the fullest extent. An honorable member whose health 
 does not allow him to be here to-day — 
 
 A Senator. He is here. (Referring to Mr. Calhoun.) 
 
 Mr. Webster. I am very happy to hear that he is ; 
 
 may he long be in health and the enjoyment of it to serve 
 
 his country — said, the other day, that he considered this 
 
21)8 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 ordinance as the first in the series of measures calculated 
 to enfeeble the South, and deprive them of their just par- 
 ticipation in the benefits and privileges of this Government. 
 He says very properly that it was done under the old Con- 
 federation, and before this Constitution went into effect ; 
 but my present purpose is only to say, Mr. President, that 
 it was done with the entire and unanimous concurrence of 
 the whole South. Why, there it stands! The vote of 
 every State in the Union was unanimous in favor of the 
 ordinance, with the exception of a single individual vote, 
 and that individual was a Northern man. But, sir, the 
 ordinance abolishing or rather prohibiting slavery north- 
 west of the Ohio has the hand and seal of every Southern 
 member in Congress. The other and third clear historical 
 truth is, that the convention meant to leave slavery, in the 
 States, as they found it, entirely under the control of the 
 
 States. 
 
 This was the state of things, sir, and this the state of 
 opinion, under which those very important matters were 
 arranged, and those two important things done ; that is, 
 the establishment of the Constitution, with a recognition 
 of slavery as it existed in the States, and the establishment 
 of the ordinance, prohibiting, to the full extent of all ter- 
 ritory owned by the United States, the introduction of 
 slavery into those territories, and the leaving to the States 
 all power over slavery, in their own limits. And here, sir, 
 we may pause. We may reflect for a moment upon the 
 entire coincidence and concurrence of sentiment between 
 the North and the South upon these questions at the period 
 of the adoption of the Constitution. But opinions, sir, 
 have changed — greatly changed — changed North and 
 changed South. Slavery is not regarded in the South 
 now as it was then. I see an honorable member of this 
 body paying me the honor of listening to my remarks ; he 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 2(39 
 
 brings to me, sir, freshly and vividly, the sentiments of his 
 great ancestor, so much distinguished in his day and gene- 
 ration, so worthy to be succeeded by so worthy a grandson, 
 with all the sentiments he expressed in the convention of 
 Philadelphia, 
 
 Here we may pause. There was, if not an entire 
 unanimity, a general concurrence of sentiment, running 
 through the whole community, and especially entertained 
 by the eminent men of all portions of the country. But 
 soon a change began at the North and the South, and a 
 severance of opinion showed itself — the North growing 
 much more warm and strong against slavery, and the South 
 growing much more warm and strong in its support. Sir, 
 there is no generation of mankind whose opinions are not 
 subject to be influenced by what appears to them to be their 
 present, emergent, selfish, and exigent interest. I impute 
 to the South no particular selfish view in the change which 
 has come over her. I impute to her certainly no dishonest 
 view. All that has happened has been natural. It has 
 followed those causes which ahvays influence the human 
 mind and operate upon it. What, then, have been the 
 causes which have created so new a feeling in favor of 
 slavery in the South — which have changed the whole 
 nomenclature of the South on the subject — and from beino- 
 thought of and described in the terms I have mentioned 
 and will not repeat, it has now become an institution, a 
 cherished institution, in that quarter ; no evil, no scourge, 
 but a great religious, social, and moral blessing, as I think 
 I have heard it latterly described ? I suppose this, sir, is 
 owing to the sudden uprising and rapid growth of the 
 cotton-plantations of the South. So far as any motive of 
 honor, justice, and general judgment could act, it was the 
 cotton-interest that gave a new desire to promote slavery, 
 to spread it, and to use its labor. I again say that that 
 
 23* 
 
270 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 WHS produced by the causes which we must always expect 
 to produce like effects ; tlieir whole interest became con- 
 nected with it. If we look back to the history of the 
 commerce of this country, at the early years of this Go- 
 vernment, what were our exports ? Cotton was hardly, or 
 but to a very limited extent, known. The tables will show 
 that the exports of cotton for the years 1790 and '91 were 
 not more than forty or fifty thousand dollars a year. It 
 has gone on increasing rapidly, until it may now, perhaps, 
 in a season of great product and high prices, amount to a 
 hundred millions of dollars. In the years I have men- 
 tioned there was more of wax, more of indigo, more of 
 rice, more of almost every article of export from the 
 South, than of cotton. I think I have heard it said, when 
 Mr. Jay negotiated the treaty of 1794 with England, he 
 did not know that cotton was exported at all from the 
 United States ; and I have heard it said that, after the 
 treaty which gave to the United States the right to carry 
 their own commodities to England, in their own ships, the 
 custom-house in London refused to admit cotton, upon an 
 allegation that it could not be an American production, 
 there being, as they supposed, no cotton raised in America. 
 They would hardly think so now ! 
 
 Well, sir, we know what followed. The age of cotton 
 became a golden age for our Southern brethren. It grati- 
 fied their desire for improvement and accumulation at the 
 same time that it excited it. The desire grew by what it 
 fed upon, and there soon came to be an eagerness for other 
 territory, a new area, or new areas, for the cultivation of 
 the cotton-crop, and measures leading to this result were 
 brought about, rapidly, one after another, under the lead 
 of Southern men at the head of the Government, they 
 havino- a majority in both branches to accomplish their 
 ends. The honorable member from Carolina observed that 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 271 
 
 there has been a majority all along in favor of the North. 
 If that be true, sir, the North has acted either very libe- 
 rally and kindly, or very weakly ; for they never exercised 
 that majority five times in the history of the Government. 
 Never. Whether they were outgeneralled, or whether it 
 was owing to other causes, I shall not stop to consider ; 
 but no man acquainted with the history of the country can 
 deny, that the general lead in the politics of the country 
 for three-fourths of the period that has elapsed since the 
 adoption of the Constitution has been a Southern lead. In 
 1802, in pursuit of the idea of opening a new cotton-region, 
 the United States obtained a cession from Georgia of the 
 whole of her western territory, now embracing the rich and 
 growing State of Alabama. In 1803 Louisiana was pur- 
 chased from France, out of which the States of Louisiana, 
 Arkansas, and Missouri have been framed, as slaveholding 
 States. In 1819 the cession of Florida was made, bring- 
 ing another cession of slaveholding property and territory. 
 Sir, the honorable member from South Carolina thoucrht 
 he saw in certain operations of the Government, such as the 
 manner of collecting the revenue and the tendency of those 
 measures to promote emigration into the country, what 
 accounts for the more rapid growth of the North than the 
 South. He thinks that more rapid growth, not the opera- 
 tion of time, but of the system of Government established 
 under this Constitution. That is a matter of opinion. To 
 a certain extent it may be so ; but it does seem to me that 
 if any operation of the Government could be shown in any 
 degree to have promoted the population, and growth, and 
 wealth of the North, it is much more sure that there are 
 sundry important and distinct operations of the Govern- 
 ment, about which no man can doubt, tending to promote, 
 and which absolutely have promoted, the increase of the 
 slave interest and the slave territory of the South. Allow 
 
272 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 me to say tliat it was not time that brought in Louisiana ; 
 it Avas the act of men. It was not time that brought in 
 Florida ; it was the act of men. And lastly, sir, to com- 
 plete those acts of men, which have contributed so much to 
 enlarge the area and the sphere of the institution of slavery, 
 Texas, great, ^ind vast, and illimitable Texas, was added to 
 the Union, as a slave State, in 1845 ; and that, sir, pretty 
 much closed the whole chapter, and settled the whole ac- 
 count. That closed the whole chapter — that settled the 
 whole account, because the annexation of Texas, upon the 
 conditions and under the guarantees upon which she was 
 admitted, did not leave an acre of land, capable of being 
 cultivated by slave-labor, between this Capitol and the Rio 
 Grande or the Nueces, or whatever is the proper boundary 
 of Texas — not an acre, not one. From that moment, the 
 whole country, from this place to the western boundary of 
 Texas, Avas fixed, pledged, fastened, decided, to be slave 
 territory forever, by the solemn guarantees of law. And I 
 now say, sir, as the proposition upon which I stand this 
 day, and upon the truth and firmness of which I intend to 
 act until it is overthrown, that there is not at this moment 
 within the United States, or any territory of the United 
 States, a single foot of land, the character of which, in 
 regard to its being freesoil territory or slave territory, is 
 not fixed by some law, and some irrepealable law, beyond 
 the power of the action of this Government. Now, is it 
 not so with respect to Texas ? Why, it is most manifestly 
 so. The honorable member from South Carolina, at the 
 time of the admission of Texas, held an important post in 
 the Executive department of the Government ; he was 
 Secretary of State. Another eminent person of great 
 activity and adroitness in affairs, I mean the late Secretary 
 of the Treasury, (Mr. Walker,) was a leading member of 
 this body, and took the lead in the business of annexation ; 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMI--^K, -^78 
 
 _ ( o 
 
 and I must say they did their business faithfully and 
 thoroughly ; there was no botch left in it. They rounded 
 it off, and made as close joiner-work as ever was put 
 together. Resolutions of annexation were brought into 
 Congress fitly joined together— compact, firm, eflScient, 
 conclusive upon the great object which they had in view ; 
 and those resolutions passed. 
 
 Allow me to read the resolution. It is the third clause 
 of the second section of the resolution of the 1st of 
 March, 1845, for the admission of Texas, which applies to 
 this part of the case. That clause reads in these words : 
 
 " New States, of convenient size, not exceeding four in 
 number, in addition to said State of Texas, and having 
 sufficient population, may hereafter, by the consent of 
 said State, be formed out of the territory thereof, which 
 shall be entitled to admission under the provisions of the 
 Federal Constitution. And such States as may be formed 
 out of that portion of said territory lying south of 36° 
 30' north latitude, commonly known as the Missouri com- 
 promise line, shall be admitted into the Union with or 
 without slavery, as the people of each State asking ad- 
 mission may desire ; and in such State or States as shall 
 be formed out of said territory north of said Missouri 
 compromise line, slavery or involuntary servitude (except 
 for crime) shall be prohibited." 
 
 Now, what is here stipulated, enacted, secured ? It is, 
 that all Texas south of 36° 30', which is nearly the whole 
 of it, shall be admitted into the Union as a slave State. 
 It was a slave State, and therefore came in as a slave 
 State ; and the guarantee is that new States shall be made 
 out of it, and that such States as are formed out of that 
 portion of Texas lying south of 36° 30' may come in as 
 slave States to the number of four, in addition to the 
 State then in existence, and admitted at that time by 
 
274 SPEECHES OF DANIEL AVEBSTER. 
 
 these resolutions. I know no form of legislation which 
 can strengthen that. I know no mode of recognition that 
 can add a tittle of weight to it. I listened respectfully to the 
 resolution of my honorable friend from Tennessee (Mr. Bell). 
 He proposed to recognise that stipulation with Texas. But 
 any additional recognition would weaken the force of it, be- 
 cause it stands here on the ground of a contract, a thing 
 done for a consideration. It is a law founded on a con- 
 tract with Texas, and designed to carry that contract into 
 effect. A recognition founded not on any consideration 
 or any contract Avould not be so strong as it now stands 
 on the face of the resolution. Now, I know no way, I 
 candidly confess, in which this Government, acting in good 
 faith, as I trust it always will, can relieve itself from that 
 stipulation and pledge, by any honest course of legislation 
 whatever. And, therefore, I say again that, so far as 
 Texas is concerned — the whole of Texas south of 36° 30', 
 which I suppose embraces all the slave territory — there is 
 no land, not an acre, the character of which is not esta- 
 blished by law, a law which cannot be repealed without 
 the violation of a contract, and plain disregard of the 
 public faith. 
 
 I hope, sir, it is now apparent that my proposition, so 
 far as Texas is concerned, has been maintained ; and the 
 provision in this article — and it has been well suggested 
 by' my friend from Rhode Island tliart that part of Texas 
 which lies north of 34° of north latitude may be formed 
 into free States — is dependent, in like manner, upon the 
 consent of Texas, herself a slave State. 
 
 Well, now, sir, how came this? How came it that 
 withm these walls, where it is said by the honorable mem- 
 ber from South Carolina, that tlie free States have a 
 majority, this resolution of annexation, such as I have de- 
 scribed it, found a majority in both Houses of Congress? 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 275 
 
 Why, sir, it found that majority by the great addition of 
 Northern votes added to the entire Southern vote, or, at 
 least, nearly the whole of the Southern votes. That ma- 
 jority was made up of Northern as well as of Southern 
 votes. In the House of Representatives it stood, I think, 
 about eighty Southern votes for the admission of Texas, 
 and about fifty Northern votes for the admission of Texas. 
 In the Senate the vote stood for the admission of Texas, 
 twenty-seven, and twenty-five against it ; and of those 
 twenty-seven votes, constituting a majority for the admis- 
 sion of Texas in this body, no less than thirteen of them 
 came from the free States — four of them were from New 
 England. The whole of these thirteen Senators from the 
 free States — within a fraction, you see, of one-half of all 
 the votes in this body for the admission of Texas, with its 
 immeasurable extent of slave territory — were sent here by 
 the votes of free States. 
 
 Sir, there is not so remarkable a chapter in our history 
 of political events, political parties, and political men, as 
 is afibrded by this measure for the admission of Texas, 
 with this immense territory, that a bird cannot fly over in 
 a week. [Laughter.] Sir, New England, with some of her 
 votes, supported this measure. Three-fourths of the votes 
 of liberty-loving Connecticut went for it in the other 
 House, and one-half here. There was one vote for it in 
 Maine, but I am happy to say, not the vote of the honor- 
 able member who addressed the Senate the day before 
 yesterday, (Mr. Hamlin,) and who was then a representa- 
 tive from Maine in the otber House ; but there was a vote 
 or two from Maine — ay, and there was one vote for it 
 from Massachusetts, the gentleman then representing and 
 now living ip^the district in which the prevalence of free- 
 soil sentiment, for a couple of years or so, has defeated 
 the choice of any member to represent it in Congress. 
 
276 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 Sir, that body of Northern and Eastern men who gave 
 those votes at that time, are now seen taking upon them- 
 selves, in the nomenclature of politics, the appellation of 
 the Northern Democracy. They undertook to wield the 
 destinies of this empire — if I may call a republic an 
 empire — and their policy was, and they persisted in it, to 
 bring into this country all the territory they could. They 
 did it under pledges, absolute pledges, to the slave interest 
 in the case of Texas, and afterward they lent their aid 
 in bringing in these new conquests. My honorable friend 
 from Georgia, in March, 1847, moved the Senate to de- 
 clare that the war ought not to be prosecuted for acquisi- 
 tion, for conquest, for the dismemberment of Mexico. The 
 same Northern Democracy entirely voted against it. He 
 did not get a vote from them. It suited the views, the 
 patriotism, the elevated sentiments of the Northern De- 
 mocracy to bring in a world here, among the mountains 
 and valleys of California and New Mexico, or any other 
 part of Mexico, and then quarrel about it ; to bring it in, 
 and then endeavor to put upon it the saving grace of the 
 Wilmot proviso. There were two eminent and highly- 
 respectable gentlemen from the North and East, then 
 leading gentlemen in this Senate : I refer — and I do so 
 with entire respect, for I entertain for both of those 
 gentlemen in general high regard — to Mr. Dix, of New- 
 York, and Mr. Niles, of Connecticut, who voted for the 
 admission of Texas. They would not have that vote any 
 other way than as it stood ; and they would not have it as 
 it did stand. I speak of the vote upon the annexation of 
 Texas. Those two gentlemen would have the resolution 
 of annexation just as it is, and they voted for it just as it 
 is, and their eyes were all open to it. My honorable 
 friend, the member who addressed us the other day from 
 South Carolina, was then Secretary of State. His corre- 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 277 
 
 spondence with Mr. Murplij, the Chargd d' Affaires of the 
 United States in Texas, had been published. That corre- 
 spondence was all before those gentlemen, and the Secre- 
 tary had the boldness and candor to avow in that corre- 
 spondence that the great object sought by the annexation 
 of Texas was to strengthen the slave interest of the 
 
 South. Why, sir, he said, in so many words 
 
 Mr. Calhoun. Will the honorable Senator permit me 
 to interrupt him for a moment ? 
 Mr. Webster. Certainly. 
 
 Mr. .Calhoun, I am very reluctant to interrupt the 
 honorable gentleman ; but, upon a point of so much im- 
 portance, I deem it right to put myself rectus in curia. 
 I did not put it upon the ground assumed by the Senator. 
 I put it upon this ground— that Great Britain had an- 
 nounced to this country, in so many words, that her ob- 
 ject was to abolish slavery in Texas, and through Texas 
 to accomplish the abolishment of slavery in the United 
 States and the world. The ground I put it on was, that 
 it would make an exposed frontier ; and if Great Britain 
 succeeded in her object, it would be impossible that that 
 frontier could be secured against the aggression of the abo- 
 htionists ; and that this Government was bound, under the 
 guarantees of the Constitution, to protect us against such 
 a state of things. 
 
 Mr. Webster. That comes, I suppose, sir, to exactly 
 the same thing. It was, that Texas must be obtained for 
 the security of the slave interest of the South. 
 
 Mr. Calhoun. Another view is very distinctly given. 
 Mr. Webster. That was the object set forth in the 
 correspondence of a worthy gentleman not now living, who 
 preceded the honorable member from South Carolina in 
 that office. There repose on the files of the department 
 of State, as I have occasion to know, stronij letters from 
 
278 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER 
 
 Mr. Upshur to the United States minister in England, 
 and I believe there are some to the same minister from 
 the honorable Senator himself, asserting to this effect the 
 sentiments of this Government, that Great Britain was 
 expected not to interfere to take Texas out of the hands 
 of its then existing Government, and make it a free 
 country. But my argument, my suggestion, is this — that 
 those gentlemen who composed the I^orthern Democracy 
 when Texas Avas brought into the Union, saw, with all 
 their eyes, that it was brought in as slave country, and 
 brought in for the purpose of being maintained as slave 
 territory to the Greek kalends. I rather think the honor- 
 able gentleman, who Avas then Secretary of State, might, 
 in some of his correspondence with Mr. Murphy, have 
 suggested that it was not expedient to say too much about 
 this object, that it might create some alarm. At any rate, 
 Mr. Murphy wrote to him, that England was anxious to 
 get rid of the Constitution of Texas, because it was a 
 Constitution establishing slavery ; and that what the 
 United States had to do was, to aid the people of Texas 
 in upholding their Constitution ; but that nothing should 
 be said that should offend the fanatical men. But, sir, 
 the honorable member did avow this object, himself, 
 openly, boldly, and manfully ; he did not disguise his con- 
 duct, or his motives. 
 
 Mr. Calhoun. Never, never. 
 
 Mr. Webster. What he means he is very apt to say. 
 
 Mr. Calhoun. Always, always. 
 
 Mr. Webster. And I honor him for it. This admis- 
 sion of Texas was in IS-ly. Then, in IS^^l , flagrante hello 
 between the United States and Mexico, the proposition I 
 liave mentioned was brought forward by my friend from 
 Georgia, and the Northern Democracy voted straight 
 ahead against it. Their remedy was to apply to the 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 279 
 
 acquisitions, after they should come in, the Wihnor pro- 
 viso. What follows ? These two gentlemen, worthy, and 
 honorable, and influential men — and if they had not be on 
 they could not have carried the measure — these two 
 gentlemen, members of this body, brought in Texas, and 
 by their votes they also prevented the passage of the 
 resolution of the honorable member from Georgia, and 
 then they went home and took the lead in the freesoil 
 party. And there they stand, sir ! They leave us here, 
 bound in honor and conscience by the resolutions of an- 
 nexation — they leave us here to take the odium of ful- 
 filling the obligations in favor of slavery which they voted 
 us into, or else the greater odium of violating those ob- 
 ligations, while they are at home, making rousing and 
 capital speeches for freesoil and no slavery. [Laughter.] 
 And, therefore, I say, sir, that there is not a chapter in 
 our history, respecting public measures and public men, 
 more full of what should create surprise, more full of what 
 does create, in my mind, extreme mortification, than that 
 of the conduct of this Northern Democracy. 
 
 iMr. President, sometimes, when a man is found in a 
 new relation to things around him and to other men, he 
 says the world has changed, and that he has not changed. 
 I believe, sir, that our self-respect leads us often to make 
 this declaration in regard to ourselves, when it is not 
 exactly true. An individual is more apt to change, per- 
 haps, than all the world around him. But, under the 
 present circumstances, and under the responsibility which 
 I know I incur by what I am now stating here, I feel at 
 liberty to recur to the various expressions and statements, 
 made at various times, of my own opinions and resolu- 
 tions respecting the admission of Texas, and all that has 
 followed. Sir, as early as 1836, or in the earlier part of 
 1837, a matter of conversation and correspondence be- 
 
280 SPEECHES OF DANIEL -".VEBSTER. 
 
 tween myself and some private friends was this project 
 of annexing Texas to the United States; and an honor- 
 able gentleman Avith whom I have had a long acquaint- 
 ance, a friend of mine, now perhaps in this chamber — I 
 mean General Hamilton, of South Carolina — was knowing 
 to that correspondence. I had voted for the recognition 
 of Texan independence, because I believed it was an exist- 
 ing fact, surprising and astonishing as it was, and I 
 wished well to the new republic ; but I manifested from 
 the first utter opposition to bringing her, with her terri- 
 torj, into the Union. I had occasion, sir, in 1837, to 
 meet friends in New York, on some political occasion, and 
 I then stated my sentiments upon the subject. It was 
 the firsi time that I had occasion to advert to it; and I 
 will ask a friend near me to do me the favor to read an 
 extract from the speech, for the Senate may find it rather 
 tedious to listen to the whole of it. It was delivered in 
 Niblo's Garden in 1837. 
 
 [Mr. Greene then read the following extract from the 
 speech of the honorable Senator, to which he referred : 
 
 " Gentlemen, we all see that, by whomsoever possessed, 
 Texas is likely to be a slaveholding country ; and I frankly 
 avow my entire unwillingness to do any thing which shall 
 extend the slavery of the African race on this continent, 
 or add other slaveholding States to the Union. 
 
 " When I say that I regard slavery in itself as a great 
 moral, social, and political evil, I only use language which 
 has been adopted by distinguished men, themselves citizens 
 of slaveholdino; States. 
 
 "I shall do nothing, therefore, to favor or encourage its 
 further extension. We have slavery already among us. 
 The Constitution found it among us ; it recognised it, and 
 gave it solemn guarantees. 
 
 " To the full extent of these guarantees we are all bound 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 281 
 
 in honor, in justice, and bj the Constitution. All the 
 stipulations contained in the Constitution in favor of the 
 slaveholding States, which are already in the Union, ouo-ht 
 to be fulfilled, and, so far as depends on me, shall be fulfilled 
 in the fulness of their spirit and to the exactness of their 
 letter. Slavery, as it exists in the States, is beyond the 
 reach of Congress. It is a concern of the States them- 
 selves. They never submitted it to Congress, and Congress 
 has no rightful power over it. 
 
 " I shall concur, therefore, in no act, no measure, no 
 menace, no indication of purpose Avhich shall interfere or 
 threaten to interfere with the exclusive authority of the 
 several States over the subject of slavery, as it exists within 
 their respective limits. All this appears to me to be matter 
 of plain and imperative duty. 
 
 " But when we come to speak of admitting new States, 
 the subject assumes an entirely different aspect. Our rights 
 and our duties are then both different. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " I see, therefore, no political necessity for the annexa- 
 tion of Texas to the Union — no advantages to be derived 
 from it ; and objections to it of a strong, and, in my judg- 
 ment, of a decisive character."] 
 
 Mr. Webster. I have nothing, sir, to add to, nor to 
 take back from, those sentiments. That, the Senate will 
 perceive, was in 1837. The purpose of immediately annex- 
 ing Texas at that time was abandoned or postponed ; and 
 it was not revived with any vigor for some years. In the 
 mean time it had so happened that I had become a member 
 of the Executive administration, and was for a short period 
 in the Department of State. The annexation of Texas was 
 a subject of conversation — not confidential — with the Pre- 
 sident and heads of department, as well as with other public 
 men. No serious attempt was then made, however, to bring 
 
 24* 
 
282 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 it about. I left the Department of State in May, 1843, 
 and shortly after I learned, though no way connected with 
 official information, that a design had been taken up of 
 bringhig in Texas, with her slave territory and population, 
 into the United States. I was here in Washington at the 
 time, and persons are now here who will remember that we 
 had an arranged meeting for conversation upon it. I went 
 home to Massachusetts, and proclaimed the existence of 
 that purpose ; but I could get no audience, and but little 
 atterition. Some did not believe it, and some were too 
 much engaged in their own pursuits to give it any heed. 
 They had gone to their farms or to their merchandise, and 
 it was impossible to arouse any sentiment in New England 
 or in Massachusetts that should combine the two great 
 political parties against this annexation ; and, indeed, there 
 was no hope of bringing the Northern Democracy into that 
 view, for the leaning was all the other way. But, sir, even 
 with Whigs, and leading Whigs, Lam ashamed to say, there 
 •was a great indiiference toward the admission of Texas with 
 slave territory into this Union. It went on. I was then 
 out of Congress. The annexation resolutions passed the 
 1st of March, 1845. The Legislature of Texas complied 
 with the conditions, and accepted the guarantees ; for the 
 phraseology of the language of the resolution is, that Texas 
 is to come in "upon the conditions and under the guarantees 
 herein prescribed." I happened to be returned to the 
 Senate in March, 1845, and was here in December, 1845, 
 w;hen the acceptance by Texas of the conditions proposed 
 by Congress was laid before us by the President, and an 
 act for the consummation of the connection was laid before 
 the two Houses. The connection was not completed. A 
 final law doing t'.e deed of annexation ultimately and finally 
 had not been passed ; and when it was upon its final pass- 
 age here, I expressed iny opposition to it, and recorded 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE, 283 
 
 my vote in the negative : and there the vote stands, with the 
 observations that I made upon that occasion. It has hap- 
 pened that between 1837 and this time, on various occa- 
 sions and opportunities, I have expressed my entire opposi- 
 tion to the admission of shave States, or the acquisition of 
 new slave territories, to be added to the United States. I 
 know, sir, no change in my own sentiments or my OAvn pur- 
 poses in that respect. I will now again ask my friend from 
 Rhode Island to read another extract fiom a speech of 
 mine, made at a Whig convention in Springfield, Mas- 
 sachusetts, in the month of September, 1847. 
 
 [Mr. Greene here read the following extract : 
 
 "We hear much just now of a panacea for the dangers 
 and evils of slavery and slave-annexation, which they call 
 the ' Wilmot Proviso.' That certainly is a just sentiment, 
 but it is not a sentiment to found any new party upon. It 
 is not a sentiment on which Massachusetts Whigs differ. 
 There is not a man in this hall who holds to it more firmly 
 than I do, nor one who adheres to it more than another. 
 
 " I feel some little interest in this matter, sir. Did not 
 I commit myself in 1838 to the whole doctrine, fully, 
 entirely ? And I must be permitted to say that I cannot 
 quite consent that more recent discoveries should claim the 
 merit and take out a patent. 
 
 " I deny the priority of their invention. Allow me to 
 say, sir, it is not their thunder. 
 
 ****** 
 
 "We are to use the first, and last, and every occasion 
 which offers to oppose the extension of slave-power. 
 
 " But I speak of it here, as in Congress, as a political 
 question, a question for statesmen to act upon. We must 
 so regard it. I certainly do not mean to say that it is less 
 important in a moral point of view, that it is not more im- 
 portant in many other points of view ; but, as a legislator, 
 
284 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER, 
 
 or in any official capacity, I must look at it, consider it, 
 and decide it as a matter of political action."] 
 
 Mr. Webster. On other occasions, in debates here, I 
 have expressed my determination to vote for no acquisition, 
 or cession, or annexation, North or South, East or West. 
 My opinion has been, that we have territory enough, and 
 that we should follow the Spartan maxim, " Improve, 
 adorn what you have, seek no farther." I think that it 
 was in some observations that I made here on the three 
 million loan bill, that I avowed that sentiment. In short, 
 sir, the sentiment has been avowed quite as often, in as 
 many places, and before as many assemblies, as any humble 
 sentiments of mine ought to be avowed. 
 
 But now that, under certain conditions, Texas is in, with 
 all her territories, as a slave State, with a solemn pledge 
 that if she is divided into many States, those States may 
 come in as slave States south of 36° 30', how are we to 
 deal with this subject ? I know no way of honorable 
 legislation, when the proper time comes for the enactment, 
 but to carry into effect all that we have stipulated to do. I 
 do not entirely agree with my honorable friend from Ten- 
 nessee, (Mr. Bell,) that, as soon as the time comes when 
 she is entitled to another representative, we should create 
 a new State. The rule in regard to it I take to be this : 
 that, when we have created new States out of Territories, 
 we have generally gone upon the idea that when there is 
 population enough to form a State, sixty thousand, or some 
 such thing, we would create a State ; but it is quite a dif- 
 ferent thing when a State is divided, and two or more 
 States made out of it. It does not follow, in such a case, 
 that the same rule of apportionment should be applied. 
 That, however, is a matter for the consideration of Con- 
 gress, when the proper time arrives. I may not then be 
 here. I may have no vote to give on the occasion ; but I 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 285 
 
 wish it to be distinctly understood to-day, that, according 
 to my- view of the matter, this Government is solemnly 
 pledged by law to create new States out of Texas, with her 
 consent, when her population shall justify such a proceed- 
 ing ; and, so far as such States are formed out of Texan 
 territory lying south of 36° 30', to let them come in as 
 slave States. That is the meaning of the resolution which 
 our friends, the Northern Democracy, have left us to fulfil; 
 and I, for one, mean to fulfil it, because I will not violate 
 the faith of the Government. 
 
 New, as to California and New Mexico, I hold slavery 
 to be excluded from those Territories by a law even superior 
 to that which admits and sanctions it in Texas. I mean 
 the law of nature, — of physical geography, — the law of 
 the formation of the earth. That law settles forever, with 
 a strength beyond all terms of human enactment, that 
 slavery cannot exist in California or New Mexico. Under- 
 stand me, sir ; I mean slavery as we regard it ; slaves in 
 gross, of the colored race, transferable by sale and delivery 
 like other property. I shall not discuss this point, but I 
 leave it to the learned gentlemen who have undertaken to 
 discuss it ; but I suppose there is no slave of that descrip- 
 tion in California now. I understand that peonism, a sort 
 of penal servitude, exists there, or rather a sort of volun- 
 tary sale of a man and his offspring for debt, as it is 
 arranged and exists in some parts of California and New 
 Mexico. But what I mean to say is, that African slavery, 
 as we see it among us, is as utterly impossible to find itself, 
 or to be found, in Mexico, as any other natural impossi- 
 bility. California and New^ Mexico are Asiatic in their 
 formation and scenery. They are composed of vast ridges 
 of mountains of enormous height, with broken ridges and 
 deep valleys. The sides of these mountains are barren, 
 entirely barren, their tops capped by perennial snow. 
 
286 _ SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 There may be in California, now made free by its Constitu- 
 tion, and no doubt there are, some tracts of valuable land. 
 But it is not so in New Mexico. Pray, what is the evidence 
 which every gentleman must have obtained on this subject, 
 from information sought by himself or communicated by 
 others ? I have inquired and read all I could find in order 
 to obtain information. What is there in New Mexico that 
 could by any possibility induce anybody to go there with 
 slaves ? There are some narrow strips of tillable land on 
 the borders of the rivers ; but the rivers themselves dry up 
 before midsummer is gone. All that the people can do is 
 to raise some little articles, some little wheat for their 
 tortillas, and all that by irrigation. And who expects to 
 see a hundred black men cultivating tobacco, corn, cotton, 
 rice, or any thing else, on lands in New Mexico made fer- 
 tile only by irrigation ? I look upon it, therefore, as a 
 fixed fact, — to use an expression current at this day, — that 
 both California and New Mexico are destined to be free, so 
 far as they are settled at all, which I believe, especially in 
 regard to New Mexico, will be very little for a great length 
 of time ; free by the arrangement of things by the Power 
 above us. I have, therefore, to say, in this respect also, 
 that this country is fixed for freedom, to as many persons 
 as shall ever live there, by as irrepealable and more irre- 
 pealable a law than the law that attaches to the right of 
 holding slaves in Texas ; and I will say further, that if a 
 resolution or a law were now before us to provide a terri- 
 torial government for New Mexico, I would not vote to put 
 any prohibition into it whatever. The use of such a pro- 
 hibition would be idle, as it respects any effect it would 
 have upon the Territory ; and I would not take pains to 
 reaffirm an ordinance of Nature, nor to re-enact the will 
 of God. And I would put in no AYilmot Proviso for the 
 purpose of a taunt or a reproach. I would put into it no 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 287 
 
 evidence of the votes of superior power, to wound the pride, 
 even whether a just pride, a rational pride, or an irrational 
 pride — to wound the pride of the gentlemen who belong to 
 the Southern States. I have no such object, no such pur- 
 pose. They would think it a taunt, an indignity; they 
 would think it to be an act taking away from them what 
 they regard a proper equality of privilege ; and whether 
 they expect to realize any benefit from it or not, they would 
 think it a theoretic wrong ; that something more or less de- 
 rogatory to their character and their rights had taken place. 
 I propose to inflict no such wound upon anybody, unless 
 something essentially important to the country, and efficient 
 to the preservation of liberty and freedom, is to be eff"ected. 
 Therefore, I repeat, sir, and I repeat it because I wish it 
 to be understood, that I do not propose to address the 
 Senate often on this subject. I desire to pour out all my 
 heart in as plain a manner as possible ; and I say, again, 
 that if a proposition were now here for a government for 
 New Mexico, and it was moved to insert a provision for a 
 prohibition of slavery, I would not vote for it. 
 
 Now, Mr. President, I have established, so far as I pro- 
 posed to go into any line of observation to establish, the 
 proposition with which I set out, and upon which I propose 
 to stand or fall ; and that is, that the whole territory of 
 the States in the United States, or in the newly-acquired 
 territory of the United States, has a fixed and settled cha- 
 racter, now fixed and settled by law, which cannot be 
 repealed in the case of Texas without a violation of public 
 faith, and cannot be repealed by any human power in re- 
 gard to California or New Mexico ; that, under one or 
 other of these laws, every foot of territory in the States or 
 in the Territories has now received a fixed and decided 
 character. 
 
 Sir, if we were now making a government for New 
 
288 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 Mexico, and anybody should propose a Wilmot Proviso, I 
 should treat it exactly as Mr. Polk treated that provision 
 for excluding slavery from Oregon. Mr. Polk Avas known 
 to be in opinion decidedly averse to the Wilmot Proviso ; 
 but he felt the necessity of establishing a government for 
 the Territory of Oregon, and though the proviso was there, 
 he knew it would be entirely nugatory ; and, since it must 
 be entirely nugatory, since it took away no right, no de- 
 scribable, no estimable, no weighable or tangible right of 
 the South, he said he would sign the bill for the sake of 
 enacting a law to form a government in that Territory, and 
 let that entirely useless, and, in that connection, entirely 
 senseless, proviso remain. For myself, I will say that we 
 hear much of the annexation of Canada; and if there be 
 any man, any of the Northern Democracy, or any one of 
 the Freesoil party, who supposes it necessary to insert a 
 Wilmot Proviso in a territorial government for New Mexico, 
 that man will of course be of opinion that it is necessai-y 
 to protect the everlasting snows of Canada from the foot 
 of slavery by the same overpowering wing of an act of 
 Congress. Sir, wherever there is a particular good to be 
 done, wherever there is a foot of land to be stayed back 
 from becoming slave territory, I am ready to assert the 
 principle of the exclusion of slavery. I am pledged to it 
 from the year 1837 ; I have been pledged to it again and 
 again ; and I will perform those pledges ; but I will not do 
 a thing unnecessary, that wounds the feelings of others, or 
 that does dis";rac'e to mv own understandincr. 
 
 Mr. President, in the excited times in which we live, 
 there is found to exist a state of crimination and recrimi- 
 nation between the North and South, There are lists of 
 grievances produced by each; ;ind those grievances, real 
 or supposed, alienate the minds of one portion of the 
 country from the other, exasperate the feelings, subdue 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 289 
 
 the sense of fraternal connection, and patriotic love, and 
 mutual regard. I shall bestow a little attention, sir, upon 
 these various grievances produced on the one side and on 
 the other. I begin Avith the complaints of the South. 
 I will not answer, further than I have, the general state- 
 ments of the honorable Senator from South Carolina, that 
 the North has grown upon the South in consequence 
 of the manner of administering this Government, in the 
 collecting of its revenues, and so forth. These are dis- 
 puted topics, and I have no inclination to enter into them. 
 But I will state these complaints, especially one complaint 
 of the South, which has, in my opinion, just foundation ; 
 and that is, that there has been found at the North, 
 among individuals, and among the legislators of the North, 
 a disinclination to perform, fully, their constitutional 
 duties in regard to the return of persons bound to service, 
 who have escaped into the free States. In that respect? 
 it is my judgment that the South is right, and the North 
 is wrong. Every member of every Northern legislature 
 is bound, like every other officer in the country, by oath, 
 to support the Constitution of the United States ; and 
 this article of the Constitution, which says to these States, 
 they shall deliver up fugitives from service, is as binding 
 in honor and conscience as any other article. No man 
 fulfils his duty in any legislature who sets himself to find 
 excuses, evasions, escapes from this constitutional obliga- 
 tion. I have always thought that the Constitution ad- 
 dressed itself to the legislatures of the States or to the 
 States themselves. It says that those persons escaping to 
 other States shall be delivered up, and I confess I have 
 always been of the opinion that it Avas an inj miction upon 
 the States themselves. When it is said that a person 
 escaping into another State, and becoming therefore 
 within the jurisdiction of that State, shall be delivered up, 
 
 25 
 
290 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 it seems to me tlie import of the passage is, that the 
 State itself, in obedience to the Constitution, shall cause 
 him to be delivered up. That is my judgment. I have 
 always entertained that opinion, and I entertain it now. 
 But when the subject, some years ago, Avas before the 
 Supreme Court of the United States, the majority of the 
 judges held that the power to cause fugitives from ser- 
 vice to be delivered up was a power to be exercised under 
 the authority of this Government. I do not know, on the 
 whole, that it may not have been a fortunate decision. 
 My habit is to respect the result of judicial deliberations, 
 and the solemnity of judicial decisions. But as it now 
 stands, the business of seeing that these fugitives are de- 
 livered up resides in the power of Congress and the na- 
 tional judicature, and my friend at the head of the judi- 
 ciary committee has a bill on the subject now before the 
 Senate with some amendments to it, which I propose to 
 support, Avith all its provisions, to the fullest extent. And 
 I desire to call the attention of all sober-minded men, of 
 all conscientious men, in the North, of all men who are 
 not carried away by any fanatical idea, or by any false 
 idea whatever, to their constitutional obligations. I put it 
 to all the sober and sound minds at the North, as a ques- 
 tion of morals and a question of conscience. What right 
 have they, in their legislative capacity, or any other, to 
 endeavor to get round tbis Constitution, to embarrass the 
 free exercise of the rights secured by the Constitution to 
 the persons whose slaves escape from them ? None at all ; 
 none at all. Neither in the forum of conscience, nor 
 before the face of the Constitution, are they justified, in 
 my opinion. Of course it is a matter for their considera- 
 tion. They probably, in the turmoil of the times, have 
 not stopped to consider of this ; they have followed Avhat 
 seems to be the current of thought and of motives, as the 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPEOMISE. 201 
 
 occasion arose, and neglected to investigate fully the real 
 question, and to consider their constitutional obligations; 
 as I am sure, if they did consider, they would fulfil thoiu 
 with alacrity. Therefore I repeat, sir, that there is a 
 ground of complaint against the North, well founded, 
 which ought to be removed, which it is now in the power 
 of the different departments of this Government to re- 
 move, which calls for the enactment of proper laws author- 
 izing the judicature of this Government, in the several 
 States, to do all that is necessary for the recapture of 
 fugitive slaves, and for the restoration of them to those 
 ■who claim them. Wherever I go, and whenever I speak 
 on this subject, — and when I speak here I desire to speak 
 to the whole North, — I say that the South has been in- 
 jured in this respect, and has a right to complain ; and 
 the North has been too careless of what I think the Con- 
 stitution peremptorily and emphatically enjoins upon it as 
 a duty. 
 
 Complaint has been made against certain resolutions 
 that emanate from legislatures at the North, and are sent 
 here to us, not only on the subject of slavery in this Dis- 
 trict, but sometimes recommending Congress to consider 
 the means of abolishing slavery in the States. I should 
 be very sorry to be called upon to present any resolutions 
 here which could not be referable to any committee or any 
 power in Congress ; and therefore I should be very un- 
 willing to receive from Massachusetts instructions to pre- 
 sent resolutions expressing any opinion whatever upon 
 slavery as it exists at the present moment in the States, 
 for two reasons : because, first, I do not consider that 
 the Legislature of Massachusetts has any thing to do with 
 it ; and next, I do not consider that I, as her representa- 
 tive here, have any thing to do with it. Sir, it has be- 
 come, in my opinion, quite too common ; and if the legis- 
 
292 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 latui'es of the States do not like that opinion, they haA'e 
 a great deal more power to put it down than I have to 
 uphold it. It has become, in my opinion, quite too com- 
 mon a practice for the State legislatures to present resolu- 
 tions here on all subjects, and to instruct us here on all 
 subjects. There is no public man that requires instruction 
 more than I do, or who requires information more than I 
 do, or desires it more heartily ; but I do not like to have 
 it come in too imperative a shape. I took notice, with 
 pleasure, of some remarks upon this subject, made the 
 other day in the Senate of Massachusetts, by a young 
 man of talent and character, from whom the best hopes 
 mav be entertained. I mean Mr. Hillard. He told the 
 Senate of Massachusetts that he would vote for no instruc- 
 tions whatever to be forwarded to members of Congress, 
 nor for ;iny resolutions to be offered expressive of the 
 sense of Massachusetts as to what their members of Con- 
 gress ought to do. He said that he saw no propriety in 
 one set of public servants giving instructions and reading 
 lectures to another set of public servants. To their own 
 master all of them must stand or fall, and that master is 
 their constituents. I wish these sentiments could become 
 more common, a great deal more common. I have never 
 entered into the question, and never shall, about the 
 binding force of instructions. I will, however, simply say 
 this : if there be any matter of interest pending in this 
 body while I am a member of it, in which Massachusetts 
 has an interest of her own not adverse to the general 
 interest of the country, I shall pursue her instructions 
 with gladness of heart, and with all the efficiency which 
 I can bring it. But if the question be one Avhich affects 
 her interest, and at the same time affects the interest 
 of all other States, I shall no more regard her political 
 wishes or instructions than I would regard the wishes of a 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 293 
 
 man who might appoint me an arbiter or referee to decide 
 some question of important private right, and who might 
 instruct me to decide in his favor. If ever there was a 
 Government upon earth, it is this Government ; if ever 
 there was a body upon earth, it is this body, which should 
 consider itself as composed by agreement of all, appointed 
 by some, but organized by the general consent of all, 
 sitting here under the solemn obligations of oath and con- 
 science to do that which they think is best for the good of 
 the whole. 
 
 Then, sir, there are these abolition societies, of whicli 
 I am unwilling to speak, but in regard to which I have 
 very clear notions and opinions. I do not think them 
 useful. I think their operations for the last twenty years 
 have produced nothing good or valuable. At the same 
 time, I know thousands of them are honest and good men; 
 perfectly well-meaning men. They have excited feelings 
 — they think they must do something for the cause of 
 liberty, and in their sphere of action they do not see what 
 else they can do, than to contribute to an abolition press 
 or an abolition society, or to pay an abolition lecturer. 
 I do not mean to impute gross motives even to the leaders 
 of these societies, but I am not blind to the consequences. 
 I cannot but see what mischiefs their interference with the 
 South has produced. And is it not plain to every man ? 
 Let any gentleman who doubts of that, recur to the de- 
 bates in the Virginia House of Delegates in 1832, and he 
 will see with what freedom a proposition made by Mr. 
 Randolph for the gradual abolition of slavery was dis- 
 cussed in that body. Every one spoke of slavery as he 
 thought ; very ignominious and disparaging names and 
 epithets were applied to it. The debates in the House of 
 Delegates on that occasion, I believe, were all published. 
 They were read by every colored man who could read, 
 
 25* 
 
294 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEESTER. 
 
 and if there were any wjio could not read, those debates 
 were read to them bj others. At that time Virginia was 
 not unwilling nor afraid to discuss this question, and to let 
 that part of her population know as much of it as they 
 could learn. That was in 1882. x'Vs has been said by 
 the honorable member from Carolina, these abolition so- 
 cieties commenced their course of action in 1835. It is 
 said — I do not know how true it may be — that they sent 
 incendiary publications into the slave States ; at any 
 event, they attempted to arouse, and did arouse, a very 
 strong feeling ; in other words, they created great agita- 
 tion in the North against Southern slavery. Well, what 
 was the result ? The bonds of the slaves were bound 
 more firmly than before : their rivets were more strongly 
 fastened. Public opinion, wdiich in Virginia had begun to 
 be exhibited against slavery, and was opening out for the 
 discussion of the question, drew back and shut itself up in 
 its castle. I wish to know whether anybody in Virginia 
 can, now, talk as Mr. Randolph, Governor McDowell, and 
 others talked there, openly, and sent their remarks to the 
 press, in 1832. We all know the fact, and we all know 
 the cause ; and every thing that this agitating people have 
 done has been, not to enlarge, but to restrain ; not to set 
 free, but to bind faster, the slave population of the South. 
 That is my judgment. Sir, as I have said, I know many 
 abolitionists in my own neighborhood, very honest, good 
 people, misled, as I think, by strange enthusiasm ; but 
 they Avish to do something, and they are called on to con- 
 tribute, and they do contribute ; and it is my firm opinion 
 this day, that within the last twenty years, as much money 
 has been collected and paid to the abolition societies, aboli- 
 tion presses, and abolition lecturers, as would purchase the 
 freedom of every slave man, woman, and child in the 
 State of Maryland, and send them all to Liberia. I have 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE, 295 
 
 no doubt of it. But I have yet to learn that the benevo- 
 lence of these abolition societies has at any time taken 
 that particular turn. [Laughter.] 
 
 Again, sir, the violence of the press is complained of. 
 The press violent ! Why, sir, the press is violent every- 
 where. There are outrageous reproaches- in the North 
 against the South, and there are reproaclies in not much 
 better taste in the South against the North. Sir, the 
 extremists in both parts of this country are violent ; they 
 mistake loud and violent talk for eloquence and for reason. 
 They think that he who talks loudest reasons the best. 
 And this we must expect, when the press is free— as it is 
 here, and I trust always will be— for, with all its licen- 
 tiousness, and all its evils, the entire and absolute fi-eedom 
 of the press is essential to the preservation of govern- 
 ment on the basis of a free Constitution. Wherever it 
 exists, there will be foolisli paragraphs and violent para- 
 graphs in the press, as there are, I am sorry to say, foolish 
 speeches and violent speeches in both Houses of Congress. 
 In truth, sir, I must say that, in my opinion, the vernacu- 
 lar tongue of the country has become greatly vitiated, de- 
 praved, and corrupted by the style of our Congressional 
 debates. [Laughter.] And if it were possible for our 
 debates in Congress to vitiate the principles of the people 
 as much as they have depraved their taste, I should cry 
 out, " God save the Republic !" 
 
 Well, in all this I see no solid grievance ; no grievance 
 presented by the South, within the redress of the Govern- 
 ment, but the single one to which I have referred ; and 
 that is, the want of a proper regard to the injunction of 
 the Constitution for the delivery of fugitive slaves. 
 
 There are also complaints of the North against the 
 South. I need not go over them particularly. The first 
 and gravest is, that the North adopted the Constitution, 
 
296 SPEECHES OF DANIEL AVEBSTER. 
 
 recognising the existence of slavery in the States, and 
 recognising the right, to a certain extent, of representa- 
 tion of the slaves in Congress, under a state of sentiment 
 and expectation which do not now exist ; and that, by 
 events, by circumstances, by the eagerness of the South 
 to acquire territory and extend their slave population, the 
 North finds itself — in regard to the influence of the South 
 and the North, of the free States and the slave States — 
 where it never did expect to find itself when they entered 
 the compact of the Constitution. They complain, there- 
 fore, thfl,t, instead of slavery being regarded as an evil, as 
 it was then — an evil which all hoped would be extinguished 
 gradually — it is now regarded by the South as an institu- 
 tion to be cherished, and preserved, and extended ; an 
 institution which the South has already extended to the 
 utmost of her power by the acquisition of new territory. 
 Well, then, passing from that, everybody in the North 
 reads ; and everybody reads whatsoever the newspapers 
 contain ; and the newspapers — some of them, especially 
 those presses to which I have alluded — are careful to 
 spread about among the people every reproachful senti- 
 ment uttered by any Southern man bearing at all against 
 the North ; every thing that is calculated to exasperate, 
 to alienate ; and there are many such things, as every- 
 body Avill admit, from the South or some portion of it, 
 which are spread abroad among the reading people ; and 
 they do exasperate, and alienate, and produce a most 
 mischievous effect upon the public mind at the North. 
 Sir, I would not notice things of this sort, appearing in 
 obscure quarters ; but one thing has occurred in this de- 
 bate which struck me very forcibly. An honorable mem- 
 ber from Louisiana addressed us the other day on this 
 subject. I suppose there is not a more amiable and 
 worthy gentleman in this chamber — nor a gentleman who 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 297 
 
 would be more slow to give oifence to anybody, and he 
 did not mean in his remarks to give offence. But what 
 did he say ? Why, sir, he took pains to run a contrast 
 between the slaves of the South and the laboring people 
 of the North, giving the preference in all points of con- 
 dition, and comfort, and happiness, to the slaves of the 
 South. The honorable member, doubtless, did not sup- 
 pose that he gave any offence, or did any injustice. He 
 was merely expressing his opinion. But does he know 
 how remarks of that sort will be received by the laborino- 
 people of the North ? Why, who are the laboring people 
 of the North? They are the North. They are the 
 people who cultivate their own farms with their own 
 hands ; freeholders, educated men, independent men. Let 
 me say, sir, that five-sixths of the whole property of the 
 North is in the hands of the laborers of the North ; they 
 cultivate their farms, they educate their children, they 
 provide the means of independence ; if they are not free- 
 holders, they earn wages ; these wages accumulate, are 
 turned into capital, into new freeholds, and small capital- 
 ists are created. That is the case, and such the course 
 of things with us, among the industrious and frugal. 
 And what can these people think, when so respectable and 
 worthy a gentleman as the member from Louisiana under- 
 takes to prove that the absolute ignorance and the abject 
 slavery of the South is more in conformity with the high 
 purposes and destiny of immortal, rational, human beings, 
 than the educated, the independent free laborers of the 
 North ? There is a more tangible and irritating cause of 
 grievance at the North. Free blacks are constantly em- 
 ployed in the vessels of the North, generally as cooks or 
 stewards. When the vessel arrives, these free colored men 
 are taken on shore by the police or municipal authority, 
 imprisoned, and kept in prison, until the vessel is again 
 
208 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 ready to sail. This is not only irritating, but exceedingly 
 inconvenient in practice, and seems altogether impractica- 
 ble and oppressive. Mr. Hoar's mission, some time ago, 
 to South Carolina, was a well-intended effort to remove 
 this cause of complaint. The North think such im- 
 prisonments illegal and unconstitutional. As the cases 
 occur constantly and frequently, they think it a great 
 grievance. 
 
 Now, sir, so far as any of these grievances have their 
 foundation in matters of law, they can be redressed, and 
 ought to be redressed ; and so far as they have their 
 foundation in matters of opinion, in sentiment, in mutual 
 crimination and recrimination, all that we can do is, to 
 endeavor to allay the agitation, and cultivate a better feel- 
 ing and more fraternal sentiments between the South and 
 the North. 
 
 Mr. President, I should much prefer to have heard from 
 every member on this floor declarations of opinion, that 
 this Union should never be dissolved, than the declarations 
 of opinion, that, in any case, under the pressure of any 
 circumstances, such a dissolution was possible. I hear 
 with pain, and anguish, and distress, the word secession, 
 especially when it falls from the lips of those who are 
 eminently patriotic, and known to the country, and known 
 all over the world, for their political services. Secession ! 
 Peaceable secession ! Sir, your eyes and mine are never 
 destined to see that miracle. The dismemberment of this 
 vast country without convulsion ! The breaking up of the 
 fountains of the great deep without rufiling the surface ! 
 Who is so foolish — I beg everybody's pardon — as to ex- 
 pect to see any such thing ? Sir, he who sees these States 
 now revolving in harmony around a common centre, expect- 
 ing to see them quit their places, and fly oif, without con- 
 vulsion, may look, the next hour, to see the heavenly bodies 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 299 
 
 rush from their spheres, and jostle against each other in 
 the realms of space, Avithout producing the crash of the 
 universe. There can be no such thing as a peaceable 
 secession. Peaceable secession is an utter impossibility. 
 Is the great Constitution under which we live here, cover- 
 ing this whole country — is it to be thawed and melted 
 away by secession, as the snoW'S on the mountain melt 
 under the influence of a vernal sun — disappear almost 
 unobserved, and die oiF? No, sir! No, sir! I will not 
 state what might produce the disruption of the States ; 
 but, sir, I see it as plainly as I see the sun in heaven — I 
 see that disruption must produce such a war as I will not 
 describe in its twofold character! 
 
 Peaceable secession ! peaceable secession I The con- 
 current agreement of all the members of this great Re- 
 public to separate ! A voluntary separation, with alimony 
 on one side and on the other ! Why, what would be the 
 result ? Where is the line to be drawn ? What States are 
 to secede ? What is to remain American ? What am I to 
 be ? An American no longer ? AYhere is the flag of the 
 Republic to remain ? Where is the eagle still to tower ? or 
 is he to cower, and shriek, and fall to the ground ? Why, 
 sir, our ancestors — our fathers' and our grandfathers, those 
 of them that are yet living amongst us with prolonged 
 lives — would rebuke and reproach us ; and our children 
 and our grandchildren would cry out shame upon us, if we 
 of this generation should dishonor these ensigns of the 
 power of the Government and the harmony of the Union 
 which is every day felt among us with so much joy and 
 gratitude. What is to become of the army ? What is to 
 become of the navy ? What is to become of the public 
 lands ? How is each of the thirty States to defend itself? 
 I know, although the idea has not been stated distinctly. 
 There is to be a Southern Confederacy. I do not mean, 
 
300 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 ■when I allude to this statement, that any one seriously 
 contemplates such a state of things. I do not mean to say 
 that it is true, but I have heard it suggested elsewhere, 
 that that idea has originated in a design to separate. I am 
 sorry, sir, that it has ever been thought of, talked of, or 
 dreamed of, in the wildest flights of human imagination. 
 But the idea must be of a separation including the slave 
 States upon one side, and the free States on the other. 
 Sir, there is not — I may express myself too strongly, per- 
 haps, but some things, some moral things, are almost as 
 impossible as other natural or physical things ; and I hold 
 the idea of a separation of these States, those that are 
 free to form one government, and those that are slavehold- 
 ing to form another, as a moral impossibility. We could 
 not separate the States by any such line, if we were to 
 draw it. We could not sit down here to-day, and draw a 
 line of separation that would satisfy any five men in the 
 country. There are natural causes that would keep and 
 tie us together ; and there are social and domestic relations 
 "which we could not break if we would, and which we should 
 not if we could. Sir, nobody can look over the face of 
 this country at the present m^oment — nobody can see where 
 its population is #the most dense and growing — without 
 being ready to atlmit, and compelled to admit, that ere 
 long America will be in the Valley of the Mississippi. 
 
 Well, now, sir, I beg to inquire what the wildest enthu- 
 siast has to say on the possibility of cutting off that river, 
 and leaving free States at its source and its branches, and 
 slave States down near its mouth. Pray, sir, pray, sir, let 
 me say to the people of this country, that these things are 
 •worthy of their pondering and of their consideration. Here, 
 sir, are five millions of freemen in the free States north of 
 the river Ohio ; can anybody suppose that this population 
 can be severed by a line that divides them from the ter- 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROxMISE. 301 
 
 ritory of a foreign and an alien government, down some- 
 where, the Lord knows where, upon the lower banks of the 
 Mississippi ? What would become of Missouri ? Will she 
 join the arrondissement of the slave States ? Shall the 
 man from the Yellow Stone and the Platte River be con- 
 nected, in the new Republic, with the man who lives on the 
 southern extremity of the Cape of Florida? Sir, I am 
 ashamed to pursue this line of remark. I dislike it ; I 
 have an utter disgust for it. I would rather hear of natural 
 blasts and mildews, war, pestilence, and famine, than to 
 hear gentlemen talk of secession. To break up — to break 
 up this great Government — to dismember this great country 
 — to astonish Europe with an act of folly such as Europe 
 for two centuries has never beheld in any Government ! 
 No, sir ; no, sir ! There will be no secession. Gentlemen 
 are not serious when they talk of secession ! 
 
 Sir, I hear there is to be a convention held at Nashville. 
 I am bound to believe, that, if worthy gentlemen meet at 
 Nashville in convention, their object will be to adopt coun- 
 sels conciliatory — to advise the South to forbearance and 
 moderation, and to advise the North to forbearance and 
 moderation, and to inculcate principles of brotherly love 
 and affection, and attachment to the Constitution of the 
 country as it now is. I believe, if the convention meet at 
 all, it will be for this purpose ; for certainly, if they meet 
 for any purpose hostile to the Union, they have been sin- 
 gularly inappropriate in their selection of a place. I 
 remember, sir, that when the treaty was concluded between 
 France and England at the peace of Amiens, a stern old 
 Englishman, and an orator, who disliked the terms of the 
 peace as ignominious to England, said in the House of 
 Commons, that, if King William could know the terms of 
 that treaty, he would turn in his coffin. Let me commend 
 the saying of Mr. Windham, in all its emphasis and in all 
 
 26 
 
302 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WBBSTEK. 
 
 its force, to any persons who shall meet at Nashville for 
 the purpose of concerting measures for the overthrow of 
 the Union of this country over the bones of Andrew 
 Jackson. 
 
 Sir, I wish to make two remarks, and hasten to a con- 
 clusion. I wish to say, in regard to Texas, that if it should 
 be hereafter at any time the pleasure of the Government 
 of Texas to cede to the United States a portion, larger or 
 smaller, of her territory which lies adjacent to New Mexico, 
 and north of 34'^ of north latitude, to be formed into free 
 States, for a fair equivalent in money, or in the payment 
 of her debt, I think it an object well worthy the considera- 
 tion of Congress, and I shall be happy to concur in it 
 myself, if I should be in the public councils of the country 
 at the time. 
 
 I have one other remark to make. In my observations 
 upon slavery, as it has existed in the country, and as it 
 now exists, I have expressed no opinion of the mode of its 
 extinguishment or amelioration. I will say, however, 
 though I have nothing to propose on that subject, because 
 I do not deem myself competent as other gentlemen to con- 
 sider it, that if any gentleman from the South shall propose 
 a scheme of colonization, to be carried on by this Govern- 
 ment, upon a large scale, for the transportation of free 
 colored people to any colony, or any place in the world, I 
 should be quite disposed to incur almost any degree of ex- 
 pense to accomplish that object. Nay, sir, following an 
 example set here more than twenty years ago, by a great 
 man, then a Senator from New York, I would return to 
 Virginia — ^and through her, for the benefit of the whole 
 gouth — the money received from the lands and territories 
 ceded by her to this Government, for any such purpose as 
 to relieve, in whole or in part, or in any way to diminish 
 or deal beneficially with the free colored population of the 
 
ON THE SLAVERY COMPROMISE. 303 
 
 Southern States. I have said that I honor Virginia for 
 her cession of this territory. There have been received 
 into the treasury of the United States eighty millions of 
 dollars, the proceeds of the sales of public lands ceded by 
 Virginia. If the residue should be sold at the same rate, 
 the whole aggregate will exceed two hundred millions of 
 dollars. If Virginia and the South see fit to adopt any 
 proposition to relieve themselves from the free people of 
 color among them, they have my free consent that the 
 Government shall pay them any sum of money out of its 
 proceeds which may be adequate to the purpose. 
 
 And now, Mr. President, I draw these observations to a 
 close. I have spoken freely, and I meant to do so. I 
 have sought to make no display ; I have sought to enliven 
 the occasion by no animated discussion ; nor have I at- 
 tempted any train of elaborate argument. I have sought 
 only to speak my sentiments, fully and at large, being 
 desirous, once and for all, to let the Senate know, and to 
 let the country know, the opinions and sentiments which I 
 entertain on all these subjects. These opinions are not 
 likely to be suddenly changed. If there be any future 
 service that I can render to the country, consistently with 
 these sentiments and opinions, I shall cheerfully render it. 
 If there be not, I shall still be glad to have had an op- 
 portunity to disburden my conscience from the bottom of 
 my heart, and to make known every political sentiment 
 that therein exists. 
 
 And now, Mr. President, instead of speaking of the 
 possibility or utility of secession, instead of dwelling in 
 these caverns of darkness, instead of groping with those 
 ideas so full of all that is horrid and horrible, let us come 
 out into the light of day ; let us enjoy the fresh airs of 
 Liberty and Union ; let us cherish those hopes which belong 
 to us ; let us devote ourselves to those great objects that 
 
oO-l SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 are fit for our consideration and our action; let us rriise 
 our conceptions to the magnitude and the importance of 
 the duties that devolve upon us ; let our comprehension be 
 as broad as the country for which we act, our aspirations 
 as high as its certain destiny ; let us not be pygmies in a 
 case that calls for men. Never did there devolve on any 
 generation of men higher trusts than now devolve upon us 
 for the preservation of this Constitution, and the harmony 
 and peace of all who are destined to live under it. Let us 
 make our generation one of the strongest and the brightest 
 links in that golden chain which is destined, I fondly 
 believe, to grapple the people of all the States to this Con- 
 stitution, for ages to come. It is a great popular constitu- 
 tional Government, guarded by legislation, by law, by 
 judicature, and defended by the whole affections of the 
 people. No monarchical throne presses these States to- 
 gether ; no iron chain of despotic power encircles them ; 
 they live and stand upon a Government popular in its form, 
 representative in its character, founded upon principles of 
 equality, and calculated, we hope, to last forever. In all 
 its history it has been beneficent ; it has trodden down no 
 man's liberty ; it has crushed no State. Its daily respira- 
 tion is liberty and patriotism, its yet youthful veins are full 
 of enterprise, courage, and honorable love of glory and 
 renown. Large before, the country has now, by recent 
 events, become vastly larger. This Republic now extends, 
 with a vast breadth, across the whole Continent. The two 
 great seas of the world wash the one and the other shore. 
 We realize, on a mighty scale, the beautiful description of 
 the ornamental edging of the buckler of Achilles : 
 
 " Now the broad shield complete the artist crown'd 
 With his last hand, and poui-'d the ocean round ; 
 In living silver seem'd the waves to roll, 
 And beat the buckler's verge, and bound the whole." 
 
III. 
 
 SPEECH ON THE GKEEK EEVOLUTION, 
 
 Delivered in the House of Representatives of the United States, 
 January 19, 1823, 
 
 On the 8tli of December, 1823, Mr. Webster presented, 
 in the House of Representatives, the following resolution : 
 
 '•'' Resolved, That provision ought to be made, by law, for 
 defraying the expense incident to the appointment of an 
 agent or commissioner to Greece, whenever the President 
 shall deem it expedient to make such appointment." 
 
 The House having, on the 19th of January, resolved 
 itself into a Committee of the Whole, and this resolution 
 being taken into consideration, Mr. Webster spoke to the 
 following effect : 
 
 I am afraid, Mr. Chairman, that, so far as my part in 
 this discussion is concerned, those expectations which the 
 public excitement, existing on the subject, and certain 
 associations, easily suggested by it, have conspired to raise, 
 may be disappointed. An occasion which calls the atten- 
 tion to a spot, so distinguished, so connected with interest- 
 ing recollections, as Greece, may naturally create something 
 of warmth and enthusiasm. In a grave, political discus- 
 sion, however, it is necessary that that feeling should be 
 chastised. I shall endeavor properly to repress it, although 
 it is impossible that it should be altogether extinguished. 
 We must, indeed, fly beyond the civilized world, we must 
 
 26* 305 
 
306 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEESTER. 
 
 pass the dominion of law, and the boundaries of know- 
 ledge ; we must, more especially, withdraw ourselves from 
 this place, and the scenes and objects which here surround 
 us, if we would separate ourselves, entirely, from the in- 
 fluence of all those memorials of herself which ancient 
 Greece has transmitted for the admiration and the benefit 
 of mankind. This free form of government, this popular 
 assembly, the common council held for the common good, 
 where have we contemplated its earliest models ? This 
 i^ractice of free debate, and public discussion, the contest 
 of mind with mind, and that popular eloquence which, if 
 it were now here, on a subject like this, would move the 
 stones of the Capitol,— whose was the language in which 
 all these were first exhibited ? Even the edifice in which 
 we assemble, these proportioned columns, this ornamented 
 architecture, all remind us that Greece has existed, and 
 that we, like the rest of mankind, are greatly her debtors. 
 But I have not introduced this motion in the vain hope of 
 discharo-iiio- any thing of this accumulated debt of cen- 
 turies. I have not acted upon the expectation, that we, 
 Avho have inherited this obligation from our ancestors, 
 should now attempt to pay it to those who may seem to 
 have inherited from their ancestors a right to receive pay- 
 ment. My object is nearer and more immediate. I wish 
 to take occasion of the struggle of an interesting and 
 gallant people, in the cause of liberty and Christianity, to 
 draw the attention of the House to the circumstances 
 which have accompanied that struggle, and to the prin- 
 ciples which appear to have governed the conduct of the 
 great States of Europe in regard to it ; and to the eifects 
 and consequences of these principles upon the indepen- 
 dence of nations, and especially upon the institutions of 
 free governments. What I have to say of Greece, there- 
 fore, concerns the modern, not the ancient ; the living, and 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 307 
 
 not the dead. It regards her, not as she exists in history, 
 triumphant over time, and tyranny, and ignorance; but as 
 she now is, contending against fearful odds for being, and 
 for the common privilege of human nature. 
 
 As it is never difficult to recite commonplace remarks, 
 and trite aphorisms ; so it may be easy, I am aware, on 
 this occasion, to remind me of the wisdom which dictates 
 to men a care of their own affairs, and admonishes them, 
 instead of searching for adventures abroad, to leave other 
 men's concerns in their own hands. It may be easy to call 
 this resolution Quixotic, the emanation of a crusading or 
 propagandist spirit. All this, and more, may be readily 
 said ; but all this, and more, will not be allowed to fix a 
 character upon this proceeding, until that is proved, which 
 it takes for granted. Let it first be sJioivn, that, in this 
 question, there is nothing which can affect the interest, the 
 character, or the duty of this country. Let it be proved, 
 that we are not called upon by either of these considera- 
 tions, to express an opinion on the subject to which the 
 resolution relates. Let this be proved, and then it will, 
 indeed, be made out, that neither ought this resolution to 
 pass, nor ought the subject of it to have been mentioned 
 in the communication of the President to us. But, in my 
 opinion, this cannot be shown. In my judgment, the sub- 
 ject is interesting to the people and the Government of 
 this country, and we are called upon, by considerations of 
 great weight and moment, to express our opinions upon it. 
 These considerations, I think, spring from a sense of our 
 own duty, our character, and our own interest. I wish to 
 treat the subject on such grounds, exclusively, as are truly 
 Avierican; but then, in considering it as an American 
 question, I cannot forget the age in which we live, the pre- 
 vailing spirit of the age, the interesting questions which 
 agitate it, and our own peculiar relation in regard to these 
 
308 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 interesting questions. Let this be, then, and as far as I 
 am concerned I hope it will be, purely an American dis- 
 cussion ; but let it embrace, nevertheless, every thing that 
 fairly concerns America ; let it comprehend, not merely 
 her present advantage, but her permanent interest, her 
 elevated character, as one of the free States of the world, 
 and her duty toward those great principles, which have 
 hitherto maintained the relative independence of nations, 
 and which have, more especially, made her what she is. 
 
 At the commencement of the session, the President, in 
 the discharge of the high duties of his office, called our 
 attention to the subject to which this resolution refers. 
 " A strong hope," says that communication, " has been 
 long entertained, founded on the heroic struggle of the 
 Greeks, that they would succeed in their contest, and re- 
 sume their equal station among the nations of the earth. 
 It is believed that the whole civilized world takes a deep 
 interest in their welfare. Although no power has declared 
 in their favor, yet none, according to our information, has 
 taken part against them. Their cause and their name 
 have protected them from dangers, which might, ere this, 
 have overwhelmed any other people. The ordinary cal- 
 culations of interest, and of acquisition with a view to 
 aggrandizement, which mingle so much in the transactions 
 of nations, seem to have had no effect in regard to them. 
 From the facts which have come to our knowledge, there is 
 good cause to believe that their enemy has lost, forever, all 
 dominion over them ; that Greece will become again an 
 independent nation." 
 
 It has appeared to me, that the House should adopt 
 some resolution, reciprocating these sentiments so far as it 
 should approve them. More than twenty years have 
 elapsed, since Congress first ceased to receive such a com- 
 munication from the President, as could properly be made 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTIOX. 309 
 
 the subject of a general answer. I do not mean to find 
 fault with this relinquishment of a former, and an ancient 
 practice. It may have been attended with inconveniences 
 which justified its abolition. But, certainly, there was 
 one advantage belonging to it ; and that is, that it fm*- 
 nished a fit opportunity for the expression of the opinion 
 of the Houses of Congress, upon those topics in the 
 executive communication, which were not expected to be 
 made the immediate subjects of direct legislation. Since, 
 therefore, the President's message does not now receive a 
 general answer, it has seemed to me to be proper, that in 
 some mode, agreeable to our own usual form of proceed- 
 ing, we should express our sentiments upon the important 
 and interesting topics on which it treats. 
 
 If the sentiments of the message in respect to Greece 
 be proper, it is equally proper that this House should re- 
 ciprocate those sentiments. The present resolution is 
 designed to have that extent, and no more. If it pass, it 
 will leave any future proceeding where it now is, in the 
 discretion of the Executive Government. It is but an ex- 
 pression, under those forms in which the House is ac- 
 customed to act, of the satisfaction of the House with the 
 general sentiments expressed in regard to this subject in 
 the message, and of its readiness to defray the expense in- 
 cident to any inquiry for the purpose of further informa- 
 tion, or any other agency which the President, in his 
 discretion, shall see fit, in whatever manner, and at what- 
 ever time, to institute. The whole matter is still left in 
 his judgment, and this resolution can in no way restrain 
 its unlimited exercise. 
 
 I might well, Mr. Chairman, avoid the responsibility 
 of this measure, if it hail, in my judgment, any tendency 
 to change the policy of the country. With the general 
 course of that policy I am quite satisfied. The nation is 
 
810 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 prosperous, peaceful, and happy; and I should very re- 
 luctantly put its peace, prosperity, or happiness, at risk. 
 It appears to me, however, that this resolution is strictly 
 conformable to our general policy, and not only consistent 
 with our interests, but even demanded by a large and 
 liberal view of those interests. 
 
 It is certainly true, that the just policy of this country 
 is, in the first place, a peaceful policy. No nation ever 
 had less to expect from forcible aggrandizement. The 
 mighty agents which are working out our greatness, are 
 time, industry, and the arts. Our augmentation is by 
 growth, not by acquisition ; by internal development, not 
 by external accession. No schemes can be suggested to 
 us, so magnificent as the prospects which a sober con- 
 templation of our own conditio!i, unaided by projects, 
 uninfluenced by ambition, fairly spreads before us. A 
 country of such vast extent, with such varieties of soil 
 and climate ; with so much public spirit and private enter- 
 prise; Avith a population increasing so much beyond former 
 examples, with capacities of improvement not only unap- 
 plied or unexhausted, but even, in a great measure, as yet, 
 unexplored ; so free in its institutions, so mild in its laws, 
 so secure in the title it confers on every man to his own 
 acquisitions ; needs nothing but time and peace to carry it 
 forward to almost any point of advancement. 
 
 In the next place, I take it for granted, that the policy 
 of this country, springing from the nature of our Govern- 
 ment, and the spirit of all our institutions, is, so far as it 
 respects the interesting questions which agitate the pre- 
 sent age, on the side of liberal and enlightened senti- 
 ments. The age is extraordinary; the spirit that actuates 
 it, is peculiar and marked ; an(] our own relation to the 
 times we live in, and to the questions which interest them, 
 is equally marked and peculiar. We are placed, by our 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 311 
 
 good fortune, and the wisdom and valor of our ancestors, 
 in a condition in •which we can act no obscure part. Be it 
 for honor, or be it for dishonor, whatever we do, is not 
 likely to escape the observation of the world. As one of 
 the free States among the nations, as a great and rapidly- 
 rising republic, it would be impossible for us, if we were 
 so disposed, to prevent our principles, our sentiments, and 
 our example, from producing some eifect upon the opinions 
 and hopes of society throughout the civilized world. It 
 rests probably with ourselves to determine, whether the 
 influence of these shall be salutary or pernicious. 
 
 It cannot be denied that the great political question of 
 this age, is that between absolute and regulated govern- 
 ments. The substance of the controversy is, Avhether 
 society shall have any part in its own government. 
 Whether the form of government shall be that of limited 
 monarchy, with more or less mixture of hereditary power, 
 of wholly elective, or representative, may perhaps be 
 considered as subordinate. The main controversy is be- 
 tween that absolute rule, which, while it promises to 
 govern well, means nevertheless to govern without con- 
 trol, and that regulated or constitutional system, which 
 restrains sovereign discretion, and asserts that society may 
 claim, as matter of right, some effective power in the 
 establishment of the laws which are to regulate it. The 
 spirit of the times sets with a most powerful current, in 
 favor of these last-mentioned opinions. It is opposed, 
 however, whenever and wherever it shows itself, by certain 
 of the great potentates of Europe ; and it is opposed on 
 grounds as applicable in one civilized nation as in anothei-, 
 and which would justify such opposition in relation to 
 the United States, as well as in relation to any other 
 state or nation, if time and circumstance should render 
 such opposition expedient. 
 
312 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 What part it becomes this country to take on a question 
 of this sort, so far as it is called upon to take any part, 
 cannot be doubtful. Our side of this question is settled 
 for us, even without our own volition. Our history, our 
 situation, our character, necessarily decide our position 
 and our course, before we have even time to ask whether 
 we have an option. Our place is on the side of free institu- 
 tions. From the earliest settlement of these States, their 
 inhabitants were accustomed, in a greater or less degree, 
 to the enjoyment of the powers of self-government ; and 
 for the last half-century, they have sustained systems of 
 government entirely representative, yielding to themselves 
 the greatest possible prosperity, and not leaving them with- 
 out distinction and respect among the nations of the earth. 
 This system we are not likely to abandon ; and while we 
 shall no further recommend its adoption to other nations, 
 in whole or in part, than it may recommend itself by its 
 visible influence on our own growth and prosperity, we are, 
 nevertheless, interested to resist the establishment of doc- 
 trines which deny the legality of its foundations. We 
 stand as an equal among nations, claiming the full benefit 
 of the established international law; and it is our duty to 
 oppose, from the earliest to the latest moment, any innova- 
 tions upon that code, which shall bring into doubt or ques- 
 tion our own equal and independent rights. 
 
 I will now, Mr. Chairman, advert to those pretensions, 
 put forth by the Allied Sovereigns of continental Europe, 
 which seem to me calculated, if unresisted, to bring into 
 disrepute the principles of our Government, and indeed to 
 be wholly incompatible with any degree of national inde- 
 pendence. I do not introduce these considerations for the 
 sake of topics, I am not about to declaim against crowned 
 heads, nor to quarrel with any country for preferring a 
 form of ffovernment different from our own. The choice 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 313 
 
 that we exercise for ourselves, I am quite willing to leave 
 also to others. But it appears to me that the pretensions 
 of which I have spoken are wholly inconsistent with the 
 independence of nations generally, without regard to the 
 question, whether their governments be absolute, mon- 
 archical and limited, or purely popular and representa- 
 tive. I have a most deep and thorough conviction, that a 
 new era has arisen in the world, that new and dangerous 
 combinations are taking place, promulgating doctrines, and 
 fraught with consequences^ wholly subversive, in their ten- 
 dency, of the public law of nations, and of the general 
 liberties of mankind. Whether this be so, or not, is the 
 question which I now propose to examine, upon such 
 grounds of information, as the common and public means 
 of knowledge disclose. 
 
 Everybody knows that, since the final restoration of the 
 Bourbons to the throne of France, the continental powers 
 have entered into sundry alliances, which have been made 
 public, and have held several meetings or Congresses, at 
 which the principles of their political conduct have been 
 declared. These things must necessarily have an effect 
 upon the international law of the states of the world. If 
 that eiFect be good, and according to the principles of that 
 law, they deserve to be applauded. If, on the contrary, 
 their «;flFect and tendency be most dangerous, their prin- 
 ciples wholly inadmissible, their pretensions such as would 
 abolish every degree of national independence, then they 
 are to be resisted. 
 
 ] begin, Mr. Chairman, by drawing your attention to the 
 treaty, concluded at Paris in September, 1815, between 
 Russia, Prussia, and Austria, commonly called the Holy 
 Alliance. This singular alliance appears to have originated 
 with the Emperor of Russia ; for we are informed that a 
 draught of it was exhibited by him, personally, to a pleni- 
 
 27 
 
314 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 potentiary of one of the great powers of Europe, before 
 it was presented' to the other sovereigns who ultimately 
 signed it.* This instrument professes nothing, certainly, 
 which is not extremely commendable and praiseworthy. It 
 promises only that the contracting parties, both in relation 
 to other states, and in regard to their own subjects, will 
 observe the rules of justice and Christianity. In confirma- 
 tion of these promises, it makes the most solemn and de- 
 vout religious invocations. Now, although such an alliance 
 is a novelty in European history, the world seems to have 
 received this treaty, upon its first promulgation, with 
 general charity. It was commonly understood as little or 
 nothing more than an expression of thanks for the success- 
 ful termination of the momentous contest in which those 
 sovereigns had been engaged. It still seems somewhat 
 unaccountable, however, that these good resolutions should 
 require to be confirmed by treaty. Who doubted, that 
 these august sovereigns would treat each other with justice 
 and rule their own subjects in mercy ? And what necessity 
 was there, for a solemn stipulation by treaty, to insure the 
 performance of that, which is no more than the ordinary 
 duty of every Government ? It would hardly be admitted 
 by these sovereigns, that, by this compact, they suppose 
 themselves bound to introduce an entire change, or any 
 change, in the course of their own conduct. Nothing sub- 
 stantially new, certainly, can be supposed to have been 
 intended. What principle, or what practice, therefore, 
 called for this solemn declaration of the intention of the 
 parties to observe the rules of religion and justice ? 
 
 It is not a little remarkable, that a writer of reputation 
 
 * Vide Lord Castlereagh's Speech in the House of Commons, February 
 3, 1816. Debates in Parliament, vol. xxxvi. page 355 ; where also the 
 Treaty may be fouml at length. 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 815 
 
 upon the Public Law, described, many years ago, not in- 
 accurately, the character of this alliance : I allude to 
 Puffendorff. "It seems useless," says he, "to frame any 
 pacts or leagues barely for the defence and support of 
 universal peace ; for, by such a league, nothing is super- 
 added to the obligation, of natural law, and no agreement 
 is made for the performance of any thing, which the parties 
 were not previously bound to perform ; nor is the original 
 obligation rendered firmer or stronger by such an addition. 
 Men of any tolerable culture and civilization might well 
 be ashamed of entering into any such compact, the condi- 
 tions of which imply only that the parties concerned shall 
 not offend in any clear point of duty. Besides, we should 
 be guilty of great irreverence toward God, should we sup- 
 pose that his injunctions had not already laid a sufficient 
 obligation upon us to act justly, unless we ourselves volun- 
 tarily 'consented to the same engagement : as if our obliga- 
 tion to obey his will depended upon our own pleasure. 
 
 " If one engage to serve another, he does not set it 
 down expressly and particularly among the terms and 
 conditions of the bargain, that he will not betray nor 
 murder him, nor pillage nor burn his house. For the 
 same reason, that would be a dishonorable engagement in 
 which men should bind themselves to act properly and 
 decently, and not break the peace."* 
 
 Such were the sentiments of that eminent writer. How 
 nearly he had anticipated the case of the Holy Alliance, 
 will appear from comparing his observations with the pre- 
 amble to that alliance, which is as follows : 
 
 " In the name of the most Holy and Indivisible Trinity, 
 their Majesties the Emperor of Austria, the King of 
 Prussia, and the Emperor of Russia," — "solemnly de- 
 
 * Book 2, chap. ii. 
 
316 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 clare, that the present act has no other object than to 
 publish, in the face of the whole world, their fixed resolu- 
 tion, both in the administration of their respective States, 
 and in their political relations with every other Govern- 
 ment, to take for their sole guide the precepts of that 
 holy religion, — namely : the precM)ts of justice, Christian 
 charity, and peace, which, far from being applicable only 
 to private concerns, must have an immediate influence on 
 the councils of princes, and guide all their steps, as being 
 the only means of consolidating human institutions, and 
 remedying their imperfections." 
 
 This measure, however, appears principally important, 
 as it was the first of a series, and was followed afterw^ard 
 by others of a more marked and practical nature. These 
 measures, taken together, profess to establish two princi- 
 ples, which the Allied Powers would enforce, as a part 
 of the law of the civilized world; and the establis^iment 
 of Avhich is menaced by a million and a half of bayonets. 
 
 The first of these principles is, that all popular, or 
 constitutional rights, are holden no otherwise than as 
 grants from the crown. Society, upon this principle, has 
 no rights of its own ; it takes good government, when it 
 gets it, as a boon and a concession, but can demand 
 nothing. It is to live in that favor which emanates from 
 royal authority, and if it have the misfortune to lose that 
 favor, there is nothing to protect it against any degree of 
 injustice and oppression. It can rightfully make no en- 
 deavor for a change, by itself; its whole privilege is to 
 receive the favors that may be dispensed by the sovereign 
 power, and all its duty is described in the single word 
 submission. This is the plain result of the principal con- 
 tinental state papers ; indeed, it is nearly the identical text 
 of some of them. 
 
 The Laybach circular of May, 1821, alleges, " that 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION, 817 
 
 usefal nnd necessary changes in legislation and administra- 
 tion ought only to emanate from the free will and in- 
 telligent conviction of those whom God has rendered 
 responsible for power; all that deviates from this line 
 necessarily leads to disorder, commotions, and evils, far 
 more insufferable than those which they pretend to 
 remedy."* Now, sir, this principle would carry Europe 
 back again, at once, into the middle of the dark ages. It 
 is the old doctrine of the divine right of kings, advanced 
 now by new advocates, and sustained by a formidable 
 array of power. That the people hold their fundamental 
 privileges, as matter of concession or indulgence, from the 
 sovereign power, is a sentiment not easy to be diffused in 
 this age, any further than it is enforced by the direct 
 operation of military means. It is true, certainly, that 
 some six centuries ago, the early founders of English 
 liberty called the instrument which secured their rights a 
 Charter ; it was, indeed, a concession ; they had obtained 
 it, sword in hand, from the king; and, in many other 
 cases, whatever was obtained, favorable to human rights, 
 from the tyranny and despotism of the feudal sovereigns, 
 was called by the names of privileges and liberties, as 
 being matter of special favor. And, though we retain 
 this language at the present time, the principle itself 
 belongs to ages that have long passed by us. The civilized 
 world has done with the enormous faith, of many made for 
 one. Society asserts its own rights, and alleges them to 
 be original, sacred, and unalienable. It is not satisfied 
 with having kind masters ; it demands a participation in 
 its own government: and, in states much advanced in 
 civilization, it urges this demand with a constancy and an 
 energy, that cannot well, nor long, be resisted. There 
 
 * Annual Register, for 1821. 
 27* 
 
318 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 are, happily, enough of regulated Governments in the world, 
 and those among the most distinguished, to operate as 
 constant examples, and to keep alive an unceasing panting 
 in the bosoms of men for the enjoyment of similar free 
 institutions. 
 
 When the English Revolution of 1688 took place, the 
 English people did not content themselves with the ex- 
 ample of Runnymede ; they did not build their hopes 
 upon royal charters ; they did not, like the Laybach cir- 
 cular, suppose that all useful changes in constitutions and 
 laws must proceed from those only whom God has rendered 
 responsible for power. They were somewhat better in- 
 structed in the principles of civil liberty, or at least they 
 were better lovers of those principles, than the sovereigns 
 of Laybach. Instead of petitioning for charters, they de- 
 clared their rights, and, while they offered to the family of 
 Oran!Te the crown with one hand, they held in the other 
 an enumeration of those privileges which they did not pro- 
 fess to hold as favors, but which they demanded and in- 
 sisted upon, as their undoubted rights. 
 
 I need not stop to observe, Mr. Chairman, how totally 
 hostile are these doctrines of Laybach, to the fundamental 
 principles of our Government. They are in direct contra- 
 diction : the principles of good and evil are hardly more 
 opposite. If these principles of the sovereigns be true, 
 we are but in a state of rebellion, or of anarchy, and are 
 only tolerated among civilized states because it has not yet 
 been convenient to conform us to the true standard. 
 
 But the second, and, if possible, the still more ob- 
 jectionable principle, avowed in these papers, is the right 
 of forcible interference in the affairs of other states. A 
 rio^ht to control nations in their desire to change their own 
 Government, wherever it may be conjectured or pretended 
 that such change might furnish an example to the subjects 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 319 
 
 of Other states, is plainly and distinctly asserted. The 
 same Cono-ress that made the declaration at Lavbach had 
 declared, before its removal from Troppau, " That the 
 powers have an undoubted right to take a hostile attitude 
 in regard to those states in which the overthrow of the 
 Government may operate as an example." 
 
 There cannot, as I think, be conceived a more flagrant 
 violation of public law, or national independence, than is 
 contained in this short declaration. 
 
 No matter what be the character of the Government 
 resisted ; no matter with what weight the foot of the op- 
 pressor bears on the neck of the oppressed ; if he struggle, 
 or if he complain, he sets a dangerous example of resist- 
 ance, — and from that moment he becomes an object of 
 hostility to the most powerful potentates of the earth. I 
 want words to express my abhorrence of this abominable 
 principle. I trust every enlightened man throughout the 
 world will oppose it, and that, especially, those who, like 
 ourselves, are fortunately out of 'the reach of the bayonets 
 that enforce it, will proclaim their detestation of it, in a 
 tone both loud and decisive. The avowed object of such 
 declarations is to preserve the peace of the world. But by 
 what means is it proposed to preserve this peace ? Simply, 
 hy bringing the power of all the Governments to bear 
 against all subjects. Here is to be established a sort of 
 double, or treble, or quadruple, or, for aught I know, a 
 quintuple allegiance. An ofience against one king is to be 
 an offence against all kings, and the power of all i^; to be 
 put forth for the punishment of tke offender. A right to 
 interfere in extreme cases, in the case of contiguous states, 
 and where imminent danger is threatened to one by what 
 is transpiring in another, is not without precedent in 
 modern times, upon what has been called the law of 
 vicinage ; and when confined to extreme cases, and limited 
 
320 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 to a certain extent, it may perhaps be defended upon prin- 
 ciples of necessity and self-defence. But to maintain that 
 sovereigns may go to war upon the subjects of another 
 state to repress an example, is monstrous indeed. What 
 is to be the limit to such a principle, or to the practice 
 growing out of it? What, in any case, but sovereign 
 pleasure is to decide whether the example be good or bad ? 
 And what, under the operation of such rule, may be 
 thought of OUR examiJle ? Why are we not as fair objects 
 for the operation of the new principle, as any of those who 
 may attempt to reform the condition of their Government, 
 on the other side of the Atlantic ? 
 
 The ultimate effect of this alliance of sovereigns, for 
 objects personal to themselves, or respecting only the per- 
 manence of their own power, must be the destruction of 
 all just feeling, and all natural sympathy, between those 
 who exercise the power of government and those who are 
 subject to it. The old channels of mutual regard and con- 
 fidence are to be dried up, or cut off. Obedience can now 
 be expected no longer than it is enforced. Instead of 
 relying on the affections of the governed, sovereigns are to 
 rely on the affections and friendship of other sovereigns. 
 There are, in short, no longer to be nations. Princes and 
 people no longer are to unite for interests common to them 
 both. There is to be an end of all patriotism, as a distinct 
 national feeling. Society is to be divided horizontally ; 
 all sovereigns above, and all subjects below ; the former 
 coalescing for their own security, and for the more certain 
 subjection of the undistinguished multitude beneath. This, 
 sir, is no picture, drawn by imagination. I have hardly 
 used language stronger than that in which the authors of 
 this new system have commented on their own work. Mr. 
 Chateaubriand, in his speech in the French Chamber of 
 Deputies, in February last, declared, that he had a con- 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 321 
 
 ference ■with the Emperor of Russia at Verona, in which 
 that august sovereign uttered sentiments which appeared 
 to him so precious, that he immediately hastened home, 
 and wrote them down while yet fresh in his recollection. 
 " The Emperor declared,'' said he, " that there can no 
 longer he such a thing as an English, Erench, Hussian, 
 Prussian, or Austrian policy : there is henceforth but one 
 policy, which, for the safety of all, should he adopted both 
 hy people and kings. It was for me first to show myself 
 convinced of the principles upo7i ivhich I founded the 
 allia^ice ; an occasion offered itself ; the rising in Grreece. 
 Nothing certainly could occur more for my interests, for 
 the interests of my people, nothing more acceptable to my 
 country, than a religious war in Turkey: but I have 
 thought I perceived in the troubles of the Morea, the sign 
 of revolution, and I have held back. Providence has not 
 put under my command 800,000 soldiers, to satisfy my 
 ambition, but to protect religion, morality, and justice, and 
 to secure the p>revalence of those pi'inciples of order on 
 which human society rests. It may well be permitted that 
 kings may have public alliances to defend themselves 
 against secret enemies." 
 
 These, sir, are the words which the French minister 
 thought so important as that they deserved to be recorded ; 
 and I, too, sir, am of the same opinion. But, if it be true 
 that there is hereafter to be neither a Russian policy, nor 
 a Prussian policy, nor an Austrian policy, nor a French 
 policy, nor even, which yet I will not believe, an English 
 policy ; there will be, I trust in God, an American policy. 
 If the authority of all these Governments be hereafter to 
 be mixed and blended, and to flow in one augmented cur- 
 rent of prerogative, over the face of Europe, sweeping 
 away all resistance in its course, it will yet remain for us 
 to secure our own happiness, by the preservation of our 
 
322 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 own principles ; which I hope we shall have the manliness 
 to express on all proper occasions, and the spirit to defend 
 in every extremity. The end and scope of this amalga- 
 mated policy is neither more nor less than this : to inter- 
 fere, hy force^ for any Government, against any people who 
 may resist it. Be the state of the people what it may, 
 they shall not rise ; he the Government what it will, it 
 shall not be opposed. The practical commentary has cor- 
 responded with the plain language of the text. Look at 
 Spain, and at Greece. If men may not resist the Spanish 
 inquisition, and the Turkish scimetar, what is there to which 
 humanity must not submit ? Stronger cases can never 
 arise. Is it not proper for us, at all times — is it not our 
 duty, at this time, to come forth, and deny, and condemn, 
 these monstrous principles ? Where, but here, and in one 
 other place, are they likely to be resisted ? They are ad- 
 vanced with equal coolness and boldness ; and they are 
 supported by immense power. The timid will shrink and 
 give way — and many of the brave may be compelled to 
 yield to force. Human liberty may yet, perhaps, be 
 obliged to repose its principal hopes on the intelligence 
 and the vigor of the Saxon race. As far as depends on 
 us, at least, I trust those hopes will not be disappointed ; 
 and that, to the extent which may consist with our own 
 settled, pacific policy, our opinions and sentiments may be 
 brought to act, on the right side, and to the right end, on 
 an occasion which is, in truth, nothing less than a mo- 
 mentous question between an intelligent age, full of know- 
 ledge, thirsting for improvement, and quickened by a 
 thousand impulses, on one side, and the most arbitrary 
 pretensions, sustained by unprecedented power, on the 
 other. 
 
 This asserted right of forcible intervention, in the affairs 
 ( f other nations, is in open violation of the public law of 
 
 ^^n 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 323 
 
 the world. Who has authorized these learned doctors of 
 Troppau, to establish new articles in this code ? AVhence 
 are their diplomas ? Is the whole world expected to ac- 
 quiesce in principles, which entirely subvert the indepen- 
 dence of nations ? On the basis of this independence has 
 been reared the beautiful fabric of international law. On 
 the principle of this independence, Europe has seen a 
 family of nations, flourishing within its limits, the small 
 among the large, protected not always by power, but by a 
 principle above power, by a sense of propriety and justice. 
 On this principle the great commonwealth of civilized 
 states has been hitherto upheld. There have been occa- 
 sional departures, or violations, and always disastrous, as 
 in the case of Poland ; but, in general, the harmony of 
 the system has been wonderfully preserved. In the pro- 
 duction and preservation of this sense of justice, this pre- 
 dominating principle, the Christian religion has acted a 
 main part. Christianity and civilization have labored 
 together ; it seems, indeed, to be a law of our human con- 
 dition, that they can live and flourish only together. From 
 their blended influence has arisen that delightful spectacle 
 of the prevalence of reason and principle, over power 
 and interest, so well described by one who was an honor to 
 the age : 
 
 "And sovereign X«?t', the world' s collected will, 
 
 O'er thrones and globes elate, 
 Sits Empress — crowning good, re-pressing ill. 
 
 Smit by her sacr.ed frown, 
 The fiend, Discretion, like a vapor, sinks. 
 
 And e'en the all-dazzling crown 
 Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks." 
 
 But this vision is past. While the teachers of Laybach 
 give the rule, there will be no law but the law of the 
 strongest. 
 
324 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 It may now be required of me to show what interest we 
 have, in resisting this new system. What is it to us, it 
 may be asked, upon what principles, or what pretences, 
 the European Governments assert a right of interfering 
 in the affairs of their neighbors ? The thunder, it may 
 be said, rolls at a distance. The wide Atlantic is between 
 us and danger ; and, however others may suffer, toe shall 
 remain safe. 
 
 I think it a sufficient answer to this, to say, that we are 
 one of the nations ; that we have an interest, therefore, in 
 the preservation of that system of national law and na- 
 tional intercourse, which has heretofore subsisted, so bene- 
 ficially for all. Our system of government, it should also 
 be remembered, is, throughout, founded on principles ut- 
 terly hostile to the new code ; and, if we remain undis- 
 turbed by its operation, we shall owe our security, either 
 to our situation or our spirit. The enterprising character 
 of the age, our own active commercial spirit, the great in- 
 crease which has taken place in the intercourse between 
 civilized and commercial States, have necessarily con- 
 nected us with the nations of the earth, and given us a 
 high concern in the preservation of those salutary prin- 
 ciples, upon which that intercourse is founded. We have 
 as clear an interest in international law, as individuals 
 have in the laws of society. 
 
 But, apart from the soundness of the policy, on the 
 ground of direct interest, we have, sir, a duty, connected 
 with this subject, which, I trust, we are willing to perform. 
 What do we not owe to the cause of civil and religious 
 liberty ? to the principle of lawful resistance ? to the prin- 
 ciple that society has a right to partake in its own govern- 
 ment ? As the leading Republic of the world, living and 
 breathing in these principles, and advanced, by their 
 operation, with unequalled rapidity, in our career, shall 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 325 
 
 we give our consent to bring them into disrepute and dis- 
 grace ? It is neither ostentation nor boasting, to say, that 
 there lie before this country, in immediate prospect, a 
 great extent and height of power. We are borne along 
 toward this, without effort, and not always even with a full 
 knowledge of the rapidity of our own motion. Circum- 
 stances which never combined before, have co-operated in 
 our favor, and a mighty current is setting us forward, 
 which we could not resist, even if we would, and which, 
 while we would stop to make an observation, and take the 
 sun, has set us, at the end of the operation, fur in advance 
 of the place wdiere we commenced it. Does it not become 
 us, then, is it not a duty imposed on us, to give our weight 
 to the side of liberty and justice — to let mankind know 
 that we are not tired of our own institutions — and to pro- 
 test against the asserted power of altering, at pleasure, the 
 law of the civilized world ? 
 
 But whatever we do, in this respect, it becomes us to do 
 upon clear and consistent principles. There is an import- 
 ant topic in the message, to which I have yet hardly al- 
 luded. I mean the rumored combination of the European 
 continental sovereigns, against the new'-established free 
 states of South America. Whatever position this Govern- 
 ment may take on that subject, I trust it will be one which 
 can be defended, on knowi^ and acknowledged grounds of 
 right. The near approach, or the remote distance, of 
 danger, may affect policy, but cannot change principle. 
 The same reason that would authorize us to protest against 
 unwarrantable combinations to interfere between Spain 
 and her former colonies, would authorize us equally to 
 protest, if the same combination were directed against the 
 smallest state in Europe, although our duty to ourselves, 
 our policy, and wisdom, might indicate very different 
 courses, as fit to be pursued by us in the two cases. We 
 
 2S 
 
326 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 shall not, I trust, act upon the notion of dividing the 
 world with the Holy Alliance, and complain of nothing 
 done hy them in their hemisphere, if they will not inter- 
 fere with ours. At least this would not be such a course 
 of pohcy as I could recommend or support. We have 
 not offended, and, I hope, we do not intend to offend, in 
 regard to South America, against any principle of na- 
 tional independence or of public law. We have done 
 nothing, we shall do nothing, that we need to hush up or 
 to compromise, by forbearing to express our sympathy 
 for the cause of the Greeks, or our opinion of the course 
 which other Governments have adopted in regard to them. 
 It may, in the next place, be asked, perhaps, Supposing 
 all this to be true, what can we do ? Are we to go to war ? 
 Are we to interfere in the Greek cause, or any other 
 European cause ? Are we to endanger our pacific rela- M 
 
 tions ? No, certainly not. What, then, the question J 
 recurs, remains for us.^ If we will not endanger our own ~' 
 peace, if we will neither furnish armies, nor navies, to the 
 cause which we think the just one, what is there within 
 our power ? 
 
 Sir, this reasoning mistakes the age. The time has been, 
 indeed, when fleets, and armies, and subsidies, were the 
 principal reliances even in the best cause. But, happily 
 for mankind, there has arrive^ a great change in this 
 respect. Moral causes come into consideration, in propor- 
 tion as the progress of knoAvledge is advanced ; and the 
 'public opinion of the civilized world is rapidly gaining an 
 ascendency over mere brutal force. It is already able to 
 oppose the most formidable obstruction to the progress of 
 injustice nnd oppression; and, as it grows more intelligent 
 and more intense, it will be more and more formidable. It 
 may be silenced by militiiry power, but it cannot be con- 
 quered. It is elastic, irrepressible, and invulnerable to the 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 327 
 
 weapons of ordinary warfare. It is that impassable, un- 
 extinguishable enemy of mere violence and arbitrary rule, 
 which, like Milton's angels, 
 
 " Vital in every part, 
 Cannot, but by annihilating, die." 
 
 Until this be propitiated or satisfied, it is vain for power 
 to talk either of triumphs or of repose, no matter what 
 fields are desolated, what fortresses surrendered, what 
 armies subdued, or what provinces overrun. In the history 
 of the year that has passed by us, and in the instance of 
 unhappy Spain, we have seen the vanity of all triumphs 
 in a cause which violates the general sense of justice of the 
 civilized world. It is nothing that the troops of France 
 have passed from the Pyrenees to Cadiz ; it is nothing that 
 an unhappy and prostrate nation has fallen before them ; 
 it is nothing that arrests, and confiscation, and execution, 
 sweep away the little remnant of national resistance. There 
 is an enemy that still exists to check the glory of these 
 triumphs. It follows the conqueror back to the very scene 
 of his ovations '/ it calls upon him to take notice that 
 Europe, though silent, is yet indignant ; it shows him that 
 the sceptre of his victory is a barren sceptre ; that it bliall 
 confer neither joy nor honor, but shall moulder to dry 
 ashes in his grasp. In the midst of his exultation, it 
 pierces his ear with the cry of injured justice, it denounces 
 ajjainst him the indignation of an enlio-litened and civilized 
 age ; it turns to bitterness the cup of his rejoicing, and 
 wounds him with the sting which belongs to the conscious- 
 ness of having outraged the opinion of mankind. 
 
 In my own opinion, sir, the Spanish nation is now nearer, 
 not only in point of time, but in point of circumstance, to 
 the acquisition of a regulated Government, than at the 
 moment of the French invasion. Nations must, no doubt, 
 undergo these trials in their progress to the establishment 
 
328 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 of free institutions. The very trials benefit them, and 
 render them more capable both of obtaining and of enjoy- 
 ing the object which they seek. 
 
 I shall not detain the committee, sir, by laying before it 
 any statistical, geographical, or commercial account of 
 Greece. I have no knowledge on these subjects, which is 
 not common to all. It is universally admitted, that, within 
 the last thirty or forty years, the condition of Greece has 
 been greatly improved. Her marine is at present respect- 
 able, containing the best sailors in the Mediterranean, 
 better even, in that sea, tlian our own, as more accustomed 
 to the long quarantines and other regulations which pre- 
 vail in its ports. The number of her seamen has been 
 estimated as liigh as 50,000, but I suppose that estimate 
 must be much too large. They have probably 150,000 
 tons of shipping. It is not easy to state an accurate ac- 
 count of Grecian population. The Turkish Government 
 does not trouble itself witli any of the calculations of 
 political economy, and there has never been such a thing 
 as an accurate census, probably, in any part of the Turkish 
 empire. In tlie absence of all official information, private 
 opinions widely diifer. By the tables which have been 
 communicated, it Avould seem that there are 2,400,000 
 Greeks in Greece proper and the Islands ; an amount, as I 
 am inclined to think, somcAvhat overrated. There are, 
 probably, in the wliole of European Turkey, 5,000,000 
 Greeks, and 2,000,000 more in the Asiatic dominions of 
 that power. The moral and intellectual progress of this 
 numerous population, under the horrible oppression which 
 crushes it, has been such as may well excite regard. Slaves, 
 under barbarous masters, tlie Greeks have still aspired 
 after the blessings of knowledge and civilization. Before 
 the breaking out of the present revolution, they had esta- 
 blished schools, and colleges, and libraries, and the press. 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 329 
 
 Wherever, ns in Scio, owing to particular circumstances, 
 the weight of oppression was mitigated, the natural vivacity 
 of the Greeks, and their aptitude for the arts, were dis- 
 covered. Though certainly not on an equality with the 
 civilized and Christian states of Europe, (and how is it pos- 
 sible under such oppression as they endured that they 
 should be?) they yet furnished a striking contrast with 
 their Tartar masters. It has been well said, that it is not 
 easy to form a just conception of the nature of the despotism 
 exercised over them. Conquest and subjugation, as known 
 among European states, are inadequate modes of expression 
 by which to denote the dominion of the Turks. A con- 
 quest, in the civilized world, is generally no more than an 
 acquisition of a new dominion to the conquering country. 
 It does not imply a never-ending bondage imposed upon 
 the conquered, a perpetual mark, and opprobrious distinc- 
 tion between them and their masters ; a bitter and unbend- 
 ing persecution of their religion ; an habitual violation of 
 their rights of person and property, and the unrestrained 
 indulgence toward them, of every passion which belongs 
 to the character of a barbarous soldiery. Yet such is the 
 state of Greece. The Ottoman poAver over them, obtained 
 originally by the sword, is constantly preserved by the 
 same means. Wherever it exists, it is a mere military 
 power. The religious and civil code of the State, being 
 both fixed in the Alcoran, and equally the object of an 
 ignorant and furious faith, have been found equally inca- 
 pable of change. "The Turk," it has been said, "has 
 been encamped in Europe for four centuries." He has 
 hardly any more participation in European manners, know- 
 ledge, and arts, than when he crossed the Bosphorus. But 
 this is not the Avorst of it. The power of the empire is 
 fallen into anarchy, and as the principle which belongs to 
 the head belongs also to the parts, there are as many 
 
 2S* 
 
330 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 despots as there are pachas, beys, and visiers. Wars are 
 almost perpetual, between the Sultan and some rebellious 
 governor of a province ; and in the conflict of these 
 despotisms, the people are necessarily ground between the 
 upper and the nether millstone. In short, the Christian 
 subjects of the Sublime Porte, feel daily all the miseries 
 which flow from despotism, from anarchy, from slavery, 
 and from religious persecution. If any thing yet remains 
 to heighten such a picture, let it be added, that every ofiice 
 in the Government is not only actually, but professedly, 
 venal ; — the pachalics, the visierates, the cadiships, and 
 whatsoever other denomination may denote the depositary 
 of power. In the whole world, sir, there is no such op- 
 pression felt, as by the Christian Greeks. In various parts 
 of India, to-be-sure, the government is bad enough ; but 
 then it is the government of barbarians over barbarians, 
 and the feeling of oppression is, of course, not so keen. 
 There the oppressed are perhaps not better than their op- 
 pressors ; but in the case of Greece, there are millions of 
 Christian men, not without knowledge, not without refine- 
 ment, not without a strong thirst for all the pleasures of 
 civilized life, trampled into the very earth, century after 
 century, by a pillaging, savage, relentless soldiery. Sir, 
 the case is unique. There exists, and has existed, nothing 
 like it. The world has no such misery to show ; there is 
 no case in which Christian communities can be called upon 
 with such emphasis of appeal. 
 
 But I have said enough, Mr. Chairman, indeed, I need 
 have said nothing, to satisfy the House, that it must be 
 some new combination of circumstances, or new views of 
 policy in the cabinets of Europe, which have caused this 
 interesting struggle not merely to be regarded with in- 
 difference, but to be marked with opprobrium. Tlie very 
 statement of the case, as a contest between the Turks and 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 331 
 
 Greeks, sufficiently indicates what must be the feeling of 
 every individual, and every Government, that is ^lot 
 biassed by a particular interest, or a particular feeling, to 
 disregard the dictates of justice and humanity. 
 
 And now, sir, what has been the conduct pursued by the 
 Allied Powers, in regard to this contest ? When the revo- 
 lution broke out, the sovereigns were in Congress at Lay- 
 bach ; and the papers of that assembly sufficiently mani- 
 fest their sentiments. They proclaimed their abhorrence 
 of those " criminal combinations which had been formed 
 in the eastern parts of Europe;" and, although it is 
 possible that this denunciation was aimed, more particu- 
 larly, at the disturbances in the provinces of Wallachia 
 and Moldavia, yet no exception is made, from its general 
 terms, in favor of those events in Greece, which were 
 properly the commencement of her revolution, and which 
 could not but be well known at Laybach, before the date 
 of these declarations. Now, it must be remembered, that 
 Russia was a leading party in this denunciation of the 
 efforts of the Greeks to achieve their liberation ; and it 
 cannot but be expected by Russia that the world shall also 
 remember what part she herself has heretofore acted, in 
 the same concern. It is notorious, that within the last 
 half-century she has again and again excited the Greeks 
 to rebellion against the Porte, and that she has constantly 
 kept alive in them the hope that she would, one day, by 
 her own great power, break the yoke of their oppressor. 
 Indeed, the earnest attention with which Russia has re- 
 garded Greece, goes much farther back than to the time I 
 have mentioned. Ivan the Third, in 1482, having espoused 
 a Grecian princess, heiress of the last Greek emperor, dis- 
 carded St. G-eorge from the Russian arms, and adopted in 
 its stead the Greeh two-headed black eagle, which has con- 
 tinued in the Russian arms to the present day. In virtue 
 
332 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 of the same marriage, the Russian princes claimed the 
 Greek throne as their inheritance. 
 
 Under Peter the Great, the policy of Russia developed 
 itself more fully. In 1696, he rendered himself master 
 of Azoph, and in 1698, obtained the right to pass the 
 Dardanelles, and to maintain, by that route, commercial 
 intercourse with the Mediterranean. He had emissaries 
 throughout Greece, and particularly applied himself to 
 gain the clergy. He adopted the Laharum of Constan- 
 tine, "/w hoc sigtio vi7ices ;" and medals were struck, with 
 the inscription, '■'' Petrus I. Russo-Grcecorum Imjyeratoi-." 
 In whatever new direction the principles of the Holy 
 Alliance may now lead the politics of Russia, or whatever 
 course she may suppose Christianity now prescribes to her, 
 in regard to the Greek cause, the time has been when she 
 professed to be contending for that cause, as identified with 
 Christianity. The white banner under which the soldiers 
 of Peter the First usually fought, bore, as its ij:iscription, 
 " In the name of the Prince, and for our country.'' Re- 
 lying on the aid of the Greeks, in his war with the Porte, 
 he changed the white flag to red, and displayed on it the 
 words, " In the name of God, and for Christianity.'' 
 The unfortunate issue of this war is well known. Though 
 Anne and Elizabeth, the successors of Peter, did not 
 possess his active character, they kept up a constant com- 
 munication with Greece, and held out hopes of restoring 
 the Greek Empire. Catherine the Second, as is well 
 known, excited a general revolt in 1769. A Russian fleet 
 appeared in the Mediterranean, and a Russian army was 
 landed in the Morea. The Greeks in the end were dis- 
 gusted by being required to take an oath of allegiance to 
 Russia, and the empress was disgusted because they re- 
 fused to take it. In 1774, peace was signed between 
 Russia and the Porte, and the Greeks of the Morea were 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 333 
 
 left to their fate. By this treaty the Porte acknowledged 
 the independence of the Khan of the Crimea ; a pre- 
 liminary step to the acquisition of that country by Russia. 
 It is not unworthy of remark, as a circumstance which 
 distinguished this from most other diplomatic transactions, 
 that it conceded the right to the cabinet of St. Peters- 
 burg, of intervention in the interior affairs of Turkey, in 
 regard to whatever concerned the religion of the Greeks. 
 The cruelties and massacres that happened to the Greeks 
 after the peace between Russia and the Porte, notwith- 
 standing the general pardon which had been stipulated 
 for them, need not now to be recited. Instead of re- 
 tracing the deplorable picture, it is enough to say, that in 
 tliis respect the past is justly reflected in the present. 
 The empress soon after invaded and conquered the Crimea, 
 and on one of the gates of Kerson, its capital, caused to 
 be inscribed, " The road to Byzantium." The present 
 emperor, on his accession to the throne, manifested an 
 intention to adopt the policy of Catherine the Second as 
 his own, and the world has not been right, in all its sus- 
 picions, if a project for the partition of Turkey did not 
 form a part of the negotiations of Napoleon and Alex- 
 ander at Tilsit. 
 
 All this course of policy seems suddenly to be changed. 
 Turkey is no longer regarded, it would appear, as an ob- 
 ject of partition or acquisition, and Greek revolts have, 
 all at once, become, according to the declaration of Lay- 
 bach, "criminal combinations." The recent Congress at 
 Verona exceeded its predecessor at Laybach, in its de- 
 nunciations of the Greek struggle. In the circular of the 
 14th of December, 1822, it declared the Grecian resist- 
 ance to the Turkish power to be rash and culpable, and 
 lamented that " the firebrand of rebellion had been thrown 
 into the Ottoman Empire." This rebuke and crimination, 
 
334 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 we know to have proceeded on those settled principles of 
 conduct, which the continental powers had prescribed for 
 themselves. The sovereigns saw, as well as others, the 
 real condition of the Greeks ; they knew, as well as 
 others, that it was most natural and most justifiable, that 
 they should endeavor, at whatever hazard, to change, that 
 condition. They knew, that they, themselves, or at least 
 one of them, had more than once urged the Greeks to 
 similar efforts ; that they, themselves, had thrown the 
 same firebrand into the midst of the Ottoman Empire. 
 And yet, so much does it seem to be their fixed object to 
 discountenance whatsoever threatens to disturb the actual 
 Government of any -country, that. Christians as they were, 
 and allied as they professed to be, for purposes most im- 
 portant to human happiness and religion, they have not 
 hesitated to declare to the world, that they have wholly 
 forborne to exercise any compassion to the Greeks, simply 
 because they thought that they saw, in the struggles of the 
 Morea, the sign of revolution. This, then, is coming to a 
 plain, practical result. The Grecian revolution has been 
 discouraged, discountenanced, and denounced, for no reason 
 but because it is a revolution. Independent of all inquiry 
 into the reasonableness of its causes, or the enormity of 
 the oppression which produced it ; regardless of the pecu- 
 liar claims Avhich Greece possesses upon the civilized world ; 
 and regardless of what has been their own conduct toward 
 her for a century ; regardless of the interest of the Chris- 
 tian religion, the sovereigns at Verona seized upon the 
 case of the Greek revolution, as one above all others 
 calculated to illustrate the fixed principles of their policy. 
 The abominable rule of the Porte on one side, the valor 
 and the suff"erings of the Christian Greeks on the other, 
 furnished a case likely to convince even an incredulous 
 world of the sincerity of the professions of the Allied 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 335 
 
 Powers. They embraced the occasion, with apparent 
 ardor ; and the world, I trust, is satisfied. 
 
 We see here, Mr. Chairman, the direct and actual ap- 
 plication of that system which I have attempted to de- 
 scribe. We see it in the very case of Greece. We learn, 
 authentically and indisputably, that the Allied Powers^ 
 holding that all changes in legislation and administration 
 ought to proceed from kings alone, were wholly inexorable 
 to the sufferings of the Greeks, and wholly hostile to their 
 success. Now it is upon this practical result of the princi- 
 ple of the continental powers, that I wish this House to 
 intimate its opinion. The great question is a question of 
 principle. Greece is only the signal instance of the ap- 
 plication of that principle. If the principle be right, if 
 we esteem it conformable to the law of nations,'' if' we 
 have nothing to say against it, or if we deem ourselves 
 unfit to express an opinion on the subject, then, of course, 
 no resolution ought to pass. If, on the other hand, we 
 see in the declarations of the Allied Powers, principles not 
 only utterly hostile to our own free institutions, but hostile 
 also to the independence of all nations, and altogether 
 opposed to the improvement of the condition of human 
 nature ; if, in the instance before us, we see a most strik- 
 ing exposition and application of those principles, and if 
 we deem our own opinions to be entitled to any weight in 
 the estimation of mankind ; then, I think, it is our duty 
 to adopt some such measure as the proposed resolution. 
 
 It is worthy of observation, sir, that as early as July, 
 1821, Baron Strogonoff, the Russian minister at Con- 
 stantinople, represented to the Porte, that, if the undis- 
 tinguished massacres of the Greeks, both of such as were 
 in open resistance, and of those who remained patient in 
 their submission, were continued, and should become a 
 settled habit, they would give just cause of war againsl 
 
836 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 the Porte to all Christian states. This was in 1821. It 
 was followed, early in the next year, by that indescribable 
 enormity, that appalling monument of barbarian cruelty, 
 the destruction of Scio ; a scene I shall not attempt to 
 describe; a scene from which human nature shrinks 
 shuddering away ; a scene having hardly a parallel in 
 the history of fallen man. This scene, too, was quickly 
 followed by the massacres in Cyprus ; and all these things 
 were perfectly known to the Christian powers assembled 
 at Verona. Yet these powers, instead of acting upon the 
 case supposed by Baron Strogonoff, and which, one would 
 think, had been then fully made out ; instead of being 
 moved by any compassion for the sufferings of the Greeks ; 
 these powers, these Christian powers, rebuke their gal- 
 lantry,, and insult their sufferings, by accusing them of 
 "throwing a firebrand into the Ottoman Empire." 
 
 Such, sir, appear to me to be the principles on which 
 the continental powers of Europe have agreed hereafter to 
 act ; and this, an eminent instance of the application of 
 those principles. 
 
 I shall not detain the Committee, Mr. Chairman, by 
 any attempt to recite the events of the Grreek struggle, up 
 to the present time. Its origin may be found, doubtless, 
 in that improved state of knowledge, which, for some 
 years, has been gradually taking place hi that country. 
 The emancipation of the Greeks has been a subject fre- 
 quently discussed in modern times. They themselves are 
 represented as having a vivid remembrance of the dis- 
 tinction of their ancestors, not unmixed with an indignant 
 feeling, that civilized and Christian Europe should, not, 
 ere now, have aided them in breaking their intolerable 
 
 fetters. 
 
 In 1816, a society was founded in Vienna, for the en- 
 couragement of Grecian literature. It was connected with 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 337 
 
 a similar institiit'nn at Athens, and another in Thessaly, 
 called the " Gymnasium of Mount Pelion." The treasury 
 and general office of the institution was established at 
 Munich. No political object was avowed by these institu- 
 tions, probably none contemplated. Still, however, they 
 have, no doubt, had their effect in hastening that con- 
 dition of things, in which the Greeks felt competent to 
 the establishment of their independence. Many young 
 men have been, for years, annually sent to the universities 
 in the western states of Europe for their education ; and, 
 after the general pacification of Europe, many military 
 men, discharged from other employment, were ready to 
 enter even into so unpromising a service as that of the 
 revolutionary Greeks. 
 
 In 1820, war commenced between the Porte and Ali, the 
 well-known pacha of Albania. Differences existed also 
 with Persia, and with Russia, In this state of things, at 
 the beginning of 1821, an insurrection appears to have 
 broken out in Moldavia, under the direction of Alexander 
 Ypsilanti, a well-educated soldier, who had been major- 
 general in the Russian service. From his character, and 
 the number of those who seemed disposed to join him, he 
 was supposed to be countenanced by the court of St. 
 Petersburg. This, however, was a great mistake, which 
 the Emperor, then at Laybach, took an early opportunity 
 to rectify. The Porte, it would seem, however, alarmed at 
 these occurrences in the northern provinces, caused search 
 to be made of all vessels entering the Black Sea, lest arms 
 or other military means should be sent in that manner to 
 the insurgents. This proved inconvenient to the commerce 
 of Russia, and caused some unsatisfactory correspondence 
 between the two powers. It may be worthy of remark, as 
 an exhibition of national character, that, agitated by these 
 appearances of intestine commotion, the Sultan issued a 
 
 29 
 
338 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 proclamation, calling on all true Mussulmans to renounce 
 the pleasures of social life, to prepare arms and horses, and 
 to return to the manner of their ancestors, the life of the 
 plains. The Turk seems to have thought that he had, at 
 last, caught something of the dangerous contagion of 
 European civilization, and that it was necessary to reform 
 his habits, by recurring to the original manners of military- 
 roving barbarians. 
 
 It was about this time, that is to say, at the commence- 
 ment of 1821, that the Revolution burst out in various 
 parts of Greece and the Isles. Circumstances, certainly, 
 were not unfavorable, as one portion of the Turkish army 
 was employed in the war against Ali Pacha in Albania, and 
 another part in the provinces north of the Danube. The 
 Greeks soon possessed themselves of the open country of 
 the Morea, and drove their enemy into the fortresses. Of 
 these, that of Tripolitza, with the city, fell into the hands 
 of the Greeks, in the course of the summer. Having after 
 these first movements obtained time to breathe, it became, 
 of course, an early object to establish a government. For 
 this purpose delegates of the people assembled, under that 
 name which describes the assembly in which we ourselves 
 sit, that name which "freed the Atlantic," a Congress. A 
 writer, who undertakes to render to the civilized world that 
 service which -was once performed by Edmund Burke, I 
 mean the compiler of the English Annual Register, asks, 
 hy what authority this assembly could call itself a Qongress. 
 Simply, sir, by the same authority, by which the people of 
 the United States have given the same name to their own 
 legislature. We, at least, should be naturally inclined to 
 think, not only as far as names, but things also, are con- 
 cerned, that the Greeks could hardly have begun their 
 revolution under better auspices ; since they have endea- 
 vored to render applicable to themselves the general 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 339 
 
 principles of our form of government, as well as its name. 
 This Constitution went into operation at the commence- 
 ment of the next year. In the mean time, the war with 
 Ali Pacha was ended, he having surrendered, and being 
 afterward assassinated, by an instance of treachery and 
 perfidy, which, if it had happened elsewhere than under 
 the government of the Turks, would have deserved notice. 
 
 The negotiation with Russia, too, took a turn unfavor- 
 able to the Greeks. The great point upon which Russia 
 insisted, besides the abandonment of the measure of search- 
 ing vessels bound to the Black Sea, was, that the Porte 
 should withdraw its armies from the neighborhood of the 
 Russian frontiers ; and the immediate consequence of this, 
 when effected, was to add so much more to the disposable 
 force ready to be employed against the Greeks. These 
 events seemed to have left the whole force of the empire, 
 at the commencement of 1822, in a condition to be em- 
 ployed against the Greek rebellion ; and, accordingly, very 
 many anticipated the immediate destruction of their cause. 
 The event, however, Avas ordered otherwise. Where the 
 greatest effort was made, it was met and defeated. Enter- 
 ing the Morea with an army which seemed capable of 
 bearing down all resistance, the Turks were nevertheless 
 defeated and driven back, and pursued beyond the isthmus, 
 within which, as far as it appears, from that time to the 
 present, they have not been able to set their foot. 
 
 It was in April, of this year, that the destruction of 
 Scio took place. That island, a sort of appanage of the 
 Sultana mother, enjoyed many privileges peculiar to itself. 
 In a population of 130,000 or 140,000, it had no more 
 than 2000 or 3000 Turks ; indeed, by some accounts, not 
 near as many. The absence of these ruffian masters had, 
 in some degree, allowed opportunity for the promotion of 
 knowledge, the accumulation of wealth, and the general 
 
340 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 cultivation of society. Here was the seat of the modern 
 Greek literature, here were libraries, printing-presses, and 
 other establishments, which indicate some advancement in 
 refinement and knowledge. Certain of the inhabitants of 
 Samos, it would seem, envious of this comparative happi- 
 ness of Scio, landed upon the island, in an irregular multi- 
 tude, for the purpose of compelling its inhabitants to make 
 common cause with their countrymen against their op- 
 pressors. These, being joined by the peasantry, marched 
 to the city, and drove the Turks into the castle. The 
 Turkish fleet, lately reinforced from Egypt, happened to 
 be in the neighboring seas, and learning these events, 
 landed a force on the island of 15,000 men. There was 
 nothing to resist such an army. These troops immediately 
 entered the city, and began an indiscriminate massacre. 
 The city Avas fired; and, in four days, the fire and the 
 sword of the Turk rendered the beautiful Scio a clotted 
 mass of blood and ashes. The details are too shocking to 
 be recited. Forty thousand women and children, unhappily 
 saved from the general destruction, were afterward sold in 
 the market of Smyrna, and sent ofi" into distant and hope- 
 less servitude. Even on the wharves of our own cities, it 
 has been said, have been sold the utensils of those hearths 
 which now exist no longer. Of the whole population which 
 I have mentioned, not above 900 persons were left living 
 upon the island. I will only repeat, sir, that these tragical 
 scenes were as fully known at the Congress of Verona, as 
 they are now known to us ; and it is not too much to call 
 on the powers that constituted that Congress, in the name 
 of conscience, and in the name of humanity, to tell us, if 
 there be nothing even in these unparalleled excesses of 
 Turkish barbarity, to excite a sentiment of compassion ; 
 nothing which they regard as so objectionable as even the 
 very idea of popular resistance to power. 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 341 
 
 The events of the year which has just passed by, as far 
 as they have become known to us, have been even more 
 favorable to the Greeks, than those of the year preceding. 
 I omit all details, as being as well known to others as to 
 myself. Suffice it to say, that with no other enemy to con- 
 tend with, and no diversion of his force to other objects, 
 the Porte has not been able to carry the war into the 
 Morea ; and that, by the last accounts, its armies were 
 acting defensively in Thessaly. I pass over also the naval 
 enffajjcments of the Greeks, althouo-h that is a mode of 
 warfare in which they are calculated to excel, and in which 
 they have already performed actions of such distinguished 
 skill and bravery as would draw applause upon the best 
 mariners in the world. The present state of the war would 
 seem to be, that the Greeks possess the whole of the Morea, 
 with the exception of the three fortresses of Patras, Coron, 
 and Modon ; all Candia, but one fortress ; and most of the 
 other islands. They possess the citadel of Athens, Mis- 
 solonghi, and several other places in Livadia. They have 
 been able to act on the offensive and to carry the war be- 
 yond the isthmus. There is no reason to believe their 
 marine is weakened ; probably, on the other hand, it is 
 strengthened. But, what is most of all important, they 
 have obtained time and experience. They have awakened 
 a sympathy throughout Europe and throughout America ; 
 and they have formed a government which seems suited to 
 the emergency of their condition. 
 
 Sir, they have done much. It would be great injustice 
 to compare their achievements with our own. We began 
 our Revolution already possessed of government, and, 
 comparatively, of civil liberty. Our ancestors had, for 
 centuries, been accustomed in a great measure to govern 
 themselves. They were well acquainted with popular 
 elections and legislative assemblies, and the general prin- 
 
 29* 
 
342 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 ciples and practice of free governments. They had little 
 else to do than to throw off the paramount authority of the 
 parent state. Enough was still left, both of laAV and of 
 organization, to conduct society in its accustomed course, 
 and to unite men together for a common object. The 
 Greeks, of course, could act with little concert at the be- 
 ginning ; they were unaccustomed to the exercise of poAver, 
 without experience, with limited knowledge, without aid, 
 and surrounded by nations, which, whatever claims the 
 Grreeks might seem to have had upon them, have afforded 
 them nothing but discouragement and reproach. They 
 have held out, however, for three campaigns; and that, at 
 least, is something. Constantinople and the northern pro- 
 vinces have sent forth thousands of troops ; they have been 
 defeated. Tripoli, and Algiers, and Egypt, have con- 
 tributed their marine contingents ; they have not kept the 
 ocean. Hordes of Tartars have crossed the Bosphorus ; 
 they have died where the Persians died. The powerful 
 monarchies in the neighborhood have denounced their 
 cause, and admonished them to abandon it, and submit to 
 their fate. They have answered them, that, although two 
 hundred thousand of their countrymen have offered up 
 their lives, there yet remain lives to offer ; and that it is 
 the determination of all, "yes, of all," to persevere until 
 they shall have established their liberty, or until the power 
 of their oppressors shall have relieved them from the burden 
 of existence. 
 
 It may now be asked, perhaps, whether the expression 
 of our own sympathy, and that of the country, may do 
 them good. I hope it may. It may give them courage 
 and spirit, it may assure them of public regard, teach them 
 that they are not wholly forgotten by the civilized world, 
 and inspire them with constancy in the pursuit of their 
 great end. At any rate, sir, it appears to me, that the 
 
ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION. 343 
 
 measure wLicli I have proposed is due to our own cha- 
 racter, and called for bj our own duty. When we shall 
 have discharged that duty, we may leave the rest to the 
 disposition of Providence. 
 
 I do not see how it can be doubted, that this measure is 
 entirely pacific. I profess my inability to perceive that it 
 has any possible tendency to involve our neutral relations. 
 If the resolution pass, it is not, necessarily, to be imme- 
 diately acted on. It will not be acted on at all, unless, in 
 the opinion of the President, a proper and safe occasion 
 for acting upon it shall arise. If we adopt the resolution 
 to-day, our relations with every foreign state will be to- 
 morrow precisely what they now are. The resolution will 
 be sufficient to express our sentiments on the subjects to 
 which I have adverted. Useful to that purpose, it can be 
 mischievous to no purpose. If the topic were properly in- 
 troduced into the message, it cannot be improperly intro- 
 duced into discussion in this House. If it were proper, 
 which no one doubts, for the President to express his 
 opinions upon it, it cannot, I think, be improper for us to 
 express ours. The only certain effect of this resolution is 
 to express, in a form usual in bodies constituted like this, 
 our approbation of the general sentiment of the message. 
 Do we wish to withhold that approbation ? The resolution 
 confers on the President no new power, nor does it enjoin 
 on him the exercise of any neiv duty ; nor does it hasten 
 him in the discharge of any existing duty. 
 
 I cannot imagine that this resolution can add any thino- 
 to those excitements which it has been supposed, I think 
 very causelessly, might possibly provoke the Turkish Go- 
 vernment to acts of hostility. There is already the mes- 
 sage, expressing the hope of success to the Greeks, and 
 disaster to the Turks, in a much stronger manner than is 
 to be implied from the terms of this resolution. There is 
 
S44 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 the correspondence between the Secretary of State and the 
 Greek Agent in London, ah-cady made public, in which 
 similar wishes are expressed, and a continuance of the 
 correspondence apparently invited. I might add to this, 
 the unexampled burst of feeling which this cause has called 
 forth from all classes of society, and the notorious fact 
 of pecuniary contributions made throughout the country 
 for its aid and advancement. After all this, whoever can 
 see cause of danger to our pacific relations from the adop- 
 tion of this resolution, has a keener vision than I can 
 pretend to. Sir, there is no augmented danger ; there is 
 no danger. The question comes at last to this, whether, 
 on a subject of this sort, this House holds an opinion which 
 is worthy to be expressed ? 
 
 Even suppose, sir, an Agent or Commissioner were to 
 be immediately sent, — a measure which I myself believe 
 to be the proper one, — there is no breach of neutrality, 
 nor any just cause of offence. Such an agent, of course, 
 would not be accredited ; he would not be a public mi- 
 nister. The object would be inquiry and information ; 
 inquiry, which we have a right to make ; information, 
 which we are interested to possess. If a dismemberment 
 of the Turkish Empire be taking place, or has already 
 taken place ; if a new state be rising, or be already risen, 
 in the Mediterranean, who can doubt, that, without any 
 breach of neutrality, we may inform ourselves of these 
 events, for the government of our own concerns ? 
 
 The Greeks have declared the Turkish coasts in a state 
 of blockade ; may we not inform ourselves whether this 
 blockade be nominal or real ? And, of course, whether 
 it shall be regarded or disregarded ? The greater our 
 trade may happen to be with Smyrna, a consideration 
 which seems to have alarmed some gentlemen, the greater 
 is the reason, in my opinion, why we should seek to be 
 
ON THE GREEK REV^OLUTION. 345 
 
 accurately informed of those events which may affect its 
 safety. 
 
 If seems to me impossible, therefore, for any reasonable 
 man to imagine, that this resolution can expose us to the 
 resentment of the Sublime Porte. 
 
 As little reason is there for fearing its consequences 
 upon the conduct of the Allied Powers. They may, very 
 naturally, dislike our sentiments upon the subject of the 
 Greek Revolution ; but what those sentiments are, they 
 will much more explicitly learn in the President's message 
 than in this resolution. They might, indeed, prefer that 
 we should express no dissent upon the doctrines which 
 they have avowed, and the application which they have 
 made of those doctrines to the case of Greece. But I 
 trust we are not disposed to leave them in any doubt as to 
 our sentiments upon these important subjects. They have 
 expressed their opinions, and do not call that expression 
 of opinion an interference ; in which respect they are 
 right, as the expression of opinion, in such cases, is not 
 such an interference as would justify the Greeks in con- 
 sidering the powers as at war with them. For the same 
 reason, any expression which we may make, of different 
 principles and different sympathies, is no interference. 
 No one would call the President's message an interference ; 
 and yet it is much stronger, in that respect, than this reso- 
 lution. If either of them could be construed to be an 
 interference, no doubt it would be improper, at least it 
 would be so, according to my view of the subject ; for 
 the very thing which I have attempted to resist in the 
 course of these observations, is the right of foreign inter- 
 ference. But neither the message nor the resolution has 
 that character. There is not a power in Europe that can 
 suppose, that, in expressing our opinions on this occasion, 
 we are governed by any desire of aggrandizing ourselves. 
 
846 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 or of injuring others. We do no more than to maintain 
 those established principles, in which we have an interest 
 in common with other nations, and to resist the intrbduc- 
 tion of new principles and new rules, calculated to destroy 
 the relative independence of states, and particularly hostile 
 to the whole fabric of our own Government. 
 
 I close, then, sir, with repeating, that the object of this 
 resolution is, to avail ourselves of the interesting occasion 
 of the Greek revolution, to make our protest against the 
 doctrines of the Allied Powers ; both as they are laid down 
 in principle, and as they are applied in practice. 
 
 I think it rin-ht too, sir, not to be unseasonable in the 
 expression of our regard, and, as far as that goes, in a 
 ministration of our consolation, to a long-oppressed and 
 now struggling people. I am not of those who would, in 
 the hour of utmost peril, withhold such encouragement as 
 might be properly and lawfully given, and, when the crisis 
 should be past, overwhelm the rescued sufferer with kind- 
 ness and caresses. The Greeks address the civilized world 
 with a pathos not easy to be resisted. They invoke our 
 favor by more moving considerations than can well belong 
 to the condition of any other people. They stretch out 
 their arms to the Christian communities of the earth, be- 
 seeching them, by a generous recollection of their ances- 
 tors, by the consideration of their own desolated and 
 ruined cities and villages, by their wives and children, sold 
 into an accursed slavery, by their own blood, which they 
 seem willing to pour out like water, by the common faith, 
 and in the Name, which unites all Christians, that they 
 Avould extend to them at least some token of compas- 
 sionate regard. 
 
IV. 
 
 SPEECH ON THE TRIAL OF JOHN F. KNAPP, FOR 
 THE MURDER OF JOSEPH WHITE, OF SALEM, 
 MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 I AM little accustomed, gentlemen, to the part which I 
 am now attempting to perform. Hardly more than once 
 or twice has it happened to me to be concerned, on the 
 side of the Government, in any criminal prosecution what- 
 ever; and never, until the present occasion, in any case 
 affecting life. 
 
 But I very much regret that it should have been thought 
 necessary to suggest to you, that I am brought here to 
 " hurry you against the law, and beyond the evidence." 
 I hope I have too much regard for justice, and too much 
 respect for my own character, to attempt either; and 
 were I to make such attempt, I am sure, that in this court, 
 nothing can be carried against the law, and that gentle- 
 men, intelligent and just as you are, are not, by any 
 power, to be hurried beyond the evidence. Though I 
 could well have wished to shun this occasion, I have not 
 felt at liberty to withhold my professional assistance, when 
 it is supposed that I might be in some degree useful, in 
 investigating and discovering the truth, respecting this 
 most extraordinary murder. It has seemed to be a duty, 
 incumbent on me, as on every other citizen, to do my best, 
 and my utmost, to bring to light the perpetrators of this 
 
 347 
 
348 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 crime. Against the prisoner at the bar, as an individual, 
 I cannot have the slightest prejudice. I would not do 
 him the smallest injury or injustice. But I do not affect 
 to be indifferent to the discovery, and the punishment of 
 this deep guilt. I cheerfully share in the opprobrium, 
 how much soever it may be, which is cast on those who 
 feel and manifest an anxious concern that all who had a 
 part in planning, or a hand in executing, this deed of mid- 
 night assassination, may be brought to answer for their 
 enormous crime, at the bar of public justice. Gentlemen, 
 it is a most extraordinary case. In some respects, it has 
 hardly a precedent anywhere ; certainly none in our New 
 England history. This bloody drama exhibited no sud- 
 denly-excited, ungovernable rage. The actors in it were 
 not surprised by any lion-like temptation springing upon 
 their virtue, and overcoming it, before resistance could 
 begin. Nor did they do the deed to glut savage vengeance, 
 or satiate long settled and deadly hate. It was a cool, 
 calculating, money-making murder. It was all " hire and 
 salary, not revenge." It was the weighing of money 
 against life ; the counting out of so many pieces of silver, 
 against so many ounces of blood. 
 
 An aged man, without an enemy in the world, in his 
 own house, and in his own bed, is made the victim of a 
 butcherly murder, for mere pay. Truly, here is a new 
 lesson for painters and poets. Whoever shall hereafter 
 draw the portrait of murder, if he will show it as it has 
 been exhibited in an example, where such example was 
 last to have been looked for, in the very bosom of our 
 New England society, let him not give it the grim visage 
 of Moloch, the brow knitted by revenge, the face black 
 with settled hate, and the bloodshot eye emitting livid 
 fires of malice. Let him draw, rather, a decorous, smooth- 
 faced, bloodless demon ; a picture in repose, rather than in 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 349 
 
 action ; not so much an example of human nature, in its 
 depravity, and in its paroxysms of crime, as an infernal 
 nature, a fiend, in the ordinary display and development 
 of his character. 
 
 The deed was executed with a degree of self-possession 
 and steadiness, equal to the wickedness with which it was 
 planned. The circumstances, now clearly in evidence, 
 spread out the whole scene before us. Deep sleep had 
 fallen on the destined victim, and on all beneath his roof. 
 A healthful old man, to whom sleep was sweet, the first 
 sound slumbers of the night held him in their soft but 
 strong embrace. The assassin enters, throuirh the window 
 already prepared, into an unoccupied apartment. With 
 noiseless foot he paces the lonely hall, half lighted by the 
 moon ; he winds up the ascent of the stairs, and reaches 
 the door of the chamber. Of this, he moves the lock, by 
 soft and continued pressure, till it turns on its hinges 
 without noise ; and he enters, and beholds his victim be- 
 fore him. The room was uncommonly open to the admis- 
 sion of light. The face of the innocent sleeper was 
 turned from the murderer, and the beams of the moon, 
 resting on the gray locks of his aged temple, showed him 
 where to strike. The fatal blow is given ! and the victim 
 passes, without a struggle or a motion, from the repose of 
 sleep to the repose of death ! It is the assassin's purpose 
 to make sure Avork ; and he yet plies the dagger, though 
 it was obvious that life had been destroyed by the blow 
 of the bludgeon. He even raises the aged arm, that he 
 may not fail in his aim at the heart, and replaces it again 
 over the wounds of the poniard ! To finish the picture, 
 he explores the wrist for the pulse ! He feels for it, and 
 ascertains that it beats no longer ! It is accomplished ! 
 The deed is done ! He retreats, retraces his steps to the 
 window, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes. 
 
 30 
 
350 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 He has done the murder — no eye has seen him, no ear 
 has heard him ! The secret is his own, and it is safe I 
 
 Ah, gentleman, that was a dreadful mistake ! Such a 
 secret can be safe nowhere. The whole creation of God 
 has neither nook nor corner, Avhere the guilty can bestow 
 it, and say it is safe. Not to speak of that eye which 
 glances through all disguises, and beholds every thing, as 
 in the splendor of noon, — such secrets of guilt are never 
 safe from detection, even by men. True it is, generally 
 speaking, that " murder will out." True it is, that Pro- 
 vidence hath so ordained, and doth so govern things, that 
 those who break the great law of heaven, by shedding 
 man's blood, seldom succeed in avoiding discovery. Es- 
 pecially, in a case exciting so much attention as this, 
 discovery must come, and will come, sooner or later. A 
 thousand eyes turn at once to explore every man, every 
 thing, every circumstance, connected with the time and 
 place; a thousand ears catch every whisper; a thousand 
 excited minds intensely dwell on the scene, shedding all 
 their light, and ready to kindle the slightest circumstance 
 into a blaze of discovery. Meantime, the guilty soul 
 cannot keep its own secret. It is false to itself; or 
 rather it feels an irresistible impulse of conscience to be 
 true to itself. It labors under its guilty possession, and 
 knows not what to do with it. The human heart was 
 not made for the residence of such an inhabitant. It 
 finds itself preyed on by a torment, which it dares not 
 acknowledge to God nor man. A vulture is devouring it, 
 and it can ask no sympathy or assistance, either from 
 heaven or earth. The secret which the murderer 
 possesses soon comes to possess him ; and, like the evil 
 spirits of which we read, it overcomes him, and leads 
 him whithersoever it will. He feels it beating at his 
 heart, rising to his throat, and demanding disclosure. 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KXAPP. 351 
 
 He thinks the whole world sees it in his face, reads it in 
 his eyes, and almost hears its workings in the very silence 
 of his thoughts. It has become his master. It betriiys 
 his discretion, it breaks down his courage, it conquers his 
 prudence. When suspicions, from without, begin to em- 
 barrass him, and the net of circumstance to entangle him, 
 the fatal secret struggles with still greater violence to 
 burst forth. It must be confessed, it will he confessed ; 
 there is no refuge from confession but suicide, and suicide 
 is confession. y 
 
 Much has been said, on this occasion, of the excite- 
 ment which has existed, and still exists, and of the 
 extraordinary measures taken to discover and punish the 
 guilty. No doubt there has been, and is, much excite- 
 ment, and strange indeed were it, had it been otherwise. 
 Should not all the peaceable and well-disposed naturally 
 feel concerned, and naturally exert themselves to bring to 
 punishment the authors of this secret assassination ? Was 
 it a thing to be slept upon or forgotten ? Did you, gentle- 
 men, sleep quite as quietly in your beds after this murder 
 as before ? Was it not a case for rewards, for meetings, for 
 committees, for the united efforts of all the good, to hnd 
 out a band of murderous conspirators, of midnight ruf- 
 fians, and to bring them to the bar of justice and law ? 
 If this be excitement, is it an unnatural or an improper 
 excitement ? 
 
 It seems to me, gentlemen, that there are appearances 
 of another feeling, of a very different nature and character, 
 not very extensive I would hope, but still there is too much 
 evidence of its existence. Such is human nature, that 
 some pei'sons lose their abhorrence of crime, in their 
 admiration of its magnificent exhibitions. Ordinary vice 
 is reprobated by them, but extraordinary guilt, exquisite 
 wickedness, the high flights and poetry of crime, seize on 
 
352 SPEECHES OF DANIKL WEBSTER. 
 
 the imagination, and lead them to forget the depths of the 
 guilt, in admiration of the excellence of the performance, 
 or the unequalled atrocity of the purpose. There are those 
 in our day, who have made great use of this infirmity of 
 our nature, and by means of it done infinite injury to the 
 cause of good morals. They have aft'ected not only the 
 taste, but I fear also the principles, of the young, the 
 heedless, and the imaginative, by the exhibition of inte- 
 resting and beautiful monsters. They render depravity 
 attractive, sometimes by the polish of its manners, and 
 sometimes by its very extravagance, and study to show 
 off crime under all the advantages of cleverness and dex- 
 terity. Gentlemen, this is an extraordinary murder — but 
 it is still a murder. We are not to lose ourselves in wonder 
 at its origin, or in gazing on its cool and skilful execution. 
 We are to detect and to punish it ; and Avhile we proceed 
 Avith caution against the prisoner, and are to be sure that 
 v.e do not visit on his head the offences of others, we are 
 yet to consider that we are dealing with a case of most 
 atrocious crime, which has not the slightest circumstance 
 about it to soften its enormity. It is murder, deliberate, 
 concerted, malicious murder. 
 
 Although the interest in this case may have diminished 
 by the repeated investigation of the facts ; still, the addi- 
 tional labor which it imposes upon all concerned is not to 
 be regretted, if it should result in removing all doubts of 
 the guilt of the prisoner. 
 
 The learned counsel for the prisoner has said truly, that 
 it is your individual duty to judge the prisoner, — that it is 
 your individual duty to determine his guilt or innocence — 
 and that you are to weigh the testimony with candor and 
 fairness. But much at the same time has been said, which, 
 although it would seem to have no distinct bearing on the 
 trial, cannot be passed over without some notice. 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 353 
 
 A tone of complaint so peculiar has been indulged, as 
 would almost lead us to doubt whether the prisoner at the 
 bar, or the managers of this prosecution, are now on trial. 
 Great pains have been taken to complain of the manner 
 of the prosecution. We hear of getting up a case; of 
 setting in motion trains of machinery; of foul testimony; 
 of combinations to overwhelm the prisoner ; of private 
 prosecutors ; that the prisoner is hunted, persecuted, driven 
 to his trial ; that everybody is against him ; and various 
 other complaints, as if those who would bring to punish- 
 ment the authors of this murder were almost as bad as they 
 who committed it. 
 
 In the course of my whole life, I have never heard before, 
 so much said about the particular counsel who happened to 
 be employed ; as if it were extraordinary, that other counsel 
 than the usual officers of the Government should be assist- 
 ing in the conducting of a case on the part of the Govern- 
 ment. In one of the last capital trials in this county, that 
 of Jackman for "the Goodridge robbery," (so called,) I 
 remember that the learned head of the Suffolk Bar, Mr. 
 Prescott, came down in aid of the officers of the Govern- 
 ment. This was regarded as neither strange nor improper. 
 The counsel for the prisoner, in that case, contented them- 
 selves with answering his arguments, as far as they were 
 able, instead of carping at his presence. 
 
 Complaint is made that rewards were offered, in this case, 
 and temptations held out to obtain testimony. Are not 
 rewards always offered, when great and secret offences are 
 committed ? Rewards were offered in the case to which I 
 have alluded ; and every other means taken to discover the 
 offenders, that ingenuity, or the most persevering vigilance, 
 could suggest. The learned counsel have suffered their 
 zeal to lead them into a strain of complaint, at the manner 
 in which the perpetrators of this crime were detected, 
 
 30* 
 
354 SPEECHES OF DAXIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 almost indicating that they regard it as a positive injury, 
 to them, to have found out their guilt. Since no man wit- 
 nessed it, since they do not now confess it, attempts to 
 discover it are half esteemed as officious intermeddling, and 
 impertinent inquiry. 
 
 It is said, that here even a committee of vigilance was 
 appointed. This is a subject of reiterated remark. This 
 committee ai'e pointed at, as though they had been offi- 
 ciously intermeddling with the administration of justice. 
 They are said to have been "laboring for months" against 
 the prisoner. Gentlemen, what must we do in such a case ? 
 Are people to be dumb and still, through fear of overdoing ? 
 Is it come to this, that an effort cannot be made, a hand 
 cannot be lifted, to discover the guilty, without its being 
 SLiid, there is a combination to overwhelm innocence ? Has 
 the community lost nil moral sense ? Certainly, a com- 
 munity that would not be roused to action, upon an occa- 
 sion such as this was, a community which should not deny 
 sleep to their eyes, and slumber to their eyelids, till they 
 had exhausted all the means of discovery and detection, 
 must, indeed, be lost to all moral sense, and would scarcely 
 deserve protection from the laws. The learned counsel 
 have endeavored to persuade you, that there exists a pre- 
 judice against the persons accused of this murder. They 
 woukl huve you understand that it is not confined to this 
 vicinity alone, but that even the Legislature have caught 
 this spirit. That through the procurement of the gentle- 
 man, here styled private prosecutor, who is a member of 
 the Senate, a special session of this court was appointed 
 for the trial of these offenders. That the ordinary move- 
 ments of the wheels of justice were too sIoav for the pur- 
 poses devised. — But does not everybody see and know that 
 it was matter of absolute necessity to have a special session 
 of the court ? When ov how could the prisoners have been 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 355 
 
 tried without a special session ? In the ordinary arrange- 
 ment of the courts, but one week, in a year, is allotted for 
 the whole court to sit in this county. In the trial of all 
 capital offences a majority of the court, at least, are re- 
 quired to be present. In the trial of the present case 
 alone, three weeks have already been taken up. Without 
 such special session, then, three years would not have been 
 sufficient for the purpose. It is answer sufficient to all 
 complaints on this subject, to say, tha,t the law was drawn 
 by the late chief justice himself, to enable the court to 
 accomplish its duties ; and to afford the persons accused 
 an opportunity for trial without delay. 
 
 Again, it i,s said, that it was not thought of making 
 Francis Knapp, the prisoner at the bar, a principal till 
 after the death of Richard Crowninshield, Jun. ; that the 
 present indictment is an after-thought — that " testimony 
 was got up" for the occasion. It is not so. There is no 
 authority for this suggestion. The case of the Knapps 
 had not then been before the grand jury. The officers of 
 the Government did not know what the testimony would 
 be against them. They could not, therefore, have deter- 
 mined what course they should pursue. They intended to 
 arraign all as principals, who should appear to have been 
 principals ; and all as accessories, who should appear to 
 have been accessories. All this could be known only 
 when the evidence should be produced. 
 
 But the learned counsel for the defendant take a some- 
 w^hat loftier flight still. They are more concerned, they 
 assure us, for the law itself, than even for their client. 
 Your decision, in this case, they say, will stand as a pre- 
 cedent. Gentlemen, w^e hope it will. We hope it vill be 
 a precedent, both of candor and intelligence, of fairness 
 and of firmness ; a precedent of good sense and honest 
 purpose, pursuing their investigation discreetly, rejecting 
 
356 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 loose generalities, exploring all the circumstances, weigh- 
 ing each, in search of truth, and embracing and declaring 
 the truth, when found. 
 
 It is said, that " laws are made, not for the punishment 
 of the guilty, but for the protection of the innocent." 
 This is not quite accurate, perhaps, but if so, we hope they 
 will be so administered as to give that protection. But 
 who are the innocent, whom the law would protect ? 
 Gentlemen, Joseph White was innocent. They are inno- 
 cent who, having lived in the fear of God, through the 
 day, wish to sleep in his peace through the night, in their 
 own beds. The law is established, that those who live 
 quietly, may sleep quietly; that they who do no harm, 
 may feel none. The gentleman can think of none that 
 are innocent, except the prisoner at the bar, not yet con- 
 victed. Is a proved conspirator to murder, innocent ? 
 Are the Crowninshields and the Knapps, innocent ? What 
 is innocence ? How deep stained with blood, — how reck- 
 less in crime, — how deep in depravity, may it be, and yet 
 remain innocence ? The law is made, if we would speak 
 with entire accuracy, to protect the innocent, by punishing 
 the guilty. But there are those innocent, out of court as 
 well as in ; — innocent citizens not suspected of crime, as 
 well as innocent prisoners at the bar. 
 
 The criminal laAV is not founded in a principle of ven- 
 geance. It does not punish, that it may inflict suffering. 
 The humanity of the law feels and regrets every pain it 
 causes, every hour of restraint it imposes, and more deeply 
 still, every life it forfeits. But it uses evil, as the means 
 of preventing greater evil. It seeks to deter from crime, 
 by the example of punishment. This is its true, and only 
 true main object. It restrains the liberty of the few 
 offenders, that the many who do not offend may enjoy 
 their own liberty. It forfeits the life of the murderer, that 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 357 
 
 other murders may not be committed. The haw mio-ht 
 open the jails, and Lt once set free all persons accused of 
 offences, and it ought to do so, if it could be made certain 
 that no other offences would hereafter be committed. 
 Because it punishes, not to satisfy any desire to inflict 
 pain, but simply to prevent the repetition of crimes. 
 When the guilty, therefore, are not punished, the law has, 
 so far, failed of its purpose; the safety of the innocent is, 
 so far, endangered. Every unpunished murder takes 
 away something from the security of every man's life. 
 And whenever a jury, through whimsical and ill-founded 
 scruples, suffer the guilty to escape, they make themselves 
 answerable for the augmented danger of the innocent. 
 ( We wish nothing to be strained against this defendant. 
 Why, then, all this alarm ? Why all this complaint 
 against the manner in which the crime is discovered ? 
 The prisoner's counsel catch at supposed flaws of evidence, 
 or bad character of witnesses, without meeting the case. 
 Do they mean to deny the conspiracy? Do they mean to 
 deny that the two Crowninshiekls and the two Knapps 
 were conspirators ? Why do they rail against Palmer, , 
 while they do not disprove, and hardly dispute, the truth 
 of any one fact sworn to by him ? Instead of this, it is 
 made matter of sentimentality, that Palmer has been pre- 
 vailed upon to betray his bosom companions, and to violate 
 the sanctity of friendship : again, I ask, why do they not 
 meet the case ? If the fact is out, why not meet it ? Do 
 they mean to deny that Captain White is dead ? One should 
 have almost supposed even that, from some remarks that 
 have been made. Do they mean to deny the conspiracy? 
 Or, admitting a conspiracy, do they mean to deny only, 
 that Frank Knapp, the prisoner at the bar, was abetting 
 in the murder, being present, and so deny that he was a 
 principal ? If a conspiracy is proved, it bears closely 
 
358 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 upon every subsequent subject of inquiry. Why don't 
 they come to the fact ? Here the defence is wholly indis- 
 tinct. The counsel neither take the ground, nor abandon 
 it. They neither fly, nor light. They hover. But they 
 must come to a closer mode of contest. They must meet 
 the facts, and either deny or admit them. Had the 
 prisoner at the bar, then, a knowledge of this conspiracy 
 or not ? This is the question. Instead of laying out their 
 strength in complaining of the manner in which the deed 
 is discovered, — of the extraordinary pains taken to bring 
 the prisoner's guilt to light ; — would it not be better to 
 show there Avas no guilt ? Would it not be better to show 
 his innocence ? They say, and they complain, that the 
 community feel a great desire that he should be punished 
 for his crimes; — would it not be better to convince you 
 that he has committed no crime? 
 
 Gentlemen, let us now come to the case. Your first 
 inquiry, on the evidence, will be, — was Captain White mur- 
 dered in pursuance of a conspiracy, and was the defendant 
 one of this conspiracy ? If so, the second inquiry is, — was 
 he so connected with the murder itself as that he is liable 
 to be convicted as o. principal? The defendant is indicted 
 as a principal. If not guilty as such, you cannot convict 
 him. The indictment contains three distinct classes of 
 counts. In the first, he is charged as having done the 
 deed, with his own hand ; — in the second, as an aider and 
 abettor to Richard Crowninshield, Jr., who did the deed ; — 
 in the third, as an aider and abettor to some person 
 unknown. If you believe him guilty on either of these 
 counts, or in either of these ways, you must convict him. 
 
 It may be proper to say, as a preliminary remark, that 
 there are two extraordinary circumstances attending this 
 trial. One is, that Richard Crowninshield, Jr., the sup- 
 posed immediate perpetrator of the murder, since his arrest, 
 
ON THE TlilAL OP J. F. KNAPP. 359 
 
 has committed suicide. He has gone to answer before a 
 tribunal of perfect infallibility. The other is, that Joseph 
 Knapp, the supposed origin and planner of the murder, 
 having once made a full disclosure of the facts, under a 
 promise of indemnity, is, nevertheless, not now a witness. 
 Notwithstanding his disclosure, and his promise of in- 
 demnity, he now refuses to testify. He chooses to return 
 to his original state, and now stands answerable himself, 
 when the time shall come for his trial. These circum- 
 stances it is fit you should remember, in your investigation 
 of the case. 
 
 Your decision may affect more than the life of this de- 
 fendant. If he be not convicted as principal, no one can 
 be. Nor can any one be convicted of a participation in 
 the crime as accessory. The Knapps and George Crownin- 
 shield will be again on the community. This shows the 
 importance of the duty you have to perform ; — and to 
 remind you of the degree of care and wisdom necessary 
 to be exercised in its performance. But certainly these 
 considerations do not render the prisoner's guilt any 
 clearer, nor enhance the weight of the evidence against 
 him. No one desires you to regard consequences in that 
 light. No one wishes any thing to be strained, or too far 
 pressed against the prisoner. Still, it is fit you should see 
 the full importance of the duty devolved upon you. And 
 now, gentlemen, in examining this evidence, let us begin at 
 the beginning, and see first what we know independent of 
 the disputed testimony. This is a case of circumstantial 
 evidence. And these circumstances, we think, are full and 
 satisfactory. The case mainly depends upon them, and it 
 is common that ofi'ences of this kind must be proved in 
 this way. Midnight assassins take no witnesses. The 
 evidence of the facts relied on has been, somewhat sneer- 
 ingly, denominated by the learned counsel, ^'circumstantial 
 
360 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 stuff" but it is not such stiff as dreams are made of. 
 Why does he not rend this stuff'? Why does he not tear 
 it away, with the crush of his hand 1 He dismisses it a 
 little too summarily. It shall be my business to examine 
 this stuff and try its cohesion. 
 
 The letter from Palmer at Belfast, is that no more than 
 flimsy stuff'? 
 
 Tlie fabricated letters, from Knapp to the committee, 
 and Mr. White, are they nothing but stiff? 
 
 The circumstance, that the housekeeper was away at the 
 time the murder was committed, as it was agreed she 
 would be, is that, too, a useless piece of the same stuff? 
 
 The facts, that the key of the chamber-door was taken 
 out and secreted ; that the window was unbarred and 
 unbolted ; are these to be so slightly and so easily dis- 
 posed of? 
 
 It is necessary, gentlemen, now to settle, at the com- 
 mencement, the great question of a conspiracij. If there 
 was none, or the defendant was not a party, then there is 
 no evidence here to convict him. If there was a con- 
 spiracy, and he is proved to have been a party, then these 
 two facts have a strong bearing on others and all the great 
 points of inquiry. The defendant's counsel take no dis- 
 tinct ground, as I have already said, on this point, neither 
 to admit, nor to deny. They choose to confine themselves 
 to a hypothetical mode of speech. They say, supposing 
 there was a conspiracy, non sequitur, that the prisoner is 
 guilty, as p^'incijjaL Be it so. But still, if there was a 
 conspiracy, and if he was a conspirator, and helped to 
 plan the murder, this may shed much light on the evidence, 
 which goes to charge him with the execution of that plan. 
 
 We mean to make out the conspiracy ; and that the de- 
 fendant was a party to it; and then to draw all just 
 infei'ences from these facts. 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 361 
 
 Let me ask your attention, then, in the first place, to 
 those appearances, on the morning after the murder, which 
 have a tendency to show, that it was done in pursuance of 
 a preconcerted phm of operation. What are they ? A man 
 was found murdered in Ms bed.— No stranger had done the 
 
 deed — no one unacquainted with the house had done it. 
 
 It Avas apparent, that somebody from within had opened, 
 and somebody from without had entered. — There had been 
 there, obviously and certainly, concert and co-operation. 
 The inmates of the house were not alarmed when the mur- 
 der Avas perpetrated. The assassin had entered, without 
 any riot, or any violence. He had found the way prepared 
 before him. The house had been previously opened. The 
 Avindow was unbarred, from Avithin, and its fastening un- 
 screAved. There Avas a lock on the door of the chamber 
 in Avhich Mr. White slept, but the key Avas gone. It had 
 been taken aAvay, and secreted. The footsteps of the 
 murderer were Aasible, out doors, tending tOAvard the Avin- 
 doAv. The plank by Avhich he entered the AvindoAv still 
 remained. The road he pursued had been thus prepared 
 for him. The A'ictim was slain, and the murderer has es- 
 caped. Every thing indicated that somebody from ivithin 
 had co-operated Avith somebody from without. Every thing 
 proclaimed that some of the inmates, or somebody having 
 access to the house, had had a hand in the murder. Ou 
 the face of the circumstances, it was apparent, therefore, 
 that this was a premeditated, concerted, conspired murder. 
 Who then were the conspirators ? If not now found out, 
 we are still groping in the dark, and the Avhole tragedy is 
 still a mystery. 
 
 If the Knapps and the Crowninshields Avere not the con- 
 spirators in this murder, then there is a Avhole set of con- 
 spirators yet not discovered. Because, independent of the 
 testimony of Palmer and Leighton, independent of all dis- 
 
362 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 puted evidence, we know, from uncontroverted facts, that 
 this murder was, and must have heen, the result of concert 
 and co-operation, between tAvo or more. We know it was 
 not done, without plan and deliberation ; we see, that who- 
 ever entered the house, to strike the blow, was favored 
 and aided by som.e one, who had been previously in the 
 house, without suspicion, and who had prepared the way. 
 This is concert, this is co-operation, this is conspiracy. If 
 the Knapps and the Crown inshields, then, were not the 
 conspirators, who were ? Joseph Knapp had a motive to 
 desire the death of Mr. White, and tliat motive has been 
 
 shown. 
 
 He was connected by marriage in the family of Mr. 
 White. Hi^ wife was the daughter of Mrs. Beckford, 
 who was the only child of a sister of the deceased. The 
 deceased was more than eiglity years old, and he had no 
 children. His only heirs were nephews and nieces. He was 
 supposed to be possessed of a very large fortune, — which 
 Avould have descended, by laAv, to his several nephews 
 and nieces in equal shares, or, if there was a will, then 
 according to the Avill. But as Captain White had but two' 
 branches of heirs — the children of his brother Henry 
 White, and of Mrs. Beckford — according to the common 
 idea each of these branches would have shared one-half 
 of Mr. White's property. 
 
 This popular idea is not legally correct. But it is com- 
 mon, and very proba1)ly was entertained by the parties. 
 According to this, INIrs. Beckford, on Mr. White's death 
 without a will, would have been entitled to one-half of 
 Mr. White's ample fortune ; and Joseph Knapp had 
 married one of her three children. There was a will, 
 and this will gave the bulk of the property to others ; 
 and we leavu from Palmer that one part of the design was 
 to destroy the will before the murder was committed. 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 3^3 
 
 There had been a previous will, and that previous will was 
 known or believed to have been more favorable than the 
 other, to the Beckford family. So that by destroying t';e 
 last will, and destroying the life of the testator at the 
 same time, either the first and more favorable will would 
 be set up, or the deceased would have no will, which 
 would be, as was supposed, still more favorable. But the 
 conspirators not having succeeded in obtaining and de- 
 stroying the last will, though they accomplished the mur- 
 der, but the last will being found in existence and safe, 
 and that will bequeathing the mass of the property to 
 others, it seemed, at the time, impossible for Joseph 
 Knapp, as for any one else, indeed, but the principal 
 devisee, to have any motive which should lead to the 
 murder. The key which unlocks the whole mystery, is, 
 the knowledge of the intention of the conspirators to steal 
 the will. This is derived from Palmer, and it explains 
 all. It solves the whole marvel. It shows the motive 
 actuating those, against whom there is much evidence, but 
 who, Avithout the knowledge of this intention, wore not 
 seen to have had a motive. This intention is proved, as 1 
 have said, by Palmer; and it is so congruous Avith ali die 
 rest of the case, it agrees so well Avith all facts and cir- 
 cumstances, that no man could well withhold his belief, 
 though the facts were stated by a still less credible witness. 
 If one, desirous of opening a lock, turns over and tries 
 a bunch of keys till he finds one tiiat will opon it, he 
 naturally supposes he has found the key of that lock. 
 So in explaining circumstances of evidence, which are 
 apparently irreconcilable, or unaccountable, if a fact be 
 suggested, which at once accounts for all, and reconciles 
 aril, by Avhomsoever it may be stated, it is still diflicult not 
 to believe that such fact is the true fact belonging to the 
 case. In this respect. Palmer's testimony is singularly 
 
364 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 confirmed. If he were false, then his ingenuity could not 
 furnish us such clear exposition of strange appearing 
 circumstances. Some truth, not before known, can alone 
 do that. 
 
 When Ave look back, then, to the state of things im- 
 mediately on the discovery of the murder, we see that 
 suspicion would naturally turn at once, not to the heirs- 
 at-law, but to those principally benefited by the will. 
 They, and they alone, would be supposed or seem to have 
 a direct object for wishing Mr. White's life to be termi- 
 nated. And, strange as it may seem, we find counsel now 
 insisting, that if no apology, it is yet mitigation of the 
 atrocity of the Knapps' conduct in attempting to charge 
 this foul murder on Mr. White, the nephew and principal 
 devisee, that public suspicion was already so directed ! 
 As if assassination of character were excusable, in pro- 
 portion as circumstances may render it easy. Their en- 
 deavors, when they knew they were suspected themselves, 
 to fix the charge on others, by foul means and by false- 
 hood, are fair and strong proof of their own guilt. But 
 more of that hereafter. 
 
 The counsel say that they might safely admit, that 
 Richard Crowninshield, Jr. was the perpetrator of this 
 murder. 
 
 But how could they safely admit that ? If that were 
 admitted, every thing else Avould follow. For why should 
 Biclnird Crowninshield, Jr. kill Mr. White ? He was 
 not his heir, nor his devisee ; nor was he his enemy. 
 What could be his motive? If Richard Crowninshield, 
 Jr. killed Mr. White, he did it, at some one's procurement 
 who himself had a motive. And who, having any motive, 
 is shown to have had any intercourse with Richard Crown- 
 inshield, Jr. but Joseph Knapp, and this, principally 
 through the agency of the prisoner at the bar ? It is the 
 
ox THE TRIAL OF .1. F. KXAPP. 365 
 
 infirmit}'-, the distressing difficulty of tlie prisoner's case, 
 that his counsel cannot and dare not admit what they yet 
 cannot disprove and what all must believe. He who 
 believes, on this evidence, that Richard Crowninshicld, Jr. 
 was the immediate murderer, cannot doubt that both the 
 Knapps w^ere conspirators in that murder. The counsel, 
 therefore, are wrong, I think, in saying they might safely 
 admit this. The admission of so important, and so con- 
 nected a fact, would render it impossible to contend 
 further against the proof of the entire conspiracy, as we 
 state it. 
 
 What, then, was this conspiracy ? J. J. Ivnapp, Jr., 
 desirous of destroying the Avill, and of taking the life of 
 the deceased, hired a ruffian, who, with the aid of other 
 ruffians, were to enter the house, and murder him, in his 
 own bed. 
 
 As far back as January, this conspiracy began, Endi- 
 cott testifies to a conversation with J, J, Knapp, at that 
 time, in which Knapp told him that Captain White had 
 made a will, and given the principal part of his property 
 to Stephen White, When asked how he knew, ho said, 
 "Black and white don't lie." When asked, if the will 
 was not locked up, he said, " There is such a thing as two 
 keys to the same lock," And speaking of the then late 
 illness of Captain White, he said, that Stephen White 
 would not have been sent for, if lie had been there. 
 
 Hence he appears, that as early as January, Knapp had 
 a knowledge of the will, and that he iiad iiccess to it, by 
 means of false keys. This knowledge of the will, and an 
 intent to destroy it, appear also from Palmer's testimony, 
 — a fact disclosed to him by the other conspirators. He 
 says, that he was informed of this by the Cro\vnin>hields 
 on the 2d of April. But, then, it is said that rainier is 
 not to be credited ; that by his own confession ho ia a 
 
366 SPEECHES OF DANIEL -WEBSTER. 
 
 felon ; that he has been in the State prison in Maine ; 
 and, above all, that he was an inmate and associate with 
 these conspirators themselves. Let us admit these facts. 
 Let us admit him to be as bad as they would represent 
 him to be ; still, in law, he is a competent witness. How 
 else are the secret designs of the wicked to be proved, 
 but by their wicked companions, to whom they have dis- 
 closed them ? The Government does not select its wit- 
 nesses. The conspirators themselves have chosen Palmer. 
 He was the confidant of the prisoners. The fact, how- 
 ever, does not depend on his testimony alone. It is cor- 
 roborated by other proof; and, taken in conneetion with 
 the other circumstances, it has strong probability. In 
 regard to the testimony of Palmer, generally, — it may be 
 said, that it is less contradicted, in all parts of it, either 
 by himself or others, than that of any other material 
 witness, and that every thing he has told, has been cor- 
 roborated by other evidence, so far as it was susceptible 
 of confirmation. An attempt has been made to impair 
 his testimony, as to his being at the half-way house on the 
 night of the murder ; — you have seen with what success. 
 Mr. Babb is called to contradict him : you have seen how 
 little he knows, and even that not certainly ; for he, him- 
 self, is proved to have been in error, by supposing him to 
 have been at the half-way house on the evening of the 
 9th of April. At that time, Palmer is proved to have 
 been at Dustin's in Danvers. If, then, Palmer, bad as he 
 is, has disclosed the secrets of the conspiracy, and has 
 told the truth — there is no reason why it should not be 
 believed. Truth is truth, come whence it may. 
 
 The facts show, that this murder had been long in agita- 
 tion, that it was not a new proposition, on the 2d of 
 April ; that it had been contemplated for five or six 
 weeks before. R. Crowninshield was at Wenham in the 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 367 
 
 latter part of March, as testified by Starrett. F. Knapp 
 was at Danvers, in the latter part of February, as testified 
 by Allen. R. Crowninshield inquired whether Captain 
 Knapp was about home, when at AVenham. The proba- 
 bility is, that they would open the case to Palmer, as a 
 new project. There are other circumstances that show it 
 to have been some weeks in agitation. Palmer's testi- 
 mony as to the transactions on the 2d of April, is cor- 
 roborated hj Allen, and by Osborn's books. He says 
 that F. Knapp came there in the afternoon, and again in 
 the evening. So the book shows. He says that Captain 
 White had gone out to his farm on that day. So others 
 prove. How could this fact, or these facts, have been 
 known to Palmer, unless F. Knapp had brouglit the 
 knowledge ? and was it not the special object of this 
 visit, to give information of this fact, that they might 
 meet him and execute their purpose on his return from 
 his farm ? The letter of Palmer, written at Belfast, has 
 intrinsic evidence of genuineness. It was mailed at Bel- 
 fast, May 13th. It states facts that he could not have 
 known, unless his testimony be true. This letter was 
 not an after-thought ; it is a genuine narrative. In fact, 
 it says, " I know the business your brother Frank was 
 transacting on the 2d of April:" how could he have 
 possibly knoAvn this, unless he had been there ? The 
 "11000, that was to be paid;" where could he have ob- 
 tained this knowledge ? The testimony of Endicott, of 
 Palmer, and these facts, arc to be taken together ; and 
 they, most clearly, show that the death of Captain "White 
 must have been caused by somebodij inierested in putting 
 an end to his life. 
 
 As to the testimony of Leighton. As far as manner of 
 testifying goes, he is a bad witness : but it does not follow 
 from this that he is not to be believed. There are some 
 
368 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 strange thin<2;s about him. It is strancre, that he should 
 make up a story against Captain Knapp, the person with 
 whom he lived ; — that he never voluntarily told any thing : 
 all that he has said is screAved out of him. The story 
 could not have been invented by him ; his character for 
 truth is unimpeached ; and he intimated to another wit- 
 ness, soon after the murder happened, that he knew some- 
 thing he should not tell. There is not the least contra- 
 diction in his testimony, though he gives a poor account 
 of withholding it. He says that he was extremely 
 bothered by those who questioned him. In the main stor}^ 
 that he relates, he is universally consistent with himself: 
 some things are for him, and some against him. Exa- 
 mine the intrinsic probability of what he says. See if 
 some allowance is not to be made for him, on account of 
 his ignorance, with things of this kind. It is said to be 
 extraordinary, that he should have heard just so much of 
 the conversation and no more ; that he should have heard 
 just what was necessary to be proved, and nothing else. 
 Admit that this is extraordinary ; still, this does not prove 
 it not true. It is extraordinary that you twelve gentle- 
 men should be called upon, out of all the men in the 
 county, to decide this case : no one could have foretold 
 this, three weeks since. It is extraordinary, that the 
 first clew to this conspiracy should have been derived 
 from information given by the father of the prisoner at 
 the bar. And in every case that comes to trial, there are 
 many things extraordinary. The murder itself in this 
 case is an extraordinary one ; but still we do not doubt its 
 reality. 
 
 It is argued, that this conversation between Joseph and 
 Frank, could not have been, as Leighton has testified, be- 
 cause they had been together for several hours before, — 
 this subject must have been uppermost in their minds, — 
 
« 
 
 ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 369 
 
 whereas this appears to have been the commencement of 
 their conversation upon it. Now, this depends altogether 
 upon the tone and manner of the expression ; upon the 
 particular word in the sentence, which was emphatically 
 spoken. If he had said, "When did you see Dick, 
 Frank ?" — this would not seem to be the beeinnin^ of 
 the conversation. AVith what emphasis it was uttered, it 
 is not possible to learn ; and therefore nothing can be 
 made of this argument. If this boy's testimony stood 
 alone, it should be received with caution. And the 
 same may be said of the testimony of Palmer. But 
 they do not stand alone. They furnish a clew to nume- 
 rous other circumstances, which, when known, react, in 
 corroborating what would have been received with caution, 
 until -thus corroborated. How could Leighton have made 
 up this conversation ? " When did you see Dick ?" " I 
 saw him this morning." "When is he going to kill the 
 old man ?" " I don't know." " Tell him if he don't do 
 it soon, I won't pay him." Here is a vast amount, in 
 few words. Had he wit enough to invent this ? There 
 is nothing so powerful as truth ; and often nothing so 
 strange. It is not even suggested that the story was 
 made for him. There is nothing so extraordinary in the 
 whole matter, as it would have been for this country boy 
 to have invented this story. 
 
 The acts of the parties themselves furnish strong pre- 
 sumption of their guilt. What was done on the receipt of 
 the letter from Maine ? This letter was signed by Charles 
 Grant, Jr., a person not known to either of the Ivnai)ps,— 
 nor was it known to them that any other person, l)esido3 
 the Crowninshields, knew of the conspiracy. This letter, 
 by the accidental omission of the word jr., fell into tho 
 bands of the father, when intended for the son. Tho 
 father carried it to Wenham, where both the sons were. 
 
870 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 They both read it. Fix your eye steadily on this part of 
 the circumstantial stuff, which is in the case ; and see 
 what can be made of it. This was shown to the two bro- 
 thers on Saturday, 15th of May. They, neither of them, 
 knew Pahner. And if they had known hira, they could 
 not have known him to have been the writer of this letter. 
 Xt Avas mysterious to them, how any one, at Belfast, 
 could have had knoMdedge of this afi'air. Their conscious 
 guilt prevented due circumspection. They did not see the 
 bearing of its publication. They advised their father to 
 carry it to the committee of vigilance, and it was so car- 
 ried. On Sunday following, Joseph began to think there 
 might be something in it. Perhaps, in the mean time, he 
 had seen one of the Crowninshields. He was apprehensi\e 
 that they might be suspected ; he was anxious to turn 
 attention from their family. What course did he adopt to 
 effect this ? He addressed one letter, with a false name, 
 to Mr. White, and another to the committee ; and to com- 
 plete the climax of his folly, he signed the letter addressed 
 to the committee, " Grant,'' — the same name as that 
 signed to the letter they then had from Belfast, addressed 
 to Knapp. It was in the knowledge of the committee, 
 that no person but the Knapps had seen this letter from 
 Belfast ; and that no other person knew its signature. It 
 therefore must have been irresistibly plain, to them, that 
 one of the Knapps must have been the writer of the letter 
 they had received, charging the murder on Mr. White. 
 Add to this the fact of its having been dated at Lynn, 
 and mailed at Salem, four days after it was dated, and 
 who could doubt respecting it? Have you ever read, or 
 known, of folly equal to this ? Can you conceive of crime 
 more odious and abominable ? Merely to explain the 
 apparent mysteries of the letter from Palmer, they excite 
 the basest suspicions of a man, who, if they were innocent. 
 
 1 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 371 
 
 they had no reason to helieve guilty ; and wno, if they 
 •were guilty, they most certainly knew to be innocent. 
 Could they have adopted a more direct method of exposing 
 their own infamy? The letter to the committee has 
 intrinsic marks of a knowledge of this transaction. It 
 tells of the time, and the manner in which the murder was 
 committed. Every line speaks the writer's condemnation. 
 In attempting to divert attention from his family, and to 
 charge the guilt upon anothei', he indelibly fixes it upon 
 himself. 
 
 Joseph Knapp requested Allen to put these letters into 
 the post-office, because, said he, " I wish to nip this silly 
 affair in the bud." If this were not the order of an over- 
 ruling Providence, I should say that it was the silliest 
 piece of folly that was ever practised. Mark the destiny 
 of crime. It is ever obliged to resort to such subterfuges ; 
 it trembles in the broad light ; it betrays itself, in seeking 
 concealment. lie alone walks safely, who walks uprightly. 
 Who, for a moment, can read these letters and doubt of 
 J. Knapp's guilt ? The constitution of nature is made to 
 inform against him. There is no corner dark enoua-h to 
 conceal him. There is no turnpike broad enough, or 
 smooth enough, for a man so guilty to walk in without 
 stumbling. Every step proclaims his secret to every pas- 
 senger. His own acts come out, to fix his guilt. In 
 attempting to charge another with his own crime, he 
 writes his oion confession. To do away the effect of 
 Palmer's letter, signed Grant, he writes his own letter 
 and affixes to it the name of Grant. He writes in a dis- 
 guised hand ; but how could it happen, that the same 
 Grant should be in Salem, that was at Belfast? This has 
 brought the whole thing out. Evidently he did it, because 
 he has adopted the same style. Evidently he did it, 
 because he speaks of the price of blood, and of other cir- 
 
872 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 cumstances connected with the murder, that no one but a 
 conspirator could have known. 
 
 Pahner sajs he made a visit to the Crowninshields, on 
 the 9th of April. George then asked him whether he had 
 heard of the murder. Richard inquired whether he had 
 heard the music at Salem. They said that they were sus- 
 pected, that a committee had been appointed to search 
 houses ; and that they had melted up the dagger, the day 
 after the murder, because it would be a suspicious circum- 
 stance to have found it in their possession. Now, this 
 committee was not appointed, in fact, until Friday evening. 
 But this proves nothing against Palmer: it does not prove 
 that George did not tell him so; it only proves that he 
 gave a false reason, for a fact. They had heard that they 
 were suspected — how could they have heard this, unless it 
 were from the whisperings of their own consciences? 
 Surely this rumor was not then public. 
 
 About the 27th of April, another attempt is made by 
 the Knapps to give a direction to public suspicion. They 
 reported themselves to have been robbed, in passing from 
 Salem to Wenham, near Wenham Pond. They came to 
 Salem, and stated the particulars of the adventure: they 
 described persons, — their dress, size, and appearance, ivho 
 had been suspected of the murder. They would have it 
 understood, that the community was infested with a band 
 of ruffians, and that they, themselves, were the particular 
 objects of their vengeance. Now, this turns out to be all 
 fictitious, — all false. Can you conceive of any thing more 
 enormous, any wickedness greater, than the circulation of 
 such reports ? — than the allegation of crimes, if committed, 
 capital ? If no such thing — then it reacts, with double 
 force, upon themselves, and goes very far to sliow their 
 guilt. How did they conduct on this occasion ? did they 
 make hue and cry ? Did they give information that they 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 373 
 
 had been assaulted, that night, at Wenham? No such 
 thing. They rested quietly on that night ; they waited to 
 be called on for the particulars of their adventure ; they 
 made no attempt to arrest the offenders. This was not 
 their object. They were content to fill the thousand 
 mouths of rumor — to spread abroad false reports — to 
 divert the attention of the public from themselves; for 
 they thought every man suspected them, because they 
 knew they ought to be suspected. 
 
 The manner in which the compensation for this murder 
 was paid, is a circumstance worthy of consideration. By 
 examining the facts and dates, it will satisfactorily appear, 
 that Joseph Knapp paid a sum of money to Richard 
 Crowninshield in five-franc pieces, on the 24th of April. 
 On the 21st of April, Joseph Knapp received five hundred 
 five-franc pieces, as the proceeds of an adventure at sea. 
 The remainder of this species of currency that came home 
 in the vessel, was deposited in a bank at Salem. On 
 Saturday, 24th of April, Frank and Richard rode to 
 Wenham. They were there with Joseph an hour or more : 
 appeared to be negotiating private business. Richard con- 
 tinued in the chaise : Joseph came to the chaise and con- 
 versed with him. These facts are proved by Hart and 
 Leighton, and by Osborn's books. On Saturday evening, 
 about this time, Richard Ci'owninshicld is proved to have 
 been at Wenham, with another person whose appearance 
 corresponds with Frank, by Lummus. Can any one doubt 
 this being the same evening ? What had Richard Crownin- 
 shield to do at Wenham, with Joseph, unless it were this 
 business ? He was there before the murder ; he was there 
 after the murder; he was there clandestinely, unwilling to 
 be seen. If it w^ere not upon this business, let it be told 
 what it was for. Joseph Knapp could explain it; Frank 
 
374 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 Knapp might explain it. But they don't explain it ; and 
 the inference is against thein. 
 
 Immediately after this, Richard passes five-franc pieces ; 
 on the same evening, one to Lummus, five to Palmer ; and 
 near this time, George passes three or four in Salem, Here 
 are nine of these pieces passed by them in four days ; this 
 is extraordinary. It is an unusual currency : in ordinary 
 business, few men would pass nine such pieces in the course 
 of a year. If they were not received in this way, why not 
 explain how they came by them ? Money was not so flush 
 in their pockets, that they could not tell whence it came, 
 if it honestly came there. It is extremely important to 
 them to explain whence this money came ; and they would 
 do it if they could. If, then, the price of blood was paid 
 at this time, in the presence and with the knowledge of 
 this defendant, does not this prove him to have been con- 
 nected with this conspiracy ? 
 
 Observe, also, the eftect on the mind of Richard, of 
 Palmer's being arrested, and committed to prison ; the 
 various efforts he makes to discover the fact ; the lowering, 
 through the crevices of the rock, the pencil and paper for 
 him to write upon ; the sending two lines of poetry, Avith 
 the request that he would return the corresponding lines ; 
 the shrill and peculiar whistle — the inimitable exclamations 
 of ''Palmer! Palmer! Palmer!"— a\\ these things prove 
 how great was his alarm ; they corroborate Palmer's story, 
 and tend to establish the conspiracy. 
 
 Joseph Knapp had a part to act in this matter ; he must 
 have opened the window, and secreted the key ; he had 
 free access to every part of the house ; he was accustomed 
 to visit there ; he went in and out at his pleasure ; he 
 could do this without being suspected. He is proved to 
 have been there the Saturday preceding. 
 
 If nil these things, taken in connection, do not prove 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 375 
 
 that Captain White was murdered in pursuance of a con- 
 spiracy — then the case is at an end. 
 
 Savary's testimony is wholly unexpected. He was called 
 for a diiferent purpose. When asked who the person was, 
 that he saw come out of Captain White's yard between three 
 and four o'clock in the morning, — he answered, Frank 
 Knapi). I am not clear this is not true. There may be 
 many circumstances of importance connected with this, 
 though we believe the murder to have been committed 
 between ten and eleven o'clock. The letter to Dr. Barstow 
 states it to have been done about eleven o'clock — it states 
 it to have been done ^vith a bloiv on tlie head, from a 
 weapon loaded with lead. Here is too great a correspond- 
 ence with the reality, not to have some meaning to it. Dr. 
 Peirson was always of the opinion that the two classes of 
 wounds were made with different instruments, and by dif- 
 ferent hands. It is possible that one class was inflicted 
 at one time, and the other at another. It is possible that 
 on the last visit, the pulse might not have entirely ceased 
 to beat ; and then the finishing stroke was given. It is 
 said, when the body was discovered, some of the wounds 
 weeped, while the others did not. They may have been in- 
 flicted from mere wantonness. It was known that Captain 
 White was accustomed to keep specie by him in his chamber ; 
 this perhaps may explain the last visit. It is" proved, that 
 this defendant was in the habit of retiring to bed, and 
 leaving it afterwards, without the knowledge of his family ; 
 perhaps he did so on this occasion. We see no reason to 
 doubt the fact ; and it does not shake our belief that the 
 murder was committed early in the night. 
 
 What are the probabilities as to the time of the murder? 
 Mr. White was an aged man ; — he usually retired to bed 
 at about half-past nine. He slept soundest, in the early 
 part of the night ; usually awoke in the middle and latter 
 
376 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER, 
 
 part ; and his habits Avere perfectly well known. Wlicn 
 would persons, with a knoAvledge of these facts, be most 
 likely to approach him ? Most certainly, in the first hour 
 of his sleep. This Avould be the safest time. If seen then, 
 going to or from the house, the appearance would be least 
 suspicious. The earlier hour would then have been most 
 probably selected. 
 
 Gentlemen, I shall dwell no longer on the evidence which 
 tends to prove that there was a conspiracy, and that the 
 prisoner was a conspirator. All the circumstances concur 
 to make out this point. Not only Palmer swears to it, in 
 effect, and Leighton, but Allen mainly supports Palmer, 
 and Osborn's books lend confirmation, so far as possible 
 from such a source. Palmer is contradicted in nothing, 
 either by any other witness, or any proved circumstance 
 or occurrence. Whatever could be expected to support 
 him, does support him. All the evidence clearly manifests, 
 I think, that there was a conspiracy ; that it originated 
 with J. Knapp ; that defendant became a party to it, and 
 was one of its conductors, from first to last. One of the 
 most powerful circumstances, is Palmer's letter from Bel- 
 fast. The amount of this was, a direct charge on the 
 Knapps, of the authorship of this murder. How did they 
 treat this charge ? like honest men, or like guilty men ? 
 We have seen how it was treated. J. Knapp fabricated 
 letters, charging another person, and caused them to be 
 put into the post-office. 
 
 I shall now proceed on the supposition, that it is proved 
 that there was a conspiracy to murder Mr. White, and 
 that the prisoner was party to it. 
 
 The second, and the material inquiry is, was the prisoner 
 present at the murder , aiding and abetting therein? 
 
 This leads to the legal question in the case, what does 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KXAPP, 377 
 
 the ];iw mean, wlien it says, to charge him as a principal, 
 " he must be present aiding and abetting in the murder" ? 
 
 In the language of the late chief-justice, "it is not 
 required that the abettor shall be actually upon the spot 
 ■when the murder is committed, or even in sight of the 
 more immediate perpetrator of the victim, to make him a 
 principal. If he be at a distance, co-operating in the act, 
 by watching to prevent relief, or to give an alarm, or to 
 assist his confederate in escape, having hiowledge of the 
 purpose and object of the assassin, — this in the eye of the 
 law is being present, aiding and abetting, so as to make 
 him a principal in the murder." 
 
 "If he be at a distance co-operating." This is not a 
 distance to be measured by feet or rods ; if the intent to 
 lend aid combine with a knowledge that the murder is to 
 be committed, and the person so intending be so situate 
 that he can by any possibility lend this aid, in any man- 
 ner, then he is present in legal contemplation. He need 
 not lend any actual aid : to be ready to assist is assisting. 
 
 There are two sorts of murder ; the distinction between 
 them it is of essential importance to bear in mind. 
 1. Murder in an affray, or upon sudden and unexpected 
 provocation ; 2. Murder secretly, with a deliberate, pre- 
 determinate intention to commit murder. Under the first 
 class, the question usually is whether the offence be mur- 
 der or manslaughter, in the person who commits the deed. 
 Under the second class, it is often a question whether 
 others than he who actually did the deed, were present 
 aiding and assisting thereto. Offences of this kind ordi- 
 narily happen when there is nobody present except those 
 who go on the same design. If a riot should happen in 
 the court-house, and one should kill another — this may be 
 murder or it may not, according to the intention with 
 
 which it was done, which is always matter of fact to be 
 
 32* 
 
378 SPEECHES OF DA^'IEL WEBSTER. 
 
 collected from the circumstances at the time. But in 
 secret murders, premeditated and determined on, there 
 can be no doubt of the murderous intention ; there can be 
 no doubt, if a person be present, knowing a murder is to 
 be done, of his concurring in the act. His being there is 
 a proof of his intent to aid and abet ; else whj is he 
 there? . 
 
 It has been contended that proof must be given that the 
 person accused did actually afford aid, did lend a hand in 
 the murder itself; and without this proof, although he may 
 be near by, he may be presumed to be there for an inno- 
 cent purpose ; he may have crept silently there to hear 
 the news, or from mere curiosity to see what was going 
 on. Preposterous! — absurd! Such an idea shocks all 
 common sense. A man is found to be a conspirator to do 
 a murder ; he has planned it ; he has assisted in arranging 
 the time, the place, and the means ; and he is found in the 
 place, and at the time, and yet it is suggested that he 
 might have been there, not for co-operation and concur- 
 rence, but from curiosity ! Such an argument deserves no 
 answer. It would be difficult to give it one, in decorous 
 terms. Is it not to be taken for granted that a man seeks 
 to accomplish his own purposes ? When he has planned a 
 murder, and is present at its execution, is he there to for- 
 ward, or to thwart, his own design? Is he there to assist, 
 or there to prevent? But "curiosity!" He may be 
 there from mere "curiosity!" Curiosity to witness the 
 success of the execution of his own plan of murder ! The 
 very walls of a court-house ought not to stand — the 
 plough-share should run through the ground it stands on — 
 where such an argument could find toleration. 
 
 It is not necessary that the abettor should actually lend 
 a hand — that he should take a part in the act itself; if he 
 be present, ready to assist — that is assisting. Some of the 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J, F. KNAPP. 379 
 
 doctrines advanced would acquit tlie defendant though he 
 had gone to the bed-chamber of the deceased — thouo-h he 
 had been standing bj Avhen the assassin gave the blow. 
 This is the argument we have heard to-daj. [The court 
 here said they did not so understand the argument of the 
 counsel for defendant. Mr. Dexter said, " the intent and 
 power alone must co-operate." Mr. Webster continued :] 
 No doubt the law is that being ready to assist is assisting, 
 if he has the power to assist, in case of need. And it is 
 so stated by Foster, who is a high authority. " If A. hap- 
 peneth to be present at a murder, for instance, and taketh 
 no part in it, nor endeavoreth to prevent it, nor appre- 
 hendeth the murderer, nor levyeth hue and cry after him, 
 this strange behavior of his, though highly criminal, will 
 not of itself render him either principal or accessory." 
 " But if a fact amounting to murder should be committed, 
 in prosecution of some unlawful purpose, though it were 
 hut a bare trespass, to which A., in the case last stated, 
 had consented, and he had gone in order to give assistance, 
 if need were, for carrying it into execution — this would 
 have amounted to murder in him, and in every person 
 present and joining with him." "If the fact was com- 
 mitted in prosecution of the original purpose, which was 
 unlatvful, the whole party will be involved in the guilt of 
 him who gave the blow. For, in combinations of this 
 kind, the mortal stroke, though given by one of the party, 
 is considered, in the eye of the law, and of sound reason 
 too, as given by every individual present and abetting. 
 The person actually giving the stroke is no more than the 
 hand or instrument by which the otlfers strike." The 
 author, in speaking of being present, means actual pre- 
 sence ; not actual in oj^position to constructive, for the 
 law knows no such distinction. There is but one presence, 
 and this is the situation from which aid, or supposed aid, 
 
OvSO SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 may be rendered. The law does not say where he is to 
 go, or how near he is to go, but somewhere where he may 
 give assistance, or where the perpetrator may suppose that 
 he may be assisted by him. Suppose that he is acquainted 
 with the design of the murderer, and has a knowledge of 
 the time when it is to be carried into effect, and goes out 
 ■with a view to render assistance, if need be : why, then, 
 even though the murderer does not know of this, the per- 
 son so going out will be an abettor in the murder. It is 
 contended that the prisoner at the bar could not be a prin- 
 cipal, he being in Brown Street; because he could not 
 there render assistance. And you are called upon to 
 determine this case according as you may be of opinion 
 whether Brown Street was, or was not, a suitable, conve- 
 nient, well-chosen place to aid in this murder. This is 
 not the true question. The inquiry is, not whether you 
 ■would have selected this place in preference to all others, 
 or wdiether you would have selected it at all ; if they 
 chose it, why should we doubt about it? IIoav do we 
 know the use they intended to make of it, or the kind of 
 aid that he was to afford by being there? The question 
 for you to consider is, did the defendant go into BroAvn 
 Street in aid of this murder? Did he go there by agree- 
 ment, by appointment, with the perpetrator ? If so, 
 every thing else follows. The main thing — indeed, the 
 only thing — is to inquire whether he was in Brown Street 
 by appointment with Richard Crowninshield ; it might be 
 to keep general watch ; to observe the lights, and advise 
 as to time of access ; to meet thp prisoner on his return ; 
 to advise him as tO his escape ; to examine his c lothes ; to 
 see if any marks of blood ; to furnish exchange of clothes, 
 or new disguise, if necessary; to tell him through what 
 streets he could safely retreat, or whether he could deposit 
 the club in the place designed: — or it might be without 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNapp. 381 
 
 any distinct object, but merely to afford that encourage- 
 ment which would be afforded by Richard Crowninshield's 
 consciousness that he was near. It is of no consequence 
 whether, in your opinion, the place was well chosen or not, 
 to afford aid ; — if it was so chosen, if it was by appoint- 
 ment that he was there, that is enough. Suppose Richard 
 Crowninshield, when applied to to commit the murder, had 
 said, "I won't do it unless there can be some one near by 
 to favor my escape. I won't go unless you will stay in 
 Brown Street." Upon the gentleman's argument, he 
 would not be an aider and abettor in the murder, because 
 the place was not well chosen ; though it is apparent that 
 the being in the place chosen was a condition without 
 which the murder would have never happened. 
 
 You are to consider the defendant as one in the league, 
 in the combination to commit murder. If he was there by 
 appointment with the perpetrator, he is an abettor. The 
 concurrence of the perpetrator in his being there, is proved 
 by the previous evidence of the conspiracy. If Richard 
 Crowninshield, for any purpose whatsoever, made it a con- 
 dition of the agreement, that Frank Ivnapp should stand 
 as hacker, then Frank Knapp was an aider and abettor : 
 no matter what the aid was, of what sort it was, or degree 
 — be it never so little. Even if it were to judge of the 
 hour, when it was best to go, or to see when the lights 
 were extinguished, or to give an alarm if any one ap- 
 proached. Who better calculated to judge of these things 
 than the murderer himself? and if he so determined them, 
 that is sufficient. 
 
 Now as to the facts. Frank Knapp knew that the murder 
 was that night to be committed ; he was one of the con- 
 spirators, he knew the object, he knew the time. He had 
 that day been to Wenham to see Joseph, and probably to 
 Danvers to see Richard Crowninshield, for he kept his 
 
o 
 
 882 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 o 
 
 motions secret ; he had that day hired a horse and chaise 
 of Osborn, and attempted to conceal the purpose for Avhich 
 it was used, — he had intentionally left the place and the 
 p7-iee blank on Osborn's books. He went to Wenham by 
 the way of Danvers : he had been told the week before, to 
 hasten Dick ; he had seen the Crowninshields several times 
 within a few days ; he had a saddle-horse the Saturday 
 night before ; he had seen Mrs. Beckford at Wenham, and 
 knew she would not return that night. She had not been 
 away before for six weeks, and probably would not soon be 
 again. He had just come from there. Every day, for the 
 week previous, he had visited one or other of these con- 
 spirators, save Sunday, and then probably he saw them in 
 town. When he saw Joseph on the 6th, Joseph had pre- 
 pared the house, and would naturally tell him of it ; there 
 were constant communications between them, daily and 
 nightly visitation ; — too much knowledge of these parties 
 and this transaction, to leave a particle of doubt on the 
 mind of any one, that Frank Knapp knew that the murder 
 was to be done this night. The hour was come, and he 
 knew it ; if so, and he was in Brown Street, without ex- 
 plaining w^hy he was there, can the jury for a moment 
 doubt, whether he was there to countenance, aid or sup- 
 port ; or for curiosity alone ; or to learn how the wages 
 of sin and death were earned by the perpetrator ? 
 
 [Here Mr. Webster read the law from Hawkins. 1 Hawk. 
 204, lib. 1, chap. 32, sec. 7.] 
 
 The perpetrator would derive courage, and strength, and 
 confidence, from the knowledge of the fact that one of his 
 associates was near by. If he was in Brown Street, he 
 could have been there for no other purpose. If there for 
 this purpose, then he was, in the language of the law, 
 present, aiding and abetting in the murder. 
 
 His interest lay in being somewhere else. If he had 
 
ON THE TKIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 383 
 
 nothing to do with the murder, no part to act, why not 
 stay at home? Why should he jeopard his own life, if it 
 was not agreed that he should be there ? He would not 
 voluntarily go where the very place would probably cause 
 him to swing if detected. He would not voluntarily as- 
 sume the place of danger. His taking this place, proves 
 that he went to give aid. His staying away would have 
 made an alibi. If he had nothing to do with the murder, 
 he would be at home, where he could prove his alihi. He 
 knew he was in danger, because he was guilty of the con- 
 spiracy, and, if he had nothing to do, would not expose 
 himself to suspicion or detection. 
 
 Did the prisoner at the bar countenance this murder ? 
 Did he concur, or did he non-concur, in what the perpe- 
 trator was about to do ? Would he have tried to shield 
 him ? Would he have furnished his cloak for protection ? 
 Would he have pointed out a safe way of retreat ? As you 
 would answer these questions, so you should answer the 
 general question — Avhether he was there consenting to the 
 murder, or whether he was there a spectator only. 
 
 One word more on this presence, called constructive pre- 
 sence. What aid is to be rendered ? Where is the line to 
 be drawn, between acting, and omitting to act ? Suppose 
 he had been in the house, suppose he had followed the 
 perpetrator to the chamber: what could he have done? 
 This was to be a murder by stealth, it was to be a secret 
 assassination. It was not their purpose to have an open 
 combat ; they were to approach their victim unawares, and 
 silently give the fatal blow. But if he had been in the 
 chamber, no one can doubt that he would have been an 
 abettor; because of his presence, and ability to render 
 services, if needed. What service could he have rendered, 
 if there? Could he have helped him fly? Could he have 
 aided the silence of his movements ? Could he have 
 
884 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 facilitated his retreat, on the first alarm ? Surely, this was 
 a case, where there was more of safety in going alone, than 
 with another ; where company would only embarrass. 
 Richard Crowninshield would prefer to go alone. He knew 
 his errand too well. His nerves needed no collateral sup- 
 port. He was not the man to take with him a trembling 
 companion. He would prefer to have his aid at a distance. 
 He would not wish to be embarrassed by his presence. 
 He would prefer to have him out of the house. He would 
 prefer that he should be in Brown Street. But, whether 
 in the chamber, in the house, in the garden, or in the 
 street, whatsoever is aiding in immediate presence is aid- 
 ing in constructive presence — any thing that is aid in one 
 case is aid in the other. 
 
 [Reads from Hawkins. 4 Hawk. 201, lib. iv. chap. 29, 
 sec. 8.] 
 
 If then the aid be anyv/here, that embolaens the per- 
 petrator — that affords him hope or confidence in his en- 
 terprise : it is the same as though he stood at his elbow 
 with his sword drawn : his being there ready to act, with 
 the power to act, that is what makes him an abettor. 
 [Here Mr. Webster referred to Kelly's case, and Hyde's 
 case, &c., cited by counsel for the defendant, and showed 
 that they did not militate with the doctrine for which he 
 contended. The difference is, in those cases there was 
 open violence, this was a case of secret assassination. The 
 aid must meet the occasion. Here no acting was necessary, 
 but watching, concealment of escape, management.] 
 
 What are the facts in relation to this presence ? Frank 
 Knapp is proved a conspirator — proved to have known 
 that the deed was now to be done. Is it not probable 
 that he was in Brown Street to concur in the ipurder ? 
 There were four conspirators ; it was natural that some 
 one of them would go with the perpetrator. Richard 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 385 
 
 Crowninshield was to be the perpetrator ; he was to give 
 the blow. No evidence of any casting of the parts for 
 the others. The defendant would probably be the man 
 to take the second part. He was fond of exploits — he 
 was accustomed to the use of sword-canes, and dirks. If 
 any aid was required, he was the man to give it. At 
 least there is no evidence to the contrary of this. 
 
 Aid could not have been received from Joseph Knapp, 
 or from George Crowninshield. Joseph Knapp was at 
 Wenham, and took good care to prove that he was there. 
 George Crowninshield has proved satisfactorily where he 
 was ; that he was in other company, such as it was, until 
 eleven o'clock. This narrows the inquiry. This demands of 
 the prisoner to show, that if he was not in this place, 
 where he was ? It calls on him loudly to show this, and 
 to show it truly. If he could show it, he would do it. 
 If he don't tell, and that truly, it is against him. The 
 defence of an alibi is a double-edged sword. He knew 
 that he was in a situation, that he might be called upon to 
 account for himself. If he had had no particular ap- 
 pointment, or business to attend to, he would have taken 
 care to have been able so to have accounted. He would 
 have been out of town, or in some good company. Has he 
 accounted for himself on that night, to your satisfaction ? 
 
 The prisoner has attempted to prove an alibi, in two 
 ways. In the first place, by four young men with whom 
 he says he was in company on the evening of the murder, 
 from seven o'clock, till near ten o'clock ; this depends 
 upon the certainty of the night. In the second place, by 
 his family, from ten o'clock afterward ; this depends upon 
 the certainty of the time of night. These two classes 
 of proof have no connection with each other. One may 
 be true, and the other false, or they mny both be true, or 
 both be false. I shall examine this testimony with some 
 
 33 
 
386 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 attention, because on a former trial, it made more impres- 
 sion on the minds of the court, than on my own mind. I 
 think, when carefully sifted and compared, it will be found 
 to have in it more of plmtsibiliti/ than reality. 
 
 Mr. Page testifies, that on the evening of the 6th of 
 April, he was in company Avith Burchmore, Balch, and 
 Forrester, and that he met the defendant about seven 
 o'clock, near the Salem hotel ; that he afterward met 
 him at Remond's, about nine o'clock, and that he was in 
 company with him a considerable part of the evening. 
 This young gentleman is a member of college, and says 
 that he came in town the Saturday evening previous ; that 
 he is now able to say that it was the night of the murder, 
 when he walked with Frank Knapp, from a recollection 
 of the fact that he called himself to an account, on the 
 morning after the murder, as was natural for men to do 
 when an extraordinary occurrence happens. Gentlemen, 
 this kind of evidence is not satisfactory ; general impres- 
 sions as to time are not to be relied on. If I were called 
 upon to state the particular day on which any witness 
 testified in this cause, I could not do it. Every man will 
 notice the same thing in his own mind. There is no one 
 of these young men that could give any account of him- 
 self for any other day in the month of April. They are 
 made to remember the fact, and then they think they re- 
 member the time. He has no means of knowing it was 
 Tuesday more than any other time. He did not know it 
 at first, he could not know it afterward. He says he 
 called himself to an account ; this has no more to do with 
 the murder than with the man in the moon. Such testimony 
 is not worthy to be relied on, in any forty-shilling cause. 
 What occasion had he to call himself to an account ? Did 
 he Fuppose, that he should be suspected? Had he any 
 intimation of this conspiracy? 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KXAPP. 337 
 
 Suppose, gentlemen, you were either of you asked, 
 where you were, or what you were doing, on the 15th day 
 of June: you could not answer this question, without 
 calling to mind some events to make it certain. Just as 
 well may you remember on what you dined on each day 
 of the year past. Time is identical. Its subdivisions 
 are all alike. No man knows one day from another, or 
 one hour from another, but by some fact connected with it. 
 Days and hours are not visible to the senses, nor to be 
 apprehended and distinguished by the understanding. 
 The flow of time is known only by something which makes 
 It ; and he who speaks of the date of occurrences with 
 nothing to guide his recollection, speaks at random, and 
 is not to be relied on. This young gentleman remembers 
 the facts, and occurrences — he knows nothing why they 
 should not have happened on the evening of the 6th; 
 but he knows no more. All the rest is evidently conjec- 
 ture or impression. 
 
 Mr. White informs you that he told him he could not 
 tell what night it was. The first thoughts are all that are 
 valuable in such case. They miss the mark by taking 
 second aim. 
 
 Mr. Balch believes, but is not sure, that he was with 
 Frank Knapp on the evening of the murder. He has 
 given different accounts of the time. He has no means of 
 making it certain. All he knows is, that it was some 
 evening before Fast. But whether Monday, Tuesday, or 
 Saturday, he cannot tell. 
 
 Mr. Burchmore says, to the best of his belief, it was the 
 evening of the murder. Afterward he attempts to speak 
 positively, from recollecting that he mentioned the circum- 
 stance to William Peiice, as he went to the Mineral Spring 
 on Fast-day. Last Monday morning, he told Colonel Put- 
 nam he could not fix the time. This witness stands in a 
 
388 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 mucli -worse plight than either of the others. It is difficult 
 to reconcile all he has said, with any belief in the accuracy 
 of his recollections. 
 
 Mr. Forrester does not speak with any certainty as to 
 the night ; and it is very certain, that he told Mr. Loring 
 and others, that he did not know what night it was. 
 
 Now, what does the testimony of these four young men 
 amount to ? The only circumstance, by which they ap- 
 proximate to an identifying of the niglit, is, that three of 
 them say.it was cloudy; they think their walk was either 
 on Monday or Tuesday evening, and it is admitted that 
 Monday evening was clear, whence they draw the inference 
 that it must have been Tuesday. 
 
 But, fortunately, there is one fact disclosed in their 
 testimony that settles the question. Balch says, that on 
 the evening, whenever it was, that he saw the prisoner, 
 the prisoner told him he was going out of town on horse- 
 back, for a distance of about twenty minutes' ride, and 
 that he was going to get a horse at Osborn's. This was 
 about seven o'clock. At about nine, Balch says he saw 
 the prisoner again, and was then told by him, that he had 
 had his ride, and had returned. Now it appears by 
 Osborn's books, that the prisoner had a saddle-horse from 
 his stable, not on Tuesday evening, the night of the murder, 
 but on the Saturday evening previous. This fixes the 
 time, about which these young men testify, and is a com- 
 plete answer and refutation of the attempted alibi, on 
 Tuesday evening. 
 
 I come now to speak of the testimony adduced by the 
 defendant to explain where he was after ten o'clock on the 
 night of the murder. This comes chiefly from members 
 of the family ; from his father and brothers. 
 
 It is agreed that the affidavit of the prisoner should be 
 received as evidence of what his brother, Samuel H. Knapp, 
 
ox THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 38P 
 
 would testify, if present. S. H. Knapp says, that abou*^ 
 ten minutes past ten o'clock, his brother F. Knapp, on bis 
 Tvay to bed, opened his chamber-door, made some remarks, 
 closed the door, and went to his chamber ; and that he did 
 not hear him leave it afterward. How is this witness able 
 to fix the time at ten minutes past ten ? There is no cir- 
 cumstance mentioned, by which he fixes it. He had been 
 in bed, probably asleep, and was aroused from his sleep, 
 by the opening of the door. Was he in a situation to speak 
 of time with precision ? Could he know, under such cir- 
 cumstances, whether it was ten minutes past ten, or ten 
 minutes before eleven, when his brother spoke to him ? 
 What would be the natural result, in such a case ? But 
 we are not left to conjecture this result. We have positive 
 testimony on this point. Mr. Webb tells you that Samuel 
 told him on the 8th of June, " that he did not know what 
 time his brother Frank came home, and that he was not at 
 home when he went to bed." You will consider this tes- 
 timony of Mr. Webb, as endorsed upon this afiidavit ; and 
 with this endorsement upon it, you will give it its due 
 weight. This statement was made to him after Frank was 
 arrested. 
 
 I come to the testimony of the father. I find myself 
 incapable of speaking of him or his testimony with severity. 
 Unfortunate old man ! Another Lear, in the conduct (jf 
 his children ; another Lear. I fear, in the effect of his dis- 
 tress upon his mind and understanding. He is brought 
 here to testify, under circumstances that di.^nrm severity, 
 and call loudly for sympathy. Though it is impossible not 
 to see that his story cannot be credited, yet I am not able 
 to speak of him otherwise than in sorrow and grief. Un- 
 happy father! he strives to remember, perhaps persuades 
 himself that he does remember, that on tlie eveninsr of the 
 murder he was himself at home at ten o'clock. He tuinks, 
 
 S3* 
 
390 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 or seems to thinlv, that his son came in, at about five 
 minutes past ten. He fancies that he remembers his con- 
 versation ; he thinks he spoke of bolting the door ; he 
 thinks he asked the time of night ; he seems to remember 
 his then going to his bed. ALas ! these are but the swim- 
 ming fancies of an agitated and distressed mind. ALas ! 
 they are but the dreams of hope, — its uncertain lights 
 flickering on the thick darkness of parental distress. Alas! 
 the miserable father knows nothing, in reality, of all these 
 things. 
 
 Mr. Shepard says that the first conversation he had with 
 Mr. Knapp, was soon after the murder, and before the 
 arrest of his sons. Mr. Knapp says it was after the arrest 
 of his sons. His own fears led him to say to Mr. Shepard, 
 that his " son Frank was at home that night ; and so 
 Phippen told him, — or as'Phippen told him." Mr. Shepard 
 says that he was struck with the remark at the time, that 
 it made an unfavorable impression on his mind ; he does 
 not tell you what that impression was, but when you con- 
 nect it Avith the previous inquiry he had made, — whether 
 Frank had continued to associate with the Crowninshields ? 
 — and recollect that the Crowninshields were then known 
 to be suspected of this crime, can you doubt what this im- 
 pression was ? can you doubt as to the fears he then had ? 
 
 This poor old man tells you that he was greatly perplexed 
 at the time, that he found himself in embarrassed circum- 
 stances ; that on this very night he was engaged in making 
 an assignment of his property to his friend, Mr. Shepard. 
 If ever charity should furnish a mantle for error, it should 
 be here. Imagination cannot picture a more deplorable, 
 distressed condition. 
 
 The same general remarks may be applied to his con- 
 versation with Mr. Treadwell, as have been made upon 
 that with Mr. Shepard. He told him that he believed 
 
ON TTTE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 391 
 
 Frank was at home about the usual time. In liis con- 
 versations with either of these persons, he did not pretend 
 to know, of his own knowledge, the time that he came 
 home. He now tells you, positively, that he recollects 
 the time, and that he so told Mr. Shepard. He is directly 
 contradicted by both these witnesses, as respectable men 
 as Salem affords. 
 
 This idea of alibi, is of recent origin. Would Samuel 
 Knapp have gone to sea, if it were then thought of? 
 His testimony, if true, was too important to be lost. If 
 there be any truth in this part of the alibi, it is so near in 
 point of time, that it cannot be relied on. The mere 
 variation of half an hour would avoid it. The mere 
 variations of different time-pieces would explain it. 
 
 Has the defendant proved where he was on that night ? 
 If you doubt about it— there is an end of it. The burden 
 is upon him, to satisfy you beyond all reasonable doubt. 
 Osborn's books, in connection with what the young men 
 state, are conclusive, I think, on this point. He has not, 
 then, accounted for himself— he has attempted it, and has 
 failed. I pray you to remember, gentlemen, that this is 
 a case, in which the prisoner would, more than any other, 
 be rationally able to account for himself, on the night of 
 the murder, if he could do so. He was in the conspiracy, 
 he knew the murder was then to be committed, and if he 
 himself was to have no hand in its actual execution, he 
 would of course, as matter of safety and precaution, be 
 somewhere else, and be able to prove, afterward, that he 
 had been somewhere else. Having this motive to prove 
 himself elsewhere, and the power to do it, if he were else- 
 where, his failing in such proof must necessarily leave a 
 very strong inference against him. 
 
 But, gentlemen, let us now consider what is the evidence 
 produced on the part of the Government to prove that 
 
892 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 John Francis Knapp, the prisoner at the bar, was in 
 Brown Street on the night of the murder. This is a point 
 of vital importance in this cause. Unless this be made 
 out, beyond reasonable doubt, the law of presence does 
 not apply to the case. The Government undertake to 
 prove that he was present, aiding in the mur^Jer, by prov- 
 ing that he was in Brown Street for this purpose. Now, 
 what are the undoubted facts ? They are, that two per- 
 sons were seen in that street, at several times, during that 
 evening, under suspicious circumstances ; — under such cir- 
 cumstances as induced those who saw them, to watch their 
 movements. Of this, there can be no doubt. Mirick saw 
 a man standing at the post opposite his store, from fifteen 
 minutes before nine, until twenty minutes after, dressed in 
 a full frock-coat, glazed cap, &c., in size and general ap- 
 pearance answering to the prisoner at the bar. This person 
 was waiting there ; and whenever any one approached him, 
 he moved to and from the corner, as though he would 
 avoid being suspected, or recognised. Afterward, two per- 
 sons were seen by Webster, walking in Howard Street, with 
 a slow, deliberate movement, that attracted his attention. 
 This was about half-past nine. One of these he took to 
 be the prisoner at the bar — the other he did not know. 
 
 About half-past ten, a person is seen sitting on the 
 ropewalk steps, wrapped in a cloak. He drops his head 
 when passed, to avoid being known. Shortly after, two 
 persons are seen to meet in this street, without ceremony 
 or salutation, and in a hurried manner to converse for a 
 short time ; then to separate, and run off with great speed. 
 Now, on this same night, a gentleman is slain, — murdered 
 in his bed, — his house being entered by stealth from with- 
 out ; and his house situated within three hundred feet of 
 this street. The windows of his chamber were in plain sight 
 from this street ; — a weapon of death is afterward found 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 393 
 
 in a place where these persons were seen to pass— in a 
 retired phice, around which they had been seen lingering. 
 It is now known that this murder was committed by a con- 
 spiracy of four persons, conspiring together for this pur- 
 pose. No account is given who these suspected persons 
 thus seen in Brown Street and its neighborhood were. 
 Now, I ask, gentlemen, whether you or any man can 
 doubt, that this murder was committed by the persons 
 who were thus in and about Brown Street? Can any 
 person doubt that they were there for purposes connected 
 with this murder ? If not for this purpose, what were 
 they there for*? When there is a cause so near at hand, 
 why wander into conjecture for an explanation? Com- 
 mon sense requires you to take the nearest adequate cause 
 for a known effect. Who were these suspicious persons in 
 Brown Street ? There was something extraordinary about 
 them — something noticeable, and noticed at the time — some- 
 thing in their appearance that aroused suspicion. And a man 
 is found the next morning murdered in the near vicinity. 
 
 Now, so long as no other account shall be given of 
 those suspicious persons, so long the inference must re- 
 main irresistible, that they were the murderers. Let it be 
 remembered, that it is already shown that this murder 
 was the result of conspiracy, and of concert ; let it be 
 remembered, that the house, having been opened from 
 within, was entered, by stealth, from without. Let it be 
 remembered that Brown Street, where these persons were 
 repeatedly seen, under such suspicious circumstances, was 
 a place from which every occupied room in Mr. White's 
 house was clearly seen; let it be remembered that the 
 place, though thus very near to Mr. White's house, was a 
 retired and lonely place ; and let it be remembered that the 
 instrument of death was afterward found concealed, very- 
 near the same spot. 
 
304 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 Must not every man come to the conclusion, that these 
 pei'sons, thus seen in Brown Street, were the murderers ? 
 Every man's own judgment, I think, must satisfy him that 
 this must be so. It is a plain deduction of common sense. 
 It is a point, on which each one of you may reason like a 
 Hale, or a Mansfield. The two occurrences explain each 
 other. The murder shows why these persons were thus 
 lurking, at that hour, in Brown Street ; and their lurking 
 in Brown Street, shows who committed the murder. 
 
 If, then, the persons in and about Brown Street were 
 the plotters and executors of the murder of Captain White, 
 we know who they were, and you know that thei-e is one 
 of them. 
 
 This fearful concatenation of circumstances puts him to 
 an account. He was a conspirator. He had entered into 
 this plan of murder. The murder is committed, and he is 
 known to have been Avithin three minutes' walk of the 
 place. He must account for himself. He has attempted 
 this, and failed. Then, with all these general reasons to 
 show he was actually in Brown Street, and his failures in 
 his ALIBI, let us see what is the direct proof of his being 
 there. But first, let me ask, is it not very remarkable, 
 that there is no attempt to show where Richard Crownin- 
 shield, Jr. was on that night ? We hear nothing of him. He 
 was seen in none of his usual haunts, about the town. 
 Yet, if he was the actual perpetrator of the murder, 
 which nobody doubts, he was in the town, somewhere. 
 Can you, therefore, entertain a doubt, that he was one of 
 the persons seen in Brown Street ? And as to the prisoner, 
 you will recollect, that since the testimony of the young 
 men has failed to show where he was that evening, the last 
 we hear or know of him, on the day preceding the murder, 
 is, that at four o'clock p.m. he was at his brother's, in 
 Wenham, He had left home, after dinner, in a manner 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 395 
 
 doubtless designed to avoid observation, and had gone to 
 Wenham. probably by way of Danvers. As we hear 
 nothing of him, after four o'clock p.m. for the remainder 
 of the day and evening ; as he was one of the conspirators ; 
 as Richard Crowninshield, Jr. was another ; as Richard 
 Crowninshield, Jr. was in town in the evening, and yet 
 seen in no usual place of resort, the inference is very fair 
 that Richard Crowninshield, Jr. and the prisoner were 
 together, acting in execution of their conspiracy. Of 
 the four conspirators, J. J. Knapp, Jr. was at Wenham, 
 and George Crowninshield has been accounted for ; so 
 that if the persons seen in Brown Street, were the mur- 
 derers, one of them must have been Richard Crownin- 
 shield, Jr. and the other must have been the prisoner at 
 the bar. Now, as to the proof of his identity with one of 
 the persons seen in Brown Street. 
 
 Mr. Mirick, a cautious witness, examined the person he 
 saw, closely, in a light night, and says that he thinks the 
 prisoner at the bar is the same person ; and that he should 
 not hesitate at all, if he were seen in the same dress. His 
 opinion is formed, partly from his own observation, and 
 partly from the description of others. But this description 
 turns out to be only in regard to the dress. It is said, that 
 he is now more confident, than on the former trial. If he 
 has varied in his testimony, make such allowance as you 
 may think proper. I do not perceive any material variance. 
 He thought him the same person, when he was first brought 
 to court, and as he saw him get out of the chaise. This is 
 one of the cases, in which a witness is permitted to give an 
 opinion. This witness is as honest as yourselves — neither 
 willing nor swift; but he says, he believes it was the man — 
 "this is my opinion;" and this it is proper for him to give. 
 If partly founded on what he has heard, then his opinion 
 is not to be taken ; but, if on what he saiv, then you can 
 
396 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 have no better evidence. I lay no stress on similarity of 
 dress. No man will ever be hanged by my voice on such 
 evidence. But then it is proper to notice, that no infer- 
 ences drawn from any dissimilarity of dress, can be given 
 in the prisoner's favor ; because, in fact, the person seen 
 by Mirick was dressed like the prisoner. 
 
 The description of the person seen by Mirick answers to 
 that of the prisoner at the bar. In regard to the supposed 
 discrepancy of statements, before and now, there would be 
 no end to such minute inquiries. It would not be strange 
 if witnesses should vary. I do not think much of slight 
 shades of variation. If I believe the witness is honest, 
 that is enough. If he has expressed himself more strongly 
 now than then, this does not prove him false. 
 
 Peter E. Webster saw the prisoner at the bar, as he then 
 thought, and still thinks, walking in Howard Street at half- 
 past nine o'clock. He then thought it was Frank Knapp, 
 and has not altered his opinion since. He knew him well ; 
 he had long known him. If he then thought it was he, this 
 goes far to prove it. He observed him the more, as it was 
 unusual to see gentlemen walk there at that hour. It was 
 a retired, lonely street. Now, is there reasonable doubt 
 that Mr. Webster did see him there that night ? How can 
 you have more proof than this ? He judged by his walk, 
 by his general appearance, by his deportment. We all 
 judge in this manner. If you believe he is right, it goes 
 a great way in this case. But then this person it is said 
 had a cloak on, and that he could not, therefore, be the 
 same person that Mirick saw. If we were treating of men 
 that had no occasion to disguise themselves or their con- 
 duct, there might be something in this argument. But as 
 it is, there is little in it. It may be presumed that they 
 would change their dress. This would help their disguise. 
 What is easier than to throw off a cloak, and again put it 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 397 
 
 on? Perhaps he was less fearful of being known when 
 alone, than when with the perpetrator. 
 
 Mr. Southwick swears all that a man can swear. He 
 has the best means of judging that could be had at the 
 time. He tells you that he left his father's house at half- 
 past ten o'clock, and as he passed to his own house in 
 Brown Street, he saw a man sitting on the steps of the 
 ropewalk, &c. &c. — that he passed him three times, and 
 each time he held down his head, so that he did not see his 
 face. That the man had on a cloak, which was not wrapped 
 around him, and a glazed cap. That he took the man to 
 be Frank Knapp at the time ; that when he went into his 
 house, he told his wife that he thought it was Frank Knapp ; 
 that he knew him well, having known him from a boy. 
 And his wife swears that he did so tell her at the time. 
 What could mislead this witness at the time ? He was not 
 then suspecting Frank Knapp of any thing. He could not 
 then be influenced by any prejudice. If you believe that 
 the witness saw Frank Knapp in this position, at this time, 
 it proves the case. Whether you believe it or not, depends 
 upon the credit of the witness. He swears it. If true, it 
 is solid evidence. Mrs. Southwick supports her husband. 
 Are they true ? Are they worthy of belief? If he de- 
 serves the epithets applied to him, then he ought not to be 
 believed. In this fact, they cannot be mistaken : they are 
 right, or they are perjured. As to his not speaking to 
 Frank Knapp, that depends upon their intimacy. But a 
 very good reason is, Frank chose to disguise himself. This 
 makes nothing against his credit. But it is said that he 
 should not be believed. And Avhy ? Because, it is said, 
 he himself now tells you that when he testified before the 
 grand jury at Ipswich, he did not then say that he thought 
 the person he saw in Brown Street was Frank Knapp, but 
 that "the person was about the size of Selman." The 
 
 34 
 
898 SPEECHES OF DAISTIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 means of attaclcing him, therefore, come from himself. If 
 he is a false man, why should he tell truths against him- 
 self? they rely on his veracity to prove that he is a liar. 
 Before you can come to this conclusion, you will consider, 
 whether all the circumstances are now known, that should 
 have a bearing on this point. Suppose that when he was 
 before the grand jury he was asked by the attorney this 
 question, " Was the person you saw in Brown Street about 
 the size of Selman ?" and he answered, yes. This was all 
 true. Suppose also that he expected to be inquired of 
 further, and no further questions were put to him. Would 
 it not be extremely hard to impute to him perjury for this ? 
 It is not uncommon for witnesses to think that they have 
 done all their duty, when they have answered the questions 
 put to them ? But suppose that we admit, that he did not 
 then tell all he knew, this does not affect the fact at all ; 
 because he did tell, at the time, in the hearing of others-, 
 that the person he saw Avas Frank Knapp. There is not 
 the slightest suggestion against the veracity or accuracy 
 of Mrs. Southwick. Now, she swears positively, that her 
 husband came into the house and told her that he had seen 
 a person on the ropewalk steps, and believed it was Frank 
 Knapp. 
 
 It is said that Mr. Southwick is contradicted, also, by 
 Mr. Shillaber. I do not so understand Mr. Shillaber's 
 testimony. I think what they both testify is reconcilable 
 and consistent. My learned brother said, on a similar 
 occasion, that there is more probability in such cases that 
 the persons hearing should misunderstand, than that the 
 person speaking should contradict himself. I think the 
 same remarks applicable here. 
 
 You have all witnessed the uncertainty of testimony, 
 when witnesses are called to testify what other witnesses 
 said. Several respectable counsellors have been called on, 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. P. KNAPP. 899 
 
 on this occasion, to give testimony of that sort. They 
 have, every one of them, given diflFerent versions. They 
 all took minutes at the time, and without doubt intend to 
 state the truth. But still they differ. Mr. Shillaber's 
 version is different from every thing that Southwick has 
 stated elsewhere. But little reliance is to be placed on 
 slight variations in testimony, unless they are manifestly 
 intentional. I think that Mr. Shillaber must be satisfied 
 that he did not rightly understand Mr. Southwick. I 
 confess I misunderstood Mr. Shillaber on the former trial 
 if I now rightly understand him. I therefore did not then 
 recall Mr. Southwick to the stand. Mr. Southwick, as I 
 read it, understood Mr. Shillaber as asking him about a 
 person coming out of Newbury Street, and whether, for 
 aught he knew, it might not be Richard Crowninshield, Jr. 
 He answered that he could not tell. He did not under- 
 stand Mr. Shillaber as questioning him as to the person 
 whom he saw sitting on the steps of the ropewalk. 
 Southwick, on this trial, having heard Mr. Shillaber, has 
 been recalled to the stand, and states that Mr. Shillaber 
 entirely misunderstood him. This is certainly most pro- 
 bable, because the controlling fact in the case is not con- 
 troverted—that is, that Southwick did tell his wife, at the 
 very moment he entered his house, that he had seen a 
 person on the ropewalk steps, whom he believed to be 
 Frank Knapp. Nothing can prove, with more certainty 
 than this, that Southwick, at the time, thought the person 
 whom he thus saw to be the prisoner at the bar. 
 
 Mr. Bray is an acknowledged accurate and intelligent 
 witness. He was highly complimented by my brother on 
 the former trial, although he now charges him with vary- 
 ing his testimony. What could be his motive ? You will 
 be slow in imputing to him any design of this kind. I 
 deny altogether that there is any contradiction. There 
 
4U0 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 may be differences, but not contradiction. These arise 
 from the difference in the questions put — the difference 
 between believing and kiioiving. On the first trial, he said 
 he did not hioiv the person, and now says the same. Then 
 ■we did not do all we had a right to do. We did not ask 
 him who he tliouglit it was. Now, when so asked, he says 
 he believes it was the prisoner at the bar. If he had then 
 been asked this question, he Avould have given the same 
 answer. That he has expressed himself stronger, I 
 admit ; but he has not contradicted himself. He is more 
 confident now ; and that is all. A man may not assert a 
 thing, and still not have any doubt upon it. Cannot 
 every man see this distinction to be consistent? I leave 
 him in that attitude ; that only is the difference. On 
 questions of identity, opinion is evidence. We may ask 
 the witness either if he kneio Avho the person seen was, or 
 who he thinks he was. And he may well answer, as 
 Captain Bray has answered, that he does not hiow who it 
 was, but tliat he thinks it Avas the prisoner. 
 
 We have offered to produce witnesses to prove that as 
 soon as Bray saw the prisoner, he pronounced him the 
 same person. We are not at liberty to call them to cor- 
 roborate our own witness. How then could this fact of 
 prisoner's being in Brown Street be better proved? If ten 
 witnesses had testified to it, it would be no better. Two 
 men, who knew him well, took it to be Frank Knapp, and 
 one of them so said, Avhen there Avas nothing to mislead 
 them. Two others, that examined him closely, now swear 
 to their opinion that he is the man. 
 
 Miss Jaqueth saw three persons pass by the ropewalk, 
 several evenings before the murder. She saw one of them 
 pointing toward Mr. White's house. She noticed that 
 another had something which appeared to be like an 
 instrument of music ; that he put it behind him, and 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 401 
 
 attempted to conceal it. Who were these persons ? This 
 was but a few steps from the place Avliere this apparent 
 instrument of music (of music such as Richard Crownin- 
 shield, Jr. spoke of to Palmer) was afterward found. 
 These facts prove this a point of rendezvous for these 
 parties. Thej show Brown Street to have been the place 
 for consultation and observation; and to this purpose it 
 was well suited. 
 
 Mr. Burns 's testimony is also important. What was 
 the defendant's object in his private conversation with 
 Burns? He knew that Burns was out that night; that 
 he lived near Brown Street, and that he had probably seen 
 him; and he wished him to say nothing. He said to 
 Burns, "If you saw any of your friends out that night, 
 say nothing about it. My brother Jo and I are your 
 friends." This is plain proof that he wished to say to 
 him, If you saw me in Brown Street that night, say 
 nothing about it. 
 
 But it is said that Burns ought not to be believed, 
 because he mistook the color of the dagger, and because 
 he has varied in his description of it. These are slight 
 circumstances, if his general character be good. To my 
 mind they are of no importance. It is for you to make 
 what deduction you may think proper, on this account, 
 from the weight of his evidence. His conversation with 
 Burns, if Burns is believed, shows two things: first, that 
 he desired Burns not to mention it, if he had seen him on 
 the night of the murder ; second, that he wished to fix the 
 charge of murder on Mr. Stephen White. Both of these 
 prove his own guilt. 
 
 I think you will be of opinion, gentlemen, that Brown 
 Street was a 'probable place for the conspirators to assem- 
 ble, and for an aid to be. If we knew their whole plan, 
 and if we were skilled to judge in such a case, then we 
 
 34* 
 
402 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 could perhaps determine on this point better. But it is a 
 retired place, and still commands a full view of the house ; 
 — a lonely place, but still a place of observation. Not 
 so lonely that a person would excite suspicion to be seen 
 walking there in an ordinary manner ; — not so public as 
 to be noticed by many. It is near enough to the scene of 
 action in point of law. It was their point of centralitij. 
 The club was found near the spot — in a place provided for 
 it — in a place that had been previously hunted out — in a 
 concerted place of concealment. Here ivas their point of 
 rendezvous ; here might the lights be seen; here might an 
 aid be secreted ; here was he within call; here might he 
 be aroused by the sound of the luhistle ; here might he 
 carry the weapon ; here might he receive the murderer 
 after the murder. 
 
 Then, gentlemen, the general question occurs, is it 
 satisfactorily proved, by all these facts and circumstances, 
 that the defendant was in and about Brown Street, on the 
 nijrht of the murder ? Considerincr;, that the murder was 
 effected by a conspiracy ; — considering, that he was one of 
 the four conspirators ; — considering, that two of the con- 
 spirators have accounted^ for themselves, on the night of 
 the murder, and were not in Brown Street ; — considering, 
 that the prisoner does not account for himself, nor show 
 ■where he was ; — considering, that Richard Crowninshield, 
 the other conspirator, and the perpetrator, is not accounted 
 for, nor shown to be elsewhere ; — considering, that it is 
 now past all doubt that two persons were seen in and 
 about Brown Street, at different times, lurking, avoiding 
 observation, and exciting so much suspicion that the neigh- 
 bors actually watched them \, — considering, that if these 
 persons, thus lurking in Brown Street, at that hour, were 
 not the murderers, it remains, to this day, wholly unknown 
 who they were, or what their business was ; — considering 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 403 
 
 the testimony of Miss Jaquetli, and that the club was 
 afterward found near this place ; considering, finally, 
 that Webster and Southwick saw these persons, and then 
 took one of them for the defendant, and that Southwick 
 then told his wife so, and that Bray and Mirick examined 
 them closely, and now swear to their belief that the 
 prisoner was one of them ; it is for you to say, putting 
 these considerations together, whether you believe the 
 prisoner Avas actually in Brown Street, at the time of the 
 murder. 
 
 By the counsel for the defendant, much stress has been 
 laid upon the question, whether Brown Street was a place 
 in which aid could be given ? a place in which actual as- 
 sistance could be rendered in this transaction ? This must 
 be mainly decided, by their own opinion who selected the 
 place ; by what they thought at the time, according to their 
 plan of operation. 
 
 If it was agreed that the prisoner should be there to 
 assist, it is enough. If they thought the place proper for 
 their purpose, according to their plain, it is sufficient. 
 
 Suppose we could prove expressly, that they agreed that 
 Frank should be there, and he was there ; and you should 
 think it not a well-chosen place, for aiding and abetting, 
 must he be acauitted? No! — it is not what /think, or 
 you think, of the appropriateness of the place — it is what 
 they thought at the time. 
 
 If the prisoner was in Brown Street, by appointment 
 and agreement with the perpetrator, for the purp<;,se of 
 giving assistance, if assistance should be needed, it may 
 safely be presumed that the place was suited to such assist- 
 ance as it was supposed by the parties might chance to 
 become requisite. 
 
 If in Brown Street, w^as he there by appointment ? was 
 he there to aid, if aid were necessary ? was he there for, or 
 
404 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 against the murderer ? to concur, or to oppose ? to favor, 
 or to thwart ? Did the perpetrator know he was there — 
 there waiting ? If so, then it folloAVS, he was there by 
 appointment. He was at the post, half an hour ; he was 
 waiting for somebody. This proves ajypointment — arrange- 
 ment — previous agreement ; then it follows, he was there 
 to aid, — to encourage, — to embolden the perpetrator ; and 
 that is enough. If he were in such a situation as to afford 
 aid, or that he was relied upon for aid, — then he was aid- 
 ing and abetting. It is enough that the conspirators 
 desired to have him there. Besides, it may be well said, 
 that he could afford just as much aid there, as if he had 
 been in Essex Street— as if he had been standing even at 
 the gate, or at the window. It was not an act of power 
 against power that was to be done, — it was a secret act, to 
 be done by stealth. The aid was to be placed in a position 
 secure from observation. It was important to the security 
 of both, that he should be in a lonely place. Now, it is 
 obvious, that there are many purposes for which he might 
 be in Brown Street. 
 
 1. Richard Crowninshield might have been secreted in 
 the garden, and waiting for a signal. 
 
 2. Or he might be in Brown Street, to advise him as to 
 the time of making his entry into the house. 
 
 3. Or to favor his escape. 
 
 4. Or to see if the street was clear when he came out. 
 
 5. Or to conceal the weapon Of the clothes. 
 
 6. To be ready for any other unforeseen contingency. 
 
 Richard Crowninshield lived in Danvers — he would re- 
 tire the most secret way. Brown Street is that way ; if 
 you find him there, can you doubt why he was there ? 
 
 If, gentlemen, the prisoner went into Brown Street, by 
 appointment with the perpetrator, to render aid or en- 
 couragement, in any of these ways, he was present, in 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 405 
 
 legal contemplation, aiding and abetting in this murder. 
 It is not necessary that he should have done any thing ; 
 it is enough, that he was ready to act, and in a place to 
 act. If his being in Brown Street, by appointment, at 
 the time of the murder, emboldened the purpose and en- 
 couraged the heart of the murderer, by the hope of instant 
 aid, if aid should become necessary, then, without doubt, 
 he was present, aiding and abetting, and was a principal 
 in the murder. 
 
 I now proceed, gentlemen, to the consideration of the 
 testimony of Mr. Colman. Although this evidence bears 
 on every material part of the cause, I have purposely 
 avoided every comment on it, till the present moment, 
 when I have done with the other evidence in the case. As 
 to the admission of this evidence, there has been a great 
 struggle, and its importance demanded it. The general 
 rule of law is, that confessions are to be received as evi- 
 dence. They are entitled to great or to little considera- 
 tion, according to the circumstances under which they are 
 made. Voluntary, deliberate confessions are the most im- 
 portant and satisfactory evidence. But confessions hastily 
 made, or improperly obtained, are entitled to little or no 
 consideration. It is always to be inquired, whether they 
 were purely voluntary, or were made under any undue in- 
 fluence of hope or fear ; for, in general, if any influence 
 were exerted on the mind of the person confessing, such 
 confessions are not to be submitted to a jury. 
 
 Who is Mr. Colman ? He is an intelligent, accurate, 
 and cautious witness. A gentleman- of high and well- 
 known character ; and of unquestionable veracity. As a 
 clergyman, highly respectable ; as a man, of fair name and 
 fame. 
 
 Why was Mr. Colman with the prisoner? Joseph J. 
 Knapp was his parishioner ; he was the head of a family, 
 
406 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 and had been married by Mr. Colman. The interests of 
 his family were dear to liim. He felt for their afflictions, 
 and Avas anxious to alleviate their sufferings. He went 
 from the purest and best of motives to visit Joseph Knapp. 
 He came to save, not to destroy ; to rescue, not to take 
 away life. In this family, he thought there might be a 
 chance to save one. It is a misconstruction of Mr. Colman's 
 motives, at once the most strange and the most unchari- 
 table, a perversion of all just views of his conduct and 
 intentions, the most unaccountable, to represent him as 
 acting, on this occasion, in hostility to any one, or as de- 
 sirous of injuring or endangering any one. He has stated 
 his own motives, and his own conduct, in a manner to com- 
 mand universal belief, and universal respect. For intelli- 
 gence, for consistency, for accuracy, for caution, for candor, 
 never did witness acquit himself better, or stand fairer. In 
 all that he did, as a man, and all he has said, as a witness, 
 he has shown himself worthy of entire regard. 
 
 Now, gentlemen, very important confessions made by the 
 prisoner, are sworn to by Mr. Colman. They were made 
 in the prisoner's cell, where Mr. Colman had gone with the 
 prisoner's brother, N. P. Knapp. Whatever conversation 
 took place, was in the presence of N. P. Knapp. Now, on 
 the part of the prisoner, two things are asserted ; first, that 
 such inducements were suggested to the prisoner, in this 
 interview, that any confessions by him ought not to be re- 
 ceived. Second, that, in point of fact, he made no such 
 confessions, as Mr. Colman testifies to, nor, indeed, any 
 confessions at all. These two propositions are attempted 
 to be supported by the testimony of N. P. Knapp. These 
 two witnesses, Mr. Colman and N. P. Knapp, differ entirely. 
 There is no possibility of reconciling them. No charity can 
 cover both. One or the other has sworn falsely. If N. P. 
 Knapp be believed, Mr. Colman's testimony must be wholly 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 407 
 
 disregarded. It is, then, a question of credit, a question 
 of belief, between the two witnesses. As you decide 
 between these, so you will, decide on all this part of the 
 case. 
 
 Mr. Colman has given you a plain narrative, a consistent 
 account, and has uniformly stated the same things. He is 
 not contradicted by any thing in the case, except Phippen 
 Knapp. He is influenced, as far as we can see, by no bias, 
 or prejudice, any more than other men, except so far as his 
 character is now at stake. He has feelings on this point, 
 doubtless, and ought to have. If what he has stated be 
 not true, I cannot see any ground for his escape. If he be 
 a true man, he must have heard what he testifies. No 
 treachery of memory brings to memory things that never 
 took place. There is no reconciling his evidence with good 
 intention, if the facts are not as he states them. He is on 
 trial as to his veracity. 
 
 The relation in which the other witness stands, deserves 
 your careful consideration. He is a member of the family. 
 He has the lives of two brothers depending, as he may 
 think, on the effect of his evidence ; depending on every 
 word he speaks. I hope he has not another responsibility 
 resting upon him. j3y the advice of a friend, and that 
 friend Mr. Colman, J. Knapp made a full and free con- 
 fession, and obtained a promise of pardon. He has since, 
 as you know, probably by the advice of other friends, re- 
 tracted that confession, and rejected the ofi"ered pardon. 
 Events will show, who of these friends and advisers ad- 
 vised him best, and befriended him most. In the mean 
 time, if this brother, the witness, be one of these advisers, 
 and advised, the retraction, he has, most emphatically, the 
 lives of his brothers resting upon his evidence and upon 
 his conduct. Compare the situation of these two witnesses. 
 Do you not see mighty motive enough on the one side, and 
 
408 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 want of all motive on the other ? I would gladly find an 
 apology for that witness, in his agonized feelings, — in his 
 distressed situation ; — in the agitation of that hour, or of 
 this. I would gladly impute it to error, or to want of 
 recollection, to confusion of mind, or disturbance of feel- 
 ing. I would gladly impute to any pardonable source, that 
 which cannot be reconciled to facts, and to truth ; but, even 
 in a case calling for so much sympathy, justice must yet 
 prevail, and we must come to the conclusion, however re- 
 luctantly, which that demands from us. 
 
 It is said, Phippen Knapp was probably correct, because 
 he knew he should be called as a witness. Witness — to 
 what? When he says there was no confession, what could 
 he expect to bear witness of? But I do not put it on the 
 ground that he did not hear ; I am compelled to put it on 
 the other ground — that he did hear, and does not now truly 
 tell what he heard. 
 
 If Mr. Colman Avere out of the case, there are other 
 reasons why the story of Phippen Knapp should not be 
 believed. It has in it inherent improbabilities. It is un- 
 natural, and inconsistent with the accompanying circum- 
 stances. He tells you that they went " to the cell of 
 Frank, to see if he had any objection^ to taking a trial, and 
 suffering his brother to accept the offer of pardon :" in 
 other words, to obtain Frank's consent to Joseph's making 
 a confession ; and in case this consent was not obtained, 
 that the pardon would be offered to Frank, &c. Did they 
 bandy about the chance of life, between these two, in this 
 way ? Did Mr. Colman, after having given this pledge to 
 Joseph, after having received a disclosure from Joseph, go 
 to the cell to Frank for such a purpose as this ? It is im- 
 possible ; it cannot be so. 
 
 AfTjiin: we know that Mr. Colman found the club the 
 next day ; that he went directly to the place of deposit. 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 409 
 
 and found it at the first attempt, — exactly where he says 
 he had been informed it was. Now, Phippen Knapp says 
 that Frank had stated nothing respecting the club, that it 
 was not mentioned in that conversation. He says, also, 
 that he was present in the cell of Joseph all the time that 
 Mr. Colman was there, that he believes he heard all that 
 was said in Joseph's cell; and that he did not himself 
 knoAV where the club was, and never had known where it 
 was, until he heard it stated in court. Now, it is certain, 
 that Mr. Colman says he did not learn the particular 
 place of deposit of the club from Joseph ; that he only 
 learned from him that it was deposited under the steps of 
 the Howard Street meeting-house, without defining the 
 particular steps. It is certain, also, that he had more 
 knowledge of the position of the club than this — else how 
 could he have placed his hand on it so readily ? and where 
 else could he have obtained his knowledge, except from 
 Frank ? [Here Mr. Dexter said that Mr. Colman had had 
 other interviews with Joseph, and might have derived the 
 information from him at previous visits. Mr. Webster 
 replied, that Mr. Colman had testified that he learned 
 nothing in relation to the club until this visit. Mr. Dex- 
 ter denied there being any such testimony. Mr. Colman's 
 evidence was then read from the notes of the judges, and 
 several other persons, and Mr, Webster then proceeded.] 
 My point is, to show that Phippen Knapp's story is not 
 true, is not consistent with itself. That taking it for 
 granted, as he says, that he heard all that was said to Mr. 
 Colman in both cells, by Joseph, and by Frank ; and that 
 Joseph did not state particularly where the club was de- 
 posited ; and that he knew as much about the place of 
 deposit of the club, as Mr. Colman knew; why then, Mr. 
 Colman must either have been miraculously informed 
 respecting the club, or Phippen Knnpp has not told you 
 
 33 
 
410 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 the whole truth. There is no reconciling this, without 
 supposing Mr. Colman has misrepresented what took place 
 in Joseph's cell, as well as what took place in Frank's 
 cell. 
 
 Again, Phippen Knapp is directly contradicted by Mr. 
 Wheatland. Mr. ^Yheatland tells the same story as comino- 
 from Phippen Knapp, as Mr. Colman now tells. Here 
 there are two against one. Phippen Knapp says that 
 Frank made no confessions, and that he said he had none 
 to make. In this he is contradicted by Wheatland. He, 
 Phippen Knapp, told Wheatland, that Mr. Colman did ask 
 Frank some questions, and that Frank answered them. 
 He told him also what these answers were. Wheatland 
 does not recollect the questions or answers, but recollects 
 his reply ; which was, " Is not this p7'emature f I think 
 this answer is sufficient to make Frank a principal." 
 Here Phippen Knapp opposes himself to Wheatland, as 
 well as to Mr. Colman. Do you believe Phippen Knapp, 
 against these two respectable witnesses — or them against 
 him ? 
 
 Is not Mr. Colman's testimony credible, natural, and 
 proper ? To judge of this, you must go back to that scene. 
 
 The murder had been committed ; the two Knapps 
 were now arrested ; four persons were already in jail 
 supposed to be concerned in it, — the Crowninshields and 
 Selman and Chase. Another person to the eastward was 
 supposed to be in the plot ; it was important to learn the 
 facts. To do this, some one of those suspected must be 
 admitted to turn State's witness. The contest was, zvho 
 should have this privilege ? It was understood that it was 
 about to be offered to Palmer, then in Maine : there was 
 no good reason why he should have the preference. Mr. 
 Colman felt interested for the family of the Knapps, and 
 particularly for Joseph. He was a young man who had 
 
ON THE TKIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 411 
 
 hitherto sustained a fair standing in society ; he \\as a 
 husband. Mr. Colman was particularly intimate with his 
 family. With these views he went to the prison. He be- 
 lieved that he might safely converse with the prisoner, 
 because he thought confessions made to a clergyman were 
 sacred, and that he could not be called upon to disclose 
 them. He went, the first time, in the morning, and was 
 requested to come again. He went again at three o'clock; 
 and was requested to call again at five o'clock. In the 
 mean time he saw the father and Phippen, and they 
 wished he would not go again, because it would be said 
 the prisoners were making confession. He said he had en- 
 gaged to go again at five o'clock ; but would not, if Phip- 
 pen would excuse him to Joseph. Phippen engaged to do 
 this, and to meet him at his office at five o'clock. Mr. Col- 
 man went to the office at the time, and waited; but as Phip- 
 pen was not there, he walked down street and saw him 
 coming from the jail. He met him, and while in con- 
 versation, near the church, he saw M:-s. Beckford and 
 Mrs. Knapp, going in a chaise Dtward the jail. He 
 hastened to meet them, as he thought it not proper for 
 them to go in at that time. While conversing with tiiem 
 near the jail, he received two distinct messages from 
 Joseph, that he wished to see him. He thought it proper 
 to go : he then went to Joseph's cell, and while there it 
 was that the disclosures were made. Before Joseph had 
 finished his statement, Phippen came to the door ; he was 
 soon after admitted. A short interval ensued, and they 
 went together to the cell of Frank. Mr. Colman went in 
 by invitation of Phippen : he had come directly from the 
 cell of Joseph, where he had for the first time learned the 
 incidents of the tragedy. He was incredulous as to some 
 of the facts which he had learned, they were so different 
 from his previous impressions. He was desirous of know- 
 
412 SPEECHES OF DANIEL AVEBSTER. 
 
 ing whether he could place confidence in what Joseph had 
 told him — he therefore put the questions to Frank, as 
 he has testified before you; in answer to which, Frank 
 Knapp informed him, 
 
 1. " That the murder took place between ten and eleven 
 
 o'clock." 
 
 2. " That Richard Crowninshield was alone in the 
 
 house." 
 
 3. " That he, Frank Knapp, went home afterward." 
 
 4. " That the club was deposited under the steps of the 
 Howard Street meeting-house, and under the part nearest 
 the burying-ground, in a rat-hole," &c. 
 
 5. " That the dagger or daggers had been worked up at 
 the factory." 
 
 It is said that these five answers just fit the case ; that 
 they are just what was wanted, and neither more nor less. 
 True, they are, but the reason is, because truth always fits ; 
 truth is always congruous, and agrees with itself. Every 
 truth in the universe agrees with every other truth in the 
 universe ; whereas fals^ioods not only disagree with truths, 
 but usually quarrel among themselves. Surely Mr. Colman 
 is influenced by no bias — no prejudice ; he has no feelings 
 to warp him — except now, he is contradicted, he may feel 
 an interest to be believed. 
 
 If you believe Mr. Colman, then the evidence is fairly 
 
 in the case. 
 
 I shall now proceed on the ground that you do believe 
 Mr. Colman. 
 
 When told that Joseph had determined to confess, the 
 defendant said, " It is hard, or unfair, that Joseph should 
 have the benefit of confessing, since the thing was done for 
 his benefit." What thing was done for his benefit ? Does 
 not this carry an implication of the guilt of the defendant ? 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 413 
 
 Does it not show that he had a knowledge of the objec 
 and history of the murder ? 
 
 The defendant said, "he told Joseph, when he proposed 
 it, that it Avas a silly business, and would get us into 
 trouble." He knew, then, what this business was ; he 
 knew that Joseph proposed it, and that he agreed to it, 
 else he could not get us into trouble ; he understood its 
 bearing, and its consequences. Thus much was said under 
 circumstances, that make it clearly evidence against him,- 
 before there is any pretence of an inducement held out. 
 And does not this prove him to have had a knowledge of 
 the conspiracy ? 
 
 He knew the daggers had been destroyed, and he knew 
 who committed the murder. How could he hnve innocently 
 known these facts ? Why, if by Richard's story, this shows 
 him guilty of a knowledge of the murder, and of the con- 
 spiracy. More than all, he knew whe7i the deed was done, 
 and that he went home afterward. This shows his parti- 
 cipation in that deed. "Went home afterward." — Plome, 
 from what sceyie? — home, /rom tvhat fact? — home, from 
 what transaction ? — home, from tvhat i^lace f This con- 
 firms the supposition that the prisoner was in Brown Street 
 for the purposes ascribed to him. These questions were 
 directly put, and directly answered. He does not intimate 
 that he received the information from another. Noav, if he 
 knows the time, and went home afterward, and does not 
 excuse himself, — is not this an admission that he had a 
 hand in this murder? Already proved to be a conspirator 
 in the murder, he now confesses that he knew who did it — 
 at what time it was done, was himself out of his own house 
 at the time, and went home afterward. Is not this con- 
 clusive, if not explained ? Then comes the club. He told 
 where it was. This is like possession of stolen goods. He 
 is charged with the guilty knowledge of this concealment. 
 
 35* 
 
414 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 He must shcno, not say, how he came by this knowledge. 
 If a man be found with stolen goods, he must prove how 
 he came by them. The place of deposit of the club was 
 premeditated and selected, and he knew where it was. 
 
 Joseph Knapp was an accessory, and accessory only ; he 
 knew only what was told him. But the prisoner knew the 
 particular spot in which the club might be found. This 
 shows his knowledge something more than that of an ac- 
 cessory. 
 
 This presumption must be rebutted by evidence, or it 
 stands strong against him. He has too much knowledge 
 of this transaction, to have come innocently by it. It must 
 stand against him until he explains it. 
 
 This testimony of Mr. Colman is represented as new 
 matter, and therefore an attempt has been made to excite 
 a prejudice against it. It is not so. How little is there in 
 it, after all, that did not appear from other sources ! It is 
 mainly confirmatory. Compare what you learn from this 
 confession, with what you before knew. 
 
 As to its being proposed by Joseph : was not that true ? 
 
 As to Richard's being alone, &c. in the house : was not 
 that true? 
 
 As to the daggers : was not that true ? 
 
 As to the time of the murder : was not that true? 
 
 As to his being out that night: was not that true? 
 
 As to his returning afterward : was not that true ? 
 
 As to the club : was not that true ? 
 
 So this information confirms what was known before, and 
 fully confirms it. 
 
 One word, as to the interview between Mr. Colman and 
 Phippen Knapp on the turnpike. It is said that Mr. Col- 
 man's conduct ill this matter is inconsistent with his testi- 
 mony. There does not appear to me to be any incon- 
 sistency. He tells y(iU that his object was to save Joseph, 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 415 
 
 and to hurt no one ; and least of all the prisoner at the 
 bar. He had, probably, told Mr. White the substance of 
 what he heard at the prison. He had probably told him 
 that Frank co7}firmed what Joseph had confessed. He was 
 unwilling to be the instrument of harm to Frank. He 
 therefore, at the request of Phippen Knapp, wrote a note to 
 Mr. White, requesting him to consider Joseph as authority 
 for the information he had received. He tells you that this 
 is the only thing he has to regret ; as it may seem to be an 
 evasion, — as he doubts whether it was entirely correct. If 
 it was an evasion, if it was a deviation, if it was an error, 
 it was an error of mercy ; an error of kindness ; an error 
 that proves he had no hostility to the prisoner at the bar. 
 It does not in the least vary his testimony, or affect its 
 correctness. Gentlemen, I look on the evidence of Mr. 
 Colman as highly important; not as bringing into the 
 cause new facts, but as confirming, in a very satisfactory 
 manner, other evidence. It is incredible, that he can be 
 false, and that he is seeking the prisoner's life through 
 false swearing. If he is true, it is incredible that the pri- 
 soner can be innocent. 
 
 Gentlemen, I have gone through with the evidence in 
 this case, and have endeavored to state it plainly and 
 fairly, before you. I think there are conclusions to be 
 drawn from it, which you cannot doubt. I think you can- 
 not doubt, that there was a conspiracy formed for the pur- 
 pose of committing this murder, and who the conspirators 
 were. 
 
 That you cannot doubt, that the Crowninshields and the 
 Knapps were the parties in this conspiracy. 
 * That you cannot doubt, that the prisoner at the bar 
 knew that the murder was to be done on the night of the 
 6th of April. 
 
 That you cannot doubt, that the murderers of Captain 
 
416 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 White were the suspicious persons seen in and about 
 Brown Street on that night. 
 
 That you cannot doubt, that Richard Crowninshield was 
 the perpetrator of that crime. 
 
 That you cannot doubt, that the prisoner at the bar was 
 in Brown Street on that night. 
 
 If there, then it must be by agreement — to counte- 
 nance, to aid the perpetrator. And if so, then he is 
 guilty as principal. 
 
 Gentlemen, your whole concern should be to do your 
 duty, and leave consequences to take care of themselves. 
 You will receive the law from the court. Your verdict, it 
 is true, may endanger the prisoner's life ; but then it is to 
 save other lives. If the prisoner's guilt has been shown 
 and proved beyond all reasonable doubt, you will convict 
 him. If such reasonable doubts of guilt still remain, you 
 will acquit him. You are the judges of the whole case. 
 You owe a duty to the -public, as well as to the prisoner at 
 the bar. You cannot presume to be wiser than the law. 
 Your duty is a plain, straight-forward one. Doubtless, 
 we would all judge him in mercy. Toward him, as an 
 individual, the law inculcates no hostility ; but toward 
 him, if proved to be a murderer, the law, and the oaths 
 you have taken, and public justice, demand that you do 
 your duty. 
 
 With consciences satisfied with the discharge of duty, 
 no consequences can harm you. There is no evil that we 
 cannot either face or fly from, but the consciousness of 
 duty disregarded. 
 
 A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent, 
 like the Deity. If we take to ourselves the wings of 
 the morning and dwell in- the utmost parts of the seas, 
 duty performed, or duty violated, is still with us, for our 
 happiness, or our misery. If we say the darkness shall 
 
ON THE TRIAL OF J. F. KNAPP. 417 
 
 cover us, in the darkness as in the light, our obligations 
 are yet with us. We cannot escape their power, nor fly 
 from their presence. They are with us in this life, will be 
 with us at its close ; and in that scene of inconceivable 
 solemnity, which lies yet farther onward, we shall still 
 find ourselves surrounded by the consciousness of duty, to 
 pain us wherever it has been violated, and to console us 
 so far as God may have given us grace to perform it. 
 
ARGUMENT OF MR. WEBSTER 
 
 IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE 
 
 This argument was addressed to a jury in April, 1817, 
 on the occasion of the trial of Levi and Laban Kenniston, 
 in the Supreme Judicial Court of the Commonwealth of 
 Massachusetts, held at Ipswich, in the county of Essex, for 
 an alleged assault and robbery by Levi and Laban, on the 
 person of Major Elijah Putnam Goodridge, of Bangor, 
 Maine. 
 
 It was true (Mr. Webster said) that the offence charged 
 was not capital ; but perhaps this could hardly be con- 
 sidered as favorable to the defendants. To those who are 
 guilty, and without hope of escape, no doubt the lightness 
 of the penalty of transgression gives consolation. But if 
 ^he defendants were innocent, it was more natural for them 
 to be thinking upon what they had lost, by that alteration 
 of the law which had left highway robbery no longer capital, 
 than upon what the guilty might gain by it. They had lost 
 those great privileges, in their trial, which the law allows, 
 .in capital cases, for the protection of innocence against 
 unfounded accusation. They have lost the right of being 
 previously furnished with a copy of the indictment, and a 
 list of the Government's witnesses. They have lost the 
 right of peremptory challenge ; and, notwithstanding the 
 prejudices which they know have been excited against them, 
 they must show legal cause of challenge, in each individual 
 
 418 
 
AKGUxMENT IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 419 
 
 call, or else take the jury as they find it. They have lost 
 the benefit of the assignment of counsel by the court. They 
 have lost the benefit of the Commonwealth's process to 
 bring in witnesses in their behalf. When to these circum- 
 stances it was added that they were strangers, in a great 
 degree without friends, and without the means for pre- 
 paring their defence, it was evident they must take their 
 trial under great disadvantages. 
 
 Mr. Webster then called the attention of the jury to 
 those circumstances which he thought could not but cast 
 doubts on the story of the prosecutor. 
 
 In the first place, it was impossible to believe a robbery 
 of this sort to have been committed by three or four men 
 without previous arrangement and concert, and of course 
 without the -knowledge of the fact that Goodridge would 
 be there, and that he had money. They did not go on the 
 highway, in such a place, in a cold December's night, for 
 the general purpose of attacking the first passenger, run- 
 ning the chance of his being somebody who had money. It 
 was not easy to believe that a gang of robbers existed, that 
 they acted systematically, communicating intelligence to 
 one another, and meeting and dispersing as occasion re- 
 quired, and that this gang had their head-quarters in such 
 a place as Newburyport. No town is more distinguished 
 for the correctness of the general habits of its citizens ; 
 and it is of such a size that every man in it may be known 
 to all the rest. The pursuits, occupations, and habits of 
 every person within it are within the observation of his 
 neighbors. A suspicious stranger would be instantly ob- 
 served, and all his movements could be easily traced. This 
 is not the place to be the general rendezvous of a gang of 
 robbers. Offenders of this sort hang on the skirts of great 
 cities. From the commission of their crimes they hasten 
 into the crowd, and hide themselves in the populousness of 
 
420 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 great cities. If it were wholly improbable that a gang 
 existed in such a place for the purpose of general plunder, 
 the next inquiry was, Was there any reason to think that 
 there had been a special or particular combination, for the 
 single purpose of robbing the prosecutor? Now, it was 
 material to observe, that not only was there no evidence 
 of any such combination, but also that circumstances did 
 exist which rendered it next to impossible that the defend- 
 ants could have been parties to such a combination, or even 
 that they could have any knowledge of the existence of 
 any such man as Goodridge, or that any person, with 
 money, was expected to come from the eastward, and to 
 be near Essex bridge, at or about nine o'clock that evening. 
 One of the defendants had been for some weeks in 
 Newburyport — the other passed the bridge from New 
 Hampshire, at twelve o'clock, on the 19th. At this time, 
 Goodridge had not yet arrived at Exeter, twelve or four- 
 teen miles from the bridge. How, then, could either of 
 the defendants know that he was coming? Besides, he 
 says that nobody knew, on the road, that he had money, 
 as far as he knows, and nothing happened till he reached 
 Exeter, according to his account, from which it might be 
 conjectured that he carried money. Here, as he relates 
 it, it became known that he had pistols ; and he must 
 wish you to infer, that the plan to rob him was laid here, 
 at Exeter, by some of the persons who inferred that he 
 had money from his being armed. Who were these per- 
 sons ? Certainly not the defendants, or either of them. 
 Certainly not Taber. Certainly not Jackman. Were 
 they persons of suspicious character ? Was he in a house 
 of a suspicious character ? On this point he gives us no 
 information. He has either not taken the pains to in- 
 quire, or he chooses not to communicate the result of his 
 inquiries. Yet nothing could be more important, since he 
 
ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRIBGE CASE. 421 
 
 seems compelled to lay the scene of the plot against him 
 at Exeter, than to know who the persons were that hv 
 saw, or that saw hhn, at that place. On the face of the 
 facts now proved, nothing could be more improbable than 
 that the plan of robbery was concerted at Exeter. If so, 
 why should those who concerted send forward to New- 
 buryport to engage the defendants, especially as they did 
 not know that they were there ? What should induce any 
 persons so suddenly to apply to the defendants to assist in 
 a robbery ? There was nothing in their personal charac- 
 ter or previous history that should induce this. 
 
 Nor was there time for all this. If the prosecutor had 
 not lingered on the road, for reasons not yet discovered, 
 he must have been in Newburyport long before the time at 
 which he states the robbery to have been committed. 
 How, then, could any one expect to leave Exeter, come to 
 Newburyport, fifteen miles, there look out for and find out 
 assistants for a highway robbery, and get back two miles 
 to a convenient place for the commission of the crime ? 
 That anybody should have undertaken to act thus, was 
 wholly improbable ; and in point of fact there is not the 
 least proof of anybody's travelling, that afternoon, from 
 Exeter to Newburyport, or of any person who was at the 
 tavern at Exeter having left it that afternoon. In all 
 probability, nothing of this sort could have taken place 
 without being capable of detection and proof. In every 
 particular the prosecutor has wholly failed to show the 
 least probability of a plan to rob him having been laid at 
 Exeter. 
 
 But how comes it, that Goodridge was near or quite 
 four hours and a half in travelling a distance which might 
 have been travelled in two hours or two hours and a half? 
 He says he missed his way, and went the Salisbury road. 
 But some of the jury know, that this could not have 
 
 36 
 
422 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 delayed him more than five or ten minutes. It would 
 be well to be able to give some better account of this 
 delay. 
 
 Failing, as he seems to do, to create any belief that a 
 plan to rob him was fixed at Exeter, the prosecutor goes 
 back to Alfred, and says he saw there a man whom Taber 
 resembles. But Taber is proved to have been at that 
 time, and ac the time of the robbery, in Boston. This is 
 proved beyond question. It is so certain, that the soli- 
 citor has non jJrossed the indictment against him. 
 
 There is an end, then, of all pretence of the adoption 
 of a scheme of robbery at Alfred : this leaves the pro- 
 secutor altogether unable to point out any manner in 
 which it should become known that he had money, or in 
 which a design to rob him should originate. 
 
 It was next to be considered whether the prosecutor's 
 story was either natural or consistent. But, in the 
 threshold of the inquiry, every one puts the question, 
 What motive had the prosecutor to be guilty of the 
 abominable conduct of feigning a robbery ? It is diffi- 
 cult to assign motives. The jury did not know enough 
 of his character or circumstances. Such things had 
 happened, and might happen again. Suppose he owed 
 money in Boston, and had it not to pay ? Who knows 
 how high he might estimate the value of a plausible 
 apology ? Some men have also a whimsical ambition of 
 distinction. There is no end to the variety of modes in 
 which human vanity exhibits itself. A story of this na- 
 ture excites the public sympathy. It attracts general at- 
 tention. It causes the name of the prosecutor to be 
 celebrated as a man who has been attacked, and, after a 
 manly resistance, overcome by robbers, and who has re- 
 newed his resistance as soon as returning life and sensa- 
 tion enabled him, and, after a second conflict, has been 
 
ARGUMENT IX THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 423 
 
 quite subdued, beaten and bruised out of all sense and 
 sensation, and finally left for dead on the field. It is not 
 easy to say how far such motives, trifling and ridiculous as 
 most men would think them, might influence the prose- 
 cutor, when connected with any expectation of favor or in- 
 dulgence, if he wanted such, from his creditors. It was 
 to be remembered, that he probably did not see all the 
 consequences of his conduct, if his robbery be a pretence. 
 He might not intend to prosecute anybody. But he pro- 
 bably found, and indeed there is evidence to show, that it 
 was necessary for him to do something to find out the 
 authors of the alleged robbery. He manifested no par- 
 ticular zeal on this subject. He was in no haste. He 
 appears rather to have been pressed by others to do that 
 which we should suppose he would be most earnest to do, 
 the earliest moment. 
 
 But could he so seriously wound himself ? could he or 
 would he shoot a pistol-bullet through his hand, in order to 
 render the robbery probable, and to obtain belief in his 
 story ? All exhibitions are subject to accidents. Whether 
 they are serious or farcical, they may, in some particulars, 
 not proceed exactly as they are designed to do. If we 
 knew that this shot through the hand, if made by him- 
 self, must have been intentionally made by himself, it would 
 be a circumstance of greater weight. The bullet went 
 through the sleeve of his coat. He might intend it 
 should have gone through nothing else. It was quite cer- 
 tain he did not receive this wound in the way he described. 
 He says he was pulling or thrusting aside the robber's 
 pistol, and while his hand was on it, it was fired, and the 
 contents passed through his hand. This could not have 
 been so, because no part of the contents went through the 
 hand, except the ball. There was powder on the sleeve 
 of his coat, and from the appearance one would think the 
 
424 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 pistol to have been three or four feet from the haiifl \\]tcn 
 fired. The fact of the pistol-bullet being fired through the 
 hand is doubtless a circumstance of weight. It may not 
 be easy to account for it ; but it is to be weighed with other 
 circumstances. 
 
 It was most extraordinary, that, in the whole case, the 
 prosecutor should prove hardly any fact in any way but by 
 his own oath. He chooses to trust every thing on his own 
 credit with the jury. Had he the money with him, which 
 he mentions ? If so, his clerks or persons connected with 
 him in business must have known it ; yet no witness is pro- 
 duced. Nothing can be more important than to prove that 
 he had the money. Yet he does not prove it. Why should 
 he leave this essential fact without further support? He 
 is not surprised with this defence : he knew what it would 
 be. He knew that nothing could be more important than 
 to prove that in truth he did possess the money which he 
 says he lost ; yet he does not prove it. All that he saw, 
 and all that he did, and every thing that occurred to him 
 until after the alleged robbery, rests solely on his own 
 credit. He does not see fit to corroborate any fact by the 
 testimony of any vritness. So he went to New York to 
 arrest Jackman. He did arrest him. He swears positively 
 that he found in his possession papers which he lost at the 
 time of the robbery ; yet he neither produces the papers 
 themselves, nor the persons who assisted in the search. 
 
 In like manner he represents his intercourse with Taber 
 at Boston. Taber, he says, made certain confessions. 
 They made a bargain for a disclosure or confession on one 
 side, and a reward on the other. But no one heard these 
 confessions except Goodridge himself. Taber now con- 
 fronts him, and pronounces this part of the story to be 
 wholly false; and there is nobody who can support the 
 prosecutor. 
 
ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 425 
 
 A jury cannot too seriously reflect on this part of the 
 case. There are many most important allegations of fact, 
 which, if true, could easily be shown by other witnesses, 
 and yet are not so shown. 
 
 How came Mr. Goodridge to set out from Bangor, armed 
 in this formal and formidable manner ? How came he to 
 be so apprehensive of a robbery? The reason he gives is 
 completely ridiculous. As the foundation of his alarm, he 
 tells a story of a robbery which he had heard of, but which, 
 as far as appears, no one else ever heard of; and the story 
 itself is so perfectly absurd, it is difficult to resist the belief 
 that it was the product of his imagination at the moment. 
 He seems to have been a little too confident that an attempt 
 would be made to rob him. The manner in which he carried 
 his money, as he says, indicated a strong expectation of 
 this sort. His gold he wrapped in a cambric cloth, put it 
 into a shot-bag, and then into his portmanteau. One 
 parcel of bills, of a hundred dollars in amount, he put into 
 his pocket-book ; another, of somewhat more than a thou- 
 sand dollars, he carried next his person, underneath all 
 his clothes. Having disposed of his money in this way, 
 and armed himself with two good pistols, he set out from 
 Bangor. The jury would judge v/hether this extraordinary 
 care of his money, and this formal arming of himself to 
 defend it, did not appear a good deal suspicious. 
 
 He stated that he did not travel in the night ; that he 
 would not so much expose himself to robbers. He said 
 that, when he came near Alfred, he did not go into the 
 village, but stopped a few miles short, because night was 
 coming on, and he would not trust himself and his money 
 out at night. He represents himself to have observed this 
 rule constantly and invariably until he got to Exeter. Yet, 
 when the time came for the robbery, lie was found out at 
 night. He left Exeter about sunset, intending to go to 
 
 36* 
 
126 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 Newburyport, fifteen miles distant, that evening. When 
 he is asked how this should happen, he says he had no fear 
 of robbers after he left the District of Maine. He thought 
 himself quite safe when he arrived at Exeter. Yet he told 
 tlie jury that at Exeter he thought it necessary to load his 
 pistol afresh. He asked for a private room at the inn. He 
 told the persons in attendance that he wished such a room 
 for the purpose of changing his clothes. He charged them 
 not to suffer him to be interrupted. But he says his object 
 was not to change his dress, but to put new loading into his 
 pistol. What sort of a story is this ? 
 
 He says he now felt himself out of all danger from rob- 
 bers, and was therefore willing to travel at night. At the 
 same time, he thought himself in very great danger from 
 robbers, and therefore took the utmost pains to keep his 
 pistols well loaded and in good order. To account for the 
 pains he took about loading his pistols at Exeter, he says 
 it was his invariable practice, every day after he left Ban- 
 gor, to discharge and load again one or both of his pistols ; 
 that he never missed doing this ; that he avoided doing it 
 at the inns, lest he should create suspicion, but that he did 
 it, while alone, on the road, every day. 
 
 How far this was probable the jury would judge. It 
 ■would be observed that he gave up his habits of caution as 
 he approached the place of the robbery. He then loaded 
 his pistols at the tavern, where persons might and did see 
 him ; and he then also travelled in the night. He passed 
 the bridge over Merrimack River a few minutes before 
 nine o'clock. He was now at a part of his progress where 
 he was within the observation of other witnesses, and 
 something could be known of him besides Avhat he told of 
 himself. Immediately after him passed the two persons 
 vnth their wagons — Shaw and Keyser. Close upon them 
 followed the mail-stage. Now, these wagons and the stage 
 
ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 427 
 
 must have passed within three rods, at most, of Goodridge, 
 at the very time of the robbery. They must have been 
 very near the spot, the very moment of the attack ; and 
 if he was under the robbers' hands as long as he repre- 
 sents, or if they stayed on the spot long enough to do half 
 what he says they did do, they must have been there 
 when the wagons and the stage passed. At any rate, it is 
 next to impossible, by any computation of time, to put 
 these carriages so far from the spot, as that the drivers 
 should not have heard the cry of murder, which he says he 
 raised, or the report of the two pistols, which he says were 
 discharged. In three-quarters of an hour, or an hour, he 
 returned, and repassed the bridge. 
 
 The jury would next naturally look to the appearances 
 exhibited on the field, after the robbery. The portman- 
 teau was there. The witnesses say, that the straps which 
 fastened it to the saddle had been neither cut nor broken. 
 They were carefully uubuckled. This was very con- 
 siderate for robbers. It had been opened, and its con- 
 tents were scattered about the field. The pocket-book, 
 too, had been opened, and many papers it contained found 
 on the ground. Nothing valuable was lost but money. 
 The robbers did not think it well to go ofi" at once with 
 the portmanteau and the pocket-book. The place was so 
 secure, so remote, so unfrequented — they were so far 
 from the highway, at least one full rod — there were so 
 few persons passing, probably not more than four or five 
 then in the road, within hearing of the pistols ai'.d the 
 cries of Goodridge — there being, too, not above five or 
 six dwelling-houses, full of people, within the hearing of 
 the report of a pistol ; — these circumstances were all so 
 favorable to their safety, that the robbers sat down to look 
 over the prosecutor's papers, carefully examined the con- 
 tents of. his pocket-book and portmanteau, and took only 
 
428 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 the things which they needed ! There was money belong- 
 ing to other persons. The robbers did not take it. They 
 found out it was not the prosecutor's, and left it. It may 
 be said to be favorable to the prosecutor's story, that the 
 money which did not belong to him, and the plunder of 
 which would seem to be the most probable inducement he 
 could have to feign a robbery, was not taken. But the 
 jury would consider whether this circumstance did not bear 
 quite as strong the other way, and Avhether they can be- 
 lieve that robbers could have left this money either from 
 accident or design. 
 
 The robbers, by Goodridge's account, were extremely 
 careful to search his person. Having found money in his 
 portmanteau and in his pocket-book, they still forthwith 
 stripped him to the skin, and searched until they found 
 the sum which had been so carefully deposited under his 
 clothes. Was it likely, that, having found money in the 
 places where it is ordinarily carried, robbers should pro- 
 ceed to search for more, where they had no reason to sup- 
 pose more would be found ? Goodridge says that no 
 person knew of his having put his bills in that situation. 
 On the first attack, however, they proceeded to open one 
 garment after another, until they penetrated to the trea- 
 sure, which was beneath them all. 
 
 The testimony of Mr. Howard was material. He exa- 
 mined Goodridge's pistol, which was found on the spot, 
 and thinks it had not been fired at all. If this be so, it 
 would follow that the wound through the hand was not 
 made by this pistol ; but, then, as the pistol was then dis- 
 charged, if it had not been fired, he is not correct in 
 swearing that he fired it at the robbers, nor could it have 
 been loaded at Exeter, as he testified. 
 
 In the whole case, there was nothing perhaps more de- 
 serving consideration, than the prosecutor's statement of 
 
ARGUMENT IN THE GOODllIDGE CASE. 429 
 
 the violence which the robhers used toward him. He says 
 he was struck with a heavy club, on the back part of his 
 head. He fell senseless to the ground. Three or four 
 rough-handed ruffians then dragged him to the fence, and 
 through it or over it, with such force as to break one of 
 the boards. They then plundered his money. Presently 
 he came to his senses ; perceived his situation ; saw" one 
 of the robbers sitting or standing near : he valiantly 
 sprung upon, and would have overcome him, but the ruf- 
 fian called out for his comrades, who returned, and all 
 together they renewed their attack upon, subdued him, 
 and redoubled their violence. They struck him heavy 
 blows ; they threw him violently to the ground ; they 
 kicked him in the side ; they choked him ; one of them, 
 to use his own words, jumped upon his breast. They left 
 him only when they supposed they- had killed him. He 
 went back to Pearson's, at the bridge, in a state of de- 
 lirium, and it was several hours before his recollection 
 came to him. This is his account. Now, in point of fact, 
 it was certain that on no part of his person was there the 
 least mark of this beating and wounding. The blow on 
 the head, which brought him senseless to the ground, 
 neither broke the skin, nor caused any tumor, nor left any 
 mark whatever. He fell from his horse on the frozen 
 ground, without any appearance of injury. He was drawn 
 through or over the fence with such force as to break the 
 rail, but not at all to leave any wound or scratch on him. 
 A second time he is knocked down, kicked, stamped 
 upon, choked, and in every way abused and beaten till 
 sense had departed, and the breath of life hardly re- 
 I mained ; and yet no wound, bruise, discoloration, or mark 
 of injury, was found to result from all this. Except the 
 wound in his hand, and a few slight punctures in his left 
 arm, apparently made with his own penknife, which was 
 
4-^0 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 found open on the spot, there was no wound or mark 
 which the surgeons, upon repeated examinations, could 
 anywhere discover. This was a story not to he believed. 
 No matter who tells it, it is so impossible to be true, that 
 all belief is set at defiance. No man can believe it. All 
 this tale of blows which left no marks, and of wounds which 
 could not be discovered, must be the work of imagination. 
 If the jury could believe that he was robbed, it was im- 
 possible they should or could believe his account of the 
 manner of it. 
 
 With respect, next, to delirium. The jury had heard 
 the physicians. Two of them had no doubt it was all 
 feigned. Dr. Spofford had spoken in a more qualified man- 
 ner, but it was very evident his opinion agreed with theirs. 
 In the height of his raving, the physician who was present 
 said to others, that he- could find nothing the matter of the 
 man, and that his pulse was perfectly regular. But con- 
 sider the facts which Dr. Balch testifies. He suspected the 
 whole of this illness and delirium to be feigned. He wished 
 to ascertain the truth. While he or others was present, 
 Goodridge appeared to be in the greatest pains and agony 
 from his wounds. He could not turn himself in bed, nor 
 be turned by others, without infinite distress. His mind, 
 too, was as much disordered as his body. He was con- 
 stantly raving about robbery and murder. At length the 
 physicians and others withdrew, and left him alone in the 
 room. Dr. Balch returned softly to the door, which he had 
 left partly open, and there he had a full view of his patient,, 
 unobserved by him. Goodridge was then very quiet. His 
 incoherent exclamations had ceased. Dr. Balch saw him 
 turn over in bed without inconvenience. Pretty soon he 
 sat up in bed, and adjusted his neckcloth and his hair. 
 Then, hearing footsteps on the staircase, he instantly 
 sunk into the bed again ; his pains all returned, and he 
 
ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 431 
 
 cried out against robbers and murderers as loud as ever. 
 Now, these facts are all sworn to by an intelligent witness, 
 who cannot be mistaken in them — a respectable physician, 
 whose veracity or accuracy is in no way impeached or 
 questioned. After this, it was difficult to retain any good 
 opinion of the prosecutor. Robbed or not robbed, this 
 was his conduct ; and such conduct necessarily takes away 
 all claim to sympathy and respect. The jury would con- 
 sider whether it did not also take away all right to be 
 believed in any thing. For if they should be of opinion 
 that in any one point he had intentionally misrepresented 
 facts, he could be believed in nothing. No man was to be 
 convicted on the testimony of a witness whom the jury had 
 found wilfully violating the truth in any particular. 
 
 The next part of the case was, the conduct of the pro- 
 secutor, in attempting to find out the robbers, after he had 
 recovered from his illness. He suspected Mr. Pearson, a 
 very honest, respectable man, who keeps the tavern at the 
 bridge. He searched his house and premises. He sent for 
 a conjurer to come, with his metallic rods and witch-hazel, 
 to find the stolen money. Goodridge says now that he 
 thought he should find it, if the conjurer's instruments 
 were properly prepared. He professes to have full faith 
 in the art. Was this folly, or fraud, or a strange mixture 
 of both? Pretty soon after the last search, gold pieces 
 were actually found near Mr. Pearson's house, in the man- 
 ner stated by the female witness. How came they there ? 
 Did the robber deposit them there ? That is not possible. 
 Did he accidentally leave them there ? Why should not a 
 robber take as good care of his money as others ? It is 
 certain, too, that the gold pieces were not put there at the 
 time of the robbery, because the ground was then bare ; 
 but when these pieces were found, there were several inches 
 of snow below them. When Goodridge searched here with 
 
432 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 his conjurer, he was on this spot, alone and unobserved, as 
 he thought. Whether he did not, at that time, drop his 
 gold into the snow, the jury will judge. When he came 
 to this search, he proposed something very ridiculous. He 
 proposed that all persons about to assist in the search 
 should be examined, to see that they had nothing which 
 they could put into Pearson's possession, for the purpose of 
 being found there. But how was this examination to be made ? 
 Why, truly, Goodridge proposed that every man should exa- 
 mine himself, and that, among others, he would examine 
 himself, till he was satisfied he had nothing in his pockets, 
 which he could leave at Pearson's, with the fraudulent de- 
 sign of being afterward found there, as evidence against Pear- 
 son. What construction would be given to such conduct ? 
 
 As to Jackman, Goodridge went to New York arid 
 arrested him. In his room he says he found paper cover- 
 ings of gold, with his own figures on them, and pieces of 
 an old and useless receipt, which he can identify, and 
 which he had in his possession at the time of the robbery. 
 He found these things lying on the floor in Jackman's 
 room. What should induce the robbers, when they left all 
 other papers, to take this receipt? and what should induce 
 Jackman to carry it to New York, and keep it with the 
 coverings of the gold, in a situation where it was likely to 
 be found, and used as evidence against him ? 
 
 There was no end to the series of improbabilities grow- 
 ing out of the prosecutor's story. 
 
 Ore thing especially deserves notice. Wherever Good- 
 ridge searches, he always finds something ; and what he 
 finds, he always can identify and swear to, as being his. 
 The thing found has always some marks by which he 
 knows it. Yet he never finds much. He never finds the 
 mass of his lost treasure. He finds just enough to be evi- 
 dence, and no more. 
 
ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 433 
 
 These were the circumstances which tended to raise 
 doubts of the truth of the prosecutor's relation. It was 
 for the jury to say, whether it would be safe to convict 
 any man for this robbery, until their doubts should be 
 cleared up. No doubt they were to judge him candidly ; 
 but they were not to make every thing yield to a regard to 
 his reputation, or a desire to vindicate him from the sus- 
 picion of a fraudulent prosecution. 
 
 He stood like other witnesses, except that he was a very 
 interested witness ; and he must hope for credit, if at all, 
 from the consistency pnd general probability of the facts 
 to which he testified.. The jury would not convict the 
 prisoners to save the prosecutor from disgrace. He had 
 had every opportunity of making out his case. If any 
 person in the State could have corroborated any part of 
 his story, that person he could have produced. He had 
 had the benefit of full time, and good counsel, and of the 
 Commonwealth's process to bring in his witnesses. More 
 than all, he had had an opportunity of telling his own 
 story, with the simplicity " that belongs to truth, if it were 
 true, and the frankness and earnestness of an honest man, 
 if he be such. It was for the jury to say, under their 
 oaths, how he had acquitted himself in these particulars, 
 and whether he had left their minds free of doubt about 
 the truth of his narration. 
 
 But if Goodridge were really robbed, was there satis- 
 factory evidence that the defendants had a hand in the 
 commission of this oifence ? The evidence relied on is the 
 finding of the money in their house. It appeared thnt 
 these defendants lived together, and, with a sister, con- 
 stituted one family. Their father lived in another part 
 of the same house, and with his wife constituted another 
 and distinct family. In this house, some six weeks after 
 
 37 
 
484 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 the robbei'j, the prosecutor made a search ; and the re- 
 sult has been stated by the witnesses. Now, if the money 
 had been passed, or used by the defendants, it might have 
 been conclusive. If found about their persons, it might 
 have been very strong proof. But, under the circum- 
 stances of this case, the mere finding of money in their 
 house, and that only in places where the prosecutor had 
 previously been, was no evidence at all. With respect to 
 the gold pieces, it was certainly true, that they were found 
 in Goodridge's track. They were found only where he 
 had been, and might have put them. 
 
 When the sheriff was in the house, and Goodridge in 
 the cellar, gold was found in the cellar. When the sheriif 
 was up stairs, and Goodridge in the rooms below, the 
 sheriflF was called down to look for money where Go(5d- 
 ridge directed, and there money was found. As to the 
 bill, the evidence is not quite so clear. Mr. Leavitt says 
 he found a bill, in a di'awer, in a room in wdiich none of 
 the party had before been ; that he thought it an un- 
 current or counterfeit bill, and not a part of Goodridge's 
 money, and left it where he found it, without further 
 notice. An hour or tw^o afterward, Upton perceived a bill 
 in the same drawer, — Goodridge being then with or near 
 him, — and called to Leavitt. Leavitt told him that he 
 had discovered that bill before, but that it could not be 
 Goodridge's. The bill was then examined. Leavitt says 
 he looked at it, and saw writing on the back of it. Upton 
 says he looked at it, and saw writing on the back of it. 
 He says also that it was showm to Goodridge, who exa- 
 mined it in the same way that he and Leavitt examined 
 it. None of the party at this time suspected it to be 
 Goodridge's. It was then put into Leavitt's pocket-book, 
 where it remained till evening, when it was taken out at 
 
ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 405 
 
 the tavern ; and then it turned out to be, plainly an§ 
 clearly, one of Goodridge's bills, and had the name of 
 "James Poor, Bangor," in Goodridge's own handwriting, 
 on the back of it. The first thing that strikes one, in 
 this account, is, why was not this discovery made at the 
 time ? Goodridge was looking for bills, as well as gold. 
 He was looking for Boston bills— for such he had lost. He 
 was looking for ten-dollar bills— for such he had lost. He 
 was looking for bills which he could recognise and identify. 
 He would, therefore, naturally be particularly attentive to 
 any writing or marks upon such as he might find. Under 
 these circumstances, a bill is found in the house of the 
 supposed robbers. It is a Boston bill— it is a ten-dollar 
 bill— it has writing on the back of it— that writing is the 
 
 name of his town, and the name of one of his neighbors 
 
 more than all, that writing is his own handwriting ! 
 
 notwithstanding all this, neither Goodridge, nor Upton, 
 nor the sheriff, examined the bill, so as to see whether it 
 was Goodridge's money. Notwithstanding it so fully re- 
 sembled, in all points, the money they were looking for, 
 and notwithstanding they also saw waiting on the back of 
 it, which they must know, if they read it, would probably 
 have shown where the bill came from, yet neither of them 
 did so far examine it as to see any proof of its being 
 Goodridge's. This was hardly to be believed. It must 
 be a pretty strong faith in the prosecutor that could credit 
 this story. In every part of it, it was improbable and 
 absurd. It was much more easy to believe, that the bill 
 was changed. There might have been, and there pro- 
 bably was, an uncurrent or counterfeit bill found in the 
 drawer by Leavitt. He certainly did not at the time 
 think it to be Goodridge's, and he left it in the drawer 
 where he found it. Before he saw it again, the prosecutor 
 
436 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 had been in that room, and was in or near it when the 
 sheriff was again called in, and asked to put that hill in 
 his pocket-book. How did the jury know, that this was 
 the same bill which Leavitt had before seen ? Or, suppose 
 it was : Leavitt carried it to Coffin's ; in the evening ho 
 produced it, and, after having been handed about for some 
 time among the company, it turned out to be Goodridge's 
 bill, and to have upon it infallible marks of identity. 
 How did the jury know, that a sleight of hand had not 
 changed the bill at Coffin's ? It is sufficient to say, the 
 bill might have been changed. It is not certain, that this 
 is the bill which Leavitt first found in the drawer — and 
 this not being certain, it is not proof against the de- 
 fendants. 
 
 Was it not extremely improbable, if the defendants were 
 guilty, that they should deposit the money in the places 
 where it was found ? Why should they put it in small 
 parcels in so many places, for no end but to multiply the 
 chances of detection ? Why, especially, should they put 
 a doubloon in their father's pocket-book? There is no 
 evidence, nor any ground of suspicion, that the father 
 knew of the money being in his pocket-book. He swears 
 he did not know it. His general character is unimpeached, 
 and there is nothing against his credit. The inquiry at 
 Stratham was calculated to elicit the truth ; and, after all, 
 there is not the slightest reason to suspect that he knew 
 that the doubloon was in his pocket-book. What could 
 possibly induce the defendants to place it there ? No man 
 can conjecture a reason. On the other hand, if this were 
 a fraudulent proceeding on the part of the prosecutor, this 
 circumstance could be explained. He did not know that 
 the pocket-book, and the garment in which it was found, 
 did not belong to one of the defendants. He was as 
 
ARGUMENT IN THE GOODItlDGE CASE. 437 
 
 lil<clj. therefore, to place it there as elsewhere. It was 
 very material to consider that nothing was found in that 
 part of tlie house which belonged to the defendants. 
 Every thing was discovered in the father's apartments. 
 They were not found, therefore, in the possession of the 
 defendants, any more than if they had been discovered in 
 any other house in the neighborhood. The two tenements, 
 it was true, were under the same roof; but they were not 
 on that account the same tenements : they were as dis- 
 tinct as any other houses. Now, how should it happen 
 that the several parcels of money should all be found in 
 the father's possession ? He is not suspected — certainly 
 there is no reason to suspect him — of having had any hand 
 either in the commission of the robbery, or the concealing 
 of the goods. He swears he had no knowledge of any part 
 of this money being in his house. It is not easy to 
 imagine how it came there, unless it be supposed to be put 
 there by some one who did not know what part of the 
 house belonged to the defendants, and what did not. 
 
 The witnesses on the part of the prosecution have testi- 
 fied that the defendants, when arrested, manifested great 
 agitation and alarm ; paleness overspread their faces, and 
 drops of sweat stood on their temples. This satisfied the 
 witnesses of the defendants' guilt, and they now state the 
 circumstance as being indubitable proof. This argument 
 manifests in those who use it equal want of sehse and sen- 
 sibility. It is precisely fitted to the feeling and the intel- 
 lect of a bum-bailiff. In a court of justice it deserves 
 nothing but contempt. Is there nothing that can agitate 
 the frame, or excite the blood, but the consciousness of 
 guilt ? If the defendants were innocent, would they not 
 feel indignation at this unjust accusation? If they saw an 
 attempt to produce false evidence against them, would 
 
 37* 
 
438 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 they not be angry? And, seeing the production of such 
 evidence, might they not feel fear and alarm? And have 
 indignation, and anger, and terror, no power to affect the 
 human countenance, or the human frame ? 
 
 Miserable, miserable, indeed, is the reasoning which 
 would infer any man's guilt from his agitation, when he 
 found himself accused of a heinous offence; when he saw 
 evidence, which he might know to be false and fraudulent, 
 brought against him; when his house was filled, from the 
 garret to the cellar, by those whom he might esteem as 
 false witnesses ; and when he himself, instead of being at 
 liberty to observe their conduct and watch their motions, 
 was a prisoner in close custody in his own house, with the 
 fists of a catch-poll clenched upon his throat. 
 
 The defendants were at Newburyport the afternoon and 
 evening of the robbery. For the greater part of the time, 
 they show where they were and what they were doing. 
 Their proof, it is true, does not apply to every moment. 
 But when it is considered that, from the moment of their 
 arrest, they have been in close prison, perhaps they have 
 shown as much as could be expected. Few men, when 
 called on afterward, can remember, and fewer still can 
 prove, how they have passed every half-hour of an evening. 
 At a reasonable hour they both came to the house where 
 Laban had lodged the night before. Nothing suspicious 
 was observed in their manners or conversation. Is it pro- 
 bable they would thus come unconcernedly into the com- 
 pany of others from a field of robbery, and, as they must 
 have supposed, of murder, before they could have ascer- 
 tained whether the stain of blood was not on their gar- 
 ments ? They remained in the place a part of the next 
 day. The town was alarmed ; a strict inquiry was made 
 of all strangers, and of the defendants, among others. 
 
ARGUMENT IN THE GOODRIDGE CASE. 439 
 
 Nothing suspicious was discovered. They avoided no 
 inquiry, nor left the town in any haste. The jury had 
 had an opportunity of seeing the defendants. Did their 
 general appearance indicate that hardihood which would 
 enable them to act this cool, unconcerned part ? Was it 
 not more likely they would have fled ? 
 
 From the time of the robbery to the arrest, five or six 
 weeks, the defendants had been engaged in their usual oc- 
 cupations. They are not found to have passed a dollar of 
 money to anybody. They continued their ordinary habits 
 of labor. No man saw money about them, nor any cir- 
 cumstance that might lead to a suspicion that they had 
 money. Nothing occurred tending in any degree to excite 
 suspicion against them. When arrested, and when all this 
 array of evidence was made against them, and when they 
 could hope in nothing but their innocence, immunity was 
 offered them again if they would confess. They were 
 pressed, and urged, and allured, by every motive which 
 could be set before them, to acknowledge their participa- 
 tion in the offence, and to bring out their accomplices. 
 They steadily protested that they could confess nothing, 
 because they knew nothing. In defiance of all the dis- 
 coveries made in their house, they have trusted to their 
 innocence. On that, and on the candor and discernment 
 of an enlightened jury, they still relied. 
 
 If the jury were satisfied, that there was the highest 
 improbability that these persons could have had any pre- 
 vious knowledge of Goodridge, or been concerned in any 
 previous concert to rob him ; if their conduct that evening 
 and the next day was marked by no circumstances of sus- 
 picion ; if, from that moment until their arrest, nothing 
 appeared against them ; if they neither passed money, nor 
 are found to have had money ; if the manner of the search 
 
440 SPEECHES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 of their house, and the circumstances attending it, excite 
 strong suspicions of unfair and fraudulent practices ; if, in 
 the hour of their utmost peril, no promises of safety could 
 draw from the defendants any confessions affecting them- 
 selves or others, — it would be for the jury to say whether 
 they could pronounce them guilty. 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES, 
 
 Tuesday, December 14, 1852. 
 
 After various topics of the Message of the President 
 •had been referred to the appropriate committees, Mr. 
 Davis rose, and addressed the Senate as follows : 
 
 Mr. President : I rise to bring to the notice of the 
 Senate an event which has touched the sensibilities and 
 awakened sympathies in all parts of the country, an event 
 which has appropriately found a place in the message of 
 the President, and ought not to be passed in silence by the 
 Senate. Sir, we have, within a short space, mourned the 
 death of a succession of men illustrious by their services, 
 their talents, and worth. Not only have seats in this 
 Chamber, in the other House, and upon the bench of tho 
 Court, been vacated, but death has entered the Executive 
 Mansion and claimed that beloved patriot who filled the 
 Chair of State. 
 
 The portals of the tomb had scarcely closed upon the 
 remains of a great and gifted member of this House, before 
 they are again opened to receive another marked man of 
 our day — one who stood out with a singular prominence 
 before his countrymen, challenging, by* his extraordinary 
 intellectual power, the admiration of his fellow-men. 
 
 Daniel Webster, (a name familiar in the remotest cabin 
 upon the frontier,) after mixing actively with the councils 
 
 441 
 
442 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 of his country for forty years, and having reached the 
 limits of life assigned to mortals, has descended to the 
 mansions of the dead, and the damp earth now rests upon 
 his manly form. 
 
 That magic voice, which was wont to fill this place with 
 admiring listeners, is hushed in eternal silence. The mul- 
 titude will no longQA" bend in breathless attention from the 
 galleries to catch his words, and to watch the speaking 
 eloquence of his countenance, animated by the fervor of 
 his mind ; nor will the Senate again be instructed by the 
 outpourings of his profound intellect, matured by long 
 experience, and enriched by copious streams from the j 
 
 fountains of knoAvledge. The thread of life is cut; the I 
 
 immortal is separated from the mortal ; and the products | 
 
 of a great and cultivated mind are all that remain to us of 
 the jurist and legislator. 
 
 Few men have attracted so large a share of public atten- 
 tion, or maintained for so long a period an equal degree of 
 mental distinction. In this and the other House there, 
 were rivals for fame, and he grappled in debate with the 
 master-minds of the day, and achieved in such manly con- 
 flict the imperishable renown connected with his name. 
 
 Upon most of the questions which have been agitated in 
 Congress during his period of service, his voice was heard. 
 Few orators have equalled him in a masterly power of 
 condensation, or in that clear logical arrangement of proofs 
 and arguments which secures the attention of the hearer, 
 and holds it with unabated interest. 
 
 These speeches have been preserved, and many of them 
 will be read as forensic models, and will command admira- 
 tion for their great display of intellectual power and ex- 
 tensive research. This is not a suitable occasion to discuss 
 the merits of political productions, or to compare them 
 with the eifusions of great contemporaneous minds, or to 
 speak of the principles advocated. All this belongs to the 
 future, and history will assign each great name the mea- 
 sure of its enduring fame. 
 
 Mr. Webster was conspicuous not only arriong the most 
 illustrious men in the halls of legislation, but his fame 
 shone with undiminished lustre in the judicial tribunals as 
 an advocate, where he participated in many of the most 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 443 
 
 important discussions. On the bench were Marshall, Story, 
 and their brethren — men of patient research and compre- 
 liensive scope of intellect — who have left behind them, in 
 our judicial annals, proofs of greatness which Avill secure 
 profound veneration and respect for their names. At the 
 bar stood Plnckney, Wirt, Emmett, and many others who 
 adorned and gave exalted character to the profession. 
 Amid these luminaries of the bar he discussed many of the 
 great questions raised in giving construction to organic 
 law ; and no one shone with more intense brightness, or 
 brought into the conflict of mind more learning, higher 
 proofs of severe mental discipline, or more copious illustra- 
 tion. 
 
 Among such men, and in such honorable combat, the 
 foundations of that critical knowledge of constitutional 
 law, wliich afterward became a prominent feature of his 
 character, and entered largely into his opinions as a legis- 
 lator, were laid. 
 
 The arguments made at this forum displayed a careful 
 -research into the history of the formation of the Federal 
 Union, and an acute analysis of the fundamental provisions 
 of the Constitution. 
 
 Probably no man has penetrated deeper into the prin- 
 ciples, or taken a more comprehensive and complete view 
 of the Union of the States, than that great man, Chief- 
 Justice Marsliall. No question was so subtle as to elude 
 his grasp, or so complex as to defy his penetration. Even 
 the great and the learned esteemed it no condescension to 
 listen to the teachings of his voice ; and no one profited 
 more by his wisdom, or more venerated his character, than 
 Mr. Webster. 
 
 To stand among such men with marked distinction, as 
 did Mr. Webster, is an association which might satisfy any 
 ambition, whatever might be its aspirations. But there, 
 among those iliustriou^ men, who have finished their labois 
 and gone to their final homes, he made his mark strong 
 and deep, which will be seen and traced by posterity. 
 
 But I need not dwell on that which is familiar to all 
 readers who feel an interest in such topics ; nor need I 
 notice the details of his private life — since hundreds of 
 pens have been employed in revealing all the facts, and in 
 
444 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 describing, in the most vivid manner, all the scenes which 
 have been deemed attractive ; nor need I reiterate the 
 fervent language of eulogy which has been poured out in 
 all quarters from the press, the pulpit, the bar, legislative 
 bodies, and public assemblies — since his own productions 
 constitute his best eulogy. 
 
 I could not, if I were to attempt it, add any thing to the 
 streno-th or beauty of the manifold evidences which have 
 been ''exhibited of the length, the breadth and height of 
 his fame ; nor is there any occasion for such proofs in the 
 genate — the place where his face was familiar, where many 
 of his greatest efforts were made, and where his intellectual 
 powers were appreciated. Here he was seen and heard, 
 and nowhere else will his claim to great distinction be more 
 cheerfully admitted. 
 
 But the places which have known him will know him no 
 more ! His form will never rise here again ; his voice will 
 not be heard, nor his expressive countenance seen. He is 
 dead. In his last moments he was surrounded by his 
 family and friends at his own home ; and, while consoled 
 by their presence, his spirit took its flight to other regions. 
 All that remained has been committed to its kindred earth. 
 Divine Providence gives us illustrious men, but they, like 
 others, when their mission is ended, yield to the inexorable 
 law of our being. He who gives also takes away, but never 
 forsakes his faithful children. 
 
 The places of those possessing uncommon gifts are 
 vacated, the sod rests upon the once manly form, now as 
 cold and lifeless as itself, and the living are filled with 
 gloom and desolation. But the world rolls on; Nature 
 loses none of its charms ; the sun rises with undiminished 
 splendor; the grass loses none of its freshness; nor do the 
 flowers cease to fill the air with fragrance. Nature, un- 
 touched by human woe, proclaims the immutable laV of 
 Providence, that decay follows growth, and that He who 
 takes away never fails to give. 
 
 Sir, I propose the following resolutions, believing that 
 they will meet the cordial approbation of the Senate : 
 
 Resolved, That the Senate has received with profound 
 sensibility the annunciation from the President of the death 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 445 
 
 of the late Secretary of State, Daniel Webster, who was 
 long a highly distmguished member of this body. 
 
 Mesolved, That the Senate will manifest its respect for 
 the memory of the deceased, and its sympathy with his 
 bereaved family, by wearing the usual badge of mourning 
 tor thirty days. ° 
 
 Resolved, Thut these proceedings be communicated to 
 the House of Kepresentatives. 
 
 II. 
 
 MR. BUTLER. 
 
 Mr. President : This is an occasion full of interesting 
 but melancholy associations, and one that especially ap- 
 peals to my feelings and sense of justice— I might almost 
 say historical justice— as a representative of South Caro- 
 lina. Who, that were present, can ever forget the mourn- 
 ful and imposing occasion when Daniel Webster, whose 
 eloquence and ability had given distinction to the greatest 
 deliberative assembly and the most august tribunal of 
 justice in this great Confederacy; and when Henry Clay 
 — a name associated with all that is daring in action and 
 splendid in eloquence— rose as witnesses before the tribunal 
 of history, and gave their testimony as to the character 
 and services of their illustrious compeer, John Caldwell 
 Calhoun ? They embalmed in historical immortality their 
 rival, associate, and comrade. 
 
 I would that I could borrow from the spirit of my great 
 countryman something of its justice and magnanimity, that 
 I might make some requital for the distinguished tributes 
 paid to his memory by his illustrious compeers. Such an 
 occasion as the one I have referred to, is without parallel 
 in the history of this Senate; and, sir, I fear that there is 
 no future for such another one. Calhoun, Clay, and Web- 
 ster — like Pitt, Fox, and Burke — have made a picture on 
 our history that will be looked upon as its culminating 
 splendor. They were luminaries that, in many points of 
 
 38 
 
446 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 view, essentially diftered from each other, as one star dif- 
 fereth from another ; but they were all stars of the first 
 magnitude. Distance cannot destroy, nor can time diminish 
 the simple splendor of their light for the guidance and in- 
 struction of an admiring posterity. 
 
 Rivals they were on a great and eventful theatre of 
 political life ; but death has given them a common fame. 
 
 Eadeni arena, 
 Communis virtus, atque perennis decus, 
 Victrix causa parem meritis et victa favorem 
 Viudicat, ajternum vivere fama dedit. 
 
 Their contest in life was for the awards of public opinion 
 — the great lever in modern times by which nations are to 
 be moved. 
 
 " With more than mortal powers eiidow'd, 
 How high they soar'd above the crowd! 
 Theirs was no common partjj^ race. 
 Jostling by dark intrigue for place : 
 Like fabled gods, their mighty war 
 Shook realms and nations in its jar!" 
 
 Before I became a member of the Senate, of which I 
 found Mr. Webster a distinguished ornament, I had formed 
 a very high estimate of his abilities — and from various 
 sources of high authority. His mind, remarkable for its 
 large capacity, was enriched with rare endowments — Avith 
 the knowledge of a statesman, the learning of a jurist, and 
 the attainments of a scholar. In this Chamber, with un- 
 surpassed ability, Mr. Webster has discussed the greatest 
 subjects that have influenced, or can influence, the destinies 
 of this great Confederacy. Well may I apply to him the 
 striking remark which he bestowed on Mr. Calhoun : "We 
 saw before us a Senator of Rome, when Rome survived." 
 
 I have always regarded Mr. Webster as a noble model 
 of a parliamentai-y debater. His genial temper, the 
 courtesy and digu'ity of his deportment, his profound 
 knowledge of his sul)ject, and his thorough preparation, 
 not only gave him a great command over his immediate 
 audience, but gave his masterly speeches an impressive in- 
 fluence upon public opinion. 
 
 In tlie Supreme Court, Mr. Webster was engaged in the 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 447 
 
 greatest cases that were ever decided by that tribunal ; and 
 it is not saying too much to assert that his arguments 
 fortned the basis of some of the ablest judgments of that 
 court. His exuberant but rectified imagination, and bril- 
 liant literary attainments, imparted to his eloquence beauty, 
 simplicity, and majesty, and the finish of taste and elabora- 
 tion, lie seemed to prefer the more deliberative style of 
 speaking ; but, when roused and assailed, he became a 
 formidable adversary in the war of debate, discharging 
 from his full quiver the arrows of sarcasm and invective 
 with telling efiect. 
 
 Mr. Webster was born in a forest, and, in his childhood 
 and youth, lived amid the scenes of rural life ; and it was 
 no doubt under their inspiring influence that he imbibed 
 that love of Nature which has given such a charm and 
 touching pathos to some of his meditative productions. It 
 always struck me that he had something of Burns's natui-e, 
 but controlled by the discipline of a higher education. 
 Lifted above the ordinar}'^ level of mankind by his genius 
 and intelligence, Mr. Webster looked upon a more exten- 
 sive horizon than could be seen by those below him. He 
 had too much information, from his large and vai-ied inter- 
 course Avith great men, and his acquaintance with the 
 opinions of all ages through the medium of books, to allow 
 the spirit of bigotry to have a place in his mind. I have 
 many reasons to conclude that he was not only tolerant of 
 the opinions of others, but was even generous in his judg- 
 ments toward them. I will conclude by saying that New 
 England, especially, and the Confederacy at large, have 
 cause to be proud of the fame of such a man. 
 
 III. 
 
 MR. CASS. 
 
 Mr. President : How are the mightt fallen ! was 
 the pathetic lamentation when the leaders of Israel were 
 struck down in the midst of their services and of their 
 
448 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 renown. "Well may we repeat that national wail, How are 
 THE MIGHTY FALLEN ! when the impressive dispensations 
 of Providence have so recently carried mourning to the 
 hearts of the American people, by summoning from life to 
 death three of their eminent citizens, who, for almost half 
 a century, had taken part — and prominently, too — in all 
 the great questions, as well of peace as of war, Avhich 
 agitated and divided their country. Full, indeed, they 
 were of days and of honors, for 
 
 " The hand of the reaper 
 Took the ears that were hoary," 
 
 but never brighter in intellect, purer in patriotism, nor 
 more powerful in influence, than when the grave closed 
 upon their labors, leaving their memory and their career 
 at once an incentive and an example for their countrymen 
 in that long course of trial — but I trust of freedom and 
 prosperity, also — Avhich is open before us. Often divided 
 in life, but only by honest convictions of duty, followed in 
 a spirit of generous emulation, and not of personal opposi- 
 tion, they are now united in death ; and we may appro- 
 priately adopt, upon this striking occasion, the beautiful 
 language addressed to the people of England by one of 
 her most gifted sons, when they were called to mourn, as 
 we are called now, a bereavement which spread sorrow — 
 dismay almost — through the nation, and under circum- 
 stances of difiiculty and of danger far greater than any 
 we can now reasonably anticipate in the progress of our 
 history : 
 
 "Seek not for those a separate doom, 
 Whom fate made brothers in the tomb; 
 But search the hwid of living men: 
 Where shall we find their like again?" 
 
 And to-day, in the consideration of the message of the 
 Chief Magistrate, it becomes us to respond to his annuncia- 
 tion — commending itself, as it does, to the universal senti- 
 ment of the country — of the death of the last of these 
 lamented statesmen, as a national misfortune. This mark 
 of respect and regiet was due alike to the memory of the 
 dead and to the feelings of the living. And I have lis- 
 tened with deep emotion to the eloquent testimonials to the 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 449 
 
 mental power, and worth, and services of the departed 
 patriot, which to-day have been heard in this high place, 
 and Avill be heard to-morrow, and commended, too, by the 
 American people. The voice of party is hushed in the 
 presence of such a national calamity, and the grave closes 
 upon the asperity of political contests when it closes upon 
 those who have taken part in them. And well may we, 
 who have so often witnessed his labors and his triumphs — 
 well may we, here, upon this theatre of his services and 
 his renown, recalling the efforts of his mighty understand- 
 ing, and the admiration which always followed its exertion 
 — well may we come with our tribute of acknowledgment 
 to his high and diversified powers, and to the influence he 
 exercised upon his auditory, and, in fact, upon his country. 
 He was, indeed, one of those remarkable men who stand 
 prominently forward upon the canvas of history, impress- 
 ing their characteristics upon the age in which they live, 
 and almost making it their own by the force of their genius 
 and by the splendor of their fame. The time which elapsed 
 between the middle of the eighteenth century and our own 
 day was prolific of great events and of distinguished men, 
 who guided or were guided by them, far beyond any other 
 equal period in the history of human society. But, in my 
 opinion, even this favored epoch has produced no man pos- 
 sessing a more massive and gigantic intellect, or who exhi- 
 bited more profound powers of investigation in the great 
 department of political science to which he devoted him- 
 self, in all its various ramifications, than Daniel Webster. 
 
 The structure of his mind seemed peculiarly adapted to 
 the work he was called upon to do, and he did it as no 
 other man of his counrty — of his age, indeed — could have 
 done it. And his name and his fame are indissolubly con- 
 nected with some of the most difficult and important ques- 
 tions which our peculiar institutions have called into dis- 
 cussion. It was my good fortune to hear him upon one of 
 the most memorable of these occasions, when, in this very 
 hall, filled to overflowing with an audience whose rapt at- 
 tention indicated his power and their expectations, he 
 entered into an analysis of the Constitution, and of the 
 great principles of our political organization, with a vigor 
 
 38* 
 
450 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 of ar2;ument, a force of illustration, and a felicity of dic- 
 tion, uliicli h;ive rendered tliis effort of his mind one of 
 the proudest monuments of American genius, and one of 
 the noblest expositions which the operations of our Govern- 
 ment have called forth. I speak of its general eifect, 
 without concurring in all the views he presented, though 
 the points of difference neither impair my estimate of the 
 speaker nor of the poAver he displayed in this elaborate 
 debate. 
 
 The judgment of his contemporaries upon the character 
 of his eloquence will be confirmed by the future historian. 
 He grasped the questions involved in the subject before 
 him Avith a rare union of force and discrimination, and he 
 presented them in an oi'der of arrangement, marked at 
 once with great perspicuity and with logical acuteness, so 
 that, when he arrived at his conclusion, lie seemed to reach 
 it by a process of established propositions, interwoven with 
 the hand of a master ; and topics, barren of attraction, 
 from their nature, were rendered interesting by illustra- 
 tions and allusions, drawn from a vjfst storehouse of know- 
 ledge, and applied with a chastened taste, formed upon 
 the best models of ancient and of modern learning ; and 
 to these eminent qualifications was added an uninterrupted 
 flow of rich and often racy old-fashioned English, worthy 
 of the earlier niasters of the language, whom he studied 
 and admired. 
 
 As a statesman and politician his power was felt and 
 acknowledged through the Republic, and all bore willing 
 testimony to his enlarged views and to his ardent patriot- 
 ism. And he acquired a European reputation by the 
 state papers he prepared upon various questions of our 
 foreign policy ; and one of these — his refutation and ex- 
 posure of an absurd and arrogant pretension of Austria — 
 is distinguished by lofty and generous sentiments, be- 
 coming the age in which he lived and the great people in 
 whose name he spoke, and is stamped with a vigor and re- 
 search not less honorable in the exhibition than conclusive 
 in the applicatitm ; and it will ever take rank in the 
 history of diplnmatic intercourse among the richest con- 
 tributions to the commentaries upon the public law of the 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 451 
 
 world. And in internal as in external troubles he was 
 true, and tried, and faithful ; and in the latest, may it be 
 the last, as it was the most perilous, crisis of our country, 
 rejecting all sectional considerations, and exposing himself 
 to sectional denunciation, he stood up boldly, proudly, in- 
 deed, and with consummate ability, for the constitutional 
 rights of another portion of the Union, fiercely assailed 
 by a spirit of aggression, as incompatible Avith our mutual 
 obligations as with the duration of the Confederation 
 itself. In that dark and doubtful hour, his voice was 
 heard above the storm, recalling his countrymen to a sense 
 of their dangers and their duties, and tempering the les- 
 sons of reproof with the experience of age and the dictates 
 of patriotism. 
 
 He who heard his memorable appeal to the public reason 
 and conscience, made in this crowded chamber, with all 
 eyes fixed upon the speaker, and almost all hearts swayed 
 by his words of wisdom and of power, will sedulously guard 
 its recollections as one of those precious* incidents which, 
 while they constitute the poetry of history, exert a per- 
 manent and decisive influence upon the destiny of nations. 
 
 And our deceased colleague added the kindlier affec- 
 tions of the heart to the lofty endowments of the mind ; 
 and I recall, with almost painful sensibility, the associa- 
 tions of our boyhood, wdien we were school-fellows together, 
 .with all the troubles and the pleasures which belong to 
 that relation of life, in its narrow world of preparation. 
 He rendered himself dear by his disposition and deport- 
 ment, and exhibited some of those peculiar characteristic 
 features, which, later in life, made him the ■ornament of 
 the social circle, and, when study and knowledge of the 
 world had ripened his faculties, endoAved him with powers 
 of conversation I have not found surpassed in my inter- 
 course with society, at home or abroad. His conduct and 
 bearing at that early period have left an enduring impres- 
 sion upon my memory of mental traits wdiich his sub- 
 sequent course in life developed and confirmed. And the 
 commanding position and ascendency of the man were fore- 
 shadowed by the standing and influence of the boy among 
 the comrades who surrounded him. Fifty-five years ago 
 
4-52 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 we parted — lie to prepare for his splendid career in the 
 good old land of our ancestors, and I to encounter the 
 rough toils and trials of life in the great forest of the 
 West. But, ere long, the report of his words and his 
 deeds penetrated those recesses, where human industry was 
 painfully, but successfully, contending with the obstacles 
 of Nature, and I found that my early companion was 
 assuming a position which confirmed my previous antici- 
 pations, and which could only be attained by the rare 
 faculties with which he was gifted. Since then he has 
 gone on irradiating his path with the splendor of his ex- 
 ertions, till the whole hemisphere was bright with his glory, 
 and never brighter than when he went down in the west, 
 without a cloud to obscure his lustre, calm, clear, and 
 glorious. Fortunate in life, he was not less fortunate in 
 death, for he died with his fame undiminished, his facul- 
 ties unbroken, and his usefulness unimpaired ; surrounded 
 by weeping friends, and regarded with anxious solicitude 
 by a grateful country, to whom the messenger that mocks 
 at time and space told, from hour to hour, the progress of 
 his disorder, and the approach of his fate. And beyond all 
 this, he died in the faith of a Christian, humble, but hope- 
 ful, adding another to the roll of eminent men who have 
 searched the gospel of Jesus, and have found it the word 
 and the will of God, given to direct us while here, and to 
 sustain us in that hour of trial, when the things of this 
 world are passing away, and the dark valley of the shadow 
 of death is open before us. 
 
 How ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN ! WO may yet exclaim, 
 when reft of our greatest and wisest ; but they fall to rise 
 again from death to life, when such quickening faith- in the 
 mercy of God and in the sacrifice of the Redeemer comes 
 to shed upon them its happy influence, on this side of the 
 grave and beyond it. 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 453 
 
 IV. 
 
 MR. SEWARD. 
 
 Whex, in passing through Savoy, I reached the emi- 
 nence where the traveller is promised his first distinct 
 view of Mont Blanc, I asked, " Where is the mountain ?" 
 " There," said the guide, pointing to the rainy sky which 
 stretched out before me. It is even so when we approach 
 and attempt to scan accurately a great character. Clouds 
 gather upon it, and seem to take it up out of our sight. 
 
 Daniel Webster was a man of warm and earnest af- 
 fections in all the domestic and social relations. Purely 
 incidental and natural allusions in his conversations, let- 
 ters, and speeches, have made us familiar with the very 
 pathways about his early mountain home ; with his mother, 
 graceful, intellectual, fond, and pious ; with his father, as- 
 siduous, patriotic, and religious, changing his pursuits, as 
 duty in Revolutionary times commanded, from the farm to 
 the camp, and from the camp to the provincial legislature 
 and the constituent assembly. It seems as if we could 
 recognise the very form and features of the most constant 
 and generous of brothers. Nor are we strangers at Marsh- 
 field. We are guests hospitably admitted, and then left to 
 wander at our ease under the evergreens on the lawn, over 
 the grassy fields, through the dark, native forest, and along 
 the resounding sea-shore. We know, almost as well as Ave 
 know our own, the children reared there, and fondly loved, 
 and therefore, perhaps, early lost ; the servants bought 
 from b£)ndage, and held by the stronger chains of grati- 
 tude; the careful steward, always active, yet -never hurried; 
 the reverent neighbor, always welcome, yet never obtru- 
 sive ; and the ancient fisherman, whose little fleet is ever 
 ready for the sports of the sea ; and we meet on every side 
 the watchful and devoted friends whom no frequency of 
 disappointment can discourage, and whom even the death 
 of their great patron cannot all at once disengage from 
 efforts Avhich know no balancing of probabilities nor 
 
4")4 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 reckoning of cost to secure his elevation to the first honors 
 of the Republic. 
 
 Who that was even confessedly provincial was ever so 
 identified with any thing local as Daxiel Webster was 
 with the spindles of Lowell, and the quarries of Quincy ; 
 with Faneuil Hall, Bunker Hill, Forefathers' Day, Ply- 
 mouth Rock, and whatever else belonged to Massachu- 
 setts? And yet, who that was most truly national has 
 ever so sublimely celebrated, or so touchingly commended 
 to our reverent afiection, our broad and ever-broadening 
 continental home ; its endless rivers, majestic mountains, 
 and capacious lakes ; its inimitable and indescribable con- 
 stitution ; its cherished and growing capital ; its nptlj con- 
 ceived and expressive flag, and its triumphs by land and 
 sea ; and its immortal founders, heroes, and martyrs ! 
 Ho'^Y manifest it was, too, that, unlike those who are im- 
 patient of slow but sure progress, he loved his country, 
 not for something greater or higher than he desired or 
 hoped she might be, but just for what she was, and as she 
 was already, regardless of future change ! 
 
 No, sir ; believe me, they err widely who say that 
 Daniel Webster was cold and passionless. It is true 
 that he had little enthusiasm ; but he was, nevertheless, 
 earnest and sincere, as well as calm ; and, therefore, he 
 was both discriminating and comprehensive in his afiec- 
 tions. We recognise his likeness in the portrait drawn by 
 a Roman pencil : 
 
 "who with nice discernment knows 
 "What to his country and his friends he owes ; 
 How various Nature warms the human breast, 
 To love the parent, brother, friend, or guest, • 
 What the great offices of judges are. 
 Of senators, of generals sent to war." 
 
 Daniel Webster was cheerful, and on becoming oc- 
 casions joyous, and even mirthful ; but he was habitually 
 engaged in profound studies on great aff'airs. He was, 
 moreover, constitutionally fearful of the dangers of popular 
 passion and prejudice ; and so, in public walk, conversa- 
 tion, and debate, he was grave and serious, even to solem- 
 nity ; yet he never desponded in the darkest hours of 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 455 
 
 personal or political trial ; and melancholy never, in health 
 nor even in sickness, spread a pall over his spirits. 
 
 It must have been very early that he acquired that just 
 estimate of his own powers Avhich was the basis of a self- 
 reliance which all the world saw and approved, and which, 
 while it betrayed no feature of vanity, none but a super- 
 ficial observer could have mistaken for pride or arrogance. 
 _ Daniel Webster was no sophist. With a tale^it for 
 didactic instruction which might have excused dogmatism, 
 he never lectured on the questions of morals that are 
 agitated in the schools. But he seemed, nevertheless, to 
 have acquired a philosophy of his own, and to have made it 
 the rule and guide of his life. That philosophy consisted in 
 improving his powers and his tastes, so that he might ap- 
 preciate whatever Avas good and beautiful in nature and 
 art, and attain to whatever was excellent in conduct. He 
 had accurate perceptions of the qualities and relations 
 of things. He overvalued nothing that was common, 
 and undervalued nothing that was useful, or even orna- 
 mental. His lands, his cattle and equipage, his dwelling, 
 library, and apparel, his letters, arguments, and orations 
 — every thing that he had, every thing that he made, and 
 every thing that he did — was, as far as possible, fit, com- 
 plete, perfect. He thought decorous forms necessary for 
 preserving whatever was substantial or valuable in politics 
 and morals, and even in religion. In his regard, order 
 was the first law, and peace the chief blessing, of earth, as 
 they are of heaven. Therefore, while he desired justice 
 and loved liberty, he reverenced law as the first divinity of 
 states and of society. 
 
 Daniel Webster was, indeed, ambitious ; but his am- 
 bition was generally subordinate to conventional forms, 
 and always to the Constitution. He aspired to place and 
 preferment, but not for the mere exercise of political 
 power, and still less for pleasurable indulgences ; and only 
 for occasions to save or serve his country, and for the fame 
 which such noble actions might bring. Who Avill censure 
 such ambition ? Who had greater genius subjected to 
 severer discipline ? What other motives than those of am- 
 bition could have brought that genius into activity under 
 
456 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 that discipline, and sustained that activity so equally under 
 ever-changing circumstances so long ? His ambition never 
 fell off into presumption. He was, on the contrary, con- 
 tent with performing all practical duties, even in common 
 affairs, in the best possible manner ; and he never chafed 
 under petty restraints from those above, nor malicious 
 annoyances from those around him. If ever any man had 
 intellectual superiority which could have excused a want 
 of deference due to human authority, or skepticism con- 
 cerning that which was divine, he was such a one. Yet he 
 was, nevertheless, unassuming and courteous, here and else- 
 where, in the public councils ; and there was, I think, never 
 a time in his life when he was not an unquestioning be- 
 liever in that religion which offers to the meek the inherit- 
 ance of the heavenly kingdom. 
 
 Daniel Webster's mind was not subtle, but it was clear. 
 It was surpassingly logical in the exercise of induction, and 
 equally vigorous and energetic in all its movements ; and 
 yet he possessed an imagination so strong that if it had 
 been combined with even a moderated enthusiasm of 
 temper, would have overturned the excellent balance of 
 his powers. 
 
 The civilian rises in this, as in other republics, by the 
 practice of eloquence ; and so Daniel Webster became 
 an orator — the first of orators. 
 
 Whatever else concerning him has been controverted by 
 anybody, the fifty thousand lawyers of the United States, 
 interested to deny his pretensions, conceded to him an un- 
 approachable supremacy at the bar. How did he win that 
 high place ? Where others studied laboriously, he medi- 
 tated intensely. Where others appealed to the prejudices 
 and passions of courts and juries, he addressed only their 
 understandings. Where others lost themselves among the 
 streams, he ascended to the fountain. While they sought 
 the rules of law among conflicting precedents, he found 
 them in the eternal principles of reason and justice. 
 
 But it is conceding too much to the legal profession to 
 call Daniel Webster a lawyer. Lawyers speak for clients 
 and their interests — he seemed always to be speaking for 
 his country and for truth. So he rose imperceptibly above 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 457 
 
 his profession ; and while yet in the Forum, he stood hefore 
 the world a Publicist. In this felicity, he resembled, while 
 he surpassed, Erskine, who taught the courts at Westmin- 
 ster the law of moral responsibility ; and he approached 
 Hamilton, who educated the courts at Washington in the 
 Constitution of their country and the philosophy of govern- 
 ment. 
 
 An undistinguishable line divides this high province of 
 the Forum from the Senate, to which his philosophy and 
 eloquence were perfectly adapted. Here, in times of 
 stormy agitation and bewildering excitement, when as yet 
 the Union of these States seemed not to have been cemented 
 and consolidated, and its dissolution seemed to hang* if not 
 on the immediate result of the debate, at least upon the 
 popular passion that that result must generate, Daxiel 
 Webster put forth his mightiest efforts — confessedly the 
 greatest ever put forth here or on this continent. Those 
 efforts produced marked effect on the Senate ; they soothed 
 the public mind, and became enduring lessons of instruc- 
 tion to our countrymen on the science of constitutional 
 law, and the relative powers and responsibilities of the 
 Government, and the rights and duties of the States and 
 of citizens. 
 
 Tried by ancient definitions, Daniel Webster was not 
 an orator. He studied no art and practised no action. Nor 
 did he form himself by any admitted model. He had 
 neither the directness and vehemence of Demosthenes, nor 
 the fulness nor flow of Cicero, nor the intenscness of Mil- 
 ton, nor the magnificence of Burke. It was happy for him 
 that he had not. The temper and tastes of his age and 
 country required eloquence different from all these; and 
 they found it in the pure logic and the vigorous yet mass- 
 ive rhetoric which constituted the style of Daniel Web- 
 ster. 
 
 Daniel Webster, although a statesman, did not aim to 
 be either a popular or a parliamentary leader. He left 
 common affairs and questions to others, and reserved him- 
 self for those great and infrequent occasions which seemed 
 to involve the prosperity or the continuance of the Re- 
 public. On these occasions he rose above partisan in- 
 
 39 
 
458 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 fluences and alliances, and gave his counsels earnestly, and 
 with impassioned solemnity, and always with an unaf- 
 fected reliance upon the intelligence and virtue of his 
 countrymen. 
 
 The first revolutionary assembly that convened in Bos- 
 ton promulgated the principle of the revolution of 1688 — 
 "Resistance to unjust laws is obedience to God;" and it 
 became the watchword throughout the colonies. Under 
 that motto the colonies dismembered the British Empire, 
 and erected the American Republic. At an early day, it 
 seemed to Daniel Webster that the habitual cherishing 
 of that principle, after its great work had been consum- 
 mated, threatened to subvert, in its turn, the free and 
 beneficent Constitution, which afi"orded the highest attain- 
 able security against the passage of unjust laws. He ad- 
 dressed himself therefore assiduously, and almost alone, 
 to what seemed to him the duty of calling the American 
 people back from revolutionary theories to the formation 
 of habits of peace, order, and submission to authority. He 
 inculcated the duty of submission by States and citizens to 
 all laws passed within the province of constitutional au- 
 thority, and of absolute reliance on constitutional remedies 
 for the correction of all errors and the redress of all in- 
 justice. This was the political gospel of Daxiel Webster. 
 He preached it in season and out of season, boldly, con- 
 stantly, with the zeal of an apostle, and with the devotion, 
 if there were need, of a martyr. It was full of saving 
 influences wliile he lived, and those influences will last so 
 long as the Constitution and the Union shall endure. 
 
 i do not dwell on Daniel Webster's exercise of ad- 
 ministrative functions. It was marked by the same ability 
 that distinguished all his achievements in other fields of 
 duty. It was at the same time eminently conservative of 
 peace, and of the great principles of constitutional liberty, 
 on which the republican institutions of his country were 
 founded. But while those administrative services benefited 
 his country, and increased his fame, we all felt, neverthe- 
 less, that his proper and highest place was here, where 
 there was field and scope for his philosophy and his elo- 
 quence — here, among the equal representatives of equal 
 
OBITUARY Addresses. 459 
 
 States, which were at once to be held together, and to be 
 moved on in the establishment of a continental power con- 
 trolling all the American States, arid balancing those of 
 the Eastern world ; and we could not but exclaim, in the 
 words of the Roman orator, when we saw him leave the 
 legislative councils to enter on the office of administration — 
 
 " Quantis in angustiis, vestra gloria se dilitari velit." 
 
 MR. STOCKTON. 
 
 Mr. President : I was prevented from coming to Wash- 
 ington until this morning. After travelling all night, I 
 hastened here to take my seat, wholly unapprized of the 
 intention of the Senator from Massachusetts to introduce 
 the resolutions now before the Senate. 
 
 It would, therefore, not become me, nor the solemnity 
 of the occasion, to mingle, unprepared as I needs must be, 
 my voice in the eloquent lamentation which does honor to 
 the Senate, for any other purpose than merely briefly to 
 express my grief — my sorrow — my heartfelt, unaffected 
 sorrow for the death of Daniel Webster. 
 
 Senators, I have known and loved Daniel Webster for 
 thirty years. What wonder, then, I sorrow ? But now 
 that I am on my feet for that purpose — and the Senate, 
 who knew and loved him too, are my listeners — how am I 
 to express that sorrow ? I cannot do it. It cannot be done. 
 Oh ! sir, all words, in moments such as these, when love or 
 grief seek utterance, are vain and frigid. 
 
 Senators, I can even now hardly realize the event — that 
 Daniel Webster is dead — that he does not ''•still live.''' 
 
 I did hope that God — who has watched over this Re- 
 public — who can do all things — "who hung the Earth on 
 nothing" — who so endowed the mind of Daniel Webster — 
 would still longer have upheld its frail tenement, and kept 
 
460 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 him as an example to our own men, and to the men of the 
 whole world. 
 
 Indeed, it is no figure of speech, when we say that Ids 
 fame was "world-wide." 
 
 But, Senators, I have risen to pronounce no eulogy on 
 him. I am up for no such vain purpose. I come with no 
 ceremony. I come to the portals of his grave, stricken 
 with sadness — before the assembled Senate — in the pre- 
 sence of friends and Senators — (for whether they be of this 
 side of the Chamber or the other side of the Chamber, I 
 hope I am entitled to call every Senator my friend) — to 
 mingle my grief with the grief of those around me. But 
 I cherish no hope of adding one gravel-stone to the colossal 
 column he has erected for himself. I would only place a 
 garland of friendship on the bier of one of the greatest 
 and best men I ever knew. 
 
 Senators, you have known Mr. Webster in his public 
 character — as a statesman of almost intuitive perceptions 
 — as a lawyer of unsurpassed learning and ability — as a 
 ripe and general scholar. But it was my happiness to 
 know him, also, as a man in the seclusion of private life ; 
 and in the performance of sacred domestic duties, and of 
 those of reciprocal friendship, I say, in this presence, and 
 as far as my voice may reach, that he was remarkable for 
 all those attributes Avhich constitute a generous, magnani- 
 mous, courageous, hospitable, and high-minded man. Sir, 
 as far as my researches into the history of the world have 
 gone, they have failed to discover his superior. Not even 
 on the records of ancient Greece, or Rome, or of any other 
 nation, are to be found the traces of a man of superior 
 endowments to our own Webster. 
 
 Mr. President, in private life he was a man of pure and 
 noble sentiments, and eminently kind, social, and agree- 
 able. He v>'as generous to a fault. Sir, one act of his, 
 one speech of his, made in this Chamber, placed him before 
 all men of antiquity. lie oifered himself — yes, you all 
 remember, in that seat tliere^ he rose and offered himself a 
 living sacrifice for his country. And Lord Bacon has said, 
 tliat he who offers himself as a sacrifice for his country, is 
 a sight for angels to look upon. 
 
 Mr. President, my feelings on this occasion will not sur- 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSKS. 461 
 
 prise Senators, who remember that these are no new senti- 
 ments for me — that when he was living, I had the temerity 
 to say that Daniel Webster was the greatest among men, 
 and a true patriot — ay, sir ! when the expression of such 
 opinions might have interfered with political aspirations 
 imputed to me. Well, sir, if an empire had then been 
 hanging on my words, I would not have amended or altered 
 one sentiment. 
 
 Having said thus much for the dead, allow me to express 
 a word of thanks to the honorable Senator from Michigan, 
 (Mr. Cass.) Sir, I have often had occasion to feel senti- 
 ments of regard, and, if he will permit me to say it, of 
 affectionate regard, for him, and sometimes to express 
 them ; but the emotions created in my heart by his address 
 this morning are not easily expressed. I thank him — in 
 the fulness of my heart I thank him ; and may God spare 
 him to our country many years. May he long remain 
 here, in our midst, as he is at this day, in all the strength 
 of manhood, and in all the glory of matured wisdom. 
 
 HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, 
 
 Wednesday, December 15, 1852. 
 
 The Journal having been read, 
 
 A message was received from the Senate by the hands 
 of Asbury Dickins, Esq., its Secretary, which, upon re- 
 quest of Mr. Davis, of Massachusetts, was read, as follows : 
 
 Resolved, That the Senate has received with profound 
 sensibility the annunciation f)"om the President of the death 
 of the late Secretary of State, Daniel Webster, who was 
 long a highly distinguished member of this body. 
 
 Mesolved, That the Senate will manifest its respect for 
 the memory of the deceased, and its sympathy with his 
 
 39* 
 
462 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 bereaved family, by wearing the usual badge of mourning 
 for thirty days. 
 
 Resolved, That these proceedings be communicated to 
 the House of Representatives. 
 
 MR. DAVIS. 
 
 Mr. Speaker: I rise for the purpose of proposing 
 some action of this House in response to that which, we 
 learn, has taken place in the Senate in reference to the 
 death of Mr. Webster ; and I have little to add to the 
 proposition itself beyond a brief expression of reverence 
 and of aflectionate recollection. At this seat of Govern- 
 ment, where thirty years of Mr. Webster's life were spent 
 — in this Capitol, still populous with the echoes of his 
 voice — to this House, of which there is not an individual 
 member but can trace something of his intellectual wealth, 
 or political faith, to the fountain of that mighty intellect — 
 it would be useless, and worse, to pass in review the various 
 acts of spoken and written thought by which he impressed 
 himself ineffaceably upon his time. Master of the great 
 original ideas of which our social institutions are but the 
 coarse material expression ; master of a style which clothed 
 each glorious thought in a garb of appropriate beauty ; 
 possessed of a conquering nature, that, " like the west 
 wind, brought the sunshine with it," and gave us, wherever 
 he was, the sense of security and power, he has run his 
 appointed race, and has left us to feel that our day of life 
 will henceforth be more wintry now that that light has been 
 withdrawn. 
 
 " But he was ours. And may tliat -woid of pride 
 Drown, with its lofty tone, pain's bitter cry!" 
 
 I have no intention of undertaking here to measure his 
 labors or interpret his ideas ; but I feel tempted to say that 
 his great field of action — the greatest which any statesman 
 
OBITUARY Addresses. 463 
 
 can have — was in undertaking to apply general principles 
 to an artificial and complicated system ; to reconcile liberty 
 with law; to work out the advance of liberty and civiliza- 
 tion through and under the rules of law and government; 
 to solve that greatest problem of human government, how 
 much of the ideal may safely be let into the practical. 
 
 He sought these objects, and he sought the political 
 power which would enable him to carry out these objects, 
 and he threw into the struggle the great passions of a great 
 nature — the quidquid vult, valde vult, of the elder Brutus. 
 He sought, and not unsuccessfully, to throw around the 
 cold impersonal idea of a constitution the halo of love and 
 reverence which in the Old World gathers round the dynasties 
 of a thousand years; for, in the attachment thus created, 
 he thought he saw the means of safety and permanence for 
 his country. His large experience and broad forecast gave 
 him notice of national dangers which all did not see, as the 
 wires of the electric telegraph convey news of startling 
 import, unknown to the slumbering villages through which 
 they pass. Whether his fears were well or ill founded, the 
 future, the best guardian of his fame, will show ; but 
 whether well or ill founded matters nothing now to him. 
 He has passed through the last and sternest trial, which he 
 has himself in anticipation described in words never to be 
 forgotten : 
 
 " One may live (said he) as a conqueror, a hero, or a 
 magistrate, but he must die as a man. The bed of death 
 brings every human being to his pure individuality ; to the 
 intense contemplation of that, the deepest and most solemn 
 of all relations — the relation between the creature and his 
 Creator, Here it is that fame and renown cannot assist 
 us ; that all external things must fail to aid us ; that friends, 
 aftection, and human love and devotedness cannot succor 
 us. This relation, the true foundation of all duty — a rela- 
 tion perceived and felt by conscience and confirmed by 
 revelation — our illustrious friend, now deceased, always 
 acknowledged. He reverenced the Scriptures of truth, 
 honored the pure morality which they teach, and clung to 
 the hopes of future life which they impart." 
 
 Mr. Webster died in accordance with the prevailing 
 sentiment of his life, in the spirit of prayer to God, and 
 
404 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 of love to man. Well might the nation that watched his 
 dying bed say, in the words which the greatest English 
 poet applies to a legendary hero who also had been the 
 stay of his country in peril : 
 
 " Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
 Or knock the breast ; no weakness, no contempt, 
 Dispraise or blame : nothing but well and fair, 
 And what may comfort us in a death so noble." 
 
 VII. 
 
 MR. APPLETON, of Maine. 
 
 Mr. Speaker : I do not know that I ought to add any 
 thing to what has already been said upon the resolutions I 
 before us; yet, since the death of Mr. Webster was a 1 
 national calamity, it is fit that all classes and all parties 
 in the community should unite to testify their full appre- 
 ciation of it. The people themselves have admonished us 
 of this, as they have gathered recently with mournful reve- 
 rence around his tomb; and we should be unworthy of 
 them, if, here in the Capitol, where he won so much of his 
 fame, we did not add our tribute to his memory. It is a 
 GREAT memory, sir, and will go down to posterity, as one 
 of the country's heirlooms, through I know not how many 
 successive generations. AVe are not here, Mr. Speaker, 
 to build his monument. He builded that for himself 
 before he died ; and, had he failed to do so, none among 
 us could supply the deficiency. We are here, rather, to 
 recoo-nise his labors, and to inscribe the marble with his 
 name. 
 
 That we have not all sympathized with him in his 
 political doctrines, or been ready to sanction every trans- 
 action of his public life, need not, and, I am sure, does not, 
 abate any thing from our respect for his services, or our 
 regret for his loss. His character and his works, — what 
 he was and what he did, — constitute a legacy which no 
 Bound-hearted American can contemplate without emotions 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 465 
 
 of gratitude and pride. There is enough of Daniel 
 Webster, sir, to furnish a common ground upon which 
 all his countrymen can mingle their hearty tributes to his 
 memory. 
 
 He was a man to be remarked anywhere. Amono- a 
 barbarous people he would have excited reverence by^his 
 very look and mien. No one could stand before him 
 without knowing that he stood in a majestic presence, and 
 admiring those lineaments of greatness with which his 
 Creator had enstamped, in a manner not to be mistaken, 
 his outward form. If there ever was such an instance on 
 earth, his was the appearance described by the great 
 dramatist : 
 
 " The combination and the form indeed, 
 Where every god did seem to set his seal, 
 To give the world assurance of a man." 
 
 No one could listen to him, in his happier moments, 
 without feeling his spirit stirred within him by those deep, 
 cathedral tones which were the fit vehicles of his grave and 
 earnest thoughts. 
 
 No one can read his writings without being struck by 
 the wonderful manner in which they unite a severe sim- 
 plicity of style with great warmth of fancy, and great 
 affluence of diction. 
 
 We, Mr. Speaker, remember his look and his spoken 
 words ; but, by those who are to come after us, he will be 
 chiefly known through that written eloquence which is 
 gathered in our public records, and enshrined among the 
 pages of his published works. By these, at least, he still 
 lives, and by these, in my judgment, he will continue to 
 live, after these pillars shall have fallen, and this Capitol 
 shall have crumbled into ruin. Demosthenes has survived 
 the Parthenon, and Tully still pleads before the world the 
 cause of Roman culture and Roman oratory ; but there is 
 nothing, it seems to me, either in Tully or in Demosthenes, 
 which, for conception, or language, or elevation of senti- 
 ment, can exceed some passages in the writings Avliich 
 remain of Daniel Webster. His fame, indeed, is secure, 
 for it is guarded by his own works ; and, as he himself 
 said of Mr. Calhoun, " he has lived long enough, — he has 
 
406 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 done enough, and lie has done it so well, so successfully, 
 so honorably, as to connect himself for all time with the 
 records of his country." 
 
 In no respect, Mr. Speaker, is this an occasion of 
 lamentation for hhii. Death was not meant to be regarded 
 as an evil, or else it would not come alike to all ; and 
 about Mr. Webster's death there were many circum- 
 stances of felicity and good fortune. He died in the 
 maturity of his intellect, after long public service, and 
 after having achieved a great name for himself, and a 
 great memory for his country. He died at home ; his 
 last wants supplied by the hands of affection; his last 
 hours cheered by the consolations of friendship ; amidst 
 those peaceful scenes which he had himself assisted to 
 make beautiful, and within hearing of that ocean-anthem 
 to which he always listened with emotions of gratitude and 
 joy. He died, too, conscious of the wonderful growth and 
 prosperity and glory of his native land. His eloquent 
 prayer had been answered — the prayer which he breathed 
 forth to Providence at the greatest era of his life, when he 
 stood side by side with Andrew Jackson, and they both 
 contended for what was, in their belief, the cause of the 
 Constitution and the Union. 
 
 I pause, Mr. Speaker, at the combination of those two 
 names. Andrew Jackson and Daniel Webster! Daniel 
 Webster and Andrew Jackson ! With the clear intellect 
 and glorious oratory of the one, added to the intuitive 
 sagacity and fate-like will of the other, I will not ask 
 what ivrong is there which they could not successfully 
 cru?>h, but what right is there, rather, which could with- 
 stand their united power? 
 
 "When my eyes," he said on that great occasion, "are 
 turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I 
 not see him shining on the broken and dishonored frag- 
 ments of a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, dis- 
 cordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or 
 drenched, it may be, with fraternal blood. Let their last 
 feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous 
 ensign of the republic, now known and honored throughout 
 the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies 
 streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 467 
 
 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 afterward;' 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 sentiment, dear to every American heart, 'Liberty 
 and union, now and forever, one and inseparable.' " Sir, 
 Mr. Webster outlived the crisis of 1830, and saw his 
 country emerge in safety, also, from that later tempest of 
 sectional disturbance, whose waters are even yet heaving 
 with the swell of subdued but not exhausted passion. He 
 left this nation great, prosperous, and happy; and, more 
 than that, he left the Constitution and the LTnion in 
 vigorous existence, under whose genial influences all that 
 glory, and prosperity, and happiness, he knew, had been 
 achieved. To preserve them, he had risked what few men 
 have to risk — his reputation, his good name, his cherished 
 friendships ; and if there be any who doubt the wisdom of 
 his 7th of March speech, let them consider the value of 
 these treasures, and they will at least give him credit for 
 patriotism and sincerity. But I am unwilling, Mr. Speaker, 
 to dwell upon this portion of his career. The fires of that 
 crisis have subsided, but their ashes are yet warm with 
 recent strife. What Mr. Webster did, and the other 
 great men with whom he labored, to extinguish those fires, 
 has gone into the keeping of history, and they have found 
 their best reward in the continued safety of the republic. 
 
 Our anxiety need not be for them. When the mariner 
 is out upon the ocean, and sees, one by one, the lights 
 of heaven go out before the rising storm, he does not ask 
 what has become of those lights, or whether they shall 
 renew their lustre ; but his inquiry is, what is to become 
 of me, and how am I to guide my bark in safety, after 
 these natural pilots of the sky have disappeared? Yet 
 even then, by consulting those calculations and directions 
 which wise and skilful men had prepared when the light 
 did shine, and there was no tempest raging upon the sea, 
 he is enabled, it may be, to grope his way in safety to his 
 desired port. And this, sir, is our consolation upon occa- 
 
468 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 sions like the present one. Jackson, and Calhoun, and 
 Clay, and Wright, and Polk, and Woodbury, and Webster, 
 are indeed no more; and if all that they thought, and said, 
 and did — their wise conceptions, and their heroic deeds, 
 and their bright examples — were buried ivith them, how 
 terribly deepened would now be our sense of the nation's 
 loss, and how much less hopeful the prospects of republican 
 liberty! But it is not so. "A superior and commanding 
 human intellect," Mr. Webster has himself told us, "a 
 truly great man, when Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is 
 not a temporary flame, burning brightly for a while, and 
 then giving place to returning darkness. It is rather a 
 spark of fervent heat, as well as radiant light, with power 
 to enkindle the common mass of human mind ; so that 
 when it glimmers in its own decay, and finally goes out in 
 death, no night follows, but it leaves the world all light, all 
 on fire, from the potent contact of its own spirit." No, 
 sir, our great men do not wholly die. All that they 
 achieved worthy of remembrance survives them. They 
 live in their recorded actions; they live in their bright 
 examples; they live in the respect and gratitude of man- 
 kind; and they live in that peculiar influence by whicli 
 one siniT-le commanding thought, as it runs along the 
 electric chain of human afl'airs, sets in motion still other 
 thoughts and ihfluences, in endless progression, and thus 
 makes its author an active and powerful agent in the 
 events of life, long after his mortal portion shall have 
 crumbled in the tomb. 
 
 Let us thank God for this immortality of worth, and 
 rejoice in every example which is given to us of what our 
 nature is capable of accomplishing. Let it teach us, not 
 despair, but courage, and lead us to follow in its light, at 
 however great a distance, and with however unequal steps. 
 This is the lesson of wisdom, as well as of poetry. 
 
 " Lives of great men all remind us 
 We can make our lives sublime, 
 And, dep:irting, leave behind us 
 Footprints on the sands of Time ; 
 
 " Footprints that perhaps another, 
 Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
 A forlorn and shipwreck'd brother, 
 Seeing, may take heart again." 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 469 
 
 When God shall send his Angel to ?^s, Mr. Speaker, 
 bearing the scroll of death, may we be able to bow our 
 heads to his mission with as much of gentleness and resig- 
 nation as marked the last hours of Daniel Webster ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 MR. PRESTON. 
 
 Mr. Speaker : I have been requested, by some of the 
 gentlemen who compose the delegation from my State, to 
 make some remarks upon the subject of the message and 
 resolutions received from the Senate, which have been laid 
 upon your table this morning, in relation to the death of 
 Mr. Webster. It was, in their opinion, peculiarly appro- 
 priate that Kentucky — a State so long associated with 
 Massachusetts in political sympathy, as well as in reciprocal 
 admiration entertained for two of the most eminent men 
 of tlieir day — should come forward and add her testimonial 
 of the esteem in which she held his life and great public 
 services, and the regret she experienced at the calamity 
 which has befallen the country. The mind naturally goes 
 back, in looking over the great career of Daniel Webster, 
 to the period of his birth — seventy years ago. In the 
 northern part of the State of New Hampshire, beneath 
 the roof of his pioneer father, the future statesman first 
 drew the breath of life, and imbibed, amid its picturesque 
 scenery and wild mountains, that freedom of thought, that 
 dignity, and that intellectual health which left so indelible 
 a mark upon his oratory and public career in after-life. No 
 man has earned a greater reputation, in the present time, 
 in forensic endeavor, than Mr. Webster, nor any whose 
 reputation could challenge comparison, unless it bo one wlio 
 was also born in a similar obscure station of life, amid the 
 marshes of Hanover, and whose future led him to cross the 
 summit of the Appalachian range with the great tide of 
 population which poured from Virginia upon the fertile 
 
 ■iO 
 
470 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 plains of Kentucky. Their destiny has been useful, great, 
 and brilliant. From that period to this, these celebrated 
 contemporaries have been conspicuous in the career of 
 public utility to which they devoted their lives, and by 
 their intellectual superiority and dignijfied statesmanship 
 have commanded not only the respect of their several 
 States, but of the nation and of mankind. For forty years 
 they swayed the councils of their country, and the same 
 year sees them consigned to the grave. The statesman of 
 Ashland died in this city, before the foliage of summer was 
 sere, and was sent, with the honors of his country, back to 
 the resting-place which he now occupies in the home of his 
 early adoption. The winds of autumn have swept the stern 
 New England shores — the shores of Plymouth, where the 
 Pilgrim Fathers landed — and caught up the expiring breath 
 of Daniel Webster as he terminated his life of honorable 
 service. The dirges that the night-winds now utter through 
 the primeval forests of Ashland lament for one; the surges 
 of the wintry ocean, as they beat upon the shores of Marsh- 
 field, are a fitting requiem to the other. 
 
 There are two points of particular prominence in the life 
 of Webster to which I will allude. All remember the 
 celebrated struggle of 1830. The greatest minds of the 
 country, seeing the constitutional questions involved from 
 difterent points of view, were embroiled in controversy. 
 The darkest apprehensions were entertained. A gallant 
 and gifted Senator from South Carolina, (General Hayne,) 
 with a genius and fire characteristic of the land of his 
 birth, had expressed the views of his party with great 
 ability, and, as it was thought, with irresistible eloquence. 
 The eyes of the country were directed to Webster as the 
 champion of the Constitution and the Union. Crowds of 
 beautiful women and anxious men on that day thronged 
 the other wing of this Capitol. What patriotic heart in 
 the nation has yet forgotten that noble and memorable 
 reply ? A deep and enthusiastic sentiment of admiration 
 and respect thrilled through the heart of the people, and 
 even yet the triumph of that son of New England is con- 
 secrated in the memory of his countrymen. Subsequently, 
 the Chief Magistrate of the Union, President Jackson, 
 announced opinions of a similar character in his celebrated 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 471 
 
 Proclamation, and men of all parties felt that a new ram- 
 part had been erected for the defence of the Constitution. 
 At a period more recent, within the remembrance of ;tll, 
 Daniel Webster again appeared in another critical enitr- 
 gency that imperilled the safety of the Republic. It was 
 the 7th of March, 1850. Excited by the Territorial ques- 
 tion, the spirit of fanaticism broke forth with fearful vio- 
 lence from the North. But it did not shake his undaunted 
 soul. He gazed with majestic serenity at the storm, and, 
 sublime in his self-reliance, as Virgil describes Mezentius 
 suiTounded by his enemies, 
 
 " He, like a solid rock by seas enclosed. 
 To raging winds and roaring waves exposed, 
 From his proud summit looking down, disdains 
 Their empty menace, and unmoved remains." 
 
 A great portion of the fame of Daniel Webster rests 
 upon the events of that day, and his patriotism having 
 endured the tempest, his reputation shone with fresh lustre 
 after it had passed. Clay and Webster on that day stood 
 linked hand in hand, and averted the pei'ils that menaced 
 their common country. In the last great act of their lives 
 in the Senate, they drew closer the bonds of union between 
 the North and South, like those lofty Cordilleras that, 
 stretching along the Isthmus of Panama, bind in inJi.j- 
 soluble bonds Northern and Southern America, and alike 
 beat back from their rocky sides the fury of either ocean. 
 These, Mr. Speaker and gentlemen of the House, are the 
 memories that make us in our Western homes revere the 
 names of Clay and Webster. 
 
 The gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. Davis,) in his 
 eloquent tribute to the genius and fame of Daniel Web- 
 ster, has chosen to apply to him the remark by which 
 Cicero characterizes Brutus — " Quidquid vult, valdevult." 
 If he will pardon me, I think the description applied by 
 the great orator whom he has quoted to Gracchus is more 
 striking: '"'■ Eloqvenjbm quideni nescio an hahuisset parem : 
 grandis est vei'bis, sapiens sententiis, genere toto gravis." 
 If, however, a i^esemblance prevailed in this respect between 
 Caius Gracchus and Webster, it did not in others. Gracchus, 
 as we are told, was the first Roman orator who turned his 
 
1 
 
 i72 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 back to the capitol and his face to the people ; the popular 
 orators of Rome, anterior to that time, having always 
 turned their faces to the Senate and their backs to the 
 Forum. Webster never sought to subvert the judgment 
 of the people by inflaming their passions. • His sphere was 
 among men of intellect. His power was in convincing the 
 minds of the cultivated and intellectual, rather than by 
 fervid harangues to sway the ignorant or excite the multi- 
 tude. Clay — bold, brilliant, and dashing, rushing at results 
 with that intuition of common sense that outstrips all the 
 processes of logic — always commanded the heart and di- 
 rected the action of his party. Webster seemed deficient 
 in some of these great qualities, but surpassed him in others. 
 He appeared his natural auxiliary. Clay, the most bril- 
 liant parliamentary leader, and probably unequalled, save 
 by the Earl of Chatham, whom he resembled, swept with 
 the velocity of a charge of cavalry on the ranks of his 
 opponents, and often won the victory before others were 
 prepared for the encounter. Webster, with his array of 
 facts, his power of statement, and logical deductions, moved 
 forward like the disciplined and serried infantry, with the 
 measured tread of deliberate resolution and the stately air 
 of irresistible power. 
 
 Daniel Webster is dead. He died without ever having 
 been elevated to the Presidency of the nation. Camillus, 
 the second founder of Rome, never enjoyed the Consulate; 
 but he was not less illustrious because he was not rewarded 
 by the fasces and the consular purple. Before the lustre 
 of Webster's renown, a merely Presidential reputation must 
 grow pale. He has not only left a reputation of unsurpassed 
 lustre in the Senate, but he will also pass down to posterity 
 as the ablest and most profound jurist of his day. As an 
 orator, he had not, as has been correctly observed by a 
 Senator from New York, the vehemence of Demosthenes, 
 nor the splendor of Cicero ; but still Daniel Webster was 
 an orator — an orator marked by the characteristics of the 
 Teutonic race — bold, massive, and replete with manly force 
 and vigor. His writings are marked by a deep philosophy 
 which will cause them to be read when the issues that evoked 
 them have passed away, and the splendor of an imagination, 
 almost as rich as that of Burke, will invest them with at- 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 47o 
 
 trj^ctions alike for the political scholar and the man of 
 letters. 
 
 We should not deplore the death of Webster. It is true 
 the star has shot from the sphere it illuminated, and is lost 
 in the gloom of death ; but he sank full of years and honors, 
 after he had reached the verge of human life, and before 
 his majestic intellect was dimmed or his body bowed down 
 by old age. He did not sink into his grave, like Marlbo- 
 rough, amid the mists of dotage ; but he went while his 
 intellect was unclouded, and the literary remembrances of 
 his youth came thronging to the dying bed of their votary. 
 Napoleon, when he was expiring at St. Helena, muttered 
 disconnected words of command and battle, that showed 
 his turbulent mind still struggled in imaginary conflicts;' 
 but gentler spirits brought to the death-bed of the states- 
 man of Marshfield more consoling memories as he mur- 
 mured, 
 
 " The curfew tolls the knell of parting day," 
 
 and all the tender and mournful beauties of that inimitable 
 elegy clustered around his soul. 
 
 But, sir, I will not venture to say more on this theme. 
 I have said thus much in the name of my native State, to 
 testify her veneration for worth, patriotism, and departed 
 greatness, and to add with proper reverence a handful of 
 earth to the mound a nation raises to the memory of the 
 GREAT SECRETARY, and to Say, Peace be to the manes of 
 Webster. 
 
 IX. 
 
 MR. SEYMOUR, of New York, said:— 
 
 Mr. Speaker : I rise in support of the resolutions 
 oifered by the gentleman from Massachusetts, and in that 
 connection propose to submit a few remarks. 
 
 Sir, our great men are the common property of the 
 country. In the days of our prosperity, we boast of their 
 
 40* 
 
474 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 genius, and enterprise as they advance the general weal. In 
 the hour of a nation's peril, the shadow of their great name 
 is the gathering-point, whither we all turn for guidance and 
 defence ; and whether their laurels have been gathered on 
 the battle-field, in sustaining our rights against hostile 
 nations — in the halls of legislation, devising and enacting 
 those wise and beneficent laws which, by developing the 
 resources, instructing the mind, and directing the energies 
 of the nation, may be traced on the frame-work of society 
 long after their authors have ceased to exist — or in the 
 temple of justice or the sacred desk, regulating the jariing 
 elements of civil life, and making men happier and better 
 — they are all parts of one grand exhibition, showing, 
 through all coming time, what the men of the present age 
 and of our nation have done for the elevation and advance- 
 ment of our race. To chronicle these results of human 
 effort, and to transmit them to future ages, is the province 
 of history. In her temple, the great and the good are 
 embalmed. There they may be seen and read by all those 
 who, in future generations, shall emulate their great deeds. 
 Time, whose constant flow is continually obliterating and 
 changing the physical and social relations of all things, 
 cannot effnce the landmarks which they have raised along 
 the pathway of life. The processes by which they attained 
 the gi-and result, and the associations by which they at the 
 time were surrounded, are unknown or forgotten, while we 
 contemplate the monuments which their genius and heroism 
 have raised. 
 
 Who ''lat reads the story of the battle of Marathon, by 
 which the liberties of Athens were rescued from Persian 
 despotism, stops to inquire to what party in that republic 
 Miltiades belonged? Who that listens to the thunders of 
 Demosthenes, as he moves all Greece to resist the common 
 enemy, attempts to trace his political associations? !So it 
 will be in t!ie future of this republic. The battle of New 
 Orleans will disclose Jackson, the hero and the patriot, 
 saving his country from her enemies. The debates of the 
 Scnate-Chambci- will exhibit Clay, Calhoun, and Webster, 
 illustrating and defending the great principles of our 
 Government by their lofty patriotism and eloquence. On 
 neither picture will be observed whatever we of the present 
 
OBITUARY .ADDRESSES. 475 
 
 time may judge to have savored of the mere politician and 
 the partisan. We, from our near proximity, may see, or 
 think we see, the ill-shapen rocks and the unseemly 
 caverns which disfigure the sides of these mighty Alpine 
 peaks. Future ages will only descry their ever-gilded 
 summits 
 
 "Who, then, shall lis^htly say that Fame 
 Is but an empty name ? 
 When, but for these our mighty dead, 
 
 All ages past a blank would be, 
 Sunk in Oblivion's murky bed — 
 
 A desert bare — a shipless sea. 
 They are the distant objects seen, 
 The lofty marks of what hath been; 
 
 Where memory of the mighty dead, 
 To earth-worn pilgrims' wistful eye 
 
 The brightest rays of cheering shed 
 That point to immortality." 
 
 Sir, I shall not attempt here to even briefly review the 
 public life or delineate the true character of Daniel 
 Webster. That public life, extending through more than 
 forty years of the growth and progress of our country, will 
 doubtless be sketched by those of his compeers who have 
 shared with him in his public service. That character, 
 too, will best be drawn by those intimate friends who 
 knew him best, and who enjoyed the most favorable 
 opportunities for observing the operations of his giant 
 mind. 
 
 In looking at what he has achieved, not only in the 
 fields of legislation, but in those of literature and jurispru- 
 dence, I may say he has left a monument of his industry 
 and genius of which his countrymen may well be proud. 
 His speeches in the Senate and before the assemblies of 
 the people, and his arguments before our highest courts, 
 taken together, form the most valuable .contribution to 
 American literature, language, and oratory which it has 
 been the good fortune of any individual to have yet made. 
 Were I to attempt it, I should be unable to determine on 
 wdiich of the varied scenes of his labors his genius and 
 talents stood pre-eminent. 
 
 His arg-ument in the Dartmouth Collesie case has ever 
 been regarded as a model of forensic debate, exhibiting 
 
4T6 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 the rare combination of the dry logic of the law with the 
 tender, the beautiful, and the sublime. Ilis address 
 before the Historical Society of New York not only 
 exhibited a thorough acquaintance with ancient and 
 modern literature, but was itself a gem whose brilliancy 
 will never cease to attract, even by the side of the great 
 lights of the literary world. Tlie sjMech in the Senate in 
 reply to Hayne, by its powerful argumentation, its sub- 
 limity, and patriotic fervor, placed him at once, by the 
 common consent of mankind, in the front rank of orators. 
 
 But I cannot on this occasion review a life replete with 
 incidents at once evincing the workings of a great mind, 
 and marking important events in the history of the 
 country. I can here only speak of his labors collectively. 
 They were the result of great effort — grand in their con- 
 ception, effective in their execution, and permanent in 
 their influences. 
 
 As a son of his native New England, I am proud to 
 refer back to the plain and unostentatious manners, the 
 rigid discipline, and the early and thorough mental train- 
 ing to be found among the yeomanry of that part of our 
 country, as contributing primarily to the eminent success 
 of Mr. Webster in the business of his life. Born, reared, 
 and educated among the granite hills of New Hampshire, 
 although his attachments to the place of his birth were 
 strong to the last, yet, upon the broad theatre upon which 
 he was called to act his part as a public man, his sympa- 
 thies and his patriotism were bounded only by the confines 
 of the whole republic. 
 
 Although, in common with many of us, I differed in 
 opinion from the late Secretary of State upon grave poli- 
 tical questions, yet, with the great mass of our fellow- 
 citizens, I acknowledge his patriotism, and the force and 
 ability with which he sustained his own opinions. How- 
 ever we may view those opinions, one thing will be con- 
 ceded by all : his feelings were thoroughly American, and 
 his aim the good of his country. In his whole public life, 
 and by his greatest efforts as an orator, he has left deeply 
 impressed on the American mind one great truth, never to 
 be forgotten — the jyreservation of American liberty depends 
 upon the support of the Constitution and the Union oj 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 477 
 
 the States. To have thus linked his name indissolubly 
 with the perpetuity of our institutions is enough of glory 
 for any citizen of the republic. 
 
 X. 
 
 MR. CHANDLER said: 
 
 Mr. Speaker: The selection of the present time to 
 m?ike special and official reference to the death of Mr. 
 Webster may be regarded as fortunate and judicious. An 
 earlier moment would have exposed our eulogies to those 
 exaggerations which, while they do justice in some mea- 
 sure to the feelings whence they spring, are no proofs of 
 sound judgment in the utterer, nor sources of honor to 
 their lamented object. The great departed owe little to 
 the record of their worth, which is made in the midst of 
 sudden emotions, when the freshness of personal inter- 
 course mingles Avith recollections of public virtues, and the 
 object observed through the tears of recent sorrow, bears 
 with it the prismatic hues which distort its fair proportions, 
 and hide that simplicity which is the characteristic of true 
 greatness. And equally just is it to the dead whom we 
 would honor, and to our feelings which would promote that 
 honor, that we have not postponed the season to a period 
 when time would so have mitigated our just regret as 
 to direct our eulogies only to tliose lofty points of Mr. 
 Webster's character which strike but from afar ; Avhich 
 owe their distinction less to their affinities with public 
 sympathy than to their elevation above ordinary ascent 
 and ordinary computation. 
 
 That distance, too, in a government like ours, is danger- 
 ous to a just homage to the distinguished dead, however 
 willing may be the survivor ; for smaller objects intervene, 
 and by proximity hide the proportions which we survey 
 from afar, and diminish that just appreciation which is 
 necessary to the honorable praise that is to perpetuate 
 public fame. 
 
478 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 Mr. Webster was a distinguished statesman, — tried, sir, 
 in nearly all the various positions which, in our Govern- 
 ment, the civilian is called on to fill, and in all these 
 places the powers of a gifted mind, strengthened and im- 
 proved by a practical education, were the great means by 
 which he achieved success, and patriotism the motive of 
 their devotion. With all Mr. Webster's professional great- 
 ness, with all his unrivalled powers in the Senate, with his 
 great distinction as a diplomatist, he was fond of credit as 
 a scholar ; and his attainments, if not of the kind which 
 gives eminence to merely literary men, were such as gave 
 richness and terseness to his own composition, and vigor 
 and attraction to his conversation. His mind was moulded 
 to the strong conception of the epic poet, rather than the 
 gentle phrase of the didactic ; and his preference for na- 
 tural scenery seemed to partake of his literary taste — it 
 was for the strong, the elevated, the grand. His child- 
 hood and youth joyed in the rough sides of the mountains 
 of New Hampshire, and his age found a delightful repose 
 on the wild shores of Massachusetts Bay. He was a lover 
 of Nature, not in her holiday suit of field and flower, but 
 in those wild exhibitions of broken coast and isolated hills, 
 that seem to stir the mind into activity, and provoke it 
 into emulation of the grandeur with which it is surrounded. 
 Yet, sir, Mr. Webster had with him much of the gentleness 
 which gives beauty to social life, and dignity and attrac- 
 tion to the domestic scene, just as the rugged coast is 
 often as placid as the gentlest lake, and the summit of the 
 roughest hill is frequently bathed in the softest sunlight, 
 and clad in flowers of the most delicate hues. Mr. Web- 
 ster's person was strongly indicative of the character of 
 his mind ; not formed for the lighter graces, but graceful 
 in the noblest uses of manhood; remarkable in the state- 
 liness of his movements, and dignified in the magnificence 
 of its repose. Mr. Webster could scarcely pass unnoticed, 
 even where unknown. There was that in his mien which 
 attracted attention, and awakened interest; and his head, 
 (whether his countenance was lighted by a smile, such as 
 only he could give, or fixed by contemplation, such as only 
 he could indulge) seemed an 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 479 
 
 " arch'd and ponderous roof. 
 By its own weijrht made steadfast and immovable, 
 Looking tranquillity !" 
 
 With all Mr. Webster's lofty gifts and attainments, he 
 was ambitious. Toiling upward from the base of the poli- 
 tical ladder, it is not to be denied that he desired to set his 
 foot upon the utmost round. This could not have been a 
 thirst for power : nothing of a desire for the exercise of 
 absolute authority could have been in that aspiration ; for 
 the only absolute power left (if any be left) by the Consti- 
 tution in the Executive of this nation is "mercy." In 
 Mr. Webster it was the distinction which the place con- 
 ferred, and the sphere of usefulness it presented. He 
 regarded it as the crowning glory of his public life — a 
 glory earned by his devotion of unparalleled talents and 
 unsurpassed statemanship. This ambition in Mr. Webster 
 was modesty. He could not see, as others saw and felt, 
 that no political elevation was necessary to the completion 
 of his fame or the distinction of his statesmanship. It Avas 
 not for him to understand that the last round of political 
 preferment, honornble as it is, and made more honorable 
 by the lustre which purity of motive, great talents, and 
 devoted patriotism are now shedding down upon it, — he 
 could not understand that preferment, honorable as it is, 
 was unnecessary to him ; that it could add nothing to his 
 political stature, nor enlarge the horizon of his comprehen- 
 sive views. It is the characteristic of men of true great- 
 ness, of exalted talents, to comprehend the nature and 
 power of the gifts they possess. That, sir, is a homage 
 to God, who "bestows them. But it is also their mis- 
 fortune to be dissatisfied with the means and opportuni- 
 ties they have possessed to exercise those gifts to great 
 national purposes. This is merely distrust of them- 
 selves. The world, sir, comprehends the uses of the 
 talents of great statesmen, j^nd gives them credit for 
 their masterly powers, without asking that those powers 
 should be tried in every position in which public men may 
 be placed. 
 
 I see not in all the character, gifts, and attainments of 
 Mr. Webster, any illustration of the British orator's ex- 
 clamation, rehitive to '^ the shadows which we are;" nor 
 
480 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 do I discover in tlie splendid career and the aims of his 
 lofty ambition any thing to prove "what shadows we 
 pursue." 
 
 The life of such a man as Daniel Webster is one of 
 solid greatness ; and the objects he pursued are worthy of 
 a being; made in the imao-e of God. A life of honorable 
 distinction is a substantive and permanent object. The 
 good of man, and the true glory and happiness of his 
 country, are the substantial things, the record of which 
 generation hands down to generation, inscribed with the 
 name of him who pursued them. 
 
 I will not, sir, trespass on this House by any attempt to 
 sketch the character, or narrate the services of Mr. Web- 
 ster ; too many will have a share in this day's exercise to 
 allow one speaker so extensive a range. It is enough for 
 me, if, in obeying the indications of others, I give to my 
 effort the tone of respect with which tlie statesman and the 
 patriot, Webster, was regarded, as well by the nation at 
 large as by those whom I have the honor to represent on 
 this floor. And in the remarks of those whose means of 
 judging have been better than mine, will be found his cha- 
 racteristics of social and domestic life. 
 
 How keenly Mr. Webster relished the relaxations which 
 public duties sometimes allowed, I had an opportunity of 
 judging ; for he loved to call to my recollections scenery 
 which had been familiar to me in childhood, as it was 
 lovely to him in age. The amusements, in which he grati- 
 fied a manly taste in the midst of that scenery, were pro- 
 motive of physical recuperation, rendered necessary by 
 the heavy demands of professional or official life. He was 
 stimulated to thought by the activity which the pursuits on 
 land required, or led to deep contemplation by the calm- 
 ness of the ocean on which he rested. Though dying in 
 office, Mr. Webster was permitted to breathe his last in 
 those scenes made classical to others by his uses, and dear 
 to him by their ministrations to, and correspondence with, 
 his taste. 
 
 The good of his country undoubtedly occupied the last 
 moments of his ebbing life ; but those moments were not 
 disturbed by the immediate pressure of official duties; and 
 in the dignity of domestic quiet, he passed onward; and 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 481 
 
 "while at a distance communities awaited in grief and awe 
 the signal of his departure, the deep diapason of the At- 
 lantic wave, as it broke upon his own shore, was a fitting 
 requiem for such a parting spirit. 
 
 XI. 
 
 MR. BAYLY, of Virginia, remarked : 
 
 I had been, sir, nearly two years a member of Congress 
 before I made Mr. Webster's acquaintance. About that 
 time a proceeding was instituted here, of a delicate cha- 
 racter so far as he was concerned, and incidentally con- 
 cerning an eminent constituent and friend of mine. This 
 circumstance first brought me into intercoui'se with Mr. 
 Webster. Subsequently, I transacted a good deal of 
 ofiicial business with him, some of it 'also of a delicate 
 character. I thus had unusual opportunities of forming 
 an opinion of the man. The acquaintance I made with 
 him, under the circumstances to which I have referred, 
 ripened into friendship. It is to these circumstances that 
 I, a political opponent, am indebted for the honor, as I 
 esteem it, of having been requested to say something on 
 this occasion. 
 
 From my early manhood, of course, sir, I have been 
 well acquainted with Mr. Webster's public character, and 
 I had formed my ideal of him as a man ; and what a mis- 
 conception of it was that ideal ! Rarely seeing him in 
 public places, in familiar intercourse with his friends, con- 
 templating his grave, statue-like appearance in the Senate 
 and the Forum, I had formed the conception that he was 
 a frigid, iron-bound man, whom few could approach without 
 constraint ; and I undertake to say that — until of late 
 years, in which, through personal sketches of him by his 
 friends, the public has become acquainted with his private 
 
 character — such was the idea most persons who knew him 
 
 ■ii 
 
482 OBITUARY ADDRESSES, 
 
 only as I did formed of him. Yet, sir, what a misconcep- 
 tion ! No man could appreciate Mr. Webster -who did 
 not know him privately. No man could appreciate him 
 who did not see him in familiar intercourse with his 
 friends, and especially around his own fireside and table. 
 There, sir, he was confiding, gay, and sometimes down- 
 right boyish. Full of racy anecdotes, he told them in the 
 most captivating manner. 
 
 Who that ever heard his descriptions of men and things 
 can ever forget them ? Mr. Webster, sir, attached a pe- 
 culiar meaning to the word talk, and in his sense of the 
 term he liked to talk ; and who that ever heard him talk 
 can forget that talk ? Sometimes it was the most playful 
 wit, then the most pleasing philosophy. Mr. Webster, 
 sir, owed his greatness, to a large extent, to his native 
 gifts. 
 
 Among his contemporaries there were lawyers more 
 learned, yet he was, by common consent, assigned the first 
 place at the American bar. As a statesman, there were 
 those more thoroughly informed than he, yet Avhat states- 
 man ranked above him ? Among orators there Avere those 
 more graceful and 'impressive, yet what orator was greater 
 than he ? There were scholars more ripe, yet who wrote 
 better English ? The characteristics of his mind were 
 massive strength and classic beauty, combined with a rare 
 felicity. His favorite studies, if I may judge from his 
 conversations, were the history and the Constitution of "his 
 own country, and the history and the Constitution of Eng- 
 land ; and I undertake to say that there is not now a man 
 living who was more perfectly familiar with both. His 
 favorite amusements, too, if I may judge in the same way, 
 were field-sports and out-door exercise. I have frequently 
 heard Mr. AYebster say, if he had been a merchant, he 
 would have been an out-door partner. Mr. Webster was, 
 as all great men are, eminently magnanimous. As proof 
 of this, see his whole life, and especially that crowning 
 act of magnanimity, — his letter to Mr. Dickinson. Mr. 
 Webster had no envy or jealousy about him — as no great 
 man ever had. Conscious of his own powers, he envied 
 those of no one else. Mr, Calhoun and himself entered 
 public life about the same time ; each of them strove for 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 483 
 
 tlie first honors of the Republic. They were statesmen of 
 rival schools. They frequently met in the stern encounter 
 of debate, and when they met the conflict was a conflict of 
 giants. Yet how delightful it was to hear Mr, Webster 
 speak, as I have heard him speak, in the most exalted 
 terms of Calhoun ; and how equally delightful it was to 
 hear Mr. Calhoun, as I have heard him, speak in like terms 
 of Webster ! On one occasion, Mr. Calhoun, speaking to 
 me of the characteristics of Webster as a debater, said 
 that he was remarkable in this — that he always stated the 
 argument of his antagonist fairly, and boldly met it. He 
 said he had even seen him state the argument of his oppo- 
 nent more forcibly than his opponent had stated it himself;, 
 and, if he could not answer it, he would never undertake to 
 weaken it by misrepresenting it. What a compliment was 
 this, coming, as it did, from his great rival in constitutional 
 law ! I have also heard Mr. Calhoun say that Mr. Web- 
 ster tried to aim at truth more than any statesman of his 
 day. 
 
 A short time since, Mr. Speaker, when addressing the 
 House, at the invitation of the delegation from Kentucky, 
 on the occasion of Mr. Clay's death, I used this lan- 
 guage : 
 
 " Sir, it is but a short time since the American Congress 
 buried the first one that went to the grave of that great 
 triumvirate, (Calhoun.) We are now called upon to bury 
 another, (Clay.) The third, thank God ! still lives ; and 
 long may he live to enlighten his countrymen by his wis- 
 dom, and set them the example of exalted patriotism. 
 [x\las ! how little did I think, when I uttered these words, 
 that my wish was so soon to be disappointed !] Sir, in the 
 lives and characters of these great men there is much re- 
 sembling those of the great triumvirate of the British 
 Parliament. It diff'ers principally in this : Bui'ke preceded 
 Fox and Pitt to the tomb. Webster survives Clay and 
 Calhoun. When Fox and Pitt died, they left no peer be- 
 hind them. Webster still lives, now that Calhoun and 
 Clay are dead, the unrivalled statesman of his country. 
 Like Fox and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun lived in troubled 
 times. Like Fox and Pitt, thisy were each of them the 
 leader of rival parties. Like Fox and Pitt, they were 
 
484 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 idolized by their respective friends. Like Fox and Pitt, 
 they died about the same time, and in the public service ; 
 and, as has been said of Fox and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun 
 died with ' their harness upon them.' Like Fox and 
 Pitt— 
 
 " ' With more than mortal powers endow'd, 
 How high they soar'd above the crowd ! 
 Theirs was no common party race, 
 Jostling by dark intrigue for place. 
 Like fabled gods their mighty war 
 Sliook realms and nations in its jar. 
 Beneath each banner, proud to stand, 
 Look'd up the noblest of the land. 
 ****** 
 * Here let their discord with them die. 
 
 Speak not for those a separate doom 
 Whom fate made brothers in the tomb ; 
 But search the land of living men. 
 Where wilt thou find their like again ?' " 
 
 I may reproduce on this occasion, Avith propriety, what 
 I then said, with the addition of the names of Burke and 
 Webster. The parallel that I undertook to run on that 
 occasion, by the aid of a poet, was not designed to be per- 
 fect, yet it might be strengthened by lines from another 
 poet. For though Webster's enemies must admit, as 
 Burke's satirist did, that — 
 
 " Too fond of the right to pursue the expedient,'" 
 
 yet, what satirist, with the last years of Webster's life 
 before him, will undertake to shock the public sentiment of 
 America by saying, as was unjustly said of Bui'ke by his 
 satirist — 
 
 "Born for the universe, he nari-ow'd his mind, 
 And to party gave up what was meant for mankind" ? 
 
 Mr. Speaker, during the brief period I have served with 
 you in this House, what sad havoc has Death made among 
 the statesmen of our Republic ! Jackson, Wright, Polk, 
 McDuffie, and Sergeant, in private life, and Woodbury, 
 from the bench, have gone to the tomb ! We have buried 
 in that short time Adams, Calhoun, Taylor, and Clay, and 
 we are now called on to pay the last tribute of our respect < 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 485 
 
 to the memory of Daniel Webster. Well may I ask, in 
 the language of the poem already quoted — 
 
 " Where wilt thou find their like again ?" 
 
 There was little, I fear, in the history of the latter days 
 of some of those great men to whom I have alluded to in- 
 spire the young men of our country to emulate them in 
 the labors and sacrifices of public life. Yet there never 
 was a time when there was a stronger obligation of pa- 
 tiiotic duty on us to emulate them in that respect than 
 now. 
 
 They followed one race of Revolutionary statesmen — 
 they were the second generation of statesmen of our 
 country. With one or two brilliant exceptions, that second 
 generation has passed away, and those that now have 
 charge of public affairs, with the exceptions referred to, 
 are emphatically new men. God grant we have the pa- 
 triotism to follow faithfully in the footsteps of those who 
 preceded us ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 MR. STANLEY said : 
 
 Mr. Speaker : I feel that it is proper and becoming in 
 me, as the representative of a people who claim the reputa- 
 tion of Daniel Webster as part of their most valuable pro- 
 perty, to add a few words to what has been already said. 
 I do not think that it is necessary to his fame to do so. I 
 have no idea of attempting a eulogy on Daniel Webster. 
 It would be presumptuous to attempt it. Long before my 
 entrance into public life, I heard from an illustrious citizen 
 of my native State, (the late Judge Gaston,) that Mr. 
 Webster, who was his contemporary in Congress, gave 
 early indication of the wonderful abilities which he after- 
 ward displayed. There were giants in the land in those 
 days, and by them Webster was regarded as one who would 
 earn great distinction. Before he reached the height of 
 
 41* 
 
486 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 his fame the young men in our land had heen taught to 
 respect him. This Avas the feeling of those who came 
 forward on the stao;e of life with me. In what lantruaf!;e, 
 then, can I express my admiration of those splendid abili- 
 ties which have delighted and instructed his countrymen, 
 and charmed the lovers of republican government through- 
 out the earth? How shall 1 find fitting terms to speak of 
 his powers in conversation — his many good qualities in 
 social life — his extraordinary attainments — his exalted pa- 
 triotism ? Sir, I shrink from the task. 
 
 Gifted men from the pulpit, eloquent Senators at home 
 and in the Senate, orators in Northern and Southern and 
 Western States, have gratified the public mind by doing 
 honor to his memory. To follow in a path trodden by so 
 many superior men requires more boldness than I possess. 
 But 1 cannot forbear to say that we North Carolinians 
 sympathize with Massachusetts in her loss. We claim him 
 as our Webster, as we do the memories of her great men 
 of the Revolution. Though he has added glory to the 
 bright name of Massachusetts, he has been the defender 
 of that Constitution which has surrounded, with impreg- 
 nable bulwarks, the invaluable blessings of civil liberty. 
 When he made Massachusetts hearts throb with pride that 
 she had such a man to represent her in the councils of the 
 nation, we, too, felt proud at her joy, for her glory is our 
 glory. 
 
 i'aneuil Hall is in Boston, and Boston in Massachusetts; 
 but the fame of those whose eloquence from those walls 
 fanned the fire of liberty in the hearts of American pa- 
 triots, and made tyrants tremble on their thrones, is the 
 fame of the American people. 
 
 Faneuil Hall ! Daniel Webster ! What glorious associa- 
 tions do these words recall ! 
 
 The American patriot who hereafter performs his pil- 
 grimage to that time-honored hall, and looks at his por- 
 trait, appropriately placed there, will involuntarily repeat 
 what the poet said of the Webster of poets : 
 
 " Here Nature listening stood, -while Shakspeare play'd, 
 And Tvondei'd at the work herself had made." 
 
 Daniel Webster was to the Revolutionary patriots of 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 487 
 
 Massachusetts, to the founders of our Constitution in the 
 Old Thirteen States, Avhat Homer was to the ancient heroes. 
 Their deeds would have lived without him. Their memories 
 Avould have been cherished bj their countrymen had Web- 
 ster never spoken. But who can say that his mighty ability, 
 his power of lunguage, unequalled throughout the world — 
 who can say he has not embalmed their memories, painted 
 their deeds in beautiful drapery, and by the might of his 
 genius held them up in captivating form to his countrymen? 
 Who is tiiere on the habitable globe, wherever man is struf^- 
 gling for freedom, Avherever Washington's name is heard 
 and reverenced — who is there who Avill ever read the his- 
 tory of those immortal men who achieved our liberties, and 
 founded with almost supernatural wisdom our Constitution 
 and republican form of government — who can ever read 
 the history of these great men without saying, they achieved 
 much, they performed great and noble deeds, but Web- 
 ster's oratory has emblazoned them to the world and 
 erected monuments to their memories more enduring than 
 marble ? Can man aspire to higher honor than to have his 
 name associated with such men ? This honor, by universal 
 consent, Daniel Webster, the son of a JS'ew Hampshire 
 farmer, has secured. Wherever liberty is prized on earth, 
 in whatever quarter of the globe the light of our "great 
 republic" is seen, sending its cheering beams to the heart 
 of the lonely exile of oppression — in that land, and to that 
 heart, will the name of Webster be held in grateful re- 
 membrance. As we cannot think of the founders of our 
 liepublic without thinking of Webster, we cannot speak of 
 his services properly except in his own words. How many 
 of us, in and out of Congress, since his death, have re- 
 called his memorable words, in his eulogium on Adams and 
 Jefferson ! Hear him in that discourse : 
 
 "Adams and Jeft'erson, I have said, are no more. As 
 human beings, indeed, they are no more. They are no 
 more, as in 1776, bold and fearless advocates of inde- 
 pendence ; no more, as on subsequent periods, the head 
 of the Government; no more, as we have recently seen 
 them, aged and venerable objects of admiration and regard. 
 They are no more. They are dead. But how little is 
 there of the great and good which can die ! To their 
 
488 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 country they yet live, and live forever. They live in all 
 that perpetuates the remembrance of men on earth ; in 
 the recorded proofs of their great actions ; in the offspring 
 of their intellect ; in the deep and grave lines of public 
 gratitude, and in the respect and homage of mankind. 
 They live in their example; and they live, emphatically, 
 and will live, in the influence which their lives and efforts, 
 their principles and opinions, now exercise, and will con- 
 tinue to exercise, on the affairs of men, not only in their 
 country, but throughout the civilized world. A superior 
 and commanding human intellect, a truly great man, when 
 Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is not a temporary flame, 
 burning bright for a while, and then expiring, giving place 
 to returning darkness. It is rather a spark of fervent 
 heat as well as radiant light, with power to enkindle the 
 common mass of human mind ; so that when it glimmers 
 in its own decay, and finally goes out in death, no night 
 follows, but it leaves the world all light, all on fire, from 
 the potent contact of its own spirit. Bacon died, but the 
 human understanding, roused by the touch of his mira- 
 culous wand to a perception of the true philosophy, and 
 the just mode of inquiring after truth, has kept on its 
 course, successfully and gloriously. Newton died, yet the 
 courses of the spheres are still known, and they yet move 
 on in the orbits which he saw and described for them in 
 the infinity of space." 
 
 Who can hear these words without feeling how appro- 
 priate and applicable to the great American statesman? 
 To his country he "still lives," and will live forever. 
 
 Mr. Speaker, I fear to go on. The thoughts which are 
 in my mind are not worthy of the great subject. I have 
 read and heard so much from the able, learned, and elo- 
 quent of our land in his praise, I shrink from attempting 
 to add any thing more. 
 
 In justice to the feelings of those I represent, I felt 
 solicitous to cast my pebble on the pile which was erecting 
 to his memory. » They venerate his memory, not only for 
 those services to which I have referred, but also for his 
 later exhibitions of patriotism, in stemming the torrent of 
 temporary excitement at home. The year 1852, Mr. 
 Speaker, will long be memorable in the annals of our 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 489 
 
 country. In this year, three great lights of our age and 
 our country have gone out. But a few months since, the 
 voice of lamentation was heard from the Atlantic to the 
 Pacific shore that Henry Clay was no more. The sounds 
 of sorrow had scarcely died in our ears, when inexorable 
 Death, striking with remorseless hand at the cottage of the 
 peasant and the palace of the great — Death, as if to send 
 terror to our souls by showing us that the greatest in place 
 and in genius are but men — has destroyed all that was 
 mortal of Daniel Webster. 
 
 And even while we were celebrating his obsequies, the 
 sagacious statesman, the wise counsellor, the pure and up- 
 right man, John Sergeant, of Pennsylvania — the man who 
 more happily combined the suaviter in modo with the 
 fortiter in re than any public man I ever met with — the 
 model of that best of all characters, a Christian gentleman, 
 always loving "whatsoever things are true, honest, just, 
 lovely, and of good report," — John Sergeant is called to 
 that beatific vision reserved for "the pure in heart." 
 
 Let it be our pleasure, as it will be our duty, to teach 
 those who come after us to imitate the private virtues, re- 
 member the public services, and cherish the reputation of 
 these illustrious men. And Avhile we do this, let us cherish, 
 with grateful remembrance and honest pride, the thought 
 that these great men were not only lovers of liberty, friends 
 of republican institutions, and patriots devoted to the ser- 
 vice of their country, but that they were, with sincere con- 
 viction, believers in the Christian religion. Without this 
 praise, the Corinthian column of their characters would be 
 deprived at once of the chief ornament of its capital and 
 the solidity of its base. 
 
 I fervently hope the lessons we have had of the certainty 
 of death will not be lost upon us. May they make us less 
 fond of the pleasures of this world, so rapidly passing 
 away ! May they cause those who are in high places of 
 trust and honor to remember, now in the days of health, 
 manhood, and prosperity, that 
 
 " The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth, e'er gave 
 Await alike the inevitable hour : 
 
 The paths of glory lead but to the grave I" 
 
490 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 MR. TAYLOR, of Ohio, said: 
 
 Mr. Speaker : In the Congress of 1799, when the an- 
 nouncement of the death of Ge-'eral Washington was made 
 in this body, appropriate resolutions were passed to express 
 the high appreciation of the representatives of tlie people of 
 the pre-eminent public services of the Father of his Country, 
 and profound grief for their loss. His death was considered 
 a great national calamity ; and, in the beautiful and appro- 
 priate language of General Henry Lee, who prepared the re- 
 solutions introduced by John Marshall, he was proclairned as 
 having been "first in war, first in peace, and first in the 
 hearts of his countrymen." The whole nation cordially re- 
 sponded to that sentiment, and from that day to this, the 
 high eulogium has been adopted by the people of the United 
 States of America, as the just and expressive tribute to the 
 greatest man, take him all in all, that our country had then, 
 or has since, produced. Time rolled on, and the sentiment 
 of his own country has, of late years, become the intelli- 
 gent opinion of the whole world. And in proof of this 
 I might cite, among others, the deliberately-recorded opi- 
 nions of the late premier Guizot, of France, and the great 
 though eccentric writer and statesman, Brougham, of Eng- 
 land, men of vast celebrity. 
 
 Our country, then in its infancy, has grown up, in little 
 more than half a century, to be the first republic in the 
 world, having increased from three or four millions to 
 nearly twenty-five millions of inhabitants, and extending 
 from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, During the present 
 year the nation has been called upon to mourn the death 
 of two of her distinguished citizens, — two men born since 
 the establishment of our independence, cradled in the Re- 
 volution, and brought up, as it were, at the feet of the 
 fathers of the republic, whose long public career has 
 attracted to them and all that concerned them, more than 
 to any others, the admiration, the gratitude, and the hope 
 of the whole people. These men — Henry Clay and Daniel 
 Webster — have both been gathered to their fathers during 
 
OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 491 
 
 the present year. When, during our last session, the offi- 
 cial announcement Avas made in this House of the death 
 of Henry Clay, I listened with heartfelt sympathy to the 
 eloquent and beautiful eulogies then pronounced upon hia 
 character, and felt in the fulness of my heart the truest 
 grief. As one of the representatives of the great and 
 prosperous State of Ohio on this floor, I desired then to 
 mingle my humble voice with those who eagerly sought to 
 honor his memory. But no opportunity was afibrded me, 
 and I could only join with meekness of spirit and a bowed 
 mind in the appropriate funeral honors which were ren- 
 dered to the illustrious dead by Congress. And I only 
 now desire to say, that no State in this Union, not even 
 his own beloved Kentucky, more deeply felt the great loss 
 which, in the death of Mr. Clay, the nation had sustained, 
 than the State of Ohio ; and the public meetings of her 
 citizens, without distinction of party, in the city in which 
 I reside, and many other parts of the State, expressed, in 
 appropriate and feeling terms, their high estimate of his 
 great public services, and their profound grief for his 
 death. 
 
 And now, sir, since the adjournment of Congress, at its 
 last session, he who co-operated with Mr. Clay in the legis- 
 lative and executive departments, at various times for 
 nearly forty years, and to whom, with his great com- 
 patriot, more than to any others, the people looked for 
 counsel, and for security and peace, — he, too, has paid the 
 debt of nature, and will never more be seen among men. 
 The formal announcement in this body of the death of 
 Daniel Webster has elicited just and eloquent tributes to 
 his memory, and brings freshly to our view the beautiful 
 traits of his private character, and his great and long- 
 continued public services in the Senate and in one of the 
 executive departments of the Government. In all that is 
 said in commendation of the private virtues and pre-emi- 
 nent public services of Daniel Webster I heartily concur ; 
 and I wish, sir, that I could find words sufficiently strong 
 and appropriate to express what, in my judgment, were 
 the great claims of these two eminent men upon the admi- 
 ration and upon the gratitude of their countrymen. They 
 were in many respects exemplars for the young men of 
 
492 OBITUARY ADDRESSES. 
 
 our country. Born (without any of the advantages con- 
 ferred sometimes by wealth and position) in humble life ; 
 struggling with adversities in their earlier years, triumph- 
 ing over all obstacles by their native strength of intellect, 
 by their genius and by their persevering industry and 
 great energy, they placed themselves in the very first rank 
 of. American statesmen, and for more than forty years 
 were the great leaders of the American mind, and among 
 the brightest guardians of their common country. 
 
 Sir, it was my good fortune to have known, for many 
 years, both these great patriots, and to have enjoyed their 
 friendship ; and I think I but express the general senti- 
 ment of the intelligent people of this great country when 
 I say that our country is, in a very large degree, indebted 
 to them for its present unexampled prosperity, for its 
 peace and domestic happiness, and for its acknowledged 
 power and high renown all over the world. In my judg- 
 ment, the words of the national legislature, so beautifully 
 and aptly embodying the true character of the Father of 
 his Countx-y, were not more appropriately uttered then in 
 reference to him than they might be applied now, so far as 
 relates to the civil affairs and action of our Government 
 within the last forty years, to Henry Clay and Daniel 
 Webster ; and it may be properly said of them, that, 
 within that time, they have been, emphatically, " first in 
 war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of their coun- 
 trymen." But, sir, the great men of a country must die; 
 and, if the great men of a country are pre-eminently good 
 men, their loss is the more severely felt. Nothing human 
 is perfect ; and I am far from believing, much less from 
 asserting, that the eminent men of whom I have spoken 
 were without defects of character. But I believe their 
 virtues so far outweighed the imperfections of their nature, 
 that to dwell upon such defects, on this occasion, would be 
 as unprofitable and futile as to object to the light, and 
 heat, and blessings of the glorious sun, guided by the 
 Omnipotent hand, because an occasional shadow or spot 
 may be seen on his disk. These guardians of our country 
 have passed away, but their works and good examples are 
 left for our guidance, and are part of the lasting and 
 valued possessions of this nation. And, Mr. Speaker, 
 
EDWARD EVERETT'S ADDRESS. 493 
 
 "When the bright guardians of a country cUe 
 The grateful tear in tenderness will start • 
 And the keen anguish of a reddening eye ' 
 Disclose the deep affliction of the heart " 
 
 XIV. 
 
 EDWARD EVERETT'S ADDRESS ON THE DEATH OF MR 
 WEBSTER, DELIVERED IN BOSTON. 
 
 Mr. Mayor axd Fellow-Citizens: I 'never rose to 
 address an assembly ^vhen I was so little fit, body or mind 
 to perform the duty ; and I never felt so keenly how in- 
 adequate are words to express such an emotion as mani- 
 testly pervades this meeting, in common with the whole 
 country J here is but one voice that ever fell upon my 
 ear which could do justice to such an occasion. That 
 voice, alas we, shall hear no more forever. No more at 
 the bar will it unfold the deepest mysteries of the law • no 
 more will it speak conviction to admiring Senates-' no 
 more m this hall, the chosen theatre of his intellectual 
 dominion, will it lift the soul as with the swell of the peal- 
 ing organ, or stir the blood with the tones of a clarion in 
 the inmost chambers of the heart. ' 
 
 We are assembled, fellow-citizens, to pour out the ful- 
 ness of our feelings ; not in vain attempt to do honor to 
 the great man who is taken from us ; most assuredly, not 
 with the presumptuous hope on any part to magnify his 
 name and his praise. They are spread throughout the 
 land. From East to West, and from North to South, 
 (which he knew, as he told you, only that he might em- 
 brace them in the arms of loving patriotism,) a voice of 
 lamentation has already gone forth, such as has not echoed 
 throughout the land since the death of him who was " first 
 in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his coun- 
 trymen." 
 
 You have listened, fellow-citizens, to the resolutions 
 which have been submitted to you by Colonel Heard. I 
 
494 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 thank him for offering them. It does honor to his heart, 
 and to those with whom he acts in politics, and whom, I 
 have no doubt, he well represents, that he has stepped 
 forward so liberally on this occasion. The resolutions are 
 emphatic, sir, but I feel that they do not say too much. 
 No one will think that they overstate the magnitude of our 
 loss, Avho is capable of appreciating a character like that 
 of Daniel Webster. Who of us, fellow-citizens, that has 
 known him — that has witnessed the masterly skill with 
 which he would pour the full effulgence of his mind on 
 some contested legal and constitutional principle, till what 
 seemed hard and obscure became as plain as day ; who 
 that has seen him, in all the glory of intellectual as- 
 cendency, 
 
 ' Ride on the whirlwind and direct the storm" 
 
 of parliamentary conflict ; who that has drank of the pure, 
 fresh air of wisdom and thought in the volumes of his 
 writings ; who, alas, sir, that has seen him 
 
 " in his happier hour 
 Of social pleasure, ill exchanged for power," 
 
 that has come within the benignant fascination of his 
 smile, has felt the pressure of his hand, and tasted the 
 sweets of his fireside eloquence, will think that the resolu- 
 tions say too much? 
 
 No, fellow-citizens, we come together not to do honor to 
 him, but to do justice to ourselves. We obey an impulse 
 from within. Such a feeling cannot be pent up in solitude. 
 We must meet neighbor with neighbor, citizen with citizen, 
 man with man, to sympathize with each other. If we did 
 not, mute nature would rebuke us. The granite hills of 
 New Hampshire, within whose shadow he drew his first 
 breath, would cry shame : Plymouth Rock, which all but 
 moved at his approach ; the slumbering echoes of this hall, 
 which rung so grandly with his voice, that " silent but ma- 
 jestic orator," which rose in no mean degree at his com- 
 mand on Bunker Hill, — all, all, would cry out at our de- 
 generacy and ingratitude. 
 
 Mr. Chairman, I do not stand here to pronounce the 
 
EDWARD Everett's address. 495 
 
 eulogy of Mr. Webster ; it is not necessary. Eulogy has 
 already performed her first offices to his memory. As the 
 mournful tidings have flashed through the country, the 
 highest officers of nation and State, the most digniiicd 
 official bodip, the most prominent individuals, without dis- 
 tinction of party, the press of the country, the great voice 
 of the land, all have spoken, and with one accord of opi- 
 nion and feeling ; with a unanimity that does honor at once 
 to the object of this touching attestation, and to those who 
 make it. The record of his life, from the humble roof 
 beneath which he was born, (with no inheritance but 
 poverty and an honored name,) up through the arduous 
 paths of manhood, which he trod with lion heart and giant 
 steps, till they conducted him to the helm of state, — this 
 stirring narrative, not unfamiliar before, has, with melan- 
 choly promptitude, within the last three days, been again 
 sent abroad through the length and breadth of the land. 
 It has spread from the Atlantic to the Mississippi. Strug- 
 gling poverty has been cheered afresh ; honest ambition 
 has been kindled, patriotic resolve has been invigorated ; 
 while all have mourned. 
 
 The poor boy at the village school has taken comfort as 
 he has read that the time was when Daniel Webster, whose 
 father told him he shouM go to college if he had to sell 
 every acre of his farm to pay the expense, laid his bead 
 on the shoulder of that fond and discerning parent, and 
 wept the thanks he could not speak. The pale student who 
 ekes out his scanty support by extra toil has gathered com- 
 fort when reminded that the first jurist, statesman, and 
 orator of the time earned with his weary fingers, by the 
 midnight lamp, the means of securing the same advantages 
 of education to a beloved brother. Every true-hearted 
 citizen throughout the Union has felt an honest pride as 
 he reperuses the narrative, in reflecting that he lives be- 
 neath a Constitution and a Government under which such 
 a man has been formed and trained, and that he himself 
 is compatriot with him. He does more, sir ; he reflects 
 with gratitude that in consequence of what that man has 
 done and written, and said— in the result of his eff"orts to 
 strengthen the pillars of the Union — a safer inheritance of 
 
496 EULOGIES OX WEBSTER. 
 
 civil liberty, a stronger assurance that these blessings will 
 endure, will descend to his children. 
 
 I know, Mr. Mayor, how presumptuous it would be to 
 dwell on any personal causes of grief, in the presence of 
 this august sorrow Avhich spreads its dark wiugs over the 
 land. You Avill not, however, be offended, if; by way of 
 apology for putting myself forward on this occasion, I say 
 that my relations with jMr. Webster run further back than 
 those of altuost any one in this community. They began 
 the first year he came to live in Boston. When I was but 
 ten or eleven years old, I attended a little private school in 
 Short Street, (as it was then called ; it is now the continua- 
 tion of Kingston Street,) kept by the late Hon. Ezekiel Web- 
 ster, the elder brother to whom I have alluded, and a bro- 
 ther worthy of his kindred. Owing to iUness, or some 
 other en use of absence on his part, the school was kept for 
 a short time by Daniel Webster, then a student of law in 
 Mr. Gore's office ; and on this occasion, forty-seven or forty- 
 eight years ago, and I a child of ten, our acquaintance, 
 never intorrupted, began. 
 
 When 1 entered public life, it was with his encouragement. 
 In 1838, 1 acted, fellow-citizens, as your organ in the great 
 ovation which you gave him in this hall. When he came to 
 the Department of State, in 1841, it was on his recom- 
 mendation that I, living in the utmost privacy beyond the 
 Alps, was appointed to a very high office abroad ; and, in 
 the course of the last year, he gave me the highest proof 
 of his confidence, in intrusting to me the care of conduct- 
 ing his works through the press. May I venture, *sir, to 
 add, that in the last letter but one which I had the happi- 
 ness to receive from him, alluding with a kind of sad pre- 
 sentiment, which I could not then fully appreciate, but 
 which now unmans me, to these kindly relations of half a 
 century, he adds, "We now and then see stretching across 
 the heavens a clear, blue, cerulean sky, without cloud, or 
 mist, or haze. And such appears to me our acquaintance 
 from the time when I heard you for a week recite your 
 lessons in the little school-house in Short Street, to the 
 date hereof," (21st of July, 1852.) 
 
 Mr. Chairman, I do not dwell upon the traits of Mr. 
 Webster's public character, however tempting the theme. 
 
EDWARD Everett's address. 49"^ 
 
 Its hrinrht devolopmcnts in a long life of service are before 
 the world; they are wrought into the annals of the 
 country. Whoever in after-times shall write the his- 
 tory of the United States for the last forty years, will 
 write the life of Daniel Webster; and whoever "writes the 
 life of Daniel Webster, as it ought to be written, will write 
 the history of the Union from the time he took a leading 
 part in its concerns. I prefer to allude to those private 
 traits which show the max\, the kindness of his heart, the 
 generosity of his spirit, his freedom from all the bitterness 
 of party, the unafiected gentleness of his nature. In pre- 
 paring the new edition of his works, he thought proper to 
 leave almost every thing to my discretion — as far as mat- 
 ters of taste are concerned. One thing only he enjoined 
 upon me, with an earnestness approaching to a command. 
 " My friend," said he, " I wish to perpetuate no feuds. I 
 have sometimes, though rarely, and that in self-defence, 
 been led to speak of others with severity. I beg you, 
 where you can do it without wholly changing the cha- 
 racter of the speech, and thus doing essential injustice 
 to me, to obliterate every trace of personality of this 
 kind. I should prefer not to leave a word that would 
 give unnecessary pain to any honest man, however opposed 
 to me." 
 
 But I need not tell you, fellow-citizens, that there is no 
 one of our distinguished public men whose speeches con- 
 tain less occasion for such an injunction. Mr. Webster 
 habitually abstained from the use of the poisoned weapons 
 of personal invective or party odium. No one could more 
 studiously abstain from all attempts to make a political 
 opponent personally hateful. If the character of our Con- 
 gressional discussions has of late years somewhat declined 
 in dignity, no portion of the blame lies at his door. With 
 Mr. Calhoun, who, for a considerable portion of the time, 
 was his chief antagonist, and with whom he was brought 
 into most direct collision, he maintained friendly personal 
 relations. He did full justice to his talent and character. 
 You remember the feeling with which he spoke of him at 
 the time of his decease. Mr. Calhoun, in his turn, enter- 
 tained a just estimate of his great opponent's worth. He 
 said, toward the close of his life, that of all the leading 
 
o 
 
 498 EULOGIES OX AYEBSTER. 
 
 men of the day, " there was not one whose political course 
 had been more strongly marked by a strict regard to truth 
 and honor than Mr. Webster's." 
 
 One of the resolutions speaks of a permanent memorial 
 to Mr. Webster. I do not know Avhat is contemplated, 
 but I trust that such a memorial there will be. I trust 
 that marble and brass, in the hands of the most skilful 
 artists our country has produced, will be put in requisition 
 to reproduce to us — and nowhere so appropriately as in 
 this hall — the lineaments of that noble form and beamincr 
 countenance, on which Ave have so often crazed with de 
 light. But, after all, fellow-citizens, the noblest menu 
 ment may be found in his Avorks. There he Avill liA'e and 
 speak to us and our children AA'hen brass and marble haA^e 
 crumbled into dust. As a repository of political truth 
 and practical Avisdom applied to the affairs of government, 
 I know not Avhere Ave shall find their equal. The works 
 of Burke naturally suggest themselves to the mind as the 
 only Avritings in our language that can sustain the compa- 
 rison. Certainly no compositions in the English tongue 
 can take precedence of those of Burke in depth of thought, 
 reach of forecast, or magnificence of style. I think, how- 
 ever, it may be said, Avithout partiality, either national or 
 personal, that Avhile the reader is cloyed at last Avith the 
 gorgeous finish of Burke's diction, there is a severe sim- 
 plicity and a significant plainness in Webster's writings 
 that never tires. It is precisely this Avhich characterizes 
 the statesman in distinction from the political philosopher. 
 In politi>'al disquisition elaborated in the closet, the palm 
 must perhaps be aAvarded to Burke over all others, ancient 
 or modern. But in the actual conflicts of the Senate, man 
 against man, and opinion against opinion, in the noble Avar 
 of debate, Avherc measures are to be sustained and op- 
 posed on Avhich the welfare of the country and the peace 
 of the AYorld depend, where often the line of intellectual 
 battle is changed in a moment — no time to reflect — no 
 leisure to cull words, or gather up illustrations — but all to 
 be decided by a A'ote, altliough the reputation of a life 
 may be at stake — all this is a very different matter, and 
 here Mr. Webster Avas immeasurably the superior. Ac- 
 cordingly, Ave find historically (incredible as it sounds, and 
 
EDWARD Everett's address. 499 
 
 ■\\liat I am ready to say I will not believe, though it is un- 
 questionably true) that these inimitable orations of Burke, 
 which one cannot read without a thrill of admiration to 
 bis fingers' ends, actually emptied the benches of Parlia- 
 ment. 
 
 Ah, gentlemen, it was very different with our great par- 
 liamentary orator. He not only chained to their seats 
 willing, or, if there were such a thing, unwilling Senators, 
 but the largest hall was too small for his audience. On 
 the memorable 7th of March, 1850, when he was expected 
 to speak upon the great questions then pending before the 
 country, not only was the Senate-chamber thronged to its 
 utmost capacity at an early hour, but all the passages to 
 it, the rotunda of the Capitol, and even the avenues of the 
 city, were alive with the crowds who were desirous of 
 gaining admittance. Another Senator, not a political 
 friend, was entitled to the floor. With equal good taste 
 and feeling, he stated that " he was aware that great mul- 
 titudes had not come together to hear him ; and he was 
 pleased to yield the floor to the only man, as he believed, 
 who could draw together such an assembly." This senti- 
 ment, the eff"usion of parliamentary courtesy, will, perhaps, 
 be found no inadequate expression of what will finally be 
 the judgment of posterity. 
 
 Among the many memorable words which fell from the 
 lips of our friend just before they were closed forever, the 
 most remarkable are those which my friend Hilliard has 
 just quoted, — "I still live." They attest the serene 
 composure of his mind ; the Christian heroism with which 
 he was able to turn his consciousness in upon himself, and 
 explore, step by step, the dark passage, (dark to us, but to 
 him, we trust, already lighted from aboVe,) which connects 
 this world with the world to come. But I know not, Mr. 
 Chairman, what words could have been better chosen to 
 express his relation to the world he was leaving — " I still 
 live." This poor dust is just returning to the dust from 
 which it was taken, but I feel that I live in the affections 
 of the people to Avhose services I have consecrated my 
 days. "I still live." The icy hand of death is already 
 laid on my heart, but I shall 'still live in those words of 
 counsel which I have uttered to my fellow-citizens, and 
 
500 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 which I now leave them as the last bequest of a dying 
 friend. 
 
 Mr. Chairman, in the long and honored career of our 
 lamented friend, there are efforts and triumphs which will 
 hereafter fill one of the brightest pages of our history. 
 But I greatly err if the closing scene — the height of the 
 religious sublime — does not, in the judgment of other 
 days, far transcend in interest the brightest exploits of 
 public life. Within that darkened chamber at Marshfield 
 was witnessed a scene of which we shall not readily find 
 the parallel. The serenity with which he stood in the 
 presence of the king of terrors, without trepidation or 
 flutter, for hours and days of expectation ; the thought- 
 fulness for the public business, when the sands were so 
 nearly run out ; the hospitable care for the reception of 
 the friends who came to Marshfield; that affectionate and 
 solemn leave separately taken, name by name, of wife, 
 and children, and kindred, and friends, and family, down 
 to the humblest members of the household ; the designa- 
 tion of the coming day, then near at hand, when " all that 
 was mortal of Daniel Webster would cease to exist !" the 
 dimly-recollected strains of the funeral poetry of Gray ; 
 the last faint flash of the soaring intellect; the feebly 
 murmured words of Holy Writ repeated from the lips of 
 the good physician, who, when all the resources of human 
 art had been exhausted, had a drop of spiritual balm for 
 the parting soul ; the clasped hands ; the dying prayers. 
 Oh, my fellow-citizens, this is a consummation over which 
 tears of pious sympathy will be shed ages after the glories 
 of the forum and the Senate are forgotten. 
 
 " His sufferings ended with the day ; 
 Yet lived lie at its close, 
 And breathed the long, long night away 
 In statue-like repose. 
 
 " But ere the sun, in all his state. 
 Illumed the eastern skies, 
 He pass'd through glory's morning gate, 
 And walk'd in Pajadise." / 
 
RUFUS CHOATE's ADDRESS. 501 
 
 XV. 
 
 RUFUS CnOATE'S ADDRESS, DELIVERED BEFORE THE SUF- 
 FOLK BAR IN BOSTON, ON THE DEATH OF MR. WEBSTER. 
 
 May it please your Honor; I have been requested 
 by the members of the bar of this court to present certain 
 resolutions in which they have embodied, as they were able, 
 tiicir sorrow for the death of their beloved and illustrious 
 member and countryman, Mr. Webster; their estimation 
 of his character, life, and genius ; their sense of the bereave- 
 ment — to the country as to his friends — incapable of repair; 
 the pride, the fontlness — the filial and patriotic pride and 
 fondness — with wiiich they cherish, and would consign to 
 history to cherish, the memory of a great and good man. 
 
 Antl Avhen I have presented these resolutions, my duty 
 is done, lie must have known Mr. Webster less and loved 
 him less than your honor, or than I have known and loved 
 him, who can quite yet — quite yet, before we can compre- 
 hend that we have lost him forever — before the first pale- 
 ness with which the news of his death overspread our 
 cheeks, has passed away ; before we have been down to lay 
 him in the Pilgrim soil he loved so well, till the heavens be 
 no more — he umst have known and loved him less than we 
 have done, who can come here quite yet, to recount the 
 series of his service — to display with psychological exact- 
 ness the traits of his nature and mind — to ponder and 
 speculate on the secrets, on the marvellous secrets and 
 sources of that vast power, which we shall see no more in 
 action, nor aught in any degree resembling it, among men. 
 These first moments should be given to grief. It may em- 
 ploy — it may promote a calmer mood to construct a more 
 elaborate and less unworthy memorial. 
 
 For the purposes of this moment and place, indeed, no 
 more is needed. What is there for this court or for this 
 bar from me to learn, here and now of him? The year 
 and the day of his birth; that birthplace on the frontier 
 yet bleak and w^aste ; the well of which his childhood drank 
 — dug by that father of whom he said, "that through the 
 
502 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 fire and blood of seven years' revolutionary war, he shrank 
 from no danger, no toil, no sacrifice, to serve his country, 
 and to raise his children to a condition better than his 
 own" — the elm-tree that father planted, fallen now, as 
 father and son have fallen — that training of the giant in- 
 fancy on Catechism and Bible, and Watts's version of the 
 Psalms, and the traditions of Plymouth and Fort William 
 and Mary, and the Revolution, and the age of Washing- 
 ton and Franklin ; on the banks of the Merrimack, flowing 
 sometimes in flood and anger, from his secret springs in the 
 crystal hills ; the two district schoolmasters, Chase and 
 Tappan ; the village-library ; the dawning of the love and 
 ambition of letters ; the few months at Exeter and Bos- 
 cawen ; the life of college ; the probationary season of 
 schoolteaching ; the clerkship in the Fryburg Registry of 
 Deeds ; his admission to the Bar, presided over by judges 
 like Smith, illustrated by practitioners such as Mason, 
 where by the studies, in the contentions of nine years he 
 laid the foundation of the professional mind ; his irresistible 
 attraction to public life ; the oration on commerce ; the 
 Rockingham resolutions ; his first term of four years' ser- 
 vice in Congress, when by one bound he sprang to his place 
 by the side of the foremost of the rising American states- 
 men ; his removal to this State ; and then the double and 
 parallel current in which his life, studies, thoughts, and 
 cares, have since flowed, bearing him to the leadership of 
 the Bar, by universal acclaim ; bearing him to the leader- 
 ship of public life — last of that surpassing triumvirate, 
 shall we say the greatest, the most widely known and ad- 
 mired — of all ? These things, to their minutest details, 
 are known and rehearsed familiarly. Happier than the 
 younger Pliny, happier than Cicero, he has found his his- 
 torian unsolicited, in his lifetime — and his countrymen 
 have him all by heart. 
 
 There is, then, nothing to tell you ; nothing to bring to 
 mind. And then, if I may borrow the language of one 
 of his historians and friends — one of those through whose 
 beautiful pathos the common sorrow uttered itself yester- 
 day, in Faneuil Hall — "I dare not come here, and dismiss 
 in a few summary paragraphs the character of one who has 
 filled such a space in the history — who holds such a place 
 
RUFUS CHOATE'S ADDRESS. 503 
 
 in the heart — of his country. It would be a disrespectful 
 familiarity to a man of his lofty spirit, his great soul, his 
 rich endowments, his long and honorable life, to endeavor 
 thus to weigh and estimate them." A half-hour of words, 
 a handful of earth, for fifty years of great deeds, on high 
 places ! 
 
 But altliough the time does not require any thing elabo- 
 rated and adequate — forbids it rather — some broken sen- 
 tences of veneration and love may be indulged to the 
 sorrow which oppresses us. 
 
 There presents itself, on the first, to any observation of 
 Mr. Webster's life and character, a twofold eminence — 
 eminence of the very highest rank in a twofold field of in- 
 tellectual juiblic display — the profession of the law, and 
 the profession of statesmanship — of which it would not be 
 easy to recall any parallel in the biography of illustrious 
 men. 
 
 Without seeking for parallels, and without asserting that 
 they do not exist, consider that he was by universal desig- 
 nation the leader of the general American Bar ; and that he 
 was also, by an equally universal designation, foremost of 
 her statesmen living at his death — inferior to not one who 
 has lived and acted since the opening of his own public life. 
 Look at these aspects of his greatness separately, — and 
 from opposite sides of the surpassing elevation, consider 
 that his single career at the Bar may seem to have been 
 enough to employ the largest faculties without repose — for 
 a lifetime — and that if then and thus the " infinitus 
 forensium rerum labor' would have conducted him to a 
 mere professional reward — a Bench of Chancery or Law — 
 the crown of the first of advocates — jurisperitoruni elo- 
 cpientissimus — to the pure and mere fame of a great magis- 
 trate — that that would be as much as is allotted to the 
 ablest in the distribution of fame. Even that half — if I 
 may say so — of his illustrious reputation — how long the 
 labor to win it — how worthy of all that labor ! He was 
 bred first in the severest school of the common law — in 
 which its doctrines were expounded by Smith, and its ad- 
 ministration shaped and directed by Mason, — and its 
 foundation principles, its historical sources and illustra- 
 tions, its connection with the parallel series of statutory 
 
504 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 enactments, its modes of reading, and the evidence of its 
 truths, — he grasped easily and completely : and I have 
 myself heard him say, that for many years, Avhile still at 
 the har, he tried more causes, and argued more questions 
 of fact to the jury than perhaps any other member of the 
 profession anywhere. I have heard from others, how even 
 then he exemplified the same direct, clear, and forcible 
 exhibition of proofs, and the reasonings appropriate to the 
 proofs — as well as the same marvellous power of discerning 
 instantly what we call the decisive points of the cause in 
 law and fact — by which he was later more widely cele- 
 brated. This was the first epoch in his professional 
 training. 
 
 With the commencement of his public life, or with his 
 later removal to this State, began the second epoch of his 
 professional training — conducting him through the grada- 
 tion of the national tribunals to the study and practice of 
 the more flexible, elegant, and scientific jurisprudence of 
 commerce and of chancery, and to the grander and less 
 fettered investigation of international jurisprudence and 
 constitutional hiAv — and giving him to breathe the air of a 
 more famous forum, in a more public presence, with more 
 variety of competition ; although he never met abler men, 
 as I have heard him say, than some of those who initiated 
 him in the rugged discipline of the courts of New Hamp- 
 shire ; and thus, at length, by these studies, these labors, 
 this contention, continued without repose, he came, now 
 many years ago, to stand, oynnium consentu, at the summit 
 of the American Bar. 
 
 It is common, and it is easy, in the case of all in such 
 position, to point out other lawyers, here and there, as 
 possessing some special qualification or attainment more 
 remarkably, perhaps, because more exclusively ; to say of 
 one that he has more cases in his recollection at any given 
 moment ; or that he was earlier grounded in equity ; or 
 has gathered more black-letter, or civil law, or knowledge 
 of Spanish or Western titles ; and these comparisons were 
 sometimes made with him. But when you sought a counsel 
 of the first-rate for the great cause, wlio would most surely 
 discern and most powerfully expound the exact law re- 
 quired for the controversy, in season for use ; who could 
 
RUFUS CHOATE's ADDRESS. 505 
 
 most skilfully encounter the opposing law ; under whose 
 power of analysis, persuasion, and display, the asserted. 
 right would assurue the most forcible aspect before the in- 
 telligence of the judge ; who, if the inquiry became loaded 
 with, or resolved into facts, could most completely develop 
 and most irresistibly expose them ; one " the law's whole 
 thunder born to wield" — when you sought such a counsel. 
 and could have the choice, I think the universal profession 
 Would have turned to him. And this would be so in nearly 
 every description of causes. In any department, some able 
 men wield civil inquiries with a peculiar ability — some 
 criminal. How lucidly and how deeply he unfolded a 
 question of property, you all know. But then with what 
 address, feeling, and pathos, he defended ; with what dignity 
 and crushing power, aaeiisatoria spiritu, he prosecuted the 
 accused of crime, few have seen ; but none who have seen 
 can ever forget it. 
 
 Some scenes there are — some Alpine eminences rising 
 above the high table-land of such u professional life, to 
 which, in the briefest tribute, we should love to follow him. 
 We recall that day for an illustration, when he first an- 
 nounced with decisive display, what manner of man he was 
 to the Supreme Court of the nation. It was in 1818, and 
 it was in the argument of the case of the Dartmouth College. 
 William Pinckney was recruiting his great faculties, and 
 replenishing that reservoir of professional and elegant 
 acquisition in Europe. Samuel Dexter, "the honorable 
 man, and the councillor, and the elegant orator," was in 
 his grave. The boundless old-school learning of Luther 
 Martin ; the silver voice and infinite analytical ingenuity 
 and resources of Jones, the fervid genius of Emmett, 
 pouring itself along immenso ore ; the ripe and beautiful 
 culture of Wirt and Hopkinson — the steel point unseen, 
 not unfelt, beneath the foliage ; these and such as these 
 were left of that noble Bar. That day, Mr. Webster 
 opened the case of Dartmouth College to a tribunal unsur- 
 passed on earth in all that gives illustration to a Bench of 
 Law, not one of whom any longer survives. 
 
 One would love to linger on the scene, when, after a 
 masterly argument of the law, — carrying, as we may now 
 know, conviction to the a;enerai mind of the court, and 
 
 4.; 
 
506 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 vindicating and settling for his lifetime his place in that 
 forum — he paused to enter, with an altered feeling, tone, 
 and manner, with these words, on his peroration : " I have 
 brought my alma mater to this presence, that if she must 
 fall, she may fall in her robes, and with dignity ;" and then 
 broke forth in that strain of sublime and pathetic elo- 
 quence, of which we know not much more than that, in its 
 progress, Marshall — the intellectual, the self-controlled, the 
 unemotioned — announced visibly the presence of the unac- 
 customed enchantment. 
 
 Other forensic triumphs crowd upon us — in other com- 
 petition — with other issues. But I must commit them to 
 the historian of constitutional jurisprudence. 
 
 And now, if this transcendent professional reputation 
 were all of Mr. Webster, it might be practicable, though 
 not easy, to find its parallel elsewhere — in our own, or in 
 European or classical biography. 
 
 But when you consider that, side by side with this, there 
 was growing up that other reputation — that of the first 
 American statesmnn ; that for thirty-three years — those 
 embracing his most herculean works at the Bar — he was 
 engaged as a member of either House, or in the highest 
 Executive Departments, in the conduct of the largest na- 
 tional affairs ; in the treatment of the largest national 
 questions ; in debate with the highest abilities of American 
 public life ; conducting diplomatic intercourse in delicate 
 relations with all classes of foreign powers ; investigat- 
 ing whole classes of truths, totally unlike the truths of 
 law, and resting on principles totally distinct, — and that 
 here, too, he was wise, safe, controlling, trusted, the fore- 
 most man ; that Europe had come to see in his life a 
 guarantee for justice, for peace, for the best hope of civili- 
 zation, and America to feel sure of her glory, her safety, 
 as a great arm enfolded her ; — you see how rare, how soli- 
 tary almost was the actual greatness 1 Who anywhere has 
 seen, as he had, the double fame, wore the double wreath 
 of Murray and Chatham ; or of Dunning and Fox ; or of 
 Erskine and Pitt ; or of AVilliam Pinckney and Rufus King, 
 in one transcendent superiority ? 
 
 I cannot attempt to grasp and sum up the aggregate of 
 the yervice of his public life at such a moment as this — 
 
RUFUS CHOATE'S ADDRESS. 507 
 
 and it is needless. That it comprised a term of more than 
 thirtj-throe years. It produced a body of performances 
 of which I may say generally, it was all which the first 
 abilities of the country and time, employed with unex- 
 ampled toil, stimulated by the noblest patriotism ; in the 
 highest places of the state— in the fear of God— in the 
 presence of nations — could possibly compass. 
 
 He came into Congress after the war of 1812 had begun, 
 and though probably deeming it unnecessary, according to 
 the highest standards of public necessity, in his private 
 character — and objecting in his public to some of the de- 
 tails of the policy by which it was prosecuted, and stand- 
 ing by party ties in general opposition to the administra- 
 tion — he never breathed a sentiment calculated to depress 
 the tone of the public mind ; to aid or comfort the enemy; 
 to check or chill the stirrings of that new, passionate, un- 
 quenchable spirit of nationality, which then was revealed, 
 or kindled to burn till we go down to the tomb of states. 
 
 With the peace of 1815, his more cherished public labors 
 began; and thenceforward has he devoted himself — the 
 ardor of his civil youth — the energies of his maturest man- 
 hood — the autumnal wisdom of the ripened years — to the 
 offices of legislation and diplomacy — of preserving the 
 peace — keeping the honor — establishing the boundaries, 
 and vindicating the neutral rights of his country — restor- 
 ing a sound currency, and laying its foundation sure and 
 deep — in upholding public credit — in promoting foreign 
 commerce and domestic industry — in developing our un- 
 counted material resources — giving the lake and the river 
 to trade — and vindicating and interpreting the Constitution 
 and the law. On all these subjects — on all measures prac- 
 tically in any degree affecting them — he has inscribed his 
 opinions and left the traces of his hand. Everywhere the 
 philosophical and patriotic statesman and thinker will find 
 that he has been before him, lighting the way — sounding 
 the abyss. His weighty language — his sagacious warnings 
 — his great maxims of empire — will be raised to view, and 
 live to be deciphered when the final catastrophe shall lift 
 the granite foundation in fragments from its bed. 
 
 In this connection, I cannot but remark to how extra- 
 ordinary an extent had Mr. Webster, by his acts, words, 
 
508 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 Tor. 
 
 thoughts, or the events of his life, associated himself r« 
 ever in the memory of all of us with every historical inci- 
 dent, or at least with every historical epoch ; with every 
 policy, with every glory, with every great name and fun- 
 damental institution, and grand or beautiful image, Avhich 
 are peculiarly and properly American. Look backwards 
 to the planting of Plymouth and Jamestown, to the various 
 scenes of colonial life in peace and war ; to the opening, 
 and march, and close of the Revolutionary drama — to the 
 age of the Constitution — to Washington, and Franklin, 
 and Adams, and Jefferson — to the whole train of causes 
 from the Reformation downward, which prepared us to be 
 Republicans — to that other train of causes which led us to 
 be Unionists ; look round on field, workshop, and deck, 
 and hear the music of labor rewarded, fed and protected 
 — look on the bright sisterhood of the States, each sing- 
 ing as a seraph in her motion, yet blending in a common 
 beam and swelling a common harmony— and there is 
 nothing which does not bring him by some tie to the 
 memory of America. 
 
 We seem to see his form and hear his deep, grave speech 
 everywhere. By some felicity of his personal life ; by 
 some wise, deep or beautiful word spoken or written ; by 
 some service of his own, or some commemoration of the 
 services of others, it has come to pass that " our granite 
 hills, our inland seas, and prairies, and fresh, unbounded, 
 magnificent wilderness ;" our encircling ocean ; the rock 
 of the Pilgrims ; our new-born sister of the Pacific ; our 
 popular assemblies ; our free schools, all our cherished 
 doctrines of education, and of the influence of religion, 
 and material policy and law, and the Constitution, give us 
 back his name. What American landscape will you look 
 on — what subject of American interest will you study — ■ 
 what source of hope or of anxiety, as an American, will 
 you acknowledge, that it does not recall him ? 
 
 I shall not venture, in this rapid and general recollec- 
 tion of Mr. Webster, to attempt to analyze that intellec- 
 tual power which all admit to have been so extraordinary, 
 or to compare or contrast it with the mental greatness of 
 others — in variety or degree — of the living or the dead ; 
 or even to attempt to appreciate exactly, and in reference 
 
RUFUS CHOATE's ADDRESS. 509 
 
 to canons of art, his single attribute of--eloquence. Con- 
 sider, however, the remarkahlc phenomenon of excellence 
 in three unkindred, one might have thought incompatible, 
 forms of public speech — that of the forum, with its double 
 audience of bench and jury, — of the halls of legislation — 
 and of the most thronged and tumultuous assemblies of 
 the people. 
 
 Consider, further, that this multiform eloquence, exactly 
 as his words fell, became at once so much accession to per- 
 manent literature, in the strictest sense — solid, attractive, 
 and rich — and ask how often in the history of public life 
 such a thing has been exemplified. Recall what pervaded 
 all these forms of display, and every effort in every form, 
 that union of marked intellect in its largest measure, which 
 penetrates to the exact truth of the matter in hand by 
 intuition, or by inference, and discerns every thing which 
 may make it intelligible, probable, and creditable to an- 
 other, with an emotional and moral nature, profound, pas- 
 sionate, and ready to kindle, and with imagination enough 
 to supply a hundredfold more of illustration and aggran- 
 dizement than his taste suffered him to accept — that union 
 of greatness of soul with depth of heart, which made his 
 speaking almost more an exhibition of character than of 
 mere genius — the style not merely pure, clear Saxon, but 
 so constructed, so numerous as far as becomes prose, so 
 forcible,, so abounding in unlabored felicities, the words so 
 choice, the epithet so pictured, the matter absolute truth, 
 or the most exact and spacious resemblance the human wit 
 can devise, the treatment of the subject, if you have re- 
 gard to the kind of truth he had to handle, political, 
 ethical, legal, as deep, as complete, as Paley's, or Locke's, 
 or Butler's, or Alexander Hamilton's, of their subjects, 
 yet that depth and that completeness of sense, made trans- 
 parent as through crystal waters — all embodied in harmo- 
 nious or well-composed periods ; raised on winged lan- 
 guage, vivified, fused and poured along in a tide of 
 emotion, fervid and incapable to be withstood — recall the 
 form, the eye, the brow, the tone of voice, the presence 
 of the intellectual king of men — recall him thus, and in 
 the language of Mr. Justice Story, commemorating Samuel 
 Dexter, we may well rejoice that " we have lived in the 
 
 43* 
 
510 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 same age, that we have listened to liis eloquence, and been 
 instructed by his wisdom." 
 
 I cannot leave the subject of his eloquence without 
 returnino; to a thousrht I have advanced alreadv. All that 
 he has left — or the larger portion of all — is the record of 
 spoken words. His works, as already collected, extend to 
 many volumes — a library of reason and eloquence, as 
 Gibbon has said of Cicero's — but they are volumes of 
 speeches only, or mainly ; and yet who does not rank him 
 as a great American author — an author as truly expound- 
 ing, and as characteristically exemplifying, in a pure, 
 genuine and harmonious English style, the mind, thought, 
 point of view of objects, and essential nationality of his 
 country, as any of our authors, professionally so deno- 
 minated ? Against the maxim of Mr. Fox, his speeches 
 read well, and yet were good speeches, great speeches, in 
 the delivery. For so grave were they, so thoughtful and 
 true — so much the eloquence of reason at last — so strik- 
 ingly, always, they contrived to link the immediate topic 
 with other and broader principles ; ascending easily to 
 widest generalizations — so happy was the reconciliation 
 of the qualities Avhich engage the attention of hearers, yet 
 reward the perusal of students — so critically did they 
 keep the right side of the line which parts eloquence from 
 rhetoric, and so far do they rise above the penury of mere 
 debate, that the general reason of the country has en- 
 shrined them at once and forever among our classics. 
 
 It is a common belief that Mr. Webster was a various 
 reader ; and I think it is true, even to a greater degree 
 than has been believed. In his profession of politics, 
 nothing, I think, worthy of attention had escaped him — 
 nothing of the ancient or modern prudence, nothing which 
 Greek, or Roman, or European, or Universal History, or 
 public Biography exemplified. I shall not soon forget 
 with what admiration he spoke at an interview to which 
 he admitted me while in the Law School at Cambridge, 
 of the politics and ethics of Aristotle, and of the mighty 
 mind Avhich, as he said, seemed to bave "thought through" 
 all the great problems which form the discipline of social 
 man. American history and American political literature 
 he had by heart — the long series of influences which trained 
 
RUFUS CHOATE's ADDRESS. 511 
 
 US for representative and free government ; that other 
 series of influences which mouhlccl us into a united go- 
 vernment ; the colonial era ; the age of controversy before 
 the Revolution ; every scene and every person in that great 
 tragic action ; every question -which has successively en- 
 gaged our politics, and every name which has figured in 
 them — the whole stream of our time was open, clear and 
 present, even, to his eye. 
 
 Beyond his profession of politics, so to call it, he had 
 been a diligent and choice reader, as his extraordinary 
 style in part reveals ; and I think the love of reading 
 would have gone with him, to a later and riper age, if to 
 such an age it had been the will of God to reserve him. 
 This is no place or time to appreciate this branch of his 
 acquisitions ; but there is an interest inexpressible in 
 knowing who were any of the chosen from among the 
 great dead, in the library of such a man. Others may 
 correct me, but I should say of that interior and narrower 
 circle were Cicero, Virgil, Shakspeare, Bacon, Milton, 
 Burke, Johnson, — to whom I hope it is not pedantic nor 
 fanciful to say, I often thought his nature presented some 
 resemblance ; the same abundance of the general proposi- 
 tions required for explaining a difficulty and returning a 
 sophism, copiously and promptly occurring to him — the 
 same kindness of heart and wealth of sensibility ; under a 
 manner, of course, more courteous and gracious, yet more 
 sovereign ; the same sufficient, yet not predominant ima- 
 gination, stooping ever to truth, and giving affluence, viva- 
 city and attraction to a powerful, correct and weighty style 
 of prose. 
 
 I cannot leave his life and character without selecting 
 and dwelling a moment on one or two of his traits, or vir- 
 tues, or facilities, a little longer. There is a collective im- 
 pression made by the whole of an eminent person's life, 
 beyond and other than, and apart from, that which the 
 mere general biographer would aflbrd the means of explain- 
 ing. There is an influence of a great man, derived from 
 things, indescribable almost, or incapable of enumeration, 
 or singly insufficient to account for it, but through which his 
 spirit transpires, and his individuality goes forth on the 
 contemporary generation. And thus, I should say, one 
 
512 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 great tendency of his life and cliaracter was, to elevate tlie 
 whole tone of the public mind. He did this, indeed, not 
 merely by example ; he did it by dealing, as he thought, 
 truly, and in manly fashion, with that public mind. He 
 evinced his love for the people, not so much by honeyed 
 phrases, as by good counsels and useful service — vera pro 
 
 gratis. 
 
 He showed' how he appreciated them by submitting 
 sound arguments to their understandings, and right motives 
 to their free will. He came before them less with flattery 
 than with instruction ; less with a vocabulary larded with 
 the words humanity and philanthropy, and progress and 
 brotlierhood, than with a scheme of politics, an educational, 
 social and governmental system, which would have made 
 them prosperous, happy and great. 
 
 What the Greek historians said of Pericles, we all feel 
 might be said of him : "He did not so much follow as lead 
 the people, because he framed not his words to please them, 
 like one who is gaining power by unworthy means, but was 
 able, and dared on the strengtli of high character, even to 
 brave their anger by contradicting their will." 
 
 I should indicate it as another influence of his life, acts 
 and opinions, that it was in an extraordinary degree uni- 
 formly and liberally conservative. He saw, with the vision 
 as of a prophet, that if our system of united government 
 can be maintained till a nationality shall be generated of 
 due intensity and due comprehension, a glory indeed niil- 
 lennial, a progress without end — a triumph of humanity 
 hitherto unseen — were ours, and therefore he addressed 
 himself to maintain that united government. 
 
 Standing on the rock of Plymouth, he bid distant gene- 
 rations hail, and saw them rising, — demanding life — " im- 
 patient from the skies," from what then were "fresh, un- 
 bounded, magnificent wildernesses" — from the shore of the 
 great tranquil sea — not yet become ours. But observe to 
 what he would welcome them. It is " to good government." 
 It is to " treasures of science and delights of learning." 
 It is to the " sweets of domestic life — the immeasurable 
 good of a rational existence — the immortal hopes of Chris- 
 tianity — the light of everlasting truth." 
 
 It will be happy, if the wisdom and temper of his ad- 
 
RUFUS CHOATE'S ADDRESS. 513 
 
 ministration of our foreign affairs shall preside in the time 
 which, is at hand. Sobered, instructed by the examples and 
 warnings of all the past, he yet gathered, from the study 
 and comparison of all the eras, that there is a silent pro- 
 gress of the race without return, to which the counsellings 
 of history are to be accommodated by a wise philosophy. 
 More than or as milch as that of any of our public cha- 
 racters, his statesmanship was one which recognised a 
 Europe, an Old World, but yet grasped the capital idea 
 of the American position, and deduced from it the whole 
 fashion and color of its policy ; which discerned that we 
 are to play a high part in human affairs, but discerned 
 also what part it is, peculiar, distant, distinct and grand, 
 as our hemisphere ; an influence, not a contact — the stage 
 — the drama — the catastrophe, all but the audience, all our 
 own ; and if ever he felt himself at a loss, he consulted, 
 reverently, the genius of Washington. 
 
 In bringing these memories to a conclusion — for I omit 
 many things, because I dare not trust myself to speak of 
 them — I shall not be misunderstood or give offence, if I 
 hope that one other trait in his public character, one doc- 
 trine, rather, of his political creed, may be remembered and 
 appreciated. It is one of the two fundamental precepts in 
 which Plato, as expounded by the great master of Latin 
 eloquence, and reason and morals, comprehends the duty 
 of those who share in the conduct of the stiite, " Ut quce- 
 cunque agunt, TOTUM corpus reipuhlicce. curent nedum 
 partem aliquam tue7itur, reliquas deserant," that they com- 
 prise in their care the whole body of the republic, nor 
 keep one part and desert another. He gives the reason, 
 one reason, of the precept, ^^Qui autem parti civium consu- 
 lant, p>artem negligimt rem ijerniciosissimam in civitatem 
 inducunt seditionem atque discordiam." The patriotism 
 which embraces less than the whole, induces sedition and 
 discord, the last evil of the State. 
 
 How profoundly he had comprehended this truth — with 
 what persistency, with what passion, from the first hour 
 he became a public man to the last beat of the great heart, 
 he cherished it — how little he accounted the good, the 
 praise, the blame, of this locality or that, in comparison 
 of the larger good and the general and thoughtful approval 
 
514 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 of his own, and our, whole America, — she this day feels 
 and announces. Wheresoever a drop of her hlood flows in 
 the veins of man, this trait is felt and appreciated. The 
 hunter beyond Superior — the fisherman on the deck of the 
 nio-h night-foundered skiff — the sailor on the uttermost sea 
 — will feel, as he hears these tidings, that the protection 
 of a sleepless, all-embracing, parental care is withdrawn 
 from him for a space ; and that his pathway henceforward 
 is more solitary and less safe than before. 
 
 But I cannot pursue these thoughts. Among the eulogists 
 who have just uttered the eloquent sorrow of England at 
 the death of the great Duke — one has employed an image 
 and an idea, which I venture to modify and appropriate : 
 
 " The Northman's image of death is finer than that of 
 other climes ; no skeleton, but a gigantic figure, that en- 
 velops men within the massive folds of its dark garment. 
 Webster seems so enshrouded from us as the last of the 
 mighty three, themselves following a mighty series ; the 
 greatest closing the procession. The robe draws round 
 him, and the era is past." 
 
 Yet how much there is which that all-ample fold shall 
 not hide ! — the recorded wisdom ; the great example ; the 
 assured immortality. 
 
 They speak of moments ! 
 
 "Nothing need cover his high fame but heaven, 
 No pyramids set ofl' his memories, 
 But the eternal substance of his greatness, 
 
 To WHICH I LEAVE HIM." 
 
 XVI. 
 
 EULOGY PRONOUNCED ON MR. WEBSTER IN FANEUIL HALL, 
 BOSTON, BY GEORGE S. HILLARD, ESQ. 
 
 It is now twenty-six years since the heart of the nation 
 was so deeply moved by the death of two great founders 
 of the Republic, on the fiftieth anniversary of the day 
 when its independence was declared. Then, for the first 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 515 
 
 time, these consecrated walls wore the weeds of mourning. 
 Then the multitude that filled this hall were addressed by 
 a man whose thoughts rose without effort to the height of 
 his great theme. He seemed inspired by the occasion, and 
 he looked and spoke like one on whom the mantle of some 
 ascended prophet had at that moment fallen. He lifted 
 up and bore aloft his audience on the wings x»f his mighty 
 elofjuence. His words fell upon his hearers with irresistible, 
 subduing power, and their hearts poured themselves forth 
 in one deep and strong tide of patriotic and reverential 
 feeling. 
 
 And now he, that was then so full of life and power, has 
 gone to join the patriots whom he commemorated. Web- 
 ster is no more than Adams and Jefferson. The people, 
 that then came to listen to him, are now here to mourn for 
 him. His voice of wisdom and eloquence is silent. The 
 arm on which a nation leaned is stark and cold. The heroic 
 form is given back to the dust. We that delighted to honor 
 him in life are now here to honor him in death. One circle 
 of duties is ended and another is begun. AVe can no longer 
 give him our confidence, our support, our suffrages ; but 
 memory and gratitude are still left to us. As he has not 
 lived for himself alone, so he has not died for himself alone. 
 The services of his life are crowned and sealed with the 
 benediction of his death. So long as a man remains upon 
 earth, his life is a fragment. It is exposed to chance and 
 change, to the shocks of fate and the assaults of trial. 
 But the end crowns the work. A career that is closed be- 
 comes a firm possession and a completed power. The arch 
 is imperfect till the hand of death has fixed the keystone. 
 
 The custom of honoring great public benefactors by these 
 solemn observances is natural, just and wise. But the 
 tributes and testimonials which we offer to departed worth 
 are for the living, and not for the dead. Eulogies, monu- 
 ments and statues can add nothing to the peace and joy 
 of that serene sphere into which the great and good, who 
 have finished their earthly career, have passed. But these 
 expressions and memorials do good to those from whom 
 they flow. They lift us above the region of low cares and 
 selfish struggles. They link the present to the past, and 
 the world of sense to the world of thought. They break 
 
516 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 the common course of life with feelings brought from a 
 higher region. Who can measure the effect of a scene like 
 this — these mournino; walls — these saddened faces — these 
 solemn strains of music ? The seed of a deep emotion 
 here planted may ripen into the fruit of noble action. 
 
 A great man is a gift, in some measure, a revelation of 
 God. A great man, living for high ends, is the divinest 
 thing that can be seen on earth. The value and interest 
 of history are derived chiefly from the lives and services 
 of the eminent men whom it commemorates. Indeed, with- 
 out these, there would be no such thing as history, and the 
 progress of a nation would be as little worth recording, as 
 the march of a trading caravan across a desert. The death 
 of Mr. Webster is too recent, and he was taken away too 
 suddenly from a sphere of wide and great influence, for 
 the calm verdict of history to be passed upon him, and an 
 accurate gauge to be taken of his works and claims. But 
 all men, whatever may have been the countenance they 
 turned toward him in life, now feel that he Avas a man of 
 the highest order of greatness, and that whatever of power, 
 faculty and knowledge there was in him was given freely, 
 heartily, and during a long course of years, to the service 
 of his country. He who, in the judgment of all, was a 
 great man and a great patriot, not only deserves these 
 honors at our hands, but it would be disgraceful in us to 
 withhold them. We among whom he lived, who felt the 
 power of his magnificent presence, — his brow, his eyes, his 
 voice, his bearing, — can never put him anywhere but in 
 the front rank of the great men of all time. In running 
 along the line of statesmen and orators, we light upon the 
 name of no one to whom we are willing to admit his infe- 
 riority. 
 
 The theory that a great man is merely the product of 
 his age, is rejected by the common sense and common ob- 
 servation of mankind. The power that guides large masses 
 of men, and shapes the channels in which the energies of a 
 great people flow, is something more than a mere aggregate 
 of derivative forces. It is a compound product, in which 
 the genius of the man is one element, and the sphere opened 
 to hun by the character of his age and the institutions of 
 his country is another. In the case of Mr. Webster, we 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 517 
 
 trC ^f i^°-^P^^'^t^°^.of these two elements. Not only 
 <1m1 he find opportunities for his great powers hnfTi 
 events of his life, and the disciplfne h Co ^l^^, ^ 
 
 s:^t::;'';:l f ' '^ ^^^^v^'-^ "p *^ thnt^on::!;:^i;:^ 
 
 vhil 1 «^'^f,"»'e, and perfect intellectual symmetry 
 
 I'fnl ';:::'' ^^^ -^ ^^^--^^^' - -InenC anf fo 
 
 He was fortunate in the accident, or rather the nrovi 
 dcnce, of h,s b.rth. His father was a man of uncommon 
 strength of nnnd and worth of character, who Imd served 
 h.s country fauhfully in trying times, and earned in a hLh 
 degree the respect and confidence of his nei^hbo s-a S 
 large and loving heart whose efforts and sa^HficesX 
 viLtit Th.' ''^" '^y tl'em with most affectionate 
 
 on orthll ° \f '^^"^^"Pon the minds and characters 
 of hei chddren. He was born to the discipline of poverty • 
 but a poverty such as braces and stimulates, not such as 
 crushes and paralyzes. The region in which his boyhood 
 jvas passed was new and wild, books were not easy to be 
 had, schools were only an occasional privilege, and inter- 
 course with the more settled parts of the couSt;y was diffi- 
 cult and rare. But this scarcity of mental food and mental 
 excitement had its advantages, and his training was good 
 however imperfect his teaciiing might have been. His 
 abors upon the farm helped to form that vigorous constitu- 
 tion which enable.l him to sustain the immense pressure of 
 cares and duties laid upon him in after-years. Such books 
 as lie could procure were read with the whole heart and the 
 whole mind. The conversation of a household, presided 
 over by a strong-minded father, and a sensible, lovincr 
 mother, helped to train the faculties of the younrror mem"^ 
 bers of the family. Nor were their winter evenin.rs want- 
 ing m topics which had a fresher interest than any which 
 books coukl furnish. There were stirring tales of the 
 Kevolutionary struggle and the Old French War, in both of 
 ^v^liich his father had taken a part, with moving traditions 
 ot the hardships and perils of border-life, and harroAving 
 narratives of Indian captivity, all of which sunk deep into 
 the heart of the impressible boy. The ample page of na- 
 ture was ever before his eyes, not beautiful or picturesque. 
 
518 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 but stern, wild and solitary, covered with a primeval forest: 
 in winter, swept over by tremendous storms, but in summer 
 putting on a short-lived grace, and in autumn glowing with 
 an imperial pomp of coloring. In the deep, lonely woods, 
 by the rushing streams, under the frosty stars of winter, 
 the musing boy gathered food for his growing mind. There 
 to him the mighty mother unveiled her awful face, and 
 there we may be sure that the dauntless child stretched 
 forth his hands and smiled. "We feel a pensive pleasure in 
 calling up the image of this slender, dark-browed, bright- 
 eyed youth, going forth in the morning of life to sow the 
 seed of future years. A loving brother, and a loving and 
 dutiful son, he is cheerful under privation, and patient 
 under restraint. Whatever work he finds to do, whether 
 with the brain or the hand, he does it with all his might. 
 He opens his mind to every ray of knowledge that breaks 
 in upon him. Every step is a progress, and every blow 
 removes an obstacle. Onward, ever onward, he moves; 
 borne "against the wind, against the tide," by an impulse 
 self-derived and self-sustained. He makes friends, awakens 
 interest, inspires hopes. Thus, with these good angels 
 about him, he passes from boyhood to youth, and from 
 youth to early manhood. The school and the college have 
 given him what they had to give ; an excellent professional 
 training has been secured ; and now, with a vigorous frame 
 and a spirit patient of labor, with manly self-reliance, and 
 a heart glowing with generous ambition and warm affec- 
 tions, the man, Daniel Webster, steps forth into the arena 
 of life. 
 
 From this point his progress follows the natural law of 
 growth, and every advance is justified and explained by 
 what had gone before. For every thing that he gains he 
 has a perfect title to show. He is borne on by no fortu- 
 nate accident. The increase of his influence keeps no 
 more than p-ice with the growth of his mind and the de- 
 velopment of his character. He is diligent in his calling, 
 and faithful to the interests intrusted to his charge. His 
 professional bearing is manly and elevated. He has the 
 confidence of the court, and the ear of the jury, and has 
 fairly earned them both. His business increases, his repu- 
 tation is extended, and he becomes a marked man. He is 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARD's EULOGY. 519 
 
 not only eqn;i,] to every occasion, but he always leaves the im- 
 pression of having power in reserve, and of being capable of 
 still greater efibrts. What he does is judicious, and what he 
 says is wise. He is not obliged to retrace his steps or quaiuj 
 his statements. He blends the dignity and self-command of 
 mature life Avith the ardor and energy of youth. To such 
 a man, in our country, public life becomes a sort of neces- 
 sity. A brief service in Congress wins for him the respect 
 and admiration of the leading men of the country, who 
 see with astonishment in a young New Hampshire lawyer 
 the large views of a ripe statesman, and a generous and 
 comprehensive tone of discussion, free alike from party bias, 
 and sectional narrowness. A removal to the metropolis of 
 New England brings increase of professional opportunity, 
 and in a few years he stands at the head of the Bar of the 
 whole country. Public life is again thrust upon him, and 
 at one stride he moves to the foremost rank of influence 
 and consideration. His prodigious powers of argument 
 and eloquence, freely given to an admiiiistration opposed 
 to him in politics, crush a dangei-ous political heresy, and 
 kindle a deeper national sentiment. The whole land rings 
 with his name and praise, and foreign ntitions take up and 
 prolong the sound. Every year brings higher trusts, 
 weightier responsibilities, wilder influence, until his country 
 reposes in the shadow of his wisdom, and the powder that 
 proceeds from his mind and character becomes one of the 
 controlling forces in the movements and relations of the 
 civilized world. 
 
 To trace, step by step, the incidents of such a career, 
 would far transcend the limits of a discourse like this, and 
 of all places, it is least needed here. Judging of him by 
 what he was, as well as by what he did, and analyzing the 
 aggregate of his powers, we observe that his life moves in 
 three distinct paths of greatness. He was a great lawyer, 
 a great statesman, and a great writer. The gifts and train- 
 ing, which make a man eminent in any one of these depart- 
 ments, are by no means identical with those which make 
 him eminent in any other. Very few have attained high 
 rank in any two ; and the distinction which Mr. Web- 
 ster reached in all the three is almost without parallel in 
 history. 
 
520 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 He was, from the beginning, more or less occupied with 
 public aifairs, and he continued to the last to be a prac- 
 tising lawyer ; but as regards these two spheres of action, 
 his life may be divided into two distinct portions. From 
 his twenty-third to his forty-first year, the practice of the 
 law was his primary occupation and interest, but from the 
 latter period to his death, it was secondary to his labors as 
 a legislator and statesman. Of his eminence in the law — 
 meaning the law as administered in the ordinary tribunals 
 of the country, without reference, for the present, to con- 
 stitutional questions — there is but one opinion among com- 
 petent judges. Some may have excelled him in a single 
 faculty or accomplishment, but in the combination of 
 qualities which the law requires, no man of his time was, 
 on the whole, equal to him. He was a safe counsellor and 
 a powerful advocate — thorough in the preparation of 
 causes and judicious in the management of them — quick, 
 far-seeing, cautious and bold. His addresses to the jury 
 Avere simple, manly and direct ; presenting the strong 
 points of the case in his strong way, appealing to the 
 reason and conscience, and not to passions and pre- 
 judices, and never weakened by over-statement. He laid 
 his own mind fairly alongside that of the jury, and won 
 their confidence by his sincere way of dealing with them. 
 He had the grace to cease speaking Avhen he had come to 
 an end. His most conspicuous power was his clearness of 
 statement. He threw upon every subject a light like that 
 of the sun at noonday. His mind, by an unerring instinct, 
 separated the important from the unimportant facts in a 
 complicated case, and so presented the former, that he was 
 really making a powerful and persuasive argument, when 
 he seemed to be telling only a plain story in a plain way. 
 The transparency of the stream veiled its depth, and its 
 depth concealed its rapid flow. His legal learning was 
 accurate and perfectly at command, and he had made him- 
 self master of some difficult branches of law, such as 
 special pleading and the law of real property ; but the 
 memory of some of his contemporaries was more richly 
 stored with cases. From his remarkable powers of generali- 
 zation, his elementary reading had filled his mind with 
 principles, and he examined the questions that arose by 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARd's EULOGY. 521 
 
 the liglit of tlieso principles, and then sought in the books 
 for cases to confirm the views which he had reached by re- 
 flection. He never resorted to stratagems and surprises, 
 nor did he let his zeal for his client run away with his self- 
 respect. His judgment was so clear, and his moral sense 
 so strong, that he never could help discriminating between 
 a good cause and a bad one, nor betraying to a close ob- 
 server when he was arguing against his convictions. His 
 manner was admirable, especially for its repose — an effect- 
 ive quality in an advocate, from the consciousness of 
 strt'iigtii which it implies. The uniform respect with 
 which he treated the bench should not be omitted, in sum- 
 ming up his merits as a lawyer. 
 
 The exclusive practice of the law is not held to be the 
 best preparation for public life. Not only does it invigor- 
 ate without expanding — not only does it narrow at the 
 same time that it sharpens — but the custom of addressing 
 juries begets a habit of over-statement, which is a great 
 defect in a public speaker, and the mind that is constantly 
 occupied in looking at one side of a disputed question is 
 apt to forget that it has two. Great minds triumph over 
 these influences, but it is because they never fail, sooner 
 or later, to overleap the formal barriers of the law. Had 
 !Mr. Webster been born in England, and educated to the bar, 
 his powers could never have been confined to Westminster 
 Hall. He would have been taken up and borne into Parlia- 
 ment by an irresistible tide of public opinion. Born where 
 he was, it would have been one of the greatest misfortunes, 
 if he had narrowed his mind and given up to his clients 
 the genius that was meant for the whole country and all 
 time. Admirably as he put a case to a jury or argued it 
 to the court, it was impossible not to feel that in many in- 
 stances an inferior person would have done it nearly or 
 quite as well; and sometimes the disproportion between 
 the man and his work was so great that it reminded one 
 of the task given to Michael Angelo to make a statue of 
 snow. 
 
 His advancing reputation, however, soon led him into a 
 class of cases, the peculiar growth of the institutions of 
 his country, and admirably fitted to train a lawyer to 
 public life, because, though legal in their form, they in- 
 
 44* 
 
522 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 volve great questions of politics and goA'ernment. The 
 system under wliich we live is, in many respects, without a 
 precedent. Singularly complicated in its arrangements, 
 embracing a general government of limited and delegated 
 powers, organized by an interfusion of separate sovereign- 
 ties, all with written Constitutions to be interpreted and 
 reconciled, the imperfection of human language and the 
 strength of human passion leaving a wide margin for war- 
 ring opinions, it is obvious to any person of political ex- 
 perience that many grave questions, both of construction 
 and conflicting jurisdiction, must arise, requiring wisdom 
 and authority for their adjustment. Especially must this 
 be the case in a country like ours, of such great extent, 
 with such immense material resources, and inhabited by so 
 enterprising and energetic a people. It was a fortunate — 
 may we not say a providential ? — circumstance, that the 
 growth of the country began to devolve upon the Supreme 
 Court of the United States the consideration of this class 
 of questions, just at tlie time when Mr. Webster, in his 
 ripe manhood, was abh- to give them the benefit of his ex- 
 traordinary powers of argument and analysis. Previous 
 to the Dartmouth College- case, in 1818, not many import- 
 ant constitutional questions had come before the court, 
 and, since that time, the great lawyer, who then broke 
 upon them with so astonishing a blaze of learning and 
 logic, has exerted a commanding influence in shaping that 
 system of constitutional law — almost a supplementary Con- 
 stitution — wliich has contributed so much to our happiness 
 and prop; erity. Great as is our debt of gratitude to such 
 judges as Marshall and Story, it is hardly less great to such 
 a laAvyer as Mr. Webster. None would have been more 
 ready than these eminent magistrates to acknowledge the 
 assistance they had derived from his masterly arguments. 
 
 In the discussion of constitutional questions, the mind 
 of this great man found a most congenial employment. 
 Here, books, cases and precedents are of comparatively 
 little value. We must ascend to first principles, and be 
 guided by the light of pure reason. Not only is a chain 
 of logical deduction to be fashioned, but its links must 
 first be forged. Geometry itself hardly leads tlie mind 
 into a region of more abstract and essential truth. In 
 
GEOFOl^ S. HILLARD's EULOGY. 523 
 
 those calm heights of speculation and analysis, the genius 
 of Mr. Webster moved Avith natural and majestic sweep. 
 Breaking away from precedents and details, and soaring 
 above the flight of eloquence, it saw the forms of truth in 
 the colorless light and tranquil air of reason. When we 
 dream of intelligences higher than man, we imagine their 
 faculties exercised in serene inquisitions like these, — not 
 spurred by ambition, — not kindled by passion, — roused by 
 no motive but the love of truth, and seeking no reward but 
 the possession of it. 
 
 The respect which has been paid to the decisions of the 
 Supreme Court of the United States is one of the signs 
 of hope for the future, which are not to be overlooked in 
 our desponding moods. The visitor in Washington sees a 
 few grave men, in an unpretending room, surrounded by 
 none of the symbols of command. Some one of them, in 
 a quiet voice, reads an opinion in which the conflicting- 
 rights of sovereign States are weighed and adjusted, and 
 questions, such as have generally led to exhausting wars, 
 are settled by the light of reason and justice. This judg- 
 ment goes forth, backed by no armed force, but com- 
 manded by the moral and intellectual authority of the tri- 
 bunal which pronounces it. It falls upon the waves of 
 controversy with reconciling, subduing power; and haughty 
 sovereignties, as at the voice of some superior intelligence, 
 put off" the mood of conflict and defiance, and yield a 
 graceful obedience to the calm decrees of central justice. 
 There is more cause for national pride in the deference 
 paid to the decisions of this august tribunal, than in all 
 our material triumphs ; and so long as our people are thus 
 loyal to reason and submissive to law, it is a weakness to 
 despair. 
 
 The Dartmouth College case, which has been already 
 mentioned, may be briefly referred to again, since it forma 
 an important era in Mr. Webster's life. His argument in 
 that case stands out among his other arguments, as his speech 
 in reply to Mr. Hayne, among his other speeches. No 
 better argument has been spoken in the English tongue, in 
 the memory of any living man, nor is the child that is born 
 to-day likely to live to hear a better. Its learning is 
 ample, but not ostentatious ; its logic irresistible ; its elo- 
 
524 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 quence vigorous and lofty. I have often heard my revered 
 and beloved friend, Judge Story, speak with great anima- 
 tion of the effect he then produced upon the court. " For 
 the first hour," said he, " we listened to him with perfect 
 astonishment ; for the second hour, Avith perfect^ delight ; 
 for the third hour, with perfect conviction." It is not too 
 much to say that he entered the court on that day a com- 
 paratively unknown name, and left it with no rival hut 
 Pinckney. All the words he spoke on that occasion have 
 not been recorded. When he had exhausted the resources 
 of learning and logic, his mind passed naturally and 
 simply into a strain of feeling not common to the place. 
 Old recollections and early associations came over him, and 
 the vision of his youth rose up. The genius of the_ insti- 
 tution where he was nurtured seemed standing by his side 
 in weeds of mourning, with a countenance of sorrow. With 
 suffused eyes and faltering voice, he broke into an unpre- 
 meditated strain of emotion, so strong and so deep that all 
 who heard him were borne along with it. Heart answered 
 to heart as he spoke, and when he had ceased, the silence 
 and tears of the impassive Bench, as well as the excited 
 audience, were a tribute, to the truth and power of the 
 feeling by which he had been inspired. 
 
 With his election to Congress from the city of Boston, 
 in 1822, the great labors and triumphs of his life begin. 
 From that time until his death, with an interval of about 
 two years after leaving President Tyler's Cabinet, he was 
 constantly in the public service, as Representative, Sena- 
 tor, or Secretary of State. In this period, his biography 
 is included in the history of his country. Without paus- 
 ing to dwell upon the details, and looking at his public 
 life as a whole, let us examine its leading features and 
 guiding principles, and inquire upon what grounds he en- 
 joyed our confidence and admiration while living, and is 
 entitled to our gratitude when dead. 
 
 Public men, in popular governments, are divided into 
 two great classes — statesmen and politicians. The differ- 
 ence between them is like the difference between the artist 
 and the mechanic. The statesman starts with original 
 principles, and is propelled by a self-derived impulse. The 
 politician has his course to choose, and puts himself in a 
 
GEOEGE S. HILLARD's EULOGY, 525 
 
 position to make the best use of the forces which lie out- 
 side of him. The statesman's genius sometimes fails in 
 rcacliing its proper sphere, from the want of the politi- 
 cian's faculty ; and, on the other hand, the politician's 
 intellectual poverty is never fully apprehended till he has 
 contrived to attain an elevation which belongs only to the 
 statesman. The statesman is often called upon to oppose 
 popular opinion, and never is his attitude nobler than 
 when so doing ; but the sagacity of the politician is shown 
 in seeing, a little before the rest of the world, how the 
 stream of popular feeling is about to turn, and so throw- 
 ing himself upon it as to seem to be guiding it, while he 
 is only propelled by it. A statesman makes the occasion, 
 but the occasion makes the politician. 
 
 Mr. Webster was pre-eminently a statesman. He rested 
 his claims upon principles ; and by these he was ready to 
 stand or fall. In looking at the endowments which he 
 brought to the service of his country, a prominent rank is 
 to be assigned to that deep and penetrating wisdom which 
 gave so safe a direction to his genius. His imagination, 
 his passion and his sympathies Avere all kept in subordi- 
 nation to this sovereign power. He saw things as they ' 
 are, neither magnified nor discolored by prejudice or pre- 
 possession. He heard all sides, and did not insist that a 
 thing was true because he wished it to be true, or because 
 it seemed probable to his first inquiry. His post of ob- 
 servation was the central and fixed light of reason, from 
 which all wandering and uncertain elements were at last 
 discerned in their just relations and proportions. The 
 functions of government did not, in his view, lie in the , 
 regions of speculation or emotion. It was "a contrivance 
 of human wisdom to provide for human wants." The 
 ends of government are, indeed, ever identical ; but the 
 means used to attain them are various. The practical 
 statesman must aim, not at the best conceivable, but the 
 best attainable, good. Thus Mr. Webster always recog- 
 nised and accepted the necessities of his position. He 
 did not hope against hope, nor waste his energies in 
 attempting the impossible. Living under a government in 
 Avhich universal suffrage is the ultimate propelling force, 
 he received the expressed sense of the people as a fact, and 
 
526 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 not as an hypothesis. Like all men who are long in public 
 life under popular institutions, he incurred the reproach 
 of inconsistency ; a reproach not resting upon any change 
 of principle — for he never changed his principles — but 
 upon the modification of measures and policy which every 
 enlightened statesman yields to the inevitable march of 
 events and innovations of time. 
 
 Nor was he less remarkable for the breadth and compre- 
 hensiveness of his views. He knew no North, no South, 
 no East, no West. His great mind and patriotic heart 
 embraced the whole land with all its interests and all its 
 claims. He had nothing of partisan narrowness or sec- 
 tional exclusiveness. His point of sight was high enough 
 to take in all parts of the country, and his heart was large 
 enough and warm enough to love it all, to cling to it, to 
 live for it, or die for it. Nothing is more characteristic 
 of greatness than this capacity of enlarged and generous 
 aflections. No public man ever earned more fully the 
 title of a national, an American statesman. No heart 
 ever beat with a higher national spirit than his. The 
 honor of his country was as dear to him as the faces of 
 his children. Where that was in question, his great powers 
 blazed forth like a flame of fire in its defence. Never 
 were his words more weighty, his logic more irresistible, 
 his eloquence more lofty — never did his mind move with 
 more majestic and victorious flight — than when vindicating 
 the rights of his country, or shielding her from unjust 
 aspersions. 
 
 It is a hasty and mistaken judgment to gauge the merits 
 of a statesman, under popular institutions, by the results 
 which he brings about and the measures which he carries 
 through. His opportunities in this respect will depend, 
 generally, upon the fact whether he happens to be in the 
 majority or the minority. How much would be taken 
 from the greatness of one of the greatest of statesmen, 
 Mr. Fox, if this test were applied to him ! The merits of a 
 statesman are to be measured by the good which he does, 
 by the evil which he prevents, by the sentiments which he 
 breathes into the public heart, and the principles he dif- 
 fuses through the public mind. Mr. Webster did not belong 
 to that great political party which, under ordinary circum- 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 527 
 
 stances, and when no exceptional elements have been 
 thrown in, have been able to command a majority in the 
 whole nation, and upon which the responsibility of govern- 
 ing the country has been consequently thrown. Thus, for 
 the larger part of his public life, he was in the minority. 
 But a minority is as important an element, in carrying on 
 a representative government, as a majority ; and he never 
 transcended its legitimate functions. His opposition was 
 open, manly and conscientious ; never factious, never im- 
 portunate. He stated fairly the arguments to which he 
 replied. He did not stoop to personality, or resort to the 
 low and cheap trick of impugning the motives or characters 
 of his opponents. He has earned the respect which the 
 Democratic party, to their honor be it spoken, have shoAvn 
 to his memory. He was a party man, to this extent — he 
 believed that, under a popular government, it was expe- 
 dient that men of substantially the same way of thinking 
 in politics should act together, in order to accomplish any 
 general good, but he never gave up to his party what was 
 meant for his country. "When the turn of the tide threw 
 upon him the initiative of measures, no man ever showed 
 a wiser spirit of legislation or a more just and enlightened 
 policy of statesmanship. He combined what Bacon calls 
 the logical with the mathematical part of the mind. He 
 could judge well of the mode of attaining any end, and 
 estimate, at the same time, the true value of the end itself. 
 His powers were by no means limited to attack and de- 
 fence, but he had the organizing and constructing mind 
 which shapes and fits a course of policy to the wants and 
 temper of a great people. 
 
 His influence as a public man extends over the last 
 forty years, and, during that period, what is there that 
 does not bear his impress ? Go where we will, upon land 
 or sea — from agriculture to commerce, and from commerce 
 to manufactures — turn to domestic industry, to foreign 
 relations, to law, education and religion — everywhere^ we 
 meet the image and superscription of this imperial mind. 
 The Ashburton treaty may stand as a monument of the 
 good he did. His speech in reply to Mr. Hayne may be 
 cited as a proof of toe evil he prevented ; and, for this 
 reason, while its whole eflect can never be measured, its 
 
528 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 importance can hardly be overrated. Probably no_ dis- 
 course ever spoken by man had a wider, more prominent 
 and more beneficial ' influence. Not only did it com- 
 pletely overthrow a most dangerous attack on the Con- 
 stitution, but it made it impossible for it ever to be re- 
 newed. From that day forward the specious front of 
 nullification was branded with treason. If we estimate 
 the claims of a public man by his influence upon the na- 
 tional heart and his contributions to a high-toned national 
 sentiment, who shall stand by the side of Mr. Webster? 
 Where is the theory of constitutional liberty better ex- 
 pounded, and the rules and conditions of national well- 
 being and well-doing better laid down, than in his speeches 
 and writings ? What books should we so soon put into 
 the hands of an intelligent foreigner, who desired to learn 
 the great doctrines of government and administration on 
 which the power and progress of our country repose, and 
 to measure the intellectual stature of a finished American 
 
 man? 
 
 The relation which he held to the politics of the country 
 was the natural result of a mind and temperament like His. 
 A wise patriot, who understands the wants of his time, will 
 throw himself into the scale which most needs the weight 
 of his influence, and choose the side which is best for his 
 country and not for himself. Hence, it may be his duty 
 to espouse defeat, and cleave to disappointment. In weigh- 
 ing the two elements of law and liberty, as they are mingled 
 in our country, he felt that danger was rather to be appre- 
 hended from the preponderance of license tiian of authority 
 — that men were attracted to liberty by the powerful in- 
 stincts of the blood and heart, but to law by the colder and 
 fainter suggestions of the reason. Hence he was a con- 
 servative at home, and gave his influence to the party of 
 permanence ratlier than progression. But in Europe it was 
 diflerent. There he saw that there were abuses to be re- 
 formed, and burdens to be removed ; that the principle of 
 progress was to be encoiu'aged, and that larger infusions 
 of liberty should be poured into the exhausted frames of 
 decayed states. Hence, his sympathies were always on 
 the side of the struggling and the suff'ering ; and, through 
 his powerful voice, the public opinion of America made 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 529 
 
 itself heard and respected in Em^ope. It is a fact worthy 
 of being stated in this connection, that at the moment when 
 a tempest of obloquy was beating upon him, fi-om his sup- 
 posed hostility to the cause of freedom here, a very able 
 Avriter of the Catholic faith, in a striking and, in many 
 respects, admirable essay upon his writings and public life, 
 came reluctantly and respectfully to the conclut-iun that 
 Mr. Webster had forfeited all claim to the support of Ca- 
 tholic voters, from the countenance he had given to the 
 revolutionary spirit of Europe. Such are ever the judg- 
 ments passed by fragmentary men upon a universal man. 
 
 His strong sense of the value of the Union, and the force 
 and frequency with which he discoursed upon this theme, 
 are to be explained by the same traits of mind and cha- 
 racter. He believed that we were more in danger of 
 diffusion than consolidation. He felt that all the primal 
 instincts of patriotism — all the chords of the heart — 
 bound men to their own State, and not to the common 
 country ; and that with the territorial increase of that 
 country it became more and more difficult for the central 
 heart to propel to the extremities the life-blood of invigor- 
 ating national sentiment, without which a State is but a 
 political corporation without a soul. He knew, too, that 
 the name of a Union mio;ht exist without the sul;-'uince, 
 and that a Union for mutual annoyance and defiance, and 
 for mutual aid and support, which kept the word of pro- 
 mise to the ear and broke it to the hope, was hardly worth 
 the having. Hence, he labored earnestly and perseveringly 
 to inculcate a love of the Union, and to present the whole 
 country as an object to be cherished, honored and valued, 
 because he felt that on that side our affections needed to 
 be quickened and strengthened. 
 
 As was to be expected, so powerful a man could not 
 pass through life without encountering strong opposition. 
 All his previous experiences, however, were inconsiderable 
 in comparison with the storm of denunciation which he 
 drew down upon himself by his course on what are com- 
 monly called the Compromise Measures, and, especially, 
 his speech on that occasion. It was natural that men, 
 whose fervid sympathies are wedded to a single idea, 
 should have felt aggrieved by the stand he then took ; and 
 
530 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 if decency and decorum had governed their expressions, 
 neither he nor his friends could have had any right to 
 complain. But, in many cases, the attacks were so foul 
 and ferocious that they lost all claim to be treated as 
 moral judgments, and sunk to the level of the lowest and 
 coarsest effusions of malice and hatred. It is a good rule 
 in politics, as elsewhere, to give men credit for the motives 
 they profess to be actuated by, and to accept their own 
 exposition of their opinions as true. Let us apply these 
 rules to his course at that time. He had opposed the ad- 
 mission of Texas, and predicted the train of evils which 
 would come with it. He had warned the North of the 
 perilous questions with which that measure was fraught. 
 But his prophetic voice was unheeded. Between zeal on 
 one side, and apathy on the other, Texas came in. Then 
 war with Mexico followed, ending in conquest, and leaving 
 the whole of that unhappy country at our mercy. Mr. 
 Webster opposed the dismemberment of Mexico, provided 
 for in the treaty of peace, on the ground that no sooner 
 should we have the immense territory, which we proposed 
 to take, than the question whether slavery should exist 
 there, would agitate the country. But again the warning 
 voice of his wisdom was unheeded, and the storm, which 
 he had predicted, gathered in the heavens. The questions 
 against which he had forewarned his countrymen now 
 clamored for settlement, and would not be put by. They 
 required for their adjustment the most of reason and the 
 least of passion, and they were met in a mood which com- 
 bined the most of passion and the least of reason. The 
 North and the South mot in "angry parle," and the air 
 was darkened with their strife. Mr. Webster's prophetic 
 spirit was heavy within him. He felt that a crisis had 
 arrived in the hi.story of his country, and that the lot of a 
 solemn duty and a stern self-sacrifice had fallen upon him. 
 As he himself said, "he had made up his mind to embark 
 alone on what he was aware would prove a stormy sea, 
 because, in that case, should disaster ensue, there would 
 be but one life lost." In this mood of calm and high re- 
 solve he went forward to meet the portentous issue. 
 
 It is not to be expected that a speech made under such 
 circumstances, going over so wide a range of exciting 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 531 
 
 topics, shouM, in every part, command the immediate and 
 entire assent even of those M'ho would admit its truth and 
 seasonableness as a whole. It is also doubtless true, tliat 
 there are single expressions in it, which, when torn from 
 their context and set by the side of passages from former 
 speeches dealt with in like manner, Avill not be found abso- 
 lutely identical. But the speech of such a man, at such a 
 crisis, is not to be dissected and criticized like a rhetorical 
 exercise. It should be judged as a whole, and read by the 
 light of the occasion which gave it birth. 
 
 The judgments which Mr. Webster's course has called 
 forth were widely divided. By those who hold extreme 
 views, he was charged with expressing sentiments which 
 he did not believe to be true. It was a bid for the 
 Presidency, and his conscience was the price he offered. 
 It is a mere waste of words to argue with men of this 
 cljiss. Fanaticism darkens the mind, and hardens the 
 heart, and where there is neither common sense nor com- 
 mon charity, the first step in a process of reasoning cannot 
 be taken. Otliers maintained that he was mistaken in 
 point of fact, that he took counsel of his fears and not of 
 his wisdom, and that, through him, the opportunity was 
 lost of putting down the South in an open struggle for 
 influence and power. But, in the first place, it is not 
 probable that a man Avho, upon subordinate questions, had 
 shown so much political wisdom and forecast, should Lave 
 been mistaken upon a point of such transcendent injport- 
 ance, to which his attention had been so long and so ear- 
 nestly directed ; and, in the second place, the testimony of 
 all men whose evidence would be received with respect 
 upon any similar subject, fully sustains Mr. Webster in 
 the views he then took of the state of the country, and is 
 equally strong as to the value of the services he rendered. 
 In such an issue, the testimony of retired persons, living 
 among books and their own thoughts, is not entitled to 
 any great value, because they can have no adequate notion 
 of the duties, responsibilities or difficulties of governing a 
 great state, and what need there is of patience and renun- 
 ciation in those who are called to this highest of human 
 functions. A statesman has the right to be tried by his 
 peers. 
 
532 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 It is curious to observe how hatred, whether personal or 
 political, when it enters into the mind, disturbs its func- 
 tions, as a piece of iron in the binnacle of a ship misleads 
 the compass. Many who have found it so hard to forgive 
 Mr. Webster for his independence in opposing them, would 
 admit the importance of having a class of public men who 
 will lead the people and not be led by them, and that a 
 great man is never so great as when withstanding their 
 dangerous wishes and calmly braving their anger. Their 
 eyes will sparkle when they speak of tlie neutral counte- 
 nance of Washington, undismayed by Jacobin clamor, and 
 of the sublime self-devotion of Jay. It is strange that 
 they cannot, or will not, for a moment look at Mr. Web- 
 ster's position from a point of view opposite to their own, 
 admit that he mav have been in the ric-ht, and see him 
 clad in the beauty of self-sacrifice. It is to be feared that 
 this form of virtue is growing more and more rare, as it 
 is more and nioie needed. The story of Curtius leaping 
 into a gulf in the Roman forum is but the legendary 
 form in which a perpetual truth is clothed. In the path 
 of time there are always chasms of error, which only a 
 great self-immolating victim can close. The glory has 
 departed from the land in which that self-devoting stock 
 has died out. 
 
 Mr. Webster was an ambitious man. He desired the 
 highest office in the gift of the people. But on this sub- 
 ject, as on all others, there was no concealment in his 
 nature. An ambition is not a Aveakness, unless it be dls- 
 proportioned to the capacity. To have more ambition 
 than ability, is to be at once weak and unhappy. With 
 him it was a noble passion, because it rested upon noble 
 powers. lie was a man cast in a heroic mould. His 
 thoughts, his Avishes, his passions, his aspirations, were all 
 on a grander scale than those of other men. Unexercised 
 capacity is always a source of rusting discontent. The 
 height to which men may rise is in proportion to the up- 
 ward force of their genius, and they will never be calm 
 till they have attained their predestined elevation. Lord 
 Bacon says, "As in nature things move violently to their 
 place, and calmly in their place, so virtue in ambition is 
 violent; in authority, settled and calm." Mr. Webster 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 538 
 
 had a giant's brain and a giant's heart, and he wanted r, 
 giant's work. He found repose in those strong conflict^' 
 and great duties which crush the weak and madden the 
 sensitive. He thought that, if he were elevated to the 
 highest place, he should so administer the government as 
 to make the country honored abroad, and great and happy 
 at home. He thought, too, that he could do something to 
 make us more truly one people. This, above every thing 
 else, was his ambition. And we, who knew him better 
 than others, felt that it was a prophetic ambition, and we 
 honored and trusted him accordingly. 
 
 As a writer and as a public speaker upon the great in- 
 terests of his country, Mr. Webster stands before us, and 
 will stand before those who will come after us, as the lead- 
 ing spirit of his time. Sometimes, indeed, his discussions 
 may have been too grave to be entirely effective at the 
 moment of their delivery, but all of them are quarries of 
 political wisdom ; for while others have solved only the 
 particular problem before them, he has given the rule that 
 reaches all of the same class. As a general remark, his 
 speeches are a striking combination of immediate effective- 
 ness and enduring worth. He never, indeed, goes out of 
 his way for philosophical observations, nor lingers long in 
 the tempting regions of speculation, but his mind, while he 
 advances straight to his main object, drops from its abun- 
 dant stores those words of wisdom which will keep, through 
 all time, a vital and germinating power. His logic is vigor- 
 ous and compact, but there is no difficulty in following 
 his argument, because his reasoning is as clear as it is 
 strong. The leading impression he leaves upon the mind 
 is that of irresistible weight. We are conscious of a pro- 
 pelling power, before which every thing gives way or goes 
 down. The hand of a giant is upon us, and we feel that 
 it is in vain to struggle. The eloquence of Burke, with 
 whom he is always most fitly compared, is like a broad 
 river, winding through a cultivated landscape ; that of 
 Mr. Webster is like a clear mountain-stream, compressed 
 between walls of rock. 
 
 But his claims as a writer do not rest exclusively upon 
 his political speeches. His occasional discourses, and his 
 diplomatic writings, would alone make a great reputation. 
 
534 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 His occasional discourses rise above the rest of their class, as 
 the Bunker Hill monument soars above the objects around 
 it. His Plymouth Oration, especially, is a production 
 which all -who have followed in the same path must ever 
 look upon with admiration and despair. It was the begin- 
 ning of a new era in that department of literature. It 
 was the first and greatest of its class, and has naturally 
 fixed a standard of excellence which has been felt in the 
 efforts of all who have come after him. Its merits of style 
 and treatment are of the highest order, and it is marked 
 throughout by great dignity of sentiment and an elevating 
 and stirrinw tone of moral feelino;, which lifts the mind 
 into regions higher than can be reached by eloquence, or 
 power of expression alone. 
 
 His diplomatic writings claim unqualified praise. Such 
 discussions require a cautious as well as firm hand, for a 
 single rash expression, falling upon an explosive state of 
 mind, may shatter to pieces the most hopeful negotiation. 
 Mr. Webster combines great force of statement with per- 
 fect decorum of manner. It is the iron hand, but the 
 silken glove. He neither claims nor yields a single inch 
 beyond the right. His attitude is neither aggressive nor 
 distrustful. He is strong in himself and strong in his 
 position. His style is noble, dignified and transparent. It 
 is the "large utterance" of a great people. I know of no 
 modern compositions which, in form and substance, embody 
 so much of Avhat "\ve understand by the epithet Roman. 
 Such, indeed, we may imagine the state papers of the 
 Roman P.nate to have been, in the best days of the Re- 
 public. 
 
 His arguments, speeches, occasional discourses and 
 diplomatic writings hnve all a marked family likeness. 
 They are all characterized by strength and simplicity. He 
 never goes out of his way to make a point or drag in an 
 illustration. His ornaments, sparingly introduced, are of 
 that pure gold which defies the sharpest test of criticism. 
 He had more of imagination, properly so called, than 
 fancy, and his images are more grand than picturesque. 
 He writes like a man who is thinking of his subject, and 
 not of his style, and thus wastes no time upon the mere 
 garb of his thoughts. His mind was so full that epithet 
 
GEOROE S. HILLARD's EULOGY. 535 
 
 and illustration grew with his words, like flowers on the 
 stalk. It is a striking fact that a man who has had so 
 great an influence over the mind of America should have 
 been so free from our national defects ; our love of exas:- 
 geration, and our excessive use of figurative language. 
 His style is Doric, not Corinthian. His sentences are like 
 shafts hewn from the granite of his own hills — simple, 
 massive and strong. We may apply to him what Quinti- 
 lian says of Cicero, that a relish for his writings is itself a 
 mark of good taste. He is always plain ; sometimes even 
 homely and unfinished. But a great writer may be, and 
 indeed must be, homely and unfinished at times. Dealing 
 with great subjects, he must vary his manner. Some things 
 he will put in the foreground, and some in the background; 
 some in light, and some in shadow. He will not hesitate, 
 therefore, to say plain things in a plain way. When the 
 glow and impulse of his genius are upon him, he will not h 
 stop to adjust every fold in his mantle. His writings will 
 leave upon the mind an eff"ect like that of the natural 
 landscape upon the eye, where nothing is trim and formal, 
 but where all the sweeps and swells, though rarely conform- 
 ing to an ideal line of beauty, blend together in a general 
 impression of grace, fertility and power. 
 
 His knowledge of law, politics and government was pro- 
 found, various and exact ; but a man of learning, in the 
 sense in which this word is commonly used, he could not 
 be called. His life had been too busy to leave much time 
 for scientific or literary research ; nor had he that passion- 
 ate love of books which made him content to pass all his 
 leisure hours in his library. He had read much, but not 
 many books. He was a better Latin scholar than the ave- 
 rage of our educated men, and he read the Roman authors, 
 to the last, with discriminating relish. A mind like his 
 was naturally drawn to the grand and stately march of 
 Roman genius. With the best English writers he was en- 
 tirely familiar, and he took great pleasure in reading them 
 and discussing their merits. 
 
 To science, as recorded in books, he had given little 
 time, but he had the faculties and organization which 
 would easily have made him a man of science. He had 
 the senses of an Indian hunter. Of the knowledge that 
 
536 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 is gathered by observation — as of the names and properties 
 of plants, the song and plumage of birds, and the forms 
 and growth of trees — he had much more than most men 
 of his class. His eye was accurate as his mind was dis- 
 criminating. Never was his conversation more interesting 
 than when speaking of natural objects and natural pheno- 
 mena. His words had the freshness of morning, and 
 seemed to bring with them the breezes of the hills and the 
 fragrance of spring. 
 
 Mr. Webster, both as a writer and a speaker, was un- 
 equal, and, from the nature of his mind and temperatiient, 
 it could not be otherwise. He was not of an excitable 
 organization, and felt no nervous anxiety lest he should 
 fall below the standard of expectation raised by previous 
 efforts. Hence, he was swayed by the mood, mental or 
 physical, in which each occasion found him. He required 
 a great subject, or a great antagonist, to call forth all his 
 slumbering power. At times, he looked and spoke almost 
 like a superhuman creature ; at others, he seemed but the 
 faint reflex of himself. His words fell slowly and heavily 
 from his lips, as if each cost him a distinct effort. The in- 
 fluence, therefore, which he had over popular assemblies, 
 was partly owing to his great weight of character. 
 
 He had strong out-of-door tastes, and they contributed 
 to the health of his body and mind. He was a keen sports- 
 man, and a lover of the mountains and the sea. His heart 
 warmed to a fine tree, as to the face of a friend. He had 
 that fondness for agriculture and rural pursuits so common 
 among statesmen. Herein the grand scale of the whole 
 man> orave direction and character to his tastes. He did 
 not care for minute finish and completeness on a limited 
 scale. He had no love for trim gardens and formal plea- 
 sure-grounds. His wishes clasped the whole landscape. 
 He liked to see the broad fields of clover, with the morning 
 dew upon them, yellow waves of grain heaving and rolling 
 in the sun, and great cattle lying down in the shade of 
 great trees. He liked to hear the whetting of the mower's 
 scythe, the loud beat of the thresher's flail, and the heavy 
 groan of loaded wagons. The smell of the new-mown hay, 
 and of the freshly-turned furrows in spring, was cordial to 
 his spirit. He took pleasure in all forms of animal hfe, 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 537 
 
 and liis heart was glad when his cattle lifted up their large- 
 eyed, contemplative faces, and recognised their lord by a 
 look. 
 
 His mental powers were commended by a remarkable 
 personal appearance. He was probably the grandest-look- 
 ing man of his time. Wherever he went, men turned to 
 gaze at him ; and he could not enter a room without having 
 every eye fastened upon him. His face was very striking, 
 both in form and color. His brow was to common brows 
 what the great dome of St. Peter's is to the small cupolas 
 at its side. The eyebrow, the eye, and the dark and deep 
 socket in which it glowed, were full of power; but the 
 great expression of his face lay in the mouth. This was 
 the most speaking and flexible of features, moulded by 
 every mood of feeling, from iron severity to the most cap- 
 tivating sweetness. His countenance changed from stern- 
 ness to softness with magical rapidity. His smile was 
 beaming, warming, fascinating, lighting up his whole face 
 like a sudden sunrise. His voice was rich, deep and strong; 
 filling the largest space without effort, capable of most 
 startling and impressive tones, and, when under excitement, 
 rising and swelling into a volume of sound like the roar 
 of a tempest. His action was simple and dignified — and 
 in his animated moods highly expressive. Those of us who 
 recall his presence as he stood up here to speak, in the 
 pride and strength of his manhood, have formed from his 
 words, looks, tones and actions, an ideal standard of phy 
 sical and intellectual power, which we never expect to see 
 approached, but by which we unconsciously try the great- 
 ness of which we read, as well as that which we meet. 
 
 He was a man more known and admired than understood. 
 His great qualities were conspicuous from afar ; but that 
 part of his nature, which he shared with other men, was 
 apprehended by comparatively few. His manners did not 
 always do him justice. For many years of his life, great 
 burdens rested upon him, and at times his cares and 
 thoughts settled down darkly upon his spirit, and he was 
 then a man of an awful presence. He required to be loved, 
 before he could be known. He, indeed, grappled his friends 
 to him with hooks of steel, but he did not always concduite 
 those who were not his friends. He had a lofty spirit, which 
 
538 • EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 could not stoop or dissemble. He could neither affect what 
 he did not feel, nor desire to conceal what he did. His 
 wishes clung with tenacious hold to every thing the j grasped 
 — and from those who stood, or seemed to stand, in his way, 
 his countenance was averted. Some, who were not unwill- 
 ing to become his friends, were changed by his manners 
 into foes. He was social in his nature, but not facile. He 
 was seen to the best advantage among a few old and tried 
 friends, especially in his old home. Then his spirits rose, 
 his countenance expanded, and he looked and moved like a 
 schoolboy on a holiday. Conscious that no unfriendly ear 
 was listening to him, his conversation became easy, play- 
 ful and natural. His memory was richly stored with cha- 
 racteristic anecdotes, and with amusing reminiscences of 
 his own early life and of the men who were conspicuous 
 when he was young, all of which he narrated with an ad- 
 mirable mixture of dignity and grace. Thosd»who saw him 
 in these hours of social ease, with his armor off, and the 
 current of his thoughts turning, gently and gracefully, to 
 chance topics and familiar themes, could hardly believe 
 that he was the same man who was so reserved and austere 
 in public. 
 
 But, it may be asked, had this great man no faults ? 
 Surely he had. No man liveth and sinneth not. There 
 were veins of human imperfection runnins throujrh his 
 large heart and large brain. But neither men, nor the 
 works of men, should be judged by their defects. Like all 
 eminent persons, he fell upon evil tongues ; but those who 
 best knew his private life most honored, venerated, and 
 loved him. 
 
 He was a man of strong religious feeling. For theolo- 
 gical speculations he had little taste, but he had reflected 
 deeply on the relations between God and the human soul, 
 and his heart was penetrated with a devotional spirit. He 
 had been, from his youth upward, a diligent student of the 
 Scriptures, and few men, whetlier clergymen or laymen, 
 Avere more familiar with their teachings and their language. 
 He had a great reverence for the very words of the Bible, 
 and never used them in any light or trivial connection. 
 He never avoided the subjects of life, death and immor- 
 tality, and when he spoke of them, it was with unusual 
 
GEORGE S. HILLARD'S EULOGY. 539 
 
 depth of feeling and impressiveness of manner. Within 
 the last few months of his life, his thoughts and speech 
 were often turned upon such themes. He felt that he Avas 
 an old man, and tliat it became him to set his liouse in 
 order. On the eighteenth day of January last, he h;.d 
 completed the threescore and ten years which are man's 
 allotted portion, and yet his eye was not dim, nor Lis 
 natural force much abated. But he grew Aveaker with the 
 approach of summer, and his looks and voice, when he last 
 addressed us from this place, a few months ago, forced 
 upon us the mournful reflection that this great light must 
 soon sink below the horizon. But yet, when the news came 
 that the hand of death was upon him, it startled us like a 
 sudden blow, for he was become so important to us, that we 
 could not look steadily at the thought of losing him. You 
 remember what a sorrow it was that settled down upon our 
 city. The common business of life dragged heavily with 
 us in those days. There was but one expression on the 
 faces of men, and but one question on their lips. We 
 listened to the tidings which came up, hour after hour, f)'om 
 his distant chamber, as men upon the shore, in a night of 
 storm, listen to the minute-guns of a sinking ship freighted 
 with the treasures of their hearts. The grief of the people 
 was eager for the minutest details of his closing hours, and 
 he died with his country around his bed. Of the beauty 
 and grandeur of that death I need not speak to you, for it 
 is fixed in your memories, and deep in your hearts. It fell 
 upon the whole land like a voice from heaven. He died 
 calmly, simply and bravely. He Avas neither Aveary of life, 
 nor afraid of death. He died like a husband, a father, a 
 friend, a Christian and a man ; with thoughtful tenderness 
 for all around him, and a trembling faith in the n^ercy of 
 God. He Avas not tried by long and hopeless suffering; 
 nor were his friends saddened by seeing the lights put out 
 before the curtain fell. His mind, like a setting sun, seemed 
 larger at the closing hour. Such a death narrows the dark 
 valley to a span. Such is a midsummer's day at the poles, 
 where sunset melts into sunrise, and the last ray of evening 
 is caught up, and appears once more as the first beams of 
 the ncAv morning. 
 
 I should not feel that my duty had been wholly dis- 
 
540 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 charged, did I not speak of the touching simplicity and 
 solemnity of his funeral. In his will, made a few days 
 before his death, he says : " I wish to be buried without 
 the least show or ostentation, but in a manner respectful to 
 my neighbors, whose kindness has contributed so much to 
 the happiness of me and mine, and for whose prosperity I 
 offer sincere prayers to God." His wishes were faithfully 
 observed, and, in the arrangements for his funeral, there 
 was no recognition of worldly distinction or official rank. 
 He was buried simply as the head of a household, after the 
 manner of New England. But the immense crowds which 
 were there, drawn from all parts of the land by their own 
 veneration and love, formed an element of impressiveness 
 far above all civil pageantry or military honors. Who, 
 that was there present, will ever forget the scene on which 
 fell the light of that soft autumnal day ? There was the 
 landscape so stamped with his image and identified with his 
 presence. There were the trees he had planted, the fields 
 over which he had delighted to walk, and the ocean vfhose 
 waves were music to his ear. There was the house with its 
 hospitable door ; but the stately form of its master did not 
 stand there, with outstretched hand and smile of welcome. 
 That smile had vanished forever from the earth, and the 
 hand and form were silent, cold and motionless. The dig- 
 nity of life had given place to the dignity of death. No 
 narrow chamber held that illustrious dust ; no coffin con- 
 cealed that majestic frame. In the open air, clad as when 
 alive, he lay extended in seeming sleep ; with no touch of 
 disfeature upon his brow ; as noble an image of reposing 
 strength as ever was seen upon earth. Around him was 
 the landscape that he loved, and above him was nothing 
 but the dome of the covering heavens. The sunshine fell 
 upon the dead man's face, and the breeze blew over it. A 
 lover of nature, he seemed to be gathered into her mater- 
 nal arms, and to lie like a child upon a mother's lap. We 
 felt, as we looked upon him, that death had never stricken 
 down, at one blow, a greater sum of life. And whose heart 
 did not swell, when, from the honored and distinguished 
 men there gathered togotlier, six phiin Marshfield farmers 
 were called forth, to carry the head of their neigiibor to 
 the grave ? Slowly and sadly the vast multitude foliowe(i, 
 
HIRAM KETCHUM'S EULOGY. 541 
 
 in mourning silence, and he was laid down to rest among 
 dear and kindred dust. There, among the scenes that he 
 loved in life, he sleeps well. He has left his name and 
 memory to dwell forever upon those hills and valleys, to 
 breathe a more spiritual tone into the winds that blow over 
 his grave, to touch with finer light the line of the break- 
 ing wave, to throw a more solemn beauty upon the hues of 
 Autumn and the shadows of twilight. 
 
 But though his mortal form is there, his spirit is here. 
 His words are written in living light along these walls. 
 May that spirit rest upon us and our children ! May those 
 words live in our hearts and the hearts of those who come 
 after us ! May we honor his memory, and show our grati- 
 tude for his life by taking heed to his counsels, and walk- 
 ing in the way on which the light of his wisdom shines ! 
 
 XVII. 
 
 EULOGY ON MR. WEBSTER, DELIVERED IN NEW YORK 
 CITY, BY HIRAM KETCHUM, ESQ. 
 
 " The offices of this day belong less to grief and sorrow 
 than congratulation and joy. It is true that our illustrious 
 countryman, Daniel Webster, is no longer numbered 
 among the living, but it is a subject of congratulation that 
 he lived beyond the ordinary period allotted to human life, 
 and that he was permitted to die, as he had lived for thirty 
 years, in the service of his country ; and at his own home, 
 in his own bed, surrounded by his domestic family and 
 friends. The great luminary of the bar, the Senate and 
 the Council Chamber is set forever, but it is a subject of 
 rejoicing that it is set in almost supernatural splendor, ob- 
 scured by no cloud, not a ray darkened. 
 
 " 1 have often heard Mr. Webster express a great dread, 
 I may say horrible dread, of a failure of intellect. He 
 did not live long enough to experience such failure. I 
 rejoice that he lived long enough to collect, and supervise, 
 and publish to the world his own works. Many of our 
 
 46 
 
542 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 (listlnn;uished countrymen live only in tradition; but Daniel 
 Webster has ma<le up the record for himself ; a record 
 which discloses, clear as light, his political, moral and re- 
 ligious principles — a record containing ' no word which, 
 dying, he might wish to blot' or any friend of his desire 
 to efface. More than any living man, he has instructed 
 the whole generation of American citizens in their political 
 duties, and taught the young men of the country how to 
 think clearly, reason fairly, and clothe thought in the most 
 simple and beautiful English. He has reared his own 
 monument. ' There it stands, and there it will stand for- 
 ever !' The rock which was first pressed by the feet of the 
 Pilgrims first landing on the shores of this Western Conti- 
 nent is destined long to be remembered ; but not longer 
 than the oration commemorating that event, delivered two 
 hundred years after it occurred, by Daniel Webster. 
 
 " The monument which indicates the spot where the first 
 great battle of the American Revolution was fought will 
 stand as long as monumental granite can stand ; but lono- 
 after it is obliterated and scattered, the oration delivered 
 on laying its corner-stone, and the other oration, pro- 
 nounced nineteen years after, on its completion, will live to 
 tell that such a monument was. The names of John 
 Adams and Thomas Jeff"erson will be known to a distant 
 futurity ; but I believe that among the last records which 
 will tell of their ?iame will be the eulogy, of which they 
 were the theme, pronounced by Daniel Webster. We all 
 hope, and some of us believe, that the Constitution and 
 Union of our country will be perpetual ; but we know that 
 the speeches and orations in defence and commendation of 
 that Constitution and Union delivered by Daniel Webster 
 will live as long as the English language is spoken among 
 men. I might refer to the Capitol of the country, to every 
 important institution, and every great name in our land 
 among the living and the dead, for there is not one of them 
 that has not been embalmed in his eloquence. 
 
 " In the few remaining remarks which I have to make," 
 continued Mr. Ketchum, " allow me, sir, to speak of some 
 of the personal characteristics of Mr. Webster, as they 
 have fallen under my own observation. I have long been 
 acquainted with him. From all I know, have seen and 
 
HIRAM KETCHUM's EULOGY. 543 
 
 hoard, I am here, to-day, to bear testimony that Daniel 
 Webster, as a public man, possessed the highest integrity. 
 He always seemed tome to act under the present conviction 
 that whatever he did would be known not only to his con- 
 temporaries, but to posterity. He was ' clear in office.' 
 He regarded political power as power in trust ; and though 
 always willing and desirous to oblige his friends, yet he 
 would never, directly or indirectly, violate that trust. I 
 have known him in private and domestic life. During the 
 last twenty-five years I have received many letters from 
 him ; some of wiiich I yet retain, and some have been de- 
 stroyed at his lequest. I have had the pleasure of meet- 
 ing him often in private circles and at the festive board, 
 wdiere some of our sessions were not short ; but neither in 
 his letters nor his conversation have I ever known him to 
 express an impure thought, an immoral sentiment, or use 
 profane language. Neither in writing nor in conversation 
 have I ever known him to assail any man. No man, in 
 my hearing, was ever slandered or spoken ill of by Daniel 
 Webster. Never in my life have I known a man whose 
 conversation was uniformly so unexceptionable in tone and 
 edifying in character. No man ever had more tenderness 
 of feeling than Daniel Webster. He had his enemies as 
 malignant as any man ; but there was not one_ of them 
 who,°if he came to him in distress, Avould not obtain all the 
 relief in his power to bestow. To say that he had no weak- 
 nesses and failings would be to say that he was not human. 
 Those failings have been published to the world, and his 
 friends would have no reason to complain of that if they 
 had not been exaggerated. It is due to truth and sound 
 morality to say, in this place, that no public services, no 
 eminent talent, can or should sanctify errors. It was one 
 of Mr. Webster's characteristics that he abhorred all affec- 
 tation. That affectation, often seen in young men, of speak- 
 ing in public upon the impulse of the moment, without pre- 
 vious thought and preparation, of all others he most de- 
 spised. He never spoke without previous thought and 
 laborious preparation. As was truly said by my venerable 
 friend who just sat down, (Mr. Staples,) he was industrious 
 to the end. When, on leaving college, he assumed the 
 place of teacher in an academy, in an interior town of New 
 
544 EULOGIES ON WEBSTER. 
 
 England, the most intelligent predicted his future e!n'- 
 nence. After his first speech in court, in his native State, 
 a learned judge remarked, 'I have just heard a speech 
 from a young man who Avill hereafter become the first man 
 in the country.' The predictions that were made of Daniel 
 Webster's career were not merely that he would be a great 
 man, but the first man. 
 
 " I have often thought that if other men could have been 
 as diligent and assiduous as Mr. Webster, they might have 
 equalled him in achievement. When he addressed the court, 
 the bar, the Senate, or the people, he ever thought he had 
 no right to speak without previous preparation. He came 
 before the body to which he was to speak with his thoughts 
 arrayed in their best dress. He thought this was due to 
 men who would stand and hear him ; and the result was 
 that every thing he said was always worthy of being read ; 
 and no public man in our country has ever been so much 
 read. 
 
 " It may he conceded (whether it was a virtue or a weak- 
 ness) that Daniel Webster was ambitious. He was. He 
 desired to attain high position, and to surpass every man 
 who had occupied the same before him. He spared no 
 labor or assiduity to accomplish this end. Whether he has 
 succeeded or not, posterity must say. I will add, that it is 
 true that he desired the highest political position in the 
 country ; that he thought he had fairly earned a claim to 
 that position. And I solemnly believe that because that 
 claim was denied, his days Were shortened. I came here, 
 sir, to speak of facts as they are ; neither to censure nor to 
 applaud any man or set of men : whether what has been 
 done has been well done, or what has been omitted has been 
 well omitted, the public must decide. May I be permitted 
 to add that, though I am no man's worshipper, I have 
 deeply sympathized in thought, in word and in act with 
 that desire of Mr. Webster ? I have continued this sym- 
 pathy with that desire to the last moment of his life. If 
 there be honor in this, let it attach to me and mine ; if 
 disgrace, let it be visited upon me and my children." 
 
THE OBSEQUIES OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 The funeral of Mr. Webster, at Marshfield, on Friday, 
 was a most imposing spectacle. The "Post" describes it 
 as follows : 
 
 The sun had not risen before the people began to gather 
 in vehicles of every description. The neighboring towns 
 were besieged the night previous with strangers on their 
 way to the funeral. Every hotel, private dwelling, barn, 
 shed and stable for ten miles around Marshfield were oc- 
 cupied on Thursday night. The gathering was large be- 
 yond calculation. Every avenue leading to Marshfield 
 was thronged with inward-bound vehicles from the time 
 named above until the tomb closed over the remains of 
 the great departed. The number of carriages was so 
 great that the avenues to the grounds in the rear of the 
 mansion were thrown open to receive them. Two steam- 
 boats, the Mayflower and the Atlantic, entered Green Bay 
 freighted with about fifteen hundred people. The last 
 named did not land her passengers until near half-past 
 two o'clock. The remains of Mr. Webster were removed 
 from the library about nine o'clock in the morning to a 
 position immediately in front of the mansion, beneath the 
 spreading branches of a large and magnificent silver- 
 leafed poplar-tree. The cover of the cofiin was then 
 removed, presenting a view of the entire body. It was 
 attired in a suit familiar to all who have ever seen Mr. 
 Webster. The Faneuil Hall suit — the blue coat with 
 bright buttons, white pants, white vest, white neckerchief, 
 with wide collar turned over. The features of Mr. Web- 
 ster were natural, and exhibited a marked serenity, seem- 
 ing rather to be those of a pleasant sleeper than one in 
 the arms of death. The coffin, or " metallic burial-case," is 
 very beautiful. It is so constructed as to combine every 
 valuable quality for deposit in the earth, and the preserva- 
 
 46* 545 
 
546 OBSEQUIES OF WEBSTER. 
 
 tion of remains from decomposition. It is similar in its 
 outlines to the human form when placed in a horizontal or 
 recumbent position. It consists of an upper and lower 
 metallic shell, which are joined together in a horizontal 
 line in the centre, each part being of about equal depth. 
 These shells are more or less curvilinear, and are made 
 exceedingly thin, yet being sufficiently strong to resist any 
 pressure to which they may be subject Avhile in use. The 
 shells have each a narrow 'flange, which, when placed to- 
 gether, are bound by screws, inserted through the flanges 
 and cemented at the point of junction with a substance 
 which soon becomes as hard as the metal itself. The case 
 is enamelled inside and out, and is made thoroughly air- 
 tight. The upper shell is raised-work, and ornamented in 
 the casting with the appearance of folding drapery thrown 
 over the body. This is covered with a rich black drapery, 
 neatly gathered and beautifully fringed. The case was 
 superbly decorated with chased silver ornaments, with 
 flowers and emblems of mortality neatly inwrought. It 
 has a heavy oval glass over the face, on which is screwed a 
 silver cover ; on the breast of the upper shell is a smooth 
 silver plate, upon Avhich is inscribed alone the name of 
 Daniel Webster. It has three ornamental silver handles 
 on each side. This elegant piece of work was manufac- 
 tured by Messrs. Huyler & Putnam, of New York. The 
 entire farm, consisting of one thousand seven hundred and 
 sixty-two acres, was thrown open to the public, as also was 
 the mansion, both of which were inspected in every part 
 by the vast multitude assembled. A stream of human 
 beings passed through each room of the lower part of the 
 mansi^^n, entering at the eastern door and passing out the 
 west, from the hour of ten o'clock in the morning until 
 twelve, at the rate of two hundred and twenty-four per- 
 sons every five minutes. At eleven o'clock, delegati.ons, 
 representing various city governments, and Whig and De- 
 mocratic organizations, and literary institutions, arrived. 
 General Franklin Pierce was present, under conduct of 
 Peter Harvey and James E. Thayer, of Boston, and Dr. 
 Putnam, of Roxbury. President King, of the Columbia 
 College ; the venerable Chief Justice Jones, of New York ; 
 Governor Marcy, Judge Parker, and Judge Harris, of 
 
OBSEQUIES OF WEBSTER. 
 
 547 
 
 Albany ; the Hon. George Griswold, of New York ; Hon. 
 Abbott Lawrence, Hon. Rufus Choate, President Everett, 
 Mr. Ashmun, Robert G. Shaw, his Excellency Governor 
 Boutwell and Council, General Wilson, President of the 
 Massachusetts Senate, and Speaker Banks and Judge 
 Sprague, were among the distinguished persons present. 
 The body was so arranged, and guarded by a body of 
 police from this city, detailed to that duty, that it was wit- 
 nessed by nearly all who desired before the services. At 
 half-past twelve 'o'clock it was enclosed, and placed upon 
 a plain open hearse, neatly draped, and drawn by two jet 
 black horses, appropriately dressed. At this hour the 
 services were announced to commence. The officiating 
 clergyman, the Rev. Ebenezer Alden, Jr., pastor of the 
 Orthodox Society in Marshfield, where Mr. Webster and 
 family attended church, occupied a position in the front 
 hall, near the door. The crowd at this time, inside and 
 outside the door, was very great. The female relatives 
 occupied the upper portion of the house. Mr. Alden 
 commenced the services by reading a selection from the 
 Scripture. He then delivered a feeling address, after 
 which prayer followed. 
 
 The procession then formed, composed wholly ot males, 
 without carriages, and at half-past one moved froni the 
 residence to the tomb upon an eminence in the rear of the 
 mansion, north. This is upon the Webster estate, and m 
 the centre of what is called Winslow's Burying-Ground 
 The remains of Governor Winslow lie here ; also those of 
 Peregrine White, the first person born in this country of 
 the Pih^rim stock. About one year since, Mr. Webster 
 caused a portion of this place to be enclosed for his own 
 family, and a tomb constructed. This tomb was first oc- 
 cupied on Thursday by the bodies of Mr. Webster's family, 
 all of whom were removed from under St. Paul's Church, 
 in this city. The pall-bearers were composed of farmers 
 in Mr. Webster's own neighborhood. 
 
 The procession was large, imposing, and solemn. Upon 
 reaching the enclosure, the body was placed near the en- 
 trance, and again opened to view for the relatives and 
 friends. Here a delay was occasioned by the arrival of 
 about seven hundred persons from Boston, having just 
 
6' 
 
 548 OBSEQUIES OF WEBSTER. 
 
 reached there from the steamer Atlantic, all of whom de- 
 siied to witness the remains, and were gratified. At twenty 
 minutes before three o'clock the case was again closed, and 
 the Rev. Mr. Alden pronounced the prayer and benedic- 
 tion. 
 
 The body was placed in a large-sized case, and entombed, 
 and the assembled multitude wended their way slowly 
 from the spot. Silently and sadly the gathered host took 
 up the line of march* homeward, and by four o'clock in the 
 afternoon the accustomed quiet reigned within and around 
 the fine old mansion of the late illustrious statesman. The 
 occasion was one never to be forgotten. It was the most 
 solemn and impressive we ever witnessed. It was estimated 
 that the funeral was attended by at least ten thousand 
 persons. 
 
 The "Boston Atlas," speaking of the ceremonies, says 
 that General Pierce, who was present, appeared to be much 
 afi'ected. The coffin and remains were exposed to view on 
 the lawn in front of the house. 
 
 A large number of bouquets and wreaths of flowers 
 covered the body. The pall-bearers, who were all men 
 from fifty to seventy years of age, seemed deeply affected 
 by the occasion. Each side of the road on the route of 
 the procession was lined with people. 
 
 It is impossible for us to convey an idea of the singular 
 solemnity and simplicity which characterized the occasion 
 It was an appropriate and spontaneous testimony, from 
 people of all classes, professions and opinions, to the 
 greatness of mind and grandeur of character of him 
 whose loss they mourned. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 ISb 
 
 0?9