. : ■ ■ ■ . . E 340 .W79 S7 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS ^ .^ ^_ v v ... i» % . «fi»£*.. ^ *9^ -i' -0- A ^ ■4<3* I • o, "v. ^ W .* * 1 • o. V* * 7* ,«. v v> > «"9 V « .0^ C*^» '•• **b. vT-v ,*' o^ * ^ ^ » o .e country, and with the deep agitations of political controversy. It was a time of great excitement ; and the proceed- ings of the Assembly in that year have been the sub- ject of more discussion, and produced a stronger effect on the formation and fate of parties, and the construction of the constitution, than those of any which has assembled in that or any other State. They have been text books for succeeding politi- cians ; although, I believe, their precise meaning is, even yet, subject of debate. Of their merits, the occasion does not require me to speak. The con- stitutional opinions of the clerk, at that period of his life, may be inferred from the fact, that he concurred in their general principles. The impression which he made upon the members of the Legislature, by the manner in which he discharged his office, and by his intercourse with them, was exhibited in his selection, two years afterwards, for a high and weighty office. His first appearance in Richmond, as a speaker, was upon the 4th of July, 1800, and in the defence 19 of Callender. This oration is in print, and worthy of perusal. It exhibits a fine contrast with the more chastened productions of later years ; showing the effect of labor and study upon a mind capable of great effort and steady advancement. It is fervid, rapid, imaginative, descriptive — full of imagery, fine feeling, and principle— not destitute of sober thought, but not carefully and diligently arranged or pruned. The trial of Callender brought him into notice, as well from his performance, as from the treatment of the court. It will be recollected that the conduct of Judge Chase gave rise to one of the charges on his impeachment. His interruption of Mr. Wirt, and commanding him to sit down, were considered by many as harsh and intolerant. But the recollec- tions of the parties justify a favorable inference as to both. The advocate retained no resentments, and did not appear as a witness against the accused. The judge afterwards spoke of the talents and man- ner of the advocate with kindness, and felt an inter- est in his prosperity. Previous to 1802, but one Court of Chancery exist- ed, having jurisdiction throughout the State, and held by the learned and profound Chancellor Wythe. In that year three courts were created. The court of the Lower District was directed to be held at Wil- liamsburg ; and the Legislature, most unexpectedly, without solicitation, with great unanimity, and greatly to his own surprise, appointed Mr. Wirt Chancellor of that District. The idea of this appointment was suggested to him on the evening preceding its occur- 20 rence ; but he supposed it to be, and treated it, ra- ther as the light and free suggestions of some inti- mates, than the fixed purpose of the members ; and he took his seat at the clerk's table as usual. When the nomination was to be made, he was privately requested to retire, but, still under the same impres- sion, refused ; and the person nominating him had risen to speak, and was embarrassed by the awk- wardness of his position, which the Speaker perceiv- ing, leaned forward and requested Mr. Wirt to leave his seat for a few minutes. He did so ; the nomi- nation was made, and seconded by two of the most respectable of the members, and carried without op- position — a most gratifying and uncommon evi- dence of attachment and confidence in the learning, talents, and virtues of a man, not a native of the State ; not then quite thirty years of age ; without a particle of extraneous influence, which his own cha- racter had not produced ; and in a community abounding with men eminently qualified for the sta- tion. He did not seize with avidity upon the offer. He felt the weight of the trust, and apprehension of the unfitness of his age and qualifications. He hesi- tated painfully ; and consulted his friends, and, among others, Mr. Monroe, then Governor of the State, on whose wisdom he always felt great reliance. He did, however, accept the office ; and, during the short period in which he discharged its duties, added to his reputation by a patience, industry, and learn- ing, suited to its important functions. 21 In the autumn of that year he married Miss Gam- ble — for thirty-three years the wife, and now the widow. Of her, I shall not attempt here even the outlines of a picture ; but it is clue to both to say, that seldom, in this world, have there been more con- geniality and happiness. And he has left the decla- ration, that, to her purity and intelligence, wisdom and piety, he owed a large amount, not of his enjoy- ments and happiness alone, but of his intellectual, moral, practical, and religious worth and usefulness. That sacred relationship produced, in these cases, its appropriate and beneficent effects. One of the joys of the garden, it alone, of all the relations of man, survived the ruins of the fall, to scatter light, love, and blessings amid its desolations. This marriage, the incompetency of his salary to meet the wants of a family, and, perhaps, the un- extinguished ardor for that kind of distinction which results from professional celebrity, induced him to resign the office of Chancellor, with an intention to seek for fame and fortune in the great and growing West. From this intention he was diverted by the advice and solicitation of his friends, and especially of the Governor elect of Virginia, who tendered to him a participation in the extensive practice which his commanding talents had secured at the bar, in Norfolk — an offer made in a generous spirit, and as generously declined. He, however, went to Norfolk ; and after a residence there of about three years, re- turned to Richmond, where he continued until his removal to this place, in 1817. 22 During the period of about thirteen years in Nor folk and Richmond, he was engaged in every variety of cause, civil and criminal, and under all the ju risdictions known to our State and Federal institu- tions. It is a period replete with incidents of im- portance to those who seek a knowledge of his pro- fessional character, of the qualities of his mind, and of the force and depth of his virtues. But it would be improper in me to fatigue your attention by any thing more than a hasty allusion to a few of them. His practice was, principally, but not exclusively, confined to the courts in those cities. He was some- times called to other and to distant places, where his powers, both in civil and criminal causes, were un- derstood and valued. He had to contend with the master spirits of the Virginia bar — the Tazewells, Taylors, Wickhams, Randolphs, and other clara nomina. To have been able, at his age, and with the obstacles which had impeded him, to sustain the conflict without discomfiture and disgrace, gives proof of no ordinary mind. But he emerged from it with the generous applause of his competitors, and the augmented regard of his fellow-citizens. The competition was useful to him. It required that every hour should be devoted to literary and profes- sional exertions ; and every hour new and merited confidence and respect followed those exertions. It is only in the conflict of mind with mind, that the highest intellectual powers can be developed and in- vigorated. He who would triumph greatly, must not seek inferiority with which to contend. The strug- 23 gle must be with the strong, and the preparation for that struggle incessant. The Olympic wreath must be won by unceasing discipline, and by strain- ing every nerve and muscle in the game. It was so with him. He entered the lists, not only there, but here, with bold and vigorous champions. The con- flict kept his armor always bright, and proved the good temper of the steel. His bow he permitted to be only so far unstrung as to retain its elasticity and strength ; his quiver he furnished with arrows of the purest and finest point ; and he sped them with Apol- lonian skill and grace. One of the first causes which engaged his atten- tion, after his return to Richmond, was the trial of Aaron Burr, in 1807. He was employed in it, to aid the District Attorney, by the direction of Mr. Jefferson, then President of the United States. It were useless to comment at large on that trial. It agitated both patriotic feeling and party passion. It rendered the names of those concerned in it fa- miliar at every fire-side in the nation. To Mr. Wirt it gave his full share of celebrity ; but, I believe, at the same time, did real injustice to his reputation, by the general circulation of an extract from his prin- cipal speech, which described the character and situ- ation of Blennerhasset and his wife. That extract was regarded as the work of fancy only, while its most glowing colors were justified by the evidence in the cause. But it led to the impression that law and reasoning were neglected by him, for the play of imagination, They, however, who have read with 24 attention the whole of his arguments on that occa- sion, will not hesitate to apply, as well to him as the other counsel, the commendation of the court, that " a degree of eloquence, seldom displayed on any occasion, embellished solidity of argument and depth of research." It was, also, probably true with him then, and at other times, as it is often with earnest, brilliant, and impassioned speakers. More injustice is done to them, in the reports of their speeches, than to more cool and deliberate, though inferior men. The reporter, whether skilled in the art of stenogra- phy or not, cannot follow them. His feelings be- come interested ; his pen is not rapid enough for the flight of mingled thought and fancy ; he loses self- possession and composure, and necessarily presents an enfeebled and disjointed picture of the argument, perhaps even more than of the illustration. The loss is irreparable. The address carried along the hearer with irresistible power ; but it cannot be re- covered, even by the speaker himself, after the ex- citement has passed by. The victory has been won, but the weapons are scattered, and the order of their combination and use cannot be restored. Is it not, in great part, owing to this fact, that we have now to rely on contemporary fame, and the effects which he produced, for our estimate of that great orator of nature, Patrick Henry; and that not even a single perfect specimen can be found of the most com- manding efforts of Pinkney's mind? In 1808 Mr. Wirt was elected by the people of Richmond a member of the House of Delegates, 25 without the canvass winch is usual in that {State — an unsolicited tribute by his fellow-citizens, and the only occasion, through life, on which he permitted himself to be a candidate for the popular vote, ex- cept at the last presidential election. While in the Assembly, as a member of a special committee on the foreign relations of the country, and the mea- sures of the general administration, he wrote a report defensive of those measures. It was strong, impar- tial, indignant at the injuries inflicted by France and England, and in all respects worthy of the times, the occasion, and the man. In July of that year he prepared an address to the people of that State, on behalf of the Manufac- turing Association of Virginia, which reviewed the acts of the belligerents, exhibited their operation on our commerce and other interests ; urged the pro- priety of fostering domestic manufactures ; and in- sisted that the country was prepared, by its capital and enterprise, to accomplish it successfully. He also addressed three letters, signed " One of the People," to those members of Congress who had protested against the nomination of Mr. Madison for the presidency. They were written with a polish and force of style seldom found in the news- paper essays of this country ; and they bear an em- phatic testimony to the services and merits of Mr. Madison. They were generally published through the nation, and are said to have produced great effect, not only on those to whom they were ad- dressed, but on popular opinion. Of the political 26 opinions contained in all these papers, it is not my purpose to speak. They are mentioned as evi- dences of his style of composition ; of the interest which he took in the concerns of the country ; and of that industry which was not confined to profes- sional occupation alone. But there is other and stronger evidence on these points. In 1803 he wrote the letters of the British Spy; in 1312 those of the Old Bachelor; and in September, 1817, published the Life of Patrick Henry. The two former were newspaper essays, which have been collected into volumes, and have been sufficiently popular to pass, the one through three, the other through ten editions. The severity of criticism ought not to be applied to the style or matter of these works, without recollecting the cir- cumstances under which they were produced. They were essays intended to appear in the ephemeral journals of the day, and expected to perish with them. They were the results of a few leisure hours stolen from the laborious pursuits of his profession. They were not subjected to the lima labor et mora. When these facts are considered, they may defy the severity of criticism, and claim equality with any which have been produced under similar circum- stances. They add a wreath to his fame, which any jurist might desire to have bound around his own brow. He commenced one of them, it is said, to repel the rude insolence of foreign travellers and critics upon our country. But he had a higher aim — to 27 turn those very strictures to our own profit ; to prune away our faults, and thus wipe off the reproaches which had been cast upon us ; to increase the love of literature ; to benefit the manners and morals of society, and to hold out to the young fit objects of pursuit. He designed to draw a picture of living manners, and he has given one, new, original, and entertaining. He went into what, in his own lan- guage, "was a vast field covered with a heavy har- vest, which no sickle had entered," and which, some other has remarked, no reaper of equal skill has since entered. All his sketches, whether of persons or manners, bear evidence of close observation. He endeavored to bring his lectures home to the bo- soms of his readers ; but not in the mode of Aristo- phanes, who hoisted his philosopher to the clouds in a basket, thence to lecture his pupils below ; nor like Villiers, who exhibited the living general and the admired poet in farce ; or, like Foote, who en- tertained the public with the natural defects of the impassioned minister of the gospel, and assumed the dress and mimicked the manners of those he satir- ized and burlesqued ; but, like Addison, he pre- sented a delightful, moral, literary work, drawn from living manners, with the interest of fiction, and the illustration and force of moral truth. At this period of his life, and up to the time when he received the appointment of Attorney General, I believe the prevalent impression, out of the circle of his practice, was, that he possessed rather showy than solid talent and acquirement — more of belles 28 lettres and classical, than abstruse legal learning. Such was my own impression; but when I expressed it to a most competent judge, intimately acquainted with him, and the witness of many of his arguments, he replied, " Your estimate is wrong. His true cha- racter is that of a laborious, profound lawyer, more conversant with the black letter than even with works of taste, poetry, and fiction." He lived long enough to correct the false opinion which the public had formed of his intellect and acquirements. Their error had resulted from some of his lighter produc- tions having been generally read, while there was comparatively an entire ignorance of the vigor and learning which he brought to the discussion of his causes. They had seen his 4th of July oration ; a sketch of his speech in the singular case of Shan- non ; the letters of the British Spy and Old Bache- lor ; and parts of one of his speeches in the trial of Burr, and some other fugitive pieces ; and they in- accurately inferred that the mind which produced them, in the midst of a professional career, must have tendencies and occupations which would pre- vent it from being stored with the more dry, and, to most men, tedious doctrines of the law books ; and that his excelled in the ornamental, rather than the severe and cogent properties of oratory. The in- ference was, in part, correct. The bias was strong; but imagination, taste, and fancy, were not the rul- ing powers of his mind. They held, even then, but a divided empire ; and, as he advanced in life, it be- came more and more apparent that masculine judg- 29 ment, and close, logical, and lucid argument, were his decisive characteristics. When Mr. Jefferson retired from the presidency in 1809, he felt a very natural and earnest solicitude for the future course of the Government, and the success of those who were to succeed him ; and he desired to strengthen the hands of those to whom the destinies of the country were, for the time, to be committed. With these feelings, he urged Mr. Wirt to enter on a career of political distinction, and held up before him confident calculations of success. Mr. Wirt did not perceive that duty to the country re- quired it. He was not dazzled by the prospect, and would not be withdrawn from literary and pro- fessional pursuits; and he had his reward in a calmer life, a less assaulted reputation, and higher renown for intellectual vigor. The example de- serves at least the sober thought of the young men of the country. They who have, from choice, or the apparent necessities of their situation, ventured on another voyage, may tell them of dangers, and storms, and losses, and shipwrecks, to which that voyage is liable, and that it is wise to repress the propensity to venture upon it for the gratification of selfish ambition alone. When their country calls, they have, and ought to seek no alternative. She claims the homage of their hearts. Their services are her due. On her altar private comfort, per- sonal interests, even fame and life, are to be laid, as offerings, not of constraint, but of devotion. 30 In 1816 an opportunity occurred for Mr. Madison to give to Mr. Wirt an expression of his regard, in the sphere which he had chosen for himself ; and he was appointed District Attorney of the United States for Virginia. In the following year, at the age of forty-five, he received from Mr. Monroe, one of his earliest friends, the appointment of Attorney General of the United States ; and with the kind of preparation which has been detailed, and the reputation which I have en- deavored fairly to estimate, he accepted the appoint- ment, and moved to this city — to the vicinity of his native home, from which he had been so long sepa- rated. The change which had been effected in him- self and the surrounding country must, to a mind and memory like his, have been full of sensibility, even to overflowing. He left a family circle ; he found a closed home and scattered relatives. He left his little village in the animation of prosperity ; he found it palsied and sunken. But, in contrast of these, he went a pennyless orphan, with no human hand to protect and guide him ; he returned himself the guardian of others, and the dispenser of opinions which were to affect the rights and interests of thou- sands. He went unknown and with a name untold ; he returned with that name upon the lips of millions. He left the hills and valleys which surround us, and over which his boyhood had sported, occupied by few inhabitants, and sprinkled here and there with the results of human labor and industry ; he found them covered with a population of ten thousand 31 souls, and on their heights the magnificent edifices where a nation's power and sovereignty were repre- sented, and a nation's agents assembled to guard her interests. He left his native State a feeble and struggling member of an inefficient and almost pow- erless confederacy ; he found it the thriving and prosperous equal and constituent of a Government — strong, because the emanation of a people's power, sustained by a people's love, and acting with bene- ficent influence on a whole people's prosperity — holding out to other nations a united sovereignty, which demanded and enforced respect and justice — designated by its flag, whose combined stripes are not pale, nor its stars dim ; and bearing aloft, high enough to be seen by the scattered and oppressed millions of the human family, the beacon lights of liberty and law — " hope of the fettered slave, and glory of the free." In such a Government he was to bear an import- ant part. The station which he was to occupy was difficult enough to try the strongest powers and purest virtues ; and, when filled with talent and learning, efficient in producing a regular and safe administra- tion of the laws. The office of Attorney General for the United States was created, and its duties defined, by the 36th section of the judiciary act of 1789; and had been held in succession by Randolph, Bradford, Lee, Lin- coln, Smith, Breckenridge, Rodney, Pinkney, and Rush. The duties are, " to prosecute and conduct all suits in the Supreme Court, in which the United 32 States are concerned ; and to give advice and opm ion upon questions of law, when required by the President Of the United States, or when requested by the heads of any of the Departments, touching any matters that may concern their Departments." He is thus constituted the legal adviser of the ex- ecutive branch of the Government — the counsellor of the nation in the execution of the laws. He is, at the same time, and has so been from the com- mencement of the Government, a member of the confidential council or cabinet of the President ; and is thus compelled, not only to discharge duties ap- propriately professional, but to mingle in the delibe- rations and express opinions upon those general questions and interests which spring out of the action of each of the Departments, and of the whole com- bined, which affect the internal prosperity and ex- ternal relations of the nation. He must, therefore, be not only a good lawyer, but a safe statesman. There is a peculiarity in the responsibility of this officer, which requires the exercise of more than common care in his selection. He does not deal with the ordinary routine of business, which inferior intelligence and system can manage ; but when doubts and difficulties intervene upon the powers conferred by law, or the rights intended to be secur- ed, the appeal is made to him. His labors are al- ways connected with perplexing subjects ; and his opinions, as well as his arguments in court, relate to every variety of questions which can arise under our institutions, or from our connexions with the com- 33 merce and Governments of the world. Hie labor, hoc opus. His opinions, too, are official ; not merely persuasive upon the judgments of other officers, but, so far as the construction of the law is concerned, re- garded as binding ; and, if error be committed, the responsibility is, in a great degree, taken from them, and cast upon him — a responsibility by no means light, to a sensitive and well organized mind. The character and action of this office, and the mode of performing its duties, were essentially changed by Mr. Wirt, Before his time, those who held it, although the confidential counsellors of the President and legal advisers of the departments, did not reside constantly at the seat of Government, except his immediate predecessor, who lived here at the time of his appointment. Mr. Wirt removed with his family, and continued here throughout his whole period of eleven years and four months, more than twice the time during which the office was held by any other ; and, by his residence here, the labors of his office were much more than doubled. In one respect he contracted the action of the office, or rather, he refused to be led beyond the limits prescribed by law ; and the incident not only furnishes a guide to his principles of action, but fixed a salutary boundary for the Legislature, in relation to his department. In a few instances, (I believe they were but few,) the Attorney General had been called on, either by Congress or by committees, for opinions in matters which were before Congress. His residence here was calculated to increase such 5 34 calls. In the spring of 1817 the House made an order to refer to the Attorney General sundry docu- ments in relation to the accounts of an officer during the late war. He found these papers, in his office, in the succeeding fall ; and in December made a re- port, in which he expressed an opinion on the legal liability of the party in the supposed case, but alto- gether declined giving an opinion upon the merits, or even considering the facts. On the 28th of January, 1820, the House referred to him the petition of Jo- seph Wheaton, and accompanying documents, with the report of the Committee of Claims. Five days afterwards he returned the papers to the House, with a letter, in which he explained his views of his official duties under the law, which he recited and discussed ; declared that the service required of him was extra-official ; and that he should violate his sense of his oath if he was instrumental in enlarging the sphere of his official duties, among which was not that of being the legal counsellor of the House of Representatives. He adds: " It would be incal- " culably dangerous to permit an officer to act, under " color of his office, beyond the pale of the law. " The precedent is not less dangerous, on account " of the purity of the motives in which it originates. " The maxim is as old, at least, as republican Rome, " that omnia mala exempla ex bonis orta sunt. " It gives me more pain to be thus obliged to de- " cline, than it would give me trouble to make the " report ; but, in a conflict between my wishes and "my sense of duty, there ought to be no question 35 ^ which I should obey." The practice since has been in conformity with the views thus expressed ; not only in relation to Congress, but other officers. He had, previous to this time, in the year succeed- ing his appointment, addressed a letter to the chair- man of the committee of the House, which is still, I believe, on tile, calling attention to the state of the office, and requesting a remedy for certain defects, which he regarded as injurious to the public inter- ests. The remedy was not then applied. One of his requests was, that means might be provided for furnishing a record of the proceedings of the office. This he had already commenced without aid. He had found no opinions of his predecessors, no papers, no notes, to inform him what had been done by them ; or the construction put on the numerous laws which had been subject to question and debate. This he regarded as an unfit state of things, in an office whose sphere of action was so wide ; whose decisions are of such extensive and unremitting practical effect ; and where consistency and uni- formity should prevail. He, therefore, determined to make a regular record of every official opinion and letter written by him ; to file the papers and do- cuments on which they were formed, with corre- sponding references, to give facility in their future examination. This record bears date on 12th of No- vember, 1817, the day he entered on the duties of his office ; and the last recorded opinion is on the 17th of January, 1829, though some of the letters are of a later date. They fill two large volumes and 36 nearly half of a third, besides a letter book ; and contain, I doubt not, more opinions and letters than were written by all his predecessors, from the estab- lishment of the Government. They amount to more than one for every week that he held the office ; and were prepared with care, elaboration, and thorough investigation of facts and law. One of them, which had been given as advice to President Monroe, was subsequently, upon a call, sent to the Senate, and fills nearly fifty pages of congressional printing. They all relate to matters of importance in the construction of the laws ; many of them to the most difficult and interesting subjects of municipal and constitutional law, as well as the law of nations, which occurred during three presidential terms. They will prevent much uncertainty in that office hereafter ; afford one of the best collections of materials for writing the legal and constitutional his- tory of our country ; and remain a proud monument of his industry, learning, and talents. It is difficult to state the precise number of causes in the Supreme Court, in which the United States were concerned, because they often have an interest, though not a party on the record ; but the number on the docket, for several years past, which he had to prepare, do not, I believe, average less than forty, and those argued and disposed of not less than twenty-five at each term. These causes were usually of magnitude, and always brought him in conflict with minds of the highest order. That court is the very battle ground of intellect. In every cause 37 he was thoroughly and minutely prepared ; its slight- est incidents, every question of law, applicable to it, were examined upon principle and authority ; and to every cause in which he represented the Govern- ment he did entire justice. The rights of the United States were most fully and amply guarded by him. It will be recollected by all whom I address, that, in the year 1826, the fourth of July was, in the dispen- sations of Providence, consecrated anew by the death of Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams ; an event which has since been rendered more memorable and im- pressive by the death of Mr. Monroe, on the same great anniversary. The citizens of Washington, de- siring to give appropriate expression to their feelings on that occasion, selected Mr. Wirt to deliver an address. It was delivered in this hall, to an im- mense multitude of hearers; and the public judgment has assigned to it a place among the most masterly efforts which the literature and eloquence of our country have produced. In the winter of 1822, when the court was in ses- sion, his vigorous constitution received a sudden and violent shock, which had the appearance, and some symptoms, of an apoplectic kind ; and he did not, during the remainder of his official term, nor, indeed, during his life, entirely recover from its effects. It was, probably, the result of a labor too intense and unremitted for the human body to bear ; and would have induced any other man, with whom I have been acquainted, to relax ; but it did not produce this effect on him. To the last moment of his life, dis- 38 ease and impaired health seemed neither to weaken the vigor of his intellect, to repress the ardor of his feelings, nor to enfeeble his exertions. He lived in one perpetual struggle, and died almost in the very act of conflict. On the 3d March, 1829, he resigned his situation as Attorney General, under circumstan- ces known to all. It was during the sitting of the Supreme Court ; and there were, several causes on the docket in which the United States were inter- ested, and which his successor might not be pre- pared to discuss, so as to protect their rights. He, therefore, in the most courteous and generous spirit, tendered to him any aid in his power, either of ad- vice or argument. The offer was not, I believe, accepted. Mr. Wirt carried out of that office a reputation augmented, wide spread, most splendid. His course in it had been fearless and patriotic ; governed al- ways by the candor, honor, truth, and justice which become an Attorney General for the United States. He pressed the claims of the Government with befit- ting earnestness ; but never, knowingly, passed the line which law and truth designated. He felt that the just Government of a free country can have no interest in the wrongs of its citizens ; no profit from injustice ; no glory from oppression. Retirement from office did not diminish the re- spect of his country, or his professional reputation. He removed to the capital of his native State, and continued a practice both extensive and lucrative. His aid was sought by individuals ; by corporations, 39 in every part of the Union ; by States ; and even by the Government itself, in causes of large importance. On one or more occasions he was called to Phila- delphia, New York, and Boston. It was natural that his reputation should there be put to a severe trial. He would necessarily be met by the strong- est, and they sustained in their efforts by the coun- tenance of admiring friends. Report may well be credited when she declares that those trials were giant struggles of giant intellects. They attracted the taste, the fashion, the learning, and the wisdom of those cities ; and the award, while it sustained the merited distinction of his antagonists, gave as- surance that his own fame was just. It would be a vain and hopeless effort in me to attempt the designation of those cases, in which his learning as a jurist, and his eloquence as an advo- cate, were best displayed. Each successive effort, where the cause demanded it, seemed to surpass its predecessor ; but, among them, we may refer to the steamboat cause, to the Cherokee case, and to the impeachment of Judge Peck, as furnishing speci- mens of all the properties which adorn the jurist and advocate — inferior to none which have ever been ex- hibited at the American or British bar. In July, 1830, at the request of one of the literary societies, he delivered an address to the students of Rutgers' College, New Jersey ; and in October of that year, another to the people of Baltimore, at the celebration occasioned by the recent revolution in France. These addresses afford examples of his 40 mature style of composition, sentiments, and feel- ings. In 1832 he was nominated and supported as a candidate for the Presidency. We are too near the time of that event, and it was too closely connected with the excitements of the day, for me, here, to comment on that nomination and its acceptance. He has taken care to record, for future use, every thing which occurred on that occasion ; and it will be the duty of his biographer to give it to the world. It is my part only to say, that the selection, under the circumstances, is an evidence of his imposing character in the country ; and that it was justified by all the high properties which can give honor and dignity to that elevated station. I have thus, brethren of the bar, attempted a sketch of the life of our departed brother. It has been hastily drawn, and, I fear, tedious in the repe- tition. My object has been, in the incidents of his life, to discover and exhibit the traits of his profes- sional character and virtues. Will you bear with me while I further allude to a few of the character- istics of his mind and heart, and his qualities as a man and orator, as drawn from this history and from observation? They influenced his professional cha- racter, and formed a part of it. I mean to attempt no general portrait or full-length likeness. A dif- ferent pencil would be required to combine the fea- tures, and give the living expression. His manly, graceful, and elegant person ; his pow- erful, clear, musical voice, are well remembered by 41 you all. His countenance exhibited a happy combi- nation of intellect and sensibility ; broad and open., yet delicate, cheerful, and benignant ; giving, per- haps, at first view, more the impression of his gen- erous and benevolent heart, than of his strong mind and lofty genius. The first impulse was to love ; the second, to admire ; the third, to revere and vene- rate its possessor. His manners were a singular union of artless sim- plicity, and polished elegance and dignity. In the private and social circle his conversation always breathed a pure and gentle spirit, while it was ani- mated, judicious, and instructive ; not wasted in idle professions, but shedding the active influence of his own learning and wisdom on those around him. There his genius often showed itself, not merely un- fettered, but luxuriant in its sports and movements — abundant in stores of classical and general read- ing. His benevolence never permitted his keen and Attic wit to give pain ; his fancy played in innocent gambols, with amusing and animated variety ; or shot its flight with rapid and exalted wing, dropping the balm of peace as well as joy ; so cheerful and gay, that it " lent a new spring to the pulse of the heart." In intercourse with the world, his manners had a large share of dignity and firmness ; never of- fensive, never sycophantic; a just medium, and equal- ly opposed both to that confident self-esteem which justly gives offence, and that cringing suppleness which as justly loses respect. They were the united result of native ease and grace ; pure and refined 42 sentiment; self-respect, and tender regard for the feelings of others. They were also, without doubt, in some degree, affected by his just estimate of female character and virtues, and enjoyment of female society. He has declared that " the genuine virtue and refinement of any man might be safely estimat- ed by the delicacy with which he regards the purer and softer sex ; and, that irreverence to them was evidence that the brain was obscured by the meanest pride, or the heart corrupted by the grossest vice." No one felt more deeply the sympathy, respect, and protection which a generous and ennobled nature is always ready to extend to the gentleness and sen- sibility of virtuous woman ; to the disinterested gen- erosity and enthusiastic love, which makes her forget her own ease in the promotion of ours ; and, in spite of constitutional feebleness and delicacy, enables her to defy climate and toil, while she believes that she can advance the convenience and happiness of the lord of her affections. He, at least, did not make a poor and base return. His pen loved to portray her virlues, and his heart delighted in elevating her character and cultivating her intellect. In his home, his manners assumed their most exquisite form — combining all the fondness and affection of the father, all the tenderness and assiduity of the husband, with all the cheerfulness and warmth of the beloved com- panion. He had one peculiarity, in his intercourse with the young, of more marked excellence than I have ever seen in anv other man. He loved them with nrdor, 43 and joined in their conversations and amusements with infantile ease and simplicity, until they forgot his age, and opened their feelings before him, as if he were their playmate. Yet they never lost their veneration, and respect, and love for him ; and, with- out their perceiving it, he so guided their amuse- ments and remarks, as to leave some strong senti- ment, some useful truth, fastened in the right place in their hearts. I never knew him leave a child, even after a short conversation, without having pro- duced in the child affection for himself, some eleva- tion of feeling, some well directed thought and pur- pose. You can all estimate his family circle from this statement, better than I can describe it. No parent ever felt there a purer rapture or a prouder triumph. Had he, like the Teacher of Crotona, pre- ferred to his profession the instruction of youth, and the formation of the future patriots, and orators, and statesmen of his country, he would, like that Teacher, have conferred lasting blessings, and won immortality. In his instance, the controlling qualities of the mind — memory, imagination, and judgment — were strong. He had a keen and intuitive perception of fact, character, and the beauties of nature ; and his memory, quick and tenacious, retained his observa- tions with the freshness of the moment when they were made.. It gave him no trouble to recall them, whenever they were needed, in conversation or pub- lic debate. His imagination was luxuriant but not extravagant ; perhaps too rich in resources, and 44 too active, in early life, for the staid and sober concatenation of precise argument ; but study and labor brought it to the just position which it ought to occupy, as the handmaid of reason. His judg- ment was quick, clear, and accurate ; his power of reasoning comprehensive, yet close ; embracing, without confusion, all those matters which justly affect the decision, and arranging them in their re- lative order of weight and force. These properties combined, gave unusual energy and power to the argument which he presented, whether in public or private discourse. His reading was extensive. He visited every haunt of genius, and travelled over every region where science had shot its rays. Over its whole empire he had ranged with irrepressible ardor ; ex- amined its almost boundless extent ; and penetrated the mystery and obscurity in which many parts of it lie covered and involved to less penetrating eyes. He read much upon the philosophy of the mind, as he did upon the philosophy of the law. The Bridgewater Treatises and corresponding topics were among his last studies. Astronomy, with the phenomena of nature connected with it, which are so apt to excite the curiosity and speculation of man- kind, were with him a favorite theme, both of study and conversation. With poetry and other departments of taste he was familiar ; and his memory retained, with accuracy, the finest passages in works both ancient and modern. Shakspeare and Cicero were, with him, 45 not amusement alone, but study ; and all their illus- trations were the commonplaces of his mind. His labor was without limit. I know of but one individual (Pinkney) who in this respect equaled him. They both improved steadily and rapidly, to the last moment, as advocates, counsellors, and scholars ; ex- hibiting to the young aspirant after fame the true and only road to eminence ; and proving, to demonstration, the error of the common opinion, that the mind attains its usefulness, and vigor, and abundance, before the age of forty or forty-five; and that the struggle afterwards is to maintain its strength and acquirements, and to use them for the individual and public benefit. Their progress in intellectual wealth, and its active use, was at no period more rapid than the last fifteen years of their lives. On few points were Mr. Wirt's habits of labor more useful to him than in the correction of his style of wri- ting and speaking. He has been accused of being too florid in style, too ornamented in diction, and approach- ing that which Cicero calls Asiatic, and condemns. The criticism was just, to some extent, when applied to his earlier productions ; but if his professional arguments, and the later efforts of his pen — those, for example, to which I have referred — be examined, it will be found that he was able to correct his error, and that his neatly condensed and chastely ornate style may be added as another proof of his steady advancement — another merit worthy of imitation. His principles of conduct were those of punctilious honor, refined and guarded by moral and religious 4b sentiment. He did not give, and was not willing to receive offence. Sensitive himself to the slightest impeachment, he avoided, upon principle, all impu- tation upon others, which was not justified by the clearest evidence. He was open to the approaches of civility and the courtesies of social intercourse, and willing to receive advances from all ; a shrewd observer of character, with an almost intuitive per- ception of the appropriate feelings, thoughts, and language of every situation. Yet, it sometimes hap- pened that he had to recall confidence and the praises bestowed in advance. This arose, not from an inability to inspect and judge deeply, nor from want of knowledge of human nature, or the motives, springs, and purposes of human action; but from the generosity of his whole temperament, which abstain- ed from condemnation in advance, and made him yield to appearances, in the hope that subsequent experience would justify the adventure. But he never made intimate friends incautiously. Those whom he chose, through his whole life, were among the sober, the sedate, and the diligent. The gay and the dissipated were, at some periods, his companions, but never his friends. His standard was too high for such. He regarded friendship as necessary to our happiness and our virtues. His heart was open to its brightening countenance and its inspiring sa- lute. He insisted that we all require its offices, not only to console us in adversity, and rejoice with us in prosperity, but to chastise our immoralities, and correct them in their source ; to watch over our manners with benignant solicitude, and admonish us without reserve. These offices he received kindly, and ministered freely. He possessed strict and scrupulous integrity, en- thusiastic warmth and bravery of spirit, and that moral and civic courage which is the most uncom- mon, most difficult of attainment, and most valuable and commanding of all the qualities which dignify and adorn the man and the citizen ; without which the public agent is a public curse. With such personal advantages, manners, learn- ing, powers of intellect, principles of conduct, and severe labor, it could not be that Mr. Wirt should have fallen short of the highest elevation in the pro- fession of the law. They are the component parts, the necessary constituents of real greatness, in that profession — a profession which ought not to corrupt the heart, or narrow the understanding, because su- periority in it is the first distinction in a free State. When strongly united and combined, these proper- ties form the very beau ideal of a great American constitutional lawyer. His eminence did not create hatred, or envy, or jealousy. His rivals regarded him as a competitor worthy of their powers, and of the field on which they contended ; one who never intentionally wound- ed their feelings ; never, if successful, manifested the self-complacency of triumph ; never, when defeated, detracted from their merits. They had no disposi- tion to be at enmity with him. If they had, they would have found themselves in the predicament 48 which Dr. Johnson described, when lie said of Sir Joshua Reynolds that he was one of those men with whom, if a person desired to quarrel, he would have been most at a loss how to abuse. His inferiors and juniors loved and respected him, for he was always ready to treat them as equals ; al- ways prompt, without the appearance of condescen- sion, to afford them counsel, advice, and assistance. The Judges also regarded him with attachment and respect ; and have given feeling testimony to his worth and ability. His manner in forensic argument was earnest, and often impassioned. With a voice clear, full, sonorous, articulate, and flexible ; modified as feel- ing or argument required, regulated so that it did not escape his control, into monotony or harshness ; with an expression of countenance sincere and ani- mated 5 gestures, natural, easy, and forcible ; an attitude, graceful and dignified ; he was always ar- dent and zealous. It was the combination of these particulars which Demosthenes denominated action ; and they constituted the action of Mr. Wirt. He understood a truth, not always felt to be a truth, that arguments addressed to the understanding require an impassioned manner, as well as appeals to the passions. It is necessary to produce a conviction that the speaker feels that he is right ; to command confidence in his argument and in his feelings ; to make a lodgement in the affections, and drive home to the judgments and hearts of hearers the warm appeal, the cogent reasoning, the strong conclu 49 sions, and the deep convictions of the orator. The earnestness of Wirt appeared in his brow, his voice, his gestures ; and yet his unwavering lip, clear and firm enunciation, distinct strokes of thought, con- nected movement of the mind, proved that, though ardent, he was collected ; though vehement, pro- found ; though in the excitement of feeling, temper- ate, even to smoothness. His earnestness, at no time, made him overlook the respect due to the court, and to the feelings and rights of his adversary. There is here a narrow and almost imperceptible line, which is to be trodden by the practitioner. It lies between the vigilant attention and ardent prosecution of the client's rights on the one side ; and proper respect for, and sub- mission to the court, and regard for the feelings of the opponent, on the other. It is a point, in our practice, less successfully reached than any other. It can only be attained by him who possesses a clear, unclouded judgment, decisive control over his own feelings and movements, and perfect sensibility to the rights and feelings of others. It is not unjust to my professional brethren to say, that Mr. Wirt reached that point more successfully, and walked upon this narrow line with more unerring certainty, than any man with whose professional course I am intimately acquainted. His arguments usually embraced all of the law which was requisite for a decision. I do not assert that he presented clearer views of the law, nor seized and exhibited the strong points of a cause with 7 50 greater force tlian some others. It was not so ; he had his equals, if not his masters, in that respect. But while few could equal his potency in this, his peculiar merit lay in a lucid order — in that power of combination and arrangement, which collected, as he progressed, every topic of fact, of argument, of illustration; arranged them without the slightest con- fusion, and brought their combined weight to bear upon the conclusion at which he aimed ; and, like the mountain torrent which had gathered up the rivulets in its course, he swept the feelings and judgment along with mighty power. His mind embraced the whole of every controversy in which he was engaged, and suggested every consideration which ought to bear on its decision, even to the remotest conse- quences ; and his comprehensive thought found illus- trations and analogies in universal reason and ab- stract truth, as well as in the moral sublime of nature and feeling. Many others reason clearly and co- gently ; many declaim splendidly and pathetically ; but few are great in both departments. In him, rhetoric and logic were combined in high perfection. He reasoned with such Herculean force, as rendered resistance always difficult ; he declaimed in such manner, that the overwhelmed hearer was often car- ried unresistingly to his conclusions. And he had the immense advantage of moral weight of character to aid him. The hearer felt that no sordid syco- phant, no vicious intriguer, no guilty mind, ad- dressed him ; but that the great orator was also the good man. 51 I mean, on this topic, to draw no comparisons with the past or the present ; but I protest against the promulgation of the opinion, that modern times, and especially this land of light and liberty, must be humbled in comparison with other nations and other times. Give to American orators (and Wirt was among them) " the same themes, the same surround- ing circumstances, and they will stir the blood as freely ; agitate the heart as deeply ; control the will and lead the judgment as triumphantly ; rival Tully, in unveiling a conspiracy ; and the speaker of Athens, in drawing a circle round his beloved city, and hold ing a victorious tyrant at bay." The theatre on which Wirt appeared, in the latter part of his life, was one cause of his splendid repu- tation. The tribunal which he addressed demanded the best efforts of the human mind, in argument. It was the concentrated judicial power of a mighty Union of free States. It stands the pride and the boast of legal science. Its learning, integrity, and firmness, have been equal to its magnificent jurisdic- tion. It is the Areopagus of a great nation ; the Amphyctionic assembly of confederated powers; the Aulic council of a combined empire ; and on its de- cisions, past and future, hang more of the destinies of free institutions and the liberties of the world, than upon any other tribunal upon earth. My brethren, if I have rightly exhibited the cha- racter and virtues of Mr. Wirt, may I not declare, that, as he inscribed the life of Patrick Henry to the young men of Virginia, to increase their virtues and 52 public spirit, so his own life should be dedicated to the young men of the nation ; to those who are rising, the hopes of our profession ; to all the young, who are to form the nation ; who have before them a destiny of glorious and increasing brightness, but on whom will rest a fearful responsibility — fearful, from the felicity and honor which Providence has bestowed, and which they must sustain, protect, and defend; fearful in its account to God and the world of man. But, brethren of the bar, I should be untrue to his memory, unfaithful to you and to my own feelings, if I closed this notice of his character and virtues without a distinct testimony, in relation to another and nobler trait of character — his attribute in health, his consolation in death. William Wirt was a de- vout Christian. In his infant years he received instruction, which produced a favorable bias towards religious truth, from his aunt, under whose care he was after the death of his mother. She was a woman of great firmness, yet of equal sensibility ; and often read, with devotional voice and feeling, several pious books, and especially the old family bible ; the ap- pearance of which, even to the clasps and binding, was held in remembrance by him. At about eight years old, an incident occurred, simple in its facts, yet sublime in the moral meaning and tendency ; and which he related as producing an abiding effect upon his feelings. A storm arose, in which the mingled wind and rain, and thunder and lightning, were ter- rific to the stoutest — giving awful evidence of the 53 power of Him who wields and controls them. In the midst of its violence, the lightning struck and rent a large tree before the door, and sent one of its branches into the house. The inmates were stupified, and trembled, and sought impotent refuge in the dark- est part of the room. His aunt calmly took down her bible, and, placing it upon the table, read, in an au- dible and composed voice, some of its sublime pas- sages ; thus deriving courage and support from the words of Him who was speaking in the tempest. This simple act of piety, and the confidence which it exhibited, produced a deep impression on the ob- servant boy ; and was recurred to as evidence of the power and dignity of faith in the humblest Chris- tian. As he advanced further in life, there was a period when he had strong convictions upon the subject ; but they were not permanent. He was thrown into society where infidel works were often read, and in which it was not unfashionable at that day to give utterance to that scepticism which had been import- ed from the region where the Goddess of Reason was worshipped, and where the unnatural alliance between infidelity and liberty had been consum- mated. Misled, for a time, the mind of William Wirt doubted the authenticity of the sacred volume. But he was not of a temper, on this or any other subject, to rely long upon the opinion of others, nor to rest satisfied with doubts which his own efforts could confirm or remove ; and this was especially true in regard to a point of infinite magnitude, af- 54 fecting all his relations and duties, present and future. He determined, therefore, to bring his mind to the investigation ; and, after full examination, to adopt the conclusions to which it should lead him. Without neglecting his professional engagements, he discharged this office ; and the result may be re- garded as a triumph to Christians' every where ; for where is the mind more competent to the task; pos- sessing larger views of all the relations of man to man ; better knowledge of the aids which science and learning afford ; stronger powers of investigation; better acquaintance with the principles by which error is to be detected, and truth established ; or governed by more candor and sincerity! Tell me in whom of all those that have disputed the Chris- tian doctrine? T have neither known nor read of any such. Mr. Wirt examined, with care, the evidences of Christianity, both internal and external. He read, with close attention, Butler, Addison, Watson, Home, Keith, Campbell, Faber, and others. He examined also every doubt suggested by the sceptic ; every argument and dogma which the infidel had uttered, and which fell under his notice. He pushed the inquiry until he found the doubt dissipated, and the argument answered. He literally studied Hobbes, Voltaire, Hume, Paine, Bolingbroke, and the whole host who have been marshaled against the Christian cause ; and the result was, deep conviction, unhesi- tating, assured reliance on its authenticity and truth. 55 liut ho did not stop at the assent of tlio under- standing. Ho openly professed his belief, and was enabled to lay all his talents and learning, with deep humility, before the cross of Calvary. He was not ashamed of the gospel of Christ. Before the sceptic shall sneer, or the infidel rail, at the annunciation of this fact, let him bring to the investigation of the same great and leading truths the same labor, skill, talent, learning, knowledge of the rules and principles of evidence, the same candor and integrity of purpose. These opinions and feelings of Mr. Wirt could not fail to influence his professional character and vir- tues ; and the effect upon them must be, to the mem- bers of the bar and to others, a subject of interest and solicitude. An opinion has prevailed, that deep sensibility to religious truths, and an open profes- sion, were calculated to weaken the power and effi- ciency of the practitioner. It was not so with him. In proportion to his investigations, he acquired addi- tional elevation of purpose, renewed efforts, bolder and stronger views of duty ; and, by his active virtue, preached, sublimely, the doctrines which he profess- ed. It is not too much to allege that his growth in power and reputation was in proportion to the clear- ness and enlargement of his views, in regard to the great questions which act upon all the personal and relative duties of man, and give authority and sanc- tion to all the laws and obligations of society. At no period of his life was he more faithful to the in- 56 terests of his clients, more patient in the investiga- tions of his causes, more forcible in argument and illustration, or more zealous in all the duties of his calling. He did not become an ascetic nor a fanatic. And why should it be otherwise? He has said that the true office of religion is to exalt our reason, en- large and sublimate our affections ; and, in a letter written in 1833, he contests the notion to which 1 have referred with earnestness and demonstration. It is an interesting fact, that his last effort at com- position, which bears date on the 6th January last, immediately before he left home to attend the Su- preme Court, was upon a religious subject. The work of Mr. Rennell's Christian Advocate, in the University of Cambridge, on the sceptical opinions propounded by some eminent physiologists of France, and adopted and echoed by those of England, was about to be republished in this country ; and he was requested to prepare a preface. The attempt, in his hands, swelled to a long essay. In it, the doctrine of Bichat, that " organization of itself constitutes the ichole of life;" and that of Lawrence, that "medullary matter thinks," are contested with wit, ridicule, and argument, as but a new form for the old notions of the materialists of the last century — leading to the unavoidable conclusion that we are a mere mass of organized matter ; that there is no necessity for a vital principle to impel and sustain our organization ; no moral responsibility in man for any act to which his passions may urge him ; no necessity for an in- 57 telligent spirit, and no function for it to perform. And he insists upon the conclusion, that, "if the Chris- tian opinion be superstition, it is one which ennobles and exalts us, by disposing us to aspire to the imita- tion of angelic natures, and giving us the hope of immortality ; theirs is a superstition which levels them, in life and in death, with the beasts that perish. Our belief is one which tends to the order and peace of society ; to the promotion of decency, purity, be- nevolence, and all the kind charities and affections of life ; theirs is the one which transformed, for a time, the most refined and courteous people of Eu- rope into a nation of unchained, ferocious bedlam- ites ; their moral sense extinguished, and all the profligate passions of their nature let loose, with a phrensy, ungovernable, irresistible, and terrific." If his biography shall be written, and his writings collected, this short but able work will merit publi- cation and notice. The last acts of Mr. Wirt, on the day when he was seized with his fatal illness, were those of pri- vate and public devotion. It was the Sabbath. He was bowed down by no fears of approaching disso- lution, to excite the anxious expression of his feel- ings. Within the twenty-four hours preceding, he declared to me, that he felt all the firmness of re-as- sured health, and the anticipation of days which did not yet seem to be numbered. In this assurance, in private, with humble penitence and holy ardor, he commended himself, and those he loved, to the keep- ing of covenanted Grace and Mercy ; and asked, fer- vently, for the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom. And in public, in this hall, surrounded by the evi- dences of human power, and the allurements of hu- man ambition, his tears testified his sensibility, while the preacher, with apostolic eloquence, illustrated the declaration: " We preach Christ crucified ; unto the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks fool- ishness ; but unto them which are called, Christ, the power of God, and the wisdom of God." He died as a Christian ought to die. After a tor- por, which lasted several days, and rendered him almost insensible to surrounding objects, he was ena- bled to revive, and to recognise his beloved family, and give them hopes and consolations, infinitely more precious than those which Tacitus has suggested for the weeping relatives of Agricola — such as the world could not give, and cannot take away. His death, in the anticipations which lay before him, was peace- ful and triumphant ; not the triumph of the scholar, who had conquered the difficulties of science, and acquired applause by the extent, and accuracy, and abundance of his learning ; not of the patriot, who had given his all to his country and his fellow-men, which they had a right to ask at his hands ; not of the profound jurist and eloquent advocate, who had reached the summit of his profession, and received the award of equal rank with the proudest and the strongest ; no, nor even of the father and the hus- band, who had discharged all his duties with a beauty 59 and fidelity which left nothing to regret ; but it was the triumph of faith in the redemption purchased by atoning blood. Death is not, to him, an eternal sleep. The bonds which have been sundered shall be reunited. He has left memorials of good to his contemporaries, and those who shall succeed them. He had a hope of immortality and glory beyond the tomb, THE END b SS ■I a ' %, #; .T. A ° ^. 6* .• t •* o **d* . °^ •••° A. ^ •"' ^**«^.pa