Pass F $4Q Book ■VA'B^ /• WKnsTKU I.KVVIM; IIO.MK for KXKTKR AfATKMV. Se«' p. ■)2. THE AMERICAN STATESMAN; OB ILLUSTRATIONS OP THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OP DANIEL WEBSTER. DESIGNED FOB AMERICAN YOUTH. BY REV/ JOSEPH BANVARD, AOTHOB OF PLYMOUTH AND THE PILGRIMS, NOVELTIES OF THE NEW VTOBLO ROMANCE OF AMERICAN HISTORY, ETC. BOSTON: GOULD AND LINCOLN, 59 WASHINGTON STREET. 1853. £1-340 Gctered, according to Act of Congre«8, in the year 1863, by GOULD AND LINCOLN, In the Clerk'* Offic* of the District Court of the District of Mtweachunetts. STEBEOXyPKD AT THK BOSTON STESEOTYPE FOUXDRr. PREFACE. The object of this volume is to present a sketch of the most interesting and important events which occurred in the history of the distinguished statesman who has lately passed away. The author makes no pretensions to the discovery of new facts. He has availed himself chiefly of the published memoirs and reminis- cences of Mr. Webster, amongst which were Daniel Webster and his Contemporaries, by Charles W. March ; The Private Life of Daniel Webster, by Charles Lanman : Personal Memo- rials of Daniel Webster ; Memoir of the Life of Daniel Webster, by Samuel L. Knapp : Biograph- ical Memoir of the Life of Daniel Webster, by Edward Everett, prefixed to Mr. Webster's Works, and Life and Memorials of Daniel Web- ster ; together with the numerous eulogies, 5 6 PREFACE. Speeches, and sermons occasioned by his de- cease, selecting such facts and incidents from each as would suit his purpose, and deducing from them such lessons or principles of action as are worthy the contemplation of those for whom the book is specially designed. That the distinguished subject of this work- had his faults, and that there is a difference of opinion as to the wisdom of some of the acts of his political life, no one presumes to deny. But it is of his commendable traits of character that the author here treats. These he would hold up for the admiration and imitation of American youth. He has endeavored to prepare a work which every American patriot would be pleased to have his children read. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAQB The two Riders. —A pleasing Proposition. — Accepted. — A Bite. — A Plunge. — A Trout caught. — Daniel Webster. — His Birthplace. — Kearsage Mountain. —The tottling Boy. — The mysterious Well. — Drinking from the moss-covered Bucket. — Influence of Nature on Style. — Webster's Love for the Grand in Nature. — Worthy of Im- itation. —Pictures admired more than the original Landscapes.— Advice to the Young. — Influence of the Love of Nature on Char- acter ^^ CHAPTER II. Webster's Father. — Webster's Health. — His Education desired. — Providential Arrangement. — A School opened. — Teacher Chase — Webster's early Struggles for an Education. — Unreasonable Com- plaints Contrasts. — Master Tappan. — Mutual Remembrances. — Webster's first Letter to Tappan. — His Donation. — Master Tap- 7 I CONTENTS. pan'a Testimony. — Webster gets a Reward. — Tappan's Enthusi- asm. — Webster's second Letter to him. — His Example commend- ed. — Note. — Tappan's Death. — Teacher Hoyt. — His Character. — Webster's Testimony concerning him. — Webster reads to the Teamsters. — Domestic Scenes 23 CHAPTER III. Social Libraries. — Webster's Reading. — The Mill — Daniel at the Mill. — His favorite Authors. — His Employment favorable for Read- ing. --The Constitution on the Handkerchief. — The Books he choSe. — His Amusements. — Freezes his Toes. — No Pleasure in being scolded. — Observance of the Sabbath. — Deacon True's Boys. — The Influence of Habit. — Webster a quick Learner. — Concludes to become a Teacher. — Goes to an Academy. — Impor- tance of Education. — Webster and the Side Saddle. — His Exam- ination. — He can't declaim. — Is ridiculed. — rfis two Promo- tions 40 CHAPTER IV. A Sleigh Ride. — Affecting Incident. — Benefits of Knowledge. — Advice to Youth. — A Supposition. — Webster learns rapidly. — His Mode of Retaliation. — A Day for Pigeon shooting. — Industri- ous Boy. — His Habits broken. — Blistered Hands. — Groes a Berry- ing. — An amusing Incident. — Poorly fitted for College. — Impor- tance of a good Preparation for College. — False Position. — Webster's Ride to Hanover. — Great Freshet. — Appears before the Faculty for Examination. — Blue Dan. — Passes the Ordeal safe- ly — Enters College at the Age of Fifteen 59 CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. 9 Webster is classed low. — He soon rises. — His Industry in College — Advice to Undergraduates. — College Temptations. — Their Anti- dote. — Webster studies Oratory. — His personal Appearance. — De- livers a Fourth of July Oration. — Great Britain's Injustice in the French War. — English Oppressions. — Battle of Bunker Hill.— Declaration of Independence. — Webster's Address to the Revolu- tionary Fathers. — Remarks upon the Oration. — He delivers a fu- neral Eulogy. — Mortality a Principle of Action. — Prepare for the Future. — Religious Suggestions "^^ CHAPTER VI. A great Gathering. — Webster's Theme at Commencement. — Howr collegiate Honors are distributed. — United Fraternity. — Webster chosen Orator. — His Oration. — Tears up his Diploma. — Studies with Squire Thompson. — Becomes a School Teacher. — Advan- tages of keeping School. — Registry of Deeds. — Where there is a Will there is a Way. — Fingers ache. — Volumes of Deeds.— Vote of Thanks. —Academy burned Aflection. — Reverence for Mr. Webster. — How manifested. — Continues to study Law. —Com- mits to Memory Orations ^ CHAPTER VII. Webster fond of Fishing. — Lovewell's Pond. — The great Fight. — Im- portance of Relaxation. — Mr. Webster'.s Course. — Relinquishes his School. — Providential Circumstance. — Mr. Webster's Progress in 10 CONTENTS. Law. — His Attention to Business. — The wrong Course. — Kimball's Turnpilte. — Webster's Determination. — His Success. — Rule to reg- ulate Subscriptions. — Mr. Webster studies with Hon. Mr. Gore. — Is admitted to the Bar. — Mr. Gore's Commendation and Prophecy .... 101 CHAPTER VIII. Has a Clerkship offered him — Declines it. — His Father displeased. — Pays his Father's Debts. — His filial Attachment. — Some treat their Parents unkindly. — Mr. Webster's first Plea. — He astonishes every body. — Controlling Witnesses. — The Detection. — The Character of his Arguments. — Webster and Mason — " Import a young Earth- quake " 117 CHAPTER IX. A dreadful Deed General Alarm. — Attack of two Footpads. — Hatch's Disclosure. — Grant's Letters. — Grant arrested — The Knapps arrested. — The Confession. — The Plot explained. — Palmer imprisoned. — Crowninsliield's Signal. — Palmer's Fear. — The Tri- al. — Mr. Webster's Plea. — The Wicked insnare themselves. — Extraordinary Things — Avoid bad Company 134 CHAPTER X. Mr. Webster in the House of Representatives. — His first Speech. — Its Impression. — Was successful. — Not in Haste to debate. — His CONTENTS. 11 Qualities as an Orator. — An Attack on New England. — Webster and Bell. — A crowded Senate. — His Introduction. — His Allusion to the Old Bay State. —The thrilling Effect. — Meeting in the East Room. — Importance of the Speech. — Webster's transcendent Abil- ities. — Seventh of March Speech. — Its Effect. — Different Opin- ions concerning it > 173 CHAPTER XI. Ezekiel Webster. — A noble Mother. — An Affecting Night Scene. — Fraternal Attachment. — Touching Tribute of Affection. — A beau- tiful Letter. — Dedications. — Living Monuments. — The Profile. — Mother's Garden. — Mr. Webster visits his Grave. — The Cem- etery. — His Remarks. — Monumental Inscriptions. — Mr. Webster's Poetry, "The Memory of the Heart" 199 CHAPTER XII. Mr. Webster's Mirthfulness. — A playful Letter. — Mr. Choate's Pa- thos. — Webster's practical Joke. — Mr. Choate's poor Writing. — Effect of the Joke. — Mr. Webster's Trout Law. — " That ain't the Worst of it." — Amusing Contrast. — The Senate mterrupted. — Webster and the Buckeyes. — "Old Webster" and the sporting Snobs. — Appearances deceptive. — Webster's Wit. — Amusing Re- ply. — " Venerable " Trout. — Effect of Cheerfulness. — Webster's Spelling Book 217 12 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIII. Mr. Webster an early Riser. — His Letter on the Morning. — Adam's Mornings. — What to observe in the Morning. — Dr. Doddridge on early Rising. — Beauties of Marshfield. — Mr. Webster's Love of Trees. — He protects Birds. — His Reward. — The Quails. — He taraes wild Geese. — His Interest m the natural Sciences. — Pre- sents Audubon with Birds. — The Wall-flower. — The Sound of the Sea. — Lessons of Nature. — Dignity of the Study of Nature. . . . 236 CHAPTER XIV. Mr. Webster's Candor. — Mr. Ketchum's Testimony — Direction to Mr. Everett — His Magnanimity. — Dr. Choules's Testimony. — Webster and Dickenson. — Webster's Eulogy on Calhoun. — Char acter of his Mind. — H's impressive Manner. — He will be re- membered. — Webster and Hayne. — How to treat Opponents. — Charity 953 CHAPTER XV. The Human Family a Brotherhood. — Effect of little Kindnesses — Webster and Miss Mitford. — Influence of a Friend's Death. — Do- nations of Garden Seeds. — Gives away a Cow. — Kindness to Mr. Tappan. — Hungarian Bull. — Grores Mr. Taylor — Kossuth. — Mr. Webster's Present — Charles Brown's Use of Holiday Money. — Items in Mr. Webster's Will. — A Rebuke and Fifty Dollars.— The old Lady on Webster's Farm. — Another Fifty Dollars. ~Web> CONTENTS. 13 rter loans a Client Money. — A touching Story of a Widow's Pov- erty and Mr. Webster's Benevolence 964 CHAPTER XVI. Mr. Webster never out of Order. — Sings with an old Lady. — Re- ligious Allusions. — The Bible is " the Book." — Piety of his Brother Ezekiel. — An Evening Scene and Scripture Quotation. — Mr. Web- ster's Remarks on Job. — He prefers John. — Constant in Attend- ance on Public Worship. — His Opinii/n of Sermonizing. — His Opinion of Prayer. — Mr. Kirk's Sermon. — Mr. Webster's Remarks upon it. — Believer in the Atonement. — Requests Prayer on board a Steamboat. — Influence of Prayer. — Arithmetic of Heaven. — His Religious Views. — Pleased with Dr. Watts's Hymns. — Mr. Alden's Eulogy. — Recognition of Divine Providence. — Evidences of Christianity. — Writes the Inscription for his own Monument — Its Importance 284 CHAPTER XVII. Mr. Webster's Health fails. — He retires to Marshiield. — His Strength decreases. — Signs his Will. — Returns Thanks. — Encourages Dr. Jeffries. — His Prediction. — It is fulfilled. — Arranges for the Ex- press. — Gives Instructions respecting his Affairs. — His last Inter- view with his Family. — Peter Harvey. — 24th of October. — Gray's Elegy — Calls in his Servants. — The Valley. — His Death. — Poetry 330 14 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVIII. Funeral of Mr. Webster at Marshfield. — Appearance of his Re- mains. — He is borne to the Grave by his Neighbors. — Boston in Mourning. — Impressive Arrangements. — Business suspended. — Appropriate Mottoes Funeral Obsequies in Boston on the 30th of November. — Address of Mr. Hillard. — Closing Quotation 339 CHAPTER I. • The two Riders. — A pleasing' Proposition. — Accepted. — A Bite. — A Plunge. — A Trout caught. — Daniel Webster.— His Birthplace. — Kearsage Mountain. — The tottling Boy. — The mysterious Well. — Drinking from the moss-covered Bucket. — Influence of Nature on Style. — Webster's Love for the Grand in Nature. — Worthy of Imitation. — Pictures ad- mired more than the original Landscapes. — Advice to the Young. — Influence of the Love of Nature on Character. About sixty-five years ago, a man of stalwart form, broad shoulders, and swarthy complexion, was riding through Salisbury, in New Hampshire, on horseback, carrying with him a puny little boy, with dark features, sparkling black eyes, a round, projecting forehead, and dressed in coarse, home- spun clothes, with two little, shoeless feet projecting from beneath. The man had been indulging in juvenile conversation, adapted to the comprehension of his young charge, for some time, in which the little fellow had taken part, with an occasional child- like remark or question. As they approached a brook, whose clear, cool waters flowed, sometimes murmuringly, at other times silently, through the woods and fields, marking their course by a vigor- ous fertility, the gentleman suddenly exclaimed, " Dan, how would you like to catch a trout 1 " (15) 16 THE TWO RIDERS. The little boy, who perhaps had never used hook and hne before, immediately signified his pleasure at the proposition. The horse was checked ; both riders dismounted, and began to prepare for the sport. The tall form and long arms of the gentle- man were specially favorable in aiding him to cut from a neighboring tree a rod. It would seem as if he were accustomed to these extemporaneous fishing excursions, and always went prepared for them ; for, thrusting his hand into his pocket, he drew out a string and hook ; then turning over a stone or two, he found a worm, which he soon ad- justed as bait. After fastening the line to the rod, he gave it to the little boy, saying, " Now, Dan, creep carefully upon that rock, and throw the bait upon the farther side of the pool." The little fish- erman did as he was ordered. His bait was soon in the water, and his eye intently watching it. It was not long before some indiscreet fish, thoughtless of consequences, darted from his concealment, seized the bait, and disappeared like a flash of lightning. This was just what the boy wanted. Being highly excited with his success, he gave a sudden jerk to the line ; but, instead of drawing the fish out of the water, he unfortunately lost his balance, and plunged headlong into the pool. The gentleman, seeing that the boy was more likely, from present appearances, to die in the water, than the fish was to expire upon OS a H CD P3 M t-* ru o o •«3 m Webster's birthplace. 17 the land, ran to his rescue. He succeeded n reach- uig him and drawing him ashore, " with a pound trout traihng behind him." This lad was Daniel Webster, and the person who had him in charge was his own father. Not fai' from the place where this rather ludicrous incident occurred, stood, at that time, one of the better class of farm houses ; although, at the present period, and in other localities, if might be regarded as a very ordinary building. It was but one story high, with a door in the middle, and a window on each side, and three windovv^s at either end. It con- tained four rooms on the ground floor, with, proba- bly, chambers in the attic. An addition in the rear answered the purpose of a kitchen. It had only one chimney, and this arose from the centre of the roof, furnishing, probably, three or four fireplaces, in as many different rooms. The framework was of heavy timber, the exterior clapboarded, and the ends pointed, differing in this respect from the gam- brel roof. On the green in front of the house arose a large and graceful elm, extending its long and heavy branches over the mansion below, as if, in the exercise of an affectionate interest, it vrould protect it from harm. Many other trees of the same kind were scattered over the grounds, on which account the place received the appropriate name of " Elms Farm." Near one end of the house was a deep ^>( 18 HIS EARLY CHILDHOOD. well, with a long, old-fashioned well sweep, to one extremity of which was attached a bucket, by means of which the clear, cool water was drawn up for the use of the family. At a short distance, in front of the house, flowed a beautiful silver stream, over which was thrown a safe, though rough-looking bridge. Farther off was a high hill, crowned with a church, and beyond all, the lofty Kearsage moun- tain lifted itself, " head and shoulders " above the surrounding hills — a beautiful type of him, who, in intellectual greatness, rose far above his com- peers. In this house, on the 18th day of January, 1782, Daniel Wel)ster was born. Now that he has departed, after having lived to a good old age, and after having acquired a world-wide fame, as a far-reaching statesman, a powerful orator, and a skilful diplomatist, it is interesting to look back, and contemplate the circumstances and events of his early life. At one time, we see him, a little, totthng boy, in homespun frock, making his first essays to balance himself upon his shoe- less feet, as he advances from the doorstep to greet his father, who has just crossed the bridge, and is approaching, with outstretched hands and rapid step, to meet him. Again we see him, amus- ing himself under the shadow of the friendly elm, that stands by the door, like a huge grenadier, YOUTHFUL FANCIES. 19 guarding the entrance to a fort. A few years later, we behold him tripping over the fields, jumping across the brook, or wandering along its margin, with hook and line, ready to " try his luck " so soon as he shall have reached a place where the water is sufficiently still and deep to give promise of success. Again, wearied with his wanderings, or his labors, is he leaning over the well, gazing at an- other little boy that he sees far down in the bottom, and who is mysteriously looking up at him. It would not be strange, if at times he imagined it a hole cut through the earth, and that some little fel- low, on the other side, was, like himself, indulging his curiosity by looking through. A pebble drop- ping in disturbs the surface of the water, breaks the mysterious picture into a thousand fragments, and dispels the illusion. Again, in evening twi- light, we seem to see him sitting upon the door- sill ; and, as the noble Kearsage rises in the dis- tance, with its bold outline clearly defined against the gray-blue sky, he gives reins to his juvenile fancy ; and, as the ancient Hebrews " sucked honey from the rock, and oil from the flinty rock," so he drinks in inspiration from the sublimity of the ma- jestic mount before him. Who can tell to iiow great a degree he was indebted, for the simplicity, the directness, and the majesty of his thoughts, and of his style as an orator, to the noble simplicity and 20 HIS LOVE OF NATURE. grandeur of this mountain ? It was not decorated with beautiful, terraced, hanging gardens, nor with graceful, luxuriant vineyards. It arose almost naked from the plain, as though it spurned ornament — as though it needed nothing but its own majestic pro- portions to give it grandeur ; and thus, by its own silent, powerful, eloquent example, it may have ? id- ed to impart those characteristics of thought and diction which give such a charm and force to the oratory of Mr. Webster. From early life Mr. Webster was fond of Nature. He loved sunlight and shadow, rolling hills, quiet lawns, turbulent streams, and placid lakes. Na- ture, in her milder, her gayer, or her sterner moods, was to him always pleasing. He was specially interested in the great things of creation. He de- liohted to travel through the wildness of mountain scenery. Its projecting cliffs, its high precipices, its deep chasms, its lightning-scarred rocks, its thun- dering cataracts, and its leaning, gigantic trees, with roots half exposed, threatening every moment to fall, and ofttimes executing their threatenings, — all inspired him with pleasing emotions and instructive thoughts. He loved to wander by the ocean, and have its huge billows roll up and lay their bubbles at his feet. Its vast expanse, its ceaseless restless- ness, its emerald hue, and the music of its roar, were always grateful to him. He loved to gaze EXAMPLE FOR IMITATION. 21 into the unmeasured spaces above him, and contem- plate the stars, as immense globes swinging in their orbits, as if they were the mighty pendulums which controlled the cycles of ages, and regulated the mechanism of the universe. This love of Nature, Mr. Webster, as we have said, early developed. It strengthened with advan- cing years, and became a prominent feature in his character. In this respect, his example is worthy of imitation by the young. It seems surprising that, with so many objects of admiration around us, as are presented in the infinite variety of forms, colors, and combinations of natural objects, there are any who derive from their contemplation no enjoyment. Many individuals will gaze upon a picture — a land- scape for instance — with the greatest pleasure. Its rough rocks, vine-draped trees, or decaying, mis- shapen stumps, are pointed out as interesting fea- tures, equal almost to the more important combina- tions of hill and valley, land and water, on which the artist has bestowed his greatest skill. And yet. these same persons would ride by the original of that picture, executed with the infinite skill of the Divine Artist, and give it no attention whatever. O, how many magnificent landscapes are every day passed by, without eliciting any praise, or awaken- ing any admiration in the beholder ! Let it not be so with you. On the contrary, 22 INFLUENCE OF NATURE. cultivate a taste for the beautiful objects of creation. Notice the colors on the petal of a flower, the infi- nite diversity of forms in the leaves of trees, and the changing effects of liglit and shade. Calmly contemplate the hues and shapes of the ever-shifting clouds, the features of the ocean, the lake, or the river. Form a habit of observing the peculiarities of natural objects in your immediate vicinity, and you will find your heart warming towards them. The scenery with which you have always been fa- miliar will, to your fancy, put on a new dress, and invest itself with more pleasing charms. This is not all ; for the love of Nature has an elevating and purifying influence. It fills the mind with en- nobling thoughts ; it calms the passions ; it reminds us of the wisdom, 'the power, the goodness, and the omnipresence of the Creator, and makes us more sensible of our own weakness, and of our entire dependence upon Him without whom we can do nothing. CHAPTER II. Webster's Father. — Webster's Health.— His Education de- sired. — Providential Arrangement. — A School opened. — Teacher Chase. — Webster's early Strug-gles for an Educa- tion. — Unreasonable Complaints. —^'Contrasts. — Master Tap- pan. — Mutual Remembrances. — Webster's first Letter to Tappan. — His Donation. — Master Tappan's Testimony. — Webster gets a Reward. — Tappan's Enthusiasm. — Web- ster's second Letter to him. — His Example commended. — Note. — Tappan's Death. — Teacher Hoyt. — His Charac- ter. — Webster's Testimony concerning him. — Webster reads to the Teamsters. — Domestic Scenes. The parents of young Webster appreciated the value of a good education. His father, knowing from his own painful experience the disadvantages of being destitute of so great a boon, was anxious that his children should escape a similar experience. He was particularly solicitous with reference to Daniel, who, in his childhood, was pale, weak, and sickly. Fearing that he would be unable to per- form the heavy work of a farmer, or to obtain his livelihood from any of the mechanic arts, he was the more anxious to give him as good an education as his circumstances would permit. May we not discover in these facts the development of a wise Providence 1 If Daniel had been a strong, mus- cular boy, or, being weakly, if his parents had not (23) 24 • DIVINE PROVIDENCE. set a high value upon education, he would probably have been devoted to an agricultural life, and then the whole current of his history would have flowed in a channel vastly different from that which now marks its course. His noble speeches, his model state papers, his sagacious diplomacy, his legal knowledge, and his clear and comprehensive ex- positions of the Constitution of the United States, with all the patriotic and conservative influence which has followed them, would have been lost to the world. In what respects the present condition of our country would then have been different from what it is, how far those principles and measures which he opposed would have triumphed, and to how great a degree the adoption of the views and policy which he advocated would have failed, it may not be easy to tell. No one will deny that a great loss would have been experienced to literature, to law, and the science of civil government. This, however, was prevented by the providential sickli- ness of his youth, and the discretion of his parents. Truly — " There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Roug-hhew them how we will." At the time kittle Daniel was old enough to com- mence sitting at the feet of some Gamaliel, it so happened that no »* schoolmaster was abroad " in HIS FIRST TEACHER. 25 the vicinity of his home. His mother was his teach- er. She gave him the key to all knowledge, by initiating him into the mysteries of the alphabet. That she was a suitable person to have the control of his infantile years, will be made apparent upon a subsequent page. As the neighbors, in the vicinity of Elms Farm, were equally anxious with Mr. Webster to secure the opportunities of education for their children, a gentleman by the name of Chase was induced to open a school near Mr. Webster's house. There was nothing particularly promising in the enterprise, nothing imposing in its external demonstrations. It was not held in a public hall, nor in an edifice erected for the purpose, which might be dignified with the name of school house, but in a hired room in the house of a neighbor, whose name was San- ^ born. To this room little Daniel was sent every day, to learn how to spell and read his mother tongue. This house has resisted the power of the elements, and the inroads of modern improvements, till the present time. It will doubtless be, in future vears, an attractive spot to thousands, who will de- sire to see the original school room where the giant intellect of America's greatest statesman received its first academic instruction. At that early period, by the law of New Hampshire, each town was divided into several school districts. Accordingly, 26 MIGRATORY EDUCATION. Salisbury, the town in which Mr. Webster resided, contained three school houses, scattered at a distance of several miles from each other. In these, how- ever, school was not kept all the year. A teacher was employed by the town, who taught a tliird of a year in each of them ; so that the opportunity of education was somewhat migratory. These school houses were of a rude, unfinished, log-house char- acter, erected for use, and not for show. By this time they have all passed away, leaving not a trace behind. When the term arrived for the school house in Mr. Webster's district to be opened, it was easy for Daniel to attend ; but when the school was kept in the other districts, the young lad did not stay at home. With basket, or tin pail, containing his din- ner, he trudged away, mile after mile, over hill and dale, and through comparatively unfrequented roads, to school, and returned again at night. So highly did his parents value education, that they were will- ing to subject their children to great inconvenience for its attainment. It is no uncommon thinjr for both children and parents, in large cities, to indulge in complaints, if the school house happens to be sit- uated a half mile from their residence, although there are good sidewalks all the way. One might infer, from the tone of their remarks, that they con- sidered the sending of their children to school a MASTER TAPPAN. 27 favor to the teacher or the school committee, instead of a privilege to themselves, and that therefore they were justified in their complaints of its distance. It would be well for such to remember the incon veniences which were endured by their forefathers, in obtaining what at best was only a "little school ing," and contrast their long and dreary walks, over poor roads, in all kinds of weather, their miserable school houses, and ofttimes their equally miserable teaching, with the convenient and well-furnished schools, and the excellent instruction of the present day. The number is not small of those, who, if they were subjected to the embarrassments which the feeble young Webster was obliged to surmount, would be discouraged, and faint by the way. The next teacher to whom young Webster was sent was James Tappan. This gentleman is still living, and is nearly ninety years of age. He re- sides in Gloucester.* Although there had been a separation between master and pupil for many years, yet they each retained a distinct recollection of each other. That the master should remember the pupil, especially when his subsequent history was radiant with glory, and that he should continue to follow his career with something of paternal pride, is not remarkable ; but that the scholar should re- tain a distinct impression of the first instructors of * See Note on p. 34. 28 Webster's leiter to tappan. his childhood, of their characters and quahfications for their office, and that that impression should not be erased during a long series of years, filled up with ceaseless attention to national cares, and the re- ception of popular glory, may justly excite surprise. In 1851, Mr. Tappan, who was in reduced cir- cumstances, took the liberty of addressing a letter to his old pupil, in which he referred to his recol- lections of their former relation. This drew from Mr. Webster the following reply, in which there is a beautiful blending of the sentiments of friendship and piety : — "Washington, February 26, 1851. If " Master Tappan : I thank you for your let- ter, and am rejoiced to know that you are among the living. I remember you perfectly well, as a teacher of my infant years. I suppose my mother must have taught me to read very early, as I have never been able to recollect the time when I could ..not read the Bible. I think Master Chase was my earliest schoolmaster, probably when I was three or four years old. Then came Master Tappan. You boarded at our house, and sometimes, I think, in the family of Mr. Benjamin Sanborn, our neiglibor, the jame man. Most of those whom you knew in New Salisbury have gone to their graves. Mr. John Sanborn, the son of Benjamin, is yet living, and is about your a^e. Mr. John Colby, who married my V THE DONATION. 29 eldest sister, Susannah, is also living. On the * ' North Road ' is Mr. Benjamin Pettingil. I think of none else among the living whom you would probably remember. You have, indeed, lived a checkered life. I hope you have been able to bear prosperity with meekness, and adversity with patience. These things are all ordered for us far better than we could order them for ourselves. We may pray for our daily bread ; we may pray for the forgiveness of sins ; we may pray to be kept from temptation, and that the kingdom of God may come in us, and in all men, and his will every vv^here be done. Beyond this we hardly know for what good to supplicate the divine mercy. Our heavenly Fa- ther knovveth what we have need of better than we know ourselves, and we are sure that his eye, and his loving kindness, are upon us and around us every moment. " I thank you again, my good old schoolmaster, for your kind letter, which has awakened many sleeping recollections ; and, with all good wishes, I remain your friend and pupil, " Daniel Webster. "Mr. James Tappan." The Christian sympathy and consolation which this letter contained were rendered doubly grateful to the old gentleman by a fifty dollar bank 30 MASTER TAPPAN's ENTHUSIASM. which it contained ; * for Mr. Webster was not ^f the number of those who profess sympathy and withhold rehef, who say, '* Depart in peace: be ye warmed and filled ; notwithstanding they give them not those things which are needful to the body." He added to his professions of regard a tangible seal. Master Tappan took great delight in talking of his distinguished pupiL On this, if on no other suliject, he became enthusiastic. A gentleman, who in 1851 met him on the piazza of the Pavilion, gives the following account of him : " Master Tap- pan is now in his eighty-sixth year, somewhat infirm, but with his intellectual faculties bright and vivid, especially on the subject of his old pupil, whom he esteems the foremost man of his times, and in whose fame he takes a justifiable pride. " ' Daniel was always the brightest boy in the school,' said Master Tappan, ' and Ezekiel the next; but Daniel was much quicker at his studies than his brother. He would learn more in five minutes than any other boy in five hours.' " It was Master Tappan's practice to hold out oc- casionally some reward, in order to stimulate his * Hon. Edward Everett states, in a note to his Memoir of Dan- iel Webster, that a knowledge of this fact was obtained from h paper, — the Gloucester News, — to which it^was probably com- municated by Mr. Tappan. WEBSTER GETS A JACKKNIFE. 31 scholars to their greatest exertion. In the above conversation, he related how his protege, at a cer- tain time, outstripped his competitors, and bore away the prize. ' One Saturday,' said he, 'I remember I held up a handsome, new jackknife to the schol- ars, and said, the boy who would commit to mem- ory the greatest number of verses in the Bible, by Monday morning, should have it. Many of the boys did well ; but when it came to Daniel's turn to recite, I found that he had committed so much that, after hearing him repeat some sixty or seventy verses, I was obliged to give up, he telling nie that there were several chapters yet that he had learned. Daniel got that jackknife. Ah ! sir, he was re- markable even as a boy ; and I told his father b»> \ would do God's work injustice if he did not send / both Daniel and Ezekiel to college. The old man said he couldn't well afford it ; but I told him he must, and he finally did. And didn't they both justify my good opinion ? Well, gentlemen, I am an old man, and too much given to talk, perhaps. Well, good by. Beautiful place this ! Beautiful sea view ; and the air, how soft and refreshing ! But I must leave it all soon, gentlemen. I have been suffering from the asthma for fifteen years, and it is now worse than ever. God is calling us all home, some sooner, some later ; for me it must 32 SECOND LETTER TO TAPPAN. needs be soon. But good by. Enjoy yourselves in this de.'ightful air. Good by ! ' And the old gentleman tottered away, after a monologue al- most verbatim such as I have recorded. It seems to be the one sunny spot in his old age, to talk of his old pupil, and to expatiate on his great- ness as a statesman, as an orator, and as a lawyer. Master Tappan alluded to the news in regard to the threatened difficulty with Great Britain, on ac- count of the north-eastern fisheries, but confidently remarked, ' Daniel will settle it all, so that we shall hold ^ur own, and have no trouble. They couldn't get along at all at Washington without Daniel. The country won't get into a scrape while it has the benefit of his pilotage ; be sure of that.' " This enthusiastic, complimentary language of the old gentleman, which appeared at the time in the Boston Evening Transcript, was read to Mr. Web- ster. Being in this manner reminded of his early friend again, then experiencing tfhe infirmities of disease and age, he immediately wrote the following letter : — "Boston, July 20, 1852. < " Master Tappan : I learn with much pleas- ure, through the public press, that you continue to enjoy life, with mental faculties bright and vivid, although you have arrived at a very advanced age. ANOTHER PRESENT TO TAPPAN. 33 and are somewhat infirm. I came to-day from the very spot in which you taught me ; * and to me a most delightful spot ii is. The river and the hills are as beautiful as ever, but the graves of my father and mother, and brothers and sisters, and early friends, gave it to me something of the appearance of a city of the dead. But let me not repine. You have lived long, and ray life is already not short, and we have both much to be thankful for. Two or three persons are yet living, who, like my- self, were brought up 5^/6 tua ferula. They remem- ber ' Master Tappan.' " And now, my good old master, receive a renewed tribute of affectionate regard from your grateful pupil, with his wishes and prayers for your happiness in all that remains to you in this life, and more especially for your participation hereafter in the durable riches of righteousness. "Daniel Webster." The " renewed tribute of affectionate regard," alluded to, did not consist so much of the senti- ments of the letter, although these were peculiarly grateful to the old gentleman, as of a twenty dollar bill which accompanied them. The example of Mr. Webster, in giving substan- * This was Mr. Webster's last visit to his birthplace. 3 'H TEACHER IIOYT. tial evidence of his gratitude to an early instructor nierits more than a simple statement. It develops an element of character worthy of imitation. Too frequently is it the case that pupils, even when they have attained to manhood, use lanouao^e with refer- ence to their early instructors, which is expressive of any other than respectful or grateful feelings. This, to use no stronger terms, is unfortunate. The practice of speaking disparagingly of one's early teachers, whose kindness, patience, and skill may all have been exhausted in unwearied efforts for our improvement, with perhaps but little encouragement on our part, deserves severe censure. But we can imagine few things more commendable than a pu- pil's expression of grateful remembrance of his teacher, by some appropriate tribute, more signifi- cant than words, especially when the condition of that teacher is one of infirmity and poverty.* After our young hero left Master Tappan, he was sent to school to Mr. William Hoyt, the itinerant teacher of the town, who successively occupied each of the school houses a third of the time. When he taught in the one at the greatest distance from the * Since the above was wriUen, we have seen it stated in the newspapers, that this venerable patriarch has died, and that, in a few days after, his wife followed hiin to the narrow house appoint- ed for all the living. United in life, they were by death not long dded. hoyt's character. 'So Websters, Daniel was usually boarded rut in the vicinity of the open school, coming homC;, liowever, every Saturday, and returning on Monday, and gen- erally on foot. Hoyt attained to no great distinc- tion in his profession. He could teach what he knew, but that was very little. He excelled in the art of penmanship, but was deficient in every thing else. The most that he could do was to teach spelling, reading, writing, and the elementary rules of arithmetic. Though his advantages at this time were not great, young Webster made the most of them, so that, in the course of a couple of years, he had exhausted his teacher — he could learn no more from him. The character of this man may be learned from the following remarks, which were made by Mr. Webster, after he had attained to high distinction as a statesman and an orator : " William Hoyt was for many years teacher of our county school in Salisbury : I do not call it village school, because there was, at that time, no village, and boys came to school in the winter — the only sea- son in which schools were usually open — from dis- tances of several miles, wading through the snow, or running upon its crust, with their curly hair often whitened with frost from their own breaths. I knew William Hoyt well, and every truant knew him. He was an austere man, but a good teacher of children. He had been a printer in Newbury- 36 WEBSTER AND THE TEAMSTERS. port, wrote a very fair and excellent hand, was » good reader, and could teach boys, and did teach boys, that which so few masters can or will do — to read well themselves. Beyond this, and, perhaps, a very slight knowledge of grammar, his attainments did not extend. He had brought with him into town a little property, whicli he took very good care of. He rather loved money — of all the cases of nouns, preferring the possessive ; he also kept a little shop for the sale of various comitiodities, in the house exactly over the way from this." But little Daniel was not dependent entirely upon his school teachers for instruction. His father was an excellent reader, and was in the habit of reading aloud to his family. Sometimes the book he selected for this purpose was the Bible ; at other times, when the mood prompted, it was Shakspeare, or the works of Pope. By hearing his father read, more than from the instruction he received at school, Daniel became a good reader. Having an excellent voice, and a ready perception of the meaning of a writer, with the ability to give the right inflections and emphases to develop that meaning, he was lis- tened to with pleasure. When he was but seven years of age his father kept a public house, at which the teamsters were accustomed to stop for " enter- tainment for man and beast." A part of the enter- tainmeiU which was then and there afforded, con- INTERESTING CONTRAST. 37 sisted of specimens of reading by the young orator. The teamsters were accustomed, as they checked their horses at the door of the inn, to say, " Come, let's go in, and hear a psahn from Dan Webster." The identical house in which this tavern was kept is still standing. Says Mr. Lanman, in his Private Life of Mr. Webster, with reference to this build- ing, " It was only a few months ago when Mr. Web- ster, bending under the weight of years and a pain- ful illness, sat with the writer upon its little porch, and descanted with streaming eyes upon the various events associated with his boyhood's home." How interesting the contrast between little Dan Webster reading a psalm in the tavern, for the amusement of his rustic auditors, and the same Webster, more than sixty years after, sitting upon the porch of the same tavern, after astonishing the world with his eloquence, visiting foreign courts — a sovereign among kings ; settling, through the skil- fulness of his diplomacy, some of the most difficult questions of international government, and, after attaining to an eminence immeasurably higher than any official distinctions in the gift of the people ! Who, at that early period, under the influence even of the wildest flights of fancy, would have ventured to predict that the little, puny, tavern Bible reader would become the renowned jurist and statesman, and fill the world with his fame 1 What a beauti- 38 pOME READING. fill illustration does this fiirnish of the influence of free institutions ! They not only give to genius room for growth, but assist its development, and then furnish a large field for its exercise, with the promise of abundant reward. The practice adopted by the elder Webster, of reading aloud from standard authors, has a highly beneficial effect. A father, who is a good reader, can do more to make his children such, than any teacher can, with the time usually devoted to that branch of education. Children are wonderfully im- itative. From their observation of others, they learn how to walk, speak, and act. If they fre- quently listen to good reading, they become good readers by mere imitation. They catch the tones, the cadences, the emphases, and the general man- ner of him to whom they listen. It was fortunate for young Webster that his father excelled in this difficult art. But this is not the only benefit which results from such practice. It assists in the cultivation of the taste of the children. It develops before them the excellences of, whatever is read. It awakens an attachment to such authors, and, in addition to their intrinsic merits, it surrounds them with the ever- pleasing associations of home. It also serves to make home attractive, and the family circle a sphere of jnprovement. BEAUTIFUL SCENE. 39 A father surrounded by his children, and reading to them from the Bible, or from some standard au- thor, whilst the mother is engaged with her knit- ling or sewing, presents a beautiful domestic scene. Such scenes were often witnessed at Ehns Farm. CHAPTER III. Social Libraries. — Webster's Reading. — The Mill. — Daniel at the Mill. — His favorite Authors. — His Einplo>niient favorable for Reading. — The Constitution on the Handkerchief. — The Books he chose. — His Amusements. — Freezes his Toes. — No Pleasure in being scolded. — Observance of the Sabbath. — Deacon True's Boys. — The Influence of Habit. — Webster a quick Learner. — Concludes to become a Teacher. — Goes to an Academy. — Lnportance of Education. — Webster and the Side Saddle. — His E.xamination. — He can't declaim. — Is ridiculed. — His two Promotions. We have said that Webster had other sources of instruction besides his teachers. Amongst these were the books to which he had access in his father's iiouse, and, after tliese were exiiausted, was the vil- lage library. The establishment of these social libraries had been urged upon the attention of the people by Dr. Belknap, who, in his History of New Hampshire, says, the establishment of social libra- ries " is the easiest, the cheapest, and the most effect- ual mode of diffusing knowledge among the people. For the sum of six or eight dollars at once, and a small annual payment besides, a man may be sup- plied with the means of literary improvement durinjif his life, and his children may inherit the blessing." This hint commended itself to Mr. Webster, and Aii THE SAW MILL. 41 Other gentlemen of Salisbury, among whom were the clergyman and the lawyer of the place, who, at a suitable time, acted upon the suggestion, and es- lablished a small library. Here young Webster was able to obtain the means of gratifying his love of reading. Among the books which he perused with interest w€re the Spectator, Pope's works, and va- rious biographies and travels. Near the residence of Mr. Webster was a deep, dark dell, covered on either side with lofty trees and overhanging bushes, at the bottom of which flowed a rapid, noisy stream, which was christened with the rather unpoetic name of Punch Brook. In this secluded place the father of Daniel erected a saw- mill. As lumber of different sizes was wanted for building and various other purposes, Mr. Webster's mill was in great demand, and proved to him a source of considerable income. Colonel Webster, as Daniel's ftither was called, was anxious to form in his children habits of industry. Although he did not prohibit play, he enjoined work. He often took Daniel, when a small boy, to the mill with him. Being quick to learn, and willing to practise what he knew, the little fellow was soon able to render himself quite useful to his father in the capacity of mill boy. He understood how to set the large saw, how to- raise the gate, set the machinery in motion, and tlien, how to attend to tlie operatioj •^ DANIEL A MILL BOY. until the long log was sawed through its whole ength. The sawing of a log once through occupied ahout fifteen minutes. It then had to he readjusted for the next operation. Whilst the saw was pass- ing tlirough the timher, the little mill boy was not occupied with knife and stick, whittling away his time ; neither did he stand in listless indolence, looking on to observe how slowly or how rapidly the saw made progress ; but, with book in hand, he was poring over " the best thoughts of the best au- thors." He was cultivating his taste, and gathering instruction and intellectual stimulus from the pages of such men as Steele, Addison, Pope, Shakspeare, or other valuable Avriters. " There, in that old saw mill, surrounded by forests, in the midst of great noise, which such a mill makes, and this, too, with- out materially neglecting his task, he made himself familiar with the most remarkable events recorded by the pen of history, and with the lives and char- acters of the most celebrated persons who had hved in the tides of time. He has never forgotten what he read there. So tenacious is his memory, that he can recite long passages from the old books which he read there, and has scarcely looked at since. The solitude of the scene, the absence of every thing to divert his attention, the simplicity of his occupation, the taciturn and thoughtful manner of his father, all favored the process of transplanting THE FAMOUS POCKET HANDKERCHIEF. 43 every idea found in those books to his fresh, fruit- ful, and viii'orous mind. I have not made a visit to any of tlie scenes of Mr. Webster's boyhood more interesting than to this old mill." * It will be appropriate to relate, in this connection, another fact, for which we have the authority of Mr. Webster himself. In his conversation respecting his teacher Hoyt, a part of which is given on a preced- ing page, he said, "Hoyt also kept a little shop, for the sale of various commodities, in the house exactly over the way from this. I do not know how old I was, but I remember having gone into his shop one day, and bought a small, cotton pocket handkerchief, with the Constitution of the United States printed on its two sides. From this I first learned either that there was a Constitution or that tliere were United States. I remember to have read it, and have known more or less of it ever since. William Hoyt and his wife lie buried in the grave- yard under our eye, on my farm, near the graves of my own family. He left no children. I sup- pose that this little handkerchief was purchased fibout the time that I was eight years old, as I re- member listening to the conversation of my father and Mr. Thompson upon political events which happened in the year 1790." Another accouat 4 * Life and Memorial of Daniel Webster. 44 Webster's reading. states that lie paid for that liantlkercliief all the money he had in his pocket, which amounted to twenty-five cents, and that the evenin<;: of that day was wholly emi)loyed in the careful perusal and study of that novel document, while seated hy the fireside in company with his lather and mother. What an interesting memento that handkerchief would now he, if it could any where he found ! In the character of the reading which this young lad selected, we see the direction of his mind ; and, as we review^ his suhsequent career, we may discover something of the effects which his early reading produced upon his mental hahits and tastes. It may, perhaps, have heen a fortunate circumstance for him that, at that time, there was no "juvenile literature." He was therefore obliged, if he read at all, to peruse works of a higher character, by means of which his mental powers were tasked and greatly strengthened. He was one of the very few who, at an early age, are capable of being interest- ed in the master spirits of literature. Many lads, if placed in his condition, would have spent their time in idleness. They have not the mental calibre for understanding, and perusing with interest, those works wdiich ofave him delight. For such children juvenile works furnish the appropriate nutriment. They can endure nothing stronger than intellectual milk at an aoe when Webster was digesting strong HIS WINTER SPORTS. 45 meat. Care should be exercised lest they continue the use of such milk too long. So numerous, di- versified, and attractive are the juvenile books which are constantly falling- from the press, that some indi- viduals make them t.ieir exclusiv^e reading, who oujrht to have advanced far bevond them, and made themselves acquainted with the most eminent au- thors. Let such be rebuked by the example of the little mill boy of Elms Farm. Let it not, however, be supposed that Webster, in this early period of his life, was a recluse. Far from it. He loved healtliy, out-door sports, as well as other children. In nutting, squirrel hunting, fishing, and, when old enough, in gunning, he took as much pleasure as others. In his early years, New Hampshire was distin- guished for deep snows and long winters. These gave opportunity to Daniel to indulge in sports of another character — skating on the ponds, coasting down hill, or rolling balls, and making snow men and snow houses. Sometimes, so great would be the quantity of snow as to cover up all the rocks and fences, and make a smooth inclined plane from the top of the hill to the shore of the Merrimac, in the vicinity, down which he would coast with the swiftness of the wind, and be carried by his accel- erated force nearly across the frozen river. On the coldest^days, our little hero m ight be seen wading 46 OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. through the deep drifts, and crossing' the frozen brooks, drairirinir after him his sled, that with neigh- boring boys he might engage in the healthful excite- ment of tliis invigorating sport. On one occasion, so interested had he become in this amusement, and so unmindful of the severity of the cold, that he froze the toes of both his feet, and, as a penalty for his indiscretion, was confined to his house several davs, until his chilblains were healed. Like other boys, he would sometimes yield to the temptations of this sport, until it made him late at school, when he was sure to be reprimanded by his father. This led him to say, " there was great fun in shding down hill, but there was not much fun in hearinir his father scold, when he staid out of-..^ school to enjoy it." The young should regard it J \ as a settled fact, that there can be no true enjoy- |r y ment in going contrary to a parent's wishes. \ The effect of these out-door, exhilarating exercises was to increase the robustness and strength of the puny boy. As the parents of Webster were religious people, they taught their children to observe the Sabbath. All toys and sports were laid aside, and the day reverently spent in a manner that harmonized with the ol.ject of its appointment. Although the meet- ing house was four miles from their residence, yet Mr. Webster insisted upon his children's attelidance. ^ DEACON TRUE's BOYS. 47 To this Daniel demurred, because he was obliged to walk the whole distance. There was on the road a family by the name of True, who lived at an equal distance (of about two miles) from the Websters * and the church, and in which there were some boys, playfellows of Daniel, with whom he had many a " good time." When, therefore, Dan complained that he was compelled to walk so far to meeting, his father replied, — " I see Deacon True's boys there every Sunday regularly, and have never heard of their complain- ing." Daniel at once saw that the cases were not par- allel, and immediately said, — " Ah, yes ! the deacon's boys live half way there, and of course have only half as far to walk." " Well," rejoined his father, " you may get up in the morning, dress yourself, and run up to Dea- con True's, and go with them ; then you will have no farther to walk than they do." This reply, in which there was a vein of kindness and good humor, was to the lad perfectly satisfac- tory. It required no self-denial to run up to Dea- con True's and meet his playfellows, and with their company, the walk to the church could not be oth- erwise than pleasant. After this, therefore, on every Sabbath when the weather would permit, Daniel was found in his place at church, notwithstanding 48 WEBSTER EDUCATED FOR A TEACHER. the four long miles. His father's wisdom, in ren- dering his way easy, assisted him in forming the habit of constant attendance upon public worship. It has been said that " man is a bundle of habits." It cannot be denied that a large part of our con- duct is nothing more than a repetition of acts pre- viously performed. By this repetition habits are formed. Many individuals regularly absent them- selves from the house of God, and others as regu- larly attend, from mere habit. When either of these jiabits is formed, a departure from it is attended with difficulty. We sensitively shrink from the violation of our estabUshed customs. This is the reason why individuals, who seldom attend public worship, find it so irksome to go, and so uninterest intr when there. This fact furnishes a strong in- ducement for the formation of a habit of constant attendance upon the services of the sanctuary ; for, when formed, it will become to us a kind of second nature, which will prevent our absence from public worship except from necessity. In consequence of the constitutional weakness of young Webster, it appeared impossible for him to 0-aiR a livelihood by hard labor. His father, there- fore, resolved to qualify him for the important, but less arduous, duty of school teacher. This had been suggested to him by Mr. Thompson, a lawyer who boarded in Mr. Webster's family, and who had GOES TO PHILLIPS ACADEMY. 49 iiiven Daniel some lessons in the Lntin Grammar. The ease with wliicli he committed these lessons to memory, and his general quickness of apprehension, induced Mr. Thompson to advise his father to send liim to an academy, for the purpose of qualifying him as a sclioulmaster. The mother was pleased with the suiji^estion, and uri^ed its adoDtion. His brother Joseph, who was then of age, also f'vored it. He jocosely assigned as a reason, that, " as Dan had not such bright natural talents as his brothers and sisters, a little education would perhaps make up the deficiency." The father consented. He supposed tliat, according to the customs of the times, his son would teach school in the winter, and work on the farm, if his health allowed, in the summer. As this course had been found profitable by some of the families in town, he inferred that it would result in no loss to his own. He therefore -gave consent, little dreaming of the important results which were destined to flow from his decision. At that time no academical institution stood higher in New England than Phillips Academy, in -Exeter. It had been handsomely endowed by John Phillips, LL. D., after whom it was named, whose donations and bequests to it amounted to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This large sum made it independent of the income which might be received for tuition from the pupils. To this insti- 50 > PATRIOTIC BENEFICENCE. tutioii Colonel Webster determined to send Daniel. It was a most fortunate circumstance for the rising^ republic of the United States, that, immediately after the war for independence, the attention of the peo- ple was directed, in different parts of the country, with more than usual interest, to educational affairs. Such was the genius of the new institutions to which that inde])endence gave rise, and so great was the controlling power of the people in political affairs, through the elective franchise, that it was apparent to all reflecting persons, that general intelligence among the masses of the people was essential to the heakhful working and the perpetuity of the new forms of government. Not only, therefore, did state legislatures, and the municipal officers of the various towns, give special consideration to educational mat- ters, but wealthy gentlemen, under the influence of patriotism, contributed freely of their own private funds for the endowment of schools and colleges. As, in many respects, the system of government in the United States was unlike any other that then existed, or had ever been known to exist, — as it was an experiment, on a magnificent scale, of the capa- bilities of a nation for self-government, under pecu- liar laws, — it was essential for the success of the experiment that a class of men should be raised up who would be able to take correct and comprehen- sive views of all parts of the complicated machinery, AN IMPORTANT DAY. 51 who should understand all the relations and inter ests of the country as a whole, and of the individual states of which it was composed, and then be able clearly to unfold them to otliers. For this purpose schools of an elevated character were required, in order to discover those who possessed the natural talents for this work, and then, by appropriate cul- ture, to fit them for the exercise of their talents, in those departments of influence, whether at the bar, on the bench, or in halls of legislation, where they would render the greatest amount of service to their country. Such an institution was Exeter Academy. It has had the honor of assisting" in the education of many who have risen to high distinction in the various professions, and who have wielded a vast in- fluence over the destinies of their country. Dr. Phillips, by its endowment, rendered essential ser- vice to the interests of the new republic. To this school young Webster was sent. The 24th of May, 1796, was an important day at Elms Farm. There had been more than usual bus- tle in the house ; clothes were collected, bundles tied ; children were running to and fro, asking ques- tions and making all kinds of remarks — the reason of which was, Daniel was getting ready to leave for the academy. As Mr. Webster had no chaise, or other light carriage adapted to the journey, it was to be made on horseback. It so happened that one 52 A PARTING SCENE. of the neighbors was desirous of sending a horse and side saddle to tlie very town where tlie acatlemy was situated, for some female friend there, to ride back to SaHsbury. It was agreed that this horse should be used by tlie young student. When the time of departure arrived, the two horses were brought to the door, and Daniel, who was dressed in a new suit of homespun materials, was lifted upon the one intended for him. Imai»ine tlie scene ! The atfectionate mother, who has all along had a presentiment of Daniel's greatness, stands at the door, with mingled expressions of solicitude and joy depicted U])on her countenance : she has given abun- dant good advice, and sealed it with not a few burn- ing kisses. Around are the other children and members of the family, some holding the horses, others adjusting the bundles, and all abandoning their mirthfulness, and becoming more serious as the moment of departure arrives. The last shake of the hand and farewell kiss are given, and the two travellers set out on their journey, — little Dan being perched upon the lady's side saddle, where he was destined to become, before night, more fatigued than he had ever been before. After a romantic, but tiresome ride, along the banks of rivers, through valleys, and amid lofty hills and inountains, on the third day they arrived at Exeter. A boarding place was obtained for Daniel in the family of Mr. Clif- WEBSTER BEFORE DR. ABBOTT. 53 ford, with whom his father had some acquaintance. The d«y after their arrival he was taken to the academy. Benjamin Abbott, LL. D., was the prin- cipah He was a gentleman of the old school, and felt it important to maintain great dignity and a regard to form, in the administration of the school. All official duties were performed with pompous cer- emony. When Colonel Webster stated the object of his visit to the doctor, who was seated in a large hall connected with the academy, that important personage placed upon his head a cocked hat, in order to make a suitable impression upon the lad, and then said, — " Well, sir, let the young gentleman be presented for examination." The slender-looking boy modestly came forward, and, though every thing was new and strange, he submitted to his examination with great self-pos- session. • " What is your age 1 " asked the venerable teacher. " Fourteen," was the reply. " Take this Bible, my lad, and read the twenty- second chapter of Luke," at the same time pointing it out to him. This chapter contains an account of the institu- tion of the Lord's supper, Christ's sufferings in Gethsemane, the betrayal, the seizure, and the ex- 54 ins DIFFIDENCK. ami nation of Christ. Its cliiTereiit parts required a different style of reading-. None but a *rood reader could do tlie cliapter justice. Daniel took the book and read with so much distinctness of enunciation, correctness of emphasis, and skill in the modtda- tions of iiis voice, as to brinht sro to colle":e, he had expressed an unwillingness, and had dis?:uaded his father from his purpose ; what would Daniel Webster have been now 1 He might possibly, by the force of his natural talents, have excelled in any kind of business to which he would have devoted himself; but is it probable that he would ever have been a senator of the United States, or a member of the president's cabinet ? Indeed, on one occasion, — as we shall presently relate, — his own father assigns as a reason why Jie was not elected a member of COMMENDABLE RETALIATION. 63 Congress, instead of his successful competitor, was because of his want of e'ducation. During tiie time that Webster was with Dr. Woods he always gave satisfactory recitations. But he found it so easy to learn that the preparation of his lessons occupied but a short time ; he consequent- ly had much leisure, which he spent in the indul- gence of his love of nature, in fishing and gunning. With rod or gun in hand, he spent hour after hour in wandering along the streams, or rambling over the fields. His teacher, who had but little sympathy for these employments, administered to him a rebuke for his wandering habits, tempering it, however, with compliments for his quickness in learning. He was fearful that this fondness for out-door sports might exert an injurious influence upon the other students. Webster felt this rebuke, and determined to retaliate in a way that would tax the doctor's patience. His' lesson for the next day was a hundred lines in Vir- gil. He applied himself diligently, and occupied a good portion of tlie night, not in sim])ly learning those hundred lines, but in committing to memory- many more. At the recitation next morning, he despatched the hundred lines, for whicli he received the commendation of his teacher. " I can recite some more," said the student. " Go on, then," was the reply. Another hundred lines were repeated. The teacher was equally surprised and gratified. 64 TlfE BETTER WAY. *' But T have not done yet," said Web. principle he put into Mr. Webster's hand Coke upon Littleton. It was a hard work for a student to mas- ter ; but Mr. Webster, nothing daunted by its diffi- culties, pored over it six hours daily. Although at first it was like entering a primeval forest, where the 108 WEBSTER S PROFICIENCY. traveller has to cut his own way, he believed that, by- patient and persevering industry, he would in time see light on the other side ; that by mastering each difficulty as it occurred, as the woodman fells trees singly, he w^ould, before long, successfully cut his way through them all. Still he always regarded that method of introducing a boy to the study of the science as a mistake. He has expressed himself clearly upon this subject in the following language : — " A boy of twenty, with no previous knowledge of such subjects, cannot understand Coke. It is folly to set him upon such an author. There are propo- sitions in Coke so abstract, and distinctions so nice, and doctrines embracing so many distinctions and qualifications, that it requires an effort not only of a mature mind, but of a mind both strong and mature, to understand him. Why disgust and discourage a young man by telling him that he must break into his profession through such a wall as this." He soon got upon other books, which he studied with greater pleasure. Besides the attention which at that period he paid to law, he also found time to read Hume's History of England, Shakspeare's plays, and the Latin classics. Such was the pro- ficiency which he made in his profession, that, during the second year of his studies, he was quite a sound lawyer. General Lyman says, " When clients came for advice, he [Mr. Webster] heard, with Mr. Thomp- HE MINDS HIS BUSINESS. 109 son, a full statement of the facts, and thereupon he, again and again, wrote out opinions, which Mr. Thompson, on perusal, adopted, signed, and deliv- ered as his own. He also displayed great tact in conducting the lawsuits pending, in marshalling the testimony, and in eliciting from witnesses the facts to be proved on the trials. Many men, not profound lawyers, have become eminent in their profession, and have paved their way to wealth, by their skill in conducting a cause before it was brought to trial." It is evident that, as when in college, so when study- in"- law, Mr. Webster minded his business. This was one ffreat secret of his success. Let American youth remember this. At this period, Mr. Webster was not a one-idea man ; he did not devote himself exclusively to the law. He read history and poetry, and went on excursions of pleasure; but with all these other employments, he still minded Ms business; he kept his recreations within due limits. The great difficulty with not a few young men is, that, in order to find time for amusement, they neglect important duties ; they have not acquired that discipline, or formed such habits, that they can, with authority, say to the attractive pleasures of life, " Thus far shall ye come, but no farther." Being governed more by their own passions than by established principle, it becomes extremely easy for them to throw aside their books, or abandon their employment, whenever 110 THE TURNPIKE CASE. an opportunity occurs for the enjoyment of some agreeable amusement. Such may reach mediocrity, but there is little probabiUty of their attaining to a high degree of excellence, in any profession. An incident is related which shows that, whilst Mr. Webster was a student of law, he developed the same promptness, decision, and energy, which were such conspicuous traits of character, after he had entered upon public life. • A Capt.iin Kimball had entered into contract to open a turn{)ike. This contract was based upon subscriptions for the object by gentlemen of wealth, a number of 'whom were residents of Portsmouth. After the work had been in progress for some time, these gentlemen were called upon to pay their sub- scriptions : they refused. This at once created em- • barrassment. It was known from the first that money would be greatly needed, and their subscrip- tions had been looked to as the source whence it was to be obtained. When, therefore, they declined ful- filling their own obhgations, perplexing disappoint- ment was the result. Captain Kimball regarded himself as greatly wronged, and applied to Mr. Thompson for legal advice. Mr. Thompson imme- diately addressed the delinquent subscribers letters, earnestly urging them to pay their subscriptions. The letters were unheeded. He then sent to them his oldest student, Mr. Noyes, to remonstrate per- Webster's decision. lU sonally with them, but with no better success When the failure of Mr. Noyes's visit was made known to Mr. Webster, he said, " Let me go to Portsmoutli ; I will bring you the moneys Mr. Thompson conckided to grant liis request. Having obtained the necessary authority, he set out ; he drove his horse with sucli speed that when he reached Portsmouth it was covered with foam. Without loss of time he called on •some of the subscribers, and sent word to others, that he had come to receive their subscriptions, and the money must be paid. He then despatched a messenger to the sheriff of the county, asking his presence immediately. He next sat down to a table, and very coolly commenced making out writs for the apprehension of every sub- scriber. When the dehnquents understood the bear- ing of these preparatory measures, they became alarmed. They saw they had a hard customer to deal with, and proposed that they have a conversa- tion upon the subject; it was granted. When the company assembled, Mr. Webster again stated to them the object of his visit, and the grounds on which he made his demands, and then, in a manner in which dignity, courtesy, and authority were blended together, he coolly informed them that he would wait until a certain hour (which he specified) for the money, and that if by that time it was not paid, he would put the writs into the hands of the 112 DELINQUENT SUBSCKIBERS. sheriff, and have them all imincdiatcly arrested. This produced tlie desired effect. At that time imprison- ment for debt had not been abohshed in New Hamp- shire. The dehnquents, tlierefore, knew what they had to expect if tliey persisted in their refusal. The appointed hour arrived ; Mr. Webster's horse was ready for him to mount ; the sheriff was on hand to receive and execute tlie writs ; all things were ready for the apprehension of t4ie guilty. They now saw that the subject could neither be trifled with nor postponed ; the crisis was reached ; the money was paid over to Mr. Webster as fast as he could count and receipt for it. Having by his energy and tact ac- complished his object, he returned home and reported his success, to the astonishment and great gratifica- tion of those immediately concerned. W^hen any enterprise which will involve a con- siderable outlay of money is projected, it is a com- mon practice to receive subscriptions for that object, and then commence the work before those subscriptions are paid. It follows, as a necessary consequence, that if any of those subscriptions are withdrawn, those per- sons who are practically engaged in the enterprise will be subjected to embarrassments to the full extent of the amount thus withdrawn, and will either have to raise the funds from some other source, or else cre- ate a debt ; when, if they could have foreseen this result, they would have done nothing towards the SUBSCRIPTIONS SHOULD BE PAID. 113 execution of the project until the funds subscribed had been paid in. This is unjust: when a person subscribes towards a railroad, a canal, a church, or any benevolent cause, he is in honor and in justice bound to pay that subscription. He should regard it as sacred as a promissory note ; it has all the ele- ments of such note ; it is a promise to pay a certain specified sum for a certain specified object, and a man has no more right to refuse payment than he has to refuse the payment of any other pecuniary obligation. This obligation is, if possible, strength- ened, when, hy virtue of Ms promise, the object for whicli he subscribed is commenced, and debts con- tracted. He encouraged the enterprise, and he is justly held respoflsible to the full extent of that en- courao-ement. These remarks are made because it is sometimes the case, that individuals who have subscribed towards an object afterwards change tlieir minds, and refuse payment. Such instances have occurred in benevolent and religious objects. As there is no danger that the law will be resorted to in order to enforce payment of such subscriptions, they can be repudiated with impunity. But let it be remem- bered that such conduct is disreputable, and by every man of honor is condemned. To every young person, whose eye may fall upon this page, would we say, Never subscribe towards an 8 114 MR. WEBSTER REMOVES TO BOSTON. object unless you are convinced of its importance ; but ichcn your promise is once given , sacicdly re- deem it. After remaining in Mr. Thompson's office two years, Mr. Webster desired a change, where he could acquire a knowledge of other departments of law besides those which were pursued in the office of Mr. T. For this purpose he removed, in July, 1804, to Boston, and placed himself under the in- struction of that distinguished counsellor, Hon. Christopher Gore. His opportunities for acquiring broader views of his profession were here enjoyed. He had access to an extensive and valuable library, and the privilege of attending the sessions of the Supreme and Circuit Courts, where questions of the gravest importance were discussed by the most learned and eminent lawyers. He was not idle wliile attending these sessions ; but, v/ith pen in hand, he carefully watched the opinions of the learned judges, and made them matters of record. He continued in Mr. Gore's office nearly a year, where he studied with diligence the principles of the common and municipal law, the laws of nations, and the science of special pleading. In addition to his laborious professional studies, he managed to secure time for a wide range of general reading. Being now regarded as qualified for admittance to the bar, his teacher, Hon. Mr. Gore, introduced ADMITTED TO THE BAR. 115 him to court, and made a motion that he be admit- ted to practice. It is greatly to the credit of Mr. Webster that he had produced such a favorable im- pression upon his teacher, that when he made this motion for the admission of his young student to the bar, he accompanied it with some highly com- mendatory remarks. Mr. Everett says, " He dvv^elt with emphasis on the remarkable attainments and uncommon promise of his pupil, and closed with a prediction of his future eminence." It is sometimes the case, that the general estima- tion in which an individual is held is far higher than that which he enjoys amongst his more intimate as- sociates. In respect to such, " 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view ; " and this enchantment is dispelled in proportion as the distance diminishes. With Mr. Webster it was otherwise. Those who knew him best cherished for him the highest esteem. Admiration for his talents and acquirements increased in proportion to one's familiar acquaintance with him. By his admission to the bar he was fairly launched upon the world. Where the winds and waves of fickle fortune would carry him, — what shoals and quicksands he would escape, or against what rocks he would dash, — how little did he know ! He doubtless cherished certain aspirations, and probably IIG HIS ASPIRATIONS. bad a course of life marked out in liis owu mind, wliici) he expected to pursue. It would be interest- ing, if we could learn uliat these ex})ectations were, to see in what respects tiiey were met, and wherein be was disappointed by the events of bis subse- quent life. ir CHAPTEPv VIII.- Has a Clerkship offered him. — Declines it. — His Father dis- pleased. — Pays his Father's Debts, — His filial Attachment. — Some treat their Parents unkindly. — Mr. Webster's first Plea. — He astonishes every body. — Controlling' Witnesses. — The Detection. — The Character of his Arguments. — Webster and Mason. — " Import a young Earthquake." Mr. Webster's stamina of character was severely tested by an incident vvliich occurred about the time that he was admitted to the bar. His father at that period was one of the judges of the County Court in New Hampshire, and 4;hough not a man of liberal education, he was highly respected for his strong common sense, his sterling integrity, and his quick perception of the particular points at issue in the various cases of litigation that came before him. The clerkship of that court, which was then va- cant, was tendered to his son. In some respects it was a desirable position. Mr. March, in his spirited account of the affair, says, — " The office was worth fifteen hundred dollars per annum, which was in those days, and in that neigh- borhood, a competency — or rather absolute wealth. Mr. Webster himself considered it a great prize, and was eager to accept it. He weighed the ques- 1J7 118 FILIAL DUTY AND PERSONAL AMBITION. tion in his mind. On the one side he saw immediate comfort ; on the otiicr, at the best, a doubtful strug- gle. By its acceptance he made sure his own good condition, and, what was nearer to his heart, that of his family. By its refusal he condemned both him- self and them to an uncertain and probably harass- ing future. Whatever aspirations he might have cherished of professional distinction, he was willing cheerfully to relinquish, to promote the immediate welfare of those he held most dear. " But Mr. Gore peremptorily and vehemently interposed his dissent. He urged every argument against the purpose. He exposed its absurdity and its inconsequence. He appealed to the ambition of his pupil — once a clerk,- l^e said, he always would be a clerk — there would be no step upwards. He attacked him, too, on the side of his family affec- tion, telling him that he would be far more able to gratify his friends from his professional labors than in the clerkship. 'Go on,' he said, 'and finish your studies ; you are poor enough, but there are greater evils than poverty ; live on no man's favor ; what bread you do eat, let it be the bread of inde- pendence. Pursue your profession ; make yourself useful to your friends, and a little formidable to your enemic3s, and you have nothing to fear.' "I^'lverted from his design by arguments like these, it still remained to Mr. Webster to acquaint HE DECLINES OFFICE. 119 his father with his determination, and satisfy him of its propriety. He felt this would be no easy taskj as his father had set his heart so much upon the office ; but he determined to go home immediately, and give him in full the reasons of his conduct. " It was midwinter, and he looked round for a country sleigh, — for stage coaches at that time were things unknown in the centre of New Hampshire, — and finding one that had come down to market, he took passage therein, and in two or three days was set down at his fjither's door. (The same journey is made now in four hours by steam.) It was eveii- mg when he arrived. I have heard him tell the story of the interview. His father was sitting before the fire, and received him with manifest joy. He # looked feebler than he had ever appeared, but his countenance lighted up on seeing his clcrh stand be- fore him in good health and spirits. He lost no time in alluding to the great appointment — said how spontaneously it had been made — how kindly the chief justice proposed it — with what unanimity all assented, &c. During this speech it can be well imagined how embarrassed Mr. Webster felt, com- pelled, as he thought, from a conviction of duty, to disappoint his father's sanguine expectations. Nev- ertheless he commanded his countenance and voice, so as to reply in a sufficiently assured manner. He spoke gayly about the office ; expressed his great 120 HIS mother's prediction^. obligation to their lionors, and liis intention to write them a most respectful letter — if he could have consented to record any body's judgments, he should have been proud to have recorded their honors', &.c. He proceeded in this strain till his father exhibited signs of amazement, it having occurred to him, finally, that his son might .all the while be serious. * Do you intend to decline .this office 1 ' he said at length. ' Most certainly,' replied his son ; ' I can- not think of doing otherwise. I mean to use my tongue in the courts, not my pen ' — to be an actor, not a register of other men's actions.' *' For a moment .Judge Webster seemed angry. He rocked his chair slightly, a flash went over his eye, softened by age, but even then black as jet ; but it immediately disappeared, and his countenance regained its usual serenity. Parental love and par- tiality could not, after all, but have been gratified with the son's devotion to an honorable and distin- guished profession, and seeming confidence of suc- cess in it. ' Well, my son,' said Judge Webster, finally, ' your mother has always said that you would come to something or nothing — she was not sure which. I think you are now about settling that doubt for her.' The judge never afterwards spoke to his son on the subject." The account of this interesting event, as given by General Lyman, in his " Memorials," contains A BENEFACTOR. 121 some additional facts, which ought not to be omitted here. We give them in his own language : — " The difficulty of satisfying his father that the course he had resolved to pursue was the best, now arose in his mind. To aid Mr. Webster and his brother Ezekiel in obtaining an education, their father had resorted to borrowing money, and there was a mortgage for it ta be paid. A debt was a sore encumbrance, more so in those days than at the pres- ent time. Ezekiel Webster was doing his best, and was then in Boston, teaching a select school,^ earn money towards discliarging that mortgage. Edward Everett, since so highly distinguished, was, by the by, one of his pupils. The desire to relieve his excellent father from all pecuniary responsibility on his account, now that he had the power to do it, was of course very great ; bht the sacrifice of his future prospects was in the scale weighing against the clerk- ship and its emoluments. In this dilemma, his friend, Mr. Rufus Green Emery, — be it mentioned to the credit of his fame, — on hearing what the difficulty was, put gold into Mr. Webster's pocket, and sent him home to see his father personally on the subject. I have heard Mr. Webster tell the story, and it is a pity that I should mar it. On arriving at home, he found his father sitting in his easy chair, not know- ing one word of what had passed in Boston, or of his intentions as to the clerkship. He received his sou 122 PAYS HIS father's debts. affectionately, and with a maimer that seemed to say, * Our anxieties are now ended.' His father lost no time in telling him how ' readily and how handsomely his request had been complied with. I had not,' said he to his son, ' more than mentioned it before it was done.' 'His eyes,' said Mr. Webster, ' were brimful of the tears of gratitude, as he told it to me.' ^ "'Judge,' said he, ' of my father's disappoint- ment and manifest vexation, when I told him I must resigtPthe office. He could not at first believe his own ears. He of course wanted to know the reason. 1 told him I could do better ! I laid down the gold to pay the mortgage, and all the debts on my own and my brother's account. I wrote a letter thanking the judges for the honor they had done me, and most respectfully resigned* the office ^o which they had appointed me. Thereupon I hastened back to Boston, where the court was sitting at which 1 was licensed to practise. I then for the first time held up my hand and took the oaths of office.' " Mr. Gore, for the advice which he then gave, and Mr. Emery, for his removal of pecuniary embarrass- ment, merit the thanks of the whole country. That advice and assistance essentially aided in making Mr. Webster the great American statesman that he | was. If he had accepted a clerkship in court, he might have died an incumbent of the office. He 1 \ SETTLES IN BOSCAWEN. 123 would no doubt have been punctual, faithful, and industrious. He would have been a model clerk, but he probably would never have moved senates, nor negotiated treaties. Here again" we may see the intervention of divine Providence. Why did he happen to be a' student of Mr. Gore ? Why did that appointment of clerk reach him before he. had left his studies and returned home ? Why did Mr. Gore cherish the views and give the advice he did 1 Why, too, did Mr. Emery step forward and remove the strongest temptation to acceptance out of the way ? Why this combination of circumstances, ex- cept that a kind Providence interfered 1 Had Mr. Gore's advice been the opposite of what it was, or had Mr. Emery been indifterent to the subject, vi'ho can tell what would have been the results ? After his admission to the bar, Mr. Webster went to Amhei'st, in New Hampshire, where his father was holding court, and accompanied hini home. It had been his intention to open an office in Ports- mouth. That being a large town, and possessing some foreign commerce, it presented a promising field for practice. But filial duty prevented. The infirmities of age were now creeping upon his father. His brother Ezekiel was absent, and, it being desi- rable that one of the sons should be near the home- stead, Mr. Webster relinquished th^idea of settling down at Portsmouth, and opened an office in Bos- 124 HIS FILIAL ATTACHMENT. cawen, near the residence of his father, and com- menced practice as a country lawyer. This was not an encouraging field, but the reason of its selec- tion developed a beautiful trait in Mr. Webster's character. Ilis attachment to his parents was strong and tender. Althougii he was now of age, and had a right to go where he cliose to seek his fortune, yet his filial affection promjited him to forego tliat riffht, and to settle down near the homestead, that he might cheer the hearts of his parents in their de- cline of life, and be at hand to render any service which they might need. No one denies that young children ought to love and reverence their parents ; but, alas ! examples are too numerous of those who seem to act as if, when they reached their majority, they outgrew filial obligation — as if from that pe- riod their language to their parents was, " It is a gift by whatsoever thou mightest be profited of me " — it is a gratuity, a favor, and not the dis charge of an obhgation. Their pnrents are neg- lected, their feelings set at nought, tlieir wishes dis- regarded. They are considered and treated as an encumbrance ; their death approaches too slowly ; and when it occurs, tlieir affectionate children are relieved of a great burden. With Mr. Webster an opposite class of feelings predominated. Affection- ate attachment to his parents was a prominent trait of his character. For their comfort he sacrificed, HIS APPEARANCE IN COURT. 125 for the time being, whatever emoluments he might have received in a larger but more distant field of professional labor. He has said in a letter, " My opening an office in Boscavven was that I might be near him," i. e., his father. The sign which he then hung out, with " D. Webster, Attorney," upon it, is said to be still in existence. By some of his ad- mirers it would be highly prized, and treasured as a sacred memento of him whose name it bears. Down to the time that Mr. Webster commenced the practice of law, he was a thin and sickly-looking young man. His appearance in this respect was very different from what it was in the later periods of his life. It was not at all adapted to prepossess his hearers in his favor, if we except his eloquent eye and expressive countenance. His pliysical con- stitution was by no means the appropriate represen- tation of his mental character. Under his outward weakness was concealed great intellectual strength, of which the following incident furnishes a striking illustration. The first case which he ever plead before a jury was of a civil character. It was one of considerable interest to the parties concerned, and created no small amount of public excitement. Colonel William Webster, a remote relative of Dan- iel, was the sheriff of the county. After the trial was over, the sheriff stated to a friend, that he thought, " when Mr. Webster rose, that he would 126 HIS FIRST PLEA. not stand up long ; I was ashamed to see so lean and feeble a young man come into court bearing the name of Webster ; but he astonished every body with his eloquence, learning, and powers of reasoning." lie exhibited such a familiar acquaintance with the j)rinciples of law, such skill in marshalling his facts, such ingenuity in statinji" them in the most fa- forable manner for his client, ajid such power of analysis and argument, that from this time he was never in want of business. Notwithstanding his thin and meagre appearance, he produced a decidedly favorable eftect upon those who heard him ; his strength was mental, not physical. Under a feeble exterior he concealed the elements of an intellectual giant. This first plea of Mr. Webster was heard by his father, and it was the only one to wliich he had the pledsure to listen. The old gentleman, who, as we have said, was then one of the judges of New Hampshire, died soon after, but not before he had heard predictions of his son's professional suc- cess, and had seen sufficient evidence of his genius to justify their probability. It was an interesting moment to them both, when the son, after having spent years in his collegiate and legal studies, was, by tliis first professional essay, to show his father the " first fruits " of his long and laborious training. It was doubtless to Mr. Webster a pleasant recollection all liis subsequent life, that his THE TAVERN BILL. 127 father was favored witli the ojDportunitj of hearing liim at least once before he died ; and the father must have accounted it no common privilege that he was permitted to witness this earlj effort of a beloved, son in the new and difficult sphere which he had chosen. This first argument of Mr. Webster before a jury is said to have been founded upon a tavern bill amounting only to about twenty-four dollars. It was an encouraging circumstance that the verdict ren- dered was in favor of his client, the jury awarding him seventeen dollars. Another case which he conducted at the same term of court he lost, the jury returning a verdict for an amount somewhat larger than the above against his client. This was in 1805 ; the next year he exhibited in a greater degree his abilities as a counsellor and a pleader. At that time an argu- ment which he delivered made such an impression upon a lad of some ten or twelve years of age, that though nearly fifty years have passed away, he re- members the effect which it produced upon those who heard it, and the strong commendation which it re- ceived from them. " I recollect," he writes, " with perfect distinctness, the sensation which the speech produced upon the multitude.* There was a great throng there, and they were loud in his praise. As * B. F. French, Esq. 128 KNACK OF TALKING. soon as tlie adjournment took place, the lawyers dropped into my father's office, and thete the whole hearing of the young man underwent a discussion. It was agreed on all hands that he had made an ex- traordinary effort, when , by way of ac- counting for it, said, ' Ah, Webster has been study- ing in Boston, and has got a knack of talk- ing ; but let him take it rough and tumble a while here in tlie bush, and we shall see whether he will do so much better than other folks.' " After he had fairly entered into practice, Mr. Web- ster rose rapiclly in his profession. " It is stated in tlie Life of Chief Justice Smith,, that in 1806, before Mr. Webster had been admitted as a counsellor in the Superior Court, — and of course before he was entitled to address the jury, — being engaged as attorney in a cause of no great pe- cuniary importance, but of some interest and some intricacy, he was ' allowed to examine the witnesses, and briefly to state his case, both upon the law and the facts. Having done this, he handed his brief to Mr. Wilson, the senior counsel, for the full argu- ment of the matter. But the chief justice had no- ticed him, and on leaving the court house said to a member of the bar, that he had never before met such a young man as that.'' " * It is often the case that clients endeavor to con- * Joel Parker, LL. D, CONTROLLING WITNESSES. 129 trol the evidence which their witnesses are to give in their case. Sometimes this interference is unduly- excessive, and recoils with tremendous force upon him who has practised it. Such an instance occurred, during the early part of Mr. Webster's career. As he occasionally narrated it for the amusement of his friends, we will give it in his own words : — " Soon after commencing the practice of my pro- fession at Portsmouth, I was waited on by an old acquaintance of my father's, resident in an adjacent county, who wished to engage my professional ser- vices. Some years previous, he had rented a farm, with the clear understanding that he could purchase it, after the expiration of liis lease, for one thousand dollars. ^ Finding the said farm productive, he soon determined to own it ; and, as he laid aside money for the purchase, he was prompted to improve what he felt certain he would possess. But his landlord, finding the property greatly increased in value, cool- ly refused to receive the one thousand dollars, when in due time it was presented ; and when his extor- tionate demand of double that sum was refused, he at once brought an action of ejectment. The man had but the one thousand dollars, and an unblem- ished reputation ; yet I willingly undertook his case. "The opening argument of the plaintiff's attorney left me little ground for hope. He stated that he could prove that my client hired the farm, but there 9 13D THE DETECTION. was not a word in the lease about the sale, nor was there a word spoken about tlie sale wl>en the lease was si<^ned, as he should prove by a witness. In short, his was a clear case, and I left the court room at dinner time with feeble hopes of success. By chance, I sat at table next a niewly-commissioned militia t»fFicer, and a brother lawyer began to joke him about his lack of martial knowledire. 'Indeed,' he jocosely remarked, ' you should write dow.n the orders, and get old W. to beat them into your sconce, as I saw him this morning", with a paper in his hand, teaching something to young M. in the court-house entry.' " Can it be, I thought, that old W., the plaintiff in the case, was instructing young M., who 'was his reliable witness ? "After dinner the court was reopened, and M. was put on the stand. He was examined by the plaiiitiif's counsel, and certainly told a clear, plain story, repudiating all knowledge of any agreement to sell. When he had concluded, the opposite coun- sel, with a triumphant glance, turned to me, and asked me if I was satisfied. ' Not quite,' I replied. " I had noticed a piece of paper protruding from M.'s pocket, and hastily approaching him, I seized it before he had the least idea of my intention. 'Now,' I asked, 'tell me if this paper does not de- tail the story you have so clearly told, and is it not CHARACTER OF HIS PLEAS. 131 false ? ' The witness hung bis head with shame ; and when the paper was found to be what I had supposed, and in the very handwriting of old W., he lost his case at once. Nay, there was such a storm of indignation against him, that he soon removed to the west. "Years afterwards, visiting New Hampshire, I was the guest of my professional brethren at a pub- lic dinner ; and towards the close of the festivities, I was asked if I would solve a great doubt by answer- ing a question. ' Certainly.' ' Well, then, Mr. Webster, we have often wondered how you knew what was in M.'s pocket.' " During his practice of the law, Mr. Webster had many cases of great importance committed to him ; he very early took a high stand in his profes- sion ; he became the acknowledged leader of the bar ; he was opposed by the most distinguished law- yers of which the country could boast, yet always maintained an honorable position among them. He was so simple in the statement of his propositions, so forcible in his argument, so clear in his illustrations, there was such an honest, common-sense straightfor- wardness about him, which prompted him to march, without any circuitousness, directly to his object, that he never failed of producing a deep impression upon the mind of a jury ; he addressed them as men ca- pable of understanding an argument, as men not to 132 ANECDOTES. be borne away by exciting appeals to their passions, but to be moved only by a calm, clear, and logical address to their judgment. Such addresses he gave them. He reasoned to convince, and was suc- cessful. To show how highly his legal abilities and powers of oratory were estimated by his contemporaries, the following anecdotes are given : — Mr. Webster practised law in Portsmouth nearly nine years, and during that time one of his best friends, and also his most prominent competitor, was the distinguished Jeremiah Mason. On one occasion a gentleman called upon the former for the purpose of securing his services m a lawsuit ; but Mr. Web- ster was compelled to decline the engagement, but recommended his client to Mr. Mason. " What do you think of the abihties of Mr. Ma- son ? " said the gentleman. " I think him second to no man in the country," replied Mr. Webster. The gentleman called upon Mr. Mason, and hav- ing secured his promise of assistance, he thought he would gratify his curiosity, and therefore questioned liim as to his opinion of Mr. Webster. " He's the very devil, in any case whatsoever," replied Mr. Mason ; " and if he's against you^ I beg to he ex- cused.^^ On another occasion, a gentleman of Nantucket ANECDOTES. ' 133 accosted a friend by saying, " I have wished to see you for some days, for I am in trouble, and wish your friendly advice." " What can it be 1 " replied the other. " Why, I have a lawsuit, and Webster is opposed to me : what shall T do ? " " My advice is," was the answer, " that your only chance of es- cape is, to send to Smyrna and impoi't a young earth- quake,''^ The extravagant character of these replies was prompted by the high opinion which was entertained of his commanding talents. 4 CHAPTER IX. A dreadful Deed. — General Alarm.— Attack of two Foot- pads Hatch's Disclosure. — Grant's Letters. — Grant ar- rested. — The Knapps arrested. — The Confession. — The Plot explained. — Palmer imprisoned. — Crowninshield's Signal. — Palmer's Fear. — The Trial. — Mr. Webster's Plea. — The Wicked insnare themselves. — Extraordinary Things. — Avoid bad Company. Although it dues not fall in with the object of this vohime to give an account of the various cases which Mr. Webster conducted through court, yet titere was one so pecuhar, so exciting, so full of | tragic interest, so illustrative of various conflicting moral principles, and which furnished an occasion for one of his most impressive pleas, that we are un- willins: to omit its recital here. In the city of Salem, in the State of Massachu- setts, is a house which is pointed out to strangers as a place where an act of thrilling atrocity was a few years since committed. It is in Essex Street, near Newbury Street, with a garden extending in the rear towards Brown Street, this latter street being parallel with Essex Street.* * The facts connected with this murder are derived from Hon. Benjamin Merrill's Narrative. 134 A HORRID DISCOVERY. 135 In this house resided a very wealthy, retired mer- chant of Salem, eighty-two years of age, wliose name was Joseph White, Esq. He had neither wife nor children ; his family consisted of himself, his housekeeper, Mrs. Beckford, who was also his niece, and two servants, a man and woman. Early on the morning of the 7th of April, 1830, his servant man discovered that the back win- dow of the east parlor was open, and that a plank was resting against it, as if to furnish assistance in entering the house. His suspicions being excited that robbers had visited them, he immediately went to the parlor, but found all the furniture in its proper place, and no evidence of any person having been there. After informing the maid servant of his dis- coveries, he visited Mr. White's chamber. As he entered the back door of the old gentleman's cham ber, he noticed that the other door, which opened into the front entry, was not closed. He now ap- proached the bed, and there beheld a sight which explained all the previous discoveries. The bed- clothes were drenched with blood, and Mr. White was dead. The servant was horror stricken ; he and the maid servant were the only other persons in the house. Mrs. Beckford was on a visit to her daugh- ter's at Wenham. The alarm was instantly given. A crowd collected ; the coroner and physicians were sent for, who, upon examination, found thirteen deep 136 GREAT EXCITEMENT. stabs on the body, made by some .sharp instrument, and a heavy bh)\v on tlie left ten) pie ; altliough the skin was not broken, yet the^ skull was fractured. Gold coin and silver, to a considerable amount, were in his chamber, yet none of it was taken. With the exception of the bed, the room presented its usual a]>pearance. Nothing was missed from the house, although it contained much silver plate, which might have been stolen, if plunder had been the object of the assassin. This deliberate, dreadful tragedy, committed, as it was, upon a well-known, respectable citizen, in a densely-settled part of the town, produced a deep and wide-spread excitement. So apparently motive- less was the deed, that all felt exposed to similar danger. Neglected windows and doors were made more secure throujrhout the town. Watch doirs were obtained, and firearms were bouirht to increase the safety of the people. No one felt secure. Who was the criminal, or for what purpose the horrid deed had been committed, no one knew. The ex- citement was the more intense from the impenetrable mystery which enshrouded the whole subject. In addition to large rewards being offered by the heirs of Mr. White, by the town, and by the governor of the state, for the detection of the murderer, tiie citi- zens appointed a committee of vigilance, twenty- seven in number, who were to employ every means ATTEMPTED ROBBERY. 137 in their power to discover the perpetrator of this dreadful crime. During the excitement of the commimitj upon the subject, it was pubhshed in the newspapers, that a daring attempt at highway robbery had been made on Joseph J. Knapp, ,Tr., and John Francis Knapp, in Wenham, on the evening of the 27th of April. They stated before the committee of investigation, that when near Wenham Pond, on their way to Salem in a chaise, three men ap- proached them, one of whom stopped the horse by seizing the bridle ; the others then approached, one on each side, and attempted to seize a trunk which was in the chaise. The Knapps of course resisted. Frank made a thrust at one of them with a sword cane, and Joseph struck the other in the face with the but-end of the whip. This decided resistance compelled them to ret-reat. After giving a loud whistle, as if it were a signal to their accomplices, they fled, being pursued a short distance, but un- successfully, by Frank Knapp. Their size, appear- ance, and dress were described with considerable minuteness. In the account of this occurrence, as stated in the Salem papers at the time, it was re- marked that the gentlemen thus attacked were " well known, and no one questioned their respectability or veracity." This event increased the excitement. It appeared as if there were a gang of robbers 138 DISCLOSURES OF HATCH. pro\vlinw night, or suffer the painful consequences. N. Claxton, 4th." The murdered gentleman was uncle to this Mr. White, and had bequeathed to him the largest part of his property. Both of these letters were put into the Salem post office on Sunday evening, May I6th. After mature deliberation, the committee of vigi- lance came to the conclusion that the letter signed " Charles Grant, .Tr.," might, if followed up, result in important disclosures. They therefore sent a judicious messenger to Prospect, in Maine. This messenger visited the postmaster there, confidentially communicajpd to him his business, and then sent for an officer. All things being ready, he deposited a letter directed to Charles Grant, Jr., in the post office, and then remained there, waiting for Grant to call for it. It was not long before a man came and asked for Grant's letter, when the officer stepped forward and arrested him. Upon examination, it appeared that his real name was Palmer, and that 144 THE PLOT REVEALED. he resided in the neijjliboriiin: town of Belfast. AI- though he was a young m.an of genteel appearance, his character was bad. He had served out a term in the state's prison of Maine. When informed of the reason of his arrest, and of the suspicious char- acter of his letter to Knnpp, he saw that he might justly he suspected ot^cing accessory to the mur- der, and therefore, to clear himself, he revealed all tliat he knew of the aflair. He stated that he had been a companion of R. Crowninshield, .Tr., and George Crowninshield ; that he had spent a portion of the winter witli them in Danvers and Salem, un- der the assumed name of Carr — part of this time he had been concealed in their father's house in Danvers. He further stated that, on the 2d of April, he saw, from the windows of the house, Frank Knapp, and a young man named Allen, ride up to the house ; that George and Frank walked away together, and Richard and Allen together. When they returned, George told Richard that., Frank wished them to kill Mr. White, and^that J. J. Knapp, Jr., would pay one thousand dollars for the job. He also said that various methods of execut- ing the murder were proposed, and that they want- ed him to be concerned in it, but that he declined. George said that the housekeeper would be absent at the time ; that the design of J. J. Knapp, Jr., in projecting the murder, was to destroy Mr. White's KNAPP'S CONFESSION. 145 will, because it gave the largest amount of the prop- erty to Stephen White ; that the will was first to be destroyed by J. J. Knapp, Jr., and this he could do by obtaining from the housekeeper the key of an iron chest in which it was kept. He also stated, that Frank Knapp called again the same day, in a chaise, and rode off again with Richard Crownin- shield, and that he. Palmer, spent the night, on which the murder was committed, at the Halfway House, in Lynn. The important information communicated by Palmer was at once transmitted to the committee of vigilance, and resulted in the apprehension of Joseph J. Knapp, Jr., and John Francis Knapp, both of whom were young shipmasters, and of re- spectable connections. On the third day of their imprisonment, Joseph J. Knapp, .Tr., made a full confession, and acknowledged that he originated the plot for the murder. He had married the daughter of Mrs. Beckford, the housekeeper, and knew that by his will 'Mr. White had bequeathed to Mrs. Beck- ford a legacy of fifteen thousand dollars ; but, being informed that if Mr. White died without leaving a will, Mrs. B.'s portion would be nearly two Iiundred thousand dollars, he projected the plan of destroy- ing Mr. White's will, and then, before he could dis- cover the loss and make another, to put the old man himself to death. He revealed his plan to his 10 146 THE PREPARATION. brother, and Frank agreed to find some one to act tlie assassin. After tliis Frank opened the matter to Richard Crowninshield, Jr., who said he would commit the murder for a thousand dollars. .Toseph agreed to pay him that amount, and, as he had ac- cess to the house at all hours, it was arranged that he should unfasten the back window, so as to give Richard easy entrance to the premises. He also confessed that, four days before the mur- der, he stole the will from the iron chest, took it to Wenham in his chaise box, where he had covered it with hay, kept it till after the murder, and then burned it. After he had abstracted the will, he in- formed Crowninshield that all was ready. On the evening of the same day he met Crowninshield in the centre of Salem Common. Crowninshield had with him a bludgeon and a dagger, with which he intended to commit the deed. Knapp asked him if he intended to do it that night. He replied, he thought not ; he did not feel like it. It being as- certained that on Sunday, the 4th of April, Mr. White had gone to take tea with a relative in Chest- nut Street, Crowninshield intended to assassinate him with a dirk on his way home, but very fortu- nately Mr. White returned home before dark. Be- ing disappointed at this time, they next arranged for the tragedy on the 6th of April. Knapp was by some means to induce Mrs. Beckford to spend the t I THE MURDER. • 147 night with her daughter at Wenham. This being accomplished, Crovvninshield and Frank Knapp met about ten o'clock on the appointed evening, in Brown Street, in the rear of Mr. White's garden, where they could observe the movements in the house, and see at what time Mr. White and his two servants went to bed. Crovvninshield requested Frank Knapp to leave him and go home. Frank did so, but shortly after returned to the same spot. In the mean time, however, Crovvninshield walked down Brown Street, through Newbury Street, into Essex Street, on which the house fronts, entered a gate, and walked round to the back part of the house. He there found a plank, which he placed against the house ; he then climbed to a window, raised it, entered the house, ascended the stairs, noiselessly opened the door of Mr. White's sleep- ing chamber, cautiously approached the bedside, and saw that the old gentleman was sound asleep. He now raised a heavy bludgeon, which he had car- ried with him for the purpose, and inflicted a mor- tal blow. To be certain of accomplishing his fiend- ish design, he gave the body of the old man many stabs with a sharp dirk or poniard, and then delib- erately felt of his pulse, to see that it had ceased to beat ! The dreadful deed being accomplished, he retired from the chamber, left the house, hurried back into Brown Street, where he met Frank, 148 THE WAGES OF CRIxME. who was there wailing to learn the particulars of the deed. Crowninsliicld ran down Howard Street, con- cealed the club under the steps of the Orthodox Church, and then went home to Danvers. Joseph also confessed that the story of the attack upon himself and brother, on the 27th of April, in Wen- ham, was entirely false — it was originated by them- selves. He also confessed that he was the author of the two mysterious letters, signed " Grant," and , " N. Claxton, 4th." Not long after the murder, Crowninshield, in company with Frank, went over to Wenham to ob- tain the one thousand dollars which were to be the wages of his iniquity. He obtained, however, at that time, only one hundred five franc pieces. Crowninshield gave a particular account of all the circumstances connected with his commission of the crime, told where he concealed the bludgeon, and expressed his sorrow that .Joseph Knapp had not obtained the right will — that if he had known there was another, he would have gotten it. Joseph sent Frank to find the club, and in some way to destroy it ; but he was unsuccessful in discovering where it was. When Joseph, however, made his confession, he gave particular information of its place of concealment, and there it was found. It was a heavy hickory bludgeon, nearly two feet long, with a large, egg-shaped head. This head had been -^ THE ASSASSIN IN PRISON. 149 hollowed out, and then filled with lead. Its surface was smooth, and the handle well adapted for a firm grasp. Crowninshield stated that he turned it in a lathe. After Crowninshield's arrest and imprisonment, he manifested great indifference — a kind of stoical composure ; but when he was informed of Knapp's arrest, his knees smote together, the sweat stood in large drops upon his brow, and he was so far over- come that he fell back upon his bunk. When Palmer, alias Charles Grant, Jr., was brought to Salem jail, Crowninshield saw him as he left the carriage and was led by the officers into the prison. Palmer happened to be placed in a cell directly under the one which was occupied by Crowninshield. One day, when several of the mem- bers of the committee of vio:ilance were in Palmer's cell, conversing with him, their attention was arrest- ed by a loud whistle overhead. Presently a voice called, " Palmer ! Palmer ! " Soon a slip of paper and a piece of pencil were seen dangling in the air over their heads, and gradually descending lower and lower. When they came within reach, they were received by the committee. Upon examining the paper, it was found to contain two lines of poe- try, in order that, if Palmer was really there, he should signify it by writing two more lines, and make the verse complete. Palmer shrunk away into 150 THE SUICIDE AND TRIAL. the corner of his cell, and was afterwards trans- ferred to another part of the prison. He stood in great fear of Crowninshield. Upon information received from Palmer, Crown- inshield's barn was searched on the T^th of June, and a quantity of stolen goods was found concealed there. Crowninshield, finding that the evidences of his guilt were clustering thickly around him, and being determined, as he had frequently said, not to suffer a public, ignominious punishment, committed suicide by hanging himself with a handkerchief to the bars of his cell. The trial of the Knapps and of George Crown- inshield was commenced in the Supreme Court, at Salem, on the 20th of July, a special term of the court having been held for that purpose. It con- tinued, with a few days' recess, till the SOth of Au- gust, .lohn Francis Knapp was indicted as princi- pal, the other two as accessories. Selman and Chase, who had been arrested and retained in prison, on suspicion of being concerned in the murder, were discharged. John Francis Knapp was tried first. The law required that the principal criminal, in a case of murder, must first be found guilty before any of the accessories could be put upon trial. His counsel were Messrs. Franklin Dexter and William H. Gar- diner, gentlemen of distinguished reputation in their profession. THE CONVICTIONS. 151 When Joseph J. Knapp, Jr., — who, upon the promise of favor from the government, had made a full confession of the whole plot and of the manner of its execution, — was called upon the stand, he refused to testify. He would make no acknowledg- ments before the court and jury. The government, therefore, withdrew its pledge of favor, and he was left to the regular course of law, after giving, as he had done by his confession, a clew to sufficient evidence for the conviction of himself and his brother. i The trials proceeded. Both the Rnapps were convicted. George Crowninshield proved that he was somewhere else at the time of the murder, and so was cleared. Mr. Webster had been requested by the officers of government to assist them in conducting the case. After the evidence was all in, and Mr. Franklin Dexter had pleaded in defence of John F. Rnapp, Mr. Webster arose, and addressed the jury in be- half of the government. In the early part of his plea he gave utterance to the following thrilling de- scription of the manner in which the deed was com- mitted. As we read it, we can almost see the assassin engaged in his vi^ork of death. His anal- ysis of the operations of conscience is also pow- erful. 152 AN ASTOUNDING CASE. " Gentlemen, it is a most extraordinary case ; in somft respects it has hardly a pretedent any where, certainly none in our New Enj^land iiistory. This bloody drama exhibited no suddenly excited, ungov- ernable rage. The actors in it were not sur])rised 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 weigh- ing of money against life ; the counting out of so many pieces of silver against so many ounces of blood. " An aged man, w ithout an enemy in the world, in his own house, in his aCvn 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, 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 blood-shot eye emitting livid fires of malice : let him draw, rather, a decorous, smoothfaced, blood- less demon ; a picture in repose, rather than in ac- tion ; not so much an example of human nature in its THRILLING DESCRIPTION. 153 depravity, and in its paroxysms of crime, as an in- fernal being, a fiend, in the ordinary display and de- velopment 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 ; 4;he assassin enters, through the window already pre- pared, 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 be- holds his victim before him ; the room is uncom- monly open to the admission of light ; the face of the innocent sleeper is turned from the murderer, and the beams of the moon, resting on the gray locks of his aged temple, show him where to strike , the fatal blow is given, and the victim passes, v/ith- out a struggle or a motion, from the repose of sleep to the repose of death. " It is the assassin's purpose to make sure work, and he plies the dagger, though it is obvious that 154 A DREADFUL MISTAKE. life has been destroyed by the blow of the bhidj^eon ; he even raises the aged arm, that he may not fail in his aim at the heart, and rejilaces 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 accom- plished ; the deed is done ; he retreats, retraces his steps to the window, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes. lie has done the murder; no eye has seen him, no ear has heard him ; the secret is his own, and it is safe. » " Ah, gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake ; such a secret can be safe nowhere. The whole creation of God has neither nook nor corner where the guilty can bestow it, and say it is safe. Not to speak of that eye which pierces through all dis- guises, and beholds every thing as in the splendor of noon, such secrets of guilt are never safe from de- tection, even by men. "True it is, generally speaking, that 'murder will out ; ' true it is, that Providence hath so or- dained, 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 ! t EFFECT OF CONSCIENCE. 155 time and place ; a thousand ears catch every whis- per ; a thousand excited minds intensely dwell on the scene, shedding all their light, and ready to kin- dle the slightest circumstance into a blaze of dis- covery. 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 it- self; 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 to acknowledge to God or man. A vulture is devouring it, and it can ask no sympathy or assist- ance either from heaven or earth. The secret which the murderer possesses soon comes to pos- sess 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 ; 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 betrays his discretion, it breaks down his courage, it conquers his prudence. When suspicions from without begin to embarrass him, and the net of circumstances to entangle him, the fatal secret struggles with still greater violence to burst forth ; it must be con- fessed, it will be confessed ; there is no refuge 156 MR. Webster's plea. from confession but suicide, and suicide is confes- sion." As a specimen of Mr. Webster's directness, clear- ness, and logical power, when arguing a. case to a jury, we give the following extract from the same plea. The counsel for the defendant had spoken of the evidence against the prisoner as " circumstantial stuff." Of this phrase Mr. Webster makes effective use ; it was a powerful weapon furnished him by his adversary. " 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 cir- cumstances, we think, are full and satisfactory. The case mainly depends upon them, and it is com- mon that offences of this kind must be proved in this wav. Midnio^ht assassins take no witnesses ; the evidence of the facts relied on has been some- what sneeringly denominated by the learned counsel ' circumstantial stuff; ' but it is not such stuff as dreams are made of. Why does he not rend this stuff? Why does he not scatter it to the winds ? 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? " CIRCUMSTANTIAL STUFF." 157 " The fabricated letters from Kiiapp to the com- mittee, and to Mr. White — are they nothing but stuff? "The circumstance, that the housekeeper was away at the time the murder was committed, as it was agreed she should 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 disposed of? *' It is necessary, gentlemen, to settle now, at the commencement, the great question of a conspiracy. If there was none, or the defendant was not a party, then there is no evidence here to convict him. If there was a conspiracy, and he is proved to have been a party, then these two facts have a strong bear- ing on others, and all the great points of inquiry. " The defendant's counsel take no distinct ground, as I have already said, on this point, either to admit or to deny. They choose to confine themselves to a hypothetical mode of speech. They say, suppos- ing there was a conspiracy, non sequitiir that the prisoner is guilty as principal. Be it so. But still, if there was a conspiracy, and if he was a conspir- ator, 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. 158 THE CONSPIRACY. ''We mean to make out the conspiracy, and that the defendant was a party to it, and then to draw all just inferences from these facts. " Let me ask your attention, then, in the first place, to those appearances, on the morning after the murder, which liave a tendency to show that it was done in pursuance of a preconcerted plan of operation. What are they ? A man was found murdered in his bed ; no stranger had done the deed — no one unacquainted with the house had done it; it was apparent that somebody within had opened, and that somebody without had entered ; there had obviously and certainly been concert and cooperation ; the inmates of the house were not alarmed when the murder was perpetrated ; the as- sassin had entered without any riot or any vio- lence ; he had found the way prepared before him. The house had been previously opened ; the win- dow was unbarred from within, and its fastening un- screwed ; there was a lock on the door of the cham- ber in which Mr. White slept, but the key was gone ; it had been taken away and secreted ; the footsteps of the murderer were visible, out doors, tending towards the window ; the plank by which he entered the window still remained ; the road he pursued had been thus prepared for him. The victim was slain, and the murderer had escaped ; every thing indicat- ed that somebody within had cooperated with some- DELIBERATE PLAN. 159 body without. Every thing proclaimed that some of the inmates, or somebody having access to the house, had had a hand in the murder. On the face of the circumstances, it was apparent, therefore, tliat this was a premeditated, concerted murder ; that there had been a conspiracy to commit it. Who, then, were the conspirators ? If not found out, we are still groping in the dark, and the whole tragedy is still a mystery. " If the Knapps and the Crowninshields were not the conspirators in this murder, then there is a whole set of conspirators not yet discovered. Because, inde- pendent of the testimony of Palmer and Leighton, independent of all disputed evidence, we knovr, from uncontroverted facts, that this murder was, and must have been, the result of concert and cooperation between two or more. We know it was not done without plan and deliberation ; we see that whoever entered the house to strike the blow was favored and aided by some one who had been previously in the house, without suspicion, and who had prepared the way. This is concert, this is cooperation, this is conspiracy. If the Knapps and the Crownin- shields, then, were not the conspirators, who were ? Joseph Knapp had a motive to desire the death of Mr. White, and that motive has been shown. He was connected by marriage with the family of Mr. White ; his wife was the daughter of Mrs. Beck- ford, who was the only child of a sister of the de- 160 THE WILL. ceased. The deceased was more than eighty years old, and liad no children ; his only heirs were neph- ews and nieces. • He was supposed to be possessed of a very large fortune, wliich would have descended, by law, to his several nephews and nieces in equal shares ; or, if there was a will, then according to the will. But as he had but two branches of heirs, the children of his brother, Henry White, and of Mrs. Beckford, each of these branches, according to the common idea, would have shared one half of his property. This popular idea is not legally correct ; but it is common, and very probably entertained by the parties. According to this idea, Mrs. Beckford, on Mr. White's death without a will, would have been entitled to one half of his ample fortune ; and .loseph 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 learn from Palmer that one part of the design was to destroy the will before the murder was committed. There had been a pre- vious will, and that previous will was known or be- lieved to have been more favorable than the other to the Beckford family, so that by destroying the 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 favora- ble ; but the conspirators not having succeeded in obtainirg and destroying the last will, though they KEY OF THAT LOCK. 161 accomplished the murder, — that will being found m existence, and safe, and that will bequeathing the mass of property to others, — it seemed at the time impossible for Joseph Knapp, as for any one else, in- deed, 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 which actu- ated those ao:ainst whom there is much evidence, but who, without the knowledge of this intention, were not seen to have had a motive. This intention is proved, as I have said, by Palmer ; and it is so congruous with all the rest of the case, it agrees so well with all facts and circumstances, that no man could well withhold his belief, though the facts were stated by a still less credible witness. If one desi- rous of opening a lock turns over and tries a bunch of keys till he finds one that will open it, he natu- rally 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 all, by whomsoever it may be stated, it is still difficult not to believe that such fact is the true fact belonging to the case. In this respect Palmer's testimony is singularly confirmed. If it 11 162 GUILT BETRAYS ITSELF. were false, his ingenuity could not furnish us such clear exposition of strang'e-appearing circumstances. Some truth not before known can alone do that." "The acts of the parties themselves furnish strong presumption of their guilt. What was done on the receipt of the letter from Maine ? This let- ter was signed by Charles Grant, Jr., a person not known to either of tiie Knapps, nor was it known to them that any other person beside the Crownin- shields knew of the conspiracy. This letter, by the accidental omission of tiie word .//•., fell into the hands of the father, when intended for the son ; the father carried it to Wenliam, where both the sons were. 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 brothers on Saturday, the loth of May ; neither of them knew Palmer, and if they had known him, they could not know him to have been the writer of this letter. It was mysterious to them how any one at Belfast could have had knowl- edge of this affair. 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 carried. On the Sunday following, Joseph began to think there might be something in it. Perhaps, in the mean time, he had seen one of the Crownin- , shields. He was apprehensive that they might be sus- % •% GREAT FOLLY. 163 pected ; he was anxious to turn attejitioii from their family. What course did he adopt to eftect this 1 He addressed (Hie letter, with a false name, to Mr. White, and another to the committee, and to com- plete tlie climax of his folly, he signed the letter addressed to the committee " Grant," the same name as that which was signed to the letter received from Belfast. 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 must have been, therefore, irresistibly plain to them that one of the Knapps was the writer , of the letter received by the committee, 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 apjiarent mysteries of the letter from Palmer, they excite the basest suspicions against a man, whom, if tliey were innocent, they had no reason to believe guilty, and whom, if they were guilty, they most cer- tainly knew to be innocent. Could they have adopted amore direct method of exposing their own infamy ? The letter to the committee has intrinsic marks of a knowledge of this transaction. It tells the time and the manner in which the murder was committed. 164 GUILT AND SUBTERFUGE. Every line speaks the writer's condemnation. In attempting to divert attention from his family, and to cliarge the guilt upon another, 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 overruling Providence, I should say that it was the silliest piece of folly that w^as ever practised. INIark the destiny of crime ! It is ever obliged ty resort to such subterfuges ; it trembles in the broad light ; it betrays itself in seeking conceal- ment. He alone walks safely that walks uprightly. Who for a moment can read these letters and doubt of Joseph Knapp's guilt 1 The constitution of na- ture is made to inform against him. There is no corner dark enough to conceal him. There is no turnpike road broad enough or smooth enough for a man so guilty to walk in without stumbling. Every step proclaims his secret to every passenger. His own acts come out to fix his guilt. In attempting to charE, I> THE V. S. SE>ATE. HIS EXORDIUM. 185 " Mr. Webster rose and addressed the Senate. His exordium is known by heart every whert : ' ]V|^r. President, when the mariner has been tossed, for many days, in thick weather, and on an unknown sea, he naturally avails himself of tlie 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 further on the waves of this debate, refer to the point from which we de- parted, that we may, at least, be able to form some conjecture where we nov^^ are. I ask for the read- ing of the resolution.' " There wanted no more to enchain the attention. There was a spontaneous, though silent, expression of eager approbation, as the orator concluded these opening remarks ; and, while the clerk read the resolution, many attempted the impossibility of get- ting nearer the speaker. Every head was inclined closer towards him, every ear turned in the direc- tion of his voice, and that deep, sudden, mysterious silence foilov»^ed, which always attends fulness of emotion. From the sea of upturned faces before him, the orator beheld his thoughts reflected as from a mirror. The varying countenance, the suffused eye, the earnest smile, and ever-attentive look, as- sured him of his audience's entire sympathy. If among his hearers there were those who affected at 186 FIRST IMPRESSIONS. first an indifference to his glomng thoughts and fer- vcj;it periods, the difficult mask was soon laid aside, and profound, undisguised, devoted attention fol- lowed. In tlie earlier part of his speech, one of his principal opponents seemed deeply engrossed in the careful perusal of a newspaper he held before his face ; but this, on nearer approach, proved to be vpsidc down. In truth, all, sooner or later, volunta- rily, or in spite of themselves, were wholly carried away by the eloquence of the orjitor. " Those who had doubted IMr. Webster's ability to cope with and overcome his opponents were fully satisfied of their error before he had proceeded far in his speech. Their fears soon took another direction. When they heard his sentences of pow- erful thought, towering, in accumulative grandeur, one above the other, as if the orator strove, Titan- like, to reach the very heavens themselves, they were giddy with an apprehension that he would break down in his flight. They dared not believe that genius, learning, any intellectual endowment, however uncommon, that was simply mortal, could sustain itself long in a career seemingly so perilous. They feared an Icarian fall. " Ah, who can ever forget, that was present to hear, the tremendous, the awful burst of eloquence, with which the orator spoke of the Old Bay State ? or tbfe tones of deep pathos in which the words were pronounced ? — 1 HIS DEFENCE OF MASSACHUSETTS. 187 " * Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts. There she is — behold her, and judge for yourselves. There is her history — the world knows it by heart ! The past, at least, is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lex- ington, and Bunker Hill — and there they will re- main forever. The bones of her sons, falling in the greal 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 nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. If discord and dis- union shall wound it — if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it — if folly and madness, if uneasiness under salutary and neces- sary restraint, shall succeed to separate it from that Union, by which alone its existence is made sure, it ^ will standi in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm, with whatever of 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 inon- uments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin.' ^' What New England heart was there but throbbed with vehemenln tumultuous, irrepressible emotion, as 188 THE SENSATION PRODUCED. he dwelt upon New England siiflerings, New Eng- land struggles, and New England triumphs, during the war of the revolution ? There was scarcely a dry eye in the Senate ; all hearts were overcome ; grave judges, and men grown old in dignified life, turned aside their heads to conceal the evidences of their emotion. " In one corner of the gallery was ckistered a group of Massachusetts men. They had hung from the first moment upon the words of the speaker, with feelings variously but always warmly excited, deepen- ing in intensity as he proceeded. At first, while the orator was going through his exordium, they held their breath and hid their faces, mindful of the sav- age attack upon him and ^ew England, and the fearful odds against him, her champion ; as he went deeper into his speech, they felt easier ; when he turned Hayne's flank, on Banquo's ghost, they breathed freer and deeper. But now, as he alluded to Massachusetts, their feelings were strained to the highest tension ; and when the orator, concluding his encomium upon the land of their birth, turned, intentionally or otherwise, his burning eye full upon them', thei/ shed tears like girls ! "No one who was not present can understand the excitement of the scene. No one who was caii give an adequate description of it. No word-paint- ing can convey the deep, intense 6iiithusiasm, the MR. Everett's testimony. 189 reverential attention, of that vast assembly, nor limner transfer to canvas their earnest, eager, awe- struck countenances. Though language wore as subtile and flexiWe as thought, it still would be impossible to represent the full idea of the scene. There is something intangible in an emotioft, which cannot be transferred. Tlie nicer shades of feeUng elude pursuit. Every description, therefore, of , the occasion, seems to the narrator himself most tame, spiritless, uujust. *' Much of the instantaneous eflect of the speech arose, of course, from the orator's delivery — the tones of his voice, his countenance, and manner. These die mostly with the occasion that calls them forth; the impression is lost in the attempt at transmission from one mind to another. They can only be described in general terms. ' Of the effec- tiveness of Mr. Webster's manner, in many parts,' says Mr. Everett, ' it w^ould be in vain to attempt to give any one not present the faintest idea. It has been my fortune to hear some of the ablest speeches of the greatest living orators on both sides of the water ; but I must confess, I never heard any thing which so completely reatlzed my conception of what Demosthenes was when he delivered the oration for the crown.' " Another gentleman who was present on that deep- ly interesting occasion, in describing tlie effect pro- 190 hayne's acknowledgment. duced upon his own mind by this speech of Mr. Webster, said, — " lie was a totally different thing from any public speaker I ever heard. I sometimes felt as if I were looking- at a mammoth treading, at an equable and stately pace, his native canebrake, and, without apparent consciousness, crushing obstacles which na- ture had never designed as impediments to him." On the evening of the day on wliich this great speech was delivered, the president held a levee in the White House, as4iis mansion is called. A large and brilliant company were assembled. The fanious east room was crowded. There were representa- tives, senators, judges, naval officers, gentlemen of distinction from abroad, private citizens, ajid ladies, all attired in elegant costume befitting the occasion. At one end of this spacious apartment was Colonel Hayne, surrounded by his friends ; at the other end was Daniel Webster, in the centre of a group of his admirers. Durinijr the evenino^ Mr. Havne made his way to the opposite end of the room, for the purpose of expressing his congratulations to his distinguished opponent. Mr. Webster saw him ap- proaching, and when he had arrived sufficiently near, he advanced with his hand extended, and in his ac- customed familiar manner said, " How are you. Colonel Hayne? " to which the colonel immediately replied, " None th^ hJtir for you, siry A frank acknowled'!:nient of a pakifal Irulh. •o' — I IMPORTANCE OF THIS SPEECH. 191 Mr. Webster's reply in the Senate to Mr. Hayne was soon widely circulated. It was printed in the papers of all the states of the Union ; it was read and commented on by thousands ; it assisted to dissipate tlie dark clouds which were gathering over our country ; it arrested nullification ; it neutral- ized the effect of wrong views respecting state rights, and the relation of the several states to the national government, by presenting those which were correct ; it rendered important assistance in saving the coun- try from a civil war, and perhaps from a dissolution of" the Union. The crisis was one of great respon- sibility, and nobly was it met. This single speech, viewed in connection with the circumstances under which it was delivered, and the important effects which followed it, was enough to have given him great and permanent renown, though he had per- formed no other public act during his life ; but when we remember that this was only one of a long series of important acts, scattered over a period of forty years, in which Mr. Webster proved himself equal to every occasion, and competent to suggest reme- dies, in accordance with his views of the constitution, for every difficulty, however great or intricate, in which the nation was involved, our admiration of his transcendent abilities is greatly increased. Another speech which was delivered by Mr. Webster in the Senate of the United States, and 192 SEVENTH OF MARCH SPEECH. which produced a profound sensation throughout the country, was given on the 7th of March, 1850, and is in his printed works entitled tlie Constitution and the Union ; it is more generally known as his speech in su])port of the fugitive slave bill. As this was one of the most important speeches of Mr. Webster during his long congressional career, it is proper that we allude to it in this connection. It should be remembered that when the union of the states was formed, a number of the states at the north, as well as those at the south, sanctioned sla- very. It was no uncommon thing for the slaves — apprentices and servants — to escape from one state and flee into another ; it was, therefore, deemed important that, in the constitution of the United States, provision should be made for the reclaiming of these fugitives. The south was unwilling to4brm a union with the north without such provision. The north consented ; it was accordingly inserted in the constitution, that persons held to service in one state, who should escape and flee into another state, might be reclaimed by those who held them as servants. With this the Southern States were satisfied, and believing that in this matter the north was acting in good faith, they cheerfully came into the Union. In tiie course of years, great difficulty was expe- rienced in executing this provision of the constitu- NATIONAL EXCITEMENT. 193 tion. The men who framed that important docu- ment passed awaj ; other generations arose and took their places ; amongst these were many who regretted the existence of this provision, and who were unwiUing to comply with it. The legislatures of some of the states passed laws adverse to it, and designed to impede its execution. Associations were formed at the north to aid the flight of slaves into Canada, which were instrumental in bringing many out of bondage into the enjoyment of personal lib- erty. The south became irritated, accused the Northern States of violating the constitution, and threatened to withdraw from the Union. The ex- citement occasioned by this state of things was wide- spread and intense. It was believed by some that the Union was in'dansrer. Under these circumstances, Mr. Webster felt it to be his duty to exert himself to the full extent of his ability to allay the universal agitation. For this purpose he delivered, on the 7th of March, 1850, his great speech for the Constitution and the Union, in which he favored the passage of a law for re- claiming fugitive slaves. This speech awakened widely different feelings throughout the country. There were those who regarded it as evidence of treason to freedom — as an act which sullied what would otherwise have been his spotless fame. Many 13 194 OPPOSITE OPINIONS. of his own politic.il friends deeply regretted the po- sition which he then assumed. The pulpit and the press poured out upon hitn their burning anathemas. No language was too strong in which to give expres- sion to the animadversions which were indulged.' But others took a directly opposite view. They re- garded it as preeminently judicious and timely, as a neutralizing element, thrown into the caldron of public opinion, where the elements of disunion were in violent effervescence. It appeared to them as the greatest and most valual»le offering Mr. Webster ever made for his country's good — as the crown- ing glory of his life. The following extracts are presented as speci- mens of these opposite views. The first is from an article on Mr. Webster in on^ of our leading Quarterlies. " We were in Boston when the telegraph brought a few. brief lines, indicating the positions of that 7th of March speech. Almost every body seemed filled with amazement, and suggested that the Washington telegraphist must be a mischievous wag, or that the lightning had falsified the message with whose deliv- \ ery it had been charged. The wisest editors con- fessed themselves puzzled, and besought the public jto suspend their judgment till the facts could be learned. " The speech itself came in due time, and then EXTRACT FROM A REVIEW. 195 there was doubt no longer. The whole north seemed indignant, and Massachusetts hung her head in mortification. Even in her legislative halls, men who had never been suspected of radical tendencies shook their heads meaningly, and muttered of treachery and Benedict Arnold. The Bay State felt that her honest pride had been heartlessly humbled, and her confidence abused. But Daniel Webster was a great man, having great influence ; and the question was mooted, at first privately, whether we could afford to lose him. The tone of the press was changed ; the legislature laid the proposition to re- quest him to resign his seat under the table ; politi- cal commentators wrote parodies on the speech ; the merchants apologized for its seeming severity on northern heresies*; the pulpit pleaded for moderation ; a thousand men of standing and property wrote him a letter of thanks ; he himself came on, and rode through the streets of Boston, telling her, as he went, that he was on the road of political safety ; and then we knew that the battle of freedom was to be fought^ not only without his assistance, but with his giant form towering up in the van of the hosts of despotistn, making a mock of our faith and our feebleness." The next is from a Eulogy of Daniel Web- ster, by a distinguished divine. " At a later period, and nearer to our own times, 196 EULOGY. the prevalence at the north of liostility to southern institutions gave birth to projects by which the Union and the constitution were again endangered — the Union by fostering a spirit of desperate sec- tional animosity, the constitution by trampling on the guaranties established by it for the protec- tion of the rights of the slaveliolding states. Through the excitement consequent upon these projects, the public business was brought to a stand, and the public mind dismayed with the apprehension of coming evils. In this crisis, the veteran senator from Massachusetts was seen again at his post, look- ing somewhat older, but showing no abatement either in the power of his mind or the fire of his patriotism. He stood where he always had stood, and where he had promised he should always be found — for the constitution and the Union. The assailants came from the opposite point of the compass, and so he had faced about ; but he had not changed sides. It was no longer the gay and prancing chivalry of the south which he had to en- counter ; but a sturdy and multitudinous n^^rthern constituency, and foremost among them his old friends from Massachusetts, with whom 'and for whom he had stood so long, now advancing under new leaders, and impelled to constantly new en- croachments by the aggressive force of moral and religious convictions. The impending contest im- A SEVERE TRIAL. 197 posed upon him the severest trial of his life. It required his parting with old friends, for whom he cherished profound esteem, and whose animating convictions on the great question at issue were deeply shared by him, in every thing but in their threatening aspect to the Union and the constitution. But so long as he believed these to be in danger, it concerned him little who were friends or foes. In the similar crisis just referred to, he had united in the defence of the constitution with an administra- tion to the general policy of which he was strongly opposed, and against which he had always acted ; and he was prepared now, in a case equally involv- ing the stability of the government, to separate from those whose general policy he approved and had al- ways supported. He foresaw the storm he was raising ; but it did not move him from his purpose. He was willing now, as before, to take his chance among those upon whom blows might fall first and fall thickest. And accordingly on the 7th of March his voice was again heard, in tones as earnest as evet* came from his lips, speaking, not as a Massachusetts man, nor as a northern man, but as an American, and as a member of the Senate of the United States. « He felt,' he said, ' that he had a duty to perform, a part to act, not for his own security, for he was looking out for no fragment upon Avhich to float away from the wreck, if wreck there must be, 198 TUE RESULT. but for the good of the whole, for tlie preservation of the Union.' It lias turned out here, as before, that the post of danger, assumed voluntarily in the spirit of self-sacrifice, became the post of honor. By a singular felicity of fortune, Mr. Webster be came, the. second time, the principal instrument of a deliverance as signal as any which has occurred in the history of tlie nation. By common consent he is entitled to the principal credit of this great settle- ment, in wliich the north and the south have once more embraced each other with fraternal affection, and under whibh the country has resumed its wonted career of peace and prosperity." The above quotations are sufficient to convey an idea of the conflicting opinions which were cherished of Mr. Webster's course on that trying occasion by different portions of the community. This diversity of sentiment will long exist, and will doubtless have — whether justly or unjustly — great influence upon the opinions of men, not only respecting his policy and conduct in that particular instance, but also as to his general character. CHAPTER XT. Ezekiel Webster. — A noble Mother. — An affecting Night Scene. — Fraternal Attachment. — Touching Tribute of Affec- tion. — A beautiful Letter. — Dedications. — Living Monu- ments. — The Profile. — Mother's Garden. — Mr. Webster visits his Grave. — The Cemetery. — His Remarks. — Menu mental Inscriptions. — Mr. Webster's Poetry, '< The Memory of the Heart." With all his greatness, Mr. Webster was a man of tender sensibility. His domestic attachments were strong. His exalted honors did not dry up the fountains of deep feeling. Several incidents, illustrative of these traits of character, we propose to group together in the present chapter. While Mr. Webster was pursuing his course of studies at college, his brother Ezekiel was at home, assisting his father in carrying on the farm. He was a strong young man, both physically and intel- lectually. Daniel appreciated his talents, and be- heved that, with suitable cultivation, he might attain to distinction in professional life. He was unwilling to enjoy the benefits of a public education alone. He earnestly desired that the same boon might be conferred upon his brother, and he resolved that it should be, if any influence of his could effect it. He determined to make the effort by introducing 199 200 A NOBLE MOTHER. the matter first to Ezekiel and tlien to his father. When spending the vacations at liome, he and his brother were accustomed to sleep together. One night, after they had retired to rest, Daniel opened the matter to his brother, and they conversed freely upon it. " Daniel utterly refused to enjoy the fruit of his brother's labor any longer. They were united in sympatliy and affection, and they must be united in their pursuits. But how could they leave their beloved parents, in age and solitude, with no pro- tector ? Tiiey talked and wept, and wept and talked, till dawn of day. They dared not broach the matter to their father. Finally Daniel resolved to be the orator upon the occasion. .Tudge Webster was then somewhat burdened with debts. He was advanced in age, and had set his heart upon hav- ing Ezekiel as his helper. The very thought of separation from both his sons was painful to him. When the proposition was made, he felt as did the patriarch of old, when he exclaimed, ' .Joseph is not, and will ye also take Benjamin away ? * A family council was called. The mother's opinion was asked. She was a strong-minded woman. She was not blind to the superior endowments of her sons. With all a mother's partiality, however, she did not over-estinate their powers. She decided the matter at once. Her reply was, ' I have lived long in the world, and have been happy in my children. AFFECTIONATE BROTHERS. 201 If Daniel and Ezekiel will promise to take care of me in my old age, I will consent to the sale of all our property at once, and they may enjoy the benefit of that which remains after our debts are paid.'' This was a moment of intense interest to all the parties. Parents and children all mingled their tears together, and sobbed aloud, at the thought of separation. The father yielded to the entreaties of the sons and the advice of his wife. Daniel returned t« college, and Ezekiel took his little bundle in his band, and sought on foot the scene of his pr(§paratory studies. In one year he joined his yourt^^ "brother in college." * All honor to that self-denying, noble mother, who, for the intellectual improvement of her children, would have consented to the sale of all the property, and who " decided the matter at once." Let her character ever be held in grateful remembrance. With such mothers, our country will never want for able statesmen. How affecting, too, is the scene of that night's interview between those two brothers, talking and weeping about their difficulties and pros- pects till the dawn of day — the, younger laboring to persuade the elder to relinquish the tilling of the land, in order to cultivate his own mind, and the elder dwelling upon the obstructions in the way, only, however, to hear a method suggested by Dan- iel, by which those impediments might be removed ! * Lj'man's Memorial. 202 THE HIGHEST COMMENDATION. This attachment between these two brothers con- tinued througli life. Ezekiel being the elder, the other was accustomed to cherish great respect for his opinions. Daniel seems to have regarded the approbation of Ezekiel as a higher commendation than the praises of the multitude. After his splendid reply to Hayne, in the United States Senate, and when no language was strong enough to give full expression to 'the admiration which it had awakened throughout the land, he was heard to say, " How I wish that my poor brother had lived till after this speech, that I might knmv' if he would have been gratified ! " He, on whose lips a vast multitude had hunir with delio^ht, — who had astonished the greatest minds in the nation by his wonderful versatility of talent, in which satire, pathos, logical power, keen analysis, and beauty of rhetoric, were all combined, and by means of which an ingenious and graceful competitor was effectually overthrown, in one of the most powerful intellectual contests that this or any other country has ever witnessed, and whilst the victor's enthusiastic praises were on every tongue, — his heart was modestly going forth towards his brother, as if his satisfaction could not be com- plete without that brother's commendation ! Ai.d where, in the history of political literature, is there a more affecting tribute of fraternal love, than iii the following dedication of the first volume of his s}-'?cchcs * — FRATERNAL TRIBUTE. 203 " To my Nieces, Mrs. Alice Bridge Whipple, and Mrs. Mary Ann Sanborn. " Many of the speeches contained in this volume were delivered and printed in the lifetime of your father, whose fraternal affection led him to speak of them with approbation. " His death, which happened when he had only just passed the middle period of life, left you with- out a father, and me without a brother. " I dedicate this volume to you, not only for the love I have for yourselves, but also as a tribute of affection to his memory, and from a desire that the name of my brother, Ezekiel Webster, may be asso- ciated with mine, so long as any thing written or spoken by me shall be regarded or read. "Danl. Webster." As in early life he resolved that his brother should share the benefits of education with him, so in the zenith of his glory he desired to make him a par- ticipant of his honors, by indissolubly associating their names together. The following characteristic letter of Mr. Web- ster, written May 3, 1846, at Franklin, New Hamp- shire, cjontains some allusion, not only to his brother, but to other members of his family, which are beau- tifully illustrative of his affectionate domestic attach- ments : — 204 INTERESTING LETTER. " Sunday, 1 o'clock. " My dear Sir : • •••••• *' I have made satisfactory arrangements respect- ing the house, the best of which is, that I find I can leave it where it is, (that is, the main house,) and yet be comfortable, notwithstanding the railroad. This saves a great deal of expense. • •••••• " This house faces due north. Its front windows look towards the River Merrimack. But then the river soon turns to the south, so that the eastern windows look towards the river also. But the river has so deepened its channel in this stretch of it, in the last fifty years, that we cannot see its water without approaching it, or going back to the higher lands behind us. The history of this change is of considerable importance in the philosophy of streams. I have observed it practically, and know something | of the theory of the phenomenon ; but I doubt whether the world will ever be benefited either by my learning or my observation in this respect. Looking out at the east windows, at this moment, (2 P. M.,) with a beautiful sun just breaking out, ^ my eye sweeps a rich and level field of one hundred acres. At the end of it, a third of a mile off, I see plain marble gravestones, designating the places where repose my father, my mother, my brother INTERESTING LETTER. 205 Joseph, and my sisters Mehetabel, Abigail, and Sa- rah, good and Scripture names, inherited from their Puritan ancestors. "My father, Ebenezer Webster, born at Kings- ton, in the lower part of the state, in 1739, was the handsomest man 1 ever saw, except my brother Ezekiel, who appeared to me — and so does he now seem to me — the very finest human form that ever I laid eyes on. I saw him in his coffin — a white forehead, a tinged cheek, a complexion as clear as heavenly light. But where am I straying? The grave has closed upon him, as it has on all my brothers and sisters. We shall soon be all together. But this is melancholy, and I leave it. Dear, dear kindred blood, how I love you all ! " This fair field is before me. I could see a lamb on any part of it. I have ploughed it, and raked it, and hoed it ; but I never mowed it. Somehow, I could never learn to hang a scythe. I had not wit enough. My brother Joe used to say that my father sent me to college in order to make me equal to the rest of the children ! "Of a hot day in .Tuly — it must have been in one of the last years of Washington's administra- tion — I was making hay, with my father, just where I now see a remaining elm tree. About the middle of the afternoon, the Honorable Abiel Foster, M. C, who lived in Canterbury, six miles off, called at the 206 EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. house, and came into the field to see my father. He was a worthy man, college learned, and had been a minister, hut was not fi person of any con- siderable natural power. My father was his friend and supporter. He talked a while in the field, and went on his way. When he was gone, my father called me to him, and we sat down beneath the elm, on a haycock. He said, ' My son, that is a worthy man. He is a member of Congress. He goes to Philadelphia, and gets six dollars a day, while I toil here. It is because he had an education, which I never had. If I had had his early education, I should have been in Philadelphia in his place. I came near it as it was. But I missed it, and now I must work here.' ' My dear father,' said I, ' you shall not work. Brother and I will work for you, and wear our hands out, and you shall rest.' And I remember to have cried, and I cry now at the recol- lection. ' My child,' said he, » it is of no importance to me ; I now live but for my children. I could not give your elder brother the advantages of knowl- edge, but I can do something for you. Exert your- self; improve your opportunities; learn, learn: and when I am gone, you will not need to gc through the hardships which I have undergone, and which have made me an old man before my time.' " The next May he took me to Exeter, to the Phillips Exeter Academy, placed me under the FILIAL LOVE. 207 tuition of its excellent preceptor, Dr. Benjamin Ab- bott, still living*, and from tliat time . " My father died in April, 1806. I neither left him nor forsook him. My opening an office at Bos- cawen was that I might be near him. I closed his eyes in this very house. He died at sixty-seven years of age, after a life of exertion, toil, and ex- posure — a private soldier, an officer, a legislator, a judge, every thing that a man could be to whom Learning never had disclosed her ' ample page.' My first speech at the bar was made when he was on the bench. He never heard me a second time. He had in him what I collect to have been the char- acter of some of the old Puritans. He was deeply religious, but not sour ; on the contrary, good hu- mored, facetious ; sharing, even in his age, with a contagious laugh ; teeth all as white as alabaster ; gentle, soft, playful ; and yet having a heart in him that he seemed to have borrowed from a lion. He could frown, — a frown it was, — but cheerfulness, good humor, and smiles composed his most usual aspect. " Ever 'truly yours, &c., " Daniel Webster." How touching is the allusion to Ezekiel ! " a white forehead, a tinged cheek, a complexion clear as heaven's light. The grave has closed upon him 208 TOUCHING ALLUSIONS. as it has upon all my brothers and sisters. We shall soon all be together. Dear, dear kindred bloody hmo / loved you all ! " And then his reference to his father : " My father died. I neither left him nor forsook him. / closed ^ his cyes.^'' During the presidential campaign of 1840, the opponents of General Harrison sneered at him be- cause he was born in a log cabin. This gave occa- sion for the following outburst of moving eloquence from Mr. Webster, in which 'there are other af- fectinsr allusions to his father. " Gentlemen, it did not happen to me to be born in a log cabin ; but my elder brothers and sisters were born in a log cabin, raised amid the snowdrifts of New Hampshire, at a period so early as that, when the smoke first rose from its rude chimney, and curled over the frozen hills, there was no simi- lar evidence of a white man's habitation between it and the settlements on the rivers of Canada. Its remains still exist. I make to it an annual visit. I carry my children to it, to teach them the hardships endured by the generations which liave gone before them. I love to dwell on the tender recollections, the kindred ties, the early affections, and the touch- ing narrations and incidents, which mingle with all I know of this primitive family abode. I weep to think that none of those who inhabited it are now i DEDICATIONS. 209 among the living ; and if ever I am ashamed of it, or if I ever fail in aifectionate veneration for HIM who raised it and defended it against savage violence and destruction, cherished all the domestic virtues be- neath its roof, and through the fire and blood of a seven years' revolutionarj war, shrunk from no dan- ger, no toil, no sacrifice to serve his country, and to raise his children to a condition better than his own, may my name, and the name of my posterity, be blotted forever from the memory of mankind." The same delicate sensibility was evinced by Mr. Webster in the dedications of the last five volumes of his works. It is appropriate, therefore, that they be inserted here as illustrative of an interestino' fea- ture of his character. Second Volume. " To Isaac P. Davis, Esq. '< My dear Sir : A warm private friendship has subsisted between us for half our lives, interrupted by no untoward occurrence, and never for a moment cooling into indiiference. Of this friendship, the source of so much happiness to me, I wish to leave, if not an enduring memorial, at least an affectionate and grateful acknowledgment. I inscribe this volume to you. " Daniel Webster." 14 210 DEDICATIONS. Third Volume. *' To Mrs. Caroline Le Roy Webster. " My dearly-beloved Wife : I cannot allow these volumes to go to the press without containing a tribute of my affection, and some acknowledgment of the deep interest that you have felt in the pro- ductions which they contain. You have witnessed the origin of most of them, not with less concern, certainly, than has been felt by their author ; and the degree of favor with which they may now be received by the pul)lic will be as earnestly re- garded, I am sure, by you as by myself. The op- portunity seems also a fit one for expressing the high and warm regard which I ever entertained for your .honored father, now deceased, and the respect and esteem which I cherish towards the members of that amiable and excellent family to which you belong. " Daniel Webster," . Four til Volume, »' To Fletcher Webster, Esq. " My dear Sir : I dedicate one of the volumes of these speeches to the memory of your deceased brother and sister, and I am devoutly thankful tjiat I am able to inscribe another volume to you, my only surviving child, and the -object of my affection and hopes. You have been of an age, at the appearance of most of these speeches and writings, DEDICATIONS. 211 at which you were able to read and understand them ; and in the preparation of some of them you have taken no unimportant part. Among the diplo- matic papers, there are several written by yourself wholly or mainly, at the time when official and con- fidential connections subsisted between us in the de- partment of state. The principles and opinions expressed in these productions are such as I believe to be essential to the preservation of the Union, the maintenance of the Constitution, and the advance- ment of the country to still higher stages of pros- perity and renown. These objects have constituted my pqlestar during the whole of my political life, which has now extended through more than half the period of the existence of the government. And I know, my dear son, that neitiier parental authority nor parental example is necessary to induce you, in whatever capacity, public or private, you may be called to act, to devote yourself to the accomplish- ment of the same ends. "Your affectionate Father." Fifth Volume, "To J. W. Paige, Esq. "My dear Sir : The friendship which has subsisted so long between us, springs not more from our close family connections than from similarity of opinions and sentiments. I count it among the advantages 212 DEDICATIONS. and pleasu;es of my life, and pray you to allow me as a slight, but grateful token of my estimate of it, to dedicate to you tliis volume of my speeches. " Daniel Webster." Sixth Volume. "With the warmest parental aftection, mingled with afflicted feelings, I dedicate this the last volume of my works to the memory of my deceased children, .Tulia Webster Apjdeton, beloved in all the relations of daughter, wife, mother, sister, and friend ; and Major Edward Webster, who died in Mexico, in the military service of the United States, with unblem- ished honor and reputation, and who entered the service solely from a desire to be useful to his coun- try, and do honor to the state in which he was born. " ' Go, g-enlle spirits, to your destined rest 5. While I — reversed our nature's kindlier doom, Pour forth a father's sorrow on your tomb.' " Daniel Webster." Over Mr. Webster's farm at Marshfield are scat- tered numerous trees, many of which have a history that associates them directly with the owner of the estate ; among these are two small elms, which stand immediately in front of the mansion. They were planted there for a special purpose, under the following circumstances : one day, after Mr. Web- ster had been absent from the house for some i MEMENTOES. 213 time, he was seen returning with two small trees, and the shovel with which he had removed them. Cahing for his son, Fletcher, he conducted him to the front of the house, and, after digging the holes and plantiag the trees without assist- ance, he turned to his son, and said, in a subdued tone of voice, '"> My son, protect these trees after I am gone ; let them ever remind you of Julia and Ed- ward.'''' In the presence of his only surviving child he planted those trees, as living monuments to the memory of the two who had departed. Step, now, into the house, and, amongst the many objects of interest which will there be seen is a small profile cut in black, elegantly framed, with a single line in Mr. Webster's own writing: — " My excellent Mother. " D. W." We venture the prediction that that modest pro- file will awaken in the breasts of the Marshfield vis- itors far deeper and tenderer emotions than many of the more costly and showy articles which may there be seen. In one of his letters to that " true man," John Taylor, who had charge of Elms Farm, he gave him a strict charge to take care of his mother's gar- den, though it required tlie labor of one man. Mr. Webste^ provided, in Marshfield, and not far 214 THE FAMILY CEMETERY. from his residence, a family cemetery. It is upon the summit of a hill, from which may be seen, on one side, a wide extent of country, embracing, amongst other interesting objects, the site of the old church, — the first ever erected in the town, — and the ocean, rolling its blue waves in ceaseless sublimity to the shore. On one of his last visits to this sacred spot, he was accompanied by ]Mr. Lanman. They approached the place in silent reverence, and, whilst standing there, Mr. Webster, pointing to the tomb and the enclosed green spot, said, in a deliberate and im- pressive manner, — " This will be my home ; and here three monu- ments will soo'n be erected — one for the mother of my children, one each for Julia and Edward, and there will be plenty of room in front for the little ones that must follow them." These were the only words he uttered. They were enouiih to indicate the current of his thouohts and feelings. He was thinking, with tender interest, of the dead and of the living, — of those who had gone, and of those who were to follow, -^- not for- getting himself. <' This will be my home." Alas ! how soon was this verified ! The monuments to which he referred are now there. They are simple columns, with granite bases and marble caps, con- taining the following inscriptions : — MONUMENTAL INSCRIPTIONS. 215 '♦eSrace ^2lJcbster, Wife of Daniel Webster : Born January 16, 1781 ; Died January 21, 1828. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." ♦'Sulfa SSIeister, ■ Wife of Samuel Appleton Appleton : Born January 16, 1818 j Died April 18, 1848. Let me go, for the day breaketh." "I^afor fStitoavtr ^WzhnXtx'. Born July 28, 1820; Died at San Angel, in Mexico, In the military service of his country, January 23, 1848. A dearly beloved son and brother.^* Over the door of the tomb is a plain marble slab, on which is inscribed, in bold, deep letters, the name of '* Daniel Webster." We see, from the above facts, that intellectual greatness is in perfect harmony with delicate sensi- bility. A man may, at one time, hold a nation spell- bound by his eloquence, or in senates, or with for- eign ambassadors, be discussing, in the profoundest manner, the most intricate questions of international 216 " THE MEMORY OF THE HEART." law, and at another time may be giving exercise, in the most delicate manner, to tlie tenderest sentiments of affection. There is nothing unmanly in the strongest attachment, even though it finds its ex- pression in a tear. When Mr. Webster was in England, he wrote the following lines, in which he doubtless refers to h^a own experience of "THE MEMORY OF THE HEART. " If stores of dry and learned lore we gain, We keep (hem in the memory of the brain ; Names, things, and facts — whate'er we knowledge call, There is the common leger for them all ; And images on this cold surface traced Make slight impressions, and are soon effaced. " But we've a page more glowing and more bright, On which our friendship and our love to write ; That these may never from the soul depart. We trust them to the memory of the heart. There is no dimming — no etiacement here ; Each new pulsation keeps the record clear ; Warm, golden letters all the tablet fill, Nor lose their lustre till the heart stands still. " LowDow, November 19, 1839." CHAPTER XII. Mr. Webster's Mirthfulness. — A playful Letter. — Mr. Choate's Pathos. — Webster's practical Joke. — Mr. Choate's poor Writ- ing. — Eflect of the Joke. — Mr. Webster's Trout Law. — « That ain't the Voorst of it." —Amusing Contrast. — The Sen- ate interrupted. — Webster and the Buckeyes. — "Old Web- ster" and the sporting Snobs. — Appearances deceptive. — Webster's Wit. — Amusing Reply. — " Venerable " Trout. — Effect of Cheerfulness. — Webster's Spelling Book. To see Mr. Webster in some grave debate, or when pleading an important case before a jury, an individual might infer, from the dignity and serious- ness of his manner, that cheerfulness was not an element of his nattire. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Among the strata which entered into the composition of his character was a vein of mirthfulness, that ofttiines cropped out above the sur- face of his habitual gravity, revealing the rich stores that were concealed beneath. Sometimes this play- ful humor was mingled with his professional duties. It is conspicuous in the first part of his great reply to Hayne. On one occasion he conducted a case in Boston, before the Circuit Court, having reference to the violation of some patent for a wheel. Whilst the 217 218 Webster's mirthfulness. case was in progress, he wrote the following letter to a friend, who says of it, " The letter is not, of course, written for the public eye ; but I have per- mission to use it, and make extracts from it. You will see, from its half serious and half ironical char- acter, how playful he can be, even while sitting at the bar, waiting for his turn to be heard in a cause. He speaks of himself in it as he supposes others will speak of him. To show you that he is not al- ways cold and unbending, I will give you an extract from the letter." The following is the extract : — «« Boston, Jan. 15, '49 — Monday, 12 o'clock, In C. Court, United States. " Marcy vs. Sizer being on trial, and Tabcro dicente in longuin ,* and another snow storm appearing to be on the wing. " My dear Sir : We are in court yet, and so shall be some days longer. We have the evidence in, and a discussion on the law, preliminary to our summing up, is now going on. I think it will con- sume the remainder of this day, if it lasts no longer. Mr. Choate will speak to-morrow, and I close im- mediately after. " I am afraid my luck is always bad, and I fear is always to be so." . . . Here Mr. Webster gpeaks of what he expects, and about which he fears he may be disappointed, and the consequences of it. He then goes on to say, — * Taber making a long plea. A HUMOROUS LETTER. 219 " It will be said, or may be said, hereafter, Mr. Webster was a laborious man in his profession and other pursuits. He never tasted of the bread of idleness. His profession yielded him, at some times, large amounts of income ; but he seems never to have aimed at accumulation, and perhaps was not justly sensible of the importance and duty of preser- vation. Riches were never before his eyes as a lead- ing object of regard. When young and poor, he was more earnest in struggling for eminence than in efforts for making money ; and in after life, rep- utation, public regard, and usefulness in high pur- suits, mainly engrossed his attention. He always said, also, that he was never destined to be rich ; that no such star presided over his birth ; that he never obtained any thing by any attempts or efforts out of the line of his profession ; that his friends, on several occasions, induced him to take an inter- est in business operations ; that, as often as he did so, loss resulted, till he used to say, when spoken to on such subjects, ' Gentlemen, if you have any pro- jects for money-making, I pray you keep me out of them ; my singular destiny mars every thing of that sort, and would be sure to overwhelm your own better fortunes.' " After this he says, — " Mr. Webster was the author of that short biog- raphy of most good lawyers, which has been ascribed to other sources, viz., that they ' lived well-, worked hard, and died poor.^ " 220 Webster's poetry. And in the same letter he tells the following an- ecdote of himself: — Sitting one day at the bar in Portsmouth, with an elderly member of the bar, his friend, who enjoyed with sufficient indulgence that part of a lawyer's lot which consists " in living well," Mr. Webster made an epitaph, which would not be unsuitable : — " Natus consumere fruges 5 Frugibus consumplis, Hie jacet R. C. S."* At the close of the letter, he added the following postscript, relative to the case on trial : — " Half past 2 o'clock — Cessat Taber ; Choate se- quituj', in questione juris, crastino die. t • " Taber is learned, sharp and dry ; Choate full of fancy, soaring high ; Both lawyers of the best report, True to their clients and the court j What sorrow doth a Christian feel, Both should be ' broken on a wheel ! ' " The same gentleman says, " I have many letters like this, and I have always found him, throughout all my travelling, sojourning, and sports with him, one of the most agreeable men, one of the most amiable and playful I ever met with. No one has * Being born to eat fruit ; and having consumed all, here lies Ivi C S. t Taber ceases ; Choate follows, on the question of equity, to- morrow. WEBSTER AND CHOATE. ^l known him more intimately, or has seen him oftencr, under everj variety of circumstances, for fifteen years." We were in the Circuit Court in Boston on a simi- lar, perhaps on the very same occasion, when he and Mr. Choate were pitted against each other in a case in which the violation of a patent for the pro- tection of a new kind of wheel for rail cars was the question at issue. Mr. Choate, after pleading nearly three days, closed with a very pathetic appeal to the sympathies of the jury in behalf of his client. He beotred them to consider the condition of his client, and the effect which would be produced upon him and his family if their verdict was against him. The peroration produced a decided impression. Mr. Webster was to follow immediately. It was his first object to dispel the effect of Mr. Choate's closing appeal. This he did most effectually by a practical joke, which produced a sensation of hilari- ty throughout the whole court room. To appre- ciate its point, it should be known that a short time prior to this trial, Mr. Choate had been invited to give an address on some public occasion in a distant town. When his reply reached the committee from whom he had received the invitation, such was the peculiarity of the chirography, or so badly was the reply written, that none of them could read it. They were obhged to send for some one well skilled 222 choate's handwriting. in deciphering difficult penmanship to translate the document. This anecdote was at that very time going the rounds of the papers. It had been read by many, if not by all, in the court room. After Mr. Choate had finished his plea, and had gone away from the table, where he had left his brief ^ or outline of argument, which was written on a number of loose sheets of paper, Mr. Webster, after a moment's whisper with his distinguished opponent, took up these loose sheets, and turning to the spectators, said, in a very gentlemanly manner, " Ladies, would you like to see a specimen of Mr. Choate's writing ? " and then with his own hands distributed them among the audience. This ingenious ruse was successful. The general burst of laughter, and the universal rush and scrambling after Mr. Choate's hieroglyphics, which were flying like mammoth snow flakes about the room, effectually dispelled the tender, sympathet- ic emotions which had been awakened by the mov- ing peroration of his plea. The mirthfulness did not immediately subside. As each individual who obtained a piece of the mysterious paper looked upon it, his countenance was immediately wreathed in smiles. We were successful in obtaining a sheet, and, tearing it in two, gave half of it to a lady, who seemed to be as anxious for an autograph as our- selves. Upon casting our eye upon it, we had no difficulty in discovering the cause of the pleasantry MR. Webster's practical joke. 223 which all seemed to experience. True, there were on the paper plenty of lines, curves and angles ; but how to put them together so as to make out a single sentence we found impossible. We no longer won- dered at the continued tittering of the audience. While his brief was flying around among the au- dience, Mr. Choate was standing by the stove, with his back to the spectators. A friend stepped up to him, and, we presume, told him what was going on. He looked around, and when he saw how the audi- ence were employed, he stroked his chin, smiled, and turned again towards the stove, apparently en- joying the joke as highly as any. As another specimen of Mr Webster's pleasantry, we refer to a passage in a speech which he gave at Syracuse : — " It has so happened that all the public services which I have rendered to the world, in my day and generation, have been connected with the general gov- ernment. I think I ought to make an exception. I was ten days a member of the Massachusetts legisla- ature, [laughter,] and I turned my thoughts to the search of some good object in which I could be useful in that position ; and after much reflection, I intro- duced a bill, which, with the general consent of both houses of the Massachusetts legislature, passed into a law, and is now a law of the state, which enacts that no man in the state shall catch trout in any 221 MR. Webster's pleasantry. otlier manner than in the old way, with an ordinary hook and line. [Great laughter.] With that ex- ception, I never was connected for an hour witli any state government in my life. I never held office, high or low, under any state government. Perhaps that was my misfortune. " At the age of thirty, I was in New Hampshire, practising law, and had some clients. John Taylor Gil man, who for fourteen years was governor of the state, thought that, a young man as I was, I might be fit to be an attorney general of the State of New Hampshire, and he nominated me to the council ; and the council taking it into their deep considera- tion, and not happening to be of the same politics as the governor and myself, voted, three out of five, that I was not competent ; and very likely they Avere right. [Laughter.] So you see, gentlemen, I never gained promotion in any state government." The New York Daily Times relates the following, which is a kind of practical joke upon Mr. Webster himself : — " Some years ago he started off from Marshfield | on a trouting expedition to Sandwich, a neighbor- t ing town on Cape Cod. On approaching a fine stream, he alighted from his wagon ; and just then he met the owner of the farm, whose stream ran through it. ' Good morning,' says Webster ; ' is there any trout here ? ' ' Well,' says the farmer, THE JOKER JOKED. 225 * some people fish here, but I don't know what they do get.' ' I'll throw my line in,' says Webster, * and see what there is.' « Webster walked the banks of the stream, trying his luck, and the old farmer followed him. Soon Webster remarked, ' You have some bog on your farm.' ' Yes,' says the farmer ; ' that ain't the worst of it.' Fishing still farther along, Webster says, ' You seem to have plenty of mosquitoes here.' * Yes,' he replied, ' that ain't the worst of it.' Web- ster still kept on throwing his line into the deep pools, and then said, ' You have plenty of briers here.' ' Yes,' says the farmer, ' and that ain't the worst of it.' Mr. Webster, getting somewhat dis- couraged, in a hot August day, bitten by mosquitoes, scratched by briers, and not raising a single fish, dropped his rod, and said, ' he didn't beUeve there was any trout here.' ' And that ain't the worst of it,' says the farmer. ' Well,' says Mr. Webster, *I would like to know what the worst of it is.^ * Tlure never was any here I ' says the farmer. Mr. Webster enjoyed the joke, and often told it to his particular friends." In 1841, when he was secretary of state, he came home from the department, where he had been en- gaged in official interviews with foreign ministers, and taking from his parlor a small basket, very ele- gantly ornamented, he immediately left the house. 15 226 MR. WEBSTER BUYING EGGS. After an absence of half an hour, he returned, and handed' Mrs. Webster the same basket, but with its weight greatly increased. Imagine her surprise, when, as she looked in, she found it filled with hens' eggs. Feeling, perhaps, a little mortified that her distinguished companion should descend to so inappropriate an employment, she inquired the reason of his conduct. Her husband replied, that he had been " all the morning discussing with the diplomatic corps the affairs of some half dozen of the principal kingdoms of the world, and, as he was fond of seeing both ends meet, he only wished to realize how it would seem for him, a secretary of state, to turn from such imposing business to the opposite extreme, of purchasing, within the same hour, a basket of newly-laid eggs." On one occasion, many years ago, when Mr. Web- ster was in the Senate, just as he arose to speak, a ministerial-looking stranger in the gallery suddenly cried out, so as to be heard by the whole Senate, " My friends, the country is on the brink of destruc- tion ; be sure that you act on correct principles. I warn you to act as your consciences may approve. God is looking down upon you, and if you act upon correct principles, you will get safely through." Havii:;!; thus discharged what he probably regarded as a responsible duty, he stepped back, and quietly disap])eared, without giving the officers time to seize HIS SKILL IN RIFLE SHOOTING. 227 him. Of course such an unlooked-for interruption threw the Senate into confusion. Some laughed, some conversed jestingly with each other, some left their seats, and several minutes elapsed before the chairman succeeded in restoring order. During all the excitement Mr. Webster retained his standing posture, ready to commence so soon as the oppor- tunity should be presented. The favorable moment having arrived, the first sentence he uttered was this : ^^ As the gentleman in the gallery has concluded^ I will proceed with my remarks^ How much better was this pleasantry than though he had indulged in an outburst of passion at the disturbance, and in- sisted that the gallery should be cleared of spec- tators ! Mr. Webster was good at a rifle shot, as well as with hook and fly. When travelling through the State of Ohio, a number of years ago, in company with a friend, he came upon a party of Buckeye farmers, who were testing their skill in the use of the gun, by firing at a target for turkeys. Having reined in his horses, for the purpose of enjoying the sport as a spectator, he was invited by the free-and- easy marksmen to try his skill. He was not unwill- ing to comply. It was an amusement with which he was familiar. After examining several rifles, in a manner which evinced his acquaintance with the instrument, he selected one of the best, and, with 228 HIS DINNER WITH THE BUCKEYES. the motley group of rough-looking western farmers standing around him, he raised the weapon to his eye, and in a moment sent a ball directly t^irough the centre of the target. He was acknowledged a good shot, and had one of the finest turkeys in the flock presented to him. Then the questions went round, " Who is this ? Where's he from ? What's his business ? Where is he going ? " But no sat- isfaction could they obtain. They finally invited him to dine with them at an inn near by. He con- sented. Their curiosity being highly excited to learn who this skilful marksman was, his friend took the liberty of introducing him at the dinner as the Hon. Daniel Webster, member of Congress. Great was their pleasurable astonishment to learn that their stranger guest was the distinguished individual who had recently delivered a famous speech in Congress, of which they had heard, and some of them had read. As he had discoursed so effectively from the rifle's mouth, they wanted to hear some words of eloquence fall from his own. He was, therefore, called out J — perhaps by one of the party giving a toast in his honor. In responding to the call, he addressed to them a few appropriate remarks, and then proceeded on his journey. They earnestly en- deavored to induce him to fire another rifle ; but he was too wise to incur the liability of losing their good opinion of his skill by attempting a second WEBSTER AXI> THE BUCKEYES. HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE SNOBS. •229 u crack shot." Not only did he put a ball through the centre of the target, but succeeded in making so favorable an impression upon their hearts, that some of them accompanied him twenty miles on his journey. This incog, character was the occasion of another adventure, but of a somewhat different nature. When in company, Mr. Webster always dressed like a gentleman ; but when on his farm, or on a fishing or crunning excursion, his costume was char- acterized for its appropriateness. He could be mis- taken for no other character than the one he had assumed. In his gunning or fishing toggery, no stranger would suspect him of being any thing more than he seemed. On one occasion he was out after wild ducks, in company with his man, Seth Peter- son, when they fell in with " a couple of Boston sporting snobs," who were in difficulty because there was a bog in the way, which they could not cross without getting wet. Judging of Mr. Webster from bis costume, they supposed him to be one of the rustic farmers of Marshfield, and therefore asked him to carry them on his back to a dry point on the other side of the bog. Without revealing himself to them, Mr. Webster consented. After he had complied with their request, and had received from each of them a quarter of a dolhir for the job, they inquired, in a flippant, familiar manner, » Is old 230 DECEPTIVE APPEARANCES. Webster at home 1 We've had such miserable luck in shooting, that we should like to honor him with a call." To this question, expressed in such an un- dignified manner, Mr. Webster calmly replied, " that the gentleman alluded to was not at home just then, but would be as soon as he could walk to the house, and he would be glad to see them at dinner." What reply these sporting gentlemen made to this rebuke is not recorded, but evidence is furnished that they did not dine with " old Webster " that day. Young men should be careful not to form an opinion of others from their external appearance. A noble character is ofttimes concealed under an unfashionable costume. It is especially dangerous, in country places, to infer the social standing of a stranger from the garb in which he appears. The employment of a farmer forbids the wearing of fine broadcloth, French satin, and polished calfskin, when engaged in his daily occupation. And if, because the fabric of his garments is coarse, and their sur- face soiled, any one should infer that poverty of purse, feebleness of intellect, and a low social posi- tion were among his possessions, and should treat liim accordingly, he would incur the liability of making a discovery which would very justly over- whelm him with mortification. The wisest course is, to treat every man, whatever may be his appear- YOUNG Webster's wit. 231 ance, as a gentleman, until we learn his forfeiture of that character. The natural humor of Mr. Webster, of which we have given several illustrations, manifested itself in earlj childhood. On one occasion, when he and his brother Ezekiel were boys, after they had gone to bed, they got into a controversy about some passage in the Columbian Orator, a famous school book of that day ; they left their pillows, and began some researches in order to settle the dispute ; in so doing they managed to set their bedclothes on fire, and narrowly escaped consuming the house. When asked, the next morning, how the accident was caused, Daniel replied, " We loere in pursuit of light, hut got more than we wanted.''^ At another time their father gave them a certain piece of work to perform during his absence from the house ; but finding, upon his return, that the task was unperformed, he questioned the boys with some degree of sternness concerning their employ- ment : — ",What have you been doing, Ezekiel ] "^ " Nothing, sir," was his answer. " Well, Daniel, what have you been doing ? " " Helping ZcJcc, s?V." How much help " Zeke " required to do nothing, we are not informed. The same native humor peeps out in the reply he 232 THE VENERABLE TROUT, . gave to a friend wlio asked liim what he intended to speak about in his historical address, in New York, on the next day. " I am going," said he, " to be excessively learned and classical, and shall talk much about the older citizens of Greece. When I make my appearance in Broadway to-morrow, people will accost me thus : » Good morning, Mr. Webster. Recently from Greece, I understand. How did you leave Mr. Pericles and Mr. Aristophanes ? ' " The address alluded to in this playful manner was one of rare excellence. It was instructive, classical, eloquent. So great was the desire to hear him, that tickets for admission were sold, in some instances, for a hundred dollars. Frequently, wiien Mr. Webster was engaged in his favorite amusements of riding, gunning, and fish- ing, his mind would revert to the great themes which his office or his profession required him to discuss and settle. Some of the interesting passages in his addresses were prepared on these occasions. It is stated that, at one time, when engaged in angling, as he drew a large trout from the water, he exclaimed, as if addressing his captive, and re- garding it as the representative of others, " Venera- ble men ! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day." ADVANTAGES OF GOOD HUMOR. 233 And these very words were afterwards employed in his oration at the laying of the corner stone of the Bunker Hill monument, when he addressed the vet- erans — the few surviving soldiers of that memora- ble batrie. It is a great mistake to suppose that cheerful hu- mor and sparkling wit should never be indulged. They are the developments of an element of char- acter which tends greatly to the promotion of human happiness. Ofttimes, when the brow is wrinkled with care, and the heart filled with sadness, some humorous remark, or sparkling repartee, or the re- lation of some ridiculous incident, or amusing anec- dote, will smooth that brow, and neutralize the sad- ness of the burdened spirit. In the walks of grave professional hfe, exhibitions of good humor are like beautiful wild flowers, peeping here and there from the rocks and crevices by the roadside, which, by their delicate colors and pleasant perfume, afford delight to the weary traveller, who would otherwise be oppressed with the monotony and gloominess of the way. Flowers of this kind Mr. Webster both culled and cultivated. He knew, also, how to use them. There were few men more genial, more hu- morous, or who could more easily set " the table in a roar," than he. His relation of anecdotes always produced a decided effect. 234 Webster's spelling book. He was also exceedingly happy in giving a pleas- ant turn, in social company, to topics on which he difiered from otiieis. The followin"" is an instance. In 1847 he visited Cliarleston, South Carolina. A dinner was given him. There were present, at the tahle those with whose political sentiments he had no sympathy — those whom he had felt it his duty to ^ipose, in Congress and elsewhere, with all the weight of his personal talents and official position. After heing called out hy a toast, which was drank in his honor, he closed his speech in the following agreeable manner : — " Gentlemen, allow me to tell you of an incident. At Raleigh, a gentleman, purposing to call on me, asked his son, a little lad, if he did not wish to go and see Mr. Webster. The boy answered, ' Is it that INIr. Webster who made the spelling book, and sets me so many hard lessons ? If so, I never want to see him as long as I live,' " Now, gentlemen, I am that Mr. W^ebster who holds sentiments, on some subjects, not altogether acceptable, I am sorry to say, to some portions of the South. But I set no lessons ; I make no spell- ing bboks. If I spell out some portions of the Con- stitution of the United States in a manner different from that practised by others, I readily concede, nevertheless, to all others a right to disclaim my AN AGREEABLE SCHOOLMASTER. 235 spelling, and adopt an orthography more suitable to their own opinions, leaving ail to tliat general pub- lic judgment to whicii we must, in the end, all sub- mit." And when he took his seat, the following toast was submitted : " Here's to the agreeable schoolmaster — who sets no lessons," I CHAPTER XIII. Mr. Webster an early Riser. — His Letter on the Morning-. — Ad- am's Morning's. — What to observe in the Morning. — Dr. Dod- dridge on early Rising-. — Beauties of Marshfield. — Mr. Web- ster's Love of Trees. — He protects Birds. — His Reward. — The Quails. — He tames wild Geese. — His Interest in the natural Sciences. — Presents Audubon with Birds. — The Wall- flower. — The Sound of the Sea. — Lessons of Nature. — Dig- nity of the Study of Nature. A PRACTICE of Mf. Webster, which he seems to have kept up through life, was tliat of early rising. Long before tlie first gray streak in the eastern ho- rizon heralded the approach of the " king of day," he was up, dressed, and in the depth of his day's | work. It was his uniform practice to despatch his study and correspondence by the middle of the fore- noon. On one occasion he said, " What little I have accomplished has been done early in the morn- ing." In a letter to an agricukural convention, he wrote, " When a boy among my native hills of New Hampshire, no cocJc crowed so early that I did not hear him.'''' During his residence at Washington, he was accustomed to visit the market, make his pur- chases, and converse familiarly with the butchers and farmers, long before the citizens of the capital were 236 WEBSTER AN EARLY RISER. 237 Stirring. Strangers in Washington, after learning this fact, would themselves go to the market in the early dawn, for the purpose of getting a sight of the great statesman. Mr. Lanman says, " Mr. Webster admired, above all. things, to see the sun rise, especially from his chamber window at Marshfield. He appreciated the moral sublimity of the spectacle, and it ever seemed to fill his mind with mighty conceptions. On many occasi(ms, at sunrise, both in the spring and autumn, has he stolen into the chamber occupied by the writer, which looked upon the sea, and, with only his dressing gown on, has stood by his bedside, and startled tlie writer out of a deep sleep, by a loud shout somewhat to this effect : — " ' Awake, sluggard ! and look upon this glorious scene ; for the sky and the ocean are enveloped in flames ! ' " On one occasion the v^^riter was awakened in a similar manner at a very early hour, when, lo, Mr. Webster, who happened to be in a particularly play- ful mood, was seen going through the graceful mo- tions of an angler, throwing a fly and striking a trout, and then, without speaking a word, disap- peared. As a matter of course, that day was given to fishing." In 1852 Mr. Webster visited Virginia ; he contin- ued his habit there. As one of its results, we have 238 HIS LETTER ON THE MORNING. the following beautifully descriptive account of the morning;. None but a passionate lover of the early dawn could have written it. "Richmond, Va., > Five o'clock, A. M., April 29, 1852. > " My dear Friend : Whether it be a favor or an annoyance, you owe this letter .to my early habits of rising. From the hour marked at the top of the page, you will naturally conclude tliat my compan- ions are not now engaging my attention, as we have not calculated on being early travellers to-day. " This city has a * pleasant seat.' It is high ; the James River runs below it, and when I went out, an hour ago, nothing was heard but the roar of the falls. The air is tranquil, and its temperature mild. It is morning, and a morning sweet, and fresh, and delightful. Every body knows the morning in its metaphorical sense, applied to so many occasions. The health, strength, and beauty of early years lead us to call that period the ' morning of life.' Of a lovely young woman we say, she is ' bright as the morning,' and no one doubts why Lucifer is called ' son of the morning.' " But the morning itself, few people, inhabitants of cities, know any thing about. Among all our good people, no one in a thousand sees the sun rise once in a year. They know nothing of the morn- ing. Their idea of it is, that it is that part of the METAPHORICAL ALLUSIONS. 239 day which comes along after a cup of coffee and a beefsteak, or a piece of toast. With them morning is • not a new issuing of hght, a new bursting forth of the sun, a new waking up of all that has life, from a sort of temporary death, to behold again the works of God, the heavens and the earth ; it is only a part of the domestic day, belonging to reading the newspapers, answering notes, sending the children to school, and giving orders for dinner. The first streak of hght, the earliest purpling of the east, which the lark springs up to greet, and the deeper and deeper coloring into orange and red, till at length the 'glorious sun is seen, regent of the day,' — this they never enjoy, for they never see it. «' Beautiful descriptions of the morning abound in all languages ; but they are the strongest, perhaps, in the East, where the sun is often an object of worship. "King David speaks of taking to himself the * wings of the morning.' This is highly poetical and beautiful. The wings of the morning are the beams of the rising sun. Rays of light are wings. It is thus said that the Sun of righteousness shall arise < with healing in his wings ' — a rising sun that shall scatter life, health, and joy throughout the universe. " Milton has fine descriptions of morning, but not so many as Shakspeare, from whose writings pages 240 adam's mornings. of the most beautiful imagery, all founded on the glory of the morning, might be filled. " I never thought that Adam had much the ad- vantage of us, from having seen the world while it was new. " The manifestations of the power of God, like his mercies, are ' new every morning,' and fresh every moment. " We see as fine risino;s of the sun as ever Adam saw ; and its risings are as much a miracle now as they were in his day, and I think a good deal more, because it is now a part of the miracle that, for thousands and thousands of years, he has come to his appointed time, without the variation of a mil- lionth part of a second. Adam could not tell how this might be. I know the morning ; I am acquaint- ed witli it, and I love it. I love it fresh and sweet as it is — a daily new creation, breaking forth and calling all that have life, and breath, and being, to new adoration, new enjoyments, and new gratitude. " Daniel Webster." *' We see as fine risings of the sun as ever Adam saw." How interesting is that thought ! By rising early, and looking from an upper window, or as- cending some small eminence which gives us the command of the horizon, we may behold a scene of as much magnificence as greeted the eyes of EARLY RISING. 241 Adam, when the first rays of the rising sun gilded the beauties of paradise. Try it, young reader. Rise before the sun ; go forth to hail his coming ; play in the beams sent forth by his upper edge, be- fore his centre makes its appearance ; observe care- fully the effects produced upon the appearance of the various objects upon hill, tree, cloud, lake, and building, as the darkness flees away, and the gray dawn brightens into the full light of day ; and if you possess a particle of the love of the beauti- ful, you will acknowledge that no display of the pyr- otechnic art can bear any comparison to the gor- geous splendor of the scene before you. Those who lounge away their time upon their pillow are not aware of the amount which the ag- gregate of these lost hours would make. Dr. Dod- dridge has said that the difference between rising at five and seven o'clock in the morning for the space of forty years, supposing a man to go to bed at the same hou^at night, is nearly equiv^alent to the addi- tion of ten years to a man's life. It follows that he who desires to lengthen his life in respect to its practical influence, should rise ear- lier than he has been accustomed to. All the time that he thus redeems from the pillow is so much added to active existence. In addition to this, the freshness of the morning air, and the renovation which the mind has received 16 2^12 BEAUTIES OF MARSHFIELD. from its recent sleep, by which the clearness of its perceptions and the rapidity of its operations are increased, render this a peculiarly favorable time . f )r intellectual pursuits. Mr. Webster's habit in this respect was similar to that of many other distinguished characters. Buffon, the great natiiralist, ascribes the existence of many voluines of his works to his practice of early rising. We have already remarked that Mr. Webster was a lover of nature. This was evinced in his choice of a residence at Marshfield, where hill, pond, for- est, and ocean combine their peculiar beauties to render the place attractive, and also by his assiduous care, with which all the peculiar charms of the place have been developed. General Lyman, in a letter which he wrote in November, 1843, at Marshfield, says, " Mr. Webster, seeing the interest I manifested yesterday on the subject of the forest, which is periodically cut down for wood, and suffered to grow up again^fwas kind enough to show me vast numbers of trees, prob- ably one hundred thousand, which he has plant- ed from the seed with his own hands. They are, however, yet small. He said his way had been to sow the seed, in favorable places, of the locust, horsechestnut, catalpa, &c., some of which have been transplanted at an early age, and others left to grow up in thickets. A little belt of wood thus i siSi^j MB, WEBSTER AT MARSHPIELD. , PLANTING TREES. 243 produced, rione of the trees of which have bcc:i planted more than a dozen or thirteen years, bound- ing the lawn and pond on one side, is already so high and dense as to afford a perfectly shaded walk through the centre of it, not only making a beautiful promenade, but filling up the background of tlie landscape, of which the lawn and pond constitute prominent features. "Mr. Webster spoke in warm terms — terms al- most of indignation — of the stupidity of persons who omit to plant trees from an idea that they may not live to see their growth and beauty, or to taste their fruits. He reminded me of Walter Scott's good advice on this subject. He would plant a tree which would be growing while others were sleeping. "He spoke of the just and excellent taste of Sir Walter Scott, on all subjects of this kind, and re- ferred to two articles written for the London Quar- terly Review, some years ago, on planting trees, landscape, &c., as being full of instruction. ' Where is the man,' said Mr. Webster, ' who does not ad- mire the principle which actuated the late Stephen Girard, of Philadelphia, who, when bending over the grave with age, said he would plant a tree to-day if he knew he were to die to-morrow ? If every man were actuated by such sentiments, what a change it would produce in the affairs of the world ! ' 244 THE HILL CHANGED. " He showed me eight or nine specimens of oak ; several of them he had obtained from the Southern States ; all the varieties of pines and cedars, and the arbor vitse, from Maine ; various sorts of ash, maple, and the buckeye from Ohio ; and the sweet gum from Virginia. '* For these last two, however, the climate was found somewhat too severe. The whitewood, as we call it in New York and Ohio, — properly the liriodcndron, or tulip tree, — appears to grow well. Hedses of buckthorn line the avenue to the house, stand the climate well, and are very handsome. *' In a few years these trees, according to my prediction, will be the admiration of every body, and branches of them will be cut and carried away by future generations, who will know the biography of the great man of our time, as branches are now cut and carried away from the trees which grow on the plantations of other sages, whose pillars are in the dust. The handsome wooden eminence near the house is now beautifully covered with a thicket of locusts, catalpas, young cherry trees, &c. This little hill, twelve years ago, was perfectly naked, and the sand was blown about by the wind. A lady, visiting Mrs. Webster, begged that so unsightly an object might be made to mend its appearance. Her advice was followed, and six years afterwards, visit- ing Marshfield again, she clapped her hands with MR. WEBSTER PROTECTS BIRDS. 245 admiration at the success of what si e had recom- mended." Althoui^h Mr. Webster was fond of sunninsr, and often went out for that purpose, being an " excellent shot," yet he allowed no gun to be fired upon his premises. Such birds and game as approached his house, or made it their home any where on his grounds, he would not allow to be disturbed. The delightful effect of this kind treatment is described as follows by his visitor : — " I was struck with the tameness of several httle animals and birds, which I have elsewhere found quite wild and shy. A squirrel, for instance, sat almost within our reach, eating a nut, and hearing us talk, without the least indication of fear. The birds hopped about, singing their wild notes, as if unconscious of our presence. A brood of quails had actually been hatched between the house and the gate, in the hedge that lines the carriage way to the door. I inquired why this was so ; he said, ' During the whole time I have been there, I have endeavored to cultivate their acquaintance, and have never permitted their nests to be disturbed ; nor do I allow guns to be fired on the premises, nor sticks or stones to be thrown at them, nor any thing done that would frighten them away. They seem to know where they are well treated, and come with the sea- sons to enjoy my protection.' " 246 REWARD OF PROTECTION. On one occasion, Mr. Webster was walking over his orounds with a s^entleman from Boston, when a flock of quails darted across the road only a few feet from them. The gentleman was highly excited at the discovery of the game, and longed to try his skill with powder and ball. " O, if I only had a gun," said he, " I could easily kill the whole flock. Have you not one in your house, sir 1 " *' Yes, sir," replied Mr. Webster, with his usual cahnness — " yes, sir, I have a number of guns ; but no man whatsoever do I ever permit to kill a bird^ rabbit, or squirrel, on any of my property." He then proceeded to condemn the indiscriminate slaughtering propensities of the Americans. " In this country," said he, "there is an almost universal passion for killing and eating every wild animal that chances to cross the pathway of man ; while in England and other portions of Europe these animals are kindly protected and valued for their companionship. This is to me a great myste- ry ; and so far as my influence extends, the birds shall be protected." Just at this moment one of the little fugitive quails, that the visitor was so anxious to kill, mounted a little eminence, and poured forth a song, as if in gratitude to its humane protector. " There," said Mr. Webster, " does not that gush of song do the heart a thousand fold more good than could possibly be derived from the death of that « MR. WEBSTER TAMES WILD GEESE. 247 beautiful bird ? " The stranger returned his thanks to Mr. Webster for his gentle reproof, and subse- quently acknowledged that " this httle incident made him love the man whom he had before only admired as a statesman." Mr. Webster, in the earnestness of his desire to surround his dwelling at Marshfield with the charms of animated nature, has succeeded in accomplish- ing, what very few persons in this country have ever attempted, viz., the taming of wild geese. "The value and pictorial beauty of Marshfield are greatly enhanced," says Mr. Lanman, " by the existence, in the immediate vicinity of the mansion, of a trio of little lakes, all of them fed by springs of the purest water. The two smaller ones are the favorite haunts of the common geese and the duck tribes ; but the larger one, which sttids the landscape very charmingly, is the exclusive domain of a large flock of wild geese which Mr. Webster had domesticated. He informed the writer that his first attempts to tame these beautiful creatures were all unsuccessful, until the idea occurred to him that perhaps they might be made contented with their civihzed abode, provided they could have awarded to them small sedgy islands, such as were found at their breeding-places in the far north, where they might make their nests and remain undisturbed by the fox and other prowling animals. The experiment was tried ; and while 248 LOVE OF NATURE. the geese were rendered contented with tlieir h>t, the. lake itself his been greatly improved in pictur- esque beauty by its wild yet artificial islands. In- deed, the rural scenery of Marshfield is all that could be desired by the painter or poet ; but when they come to add thereto an immense expanse of marsh land, veined with silver streams, dotted with islands of unbroken forest, skirted with a far-reach ing beach, and bounded by the blue ocean, they can- not but be deeply impressed with the magnificence of its scenery." Mr. Webster's love of Nature was not superficial. Whilst lie greatly admired all her external features, he was interested in the study of her laws. In his li- brary was a collection of rare and valuable works on the various departments of natural history, and thenat- ural sciences, the perusal of which afforded him great pleasure whenever he could secure time for the pur- pose. On a certain occasion, when these subjects were made the topics of conversation, he said that he wished he could live three lives while living this. "One I would devote to the study of geology — to reading the earth's history of itself. Another hfe I would devote to astronomy. I have recently read the history of that science, written so clearly, that, althouo-h I am no mathematician, I could understand it, and was astonished at seeing to what heights it WEBSTER AND AUDUBON. 249 had been puslied by modern intellects. The other I would devote to the classics." It is an interesting- fact, and one on which the young would do well to ponder, that, as Mr. Webster advanced in years, his mind was withdrawn from themes and speculations which interested him in the earlier periods of his life, and was devoted, with in- creased pleasure, to the contemplation and study of nature. Amongst all the visitors who were honored with the hospitality of his elegant mansion, there were few so cheerfully welcomed as those who were devoted to the investigation of natural objects. With these Mr. Webster loved to converse, and ex- change items of information. He also furnished such individuals every facility in his power for the prosecution of their studies. The celebrated Audu- bon was one of his personal friends ; and on one occasion, when the great ornithologist was visiting Marshfieid, " he was presented by Mr. Webster with a wagon load of miscellaneous birds, which the lat- ter had ordered to be killed by his hunters all along the coast, and among them was the identical Canada goose which figures so beautifully in the ' Birds of America.' Mr. Webster has said that the delighted naturalist studied the attitude of that single goose for an entire daj , and that he was three days in tak- ing its portrait.' 250 SOUND OF THE SEA. At another time, in conversation with a clerj,'yman, — Rev. Dr. Clioules, — he gave utterance to tlie fol- lowing beautiful sentiments ; — " When I was in England I was greatly pleased with the wallflower, so often seen upon the walls of ruins and decaying buildings. The country people call it the bloody wallflower. I seldom picked this sweet-scented flower without thinking of the hopes and wishes of life — the best and sweetest of my life all surrounded with ruin and decay : still we must look out for the blossoms of hope." " I have been reading White's Selbourne once more. What moral beauty there was in White's mind ! How he revelled in quiet country life ! and when he became deaf, and could no longer hear the birds sing, yet he thanks God that his eyesight is still quick and good." Walking in the evening at Marshfield, and gazing at the sea, Mr. Webster stopped, and placing his hand upon the shoulder of the same gentleman, re- cited several verses of Mrs. Hemans's impressive poem on the Sound of the Sea ; " Thou art sounding' on, thou mighty sea, Forever and the same j The ancient rocks yet ring to thee, Whose thunders nought can tame. <' O, many a glorious voice is gone From the rich bowers of earth, " ^51 LESSONS OF NATURE. '^' And hushed is many a lovely one Of mournfulness or mirlh. " But thou art swelling' on, thou deep, Throug'h many an olden clime, Thy billowy anthems ne'er to sleep Until the close of time." The study of nature is one of the noblest employ- ments of the human mind. We are then brought into direct contact with the works of the Creator. We are furnished with conclusive evidences of his existence and attributes. Not only by these pursuits is the taste refined, and the love of the beautiful strengthened, but an influence is exerted favorable to the cultivation of moral character. .Besides, in the study of nature we need not go far for lessons. They spring up in the beautiful flowers which ornament our path ; they smile upon us in the stars above our head ; we may read them upon the tapestry of the ever-changing clouds, in the architecture of mountains, and the solemn grandeur of ancient forests ; they whisper around us in the buzzing of insects ; they charm us in the melody of birds ; they fill us with awe in the howling of the storm, the roaring of the angry ocean, and the ter- rific tones of the threatening thunder. They are spread out all around us on nature's ample page, and whenever so disposed, we may study them to our ♦* heart's content." We are aware of a class of in- 252 DIGNITY OF NATURE. dividuals in the community who look with a feeHng bordering upon contempt on pursuits of this nature. Picking weeds to pieces, or carefully examining the formation of an insect, or a reptile, they seem to regard as totally unworthy so exalted a being as man. They cherish a feeling of pity bordering on con- tempt for those who are devoted to such pur- suits. It would be well for such persons to consider whether any thing, which the all-wise Creator has not deemed as beneath himself to make, can be un- worthy for us to examine and admire, and whether it may not exhibit a want of suitable regard for the Creator himself, when the displays of his power and glory, as exhibited in the works of his hand, fail of attracting attention, or of awakening admiration. CHAPTER XIV. Mr. Webster's Candor. — Mr. Ketchum's Testimony. — Direction to Mr. Everett.— His Magnanimity. — Dr. Choules's Testimo- ny. — Webster and Dickenson.— Webster's Eulog-y on Cal- houn. — Character of his Mind. — His impressive Manner. — He will be remembered. — Webster and Hayne. — How to treat Opponents. — Charity. The nobleness of Mr. Webster's nature was ex- hibited in a striking manner on different occasions, when he endeavored to prevent the perpetuity of personal feuds. In the exciting debates of Con- gress it was natural, under the influence of tempo- rary impulse, that language should be used, which, in a calmer mood, the speaker himself would not justify. Such instances, however, were exceedingly rare in the speeches of Mr. Webster. He seemed always to appreciate the dignity of his character as a senator of the most powerful republic on earth, and evinced an unwillingness to do or say any thing that was unbecoming his exalted position. He was not insensible to the high standing of his opponents, neither was he unwilling to accord to them his meed of praise for their genius and learning. Hiram Ketchum, Esq., of New York, in a brief eulogy upon Mr. Webster, among other things, said, 253 254 MR. KETC hum's TESTIMONY. " I have known him in private and domestic life. During tlie last twenty-five years I have received many letters from him, some of which I retain, and some have been destroyed at his request. I have had the jDleasure of meeting him often in pri- vate circles, and at the festive board, where 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 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, would not receive all the relief in his power to bestow." Another illustration of his magnanimity is fur- nished in his direction to the Hon. Edward Everett, when carrying Mr. Webster's Works through the press, to suppress all allusions which were adapted to perpetuate personal feuds. In allusion to this fact, Mr. Everett, in his beautiful eulogy upon Mr. Webster, says, — ** In preparing the new edition of his works, he Webster's magnanimity. 255 thought proper to leave ahnost mrery thing to my discretion — as far as matters of taste are concerned. One tiling only he enjoined upon me, with an ear- nestness 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 character of the speech, and thus doing essential in- justice to me, to obliterate every trace of personali- ty 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 contain less occasion for such an in- junction. Mr. Webster habitually abstained from the use of the poisoned weapons of personal invec- tive or party odium. No one could more studiously abstain from all attempts to make a political oppo- nent personally hateful. If the character of our congressional discussions has of late years somewhat declined in dignity, no portion of the blame lies at his door." A gentleman who was on familiar terms with him for years says, " In all the interviews which I had the happiness and honor to enjoy with this great man, I cannot remember that I ever heard him utter an 256 WEBSTER AND DICKENSON. unkind, acrimonious, or uncharitable remark upon any man. Once, wher a gentleman had named some violent censures heaped upon him in his pub- lic character, Mr. Webster calmly replied, ' Perhaps my calumniator's misfortunes have soured his tem- perament, for I remember him a very kindly-dis- posed person ; we must make allowances for the in- firmities of age.' The provocation had been very great, and his motives had been wantonly assailed, yet his considerate and magnanimous spirit tri- umphed nobly upon this occasion." * As another instance, we relate the following : After the negotiation of the Ashburton treaty, by which very complicated and threatening difficulties between this and the mother country were adjusted, Mr. Webster had serious charges alleged against him in the United States Senate by Hon. Mr. Dick- enson. These charges he repelled in strong lan- guage. When, in 1850, Mr. Webster left the Senate in order to enter upon his duties as Secretary of State, he addressed the following letter to Mr. Dick- enson. The pai)iful occurrences to which he refers are those connected with that debate. " Washington, Sept. 27, 1850. " My dear Sir : Our companionship in the Sen- ate is dissolved. After this long and most impor- * Rev. Dr. Choules. HIS LETTER TO BiCKENSON. 257 lant session, you are about to return to your home, and I shall try to find leisure to visit mine. I hope we may meet each other again two months hence, for the discharge of our duties in our respective sta- tions in the government. But life is uncertain, and I have not felt willing to take leave of you without placing in your hands a note containing a very few words which I wish to say to you. " In the earlier part of our acquaintance, my dear sir, occurrences took place which I remember with constantly-increasing regret and pain, because, the more I have known of you, the greater have been my esteem for your character and my respect for your talents. But it is your noble, able, man- ly, and patriotic conduct in support of the great measure of this session which has entirely won my heart, and secured my highest regard. 1 hope you may live long to serve your country ; but I do not thitik you are ever likely to see a crisis in which you may be able to do so much either for your own distinction or the public good. You have stood where others have fallen ; you have advanced with firm and manly step where others have wa- vered, faltered, and fallen back ; and for one, I desire to thank you, and to commend your conduct, out of the fulness of an honest heart. " This letter needs no reply ; it is, I am aware, of very httle value ; but I have thought you might be 17 25S EULOGY ON CALHOUN. willing to receive it, and, perhaps, to leave it where it would be seen by those who shall come after you. I pray you, when you reach your own threshold, to remember me most kindly to your wife and daughter. || I remain, my dear sir, with the truest esteem, *' Your friend and obedient servant, " Daniel Webster. " Hon. D. S. Dickenson, U. S. Senate." Another interesting illustration of his noble high mindedness was furnished in his eulogy upon Mr. Calhoun, of South Carolina. On some of the most important questions ever discussed by Congress, and in some of the most intensely-exciting debates, he and Mr. Calhoun were opponents. On the floor of the Senate, that great arena for intellectual chivalry, they measured lances. A spectator might have im- agined that in heart, as well as in political opinion, • they were strongly hostile to each other. Yet when it was announced in the Senate by Mr. Butler, his colleague, that Mr. Calhoun had deceased, Mr. Webster arose and delivered a beautiful eulogy, from which we make the following extracts, which show how highly he could appreciate the talents and character of an honorable opponent, and with what felicity he could express his admiration. a " I hope the Senate will indulge me in adding a very few words to what has been said. My apology EULOGY ON CALHOUN. 259 for this presumption is tlie very long acquaintance which has subsisted between Mr. Calhoun and my- self. We were of the same age. I made my first entrance into the House of Representatives in May, 1813. I found there Mr. Calhoun. He had already been a member of that body for two or three years. I found him there an active and efficient member of the House, taking a decided part, and exercising a decided influence in all its deliberations. ^' From that day to the day of his death, amidst all the strifes of party and politics, there has subsisted between us always, and without interruption, a great degree of persoyial kindness. ■" Differing widely on many great questions re- specting our institutions and the government of the country, those difterences never interrupted our per- sonal and social intercourse. I have been present at most of the distinguished instances of the exhibi- tion of his talents in debate. I have always heard him with pleasure, often with much instruction, not unfrequently with the highest degree of admira- 4 tion. " Mr. Calhoun was calculated to be a leader in whatsoever association of political friends he was thrown. He was a man of undoubted genius and of commanding talent. All the country and all the world admit that. His mind was both perceptive and vigorous. It was clear, quick, and strong. 260 MR. Calhoun's eloquence. " Sir, the eloquence of Mr. Calhoun, or the manner in which he exhibited his sentiments in public bodies, was part of his intellectual character. It grew out of the qualities of his mind. It was plain, strong, terse, condensed, concise, sometimes impassioned, still always severe. Rejecting ornament, not often seeking far for illustration, his power consisted in the plainness of his propositions, in the closeness of his logic, and in the earnestness and energy of his manner. These are the qualities, as I think, which have enabled him through such a long course of years to speak often, and yet always command atten- tion. His demeanor as a Senator is known to us all — is appreciated, venerated, by us all. No man was more respectful to others ; no man carried him- self with greater decorum, no man with superior dignity. I think there is not one of us, when he last addressed us from his seat in the Senate, — his form still erect, with a voice by no means indicating such a degree of physical weakness as did in fact possess him, with clear tones, and an impressive, and, I may say, an imposing manner, — who did not feel that he micrht imajfine that we saw before us a Senator of Rome while Rome survived. " Mr. President, he had the basis, the indispensable basis, of all high character — and that was unspotted integrity and unimpeached honor. If he had aspi- rations, they were high, and honorable, and noble. WEBSTER AND HAYNE, 261 There was nothing grovelling, or low, or meanly selfish that came near the head or heart of Mr. Calhoun " He has hved long enough, he has done enough ; and he has done it so well, so successfully, so honor- ably, as to connect himself for all time with the records of his country. He is now an historical character. Those of us who have known him here will find that he has left upon our minds and our hearts a strong and lasting impression of his person, his character, and his public per- formances, which, while we live, will never be obliterated. We shall hereafter, I am sure, indulge it as a greatful recollection that we have lived in his age, that we have been his contemporaries, that we have seen, and heard him, and known him. We shall delight to speak of him to those who are rising up to fill our places. And when the time shall come that we ourselves must go, one after another, to our graves, we shall carry with us a deep sense of his genius and character, liis honor and integrity, his amiable deportment in private life, and the purity of his exalted patriotism." Mr. Hayne was a far more violent controver- sialist than Mr. Calhoun. His attack upon Mr. Webster and upon Massachusetts in the Senate on Mr. Foot's resolution, so unprovoked, so gracefully 262 MAGNAJflMITY. acrimonious, called forth from Mr. Webster what has been termed his " great speech," yet when Mr. Webster visited South Carolina, subsequently to the death of Mr. Hayne, he took occasion to speak publicly of his deceased opponent in the most re- spectful manner. His animosities, if he had any, seemed to have been buried in the grave of his distinguished competitor. We have dwelt upon this trait of character the longer, because we desire to commend it strongly to the imitation of the young. We all have opponents. Where the opposition is merely one of opinion, it is comparatively harmless. We may differ in senti- ment without any interruption of friendly relations. Yet in that case it is eminently . desirable that each should treat his opponent with great courtesy. They should be careful not to impugn each others motives, not to indulgre in criminations and recriminations, not to exhibit in tone or gesture an acrimonious spirit. Each should strive to present the opinions of the other with perfect fairness, to put upon them the most favorable construction, and to discuss them with great candor. No permanent advantage is ever gained by misrepresentation. But when the opposition extends beyond that of opinion, when there is an evident intention on the fl part of an opponent to inflict upon us injury, then an I CHARITY. 263 opportunity is offered for the exercise of magna- nimity. When a foe has fallen, attempt not his ruin, but extend towards him the hand of kindness. Having defended yourself, there pause. Follow not your vanquished opponent with invective. Give him credit for all the commendable qualities he possesses, and make all the allowances charity can suggest for the imperfections of his character and the incorrect- ness of his opinions. CHAPTER XV. The Human Family a Brotherhood. — Effect of little Kindnesses. Webster and Miss Mitford. — Influence of a Friend's Death. — Donations of Garden Seeds. — Gives away a Cow. — Kindness to Mr. Tappan. — Hungarian Bull. — Gores Mr. Taylor. — Kos- suth. — Mr. Webster's Present. — Charles Brown's Use of Holi- day Money.' — Items in Mr. Webster's Will. — A Rebuke and Fifty Dollars. — The Old Lady on Webster's Farm. — Another Fifty Dollars. — Webster loans a Client Money. — A touching Story of a Widow's Poverty and Mr. Webster's Benevolence. The human family constiTOtes one great brother- hood. Each should feel an interest in each. When- ever an opportunity exists of removing the difficulties in others' paths, of lightening their burdens, or of promoting their elevation, improvement, and happi- ness, the assistance should be cheerfully rendered. As human happiness and misery are made up of \ the a2:gregate of things in themselves comparatively trivial, enconrasrement is offered for all to labor in the field of benevolence. Every kind word, or gentle smile, or unexpensive gift exerts a beneficent influ- ' ence. It is like a gleam of sunshine breaking through the clouds in a dark and stormy day. Unexpected acts of favor towards our fellow-pilgrims I in the journey of life are ofttimes like the notes of 2Gi EFFECT OF KINDNESS. 2G5 some familiar tune sweetlj falling upon the ear of the weary traveller when resting upon the fragments of hoary ruins in some remote wilderness, where he supposed himself excluded, by many a tedious league, from all civilized beings. That favorite tune dispels the illusion, by the conviction which it awakens that sympathetic companionship is at hand. By the power of association, those time-honored ruins seem peopled )fith familiar forms. The feeling of loneli- ness is entirely gone. How many of life's pilgrims there are, who, though surrounded by a multitude, feel alone ! To them it seems as if there was " no flesh in man's obdurate heart ; it does not feel for man " — as if a great gulf, separated them from the mass of unfeeling humanity moving around them. Slight attentions, kind words, offices of friendship bridge this gulf, and make them feel that they are in sympathetic communication with the race. These labors of love, like rays of heavenly light, banish the darkness of their hearts ; the air seems filled with the melody of household ttuies, awakening in the otherwise desolate soul a sense of brotherhood with man. x\mong the incidents in the life of Mr. Webster which have been made public are a number illustra- tive of his thoughtful friendship and benevolence. When in England, some dozen years ago, he was in company with Mary Russell Mitford. In her 266 MR. WEBSTER AND MISS MITFORD. "Recollections of a Literary Life," this lady relates the following pleasing reminiscence of that occasion : — " During this visit a little circumstance occurred, so characteristic, so graceful, and so gracious, that I cannot resist the temptation of relating it. Walking in my cottage garden, we talked naturally of the roses and pinks that surrounded us, and of the dif- ferent indigenous flowers of our island and of the United States. I had myself had the satisfaction of sending to my friend Mr. Theodore Sedgwick a hamper containing roots of many English plants familiar to our poetry : the common ivy, (how could they want ivy who had had no time for ruins ?) the primrose, and the cowslip, immortalized by Shak- speare and by Milton ; and the sweet-scented violets, both white and purple, of our hedgerows and our lanes ; that known as tiie violet in America, (Mr. Bryant somewhere speaks of it as ' the yellow violet,') being, I suspect, the little wild pansy, (viola tricolor,) renowned as the love-in-idleness of Shakspeare's famous compliment to Queen Elizabeth. Of these we spoke ; and I expressed an interest in two flowers, known to me only by the vivid description of Miss Martineau — the scarlet lily of New York and of the Canadian woods, and the fringed gentian of Niagara. I observed that our illustrious guest made some remark to one of the ladies of the party ; but I little expected that, as soon after his return as seeds t VALUE OF TOKENS. 267 of these plants could be procured, I should receive a package of each, signed and directed by his own hand. How much pleasure these little kindnesses give ! And how many such have come to me from over the same wide ocean ! " Here an interest in certain flowers, expressed by a lady in casual conversation, was remembered for months, and was the means of inducing him to send, unasked, a package three thousand miles, signed and directed by his own hand, that she might enjoy the gratification of raising the flowers for herself. The plants produced by those seeds were no doubt highly prized by the gifted authoress ; and now that he who sent them has passed away, they will be held in higher estimation than ever. How strange it is that the death of a friend enhances the value of all the tokens of his kindness ! Gifts, of which we were unmindful while their donor was alive, become treasured mementoes of his love, when the hand that gave them is mouldering in the tomb. In such treasures not a few have been made rich by the demise of the great statesman. Trees of grafts cut from his orchards,' animals reared from stock on his farm, plants raised from seed received from his hands, to say notliing of tokens of other kinds, and especially letters in which he has poured out the fulness of his heart, though valued before, will now be more highly prized than ever. 203 DONATIONS OF SEEDS. Wlien Mr. Webster was in Congress, he was ac- customed to receive from diflerent quarters seeds of various kinds. These he neither sold nor monopo- a lized for liimself. Being greatly interested in agri- cultural pursuits, he was desirous of diffusing as far as possible all kinds of crops. For this reason he | gave away the seeds which he received, that the farmers might experiment with them upon their different kinds of soil. In that beautiful letter to John Taylor, containing such a mingling of gravity and cheerfulness, sober politics and minute farming directions, where there is such a singular blending of incongruous objects as " pennyroyal crops," "little wife," "my mother's garden," and "the graves of my family," he says, " I have sent you many garden seeds. Distribute than among your neighbors. Send them to the stores in the village," (not to sell ; no, no, but) " that every body may have part of them without cost.^^ ■* It would be interesting to know the liistory of some of those seeds. What were they ? which of them were successfully raised ? how did they com- pare with other crops of the same kind ? did any of them introduce new species ? in what respects was their introduction an improvement ? has a suc- cession of crops been raised from these seeds ? how have those crops turned out as to quahty and quantity 1 AN OLD AC(^UAINTANCE. 269 If we had the means of answering these ques- tions, it would not be at all sur])iising to learn that new and important additions had been made to certain departments of the agricultural interest by seeds received throuoh the thoughtful attention of the farmer statesman. But Mr. Webster not only gave away seeds. When occasion required it, he was willing to part with more important articles. He was especially considerate towards his unfortunate neighbors. Such was his accessibleness when at home, that the farmers in his vicinity freely approached him and related their embarrassments. Those who had been acquainted with him in his early years made capital of their former friendship in appealing to his benevolence. On one occasion, when confined by illness to his room at Marshfield, an old friend who resided at a distance of thirty miles called to see him. He vras at once admitted to the chamber. At first the conversation was upon " days of auld lang syne." They each drew upon their store of reminiscences, and lived old scenes over again. After some time had been spent in this delightful manner, the v^isitor entered upon his tale of woe, and related the various misfortunes which he had experienced. He seems to have been in reduced circumstances, for in the conversation he incidentally expressed his earnest 270 GIVES AWAY A COW. desire to obtain a o-ood cow. The invalid listened attentively to every word he uttered, but made no reply. When the friend had finished the story of his sorrows, and arose to leave, Mr. Webster called Mr. Porter Wright, the superintendent of his farm, into his presence, and gave him instructions to show his friend the cattle which were on the farm, and then present him with any cow which he might be pleased to select from the number. The herd was examined, and the visitor made choice of a fine Alderney, valued at fifty dollars, which was cheer- fully given him by his invalid friend. He went away rejoicing. " And this is only one of many similar instances which might and will be recorded of the astonishing liberahty of Mr. Webster." We have already referred to the fact that when his early teacher, Mr. Tappan, was reduced to poverty, in his old age, he sent him at one time fifty, and at another time twenty dollars for his relief The delicacy, with which it was done — the words of aftectionate sympathy which accompanied these substantial tokens of friendship — must have rendered the donation doubly acceptable. On the Elms Farm, at FrankUn, Mr. Webster had a bull of the Hungarian breed. It was young, laro-e, and beautiful, weighing about two thousand pounds, with a neck more than six fefit in circum- ference, and of a delicate light slate color. It was an HUNGARIAN BULL. 271 object of special interest to those who visited the place. Oil one occasion, Mr. John Taylor was in the field with it, when, without provocation, the animal suddenly became enraged, rushed upon him, gored him with his horns, tossed him high in the air, and, after he had fallen, trampled him under his hoofs, injuring him severely. He would probably have been wounded much more dangerously if he had not seized and held on to tlie ring which orna- mented the bull's nose. As it was, he had a .very narrow escape from death. Mr. Webster heard in Boston that the superin- tendent of his farm was injured, but he knev>^ not the particulars. It being the season of the year when he was accustomed to make his annual visit there, he was soon on his way to Franklin. When he reached Concord, where he heard the particulars of the affair, and learned that his life was considered in danger, he v/as deeply afflicted, and manifested great anxiety to pursue his journey. A§ soon as he arrived at home, he hastened to the house of Mr. Taylor, whom he found prostrate upon his bed, enduring the severe sufferings of a dislocated shoulder, a dreadfully bruised breast, and a deep wound in his thigh, some seven inches long. Mr. Webster was filled with solicitude for his friend. He inquired the opinion of the physician, and when 272 SALMON AND GRAPES. lie learned tliat lie liad pronounced Inm out of danger, he was greatly relieved. Mr. Taylor, doubtless, in order that he might allay the anxiety of Mr. Webster, gave quite an amusino; narrative of his rencounter with the enraged animal, and of other feats which it had performed. " Do you think the creature is dangerous ? " asked Mr. W., "and ought to be chained ? " " Why," replied Taylor, " he is no more fit to go abroad than your friend Governor Kossuth him- self." " Rather strong language this," humorously re- plied Mr. W. ; " but when a man has been gored al- most to death by an Hungarian bull, it is not strange that he should be severe upon the Hungarian gov- ernor." We have related this painful incident in order to say that when Mr. W. first heard of it in Boston, not, however, imagining the extent of its severity, he immediately determined to take Mr. Taylor a present of something which he supposed would be appropriate to one in his condition. He looked around, and made the necessary purchase. When he arrived at Elms Farm, he gladdened the heart of the wounded man by the donation of a basket of grapes and afresh salmon, brought purposely for him from Boston. The present was worthy of a noble- FXONOMICAL SERVANT. 273 man, and they were noblemen of nature's mould who gave and received it. O, how greatly such acts of friendly attention smooth the sharp asperities of life ! How they pour the oil of gladness into the wounded spirit ! A bou- quet of flowers, a little fruit, or pleasant confection, sent into the room of the invalid, are odorous with the fragrance of affection ; they are little tokens of remembrance ; they show tlie sufferer that he is not forgotten by the absent, but is thought of with interest, and his happiness desired. Mr. Webster seems to have been particularly kind to those in his employ. He had in Washington a colored man of the name of Charles Brown, who was his servant for nearly thirty years. He was a wortiiy, trusty person. Mr. Webster appreciated his qualities, and was accustomed to give him money to spend on holidays and other times, in addition, as we suppose, to his support. A few years ago he ascer- tained that this servant had bought a piece of land, and had erected a small, yet comfortable house. " Where did you gQt money to purchase so fine a house 1 " asked he. " I am glad to say, sir," replied Brown, " that it all came out of your pocket. It is the money which you have given me on holidays and at other times." It would seem from this that the spending-money 18 i 274 MR. Webster's will. given to this servant must have been somewhat Hberal. A similar s])irit was developed by Mr. Webster in the following " items " in his last will and testa- ment : — " Item. My servant William .Tohnson is a free man. I bought his freedom not long ago for six hundred dollars. No demand is to be made upon ?, t him for any portion of this sum, but so long as is '' agreeable, I hope he will remain with the family. " Item. Monicha McCarty, Sarah Smith, and j Ann Bean, colored persons, now, also, and for a long time in my service, are all free. They are very well deserving, and whoever comes after me must be kind to them." Public men, especially if they have the reputation of wealth and liberality, are frequently called upon by private individuals for donations to various ob- jects. In these calls the proprieties of time and circumstance are not always regarded. Sometimes, instead of donations, reproofs are received. On one occasion, Mr. Webster gave both. The follow- ing are the facts : — A lady called upon him in Washington, and relat- ed u long and mournful story about her afflictions, stating that she was very poor ; that she resided in a western city ; that she had not sufficient money to A LADY SOLICITOR. 27-5 reach her home, and then asked him to assist her. He hstened with some degree of impatience to her tale, expressed his surprise that she, a total stranger, should feel at liberty to call on him for the purpose of soliciting charity, simply because he was con- nected with the government ; and, after administer- ing a plain reprimand for her improper conduct, he closed the interview by presenting her ivith fifty dollars. It is sometimes a difficult task to decide upon the path of duty in such cases. It is so easy to be de- ceived by impostors, and such deceptions occur so frequently, that we know not, when a stranger asks for assistance, whether it may not be one of this class. A safe course would be to require corroborating evidence of the facts in the case, in addition to the statements of the sohcitor. And even then decep- tion would not be impossible ; for such corroborat- ing evidence might be abundantly furnished, and the whole be based upon falsehood. To another woman he gave a similar amount, but under very different circumstances. The incident is highly interesting. In the early part of his professional career, when he was practising law in Portsmouth, one of his clients, whom he had conducted successfully through a some- what difficult suit, was unable to pay him his fees. He therefore insisted upon giving him the deed of a } 27G WEBSTER AND THE OLD LADY. certain lot of land in a neighboring county. The matter was adjusted by the acceptance of this deed. Where the land was, or what was its quality, Mr. Webster knew not. After many years had passed i away, he had occasion to visit this county. It oc- ,. curred to him that perhaps it would be well to look ; up the land, and ascertain its condition. He went f to work f )r that purpose. He made his inquiries, and, after following the directions which were given him, he discovered the property. Upon it was an old house, built among the rocks, which appeared to be inhabited. He knocked at the door, and entered. He found it was occupied by an old woman, who, hermit-like, lived there all alone. He entered into familiar conversation with her, and asked who owned the place. She told him that it belonged to a law- yer, by the name of Webster ; and she was expect- ing every day that he would come and turn her out of doors. She little knew the character of that Webster. After some further inquiries, he surprised the old lady by the announcement that he was law- yer Webster, the Dwner of the place, but that she need not fear thai he had come to warn her out. That was far from his intention. After allaying her apprehensions, he sat down at her table, partook of such refreshments as the humble hut afforded, and then departed, leaving the old lady a donation of ffty dollars. WEBSTER AND HIS POOR CLIENT. 277 Ever since then, that rocky spot has been desig- nated " Webster's Farm." This, however, was not the limit of his donations. When occasion required, he gave more largely. He was a large-hearfed man. Says Mr. Lanman, — " The following well-authenticated fact was re- lated to the writer by an eye witness, and is only a specimen of many that might be mentioned, tending to illustrate the character of Mr. Webster's heart. Somewhere about the year 1826, a certain gentleman residing in Boston was thrown into almost inextricable difficulties by the failure of a house for which he had become responsible to a large amount. He needed legal advice, and being disheartened, he desired the author of this anecdote to go with him and relate his condition to Mr. Webster. The lawyer heard the story entirely througli, advised his client what to do,, and to do it immediately, and requested him to call again in a few days. After the gentlemen had left Mr. Webster's office, he came hurriedly to the door, called upon the gentlemen to stop a moment, and having approached them with his pocket book in hand, he thus addressed his client : ' It seems to me, my good sir, if T understood your case rightly, you are entirely naked ; is it so ? ' The client replied that he was indeed penniless, and then of course expected a demand for a retain- ing fee. Instead of that demand, however, Mr. 278 MR. WEBSTER AND HIS POOR CLIENT. Webster kindly remarked, as he handed the chent i bill for Jive hundred dollars^ — *' ' Well, there, take that ; it is all I have by me now. I wish it was more ; and if you are ever able, m you must pay it back again.' " The client was overcome, and it may be well imagined that he has ever since been a ' Webster man.' Surely a man who can command the admira- tion of the world by the efforts of his gigantic intellect, and also possesses the above self-sacrificing habit of making friends, must indeed be a great and a good man." To all intents this was a donation. He knew not that the man would ever be in a condition to refund the money ; he let him have it subject to that con- tingency. It was to be a loan if the man ever had the ability to return it ; if otherwise, it was a gift. This chapter cannot be more appropriately closed than with the following deeply-affecting narrative, which is equally illustrative of Mr. Webster's benev- olence and piety. Rather than mar the account by presenting it in our own language, we give it as it appeared in the National Intelhgencer. " In answer to some fanatical inputations on Mr. Webster's religious principles, because of his support of the compromise measures, a widow lady, who resided in the vicinity of Mr. W.'s early home, said, — ** » Mr. Webster an infidel ! I cannot believe that. MR. WEBSTER AND THE WIDOW. 279 I have known liim long, and, if it would not savor too much of egotism, I could relate some incidents that would, I think, convince jou that, whatever his political views may have been, he certainly was not an infidel.' " She was requested to do so, and accordingly wrote the following : — *' ' Mr. Webster and my husband became acquaint- ed in early life, and the friendship of youth extended to riper years. They were truly congenial spirits, and sought each other's society as much as possible. But the cares of business at length separated them, and for many years they seldom met. My husband settled down in this place, and Mr. Webster went forth to battle for the Tight in the councils of the nation. " ' For some time we were greatly prospered. A lucrative business brought us wealth almost beyond our hopes. Two children came like a sunbeam to light up our happy home with their joyous smiles, and to cheer our spirits with their innocent prattle. Those were happy days, and I love to recall them. But alas ! the'- were soon covered with clouds of darkness, that' ^ven the eye of faith could hardly penetrate. " ' Some of the firms in which my husband's funds were placed became involved, and our little all was 280 MR. WEBSTER AND THE WIDOW. swept from our grasp. When he found that every effort to recover it but plunged him deeper into difficulty, he became disheartened. Soon his health failed, and he was compelled to give up his business entirely. He then sold the shop, and what else we could spare, and with the avails paid every debt except one. This was due to a friend who chose to wait for his money rather than take from us the cottage where we hved, the only property we could then call our own. " ' But hardly was the arrangement made w!)en the gentleman died, leaving the note in the hands of one who knew not how to show mercy. He demanded immediate payment, and we were about to sell our house when our oldest child was taken down with a fever, and soon left us, as we hope, for a better world. The same disease prostrated my husband; and when the physician told me he must die, I felt that my cup of sorrow was full. But no ; I was mistaken. " ' There was yet another drop to be mingled in that cup of bitterness. While my husband yet lin- gered between life and death, my da/i* hter, the only remaining child, was taken sick alsr*^ and after five days' suffering, she too left us, to rjjoin her brother in the " spirit land." " ' Do you ask how I bore this second bereave- MR. WEBSTER AND THE WIDOW. 281 merit ? I believe I had not leisure to think of '4, All my time, all my attention, were given to my husband, who was slowly but surely going down to the grave. I had even forgotten the hard-hearted creditor. But he did not forget. Inexorable as death itself, he came at the time appointed, and demanded the money. 1 thiidi he must have been intoxicated, for 1 am sure no man in his sober senses could have been so cruel. I told him my husband was dying ; but he replied, " Sorry, sorry to hear it. He won't earn any more money, and, as you can't pay up, I'll just take the house. You can live somewhere else, as you have no one to look after." I interrupted his cruel remarks, and, thinking to move his feelings, I led him to the room where lay the cold form of my child. " ' Vain hope ! I might as well have tried to move an iceberg. After much entreaty, I obtained permission to remain in the house while my loved one lived, on condition that I gave up the furniture. This I promised, that I might no more be troubled with his loathsome presence. " ' The man left me, and I sank into a chair, uttcrlj* overcome at the prospect of the desolation before me. At that moment I heard a rap at the door. I coul'v not rise to obey the summons. I felt that my hearl was breaking. But the door 1' 282 PRAYER AND BENEVOLENCE. sjpwly opened, and ]Mr Webster stood before me. He had come home on a visit, and, witliout know- ing any thing of our sorrows, he rode over to see and embrace his early friend. What was his sur- prise to. find him thus ! And when the story of our troubles had been told, when he had assured himself that his long-cherished friend had but a few more hours to live, he sat down and wept. " ' Then he asked to see the corpse of his little pet, who, when he last visited us, sat upon his knee and played with his watch. As he rose to leave the bed, my husband said in a whisper, " Fetch her to me, that I too may look upon her sweet face once more." " ' We placed tiie still beautiful form beside the bed, and standing near it, gave ourselves up to un- controllable o-rief When able to command his voice, Mr. W. said, "Let us pray." And kneeling there, beside the dying and the dead, he prayed as none but a Christian can pray. Sure I am that a prayer so earnest, so full of faith and hope in the Redeemer, was never poured forth from the lips of an infidel. " ' Gladly would he have stopped with us through the night ; but business forbade his stay. He left us, and as he grasped for the last time the hand of | his dying friend, those pale feature? 'ere lighted up with a smile of hope, such as thc;^ had not worn for PRAYER AND BENEVOLENCE. 283 many a day. The troubled spirit was at rest, for tlje assurance had been given that the widow should be provided for in her affliction. « ' My husband died the next day. I saw no more of the hard-hearted creditor, and the house remained unsold. I still occupy it, and the room wbere Mr. Webster kneeled in prayer is to me a sacrec' place. > » CHAPTER XVI. ^ Mr. Webster never out of Order. — Sin^s with an old Lady. — Religious Allusions. — The Bible is "the Book." — Piety of his Brother Ezekiel. — An Evening Scene and Scripture Quo- tation. — Mr. Webster's Remarks on Job. — He prefers John. — Constant in Attendance on Public Worship. — His Opinion of Sermonizing. — His Opinion of Prayer. — Mr. Kirk's Ser- mon. •— Mr. Webster's Remarks upon it. — Believer in the Atone- ment. — Requests Prayer on board a Steamboat. — Influence of Prayer. — Ariihmetic of Heaven. — His Religious Views. — Pleased with Dr. Watts's Hymns. — Mr. Alden's Eulogy. — Recognition of Divine Providence. — Evidences of Christian- ity. — Writes the Inscription for his own Monument. — Its Importance. A QUESTION in vvliich a large portion of the com- munity cherish a deep interest is titat which has re- spect to the religious opinions and character of our most eminent statesmen. That there are any among them addicted to profanity, drunkenness, and other immoralities, is an occasion of grief and humilia- tion. An account of the disgraceful, belligerent scenes which have occasionally transpired in Con- '\ gress has sent a wave of sadness throughout the land. Such occurrences have been deplored both publicly and privately. They have furnished topics for penitential confession and earnest prayer in the services of the sanctuary, and '.'^ (le private devo- 284 •i Q.UALIFICATIONS FOR OFFICE. 285 tions of the closet. It will be a fortunate iay for our country when immorality of character, or a positive disregard for Christianity, shall be sufficient to prevent the election of any individual, however eminent he may be in other respects, to any office of responsibility. In canvassing the quaUfications of candidates, the time has come when a higher estimate should be placed upon moral requisites. We need men of good hearts, as well as strong minds. Integrity of character should be the balluidt of the ship of state ; and this should be developed not only in the laws which are passed, but in those who enact and execute them. With reference to Mr. Webster, it is stated that during his long congressional career, though he was frequently placed in circumstances of the most ex- citing character, mid was ofttimes the subject of personal and irritating allusion, he never departed from the proprieties of debate. He ivas never called to order. If this rigid adherence to the rules of parliamentary decorum had been imitated by others, the various scenes of congressional rowdyism which have dishonored the halls of our national legislation would have been avoided. But Mr. Webster was governed by something higher than a mere regard to decorum. He knew that the character of his country was, in the opinion of foreign natior'- implicated in these scenes of 286 MR. WEBSTER AND AN OLD WOMAN. disorder, and that tliey were at variance with that spirit of good will towards others which is so prom- inent and beautiful an element of Christianity. Patriotism and religion combined to guide his course. His parents, as we have seen, were Christians of the Puritan stock. His " excellent mother " in- stilled into his mind, from his earliest childhood, sentiments of piety. He was, when quite young, taught the Catechism and the hymns of Dr. Watts. The history and precepts of the Scriptures were also impressed upon his mind. He was taught to regard the Sabbath and to reverence the institution of Christianity. These early influences were not in vain. He became hopefully pious, and, when a young man, united with the Orthodox Congrega- tional Church. He had, even at j^hat time, attained to such a reputation, that the following incident, comparatively trifling in itself, which occurred then, is remembered to the present day. On the occasion of his making a public profession of religion, the only occupant of the same pew with him was a " very poor, and a very old, woman." The service was closed with singing. After Mr. Webster had. found the hymn, he offered a part of the book to the poor woman, and they both sang together from the same page — a beautiful symbol of the union exist! i)g between the piety of youth and that of age. HIS ALLUSIONS TO RELIGION. 287 Even though their voices might have been discord- ant, they were one in spirit. This pleasant incident is still a topic of fireside conversation among the members of the parish. When he delivered his Fourth of July Oration at Hanover, during his collegiate course, he took occa- sion to express the obligations of the people to cher- ish sentiments of thanksgiving towards the Ruler of nations for the blessings they enjoyed. His lan- guage was as follows : "If piety be the rational exercise of the human soul, if rehgion be not a chimera, and if the vestiges of heavenly assistance are clearly traced in those events which mark the annals of our nation, it becofnes us on this day, in consideration of the great things which have been done for us, to render the tribute of unfeigned thanks to that God who superintends the universe, and holds aloft the scale that weighs, the destinies of nations." These sentiments are important. They are wor- thy of being incorporated in every oration on our national anniversary. We should never forget our indebtedness to the Ruler of nations for the political freedom with which he has blessed us. The Fourth of July ought to be a day of national thanksgiving. With our various demonstrations of joy there should be mingled feelings of devout gratitude. Of this 288 HIS LOVE FOR THE BIBLE. the youthful orator was convinced, and has earnestly expressed it in the quotation we have given. Being a firm behever in the divine origin of the Scriptures, he has on various occasions expressed himself warmly upon the importance of making them a subject of study. A correspondent of the Commercial Advertiser says, — " Some years ago we had the pleasure of spend- ing several days in company with Mr. Webster at the residence of a mutual friend, Harvey Ely, Esq., at Rochester. During that intercourse, we had more than one opportunity of conversing on religious sub- jects — sometimes on doctrinal points, but more gen- erally on the importance of the Holy Scriptures, as containing the plan of man's salvation, through the atonement of Christ. So far as our knowledge of the subject extends, Mr Webster was as orthodox as any we ever conversed with. " On one occasion, when seated in the drawing room ^vith 3Ir. and Mrs. Ely, Mr. Webster laid his hand on a copy of the Scriptures, saying, with great emphasis, ' This is the book ! ' This led to a con- versation on the importance of the Scriptures, and the too frequent neglect of the study of the Bible by gentlemen of the legal profession, their pursuits in life leading them to the almost exclusive study of works ha\ing reference to their profession. Mr. PIETY OF HIS BROTHER. 289 Webster said, ' I have read through the entire Bible many times. I now make a practice to go through it once a year. It is the book of all otiiers for law- yers as well as for divines ; and I pity the man that cannot find in it a rich supply of thought, and of rules for his conduct ; it fits man for life — it pre- pares him for death.' " The conversation then turned upon sudden deaths ; and Mr. Webster adverted to the then re- cent death of his brother, who expired suddenly at Concord, N. IT. ' My brother,' he continued, ' knew the importance of Bible truths. The Bible led him to prayer, and prayer was his communion with God. On the day on which he died, he was engaged in an important cause in the court then in session. But this cause, important as it was, did not keep him from his duty to his God ; he found time for'prayer, for on the desk which he had just left w^as found a paper writ- ten by him on that day, which for fervent piety, a devoted ness to his heavenly Master, and for expres- sions of humility, I think was never excelled.' " Mr. Webster then mentioned the satisfaction he had derived from the preaching of certain clergymen, observing that ' men were so constituted, that we could not all expect the same spiritual benefit under the ministry of the same clergymen.' He regretted that there was not more harmony of feeling among professors generally, who believed in the great truths 19 •290 INTERESTING SCENE. of our common Christianity. Difference of opin- ion, he admitted, was proper ; but yet, with that difference, the main objects should be love to God — love to our fellow-creatures. In all Mr. Webster's conversations, he maintained true catholicity of feeling." The editor of the Boston Atlas, as quoted by Genera] Lyman, in his Memorials, says, — " It was our fortune to pass several days at liis home in Marshfield, some six or seven years ago ; and well we remember one beautiful night, when the heavens seemed to be studded with countless myri- ads of stars, that about nine o'clock in the evening, we walked out, and he stood beneath the beautiful weeping elm which raises its majestic form within a few paces of his dwelling, and, looking up through the leafy branches, he appeared for several minutes to be wrapped in deep thought, and, at length, as if the scene, so soft and so beautiful, had suggested the lines, he quoted certain verses of the eighth Psalm, beginning with the words, ' When I con- sider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained, what is man, that thou art mindful of him ? and the son of man, that thou visitest him 1 For thou liast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honor,' «fec. The deep, low ^ tone in which he repeated these inspired words, HIS REMARKS ON JOB. 291 and the deep, rapt attention with which he gazed up through the branches of the elm, struck us with a feeUng of greater awe and solemnity than we ever felt, when, a year or two later, we visited some of the most magnificent cathedrals of tlie old world, venerable with the ivy of centuries, and mellowed with the glories of a daily church service for a thou- sand years. " We remained out beneath the tree for an hour, and all the time he conversed about the Scriptures, which no man has studied with greater attention, and of which no man whom we ever saw knew so much, or appeared to understand and appreciate so well. He talked of the books of the Old Testament espe- cially, and dwelt with unaffected pleasure upon Isaiah, the Psalms, and especially the Book of Job. The Book of Job, he said, taken as a mere work of literary genius, was one of the most wonderful pro- ductions of any age, or in any language. As an epic poem, he deemed it far superior to either the Iliad or Odyssey. The two last, he said, received much of their attraction from the mere narration of warlike deeds, and from the perilous escape of the chief personages from death and slaughter ; but the Book of Job was a purely intellectual narra- tive. Its power was shown in the dialogue of characters introduced. The story was simple in its construction, and there was little in it to excite the 292 HE EXPLAINS THE SCRIPTURES. imagination or arouse the sympathy. It was purely an intellectual production, and depended upon the power of the dialogue, and not upon the interest of the story, to produce its effects. This was consid- ering it merely as an intellectual work. He read it through very often, and always with renewed delight. In . his judgment, it was the greatest epic ever written. " We well remember his quotation of some of the verses in the thirty-eighth chapter : ' Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said, AVho is this tiiat darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge ? Gird up now thy loins like a man ; for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me, Where wast thou, when I laid the foundations of the earth ? Declare, if thou hast understanding,' &c. Mr. Webster was a fine reader, and his recitation of particular passages, to which he felt warm, were never surpassed, and were capable of giving the most exquisite delight to those who could appreciate them." With regard to this attachment to the Bible, the author of Mr. Webster's Private Life says , — " Indeed, he loved and he read that priceless vol- ume as it ought to be loved and read ; and he once told the w^riter that he could not remember the time when he was unable to read a chapter therein. He read it aloud to his family on every Sunday morning, I HIS REVERENCE FOR THE SCRIPTURES. 293 and often delivered extempore sermons of great power and eloquence. He never made a journey without carrying a copy with him, and the writer would testify that he never listened to the story of the Savior, or heard one of the prophecies of Isaiah, when it sounded so superbly eloquent as when com- ing from his lips. Those admitted to the i^iti- macy of his conversation alone can tell of the eloquent fervor with which he habitually spoke of the inspired writings ; how much light he could throw on a difficult text ; how much beauty lend to ex])ressions that would escape all but the eye of genius ; what new vigor he could give to the most earnest thouoht: and what elevation even to sublimity. " It would be impossible, as C. W. March has said, for any one to listen half an hour to one of his dissertations on the Scri])tures, and not believe in their inspiration or his. And yet, while his private conversations and public prpductions attest how deeply he was imbued with the spirit of the Scriptures, neithe-r the one nor the other ever con- tained the slightest irreverent allusion to any passage in them, any thing in the way of illustration, anal- ogy, or quotation, which would seem to question their sanctity. He was scrupulously delicate in this ft regard, and therein differed widely from most of his contemporaries in public life ; as he read and 294 HTS PREFERENCE FOR JOHN. admired the Bible for its eloquence, so did he vener- ate it for its sacrediiess." At a dinner table at the Revere House, Boston, one of the party made a remark upon the poetry of the Scriptures. "Ah, my friend," immediately re- plied jMr. Webster, " the poetry of Isaiah, and Job, an4 Habakkuk is beautiful indeed ; but when you reach your sixty-ninth year, you will give more for the fourteenth or the seventeenth chapter of John's Gos- ])el, or for one of the Epistles, than for all the poetry of the Bible." It may be asked. If Mr. Webster was so deeply impressed with the value of the sacred Scriptures, why did he never give expression to his views at the anniversary of some of the Bible Societies 1 He stated in the above interview, that he had declined speaking at Bible Societies, " from fear that the mo- tives prompting to such a step would be regarded as sinister." * He expressed deep regret that he had never recorded, his opinion of the word of God in some public manner, and intimated a willingness to comply, if invited to speak at the anniversary of the American Bible Society. But the arrangement was never made, owing, probably, to the speedy decease of the clergyman to whom the matter was suggested. It is reasonable to suppose that one vvho was so * Rev. Dr. Choules's Sermon. CONSTANTLY ATTENDS CHURCH. 295 sincerely a lover of the Bible would not be uninter- ested in the public services of the sanctuary. The folio win o- fact will illustrate Mr. Webster's views and practice upon this point : — He was accustomed, at one period of his life, to spend his months of summer recreation in Dorches- ter, Massachusetts. The late Rev. Dr. Codman was at that time pastor of the Orthodox Congregational Church in that town. At the time he became a res- ident of the place, Mr. Webster called upon Dr. Codman, " with whom he held similar religious opinions," and said to him, — " Sir, I. am come to be one of your parishioners." Not one of your fashionable ones ; but you will find me in my seat both in the morning and in the after- noon." He is said to have been true to his word. His example in this respect furnishes an impressive re- buke to those " fashionable " worshippers whose con- science and heart are satisfied with a single attend- ance upon the public services of the Sabbath. May we not see in it, also, the influence of home educa- tion 1 Being taught, when a boy, to be in his seat on both parts of the day, he continued the practice in subsequent years. He did not go there for amusement, nor to while away an hour that would have otherwise hung heavily on his hands. Indeed, any thing in the form of a sermon which furnished 296 CRITICIZES A SEil3I0N. mere intellectual entertain iiieiit seemed to liim out of place. To Rev. Mr. Alden, of Marslifield, the pastor whose ministrations he attended when at home, lie said with emphasis, " When I attend the preach- ing- of the gospel, I wish it to be made a personal matter, A PERSONAL matter, a PERSOINAL MATTER." On another occasion he expressed his views of preaching to a gentleman who afterwards gave them to the public in the Congregational Journal, in the following article : — • " A few evenings since," says this writer, " sitting by his own fireside, after a day of severe labor in the Supreme Court, Mr. Webster introduced the last Sabbath's sermon, and discoursed in animated and glowing eloquence for an liour, on the great truths of the gospel. I cannot but regard the opinions of such a man in some sense as public property. This is my apology for attempting to recall some of those remarks which were uttered in the privacy of the domestic circle. " Said Mr. Webster, ' Last Sabbath I listened to an able and learned discourse upon the evidences of Christianity. The arguments were drawn from prophecy, history, with internal evidence. They were stated with logical accuracy and force ; but, as it seems to me, the clerjrvman failed to draw from CRITICIZES A SERMON. 297 them the right coiichisioii. He came so near the truth that I was astonished he missed it. In sum- ming up his arguments, he said the only alternative presented by these evidences is this: Either Chris- tianity is true, or it is a delusion produced by an ex- cited imagination. Such is not the alternative,' said the critic ; ' but it is this : the gospel is either true history, or it is a consummate fraud ; it is either a reality or an imposition. Christ was what he pro- fessed to be, or he was an impostor. There is no other alternative. His spotless life in his earnest enforcement of the truth, his suffering in its defence, forbids us to suppose that he was suffering an illusion of the heated brain. " ' Every act of his pure and holy life shows that he was the author of truth, the advocate of truth, the earnest defender of truth, and the uncomplaining suf- ferer for truth. Now, considering the purity of his doctrines, the simplicity of his life, and the sublimity of his death, is it possible that he would have died for an illusion ? In all his preaching the Savior made no popular appeals. His discourses were all directed to the individual. Christ and his apostles sought to impress upon every man the conviction that he must stand or fall alone — he must live for himself, juid die for himself, and give up his account to the omniscient God, as though he were the only de- pendent creature in the universe. The gospel 298 OPINION OF PREACHING. leaves the individual sinner alone with himself and his God. To his own Master lie stands or falls. He has nothing to hope from the aid and sympathy of associates. The deluded advocates of new doc- trine do not so preach. Christ and his apostles, had they been deceivers, would not have so preaclied. "'If clergymen in our days would return to the simplicity of the gospel, and preach more to indi- viduals and less to the crowd, there would not be so much complaint of the decline of true religion. Many of the ministers of the present day take their text from St. Paul, and preach from the newspapers. When they do so, I prefer to enjoy my own thoughts rather than to hsten. I want my pastor to come to me in the spirit of the gospel, saying, "You are mortal ! your probation is brief; your work must be done speedily. You are immortal, too. You are hastening to the bar of God ; the Judge standeth before the door." When I am thus admonished, I have no disposition to muse or to sleep. These topics,' said Mr. Webster, ' have often occupied my thousrhts : and if I had time I would write on them myself.' • " The above remarks are but a meagre and im- perfect abstract, from memory, of one of the most eloquent sermons to which I ever listened." These are the true, common-sense views to be taken of the subject. It will be a most desirable i A CHANGE NEEDED. 299 change in public opinion when these views become popular. There are many to whom no preaching is so interesting as that which indulges in all kinds of flowery and imaginative description of scenes, cir- cumstances, and characters, but which leaves the conscience unaddressed. To hold the mirror of divine truth before them, and show them the moral deformities of their character, is to perform a most unwelcome service. But instead of censuring them- selves, and striving for amendment, they make the preacher the subject of their complaints, or else find fault with the truth he utters. Probation, mortality, and eternity are themes too sombre for the contem- plation of such. They take no pleasure in them. How widely different was it with Mr. Webster ! " I want my pastor to come to me in the spirit of the gospel, saying, 'You are mortal! your probation is brief; your work must be done speedily. You are immortal^ too. You are hastening to the bar of God ; the Judge standeth at the door.' " A great mind wants great themes for its contemplation. No wonder that he added, " These topics have often occupied my thoughts." ; Reader, permit them to occupy your thouglits. You can dwell upon nothing invested with more profound interest. In comparison with these, all other subjects dwindle into insignificance. Your present life is brief. Yet for all your conduct here 300 WEBSTER S OPINION OF PRAYER. you are accountable at the tribunal of your Maker. It is appointed unto men once to die, and after that the judgment. Tlien will follow your immortality, the character of which will dej^end upon the course of life which you have followed here. IIow ex- plicit is the language of revelation! — "Be not de- ceived; God is not mocked. Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. He that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption. He that soweth to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life everlasting." Let the young especially remember that this life is their seedtime ; that the harvest will be reaped in another world, and the nature of that harvest will depend upon the character of the seed sown here. Being a believer in the Bible, Mr. Webster was convinced of the efficacy of prayer. The last time he attended church, this was the subject of discourse. It was delivered by that warm-hearted, earnest preacher, and indefatigable laborer in the vineyard of Christ, Rev. E. N. Kirk, of Boston. Hearing that this gentleman was to preach in Duxbury, a few miles from Marshfield, Mr. W., with some of his guests, rode over to hear him. Mr. Charles Lanman, who was one of the number, has given the following account of the circumstance, with some additional remarks, of which we gladly avail ourselves, coming as they do from one who was i i HEARS A SERMON ON PRAYER. 301 favored with the enjoyment of a close personal intimacy with the great statesman. " The last time that he ever attended chiirch, it was my rare fortune to be his companion. He had been informed that the Rev. E. N. Kirk, of Boston, was expected to preach in Duxbury, some three, miles from Marshfield; and packing off his guests and a part of his household in a couple of carriages, he reserved a gig for himself, and in this did we attend. The sermon was on the efficacy of prayer, and was distinguished not only for its eloquence, but for its powerful arguments. It dealt in nothing but pure Bible doctrines, as understood by the orthodox church. Mr. Webster listened with marked atten- tion to the whole discourse, and, after the services were closed, went up and congratulated the preacher. On our return home, his conversation turned upon the sermon, and he said it was a remarkable, a great effi)rt. He said tlie arguments adduced were unanswerable, and that if a man would only live ac- cording to the lessons of such preaching, he would be a happy man both in this world and the world to come. He said, moreover, ' There is not a single sentiment in that discourse with which I do not fully concur.' And this remark, when appended, as it ought to be, to the sermon when hereafter published, will serve to convince the world that liis views of religion were most substantial and satisfactory. 30^ RELIGIOUS OPINIONS. During the wliole of our ride home, he conversed upon matters contained in or suggested by the discourse ; and I deeply regret that I did not take more ample notes of what he said on the occasion. Tlie distinct impression left upon my mind, however, •was, that if he were not a genuine Christian, the promises of the Bible were all a fable; and God knows that 1 would rather die than, for a moment, even imagine such a state *of things. " He was a believer in the great atonement ; and though, living as he did in a sphere of peculiar temp- tations, he may have committed errors, lie needed no promptings to lead him to a speedy repentance. He was actuated by a spirit of charity which knew no bounds. He treasured no animosities to his fellow- men, and when once wronged by those in whom he had confided with all the guilelessness of a child, he did not retaliate, but simply moved in another sphere beyond their reach. He was a student of the Bible, and read it habitually in his family whenever the annoyances of his official position did not prevent ; and never sat down, wlien with his family alone, to enjoy the bounties of his table, without first implor- ing a blessing. No man ever thought or talked with more reverence of the power and holiness of God. He came of a race of good men ; was baptized into, and became a member, in his college days, of the Congregational church, but died in the communion SCENE IN A STATE ROOM. 303 of the Protestant Episcopal Church, of which he was a devout member ; and one of the most im- pressive scenes that I ever witnessed, going to prove the matchless beauty of our religion, was to see him, in full view of the Capitol, the principal theatre of his exploits, upon his knees before the altar, partak- ing of the sacrament of the Lord's supper. That spectacle, and the grandeur of his death, are to me more eloquent than a thousand sermons from human hps." The sermon alluded to, preached by Blr. Kirk, will ever be interesting, not only on account of its intrinsic merits, but as being the last which Mr. Webster ever heard, and as drawing from him the sentiments he then uttered. He was a believer in the efficacy and the obliga- tion of prayer. He has given the whole weight of his influence to sanction a practice which not a few affect to despise. " Many years ago," says Rev. Dr. Choules, " 1834, in passing through the Sound, we occupied the captain's state room. At night Mr. Webster took up my Bible and read the twenty-third Psalm, and then made some fine remarks upon the character of David, observing that the varied experience of David as a shepherd boy, a Ring, victorious and vanquished, had made him acquainted with all the diversified feelinors of human nature, and had 304 REASONABLENESS OF PRAYER. thus qualified him to be tlie chorister of the church in all future ages. After this, he asked me to com- mend ourselves to God, remarking that none needed prayer more than ' the wayfaring man.' " " How absurd," says one, " to imagine that our poor requests receive any attention from the Sov- ereign of the universe, or secure any benefit to our- selves !" " How superstitious," says another, " to with- draw to some place of retirement, and there pretend to talk to some unseen God ! " The spirit of such harmonizes with certain ones of old, who impiously said, " It is vain to serve God," and " What is the Ahiiighty, that we should serve him ? and what profit should we have if we pray unto him 1 " Not so thought Mr. Webster. If his opinion on other subjects be valuable, it is certainly not worth- less on this. He was a believer in the importance of prayer, and performed the duty with more or less frequency. And why should not you, my young reader ? The Bible enjoins the duty with great frequency. It promises that it shall not be performed in vain. Various interesting instances are given when prayer was answered. How reasonable is it that feeble creatures like ourselves should, in this way, manifest our dependence upon that great and good Being who called us into existence, and who supplies our daily wants Even if it were not true that prayer is ■i REASONABLENESS OF PRAYER. 305 answered, its reflex influence upon the worshipper's mind and heart would justify its performance. To draw voluntarily near to God ; to hold, in the exercise of faith, converse with him ; to acknowledge our weaknesses ; to confess our sins ; to render thanksgiv- ing- for the innumerable blessings we have received, and earnestly to implore more, — all this has a tendency to deepen within us feelings of humility, penitence, gratitude, and devotion. It makes us more sensible of our weakness and our dependence upon Him who is the object of our prayers. In respect to his religious sentiments, in addition to what Mr. Lanman has said. Rev. Mr. Kirk, in his sermon on the death of Mr. Webster, entitled Great Men are God's Gift, uses the following language : — "Having noticed that on several occasions gen- tlemen have endeavored to show that his religious views were not definite, but indefinite, or, as some would term it, liberal, I would here mention an an- ecdote, which, from his own lips, I am authorized to say is authentic. Being asked by a Unitarian gentle- man, as he was coming out of an Episcopal church in this city, whether he believed that three and one are the same thing, he replied in a manner perfectly characteristic, as it properly disposes of the real difliculty of the Trinity, ' Sir, I believe you and I do not understand the arithmetic of heaven.' " 20 306 HIS OPIxMON OF EDWARDS. Ill fiirtlier illustration of his religious sentiments, we mention the following incident, as related by Rev. Dr. Choules, in his sermon on Mr. Webster's death : — " That evening I asked Mr. Webster if his religions views were those of the Orthodox Congregational- ists, with whom I had heard that he united in early life. ' Yes,' he said, ' he thought that he had never changed his religious opinions ; that he regarded Jonathan Edwards as being as nearly the stamp of truth as any mere human writer. He spoke of his History of Redemption as having greatly interested him, and added, ' But I prefer to find truth as it is conveyed to us in the word, without system, yet so clear and lucid.' In regard to the atonement, he expressed the most abiding confidence, observing that it seemed to him the great peculiarity of the gospel, to deny which, was to reduce it to a level with other systems of religion. He observed that he had ' no taste fi)r metaphysical refinement in theology, and preferred plain statements of truth.' He thought the pulpit had much to answer for in pro- ducing differences of opinion among Christians, and expressed his belief that the best and safest way to oppose all sorts of error was the plain enunciation of the truth. In this conversation I was much im- pressed with the remark, ' I take the Bible to be in- spired, and it must not be treated as though it mere HIS LOVE FOR WATTS's HYMNS. 307 ly contained a revelation ; it is a revelation. Yqu ministers make a great mistake in not dwelling more upon the great facts of Cliristianity ; they are the foundations of the system, and there is a power con- nected with their statement ; it seems to me that Peter and Paul understood this. Plain preaching is what we all want, and as much illustration as you can bring up. I once heard Dr. Beecher, in Hano- ver Street, Boston, talk for an hour on God's law, in its application to the heart and life ; he did it in my idea of good preaching.' " Mr. Webster was particularly pleased with those psalms and hymns by Dr. Watts which dwelt upon the atonement and salvation by faith in Christ. He reo-retted the modern alteration in some of them, by which, lie said, their classic beauty, not less than their devotional character, has suffered. The hymn now commencing, — " Here at thy cross, my dying Lord," &c., lie would have read, as in the original, — " Here at thy cross, my dying- God," &c. The beautiful hymn on the Christian Sabbath, dosing with the stanza, as now altered, — *' My willing soul would stay In such a frame as this, Till called to rise and soar away To everlasting bliss,'' — 1/ 308 HIS pastor's testimony. he would have, as Watts wrote it, — " My willing soul would stay In such a frame as this, And sit and sing herself away To everlasting bliss ; " the last two lines having a fine (.lassie allusion to the swan, thus indicating, more effectively, the devotional spirit. He often repeated the fifty-first psalm, and referred particularly to the stanza, — •' No blood of beasts, nor heifers slain, For sin could e'er atone. The blood of Christ must still remain, Sufficient and alone." Rev. Mr. Alden, the minister of Marshfield, in his address at Mr. '^Vebster's funeral, said, — " Those who were present upon the morning of that Sabbath upon which tliis head of a family con- ducted the worship of his household will never for- get, as he read from our Lord's Sermon on the Mount, the eniphasis which he alone was capable of giving to that passage which speaks of the divine nature of forgiveness. They saw beaming from that eye, now closed in death, the spirit of Him who first uttered that godlike sentiment. " And he who, by the direction of the dying man, upon a subsequent morning of the day of rest, read in their connection these words, ' Lord, I believe ; help thou my unbelief; ' and then the closing chap- PREPARATION FOR DEATH. 309 ter of our Savior's last words to his disciples, being particularly requested to dwell upon this clause of the verse, ' Holy Father, keep through thine own name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, as we are,' beheld a sublime illustration of the indwelling and abiding power of Christian faith. "And if these tender remembrances only cause our tears to flow more freely, it may not be improper for us to present the example of the father, when his great iieart was rent by the loss of a daughter whom he most dearly loved. Those present on that occasion well remember, when the struggle of mortal agony was over, retiring from the presence of the dead, bowing together before the presence of God, and joining with the afflicted father as he poured forth his soul, pleading for grace and strength from on high. " As upon the morning of his death we conversed upon the evident fact that, for the last few weeks, his mind had been engaged in preparation for an exchange of worlds, one who knew him well re- marked, ' His whole life has been that preparation.' The people of this rural neighborhood, among whom he spent the last twenty years of his life, among whom he died, and with whom he is to rest, have been accustomed to reoard him with mino'led ven- eration and love. Those who knew him best can the most truly appreciate the lessons both from his 310 REVERENCE FOR THE SUPREME BEING. lips and example, teaching the sustaining power of the gospel. " A mind like Mr. Webster's, active, thouglitful, penetrating, sedate, could not but meditate deeply on the condition of man below, and feel its respon- sibilities. He could not look on this mighty sys- tem, — ' This universal frame, thus wondrous fair/ without feeling that it was created and upheld by an Intelligence to which all other intelligence must be responsible. I am bound to say that in the course of my life I never met with an in- dividual, in any profession or condition, who al- ways spoke and always thought with such awful reverence of the power and presence of God. No irreverence, no lightness, even no too familiar allusion to God and his attributes ever escaped his lips. The very notion of a Supreme Being was, with him, made up of awe and solemnity. It filled the whole of his great mind with the strongest emo- tions. A man like him, with all his proper senti- ments and sensibilities alive in him, must, in this state of existence, have something to believe, and something to hope for ; of else, as life is advancing to its close, all is heart-sinking and oppression. De- pend upon it, whatever may be the mind of an old man, old age is only really happy when, on feeling RECOGNITION OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 311 the enjoyments of this worhl pass away, it begins to lay a stronger hohl on the reahties of another. " Mr. Webster's religravings, Music, Poetry, Painting, and Sculpture, and of the mast cel- ^ ebrated Literary Characters and Artists of different Countries and Ages, &c. By Kazlitt Arvine, A. M., Author of " Cyclopeedia of Moral and^ ileligious Anecdotes." With illustrations. 725 pages octavo, cloth, 3,00. This is unquestionably the choicest collection of anecdotes ever published. It con- tains tliree thousiiiul and fortj/ Anecdotes, and such is the wonderful variety, that it ■will be found an almost inexhaustible fund of interest for every class of readers; and to public speakers, to all classes of literary and scientific men, to artists, mechan- ics, and others, a perfect DiCTiONAKY,/or reference. There are also more than one Imndred and fifty fine Illustrations. We know of no work which comprises so much valuable information in a form so cnts-M'tahiing. — iV. Y. Chronicle. Here is a perfect repository of the most choice and approved specimens of this spe- cies of information. The work is replete with such entertainment as is adapted to all g! adfs of read^s, the most or least intellectual. — Methodist Quarterly Magazine. Oue of the most complete things of the kind ever given to the public. There 13 scnvccly a paragraph in the whole book which will not interest some one deeply ; for, Vhi le men of letters, argument, and art cannot afford to do without its immense fund Of sound maxims, pungent wit, apt illustrations, and brilliant examples, the mer- chant, mechanic and laborer will find it one of the choicest companions of the hours* Of relaxation. " "Whatever be the mood of one's mind, and however limited the time for reading, in the almost endless variety and great brevity of the articles he can tind something to suit his feelings, which he can begin and end at once. It may also be made the very life of the social circle, containing pleasant reading for all ages, at all times and seasons. — Buffalo Com. Advertiser. A well spring of entertainment, to be drawn from at any moment. — Bangor Whig. A magnificent collection of anecdotes touching literature and the fine arts. — Al- bany Spectator. The most comprehensive collection of anecdotes ever published. — Salem Gazette. A publication of which there is little danger of speaking in too flattering terms ; a perfect Tliesaurus of rare and curious information, carefully selected and method- ically arranged. A jewel of a book to lie on one's table, to snatch up in those brief moments of leisure that could not be very profitably turned to account by recourse to any connected work In any department of literature. — Troy Budget. IS'o family ought to be without it, for it is at once cheap, valuable, and very inter- esting ; containing matter compDed from all kinds of books, from all quarters of the globe, from all ages of the world, and in relation to every corporeal matter at all wor- thy Of being remarked or remembered. —New Jersey Union. A rich treasury of thought, and wit. and learning, illustrating the characteristics and peculiarities of many of the most distinguished names in history. — Phil. Chris. Obs, Tiie range of topics is very wide, relating to nature, religion, science, and art ; fur- nishing apposite illustrations for the preacher, the orator, the Sabbath school teacher, and the instructors of our common schools, academies, and colleges. It is a valuable ■work for the fireside, calculated to please and edify all classes. — ZanesviUe Ch. Reg. This is one of the most entertaining works for desultory reading we have seen. "W« hardly know of any thing at once so instructive and amusing. ~ N. Y. Ch. Intel. Q IMPORTANT WORK. KITTO'S POrULAR CYCLOPAEDIA OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE. Condensed from the larger work. By the Author, John Kitto, D. D., Author of "Scripture Daily Readings," &r. As- sisted by James Taylor, D. D. With over 500 Illustrations. 3,00. Tliis vork is designed to furnish a DrcTiONARY of the Bible, embodying the products of the best and most recent researches in biblical literature, in wliich the ficholurs of Europe and America have been engaged. The work, tlie result of im- mense labor and research, is pronounced, by universal consent, the best work of its class extant. It is not only intended for mimslers and theological students, but U lUso particularly adapted to parents. Sabbath school teachers, and the great bod;/ of the re- hgio lis public. The illustrations, amounting to more than 300, are of the highest order. A condensed view of the rarious to/jics comprcfiended in the icor/:. 1. Biblical Criticism, — Embracing the History of the Bible Languages ; Can- on of Scripture ; Literary History and Peculiarities of the Sacred Books ; Formatioa and History of Scripture Texts, 2. HisTOKV, — Proper Names of Persons; Biographical Sketches of prominent Characters ; Detailed Accounts of important Events recorded in Scripture ; Chronol- ogj" and Genealogy of Scripture. 3. GiiOonAPHY, — Names of Places ; Description of Scenery ; Boundaries and Mu- tual Relations of the Countries mentioned in Scripture, so far as necessary to illus- trate the Sacred Text. 4. Akcu.kology, — Manners and Customs of the Jews and other nations men- Coned in Scripture ; their Sacred Institutions, MiUtary Affairs, PoUtical Arrange- ments, Literary and Scientific Pursuits. 5. Physical Science,— Scripture Cosmogony and Astronomy, Zoology, Min- eralogy, Botany, Meteorology. In addition to numerous flattering notices and reviews, personal letters from a large number of the most distinguished Ministers and Laymen of different religions de- nominations in the country have been received, highly commending this work as ad- mirably adapted to ministers, Sabbath school teachers, heads of families, and aU Bible students. Tlie following extract of a letter is a fair specimen of individual letters received from each of the gentlemen whose names are given below : — " I have examined it with special and unalloyed satisfaction. It has the rare merit of being all that it professes to be; and very few, I am sure, who may consult it will deny tliat, in richness and fulness of detail, it surpasses their expectation. IMany ministers will find it a valuable auxiliary ; but its chief excellence is, that it furnishes Just the facilities which are needed by the thousands in families and Sabbath schools, •who are engaged in the important business of biblical education. It is in itself a li- brary of reliajjle information." W. B. Spracue, D. D., Albany ; J. J. Carruthers, D. D., Portland ; Joel Hawes, D. D., Hartford. Ct. ; Daniel Sharp, D. D., Boston ; N. L. Frothingham. D. D., Bos- ton ; Ephraim Peabody. D- D., Boston ; A. L. Stone. Boston ; John S. Stone, D. D, Brooklyn ; J. B. Waterbury, D. D.. Boston ; Baron Stow, D. D., Boston ; Thomas H. Skinner. D. D., Xew York : Samuel W. Worcester, D. D., Salem ; Horace Bushnell, D. D., Hartford, Ct : Right Reverend J. M. Wainwright, D. D., New York ; Gardner Spring, D. D., New York : W. T. Dwight. D. D.. Portland ; E. N. Kirk, Boston ; Profc George Bush, author of Notes on the Scriptures," New York; Howard Malcom, D. D.. author of " Bible Dictionary : " Henry J. Ripley, D. D.. author of " Notes on the Scriptures;" N. Porter. Prof in Yale College, New Haven. Ct.; Jared Sparks, Edward Everett. Theodore Frelinghuysen. Robert C. Winthrop. John McLean. Si- mon Greenleaf. Thomae S, Williams,— and a large number of others of like char- acter and standing of the above, whose names cannot here appear. H WORKS FOR BIBLE STUDENTS. A TREATISE O'^ BIBLICAL CRITICISMS ; Exhibiting a Systematic View of tiiat Science. By Samuel Davieson, D. D., of the University of Halle, Author of " Ecclesiastical Polity," " Introduction to the New Testament," etc. A new Revised and Enlarged Edition, in two elegant octavo volumes, cloth, 5,00. These volumes contain a statement of the sources of criticism, such as the MSS. of tlie Hebrew Bible and Greek Testament, the principal versions of both, quotations from them in early writers, parallels, and also the internal evidence on which critics rely for obtaining a pure text. A history of tlie texts of the Old and New Test*- nicnts, with a description of the Hebrew and Greek languages in which the Scrip- tures are written. An examination of disputed passages. Every thing is discussed ■which properly belongs to tlie ci iticism of the text, comprcliending all tliat conies un- der the title of Gcnerul hiiroductioa in Introduetioas to the Old and New Testament HISTORY OF PALESTINE, from the Patriarchal Age to the Present Time ; with Introductory Chapters on the Geography and .Natural History of the Country, and on the Customs and Institutions of the Hehrevvs, By John Kitto, D. D., Author of " Scripture Daily Read- ings," " Cyclopedia of Biblical Literature," &.c With upwards of two hundred TUustr aliens. 12mo, cloth, 1,25. A very full compendium of the geography and history of Palestine, from the ear- liest era mentioned in Scripture to the present day ; not merely a dry record of boun- sdariec, and the succeseion -of rulers, but an intelligible account of the agriculture, Siabits of life, literature, science, and art, with the religious, political, and judicial in- stitutions of the inhabitants of the Holy Land in all ages. A more useful and iQ- astructive book lias rarely been published. — N. Y. CoinmerciaL Beyond all dispute, this is the best historical compendium of the Holy Land, from the days of Abraham to those of JNIehemct AIL — Edinbur(jh Review. ^S- In the numerous notices and reviews the work has been strongly recommend- sed, as not only admirably adapted to the /amilu, but also as a text book for Sabbath Mild iveek day scJiooh. CRUDEN'S CONDENSED CONCORDANCE ; a New and Complete Concordance to tlie Holy Scriptures. By ALEXANDER CRU- DE N, Revised and Reedited by the Rev. David King, LL. D. Tenth Thousand. Octavo, cloth backs. 1,25. This work is jirinted from English plates, and is a full and fair copy of all that is ■valuable as a Concordance 'n Cruden's larger work, in two volumes, which costs,Af« dollars, while this edition is furnished at one dollar and ttoenty-five ceiit.^ ! The prin- cipal variation from the 'larger book consists in tlie exclusion of the Bible Dictionary,