Jwo G.M\JUfU W VI av. '\,..v \...a' ‘'~..’ ~...»‘ -»,x‘ I-..‘ '1./‘ '\./'”“..d“‘~»-..n‘ -!""m-7" \..«’""~,/ '\...«‘""‘\.»I"".."“ If} E L N D S J 1%.’. D 11. imaumc. f\o/kw)(W/kflJI\:(./\).\./\/lw)(}()1k)(D(Jr\)fW/‘.)()()(J«k)(\/lw)£\/\Yu‘nIr.\..J:klr.\)./5.1./.\\/(wlI\«.!a\\/\’A.\l4l...II\|/lwIrnWIf\«5/.\\/\mlI\1lII) K.) Jwaflt \1.§.\:,» MJ.«1«I/r\\/\\Ir\»I/r\|IA\1./\.m/yxi/\«\J...\ If \1..m\‘i/,l\aw(»».I,fn)‘(..|Ji...../(H. Jwl. 'u.k.|.nl.mlu \\".fI>|’v4‘Iu1./‘.4\rN‘,V‘\.L\lv.lIlu1IWIcm-31)ar!~z: PUDNEY «.2: 1>.,UsSJ2:.LI.. 1§53. DISCOURSE. “Am re rmr AXLE .mom: 1-um: em/xom mm; mm ALL YE 'r1-um mow ms NAME, .~;~mr, How its me €~'3'I‘RON(R- e'r_wr* nxwxczm, AND '1:1--ma: BIEEAUTIFUL teo;o.”~«--Jer. xlviii. 1'7. ’1‘me Word f.L11(;1 providence of God are but difl fe1'er1.t (2i.1£t}i)i3G1‘S in the eerue g1“eet vclurne, mutttztlly exp1.ei11i1:1g' mid e1i1fcrciI1g* e.:1.c1:1 other. ‘tiglltly to 1111der*e'tzim(1 either, we :m‘uet study them. bath. To 1:>ei1;rm;1:1ir1df'u1 of the important events Wlfich ere t.rztI1epi1:':ir1g 11I1.d61‘ the gcvernlneltrt of God, is to be Imxrxirxdftil of (:3‘re‘d himeelf. In his :mo.re re- n1er*I;::.eJe1.e p:rovider1ceeyeu see his hend, you hear his A "voice. God hiltieelf eppeere es the preacher, med supersedes all other egexixcy by hie OWI1 1112»- A jeetie utte"e.11ce. Wllen God thue epeeke, how be- co111i,11g is it in us to give ear! Especially when he epeelee in the miriietmtion of death. Often ee he passes before us in the exercise of this dread pre1°ogetive, he never does it Without laying a new €311113i1ii.f:‘:iE$ oiri his word, and enforcing the claims of hie ,_e0vereignty. Death, indeed, is at most fe- milier event, and seldom does it compel more than 4 a passing regard. Yet is it always the same momentous change; never is it less than the voice of God, uttered in tones of impressive solemnity. ‘Wherever, however, or on vvhomsoever it is execu- ted, it speaks of judgment and eternity, and that, Whether men will hear or forhear. But although death is the common. lot of all, involvi1.1g, in every case, consequences of infinite moment, yet to the Z'2?oi¢2.g it is more instructive in some instances than in others. It may be in- vested with circumstances which give it a peculiar significance and importance. All deaths do not afiect us alike, nor was it designed they should. The death of a straiiger is not the same thing to us, that of a dear friend. The community is more deeply afilicted by the decease of an enter- prising capitalist, Whose large investments, generous spirit, and untiring energy, furnished the means of support to scores of families and hundreds of in- dividuals, than it would he, had he been a poor man. In gathering, therefore, the lessons to be derived by the living from the demise of any person,—~—-laesides those elements which are com- mon to every instance of dissolution, We must con- sider the character, position, and general relations, which distinguish one man from another. The moral import of one man’s death, as compared with that of another, will depend upon his ante- cedents. VVe look to his history, to the nature 5 and extent of his influence in life, if We would estimate our loss. It may be that some can see nothing in such a course but a disposition to hon-— or men according to their worldly greatiiess, and not according to their intrinsic Worth. But it has no necessary connection with such a spirit. It is‘ "D merely an attempt to form an estimate of the contents of the event, by the facts they :”;LI'0; to ascertain What God means to teach us, by what he has done. If he has taken an i:1:1fai1“1,‘t; child from the family, —-—- to Weiggh its full, ‘la. i.m,po1"t; if he has removed the l.i1(’:£1.(l arid <:>inly i7(§f‘.f!ijl[11)(ii)"I':.tl support of the household, -—~—-~ to talic the ,«g;;:si1.ll1rr1,g;<:z am,l dirnensions of affect sore boreav‘e:me:nt. lint s1_,1,:rel.y it is no CllSp5L1‘ag‘e11f1GI1fi to the departed i11,:Fa‘1:it, and. no flattery to the deceased :f’ather, if the death which plunges the helpless widow and orplm.'r1.s , into the miseries of a :relentless poverty, thr<:>»vs‘s a darlger shadow, an d irnpresses nixore :;1L‘11(l we:igh.t~ ier lessons on their bereaved l1ee1*ts, tlfmzlri the death of the little one. Apart, then, :f.’;r'<:>1’x1, any honors offered to the dead, and apart from eny incense ofiered to the pride of the livirig, our own highest interests dernand that every death should be estimated not only by that which is essential to its nature, but also by those ciro11m~ stances which distinguish the departure of one man from that of another. r Death is clothed with peculiar emphasis, and "c 6 demands especial attention, When he strikes his dart at the high places of power. When a Prince or a President is laid low, a Whole nation is summoned to smourning. iNot to give reverent heed to such an event would be to traverse the - very design of God, who takes this method to arrest the current of Worldliness, and draw the thoughts of mankind to himself. VV'l1en Saul and Jonathan fell in the battle of Grilboa, David, re- garding it as a signal occasion for serious reflec~ tion and religious commemoration, set up a per- petual memorial in that exquisite song, ~~~--—- ‘‘ The beauty of Israel is slain in thy high places: how are the mighty fallen!” A And so at the destruc- tion of Moab, personified in their king, the pro- phet, in my text, calls to a general mourning over the , mighty catastrophe: “All ye that are about him bemoan him; and all ye that know his name, say, How is the strong stafl' broken, and the beautiful rod!” , But there is an ‘empire of mind, far more august, and far more influential, than any empire of physical force. And that empire has its prin- ces, its potentates, its high and mighty rulers, clothed with more than regal majesty, = and " in»- vested with at more than imperial sceptre.‘ iVVhen , ; a mind that has long reigned in the realm mg of r intellect, that has long, given character and direc-— i l tion to the current-thought , of the ‘, age, whose V 7 ‘great ideas have become interwoven with the mental and moral life of a nation, on Whose sa- gacity and power depend, in no small measure, the present and future interests of a mighty peo- ple; when such a mind passes away from these earthly scenes, an event transpires which may Well arrest universal attention, and bring the Whole civilized World to a solemn and mournful pause. Princes and Presidents can be, as they often have been, made out of very common materials, and when they are removed, it is not always a clifii- cult matter to fill their places. But when a pro- found and original thinker‘, a Wise and far-seeing statesman, an eloquent and commanding orator, ceases from among men, the loss may be irrepar-— able; . there may be no survivor to supply his place. A 7 A r Such‘ is the calamity that has now befallen the American people. A great and niiglity mind has passed away from earth. “The foremost man” of this 11ation, if not of the World, is num- bered with the dead. He whose Wisdom has so long been felt in our public councils, Whose elo- quence has so often thrilled the hearts of his countrymen, and whose sublime genius has for so many years been the admiration of the world, has disappeared forever from that august theatre on which but yesterday he was a most conspicu- ous actor. a The death of Mr.; Wnnsrnn is not an A 8 event to be passed over in silence; it ought not to be, and cannot be. The nation cannot lose its noblest son, Without knowing and lamenting the bereavement. The World cannot part With so great a light, Without a mournful consciousness of the loss. VVe must , lay it to heart, We do ,' not so much from a sense of duty, as from an im- pulse of necessity. This event has sent a moun-r tain wave of sorrow over the land, which is still rolling Westward, to break ere long on the Pacific coast. And While our cities are clothed in -sacl:~ cloth, and all men are touched with sadness, as under a heavy national afiiliction, » shall the pulpit alone be silent and indifferent? Has it no Words of comfort, instruction, or admonition to offer? Surely it belongs to the ministers of religion to interpret the moral import A of this event, and gather up its more significant lessons for general T edification. It is not my purpose, as it is not my prov»- ince, to sketcli the life, or attempt a full estimate of the character of the late Secretary of State. This has been, and will be done in places more appropriate, and by persons more competent to the diificult task. in My duty is of another kind. I am to contemplate the death of this great man, as at providential event, fraught with weighty in-4 struction to T the living. I am ' to inquire what lessons of wisiaom it teaches us -l-~———~ what benefits 9 we rmay derive from it as individuals, and as i A a nation. And what I have to say of him or of his history will be subservient to this practical end. In pursuance of my object, it may be well to contemplate, for a moment, the nature and extent of this national bereavement. The occasion which calls us to mourning is a most extraordinary one; it is such as can occur only at wide intervals of time. No death, since that of VVashington, has produced a sensation so extensive and profound. Wei may look far back into the ages, before we shall find another intellect, in all respects, the equal of his whose death we deplore; and ages to come may elapse ere the world will see his like again. Few generations since the race began, have been called to resign a treasure so rare and rich, as that which this nation has just commit» by ted to the grave. We have lost ‘great men be- t fore; men who were great in some one branch of attainment; but when has there a man gone from us, who had achieved greatness in so many and such diverse departments of power? .We have had profound lawyers, able statesmen, eloquent orators, and accomplished scholars. And it is usu-- ally considered honor enough to twin distinction in any one of these professions; but Mr. ‘Wan- isrnze united all of them in himself; he was emi- nent in them all. I'Ie stood at the head of the 10 American Bar; he Was the first of American , statesmen; and he had no superior among Ameri- can orators. Certainly there is no man left on either side of the Atlantic, in Whom are mingled so many elements of power. * Taken in parts, this or that attribute may be matched, or even excel- led; but taken as a whole, where will you find his equal? l The granite foundation of native com- 4 mon sense which supported the magnificent super- structure, and directed his powers to wise and i practicable ends; the massive and rugged strength of his intellect; the transparent clearness of his l reasoning; the heavy and resistless tread of his " argument; his relentless logic; his inevitable con- yiclusionsg his courteous and lofty bearing; his im- pressive dignity and force as he rose with his subject; the vast sweep of his thoughts over the field of discussion; the sustained and steady Wing, and sublime momentum with which he bore him- self gracefully, but unerringly and fatally, upon the object of his attack; the classic elegance of his diction; his chaste but rich imagination; and Withal, the majesty of his person, fit temple for his imperial mind; the flexible play and power of his deep, but finely-toned voice; the strange spell of an eye,forIned, ,“ To threaten_~.or coInman»d”-- , 11 the solemn grandeur, in fine, of that more than regal . front, “The great sou1’s apparent seat.” “A. combination and a form indeed, ‘ Where every [power] did seem to set [its] seal, To give the world assurance of a man:” A —- add to this, the sound and just principles, the i. generous and undying patriotism, to which all these exalted faculties were unalterably consecra- ted, and you have a union and concentration of great qualities such as God takes centuries to pro- duce. It has not fallen to the lot of every generation, nor of every age, to possess such an intellectual colossus. In this respect we have ene A gifts. joyed, and lost, one of God’s noblest and rarest.; Now We are to bear in mind that this gigan- tic intellect, with all its growing resources and accumulating experience, had been employed for forty years on the jurisprudence, the legislation, and the diplomacy of the country. For three years, A ,Mr. lWm3s';11:a:e had been almost con-V stantly in public life, either as a member of Con- gress or of the Cabinet. During i that period he had impressed his genius upon the lawfsof the A land and Aupon the laws. of nations; and . more broadly indelibly still, on the r minds and hearts of his countrymen. pTime alone can meas- _.A the sdrvice he has rendered, or decide how 152 much longer the Union will stand, than it would have done, had it not been for his triumphant , and far~famed defence of the Constitution; his in- fluence on the legislative councils, and his skill and sagacity in settling questions of international policy, which had long bafied negotiation, and were fast assuming a threatening aspect. He had come to be regarded as a mighty pillar of the state --—~ central, massive, towering‘; gracefully bear- ’ ing upon his Atlantean shoulders the glorious fabric of our beloved ‘Union. And what Ameri- can did not feel that the interests and the hon- or of the nation were safe in his hands? What American did not feel a conscious security and an honest pride in having such a man at the helm of government? Even “ Europe,” it has been truly said, “had come to see in his life a guaranty for justice, for peace, for the best hopes of civilization.” And yet he owed this foreign confidence to no betrayal of his country’s rights. He was every inch an American. He loved his native land with true filial devotion- He loved its soil, its scenery, its institutions and its people-— is its past glories and its coming grandeur. .He: lov-A eds it all. To him it Was one country, one peo- ple. ~ In his own expressive language," he “knew no North, no South, no East, no A West.” a He was eminently, I. had almost said pre-eminently, national in his spirit and general policy. ’ No public man 13 of his time Was more free from sectional jealousy and party littleness. Nor Will any one now rise up to question the purity or generosity of his ” patriotism. Himself the most gigantic growth of his country’s institutions, he joyfully consecrated to that country all that she had made him ;---~—- give ing to her the entire service of this life, and when life was ended, hequeathing to her the glory of his deathless name. A i , From these imperfect hints ~—-—- I dare attempt no comprehensive description of the man---vve may gather some idea of our loss, and judge Whether we have not something to learn from an event Which has made us a nation of mourners. "What, then, are the lessons which Divine Provi- dence is teaching us by this solemn dispensation? Without attempting to notice them all, I will se- lect a few of the more important. a I. The clectzfb of Mr. Wnnsrnn as am 7I9npree~ ezioe rebuke to the violence of party .e_g)2I9*«23t. There is something significant in the time of its occurrence, On the eve of at great national election, amid the heat and commotion of an ex» cited political canvass, i when the Whole mind and a heart of , the country are gathering» to a focus of . intensest feeling, as the day of decision draws, near, which is to raise one "of these competitors to the highest oflicial station in the World ; -«--at this critical moment, the foremost man of this re- 14 public is smitten down! , What a comment on the ‘uncertainty and vanity of all mere temporal interests! He, who had so long been associated in the public mind with questions and scenes like these, -——-—Whose powerful voice had so often been heard on such occasions, -—----vvhose elevation to the presidency has so long been the fond desire of multitudes, not a few of Whom adhered, to him even to the last i; -—~;——~ he who Was, in fact, a can-‘ didate for that higlf honor, at the present canvass, now lies a tenant of the silent tomb! And does not the death of such a man, occurring at such a moment, administer a solemn admonition to the intolerance of party spirit, to the fiercenessi of political strife? Does it not? say to the raging i A elements, “Peace, be still 2” Upon all the pursuits of earthly ambition, upon all the trappings of temporal power and glory, does it not pronounce with signal emphasis, “Vanity of vanities?” And will men still rush , ‘on as blindly, a.s madly, after a prize that is so liable at all times to be snatched from their grasp? Will they learn from this ca- lamity to put no restraint upon their passions, no regulating hand upon their measures a Will they not temper’ the present conflict with a spirit of moderation and forbearance, Which, While " it leaves" r,,iievery man to act according to his convictions of a duty, softens the asperities of political Warfare, and ‘which, repressing, on tea one hand, the _ inso- 15 lence of victory, assuages, on the hi other, the more tification of defeat 2* It did seem a few days ago, as if no event could arrest the public attention, or turn aside the powerfiil currents of . feeling then rushing on to the point of confluence. But God has- found means to do this very 1‘ thing. A voice has spoken which is"heard above the roar of popular clamor, and commotion. A new thing has come to pass. whole people, on the eve of an all-«engross- ing, all-exciting election, is suddenly diverted from the great question of the hour, and thrown into mourning, by the death of a single man---and he, i not a president; not a prominent candidate for president; not standing in the way of either of the great parties; yet was he the only man whose death could have produced such an efi‘ect--—--+- ii “Between the pass and fell-incensed points Of [these] mighty opposites,” a power was interposed, before‘ which both. par» ties fell back in awe, and forgetting . their strife, gave way to grief over the fallen object of their common veneration. Then was it that other thoughts than those of political life, were suggest» ed to the mind; other interests than those ofearth, were pressed upon their attention; other scenes than those of As time, rose on the ‘view ;a other ob: jects than those of selfish ambition, were present- ed to the eye. a For a moment, there was a sense 16, of this World’s emptiness, and a glance at the vast- ness and inconceivable superiority of the World to come. Visions‘ of the soul in its future state, i visions of God, of judgment and eternity, were flit- ting before men’s minds, and a shade passed over the glories of earth. Oh could those influences but remain, and humble the pride, and subdue the selfishness, and purify the motives, and elevate the aims of these living, beating hearts, so capae , cious of sin or holiness, of misery or happiness, what may blessed transformation would be witnessed‘ on the face of society, and in the affairs of gov- ernment ! A 2. The pr0m'dcm5c'al dasyocrtsatdon /w72,z'c7t we now dggolore, 75.9 fitted to awaken soldcdtude 2772, rcmect to the national welfare. l A l i It is not the least among the evils of party politics that they often blind us to the real value of our great statesmen} We associate these men with the heats, animosities, and ambitious schemes of partisan fwarfare, and We forget that over and above What is done for their respective parties as such, they do render a vast amount of important service to the country. True, they are not per» fect ,; they are not free from selfish and ambi--a tious aims. But i this is: only saying that they are omen ; and, after all, the service they perform may be just as valuable to the country as if they had no private ends Whatever. They are: the ministers 17 of God for good, independently of their motives. What they think in their heart, What their ulte- rior aims may be, is a matter between’ them and their Maker; but what actual service they render belongs to us and our children. And owing to the cause just mentioned, We are greatly liable to underrate that service. By their great Wisdom and power they have saved the nation from threat- ening dangers, not once or twice. By their learn» ing and sagacity they have built up the goodly fabric 3 of jurisprudence and constitutional govern- ment, under which tWenty~five millions of people repose in peaceful prosperity. , By their judicious counsels and wise administration, they have held a in check many rash and pernicious , , movements, many subtle, but fatal elements" which endangered the stability of our institutions, and, generally, they have tasked their exalted faculties to give 'a‘ healthful development to the uncalculated energies of this mighty nation. B B Such was Mr. Wnnsrnn: so long had he given A the strength of his transcendent intellect to the- public affairs of the country ----~ so identified was he with the national councils ---9-i so commanding was his influence, Whether in the majority or not ,-———- to such an extraordinary degree did he impress his own» ideas on the legislation of the country, that the history of the man ‘must be the history of the givernment during the period in question. As a 0 H 18 Secretary of State the connection was still more intimate and Vital. What he accomplished during his two short terms of service in that department, has saved us from war with Great Britain, has es- tablished most important principles of international law, and opened a new era in diplomacy. Now, is it possible that an influence so long continued, so iwise and safe and powerful, should suddenly he removedfromyus, ino more to guide, defend, and , control, without exciting , in our minds a sense of danger? Wheni we acknowledge that t the greatest man, and one of the purest patriots of the age has been taken away, A and that his place is not likely to be made good for years, if for genera- tions to come, must we not confess to a secret misgiving as to the effect of such a loss? Can we aiford to spare so much wisdom and power from our national councils? When darkness and per- plexity troubled the minds of men, how instinctive- ly our eyes turned to Wnnsrnn for light. ,And when any attempt was made to foment sectional jealousies, by a, concerted attack upon New-Eng— i land, the heaviest fire of which was discharged upon the person of her distinguished representa- tive, well do we remember with what, impatience, L yet assured confidence,‘ we waited for the vindica- r tion of our dishonored name A at the ‘hands of one whose rcornpetence to the task was better known thanr to hiwsrassailants.i, And never. will the r 19a nation, never Will. the World forget how that task was performed -—--~ how, with eye unbashed, and heart undismayed, he received the combined assault «--——- with What. impressive dignity he advanced to the de- fence --—- with what Titanic‘ strength he overthrew the positions of his opponents, shattering’ and scat: tering their forces as if a hail~—storm had swept the field. And how, with noble magnanimity, instead of pursuing his advantage by changing the seat of A the War, he raised on the ruins of this demolished armament, a plea or for the Union, which stands to this day the proudest monttment of his own fame, and the strongest pillar of the national edifice ~-—---- and Which, should that edifice ever crumble to ruins, will still remain, towering aloft in solitary grandeur and beauty, to mark the spot Where the temple of American liberty once stood. i .But he is gone. And whatever perils 111‘£Ly come hereafter, there is no one man to whom the whole A nation would instinctively turn for the defence of its rights. Who then Will say, that in the. death of Mr. .'VVi«n3srr:sn, We have lost no strength and in» curred no danger? It is Worthy of remark, too, that the standing and moral power of a nation among other nations, _ is due very it much to the reputation of her great ’ men. The glory Vof Greece and Rome consisted in the Worldwide renown of if their philosophers and statesmen, their poets and V military heroes. And‘ 20* when a nation begins to decline in illustrious men, she loses an element of power, which nothing else can supply. It is an impressive fact that within three years we have lost three of our most emi- nent statesmen-—-—— CALHOUN, CLAY, and Wnnsrnn. History scarcely furnishes a parallel of three men endowed with so extraordinary yet i dissimilar pow- ers of mind»-—-—coI:umencing public life so near to-- gether --'—— moving so constantly on the same august stage”-—-often opposed, and achieving their highest honors in conflict with each other, as if unable to find elsewhere antagonists who could draw out their whole force; continuing their public labors to the end of life, and falling at last on the high places of the field, with all their armor on. Long before their number was broken, they were the pride and boast of the whole nation; they were r known as the s ,“ Three Mighties” of our American «chieftains. And a sad day it was, when the first‘ of their number was borne away from the scene of his senatorial renown. Still, we oomforted our: selves that CLAY. and Wnnsrnn remained. And when, at length, the great orator of the Wes‘t» had been carried in funerealf pomp through the land, all eyes, all hearts turned ; fondly, and with aug- ,gg, ii “ ,, . , , « Imht v con- 21¢ tinue to live for many a year to come, the defence and the pride of his native land; Already he had become an historical character, and his fame a sna-4 tional possession. Too great to be the exclusive A property of any one party, he was proudly claim-t ed by every American, abroad, if not at home, as his country’s most illustrious son. And as the” frosts of time and the rich lights of a long and eventful experience were gathering a ripe and mel- low radiance upon that majestic head -—-—- while the shadows of an approaching eternity were settling in deeper lines on that solemn countenance---»--we watched the cl1.-..nge witl1 reverential awe, and clung to him the more fondly, as we saw how ‘soon we must behold his face no more. And now he too has followed his great compatriots. We have been ~ compelled at last to resign him to the claims of death. lAnd as the eye travels slowly up to that intellectual eminence where he reigned so long A and? ~ so gloriously, it discovers but a vacant throne, which no man on earth can fill, and which is likely to remain a monument to the greatness of the departed, and to the inferiority pl of“ the sur~ vivors. ~ l ' t it Never was there a more ipressiver illustration of the effect of death; in suddenly vsrevealing the \ real value of a i great ijHighly Mr, WEB-A same was appreciated,~i tooi us by r to find, on hisrlrdecease, ihoiw muchiiie learn of’ i : :, A ; 22 his actual greatness. We knew not how wide a space he filled in the public eye, until -we saw the void occasioned by his removal. It could not but be so. It is scarcely possible to form an adequate estimate of such a man when living. To say noth- ing of party animosity, which blinds so many to the excellences of an opponent, and which gene- rates so many fou1—slanders to defraud him of his l good name; leaving this out of view, there is a difliculty in taking the real altitude of a great man while he is yet with us. , We are too familiar with his presence; his influence, thought powerful and manifold, falls upon us so constantly and so insensibly, that we fail" to observe it. It is not when walking in the light of the sun that we get the most vivid conception of our dependence on his beams, but when some eclipse, or mysterious day of darkness, hides him from our view. Long had we been accustomed to lift‘ our eyes to this majestic column standing in our national temple, but we knew not its girth, its height, the space it occupied, or the weight it supported, until it fell ;l and the thundering shock, and the mighty " void, the bending roof, revealed, as in an in- stant, the irreparable loss. , y We know that governments precede a ,1 declara- tion of war, by the re-call of ambassadors. Is it because God is about to change his face towards A ‘ 16:5’, that he hastaken away ~ourthree, greatest men? 23 If a day of trouble is coming, then why is it that before the battle begins, we have lost our ablestr champions? If you point to our national great- ness and prosperity, as enough to silence these fears, I reply, that the Israelite of eSolomon’s time might have drawn the same inference from the uneX- ampled stability and glory of the kingdom at that period; -—---yet the reign of Solomon proved to be the grand climacteric of the Israelitish nation- From that culminating point of their power, they fell into insignificant and belligerent fragments, l which gradually declined until they became extinct. The nation never saw another Solomon. He was the last and highest result of the civilization of his age. In the tropics there is a tree which yields nothing but a tuft of leaves at its top, until fifty years of age, when it gives birth to one gigantic, glorious flower, and then dies. 13 mag; be that this illustrious triad of statesmen, who have now gone to their graves, constitute that gigantic growth, which our country has been struggling for a cen- tury to produce: and that having achieved the wonder, she will repeat it no more, but give place to an age of decline, both of men A and deeds. , Our physical resources may be undiminished-—-—é~ we A may be great in numbers and wealth, but fdefi-‘A cient in great and illustrious rulers and citizens. God may be preparing to punish us , as the threat- A ened to punish the J ews. .“ Behold the Lord 24 doth take away from Jerusalem and Judah the stay and the stafi’, the Whole stay of bread, and the Whole staff of Water, the mighty man, and V the man of War, the judge and the prophet, and the prudent and the ancient, the honorable man and the counsellor, and the eloquent orator ; A and I will give children to be their princes, and babes shall rule over them, and the people shall be op-v pressed, every one by another, and every one by his neighbor : the child shall behave proudly against the ancient, and the base against the hon- orable.” Should " God ever leave this nation to such a fate ; --- should a time ever come When the land, sterile of great souls, shall be given up to men of moderate minds, of little reason, but of great passions ;—-- when a headless, heartless multi- tude, left to the dark promptings of their baser nature, and no longer able to discern the path of Wisdom, of right, and of safety, shall make to themselves rulers who Will unscrupulously gratify their evil desires and obey their imperious will ; -- vvhen servility of spirit shall be regarded as a bet- ter qualification for ofice than intellectual strength, profound sagacity, sound principles, and large eX- perience : --—- then, in the misrule and oppression, the confusion and anarchy of that dismal period, will itiibe seen What a precious boon God confers upon, a nation, when he gives them a leader of pi a consummate ability for government, Whom they are 25 Willing and proud to follow. And it will also be seen What a calamity '- is the removal of such a man. But this very thing God has begun to i do- He has taken away “the mighty man,” “the prudent and the ancient,” “the honorable man, and the counsellor, and the eloquent orator” --——- and. if he does r not i go on to give us “children for our. princes, and babes to rule over us,” it must be because his people, alarmed by these judgments, are enabled“ to prevail with him by prayer to lighten his hand. Here is our only hope-——----- God ,may it yet be entreated for our country. Let Chris- tian patriots intercede with him , not to forsake us utterly, nor cause his faithfulness Wholly to fail. Let us i invoke upon our land arain of righteous- ness, that heavenly gift Which, more than any other, supplies every loss, and without which noth- ing, not even great men, can save ; us. 7 e A 3. The event of wlmicib we gsggoewk, is one of is tereszf to , the cause of Ohrissirianity. It is the shameless boast of r infidels that none but Weak and inferior minds can be satisfied with A the argument .for Christianity. And many are the . dupes of this arrogant falsehood. this miserable charge, We are to the the bgitterestt enemies of A Had he been an infidel, hovvivvould thpfact have i y A of , the Gospel! it been emblazoned or to ,3 the great name of ,DAIi\TIELi Wnnsraa .o ty a _respect. . . 26 And‘ how baleful would have been his influence A on multitudes of men! But God was pleased to spare us such a calamity; and we are permitted to know that his powerful mind never was en. snared by the sophistries of infidelity. His child- hood was nurtured under the influence of Chris- tianity ;--—-——-the Assembly’s Catechism formed a lead- ing element of his education. And he never was known, I believe, to deny the great doctrines of the Gospel. The instructions of the nursery were deliberately indorsed by the mature judgment of the jurist and the statesman. So far was he from i being a skeptic, that he was not even a specula- tor on religious subjects. His convictions were too strong and fixed to admit of speculation. Divine truths seemed to rise up before him like great mountains, resting immovably on everlasting foun- dations, and throwing their vast forms‘ in clear, bold, rigid outline against the sky, ----- and when- ever he spoke of them, it was as if he felt their awful shadows. Never shall I forget the i1npres~- , sive solemnity of countenance and voice, with which he uttered the peroration of ~ his celebrated argument at the trial of the Knapps for the der of Mr; White. “A sense of duty,”l, said ,Mr. . if Wnnsrnn on that occasion, “pursues us 3ever;» ' is . omnipresent like the Deity. If we take to our- “ selves the swings of the morning and dwell in the ’ Ttaersstt 3 parts of the seas, duty performed, or 27 duty violated, is still with us, for A our happiness, , or our misery. If We say the darkness shall cover us, in the darkness as in the light, our obligations are yet with us. We cannot escape their power, nor fly from their presence. They are with us in this life, will be With us at its close; and in that scene of inconceivable solemnity which lies yet farther onward, We shall still find ourselves surrounded by the consciousness of duty, to pain us Wherever i it has been violated, and to console us so far as God may have given us grace to perf'orm it.” This serious cast of thought was a prominent characteristic of Mr. WnBsrJsrL’s mind. It continually 1.nani:fests itself in his speeches and Writings. He seemed to be in habitual contact with religious truth, and hence his allusions to it were easy and natural. lTo say the very least, the Christian system had become necessary to meet the demands of his intellect, and to maintain the . equipoise of all his faculties. Such a mind as his, could not rest in the low and narrow COI1Cl11SlOIl3 _of infidelity ;-——-—--it must needs overlap the boun- daries of time, and stretch p. on towards the in- finite ;-——- it must needs go out of itself‘, and out of this visible scene, to find the complement of its being, and an appropriate theatre for its agency. ‘His superior mental stature, While it enlarged his horizon, showed him how mean a thing is man it i i when separated from his Maker. ~ “ Religion,” said : 28 Mr. Wnnsrnn, standing on that intellectual summit, and looking down the vista of eternity, ,“ religion is a necessary and indispensable element in any great human character. There is no living without it. Religion is the tie that connects man with his Creator, and holds him to his throne. If that tie be sundered or broken, he floats away a worthless atom in the universe, its proper attraction all gone, its destinies and its whole future, nothing but darkness, desolation and despair. A man with no sense of religious duty, is he whom the Scriptures describe in such terse and terrific language, as ‘living without God and without hope in the world.’ Such a man is out of his proper being, out of the circle of all his duties, out of the r circle of all his happiness; away, far, far away from the purposes of his creation. A man, a true man, with all his proper sentiments and sensibili- ties alive in him, in “this state of existence, must have something to believe, and something to hope for, or else, as life is advancing to its close, all is heart-sinking and oppression.” To those who afiect to ‘sneer at personal piety l as the superstition of weak and deluded minds, lIi commend. this noble testimony. Whether its gift- ed author was himself an illustration of his own principles, is not now; the question. Here is his a deliberate rjudgmcmt that religion, so far from being Uhwdrthyyryiof‘ i our belief, I is “an indispensable ele- 29 ment to any great human character ;” that, with». out it, man is mean, miserable, lost; that it is not a thing beneath us, but soaring high above us,--——- not a mere decency or decoration, to be accepted or rejected according to our taste, but an affair of such imperative necessity that “there is no living without it.” l\Tor did he mean by religion, a cold, generalizing philosophy, or a vague and vapid sen- tirnentalism, which reaches no man’s conscience, and benefits no man’s heart. “If clergymen in our days,” said he on a recent occasion, “Would re- turn to the simplicity of the Gospel, and preach more to individuals, 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 listen. 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 speed- ily. You are im1nortal,»too; you are hastening to the bar of God; the Judge stancleth before the door I’ ,When I am thus admonished, I have no disposition to muse or to sleep.” On another occa- sion Mr. WEBSTER "said to his pastor at Marshfield, “When I attend upon the preaching of the Gospel, I wish to have it made a personal matter-—-— a per- sonal matter.” Now when We see such a mind as 30 Mr. WnBsrnn’s, yielding a full, unhesitating, and steadfast assent to the great truths of Christianity, --—-- when we hear him insisting on practical piety as necessary to at high character, a happy life, a peaceful death, and a glorious immortality, —~———we it feel that it is answer enough to the infide-l’s ma-— lignant sneer, that no great and philosophic mind can yield its convictions to the claims of Christian- ity. We offset this insulting imputation with this weighty eXample._ l r 4. The wn.o-Wwfwl event we are eovzelclerivzg teaches us the emptiness of all mere lmmcm glory. Few men ever had more of the admiration, the almost adoration, which is given to transcendent genius, than Mr. WEBSTER. No physical power could build such a throne as that on which he reigned; no wealth could fashion such a crown as that which encircled his princely head; no position, no olfice on earth could have added anything to his great- ness. He held a rank not dependent o11 the popu- lar vote, and swayed a sceptre which no change of parties could iwrench from his hand. file place was in the constellation of “ ever-during men.” From the hour his sun rose, it attracted the gaze, . first of his native State, then of Ne w-England, then of the nation, and finally of the whole world. ,And never, for one moment, was that gaze taken ea‘; it fol- d lowed his every ovement; it watched his every act; it .suffered, nothing to escape unnoticed; it 31 grew more absorbing, more intense, as he moved sublimely on in his orbit : —--- “ in wonder it began, in i wonder it ended, and admiration filled up the interspaoe.” And when at last this resplendent luminary was seen touching the horizon, the whole nation, as if suddenly conscious that a great light was about to pass away, awaited in awful suspense as it slowly but steadily sunls: from the view of mortals. And still, all eyes are turned fondly and mournfully to the lingering glory, which marks the spot wl1ere' his sun went down. If there were any- thing in the enthusiastic admiration of millions,—--- in the eager crowds that every where followed him and hung upon his lips, --~—-in the applause of enrap- tured se11ates,----in the ovations of cities, --—~—-- in the homage of the civilized world : ——,—-if there were any- thing in the proudest triumphs of argument, ora- tory, and statesma11ship,——-—- anything in the conscious- ness that in all future ages he would take rank with Burke and Chatham, and Cicero and Demos- thenes ; »--—-~if in all this there were elements that could satisfy his great soul, then Wnnsrnn must have been the happiest of mortals. But while he was doubtless fully sensible of the value of a good and a great name, it does not appear that he look- ed chiefly to these honors for happiness. On the contrary, he remarked to a clergyman in Boston, sooh after his recent nomination for the Presidency, that “he would most gladly resign all competition 32 for ofice--—-all earthly honors, for an assurance that his salvation Was secure.” And in that last sub- lime scene, when the dying statesman had most need of whatever support he could find, We do not learn that he once turned for consolation to his public service, his distinguished reputation. Not a Word is reported from him indicating a self-righteous re- liance upon duties done, or any particular satisfac- tion in the deathless fame he had achieved. His desire for a. private burial, with no other than the accustomed service of _ the village pastor, indicates rather, that of earthly honors he had had enough; that his soul turned from them with loathing. Far other thoughts occupied his mind in that solemn hour. Thoughts of sin and its forgiveness, thoughts of God and of Christ, shut out the poor glories of this world. He felt for other pillars, for other sup» ports than the creature could give. “Thy rod,” said he, “thy rod, thy stafi, that is What I womzfi.” “Heavenly Father, forgive my sins, and receive me to thyself, through Jesus Christ.” Whether this Was the utterance of a /real favlzfh, it is not for me to say. But What a testimony this to the vanity of mere temporal distinctions! It tells us that at the feet of Christ, the Wise man must forget his wisdom, and the mighty man his strength. It tells us that unless united by faith to the Son of God, the largest honors will he a worthless possession, if not a wreath of torture. It tells us that there is 33 nothing in the grandest achievements of earth, from which the soul will not gladly turn“ i11 a dying hour, to find anchorage in the simple but sublime truths of Christianity. It tells‘ us that While the Gospel is not too high for the humblest capacity, it is not too simple for the loftiest intellect; nay, that all men must become as little children if they would partake of its salvation. It tells us, in fine, that the noblest endowments, the highest attain- ments, and the most dazzling fame, must be laid at the feet of Jesus, as the l'10I1'1a,._Q,"8 due to his Infinite Majesty, on whose head are many crowns, and at whose feet angels and archangels Veil their resplend- ent glories. And will men, with so impressive an example be- fore them, still plunge on in the race of ambition? Will they covet earthly honor just as eagerly, and sacrifice as much to gain it? If the peerless re- nown of at WEBSTER Was nothing to the departing soul, compared with an interest in Jesus, then of What so great Worth is that “ bubble reputation,” which common men are likely to win? Why should We purchase it With the loss of one moment’s peace of conscience, or with the neglect of a single duty? Posthumous _ fame, althougll the noblest of earthly distinctions, and appealing to a more refined ambi- tion than any other, is, after all, but a poor boon for which to live. He who is actuated by no higher object than this, is doomed to a miserable disap- r 3 34 pointment. Look at the most illustrious names of history. They live, indeed, and will live, as long as mankind are capable of admiring genius, or re- vering moral excellence ;—--——l3ut how little, neverthe-— less, are their memories present to the ordinary con- sciousness of mortals! How little do the names of Homer, Demosthenes, and Cicero, mingle with the daily experience of the present age! Even Solomon with “all his glory,” With all the advantage of a prominent place in that inspired volume, which millions are reading every day, with all the prac- tical influence which his Wise sayings are exerting on the principles and conduct of men ;-——-how little does the memory of his yet unrivaled greatness en? ter into the thoughts of our modern World! Could he have foreseen how his matchless fame, Which, like a sun, filled his own age with its lustre, would grow less and less as centuries should roll away, until it would twinlzle a little star in the firma- ment ;----could he have lstnown how dimly its feeble light, struggling through the mists of intervening generations, would fall at last on the vision of a World Which once was dazzled with his splendor ;—-——- surely he would have exclaimed with tenfold em- phasis, “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity 1” And such is the phantom which tempts and deludes A the men of the earth. Each new candidate hopes to he an exception “to that forgetfulness which has 35 overtal<:en his predecessors, yet onl.y furnishes a new illustration of its certainty and universality. Nevertheless, though the Worldling realizes noth- ing from this quarter but vanity and vexation of spirit, there is a posthumous fame which is no phantom,——-av fame that is something more than a cold and barren fact; -——--«it is the fame which belongs to goodness. “ The righteous,” we are told, “shall be had in everlasting re1nen1brance.” “They that be Wise shall shine as the firmament, and tl1ey that turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever and ever.” Their names will be enshrined in the men1o- ry of Grod, in the love of God, and in the afi:'ec~ tions of the holy. “Because I live,” said Christ, “ ye shall live also.” And long he lives, they live; he dieth no more, neither will they. For in him they live, and move, and have their being. There are, strictly speaking, no deathless names but those which are Written in the Lan:Lb’s Book of Life. Posthumous fame is too often identified with this World, ——'witl1 the fading memories and empty -praises of dying men. But it becomes us to re— member that this transient scene can last but a little longer. A few more centuries at most, and the end will come, when the “ cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, the great globe itself,” shall 36 be whehned in the ruin of an all-consun:1i11g con- flagration. And we are also to reflect that “Beyond this vale of tears There is a life above; Unmeasured by the flight of years, And all that life is love.” There, my hearers, in that eternal abode, is the grand theatre for an enduring fame. Of What ac- count irsr a a few years’ remernhrance on earth, when earth itself is shortly to be destroyed? The only a important question is, shall We have a remem- rbrance, an “ everlasting re1ne1nhrance,” in that World Where all the righteous, and the ” righteous only, will he gathered-—--- the seat of Grod’s immediate presence -———’the scene of his final triumphs ---—- the perfected result of his mediatorial government -——— that World whose holiness and happiness are se- cure ifrorn invasion or change; whose glories never fade ; whose duration never ends! A Wl1en the portals of’ death opened to receive our illustrious statesman, ——-~—-- as his great soul passed A solitary ‘and alonewithin the vail, ----saW ye, through the uplifted gates, nothing of that vast and solemn” - World, which stretches illirnitahly beyond? a World to which our own is but a speck on the fields of immensity ! Caught ye no glimpse of the countless myriads who people it 2‘ And rose there i not on your sight the vision of that infinite mae- yyjesty, e which reigns ~ over those boundless regions 2 _¢ U 37 And do not the things of earth shrink to insig- nificance before the overshadowing greatness of that scene? Does it not open to A use a sphere of ex- istence to which the whole duration of this World is but a point of time? Could We certainly know V that he, Whose death We mourn, entered that mighty World in the strength of a Zimizzig faith, leaning as a little child on his Saviour, and car- rying with l1im the “power of an endless life,” ~———--— , then would We award to him in that last how‘, the achievement of a victory transcending all his earthly triumphs, and the Winning of a glory out» dazzling all his intellectual honors; a victory to which there” is no reaction; a glory to which there is no Waning or ending. Yes, my hearers, one duty performed, one sin slain, one forward step on the path of holiness, one throb of repeiitance, one act of faith, is Worth more to the soul, Will tell more on its , eternal future, than the proudest deeds ever celebrated by the trump of fame. “ Seelszest thou greatness things for thyself? seek them not.” If God has }:€11(lOW~ ed you with noble gifts, —-- cultivate ltliem to the utmost for his service; if he has called you to distinguished honors, —— lay them cheerfully at the a r foot of the cross, and “ be clothed with humility.” Live for holiness, for * usefulness, for Christ, for A eternity, and you shall be “ had in everlasting A rmen1brance;’l"-——-nay, when A these heavens are no 38 more, you shall shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of your Father. i We have looked, for the last time, on one of the greatest of the sons of men; and our hearts are saddened with the thought that we sl1all never see his superior or his equal again. But who that knew l1im will not have more ex» alted ideas of the capacities of the human mind for growth under n1ore genial skies? From such exhibitions of mental stature, what grand concep- tions do we gather respecting the developments to be realized ' in heaven! If, on tl1is little planet, among these ruins of sin, and under this burden of flesh, there may be exhibited an i11tellectual growth so prodigious, then wl1at n1ay we not an» ticipate iii the progress of regenerated mind, wl1en, on the boundless fields of Paradise, escaped froni the elislavement of sin, and from the drag of a mortal frame, the soul girds herself for an eternal race! Elastic with the energies of a spiritual body, that never knows fatigue or asks for rest; impelled by the yearnings of a holy nature; at- tracted by the unveiled glories of a present God; by union with Christ, sharing his almighty powe.r; no steps to be lost, no eflbrts to be wasted by misdirection; every forward move to be rewarded with immediate success and with a new thrill of happiness; and this to go on for- ever, uncl1ecked,undiminished, ever-increasing ----- Oh, 39 who can tell how great the human mind may be- come in the progress of such a career? In the on- ward course of that sublime march, the entire hea~ venly host advancing in one solid phalanx, every foot moving to the cadence of celestial music, the rear rank will surely overtake each positio11 succes- sively occupied by the van. “ The feeblest among them will soon be as David.” The infant that en- ters heaven to-day, will in due time outgrow the most angelic intellect that now leads the glorified host. The time may come when that spark of in- telligence may know more, may reach a loftier altitude, and describe a vaster orbit, than can now be afi‘irmed of the Whole multitude of ransomed saints. But Where i z‘J2,en will be the advanced guard? the patriarchs and apostles? What eye can measure them? ,What imagination can con- i ceive of their attainments in intellectual and moral greatness’ Truly, there is nothing on earth so grand, so august, so capacious of amazing growth in all the elements of power and goodness, as the vi lmmcm mind I Do We realize that to each one of r us this exalted gift is committed? Oh, let ussave i i it for Christ, for heaven, for the unfolding gloriesr of an eternal life! , A r But we may not stop here. We ascend to a still higher eminence. Above the loftiest human intelligence; above those stupendous works of God, in the study of which that intelligence has ‘Won 40 its prouclest triumphs; above the head Waters of time and creation, ere a star glittered on the fir- mament, or an angel sung before the throne, We see one infinite, eternal Mind, purposing and plan- ning all this wondrous system! That mincl is the MIND or Ul:IRISTl Before it all other intelligences pale their fires. And Were its mysterious c9"ectZ5i0m‘- made level to our comprehension, itself would re- main the suhlimest mystery, of all; exalted in un- approachahle grantleur above the most adventurous flight of finite powers. Here then, ye lovers of intellect, ye worshipers of genius, let man be for- gotten, and let all hearts he fillecl to adoration with the presence and the glory of this stupendous Being. At His feet let earth and heaven, the Church militant and triumphant, men, angels and arohangels, cast their honors and their crowns, and from henclecl knees, with glowing hearts, anal elo- quent lips, exalt Him first, Him last, and Him for- ever! A A Digitization information for the Daniel Webster Pamphlet Project University Libraries University of Missouri——Columbia Local identifier web000 Digitization work performed by the University of Missouri Library Systems Office Capture information Date captured Scanner manufacturer Scanner model Optical resolution Color settings File types Source information Format Content type Derivatives — Access copy Compression Editing software Editing characteristics Resolution Color File types Notes 2004-2005 Minolta PS7000 600 dpi Unknown tiff Pamphlets Text with some images Uncompressed Adobe Photoshop 600 dpi Bitonal; images grayscale tiff Pages cropped and brightened Blank pages removed Property marks removed