YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

3 9002 06092 9735

MoCoy.
Funeral oration on the death
of Daniel Webster. 3d ed.
3oston, 1856.

Cb69 456

KfoMthe founding of a. College in this- Colony"

Bought with the income
of the
Clarence Campbell Fund

FUNERAL ORATION

Oi\" THE DKATH OF

HON. DAIIEL WEBSTER,

ur

AMASA McCOY.

LETTERS FROM DISTINGUISHED SOURCES
IN CONNECTION WITH THE DEATH OF HON. DANIEL WEBSTER.

[From Hon. John K. Porter.] Albany, Nov. 20, 1852.
Mt Bear Sir : I have just finished a second reading of your Funeral
Oration on the death of Mr. Webster, and cannot refrain from congratu
lating you on the masterly ability which characterizes the production.
I have read it with more gratification than any of the other numerous
addresses which have been occasioned by his death. It seems to me to be
in entire accordance with his own views of his claims upon the present and
after times. It speaks bodly, what he felt deeply — the truth that his
countrymen in refusing to requite his services by elevating him to the
first office in the government, were equally unjust to him and to them
selves. It does justice to his character and position. It speaks of him
as he should be spoken of in history, and this with a beauty and eloquence,
which cannot fail to make it peculiarly acceptable to the friends of Mr.
Webster. If the Oration should be published in pamphlet form, may I ask yon to
favor me with a copy. Tours very truly,
Prof. Amasa McCoy. JOHN K. PORTER.
[From Rt. Rev. Bishop Kip.] Albany, Nov. 23, 1852.
Dear Sir : I received yesterday a number of the New-York Express,
containing your Funeral Oration on the death of Daniel Webster; for
which attention I suppose I am indebted to you. I avail myself there
fore of an early opportunity to thank you for it, and express the pleasure
which it afforded me. I have no hesitation in saying, that I consider it
the most able I have seen on this event; and well worthy of the com
mendation bestowed upon it by the editor of the Express. Your estimate
of Webster's character and writings strikes me as being peculiarly
felicitous. With my best wishes for your success in your literary career, I remain
Tours, very respectfully,
Prof. McCoy. W. INGRAHAM KIP.
[From President Fillmore.]Washington, Nov. 24th, 1852.
Sir : I had the honor to receive your note of the 16th inst., accompanied
by a copy of your eulogy upon the late Daniel Webster, for which I beg
leave to return you my thanks. My time has been so much occupied,
that I have only been able to peruse a few paragraphs, with which I have
been much pleased; and I doubt not you have done the subject ample
justice. Respectfully yours, MILLARD FILLMORE.
[From Hon. Edward Everett.]
Department op State, Nov. 29, 1852.
Dear Sir : I have received to day your favor of the 26th, with the copy
of your Oration which accompanied it. I am greatly indebted to you for
giving me the opportunity of reading it in a corrected form. I have given it
a hasty perusal, but amidst such incessant interruptions, and such pre
occupation, that I have not done justice to myself in reading it. I have
laid it carefully by for a leisure hour, with the sure promise of a rich
intellectual treat. What I have read, sufficiently shows me, that you
have entered deeply into the great theme.
Be pleased to accept my thanks for the kindness of your personal
allusions, and believe me, with much regard,
Very respectfully, yours,
EDWARD EVERETT.
Prof. Amasa McCoy, National Law School,
Ballston Spa, N. T.

[From the Same.] BosTON) , De0-> 1855.
Dear Sir : I am greatly obliged to you for a «opy of your «£™M° ¦
eulogy on Mr. Webster ; and for giving me an opportunity of «"P«"»"£
in a revised form, what afforded me so much pleasure at its first appear
ance. *******
I remain, dear sir, with much consideration,
Pro, McCoy, Albany, N. T. J" ^^D EVEKETT.
[From the family of the late Hon. Jeremiah Mason.]^ ^
Dear Sir: The pleasure our family circle (that of the ^ '««™**
Mason-Mr. Webster's early friend) have received ^ <^t™ Soa
listening to an address of yours, delivered at the church in BaUston bpa,
on the death of Mr. Webster, induces me to write to you to _as k . it^ tne
address has been published in pamphlet, and where we can obtain a num-
beTour°ePloquent and warm-hearted tribute to the memory of one who
from infancy I have loved and revered, is my only apology lor tnus
troubling you. With mnAr-r^ ^^ CEAFTg.
Prof. Amasa McCoy, Ballston Spa. Boston, Jan. 3d, 1853.
My Dear Sir : I have sent you by the mail, several copies of your
address on the death of Mr. Webster, for which we are indebted to Mr.
Samuel Lawrence, who was so much interested in it, that he had it printed
in pamphlet form. I notice several errors in it, but the impertect news
paper report will account for that. .
I am glad of the opportunity of sending a tribute so just and pleasant
to friends at a distance. We have pleasant memories of the past summer,
having been three times at Marshfield, and seen Mr. Webster in the home
he loved so well. You admired the great man for his public acts, and so
do I ¦ but I cannot remember the time I did not love him as my father's
early and constant friend— a friendship over which for thirty years never
passed a cloud. Believe me, respectfully yours,
1 MARIANNE MASON CRAFTS.
A. McCoy, Esq., BallBton Spa, N. Y.
TFrom Messrs. Harper & Brothers.]
New-York, Nov. 30th, 1852.
Dear Professor: *******.*.*„
We should have been glad to have received your Oration in time for
publication in our Magazine (as what we have published in our December
number does not suit us) ; but unfortunately, our January number (ex
cepting the monthly summary) is already on the press.
* « «'•••*• * •« •
Yours, truly, HARPBR & BROTHERS.
[From Rev. Dr. Jacob, Principal King's College, Province N. Brunswick.]
Kino's College, Fredericton, N. B.,
6th December, 1852.
Dear Sir : * * I will not pretend to describe the admiration
with which I have read this Elisoan eulogy on the apotheosis of your trans
lated Elijah ; but content myself with avowing the gratification with which
I receive your testimony, that possibly an Englishman, at the head of suoh
an institution as this from which I write, might not have irrecoverably
participated in Provincial prejudices against the merits and memory of a
wise and good, and therefore great American.
I shall transmit the Oration to ... . Having already conceived, and I
may add, declared, his high regard for such republicans as Channing,
Everett, Story and Webster, he will I am sure be far from regretting that
suoh a soul and voice as yours, should have migrated to a country where
you can be duly heard, felt, and appreciated.

I have one remark to offer on the life, and another on the death of the
departed. On the life, and its attributed imperfections — that it must be
the maxim of the politician (and might not I add, of the moralist and
divine?) to take men as they are, and make the best of them. On the death,
with its painful and disappointing circumstances — that tragedy (as long
since observed by the great critic), above all other representations, is
adapted to purify the human soul. . The martyrs of every description are
the " chosen vessels" to communicate the riches of immortal truth, spirit,
and life.
Pray favor me with future communications, and believe me, Sir,
Your sincerely obliged, ¦ EDWIN JACOB.
Prof. Amasa McCoy, Ballston Spa, N. Y., U. S.
[From Hon. Robt. C. Winthrop.] Boston, 6 Dec, 1852.
My Dear Sir: Your obliging note of the 26th ultimo, was duly received.
I have read with great interest the Oration delivered by you on the death
of Mr. Webster. It is a most vigorous and eloquent production, and can
not fail to have been highly impressive in delivery.
************
For the greater part of tbe last five and twenty years, I have enjoyed
his intimate acquaintance and friendship, and nobody has a higher opinion
of his intellectual ability. The services which he has rendered his country
in time of need, have been in the highest degree important, and his printed
volumes are a treasury of wisdom and eloquence.
While therefore, I might differ from you in a few passages of your
Eulogy, I appreciate the justice and appropriateness of its general tone.
I venture to send you a copy of a speech of mine in the House of Repre
sentatives,' just before I succeeded Mr. Webster in the Senate, which will
give you my views on the question at issue, should you care to know them.
Pray send me your Address in pamphlet, if it is so published.
Thanking you once more, for your friendly attention, I remain, Dear
Sir, with great regard, Yours faithfully,
Amasa McCoy, Esq. ROBT. C. WINTHROP.
[From Hon. Rufus Choate.] Boston, Dec. 11th, 1852.
To Amasa McCoy, Prof, of Rhetoric.
Dear Sir : I had read a report of your Funeral Oration [on the death
of Daniel Webster] with great interest, before you were so kind as to put
me in possession of a corrected copy, and I have reperused that with height
ened interest and appreciation.
I hope it may not seem arrogant or indelicate to say so, but I regard your
discourse on the whole, the most adequate to the great subject which I have
read. Your limits, any limits, would not suffice for elaborating and consum
mating any important view on the grand aggregate of the conception you
had of him. But the outline is perfect, I think, and within your limits the
detail is just, vivid, and generous.
What a tribute of eloquent feeling he has attracted and deserved!
Multis — omnib us— -flebilis .
If you publish your discourse in pamphlet, I should be most happy to
know where I can obtain that also.
I am most truly, Your obedient servant, RUFUS CHOATE.
[From Mayor W. W. Seaton.]
Washington, 25th Dec, 1852.
My Dear Sir : I feel very sensibly the honor you have done me, in the
present, namely, of a copy of your admirable Oration on Mr. Webster.
I have read the Oration with pleasure and instruction ; and if we durst
venture to discriminate among the multitude of similar productions, from
the pulpit and chair, which have reached us, I should be glad to place yours,
or at least some portions of it, in the National Intelligencer. It would be
read with deep gratification by all of Mr. Webster's countrymen, and

especially by all who were honored with his friendship, and who enjoyed,
as I did for so many years, the privilege of familiar intercourse with_ him,
and thereby learned to appreciate fully his great and shining qualities of
head and heart.
I am, Sir, your obliged and very obedient servant,
To Prof. Amasa McCoy. W. W. SEATON.
[From Hon. Joseph Howe, Provincial Secretary of Nova Scotia.]
Halifax, Nova Scotia, July 12, 1853.
My Dear Sir : I have read with infinite gratification, your Funeral
Oration on Webster. To depict a great man truthfully, there must be ele
ments of greatness in the artist. Webster could not have pronounced a more
eloquent eulogium upon himself. ***•?**
Pray send me from time to time, any thing of yours that is printed.
Yours truly,
 JOSEPH HOWE.
[From Hon. Samuel Lawrence.] Boston, Jan. 17th, 1854.
My Dear Sir : Your very kind favor of yesterday is at hand, and I hasten
to reply ; thanking you for the Canadian notices of your lectures, and a copy
of Mr. Choate's note to you.
I fully agree with him in his estimate of your Oration on the whole. It is
the best I have seen, always excepting his own, at Hanover, last summer.
Should you ever come to this place, I beg of you to let me have the
pleasure of seeing you ; and remain most truly,
Your obedient servant.
Prof. Amasa McCoy, Ballston Spa, N. Y. SAM'L LAWRENCE.
[From Hon. William H. Seward.]
Washington, July 31, 1854.
Dear Sir : * • * * » * » » . »
I beg to thank you even so late as this, for your kindness in sending me a
copy of your Eulogium on Mr. Webster. I read it with unmingled admira
tion. It is indeed a performance of rare ability ; and while it is faultless in
execution, there is no error of opinion in it, which the occasion and the
circumstances do not fully excuse.
I am, Dear Sir, very respectfully, Your Obedient Servant,
Amasa McCoy, Ballston Spa, N. Y. WILLIAM H. SEWARD.
[From Fletcher Webster, Esq.] Boston, Aug. 3d, 1854.
Amasa McCoy, Esq., Dear Sir : I am very much your debtor for your
kind note of 30th July.
Your statement that it was his published writings that made you an
American and a Republican, is very grateful ; and is perhaps the highest
compliment that could be paid to him, or his memory, by any individual.
The fact I shall, with your leave, produce in the forth-coming volume ; and
perhaps, it will best appear by the publication of your note to me.
I§ remember the same remark to have been made by you in your most
eloquent and beautiful address.
I shall proceed with the work as rapidly as I can, "and hope to do no dis
credit to the subject. Renewing my thanks to you for your letter,
I am, my dear Sir, very truly yours,
FLETCHER WEBSTER.
[From Chief Justice Williams, of Connecticut.]
~ „ T , Hartford, May 28, 1856.
Dear biR : I beg you to excuse me for that, for which I cannot excuse
myself, and I will at this late hour return my cordial thanks for the copy of
your eloquent address on the death of Mr. Webster. I read it with great
pleasure, and think it worthy of the high encomiums it has received? It
came too at a time, when I was about uniting more permanently, many
pamphlets on that subject in a volume; among which I need not say voure
will occupy a prominent place. J J
I am very respectfully yours,
Amasa McCoy, Esq., Albany, N. Y. THOMAS S. WILLIAMS.

FUNERAL ORATION

ON THE DEATH OF

HON. DANIEL WEBSTER,

DELIVERED AT A COM51EMORATION IN THE

PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, BALLSTON SPA, N. Y.,

MONDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 8, 1852.

BY AMASA McCOY.

THIRD EDITION.

BOSTON :
C. C. P. MOODY, PRINTER, 52 WASHINGTON STREET.
1856.

PUBLISHER'S PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.

The undersigned, having issued a pamphlet edition of the follow
ing Oration, for private circulation by an eminent merchant of this
city, very frequent enquiries have heen made of him for extra copies.
These, together with the high commendation bestowed upon it by the
most eminent friends of Mr. Webster, have induced the publication
of this second edition. The New York Express, the first paper in
which the discourse was printed, accompanied the report with these
remarks : —
" We publish to-day a beautiful oration, delivered by Amasa McCoy, Esq., of Ball
ston Spa, N. Y., and for the past two years Professor of Rhetoric in the National Law
School. The style of the orator in the delivery was faultless, and so riveted was the
attention of the vast audience, that a pin might have been heard to fall in any part of
the edifice during the pronouncing of the eulogy. Professor McCoy is yet a young
man, and lie has but to pursue the path he has marked out, to acquire a world-wid*
renown as an eloquent public speaker." — New York Express.
It is an admirable oration It will be read with deep gratification by all of Mr.
Webster's countrymen. — Hon. W. W. Section, Ed. National Intelligence!:
A more sublime oration, a more splendid burst of eloquent eulogium, we never had
the pleasure of perusing —St. John (N. E.) Courier.
I have no hesitation in saying, that I consider it the most able I have seen on this
event, and well worthy the commendation bestowed upon it by the Express. His esti
mate of Webster's character and writings strikes me as being singularly felicitous — -
Rev. W. Ingraham Kip, D. &., of Albany.
I have read the oration with great interest. It is a most vigorous and eloquent pro
duction — Hon. Robert C. Winthrop.
After reading it amid incessant interruptions, I have laid it by for a leisure hour,
with the sure promise of a rich intellectual treat. Professor McCoy has entered deeply
into the great theme. — Hon. Edward Everett.
I have re-perused Prof. McCoy's Funeral Oration on Mr Webster with height
ened interest and appreciation. I regard this discourse, on the whole, as the most ade
quate to the great subject which I have read. — Hon. Rufus Choate.
Though these are but a part of the evidences of the favor with
which the Oration has been regarded by those most competent to pro
nounce upon its merits, they are surely more than enough to warrant
the publisher in believing, that in making it accessible to the public in
a better form than it has yet appeared, he is adding, in his way to
the numerous tributes to the illustrious deceased, and administering
to the gratification of his sorrowing countrymen. C. C. P. MOODT.
52 Washington Street, Boston.

DIRGE.

[As a part of the preliminary exercises, the following Dirge composed for
the occasion by the distinguished American poet, Alfred B. Street, Esq.,
of Albany, was sung by the Choir, in a very solemn and pathetic manner,
to the venerable tune of 'Old Hundred.']
A shade like night, is o'er us flung;
Our Eagle's wing in grief is hung;
Our brightest star the sky hath cross'd!
Its lordliest plume that wing hath lost.
But though the orb hath left our eyes,
It but glides on to future skies ;
And memory of the plume will bring
New strength to lift that spreading wing.
His stately form in death is laid ;
But his proud glory ne'er shall fade.
On Time's last wave, no brighter fame
Shall glow than that of WEBSTER'S name.

ORATION,

The tolling bells of twice ten thousand stee
ples, proclaim that we have met with no ordinary
loss. Populous and opulent cities, thousands of
miles from each other, celebrate these obsequies
with all that can engage the imagination, and
impress the heart. Even in a retired village,
which makes no pretensions to parade, and
where there is nothing of magnificence, save
the sombre pomp of nature herself, the citizens
of Ballston Spa, without distinction of party ;
the Board of Supervisors representing every
town in the County of Saratoga ; the members
of the Ballston Institute, coming from different
sections of the State ; the students of the Na
tional Law School, representing more than half
the States of the Union ; have assembled under
these sable hangings, to join in the sublime
lament which is now being sung by the nation.
These expressions of public sorrow, however

8
numerous and solemn, can be of no use, it is
true, to the dead. But they may justly admin
ister to the consolation of the living. To echo
words once uttered by those lips, which because
they are sealed in death, we are now convened :
" the tears which flow, and the honors that are
paid, when the founders of the Republic die,
give hope that the Republic itself will be im
mortal." Daniel Webster, Secretary of State in the
United States, died at his farm at Marshfield, on
the morning of the 24th of October. Ten days
ago, his mortal remains were laid away in his
family vault. At the time of his death he had
passed, some nine months, the limit assigned by
the Psalmist to mortal man. Yet had we never-
come to associate with him the idea of decay.
The whole of this long period was filled up with
busy and laborious days in the service of his
country. He was born, he lived, he died, in a
century and a country of Freedom. He first
saw the light amid her mountain home, and he
died where she lifts her radiant form to enjoy
the ocean breeze.
His death, since its occurrence, has engrossed
the, columns of the press ; it has put the marts

and the harbors of commerce in mourning ; it
has been solemnly noticed by the bar and the
bench in the Courts of Justice ; in the depart
ments of State ; and in the mansion of the Exe
cutive. And what bespeaks still more a public
sense of calamity, it even stopped, and that
within a week of the day of ballot, the whole
machinery of a National Election.
Meantime, while we have been witnessing
this first spontaneous outburst of sorrow, and
while more elaborate and sumptuous expressions
are but just beginning, these unwelcome tidings
have crossed the Atlantic, and deepened the
grief of a nation already, like ourselves, clothed
in the habiliments of mourning. The event by
this time has been noticed with honor in hun
dreds of English journals; it has afflicted the
members of the profession in the courts of West
minster ; it has been mentioned on the floors of
Parliament; it has penetrated the cloisters of
Oxford and Cambridge. And before the action
yet to be taken by the State Legislatures, the
Supreme Federal Judiciary, and the Houses of
Congress ; the intelligence, in the order of its
course, will have carried grief to the heart of
every lover of freedom in the nations of Europe ;

10
and where less will be expressed than felt, be
cause of the padlock on the lip of Liberty. So
that, after all that has been done, and all that
will be, that which will not be done, will re
dound most to the honor of the great American.
The public journals have certainly laid the
country under many obligations, by their incre
dible industry in collecting facts respecting this
extraordinary life. By so doing they have not
only contributed vastly to our edification, but I
submit that every fresh particular only increases
our respect for the character of the deceased.
The colossal proportions of his intellect had be
come a proverb ; but the impression I think is
now general, that great injustice has been done
to the qualities of his heart. The tongue of
scandal had been busy in bold affirmations res
pecting great frailties and infirmities. No re
flecting man ever doubted that much of this was
the invention of political rancor, and a curious
proneness there is to seek for weakness in the
great. Whatever of this is true, no one should
now seek to extenuate, out of regard to the
influence of example. The ancient maxim,
that nothing should be said of the dead but
what is favorable, the better ethics of our time

11
justly repudiate. History, when true to its
mission, is a dread tribunal ; and while it will
not allow the least injustice to the dead, it will
not be unmindful of its duty to the living. In
the mean time, it cannot be denied that many
persons whose minds had been abused, are taken
by surprise by the numerous and authentic evi
dence of the genial excellencies which gave
warmth and coloring to his character. The
nation had been so engrossed with the grandeur
of his public career, that few were prepared for
any such statement as that his greatness dilated
when he entered the social circle. And it is fit
in this temple of worship to invite those, if any
such there be, who have assumed to use his
name to give respectability to their own delin
quencies, to ponder now upon some other things.
Let them remember that vulgar infidelity never
polluted his lips. That nothing ever escaped
him in his public speeches, nothing in private
conversation, disrespectful to the truths of Christ
ianity. That he was a devout believer in
divine Revelation. That he studied the scrip
tures more than many whose high vocation it is
to expound them. That he was faithful in his
attendance upon the services of the sanctuary.

12
That the attributes of the Deity, as displayed
in his works, overflowed his capacious nature
with the enthusiasm of devotion.
And for my own part, I join with those who
say that none of his great deeds in life, give
them such ideas of moral grandeur, as the man
ner of his death. I see him shake the Capitol
in his wrath, when a violent hand is laid upon
the Constitution ; and yet it does not affect me
with such an elevated sense of human greatness,
as to mark the meek serenity with which he suf
fers the pangs of death, and abides the good plea
sure of his God. His implicit faith in the blood
of Christ, his parting blessings upon his family
and domestics, his unmurmuring resignation in
the last mortal agony, — tell me, ye who minis
ter at the altar, was not here enough to have
suggested to the Christian poet, all his sublime
conceptions of ' the chamber where the good man
meets his fate ?'
When Mark Anthony appeared before the
citizens of Rome, to pronounce his funeral
oration over the dead body of Caesar, his first
endeavor was to refute the principal accusation
of Caesar's enemies. A grave charge has been
preferred against the deceased whom we deplore

13
in connection with one of his last acts in the
Senate, and which it is not to be concealed, in
the minds of many, and of some before me,
rests at this moment as a cloud upon his
memory. The charge is now of over two years'
standing. What men have urged and insisted
upon again and again, becomes rooted and
grounded in their very nature. The matter in
question has become a part of that feeling,
hardly less inveterate than religious bigotry, the
spirit of party. How idle it would be to think
of removing it, I am well enough persuaded;
but that the subject would be referred to on such
an occasion might naturally be expected. I
deem it expedient to touch upon it in very brief
terms at this stage of my remarks.
Some persons go as far as this. The Com
promise Measures adopted by Congress in 1850,
tended to perpetuate a great evil. Evil should
not be done even to sustain the arch of the
Union. To such persons I would say, what I
may not now reason out, that there are nume
rous evils which are the natural consequences
of society. But to disband society would be a
greater evil. Whoever remains in society, then,
acts upon the principle of choosing the least of

14
evils. Society is held together only by mutual
compromise. The science of governing to a
great extent, is but the science of expedients.
The philosopher deals only in abstract truth, and
may always be consistent with himself. But
between the theories and the practical action of
legislators and rulers, there must sometimes be
a variance. Such extreme ground, however, is probably
occupied by no one present. You frankly admit,
if you could believe that the Compromise mea
sures were essential to the integrity of the
Union, you would no longer condemn those who
voted for them. But you hold that there was
no danger of any section seceding ; and I under
stand your chief ground of confidence is this :
that secession would have been contrary to
their own interests. I ask, is it an unheard-of
thing that men should act contrary to their own
interests ? especially men of pride and spirit,
and most especially when they believe, or even
imagine that any injustice is being done them ?
Were there not thousands of men, as intelligent
and as honest as yourselves, who did believe
some such compromise necessary ? And have
not multitudes who then condemned such legis-

15
lation, since avowed their approval ? Was not
the measure acquiesced in by hundreds of min
isters of religion, whose learning and piety
make them the objects of reverence ? Did a
majority of both houses of; Congress, did so
many of their number, of patriotism hitherto
above suspicion, walk in open day to the sham
bles of corruption, and traffic away the accu
mulated honor of life ? Did Millard Fillmore
do so ; did Henry Clay ; did Daniel Webster ?
When Nullification was coiling its fatal folds
around this body politic, entire fruit of the revo
lution, and just about to send to its extremities
the icy chill of death, you need not be told
whose mighty arm it was that slew the monster
as with a battle axe. ' If you have writ your
annals true, alone he did it.' This great cham
pion of public liberty, whose whole fame was
associated with its defence, and who saw that
many would now brand him as an apostate and
traitor — do you believe that he was condemned
also by his own conscience ? Have those who
have been so unsparing of censure, ever summed
up the penalty he paid for taking this step ?
Reproach, reproach, from how many quarters —
with what bitterness — and how long sustained !

16
And this from oldest friends, upon whom the
heart had learned to lean for support. The stab
of Brutus, you know, that was the unkindest
cut of all. If then, my friend and fellow-citi
zen, you cannot yet view this matter as I do,
but must still insist in your heart, that he was
guilty of a grievous fault, — at least, you will
not refuse to remember how grievously he hath
answered it. And while no powers of persua
sion can efface from your memory the single
evil you have contended he did, that American
heart within you, whose depths he has so often
stirred as with notes of battle and of victory, is
surely too just and magnanimous to insist upon
interring with his bones all that he ever did of
good. In common with the whole country, fellow-
citizens, you have frequently reviewed, since its
termination, Mr. Webster's great career. If it
had not occurred to you before, you must now
be impressed with the fact, that of the many
distinguished citizens of his day, few owed less
to fortuitous circumstances. Mr. Webster was
not a man whose fame grew up over night.
He owed his eminence to no accident, no com
promise of factions, no chance of battle, no

17
freak of fortune. None of his influence was
acquired by flattering the people, but only by
serving them. He more than once opposed a
farther introduction into the government of the
popular element; and in doing so, used the
whole weight of his influence and talent. He
not only repudiated the idea of a Democracy ; for
that is dreamed of by no one. But he evidently
had faith in nothing less than the representative
Republic, with all its checks and balances, as
framed by the fathers. He acquired none of his
distinction then, by introducing sweeping re
forms in government. Indeed I undertake to
say, that the most general characteristic of that
whole career which the country is now contem
plating with so much reverence, is that of the
great conservator. He borrowed no honor from
office, for his mere entry into it covered it with
lustre forever ; and whoever might be elevated
to the Presidency, Webster still continued the
most eminent citizen of the Republic. The
explanation of Mr. Webster's fame, consists
simply, in wonderful native endowments, dis
ciplined by the last severity of culture, and dis
played in professional and public service. To
eloquence, to law, to civil polity, he devoted

18
more study, than most public men to all united.
If Buffon, as he ^said, owed ten or twelve
volumes of his writings to his servant, who
forced him to rise at six, — it would be interest
ing, if it could be ascertained, to know what
proportion of Mr. Webster's greatness is ascrib-
able to his having risen at four.
The extinction of this great light afflicts no
class more sorely than that scattered brother
hood who make up the republic of letters. In
our part of that realm he was chief. No other
man in this country ever exercised in so large a
measure that sway over the human mind which
belongs to literature. His supremacy over men
was in proportion as they were educated. In
Boston he reigned in all the sovereignty of rea
son. Had this whole country been made up of
Bostons — he. would long since have been called,
by acclamation, to the Chief Magistracy of the
Union. More than any other American of his day,
more than any Englishman, Mr. Webster's style
was chaste, lucid, and perspicuous. Every sen
tence was a crystal. He scattered among the
people no ambiguous words. When Webster
had spoken, you might differ from him indeed ;

19
but you knew his meaning. Whatever he
touched, he not only adorned, but he shed over
it a perpetual light. Such was the literary
excellence of Mr. Webster's speech, that its
influence did not cease with its delivery. There
was always a charm over the printed report,
that attracted and captivated innumerable read
ers. There were men of his day, and Mr. Clay
was one of them, who exercised a more talis-
manic sway over their immediate hearers ; but
who spoke with such commanding eloquence to
the nation ? When it was known that Webster
was to speak, is it any exaggeration to say that the
Republic was one eager auditory ? Give me a
name if you can, for glory like this : never to
have risen, but millions hung upon his lips;
never to have sat down, but millions were
wiser men and better patriots. Webster's
printed speeches were re-read, and put carefully
away, and committed. How many of his sen
tences, laden with noble truth and glowing
patriotism, have become familiar as household
words ! Plutarch informs us that so thoroughly
were the priests instructed in the writings of
Numa, that the law-giver, assured that they
would be preserved in spirit and in letter,

20
ordered them to be burned with his body. Such
is the impression made upon the minds of his
countrymen, by the productions of Webster,
that had all written record of them been in
terred with his remains, every principle and pre
cept could be collected from the memory of living
men ; and all his great orations, I doubt not,
could be restored to print, word for word.
His sentiments are not only engraven on
the minds of his countrymen, but they blend
themselves with the surface of the country
itself. Spots which the blood of our fathers has
consecrated, this great master of eloquence has
made classic. ¦ Even Bunker Hill, of hallowed
memory, has borrowed additional interest and
renown from his transcendent powers of speech.
They have given birth indeed to the noblest
monument of that eventful day. Any country,
any people could have erected the granite obe
lisk. Of his contemporaries, who but the great
New England orator could have delivered such
discourses? It is not intimated that Bunker
Hill Monument is not everything that could
reasonably be asked. Lifting itself from that
memorable summit, "rising over the land, and
over the; sea, and visible at their homes, to three

21
hundred thousand citizens of Massachusetts," it
is indeed a stupendous structure. And yet it is
less imposing and majestic than the orations
pronounced there by Webster. "Towering
high above the column which our hands have
builded, beheld, not by a single city, or a single
state, ascends the colossal grandeur" of these
sublimer remembrancers.
The influence of Mr. Webster's speeches was
not limited to this country. In this connection,
permit one born under another government, and
among a people at that time prejudiced beyond
belief, to say that my own experience furnishes
me with data* which from the good fortune of
your birth, you would probably omit to take into
the account. Happening to fall in with these
great productions, I not only bowed in homage
to the talents of the author, but immediately
conceived respect, then admiration, and before
I got through, enthusiasm and reverence, for the
history, the great men, and the institutions of
America. I said to myself that in the wonder
ful attributes of this great orator, and the heroic
virtues of his countrymen whom he celebrates,
is more than realized, what in Berkley, a cen
tury and a -quarter ago, seemed an extravagant

22
flight, even tor poetry; that here should rise up,
and here should be sung,
"The good and great inspiring epic rage,
The wisest heads and noblest hearts."
Thus does it happen, that for the high privi
lege of American citizenship, for such a proud
distinction, and crowning felicity, I am indebted
to the sway of his living words, to whom in
death, from the fullness. of a swollen heart, I
now make this poor acknowledgment. Plato
thanked heaven that he was born in the same
age with Socrates. What a heart should I have,
if it did not overflow with gratitude, that I have
not only been thus far contemporary with the
deceased, have experienced the divine luxury
of his thought, and heard two orations from his
lips, but that I am now entitled against the
world, to claim a share in his immense renown.
' ' Praise enough
To rill th' ambition of a private man,
That Webster's language was his mother tongue,
And Clay's great name compatriot with his own."
I have spoken of my native Province as at
that time prejudiced beyond belief, against what
ever pertained to the neighboring Republic. I
rejoice to do it justice. Such was the respect
they had come to entertain for the citizen now

23
deceased, that when in one of its villages* the
announcement was made that he was dead, the
people gave expession to their feelings in a
salute of an hundred guns from English artillery.
Not only in the Hulsemann letter, at the
Plymouth dinner, and on the Greek question,
but on numerous other occasions, Mr. Webster's
resistless eloquence, defining the position, and
speaking the sentiment of the American Repub
lic, has fulmined over Europe,
" To Maeedon and Artaxerxes' throne."
Those who make it out so clearly to their
own satisfaction that he was guilty of such
astounding apostacy, let them not fail to notice
this. That his death breaks a spell of dread to
Absoluteism. Tyrants rejoice, that Webster
has fallen !
A full survey of the public life and services
of Mr. Webster, can be taken only by his bio
grapher. Let those who assume such an enume
ration, not omit to include the following. That
out of the treasury of his single intellect, he has
paid another installment on the debt of civili
zation, we owe the mother Empire. It consists
not alone in the light he has shed upon the sci-
* St. Stephens, New Brunswick.

24
ences of international law, and eivil polity.
Virgil considered himself cqvered with glory,
when he was called a pillar of the Latin tongue;
and English scholars, in the fine enthusiasm,
and high magnanimity of letters, will acknow
ledge with feelings of admiration and gratitude,
that even to that gorgeous temple, whose base,
and whose dome were the productions of a
Shakspeare, the doric contributions of the great
American orator, have given additional strength,
sublimity and grandeur.
Cicero thought Plato used such language as
Jupiter would, had he talked in the Greek The
English of Webster suggests the same notion of
majesty. And if Cicero had given us his idea
of the fabled deity in the act and attitude of
speaking, it is by no means certain that he
would have invested him with a more imposing
presence. Conceptions of this kind are fur
nished in poetry, which have been things of joy
to the scholars of many generations. But I
question whether votaries of letters most famil
iar with the heathen Jove of Homer, the Tro
jan leader of Virgil, the royal Dane of Shak
speare, and the primitive great sire of Milton,
ever had in their mind's eye, a figure which so

25
impressed the heart, as when they gazed upon
the solemn front, and eye sublime of our illus
trious countryman. Not only have European
masters in sculpture hung over his bust enam
oured, as a model beyond even their finest ideal ;
but persons of no culture whatever, equally
strangers to his fame, and to the enthusiasm of
poetry and art, have given involuntary utter
ance to the sentiment of the admiring Queen of
Carthage —
" Quern sese oreferens !"*
These outward indications of power, without
example in his own age, added immensely, as
might be supposed, to the grandeur of his spoken
eloquence. Of other orators, the audience made
his present speech the gauge of his intellect.
And I suppose it often happened that Mr. Web
ster did his utmost; but with that massive
amplitude of brow before you, and that vision
and faculty divine, it was impossible to believe
it. Bring forward what he might, you still said,
' the greatest is behind.' Make ever so great a
conquest, the spectators reported :
" Tet half his strength, he put not forth, but check'd
His thunder in mid-volley."
* " How great does he show himself in hia countenance !"

26
And when the historian, glorying in his theme,
shall have recounted to the men of another age,
the mighty feats of his genius, it needs must cap
the climax of their wonder to be told; that such
was his superb exterior, and so vast in promise,
that he left his contemporaries in doubt, had he
been called to meet a crisis so much greater, or
grapple with an adversary so much more formi
dable, whether he had it not in him, to have
achieved in one single triumph, what would
have eclipsed the sum of his others.
It would be very proper in the presence of
so much aspiration for professional honor, to
dwell at some length upon the character of the
deceased as a lawyer. And in adequate hands,
what more noble theme for discourse. But an
attempt at such an analysis of his mind, or such
summing up of his attainments by any one who
has not devoted to the law his 'twenty years of
vigils,' would amount in my esteem, to irreverent
presumption. Let us leave this part of the sub
ject then, after expressing only what is in the
mind of every educated man in the country.
His published arguments at the bar, have never
yet been spoken of as less than consummate
models of forensic discussion. And the propor-

27
tion of his admirers is not small, who insist that
this is the theatre where the prowess of his
mind achieved its greatest feats. As has been
said by an old man eloquent, a patriarch of col
lege presidents, respecting Hamilton: "he strode
through the cause with the club of Hercules,
and left nothing living in his path." If you
inquire who stands at the head of the profession
in any given city or State, different persons will
give you a different name; whereas not only
now in the generosity of funeral eulogium, but
any time during the last third of his life, and
that by universal acclaim, the first place at the
Bar of the American Union was accorded to
Webster. And when of all this assemblage there
remains not on earth the slightest vestige of
remembrance, posterity will marvel as we do
now, at this amazing triumph of intellect; to
have won the palm which cost Pinckney and
Wirt the sustained struggle of a life ; and yet at
the same time, in the higher path of statesman
ship, whieh they almost entirely avoided, to
have clomb to equal pre-eminence ; and in addi
tion to all this, and perhaps for the first time
in the history of America, to have given a
classic to the language.

28
A glance still briefer at Mr. Webster's
achievements in the field of diplomacy. They
contributed very greatly to extend his European
fame, and certainly rank among his highest
claims to the gratitude of his own country.
The announcement of his death will come home
with great additional effect to Americans who
are now travelling abroad ; for they have felt,
as they tell us, that his name ever surrounded
them as with a guard of protection and of honor.
His correspondence with the English Envoy in
1842, not only shed vast light upon the law of
nations, and affords a sublime illustration of the
compass and divinity of human reason; but
they cleared up many difficulties between the
United States and England, which at inter
vals for half a century, had threatened to
involve these countries in all the horrors of war.
They were settled by this great son of peace,
satisfactorily, and forever; without war, and
without dishonor. And it may be urged with
justice, that the papers which at that time ema
nated from the Secretary of State, contributed
greatly to inaugurate a new era in the inter
course of nations. They impressed upon the
general heart of the world, what Richelieu

29
utters in handing his weapon of war to his
page:
" Take away the sword —
¦ States can be saved without it !"
It has come to be a very frequent remark,
"What a pity our greatest men cannot be Presi
dent;" and surely there never has been more
occasion for regret than in the case of Webster.
What a superb piece of rhetoric would it have
been, what a feast, what a banquet of reason,
and with what a glow of patriotic pride would
every American have perused his inaugural
address. What annual messages would have
illustrated the policy, and enriched the litera
ture of the country. What dignity, what
strength, what splendor in his administration.
The Presidential chair would have borrowed
lustre from the talents and the fame of such an
incumbent. For the first time since the line of
Revolutionary Presidents, the highest office in
the nation would have been adorned with its
highest statesmanship. The Union, the Consti
tution, Peace, and every great interest of peace,
would have smiled secure under a ruler at once
so wise, so mild, so firm. There are many per
sons present, differing from him on questions of

30
public interest, who would not have voted for
him ; but there is no one in this audience, there
is no one in this Republic, who would not have
contemplated with proud emotion, institutions
which could first produce such a citizen, and
then give him his place according to the speci
fic gravity of nature.
Such would have been the general feeling at
home. While abroad, and among foreign pow
ers, as it was said of Washington, it is not pro
bable that any prince or potentate of his day,
would have commanded more respect and con
sideration. Throned emperors and kings would
have read in this grand embodiment, all the
elements that mould up our conception of a con
summate magistrate :
" And by these claim their greatness, not by blood."
It is usual to say on such occasions that the Pre
sidency could have added nothing to his fame.
Such a reflection may possibly be of some solace
to afflicted feeling, but it certainly will not stand
the test of logical analysis. Mr. Webster, it is
true, was a more eminent man than any Presi
dent of his day; indeed the Secretaries of State
for many years, form a more distinguished line
of Statesmen than the Presidents. Still the

31
highest post in the government would have
made even Webster's talents more conspicu
ous. "Pyramids are pyramids in vales." Doubt
less; yet however great the structure, it is
imposing in proportion to the elevation of its
site. Mr. Webster, nevertheless, amassed a repu
tation on so huge a scale, that any such regrets
on his account are almost unconscionable. Five
million votes, fifty million votes, could not have
done for him, what he did for himself. The
truth is, that regrets of this kind, and indeed
this whole aggregate of sorrow, spreading the
Commonwealth as with a pall, is not for the
dead, but for the living. And I, the humblest
of all my fellow-citizens, — lifted into notice but
for an hour by this sad occasion, and soon to
return as is my wont, to the pursuits of retire
ment — with no title to consideration, save as I
utter the words of truth — the least of all priests
in this vast service of the grave ; yet as such,
possessing the ear of the congregation assem
bled— I assume to summon the American com
munity into the forum of its own conscience. I
arraign it before the bar of the world. I anti
cipate the verdict of posterity. Ye who have
ears to hear, and hearts to understand, incline to

32
what I say, for I speak no idle words. Hearken
to the judgment of your children, and your chil
dren's children, to be affirmed by every succeed
ing age. And this it is: That in withholding
from one who partook so largely of the spirit,
and the wisdom, and the patriotism of Washing
ton, the highest power for good which the Con
stitution entrusts to a single citizen, — A duty
has not been performed. A work of patriotism has
not been completed.
Friends and fellow-citizens : If such thoughts
afflict us with compunctious visitings, and full
well I know they do, let us remember that they
are of use only as they beget resolutions for the
future. For the past, they are unavailing.
Daniel Webster, is no longer among the living.
The glory of the Forum, the chief of the Senate,
the mighty minister, great man of language,
" Farewell, a long farewell, to all thy greatness !"
That drama of vigorous heroism is closed. On
a stage, not darkened, but rather of heightened
splendor, the curtain has fallen. Not as the
ordinary great ; nor yet as Socrates, like a philo
sopher ; but with the sublimer exit of a Chris
tian, he has gone from our sight forever. Oh,
if this were not the solemn fact — if you had but

33
just awakened from sleep — if you were assured
that these impressions of death at Marshfield, of
the ensign of the Republic everywhere in crape,
of ten thousand men at a private funeral ; that
these were not reality, but only the dismal
fancies of a dream,- — that instead of being in his
grave, Daniel Webster was still at his post, as a
faithful sentinel on the watch-towers of Liberty
— if you could hear there in the darkness of the
night his veteran footstep — especially if you
should ask as was our wont in a moment of
fear, " Watchman, what of the night?" and your
ear should suddenly be greeted with those grand
old tones, so full, resonant and joyous — 'All's
well, all's well," — Oh ! how this whole auditory
would start to its; feet; and what a burst of
transport would shake this solid building to its
base! But alas, these tears we are shedding,
they are not the tears of joy, but of grief. And
what event but the death of Webster, could
have drawn from us sb many? Had each of us
lost his father, the stroke could hardly have
fallen with more subduing effect. Why, here
we touch the secret— -We have lost the second
Father of his Country. God in heaven, be thou
the father of an orphaned people !

34
When in July, two years ago, death removed
an incumbent of the Executive, so strong in the
confidence of his countrymen, you well remem
ber how bitter and how universal was the sense
of bereavement. It is no disparagement to say
that his great office was worthily supplied by
his immediate successor. What too often had
been only an ingenious stroke of flattery, might
have been quoted in this instance of accession,
with honesty and truth :
"Sol occubuit ; nox nulla seeula est." *
But now, ere yon moon had four times filled
her horn, we are called upon to suffer the double
eclipse of Clay and Webster. In lesser Hghts
indeed the horizon is not wanting. And such is
the tried prudence of the people themselves,
and such, if they avail themselves of it, the
reflected radience of luminaries no longer seen,
that I do not say they will stumble and fall.
But alas, alas ! how long may we have to await
the appearance again of two orbs of such mag
nitude and splendor, to fill our hearts with joy
and our country with glory !
I know indeed the last accents of his lips —
"I still live;" and I have marked with sensi-

* " The sun set; bul no night followed."

35
bihty the eagerness of the nation to extract
from them something to solace its smitten feel
ings. Already in the valley of the shadow of
death, it was in his mind only, that the soul had
not yet glided from the shore of its mortality.
In that solemn instant, it was farthest from him
possible to indulge the thought of the ancient,
" vivit enim, vivet que semper" Yet the bleeding
heart of the nation, so lonesome and desolate, is
surely warranted in cherishing such a sentiment.
All that was mortal of Daniel Webster, is indeed
dead. In the presence of a great cloud of wit
nesses, it was committed to the sacred soil of
the Pilgrims. But his words, his works, his
wisdom ; the influence of his example, patriotism
and deeds — these were not so interred. Heaven
vouchsafes to a few superior natures a life to
come, even in this world. There are those who
rule us from their urns. Yes,
" Thou art mighty yet '."
Thy spirit walks abroad."
Walk ever abroad, illustrious shade ! Thy
counsels and precepts are engraven on our
memory ; but oh, if in the economy of God, it
is allowed to exert a directer influence — if
patriots who die the death of the righteous are

36
ever permitted to revisit their earthly seats —
then ever venerated spirit, infuse into thy coun
trymen yet more of thy prudence, self-devotion
and wisdom !
The older editions of Mr. Webster's speeches*
have on the back of the volume, a gold leaf
figure of the Capitol at Washington. There is
a fitness in this device. Consider how com
pletely identified are his name and efforts with
that great palace of the laws. With the House
of Representatives, the Chamber of the Senate,
the Supreme Federal Judicatory, and with the
wing in course of erection, as orator at the lay
ing of its corner-stone. Then what an expan
sive spirit of patriotism pervades those volumes :
a school of rhetoric for the nation, instinct with
nationality. In this respect, indeed, they are
but the counterpart of his own feelings and
character. Party and sectional foes might
whisper suspicion with their lips ; they might
impugn his motives; they might wound his
honor; and yet — who but one of his country
men would credit it ; and who that is a coun
tryman disputes it? — it had come to be a piece
of the American heart to believe, that Webster
would see that the Republic suffered no harm.

37
That not only her interests, but her honor
and her fame would come out of the fiery
ordeal, as he himself would say, without the
smell of fire upon her garments. You have
all doubtless met the verses which represent a
captain's son on board of a ship in a terrific
tempest. Veteran sailors are in tears of des
pair, and marvelling at his calmness, they ask
the boy, "Are you not afraid?" The noble
little fellow, a very picture Of surprise, glancing
at the stern, asks his interrogators, " Is not my
father at the helm?" Such was the abiding faith
of the nation, in this more than Palinurus of the
State. Whatever might be the peril, how dark
soever the heavens,
" Though the strain'd mast should quiver as a reed,"
the people still asked, if you expressed alarm,
"Is not Webster at the helm?"
Such was the universal sense of his fidelity
and patriotism. Nor was it over estimated.
Love of country, and of the whole country, was
the ever present, and ever paramount passion of
his being; it penetrated, and pervaded, and
engrossed it. Applying the entire energies of
his robust, luminous, and comprehensive intel
lect, to the high ministries of its constitution,

38
it was the great mission of his life, to defend and
expound it, to illustrate and hallow. His first
entry into public life was in the service of the
whole Union ; and the summons of death found
him still in its harness. No sooner had his eye
fallen on her constitution, than he folded it to
his heart as the first love of his boyhood; and
the latest stroke of his pen, ere it must be laid
down forever, attests his loyalty and devotion.
And having indentified himself conspicuously
with every great interest at home, and more
than any citizen of his time, enhanced her repu
tation abroad; in age, as in manhood, and in
youth, still earlier than the sun in toiling for her
glory; having thus exhausted his strength, his
spirit, and his life, in the service of the country
at large ; he bequeathed at his death, to every
American citizen, to every several man, in one
massive and sumptuous assemblage, the rich
inheritance of his name, his works, his example
and renown.
I am afraid it is one of the solemn lessons
of history that unto all states, as to men, it is
appointed once to die. Certainly none now in
existence gives more vigorous promise than that
of England. And yet her eloquent historian

39
has permitted himself to anticipate a time when
some traveller from New Zealand shall, in the
midst of a vast solitude, take his stand on a bro
ken arch of London bridge, to sketch the ruins
of St. Paul's. It is the most earnest prayer of
every heart before me that the people may prove
themselves so intelligent, virtuous and prudent,
that the Capitol of the American Republic will
stand forever. This, my friends, at least is
sure ; that while that great temple of Freedom
does stand, it shall be as one vast Cenotaph to
Webster. And as a sight of that hallowed
dome, shall first recall to the beholder the mem
ory of Webster; so shall come first to his lip,
the epitaph now on the general heart of the
nation: Well done, good and faithful servant.