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 University of California. 
 
 FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 D R . F R A N C I S LIEBER, ' 
 
 Professor of History and Law in Columbia College, New York. 
 
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 MICHAEL REESE, 
 
 Of San Francisco. 
 
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 OBITUARY ADDRESSES 
 
 ©trasion of % §taf| 
 
 HON. DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 OF MASSACHUSETTS, 
 
 # 
 
 SECRETARY OF STATE FOR THE UNITED STATES 
 
 DELIVERED IN THE 
 
 >ntate ani in ilje fame at tyt$mttihtx\M 0f 
 Sfaitefc States, 
 
 FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH DECEMBER, 1852. 
 
 WASHINGTON: 
 
 PRINTED BY ROBERT ARMSTRONG. 
 
 1853. 
 

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 A^ 
 
 /<?Z/ 
 
 // 
 
fit % Btiwk of % fhtto States, 
 
 December 20, 1852. 
 
 On motion by Mr. G-win, 
 
 Resolved, That the Committee on Printing cause to be 
 published, and bound in pamphlet form, in such manner as 
 may seem to them appropriate, for the use of the Senate, ten 
 thousand copies of the addresses made by the Members of 
 the Senate and Members of the House of Representatives, 
 together with so much of the Message of the President of 
 the United States, at the commencement of the Session, as 
 relates to the Death of the Hon. Daniel Webster. 
 
 Attest, 
 
 ASBURY DlCKINS, 
 
 Secretary. 
 
eatjf of §n'ul ffl&thttt. 
 
 "Within a few weeks, the public mind has been deeply- 
 affected by the death of Daniel Webster, filling, at his 
 decease, the office of Secretary of State. His associates in 
 the Executive Government have sincerely sympathized with 
 his family, and the public generally, on this mournful occa- 
 sion. His commanding talents, his great political and pro- 
 fessional eminence, his well-tried patriotism, and his long 
 and faithful services in the most important public trusts, 
 have caused his death to be lamented throughout the country, 
 and have earned for him a lasting place in our history." 
 
 [Extract from the President's Message. 
 
©Mteg %)ktm&. 
 
 SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES, 
 
 Tuesday, December 14, 1852. 
 
 After various topics of the Message of the President had 
 been referred to the appropriate Committees, Mr. Davis 
 rose, and addressed the Senate as follows : 
 
 Mr. President : — I rise to bring to the notice of 
 the Senate an event which has touched the sensi- 
 bilities and awakened sympathies in all parts of the 
 country — an event which has appropriately found a 
 place in the message of the President, and ought 
 not to be passed in silence by the Senate. Sir, we 
 have, within a short space, mourned the death of a 
 succession of men illustrious by their services, their 
 talents, and worth. Not only have seats in this 
 Chamber, in the other House, and upon the bench 
 of the Court been vacated, but death has entered 
 the Executive Mansion and claimed that beloved 
 patriot who filled the Chair of State. 
 
6 
 
 The portals of the tomb had scarcely closed upon 
 the remains of a great and gifted member of this 
 House, before they are again opened to receive 
 another marked man of our day — one who stood 
 out with a singular prominence before his country- 
 men, challenging, by his extraordinary intellectual 
 power, the admiration of his fellow-men. 
 
 Daniel Webster, (a name familiar in the re- 
 motest cabin upon the frontier,) after mixing 
 actively with the councils of his country for forty 
 years, and having reached the limits of life assigned 
 to mortals, has descended to the mansions of the 
 dead, and the damp earth now rests upon his 
 manly form. 
 
 That magic voice which was wont to fill this 
 place with admiring listeners, is hushed in eternal 
 silence. The multitude will no longer bend in 
 breathless attention from the galleries to catch his 
 words, and to watch the speaking eloquence of 
 his countenance, animated by the fervor of his 
 mind; nor will the Senate again be instructed by 
 the outpourings of his profound intellect, matured 
 by long experience, and enriched by copious 
 streams from the fountains of knowledge. The 
 thread of life is cut ; the immortal is separated 
 from the mortal; and the products of a great and 
 cultivated mind are all that remain to us of the 
 jurist and legislator. 
 
Few men have attracted so large a share of 
 public attention, or maintained for so long a period 
 an equal degree of mental distinction. In this 
 and the other House there were rivals for fame, 
 and he grappled in debate with the master minds 
 of the day, and achieved in such manly con- 
 flict the imperishable renown connected with his 
 name. 
 
 Upon most of the questions which have been 
 agitated in Congress during his period of service, 
 his voice was heard. Few orators have equalled 
 him in a masterly power of condensation, or in 
 that clear logical arrangement of proofs and argu- 
 ments which secures the attention of the hearer, 
 and holds it with unabated interest. 
 
 These speeches have been preserved, and many 
 of them will be read as forensic models, and will 
 command admiration for their great display of intel- 
 lectual power and extensive research. This is not 
 a suitable occasion to discuss the merits of political 
 productions, or to compare them with the effusions 
 of great contemporaneous minds, or to speak of the 
 principles advocated. All this belongs to the fu- 
 ture, and history will assign each great name the 
 measure of its enduring fame. 
 
 Mr. Y^ebster was conspicuous not only among 
 the most illustrious men in the halls of legislation, 
 but his fame shone with undiminished lustre in the 
 
8 
 
 judicial tribunals as an advocate, where he parti- 
 cipated in many of the most important discussions. 
 On the bench were Marshall, Story, and their 
 brethren — men of patient research and compre- 
 hensive scope of intellect — who have left behind 
 them, in our judicial annals, proofs of greatness 
 which will secure profound veneration and respect 
 for their names. At the bar stood Pinckney, Wirt, 
 Emmett, and many others who adorned and gave 
 exalted character to the profession. Amid these 
 luminaries of the bar he discussed many of the 
 great questions raised in giving construction to 
 organic law; and no one shone with more intense 
 brightness, or brought into the conflict of mind 
 more learning, higher proofs of severe mental dis- 
 cipline, or more copious illustration. 
 
 Among such men, and in such honorable combat, 
 the foundations of that critical knowledge of consti- 
 tutional law, which afterward became a prominent 
 feature of his character, and entered largely into his 
 opinions as a legislator, were laid. 
 
 The arguments made at this forum displayed a 
 careful research into the history of the formation of 
 the Federal Union, and an acute analysis of the 
 fundamental provisions of the Constitution. 
 
 Probably no man has penetrated deeper into the 
 principles, or taken a more comprehensive and com- 
 plete view of the Union of the States, than that great 
 
 e. 
 
9 
 
 man, Chief Justice Marshall. No question was so 
 subtle as to elude his grasp, or so complex as to 
 defy his penetration. Even the great and the learned 
 esteemed it no condescension to listen to the teach- 
 ings of his voice ; and no one profited more by his 
 wisdom, or more venerated his character, than Mr. 
 Webster. 
 
 To stand among such men with marked distinc- 
 tion, as did Mr. Webster, is an association which 
 might satisfy any ambition, whatever might be its 
 aspirations. But there, among those illustrious men, 
 who have finished their labors and gone to their 
 final homes, he made his mark strong and deep, 
 which will be seen and traced by posterity. 
 
 But I need not dwell on that which is familiar to 
 all readers who feel an interest in such topics ; nor 
 need I notice the details of his private life — since 
 hundreds of pens have been employed in revealing 
 all the facts, and in describing, in the most vivid 
 manner, all the scenes which have been deemed 
 attractive ; nor need I reiterate the fervent language 
 of eulogy which has been poured out in all quarters 
 from the press, the pulpit, the bar, legislative bodies, 
 and public assemblies — since his own productions 
 constitute his best eulogy. 
 
 I could not, if I were to attempt it, add any thing 
 to the strength or beauty of the manifold evidences 
 which have been exhibited of the length, the 
 
m. 
 
 10 
 
 breadth, and height of his fame; nor is there any 
 occasion for such proofs in the Senate — the place 
 where his face was familiar, where many of his 
 greatest efforts were made, and where his intellec- 
 tual powers were appreciated. Here he was seen 
 and heard, and nowhere else will his claim to great 
 distinction be more cheerfully admitted. 
 
 But the places which have known him will know 
 him no more ! His form will never rise here again ; 
 his voice will not be heard, nor his expressive coun- 
 tenance seen. He is dead. In his last moments he 
 was surrounded by his family and friends at his own 
 home; and, while consoled by their presence, his 
 spirit took its flight to other regions. All that re- 
 mained has been committed to its kindred earth. 
 
 Divine Providence gives us illustrious men, but 
 they, like others, when their mission is ended, yield 
 to the inexorable law of our being. He who gives 
 also takes away, but never forsakes his faithful 
 children. 
 
 The places of those possessing uncommon gifts 
 are vacated, the sod rests upon the once manly 
 form, now as cold and lifeless as itself, and the 
 living are filled with gloom and desolation. But 
 the world rolls on ; Nature loses none of its charms ; 
 the sun rises with undiminished splendor ; the grass 
 loses none of its freshness; nor do the flowers 
 cease to fill the air with fragrance. Nature, un- 
 
11 
 
 touched by human woe, proclaims the immutable 
 law of Providence, that decay follows growth, and 
 that He who takes away never fails to give. 
 
 Sir, I propose the following resolutions, believing 
 that they will meet the cordial approbation of the 
 Senate : 
 
 Resolved, That the Senate has received with profound 
 sensibility the annunciation from the President of the death 
 of the late Secretary of State, Daniel Webster, who was 
 long a highly distinguished member of this body. 
 
 Resolved^ That the Senate will manifest its respect for 
 the memory of the deceased, and its sympathy with his be- 
 reaved family, by wearing the usual badge of mourning for 
 thirty days. 
 
 Resolved, That these proceedings be communicated to the 
 House of Representatives. 
 
 MR. BUTLER. 
 
 Mr. President: — This is an occasion full of 
 interesting but melancholy associations, and one 
 that especially appeals to my feelings and sense of 
 justice — I might almost say historical justice — as a 
 representative of South Carolina. Who, that were 
 present, can ever forget the mournful and imposing 
 occasion when Daniel Webster, whose eloquence 
 and ability had given distinction to the greatest de- 
 liberative assembly and the most august tribunal of 
 justice in this great confederacy; and when Henry 
 Clay — a name associated with all that is daring in 
 
12 
 
 action and splendid in eloquence — rose as witnesses 
 before the tribunal of history, and gave their testi- 
 mony as to the character and services of their illus- 
 trious compeer, John Caldwell Calhoun ? They 
 embalmed in historical immortality their rival, 
 associate, and comrade. 
 
 I would that I could borrow from the spirit of 
 my great countryman something of its justice and 
 magnanimity, that I might make some requital for 
 the distinguished tributes paid to his memory by his 
 illustrious compeers. Such an occasion as the one I 
 have referred to, is without parallel in the history 
 of this Senate; and, sir, I fear that there is no future 
 for such another one. Calhoun, Clay, and Webster 
 — like Pitt, Fox, and Burke — have made a picture 
 on our history that will be looked upon as its cul- 
 minating splendor. They were luminaries that, in 
 many points of view, essentially differed from each 
 other, as one star differeth from another ; but they 
 were all stars of the first magnitude. Distance can- 
 not destroy, nor can time diminish the simple splen- 
 dor of their light for the guidance and instruction 
 of an admiring posterity. 
 
 Kivals they were on a great and eventful theatre 
 of political life ; but death has given them a com- 
 mon fame. 
 
 Eadem arena, » 
 
 Communis virtus, atque perennis decus, 
 Victrix causa parem meritis et victa favorem 
 Vindicat, jcternum vivere fama dedit. 
 
13 
 
 Their contest in life was for the awards of public 
 opinion — the great lever in modern times by which 
 nations are to be moved. 
 
 "With more than mortal powers endow'd, 
 How high they soar'd above the crowd ! 
 Theirs was no common party race, 
 Jostling by dark intrigue for place : 
 Like fabled gods, their mighty war 
 Shook realms and nations in its jar !" 
 
 Before I became a member of the Senate, of 
 which I found Mr. Webster a distinguished orna- 
 ment, I had formed a very high estimate of his 
 abilities — and from various sources of high autho- 
 rity. His mind, remarkable for its large capacity, 
 was enriched with rare endowments — with the 
 knowledge of a statesman, the learning of a jurist, 
 and the attainments of a scholar. In this Cham- 
 ber, with unsurpassed ability, Mr. Webster has dis- 
 cussed the greatest subjects that have influenced, or 
 can influence, the destinies of this great confede- 
 racy. Well may I apply to him the striking re- 
 mark which he bestowed on Mr. Calhoun : " We 
 saw before us a senator of Rome, when Eome sur- 
 vived." 
 
 I have always regarded Mr. Webster as a noble 
 model of a parliamentary debater. His genial tem- 
 per, the courtesy and dignity of his deportment, his 
 profound knowledge of his subject, and his thorough 
 
14 
 
 preparation, not only gave him a great command 
 over his immediate audience, but gave his masterly 
 speeches an impressive influence upon public opinion. 
 
 In the Supreme Court, Mr. Webster was engaged 
 in the greatest cases that were ever decided by that 
 tribunal; and it is not saying too much to assert 
 that his arguments formed the basis of some of the 
 ablest judgments of that court. His exuberant but 
 rectified imagination, and brilliant literary attain- 
 ments, imparted to his eloquence beauty, simplicity, 
 and majesty, and the finish of taste and elaboration. 
 He seemed to prefer the more deliberative style of 
 speaking; but, when roused and assailed, he became 
 a formidable adversary in the war of debate, dis- 
 charging from his full quiver the arrows of sarcasm 
 and invective with telling effect. 
 
 Mr. Webster was born in a forest, and, in his 
 childhood and youth, lived amid the scenes of rural 
 life ; and it was no doubt under their inspiring in- 
 fluence that he imbibed that love of Nature which 
 has given such a charm and touching pathos to some 
 of his meditative productions. It always struck me 
 that he had something of Burns's nature, but con- 
 trolled by the discipline of a higher education. 
 Lifted above the ordinary level of mankind by his 
 genius and intelligence* Mr. Webster looked upon 
 a more extensive horizon than could be seen by 
 those below him. He had too much information, 
 from his large and varied intercourse with great 
 
15 
 
 men, and his acquaintance with the opinions of all 
 ages through the medium of books, to allow the 
 spirit of bigotry to have a place in his mind. I 
 have many reasons to conclude that he was not only 
 tolerant of the opinions of others, but was even 
 generous in his judgments toward them. I will con- 
 clude by saying that New England, especially, and 
 the confederacy at large, have cause to be proud of 
 the fame of such a man. 
 
 MR. CASS. 
 
 Mr. President : — How are the mighty fallen ! 
 was the pathetic lamentation when the leaders of 
 Israel were struck down in the midst of their ser- 
 vices and of their renown. Well may we repeat 
 that national wail, How are the mighty fallen! 
 when the impressive dispensations of Providence 
 have so recently carried mourning to the hearts of 
 the American people, by summoning from life to 
 death three of their eminent citizens, who, for almost 
 half a century, had taken part — and prominently, 
 too — in all the great questions, as well of peace as 
 of war, which agitated and divided their country. 
 Full, indeed, they were of days and of honors, for 
 
 "The hand of the reaper 
 Took the ears that were hoary/' 
 
 but never brighter in intellect, purer in patriotism, 
 nor more powerful in influence, than when the grave 
 
16 
 
 closed upon their labors, leaving their memory and 
 their career at once an incentive and an example 
 for their countrymen in that long course of trial — 
 but I trust of freedom and prosperity, also — which 
 is open before us. Often divided in life, but only by 
 honest convictions of duty, followed in a spirit of 
 generous emulation, and not of personal opposition, 
 they are now united in death, and we may appro- 
 priately adopt, upon this striking occasion, the beau- 
 tiful language addressed to the people of England 
 by one of her most gifted sons, when they were 
 called to mourn, as we are called now, a bereave- 
 ment which spread sorrow — dismay almost — through 
 the nation, and under circumstances of difficulty and 
 of danger far greater than any we can now reason- 
 ably anticipate in the progress of our history : 
 
 " Seek not for those a separate doom, 
 Whom fate made brothers in the tomb; 
 But search the land of living men: 
 Where shall we find their like again f 
 
 And to-day, in the consideration of the message 
 of the Chief Magistrate, it becomes us to respond to 
 his annunciation — commending itself, as it does, to 
 the universal sentiment of the country — of the death 
 of the last of these lamented statesmen, as a national 
 misfortune. This mark of respect and regret was 
 due alike to the memory of the dead and to the feel- 
 
17 
 
 ings of the living. And I have listened with deep 
 emotion to the eloquent testimonials to the mental 
 power, and worth, and services of the departed pa- 
 triot, which to-day have been heard in this high 
 place, and will be heard to-morrow, and commended, 
 too, by the American people. The voice of party is 
 hushed in the presence of such a national calamity, 
 and the grave closes upon the asperity of political 
 contests when it closes upon those who have taken 
 part in them. And well may we, who have so often 
 witnessed his labors and his triumphs — well may 
 we, here, upon this theatre of his services and his 
 renown, recalling the efforts of his mighty under- 
 standing, and the admiration which always followed 
 its exertion — well may we come with our tribute of 
 acknowledgment to his high and diversified powers, 
 and to the influence he exercised upon his auditory, 
 and, in fact, upon his country. He was, indeed, one 
 of those remarkable men who stand prominently 
 forward upon the canvas of history, impressing 
 their characteristics upon the age in which they 
 live, and almost making it their own by the force 
 of their genius and by the splendor of their fame. 
 The time which elapsed between the middle of the 
 eighteenth century and our own day was prolific of 
 great events and of distinguished men, who guided 
 or were guided by them, far beyond any other equal 
 period in the history of human society. But, in my 
 opinion, even this favored epoch has produced no 
 
18 
 
 man possessing a more massive and gigantic intel- 
 lect, or who exhibited more profound powers of in- 
 vestigation in the great department of political 
 science to which he devoted himself, in all its va- 
 rious ramifications, than Daniel Webster. 
 
 The structure of his mind seemed peculiarly 
 adapted to the work he was called upon to do, and 
 he did it as no other man of his country — of his age, 
 indeed — could have done it. And his name and his 
 fame are indissolubly connected with some of the 
 most difficult and important questions which our pe- 
 culiar institutions have called into discussion. It 
 was my good fortune to hear him upon one of the 
 most memorable of these occasions, when, in this 
 very hall, filled to overflowing with an audience 
 whose rapt attention indicated his power and their 
 expectations, he entered into an analysis of the Con- 
 stitution, and of the great principles of our political 
 organization, with a vigor of argument, a force of 
 illustration, and a felicity of diction, which have 
 rendered this effort of his mind one of the proudest 
 monuments of American genius, and one of the no- 
 blest expositions which the operations of our govern- 
 ment have called forth. I speak of its general effect, 
 without concurring in all the views he presented, 
 though the points of difference neither impair my 
 estimate of the speaker nor of the power he dis- 
 played in this elaborate debate. 
 
 The judgment of his contemporaries upon the cha- 
 
19 
 
 racter of his eloquence will be confirmed by the fu- 
 ture historian. He grasped the questions involved 
 in the subject before him with a rare union of force 
 and discrimination, and he presented them in an 
 order of arrangement, marked at once with great 
 perspicuity and with logical acuteness, so that, when 
 he arrived at his conclusion, he seemed to reach it 
 by a process of established propositions, interwoven 
 with the hand of a master; and topics, barren of 
 attraction, from their nature, were rendered inte- 
 resting by illustrations and allusions, drawn from a 
 vast storehouse of knowledge, and applied with a 
 chastened taste, formed upon the best models of an- 
 cient and of modern learning; and to these eminent 
 qualifications was added an uninterrupted flow of 
 rich and often racy old-fashioned English, worthy of 
 the earlier masters of the language, whom he studied 
 and admired. 
 
 As a statesman and politician his power was felt 
 and acknowledged through the republic, and all bore 
 willing testimony to his enlarged views, and to his 
 ardent patriotism. And he acquired a European 
 reputation by the state-papers he prepared upon 
 various questions of our foreign policy ; and one of 
 these — his refutation and exposure of an absurd and 
 arrogant pretension of Austria — is distinguished by 
 lofty and generous sentiments, becoming the age in 
 which he lived, and the great people in whose name 
 he spoke, and is stamped with a vigor and research 
 
20 
 
 not less honorable in the exhibition than conclusive 
 in the application ; and it will ever take rank in the 
 history of diplomatic intercourse among the richest 
 contributions to the commentaries upon the public 
 law of the world. And in internal as in external 
 troubles he was true, and tried, and faithful; and in 
 the latest, may it be the last, as it was the most 
 perilous, crisis of our country, rejecting all sectional 
 considerations,* and exposing himself to sectional de- 
 nunciation, he stood up boldly, proudly, indeed, and 
 with consummate ability, for the constitutional 
 rights of another portion of the Union, fiercely as- 
 sailed by a spirit of aggression, as incompatible with 
 our mutual obligations as with the duration of the 
 confederation itself. In that dark and doubtful 
 hour, his voice was heard above the storm, recalling 
 his countrymen to a sense of their dangers and 
 their duties, and tempering the lessons of reproof 
 with the experience of age and the dictates of pa- 
 triotism. 
 
 He who heard his memorable appeal to the public 
 reason and conscience, made in this crowded Cham- 
 ber, with all eyes fixed upon the speaker, and 
 almost all hearts swayed by his words of wisdom 
 and of power, will sedulously guard its recollections 
 as one of those precious incidents which, while they 
 constitute the poetry of history, exert a permanent 
 and decisive influence upon the destiny of nations. 
 
 And our deceased colleague added the kindlier 
 
21 
 
 affections of the heart to the lofty endowments of 
 the mind; and I recall, with almo*st painful sensi- 
 bility, the associations of our boyhood, when we 
 were school-fellows together, with all the troubles 
 and the pleasures which belong to that relation of 
 life, in its narrow world of preparation. He ren- 
 dered himself dear by his disposition and deport- 
 ment, and exhibited some of those peculiar charac- 
 teristic features, which, later in life, made him the 
 ornament of the social circle ; and, when study and 
 knowledge of the world had ripened his faculties, 
 endowed him with powers of conversation I have 
 not found surpassed in my intercourse with society, 
 at home or abroad. His conduct and bearing at 
 that early period have left an enduring impression 
 upon my memory of mental traits, which his subse- 
 quent course in life developed and confirmed. And 
 the commanding position and ascendency of the man 
 were foreshadowed by the standing and influence of 
 the boy among the comrades who surrounded him. 
 Fifty-five years ago we parted — he to prepare for his 
 splendid career in the good old land of our ances- 
 tors, and I to encounter the rough toils and trials of 
 life in the great forest of the West. But, ere long, 
 the report of his words and his deeds penetrated 
 those recesses, where human industry was painfully, 
 but successfully, contending with the obstacles of 
 Nature, and I found that my early companion was 
 assuming a position which confirmed my previous 
 
22 
 
 anticipations, and which could only be attained by 
 the rare faculties with which he was gifted. Since 
 then he has gone on irradiating his path with the 
 splendor of his exertions, till the whole hemisphere 
 was bright with his glory, and never brighter than 
 when he went down in the West, without a cloud to 
 obscure his lustre, calm, clear, and glorious. Fortu- 
 nate in life he was not less fortunate in death, for he 
 died with his fame undiminished, his faculties un- 
 broken, and his usefulness unimpaired ; surrounded 
 by weeping friends, and regarded with anxious solici- 
 tude by a grateful country, to whom the messenger 
 that mocks at time and space told, from hour to hour, 
 the progress of his disorder, and the approach of his 
 fate. And beyond all this, he died in the faith of a 
 Christian, humble, but hopeful, adding another to the 
 roll of eminent men who have searched the Gospel of 
 Jesus, and have found it the word and the will of God, 
 given to direct us while here, and to sustain us in that 
 hour of trial, when the things of this world are passing 
 away, and the dark valley of the shadow of death 
 is opening before us. 
 
 How are the mighty fallen! we may yet ex- 
 claim, when reft of our greatest and wisest; but 
 they fall to rise again from death to life, when such 
 quickening faith in the mercy of God and in the 
 sacrifice of the Redeemer comes to shed upon them 
 its happy influence, on this side of the grave and 
 beyond it. 
 
23 
 
 MR. SEWARD. 
 
 When, in passing through Savoy, I reached the 
 eminence where the traveller is promised his first 
 distinct view of Mont Blanc, I asked, "Where is 
 the mountain?" "There," said the guide, pointing 
 to the rainy sky which stretched out before me. It 
 is even so when we approach and attempt to scan 
 accurately a great character. Clouds gather upon 
 it, and seem to take it up out of our sight. 
 
 Daniel Webster was a man of warm and earnest 
 affections in all the domestic and social relations. 
 Purely incidental and natural allusions in his con- 
 versations, letters, and speeches, have made us fami- 
 liar with the very pathways about his early moun- 
 tain home ; with his mother, graceful, intellectual, 
 fond, and pious ; with his father, assiduous, patriotic, 
 and religious, changing his pursuits, as duty in revo- 
 lutionary times commanded, from the farm to the 
 camp, and from the camp to the provincial legisla- 
 ture and the constituent assembly. It seems as if 
 we could recognise the very form and features of 
 the most constant and generous of brothers. Nor 
 are we strangers at Marshfield. We are guests hos- 
 pitably admitted, and then left to wander at our 
 ease under the evergreens on the lawn, over the 
 grassy fields, through the dark, native forest, and 
 along the resounding sea-shore. We know, almost 
 as well as we know our own, the children reared 
 
24 
 
 there, and fondly loved, and therefore, perhaps, early 
 lost; the servants bought from bondage, and held 
 by the stronger chains of gratitude ; the careful 
 steward, always active, yet never hurried; the re- 
 verent neighbor, always welcome, yet never obtru- 
 sive ; and the ancient fisherman, whose little fleet is 
 ever ready for the sports of the sea ; and we meet 
 on every side the watchful and devoted friends 
 whom no frequency of disappointment can discou- 
 rage, and whom even the death of their great patron 
 cannot all at once disengage from efforts which 
 know no balancing of probabilities nor reckoning of 
 cost to secure his elevation to the first honors of the 
 republic. 
 
 Who that was even confessedly provincial was 
 ever so identified with any thing local as Daniel 
 Webster was with the spindles of Lowell, and the 
 quarries of Quincy ; with Faneuil Hall, Bunker Hill, 
 Forefathers' Day, Plymouth Rock, and whatever 
 also belonged to Massachusetts? And yet, who 
 that was most truly national has ever so sublimely 
 celebrated, or so touchingly commended to our re- 
 verent affection our broad and ever-broadening con- 
 tinental home; its endless rivers, majestic moun- 
 tains, and capacious lakes ; its inimitable and inde- 
 scribable constitution; its cherished and growing 
 capital ; its aptly conceived and expressive flag, and 
 its triumphs by land and sea; and its immortal 
 
25 
 
 founders, heroes, and martyrs ! How manifest it 
 was, too, that, unlike those who are impatient of 
 slow but sure progress, he loved his country, not 
 for something greater or higher than he desired or 
 hoped she might be, but just for what she was, and 
 as she was already, regardless of future change. 
 
 No, sir ; believe me, they err widely who say that 
 Daniel Webster was cold and passionless. It is 
 true that he had little enthusiasm; but he was, 
 nevertheless, earnest and sincere, as well as calm; 
 and, therefore, he was both discriminating and com- 
 prehensive in his affections. We recognise his like- 
 ness in the portrait drawn by a Koman pencil : 
 
 u who with nice discernment knows 
 
 "What to his country and his friends he owes; 
 How various Nature warms the human breast, 
 To love the parent, brother, friend, or guest, 
 What the great offices of judges are, 
 Of senators, of generals sent to war." 
 
 Daniel Webster was cheerful, and on becoming 
 occasions joyous, and even mirthful; but he was 
 habitually engaged in profound studies on great 
 affairs. He was, moreover, constitutionally fearful 
 of the dangers of popular passion and prejudice; 
 and so, in public walk, conversation, and debate, he 
 was grave and serious, even to solemnity; yet he 
 never desponded in the darkest hours of personal or 
 
26 
 
 political trial; and melancholy never, in health nor 
 even in sickness, spread a pall over his spirits. 
 
 It must have been very early that he acquired 
 that just estimate of his own powers which was the 
 basis of a self-reliance which all the world saw and 
 approved, and which, while it betrayed no feature 
 of vanity, none but a superficial observer could have 
 mistaken for pride or arrogance. 
 
 Daniel Webster was no sophist. With a talent 
 for didactic instruction which might have excused 
 dogmatism, he never lectured on the questions of 
 morals that are agitated in the schools. But he 
 seemed, nevertheless, to have acquired a philosophy 
 of his own, and to have made it the rule and guide 
 of his life. That philosophy consisted in improving 
 his powers and his tastes, so that he might appre- 
 ciate whatever was good and beautiful in nature 
 and art, and attain to whatever was excellent in 
 conduct. He had accurate perceptions of the quali- 
 ties and relations of things. He overvalued nothing 
 that was common, and undervalued nothing that 
 was useful, or even ornamental. His lands, his 
 cattle, and equipage, his dwelling, library, and ap- 
 parel, his letters, arguments, and orations — every 
 thing that he had, every thing that he made, and 
 every thing that he did — was, as far as possible, 
 fit, complete, perfect. He thought decorous forms 
 necessary for preserving whatever was substantial 
 
27 
 
 or valuable in politics and morals, and even in reli- 
 gion. In his regard, order was the first law, and 
 peace the chief blessing of earth, as they are of 
 Heaven. Therefore, while he desired justice and 
 loved liberty, he reverenced law as the first divinity 
 of states and of society. 
 
 Daniel Webster was, indeed, ambitious ; but his 
 ambition was generally subordinate to conventional 
 forms, and always to the Constitution. He aspired 
 to place and preferment, but not for the mere 
 exercise of political power, and still less for plea- 
 surable indulgences ; and only for occasions to save 
 or serve his country, and for the fame which such 
 noble actions might bring. Who will censure such 
 ambition? Who had greater genius subjected to 
 severer discipline? What other motives than those 
 of ambition could have brought that genius into 
 activity under that discipline, and sustained that 
 activity so equally under ever-changing circum- 
 stances so long? His ambition never fell off into 
 presumption. He was, on the contrary, content 
 with performing all practical duties, even in com- 
 mon affairs, in the best possible manner; and he 
 never chafed under petty restraints from those 
 above, nor malicious annoyances from those around 
 him. If ever any man had intellectual superiority 
 which could have excused a want of deference due 
 to human authority, or skepticism concerning that 
 
28 
 
 which was divine, he was such a one. Yet he was, 
 nevertheless, unassuming and courteous, here and 
 elsewhere, in the public councils ; and there was, I 
 think, never a time in his life when he was not an 
 unquestioning believer in that religion which offers 
 to the meek the inheritance of the heavenly 
 kingdom. 
 
 Daniel Webster's mind was not subtle, but it 
 was clear. It was surpassingly logical in the ex- 
 ercise of induction, and equally vigorous and ener- 
 getic in all its movements ; and yet he possessed an 
 imagination so strong that if it had been combined 
 with even a moderated enthusiasm of temper, 
 would have overturned the excellent balance of 
 his powers. 
 
 The civilian rises in this, as in other republics, 
 by the practice of eloquence ; and so Daniel Web- 
 ster became an orator — the first of orators. 
 
 Whatever else concerning him has been contro- 
 verted by anybody, the fifty thousand lawyers of 
 the United States, interested to deny his preten- 
 sions, conceded to him an unapproachable supre- 
 macy at the bar. How did he win that high place? 
 Where others studied laboriously, he meditated in- 
 tensely. Where others appealed to the prejudices 
 and passions of courts and juries, he addressed only 
 their understandings. Where others lost them- 
 selves among the streams, he ascended to the foun- 
 
29 
 
 tain. While they sought the rules of law among 
 conflicting precedents, he found them in the eternal 
 principles of reason and justice. 
 (jBut it is conceding too much to the legal pro- 
 fession to call Daniel Webster a lawyer. Law- 
 yers speak for clients and their interests — he 
 seemed always to be speaking for his country and 
 for truth. )So he rose imperceptibly above his pro- 
 fession; and while yet in the Forum, he stood 
 before the world a Publicist. In this felicity, he 
 resembled, while he surpassed, Erskine, who taught 
 the courts at Westminster the law of moral re- 
 sponsibility; and he approached Hamilton, who 
 educated the courts at Washington in the Con- 
 stitution of their country and the philosophy of 
 government. 
 
 An undistinguishable line divides this high pro- 
 vince of the Forum from the Senate, to which his 
 philosophy and eloquence were perfectly adapted. 
 Here, in times of stormy agitation and bewilder- 
 ing excitement, when as yet the Union of these 
 States seemed not to have been cemented and con- 
 solidated, and its dissolution seemed to hang, if not 
 on the immediate result of the debate, at least upon 
 the popular passion that that result must generate, 
 Daniel Webster put forth his mightiest efforts — 
 confessedly the greatest ever put forth here or on 
 this continent. Those efforts produced marked 
 
-» 
 
 30 
 
 £& 
 
 effect on the Senate ; they soothed the public mind, 
 and became enduring lessons of instruction to our 
 countrymen on the science of constitutional law, 
 and the relative powers and responsibilities of the 
 government, and the rights and duties of the States 
 and of citizens. 
 
 Tried by ancient definitions, Daniel Webster 
 was not an orator. He studied no art and prac- 
 tised no action. Nor did he form himself by 
 any admitted model. He had neither the di- 
 rectness and vehemence of Demosthenes, nor the 
 fulness nor flow of Cicero, nor the intenseness of 
 Milton, nor the magnificence of Burke. It was 
 happy for him that he had not. The temper and 
 tastes of his age and country required eloquence 
 different from all these, and they found it in 
 the pure logic and the vigorous yet massive 
 rhetoric which constituted the style of Daniel 
 Webster. 
 
 Daniel Webster, although a statesman, did not 
 aim to be either a popular or a parliamentary 
 leader. He left common affairs and questions to 
 others, and reserved himself for those great and 
 infrequent occasions which seemed to involve the 
 prosperity or the continuance of the republic. 
 On these occasions he rose above partisan influences 
 and alliances, and gave his counsels earnestly, and 
 with impassioned solemnity, and always with an 
 
31 
 
 unaffected reliance upon the intelligence and virtue 
 of his countrymen. 
 
 The first revolutionary assembly that convened 
 in Boston promulgated the principle of the revolu- 
 tion of 1688 — " Resistance to unjust laws is obe- 
 dience to God ;" and it became the watchword 
 throughout the colonies. Under that motto the 
 colonies dismembered the British Empire, and 
 erected the American Republic. At an early day, 
 it seemed to Daniel Webster that the habitual 
 cherishing of that principle, after its great work 
 had been consummated, threatened to subvert, in 
 its turn, the free and beneficent Constitution, which 
 afforded the highest attainable security against the 
 passage of unjust laws. He addressed himself 
 therefore assiduously, and almost alone, to what 
 seemed to him the duty of calling the American 
 people back from revolutionary theories to the 
 formation of habits of peace, order, and submission 
 to authority. He inculcated the duty of submis- 
 sion by States and citizens to all laws passed within 
 the province of constitutional authority, and of abso- 
 lute reliance on constitutional remedies for the cor- 
 rection of all errors and the redress of all injustice. 
 This was the political gospel of Daniel Webster. 
 He preached it in season and out of season, boldly, 
 constantly, with the zeal of an apostle, and with 
 the devotion, if there were need, of a martyr. It 
 
32 
 
 was full of saving influences while he lived, and 
 those influences will last so long as the Constitution 
 and the Union shall endure. 
 
 I do not dwell on Daniel Webster's exercise 
 of administrative functions. It was marked by the 
 same ability that distinguished all his achievements 
 in other fields of duty. It was at the same time 
 eminently conservative of peace, and of the great 
 principles of constitutional liberty, on which the 
 republican institutions of his country were founded. 
 But while those administrative services benefited 
 his country, and increased his fame, we all felt, 
 nevertheless, that his proper and highest place was 
 here, where there was field and scope for his philo- 
 sophy and his eloquence — here, among the equal 
 representatives of equal States, which were at once 
 to be held together, and to be moved on in the esta- 
 blishment of a continental power controlling all the 
 American States, and balancing those of the Eastern 
 world ; and we could not but exclaim, in the words 
 of the Koman orator, when we saw him leave 
 the legislative councils to enter on the office of 
 administration — 
 
 Quantis in angustiis, vestra gloria se dilitari velit. 
 
 MR. STOCKTON. 
 
 Mr. President : — I was prevented from coming 
 to Washington until this morning. After travelling 
 
33 
 
 all night, I hastened here to take my seat, wholly 
 unapprized of the intention of the senator from 
 Massachusetts to introduce the resolutions now be- 
 fore the Senate. 
 
 It would, therefore, not become me, nor the so- 
 lemnity of the occasion, to mingle, unprepared as I 
 needs must be, my voice in the eloquent lamenta- 
 tion which does honor to the Senate, for any other 
 purpose than merely briefly to express my grief — 
 my sorrow — my heartfelt, unaffected sorrow — for 
 the death of Daniel Webster* 
 
 Senators, I have known and loved Daniel Web- 
 ster for thirty years. What wonder, then, I sor- 
 row? But now that I am on my feet for that pur- 
 pose — and the Senate, who knew and loved him 
 too, are my listeners — how am I to express that 
 sorrow ? I cannot do it. It cannot be done. Oh ! 
 sir, all words, in moments such as these, when love 
 or grief seek utterance, are vain and frigid. 
 
 Senators, I can even now hardly realize the event 
 — that Daniel Webster is dead — that he does not 
 "still live!' 
 
 I did hope that God — who has watched over this 
 republic — who can do all things — "who hung the 
 Earth on nothing" — who so endowed the mind 
 of Daniel Webster — would still longer have up- 
 held its frail tenement, and kept him as an ex- 
 ample to our own men, and to the men of the whole 
 world. 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 Indeed, it is no figure of speech, when we say that 
 Ms fame was " world-wide." 
 
 But, senators, I have risen to pronounce no eulogy 
 on him. I am up for no such vain purpose. I come 
 with no ceremony. I come to the portals of his 
 grave, stricken with sadness — before the assembled 
 Senate — in the presence of friends and senators — 
 (for whether they be of this side of the Chamber or 
 the other side of the Chamber, I hope I am entitled 
 to call every senator my friend) — to mingle my grief 
 with the grief of those around me. But I cherish 
 no hope of adding one gravel-stone to the colossal 
 column he has erected for himself. I would only 
 place a garland of friendship on the bier of one of 
 the greatest and best men I ever knew. 
 
 Senators, you have known Mr. Webster in his 
 public character — as a statesman of almost intuitive 
 perceptions — as a lawyer of unsurpassed learning 
 and ability — as a ripe and general scholar. But it 
 was my happiness to know him, also, as a man in 
 the seclusion of private life; and in the performance 
 of sacred domestic duties, and of those of reciprocal 
 friendship, I say, in this presence, and as far as my 
 voice may reach, that he was remarkable for all 
 those attributes which constitute a generous, mag- 
 nanimous, courageous, hospitable, and high-minded 
 man. Sir, as far as my researches into the history 
 of the world have gone, they have failed to discover 
 his superior. Not even on the records of ancient 
 
35 
 
 Greece, or Home, or of any otfier nation, are to be 
 found the traces of a man of superior endowments to 
 our own Webster. 
 
 Mr. President, in private life lie was a man of 
 pure and noble sentiments, and eminently kind, so- 
 cial, and agreeable. He was generous to a fault. 
 Sir, one act of his, one speech of his, made in this 
 Chamber — placed him before all men of antiquity. 
 He offered himself — yes, you all remember, in that 
 seat tlwre, he rose and offered himself a living sacri- 
 fice for his country. And Lord Bacon has said, that 
 he who offers himself as a sacrifice for his country, 
 is a sight for angels to look upon. 
 
 Mr. President, my feelings on this occasion will 
 not surprise senators, who remember that these are 
 no new sentiments for me — that when he was liv- 
 ing, I had the temerity to say that Daniel Webster 
 was the greatest among men, and a true patriot — 
 ay, sir ! when the expression of such opinions 
 might have interfered with political aspirations im- 
 puted to me. Well, sir, if an empire had then been 
 hanging on my words, I would not have amended 
 or altered one sentiment. 
 
 Having said thus much for the dead, allow me to 
 express a word of thanks to the honorable senator 
 from Michigan, (Mr. Cass.) Sir, I have often had 
 occasion to feel sentiments of regard, and, if he will 
 permit me to say it, of affectionate regard for him, 
 and sometimes to express them ; but the emotions 
 
36 
 
 created in my heart By his address this morning are 
 not easily expressed. I thank him — in the fulness 
 of my heart I thank him ; and may God spare him 
 to our country many years. May he long remain 
 here, in our midst, as he is at this day, in all the 
 strength of manhood, and in all the glory of matured 
 wisdom. 
 
 ■<% 
 
37 
 
 HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, 
 
 Wednesday, December 15, 1852. 
 
 The Journal having been read, 
 
 A message was received from the Senate by the hands 
 of Asbury Dickins, Esq., its Secretary, which, upon re- 
 quest of Mr. Davis, of Massachusetts, was read, as follows : 
 
 Resolved, That the Senate has received with profound 
 sensibility the annunciation from the President of the death 
 of the late Secretary of State, Daniel Webster, who was 
 long a highly distinguished member of this body. 
 
 Resolved, That the Senate will manifest its respect for 
 the memory of the deceased, and its sympathy with his 
 bereaved family, by wearing the usual badge of mourning 
 for thirty days. 
 
 Resolved, That these proceedings be communicated to the 
 House of Representatives. 
 
 MR. DAVIS. 
 
 Mr. Speaker : — I rise for the purpose of pro- 
 posing some action of this House in response to that 
 which, we learn, has taken place in the Senate in 
 reference to the death of Mr. Webster ; and I have 
 little to add to the proposition itself beyond a brief 
 expression of reverence and of affectionate recollec- 
 
m 
 
 38 
 
 tion. At this seat of government, where thirty 
 years of Mr. Webster's life were spent — in this Capi- 
 tol, still populous with the echoes of his voice — to 
 this House, of which there is not an individual 
 member but can trace something of his intellectual 
 wealth, or political faith, to the fountain of that 
 mighty intellect — it would be useless, and worse, to 
 pass in review the various acts of spoken and writ- 
 ten thought by which he impressed himself inefiace- 
 ably upon his time. Master of the great original 
 ideas of which our social institutions are but the 
 coarse material expression ; master of a style which 
 clothed each glorious thought in a garb of appro- 
 priate beauty; possessed of a conquering nature, 
 that, "like the west wind, brought the sunshine 
 with it," and gave us, wherever he was, the sense of 
 security and power, he has run his appointed race, 
 and has left us to feel that our day of life will 
 henceforth be more wintry now that that light has 
 been withdrawn. 
 
 " But he was ours. And may that word of pride 
 Drown, with its lofty tone, pain's bitter cry !" 
 
 I have no intention of undertaking here to mea- 
 sure his labors or interpret his ideas; but I feel 
 tempted to say that his great field of action — the 
 greatest which any statesman can have — was in 
 undertaking to apply general principles to an artifi- 
 cial and complicated system; to reconcile liberty 
 
 -# 
 
39 
 
 with law; to work out the advance of liberty and 
 civilization through and under the rules of law and 
 government; to solve that greatest problem of hu- 
 man government, how much of the ideal may safely 
 be let into the practical. 
 
 He sought these objects, and he sought the po- 
 litical power which would enable him to carry out 
 these objects, and he threw into the struggle the 
 great passions of a great nature — the quidquid vult, 
 valde vult of the elder Brutus. He sought, and not 
 unsuccessfully, to throw around the cold impersonal 
 idea of a constitution the halo of love and reverence 
 which in the Old World gathers round the dynas- 
 ties of a thousand years; for, in the attachment 
 thus created, he thought he saw the means of safety 
 and permanence for his country. His large expe- 
 rience and broad forecast gave him notice of na- 
 tional dangers which all did not see, as the wires of 
 the electric telegraph convey news of startling im- 
 port, unknown to the slumbering villages through 
 which they pass. Whether his fears were well or 
 ill-founded, the future, the best guardian of his fame, 
 will show; but, whether well or ill-founded, matters 
 nothing now to him. He has passed through the 
 last and sternest trial, which he has himself in 
 anticipation described in words never to be for- 
 gotten : 
 
 "One may live (said he) as a conqueror, a hero, 
 or a magistrate, but he must die as a man. The 
 
40 
 
 bed of death brings every human being to his pure 
 individuality; to the intense contemplation of that, 
 the deepest and most solemn of all relations — the 
 relation between the creature and his Creator. 
 Here it is that fame and renown cannot assist 
 us; that all external things must fail to aid us; 
 that friends, affection, and human love and devoted- 
 ness cannot succor us. This relation, the true 
 foundation of all duty — a relation perceived and 
 felt by conscience and confirmed by revelation — our 
 illustrious friend, now deceased, always acknow- 
 ledged. He reverenced thes Scripture of truth, 
 honored the pure morality which they teach, and 
 clung to the hopes of future life which they impart." 
 Mr. Webster died in accordance with the pre- 
 vailing sentiment of his life, in the spirit of prayer 
 to God, and of love to man. Well might the nation 
 that watched his dying bed say, in the words which 
 the greatest English poet applies to a legendary hero 
 who also had been the stay of his country in peril : 
 
 Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
 Or knock the breast; no weakness, no contempt, 
 Dispraise or blame : nothing but well and fair, 
 And what may comfort us in a death so noble. 
 
 Mr. Speaker, I move the following resolves : 
 
 Resolved, That this House concurs with the Senate in its 
 expression of grief for the death of Daniel Webster, of 
 respect for his memory, and of estimation of the services 
 which he rendered to his country. 
 
m 
 
 41 
 
 Resolved, That the members of this House will wear crape 
 on the left arm for the space of thirty days. 
 
 Resolved, That the Speaker be requested to make these 
 resolves known to the surviving relatives of the deceased. 
 
 Resolved, That this House do now adjourn. 
 
 MR. APPLETON, of Maine. ' 
 
 Mr. Speaker : — I do not know that I ought to 
 add any thing to what has already been said upon 
 the resolutions before us; yet, since the death of 
 Mr. Webster was a national calamity, it is fit that 
 all classes and all parties in the community should 
 unite to testify their full appreciation of it. The 
 people themselves have admonished us of this, as 
 they have gathered recently with mournful reve- 
 rence around his tomb ; and we should be unworthy 
 of them, if, here in the Capitol, where he won so 
 much of his fame, we did not add our tribute to his 
 memory. It is a great memory, sir, and will go 
 down to posterity, as one of the country's heir- 
 looms, through I know not how many successive 
 generations. "We are not here, Mr. Speaker, to 
 build his monument. He builded that for himself 
 before he died ; and had he failed to do so, none 
 among us could supply the deficiency. "We are 
 here, rather, to recognise his labors, and to inscribe 
 the marble with his name. 
 
 That we have not all sympathized with him in 
 
42 
 
 his political doctrines, or been ready to sanction 
 every transaction of his public life, need not, and, 
 I am sure, does not, abate any thing from our 
 respect for his services, or our regret for his loss. 
 His character and his works — what he was and 
 what he did — constitute a legacy which no sound- 
 hearted American can contemplate without emo- 
 tions of gratitude and pride. There is enough of 
 Daniel Webster, sir, to furnish a common ground 
 upon which all his countrymen can mingle their 
 hearty tributes to his memory. 
 
 He was a man to be remarked anywhere. 
 Among a barbarous people he would have excited 
 reverence by his very look and mien. No one 
 could stand before him without knowing that he 
 stood in a majestic presence, and admiring those 
 lineaments of greatness with which his Creator had 
 enstamped, in a manner not to be mistaken, his 
 outward form. If there eVer was such an instance 
 on earth, his was the appearance described by the 
 great dramatist: — 
 
 The combination and the form indeed, 
 Where every god did seem to set his seal, 
 To give the world assurance of a man. 
 
 No one could listen to him in his happier mo- 
 ments, without feeling his spirit stirred within 
 
43 
 
 him by those deep, cathedral tones which were 
 the fit vehicles of his grave and earnest thoughts. 
 
 No one can read his writings without being 
 struck by the wonderful manner in which they 
 unite a severe simplicity of style with great warmth 
 of fancy, and great affluence of diction. 
 
 We, Mr. Speaker, remember his look and his 
 spoken words ; but by those who are to come after 
 us he will be chiefly known through that written 
 eloquence which is gathered in our public records, 
 and enshrined among the pages of his published 
 works. By these, at least, he still lives, and by 
 these, in my judgment, he will continue to live, 
 after these pillars shall have fallen, and this Capitol 
 shall have crumbled into ruin. Demosthenes has 
 survived the Parthenon, and Tully still pleads be- 
 fore the world the cause of Eoman culture and 
 Koman oratory ; but there is nothing, it seems to 
 me, either in Tully or in Demosthenes, which, for 
 conception, or language, or elevation of sentiment, 
 can exceed some passages in the writings which 
 remain of Daniel Webster. His fame, indeed, is 
 secure, for it is guarded by his own works ; and as 
 he himself said of Mr. Calhoun, " he has lived long 
 enough — he has done enough, and he has done 
 it so well, so successfully, so honorably, as to 
 connect himself for all time with the records of 
 his country." 
 
44 
 
 In no respect, Mr. Speaker, is this an occasion of 
 lamentation for 1dm. Death was not meant to be 
 regarded as an evil, or else it would not come alike 
 to all; and about Mr. Webster's death there were 
 many circumstances of felicity and good fortune. 
 He died in the maturity of his intellect ; after long 
 public service, and after having achieved a great 
 name for himself, and a great memory for his 
 country. He died at home; his last wants sup- 
 plied by the hands of affection; his last hours 
 cheered by the consolations of friendship ; amidst 
 those peaceful scenes which he had himself assisted 
 to make beautiful, and within hearing of that ocean- 
 anthem to which he always listened with emotions 
 of gratitude and joy. He died, too, conscious of the 
 wonderful growth and prosperity and glory of his 
 native land. His eloquent prayer had been an- 
 swered — the prayer which he breathed forth to 
 Providence at the greatest era of his life, when he 
 stood side by side with Andrew Jackson, and they 
 both contended for what was, in their belief, the 
 cause of the Constitution and the Union. 
 
 I pause, Mr. Speaker, at the combination of those 
 two names. Andrew Jackson and Daniel Webster ! 
 Daniel Webster and Andrew Jackson! With the 
 clear intellect and glorious oratory of the one, 
 added to the intuitive sagacity and fate-like will of 
 the other, I will not ask what ivrong is there which 
 
45 
 
 they could not successfully crush, but what right 
 is there, rather, which could withstand their united 
 power. 
 
 " When my eyes," he said on that great occasion, 
 " are turned to behold for the last time the sun in 
 heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken 
 and dishonoured fragments of a once glorious Union ; 
 on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a 
 land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, 
 with fraternal blood. Let their last feeble and lin- 
 gering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of 
 the republic, now known and honored throughout 
 the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and 
 trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a 
 stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured, 
 bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory 
 as ' What is all this worth ?' — nor those other words 
 of delusion and folly, c Liberty first and union after- 
 ward;' but everywhere, spread all over in charac- 
 ters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as 
 they float over the sea and over the land, and in 
 every wind under the whole heavens, that other 
 sentiment, dear to every American heart, ' Liberty 
 and union, now and for ever, one and inseparable.' " 
 Sir, Mr. Webster outlived the crisis of 1830, and 
 saw his country emerge in safety, also, from that 
 later tempest of sectional disturbance, whose waters 
 are even yet heaving with the swell of subdued, but 
 
46 
 
 not exhausted passion. He left this nation great, 
 prosperous, and happy ; and more than that, he left 
 the Constitution and the Union in vigorous exist- 
 ence, under whose genial influences all that glory, 
 and prosperity, and happiness, he knew, had been 
 achieved. To preserve them, he had risked what 
 few men have to risk — his reputation, his good name, 
 his cherished friendships ; and if there be any who 
 doubt the wisdom of his 7th of March speech, let 
 them consider the value of these treasures, and they 
 will at least give him credit for patriotism and sin- 
 cerity. But I am unwilling, Mr. Speaker, to dwell 
 upon this portion of his career. The fires of that 
 crisis have subsided ; but their ashes are yet warm 
 with recent strife. What Mr. Webster did, and the 
 other great men with whom he labored, to extin- 
 guish those fires, has gone into the keeping of his- 
 tory, and they have found their best reward in the 
 continued safety of the republic. 
 
 Our anxiety need not be for them. When the 
 mariner is out upon the ocean, and sees, one by one, 
 the lights of heaven go out before the rising storm, 
 he does not ask what has become of those lights, or 
 whether they shall renew their lustre ; but his in- 
 quiry is, what is to become of me, and how am I to 
 guide my bark in safety, after these natural pilots 
 of the sky have disappeared. Yet even then, by 
 consulting those calculation and directions, which 
 
47 
 
 wise and skilful men had prepared, when the light 
 did shine, and there was no tempest raging upon the 
 sea, -he is enabled, it may be, to grope his way in 
 safety to his desired port. And this, sir, is our con- 
 solation upon occasions like the present one. Jack- 
 son, and Calhoun, and Clay, and Wright, and Polk, 
 and Woodbury, and Webster, are indeed no more ; 
 and if all that they thought, and said, and did — 
 their wise conceptions, and their heroic deeds, and 
 their bright examples — were buried with them, how 
 terribly deepened would now be our sense of the 
 nation's loss, and how much less hopeful the pros- 
 pects of republican liberty. But it is not so. 
 "A superior and commanding human intellect," 
 (Mr. Webster has himself told us,) " a truly great 
 man, when Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is not 
 a temporary flame, burning brightly for a while, and 
 then giving place to returning darkness. It is rather 
 a spark of fervent heat, as well as radiant light, 
 with power to enkindle the common mass of human 
 mind ; so that when it glimmers in its own decay, 
 and finally goes out in death, no night follows, but 
 it leaves the world all light, all on fire, from the 
 potent contact of its own spirit." No, sir, our great 
 men do not wholly die. All that they achieved 
 worthy of remembrance survives them. They live 
 in their recorded actions ; they live in their bright 
 examples; they live in the respect and gratitude 
 
48 
 
 of mankind; and they live in that peculiar in- 
 fluence, by which one single commanding thought, 
 as it runs along the electric chain of human 
 affairs, sets in motion still other thoughts and in- 
 fluences, in endless progression; and thus makes 
 its author an active and powerful agent in the 
 events of life, long after his mortal portion shall 
 have crumbled in the tomb. 
 
 Let us thank God for this immortality of worth, 
 and rejoice in every example which is given to us 
 of what our nature is capable of accomplishing. 
 Let it teach us not despair, but courage, and lead 
 us to follow in its light, at however great a dis- 
 tance, and with however unequal steps. This is 
 the lesson of wisdom, as well as of poetry. 
 
 Lives of great men all remind us 
 
 We can make our lives sublime ; 
 And departing, leave behind us 
 
 Footprints on the sands of Time. 
 
 Footprints, that perhaps another, 
 
 Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
 A forlorn and shipwreck' d brother, 
 
 Seeing, may take heart again, 
 
 When God shall send his Angel to us, Mr. 
 Speaker, bearing the scroll of death, may we be 
 able to bow our heads to his mission with as 
 
49 
 
 much of gentleness and resignation as marked the 
 last hours of Daniel Webster. 
 
 MR. PRESTON. 
 
 Mr. Speaker : — I have been requested, by some 
 of the gentlemen who compose the delegation from 
 my State, to make some remarks upon the subject 
 of the message and resolutions received from the 
 Senate, which have been laid upon your table this 
 morning, in relation to the death of Mr. Webster. 
 It was, in their opinion, peculiarly appropriate that 
 Kentucky — a State so long associated with Massa- 
 chusetts in political sympathy, as well as in recipro- 
 cal admiration entertained for two of the most emi- 
 nent men of their day — should come forward and 
 add her testimonial of the esteem in which she held 
 his life and great public services, and the regret she 
 experienced at the calamity which has befallen the 
 country. The mind naturally goes back, in looking 
 over the great career of Daniel Webster, to the 
 period of his birth — seventy years ago. In the 
 northern part of the State of New Hampshire, be- 
 neath the roof of his pioneer father, the future 
 statesman first drew the breath of life, and imbibed, 
 amid its picturesque scenery and wild mountains, 
 that freedom of thought, that dignity, and that in- 
 tellectual health which left so indelible a mark upon 
 his oratory and public career in after-life. No man 
 
50 
 
 has earned a greater reputation, in the present time, 
 in forensic endeavor, than Mr. Webster, nor any 
 whose reputation could challenge comparison, unless 
 it be one who was also born in a similar obscure 
 station of life, amid the marshes of Hanover, and 
 whose future led him to cross the summit of the 
 Appalachian range with the great tide of population 
 which poured from Virginia upon the fertile plains 
 of Kentucky. Their destiny has been useful, great, 
 and brilliant. From that period to this, these cele- 
 brated contemporaries have been conspicuous in the 
 career of public utility to which they devoted their 
 lives, and by their intellectual superiority and dig- 
 nified statesmanship have commanded not only the 
 respect of their several States, but of the nation and 
 of mankind. For forty years they swayed the 
 councils of their country, and the same year sees 
 them consigned to the grave. The statesman of 
 Ashland died in this city, before the foliage of sum- 
 mer was sere, and was sent, with the honors of his 
 country, back to the resting-place which he now oc- 
 cupies in the home of his early adoption. The 
 winds of autumn have swept the stern New England 
 shores — the shores of Plymouth, where the Pilgrim 
 Fathers landed — and caught up the expiring breath 
 of Daniel Webster as he terminated his life of 
 honorable service. The dirge that the night winds 
 now utter through the primeval forests of Ashland 
 lament for one; the surges of the wintry ocean, as 
 
51 
 
 they beat upon the shores of Marshfield, are a fit- 
 ting requiem to the other. 
 
 There are two points of particular prominence in 
 the life of Webster to which I will allude. All 
 remember the celebrated struggle of 1830. The 
 greatest minds of the country, seeing the constitu- 
 tional questions involved from different points of 
 view, were embroiled in controversy. The darkest 
 apprehensions were entertained. A gallant and gift- 
 ed senator from South Carolina, (General Hayne,) 
 with a genius and fire characteristic of the land of 
 his birth, had expressed the views of his party with 
 great ability, and, as it was thought, with irresist- 
 ible eloquence. The eyes of the country were di- 
 rected to Webster as the champion of the Constitu- 
 tion and the Union. Crowds of beautiful women 
 and anxious men on that day thronged the other 
 wing of this Capitol. What patriotic heart in the 
 nation has yet forgotten that noble and memorable 
 reply? A deep and enthusiastic sentiment of admi- 
 ration and respect thrilled through the heart of the 
 people, and even yet the triumph of that son of New 
 England is consecrated in the memory of his coun- 
 trymen. Subsequently, the Chief Magistrate of the 
 Union, President Jackson, announced opinions of a 
 similar character in his celebrated Proclamation, and 
 men of all parties felt that a new rampart had been 
 erected for the defence of the Constitution. 
 
 At a period more recent, within the remembrance 
 
52 
 
 of all, Daniel "Webster again appeared in another 
 critical emergency that imperilled the safety of the 
 republic. It was the 7th of March, 1850. Ex- 
 cited by the territorial question, the spirit of fana- 
 ticism broke forth with fearful violence from the 
 North. But it did not shake his undaunted soul. 
 He gazed with majestic serenity at the storm, and 
 sublime in his self-reliance, as Virgil describes Me- 
 zentius surrounded by his enemies, 
 
 He, like a solid rock by seas enclosed, 
 To raging winds and roaring waves exposed, 
 From his proud summit looking down, disdains 
 Their empty menace, and unmoved remains. 
 
 A great portion of the fame of Daniel Webster 
 rests upon the events of that day, and his patriotism 
 having endured the tempest, his reputation shone 
 with fresh lustre after it had passed. Clay and 
 Webster on that day stood linked hand-in-hand, 
 and averted the perils that menaced their common 
 country. In the last great act of their lives in the 
 Senate, they drew closer the bonds of union between 
 the North and South, like those lofty Cordilleras 
 that, stretching along the Isthmus of Panama, bind 
 in indissoluble bonds Northern and Southern Ame- 
 rica, and alike beat back from their rocky sides the 
 fury of either ocean. These, Mr. Speaker, and gen- 
 tlemen of the House, are the memories that make 
 
53 
 
 us in our Western homes revere the names of Clay 
 and Webster. 
 
 The gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. Davis,) 
 in his eloquent tribute to the genius and fame of 
 Daniel Webster, has chosen to apply to him the 
 remark by which Cicero characterizes Brutus — 
 " Quidquid vult, valde vult" If he will pardon me, 
 I think the description applied by the great orator 
 whom he has quoted to Gracchus is more striking : 
 " Eloquentia quidem nescio an Jtahuisset parent : gran- 
 dis est verbis, sapiens sententiis, genere toto gravis" 
 If, however, a resemblance prevailed in this respect 
 between Caius Gracchus and Webster, it did not in 
 others. Gracchus, as we are told, was the first Ko- 
 man orator who turned his back to the capitol and 
 his face to the people ; the popular orators of Eome, 
 anterior to that time, having always turned their 
 faces to the Senate and their backs to the Forum. 
 Webster never sought to subvert the judgment of 
 the people by inflaming their passions. His sphere 
 was among men of intellect. His power was in 
 convincing the minds of the cultivated and intel- 
 lectual, rather than by fervid harangues to sway the 
 ignorant or excite the multitude. Clay — bold, bril- 
 liant, and dashing, rushing at results with that intu- 
 ition of common sense that outstrips all the pro- 
 cesses of logic — always commanded the heart and 
 directed the action of his party. Webster seemed 
 deficient in some of these great qualities, but sur- 
 
54 
 
 passed him in others. He appeared his natural 
 auxiliary. Clay, the most brilliant parliamentary 
 leader, and probably unequalled, save by the Earl of 
 Chatham, whom he resembled, swept with the velo- 
 city of a charge of cavalry on the ranks of his op- 
 ponents, and often won the victory before others 
 were prepared for the encounter. Webster, with his 
 array of facts, his power of statement, and logical 
 deductions, moved forward like the disciplined and 
 serried infantry, with the measured tread of delibe- 
 rate resolution and the stately air of irresistible 
 power. 
 
 Daniel Webster is dead. He died without ever 
 having been elevated to the Presidency of the na- 
 tion. Camillus, the second founder of Eome, never 
 enjoyed the Consulate; but he was not less illus- 
 trious because he was not rewarded by the fasces 
 and the consular purple. Before the lustre of Web- 
 ster's renown, a merely presidential reputation must 
 grow pale. He has not only left a reputation of 
 unsurpassed lustre in the Senate, but he will also 
 pass down to posterity as the ablest and most pro- 
 found jurist of his day. As an orator, he had not, 
 as has been correctly observed by a senator from 
 New York, the vehemence of Demosthenes, nor the 
 splendor of Cicero ; but still Daniel Webster was 
 an orator — an orator marked by the characteristics 
 of the Teutonic race — bold, massive, and replete 
 with manly force and vigor. His writings are 
 
 i 
 
55 
 
 marked by a deep philosophy which will cause 
 them to be read when the issues that evoked them 
 have passed away, and the splendor of an imagina- 
 tion, almost as rich as that of Burke, will invest 
 them with attractions alike for the political scholar 
 and the man of letters. 
 
 We should not deplore the death of Webster. It 
 is true the star has shot from the sphere it illumi- 
 nated, and is lost in the gloom of death ; but he 
 sank«£ull of years and honors, after he had reached 
 the verge of human life, and before his majestic in- 
 tellect was dimmed or his body bowed down by 
 old age. He did not sink into his grave, like Marl- 
 borough, amid the mists of dotage ; but he went 
 while his intellect was unclouded, and the literary 
 remembrances of his youth came thronging to the 
 dying bed of their votary. Napoleon, when he was 
 expiring at St. Helena, muttered disconnected words 
 of command and battle, that showed his turbulent 
 mind still struggled in imaginary conflicts ; but gen- 
 tler spirits brought to the death-bed of the states- 
 man of Marshfield more consoling memories as he 
 murmured, 
 
 The curfew tolls the knell of parting day; 
 
 and all the tender and mournful beauties of that 
 inimitable elegy clustered around his soul. 
 
 But, sir, I will not venture to say more on this 
 theme. I have said thus much in the name of my 
 
 1 
 
56 
 
 native State, to testify her veneration for worth, 
 patriotism, and departed greatness, and to add with 
 proper reverence a handful of earth to the mound 
 a nation raises to the memory of the great secre- 
 tary, and to say, Peace be to the manes of Webster. 
 
 MR. SEYMOUR, of New York, said:— 
 
 Mr. Speaker : — I rise in support of the resolu- 
 tions offered by the gentleman from Massachusetts, 
 and in that connection propose to submit a*few 
 remarks. 
 
 Sir, our great men are the common property of 
 the country. In the days of our prosperity, we 
 boast of their genius and enterprise as they advance 
 the general weal. In the hour of a nation's peril, 
 the shadow of their great name is the gathering 
 point, whither we all turn for guidance and defence ; 
 and whether their laurels have been gathered on the 
 battle-field, in sustaining our rights against hostile 
 nations — in the halls of legislation, devising and 
 enacting those wise and beneficent laws which, by 
 developing the resources, instructing the mind, and 
 directing the energies of the nation, may be traced 
 on the frame- work of society long after their authors 
 have ceased to exist — or in the temple of justice or 
 the sacred desk, regulating the jarring elements of 
 civil life, and making men happier and better — 
 they are all parts of one grand exhibition, showing, 
 
57 
 
 through all coming time, what the men of the pre- 
 sent age and of our nation have done for the eleva- 
 tion and advancement of our race. To chronicle 
 these results of human effort, and to transmit them 
 to future ages, is the province of history. In her 
 temple, the great and the good are embalmed. 
 There they may be seen and read by all those who, 
 in future generations, shall emulate their great 
 deeds. Time, whose constant flow is continually 
 obliterating and changing the physical and social 
 relations of all things, cannot efface the landmarks 
 which they have raised along the pathway of life. 
 The processes by which they attained the grand re- 
 sult, and the associations by which they at the time 
 were surrounded, are unknown or forgotten, while 
 we contemplate the monuments which their genius 
 and heroism have raised. 
 
 Who that reads the story of the battle of Mara- 
 thon, by which the liberties of Athens were rescued 
 from Persian despotism, stops to inquire to what 
 party in that republic Miltiades belonged? Who 
 that listens to the thunders of Demosthenes, as he 
 moves all Greece to resist the common enemy, 
 attempts to trace his political associations? So it 
 will be in the future of this republic. The battle 
 of New Orleans will disclose Jackson, the hero and 
 the patriot, saving his country from her enemies. 
 The debates of the Senate Chamber will exhibit 
 
58 
 
 Clay, Calhoun, and Webster, illustrating and de- 
 fending the great principles of our government by 
 their lofty patriotism and eloquence. On neither 
 picture will be observed whatever we of the present 
 time may judge to have savored of the mere politi- 
 cian and the partisan. We, from our near proxi- 
 mity, may see, or think we see, the ill-shapen rocks 
 and the unseemly caverns which disfigure the sides 
 of these mighty Alpine peaks. Future ages will 
 only descry their ever-gilded summits. 
 
 Who, then, shall lightly say that Fame 
 
 Is but an empty name ? 
 
 When, but for these our mighty dead, 
 
 All ages past a blank would be, 
 Sunk in Oblivion's murky bed — 
 
 A desert bare — a shipless sea. 
 They are the distant objects seen, 
 The lofty marks of what hath been ; 
 
 Where memory of the mighty dead, 
 To earth -worn pilgrims' wistful eye 
 
 The brightest rays of cheering shed 
 That point to immortality. 
 
 Sir, I shall not attempt here to even briefly re- 
 view the public life or delineate the true character 
 of Daniel Webster. That public life, extending 
 through more than forty years of the growth and 
 progress of our country, will doubtless be sketched 
 by those of his compeers who have shared with him 
 
59 
 
 in his public service. That character, too, will best 
 be drawn by those intimate friends who knew him 
 best, and who enjoyed the most favourable opportu- 
 nities for observing the operations of his giant 
 mind. 
 
 In looking at what he has achieved, not only in 
 the fields of legislation, but in those of literature 
 and jurisprudence, I may say he has left a monu- 
 ment of his industry and genius of which his 
 countrymen may well be proud. His speeches in 
 the Senate and before the assemblies of the people, 
 and his arguments before our highest courts, taken 
 together, form the most valuable contribution to 
 American literature, language, and oratory, which 
 it has been the good fortune of any individual to 
 have yet made. Were I to attempt it, I should be 
 unable to determine on which of the varied scenes 
 of his labors his genius and talents stood pre- 
 eminent. 
 
 His argument in the Dartmouth College case has 
 ever been regarded as a model of forensic debate, 
 exhibiting the rare combination of the dry logic of 
 the law with the tender, the beautiful, and the 
 sublime. His address before the Historical Society 
 of New York not only exhibited a thorough ac- 
 quaintance with ancient and modern literature, but 
 was itself a gem whose brilliancy will never cease 
 to attract even by the side of the great lights of the 
 
60 
 
 literary world. The speech in the Senate in reply to 
 Hayne, by its powerful argumentation, its sublimity, 
 and patriotic fervor, placed him at once, by the 
 common consent of mankind, in the front rank of 
 orators. 
 
 But I cannot on this occasion review a life re- 
 plete with incidents at once evincing the workings 
 of a great mind, and marking important events in 
 the history of the country. I can here only speak 
 of his labors collectively. They were the result 
 of great effort — grand in their conception, effec- 
 tive in their execution, and permanent in their 
 influences. 
 
 As a son of his native New England, I am proud 
 to refer back to the plain and unostentatious man- 
 ners, the rigid discipline, and the early and 
 thorough mental training, to be found among the 
 yeomanry of that part of our country, as con- 
 tributing primarily to the eminent success of Mr. 
 Webster in the business of his life. Born, reared, 
 and educated among the granite hills of New 
 Hampshire, although his attachments to the place 
 of his birth were strong to the last, yet, upon the 
 broad theatre upon which he was called to act his 
 part as a public man, his sympathies and his pa- 
 triotism were bounded only by the confines of the 
 whole republic. 
 
 Although, in common with many of us, I differed 
 
61 
 
 in opinion from the late Secretary of State upon 
 grave political questions, yet, with the great mass 
 of our fellow-citizens, I acknowledge his patriotism, 
 and the force and ability with which he sustained 
 his own opinions. However we may view those 
 opinions, one thing will be conceded by all: his 
 feelings were thoroughly American, and his aim 
 the good of his country. In his whole public life, 
 and by his greatest efforts as an orator, he has left 
 deeply impressed on the American mind one great 
 truth, never to be forgotten — the preservation of 
 American liberty depends upon the support of the 
 Constitution and the Union of the States. To have 
 thus linked his name indissolubly with the per- 
 petuity of our institutions is enough of glory for 
 any citizen of the republic. 
 
 MR. CHANDLER said:— 
 
 Mr. Speaker : — The selection of the present 
 time to make special and official reference to the 
 death of Mr. Webster may be regarded as fortunate 
 and judicious. An earlier moment would have ex- 
 posed our eulogies to those exaggerations which, 
 while they do justice in some measure to the feelings 
 whence they spring, are no proofs of sound judg- 
 ment in the utterer, nor sources of honor to their 
 lamented object. The great departed owe little to 
 the record of their worth, which is made in the 
 
 " 
 
62 
 
 midst of sudden emotions, when the freshness of 
 personal intercourse mingles with recollections of 
 public virtues, and the object, observed through the 
 tears of recent sorrow, bears with it the prismatic 
 hues which distort its fair proportions, and hide 
 that simplicity which is the characteristic of true 
 greatness. And equally just is it to the dead 
 whom we would honor, and to our feelings which 
 would promote that honor, that we have not post- 
 poned the season to a period when time would so 
 have mitigated our just regret as to direct our 
 eulogies only to those lofty points of Mr. "Webster's 
 character which strike but from afar; which owe 
 their distinction less to their affinities with public 
 sympathy than to their elevation above ordinary 
 ascent, and ordinary computation. 
 
 That distance, too, in a government like ours, is 
 dangerous to a just homage to the distinguished 
 dead, however willing may be the survivor; for 
 smaller objects intervene, and by proximity hide 
 the proportions which we survey from afar, and 
 diminish that just appreciation which is necessary 
 to the honorable praise that is to perpetuate public 
 fame. 
 
 Mr. Webster was a distinguished statesman, 
 tried, sir, in nearly all the various positions which 
 in our government the civilian is called on to fill, 
 and in all these places the powers of a gifted mind, 
 
63 
 
 strengthened and improved by a practical educa- 
 tion, were the great means by which he achieved 
 success, and patriotism the motive of their devotion. 
 With all Mr. Webster's professional greatness, with 
 all his unrivalled powers in the Senate, with his 
 great distinction as a diplomatist, he was fond of 
 credit as a scholar; and his attainments, if not of 
 the kind which gives eminence to merely literary 
 men, were such as gave richness and terseness to 
 his own composition, and vigor and attraction to his 
 conversation. His mind was moulded to the strong 
 conception of the epic poet, rather than the gentle 
 phrase of the didactic; and his preference for na- 
 tural scenery seemed to partake of his literary 
 taste — it was for the strong, the elevated, the grand. 
 His childhood and youth joyed in the rough sides of 
 the mountains of New Hampshire, and his age 
 found a delightful repose on the wild shores of 
 Massachusetts bay. He was a lover of Nature, not 
 in her holiday suit of field and flower, but in those 
 wild exhibitions of broken coast and isolated hills, 
 that seem to stir the mind into activity, and pro- 
 voke it into emulation of the grandeur with which 
 it is surrounded. Yet, sir, Mr. Webster had with 
 him much of the gentleness which gives beauty to 
 social life, and dignity and attraction to the do- 
 mestic scene, just as the rugged coast is often 
 as placid as the gentlest lake, and the summit of 
 
64 
 
 the roughest hill is frequently bathed in the softest 
 sunlight, and clad in flowers of the most delicate 
 hues. Mr. Webster's person was strongly indica- 
 tive of the character of his mind; not formed for 
 the lighter graces, but graceful in the noblest uses 
 of manhood; remarkable in the stateliness of its 
 movements,* and dignified in the magnificence of 
 its repose. Mr. Webster could scarcely pass un- 
 noticed, even where unknown. There was that in 
 his mien which attracted attention, and awakened 
 interest; and his head (whether his countenance 
 was lighted by a smile, such as only he could give, 
 or fixed by contemplation, such as only he could 
 indulge) seemed an 
 
 arch'd and ponderous roof, 
 By its own weight made steadfast and immovable, 
 Looking tranquillity ! 
 
 With all Mr. Webster's lofty gifts and attain- 
 ments, he was ambitious. Toiling upward from 
 the base of the political ladder, it is not to be de- 
 nied that he desired to set his foot upon the upmost 
 round. This could not have been a thirst for 
 power : nothing of a desire for the exercise of abso- 
 lute authority could have been in that aspiration ; 
 for the only absolute power left (if any be left) by 
 the Constitution in the Executive of this nation is 
 "mercy." In Mr. Webster it was the distinction 
 
65 
 
 which the place conferred, and the sphere of use- 
 fulness it presented. He regarded it as the crown- 
 ing glory of his public life — a glory earned by his 
 devotion of unparalleled talents and unsurpassed 
 statesmanship. This ambition in Mr. Webster was 
 modesty. He could not see, as others saw and 
 felt, that no political elevation was necessary to 
 the completion of his fame or the distinction of his 
 statesmanship. It was not for him to understand 
 that the last round of political preferment, honor- 
 able as it is, and made more honorable by the 
 lustre which purity of motive, great talents, and 
 devoted patriotism are now shedding down upon 
 it — he could not understand that preferment, honor- 
 able as it is, was unnecessary to him ; that it could 
 add nothing to his political stature, nor enlarge the 
 horizon of his comprehensive views. It is the 
 characteristic of men of true greatness, of exalted 
 talents, to comprehend the nature and power of 
 the gifts they possess. That, sir, is an homage to 
 God, who bestows them. But it is also their mis- 
 fortune to be dissatisfied with the means and op- 
 portunities they have possessed to exercise those 
 gifts to great national purposes. This is merely 
 distrust of themselves. The world, sir, compre- 
 hends the uses of the talents of great statesmen, 
 and gives them credit for their masterly powers, 
 without asking that those powers should be tried 
 
66 
 
 in every position in which public men may be 
 placed. 
 
 I see not in all the character, gifts, and attain- 
 ments of Mr. Webster, any illustration of the Bri- 
 tish orator's exclamation, relative to "the shadows 
 which we are ;" nor do I discover in the splendid 
 career and the aims of his lofty ambition any thing 
 to prove " what shadows we pursue." 
 
 The life of such a man as Daniel Webster is 
 one of solid greatness; and the objects he pursued 
 are worthy of a being made in the image of God. 
 A life of honorable distinction is a substantive and 
 permanent object. The good of man, and the true 
 glory and happiness of his country, are the sub- 
 stantial things, the record of which generation 
 hands down to generation, inscribed with the name 
 of him that pursued them. 
 
 I will not, sir, trespass on this House by any at- 
 tempt to sketch the character, or narrate the ser- 
 vices of Mr. Webster; too many will have a share 
 in this day's exercises to allow one speaker so ex- 
 tensive a range. It is enough for me, if, in obeying 
 the indications of others, I give to my effort the 
 tone of respect with which the statesman and the 
 patriot, Webster, was regarded, as well by the 
 nation at large as by those whom I have the honor 
 to represent on this floor. And in the remarks of 
 those whose means of judging have been better 
 
-•) 
 
 67 
 
 than mine, will be found his characteristics of social 
 and domestic life. 
 
 How keenly Mr. Webster relished the relaxa- 
 tions which public duties sometimes allowed, I had 
 an opportunity of judging; for he loved to call to 
 my recollections scenery which had been familiar 
 to me in childhood, as it was lovely to him in age. 
 The amusements, in which he gratified a manly 
 taste in the midst of that scenery, were promotive 
 of physical recuperation, rendered necessary by the 
 heavy demands of professional or official life. He 
 was stimulated to thought by the activity which 
 the pursuits on land required, or led to deep con- 
 templation by the calmness of the ocean on which 
 he rested. Though dying in office, Mr. Webster 
 was permitted to breathe his last in those scenes 
 made classical to others by his uses, and dear to 
 him by their ministrations to, and correspondence 
 with, his taste. 
 
 The good of his country undoubtedly occupied 
 the last moments of his ebbing life ; but those mo- 
 ments were not disturbed by the immediate press- 
 ure of official duties; and in the dignity of do- 
 mestic quiet, he passed onward; and while at a 
 distance communities awaited in grief and awe the 
 signal of his departure, the deep diapason of the 
 Atlantic wave, as it broke upon his own shore, was 
 a fitting requiem for such a parting spirit. 
 
68 
 
 MR. BAYLY, of Virginia, remarked:— 
 
 I had been, sir, nearly two years a member of 
 Congress before I made Mr. Webster's acquaintance. 
 About that time a proceeding was instituted here, 
 of a delicate character so far as he was concerned, 
 and incidentally concerning an eminent constituent 
 and friend of mine. This circumstance first brought 
 me into intercourse with Mr. Webster. Subse- 
 quently, I transacted a good deal of official business 
 with him, some of it also of a delicate character. I 
 thus had unusual opportunities of forming an opi- 
 nion of the man. The acquaintance I made with 
 him, under the circumstances to which I have re- 
 ferred, ripened into friendship. It is to these cir- 
 cumstances that I, a political opponent, am indebted 
 for the honor, as I esteem it, of having been re- 
 quested to say something on this occasion. 
 
 From my early manhood, of course, sir, I have 
 been well acquainted with Mr. Webster's public 
 character, and I had formed my ideal of him as a 
 man ; and what a misconception of it was that 
 ideal ! Earely seeing him in public places, in fami- 
 liar intercourse with his friends, contemplating his 
 grave statue-like appearance in the Senate and the 
 Forum, I had formed the conception that he was a 
 frigid iron-bound man, whom few could approach 
 without constraint ; and I undertake to say that — 
 until of late years, in which, through personal 
 sketches of him by his friends, the public has be- 
 
69 
 
 come acquainted with his private character — such 
 was the idea most persons who knew him only as I 
 did formed of him. Yet, sir, what a misconception ! 
 No man could appreciate Mr. Webster who did not 
 know him privately. No man could appreciate him 
 who did not see him in familiar intercourse with his 
 friends, and especially around his own fireside and 
 table. There, sir, he was confiding, gay, and some- 
 times downright boyish. Full of racy anecdote, he 
 told them in the most captivating manner. 
 
 Who that ever heard his description of men and 
 things can ever forget them? Mr. Webster, sir, 
 attached a peculiar meaning to the word taUc, and 
 in his sense of the term he liked to talk ; and who 
 that ever heard him talk can forget that talk? 
 Sometimes it was the most playful wit, then the 
 most pleasing philosophy. Mr. Webster, sir, owed 
 his greatness, to a large'extent, to his native gifts. 
 
 Among his contemporaries there were lawyers 
 more learned, yet he was, by common consent, as- 
 signed the first place at the American bar. As a 
 statesman, there were those more thoroughly in- 
 formed than he, yet w r hat statesman ranked him ? 
 Among orators there were those more graceful and 
 impressive, yet what orator w r as greater than he ? 
 There were scholars more ripe, yet who wrote better 
 English? The characteristics of his mind were 
 massive strength and classic beauty combined, with 
 a rare felicity. His favorite studies, if I may judge 
 
 
70 
 
 from his conversations, were the history and the 
 Constitution of his own country, and the history 
 and the Constitution of England; and I undertake 
 to say that there is not now a man living who was 
 more perfectly familiar with both. His favorite 
 amusements, too, if I may judge in the same way, 
 were field-sports and out-door exercise. I have fre- 
 quently heard Mr. Webster say, if he had been a 
 merchant, he would have been an out-door partner. 
 Mr. Webster was, as all great men are, eminently 
 magnanimous. As proof of this, see his whole life, 
 and especially that crowning act of magnanimity 
 — his letter to Mr. Dickinson. Mr. Webster had 
 no envy or jealousy about him — as no great man 
 ever had. Conscious of his own powers, he envied 
 those of no one else. Mr. Calhoun and himself en- 
 tered public life about the same time ; each of them 
 strove for the first honors 'of the republic. They 
 were statesmen of rival schools. They frequently 
 met in the stern encounter of debate, and when they 
 met the conflict was a conflict of giants. Yet how 
 delightful it was to hear Mr. Webster speak, as I 
 have heard him speak, in the most exalted terms of 
 Calhoun ; and how equally delightful it was to hear 
 Mr. Calhoun, as I have heard him, speak in like 
 terms of Webster. On one occasion, Mr. Calhoun, 
 speaking to me of the characteristics of Webster as 
 a debater, said that he was remarkable in this — that 
 he always stated the argument of his antagonist 
 
71 
 
 fairly, and boldly met it. He said he had even 
 seen him state the argument of his opponent more 
 forcibly than his opponent had stated it himself; 
 and, if he could not answer it, he would never un- 
 dertake to weaken it by misrepresenting it. What 
 a compliment was this, coming, as it did, from his 
 great rival in constitutional law ! I have also heard 
 Mr. Calhoun say that Mr. Webster tried to aim at 
 truth more than any statesman of his day. 
 
 A short time since, Mr. Speaker, when addressing 
 the House, at the invitation of the delegation from 
 Kentucky, on the occasion of Mr. Clay's death, I 
 used this language : 
 
 " Sir, it is but a short time since the American 
 Congress buried the first one that went to the grave 
 of that great triumvirate, (Calhoun.) We are now 
 called upon to bury another, (Clay.) The third, 
 thank God ! still lives ; and long may he live to en- 
 lighten his countrymen by his wisdom, and set them 
 the example of exalted patriotism. [Alas ! how 
 little did I think, when I uttered these words, that 
 my wish was so soon to be disappointed.] Sir, in 
 the lives and characters of these great men there is 
 much resembling those of the great triumvirate of 
 the British Parliament. It differs principally in 
 this : Burke preceded Fox and Pitt to the tomb. 
 Webster survives Clay and Calhoun. When Fox 
 and Pitt died, they left no peer behind them. Web- 
 ster still lives, now that Calhoun and Clay are dead, 
 
@- 
 
 72 
 
 the unrivalled statesman of his country. Like Fox 
 and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun lived in troubled times. 
 Like Fox and Pitt, they were each of them the 
 leader of rival parties. Like Fox and Pitt, they 
 were idolized by their respective friends. Like Fox 
 and Pitt, they died about the same time, and in the 
 public service; and, as has been said of Fox and 
 Pitt, Clay and Calhoun died with 'their harness 
 upon them.' Like Fox and Pitt — 
 
 With more than mortal powers endow' d, 
 How high they soar'd above the crowd ; 
 Theirs was no common party race, 
 Jostling by dark intrigue for place — 
 Like fabled gods their mighty war 
 Shook realms and nations in its jar. 
 Beneath each banner, proud to stand, 
 Look'd up the noblest of the land. 
 
 •I* *r* 5|C 5JC JjC 3(C 
 
 Here let their discord with them die. 
 Speak not for those a separate doom 
 Whom fate made brothers in the tomb; 
 But search the land of living men, 
 Where wilt thou find their like again f" 
 
 I may reproduce, on this occasion, with propriety, 
 what I then said, with the addition of the names of 
 Burke and Webster. The parallel that I undertook 
 to run on that occasion, by the aid of a poet, was not 
 designed to be perfect, yet it might be strengthened 
 by lines from another poet. For though Webster's 
 enemies must admit, as Burke's satirist did, that — 
 
 Too fond of the right, to pursue the expedient, 
 
73 
 
 yet, what satirist, with the last years of Webster's 
 life before him, will undertake to shock the public 
 sentiment of America by saying, as was unjustly 
 said of Burke by his satirist — 
 
 Born for the universe, be narrow' d his mind, 
 
 And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. 
 
 Mr. Speaker, during the brief period I have served 
 with you in this House, what sad havoc has Death 
 made among the statesmen of our republic ! Jack- 
 son, Wright, Polk, McDuffie, and Sergeant, in pri- 
 vate life, and Woodbury, from the bench, have gone 
 to the tomb ! We have buried in that short time 
 Adams, Calhoun, Taylor, and Clay, and we are now 
 called on to pay the last tribute of our respect to 
 the memory of Daniel Webster. Well may I ask, 
 in the language of the poem already quoted — 
 
 Where wilt thou find their like again ? 
 
 There was little, I fear, in the history of the lat- 
 ter days of some of those great men to whom I have 
 alluded to inspire the young men of our country to 
 emulate them in the labors and sacrifices of public 
 life. Yet there never was a time when there was a 
 stronger obligation of patriotic duty on us to emu- 
 late them in that respect than now. 
 
 They followed one race of revolutionary states- 
 men — they were the second generation of statesmen 
 
74 
 
 of our country. With one or two brilliant excep- 
 tions, that second generation has passed away, and 
 those that now have charge of public affairs, with 
 the exceptions referred to, are emphatically new 
 men. God grant we have the patriotism to follow 
 faithfully in the footsteps of those who preceded us ! 
 
 MR. STANLEY said :— 
 
 Mr. Speaker : — I feel that it is proper and be- 
 coming in me, as the representative of a people who 
 claim the reputation of Daniel Webster as part of 
 their most valuable property, to add a few words to 
 what has been already said. I do not think that it 
 is necessary to his fame to do so. I have no idea of 
 attempting a eulogy on Daniel Webster. It would 
 be presumptuous to attempt it. Long before my 
 entrance into public life, I heard from an illustrious 
 citizen of my native State, (the late Judge Gaston,) 
 that Mr. Webster, who was his contemporary in 
 Congress, gave early indication of the wonderful 
 abilities which he afterward displayed. There 
 were giants in the land in those days, and by 
 them Webster was regarded as one who would 
 earn great distinction. Before he reached the 
 height of his fame the young men in our land had 
 been taught to respect him. This was the feeling 
 of those who came forward on the stage of life with 
 me. In what language, then, can I express my ad- 
 miration of those splendid abilities which have de- 
 
75 
 
 lighted and instructed his countrymen, and charmed 
 the lovers of republican government throughout the 
 earth ? How shall I find fitting terms to speak of 
 his powers in conversation — his many good qualities 
 in social life — his extraordinary attainments — his 
 exalted patriotism ? Sir, I shrink from the task. 
 
 Gifted men from the pulpit, eloquent senators at 
 home and in the Senate, orators in Northern and 
 Southern and Western States, have gratified the pub- 
 lic mind by doing honor to his memory. To follow 
 in a path trodden by so many superior men requires 
 more boldness than I possess. But I cannot forbear 
 to say that we North Carolinians sympathize with 
 Massachusetts in her loss. We claim him as our 
 Webster, as we do the memories of her great men 
 of the Revolution. Though he has added glory to 
 the bright name of Massachusetts, he has been the 
 defender of that Constitution which has surrounded, 
 with impregnable bulwarks, the invaluable blessings 
 of civil liberty. When he made Massachusetts 
 hearts throb with pride that she had such a man to 
 represent her in the councils of the nation, we, too, 
 felt proud at her joy, for her glory is our glory. 
 
 Faneuil Hall is in Boston, and Boston in Massa- 
 chusetts; but the fame of those whose eloquence 
 from those walls fanned the fire of liberty in the 
 hearts of American patriots, and made tyrants trem- 
 ble on their thrones, is the fame of the American 
 people. 
 
76 
 
 Fanueil Hall ! Daniel Webster ! What glorious 
 associations do these words recall ! 
 
 The American patriot who hereafter performs his 
 pilgrimage to that time-honored Hall, and looks at 
 his portrait, appropriately placed there, will involun- 
 tarily repeat what the poet said of the Webster of 
 poets : 
 
 Here Nature listening stood, while Shakspeare play'd, 
 And wonder' d at the work herself had made. 
 
 Daniel Webster was to the revolutionary patriots 
 of Massachusetts, to the founders of our Constitution 
 in the Old Thirteen States, what Homer was to the 
 ancient heroes. Their deeds would have lived with- 
 out him. Their memories would have been che- 
 rished by their countrymen had Webster never 
 spoken. But who can say that his mighty ability, 
 his power of language, unequalled throughout the 
 world — who can say he has not embalmed their 
 memories, painted their deeds in beautiful drapery, 
 and by the might of his genius held them up in cap- 
 tivating form to his countrymen ? Who is there on 
 the habitable globe, wherever man is struggling for 
 freedom, wherever Washington's name is heard and 
 reverenced — who is there who will ever read the 
 history of those immortal men who achieved our 
 liberties, and founded with almost supernatural wis- 
 dom our Constitution and republican form of govern- 
 
77 
 
 ment — who can ever read the history of these great 
 men without saying, they achieved much, they per- 
 formed great and noble deeds, but Webster's oratory 
 has emblazoned them to the world, and erected 
 monuments to their memories more enduring than 
 marble ? Can man aspire to higher honor than to 
 have his name associated with such men? This 
 honor, by universal consent, Daniel Webster, the 
 son of a New Hampshire farmer, has secured. 
 Wherever liberty is prized on earth, in whatever 
 quarter of the globe the light of our "great republic" 
 is seen, sending its cheering beams to the heart of 
 the lonely exile of oppression — in that land, and to 
 that heart, will the name of Webster be held in 
 grateful remembrance. As we cannot think of 
 the founders of our republic without thinking of 
 Webster, we cannot speak of his services properly 
 except in his own words. How many of us, in and 
 out of Congress, since his death, have recalled his 
 memorable words, in his eulogium on Adams and 
 Jefferson. Hear him in that discourse : 
 
 "Adams and Jefferson, I have said, are no more. 
 As human beings, indeed, they are no more. They 
 are no more, as in 1776, bold and fearless advocates 
 of independence ; no more, as on subsequent periods, 
 the head of the government ; no more, as Ave have 
 recently seen them, aged and venerable objects of 
 admiration and regard. They are no more. They 
 are dead. But how little is there of the great and 
 
78 
 
 good which can die! To their country they yet 
 live, and live for ever. . They live in all that per- 
 petuates the remembrance of men on earth ; in the 
 recorded proofs of their great actions; in the off- 
 spring of their intellect ; in the deep and grave lines 
 of public gratitude, and in the respect and homage 
 of mankind. They live in their example; and they 
 live, emphatically, and will live, in the influence which 
 their lives and efforts, their principles and opinions, 
 now exercise, and will continue to exercise, on the 
 affairs of men, not only in their country, but through- 
 out the civilized world. A superior and commanding 
 human intellect, a truly great man, when Heaven 
 vouchsafes so rare a gift, is not a temporary flame, burn- 
 ing bright for a while, and then expiring, giving place 
 to returning darkness. It is rather a spark of fervent 
 heat as well as radiant light, with power to enkindle 
 the common mass of human mind ; so that when it 
 glimmers in its own decay, and finally goes out in 
 death, no night follows, but it leaves the world all 
 light, all on fire, from the potent contact of its own 
 spirit. Bacon died, but the human understanding, 
 roused by the touch of his miraculous wand to a 
 perception of the true philosophy, and the just mode 
 of inquiring after truth, has kept on its course, suc- 
 cessfully and gloriously. Newton died, yet the 
 courses of the spheres are still known, and they yet 
 move on in the orbits which he saw, and described 
 for them in the infinity of space." 
 
79 
 
 Who can hear these words without feeling how 
 appropriate and applicable to the great American 
 statesman? To his country he "still lives/' and 
 will live for ever. 
 
 Mr. Speaker, I fear to go on. The thoughts 
 which are in my mind are not worthy of the great 
 subject. I have read and heard so much from the 
 able, learned, and eloquent of our land in his 
 praise, I shrink from attempting to add any thing 
 more. 
 
 In justice to the feelings of those I represent, I 
 felt solicitous to cast my pebble on the pile which 
 was erecting to his memory. They venerate his 
 memory, not only for those services to which I have 
 referred, but also for his later exhibitions of patriot- 
 ism, in stemming the torrent of temporary excite- 
 ment at home. The year 1852, Mr. Speaker, will 
 long be memorable in the annals of our country. 
 In this year, three great lights of our age and our 
 country have gone out. But a few months since, the 
 voice of lamentation was heard from the Atlantic to 
 the Pacific shore that Henry Clay was no more. 
 The sounds of sorrow had scarcely died in our ears, 
 when inexorable Death, striking with remorseless 
 hand at the cottage of the peasant and the palace 
 of the great — Death, as if to send terror to our souls 
 by showing us that the greatest in place and in ge- 
 nius are but men — has destroyed all that was mor- 
 tal of Daniel Webster. 
 
».- 
 
 80 
 
 And even while we were celebrating his obse- 
 quies, the sagacious statesman, the wise counsellor, 
 the pure and upright man, John Sergeant, of Penn- 
 sylvania — the man who more happily combined the 
 suaviter in modo with the fwtiter in re than any 
 public man I ever met with — the model of that best 
 of all characters, a Christian gentleman, always lov- 
 ing "whatsoever things are true, honest, just, lovely, 
 and of good report," — John Sergeant is called to that 
 beatific vision reserved for "the pure in heart." 
 
 Let it be our pleasure, as it will be our duty, to 
 teach those who come after us to imitate the private 
 virtues, remember the public services, and cherish 
 the reputation of these illustrious men. And while 
 we do this, let us cherish, with grateful remem- 
 brance and honest pride, the thought that these 
 great men were not only lovers of liberty, friends of 
 republican institutions, and patriots devoted to the 
 service of their country, but that they were, with 
 sincere conviction, believers in the Christian reli- 
 gion. Without this praise, the Corinthian column 
 of their characters would be deprived at once of the 
 chief ornament of its capital and the solidity of its 
 base. 
 
 I fervently hope the lessons we have had of the 
 certainty of death will not be lost upon us. May 
 they make us less fond of the pleasures of this 
 world, so rapidly passing away ! May they cause 
 those who are in high places of trust and honor to 
 
81 
 
 remember, now in the days of health, manhood, and 
 prosperity, that 
 
 The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
 
 Await alike th' inevitable hour — 
 
 The paths of glory lead but to the grave ! 
 
 MR. TAYLOR, of Ohio, said :— 
 
 Mr. Speaker: — In the Congress of 1799, when 
 the announcement of the death of General Washing- 
 ton was made in this body, appropriate resolutions 
 were passed to express the high appreciation of the 
 representatives of the people of the pre-eminent 
 public services of the Father of his Country, and 
 profound grief for their loss. His death was con- 
 sidered a great national calamity ; and in the beau- 
 tiful and appropriate language of General Henry 
 Lee, who prepared the resolutions introduced by 
 John Marshall, he was proclaimed as having been 
 " First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts 
 of his countrymen." The whole nation cordially 
 responded to that sentiment ; and from that day to 
 this, the high eulogium has been adopted by the 
 people of the United States of America, as the just 
 and expressive tribute to the greatest man, take him 
 all in all, that our country had then or has since 
 produced. Time rolled on; and the sentiment of 
 
82 
 
 his own country has, of late years, become the intel- 
 ligent opinion of the whole world. And in proof of 
 this I might cite, among others, the deliberately 
 recorded opinions of the late Premier Guizot, of 
 France, and the great, though eccentric writer and 
 statesman, Brougham, of England, men of vast 
 celebrity. 
 
 Our country, then in its infancy, has grown up in 
 little more than half a century, to be the first re- 
 public in the world, having increased from three or 
 four millions to nearly twenty-five millions of inha- 
 bitants, and extending from the Atlantic to the 
 Pacific Ocean. During the present year, the nation 
 has been called upon to mourn the death of two of 
 her distinguished citizens ; two men born since the 
 establishment of our independence, cradled in the 
 Kevolution, and brought up, as it were, at the feet 
 of the fathers of the republic, whose long public 
 career has attracted to them and all that concerned 
 them, more than to any others, the admiration, the 
 gratitude, and the hope of the whole people. These 
 men — Henry Clay and Daniel Webster — have 
 both been gathered to their fathers during the pre- 
 sent year. When, during our last session, the offi- 
 cial announcement was made in this House of the 
 death of Henry Clay, I listened with heartfelt sym- 
 pathy to the eloquent and beautiful eulogies then 
 pronounced upon his character, and felt in the ful- 
 
83 
 
 ness of my heart the truest grief. As one of the 
 representatives of the great and prosperous State 
 of Ohio on this floor, I desired them to mingle my 
 humble voice with those who eagerly sought to 
 honor his memory. But no opportunity was af- 
 forded me, and I could only join with meekness of 
 spirit and a bowed mind in the appropriate funeral 
 honors which were rendered to the illustrious dead 
 by Congress. And I only now desire to say, that 
 no State in this Union, not even his own beloved 
 Kentucky, more deeply felt the great loss which, in 
 the death of Mr. Clay, the nation had sustained, 
 than the State of Ohio ; and the public meetings 
 of her citizens, without distinction of party, in the 
 city in which I reside, and many other parts of the 
 State, expressed, in appropriate and feeling terms, 
 their high estimate of his great public services, and 
 their profound grief for his death. 
 
 And now, sir, since the adjournment of Congress, 
 at its last session, he who co-operated with Mr. 
 Clay in the legislative and executive departments, 
 at various times, for nearly forty years, and to 
 whom, with his great compatriot, more than to any 
 others, the people looked for counsel, and for secu- 
 rity and peace — he, too, has paid the debt of nature, 
 and will never more be seen among men. The 
 formal announcement in this body of the death of 
 Daniel Webster has elicited just and eloquent 
 
84 
 
 tributes to his memory, and brings freshly to our 
 view the beautiful traits of his private character, 
 and his great and long-continued public services in 
 the Senate and in one of the executive depart- 
 ments of the government. In all that is said in 
 commendation of the private virtues and pre-emi- 
 nent public services of Daniel Webster, I heartily 
 concur ; and I wish, sir, that I could find words 
 sufficiently strong and appropriate to express what, 
 in my judgment, were the great claims of these two 
 eminent men upon the admiration and upon the 
 gratitude of their countrymen. They were in 
 many respects exemplars for the young men of our 
 country. Born (without any of the advantages con- 
 ferred sometimes by wealth and position) in humble 
 life; struggling with adversities in their earlier 
 years ; triumphing over all obstacles by their native 
 strength of intellect, by their genius, and by their 
 persevering industry and great energy, they placed 
 themselves in the very first rank of American 
 statesmen, and for more than forty years were the 
 great leaders of the American mind, and among 
 the brightest guardians of their common country. 
 
 Sir, it was my good fortune to have known, for 
 many years, both these great patriots, and to have 
 enjoyed their friendship ; and I think I but express 
 the general sentiment of the intelligent people of 
 this great country when I say that our country is, 
 
85 
 
 in a very large degree, indebted to them for its pre- 
 sent unexampled prosperity; for its peace and do- 
 mestic happiness; and for its acknowledged power 
 and high renown all over the world. In my judg- 
 ment, the words of the national legislature, so beau- 
 tifully and aptly embodying the true character of 
 the Father of his Country, were not more appropri- 
 ately uttered then in reference to him than they 
 might be applied now, so far as relates to the civil 
 affairs and action of our government within the last 
 forty years, to Henry Clay and Daniel Webster ; 
 and it may be properly said of them, that within 
 that time they have been, emphatically, "First in 
 war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of their 
 countrymen." But, sir, the great men of a country 
 must die ; and, if the great men of a country are 
 pre-eminently good men, their loss is the more se- 
 verely felt. Nothing human is perfect; and I am 
 far from believing, much less from asserting, that 
 the eminent men of whom I have spoken were with- 
 out defects of character. But I believe their vir- 
 tues so far outweighed the imperfections of their 
 nature, that to dwell upon such defects, on this occa- 
 sion, would be as unprofitable and futile as to object 
 to the light, and heat, and blessings of the glorious 
 sun, guided by the Omnipotent hand, because an 
 occasional shadow or spot may be seen on his disk. 
 These guardians of our country have passed away; 
 but their works and good examples are left for our 
 
86 
 
 guidance, and are part of the lasting and valued 
 possessions of this nation. And, Mr. Speaker^ 
 
 When the bright guardians of a country die, 
 The grateful tear in tenderness will start ; 
 
 And the keen anguish of a reddening eye 
 Disclose the deep affliction of the heart. 
 
 The question was put, and the resolutions were unani- 
 mously adopted ; and 
 
 The House adjourned till to-morrow at twelve o'clock M. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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