-CAIJ -mv k 5 ^ ^ArMnvMOr^ y 0AHv I i 5 & It * L I V 1 N R A T K S IN AMERICA. BY E. L. MAGC-ON, AUTHOR OF " PROVERBS TOR THE PEOPLE," " ORATORS OF AMERICAN REVOLUTION," SfC. NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER, 145 IIAIIAU 1TBEET AND 36 PARK ROW. 1851. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by BAKER & SCRIBNER, i the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Sc District of New York. C. W. BENEDICT, Stereotyper, 201 William ttreet, cor. of Frankfort. /85Y TO THE YOUNG MEN OP AMEBICA, HEIRS OF THE RICHEST DEPARTED WORTH, AND EMULATORS OF THE GRANDEST LIVING MERIT, THIS WORK IS FRATERNALLY INSCRIBED. 550449 LIST OF PLATES. FACING I. DANIEL WEBSTER, . . .... TITLE II. HENRY CLAY, . . 'Pj/ ...... 117 III. JOHN C. CALHOUN, . . /^ . C. f . . . 182 IV. LEWIS CASS, ........... 271 Y. THOMAS H. BENTON, . . .'''.' .' .' . . 302 VI. THOMAS CORWIN, 408 CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. DANIEL WEBSTER, THE LOGICIAN. II. EDWARD EVERETT, THE RHETORICIAN. III. HENRY CLAY, * THE POLITICIAN. IV. JOHN C. CALHOUN, THE METAPHYSICIAN. V. GEORGE McDUFFIE, THE IMPETUOUS. VI. LEWIS CASS, THE COURTEOUS. CONTENTS. VII. THOMAS H. BENTON, THE MAGISTERIAL. VIII. WILLIAM C. PRESTON, THE INSPIRED DEOLAIMER. IX. THOMAS CORWIN, THE NATURAL ORATOR. PREFACE. ON last September was published the "ORATORS OP THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION." Very kindly has that book been received in this country and in England. In accordance with the intimation given in the preface to that work, the present publication is made to the world with the hope that, like its predecessor, it may be deemed not altogether unworthy of discriminating scru- tiny and generous regard. Of the former volume, some have said that it would be improved if more copious extracts from the respective orators accompanied the author's analytical remarks. At the same time these critics have signified their doubts as to the possibility of procuring many authentic and characteristic specimens from some of the earliest and most efficient patriots of our land. Those doubts would deepen into despair, should the enthusiastic gentlemen referred to attempt to find what all would indeed be glad to read. But, unfortunately, we have only here and there a torso to remind us of the consummate excellence long since mutilated by revolutions and wasted by time. In the present instance, however, there is no such lack of well-authenticated materials. The chief difficulty lies in making a judicious selection therefrom, samples the most characteristic of each master, and calculated to exemplify in the most striking manner the peculiar qualities of each one's eloquence. The author may have failed in this respect, as in other important partic- ulars ; but, as he wished to succeed by doing justice to the subject every way, he has spared no pains. The reader will understand that the production before him is not designed to be a book of examples merely, or of precepts alone, but rather of both combined. Taken with the volume referred to above, it is believed that we have arranged a complete circle of oratorical models, each one in his own individuality standing for a class, nearly approximating perfection of its kind, and in the aggregate presenting an array of exalted worthies whom the best talents would do well to emulate, and whom the loftiest genius can only by the most strenuous efforts hope to excel. It is perhaps unnecessary to add that it has been the purpose of the author to maintain the strictest impar- PREFACE. IX tiality in portraying the distinguished personages in this work, in all of whom he recognizes much to admire. If in any instance he has been indiscreet or unjust in what he has presumed to write, he begs pardon of those who may conceive themselves wronged. He believes, however, that a delicate regard to private feelings and personal worth will be found pervading every succeed- ing page. In dedicating this work to the Young Men of America, the author would remind them of Cicero's beautiful exhortation to Brutus, after the death of Hortensius : " As you now seem to have been left the sole guardian of an orphan eloquence, let me conjure you to cherish her with a generous fidelity : discourage the addresses of her worthless and impertinent suitors : preserve her pure and unblemished in all her virgin charms; and secure her, to the utmost of your ability, from the law- less violence of every ruffian." E. L. M. Cincinnati, Feb. 22, 1849. CHAPTER I. DANIEL WEBSTER, THE LOGICIAN. " ALL honor to " The Old Granite State !" The con- tracted and tempestuous territory of New Hampshire has given birth to as much refined genius and effective talent, perhaps, as any State on our continent. Nearly all the heroism, moral excellence, and ennobling litera- ture of the world, has been produced . by those who, in infancy and youth were fostered by the inspiration of exalted regions, where the turf is covered with a rude beauty, rocks and wilderness are piled in bold and inimi- table shapes of savage grandeur, tinged with the hues of untold centuries, and over which awe-inspiring storms often sweep with thunders in their train. This is the influ- ence which more than half created the Shakspeares, Miltons, Spencers, Wordsworths, Scotts, Coleridges, Shelleys, Irvings, Coopers, Bryants, and Websters of the world ; and without much personal acquaintance with such scenes it is impossible for a reader to comprehend their highest individuality of character so as fully to relish the best qualities of their works. In the present discussion, we propose to consider the 1 2 LIVING ORATCRS IN AMERICA. leading circumstances of Daniel Webster's youth ; trace the progress -of his preparatory discipline ; sketch his professional career; and portray the chief features of his eloquence. In the first place, we remark that there is in the ele- ments of our humanity a perpetual sympathy with the accompaniments of its first development; the mind and deeds of strongly-marked individuals ever assimilate with the nature of their parent soil, and the impressions thereon first received. This rule is strikingly exempli- fied in the life and character of Mr. Webster. He was born in Salisbury, near the "White Hills" of New Hampshire, at the source of the river Merrimack, in 1782. His father, who was a farmer, served both in the old French war, and in the War of the Revolution. A company composed mostly of his neighbors and friends was under his command in the battle of Bennington, at White Plains, and at West Point, when Arnold's treason was discovered. He died about the year 1806, having worthily filled several public offices, and, among others, that of Judge of the Court of Common Pleas, for the State. Salisbury, to this day, is a retired, though nourishing town, but at the time its distinguished son appeared, the smoke of its few cabins went up amidst the rugged and lonely wilderness of the North. To describe the tempe- rature of the mountainous region of his advent, it is fitting that we should employ the language of Milton in his " Moscova." Says he : " The north parts of this country are st> barren, that the inhabitants fetch their <*orn a thousand miles, and so cold in winter, that the DANIEL WEBSTER. very sap of their wood-fuel burning on the fire freezes at the brand's end where it drops. The mariners which were left on ship-board in the first English voyage thither, in going up only from the cabins to the hatches, had their breath so congealed by the cold, that they fell down as it were stifled." The best commentary to the genius of a people is a visit to the scenery encompassed l?y which they are born and trained. For instance, the mighty gloom of the Hartz Mountains, in Germany ; the robber castles towering over the Rhine ; the impressive remains of antique power scattered profusely over plain, hill, and forest ; the thousand commingled associations rife in every scene ; the imperial Roman, the furious Goth, the graceful cavaliers of feudal limes, and the thrilling con- ceptions of an ideal world long anterior to them all, have alike their record and impulse to the student pilgrim, wandering, or at rest, and stamp their indelible features on all the youth of the land. The tendency of wild, broken districts, darkened by mountains and savage forests, to raise in the mind those ideas of solemn, preternatural awe, which are the stamina of the most vigorous eloquence, and the adornment of the best poetry, has been noticed from the earliest ages. " Where is a lofty, and deeply-shaded grove," writes Seneca in one of his epistles, " filled with venerable trees, whose interlacing boughs shut out the face of heaven, the grandeur of the wood, the silence of the place, the shade so dense and uniform, infuse into the breast the notion of a divinity ;" and thus the ancients, struck with the living magnificence of nature, which they could not 4 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. understand, peopled each grove, fountain, or grotto, with some local genius, or god. We shall refer more fully to this point, when we come to speak of the preparatory discipline which fitted Mr. Webster for effective public life. At present we only glance at the circumstances attending his birth which were calculated nobly to im- bue his character and develop its worth. He arose where the two great elements of the universe, beauty and sublimity, are most palpably revealed in the Swit- zerland of America. It was fitting tha-t our greatest statesman should there meet his first struggles, and learn his first lore in the home of virtuous industry, surrounded by scenery so grand. God made the human soul illus- trious, and designed it for exalted pursuits and a glorious destiny. To expand our finite faculties, and afford them a culture both profound and elevating, Nature is spread around us, with all its stupendous proportions, and Divine Revelation speaks to us of an eternal augmenta- tion of knowledge hereafter, for weal or woe. Above, beneath, and around us, open the avenues of infinite pro- gression, through which we must forever advance without pause, and expand in capacity without limit. Here, on this dim arena of earth, an immortal essence throbs at our heart in harmony with the infinite and eternal. The day-star of thought arises on the soul, and, with our first rational exercise, begins an existence which may expe- rience many vicissitudes, may pass through many tran- sitions, but can never terminate. The soul, vivified with power to think, will outlive the universe which feeds its thought, and will be still practising its juvenile excursions at the mere outset of its opening career, DANIEL WEBSTER. 5 while suns and systems, shorn of their glories, shall sink, in shattered ruins, to the caverns of eternal oblivion But the soul of man, u Vital in every part, Cannot, but by annihilation, die." Its two great faculties, correspondent to the two great natural elements mentioned above the capacity to perceive the beautiful, and feel the sublime are at once the products and proofs of our immortality. They in- dicate endowments which it is bliss to improve, .and a destiny which it will be fearful indeed to neglect. Dr. Clarke thought that the lofty genius of Alexan- der was nourished by the majestic presence of Mount Olympus, under the shadow of which he may be said to have been born and bred. If grand natural scenery tends permanently to affect the character of those cradled on its bosom, we need not wonder that New Hampshire is the nursery of patriotism the most firm, and eloquence the most sublime. Elastic as the air they breathe, free and joyous as the torrents that dash through their rural possessions, strong as the granite hills from the scanty soil of which they wring a hardy livelihood, her enterprising sons, noble and high-minded by natural endowment, are like the glorious regions oi rugged adventure they love to occupy. This is an uui- veral rule. The Foulahs dwelling on the high Alps of Africa, are as superior to the tribes living beneath, as the natives of Cashmere are above the Hindoos, or as the Tyrolese are nobler than the Arab race. The cha- racter of individuals and of nations is in a great mea- 6 LI\ING ORATORS IN AMERICA. sure influenced by their local position, circumstances of climate and education, popular traditions, and the scenery in the midst of which they arise. Popular manners and mental characteristics harmonize with the external objects with which they are surrounded. The transition from the monotonous plains of Lombardy to the bod precipices of Switzerland is, in physical nature, exactly like that, in moral character, from the crouching and squalid appearance of the brutalized peasant, to the independent air and indomitable energy of the free-born and intelligent mountaineer. The athletic form and fearless eye of the latter bespeak the freedom he has won to perpetuate and enjoy, the invigorating elements he buffets in hardy toil, and the daring aspirations he is fearless and fervid to indulge. We proceed, secondly, to trace the youthful discipline which prepared Mr. Webster for the functions of public life. In the wild and uncultivated region where he was born, and in that age of savage warfare, it cannot be supposed that many facilities existed for procuring a re- fined education. But, ever since the first free school was established on the wilderness-covered peninsula of Boston, in 1636, New England schoolmasters have everywhere kept pace with the woodman in pioneering the progress of civilized life. Fortunately, the school found Mr. Webster in the wilderness, elicited his. intel- lectual powers, and gave direction to his splendid career. Had it not been for the wise policy of our fathers, in opening free instruction to all classes on their domain, this master-mind of New England would probably have lain dormant and unknown to the present hour. This i DANIEL. WEBSTER. 7 fact he seems himself ever to have felt, as we may infer from the remarks which, in the maturity of his greatness, he made in the Convention of Massachusetts, when, in reference to popular education, he said : " In this particular, we may be allowed to claim a merit of a very high and peculiar character. This commonwealth, with other of the New England States, early adopted, and has constantly maintained, the prin- ciple, that it is the undoubted right, and the bounden duty of government, to provide for the instruction of all youth. That which is elsewhere left to chance, or to charity, we secure by law. For the purpose of public instruction, we hold every man subject to taxation, in proportion to his property, and we look not to the ques- tion, whether he, himself, have, or have not children to be benefitted by the education for which he pays. We regard it as a wise and liberal system of police, by which property, and life, and the peace of society are secured. We seek lo prevent, in some measure, the extension of the penal code, by inspiring a salutary and conservative principle of virtue, and of knowledge, in an early age. We hope to excite a feeling of respectability, and a sense of character, by enlarging the capacity, and in- creasing the sphere of intellectual enjoyment. By general instruction, we seek, as far as possible, to purify the whole moral atmosphere ; to keep good sentiments uppermost, and to turn the strong current of feeling and opinion, as well as the censures of the law, and the denunciations of religion against immorality and crime. We hope for a security beyond the law, and above the law, in the prevalence of enlightened and well-prin- 8 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. cipled moral sentiment. We hope to continue and to prolong the time, when, in the villages and farm-houses of New England, there may be undisturbed sleep, within unbarred doors. And knowing that our govern- ment rests directly on the public will, that we may pre- serve it, we endeavor to give a safe and proper direction to that public will. We do not, indeed, expect all men to be philosophers, or statesmen ; but we confidently trust, and our expectation of the duration of our system of government rests on that trust, that by the diffusion of general knowledge, and good and virtuous sentiments, the political fabric may be secure, as well against open violence and overthrow, as against the slow but sure undermining of licentiousness." "I rejoice, Sir, that every man in this community may call all property his own, so far as he has occasion for it, to furnish for himself and his children the bless- ings of religious instruction, and the elements of know- ledge. This celestial and this earthly light he is entitled to by the fundamental laws. It is every poor man's undoubted birth-right, it is the great blessing which this Constitution has secured to him, it is his solace in life, and it may well be his consolation in death, that his country stands pledged, by the faith which it has plighted to all its citizens, to protect his children from ignorance, barbarism, and vice." When sixteen years old, after a very imperfect prepa- ration, he entered Dartmouth College, and graduated there in 1801. The industry of his pursuits, and the tokens he gave of coming fame, we shall notice here- after. DANIEL WEBSTER. 9 Mr. Webster finished the study of his profession in Boston, and was there admitted to the bar in 18Q5. Mr. Gore, in whose office he had read law, ven- tured, on presenting him, to make a prediction to the court respecting his pupil's future eminence, which, san- guine as it was, all the world knows has been more than fulfilled. His first practice in his profession was in Boscawen, a small village near the place of his birth ; but in 1807, he removed to Portsmouth, where he strug- gled for some time, was finally burned out, and moved to Boston, with the hope of bettering his fortunes. Up to this period, his perpetual strife with penury, obscurity, and misfortune, was no holiday work. Let us inquire into the effects produced by severe and pro- tracted discipline upon his mental character and public influence. The circumstances of his family compelled him to rely on his own exertions mainly for support. The labors he performed, and the sacrifices to which he submitted, for the sake of his own and a brother's edu- cation, are said to be among the most remarkable achievements of even his remarkable life. It would seem as if he was determined to act for himself, as he advised the government to act in reference to the war of 1812; " if need be, to accompany your own flag throughout the world, with the protection of your own cannon" The first thing to be remarked under this head, is, that as a student, Mr. Webster was exceedingly dili- gent. One of his classmates has attested with the live- liest interest to the generous and magnanimous spirit he showed among his early competitors, in the midst of 1* 10 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. whom, he at the outset manifested aspirations entirely beyond his condition, and which soon enabled him to leave all rivalship far in his rear. He possessed too much native force to rely implicitly on any master, but at the same time profited by all the resources the most diligent study could command, and wrought them into his own type of excellence, as Michael Angelo broke the marble with his chisel, and thence elicited the ideal colossus first projected within his own soul. Said that great sculptor to a promising pupil, " Learn to sketch before you attempt to finish." This was Webster's practice. He incessantly cultivated the habit of distinct conception, and clearly defined thought in diversified composition. The greatest faculties are much more freqently "evaporated in indolence than in exertion ; while it is the latter only that confers true happiness, and guarantees permanent success. The luxury which young genius enjoys in contemplating its own outlines vigorously conceived, creates the strongest passion for elaborated execution, and prompts to the most untiring efforts after a graceful finish of its own magnificent plans. Another important matter to mention under this head is, that Mr. Webster has always labored to attain a manly, as well as a mental education. Milton said : "I call a complete and generous education that which fits a man to perform justly, skillfully, and magnanimously, all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war." This is comprehensive, and as a general defini- tion, is as good as any that can be given. To educate is to develop ; not to make one man all DANIEL WEBSTER. H Latin, another all mathematics ; it is to unfold a man indeed, himself all developed. A pupil is educated when he is made a hero in his own individuality ; a soul powerful in acts, fruitful in grand results ; an adult in intellect, a rational creature well trained, who will, who can, who does. One of the renowned philosophers of antiquity beau- tifully said of the intellectual faculties, " I call them not mine but me. It is these which make the man ; which are the man." Now, that system of education which most effectually reaches the latent powers of mankind, and brings them out in vigorous discipline, is the most manly and the best. Men are valuable, not in propor- tion to what they know, but to what they can do. Every.youth has a can do in him. It is the office of education to reach that, and impart to it the potency of practical exercise. The versatile pen, the delicate pen- cil, the creative chisel, and the eloquent tongue seem wonderful to one contemplating their facility and power. But everything about them is perfectly simple and easy to him who possesses and has cultivated his own can do. The process by which an efficient education is attain- ed, is not the tame passivity of the pupil to pedantic dogmatizings. " How many young men," said Cole- ridge, "are anxiously and expensively be-schoolmas- tered, be-tutored, be-lectured, anything but educated; who have received arms and amunition, instead of skill, strength, and courage ; varnished rather than polished ; perilously over-civilized, and most pitiably uncultivated. And all from inattention to the method dictated by na- ture herself, to the simple truth, tjiat as the forms of all 12 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. organized existence, so must all true and living know- ledge, proceed from within ; that it may be trained, sup- ported, fed, excited, but can never be infused nor im- pressed." This is a luminous statement of what we should never forget. We are not to shape the mind by external pressure, paint it over with artificial hues, or mechanize its powers ; but to start its germs by genial teaching, and prompt its natural and majestic growth from the centre outward, as the acorn expands into an oak. The main thing is to awaken the principle and method of self-development, not so much by conveying information into the mind as to invigorate in it the power of send- ing thought out. The human soul is not a mere dep6t, a passive receptacle for all sorts of trumpery that may therein be stowed by the arbitrary will of some mental baggage-master; but it is a living and self- producing agent, which is to be carefully "placed in such relations to appropriate aliment, as to excite the latent, original power that craves only such knowledge as it can appro- priate to itself, and can re-produce in shapes and excel- lence all its own. Now to attain this end, due attention must be paid to our physical, mental, and moral culture. First of all, good heed must be given to the education of the body ; a kind of cultivation as imperious as any other, since the body is as susceptible of improvement as the mind. Our person, with all its complicated and diversified faculties, physical and mental, is an unit, ar.d does not admit of being developed in fragments. Man must grow up harmoniously, if he would rise to useful- ness, with simultaneous expansion in trunk, branch an^ DANIEL WEBSTER. 13 foliage, as grows a tree ; the sap of immortal energy must circulate without hindrance in every fibre, matur- ing fruits perennial and divine. Two laws are manifest in the constitution of our na- ture, a due regard to which cannot but conduce to our welfare and elevate our conceptions of the Supreme BEING. In the first place, in proportion as the physical nature of a man is healthfully developed by suitable dis- cipline, winning the greatest vigor of limb, and the great- est acuteness of sense, he will derive important aids to the intellect and moral powers from the perfections of his outward frame. Moreover, by a delightful re-action, the mind, in proportion as it is invigorated and beauti- fied, gives strength and elegance to the body, and en- larges the sphere of action and enjoyment. These laws have been recognized and observed by the best educa- tors of the world. At Athens, the gymnasia became temples of the Graces. They were not merely places of exercise for the young, but drew to their halls, porti- coes, baths, and groves, the most distinguished votaries of every art and science. The scenes of this kind most celebrated were the Academy where Plato taught, the Lyceum where Aristotle lectured, and the Kynosargy. In these the refined Greek could gratify his fondness for the beautiful, by the sight of the finest figures, in the prime of youth, exercising amidst objects and associa- tions of the greatest elegance. Surrounded on every hand by the combined charms of nature and art, the young men were seen exhilarated with athletic sports, and the old imparting wisdom in the presence of the most splendid ideal forms. Then and there physical 14 LIVING ORATOK8 IN AMERICA. education began with life and constantly augmented its force. Every festival of childhood was made enchant- ing with flowers and music ; the barge, as it was pushed in boyish sport on the lake, was crowded with garlands ; the oars were moved to the sound of " sweet recorders," and the patriotic mother at home sang an inspiring lul- laby, as she rocked her infant to sleep in the broad shield of its father. There were wrestlings in the open palaes- tra, as well as races and heroic games ; there were gay revels on the mountain sides, and moonlight dances in the groves. The field of Olympia was to the Greeks the most sa- cred enclosure of the gods. The games thereon prac- ticed, among other uses, promoted manly education, by teaching that the body has its honors as well as the in- tellect. They felt that vast importance belongs to phy- sical agility and strength, not only that the mind may be thus aided in energetic action, but that a firm basis be laid in a sound body for the exercise of manly vir- tues. Without physical vigor, the feeble flickerings of the mind are only " a gilded halo hovering round decay.'' The national games described in the twenty-fourth book of the Iliad, the eighth of the Odyssey, and by Virgil in the fifth book of the ./Eneid, all relate to important elements in a manly education. Those ancient festi- vals had the finest influence upon the inhabitants of the metropolis, and upon those who dwelt the most remote. Every pilgrim through such lands, to such shrines, be- came Briareus-handed and Argus-eyed : the beautiful scenes, full of patriotic and refined associations which DANIEL WEBSTER. 15 everywhere arrested his attention, gave him the travel- ler's "thirsty eye," filled his mind with thrilling reminis- cences, and caused him to return to his home glowing with brilliant descriptions and burdened with exalted thoughts. It was thus that the youthful Greek mingled with his studies pedestrian exercise and acute observa- tion, formed his body to fatigue, while he stored his mind with lofty ideas, and became equally skilled in handling a sword, building a temple, or subduing a horse. In the festival of the Panathenaea, as the name im- ports, all the people of Attica engaged in the celebration, wearing their chaplets of flowers. The sports began early in the morning, with races on the banks of the II- lissus, in which the sons of the most distinguished citi- zens contended for the palm. Next came the wrestling and gymnastic contests in the Stadium, succeeded by still more refined competitions in the Odeum, where the most exquisite musicians executed rival pieces on the flute or cithara, while others sang and accompanied their voices with the sweetest instruments. The theme present- ed to the competitors was the eulogy of Hermodius, Aristo- geiton, and Thrasybulus, who had rescued the republic from the yoke of tyranny. Thus the popular pastimes of the Athenians tended to commemorate the patriots who had served their country, as well as to excite the spectators to an emulation of their virtues. Painters exhibited the fruits of their skill ; sculptors adorned the road-side, the groves, and the temples of the gods ; poets contended for the dramatic prize, each being allowed to 16 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. produce four pieces ; and the eloquence of history fired with rapture thousands of exulting hearts. The procession to the temple of Pythian Apollo, which closed the day with religious rites, was composed of dif- ferent classes of citizens, adorned with garlands, among whom were seen old men of majestic mien, bearing branches of olive ; others of middle age, armed with lances and bucklers as if ready to engage in war ; youths, who sang hymns in honor of Minerva ; beauti- ful boys, clad in a graceful tunic ; and lastly girls, se- lected from the first families in Athens, attracting every eye by their unequalled charms. At night there was a torch-race of the most agile youth, stationed at equal distances, the first of whom, on a signal given by the shout of the multitude, lighted his flambeau at the altar of Prometheus, and at the top of his speed handed it to the second, who trasmitted it in the same manner to the third, and so on in rapid succession to the last. He who suffered his torch to be extinguished was excluded from the lists, and they who slackened in their pace were exposed to the railleries and blows of the populace. It was necessary to pass through all the stations with success, in order to gain the prize. How hard it is to over-estimate the amount of vigor, bodily and mental, which was won from such chaste and in- tpiring recreations ! The ludicrous remark of Frederick the Great, that man " seems more adapted by nature for a postillion than a philosopher," is not without foundation ; but there is no necessary incompatibility between great mental activity and habitual good health, provided proper atten- DANIEL WEBSTER. 17 tion is paid to physical culture. The old maxim that " all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," is quite true. There is health of mind in innocent hilarity. There is health in bodily sports which combine ani- mated exercise with amusement. There is health of soul in the contemplation of nature, when he who con- templates, adores, and early learns to " look through na- ture up to nature's GOD." The benefit of moderate ex- citement is often very great on the moral constitution and physical frame, and should be temperately indulged in by all, according to the predispositions of each. Some inherit a passion for the gun, and others for the angle ; some are fond of equestrian excursions, while others love to foot it along the quiet shores of lakes, and on sublime mountain tops. Shakspeare gave us a maxim of wisdom in literary pursuits, when he said, " Study what you most affect ;" and in our recreations we should pursue what is most congenial to native tastes. Hard study should be succeeded by hardy exercise in some appropriate form. The foot-ball at Rugby, and the regatta at Eaton, bowling at Harrow, and cricket at Westminster, succeeded by all those invigorating exer- cises in constant practice at Oxford and Cambridge, give lo England the most elegant and able-bodied scholars in the world. But vigorous mental development is a prime quality in a manly education. Man is not all soul, therefore he is not conditioned as an angel ; neither is he all body, and for this reason he cannot with impunity live as a brute. We have sensibilities as well as senses, spirit as well as flesh. We are a compound of earth and heaven ; 18 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. dust tempered with tears, and quickened with a spark unquenchable ; a spirit exiled in a prison of clay, and both tenant and tabernacle must be cared for. It is ignoble to be, like a wild hunter, all exercise and no thought ; it is equally suicidal to dignified excellence to be, like too many votaries of science, all thought and no exercise. A sound mind in a sound body was long since deemed the great desideratum ; and this we should be most strenuous to attain. To be successful, we must " be in eye of every exercise." We must feel that it is belter to have a reed that will do us some service than a pike that we have neither the strength nor skill to heave : " Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven ; the fated sky Gives us free scope ; only doth backward pull Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull." One must not only be a zealous worshipper of know- ledge, but he must learn to pluck the fruit fresh from the tree with a vigorous hand. He must be a devout and active student in the great university of nature, where one can gather materials such as dogmatism and " dried preparations" never afford. Careful scrutiny of the world and profound meditation constitute the most an- cient and infallible road to the soundest learning; he who pursues his manly career therein, will not be of that feeble class whose listless hand "hangs like dead bone within its withered skin," but vigorously will he grow, refreshed by the purest fountains, and enriched with the most valuable stores. Deep and passionate love of DANIEL WEBSTER. 19 knowledge for its own sake indicates the soul of true scholarship. This is the sun of the heaven within us, around which the elements of our mental being gathei in delightful harmony and concentrate their force. Warmed into action by this luminary, and transfigured by its beams, the mind goes forth in action like the son of Tydeus, with glory blazing round it, kindling aston- ishment and emulous delight. The grand object of schooling is never attained until all the priceless powers of our nature are quickened and fortified by the true, the beautiful, the good and the grand; until each faculty, in its own place and proportion, is thoroughly trained, and our physical and mental energies are moulded to a sym- metrical whole, of the purest, holiest and most enchant- ing harmony. Education is soul-excitement, and that is the best dis- cipline for spiritual faculties which most effectually stim- ulates their growth, moulds their awakening energies, elicits and augments their strength. The main ques- tion is not what will make youth pedants, or bigots, or partisans, but what will make them men ? This will demand concentration of purpose and liberality of feel- ing. Concentration is essential to profitable acquisition. The stream, divided into many channels, ceases to flow either deep or strong. To waste one's strength in fri- volous endeavors is to covet the transient dazzle of an exploded rocket, rather than the perpetual blaze of the unquenchable sun. Many men of great natural capa- cities, for want of persevering fixedness of purpose, are utterly lost to the world; men whose intellect is emi- 20 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. nently original and creative, competent under suitable discipline to upraise 41 A WILDERNESS of building, sinking far, And self-withdrawn into a wondrous depth, Far sinking into splendor, without end." Unfortunately, however, for themselves and the world, too many neglect wholesome training, and supinely waste their fine energies in "one long day of summer indo- lence." But mental action cannot be intense unless all the faculties are made to play within a narrow range. The electric fluid is as impotent as the unbounded air it sleeps in, until concentrated in a thunder-cloud. Nature has closely confined the muscles in our frame, in order to give them the highest degree of power in combined action ; and in the same way our spiritual capacities, to attain their full force, must be brought to bear on a single point, and work within exclusive limits. It is ne- cessary that even solar heat should be converged to a focus of ten thousand beams ere it will burn. Education is not an abstract theory, a lifeless creed, stored away in the torpid brain like obsolete relics de- posited on musty shelves; it is concrete power, generat- ed by the collision of great truths and vital principles, as lightning is elicited by the contact of opposing clouds, and must be brought to bear with instantaneous and ir- resistible fulminations on the intellect and heart of man- kind. Now the source and secret of this master endow- ment is generosity of feeling. Its possessor will seek knowledge and influence, not for personal aggrandize- ment, but for the public good. He is not of that dry, DANIEL WEBSTER. 21 phlegmatic and miserable class of professed scholars, "plunged to *he hilt in musty tomes, and rusted in," who industriously accumulate their petty stores, and are for- ever " bristling up with small facts," but who labor only for self, and consequently win only contempt. An old author has said that "we fatten a sheep with grass, not in order to obtain a crop of hay from his back, but in the hope he will feed us with mutton, and clothe us with wool." We should replenish the mind with sound principles, and seek the discipline of severe study, in or- der more successfully to conquer the chicanery of the bar, the sophistry of the senate, the stupidity of the pulpit, and the sinfulness of the world. Education is the armor of the mind ; but that armor will be worse than none if it be inflexible from rust, or too ponderous for the wearer's use. The professed man of letters, who constantly acquires and yet never has the force of genius to produce, acts the ridiculous part of an architect who never executes a plan, or a sculptor who never clips a stone. Of all idjers he is the most contemptible who fritters away tal- ent and existence under such professions. What use is it to be forever familiarizing one's self with books, those " monuments of vanished minds," as D'Avenant well called them, and yet never be vivified with an original thought. This is to resemble Pharaoh's lean kine, con- stantly eating and constantly poor, rather than the more, useful worm that spins from its own bowels the robes of grandest monarchs, transforming every leaf it eats into resplendent and practical usefulness. In national armo- ries we sometimes see large quantities of martial imple- 22 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. ments curiously arranged in fantastic forms. How much more impressive they would be if seen glittering in quick- motion on the field, and how much more potent would be their use when grasped by well-disciplijred legions, rushing to the final charge. A single weapon wielded by a chivalrous and resolute hero would be more effect- ive than the holyday show of all the martial weapons in repose on earth. We have mentioned two prominent traits in the early discipline practiced by Mr. Webster, severe mental toil accompanied with vigorous physical exercise. It is im- portant to remark, thirdly, that while he was thus dili- gent in mastering knowledge and acquiring strength of every kind, he was equally critical and constant in watching the conduct of the wise, and in emulating the best professional models. We have been told that, for years before he became distinguished at the bar, and long afterwards, he was constant in his attendance on all business, with his note-book before him, listening at- tentively to the best counsel, and writing down carefully every sagacious remark from the bench. It is a great advantage and auspicious omen for a young man, quiet- ly to listen to his superiors, while in doing so he delibe- rately resolves to emulate their excellence, and, if possi- ble, exceed them in both power and speed. At an early day, Mr. Webster formed the habit of .thinking with a pen in his hand, and of inscribing his thought before him, in the simplest and most perspicu- ous form ; in this way, he acquired a wonderful facility in conceiving and expressing his ideas in the most lumi- nous and forcible style. He may have learned from DANIEL WEBSTER. 23 Aristotle, that, of the four elements of education, design is to be placed on a level with grammar. At any rate, more than any other orator living, probably, he has al- ways been most studious. of clearness and accuracy in constructing the basis and outlines of his discourse. Il was thus, that from the beginning he cultivated correct habits of thought, perpetually subdued himself to philoso phical propriety and critical analysis, reined in his mor$ impetuous faculties, made reason supreme, and combined elaborated meditation with logical truth. This spirit of grand conception, habitual research, and fervid enthusi- asm, ambitious only for the execution of loftiest pur- poses, is the sure prognostic of consummate excellence, and the only foundation for lasting fame. The great architect and adorner of the Parthenon possessed it, and hence, " Nothing is more perfect than Phidias," says Cicero: " You cannot praise him enough," says Pliny: " He made gods better than men," says Quintilian; the secret of all which capacity and worth is stated by Plato who testifies that " Phidias was skillful in beauty." AK though he executed figures of the most exalted beings only, and these in gigantic forms, every feature and limb were invested with dignified splendor, because he always wrought in the most valuable materials, accord- ing to the strictest rules and with the greatest care. Thus disciplined, we cannot wonder that his law- teacher prophesied for young Webster great success, and that at a subsequent period, in noticing his transla- tion to the highest American forum, the Boston Courier should say : " The election has placed in the Senate of the United Stages a man who will ably defend the mea- 24 LIVING ORATORS IN AMEBICA. sures ot the National Administration, so far as they can be justified by a liberal construction of the Constitution, and tend to promote the prosperity of the whole coun- try/' This brings us to our Third general point, viz., a sketch of Mr. Webster's professional career. " Great wits in every age," says Lord Bacon, " have been overborne, and in a sort, tyranized over ; whilst men of capacity and comprehen- sion above the vulgar, (yet consulting their own credit and reputation..) have submitted themselves to the over- swaying judgment of time and multitude. Therefore, if in any time and place, more profound contemplations have perchance emerged and revealed themselves, they have been forthwith lost and extinguished by the winds and tempests of* popular opinions." This will hardly apply to our statesman-orator, who has the more tri- umphantly succeeded, because from the beginning he never designed to raise a splendid structure on a quick- sand, but on a solid foundation, acquired by habitual precision of thought, fixedness of purpose, and indomita- ble energy of pursuit. From the time he moved to Portsmouth, in 1807, his career was a steady advance towards the highest functions and the widest influence. The wisest judge in the State, the late Gov. Smith, and the strongest lawyer, Mr. Mason, recently deceased, ivere his professional rivals and admiring friends. Called in early, manhood to antagonize with veterans of ihe amplest resources, and of the quickest penetration ; he battled bravely with men whose comprehensive men- tal grasp, rigid logic, and apt illustration, left no safety or hope, to their young adversary, but in equal vigor, DANIEL WEBSTER. 25 industry, and skill. In this wholesome school of severe and rugged professional practice, Mr. Webster doubt- less acquired much of that intellectual training and power, which subsequently rendered him greatly supe- rior to most advocates, and inferior to none. His first political office was the one to which he was elected in 1812, when he was hardly thirty years old, as a member of the thirteenth Congress of the United States. Among the debates in which he distinguished himself, the bill for "encouraging enlistments," in Janu- ary, 1814, drew from him a highly patriotic speech, of which the following is an extract : " The humble aid which it would be in my power to render to measures of government, shall be given cheer- fully, if government will pursue measures which I can conscientiously support. If, even now, failing in an honest and sincere attempt to procure- a just and honor- able peace, it will return to measures of defence and protection, such as reason, and common sense, and the public opinion, all call for, my vote shall not be with- holden from the means. Give up your futile projects of invasion. Extinguish the fires that blaze on your in- land frontiers. Establish perfect safety and defence there by adequate force. Let every man that sleeps on your soil sleep in security. Stop* the blood that flows from the veins of unarmed yeomanry, and women and children. Give to the living time to bury and lament their dead, in the quietness of private sorrow. Having performed this work of beneficence and mercy on your inland border, turn and look with the eye of justice and compassion on your vast population along the coast. 26 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. Unclench the iron grasp of your embargo. Take mea- sures for that end, before another sun sets upon you. With all the war of the enemy on your commerce, if you would cease to make war upon it yourselves, you would still have some commerce. That commerce would give you some revenue. Apply that revenue to the augmentation of your navy. That navy, in turn, will protect your commerce. Let it no longer be said, that not one ship of force, built by your hands since the war, yet floats upon the ocean. Turn the current of your efforts into the channel, which national sentiment has already worn broad and deep to receive it. A naval force, competent to defend your coast against consider- able armaments, to convoy your trade, and perhaps raise the blockade of your rivers, is'not a chimera. It may be realized. If, then, the war must continue, go to the ocean. If you are seriously contending for maritime rights, go to the theatre where alone those rights can be defended. Thither every indication of your fortunes points you. There the united wishes and exertions of the nation will go with you. Even our party divisions, acrimonious as they are, cease at the water's edge. They are lost in attachment to the national character, on the element where that character is made respectable. In protecting naval interests by naval means, you will arm yourselves with the whole power of national senti- ment, and may command the whole abundance of the national resource. In time you may be enabled to re- dress injuries in the place where they may be offered ; and, if need be, to accompany your own flag throughout the world with the protection of your own cannon." DANIEL WEBSTER. 27 Later, in the same Congress, he contributed very much to the establishment of a sound currency, by the over- throw of the paper-bank system. He was re-elected to New Hampshire for the fourteenth Congress, and sat there during the sessions of 1815-16, and 1816-17. It was during this period that he introduced and carried a Resolution, still a part of the law of the United States, the effect of which was to require the revenue to be re- ceived only in the legal currency of the country, or in bills equal to that currency in value. His income at Portsmouth being insufficient to repair the heavy loss he had sustained in the great fire of 1813, Mr. Webster now retired for a season from public life, and, in 1816, removed to Boston, in search of wider practice in his profession and ampler revenues. For six or eight years, he refused to accept office, avoided all political discussion, and gave his entire energies to the business of the bar. He had now distinguished himself as a lawyer in Massachusetts, as well as in his native State, and two terms in Congress had caused him to be widely known as a distinguished statesman, young as he was. But the hour now cajne, when his rank as a jurist, was to be no less clearly determined and widely pro- claimed. On the 10th of March, 1818, before the Su- preme Court of the United States, at Washington, he made his argument in behalf of Dartmouth College. It is said the court-room was excessively crowded, not only with a large assemblage of the most eminent law- yers of the Union, but with many of its leading states- men, drawn there no less by the importance of the cause, and the wide results that would follow its decision, 28 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. than by the known eloquence of Mr. Hopkinson and Mr. Wirt, both of whom were engaged in it. Mr. Webster opened the discussion, on behalf of the college. A spectator describes the scene as follows. " He opened his cause, as he always does, with perfect simplicity in the general statement of its facts ; and then went on to unfold the topics of his argument, in a lucid order, which made each position sustain every other. The logic and the law were rendered irresistible. But, as he advanced; his heart warmed to the subject and the occa- sion. Thoughts and feelings, that had grown old with his best affections, rose unbidden to his lips. He re- membered that the institution he was defending, was the one where his own youth had been nurtured ; and the moral tenderness and beauty this gave to the grandeur of his thoughts; the sort of religious sensibility it im- parted to his urgent appeals and demands for the stern fulfilment of what law and justice required, wrought up the whole audience to an extraordinary state of excite- ment. Many betrayed strong agitation ; many were dissolved in tears. When he ceased to speak, there was a perceptible interval before any one was willing to break the silence ; and, when that vast crowd separated, not one person of the whole number doubted, that the man who had that day so moved, astonished, and con- trolled them, had vindicated for himself a place at the side of the first jurists of the country." The Massachusetts Reports, and the Reports in the Circuit and Supreme Courts of the United States, show that at this period, Mr. Webster's professional labors and success were very great. But his fame and usefulness DANIEL WEBSTER. 29 were not confined to the bar. In 1820-21, a convention of delegates was assembled in Boston, to revise the consti- tution of Massachusetts. The venerable John Adams, then eighty-five years old, represented his native vil- lage; Justice Story, of the Supreme Court of the United States, was a delegate from Salem; Judge Davis, of the District Court of the United States, and the majority of the judicial officers and most influential citizens of the State were there. It was the most dignified and talented assembly ever collected in New England, in which Mr. Webster bore a distinguished part. Of his eloquence developed therein, we shall speak in the sequel. The people of Boston repeatedly urged that such talents and acquirements as Mr. Webster possessed, should again be in the service of the whole country. He had already declined an offer of a seat in the Senate, but, in 1822, he accepted a seat as their Representative in Congress. His labors in the years 1823-4, and his great work of digesting and causing to be adopted the Crimes Act in 1825, can now be referred to only. In 1826, by a very large majority of both houses in the Legislature of Massachusetts, he was chosen to fill a va- cancy in the Senate of the United States. Of his career in that body, and of his great diplomatic services re- cently performed, it would be superfluous to give details, as they are all before the world, highly appreciated and everywhere known. We shall have occasion to recur to several of them, while we proceed. Fourthly, to portray some of the chief features of Mr. Webster's eloquence. We think that distinct percep- tion, accurate combination, severe deduction, and forci- 30 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. ble illustration, are the chief elements blended in his composition, which we will endeavor to verify by specific analysis, and pertinent examples from his social addresses, congressional speeches, literary productions, and forensic arguments. In the first place, let us consider Mr. Webster's dis- tinctness of mental perception. All qualities of orato- rical excellence concur in this one elemental principle, as a focal-point clearness of insight, and facility of execution. No excellence of finish can atone for mean- ness of design ; and he alone can conceive vividly and compose effectively, who sees thg whole of his work before him at the beginning. Mr. Webster's mind is one of that rare class which aspires to the serenest heights, expatiates over the widest and most diversified domain, embracing at once the two poles of human intelligence, imagination the most imperial, and science the most exact. Of perhaps the greatest living French savan and orator, whom our countryman in physical and mental character much resembles, Vericour has said, " Unlike many orators who will speak on all subjects, M. Arago only speaks on subjects that he has studied questions possessing either the interest of political circumstances, or the attraction of science. When he ascends the tri- bune, his noble figure and fine head awe the assembly into attention. If he confines himself to the narration of facts, his eloquence has the natural grace of simpli- city ; when face to face with a question of paramount importance to the liberty of his country, or with one of science, whether in the Chamber or in the professional chair, he contemplates his subject with earnestness, DANIEL WEBSTER. 31 unravels its subtleties, and evinces a power of com- prehension and elucidation which bespeaks the superior mind; proceeding, he begins to employ a splendid phra- seology his voice swells his style grows richer and richer, and his eloquence rises to the grandeur of his theme. M. Arago's speeches have both generality and actuality ; they equally address themselves to the intel- ligence and passions of his audience; when he enters upon any question or matter, whether scientific or poli- tical, he clears it of its difficulties and technicalities, and renders it so precise and perceptible, that the most igno- rant and dull are enabled to comprehend it. He is one of the most luminous intellects of the age." This strikingly describes Mr. Webster's mental struc- ture and habits, inasmuch as sublimity of conception, grandeur of outline, breadth of meaning, and a severe classical tone, are the most habitual features of his style, always mighty, and often quite elegant. For instance, in Nov., 1828, he was called upon to open the course of Lectures before the Boston Mechanics' Institution, and surprised all by his profound knowledge of art the most useful and severely grand : " Architecture, I have said, is an art that unites, in a singular manner, the useful and the beautiful. It is not to be inferred from this, that everything in architecture is beautiful, or is to be so esteemed, in exact proportion to its apparent utility. No more is meant, than that nothing which evidently thwarts utility, can, or ought to be accounted beautiful ; because, in every work cf art, the design is to be re- garded, and what defeats that design, cannot be con- sidered as well done. The French rhetoricians have a 32 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. maxim, that in literary composition, " nothing is beauti- ful which is not true." They do not intend to say, thai strict and literal truth is alone beautiful in poetry or oratory ; but they mean that that which grossly offends against probability is not in good taste in either. The same relation subsists between beauty and utility in architecture, as between truth and imagination in poetry. Utility is not to be obviously sacrificed to beauty, in the one case ; truth and probability are not to be outraged for the cause of fiction and fancy, in the other. In the severer styles of architecture, beauty and utility ap- proach, so as to be almost identical. Where utility is more strongly than ordinary the main design, the pro- portions which produce it, raise the sense or feeling of beauty, by a sort of reflection or deduction of the mind. It is said that ancient Rome had, perhaps, no finer 'spe- cimens of the classic Doric, than were in the sewers which ran under her streets, and which were, of course, always to be covered from human observation ; so true is it, that cultivated taste is always pleased with justness of proportion ; and that design, seen to be accomplished, gives pleasure. The discovery, and fast increasing use of a noble material, found in vast abundance, nearer to our cities than the Pentelican quarries to Athens, may well awaken, as they do, new attention to architectural improvement. If this material be not entirely well- suited to the elegant Ionic, or the rich Corinthian, it is yet fitted, beyond marble, beyond perhaps almost any other material, for the Doric, of which the appropriate character is strength, and for the Gothic, of which the appropriate character is grandeur. DANIEL WEBSTER. 33 " It is not more than justice, perhaps, to our ances- tors, to call the Gothic the English classic architecture ; for in England, probably, are its most distinguished spe- cimens. As its leading characteristic is grandeur ; its main use would seem to be sacred. It had its origin, indeed,, in ecclesiastical architecture. Its evident design was to surpass the ancient -orders, by the size of the structure, and its far greater heights ; to excite percep- tions of beauty, by the branching traceries and the gor- geous tabernacles within ; and to inspire religious awe and reverence by the lofty pointed arches ; the flying buttresses, the spires, and the pinnacles, springing from beneath, stretching upwards towards the heavens with the prayers of the worshippers. Architectural beauty having always a direct reference to utility, edifices, whether civil or sacred, must of course undergo different changes, in different places, on account of climate, and in different ages, on account of the different states of other arts, or different notions of convenience. The hypacthral temple, for example, or temple without a roof, is not to be thought of in our latitudes ; and the use of glass, a thing not now to be dispensed with, is also to be accommodated, as well as it may be, to the architec- tural structure. These necessary variations, and many more admissible ones, give room for improvements to an indefinite extent, without departing from the princi- ples of true taste. May we not hope, then, to see our own city celebrated as the city of architectural ex- cellence. May we not hope to see our native granite reposing in the ever-during strength of the Doric, or springing up in the grand and lofty Gothic, in forms 2* 34 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. which beauty and utility, the eye and the judgment, taste and devotion, shall unite to approve and to admire?" When a public speaker is left to choose his themes, he will be likely to select such as are genial to his own taste, and analogous to the structure of his intellect. The above instance is an apt illustration. As in archi- tecture, the rule is, that the most beautiful should stand on the most firm, such seems to be the law of Mr. Web- ster's mind. We often meet with works whose vigor of execution can be equalled only by their imbecility and incongruity of conception, but such is not the case with the great master now under review. If we mistake not, the most eminent of all his qualities is a clear percep- tion of what he would do, and the best way of doing it. Having invented his stand-point, he accurately estimates its force, expands its power of persuasiveness through all the projected argument, clothes the compact skeleton with the elasticity and symmetrical charms of vigorous life, and sets forth a perfected work, the organ of sub- limity, not less pleasing to the taste than impressive to the understanding. His chief position, once clearly perceived, and stated in the simplest and most rigid terms, he thenceforth becomes the efficient servant of what he himself created ; as Homer, at the very thresh- old of his epic, proclaims himself only the herald of his Zeus, of whose almighty will he is the free and rejoicing bard. Mr. Webster early won accuracy of view, and confi- dence of hand, by protracted and careful practice, so that he eventually came with great facility to idealize with exactness and power. He waited for the chance reve- DANIEL WEBSTER. 35 lation of no secret in composition, but the secrets of toilsome meditation ; he employed no tricks, but abstruse investigation without limit, *md practical application of his resources without end. For the basis and perpetual momentum of this excellence, we must revert to the circumstances of his youth, and the habits then formed. He found beauty and strength, physical hardihood and mental acuteness as well as force, in the stern visitations of the wintry regions wherein he was born. His soul was indeed ripened under that northern sky. The best blood of all lowlands, at no remote period, came from higher regions, where the hardy and unvitiated mountain influence and elements for ever remain the source of that invincible strength, which bids defiance to all obstacles, and reduces to subjugation every antagonist. There the stupendous forms of creation are in unison with the swelling thoughts of predestined artists, statesmen, and divines, toiling in the ravines, scaling hills, and strug- gling through drifting snows, to reach the rustic school ; and at night studious by the pine-wood flame, while tempests wildly howl without. In such regions, the finest genius is produced and vigorously tempered, like the most brilliant gems in obscurest caverns, and on stormiest coasts ; or rather like sweetest flowers under Alpine glaciers, the more sensitive but enduring as the cold is more severe. Intellect, thus originating, is never fatally chilled, because the latent spirit of enterprise, generated by salubrious air, and the inspiration of sub- lime scenery, tend perpetually to kindle the soul and keep it in a blaze. The mental eye is rendered piercing as lightning, and the brain, nvghtily vitalized, generates 36 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. thunders which burst with simultaneous peals and add grandeur to every celestial stroke. To distinct perception, accurate combination is con- joined, and forms a bold feature in Mr. Webster's mind. Some students begin their career with a theory, beauti- ful, graceful, yet indistinct ; others, with one general and essentially grand without detail, as if attention to mi- nutiae were beneath them ; and others still, with an ambition keen, sagacious, grappling, and on the direct road to sound acquisitions, but lack perseverance in ela- borating and skillfully combining their ideas. They ac- cumulate copious materials, it may be, but where is the solid ground for the machinery of Archimedes? No- thing really powerful is produced, because there is no controlling law positive, clear, and well-defined. Gran- deur of style does not consist in the omission of all de- tails, but in the wise selection and combination of the leading ones. It is only by first ascertaining particulars that are pertinent, that we can discover essentials that are effective. The union of simplicity and variety pro- duces harmony ; while confusion commences where a due blending of these is neglected, or either is allowed too extravagantly to preponderate. In the best style, erudition and illustration are introduced only so far as they can be made subservient to intrinsic excellence and lucid expression. For example, the writer or speaker must obtain a perfect conception of a tree in its entireness, before he proceeds to disentangle its branches or byjojish its leaves. To clear the accidental from the essential, requires the greatest perspicacity of reasoning power, and the habit of perpetually recurring to t^e DANIEL WEBSTER. 37 first principles of things. At every step in the construc- tion of a discourse, knowledge should serve as the basis, judgment as the guide, and cautious taste characterize the selection. In every valuable composition, unity is the soul and key-note ; upon this depends the effective harmony of all subordinate parts, as the tone of the firs' instrument in a concert tunes and governs all the rest This is well exemplified in Mr. Webster, who never suffers the blandishments of his rhetoric to absorb important mean- ing, or supplant logical expression and exactness of form. However succinct and rapid his argument may some- times be, every word is poised by characteristic preci- sion, and can only be the result of deliberate inquiry and minute examination. Every touch of his clear and concentrated mind on the leading points of his subject is a separate thought, each additional one a brighter token of extended genius and predestined triumph. " Artificial life Lives in these touches, livelier than life." As an example, take the close of Mr. Webster's ora- tion, at the laying of the corner stone of the Bunker Hill Monument, June 17, 1825. " An immense multitude was assembled. They stood on the consecrated spot, with only the heavens over their heads, and beneath their feet the bones of their fathers ; amidst the visible remains of the very redoubt thrown up by Prescott, and defended by him to the very last desperate extremity ; and with the names of Warren, Putnam, Stark, and Brooks, and the other leaders or victims of that great day frequent &^ familiar on their lips. In the midst of 38 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. such a scene and with such recollections, starting like the spirits of the dead from the very sods of that hil\. side, it may well be imagined, that words like the fol- lowing, addressed to a vast audience, composed in no small degree of the survivors of the battle, their children and their grand-children, produced an effect, which only the hand of death can efface." Said the orator : "We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most safely deposited in the universal remem- brance of mankind. We know, that if we could cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surfaces could still con- tain but part of that which, in an age of knowledge, hath already been spread over the earth, and which his- tory charges itself with making known to all future times. We know, that no inscription on entablatures less broad than the arth itself, can carry information of the events we commemorate, where it has not already gone : and that no structure, which shall not outlive the duration of letters and knowledge among men, can pro- long the memorial. But our object is, by this edifice, to show our own deep sense of the value and importance of the achievements of our ancestors ; and, by present- ing this work of gratitude to the eye, to keep alive simi lar sentiments, and to foster a constant regard for the principles of the Revolution. Human beings are com- posed not of reason only, but of imagination also, and sentiment ; and that is neither wasted nor misapplied which is appropriated to the purpose of giving right direction to sentiments, and opening proper springs of feeling in the heart. Let it not be supposed that our DANIEL WEBSTER. 39 object is to perpetuate national hostility, or even to cher- ish a mere military spirit. It is higher, purer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the spirit of national inde- pendence, and we wish that the light of peace may rest upon it for ever. We rear a memorial of our convic- tioa of that unmeasured benefit, which has been con- ferred on our own land, and of the happy influences, which have been produced, by the same events, on the general interests of mankind. We come, as Americans, to mark a spot, which must for ever be dear to us and our posterity. We wish, that whosoever, in all coming time, shall turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not undistinguished, where the first great battle of the Revolution was fought. We wish, that this structure may proclaim the magnitude and importance of that event, to every class and every age. We wish, that infancy may learn the purpose of its erection from maternal lips, and that weary and withered age may behold it, and be solaced by the recollections which it suggests. We wish, that labor may look up here, and be proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish, that, in those days of dis- aster, which, as they come on all nations, must be ex- pected to come on us also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward, and be assured that the founda- tions of our national power still stand strong. We wish, that this column, rising towards heaven among the pointed spires of so many temples dedicated to God, may, contribute also to produce, in all minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish, finally, that the last object on the sight of him who leaves his native shore, and the first to gladden his who revisits it, 40 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. may be something which may remind him of the liberty and glory of his country. Let it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming ; let the earliest light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and play on its summit." To distinct perception, and accurate combination, we mention, thirdly, severe deduction, as the most promi- nent trait in Mr. Webster's oratorical character. That speaker will succeed most triumphantly, or fail with greatest dignity, who presents the principal feature of his subject in the boldest manner, to the neglect of all subordinates, rather than he who fritters away all his talent upon secondary topics, and retains little or no capacity to execute the chief. Mr. Webster has pro- duced great excellence in every department of elaborate composition ; but the highest order of logical compact- ness in forensic warfare alone unites his various energies in a glorious aggregate ; as the grace of Nireus, the dignity of Agamemnon, the impetuosity of Hector, the magnitude of the great, the furiousness of the lesser Ajax, the perseverance of Ulysses, and the intrepidity of Diomede, are the emanations of the same transcendant intellect, which in the single person of Achilles, find their splendid centre and perfect embodi- ment. He has written occasional orations of the highest merit, but which seem to have been regarded by their author as unworthy of the severer exercise of his faculties ; like the great -secretary and patriot under Cromwell, who, having thrown on the world the mas- terly production of the greatest genius, continued his labors, as if he had given nothing to mankind as if DA MEL WEBSTER 41 Paradise Lost was a forgotten pamphlet, about which neither he nor any one else need to care. Mr. Webster's eloquence we regard as epic in charac ter, rather than dramatic, lyrical, or historical. It is thai kind which relates to those high and abstract principles which elevate our nature in thought or moral action and which are allied to any power, natural or super-na tural, of elemental or political revolution, the absolute resistance of which is impossible. The highest range which this, the first order of the sublime in speech ever assumes, is when the mind, soaring above the entangle- ments of earth, and vicissitudes of time, defies the de- struction of both, impelled by some all-absorbing affec- tion, noble sentiment, grand public benefit, or great moral principle. Such sublimity is something inde- pendent of material elements ; it is a glory that will sur- vive when these shall melt with fervent heat, and will light the firmament when the sun is shrouded in sack- cloth of hair. u His thoughts all great and Solemn and serene, Like the immensest features of an orb, Whose eyes are blue seas, and whose clear broad brow Some cultured continent, come ever round From truth to truth day bringing as they come." He who perceives beautiful and majestic thought as an actual substance, and zealously embodies what he sees in clear and substantial language, will naturally be- come the most forcible and enduring orator. A firm and distinct outline is an invariable characteristic of all good composition, and he who can best command this, will be sure to express his ideas with most correctness. 42 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. pleasure and energy. The greatest merit lies not in the elaborate finish of minute, details, but in that enlarged comprehension which contemplates the whole extent and bearings of a subject at the outset, combined with a facility of execution which boldly stamps a definite and adequate expression on every part. As a deep know- ledge of the human form is the basis of the knowledge of all other forms, and the capacity to draw the hu- man frame accurately the foundation of the highest practical skill in every department of artistic excellence ; so is a critical understanding of human language in its philosophical elements and dextrous combinations, a de- partment of the noblest study, and source of the greatest power. Michael A.nge\o spent twelve years in dissect- ing, that he might worthily express the material features of man ; Daniel Webster has spent a whole life in the most earnest analysis of language that he might more effectively express the fairest and boldest features of eloquence, and long since attained a wonderful capacity for embodying ideas the most rich and glowing in forms of sculpturesque severity. He was evidently born to give the world more enlarged and exalted conceptions, " And uttered in a sound and homely tongue, Fit to be used by all who think while speaking." , Longinus believed that the sublime, as it is the highest excellence to which human composition can attain, abundantly compensates the absence of every other beauty; According to this rule, Mr. Webster never seeks the aid of meretricious ornaments, however ele- gant or graceful, but binds the language he employs DANIEL WEBSTEB. 43 strictly within the logical confines of the propositions he would demonstrate. He preserves a senatorial dig- nity throughout, and is by nature and education an orator unrivalled in the skill of unravelling subtleties, and of wielding the weapons of searching and inexorable dialectics. He uses words as the means, not as the end ; language in his hands is the instrument, conviction is the work. No one can doubt the copiousness of his mental resources; but he deals out his abundance with a steady and cautious hand, with that wise reserve which is not ambitious to display either its wealth or its art. His own mental character and habits as an orator are best described in his own well-known language applied to another. Said he : . " The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general character, and formed, indeed, a part of it. It was bold, manly, and energetic ; and such the crisis required. When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, \vhen great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valuable, in speech, farther than it is connected with high intellectual and moral endowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness, are the qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Af- fected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declama- tion, all may aspire after it, they cannot reach 't. It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain 44 DIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments, and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate of their wives, their chil- dren, and their country, hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then, patriotism is elo- quent ; then self-devotion is eloquent. The clear con- ception, out-running the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his object, this, this is eloquence ; or rather it is something greater and higher than eloquence, it is action, noble, sublime, god-like action." This clearness, freshness, and force, which Mr. Web- ster so much valued, he had acquired by a perpetual and profound study of simplicity; knowing that this one element, when pure, is better than a mixture of many of a gaudier tone. The highest merit of the best ora- tions consists mainly in a perfection of the whole, re- sulting from the just proportion of the several component parts. The longer we study such masterpieces, the more admirable traits we discover in them to admire ; as the enthusiastic antiquary exhumes a Phidian statue, and traces images of Olympian athlete thereon. In order to attain a general effect of grandeur, all trifling adjuncts must be avoided, so that the central idea may DANIEL WEBSTER. 45 preponderate throughout, and cause an air of simple dignity to prevail over all the parts, " As the snow- headed mountain rises o'er the lightning, and applies itself to heaven." This unity of purpose, subordinating infinite diversity to its particular aim, and urging for- ward all its auxiliaries to the execution of a single grand design, ordinarily produces the majestic oneness of a shared passion in the audience subjected to its force. They are all filled with one thought, captured and im- pelled by one potent influence, as innumerable billows of the ocean roll, and myriad sons of the forest bend before the same breath of omnipotence. We have quoted Mr. Webster's definition of elo- quence, and will here present an illustration of his own rule, from the famous debate on the resolution offered by Mr. Foote, in the Senate, on the 29th of December, 1829 ? as follows: " Resolved, That the committee on Public Lands be instructed to inquire and report the quantity of public lands remaining unsold within each State and Terri- tory. And whether it be expedient to limit, for a certain period, the sales of the public lands to such lands only as have heretofore been offered for sale, and are now subject to entry at the minimum price. And, also, whether the offices of Surveyor General, and some of the land offices, may not be abolished without detri mfnt to' the public interest ; or whether it be expedient to adopt measures to hasten the sales, and extend more rapidly the surveys of the public lands." On the 18th of January, Mr. Benton, of Missouri, addressed the Senate ; and on th 19th,JMr. Hayne, of 46 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA South Carolina, proceeded in the debate, and spoke at considerable length. After he had concluded, Mr. Webster rose to reply, but gave way, on the motion of Mr. Benton for an adjournment. When the doors of the Senate-chamber were opened on the morning of the 20th, says a spectator, " The rush for admittance was unprecedented. Mr. Webster had the floor, and rose. The first division of his speech is in reply to parts and details of his adversary's personal assault, and is a happy, though severe specimen of the keenest spirit of genuine debate and retort ; for Mr. Webster is one of those dangerous adversaries, who are never so formida- ble or so brilliant, as when they are most rudely pressed ; for then, as in the phosphorescence of the ocean, the degree of the violence urged, may always be taken as the measure of the brightness that is to follow. On the pre- sent occasion, his manner was cool, entirely self-possess- ed, and perfectly decided, and carried his irony as far as irony can go. There are portions of this first day's dis- cussion, like the passage relating to the charge of sleeping on the speech, he had answered ; the one in allusion to Banquo's ghost, which had been unhappily conjured up by his adversary; and the rejoinder respecting "one Nathan Dane, of Beverly, in Massachusetts," which will not be forgotten. The very tones in which they were uttered, still vibrate in the ears of those who heard them. There are, also, other and graver portions of it, like those which respect the course of legislation in regard to the new States ; the conduct of the North in regard to slavery, and the doctrine of internal improve- ments, which are in the most powerful style of parlia- DANIEL WEBSTER. 47 mentary debate. As he approaches the conclusion of this first great division of his speech, he rises to the loftiest tone of national feeling, entirely above the dim, misty region of sectional or party passion and preju- dice : " The eulogium pronounced on the character of the State of South Carolina, by the honorable gentleman, for her revolutionary and other merits, meets my hearty con- currence. I shall not acknowledge that the honorable member goes before me in regard for whatever of dis- tinguished talent, or distinguished character, South Carolina has produced. I claim part of the honor, I partake in the pride, of her great names. I claim them for my countrymen, one and all. The Laurenses, the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Marions Americans, all whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by State lines, than their talents and patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within the same narrow limits. In their day and generation, they served and honored the country, and the whole country ; and their renown is of the treasures of the whole country. Him, whose honored name the gentleman himself bears does he esteem me less capable of gratitude for his patriot- ism, or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his eyes had first opened upon the light of Massachusetts, instead of South Carolina ? Sir, does he suppose it in his power to exhibit a Carolina name, so bright, as to produce envy in my bosom ? No, Sir, increased gratification and delight, rather. I thank God, that, if I am gifted with little of the spirit which is able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as 1 trust, of that other spirit, 48 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. which would drag angels down. When I shall be found, Sir, in my place here, in the Senate, or else- where, to sneer at public merit, because it happens to spring up beyond the little limits of my own State, or neighborhood; when I refuse for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due to American talent, to ele- vated patriotism, to sincere devotion to liberty and the country ; or, if I see an uncommon endowment of Heaven if I see extraordinary capacity and virtue in any son of the South and if, moved by local preju- dice, or gangrened by State jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair from his just character and just fame, may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth ! " Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections let me indulge in refreshing remembrance of the past let me remind you that in early times, no States cherished greater harmony, both of principle and feeling, than Mas- sachusetts and South Carolina. Would to God that harmony might again return ! Shoulder to shoulder they went through the Revolution hand in hand they stood round the administration of Washington, and felt his own great arm lean on them for support. Unkind feeling, if it exist, alienation and distrust, are the growth, unnatural to such soils, of false principles since sown. They are weeds, the seeds of which that same great arm never scattered. " Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts she needs none. There she is behold icr and judge for yourselves. There is her history : the ivorld knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and .DANIEL WEBSTER. 49 Bunker Hill and there they will remain for ever. The bones of her sons, falling in the great struggle for inde- pendence, now lie mingled with the soil of every State, from New England to Georgia ; and there they will lie for ever. And, Sir, where American liberty raised its first voice ; and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it if folly and madness if uneasiness, under salutary and necessary restraint shall succeed to separate it from that union, by which alone its exist- ence is made sure, it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who gather round it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest monu- ments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin." We have endeavored to describe and exemplify from his own productions, the distinct perception, accurate combination, and severe deduction, which so palpably characterize the oratory of Mr. Webster. We now come to speak of the forcible illustration he so frequently employs. The best works in the world" are those wherein rugged vitality and ideal beauty are most harmoniously com- bined. The true master can infuse his sensibility to beauty into reposing and simple subjects, as well as manifest the highest energy and worth in a more exalted range, and knows how in every department he culti- 3 50 LIVING ORATOES IN AMERICA. vates, to temper and control the passionate outbreak ol impulsive feelings. Without this perpetual sovereignty of reason, public speech sinks to empty declamation, and is " a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Whenever the verbiage of a work obscures the subject by its opaqueness, or absorbs it in its splendor, the result is degraded to an inferior rank. Mr. Webster seldom or never falls into this fault, but preserves the golden mean between inert solidity and senseless inflation. The decided bias of his great latent power is to create excellence in majestic shapes, trat these are imbued with flexible energy and not the apathy of impotence. Reason and imagination dwell in his mind, and characterize its soarings, " like to a pair of eagles in one nest." His reason, obeying only its own iron force, seems reckless of every obstacle, and shining through a medium translucent as light, yet invincible as the avalanche, is destined, we believe, as long as the English language endures, to subsist unimpaired in the creations of its native grandeur, " as the changeless sea, rolling the same in every age as now." Observe that bis imagination is something more powerful as well as more glorious, than the mere prettiness of puerile fancy; it is elementary fire, half rejoicing in its own permeating and purifying flames, creative of sublimity the most ex- alted, and superbly decorative of the worlds it has formed. The coalition of these two extraordinary attri- butes produces superlative completeness in oratorical po\ver ; that unity which is essential to the most endur- ing excellence, its basis and crowning charm, and is symbolized, not by the butterfly fluttering round a cot- DANIEL WEBSTER. 51 tage garden, but the eagle soaring above mountains and erenely basking in the sun. " Who can mistake great thoughts ? rhey seize upon the mind-arrest, and search, And shake it-bow the tall soul as by wind- Rush over it like rivers over reeds, Which quaver in the current-turn us cold, And pale, and voiceless ; leaving in the brain. A rocking and a ringing." As the best illustration of our remarks on Mr Web- *ters Pagination, we subjoin his thrilling apostrophe to Warren on Bunker Hill. It is the more'remarkab.e ,on arnmg a grammatical inaccuracy, produced by pass- ng from the third person ,o he second in the same sen- ence, and at once the most natural consequence of transcendent ardor and the most unequivocal proof of unpremeduated excellence. When the sentence com- enced But,-ah,-him," it wag evidently in L mmd of the orator, to end by saying, , how sha". I com? memorate h,m ? But in the fmgna Q{ ^ s unconsc,ous of the words, but inflamed with the thought- beholdmg as he stood near the spot where the hero fell the fT. "I , eaUlifUl imSge risin ^ "P *<** Beneath fi , s c d the fire of hberty in his eye,-the blood of his gallant heart st.H pouring from his wound,"-,he vividness of h.s imagination and the fervor of his patriotic sensibility > onger permit the rap. orator to speak /him; he must speak to hun. Thenceforth he attempts not to tell tu aud.ence what Warren was, but seeing the martyr- 52 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. patriot before him, on the spot where he perished, he portrays what immortal worth is. But the whole pas- sage should be quoted : " Venerable men ! You have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously length- ened out your lives, that you may behold this joyous day. You are now, where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. Be- hold, how altered ! The same heavens are indeed over your head ; the same ocean rolls at your feet ; but all else, how changed ! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon. You see no mixed volumes of smoke and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The ground strewed with the dead and dying; the impetuous charge ; the steady and successful repulse ; the loud call to repeated assault ; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there may be in war and death ; all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children, and country- men in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you, with an universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position, appropriately lying at the foot of this mourtf, and seem- ing fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoy- ance to you, but your country's own means of distinc- DANIEL WEBSTER. 53 tion and defence. All is peace ; and God has granted you this sight of your country's happiness, ere you slumber in the grave forever. He has allowed you to >ehold and to partake the reward of your patriotic toils - I he has allowed us, your sons and countrymen to et you here, and in the name of the present genera- ion, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you ! " But, alas, you are not all here ! Time and the sword have thinned your ranks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge ! Our eyes seek for you m vain amidst this broken band. You are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your country in her grate- il remembrance, and your own bright example. But t us not too much grieve, that you have met the com- mon fate of men. You lived, at least long enough to now that your work had been nobly and successfully comphshed. You lived to see your country's inde- ndence established, and to sheathe your swords from On the light of Liberty you saw arise the light of Peace, like another morn, Risen on mid-noon;' and the sky on which you closed your eyes was cloudless. * "But-ah!-Him ! the first great Martyr in this great Him ! the premature victim of his own self. devoting heart! Him ! the head of our civil councils and the destined leader of our military bands ; whom nothing brought hither, but the unquenchable fire of his 54 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA; own spirit; Him! cut off by Providence, in the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom ; falling ere he saw the star of his country rise ; pouring out his generous blood, like water, before he knew whether it would fer- tilize a land of freedom or of bondage ! how shall I struggle with the emotions, that stifle the utterance of thy name ! Our poor work may perish ; but thine shall endure ! This monument may moulder away ; the solid ground it rests upon may -sink down to a level with the sea; but thy memory shall not fail! Wheresoever among men a heart shall be found, that beats to the transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim kindred with thy spirit!" This patriotic ardor, as Mr. Whipple finely remarks, has given intensity to the purposes of the great states- man of New England, and lent the richest glow to "his genius. " It has made his eloquence a language of the heart ; felt and understood over every portion of the land it consecrates. On Plymouth Rock, on Bunker Hill, at Mount Vernon, by the tombs of Hamilton, and Adams, and Jefferson, and Jay, we are reminded of Daniel Webster. He has done what no national poet has yet succeeded in doing, associated his own great genius with all in our country's, history and scenery, which makes us rejoice that we are Americans. He has made the dead past a living present. Over all those events in our history which are heroical, he has cast the hue.s of strong feeling and vivid imagination. He can- not stand on one spot of ground, hallovv.e.d by liberty or religion, without being kindled by the genius of tne place; he cannot mention a name, consecrated by - ' * \^^ ** . . * * DANIEL WEBSTER. 55 self-devotion and patriotism, without doing it eloquent homage. Seeing clearly, and feeling deeply, he makes us see and feel with him. " That scene of the landing of the Pilgrims, in which his imagination conjures up the forms and emotions of our New England ancestry, will ever live in the national memory. We see with him, the ' little, bark with the interesting group on its deck, make its slow progress to the shore.' We feel, with him, 'the cold which be- numbed/ and listen \vith him, ' to the winds which pierced them.' Carver, and Bradford, and Standish, and Brewster, and Allerton, look out upon us from the pic- tured page, in all the dignity with which virtue and free- dom invest their martyrs ; and we see, too, ' chilled and shivering childhood, houseless but for a mother's arms, couchless but for a mother's breast, till our own blood almost freezes.' "The readiness with which the orator compels our sympathies to follow his own, is again illustrated in the orations at Bunker Hill, and in the discourse in honor of Adams and Jefferson. In reading them, we feel proud of our country, and of the great men and great principles it has cherished. The mind feels an unwont- ed elevation, and the heart is stirred with emotions of more than common depth, by their majesty and power. Some passages are so graphic and true, that they seem gifted with a voice, and to speak to us from the page they illumine. The intensity of feeling with which they are pervaded, rises at times with confident hope to prophecy, and lifts the soul as with wings. In that splen- did close to a remarkable passage in the oration on 56 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. Adams and Jefferson, what American does not feel as- sured, with the orator, that their fame will be immortal ?" " Although no sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record of their deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they honored. Marble columns may, indeed, moulder into dust, time may erase all impress from the crumbling stone, but their fame remains ; for with AMERICAN LIB- ERTY it rose, and with AMERICAN LIBERTY ONLY can it per- ish. It was the last swelling peal of yonder choir, ' THEIR BODIES ARE BURIED IN PEACE, BUT THEIR NAME LIVETH EVER- MORE.' I catch that solemn song, I echo that lofty strain of funeral triumph, ' THEIR NAME LIVETH EVERMORE.'" In reviewing the mental traits and oratorical produc- tions of Mr. Webster, we think that in his eloquence there are three distinct styles, the narrative, the sena- torial, and the impassioned. The first is a slow, delibe- rate manner, employed in stating simple facts, or plain argument ; like an admirable reader, distinct and forcible, but with no display of excited elocution. This is ex- ceedingly beautiful, because it is the nearest approach to sublimity of character, expressed in pure form, independ- ent of all passion or emotion. "Slow seems their speed whose thoughts before them run." His second style, is when he is interested in the dis- cussion of some important subject, in the forum of high debate, where by the action of his own aroused mind in conflict with powerful antagonists, he has become warmed and animated. His elocution as well as his reasoning then is often magnificent, presenting alto- gether his best and most powerful manner. Under DANIEL WEBSTER. 57 ordinary circumstances, Mr. Webster may truly say, "My mind my kingdom is," and to the most casual eye, he seems born " to set a throne or chair of state in the understandings of other men." But when popular pas- sions are furiously aroused, and the bravest champions tremble before the deepening storm, he becomes the more serenely self-possessed, and, in the urifoldings of native grandeur, instinctively assumes a look of calm, unalterable energy, " above all pain, all passion, and all pride." Such was his appearance at the opening of the great Nullification debate, when he stood erect and fearless in the general consternation, invincibly armed from head to foot, to defend the Constitution which fled to him for shelter, and palpitated in his breast. The greatest effect ever produced by a consum- mate orator is achieved by his preserving the aspect and advantage of repose amidst the tempest in which he is involved, showing that he is at the same time master of the stormy elements which agitate others and swell within himself. This is not the repose of inanition or irresolu- tion, but the repose of magnificent energy disciplined to the most practical use by self-possession. It produces the consciousness of duty performed, when evils are eradicat- ed and victory won, is most diligent in slaying the worst monsters, and stands at length embodied before the world in Hercules leaning on his club. . Many collisions and conquests at the Capitol of this nation, justify the allusion here made: Therein Mr. Webster has repeatedly manifested a grasp and potency of mind which, we think, are found in no other living orator in the new world or old. On occasions of the 3* 58 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. highest forensic gladiatorship, there is in him, such an impressiveness of countenance, such startling intonations of voice, such depth of argument, lucid and palpable to every entranced faculty of the spell-bound audience, that eloquence seems magical and persuasive to a degree the most divine. The care taken before-hand, skillfully to construct the plan of attack, and arrange in order his diversified forces, adds calmest confidence to the deli- berate execution and all the more certainly insures ulti- mate success ; as Napoleon gained the battle of to-mor- row by spending a sleepless night himself, in projecting his plans before the bivouac fire, while he sent his army to sound repose, well clad, and full of good bread and wine. His arguments, like the Grecian phalanx, are in close array, each one firmly wedged in between its com- panions ; so that the defensive points of his logic, like their spears, present a front impenetrable to all attacks. Each subordinate topic is a link whereby the chain of his thoughts is connected, the articulations of the body of his argument, without which it would be stiff, lame and ungainly. " All things within it Are so digested, fitted and composed As it shows Wit had married Order." A noble simplicity and spontaneous force are the char- acteristic features of Mr. Webster's eloquence; and nence, though colors fade, and language in time becomes obsolete, the chasteness of its form, and substarrce of im- mortal thought can never decay. His ordinary delivery if "ot the rushing torrent of impetuous declamation, DANIEL WEBSTER. 59 foaming and upturning everything in its course, but the calm and grand flow of a noble, unimpeded stream. By this, it is not meant that our orator is never excited in his higher efforts, no man is more so. But his excite- ment does not so much embody the idea of physical vio- lence, as latent power. Veins may be seen in the breast of a god, for centuries one of the glories of the Parthe- non,, and now in the British Museum. This is by no means absurd, but highly natural. Phidias did not think of deifying a hero by depriving him of his essential hu- man characteristics ; and blood is as requisite to invin- cible force as muscle, bone as mind. The osseous sys- tem is undoubtedly the foundation of all highly organized forms, consolidating and defining the particular shape, but is of itself by no means the perfected being. It is far from producing the rounded symmetry, and graceful finish, which, as the veil and integument of an exalted organization, we call beauty. Webster, first of all, is most careful with respect to the basis of his argument ; but when he has firmly secured all that is fundamental, he is far from being indifferent to whatever is judiciously decorative. He combines in himself not only the bone and muscle of mighty argument, but he has also its throbbing flesh and bounding blood. He is excited, but never distorted, and in this respect, he, of all moderns, most strikingly resembles the best models of classical antiquity. The Apollo is animated ; the Niobe is ab- sorbed ; the Warrior of Agasias is excited ; the dying Gladiator is depressed ; the Laocoon is convulsed ; but in all this variety of exhilaration or suffering, there is a power of self-control manifest and supreme. Even 60 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. when passion or anguish becomes too big for utterance the wisdom of the ancients borrowed a feature of tran- quillity, though not its air. Minds of the order we are now considering, always require great stimulus to deve- lop their best energies, and are most luminous when most exalted. " The clouds which hide The mental mountains rising nighest Heaven, Are full of finest lightning, and a breath Can give those gathered shadows fearful life, And launch their light in thunder o'er the world." We have spoken of Mr. Webster's narrative style, and of his more exalted forensic manner ; it remains, in conclusion, to notice a third style, sometimes exempli- fied by him, but as unlike the two former as it is possi- ble to conceive. This is seen in him when exasperated by the conduct of others, or by something ungenerous and impertinent which has been drawn into the debate. He then is exceedingly rapid in utterance, and violent in action ; pours forth a torrent of words, on a high key, and with sharp, shrill emphasis, like the percussion of small arms. Now deadly pale with emotion, and anon flushed with deep crimson to the topmost bend of his awful brows, with tones that are the more impressive from a slight trembling of proud scorn, enforced by a visage all inflamed, he hurls defiance at his foes. Then those indescribable eye-balls of his become terrible in their expression, matched only by the compressed lips and impending temples, all combined in suggesting un- speakable contempt, and "Revolving lightnings like DANIEL WEBSTER. 61 world on fire." This, however, is the exception rather than the rule with our orator, and is seen when he not only convinces, but overpowers and oppresses the hearer. This latter style completes a happy variety of manner, suited to every kind of subject, every class of adver- saries, every frame of mind, and undoubtedly is one great secret of his unequalled power, since the mode of his address, always springs naturally out of the sub- ject or occasion, and is most effective because it is never assumed. Eloquent discourse is the convey- ing thoughts in language which most resembles things; the more perfect the thing represented, the more impressive will be the thought conveyed. Mr. Webster is superlatively eloquent in his happier inspirations, because his outward excitement is ex- actly proportioned to the inward ; if he is not aroused by the action of the subject on his own soul, no audience in the world can inflame him, and when he is really im- passioned, it is ever with natural fire and no mortal powers can withstand the fury of its blaze. His imagi- nation permeates and energizes the indomitable arms of his logic, as the' poetry of Cromwell lay only in his facts and in his sword. Close, firm, and irresistibly argu- mentative, the substance of his speech is luminous truth, and his habitual style deep and grave, like history inscribed on monuments. Pliny says that Aristonidas, the Theban, mixed metals with the materials of his art ; and Alcon formed a Hercules of iron, to express the strength and dura- bility of the god. Such, we think, is the character of Mr. "Webster's mind. His reasonings are more the 62 LIVING CttATOES IN AMERICA. exertions of study than the effects of impulse. A severe and learned simplicity is his most natural tone, in the exercise of which he breathes and creates the graceful majesty of the antique. Disproportion of parts may be an element of hugeness, but only as connected with elaborated proportion does true grandeur exist. Egyp- tian architecture is huge, but the Grecian, alone, is grand. Eloquence of the Websterian order is not something hollow and artificial, but firm and natural ; an etherial and invincible essence, developed in sincere belief and fervid feelings, and which no conventional rules can either analyze, estimate, or produce. The peculiar breadth and potency of his style resembles the movement of a mighty sea ; waves arise, approach, and break on the shore, but in their rise and fall, emerging and bursting into spray, perpetually impress the spec- tator with the image of that omnipotent hand that rouses, impels, and yet controls them. As the two greatest artists that ever lived, Phidias and Michael An- gelo, were painters as well as sculptors, they combined in their best productions the highest measure of force and most perfect knowledge of effect ; thus in magnifi- cence of conception, and poetry of character, in a happy selection of subject, and- fearless execution of hand, they-jremain, to all the world, unsurpassed. Pre- cisely of the same stamp is the mind of Daniel Webster. Nothing in nature, art, history, philosophy, or morals, is foreign to his clear and comprehensive design ; every department of knowledge, mastered by a long and stu- dious life, is made to contribute a beam of truth to the torch which he grasps like a giant, and holds forth to DANIEL WEBSTER. 63 irradiate the course of his demonstration, at the same time consummating oratorical excellence and unequalled statesmanship. An intelligent English traveller has recorded the fol- lowing personal sketch : " The forehead of Mr. Webster is high, broad, and advancing. The cavity beneath the eyebrow is remark- ably large. The eye is deeply set, but full, dark, and penetrating in the highest degree ; the nose prominent and well defined ; the mouth marked by that rigid com- pression of the lips by which the New Englanders are distinguished. When Mr. Webster's countenance is in repose, its expression struck me as cold and forbidding, but in conversation it lightens up ; and when he smiles, the whole impression it communicates is at once changed. His voice is clear, sharp, and firm, without much variety of modulation ; but when animated, it rings on the ear like a clarion." To this we may add the remark of another observer, touching his sense of personal propriety: "Mr. Web- ster never appears before an audience without a due preparation. The habits of his mind partake of those in respect to his person. On all occasions when he is to be the chief speaker, he is carefully and tastefully dressed. I have seen him often in the U. S. Senate, and in the Court of the Supreme Judicial Tribunal a glance at his person is sufficient to indicate whether or not he is to speak. A blue coat and buff vest, similar to that worn by Mr. Fox in Parliament, is his favorite dress for great occasions in the Senate; a black suit is chopen for the bar." 64 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. The great writer, statesman, patriot, and orator, whom we have thus considered, is now in the zenith of his fame and strength. Painting has never done justice to his massy figure and impressive features, nor has lan- guage yet adequately portrayed his extraordinary elo- quence. There is a Doric substantiability about all his person, inimitable and unwasting, a loftiness of character in harmony with the divinest art, and which sculpture alone can fitly express. In coming centuries his noble form, wrought by kindred genius in speaking marble, towering from a colossal base of New England granite, and draped in that simple majesty which commands the admiring world, will rise to meet the sun in his coming ; the earliest light of the morning shall gild it, and the parting day of American freedom " linger and play on its summit." CHAPTER H. EDWARD EVERETT, THE RHETORICIAN. A RIPE scholar, graceful speaker, and consummate master of rhetorical art, is EDWARD EVERETT, of Massa- chusetts. Before the illustration of these points, we will present a few historical statements. He was born in Dorchester, Norfolk County, on the llth of April, 1794. Edward was the fourth in a family of eight children, and lost his father, a highly respecta- ble clergyman, when he was but eight years old. His education, till he was thirteen years of age, was ob- tained almost exclusively at the public schools in Dor- chester and Boston, to which latter place the family removed after his father's decease. In the Academy, at Exeter, N. H., under the tuition of Dr. Abbott, he com- pleted his preparation for college. He entered Harvard University in August, 1807, and graduated in 1811, with the highest honors of his class. Under the influence and instruction of Rev. J. S. Buckminster and President Kirkland, he was induced to select the profession of theology. In 1812 he was appointed Latin tutor IB the University. In the LiviAG OKATORS JN AMERICA. autumn of 1813, being then less than, nineteen years of age, he was settled, as the successor of Buckminster, over the Brattle Street Church, in Boston.^ In addition to the ordinary duties of the ministry, he wrote and pub- lished a Defence of Christianity, which was regarded as an elaborate and able work. Having been appointed by the Corporation and Over- seers of Harvard University, Professor of Greek Litera- ture, he obtained a dismission from his congregation, and assumed his new functions at Cambridge, when under twenty-one years of age. To improve his health, and perfect his qualifications for the chair to which he had been called, he was permitted and enabled, by the corporation, to travel in Europe, and to reside some time at the principal foreign universities. He embarked from Boston in the spring of 1815, im- mediately after the conclusion of peace with Great Britain. On arriving in Liverpool, he heard of the escape of Napoleon from Elba, and was in London when the battle of Waterloo was fought. From Eng- land he went to Germany, passed a few days at Rotter- dam, Amsterdam, Leyden, and the other Dutch cities, and proceeded through Westphalia to Gottingen, in the kingdom of Hanover. At this most celebrated German University he spent two years in assiduous study, and employed the vaca- tions in excursions to the principal cities and universi- ties of the North. The winter of 1817 he spent in Paris, acquiring the Italian and modern Greek languages. Here he enjoyed the society of many eminent men, and acquainted him- EDWARD EVERETT. 67 self with several new branches of knowledge. In 1818, he again visited England, spent some time at Oxford and Cambridge, made excursions to Wales and the Lakes, Edinburgh, and the Highlands, passed a few days with Sir Walter, at Abbotslbrd, and became acquainted with Dugald Stewart, as well as with many other distin- guished characters of England and Scotland. In the autumn of 1818, he returned to France, and proceeded to Switzerland and Italy. He passed by the way of Lyons, Geneva, Chamouni, and the glaciers of Mont Blanc ; made a circuit through Lausanne, Berne, Lucerne, Altdorf, and theValais; crossed the Simplon to Milan ; went through Lombardy to Venice, and then back over the Appenines to Florence. The winter was spent in Rome, in antiquarian research, and converse with distinguished men. In the spring of 1819, he went to Naples ; and after visiting the most interesting localities in that vicinity, crossed over to Bari, on the Adriatic ; and thence tra- velled on horseback by the way of Lecce to Otranto. Thence he took passage to Corfu, and the coast of Al- bania. Bearing letters to Ali Pacha from Lord Byron, he was received by that famous chieftain, at Yanina, with great kindness. Crossing Mount Pindus, and going north as fat as the Vale of Tempe", he returned through Thessaly to Thermopylae, passing by Pharsalia, over Mount Parnassus to Delphi, Thebes, and Athens. He then made an excursion over the Isthmus of Co- rinth to Sparta, and returning to the north, embarked in the Gulf of Vblo for the Dardanelles, visiting the site of Troy and Constantinople. 68 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. In June, 1819, he passed the Balkan Mountains, and crossing the Danube at Nicopol, went through Wal- lachia to Bucharest, and entered Austria through the great pass in the Carpathian Mountains. After spend- ing some time at Vienna, he traversed Austria, the Tyrol, and Bavaria. Returning by the way of Paris and London, he took passage for America, September, 1819. The record from which we have condensed the above sketch, says, that the whole time spent by Mr. Everett, in his travels and studies in Europe and Asia, was nearly four years and seven months. Having thus briefly indicated the fullness and variety of classical attainment received by Mr. Everett, pre- paratory to the duties of his Professorship at Cambridge, we now proceed more particularly to notice his literary career at home. Near the close of 1819, he was solicited to assume the editorial charge of the North American Review. Its number of subscribers, at that time, was inconsider- able, but a great change in its style and fortunes imme- diately took place. A new series commenced, in which the miscellaneous department was omitted, and the work conformed throughout to the type of European publica- tions of the same character. Many of its numbers passed into a second and even a third edition. Under the administration of the new editor, its circulation in- creased with so much rapidity that it became necessary to reprint several editions of the first series, in order to supply the augmented demand for the whole. He gave it an American character and spirit, so that it com- manded not. only the admiration and support of his own EDWARD EVERETT. countrymen, but the respectful regards of foreign critics and scholars. His editorship of this leading American Review continued four years ; but he has occasionally contributed to its pages ever since. The lectures on Greek literature, delivered by Mr. Everett to the students of Harvard University, says a literary friend, "are remembered with respectful grati- tude by all whose privilege it was to be connected with the college during his continuance in office there. At the same time he delivered two courses of lectures in Boston on ancient art, which, as well as his collegiate lectures, remain still unpublished. When, after having received such corrections and additions as his mature experience and leisure may enable him to bestow upon them, they shall be given to the world, those who heard them are confident that they will be regarded as one of the noblest contributions ever made to our literature. " While residing at Cambridge, he kept up a corres- pondence with his learned friends abroad, particularly with the scholars and patriots of Greece ; and by his zealous exertions did much to awaken the interest which, throughout the country, and in the halls of Congress, was expressed in behalf of that renowned people in their long and glorious struggle for liberty and independence. In the discharge of his duties as Professor at Cambridge he was faithful, constant, and eminently successful." The publications of Mr. Everett are numerous. His early theological work has been referred to. At a subsequent period, in addition to the eloquent, erudite, and patriotic articles which he contributed to the North American Review, and other periodicals, he prepared a 70 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. Greek grammar and a Greek class book for the use of students, while Professor at Cambridge. His various orations we shall have occasion to refer to copiously under another head. We have spoken of Mr. Everett as a divine, and as a scholar ; it remains, thirdly, to sketch his progress as a politician. In 1824, a vacancy occurred in the Con- gressional District to which Cambridge belongs ; and Mr. Everett was put in nomination to fill the place. To the astonishment of all, he was elected by a decisive majority. Contrary to his expectation at the time of accepting a nomination, it is said, his connection with the University, as an instructor, ceased on his election to Congress ; but he was immediately chosen by the overseers as a member of their board. In December, 1825, Mr. Everett first entered upon his duties at Washington, and was re-elected for five successive Congresses by large majorities. His legisla- tive labors were numerous and effective. For ten years continuously, he was on the committee of Foreign Af- fairs, and much of the time its chairman. Among the many reports which he drew up, that on the Panama mission occupies a conspicuous place. He collected all the facts and arguments in reference to that vexed qustion into a volume; and much of the credit for having finally procured the final adjustment of our claims upon foreign powers for spoliation is undoubtedly due to him. " He was chairman of the Select Committee, during Mr. Adams' Presidency, on the Georgia controversy ; and always took a leading part, while in Congress, in EDWARD EVERETT. 71 the efforts that were made to protect the Indians from injustice. In the spring of 1827 he addressed a series of letters to Mr. Canning on the subject of the colonial trade, which were extensively re-published. He always served on the Library Committee, and generally on that for the Public Buildings; together with John Ser- geant, he constituted the minority on the famous Re- trenchment Committee. He drew the report for the Committee in favor of the heirs of Fulton. Together with Governor Ellsworth, of Connecticut, he constituted the minority of the Bank investigating Committee, which was despatched to Philadelphia, and wrote the minority report. He wrote the minority report of the Committee of Foreign Relations, in reference to the controversy with France, in the spring of 1835; distinguished -himself by the high ground he took on the subject in debate, and supplied, in the last clause of his report, the words of the resolu- tion unanimously passed, in reference to it, by the House of Representatives. He also, at the same ses- sion, prepared a statement on French spoliations prior to 1800, which was printed by order of the House." In the spring of 1835, Mr. Everett took his leave of the House of Representatives, having declined a re-elec- tion. On the election of Governor Davis to the Senate of the United States, in the same year, he became his successor in the gubernatorial office. In 1836, and again in 1837, he was re-elected to the same exalted functions. At a subsequent period he became the American Minister at the Court of St. James, which office he held for several 72 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. years. On his return he was chosen President of Har- vard University, which station he has just resigned. Having viewed Mr. Everett as a student, divine, pro- fessor, and politician, let us now more deliberately con- template him as an orator. In this exalted sphere, he widely established his fame as early as 1824, when he delivered his oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society at Cambridge. General Lafayette wss among the au- ditors, to whom, at the close, he referred as follows : " Meantime, the years are rapidly passing away and gathering importance in their course. With the pre- sent year, will be completed the half century from that most important era in human history, the commence- ment of our revolutionary war. The jubilee of our na tional existence is at hand. The space of time that has elapsed since that momentous date, has laid down in the dust, which the blood of many of them had already hal- lowed, most of the great men to whom, under Provi- dence, we owe our national existence and privileges A few still survive among us, to reap the rich fruits of their labors and sufferings ; and ONE has yielded himself to the united voice of a people, and returned in his age, to receive the gratitude of the nation, to whom he de- voted his youth. It is recorded on the pages of Ameri- can history, that when this friend of our country applied to our commissioners at Paris, in 1776, for a pas- sage in the first ship they should despatch to America, they were obliged to answer him, (so low and abject was then our dear native land) that they possessed not the means nor the credit sufficient for providing a single vessel, in all the ports of France. ' Then/ exclaimed thv EDWARD EVERETT. 73 youthful hero, ' I will provide my own ;' and it is a literal fact, that when all America was too poor to offer him so much as a passage to her shores, he left, in his tender youth, the bosom of home, of happiness, of wealth, of rank, to plunge in the dust and blood of our inauspicious struggle ! " Welcome, friend of our fathers, to our shores ! Hap- py are our eyes that behold those venerable features. Enjoy a triumph such as never conqueror nor monarch enjoyed, the assurance that throughout America, there is not a bosom, which does not beat with joy and grati- tude at the sound of your name. You have already met and saluted, or will soon meet, the few that remain, of the ardent patriots, prudent counsellors, and brave war- riors, with whom you were associated in achieving our liberty. But you have looked round in vain for the faces of many, who would have lived years of pleasure on a day like this, with their old companion in arms and brother in peril. Lincoln, and Greene, and Knox, and Hamil- ton, are gone ; the heroes of Saratoga and Yorktown have fallen, before the only foe they could not meet. Above all, the first of heroes and of men, the friend of your youth, the more than friend of his country, rests in the bosom of the soil he redeemed. On the banks of his Potomac, he lies in glory and peace. You will re- visit the hospitable shades of Mount Vernon, but him whom you venerated as we did, you will not meet at its door. His voice of consolation, which reached you in the Austrian dungeons, cannot now breaths silence, to bid you welcome to his own roof. But the grateful children of America will bid you welcome in his name 4 74 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. Welcome, thrice welcome to our shores ; and whitherso- ever throughout the limits of the continent your course shall take you, the ear that hears you shall bless you, the eye that sees you shall bear witness to you, and every tongue exclaim, with heartfelt joy, welcome, welcome La Fayette !" Preparatory to a critical analysis of Mr. Everett's eloquence, we will select several specimens from his oc- casional addresses, exemplifying his imagination, his sen- sibility to patriotic associations, and his appreciation of exalted personal worth. In the first place, to illustrate his imagination, we will adduce examples from among his first and last orations. Near the close of his re- marks at Plymouth Rock, December 22d, 1824, Mr. Everett said : " Methinks I see it now, that one solitary, adventu- rous vessel, the Mayflower of a forlorn hope, freighted with the prospects of a future state, and bound across the unknown sea. I behold it pursuing, with a thousand misgivings, the uncertain, the tedious voyage. Suns rise and set, and weeks and months pass, and winter surprises them on the deep, but brings them not the sight of the wished-for shore. I see them now scantily supplied with provisions, crowded almost to suffocation in their ill-stored prison, delayed by calms, pursuing a circuitous route; and now driven in fury before the raging tempest, on^the high and giddy waves. The awful voice of the storm howls through the rigging. The laboring^masts seem straining from their base ;- the dismal sound of the pumps is heard -the ship leaps, as it were, madly, from billow to billow; the ocean EDWARD EVERETT. 75 breaks, and settles with engulphing floods over the float- ing deck, and beats with deadening weight, against the staggered vessel. I see them, escaped from these perils, pursuing their all but desperate undertaking, and landed at last, after a five months' passage, on the ice-clad rocks of Plymouth, weak and weary from the voyage, poorly armed, scantily provisioned, depending on the charity of their ship-master for a draft of beer on board, drinking nothing but water on shore, without shelter, without means, surrounded by hostile tribes. Shut now the volume of history, and tell me, on any principle of human probability, wh.it shall be the fate of this hand- ful of adventurers. Tell me, man of military science, in how many months were they all swept off by the thirty savage tribes, enumerated within the early limits of New England ? Tell me, politician, how long did this shadow of a colony, on which your conventions and treaties had not smiled, languish on the distant coast ? Student of history, compare for me the baffled projects, the deserted settlements, the abandoned adven- tures, of other times, and find the parallel of this. Was it the winter's storm, beating upon the houseless heads of women and children ; was it hard labor and spare meals ; was it disease, was it the tomahawk, was it the deep malady of a blighted hope, a ruined enterprise, and a broken heart, aching in its last moments at the recollection of the loved and left, beyond the sea ; was it some, or all of these united, that hurried this forsaken company to their melancholy fate? And is it possible, that neither of these causes, that not all combined, were able to blast this bud of hope ? Is it possible, that from 70 LIVING OBATOBS IN AMERICA. a beginning so feeble, so frail, so worthy, not so much of admiration as of pity, there has gone forth a progress so steady, a growth so wonderful, a reality so important, a promise yet to be fulfilled, so glorious ?" In the address delivered at Bloody Brook, in South Deerfield, Massachusetts, September 30, 1835, in com- memoration of the " Flower of Essex" who fell at that spot, in King Philip's war, September 18, (O. S.) 1675, Mr. Everett began as follows : "Gathered in this temple not made with hands, to un- roll the venerable record of our father V history, let our first thoughts ascend to him, whose heavens are spread out, as a glorious canopy, above our heads. As our eyes look up to the everlasting hills which rise before us, let us remember that in the dark and eventful days we commemorate, the hand that lifted their eternal pillars to the clouds, was the sole stay and support of our afflicted sires. While we contemplate the lovely scene around us, once covered with the gloomy forest and the tan- gled swamps, through which the victims of this day pur- sued their unsuspecting path to the field of slaughter, let us bow in gratitude to Him, beneath whose paternal care a little one has become a thousand, and a small one a strong nation. Assembled under the shadow of this venerable 1/ee, let us bear a thankful recollection, that at the period when its sturdy limbs which now spread over us, hung with nature's rich and verdant tapestry, were all folded up within the narrow compass of their seminal germ, the thousand settlements of our beloved country, teeming with the life, energy, and power of prosperous millions, were struggling with unimagined EDWARD EVERETT. 77 hardships for a doubtful existence, in a score of feeble plantations scattered through the hostile wilderness. Alas, it was not alone the genial showers, and the gentle dews, and the native richness of the soil, which nour- ished the growth of this stately tree. The sod from which it sprung, was moistened with the blood of brave man who fell for their country, and the ashes of peace- ful dwellings are mingled with the consecrated earth. In like manner, it is not alone the wisdom and the cour- age, the piety and the virtue of our fathers, not alone the prudence with which they laid the foundations of the State, to which we are indebted for its happy growth and all-pervading prosperity. No, we ought never to forget, we ought this day especially to remember, that it was in their sacrifices and trials, their heart-rending sorrows, their ever-renewed tribulations, their wander- ing?, their conflicts, their wants and their woes, that the corner-stone of our privileges and blessings was laid. <; As I stand on this hallowed spot, my mind filled with the traditions of that disastrous day, surrounded by these enduring natural memorials, impressed with the touching ceremonies we have just witnessed, the affecting inci- dents of the bloody scene crowd upon my imagination. This compact and prosperous village disappears, and a few scattered log cabins are seen, in the bosom of the primeval forest, clustering for protection around the rude block-house in the centre. A corn-field or two has been rescued from the all-surrounding wilderness, and here and there the yellow husks are heard to rustle in the breeze, that comes loaded with the mournful sigh* 78 LIVING OKATORS IN AMERICA, of the melancholy pine woods. Beyond, the intermin- able forest spreads in every direction, the covert of the wolf, of the rattle-snake, of the savage ; and between its gloomy copses, what is now a fertile and cultivated meadow, stretches out a dreary expanse of unreclaimed morass. I look, I listen. All is still, solemnly, frightfully still. No voice of human activity or enjoy- ment breaks the dreary silence of nature, or mingles with the dirge of the woods and water-courses. All seems peaceful and still : and yet there is a strange heaviness in the fall of the leaves in the wood that skirts the road ; there is an unnatural flitting in those shadows ; there is a plashing sound in the waters of that brook, which mykes the flesh creep with horror. Hark ! it is the click of a gun-lock from that thicket ; no, it is a pebble, that has dropped from the over-hanging cliff, upon the rock beneath. It is, it is the gleaming blade of a scalping-knife ; no, it is a sun-beam thrown off from that dancing ripple. It is, it is the red feather of a savage chief, peeping from behind that maple tree : no, it is a leaf, which September has touched with her many-tinted pencil, And now a distant drum is heard ; yes, that is a sound of life, conscious, proud life. A single fife breaks upon the ear, a stirring strain. It is one of the marches, to which the stern warriors of Cromwell moved over the field at Naseby and Wor- cester. There are no loyal ears, to take offence at a puritanical march in a transatlantic forest; and hard by, at Hadley, there is a grey-haired fugitive, who followed the cheering strain, at the head of his division in the army of the great usurper. The warlike note grows EDWARD EVERETT. 79 louder ; I hear the tread of armed men : but I run be- fore my story." The gentle order of imagination peculiar to Mr. Everett's mind, enables him to excel in picturesque description. A good specimen of history fancifully em- bellished is presented in his " Three Pictures of Boston :" " To understand the character of the commerce of our own city, we must not look merely at one point, but at the whole circuit of country, of which it is the business centre. We must not contemplate it only at this pre- sent moment of time, but we must bring before our imaginations, as in the shifting scenes of a diorama al least three successive historical and topographical pic- tures ; and truly instructive 1 think it would be to see them delineated on canvas. We must survey the first of them in the company of the venerable John Win- throp, the founder of the State. Let us go up with him, on the day of his landing, the seventeenth of June, 1630, "to the heights of yonder peninsula, as yet without a name. Landward stretches a dismal forest ; seaward, a waste of waters, unspotted with a sail, except that of his own ship. At the foot of the hill you see the cabins of Walford and the Spragues, who the latter a year be- fore, the former still earlier had adventured to this spot, untenanted else by any child of civilization. On the other side of the river lies Mr. Blackstone's farm. It comprises three goodly hills, converted by a spring-tide into three wood-crowned islets ; and it is mainly valued for a noble spring of fresh water, which gushes from the northern slope of one of these hills, and which furnished in the course of the summer, the motive for transferring 80 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. the seat of ihe infant settlement. This shall be the first picture. " The second shall be contemplated from the same spot the heights of Charlestown on the same day, the eventful seventeenth of June, one hundred and forty years later, namely, in the year 1775. A terrific scene of war rages on the top of the hill. Wait for a favora- ble moment, when the volumes of fiery smoke roll away, and over the masts of that sixty-gun ship, whose batteries are blazing upon the hill, you behold Mr. Blackstone's farm changed to an ill-built town of about two thousand dwelling houses, mostly of wood ; with scarce any public buildings, but eight or nine churches, the old State House, and Faneuil Hall ; Roxbury be- yond, an insignificant village ; a vacant marsh in all the space now occupied by Cambridgeport and East Cambridge, by Chelsea and East Boston ; and beneath your feet the town of Charlestown, consisting in the morning of a line of about three hundred houses, wrap- ped in a sheet of flames at noon, and reduced at even tide to a heap of ashes. " But those fires are kindled on the altar of liberty. American Independence is established. American Commerce smiles on the spot ; and now from the top of one of the triple hills of Mr. Blackstone's farm, a stately edifice arises, which seems to invite us as to an observatory. As we look down from this lofty structure, we behold the third picture a crowded, .busy scene We see beneath us a city containing eighty t>r ninety thousand inhabitants, and mainly built of brick and granite. Vessels of every description are moored al EDWARD EVERETT. 81 *" - " the wharves. Long lines of commodious and even stately houses cover a space which, within the memory of man, wfcs in a state of nature. Substantial blocks of warehouses and stores have forced their way to the channel. Faneuil Ha41 itself, the consecrated and un- changeable, has swelled to twice its original dimensions. Atheneums, hospitals, asylums, and infirmaries, adorn the streets. The school house rears its modest front in- every quarter of the city, and sixty or seventy churches attest the children are content to walk in the good old ways of their fathers. Connected with the city by eight bridges, avenues, or ferries, you behold a range of to'wns most of them municipally distinct, but all of them in reality forming, with Boston, one vast metropolis, animated by one commercial life. Shading off from these, you see that most lovely back-ground, a succes- sion of -happy settlements, spotted with villas, farm houses, and cottages ; united to Bos-ton by a constant intercourse ; sustaining the capital from their fields and gardens, and prosperous in the reflux of the city's wealth. Of the social life included within this circuit, and of all that in times past has adorned and ennobled it, commercial industry has been an active element, and has exalted itself by an intimate association with every thing else we hold dear. Within this circuit what me- morials strike the eye ! what recollections what insti- tutions what patriotic treasures and names that cannot die! There lie the canonized precincts of Lexington and Concord ; there rise the sacred heights of Dorches- ter and Concord ; there is Harvard, the ancient and venerable, foster-child of pubji-c and private liberality 82 LIVING ORATOB5 IN AMERICA. in- every part of the State ; to whose existence Charles- town gave the first impulse, to whose growth and use- fulness the opulence of Boston has at all times minis- tered with open hand. Still farther on than the eye can rtfach, four lines of communication by railroad arrd steam have within our own day united with the capital, by bands of iron, a still broader circuit of towns and villages. Hark to the voice of life and business which sounds along the lines ! While we speak, one of them is shooting onward to the illimitable West, and all are uniting with the other kindred enterprises, to form one harmonious and prosperous whole* in which town and country, agriculture and manufactures, labor and capital, art and nature wrought and compacted into one grand system are constantly gathering and diffusing, concen- trating and radiating the economical, the social, the moral blessings of a liberal and diffusive commerce.'' The second strong feature in the mind of Mr. Everett, is his acute sensibility to patriotic associations. He has developed this on several great historical occa- sions. For instance, on laying the corner-stone of the monument at Concord, Massachusetts, April 19, 1825, he described the utility of such memorials in the follow- ing eloquent strain : " There is not a people on earth so abject, as to think that national courtesy requires them to hush up the tale of the glorious exploits of their fathers and countrymen. France is at peace with Austria and Prussia; but she does not demolish her beautiful bridges, baptized with the names of the battle fields, where Napoleon annihi- their armies ; nor tear down the columns, moulten BDWAKD EVEKETT. 83 out ot the heaps of their captured artillery. England is at peace with France and Spain, but does she sup- press the names of Trafalgar and the Nile; does she overthrow the towers of Blenheim castle, eternal monu- ments of the disasters of France ; does she tear down from the rafters of her chapels, where they have for ages waved in triumph, consecrated to the God of bat- tles, the banners of Cressy and Agincourt ? No ; she is wiser ; wiser, did I say ? she is truer, juster to the memory of her fathers and the spirit of her children. The national character, in some of its most important elements, must be formed, elevated, and strengthened from the materials which history presents. Are we to be eternally ringing the changes upon Marathon and Thermopylae ; and going back to find in obscure texts of Greek and Latin the great exemplars of patriotic virtue ? I rejoice that we can find them nearer home, in our own country, on our own soil ; that strains of the noblest sentiment, that ever swelled in the breast of man, are breathing to. us out of every page of our country's history, in the native eloquence of our mother tongue ; that the colonial and the provincial councils of America, exhibit to us models of the spirit and cha- racter, which gave Greece and Rome their name and their praise among the nation. Here we ought to go for our instruction ; the lesson is plain, it is clear, it is applicable. When we go to ancient history, we are bewildered with the difference of manners and institu- tions. We are willing to pay our tribute of applause to the memory of Leonidas, who fell nobly for his country, in the face of the foe. But when we trace him to his g4 LIVING ORATOfcS IN AxMERICA. home, we are confounded at the reflection, that the same Spartan heroism to which he sacrificed himself at Thermopylae, would have led him to tear his only child, it happened to be a sickly babe, the very object for which all that is kind and good in man rise up to plead, from the bosom of its mother, and carry it out to be eaten by the wolves of Taygetus. We feel a glow of admiration at the heroism displayed at Marathon, by the ten thousand champions of invaded Greece ; but we cannot forget that the tenth part of the number were slaves, unchained from the work-shops and door-posts of their masters, to go and fight the battles of freedom. I do not mean that these examples are to destroy the interest with which we read the history of ancient times; they possibly increase that interest, by the singular con- trast they exhibit. But they do warn us, if we need the warning, to seek our great practical lessons of pati i- otism at home ; out of the exploits and sacrifices, of which our own country is the theatre ; out of the cha- racters of our own fathers. Them we know, the high- souled, natural, unaffected, the citizen heroes. We know what happy firesides they left for the cheerless camp. We know with what pacific habits they dared the perils of the field. There is no mystery, no ro- mance, no madness, under the name of chivalry, about them. It is all resolute, manly resistance, for con- science' and liberty's sake, not merely of an over- whelming power, but of all the force of long-rooted habits, and the native love of order and peace. " Above all, their blood calls to us from the soil which we tread, it beats in our veins; it cries to us, D^* EDWARD EVEKETT. 85 merely in the thrilling words of one of the first victims in the cause, 'My sons scorn to be slaves;' but it cries with a still more moving eloquence, ' My sons, forget not your fathers.' " On a like occasion, at Lexington, the 19th (20th) of April, 1835, he expressed himself in a similar strain : " And you, brave and patriotic men, whose ashes are gathered in this humble place of deposit, no time shall rob you of the well-deserved meed of praise ! You, too, perceived not less clearly than the more illustrious patriots whose spirit you caught, that the decisive hour had come. You felt with them that it could not, must not be shunned. You had resolved it should not. Reasoning, remonstrance had been tried ; from your own town-meetings, from the pulpit, from beneath the arches of Faneuil Hall, every note of argument, of ap- peal, of adjuration, had sounded to the foot of the throne, and in vain. The wheels of destiny rolled on; the great design of Providence must be fulfilled ; the issue must be nobly met, or basely shunned. Strange it seemed, inscrutable it was, that your remote and quiet village should be the chosen altar of the first great sacrifice. But so it was ; tfoe summons came and found you wait- ing ; and here in the centre of your dwelling places, within sight of the homes you were to enter no more, between the village church where your fathers wor- shipped, and the grave-yard where they lay at rest, bravely and meekly, like Christian heroes, you sealed the cause with your blood. Parker, Munroe, Hadley, the Harringtons, Muzzy, Brown : alas, ye cannot hear my words; no v r > ;** <*f the archangel. shall tvn- 86 LIVING OKATOttS IN AMERICA. trate your urns ; but to the end of time your lemem- brance shall be preserved ! To the end of time, the soil whereon ye fell is holy ; and shall be trod with rever- ence, while America has a name among the nations ! " And now ye are going to lie down beneath yon sim- ple stone, which marks the place of your mortal agony. Fit spot for your last repose ! Where should the soldier rest, but where he fell ! " For ages to come, the characters graven in the endu- ring marble shall tell the unadorned tale of your sacri- fice ; and ages after that stone itself has crumbled into dust, as inexpressive as yours, history, undying history, shall transmit the record ! Aye, while the language we speak retains its meaning in the ears of men ; while a sod of what is now the soil of America shall be trod by the foot of a freeman, your names and your memory shall be cherished!" Connected with Mr. Everett's imagination and re- fined sensibility to patriotic associations, is a third attri- bute yet more dignified ; it consists of a capacity and disposition to appreciate every form of exalted worth. Numerous instances might be adduced, but we shall quote only two or three. In his address before the Lit- erary Societies of Amherst College, August 25, 1835, he described the death of one great man, and the mental glories of several others, in the following eloquent style : " It is plain that Copernicus, like his great contempo- rary Columbus, though fully conscious of the boldness and the novelty of his doctrine, saw but a part of the changes it was to effect in science. After harboring in KDWARH EVERETT. 87 his bosom for long, long years, that pernicious heresy, the solar system, he died on the day of the appearance of his book from the press. The closing scene of his life, with a little help from the imagination, would fur- nish a noble subject for an artist. For twenty-five years, he has resolved and matured iu his mind, his system of the heavens. A natural mildness of disposition, border- ing on timidity, a reluctance to encounter controversy, and a dread of persecution, have led him to withhold his ' work from the press ; and to make known his system but to a few confidential disciples and friends. At length he draws near his end; he is seventy-three years of age, and he yields his work on ' the revolutions of the heavenly orbs' to his friends for publication. The day, at last, has come, on which it is to be ushered into the world. It is the twenty-fourth of May, 1543. On that day, the effect, no doubt, of the intense excitement of his mind, operating upon an exhausted frame, an effu- sion of blood brings him to the gates of the grave. His last hour has come ; he lies stretched upon the couch, from which he will never rise, in his apartment at the Canonry at Frauenberg, in East Prussia. The beam* of the setting sun glance through the gothic windows of his chamber ; near his bed-side is the armillary sphere, which he has contrived, to represent his theory of the heavens, his picture, painted by himself, the amuse- ment of his earlier years, hangs before him ; beneath it is his astrolabe and other imperfect astronomical instru- ments ; and around him are gathered his sorrowing disci- ples. The door of his apartment opens ; the eye of HP ^pr>-,.fi"~ -n/., i s turned to see who enters : it is a 83 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. friend, who brings him the first -printed copy of his im. mortal treatise. He knows that in that book he contra- dicts all that had ever been distinctly taught by former philosophers ; he knows that he has rebelled against the sway of Ptolemy, which the scientific world had acknow- ledged for a thousand years ; he knows that the popular mind will be shocked by his innovations ; he knows, that the attempt will be made to press even religion into the service against him ; but he knows that his book is true. He is dying, but he leaves a glorious truth, as his dying bequest, to the world. He bids the friend who has brought it, place himself between his window and his bed-side, that the sun's rays may fall upon the precious volume, and he may behold it once, before his eye grows dim. He looks upon it, takes it in his hands, presses it to his breast, and expires. But no, he is not wholly gone! A smile lights up his dying countenance; a beam of returning intelligence kindles in his eye ; his lips move ; and the friend, who leans over him, can hear him faintly murmur the beautiful sentiments, which the Christian lyrist, of a later age, has so finely expressed in verse : * Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell, with all your feeble light! Farewell, thou ever-changing moon, pale empress of the night! And thou, refulgent orb of day, in brighter flames arrayed, My soul, which springs beyond thy sphere, no more demands thy aid. Ye stars are but the shining dust of my divine abode, The pavements of those heavenly courts, where I shall reign with God.' " So died the great Columbus of the heavens. His doctrine, at first, for want of a general diffusion ot EDWARD EVERETT. knowledge, forced its way with difficulty against the deep-rooted prejudices of the age. Tycho Brahe at- tempted to restore the absurdities of the Ptolemaic sys- tem ; but Kepler, with a sagacity, which more than atones for all his strange fancies, laid hold of the theory of Copernicus, with a grasp of iron, and dragged it into repute. Galileo turned his telescope to the heavens, and observed the phases of Venus, which Copernicus boldly predicted must be discovered, as his theory required their appearance ; and lastly Newton arose, like a glori- ous sun, scattering the mist of doubt and opposition, and ascended the heavens full orbed and cloudless, establish- ing at once his own renown and that of his predecessors, and crowned with the applauses of the world ; but declaring, with that angelic modesty which marked his character, ' I do not know what J may appear to the world ; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy, playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in finding now and then a pebble, or prettier shell than or- dinary, while the great ocean of truth lay all undis- covered before me.' " But of all Mr. Everett's eloquent productions, the one most pertinent to the topic now under consideration, is his eulogy on Adams and Jefferson, delivered at Charles- town, August 1, 1826. In this he said: " The jubilee of America is turned into rriourning. Its joy is mingled with sadness ; its silver trumpet breathes a mingled strain. Henceforward and for ever, while America exists among the nations of the earth, the first emotion on the Fourth of July, shall be of joy and triumph in the great event which immortalizes tho 00 LIVI.VG OUATORS IN AMERICA. day, the second shall be one of chastised and tender recollection of the venerable men, who departed on the morning of the jubilee. This mingled emotion of triumph and sadness has sealed the moral beauty and sublimity of our great anniversary. In the simple com- memoration of a victorious political achievement, there seems not enough to occupy all our purest and best feel- ings. The fourth of July was before a day of unshaded triumph, exultation, and national pride : but the angel of death has mingled in the all-glorious pageant, to teach us we are men. Had our venerated fathers left us on any other day, the day of the united departure of two such men would henceforward have been remembered but as a day of mourning. But now, while their de- cease has gently chastened the exultations of the triumphant festival ; the banner of independence will wave cheerfully over the spot where they repose. The whole nation feels, as with one heart, that since it must sooner or later have been bereaved of its revered fathers, it could not have wished that any other had been the day of their decease. Our anniversary festival was before triumphant; it is now triumphant and sacred. It before called out the young and ardent, to join in the public rejoicings; it now also speaks, in a touching voice, to the retired, to the grey-headed, to the mild and peaceful spirits, to the whole family of sober freemen. With some appeal of joy, of admiration, of tenderness, it henceforth addresses every. American heart. It is henceforward, what the dying Adams pro- nounced it, a great and a good day. It is full of great- ness, and full of goodness. It is absolute and complete. EDWARD EVERETT. 91 The death of the men, who declared oui independence their death on the day of the jubilee, was all that was wanting to the fourth of July. To die on that day, and to die together, was all that was wanting to Jefferson and Adams. " Think not, fellow citizens, that in the mere formal dis- charge of my duty this day, I would overrate the melan- choly interest of the great occasion. Heaven knows, I do anything but intentionally overrate it. I labor only for words, to do justice to your feelings and to mine. I can say nothing, which does not sound as cold, as tame, and as inadequate to myself as to you. The theme is too great and too Surprising, the men are too great and good to be spoken of, in this cursory manner. There is too much in the contemplation of their united characters, their services, the day and coincidence of their death, to be properly described, Or to be fully felt at once. I dare not come here and dismiss, in a few summary paragraphs, tlie characters of men, who have filled such a space in the history of their age. It would be a disrespectful familiarity with men of their lofty spirits, their rich endowments, their deep counsels, and wise measures, their long and honorable lives, to endea- vor thus to weigh and estimate them. I leave that arduous task, to the genius of kindred elevation, by whom to-morrow it will be discharged.* I feel the mournful contrast in the fortunes of the first and best of men, that after a life in the highest walks of usefulness ; after conferring. benefits, not merely on a neighborhood, An Eulogy was delivered on Adams and Jefferson, on the follow* ' ing dav ; n Faneuil Hall, by Daniel Webster. ' 92 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. a city, or even a state, but on a whole continent, and a posterity of kindred men ; after having stood in the first estimation for talents, services, and influence, among millions of fellow citizens, a day should come, which closes all up; pronounces a brief blessing on their memory; gives an hour lo the actions of a crowded life ; describes in a sentence what it took years to bring to pass, and what is destined for years and ages to con- tinue and operate on posterity ; forces into a few words the riches of busy days of action and weary nights of meditation ; passes forgetfully over many traits of char- acter, many counsels and measures, which it cost per- haps years of discipline and effort to mature ; utters a funeral prayer ; chants a mournful anthem ; and then dismisses all into the dark chambers of death and forgetfulness. " But, no, fellow citizens, we dismiss them not to the chambers of forgetfulness and death. What we ad- mired, and prized, and venerated in them, can never die, nor dying, be forgotten. I had almost said that they are now beginning to live ; to live that life of unimpaired influence, of unclouded fame, of unmingled happiness, for which their talents and services were destined. They were of the select few, the least portion of whose life dwells in their physical existence ; whose hearts have watched, while their senses have slept ; whose souls have grown up into a higher being ; whose pleasure is to be useful ; whose wealth is an unblemished reputa- tion ; who respire the breath of honorable fame ; who have deliberately and consciously put what is called life to hazard, that they may live in the hearts of those who EDWARD EVERETT. 93 come after. Such men do not, cannot die. To be cold, and motion)ess : and breathless ; to feel not and speak, not ; this is not the end of existence to the men who have breathed their spirits into the institutions of their coun try, who have stamped their characters on the pillars of the age, who have poured their hearts' blood into the channels of the public prosperity. Tell me, ye, who tread the sods of yon sacred height, is Warren dead ? Can you not still see him, not pale and prostrate, the blood of his gallant heart pouring out of his ghastly wound, but moving resplendent over the field of honor, with the rose of heaven upon his cheek, and the fire of liberty in his eye ? Tell me, ye, who make your pious pilgrimage to the shades of Vernon, is Washington in- deed shut up in that cold and narrow house ? That which made these men, and men like these, cannot die. The hand that traced the charter of independence is indeed motionless, the eloquent lips that sustained it are hushed ; but the lofty spirits that conceived, resolved, matured, maintained it, and which alone to such men, ' make it life to live/ these cannot expire ; ' These shall resist the empire of decay, When time is o'er, and worlds have passed away : Cold in the dust, the perished heart may lie, But that, which warmed it once, can never die.' " Having presented the foregoing outlines of Mr. Everett's professional career, with diversified extracts from his works to exemplify the more prominent traits of his mind, we come now to the more delicate task of projecting a specific analysis of his eloquence. We 94 LIVING OBATORd IN AMERICA. have endeavored to show What he has been and is as a scholar, divine, professor, politician, and popular writer: it remains to inquire into his merits as an orator. If we mistake not, they will be found to consist mainly in natural taste, cultivated talent, and consummate art. In the first place, it is evident that Mr. Everett was naturally endowed with acute and discriminating taste. This quality highly refined, and grace of conception, are among his best elements of oratorical character ; and, as we shall see in the sequel, these go hand in hand with elaborate execution and delicate finish. They are attributes both elegant and appropriate, " like to those hanging locks of young Apollo." He may have more of that taste which is skillful to use, than of the genius which is powerful to originate ; but this regulating faculty is doubtless of great value ; indeed, without it genius itself is but sublime madness. It is an attribute which, in its perfection, is as uncom- mon as it is useful ; since, as Chateaubriand remarks, "the sure touch which draws from the lyre the exact tone it ought to render, is more rare than even the fa- culty that creates." Talent and genius, diversely dif- fused, latent and unrecognized, as Montesquieu says, " frequently pass through us without unpacking," they exist in equal proportions in all ages, but in the course of those ages, it is only among certain natures, and at certain periods of time, that taste is developed in its purity. Before this period arrives, and after its conclu- sion, all will be imperfect through deficiency or excess. Hence the reason why finished productions are so rare ; for they must necessarily emanate from the happy union EDWARD EVEEETT. 95 of taste and genius. But this rare concurrence, like the concurrence of certain stars, seems to require the revolution of ages for its consummation, and then its duration is but momentary." Suppose a clear and gentle stream flowing through a cultivated glade, on a bed of the purest gravel; its bank generally smooth and level, sometimes indented and varied in height, but with all rudeness concealed by tufts of flowers, fragrant shrubs, elegant trees, and trail- ing plants hanging over the clear waters ; while all the delicious objects are rendered yet more soft and enchant- ing by the clear mirror that reflects them, like Milton's limped fountain in Paradise "Spread Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved, Pure as the expanse of heaven :" and in such a picture we have a fair type of Mr. Everett's mind. Like all his faculties, his taste is doubt- less greatly indebted to intense and protracted cultiva- tion, but its latent source in his own bosom has alw r ays been open, flowing, and cure. His earliest compositions were highly poetical in both spirit and form, and to this day everything from his pen is " veined with gold and dusted o'er with gems." Glancing back through all his brilliant career to its obscure beginning, he undoubt- edly may say : u Oh, I remember well ! When, like a sea-shell with its sea-born strain, My soul aye rang with music of the lyre ; And my heart shed its love as leaves their dew A honey dew, and throve on what it shed." 96 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. - Secondly, in addition to native taste, it is evident that Mr. Everett possesses a large measure of cultivated tal- ent. He is not only endowed by nature with great acuteness of mental perception and moral sensibility, but he has laboriously acquired that fidelity of hand which, aided by these powers, imparts precision, symmetry, and beauty to all his works. He is an illustrious instance showing what perseverance, study, observation and patronage can achieve to develop genius or supply its spontaneous worth. Hazlitt has said that great natural advantages are sel- dom combined with great acquired ones, because they render the labor requisite to attain the last superfluous and irksome. It is only necessary to be admired ; and if we are admired for the graces of our persons, we shall not be at much pains to adorn our minds* To substan- tiate this position, he adds that if Pope had been a beau- tiful youth, he would not have written the Rape of the Lock ; and that a beautiful woman, who has only to show herself to be admired ; and is famous by nature, will be in no danger of becoming a blue stocking, to* at- tract notice by her learning, or to hide her defects. To this it may be replied that Milton was a beautiful youth, and yet he wrote Paradise Lost; moreover, that the greatest poets, artists, scholars and orators of every age, have been the most industrious in acquiring and compo- sing ; however brilliant their imaginations, however in- tense their capacities, or harmonious their expressions, it was the superior power of arranging their materials, which rendered their genius most useful to their fellow- beings. Without the lucidus ordo of Horace, the EDWARD EVERETT. 97 superb ideas are of little use to the world. " He hath no power, who hath no power to use," and this master- ship is acquired only by long practice. Not that labor alone can produce perfection. Industry will improve mediocrity, but can never elevate it to the highest excellence, by endowing it with the power to in- vent. Susceptibility to the beauty of expression, or the vivid portraiture of the passions, may be keenly felt by the spirit naturally of a delicate tone, but cannot be taught, even if the teacher were an angel from heaven. Still, we think it truly said above, that persons in every exalted sphere who are by native attributes best endowed, are generally the most industrious. No men are more con- scious of the weakness of human nature than they, and none feel more deeply that whatever their latent genius may be, nothing but the most incessant industry and application, can fully reveal it. For instance, to refer to an artist, whom our orator in many respects greatly resembles, Claude never left his pictures, or his studies on the banks of the Tiber, to go in search of meaner en- joyments, or ceased to gaze upon the glittering sunny vales and distant hills ; and while his eye, naturally acute, became still better educated, while he scanned the clear sparkling hues and lovely forms of Nature, his hand delineated them on the lucid canvass in colors that seem destined never to decay. The career of Mr. Everett shows that while yet a youth, he comprehended and acted upon the great prin- ciple of Apelles " Nulla dies sine lined ;"* and still more glorious maxim of Napoleon " Une heure perdue est * Not a day without practice. 98 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. une chance pour le malheur de I' avemr."* Thus feel- ing and acting, like all brave souls before him, he has demonstrated in his own person that no force of law, prejudice, or penury can arrest the predestined hero in his strenuous pursuit, or prevent him from gratifying his burning ambition to advance the divine art he was born to honor, and of which he is the impassioned devotee. To such a votary, excellence is truly " a rul- ing passion," and closes his eyes at night with aspira- tions for ultimate success ; haunts his slumbers with dreams of unattained perfection, and flashes invincible energy on his brain at the dawn of every morning thought. It was under this influence that Shakspeare saw the ghost of a king : Puck put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes ; Ariel drank the air before him ; Homer measured the gigantic stride of the shade of Achilles in hell, when Ulysses told him his son was worthy of his sire. It was when thus inspired, that blind Milton saw and portrayed the effulgent blaze of Satan, in the midst of his astonished council, after his success on earth ; Virgil that glorious vision of Minerva, shouting to the Greeks in the flames of Troy ; and Tasso that exquisite conception of the angel Gabriel tipping the hills as the sun arose with commingled hues of silver and gold. To attain the highest order of suc- cess, undoubtedly a stupendous power must be acquired, and all but insurmountable anxieties, labors and strug- gles, must be overcome. But if the aspirant proceed humbly, and yet firmly, on his upward way, his reward * One hour idled away jeopardizes the happinesa of all lh future. EDWARD EVERETT. 99 will be both sure and great, for his mind will become impregnated with power, and his hand fearless by prac- tice, so that glorious visions cannot rise more rapidly on his fancy than he will shower them with inspired pro- fusion on the enraptured hearts and understandings of mankind. Mr. Everett early began to "hold high converse with the mighty dead ;" and while he aimed to become a finished writer and effective public speaker, he under- stood what were the objects to be promoted, and the duties to be performed, in order to the complete attain- ment of the excellence he desired. He saw what pains were thought due by a Roman statesman and orator, to the acquisition of the art, as he read in his favorite au- thor, the following extract from De Claris Oratoribus : " The other chief orators of the day," says Cicero, "being then in the magistracy, were almost daily heard by me in their public discourses. Curio was then tribune of the people, but never spoke, having once been deserted by his audience in a mass. Quintus Metellus Celer though not an orator, was not wholly unable to speak . Varius, Carbo, and Pomponius were eloquent, and they were continually upon the rostrum. Caius Julius, also, the curule sedile, almost daily made a set speech. My passion for listening received its first disappointment when Cotta was banished ; but in diligent attendance on the other orators, I not only devoted a part of each day to reading, writing, and discussing; but extended my studies beyond the exercises of oratory, to philosophy and the law. In the following year, Varius was banished under his own law. In the study of the civil law, I em- 100 LIVING ORATORd IN AMERICA. ployea myself under Scsevola, who, although he did not formally receive pupils, was willing to admit those who desired it, to be present while he gave legal opinions to his clients. The next year, Sylla and Pompey were consuls, and I formed an intimate acquaintance with the whole art of public speaking, in listening to the daily harangues of the tribune Sulpicius. At the same time. Philo, the head of the academy, having, with the rest of the aristocracy of Athens, fled to Rome in the Mithrida- tic war, I gave myself wholly up to him and the study of philosophy, not merely from the delight I felt in the variety and magnitude of the subject, but because the career of judicial eloquence seemed for ever shut up. Sulpicius had fallen that year, and in the next, three other orators were most cruelly slain ; Catulus, Antony, and Julius. The same year, I employed myself under the direction of Molo the Rhodian, a consummate pleader and teacher. I mention these things, Brutus, although somewhat aside from our purpose, that you might, as you desired, become acquainted with my course, and perceive the manner in which I followed in the steps of Hortensius. For three years, the city had respite from war, but the orators were deceased, retired, or banished ; even Crassus and the two Lentuli were absent. Hor- tensius then took the lead as counsd ; Antistius daily rose in reputation; Piso spoke often, Pomponius less frequently, Carbo rarely, Philippus once or twice. All this time, I was occupied day and night, in every kind of study. I studied with the stoic Diodotus, who, after hav- ing long lived with me, lately died at my house. By him I was trained, among other things, in logic, itself a EDWARD EVERETT. 101 kind of close and compendous eloquence, without which even you, Brutus, have admitted, that the true eloquence* which is but expanded logic, cannot be acquired. \Vith this teacher, in his numerous and various branches, I was so assiduous, that I did not miss a day in oratorical exercises. I had also a declamatory discussion, (to use the present phrase) with Piso often, and with Quinfu* Pompey, or some one .else, every day. This was fre- quently in Latin, but oftener in Greek; both because the Greek language, in itself more adapted to ornament, tended to form the habit of an elegant Latin manner, and because, unless I used the Greek language, I could neither receive instruction nor correction from eminent Greek teachers. Meantime followed the tumults for the restoration of the republic ; the cruel deaths of the three orators, Scaevola, Carbo, and Antistius ; the return of Cotta, Curio, Crassus, the Lentuli, and Pompey; the establishment of the laws and the tribunals ; in a word, the restoration of the Commonwealth. Of the orators, however, Pomponius, Censorinus, and Murena, perished. I then, for the first time, undertook the pleading both of public and private causes ; not, as is commonly done, learning my profession in the practice of it, but, as far as I had been able to effect it, entering the forum with my profession learned. At the same time I studied under Molo, who had come to Rome, in Sylla's dictatorship, on business of the Rhodians. My first public cause, therefore, the defence of Sextus Roscius, was so commended, that there was none which I was not thought competent to undertake. Many causes were 102 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. now put into my hands, which I brought into court, not merely diligently, but laboriously prepared. "And now, since you seem to wish to learn my history thoroughly, I will mention some things, which might otherwise seem unimportant. At this period, I labored under extreme emaciation and weakness of body ; my neck was long and slender, and my whole frame and constitution such as are usually thought to render the vio- lent exercise of the lungs fatal. This circumstance was matter of the greater anxiety to my friends, because I was in the habit of speaking everything on a high key, with out variety, with the utmost power of voice and exer- tion of my body. When, therefore, my friends and physicians advised me to abandon pleading, I determined to encounter any danger, rather than give up the re- nown which I hoped to acquire as an orator. Having, however, come to the conclusion, that by reducing and managing the voice, and changing my mode of speaking, T could escape the impending danger, I determined, for the sake of altering my manner, to visit Asia. Accord- ingly, after having been two years in the practice of my profession, and acquiring a standing in the forum, I left Rome. When I came to Athens,*! devoted myself six months, under Antiochus, a most noble and prudent sage of the old academy, to the study of philosophy, a study which I had early cultivated, had never lost sight of, and now renewed under this admirable teacher. At the same time, however, I practised speaking diligently, under Demetrius, the Syrian, an experienced and re- spectable teacher of the art. I afterwards made the tour of Asia, with orators of the first celebrity, under EinVARL) EVERETT 103 whom, with their full assent, I regularly exercised myself in speaking. The chief of these was Menippus of Stratonice, in my opinion the most eloquent Asiatic orator of his time, and, if to be free from everything offensive or impertinent be the test of Atticism, not unworthy to be reckoned among Attic orators. I was, also constantly with Dionysius, of Magnesia, ^Eschylus, of Enidus, and Xenocles, of Adramyttium ; the principal rhetoricians at that time in Asia. Not satisfied with these, I repaired to Rhodes, and applied myself to Milo, who had instructed me at Rome, who was not only a pleader himself, in real causes, and an eminent writer, but most discreet in remarking and correcting faults as an instructor. He exerted himself, as far as possible, to reduce my manner, redundant as it was, and overflow- ing with juvenile license and excess; and sought to bring it within proper limits. After spending two years in this way, I returned, not merely trained, but altered. The extreme effort of my voice in speaking was reduced. My style had become temperate, my lungs strong, and my general health tolerable." The above description bears a strong resemblance to the taste and studies of the American Cicero, in his early days, and vividly portrays the maturity which he, too, attained by means of his European and Asiatic tour. We come now, in the third place, lo consider the consummate art which Mr. Everett displays in all his eloquence, \vritten or spoken. His personal appearance in public is exceedingly neat, appropriate and conciliat- ing. Everything about him is so well arranged that, although an edging of silver marks his hair, and mantles 104 LIVING OEATORS IN AMERICA. his pensive brow, one cannot but feel that he has not yet entirely dismissed his Lothario recollections. The moment he rises to speak, it is easy to perceive that he is an accomplished gentleman ; and before he has uttered many sentences, the intelligent hearer is equally convinced that he is an accomplished orator. His voice and placid manner of delivery are in harmony with the mild character of his sentiments. A calm richness pervades his style, by means of which he soon throws a spell over the hearts of listeners, leading them inwardly to exclaim, "Thy talk is the sweet extract of all speech, And holds mine ear in blissful slavery.- 1 Mr. Everett's originality is evinced less in the vio- lent outbursts of rugged and irrepressible affluence, than in his artistic power over materials deliberately gathered in his calm command over the resources of language, and in the suavity of his style, which is seldom surpassed. It is not congenial for him to be severe his good taste and labored care will still be manifest. Witness the following memorable extract. Some one in the London Quarterly Review, for January, 1828, had slurringly in- timated that the first emigrants to America were crimi- nals in character, and mercenary in design. To this Mr. Everett replied : " A late English writer has permitted himself to say, that the original inhabitants of the United States, and that of the colony of Botany Bay, were pretty nearly modelled on the same plan. The meaning of this slan- derous insinuation is, that the United States were settled . EDWARD EVERETT. 11 J for the wealth of intellect they display, but have not the greatest power to touch the heart or impel the judgment, being deficient alike in soul-stirring thought and depth of feeling. They may be full of labored smoothness and harmonized erudition, but they are, after all, ineffi- cient on the general mind, because they are sterile of genuine pathos and melody. A loftier endowment is requisite to substitute in the place of cold admiration the more ardent sentiments of sympathetic love and re- sistless force. Classical richness, combined with artistic elegance, copious acquisitions embodied in a style pure and mellifluous, sentences abounding in learned rhythm more than in spontaneous vigor, form the main features of this orator's eloquence and his best claims to popular esteem. Rhetorical grace is to composition and delivery, what female figures are to history -pictures however exqui- site the color, and perfect the light and shade, however touching the expression, heroical the forms, and full of majestic action, the result will but feebly interest the hearts of mankind, if the rays of beauty do not irradiate at least some portion of the scene. Over this element no one has a more supreme control than Mr. Everett. His is " the soft precision of the clear Vandyke," and he has executed works which, of their kind, are "inimi- table on earth by model, or by shading pencil drawn." But there is danger of being too uniformly placid and smooth. Writers on art have observed that roughness, in its different modes and degrees, is the ornament, the fringe of beauty, that which gives it life and spirit, and preserves it from baldness and insipidity. If the shaft Ill LIVIXG ORATuRS IX AMERICA. of a column is smooth, the more ornamental part, the capita], is rough ; the facing of the smoothest building has a frize and cornice rough and abruptly projecting : it is the same in vases, and in everything that admits of ornament. Hence Dryden, when describing the cup that contained the heart of Guiscard, calls it " a goblet rich with gems, and rough with gold." The per- manent attraction of an oration, like that of a temple or landscape, depends upon the happy union of warm and cool tints, of smooth parts and rough, picturesque and severely graceful, solemn and gay. The most striking effects are produced by bringing together features totally opposite to each other; but these must be skillfully arranged and blended in various degrees, in order to produce that charm of combination, which is manifest in the consummate works of art and nature. " Like to some goddess hewn in stone, With blooming garlands bound." Too many speakers, like the majority of painters, in modern schools, instead of emulating the great masters of Roman art, ape the Tuscans, the main body of whom, equally inattentive to expression, character, contrast, and propriety of form, it was long ago said contented themselves with giving to tame and puerile ideas, obvi- ous and common-place conceptions, a kind of impor- tance by mastery of execution and a bold but monoto- nous and mannered outline. Here men, like their ex- amples in Holland, finish their works so carefully, be- cause there is a want of substantial and striking worth in thenvand they can only be made interesting by the EDWARD EVERETT. 115 accurate delicacy of their execution. This, however, is not the fault of Mr. Everett. True, his language falls softly like a snow-flake, and his sentences are "like autumn leaves distained with dusky gold ;" but his works, if cool, are not absolutely cold, and his style, if subdued, is yet rich with meaning. " However bright or beautiful itseli The theme he touched, he made it more so by His own light, like a fire-fly on a flower." True eloquence transports the mind " beyond the ignorant present," to ages past, or ages yet to come. It" leads the willing hearer by turns to the dark antiquity of Egypt, to the tranquillity of Arcadian scenes and fairy lands, or to the environs of the great capitals of Greece and Rome, and depicts the universal objects of literary and heroic worth so precious and thrilling to every enlightened and cultivated taste. This power, also, Mr. Everett possesses to a good degree, but it is as a rhetorician mainly that his charms are wrought. His taste, his learning, and his elocution combine pow- erfully to enchant the organs of his hearers, not for amusement only, but the more effectually to conduct reason and motives to the intellect and heart. His man- ner, like his matter, is elaborated with the greatest care, but it does not divert the public eye from higher beau- ties to be absorbed by its lures; by so doing it would be degraded to a mere vehicle of sensual pleasure, a trifling bauble, or a splendid fault. The connection between mere beauty and insipidity, naturalness and deformity, is so very close, that it re- quires *he acutest eye habitually to observe what " thin 116 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. partitions do their bounds divide." It is an interesting fact, that while beauty of the highest kind was attributed by mythological nations to all the superior goddesses, and the ancient artists were required to express it in their representations of them, Venus, the most effemi- nate of that class, was the only one invested with un- substantial blandishments only; whereas Juno, Pallas, Diana, and other deities were characterized with nobler traits, having a mixture of awful majesty, savoring of wisdom, warlike valor, and rigid chastity. Beauty and force coalesce in true eloquence and glow with whole- some strength, like the masculine cheek of Minerva, tinged with maidenly modesty. Such an orator, imbued with elegant thought and tender sensibilities, appears before an audience much as Theseus did before Ariadne. Philostratus represents him as being adorned with a plain purple robe, wearing a garland of roses. His whole air is that of one intoxicated with love, calm in its fullness, and absorbed in the admiration of beauty. Every attribute is laid aside, not perfectly in keeping with the subject and place. He has discarded the florid garment, the soft doe skin, and the thyrsus. In him is seen only the refined and yet impassioned lover. His companions are in harmony with himself. The Bac- chants do not clash their cymbals, the Fauns refrain from their flutes, and Pan moderates his leaps, so as not unnecessarily to alarm the beloved. She already feels the charm of the god's presence, and will soon be con- ducted by him over the rocky plain, to cultivated, fra- grant hills, where, surrounded with readiest service and celestial joys, she will taste of love that will never end. CHAPTER III. HENRY CLAY, THE POLITICIAN. THE facts and events which mark the career of Mr. ( lay have frequently been portrayed. Some of the iiiost important of these it will be necessary to recite at the outset ; though biographical detail forms but quite a subordinate element of our present design. The father of our orator was a very respectable Baptist preacher, in the County of Hanover, Virginia, commonly known as " The Slashes," where, on the 12th of April, 1777, his fifth child, Henry, was born. At an early age, he was left without father or fortune to buffet, adverse storms, and to become inured to manual toil. At the age of fourteen he entered a small drug store in Richmond, Virginia, kept by Mr. Richard Denny. His stay there was short, and at the commencement of 1792 he entered the office of Mr. Peter Tinsley, clerk of the High Court of Chancery. In this situation he, of course, came into personal contact with the most distin- guished men in the State, and attracted their attention so strongly by his talents and amiable qualities, that some of them,, particularly Chancellor Wythe and U8 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. GOT ernor Brooke, character of his maturer eloquence. - > Mr. Prentice, "under some emba 7^' *^ n "_ dressed the President of the Society by the t, S of ^ Jury, but he gradually gained confidence frl his own efforts, and, finally, concentrating all h ^Is upon the subject in debate, ^tf^SJ Le with a beauty and compass of vo 1C e, an exuber ance of eloquence, and a force of argument well jrthy of a veteran orator. A gentleman who -heard th s speech has assured us, that it would hardly surTei comparison with the most brilliant efforts made by its author in after life. His reputation as a speaker was course established, and he became immediately a ing champion in all the debates of the Society." Mr. Clay entered on the duties of his profession a Lexington, under not the most flattering auspices, ai appears from his speech of June, 1842, made at 1 same place. In this, he says he ' was without patron without friends, and destitute of the means of paymj his weekly board. I remember how comfortable HENRY CLAY. 119 thought I should be, if I could make 100, Virginia money, per annum, and with what delight I received the first fifteen shilling fee. My hopes were more than realized ; 1 immediately rushed into a lucrative prac tice." Mr. Clay's political career began as early as 1797 when he openly portrayed the evils of domestic slavery His youthful ardor resisted every restraint upon free dom, as was manifest in the manner of his resistanci to the odious Alien and Sedition laws, enacted in 1798-9 In 1803, he was elected to the Legislature of Kentucky, and almost immediately on entering upon the functions of this, his first political office, he won no little notoriety in a severe and successful conflict with Felix Grundy, a forensic antagonist of great force and skill. In 1806, General Adair, one of the Senators of the State in Con- gress, having resigned his place, Mr. Clay was elected to occupy it for the remainder of the term, which was only one year. It was in this capacity that he first ap- peared at Washington. At the moment of his arrival, the Senate was engaged in a debate respecting the expediency of authorizing the construction of a bridge over the Potomac, into which discussion Mr. Clay immediately entered and made a very effective speech. On returning to Kentucky, after the expiration of his term in the Senate, he was immediately re-elected to the State Legislature, and at the opening of the next session was chosen speaker of the General Assembly, which office he held for several successive years. In 1809, Mr. Thurston, another Senator in Congress, having resigned his place, Mr. Clay was called upon to 120 LIVING OEATORS JN AMERICA. occupy it for the remainder of his term, which was two years, and took his seat accordingly in the Senate, at the close of that year. The leading questions of the two ses- sions of 1810, and 1811, were the occupation of West Flo- rida, and the renewal of the charter of the Bank. On these, and other topics which came before the Senate, Mr. Clay distinguished himself as one of the ablest cham- pions of the party then in power. On the expiration of his term of service in the Senate in 1811, he returned to Kentucky, and was immediately after elected a mem- ber of the House of Representatives of the United States, where he took his seat in the winter of the same year. " Mr. Clay was at this time about thirty-five vears of age, a period of life when the intellectual pow- ers of most men have just attained their full maturity, and are beginning to mark out for them the place whicn they are to occupy in the opinion of the world. So much, however, had Mr. Clay anticipated the usual pro- gress, and such already was the extent of his influence, not merely in his own State, but on the wider theatre of national politics, that, on his first appearance as a new member in the House of Representatives, he was chosen Speaker by a vote of nearly two to one over two opposing candidates. No mark of respect and con- fidence at all equal to this has ever been bestowed by the House of Representatives upon any other person, and the best proof that it was not the result of any com- bination of accidental circumstances or momentary caprice, is to be found in the fact, that the confidence thus bestowed, was never afterwards withdrawn or shaken. During the long period of Mr. Clay's congres- HENRY CLAY. 121 sional career, which lasted, with two short intervals, from this time till his entrance into the Department of State, in 1825, he was regularly elected Speaker of each successive House of Representatives, we believe, with- out opposition. It is admitted, in fact, by all, that in discharging the arduous and honorable duties of this place, he was singularly successful. Though eminently prompt, firm, and decisive, the frankness and urbanity of his manner prevented any one from taking offence, and rendered him a general favorite." At the begin- ning of the year 1814, he was appointed one of the Commissioners to treat for peace with Great Britain, and having accepted the trust, retired, of course, from the Speaker's chair. The circumstances attending his resignation, which are stated in the following extract from one of his biographers, strongly evince the extent of his influence over his political associates, and his general popularity with the members of all parties : " The official duties which now devolved upon Miv Clay, required him to resign the Speaker's chair. At this time, his influence in the House of Representatives was equal to that which he had exercised, some years before, in the Legislature of his adopted State. His friends and his enemies agree in the remark, that his power was almost unlimited. His party was a majority in the House, and, so unbounded was the confidence which its members reposed in his wisdom and integrity, that he could sway them by a motion of his hand. Whenever the course of a discussion failed to meet his approbation, he descended from the chair, and, by min- gling in the debate, gave, at once, a new character to 122 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. the proceedings. His resignation was tendered on the 16th of January, and accompanied by a beautiful and affecting speech, which touched every heart in the assembly, and unsealed many a fountain of tears. In the generous feelings of the hour, even the federalists wept freely, that a master-spirit was going out from among them. A resolution, thanking him in fervid lan- guage for the impartiality with which he had adminis- tered the arduous duties of office, was passed almost unanimously ; only eight or nine members voting against it. Probably there was no other man in the na- tion, who, at that stormy period, could have presided with such signal energy over the deliberations of the popular branch of Congress, and yet have commanded the approbation of so vast a majority of both political parties." During his absence on the mission to Ghent, Mr. Clay visited several of the most interesting portions of Europe, and was everywhere received with marked at- tention. On his return to the United States, he was greeted with great enthusiasm, particularly in his own State. He was immediately re-elected to Congress, and from this time, until his retirement from public life, in 1842, may be regarded as the leading statesman in the councils of the Union. From this condensed biographical sketch of Mr. Clay, we turn more particularly to notice his mental adroitness, ardent nationality of spirit, and impressive manner of address. In the first place, we remark, a bold and effective quality in the personal character of Mr. Clay, is adroit. BENRY CLAY. l&J ness, or tact, in conducting important business. This is a trait quite prominent in his constitution and career, exemplified by him in a way which verifies the follow- ing pointed description : " Talent is something, but tact is everything. Tal- ent is serious, sober, grave and respectable ; tact is all that, and more too. It is not a sixth sense, but it is the life of all the five. It is the open eye, the quick ear, the judging taste, the keen smell, and the lively touch ; the interpreter of all riddles, the surmounter of all difficulties, the remover of all obstacles. It is useful in all places, and at all times. It is useful in solitude, for it shows a man the way into the world ; it is useful in society* for it shows him his way through the world. Talent is power ; tact is skill. Talent is weight ; tact is mo- mentum. Talent knows what to do, tact knows how to do it. Talent makes a man respectable ; tact will make him respected. Talent is wealth ; tact is ready money. For the practical purposes of life, tact carries it against talent, ten to one. There is no want of dramatic tact or talent, but they are seldom together ; so we have suc- cessful pieces which are not respectable, and respectable pieces which are not successful. Take them to the bar, and let them shake their learned curls at each other in legal rivalry ; talent sees its way clearly, but tact is first at iis journey's end. Talent has many a compliment from the bench; but tact touches fees from attorneys and clients. Talent speaks learnedly and logically ; tact, triumphantly. Talent makes the world wonder that it gets along no faster ; tact excites astonishment that it gets along so fast. The secret is, it has no 124 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. weight to carry; it makes no false steps; it hits the right nail on the head ; it takes all hints. " Take them into the church. Talent has always something worth hearing ; tact is sure of abundance of hearers. Talent may obtain a living; tact will make one. Talent gets a good name, but tact gets a great one. Talent conceives ; tact converts. Talent is an honor to the profession ; tact gains honor from the pro- fession. " Take them to court. Talent feels its way ; tact makes its way. Talent commands ; tact is obeyed. Talent is honored with approbation ; tact is blessed with preferment. " Place them in the Senate. Talent has the ear of the house; but tact wins its heart and gains its votes. Talent is fit for employment ; but tact is fitted for it. It has a knack of slipping into place, with a sweet silence and glibness of movement, as a billiard ball insinuates itself into the pocket. It seems to know everything, without learning anything. It wants no drilling. It has no left hand, no deaf ear, no blind side. It puts on no looks of wondrous wisdom, it has no air of profundity ; but plays with the details of place as dexterously as a well taught hand flourishes over the keys of a piano- forte. It has all the air of common place, and all the force and power of genius. Talent calculates clearly ; reasons logically. Tact refutes without contradicting, puzzles the profound without profundity, and without wit, outwits the wise. " Set them together on a race for popularity, pen in hand, and tact will distance talent by half the course. HENRY CLAY. 125 Talent brings to market that which is needed ; tact pro- duces that which is wished for. Talent instructs ; tact enlightens. Talent leads where no one follows ; tact follows where the humor leads. Talent toils for pos- terity ; tact catches the passion of the passing hour Talent is a fine thing to talk about, and be proud of. but tact is useful, portable, always alive, always market- able. It is the talent of talents, the availableness of re- sources, the applicability of power, the eye of discrimi- nation, the right hand of intellect." The adroitness so peculiar to Mr. Clay, was manifested by him from the commencement of his brilliant practice at the bar. We will select a few examples. Two Ger- mans, father and son, were indicted for murder, and were tried in Harrison County. The act of killing was proven by evidence so clear and strong, that it was con- sidered not only a case of murder, but an exceedingly aggravated one. The trial lasted five days, "at the close of which he addressed the jury in the most impas- sioned and eloquent manner, who were so moved by his pathetic appeals that they rendered a verdict of man- slaughter only. After another hard day's struggle he succeeded in obtaining an arrest of judgment, by which his clients were set at liberty. They expressed their gratitude in the warmest terms to their deliverer, in which they were joined by an old ill-favored female, the wife of one and the mother of the other, who adopted a different mode, however, of tendering her thanks, which was by throwing her arms around Mr. Clay's neck and repeatedly kissing him, in the presence of the court and spectators. Respecting her feelings, he did not attempt 126 LIVING Ol.ATORS IN AMERICA to repulse her, but submitted with such grace and dig- nity to her caresses as to elicit outbursts of applause." This sagacious advocate was equally adroit in dis- covering and turning to his advantage, a technical law point, involving doubt. For instance, a client of his, by the name of Willis, indicted for murder, was put on trial. By a mighty effort, Mr. Clay succeeded, in al- most direct defiance of testimony, in creating a division of the jury, as to the nature of the defendant's crime. The Attorney for the Commonwealth obtained a new trial. When his turn came to speak, " Mr. Clay rose, and commenced with assuming the position, that, what- ever opinion the jury might have of the guilt or inno- cence of the prisoner, it was too late to convict him, for he had been once tried, and the law required that no man should be put twice in jeopardy of his life for the same offence. The Court was startled at this assump- tion, and peremptorily prohibited the speaker from pro- ceeding in the argument to maintain it. Mr. Clay drew himself proudly up, and remarking, that, if he was not allowed to argue the whole case to the jury, he could have nothing more to say, made a formal bow to the Court, put his books into his green bag, and, with Roman dignity, left the hall, followed by his associate counsel. The consequence was as he had foreseen. He had not been at his lodgings more than five or ten minutes, when he was waited on by a messenger from the Court, requesting his return, and assuring him that he should be permitted to argue the case in his own way. Instantly he made his re-appearance in the hall, pressed, with the utmost vehemence, the point he had HENRY CLAY. 127 oefore attempted to establish, and, on the ground that his client had once been tried, prevailed on the jury to give him his liberty, without any reference whatever to the testimony against him. Such a decision could not now be obtained in Kentucky, and, at the period in question, was obviously contrary to law." Although frequently employed in criminal cases, he was, says his biographer, not less successful in civil suits. The decision and promptitude of his practice are curi- ously illustrated in the following anecdote : " In suits that involved the land laws of Virginia and Kentucky, he had no rival. But it would be in vain to attempt even an enumeration of the cases, in which, during the early years of his practice, he gathered a rich harvest of gold and fame. In a short biographical no- tice that was given of him about three years ago, we find mention of an incident in his professional life, which was certainly a striking illustration of the rapidity of his intellectual combinations, and his power of seiz- ing intuitively upon the strong points of a case. We give it as a single specimen of what he could do. In con- junction with another attorney of eminence, whose name we have forgotten, he was employed to argue in the Fayette Circuit Court, a question of great difficulty, one, ki which the interests of the litigant parties were both deeply involved. At the opening of the Court, something occurred to call him away, and the whole management of the case devolved on his associate coun- sel. Two days were spent in discussing the points of law, which were to govern the instructions of the Court to the jury, and on each of these points Mr. Clay's 128 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. colleague "was foiled by his antagonist. At the end ot the second day Mr. Clay re-entered the Court. He had not heard a word of the testimony, and knew nothing of the course which the discussion had taken, but, after holding a very short consultation with his colleague, he drew up a statement of the form in which he wished the instructions of the Court to be given to the jury, and accompanied his petition with a few observations so novel and satisfactory, that it was granted without the least hesitation. A corresponding verdict was instantly re- turned by the jury : and thus the case, which had been on the very point of being decided against Mr. Clay's client, was decided in his favor, in less than half an hour after Mr. Clay entered the Court-House." When Mr. Clay began to aspire to the attainment of political distinction, he was obliged, in common with other candidates, to resort to stump speaking, and in the sphere of mental adroitness, showed himself as expert as he had already appeared at the bar. An incident is re- lated, which illustrates his happy tact in seizing and turning to good account trivial circumstances with great effect. Says an acquaintance : " He had been engaged in speaking some time, when a company of riflemen, who had been performing military exercise, attracted by his attitude, concluded to go and hear what that fellow had to say, as they termed it, and accordingly drew near. They listened with respectful attention and evi- dently with. deep interest, until he closed; when one of their number, a man about fifty years of age, who had evidently seen much backwoods service, stood leaning on his rifle, regarding the young speaker with a fixed HENRY CLAY. 129 and most sagacious look. He was apparently the Nim- rod of the company, for he exhibited every characteris- tic of a mighty hunter, buckskin breeches and hunting shirt, coon-skin cap, black bushy beard, and a visage which, had it been in juxtaposition with his leathern bul- let pouch, might have been taken for part and parcel of the same. At his belt hung the knife and hatchet, and the huge indispensable powder-horn across a breast bare and brown as the bleak hills he often traversed, yet which concealed as brave and noble a heart as ever beat beneath a fairer covering. He beckoned with his hand to Mr. Clay to approach him, who immediately complied. 1 Young man/ said he, ' you want to go to the legislature, I see ?' ' Why, yes,' replied Mr. Clay, '' yes, I should like to go, since my friends have seen proper to put me up as a candidate before the people ; I do not wish to be defeated.' 'Are you a good shot?' 'The best in the country.' ' Then you shall go ; but you must give us a specimen of your skill ; we must see you shoot.' ' I never shoot any rifle but my own, and that is at home.' ' No matter, here is old Bess, she never fails in the hands of a markesman ; she has often sent death through a squirrel's head one hundred yards, and daylight through many a red skin twice that distance ; if you can shoot any gun you can shoot old Bess.' 'Well, put up your mark, put up your mark,' replied Mr. Clay. The target was placed at a distance of about eighty yards, when, with all the steadiness of an old experienced marksman, he drew old Bess to his shoulder and fired. The bullet pierced the target near the cdntre. 'Oh, a chance shot! a chance shot !' exclaimed several of his political oppo- 6* 130 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. nents. ' A chance shot ! He might shoot all day and not hit the mark again ; let him try it over, let him try it over.' ' No ; beat that, beat that, and then I will,' retorted Mr. Clay. But as no one seemed disposed to make the attempt, it was considered that he had given satisfactory proof of being the best shot in the county ; and this unimportant incident gained him the vote of every hunter and marksman in the assembly, which was composed principally of that class of persons, as well as the support of the same throughout the county. The most remarkable feature respecting the whole trans- action is yet to be told. Said Mr. Clay, ' I had never before fired a rifle, and have not since.' The result of the election proved Mr. Clay much more popular than it had been supposed he was ; he was elected almost by acclamation. Our astonishment may well be excited, when we consider that this was the first time that he was a candidate for an office, and the circumstances under which it took place. It must be certain that he was esteemed a young man of great promise and ability." Another instance is related similar to the above. During a particular canvas, Mr. Clay met an old hun- ter who had previously been his devoted friend, but who now opposed him because of his action on the passage of the Compensation Bill. "Have you a good rifle, my friend ?" asked Mr. Clay. " Yes." " Does it ever flash ?" " Once only." " What did you do with it, throw it away?" "No, I picked the flint, tried it again, and brought down the game." " Have I ever flashed but on the Compensation Bill ?" -"No" "Will you throw me away?" "No! no'" HENRY CLAY. 131 quickly replied the hunter, nearly overwhelmed by his enthusiastic feelings, " / will pick the flint and try you again !" Ever afterwards he was the unwavering friend of Mr. Clay. Under another head, we shall have occasion to refer to our orator's wonderful expertness at management with the loftiest patriotism, in the emergencies when he introduced and carried his several compromise bills. We are now referring in particular to his sagacious self- control, and power of conciliating the most prejudiced foes. Take the following case of his own stating, which occurred in 1828, while he was travelling in Virginia, accompanied by some friends. " We halted," said he, " at night, at a tavern kept by an aged gentleman, who, after supper sat down by me, and, without hearing my name, but understanding that I was from Kentucky, remarked, that he had four sons in that State, and that he was very sorry they were divided in politics, two being for Adams and two for Jackson. He wished they were all for Jackson. Why ? I asked him. 'Be- cause,' he said, 'that fellow Clay, and Adams, had cheated Jackson out of the Presidency' Have you ever seen any evidence, my old friend, said I, of that ? 'No,' he replied, ' none, and he wanted to see none' But, I observed, looking him directly and steadily in the face, suppose Mr. Clay were to come here and assure you, upon his honor, that it was all a vile calumny, and not a word of truth in it, would you believe him ? ' No,' replied the old man, promptly and emphatically. I sajd to him, in conclusion, will fou be good enough to show me to bed, and bade him good night. The next morn- 132 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. ing, having in the interval learnt my name, he came to me full of apologies, but I at once put him at his ease f by assuring him that I did not feel, in the slightest de- gree, hurt or offended with him." But it was not so easy for others to repress their feel- ings under Mr. Clay's pungent insinuations, as the fol- lowing example will show : On the 2d of September, 1841, Mr. Buchanan took occasion to say that Mr. Tyler had shown himself " a man of mettle," by his veto on the Bank. Mr. Clay replied : ' Rumor had said, that a party of the opposition had visited the President's house, the night after the veto. He (Mr. Clay) did not know as to the fact. But he would suppose a case. There, he would imagine, among those gathered for the great congratulation, was the senator from South Carolina, (Mr. Calhoun) looking as if he were deducting the nicest abstraction that had ever issued from his metaphysical brain. There, he presumed, was the senator from Alabama, (Mr. King) ready to settle, in the most positive manner, any ques- tion of order that might arise. He supposed many others were present. There, too, was the senator from Pennsylvania, (Mr. Buchanan) as their distinguished leader, addressing the President in something like the following manner: " ' May it please your Excellency, my political friends and myself have come this afternoon to deposit at your Excellency's feet the evidences of our loyalty and devo- tion. We have come more particularly to express to your Excellency the congrafulations to which we think you are entitled, for having relieved the country from HENRY CLAY. 133 the danger ot a violation of its constitution, by the es- tablishment of a Barrk of the United States ; and we owe to your Excellency our especial acknowledgments for the veto with which you have favored the country to-day ; and for special reasons, we straggled against your Excellency's friends in both houses of Congress, for days and weeks together ; we exhausted all our powers of logic and arguments to defeat the alarming measure ; but, in spite of that, the friends of your Excellency, in both Houses, proved too strong for us, and carried it against our united exertions; and we come now to thank your Excellency, that you have done that against your friends, which we could not accomplish with all our exertions.' " It is said that Mr. Benton came in for his share of this castigation, and that while Mr. Clay was describing his hypothetical part with graphic power, he rose, and denied with great vehemence that he was there. " It was only a supposition," said Mr. Clay. Mr. Buchanan betrayed much feeling when he rose to rejoin. Mr. King colored, and Mr. Calhoun flatly denied. Mr. Clay desired each of them to consider that it was only an hypothesis. Rumor adds that Mr. Buchanan had much trouble to convince his constituents that he did not make that speech to his " Excellency." We shall have occasion to witness the mental adroit- ness of Mr. Clay developed in its noblest forms, while we proceed to notice, secondly, his ardent nationality of spirit. One of the earliest topics that engrossed this great patriot's attention, was that of the character and influ- 134 LIVING ORATOE3 IN AMERICA. ence of American slavery. This matter has frequently been discussed by him in the course of his public life. On Jan. 20, 1827, in a speech delivered at Washington, he said : " If I could be instrumental in eradicating this deepest stain upon the character of our country, and removing all cause of reproach on account of it, by foreign nations ; if I could only be instrumental in rid- ding of this foul blot that revered State that gave me birth, or that not less beloved State which kindly adopted me as her son, I would not exchange the proud satisfac- tion which I should enjoy, for the honor of all the triumphs ever decreed to the most successful conqueror" ****** " We are reproached with doing mischief by the agi- tating of this question (slavery.) Collateral conse- quences we are not responsible for. It is not this society, which has produced the great moral revolution, which the age exhibits. What would they, who thus reproach us, have done ? If they would repress all ten- dencies towards liberty, and ultimate emancipation, they must do more than put down the benevolent efforts of this society. They must go back to the era of our liberty and independence, and muzzle the cannon which thunders its annual joyous return. They must revive the slave trade, with all its train of atrocities. They must blow out the moral lights around us, and extinguish that greatest torch of all, which America presents to a be- nighted world, pointing the way to their rights, their liberties, and their happiness. And when they have achieved all these purposes, their work will yet be in- complete. They must penetrate the human soul, and HBNRY CLAY. 135 eradicate the light of reason, and the love of liberty. Then, and not till then, when universal darkness and despair prevail, can you perpetuate slavery, and repress all sympathies, and all humane and benevolent efforts among freemen, in behalf of the unhappy portion of our race doomed to bondage." Thus acutely alive to the enormities of slavery of every form, Mr. Clay was not constituted to look with indifference upon British aggression upon our national rights and fame. He witnessed with irrepressible indig- nation the systematic crusade gotten up to extinguish our growing commerce, to resist which infamous pro ceeding occasioned the war of 1812. Great Britain, among other illegalities and cruelties practiced towards us, adopted the execrable custom of impressment, and thus carried seven thousand American freemen into captivity, as appeared from official reports made during a single session of Congress. This barbarous system grew more and more insufferable continually. Scarcely a breeze came across the Atlantic without wafting to our shores news of some fresh enormity. Redress was sought by mild measures, without effect or even respect. Madison, Pinckney, and Munroe, in their correspond- ence with the British government, had remonstrated again and again, but only to embolden the aggressor in his outrageous proceedings. Mr. Clay, and those who sympathized with him, felt that there was no alternative left the United States but to arm in righteous defence, and chastise the insolence of an overbearing foe. But there were some who stood in awe of the maritime "orce of England, and who deemed it impossible that 136 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. our young nation, with feeble munitions of war, and no navy, could compete with an antagonist then haughtily careering over every sea, and blockading all the ports of Europe. These affected to believe that the interests of the country would not be subserved, whether the war eventuated in her, or that of her enemy ; they could see nothing to be gained by it ; to whom Mr. Clay said, " 1 will ask what are we not to lose by peace ? commerce, character, a nation's best treasure and honor ! If pecu- niary considerations alone are to govern, there are suffi- cient motives for the war. Our revenue is reduced by the operation of the belligerent edicts to about six mil- lions of dollars. The year preceding the embargo, it was sixteen. Take away the orders in council, it will again mount up to sixteen millions. By continuing, therefore, in peace if the mongrel situation in which we are deserves that denomination we lose annually, in revenue alone, ten millions of dollars. Gentlemen will say, repeal the law of non-importation. If the United States were capable of that perfidy, the revenue would not be restored to its former state, the orders in council continuing. Without an export trade, which these orders prevent, inevitable ruin will ensue if we import as freely as we did prior to the embargo. A nation that carries on an import trade without an export trade to support it, must in the end be as certainly bank- rupt, as the individual would be who incurred an annual expenditure without an income." Mr. Clay contended that England, in assigning the cause of her aggressions to be the punishment of France, HENRY CLAY. 137 with whom she was at war, was practicing a deceptive part ; that this was her ostensible and not real course. It was her inordinate desire of supremacy on the seas, which could not brook any appearance of rivalry, that prompted her hostilities. She saw in your numberless ships which whitened every sea, in your hundred and twenty thousand gallant tars, the seeds of a naval force, which, in thirty years, ^vould rival her on her own ele- ment. She therefore commenced the odious system of impressment, of which no language can paint my exe- cration ! She DARED to attempt the subversion of the personal freedom of your mariners !" He closed by expressing his decided conviction of the justice of the undertaking, and hoping that unless re- dress was obtained by peaceable means speedily, war would be resorted to before the close of the session. In subsequent speeches, he expressed himself con- vinced that the declaration of war was the most provi- dent measure that could under the then existing circum- stances be adopted, and advocated it with the greatest energy and zeal. He demonstrated its necessity, not only to the Atlantic States, but to the vast west. " If," said he, " there be a point more than any other in the United States, demanding the aid of naval protection, that point is the mouth of the Mississippi. The popu- lation of the whole western country are dependent on this single outlet for their surplus productions. These productions can be transported in no other way. Close the mouth of the Mississippi, and their export trade is annihilated. Abandon all idea of protecting by mari- time force the . mouth of the Mississippi, and we shall 138 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. hold the inestimable right of the navigation of that river by the most precarious tenure. The whole commerce of the Mississippi, a commerce that is destined to be the richest that was ever borne by a single stream, is placed at the mercy of a single ship lying off the Balize ! Can gentlemen, particularly from the western country, con- template such possible, nay, probable events, without desiring to see at least the corrfmencement of such a naval establishment as will effectually protect the Mis- sissippi?" He showed the intimate connection of com- merce with a navy, by saying that "a marine is the natural, the appropriate guardian of foreign commerce. The shepherd and his faithful dog are not more necessary to guard the flocks that browse and gambol on the neigh- boring mountain. Neglect to provide the one, and you must abandon the other. Suppose the expected war with Great Britain is commenced you enter and sub- jugate Canada, and she still refuses to do you justice what other possible mode will remain to operate on the enemy, but upon that element where alone you can come in contact with her? And if you do not prepare to protect there your own commerce and to assail his, will he not sweep from the ocean every vessel bearing your flag, and destroy even the coasting trade ?" To the argument that foreign trade was not worth protect- ing, he asked, " What is this foreign commerce that has suddenly become so inconsiderable ? It has with very trifling aid from other sources, defrayed the expenses of the government ever since the adoption of the present constitution, maintained an expensive and successful war with the Indians, a war with the Barbary powers, a HENRY CLAY. 139 quasi war with France, sustained the charges of sup- pressing two insurrections, and extinguishing upwards of forty-six millions of the public debt. In revenue, it has since the year 1789 yielded one hundred and ninety- one millions of dollars." Alluding to the eminenlWan- ger of our commercial metropolis, he remarked, "Is there a reflecting man in the nation who would not charge Congress with a culpable neglect of its duty, if for the want of such a force a single ship were to bombard one of our cities ? Would not every honorable mem- ber of the committee inflict on himself the bitterest re- proaches, if by failing to make an inconsiderable addition to our gallant little navy, a single British vessel should place New York under contribution ?" Interested partisans, overlooking the great and endur- ing advantages won in the war which Mr. Clay did so much to sustain, reflected on his course in relation there- to. To such, on January 29th, 1816, he replied with patriotic triumph as follows : " I gave a vote for the declaration of war. I exerted all the little influence and talents I could command to make the war. The war was made. It is terminated ; and I declare with per- fect sincerity, if it had been permitted to me to lift the veil of futurity, and to have foreseen the precise series of events which has occurred, my vote would have been unchanged. We had been insulted and outraged, and spoliated upon by nearly all Europe ; by Great Britain, by France, Spain, Denmark, Naples, and, to cap the cli- max, by the little contemptible power of Algiers. We had submitted too long and too much We had be- 140 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. come the scorn of foreign powers, and the derision of our own citizens." In August, 1814, Mr. Clay with other commissioners on the part of America met Lord Gambier, Henry Goul- born* and William Adamos, on the part of the British government, assembled at Ghent to negociate a peace. In executing this task, our countryman showed his ardent nationality of spirit in every proceeding. For instance, he reciprocated an act of kindness of Mr. Goulborne, who had sent him a British periodical con- taining an account of the taking of Washington by the arms of his Cation, by sending him some American papers which he had recently received, describing a splendid victory won on Lake Champlain or Lake Erie, by the navy of his country over that of the British. While he was at London the battle of Waterloo was fought, and he witnessed the public rejoicings on account of its favorable termination to the British. He was one day dining at Lord Castlereagh's house in company with many of the nobility, when the conversation turned on the late victory, and the whereabouts of Napoleon, as it was not known where he had gone. Some intimated that he had sailed for America. " Jf he goes there," said Lord Liverpool to Mr. Clay, " will he not give you much trouble ?" " None whatever," instantly replied Mr. Clay, " we shall be glad to receive such a distinguished, though unfortunate exile, and we shall soon make a good demo- crat of him." After the close of the war by the treaty -of Ghent, Mr. Clay took up with great ardor the cause of South American independence. To him undoubtedly belongs HENRY CLAY. 141 the credit of having first called the attention of Con- gress and the people to this great subject ; and of having contributed an earlier and a greater share, than any other person, to the weight of argument and the power of persuasion, by which the public sentiment on the subject was eventually fixed. It was in one of the first speeches made on this subject, that he said "he would leave the honorable gentleman from Delaware (Mr. Horsey) to bewail the fallen fortunes of the King of Spain, without stopping to inquire whether their loss was occasioned.by treachery or not, or whether it could be traced to any agency of the American government. He confessed that he had little sympathy for princes, but that it was reserved for the people, the great mass of mankind, and did not hesitate to declare that the people of Spain had it most unreservedly and most sincerely." At a subsequent period Mr. Clay was accused of aim- ing to ferment a war between the colonies of South Amer- ica and Spain. To this he replied, that if the latter ever possessed a legal claim to the allegiance of the former, she had forfeited it by withholding that protection requisite to entitle her to it, and that consequently the people of Spanish America were contending for nothing more than their legal and natural rights. "But," said Mr. Clay, " I take a broader, bolder position. I maintain that an oppressed people are authorized, whenever they can, to rise and break their fetters. This was the great principle of the English revolution. It was the great principle of our own. We must therefore pass sentence of condemnation upon the founders of our liberty, say that they were rebels and traitors, and that 142 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. we are at this moment legislating without competent powers, before we can condemn the course of Spanish America." He contended that if we were justified in our attempts at independence, much more was she, who had writhed beneath the scourge of oppression so long, so much longer than we ; that if they were worthy of suc- cess, if they were entitled to succeed from the justness of their cause, then surely we ought to wish it, especially when we consider the barbarous character of the war. He maintained that we were deeply interested, in recog- nizing their independence. Even the^i our commerce with those provinces was considerable, and would greatly increase after they should become permanently settled as free and independent nations. The act would attach them to us, nay, it would bind them to us, by rela- tions as intimate as those of kindred ; they would be- come our powerful allies. Mr. Clay said he took this ground, not because he desired to force our principles where they were not wished, but simply from feelings of sympathy. We knew by experience how sweet it was to receive that, when we were in circumstances that tried men's souls. There could be no danger, nor objec- tion to stretch out towards their people the hand of friendly sympathy, to present to those abused and op- pressed communities an expression of our good will, to make them a tender of those great principles which we have adopted as the basis of our institutions. Theii ignorance and inability had been brought forward, by those opposing the measure, as completely incapacitating them foi self-government. These, he contended, had been greatly magnified, but admitting them to be as un- HENRY CLAY. 143 qualifying as they had been represented to be, the fact ought rather to increase our pity for them, and to urge us to seek the more earnestly, by all reasonable and just means within our reach, their liberation from that detest- able system which chained them to such a servile state. He ridiculed the idea that recognition could be made a just pretext for war. " Recognition," said he, " without aid, is no just cause of war ; with aid, it is not because of the recognition, but because of the aid, as aid with- out recognition is cause of war." Mr. Clay's efforts were not successful at this time ; no minister was de- spatched to South America; the friendly mission was deferred until 1821, when he submitted, on the tenth oi February, a resolution to the house, "declaring that the House of Representatives participated with the people of the United States in the deep interest which they felt for the success of the Spanish provinces of South America, which were struggling to establish their liberty and independence, and that it would give its constitu- tional support to the President of the United States, whenever he might deem it expedient to recognize the sovereignty and independence of those provinces." On the 28th of March, 1822, the vote of recognition which Mr. Clay had so long struggled for, was passed with but one dissenting voice. Thus, after a long strug- gle on the part of this palrioCc statesman, his efforts were crowned with success as complete as they had been persevering. It is said, that during the forensic strife, his speeches were frequently read at the head of the patriot army, and the effect was always to increase their intrepidity and valor. The name of Clay became associ- 144 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. ated with everything dear and valuable in freedom, and was pronounced by both officer and soldier with rever- ence ; and many were the epistolary notices which he received, of the high estimation in which his services were held, by that suffering, but successfully struggling people. The following is a specimen : BOGOTA, 21st November, 1827. "SiR, I cannot omit availing myself of the opportu- nity afforded me by the departure of Colonel Watts, charge d'affaires of the United States, of taking the liberty to address your Excellency. This desire has long been entertained by me, for the purpose of expressing my admiration of your Excellency's brilliant talents and ardent love of liberty. All America, Colombia, and myself, owe your Execellency our purest gratitude, for the incomparable services you have rendered to us, by sustaining our course with a sublime enthusiasm. Ac- cept, therefore, this sincere and cordial testimony, which I hasten to offer your Excellency and to the government of the United States, who has so greatly contributed to the emancipation of your southern brethren. " I have the honor to offer to your Excellency my dis- tinguished consideration. " Your Excellency's obedient servant. BOLIVAR." The ardent nationality of spirit so predominant in Mr. Clay, was strikingly developed in his action on the Missouri question. He reached Washington on the sixteenth of January, 1821, and found Congress in the HENRY CLAY. 145 greatest excitement and confusion. Both political parties were excessively envenomed and belligerent. The services of an adroit and magnanimous peace-maker were requisite, or national disunion threatened to be the inevitable result. The opposition which the peo- ple of Missouri had encountered in their efforts to be admitted as a State had roused their anger; they insert- ed a clause in their constitution which was most ob- noxious to the rest of the Union. It ran as follows : " It shall be the duty of the General Assembly, as soon as may be, to pass such laws as may be necessary to prevent free negroes and mulattoes from coming to or settling in this State, under any pretext whatsoever." On the 10th of February, Mr. Clay reported and sub- mitted the following resolution: " Resolved, That the State of Missouri be admitted into the Union on an equal footing with the original States, in all respects whatever, upon the fundamental condition, that the said State shall never pass any law preventing any description of persons from coming to and settling in the said State, who now are, or may hereafter become, citizens of any of the States of this Union." The compromise was founded on this resolution, and was mainly effected by the temper, sagacity, and inde- fatigable zeal of Mr. Clay. A still more memorable act of pacification, was the Compromise Bill, of February, 1833. The Legislature of South Carolina ratified an ordinance, passed by a State Convention, at Columbia, in November, 1832, declaring the tariff acts unconstitutional, and utterly null and void. 7 148 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. President Jackson promptly issued his proclamation, de nouncing the doctrines of nullification, and declared that the entire military force of the United States, if neces- sary, should be employed to put down all opposition to the General Government. His remonstrances, however, were unheeded. Governor Hayne immediately issued a counter proclamation^ and the greatest national perils became more imminent every hour. A bill to enforce the collection of the revenue, was brought before the Senate, directing coercive measures to be employed, in case of resistance. At this critical juncture, when the political heavens gathered in thickest gloom, Mr. Clay stepped forth to disperse the darkness, and wave the olive branch of peace over the distracted nation. Never, perhaps, were greater talent and skill needed, than in this crisis, and never were they more success- fully employed. Those who heard his closing appeals to the Senate, on the subject, will never forget the effect produced by sentiments like the following : "Statesmen should regulate their conduct, and adapt their measures to the exigencies of the times in which they live. They cannot, indeed, transcend the limits of the constitutional rule ; but with respect to those sys- tems of policy which fall within its scope, they should arrange them according to the interests, the wants, and the prejudices of the people. Two great dangers threaten the public safety. The true patriot will not stop to inquire how they have been brought about, but will fly to the deliverance of his country. The differ- ence between the friends and the foes of the compromise, under consideration, is, that they would, in the enforcing HENRY CLAY. 147 act, send forth alone a flaming sword. We would send out that also, but along with it the olive branch, as a messenger of peace. They cry out, the law ! the law ! the law! Power! power! power! We, too, reverence the law, and bow to the supremacy of its obligation ; but we are in favor of the law executed in mildness, and a power tempered with mercy. They, as we think, would hazard a civil commotion, beginning in South Carolina, and extending, God only knows where. While we would vindicate the Federal Government, we are for peace, if possible, union, and liberty. We want no war, above all, no civil war, no family strife. We want no sacked cities, no desolated fields, no smok- ing ruins, no streams of American blood shed by AmeVi- can arms ! "I have been accused of ambition in presenting this measure. Ambition! inordinate ambition ! If I had thought of myself only, I should have never brought it forward. I know well the perils to which I expose my- self; the risk of alienating faithful and valued friends, with but little prospect of making new ones, if any new ones could compensate for the loss of those whom we have long tried and loved ; and the honest misconcep- tions both of friends and foes. Ambition ! If I had listened to its soft and seducing whispers ; if I had yielded myself to the dictates of a cold, calculating, and prudential policy, I would have stood still and unmoved. I might even have silently gazed on the raging storm, enjoyed its loudest thunders, and left those who are charged with the care of the vessel of State, to conduct it as they could: I have been heretofore often unjustly 148 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. accused of ambition. Low, grovelling souls, who are utterly incapable, of elevating themselves to the higher and nobler duties of pure patriotism beings, who, for ever keeping their o\\n selfish aims in view, decide all public measures by their presumed influence on their aggrandizement judge me by the vena} rule which they prescribe to themselves. I have given to the winds those false accusations, as I consign that which now im- peaches my motives. I have no desire for office, not even the highest. The most exalted is but a prison, in which the incarcerated incumbent daily receives his cold, heartless visitants, marks his weary hours, and is cut oft' from the practical enjoyment of all the blessings of'genuine freedom. I am no candidate for any office in the gift of the people of these States, united or sepa- rated ; I never wish, never expect to be. Pass this bill, tranquillize the country, restore confidence and affection in the Union, and I am willing to go home to Ashland, and renounce public service for ever. I should there find, in its groves, under its shades, on its lawns, amidst rny flocks and herds, in the bosom of my family, sincerity and truth, attachment, and fidelity, and gratitude, which I have not always found in the walks of public life. Yes, I have ambition ; but it is the ambition of being the humble instrument, in the hands of Providence, to reconcile a divided people ; once more to revive concord and harmony in a distracted land the pleasing ambition of contemplating the glorious spectacle of a free, united, prosperous, and fraternal people !" During the famous debate on the Deposites question in the Senate, near the close of April, 1833, Mr. Leigh, HENKV CLAY. 149 of Virginia, paid Mr. Clay a rich and merited compli- ment, for his services in allaying the spirit of Southern nullification. " I cannot but remember," said he, " when all men were trembling under the apprehension of civil war trembling from the conviction, that if such a con- test should arise, let it terminate how it might, it would put our present institutions in jeopardy, and end either in consolidation or disunion; for I am pursuaded that the first drop of blood which shall be shed in a civil strife between the Federal Government and any State, will flow from an irremediable wound, that none may ever hope to see healed. I cannot but remember, that the President, though wielding such a vast power and influ- ence, never contributed the least aid to bring about the compromise that saved us from the evils which all men, I believe, and I, certainly, so much dreaded. The men are not present to whom we are chiefly indebted for that compromise ; and I am glad they are absent, since it enables me to speak of their conduct, as I feel I might not without, from a sense of delicacy. I -.ise my hum- ble voice in gratitude for that service, to ll.-.nry Clay of the Senate, and Robert P. Letcher, of the House of Re- presentatives." Before leaving the consideration of Mr. Clay's ardent nationality of spirit, we will subjoin one more extract, which is at once a good specimen of his style, and an admirable exposition of his own character as a politician. It is from an unpremeditated rejoinder to Mr. Rives, in the Senate, August 19th, 1841, in which he gave his famous definition ofpultic virtue. " I rose not to say one word which should wound the 150 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. feelings of President Tyler. The senator says that, if placed in like circumstances, I would have been the last man to avoid putting a direct veto upon the Bill, had it met my disapprobation ; and he does me the honor to attribute to me high qualities of stern and unbending in- trepidity. I hope, that in all that relates to personal firmness, all that concerns a just appreciation of the in- significance of human life whatever may. be attempted to threaten or alarm a soul not easily swayed by oppo- sition, or awed or intimidated by menace a stout heart and a steady eye, that can survey, unmoved and un- daunted, any mere personal perils that assail this poor, transient, perishing frame, I may, without disparagement, compare with other men. But there is a sort of courage, which, I frankly confess it, I do not possess, a boldness to which I dare not aspire, a valor which I cannot covet. I cannot lay myself down in the way of the welfare and happiness of my country. That I cannot, I have not the courage to do. I cannot interpose the power with which I may be invested, a power conferred not for my personal benefit, nor for my aggrandizement, but for my country's good, to check her onward march to greatness and glory. I have not courage enough, I am too cowardly for that. I would not, I dare not, in the exer- cise of such a trust, lie down, and place my body across the path that leads my country to prosperity and happi- ness. This is a sort of courage widely different from that which a man may display in his private conduct and personal relations. Personal or private courage is totally distinct from that higher and nobler courage which HENRY CLAY. 151 prompts the patriot to offer himself a voluntary sacrifice to his country's good." " Nor did I say, as the senator represents, that the President should have resigned. I intimated no per- sonal wish or desire that he should resign I referred to the fact of a memorable resignation in his public life. And what I did say was, that there were other alterna- tives before him besides Vetoing the Bill ; and that it was worthy of his consideration whether consistency did not require that the example which he had set when he had a constituency of one State, should not be followed whan he had a constituency commensurate with the whole Union. Another alternative was, to suffer the Bill, without his signature, to pass into a law under the pro- visions of the Constitution. And I must confess, I see, in this, no such escaping by the back door, no such jumping out of the window, as the senator talks about. Apprehensions of the imputation of the want of firm- ness sometimes impels us to perform rash and inconside- rate acts. It is the greatest courage to be able to bear the imputation of the want of courage. But pride, vanity, egotism, so unamiable and offensive in private life, are vices which partake of the character of crimes, in the conduct of public affairs. The unfortunate vic- tim of these passions cannot see beyond the little, petty, contemptible circle of his own personal interests. All his thoughts are withdrawn from his country, and con- centrated on his consistency, his firmness, himself. The high, the exalted, the sublime emotions of a patriotism, which, soaring toward heaven, rises far above all mean, low, or selfish things, and is absorbed by one soul trans- 152 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. porting thought of the good and the glory of one's country, are never felt in his impenetrable bosom. That patriotism which, catching its inspirations from the im- mortal God, and leaving at an immeasurable distance below all lesser, grovelling, personal interests and feel- ings, animates and prompts to deeds of self -sacrifice, of valor, of devotion, and of death itself that is public virtue ; that is the noblest, the sublimest of all public virtues !" Two prominent characteristics in Mr. Clay, we have already considered ; it remains, thirdly, to portray his impressive manner of address. In doing this it will be necessary to describe his person, his elocution, and the chief sources of his eloquence. In the first place, we would remark that perhaps the best general description of Mr. Clay's person is found in Uncle Sam's Letters, and is as follows : " There is a tall, light-haired, blue-eyed, individual, sixty years old or more, who occupies a seat in the Senate, at the Capitol. He has not what would be called a handsome face, but one of the liveliest, or, if we may so speak, one of the most looking faces that ever fronted a head. It is because he has a looking organi- zation. You catch not him asleep or moping. He seems to see everybody that comes in or goes out, and besides to have an eye on, and an ear for, whatever honor- able senator may occupy the field of debate. If his own marked political game is on foot, he is then NIMROD, a mighty hunter. He can see just what fissure of in- consistency, nook of sophism or covert of rhetoric, is made a hiding-place. At the right moment, he aims a rifle HENRY C2.AY. 153 pretty sure to hit, if his powder is good ; and his friends say, that he uses the best. Grand fun it is, to stand by, and see this keen sportsman crack off, and especially to hear him wind "the mellow, mellow horn," which his mother gave him a long while ago, to leave our hunting- ground metaphor, for the plain beaten way, this indi- vidual veteran statesman from Kentucky. Now just come and look at his head, or seek his portrait, at least. You will see how his perceptives put themselves forth in front, as if they were reaching after their objects, as it were, for a long pull, and a strong pull, to fetch them into keeping. Then, in speech, with what ease, grace, order, and effect, he can fling forth his gatherings. His mind has been developed by the exciting circumstances of active life, rather than by the speculations of quiet books. Henry Clay is therefore a practical man. He is pre-eminently perceptive. He knows the whom, the what, the where, the when, the which first, and the how many, as well, perhaps, as any public man living. A very long political life has put him to the test. We do not aver that he never made mistakes, or that he is politically and positively right ; we intimate, moreover, nothing to the contrary We would simply convey, that of all the great states- men of our country, he particularly illustrates the facul ties just had under review." From this general statement, let us descend to more particular detail. Mr. Clay is reported to be exactly six feet one inch high ; he is not stout, but the op- posite ; has long arms, and small hands; is always up- right in standing, walking, or talking ; and is particu- 7* 154 LIVING OUATORS IN AMERICA. larly erect when engaged in debate. Seen in front, his countenance is impressive ; his profile is very striking. His visage is spare, mouth large, lips compressed, nose prominent, forehead retreating, hair light and thin, eyes rather small, blue, and, when kindled, sparkling with electric fire. Other traits will be more fully portrayed as we notice Secondly, his elocution. Mr. Clay is less graceful, than earnest, impressive and unrestrained ; free and wild as the elk of the forest, it is said all his gestures were in early manhood. A manifest harmony existed between the suggestions of his mind and the movements of his limbs, and this imparted an indescribable charm to his action. He did not vociferate with weary lungs and sweating brow, at the same time standing with listless hands, and elbows turned to his hips. Whenever he is in earnest, he talks all over, and there is a language in liis limbs which says as clearly as that of the lips, " these were given to clasp the beautiful and cleave the wave." He seerns exhilarated, like one mounted on a high-mettled courser; not that he seeks display, but a little curvetting accords well with his native spirits, and withal he is a little proud of his glorious steed. Its snort, its whinny, its impatient pawing of the earth, the elasticity of all its motions, and the full confidence the excited rider feels in its speed and force, elate him. He knows the steed beneath him will carry him any- where leap any barrier, however formidable will dis- tance any competitor, however fleet. In this orator especially, free will is bi't necessity in play. HENRY CLAY. 155 " The clattering of the golden reins which guide The thunder-footed couriers of the sun." Mr. Clay's voice has prodigious power, compass, and richness ; all its variations are captivating, but some of its base tones thrill through one's whole frame. To those who have never heard the living melody, no verbal description can convey an adequate idea of the diversified effect of those intonations which in one strain of sentiment fall in whispering gentleness, "like the first words of love upon a maiden's lips," and anon, in sterner utterances, " ring with the maddening music of the main." The magician is well . aware of the seduc- tive power of his voice, and employs it with great effect in the moderate, as well as the more impassioned por- tions of his speeches. Such is its fascination, that the most familiar expressions take from it an air of novelty and dignity, and the more excitable in the audience, waiting for an eloquential pause, would say : 11 Thy sweet words drop upon the ear as soft As rose leaves on a well : and I could listen, As though the immortal melody of Heaven Were wrought into one word that word a whisper, That whisper all I want from all I lore." Consummate eloquence is the rarest, as well as the most valuable of gifts, because it is so uncommon to meet with one who has no less oratory in the tones of his voice, in the language of his eyes, and in the gene- ral air of his person, than in the profusion of his wis- dom and the choice of his words. In such rare in- stances, every sentiment will have an intonation 156 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. peculiar to itself, and both gestures and looks will be in exact keeping with what in language is expressed. It is this relation, true or false, that makes all the difference between the agreeable and disagreeable, pleasing and displeasing, among public speakers. Fortunate indeed is he who has received from nature an engaging face and figure, a strong memory, vivid imagination, and sonorous tones of voice capable of being modulated with varied compass, so as to stimulate and excite an audience with the indescribable effects which have often been produced by Mr. Clay. His look and action vividly interpret his thought while he speaks, as Mi- chael Angelo found in the depth of his own mind and grandeur of conception, the means of rendering the immediate effect of will and power intuitive in the crea- tion of Adam, by darting life from the finger of Omni- potence in an effulgent ray ; and as the coalition of light and darkness opened to the entranced eye of Cor- reggio the means of embodying the Mosaic sentence " Let there be light," in that stream of glory which, issuing from the Divine Infant in his Notte, proclaims a God. Natural expression is the luminous .image of actual passion, its spontaneous language and speaking portrait, always composed of simplicity, propriety, and energy, as its three invariable and most intelligent elements. This is a great forte with Mr. Clay ; he can " light at will expression's brightest blaze." Mental vivacity animates the features, attitudes, and gestures, which nature has prompted, and long practice improved. Beep emotions, whose inward energy penetrate and ' ' HENRY CLAY. 157 invest his supple form, render him exceedingly com- manding in action, and forcible in speech. Nothing can be more captivating than the smiles that some- times light up his countenance while speaking, not un- frequently succeeded by frowns as impressive, which outward language is as intimately mixed and strikingly expressed as the latent emotions of his mind. It pre- sents a pleasing series of effects, constituting diversified transitions and perpetual progress, each gleam, when its end is attained, giving place to another, and leaving no trace behind : " Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth ; And ere a man has time to say, behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up." Hazlitt has finely discriminated between nature elevated by genius and nature literally copied by talent, in his parallel between Raphael and Hogarth. The figures of the former, he says, are sustained by ideas ; those of the latter are distorted by mechanical habits and instincts. " It is elevation of thought that gives grandeur and delicacy of expression to passion. The expansion and refinement of the soul are seen in the face, as in a mirror. An enlargement of purpose gives corresponding enlargement of form. The mind, as it were, acts over the whole body, and animates it equally, while petty and local interests seize on particular parts, and distract it by contrary and mean expressions. Now, if mental expression has this superior grandeur and grace, we can account at once for the superiority of 158 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. Raphael. For there is no doubt, that it is more difficult to give a whole continuously and proportionally than to give the parts separate and disjointed, or to diffuse the same subtle but powerful expression over a large mass than to caricature it in a single part or feature. The actions in Raphael are like a branch of a tree swept by the surging blast ; those in Hogarth like straws whirled and twitched about in the gusts and eddies of passion." What the great Italian was among artists, we hold Henry Clay to be among orators. He has a fine per- son, striking features, and, as we have said, a most fas- cinating manner of address ; but these are far from being his only or chief attributes. There is a mind in him, a moral power far more valuable to a statesman than all the vaunted arts of elaborated grace or affected elocution. Nature has given him a strong and clear understanding, which he has vigorously exercised on a great variety of political and moral topics. He has read many valuable authors, and pondered much on their principles. And yet he has never carried the habits of private meditation so far as to render him pro- fessional and didactic in his public life has ever main- tained the freedom and force of an energetic leader, without assuming the part of an astute essayist or tire- some pedant. His speeches are more in conformity with the prevailing spirit and characteristics of the American people than any other extant ; wildly beau- tiful and earnestly grand, yet alternately gay and so- lemnly compressed to an extraordinary degree. When- ever he appears on the rostrum to discuss a great and exciting question, there is such clearness in his thought HENRY CLAY. 159 and witchery in his manner that the entranced listener is inclined to say, " I love that voice Dipping more sofly on the subject ear Than that calm kiss the willow gives the wave < A soft, rich tone, a rainbow of sweet sounds, Just spanning the soothed sense." This leads us, in the third place, to consider some of the chief sources of Mr. Clay's eloquence. These are, we think, native enterprise, an ardent temperament, sagacious patriotism, and indomitable perseverance. We will illustrate these points in the order named. And first, had not Mr. Clay come into the world with a soul thoroughly imbued with the spirit of enterprise, he would have perished in the deep obscurity of his origin, unhonored and unsung. In a touching piece of auto-biography, contained in a speech delivered by him at Lexington, June 9, 1842, on the occasion of his re- tirement from public life, Mr. Clay puts this matter in a strong light. Said he : "In looking back upon ray origin and progress through life, I have great reason ,to be thankful. My father died in 1781, leaving me an infant of too tender years to retain any recollection of his smiles or endear- ments. My surviving parent removed to this State in 1792, leaving me a boy of fifteen years of age, in the office of the High Court of Chancery, in the city of Richmond, without guardian, without pecuniary means of support, to steer my course as I might or could. A neglected education was improved by my own irregular 160 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA exertions, without the benefit of systematic instruction. I studied law principally in the office of a lamented friend, the late Governor Brooke, then Attorney Gene- ral of Virginia, and also under the auspices of the vene- rable and lamented Chancellor Wythe, for whom I had acted as an amanuensis. I obtained a license to practice the profession from the Judges of the Court of Appeals, of Virginia, and established myself in Lexington, in 1797, without patrons, without the favor or countenance of the great or opulent, without the means of paying my weekly board, and in the midst of a bar uncom- monly distinguished by eminent members. I remember how comfortable I thought I should be, if I could make one hundred pounds Virginia money, per year, and with what delight I received the first fifteen shillings fee. My hopes were more than realized. I immediately rushed into a successful and lucrative practice. " In 1803 or 4, when I was absent from the county of Fayette at the Olympian Springs, without my knowledge or previous consent, I was brought forward as a candi- date, and elected to the general assembly of this State. I served in that body several years, and was then trans- ferred to the senate, and afterwards to the House of Re- presentatives of the United States. I will not dwell on the subsequent events of my political life, or enumerate the offices which I have filled. During my public ca- reer, I have had bitter, implacable, reckless enemies. But if I have been the object of misrepresentation and unmerited calumny, no man has been beloved or hon- ored by more devoted, faithful, and enthusiastic friends. I have no reproaches, none, to make towards my coun- HNRY C1AY. 101 try, which has distinguished and elevated me far beyond what I had any right to expect. I forgive my enemies, and hope they may live to obtain the forgiveness of their own hearts." Intimately associated with this native spirit of mag- nanimous enterprise in Mr. Clay, is his ardent tempera- ment. These are qualities which happily unite in him, " Like rays of stars that meet in space, And mingle in a bright embrace.'* The ardor of Mr. Clay's nature was strongly developed, and foretokened his fame, from the time he emigrated to Kentucky, " now nearly forty-five years ago," as he said on a memorable occasion. " I went as an orphan boy who had not yet attained the age of majority ; who had never recognized a father's smile, nor felt his warm ca- resses; poor, penniless, without the favor of the great, with an imperfect and neglected education, hardly suffi- cient for the ordinary business and common pursuits of life ; but scarce had I set my foot upon "her generous soil, when I was embraced with parental fondness, ca- ressed as though I had been a favorite child, and patron- ized with liberal and unbounded munificence. From that period the highest honors of the State have been freely bestowed upon me ; and when, in the darkest hour of calumny and detraction, I seemed to be assailed by all the rest of the world, she interposed her broad and impenetrable shield, repelled the poisoned shafts that were aimed for my destruction, and vindicated my good name from every malignant and unfounded aspersion. I return with indescribable pleasure to linger a while 102 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. longer, and mingle with the warm-hearted and whole- souled people of that State ; and, when the last scene shall for ever close upon me, I hope that my earthly re- mains will be laid under her green sod with those of her gallant and patriotic sons." The Alien and Sedition Laws occasioned one of his earliest and most brilliant popular harangues. It is re- lated that on a certain occasion, the people were assem- bled in large numbers in a grove near Lexington, to listen to a discussion to come off between the advocates and opposers of these laws. The greatest interest had been awakened, extensive preparation made by the com- batants, and with the most inflammatory zeal they en- tered the lists. The historian of the scene goes on to say: " The assemblage was first addressed by Mr. George Nicholas, a gentleman of distinguished ability and com- manding eloquence. His effort is represented as having been one of great vigor, and characterized by that logical and philosophical acumen, for which he was so celebrated. When he ceased, the populace, wrought up to the highest degree of enthusiasm, poured out their rapturous applause. 'Clay,' 'Clay,' was now loudly called from all directions, and as he ascended the stand, it was clearly perceptible by his eagle eye and com- pressed lips, that no ordinary emotions were struggling in his bosom. As the spirit of the tempest finds the ocean when he descends in his mightiest energy, so he found the boisterous mass swelling to and fro like the surges of the deep. But he was at home, doing his legiti- mate work, pouring the oil of eloquence over a turbulent HENRY CLAT. 163 sea of passion, until its tumultuous heavings subsided and left one quiet, calm, and unruffled surface. The subject in his hands, appeared in a new light, and he soon succeeded in securing for it that attention which is accompanied with feelings too deep for utterance ; like those experienced by one standing on the edge of a cra- ter, gazing down into its fiery abyss. His predecessor had poured a flood of sunshine over the multitude, which caused those heartfelt, spontaneous out-gushings of joyful emotion, which are its usual concomitants. But his office was that of the lightning's flash and thun- der peal, hushing, awing, and subduing. When he closed there were no clamorous expressions, no deafen- ing shouts of applause, but something far more signifi- cant, he read in the quivering lips, indignant looks, and frowning brows around him ; and heard, in the deep low growl that came up, a much more flattering tribute to his talents. He was followed by Mr. William Mur- ray, an orator of great popularity, and well qualified to exhibit acceptably the merits of those laws, if indeed they possessed any. His efforts, however, were futile. The conviction of their pernicious tendency had been planted too deep in the minds of the people by Mr. Clay, to permit them to listen to their merits, or to al- low them to believe that they had any. He would not have been suffered to proceed had not the previous speakers urgently solicited permission. Another attempt was made to reply, but the people could be restrained no longer, and made a furious rush towards the place occupied by the speaker, who was compelled to make a prpp.i'~ : *-te retreat to escape personal violence. They 164 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. now seized Nicholas and Clay, bore them on their shoulders to a carriage, and amid the most enthusiastic cheering, drew them through the streets of Lexington. A proud day was this for Mr. Clay ; a day in which he earned a far more glorious title than any that royal hands could confer upon him, that of the ' great com- moner/ It \vas the first of the bright days of the years of his fame the sure precursor of that unfading chaplet which time was destined to bind about his brow." While yet young, Mr. Clay's eloquence partook of the warmth of his blood ; his speech was the fire of passion, tinged by the imagination of the South. When he en- tered the State Legislature, he immediately became a notable star. The fixed gaze of antagonists, excited crowds in the galleries, and earnest attention every- where, attested the advent of one of those grand actors in the political drama of the world, destined powerfully to agitate all parties, be applauded to the echo by mil- lions, and at the same time, the penalty of all true great- ness, be the object of most malignant hate. This is the result of extraordinary native force, the first look or syllable of which in a moment elevates its possessor im- mensely above all common men. The mode in which this truth was exemplified by Mr. Clay while in the Legislature of Kentucky, is forcibly described by one intimately acquainted with him. ' He appears to have been the pervading spirit of the whole body. He never came to the debates without the knowledge necessary to the perfect elucidation of his subject, and he always had the power of making his knowledge so practical, and lighting it so brightly up with the fire of eloquence, and HENRY CLAY. 165 the living soul of intellect, that without resorting to the arts of insidiousness, he could generally control the movements of the Legislature at will. His was not an undue influence ; it was the simple ascendancy of mind over mind. The bills which originated with him, in- stead of being characterized by the eccentricities and ambitious innovations which are too often visible in the course of young men of genius suddenly elevated to power and influence, were remarkable only for their plain common sense, and their tendency to advance the substantial interests of the State. Though he carried his plans into effect by the aid of the magical incanta- tions of the orator, he always conceived them with the coolness and discretion of a philosopher. No subject was so great as to baffle his powers, none so minute as to elude them. He could handle the telescope and the microscope with equal skill. In him the haughty dema- gogues of the Legislature found an antagonist who never failed to foil them in their bold projects, and the intriguers of lower degree were baffled with equal cer- tainty whenever they attempted to get any petty mea- sure through the house for their own personal gratifica- tion or that of their friends. The people, therefore, justly regarded him as emphatically their own." In some of the debates he conducted in those days, he must have been very effective. A gentleman who was present, describes his speech, as having been a perfect model. " Every muscle of the orator's face was at work; his whole body seemed agitated, as if each part was instinct with a separate life ; and his small white hand, with its blue veins apparently distended almost to 166 MVING OKATOKS IV AMERICA. bursting, moved gracefully, but with all the energy of rapid and vehement gesture. The appearance of the speaker seemed that of a pure intellect, wrought Up to its mightiest energies, and brightly glowing through the thin and transparent veil of flesh that enrobed it. His control over his auditory was most absolute and astonish- ing now bathing them in tears, and now convulsing them with laughter, causing them to alternate between hope and fear, love and hate, at his bidding. When, he concluded, scarcely a vestige of opposition remained, and the amended resolution was adopted, almost by ac- clamation." This talismanic power, so manifest in the eloquence of Mr. Clay, is not to be accredited to any one great faculty, but to the skillful use of many. In him no " life- less heap of embryo knowledge rests," but instead thereof, there is a great fund of practical wisdom, satu- rated with acute emotion, by which in the most power- ful manner, he is ever ready " passion to paint, and sentiment unfold." He neither indulges in long strains of vapid declamation, nor wearies with dry and insuffera- ble details, but sagaciously mingles the two, knowing "that vice alike resides in each extreme." He thus most admirably conforms to nature, and in the progress of an extended demonstration banishes all tedium, by alternately painting " her midnight shadow, her meri- dian glow." When we .ook out on the mighty landscape, we see that rich, ample, and flowing robe which nature should wear on her throned eminence, hill united to hill, with sweeping train of forest, with prodigality of shade, aa HENRY CLAY- 167 she stands revealed in primitive magnificence, and not curtailed of her fair proportions, pinched and squeezed into artificial shapes by the contracted and prim notions of man. And so the spirit of true eloquence, adapting itself to different occasions and diversified styles, sub- dues by simplicity, commands by dignity, persuades by propriety, assuages by repose, charms by contrast, en- livens by emotion, and renovates by truth. Reason is the potent leader, and all subordinates are imbued with the light and force that emanate from this centre, en- rapturing all with a cheerful gleam, and sometimes startling with a fearful flash. Nothing is beautiful and effective in popular speech that is not allied to light and shadow in the physical world, and is united to color and form. " 'Tis still one principle through all extends, And leads through different ways to different ends. Whate'er its essence, or whate'er its name, Whate'er its modes, 'tis still in all the same : 'Tis just congruityof parts combined, To please the sense and satisfy the mind." Mr. Clay's eloquence, like the firm trunk of a gnarled oak, adorned and half concealed by honeysuckles and wild roses, reverses the image of lole dressed in the Lion's skin it is the club of Hercules adorned by her with wreaths of flowers. His style is of a new order, conceived and executed in a very bold and difficult man- ner, the aggregated beauty and magnificence of Gre- cian symmetry, Gothic picturesqueness, and the irregu- lar firmness of a feudal castle. Some of his speeches 168 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. suggest the idea of easy and rapid motion, like Milton's battle of the angels : "Light as the lightning glimpse they ran, they flew. From their foundations loos'ning to and fro, They pluck'd the seated hills with all their load, flocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops, Uplifting, bore them in their hands." Others impress with the grandeur of massiveness, re- sistance to motion, if not absolute immobility, as is fine- ly marked in the same book : "Under his burning wheels The steadfast empyrean shook throughout, All but the throne itself of God." Sagacious patriotism was the third element which we mentioned as a prolific source of Mr. Clay's eloquence. From his first entrance upon political life, he seems strongly and habitually to have felt the power of reason upon the masses, and always to have treated the popular judgment with profound respect. Hence he has been frank and fearless in avowing his principles on all occa- sions, to all men. All his faculties were early trained for popular discussion: even his enthusiasm was ren- dered skillful and reflective in dealing out arguments and appeals indiscriminately to those who came in his way. He is said to have been the first man who went through a stumping campaign with unwavering dignity. Mr. Clay has ever been true to his own conceptions ; and such a speaker, if he is not always -right, is certair to be always strong. Of all Americans, he is the orator HENRY CLAY. 169 of political actualities; never dreamy or metaphysical; seldom embodying the largest or the highest philosophical Jogmas, but applying the simplest principles to the most eomprehensive concerns of his countrymen in their slashing interests, and continual conflicts, and in these patriotic efforts working out, with a power rarely sur- passed, the objects which he aimed to accomplish. Con- template him, for instance, when he braved the arro- gance of England, in the beginning, progress and end " of the war of 1812. His chivalrous bearing, patriotic indignation, and diplomatic skill, remind one of Michael, chief of the heavenly warriors, sent to banish the guilty pair from Paradise. " Not in his shape celestial, but as man Clad to meet man : over his lucid arms While military vest of purple flow'd ; His starry helm unbuckled show'd him prime In manhood, where youth ended ; by his side, As in a glist'ning zodiac, hung the sword, Satan's dire dread, and in his hand the spear." Moreover, Mr. Clay never underrates the connection between words and deeds, nor forgets the power which speech ever exercises on the common rnind, and that most extensively in times of great excitement and na- tional convulsion. As he had introduced into congres- sional affairs an element of high moral enthusiasm, springing from his own ardent and magnanimous spirit, so was he in turn acted upon by the kindled passions of the people at large as well as by his dignified associates, and in a few years attained the dizzy height whereon he was recognized by all the world as the sagacious patriot who, 170 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. in a pre-eminent degree, impersonated the cause of America. Reliance on exalted principles, and resomte action guided by them, had conferred on him a glory and a name, " known, sun like, in all nations." This well-earned reputation he not only preserved but en- hanced when, to allay the consternation kindled by South Carolina, with a bold and masterly hand he sketched the outlines of an honorable compromise, and colored the design with the most soothing hues of loftiest patriotism. But the hour when Mr. Clay seems most to have felt that the eyes of the world were upon him, when he most unfolded the native majesty of his character, and stood serenely on the sublimest height, was the memorable scene when he took leave of the Senate, March 31, 1842. Art and eloquence have made that event historical and attractive for ever. The closing paragraphs of Mr. Clay's address were as follows : " That my nature is warm, my temper ardent, my dis- position, especially in relation to the public service, en- thusiastic, I am ready to own ; and those who suppose that I have been assuming the dictatorship, have only mistaken for arrogance or assumption that ardor and devotion which are natural to my constitution, and which I may have displayed with too little regard to cold, cal- culating, and cautious prudence, in sustaining and zeal- ously supporting important national measures of policy which I have presented and espoused. " In the course of a long and arduous public service, especially during the last eleven years in which I have neld a seat in the Senate, from the same aidor and en- thusiasm of character, I have no doubt, in the heat of HENRY CLAY. 171 debate, and in an honest endeavor to maintain mv opinions against adverse opinions alike honestly entei tained, as to the best course to be adopted for the pub lie welfare, I may have often inadvertently and unintei? tionally, in moments of excited debate, made use of Ian guage that has been offensive, and susceptible of injuri ous interpretation toward my brother Senators. L there be any here who retain wounded feelings of injury or dissatisfaction produced on such occasions, I beg to assure them that I now offer the most ample apology for any departure on my part from the established rules ot parliamentary decorum and courtesy. On the other hand, I assure the Senators, one and all, without excep- tion and without reserve, that I retire from this chamber without carrying with me a single feeling of resentment or dissatisfaction to the Senate or any one of its mem- bers. " I go from this place under the hope that we shall mutually consign to perpetual oblivion whatever personal collisions may at any time unfortunately have occurred between us ; and that our recollections shall dwell in future only on those conflicts of mind with mind, those intellectual struggles, those noble exhibitions of the powers of logic, argument, and eloquence, honorable to the Senate and to the nation, in which each has sought and contended for what he deemed the best mode of ac- complishing one common object, the interests and happi- ness of our beloved country. To these thrilling and delightful scenes it will be my pleasure and my pride to ook back in my retirement with unmeasured satisfaction " May the most precious blessings of Heaven rest 172 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. upon the whole Senate, and each member of it, and may the labors of every one redound to the benefit of the nation and the advancement of his own fame and re- nown. And when you shall retire to the bosom of your constituents, may you receive that most cheering and gratifying of all human rewards their cordial greeting of, 'Well done, good and faithful servant.' " And now, Mr. President, and Senators, 1 bid you all a long, a lasting, and a friendly farewell." In delineating the sources of Mr. Clay's eloquence, we have spoken of his enterprising spirit, his ardent temperament, and sagacious patriotism. In conclusion, let us glance at the fourth, and " a fundamental quality, his indomitable perseverance. Confidence or courage is conscious ability the sense of power which it is often difficult to attain, but which is a quality indispensable to eminent success. A well known anecdote commemorates the timidity natural to genius in its first efforts, and under which Mr. Clay was embarrassed in the commencement of his public career. In a debating society of which he for sometime had been an observant but silent member, a question had been dis- cussed at considerable length and apparently with much ability, on which the customary vote was about to be taken, when he observed in an under tone to a person seated by him, " the subject does not seem to be ex- hausted." The individual addressed, exclaimed, "do not put the question yet, Mr. Clay will speak." The chairman by a smile and nod of the head signified his willingness to allow the discussion to be continued by him, who thereupon arose under every appearance of HENRY CLAY. 173 trepidation and embarrassment. The first words that fell from his lips were, " Gentlemen of the jury." His embarrassment now was extreme; blushing, hesitat- ing, and stammering, he repeated the words, "Gen- tlemen of the jury." The audience evinced gen- uine politeness and good breeding, by seeming not to notice his peculiarly unpleasant and trying con- dition. Suddenly regaining his self-possession, he made a speech of such force and eloquence, as to carry conviction and astonishment at once to the hearts of his hearers. Subsequently he took a promi- nent part in the debates of the society, and became one of its most efficient members. An adept is not afraid of undertaking what he knows he can do better than any one else, but it requires no little practice to acquire this habitual self-possession. Even the most experienced veterans are often discon- certed, when out of their own sphere, they are sum- moned to the most familiar and easy tasks. Garrick was once subpoenaed on a friend's trial ; when he appear- ed before the court, though he had for thirty years been in the habit of speaking with the greatest self-reliance in the presence of thousands, yet the instant he appeared in an unusual situation, he became so perplexed and confused, that he was actually sent from the witness' box by the judge, as a man from whom no evidence could be gotten. Charles Fox felt no diffidence in ad- dressing the House of Commons, but was reserved and silent in company, having no confidence in his own col- loquial "powers, or talent for writing. As a man is strong, so is he bold ; but his confident strength is at 174 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. ease only in a walk which impulse or necessity has ren- dered most familiar. In the case of young Clay, as with Fox, the torrent of eloquence rushed upon him from his knowledge of the subject and his interest in it, as soon as he was once fairly on his feet in spontaneous speech, and he went on to the amazement of his audi- ence, unchecked and unbidden, without once thinking of himself, or his initiatory blunder. Subsequent prac- tice, severe and unremitting, fortified Mr. Clay with self-possession, which no finite power could disturb. He became foremost among " The men that glorious law who taught, Unshrinking liberty of thought, And roused the nations with the truth sublime.'" The persevering efforts made by Mr. Clay to preserve and transmit to future generations the invaluable insti- tutions we enjoy, were finely indicated by him on the 15th of August, 1824, when, as Speaker of the House of Representatives, he received General Lafayette, with an apposite and beautiful address, of which the following is an extract : " The vain wish has been sometimes indulged, that Providence would allow the patriot, after death, to return to- his country, and to contemplate the intermediate change that had taken place, to view the forests felled, the cities built, the mountains levelled, the canals cut, the highways constructed, the progress of the arts, the advancement of learning, and the increase of population. General, your present visit to the United States, is a realization of the consoling object of that wish. You are HENRY CLAY. 175 in the midst of posterity. Every where you must have been struck with the great changes, physical and moral, which have occurred since you left us. Even this city, bearing a venerated name, alike endeared to you and to us, has since emerged from the forest which then cov- ered its site. In one respect you find us unaltered, and that is, in the sentiment of continued devotion to liberty, and of ardent affection and profound gratitude to your departed friend, the father of his country, and to you, and to your illustrious associates in the field and the cabinet, for the multiplied blessings which surround us, and for the very privilege of addressing you, which I now exercise. This sentiment, now fondly cherished by more than ten millions of people, will be transmitted with una- bated vigor, down the tide of time, through the countless millions who are destined to inhabit this continent, to the latest posterity." That Mr. Clay designs to persevere to the last mo- ment of existence on earth in his patriotic course, is evi- dent from his character, and the declaration he made at a complimentary dinner, given him when about to re- turn home finally from Washington. In a speech on that occasion, he alluded to his public career, and the duties of citizenship, in the following beautiful language : " Whether I shall ever hereafter take any part in the public councils or not, depends upon circumstances be- yond my control. Holding the principle that a citizen, as long as a single pulsation remains, is under an obliga- tion to exert his utmost energies in the service of his country, if necessary, whether in a public or private sta- tion, my friends here and everywhere may res' assured, 170 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. that, in either condition, I shall stand erect, with a spirit unconquered, while life endures, ready to second their exertions in the cause of liberty, the union and the na- tional prosperity." In summing up what we have to say on the charac- ter and eloquence of Mr. Clay, we remark that he pos- sesses the richest facility of fluent and sonorous speech, an imposing elocution, a deep and melodious voice, a fine, commanding figure, perfect familiarity with parlia- mentary forms, and an adroit potency in debate which can rarely or never be either disconcerted or overcome. His sensibility is acute, and this is supported by equal comprehension, elevation of mind and dignity of action ; his sentiments are draped with propriety and enforced with reason. His style is levelled to his subject, and he preserves it both equally remote from grovelling inanity and transcendental bombast. Possessed naturally of an impetuous temperament and glowing imagination, he early disciplined himself into oratorical habits admirably suited to a mind of keen social perception, and not less adapted to the rapturous expression of exquisite emotion. In his eloquence, wit emerges from and blends with wisdom, as is symbolized by the natural parks of oak which abound on his estate ; the old foliage forms a dark background, on which the new appears, relieved and detached in all its freshness and brilliancy it is spring engrafted on summer. His nature is genial, full of the acutest sensibility to emotion, and this through all his life has been combined with a profusion of creative political genius in a great variety of public manifestations. This is a power not imbibed IIENRY CIeech, which for lofty patriotism, cogent reasoning, and soul-stirring eloquence, has seldom been equalled. It met unbounded and universal applause. He was com- pared to " one of the old sages of the old Congress, with the graces of youth," and the " young Carolinian" was hailed as "one of the master spirits, who stamp their name upon the age in which they live." The speech referred to above has been preserved, ana it is worthy of observation how strongly the logical peculiarities of the orator appear therein, at a time, too, when there was every temptation to rhetorical excess. For example, take the passage wherein he replies to Mr- Randolph's statement of the financial impracticability of the war : " Before I proceed to answer the gentleman particu- larly, let me call the attention of the house to one cir- cumstance ; that is, that almost the whole of his argu- ments consisted of an enumeration of evils always incident to war, however just and necessary ; and that, if they have any force, it is calculated to produce un- qualified submission to every species of insult and injury. such peace as the wolf gives to the lamb the kite to the dove ! Such peace as Russia gives to Poland, or death to its victim ! A peace, by extinguishing the political existence of the State, by awing her into an .abandon- ment of the exercise of every power which constitutes her a sovereign community. It is to South Carolina a question of self-preservation ; and I proclaim it, that, should this bill pass, and an attempt be made to enforce it, it will be resisted, at every hazard even that of death itself. Death is not the greatest calamity ; there 216 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. are others still more terrible to the free and brave, and among them may be placed the loss of liberty and honor. There are thousands of her brave sons who, if need be, are prepared cheerfully to lay down their lives in de- fence of the State, and the great principles of constitu- tional liberty for which she is contending. God forbid that this should become necessary! It never can be, unless this government is resolved to bring the question to extremity, when her gallant sons will stand prepared to perform the last duty to die nobly." The third remarkable era in Mr. Calhoun's political career began with the agitation of the sub-treasury question, in 1837. The general suspension of the banks occasioned the call of an extra session of Congress, at the opening of which Mr. Van Buren presented a mes- sage which not a little confounded both parties in both wings of the Capitol. On learning the course which the President intended to pursue, Mr. Calhoim at once re- solved to sustain him. In defence of the leading finan- cial bill, reported to meet the exigencies of the country, he made three speeches, which are justly ranked among the most distinguished of his life. We quote three short extracts, which present an agreeable variety, each one containing sentiments worthy of the gravest considera- tion. In the first, the orator alludes to the influence of banking on the intellect : " But its most fatal effects originate in its bearing on the moral and intellectual development of the community. The great principle of demand and supply governs the moral and intellectual world no less than the business and commercial. If a community be so organized as to JOHN C. CALHOUN. 217 cause a demand for high mental attainments, they are sure to be developed. If its honors and rewards are allotted to pursuits that require their development ; by creating a demand for intelligence, knowledge, wisdom, justice, firmness, courage, patriotism, and the like, they are sure to be produced. But, if allotted to pursuits that require inferior qualities, the higher are sure to decay and perish. I object to the banking system, be- cause it allots the honors and rewards of the commu- nity, in a very undue proportion, to a pursuit the least of all others favorable to the development of the higher mental qualities, intellectual or moral, to the decay of the learned professions, and the more noble pursuits of science, literature, philosophy, and statesmanship, and the great and more useful pursuits of business and in- dustry. With the vast increase of its profits and influ- ence, it is gradually concentrating in itself most of the prizes of life wealth, honor, and influence to the great disparagement and degradation of all the liberal and useful and generous pursuits of society. The rising generation cannot but feel its deadening influence. The youths that crowd our colleges, and behold the road to honor and distinction terminating in a banking- house, will feel the spirit of emulation decay within them, and will no longer be pressed forward by generous ardor to mount up the rugged steep of science, as the road to honor and distinction* when, perhaps the highest point they could attain in what was once the most honorable and influential of all the learned professions, would be the place of attorney to a bank." 10 218 LIVING ORATORS IN- AMERICA. The second quotation relates to the question, Is the deposite scheme constitutional? "I have not yet exhausted my constitutional objec- tions. I rise to higher and to broader, applying directly to the very essence of this substitute. I deny your right to make a general deposite of the public revenue in a bank. More than half of the errors of life may be traced to fallacies originating in an improper use of words; and among not the least mischievous is the ap- plication of this word to bank transactions, in a sense wholly different from its original meaning. Originally it meant a thing placed in trust, or pledged to be safely and sacredly kept till returned to the depositor, without being used by the depository, while in his possession. All this is changed when applied to a deposite in bank. Instead of returning the identical thing, the bank is un- derstood to be bound to return only an equal value ; and instead of not having the use, it is understood to have the right to loan it out on interest, or to dispose of it as it pleases, with the .single condition, than an equal amount be returned, when demanded, which experience has taught is not always done. To place, then, the pub- lic money in deposite, in bank, without restriction, is to give the free use of it, and to allow them to make as much as they can out of it, between the time of depo- -site and disbursement. Have we such a right ? The money belongs to the people collected from them for specific purposes in which they have a general interest, and for that only ; and what possible right can we have to give such use of it to certain selected corpo- rations ? I ask for the provision of the Constitution JOHN C. CALHOUN. 219 that authorizes it. I ask, if we could grant the use, for similar purposes, to private associations or individuals ? Or if not to them, to individual officers of the Govern- ment i for instance, to the four principal receivers under this bill, should it pass ? And if this cannot be done, that the distinction be pointed out." In what follows, Mr. Calhoun explains the meaning of sub-treasury : " I regard this measure, which has been so much de nounced, as very little more than an attempt to carry out the provisions of the joint resolution of 1816, and the deposite act of 1836. The former provides that no notes but those of specie paying banks shall be received in the dues of the Government ; and the latter, that such banks only shall be the depositories of the public revenues and fiscal agents of the Government ; but it is omitted to make provisions for the contingency of a gen- eral suspension of specie payments, such as is the present. It followed, accordingly, on the suspension in May last, which totally separated the Government and the banks, that the revenues were thrown into the hands of the Executive, where they have since remained under its exclusive control, without any legal provision for their safe-keeping. The object of this bill is to supply this omission ; to take the public money out of the hands of the Executive, and place it under the custody of the laws, and to prevent the renewal of a connection which . has proved so unfortunate to both the Government and the banks. But it is this measure, originating in an exi- gency caused by our own acts, and that seeks to make the most of a change affected by the operation of law, 220 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. instead of attempting to innovate, or to make another experiment, as has been erroneously represented, which has been denounced under the name of the Sub-Trea- sury with such unexampled bitterness." Mr. Walsh, writing from Paris, remarked that Mr. Calhoun's speech on the Ashburton treaty was regarded by some of the best French critics, as one of the most classical and cogent arguments of modern times. The same may be said of his Oregon speech, and other great efforts of still more recent date. He is to-day full of vivacious intellect, force of logic, and fervor of patriot- 'sm, as in 1814 when he battled undismayed against Great Britain. The following extract vividly portrays his own indomitable character, and with it we must close our list of examples : " This country is left alone to support the rights of neutrals. Perilous is the condition, and arduous the task. We are not intimidated. We stand op- posed to 'British usurpation, and by our spirit and efforts, have done all in our power to save the last vestiges of neutral rights. Yes, our embargoes, non- intercourse, non-importation, and finally, war, are all manly exertions to preserve the rights of this and other nations from the deadly grasp of British maritime policy. But (say our opponents) these efforts are lost and our condition hopeless. If so, it only remains for us to assume the garb of our condition. We must sub- mit, humbly submit, crave pardon, and hug our chains. It is not wise to provoke where we cannot resist. But first let us be well assured of the hopelessness of our state before we sink into submission. On whjt do our JOHN C. CALHOUN. 221 opponents rest their despondent and slavish belief? On the recent events in Europe ? 1 admit they are great, tmd well calculated to impose on the imagination. Our enemy never presented a more imposing exterior. His fortune is at the flood. But I am admonished by uni- versal experience, that such prosperity is the most pre- carious of human conditions. From the flood, the tide dates its ebb. From the meridian the son commences his decline. Depend upon it, there is more of sound philosophy than of fiction in the fickleness which poets attribute to fortune. Prosperity has its weak- ness,, adversity its strength. In many respects our enemy has lost by those very changes which seem so very much in his favor. He can no more Claim to be struggling for existence; no more to be fighting the battles of the world in defence of the liberties of man- kind. The magic cry of 'French influence' is lost. In this very hall we are not strangers to that sound. Here, even here, the cry of ' French influence,' that baseless fiction, that phantom of faction now banished, often re- sounded. I rejoice that the spell is broken by which it was attempted to bind the spirit of this youthful nation. The minority can no longer act under cover, but must come out and defend their opposition on its own intrin- sic merits. Our example can scarcely fail to produce its effects on other nations interested in the maintenance of maritime rights. But if, unfortunately, we should be left alone to maintain the contest, and if, which may God forbid, necessity should compel us to yield for the present, yet our generous efforts will not have been lost. A mode of thinking and a tone of sentiment have gone 222 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. abroad which must stimulate to future and more success- ful struggles. What could not be affected with eight millions of people will be done with twenty. The greai cause will never be yielded ; no, never, never ! Sir, 1 hear the future audibly announced in the past in the splendid victories over the Guerriere, Java, and Mace- donian. We, and all nations, by these victories, are taught a lesson never to be forgotten. Opinion is power. The charm of British naval invincibility is gone." The foregoing biographical sketch, followed by copi- ous and diversified specimens of his premeditated as well as extemporaneous compositions, will have prepared the way for a more specific examination into the char- acter of Mr. Calhoun's eloquence. Clearness, direct- ness, and energy, we consider its three most marked characteristics. In the first place, note the remarkable clearness of Mr. Calhoun's mind. We have already traced the cir- cumstances attending the commencement of that noble career in which he has signalized himself as the most philosophical orator in America. By nature and pro- tracted culture he is a consummate metaphysician. By this we do riot mean that he is accustomed to reason himself into frigid reveries and Platonic dreams concern- ing some ideal Atlantis or impossible- Utopia. Political and psychological speculations with him are not hard, dry dogmas, but living realities actualized and verified by the profound earnestness of the speaker. His argument is not the "thwarted growth of starveling labor and dry sterility ;" but with spontaneous force, and unaffected simplicity, he reveals the inward gran- JOHN C. CALHOUN. 223 deur of a vivid and energetic mind. It is not inap- propriate to apply to his speeches what Hazlitt has said of the works left us- by the greatest master of graphic aK. "Not to speak it profanely^ they are a sort of reve- lation of the subjects of which they treat ; there is an ease and freedom of manner about them which brings preternatural characters and situations home to us with the familiarity of common every-day occurrences; but while the figures fill, raise and satisfy the mind, they seem to have cost the painter nothing. They are mere intellectual, or rather visible abstractions of truth and nature. Everywhere else we see the means ; here we arrive at the end apparently without any means. There is a spirit at work in the divine creation before us." Mr. Calhoun flaunts in no gaudy rhetorical robes of scarlet and gold, but comes into the forum clothed in the simplest garb, with firm hands grasping the reins of fancy, and intent only on giving a reason for the faith that is in him. The embellishment he sparingly employs never obscures or encumbers that manly strength and luminous energy, which constitute the prominent fea- tures of his style. His language is exceedingly choice and most fit to be used by all who think while speaking. In characterizing Mr. Calhoun as the metaphysician among American orators, we design to say that he is full of clear-spirited and substantial significance, and not that his intellect is "woven of pure thought and the airy films of the imagination Arachne's web not finer !" In him that mental acutewess which is skillful in taking up the points of solid atoms, coalesces with a subtlety equally sensitive- in feeling the delicate atmosphere of 224 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. truth. There are many pseudo philosophers who are adroit only in "defining night by darkness, tteath by dust," the type of whose debating power could be found in nothing but " what the shadow of the wind might be." Do the best ypu can to trace their flight or comprehend their meaning, and after all you feel that the attempt is as fruitless as if you should " hunt half a day for a for- gotten dream." Not so with Mr. Calhoun. His is incontestably superior to most of his contemporaries in profound and valuable philosophical accomplishments. Evidently he has great fondness for speculations the most abstract, the fruits of which he can with uncommon facility render directly applicable to common pursuits ; he loves to soar into realms not often explored by metaphysical politicians, but at the same time is expert in the dis- charge of duties the most trite. While he has an eye to perceive, and a hand to grasp, shadowy abstractions, "pure in the last recesses of the mind," he is an adept in all sorts of practical affairs, one whom the most literal proser can hardly excel. His piercing intellect is often illuminated by the brightest imagination, but this latter faculty ever contents itself with the office of minister- ing only to reason. From this relation of the two grand powers of his mind, it has resulted, that his elo- quence", illustrated by axioms more than adorned by imagery, holds the strongest supremacy over those who are best qualified to reflect. The thinking power, promi- nent in his speeches, together with the earnest spirit per- vading them, form their distinctive characteristics, and stamp their superior worth. Their author seems to JOHN C. CALHOUN. have learned from Albericus, that "to the knowledge of history, must be added that part of philosophy which treats of morals and politics ; for this is the soul of history, which explains the causes of the actions and sayings of men, and of the events which befall them." At any rate, more than any other politician of the day, he has learned to explore, " The bearings of men's duties and desires ; To note the nature and the laws of mind ; To balance good with evil ; and compare The nature and necessity of each." In the second place, look at the directness so charac- teristic of Mr. Calhoun's style. We have before said that he is highly philosophical, but not subject to meta- physical paroxysms. Habitually dealing in very precise discrimination, no man more than he, is free from schol- astic barbarism. The remark made by Dugald Stewart on Barrow is not less true of Calhoun. " As a writer, he is equally distinguished by the redundancy of his matter, and by the pregnant brevity of his expression; but what more peculiarly characterizes his manner, is a certain air of powerful and of conscious facility in the execution of whatever he undertakes." fn this respect our American metaphysician differs widely from. those learned Thebans who employ much science to inform the world, " that ships have anchors, and that seas are green." Mr. Calhoun is one of those men whom Providence sends upon earth at remote intervals, to do the chief thinking of their age, to sift the particles of truth from the heap of rubbish under which they have long been 10* 226 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. buried, fuse them into practical shape, and give them universal currency. Sparing of words, but teeming with ideas, they coin great principles in the precious mintage of their mind, and hurl them into profuse and popular circulation. Their thought and execution are as intimately allied and effective, as the etherial flash \vhichprecedesthethunder. The words of such men contain the life or death of many generations ; and they were born to act in crises that powerfully affect the en- tire future of the human race. They seem to contain the master thought of all, to mould and to express it. If they are truly patriotic, their service will be of inesti- mable value, for they will say, with William Tell, as he drew the arrow designed to pierce the fatal apple from the head of his boy : "Perish my name and my memory, provided my country may be free !" Feeling from his youth that the fundamental princi- ples of moral and political philosophy are realities of the greatest importance, he never has- fallen dnto the indolent habit pf declaiming about them, as if they were nonentities, incapable of being either seen or under- stood. These matters he has examined critically and analytically for metaphysical purposes, but he has drawn the scalpel through living subjects rather than dead. The beauty, health, freshness, and animation of the human frame, have departed ere it is submitted to the knife of the anatomist, and it is in something of the same condition that the human mind is considered by most philosophers. But the case is different with Mr. Calhoun. He has ever studied mankind in their vital energies and natural promptings, and has thus learned JOftN C. CALHOUN. 227 skillfully to touch the springs of their action and control its use. Compelled by necessity and disposition to speak in terms intelligible and agreeable to hearers of every grade, he has happily learned both to adapt the object of his inquiries, and his mode of reasoning, to the general understanding and sentiments of his coun- trymen. As Erasmus said of Sir Thomas More, " His eloquent tongue so well seconds his fertile invention, that no one speaks better when suddenly called forth. His attention never languishes, his mind is always before his words ; his memory has all its stock so turned into ready money, that without hesitation or delay it supplies whatever the occasion may require." The test of true oratorical merit lies in thought, and not in words. Take away language from Homer, and however much you have removed, the epic poet is left unimpaired ; but make the same draft upon Virgil, strip him of the- majesty, glow, and fascination of his diction, and the merit that remains will be nearly re- duced to what he borrowed from Homer's plan. It is the same with many speeches which abound in gor- geous passages, captivating images, pathos, fancy, fervid invective, and stinging sarcasm, but which are little im- bued with the intense energy of substantial argument, " An indignant fiery purity" pervades Calhoun's phrase- ology, like heat and resistance- in glowing steel. Ordi- nary composition called metaphysical by virtue of a multitude of artificial technicalities, resembles an incon- gruous assemblage of obsolete dilapidations, rather than a natural distribution of practical materials. But the matter and spirit of Mr. Calhoun's eloquence are not 228 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. embodied in hyperbole, nor violence, nor frivolity, nor pedantry, but come forth simply in clear, forcible, la- conic truth. It is the incarnation and expression of mind, and therefore transcends in worth the flippant nothings of ordinary speakers, as the factitious lustre of the Aphrodite is dull compared with the brow of Raphael's Madonna, and the fantastic carving of a stone mason is stupid beyond endurance beside the divine form of the Greek god. The accuracy and depth of Mr. Calhoun's knowledge are rendered practically evident by a rapid but distinct and fearless expression. Having fixed his eye steadily on the goal he would attain, he advances towards it with a speed and directness which it requires the utmost care to follow. He requires the undivided attention of the reader or listener, and is sure to reward it. Awed and penetrated by his power, we are compelled to acknow- ledge that true argumentation is no mere skirmishing or idle sport, but, on the contrary, it is deeply to feel and earnestly to think. " While thought is standing thick upon the brain As dew upon the brow for thought is brain sweat j And gathering quick and dark, like storms in summer, Until convulsed, condensed, in lightning sport, It plays upon the heavens of the mind, Opens the hemisphered abysses here, And we become revealers to ourselves." We have spoken of the mental clearness and moial directness so strongly marked in the eloquence of Mr. Calhoun. Let us now, in the third place, notice more particularly his logical force. JOHN C. OALHOUN. 229 Lord Bacon, laying down the theory of the advance- ment of fortune, in a singular passage, directs " that there be not anything in being or action which should not be drawn and collected into contemplation and doctrine." Our distinguished countryman seems ever to have acted on this principle, since every day of his mature life has been devoted to the diligent acquisition of knowledge by study and observation the most untiring and diversi- fied. He seems never to have met a man, witnessed an incident, or mingled in a scene, without in some way augmenting his stores of wisdom thereby. His erudi- tion, however, has resulted more from solitary medita- tion, than from social converse, scientific research, or literary recreation. Descartes, writing to a friend, said, " I study here in tensely without a book ;" and it was the well-known saying of Hobbes, " that if he had read as much as others, he might have been as ignorant." But such unreading philosophers, who avoid books, lest they might stand between them and the natural development of inherent force, do not abound in our day. Perhaps the best example extant among our public men is now under consideration, and yet he, we repeat, is no mere idealist. He knows very well that however high and refined the orator's head may be, his feet must rest firmly on com- mon earth, with all its gross imperfections, if he wishes to excite popular sympathies, and command belief. He is habitually contemplative, but values time too highly to sit with the long and "passionful unwinking gaze, which beats itself at last, and sees air only." His is no mere mirage of mind, but the clearest vision on the 230 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. most solid ground. The busy idlers who waste life in doating upon " dreams and dim atomic truths," as little resemble him in temperament and taste, as it is possible to conceive. The effects he designs to produce, are the sensations of power and the delights of conviction. To attain this end, he wastes nothing, not one moment or topic could be spared without irreparable loss, and the hearer feels that the process has been timed and con- summated in a manner as bold as it has been perse- vering. Genius we hold to be that power which enlarges the circle of human knowledge, discovers new materials, and gives the air of novelty to what is already known ; while talent arranges, elaborates, and renders practical the discoveries of genius. Thus defined, we think that Mr. Calhoun is largely endowed with both these attributes. The talents which succeeded the genius of the ancients, applied their potency and polish to instruct and adorn the world by diffusing the refinements of taste, grace, and sentiment, embodied in masculine beauty, mental grandeur and eloquent expression. Such is our states- man philosopher, full of metaphysical subtlety and moral though tfulness. Neither before nor since his entrance into the American Senate, has there been such a union of the orator and sage. His acquired talents are rich and multifarious, and these are mighty auxiliaries to his native capacity, instead of being impediments ; in all their . wealthy profusion, there is " naught cumbrous more than new down to a wing." Profuse divisions diminish, and all superfluous expletives impair, the sim- plicity and clearness of natural expression. Orators JOHN C. CALHOUN. 231 dealing largely in such pedantic artificialness resemble those artists, who have wasted existence in abstract theories on proportion, who have measured the antique in all its forms and characters, compared it learnedly with nature, and mixed up dubious amalgams of both, yet never made one figure stand or move. The specific gravity of such dullness is awful, and will cause its pos- sessor to "drop down oblivion like a pebble in a pit." The form of Mr. Calhoun's eloquence is circumscribed by premeditated lines, characterized by clear, practical sense, and substantiated by a genial enthusiasm, which is to the body of his argument, what the breath of the Almighty was to the yet unvitalized Adam. Taste and elocution not only recommend his speaking to the ear and eye, but the perspicuity of his thought, impressed with a lofty moral import, causes him to be equally in- telligible and captivating to both head and heart. He does not " pit the brain against the bosom, and plead wit before wisdom," but combining the spontaneous and forcible action of all his powers, he touches the sensibilities and sways the judgments of all. His mighty mind, when aroused in debate, is quick with the thunder thought and lightning will, rendering it as im- possible for ordinary antagonists to avert or resist his influence, as for an oak to clasp in ifs arms the tempest that beats upon it. The subjoined sketch was drawn in the .winter of 1837-8, by a political and personal friend, and is valua- ble for its graphic truth": " Mr. Calhoun has evidently taken Demosthenes for his model as- a speakeror rather, I suppose, he has 232 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. studied, while young, his orations with great admiration, until they produced a decided impression upon his mind. His recent speech in defence of himself against the attacks of Mr. Clay, is precisely on the plan of the fa- mous oration De Corona, delivered by the great Athe- nian, in vindication of himself from the elaborate and artful attacks of ^Eschines. While the one says : 1 Athenians! to -you I appeal, my judges and my wit- nesses !' the other says : ' In proof of this, I appeal to you, Senators, my witnesses and my judges on this oc- casion !' JEschines accused Demosthenes of having received a bribe from Philip, and the latter retorted by saying that the other had accused him of doing what he himself had notoriously done. Mr. Clay says that Mr. Calhoun had gone over, and he left it to time to disclose his motives. Mr. Calhoun retorts : ' Leave it to time to disclose my motives for going over ! I, who have changed no opinion, abandoned no principle, and de- serted no party I, who have stood still and maintained my ground against every difficulty, to be told that it is left to time to disclose my motive ! The imputation sinks to the earth with the groundless charge on which it rests. I stamp rt down in the dust. I pick up the dart which fell harmless at my feet. I hurl it back What the Senator charges on me unjustly, he has ac- tually done. He went over on a memorable occasion and did not leave it to time to disclose his motive.' In the conception and arrangement of the whole speech, in fact, there is a remarkable similarity to the speech of the great Athenian. And where could any man find a nobler model ? For withering sarcasm burning invec- JOHN C. (MLHOUN. 233 live lofty declamation for all that is spirit-stirring and glorious in eloquence, there is not on record, in any language, as noble and perfect a specimen as this ora- tion for the crown. " Mr. Calhoun, in the simplicity and brevity of his sentences, throughout all his speeches, shows the model he has studied. In fact, his whole character and life are eminently Greek. His striking and grand concep- tions with his unassuming and plain manners his calm dignity and composure his. sternness and exem- plary purity in private and public life, all show that he has bathed deep in the fountains of antiquity. "In one faculty of the mind he surpasses any public man of the age, and that is in analysis. His power to examine a complex idea, and exhibit to you the simple ideas of which it is composed, is wonderful. Hence it is that he generalizes with such great rapidity, that ordi- nary minds suppose, at first, he is theoretical ; whereas, he has only reached a point at a single bound, to which it would require long hours of sober reflection for them to attain. It is a mistake to suppose that he jumps at his conclusions without due care and consideration; No man examines with more care, or with more intense labor, every question upon which his mind is called 'to act. The difference between him and others is, that he thinks constantly, with little or no relaxation. Hnce the restless activity and energy of his mind always place him far in advance of those around him. He has reached the summit, while they have just commenced to ascend, and cannot readily discover the path which has lead him to his lofty and extensive view. 231 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. "Mr. Calhoun evidently has studied our system of government very profoundly and philosophically, on the leading ideas of the school of Jefferson. His great speech in reply to Mr. Webster, on the federative prin- ciple of the Constitution, and the sovereignty of the States, is one of the most profound and finished com- mentaries upon that noble instrument and its formation, that has ever been produced by the genius of man. On that remarkable occasion, he simplified the points of controversy with his distinguished antagonist to such a degree, that he compelled him to deny that our system of government was a constitutional compact ; and finally forced him to the position, that the Government itself had substantive and independent rights, as if the Government was not made by the Constitution, and had no existence, in a single attribute without it. This de- bate was managed with great power and ability on both sides. Both speakers saw that the whole argument turned upon the point whether the Constitution was a compact or . not. If it was admitted, the wit of man could not avoid the conclusion, that each party to the compact must of necessity judge of its provisions and infractions, or surrender up their original character as sovereign contracting parties, to a government with power to define its own limitations, and, of necessity, to make and unmake the compact at the will and pleasure of those who might chance to give it impulse and vital- ity. This subject eminently suited Mr. Calhoun's mind and habits of thought, and he consequently exhibited a power of argument a distinctness of analysis and a luminous investigation of the attributes and nature ol JOHN C. CALHOUN. 235 government which will stand a monument to his fame, as long as the American eagle shall present to the world that bright constellation of independent States which now glitter and blaze around its brow. No human being can read that speech without feeling that it con- tains the same doctrines which were proclaimed in the Kentucky and Virginia resolutions of '98, and in the immortal report of Mr. Madison, around which the Republican party rallied with the devotion of those who felt the liberties of their country to be involved. " As a public speaker and debater, Mr. Calhoun is energetic and impressive to the highest degree. With- out having much of the action of an orator, yet his compressed lip his erect and stern attitudes his iron countenance, compressed lip, and flashing eye all make him, at times, eloquent in the full sense of the word. No man can hear him without feeling. His power is in clear analysis suppressed passion, and lofty earnest- ness. As to the great questions connected with the currency of the present day, it is vain and idle to con- tend with him. It has been the subject of his daily thoughts for more than twenty years. He is before his age, but he will triumph, and posterity will be aston- ished at the profoundness and the sagacity of his views. Many suppose that he has an absorbing ambition ; but this is a hiistake, and it arises from the natural activity of his mind on all questions of much interest, and his con- stant and ardent patriotism. Devotion to the honor and iberties of his country is his consuming passion, and his ardent pursuit of what he conceives to be her interests is mistaken by -the superficial observer for overweening 236 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. ambition. Ambition he has, but it is high and noble, and like the Roman's, identified with love for Rome. His nullification, so much misunderstood and misrepre- sented, was with him a pure and enthusiastic devotion to the true spirit of the Constitution, and the permanent interest of the whole Union, according to his under- standing of them. His greatest weakness, if weakness it can be called, is his free and unreserved confidence in those who are not his friends. This arises from the natural integrity and unsuspecting character of his heart. Another weakness, perhaps, is, that he talks too much, forgetting that there is often dignity and power in im- pressive silence, particularly after a man has acquired fame. This arises, however, from the simplicity of character and great love of truth, which makes him eager to present her to others, that they may receive and love her, too, with veneration equal to his own." To the above, we may add a few remarks respecting Mr. Calhoun's person and character. Strangers, judging only by his external appearance, are liable to form very unjust conceptions of this extra- ordinary man. His countenance, so marked by deci- sion and firmness ; and his eyes, so large, dark, brilliant, and penetrating : leave no doubt for a moment of a high order of intellect. Still, the contemplator feels like Adam, who, when perceiving Michael, chief of the hea- venly warriors, approaching from afar, says to Eve : "Majesty Invests his coming ; yet not terrible That I should fear, not sociably mild As Raphael."' JOHN C. CALftOUN. 237 There is at first a mixed emotion of respect and fear, as if the individual in question is indeed to be revered for his intellectual capacity, but not to be esteemed for his social worth. How completely does actual acquaint- ance correct such a falsity of view ! Perhaps there is not a man iji the world whose colloquial fascination and endearing social qualities exceed those of Mr. Calhoun. It is true, that while engaged in public functions, he appears as one in whom "the intellectual life is quick in all its parts," and his iron features repel all thoughts of fond and childish glee. But in private, with the harness of forensic warfare laid aside, while he still maintains the dignity of true greatness, no one is more easy of access, more cordial and kind. The genial goodness native to his head and heart are manifest in the spirit of his public conduct. Every- where he is as full of thought as ocean is of brine, but there is no bitterness in his written or living speech. He deals very sparingly in invective ; and never requires the veil of public spirit to be thrown over bis personal antipathies and inordinate self-esteem. He may seem to be "full of obstinate questionings," nice discrimina- tions, and the keen observance of dialectic rules ; but when soaring highest " into that wide and uricircum- scribed sphere wherein spirits excursive and philosophi- cally modest take their range," and gathering there, "if not certain and irrefragable conclusions, at least scat- tered particles of wisdom, which he more highly esteemed than all the stamped coinage whereof dogmatism makes its boast," he never , appears malicious in thought or deed. His loftiest abstractions are embodied in that 238 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. athletic good sense which disdains to stab in the dark, and is equally unambitious of enlarging its apparent magnitude by looming through a fog. He amalgamates an artless angular elocution and rigid mental precision, with perpetual suavity of spirit, in language the most lucid and choice. However specious at firt the system may look which he rises to maintain, he delivers in its defence a prodigious number of pointed observations, which at once are regarded as parliamentary axioms, universal and profound. What in particular is to be observed with regard to Mr. Calhoun is, that, in a pre-eminent degree, his is the eloquence of character. There is a moral power in his life which imparts authority to his speech, and com- mands respect. Nothing in man is valuable that is not. characteristic. Without character, all language is empty and insignificant ; since it is only from this quality that beauty can be developed and truth enforced. A speaker may be hard in his style, severe and dry, and yet not fail to please, provided he is imbued with courteous but decided independence of character and undoubted integ- rity. As this is the only ground of personal worth, so is it the only guarantee of public safety. Talent is always but too readily worshipped ; but, if it be divorced from rectitude of purpose, it is characterized more by the attributes and influence of a demon than a god. It is well, therefore, that " the splendor of corruption hath no power nor vital essence." Honesty is a great part of eloquence. We persuade others most by being sincerely earnest ourselves. This is a virtue that redeems many faults. All magnanimous persons, however much they JOHN C. CALHOUN. 239 differ from Mr. Calhoun in belief, will grant that he is manifestly less a deceiver than deceived. If he errs in judgment, it is his misfortune rather than his crime. Hence his great influence over all parties, and hence, as has been strikingly proved, their anxiety to trust the highest national welfare to his supervision in the darkest hour. Without exaggeration, may we apply to our great fellow-citizen, thus trained and trusted, what was eloquently said of Lord Chatham : " The secretary stood alone. Modern degeneracy had not reached him. Origi- nal and unaccommodating, the features of his character had 1,he hardihood of antiquity ; his august mind over- awed majesty ; and one of his sovereigns thought roy- alty so impaired in his presence, that he conspired to remove him, in order to be relieved from his superiority. No state chicanery, no narrow systems of vicious poli- tics, no idle contest for ministerial victories sunk him to the vulgar level of the great; but, overbearing, persuasive, and impracticable, his object was England, his ambition was fame ; without dividing, he destroyed party ; with- out corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous ; France sunk beneath him ; with one hand he smote the house of Bourbon, and wielded in the other the democracy of England. The sight of his mind was infinite, and his schemes were to affect, not England, not the present age only, but Europe and posterity. Wonderful were the means by which these schemes were accomplished, always seasonable, always adequate, the suggestions of an understanding animated by ardor, and enlightened by prophecy. " The ordinary feelings which make life amiable and 240 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. indolent, --those sensations which soften, and allure, and vulgarize, were unknown to him ; no domestic difficul- ties,, no domestic weakness reached him ; but, aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, and unsullied by its inter- course, he came occasionally into our system to counse 1 and decide. '"A character so exalted, so strenuous, so various, so authoritative, astonished a corrupt age, and the Trea- sury trembled at the name of Pitt through all her classes of venality. Corruption imagined, indeed, that she had found defects in this statesman, and talked much of the inconsistency of his glory, and much of the ruin of his victories but the history of his country, and the calami- ties of the enemy, answered and refuted her. "Nor were his political abilities his only talents; his eloquence was an era in the Senate, peculiar and sponta- eous, familiarly expressing gigantic sentiments and in- stinctive wisdom not like the torrent of Demosthenes, or the splendid conflagration of Tully: it resembled, some* times the thunder, and sometimes the music of the spheres. Like Murray, he did not conduct the understanding through the painful subtilty of argumentation ; nor was he, like Townshend, for ever on the rack of exertion, but rather lightened upon the subject, and reached the point by the flashings of his mind, which, like those of his eye, were felt, but could not be followed. " Yet he was not always correct or polished ; on the contrary, he was sometimes ungrammatical, neg- ligent and unenforcing, for he concealed his art, and was superior to the knack of oratory. Upon many occasions JOHN C. CALHOUN. 241 he abated the vigor of his eloquence ; but even then, like the spinning of a cannon ball, he was still alive with fatal, unapproachable activity. " Upon the whole, there was in this man something that could create, subvert, or reform an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence to summon mankind to society or to break the bonds of slavery asunder, and rule the wildness of free minds with unbounded authority; some- thing that could establish or overthrow empire, and strike a blow in the world that should resound through its history." The bard of Eden said that a poet " ought himself to be a true poem ;" that is a model of the best and most honorable qualities. We do not hesitate to claim such for the distinguished subject of this sketch. It is not a primary ambition with him to exemplify the words of old Puttenham : " Ye shall know that we may dissemble in earnest as well as in sport, under covert and dark terms, and in learned and apparent speeches, in short sentences, and by long ambage and circumstance of words, and finally, as well when we lie, as when we tell truth." He is not one of those " Men of that large profession that an speak To every cause, and things mere contraries, Till they are hoarse again, yet all be law ! That with most quick agility can turn And re-return ; can make knots and undo them, Give forked counsel, take, provoking gold On either hand, and put it up." Mr. Calhoun is a philosophical statesman, whom it is 11 242 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. impossible for those who prize true eloquence, not to admire whom it is impossible for those who justly ap- preciate a generous nature and untarnished worth, not only to respect but love. Perhaps he was never sur- passed for the union of metaphysical acumen and ora- torical energy. He is firm and yet flexible, having little of that granite style, that scholastic stiffness, which, under the abused name of classical correctness, often exhibit all the chilling repulsiveness that belongs to fictitious solidity and affected pomp, pedantic antiqua- rians who have garnered nothing from departed ages but obsolete formulas, and attitudes of stone. Reason is supreme in Mr. Calhoun, but it is not alone ; it is asso- ciated with imagination, and all the gentler attributes. " There is passion enough, but like the steam in a well- regulated engine, it displays itself not in wreaths and puffs of vapor, but in the rapid and methodical action of the machinery it impels. The mind of the student is heated, not by sparks applied to his prejudices, his tastes, to his sense of the ridiculous, or his sense of the sublime, but by the fire which has been raised by the vehement electric rapidity with which the reasoning process has been conducted." In him, argumentation is limited to no single and hackneyed form, but becomes like the princess of the Arabian tale, sword, eagle, 01 flame, according to the war it wages, sometimes pierc- ing, sometimes soaring, sometimes illumining, in every useful form, retaining no fixed image of itself, except that of almost supernatural power. No arch is so beau- tiful as the ancient Roman arch, and, like that of Doric architecture, its beauty arises from its perfect substau- JOHN C. CALHOUN. 243 liability, and the ideas it suggests of strength and use- fulness. And such is a fit type of the eloquence of John C. Calhoun. His features are very striking, invested as they are with thought, expression, sympathy, and passion the undisguised consciousness of intellectual power. His vocabulary is adequate to express all the refinements of analytical distinctions : his countenance is equally ade- quate to convey all the minute subtleties of feeling, when the vocal organs are too much oppressed by emo- tion to speak. He has real greatness, dignity, and force, can inspire a trifle with importance, and wield every forensic implement with effect. Impotency itself be- comes strength in the hands of genius, while the greatest abilities are dwarfed into impotency by the touch of mediocrity. The shepherd's staff of Paris would have been a deadly weapon in the grasp of Achilles ; but the ash of Peleus could only have fallen unused from the dainty fingers of the perfumed and effeminate archer. Only that majesty is truly imposing which is tempered by emanations of intelligence, adorn- ed with honor and softened into love. Such is the cha- racter of Mr. Calhoun, prominent among the " Men whose great thoughts possess us like a passion Through every limb and the whole heart ; whose words Haunt us as eagles haunt the mountain air ; Thoughts which command all coming times and minds, As from a tower a warden." CHAPTER V. GEORGE McDUFFlE, THE IMPETUOUS. IN the subjoined remarks on the eloquence of Mr. McDuffie, we shall endeavor to depict him, not as he is now, in his infirm and emaciated condition, but as he was in the days of his physical firmness and mental glory. Then, his strong memory, expressive physiogno- my, powerful voice, and excited action, gave to him extraordinary weight as a speaker. He broke into the political arena with the fury of a competitor too late for the combat ; and, as if to redeem lost time, or to annihi- late as soon as possible the antagonist who had sum- moned him to the fight, he amazed all by the eloquent violence, the unexampled impetuosity, and fierce ear- nestness with which he smote down his foes. In his best days there was in him an impetuous and concen- trated grandeur, a scornful energy, which was rendered exceedingly effective by spontaneous fervor and a com- prehensive mind. lution, overflowing with warriors and governed by the conqueror, who was catching at the sceptre of the world, was then the owner of Louisiana. The First Consul had extorted it from the King of Spain in the year 1800 ; and the violation of the right of deposite at New Orleans, was the first act of ownership over the THOMAS K BENTON 317 new possession, and the first significant intimations to us of the new kind of neighbor that we had acquired. Con- temporaneously with this act of outrage upon us, was the concentration of twenty-five thousand men, under the general of division, afterwards Marshal Victor, in the ports of Holland, for the military occupation of Louis- iana. So far advanced were the preparations for this expedition, that the troops were ready to sail ; and com- missaries to provide for their reception, were engaged in New Orleans and St. Louis, when the transfer of the province was announced. Now, sir, put it on either foot : Louisiana remains a French, or becomes a British possession. In the first contingency, we must have be- come the ally or the enemy of France. The system of Bonaparte admitted of no neutrals ; and our alternatives would have been, between falling into the train of his continental system, or maintaining a war against him upon our own soil. We can readily decide, that the latter would have been most honorable ; but it is hard to say, which would have been most fatal to our pros- perity, and most disastrous to our republican institu- tions. In the second contingency, and the almost certain one, we should have had England established on our western, as well as on our northern frontier ; and I may. add, our southern frontier also ; for Florida, as the property of the ally of France, would have been a fair subject of British conquest in the war with France and Spain, and a desirable one, after the acquisition of Louisiana, and as easily taken as wished for ; the vessel that brought home the news of the victory at Trafalgar, being sufficient to summon and reduce the places of 318 LIVING ORATORS IN AFRICA. Mobile, Pensacola, St. Marks, and St. Augustine. This nation, thus established upon three sides of our territory, the most powerful of maritime powers, jealous of our commerce, panting for the dominion of the seas, unscru- pulous in the use of savage allies, and nine years after- wards to be engaged in a war with us ! The results of such a position would have been, the loss, for ages and centuries, of the navigation of the Mississippi ; the per- manent occupation of the Gulf of Mexico by the British fleet; the consequent control of the West Indies; and the ravage of our frontiers by savages in British pay. These would have been the permanent consequences, to say nothing of the fate of the late war, commenced with our enemy encompassing us on three sides with her land forces, and covering the ocean in front with her proud navy, victorious over the combined fleets of France and Spain, and swelled with the ships of all na- tions. From these calamitous results, the acquisition of Louisiana delivered us ; and the heart must be little turned to gratitude and devotion, which does not adore the Providence that made the great man President, who seized this gift of fortune, and overthrew the political party that would have rejected it." On the third day of this famous gladiatorial contest, Mr. Benton showed that " there were blows to give as well as blows to take." Referring to the sacred and secular patriots of the South in colonial and revolutionary times, he proceeded to say : " Time and my ability would fail in any attempt to perform this task ; to enumerate the names and acts ot those generous friends in the South, who then stood forth THOMAS H. BENTOV. 319 our defenders and protectors, and gave Us men ancTmo- ney, and beat the domestic foe in the capitol, while we beat the foreign foe in the field. Time and my ability would fail to do them justice ; but there is one State in the South, the name and praise of which, the events of this debate would drag from the stones of the West, if they could rise up in this place and speak ! It is the name of that State upon which the vials, filled with the accumulated wrath of years, have been suddenly and unexpectedly emptied before us, on a motion to postpone a land debate. That State, whose microscopic offence in the obscure parish of Colleton, is to be hung in equi- poise with the organized treason and deep damnation of the Hartford Convention ; that State, whose present dislike to a tariff which is tearing out her vitals, is to be made the means of exciting the West against the -whole South ; that State, whose dislike to the tariff laws is to be made the pretext for setting up a despotic authority in the Supreme Court ; that Stale, which, in the old Congress in 1785, voted for the reduction of the price of public lands to about one- half the present minimum ; which, in 1786, redeemed after it was lost, and carried by its single vote, the first measure that ever was adopted for the protection of Kentucky that of the two companies sent to the Falls of Ohio ; that State, which, in the period of the late war, sent us a LOWNDES, a CHEVES, and a CALHOUN, to fight the battles of the West in the Capitol, and to slay the Goliahs in the North ; that State which at this day has sent to this chamber, the Senator (GEN. HAYNE) whose liberal and enlight- ened speech on the subject of the puiSlic lands, has been 320 LIVIVG ORATORS IN AMERICA. seized upon and made the pretext for that premeditated aggression upon South Carolina, and the whole South which we have seen met with a promptitude, energy, gallantry, and effect, that has forced the assailant to cry out an hundred times, that he was still alive, though we all could see that he was most cruelly pounded. " Memory, Mr. President, is the lowest faculty of the human mind the irrational animals possess it in com- mon with man the poor beasts of the field have mem- ory. They can recollect the hand that feeds, and the foot that kicks them ; and the instinct of self-preserva- tion tells them to follow one and to avoid the other. Without any knowledge of Greek or Latin, these mute, irrational creatures " fear the Greek offering presents ;" they shun the food offered by the hand that has been lifted to take their life. This is their instinct ; and shall man, the possessor of so many noble faculties, with all the benefits of learning and experience, have less mem- ory, less gratitude, less sensibility to danger, than these poor beasts ? And shall he stand less upon his guard, when the hand that smote is stretched out to entice ? Shall man, bearing the image of his Creator, sink thus low? Shall the generous son of the West fall below his own dumb and reasonless cattle, in all the attributes of memory, gratitude, and sense of danger ? Shall his " Timeo Danaos " have been taught him in vain. Shall he forget the things which he saw, and part of which he was the events of the late war the memorable scenes of fifteen years ago ? The events of former times, of forty years ago, may be unknown to those who are born since. The attempt to surrender the navigation of Ine THOMAS If. BENTON. 321 Mississippi ; to prevent the settlement of the West ; the refusal to protect the early settlers of Kentucky and Tennessee, or to procure for them a cession of Indian lands ; all these trials, in which the South was the savior of the West, may be unknown to the young generation that has come forward since ; and with respect to these events, being uninformed, they may be unmindful and ungrateful. They did not see them ; and, like the second generation of the Israelites, in the land of promise, who knew not the wonders which God had done for their forefathers in Egypt, they may plead ignorance and go astray after strange gods after the Baals and the Asta- roths of the heathen ; but not so of the events of the last war. These they saw ! The aid of the South they felt ! The deeds of a party in the north-east they felt also. Memory will do its office for both ; and base and recreant is the son of the West, that can ever turn his back upon the friends that saved, to go into the arms of the enemy that mocked and scorned him, in the season of dire calamity. " I proceed to a different theme. Among the novel- ties of this debate, Mr. President, is that part of the speech of the Senator from Massachusetts which dwells, with such elaboration of argument and ornament, upon the love and blessings of union, the hatred and horror of disunion. It was a part of the Senator's speech which brought into full play the favorite Ciceronian figure of amplification. It was up to the rule in that particular. But it seemed to me that there was another rule, and a higher and a precedent one, which it violated. It was the rule of Propriety ; that rule which requires the fitness of 14* 322 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. things to be considered ; which requires the time, the place, the subject, and the audience to be considered ; and condemns the delivery of the argument, and all its flowers, if it fails in congrument to these particulars. I thought the essay upon union and disunion had so failed. It came to us when we were not prepared for it, when there was nothing in the Senate, nor in the country, to grace its introduction ; nothing to give, or to receive, effect to or from the impassioned scene that we wit- nessed. It may be, it was the prophetic cry of the dis- tracted daughter of Priam, breaking into the council, and alarming its tranquil members with vaticinations of the fall of Troy ; but to me, it all sounded like the sud- den proclamation for an earthquake, when the sun, the earth, the air, announced no such prodigy ; when all the elements of nature were at rest, and sweet repose pervading the world. There was a time, Mr. President, and you, and I, and all of us, did see it, when such a speech would have found, in its delivery, every attri- bute of a just and rigorous Propriety ! It was at the time when the five-striped banner was waving over the land of the North ! when the Hartford Convention was in session ! when the language in the Capitol ^was, "Peaceably, if we can ; forcibly, if we must !" when the cry, out of doors, was, " the Potomac the boundary ; the Negro States by themselves! The Alleghanies the boundary, the western savages by themselves ! The Mississippi the boundary, let Missouri be gov- erned by ? Prefect, or given up as a haunt for wild beasts!" That time was the fit occasion for this THOMAS H. BENTON. 323 speech ; and if it had been delivered then, either in the Hall of Representatives, or in the Den of the Con- vention, or in the highway, among the bearers and fol- lowers of the five-striped banner, what effect must it not have produced ? What terror and consternation among the plotters of disunion! But, here, in this loyal and quiet assemblage, in this season of general tranquillity and universal allegiance, the whole performance has lost its effect for want of affinity, connection, or relation, to any subject depending, or sentiment expressed in the Senate ; for want of any application, or reference, to any event impending in the country." On the 2d of Feburary, 1831, Mr. Benton delivered his most celebrated speech against the renewal of the charter of the Bank of the United States. It is char- acterized throughout by severe argument and that copi- ousness of statistical information for which this speaker is distinguished. The following is the closing portion : " I have said that the charter of the Bank of the United States cannot be renewed. And in saying this, f wish to be considered, not as a needless denunciator, supplying the place of argument by empty menace, but as a Senator, considering well what he says, after hav- ing attentively surveyed his subject. I repeat, then, that the charter cannot be renewed !' And, in coming to the conclusion of this peremptory opinion, I acknow- ledge no necessity to look beyond the walls of this Capi- tol, bright as may be the consolation which rises on the vision from the other end of the avenue ! I confine my view to the halls of Congress, and joyfully exclaim, k is no longer the year 1816 ! Fifteen years have gone . .,24 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. by ; times have changed, and former arguments havo lost their application. We were then fresh from war, loaded with debt, and with all the embarrassments which follow in the train of war. We are now settled down in peace and tranquillity, with all the blessings attendant upon quiet and repose. There is no longer a single consideration urged in favor of chartering the Bank in 1816, which can have the least weight or ap- plication, in favor of re-chartering it now. This is my assertion ! a broad one it may be ; but no less true than broad. Let us see! What were the arguments in 1816 ? Why, first, 'to pay the public creditors' I an- swer this is no longer anything, for before 1836 that function will cease; there will be no more creditors to pay. 2. ' To transfer the public moneys.' That will be nothing ; for, after the payment of the public debt, we shall have no moneys to transfer. The twelve millions of dollars which are now transferred annually to the North-East, to pay the public creditors, will then remain in the pockets of the people, and the reduced expendi- tures of the government will be made where the money is collected. The army and the navy, after the ex- tinction of the debt, will be the chief objects of expendi- ture ; and they will require the money, nearer on the frontiers, convenient to the land forces, or on the sea- board, convenient to the custom-houses. Thus will transfers of revenue become unnecessary. 3. ' To make loans to the General Government' That is noth ing ; for the General Government will want no loans in time of peace, not even out of its own deposites ; for the prospect of war is rather too distant at present to THOMAS H. BENTON. 325 make new loans-on that account. 4. ' To pay the Pen- sioners.' That is something, I admit, when the pay- ments exceed a million per annum. But what will it be after 1836? When the hand of death, and the scythe of time, shall have committed five years more of ravages in their senile ranks. The mass of these heroical monuments are the men of the Revolution. They are far advanced upon that allegorical bridge so beautifully described in the vision of Mirza. They have passed the seventy arches which are sound and entire, and are now treading upon the broken ones, where the bridge is full of holes, and the clouds and darkness setting in. At every step some one stumbles and falls through, and is lost in the ocean beneath. In a few steps more the last will be gone. Surely it can- not be necessary to keep up for twenty years, the vast establishment of the Federal Bank to pay the brief sti- pends of these fleeting shadows. Their country can do it, can pay the pensions as well as give them and do it for the little time that remains with no other regret than that the grateful task is to cease so soon. 5. ' To regulate the currency.' I answer ; the joint resolution of 1816 will do that, and will effect the regu- lation without destroying on the one hand, and without raising up a new power, above regulation, on the other. Besides, there is some mistake in this, phrase, currency. The word in the Constitution is coin. It is the value of coin which Congress is to regulate; and to include bank notes under that term is to assume a power, not of construction for no construction can be wild and boundless enough to construe coin, that is to say, me- 826 LIV NO ORATORS IV AMERICA. tallic money melted, cast and stamped into paper notes printed and written but it is to assume a power of life and death over the Constitution ; a power to de- throne and murder one of its true and lawful words, and to set up a bastard pretender in its place. I invoke the spirit of America upon the daring attempt ! 6. ' To equalize exchanges, and sett bills of exchange for the half of one per cent! This is the broker's argument ; very fit and proper to determine a question of broker- age; but very insufficient to determine a question of great national policy, of State rights, of constitutional difficulty, of grievous taxation, and of public and pri- vate subjugation to the beck and nod of a great money- ed oligarchy. 7. ' A bonus of a million and a half of dollars.' This, Mr. President is Esau's view of the subject ; a very seductive view to an improvident young man, who is willing to give up the remainder of his life to chains and poverty, provided he can be so- laced for the present with a momentary and insignifi- cant gratification. But what is it to the United States ? to the United States of 1836! without a shil- ling of debt, and mainly occupied with the reduction of taxes ! Still this bonus is the only consideration that can now be offered, and surely it is the last one that ought to be accepted. We do not want the money ; and, if we did, the recourse to a bonus would be the most execrable form in which we could raise it. What is a bonus ? Why, in monarchies, it is a price paid to the king for the privilege of extorting money out of his subjects ; with us, it is a price paid to ourselves for the privilege of extorting money out of ourselves. The ** ^ - jfc* * ^. r*Tlr *tf < THOiMAS H. BENTON. 327 more of it the worse ; for it has to be paid back to the extortioners, with a great interest upon it. It is related by the English historian Clarendon, who cannot be sus- pected of overstating any fact, to the prejudice of the Stuart kings, that for 1,500 advanced to Charles the First in bonuses, no less than 200,000 were extorted from his subjects : being at the rate of 133 taken from the subject for l advanced to the king. What the Bank of the" United States will have made out of the peo- ple of the United States, in twenty years, in return for its bonus of $1,500,000, (which, I must repeat, has been advanced to us out of our own money,) has been shown to be about sixty-six millions of dollars. What, it would make in the next twenty years, when secure possession of the renewed charter should free the insti- tution from every restraint, and leave it at full liberty to pursue the money, goods and lands of the people in every direction, cannot be ascertained. Enough can be ascertained, however, to show that it must be infi- nitely beyond what it has been. There are some. data upon which some partial and imperfect calculations can be made, and let us essay them. In the first place, the rise of the stock, which cannot be less than that of the Bank of England, in its flourishing days, (probably more, as all Europe is now seeking investments here,) may reach 250 per cent., or 150 above par. This, upon a capital of thirty-five millions, would give a profit of $42,500,000 : a very pretty sum to be cleared by opera- tion of law ! to be added to the fortunes of some indi- viduals, aliens as well as citizens, by the mere passage of an act of Congress ! 328 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. In the next place, the regular dividends, assiimihg them to equal those of the Bank of England in its meri- dian, would be ten per cent, per annum. This would give $3,500,000 for the annual dividend ; and $70,000,000 for the aggregate of twenty years. In the third place, the direct expenses of the Institution, now less than $400,000 per annum, would, under the new and mag- nificent expansion which the operations of the Bank would take, probably exceed half a million per annum ; say $10,000,000 for the whole term. Putting these three items together, which is as far as data in hand will enable us to calculate, and we have $122,500,000 of profits made out of the people, equal to a tax of $6,000,- 000 per annum. How much more may follow, is wholly unascertainable, and would depend upon the moderation, the justice, the clemency, the mercy and forbearance, of the Supreme Central Directory, who, sitting on their tripods, and shaking their tridents over the moneyed ocean, are able to raise, and repress, the golden waves at pleasure : who being chief purchasers of real estate, may take in towns and cities, and the whole country round, at one fell swoop ; who, being sole lenders of money, may take usury, not only at 46, but at 460 per cent. : who being masters of all other banks, and of the Federal Government itself, may compel these tributary establishments to ransom their servile existences with the heavy, and repeated exactions of Algerine cupidity. The gains of such an institution defy calculation. There is no example on earth with which to compare it. The Bank of England, in its proudest days, would afford but an inadequate and imper- THOMAS H. BENTON. 329 feet exemplar; for the power of that Bank was counter poised, and its exactions limited, by the wealth of the landed aristocracy, and the princely revenues of great merchants and private bankers. But with us, there would be no counterpoise, no limit, no boundary, to the extent of exactions. All would depend upon the will ot the Supreme Central Directory. The nearest approach to the value of this terrific stock, which my reading has suggested, would be found in the history of the famous South Sea Company of the last century ; whose shares rose in leaps from 100 to 500, and from 500 to 1000 per cent.; but, with this immeasurable and lamentable differ- ence, that that was a BUBBLE! this, a REALITY! And who would be the owners of this imperial stock? Widows and orphans, think you ? as ostentatiously set forth in the report of last session ? No, sir ! a few great capitalists; aliens, denizens, naturalized subjects; and some native citizens ; already the richest of the land ; and, who would avail themselves of their intelligences, and their means, to buy out the small stockholders on the eve of the renewal. These would be the owners. And where would all this power and money centre ? In the great cities to the north-east, which have been for forty years, and that by force of federal legislation, the Lion's den of southern and western money; that den into which all the tracks point inwards ; from which the returning track of a solitary dollar has never yet been seen! And, this is the institution for which a renewed existence is sought for which, the votes of the people's representatives are claimed! But, no! Impossible ! It cannot be ! The Bank is done. The arguments of 330 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. will no longer apply. Times have changed ; and the policy of the Republic changes with the times. The war made thj^Blluk ; peace wi)I unmake it. The bale- ful planet (JFfirvand blood,.and every human woe did bring tha^ pestilence upon us; the benignant star of peace shall chase it away." One of the most instructive of Mr. Benton's speeches was that on the Oregon question, delivered in the Senate in May, 1846. The following is a fair sample : " The value of the country, I mean the Columbian River and its valley, (I must repeat the limitation every time, lest I be carried up to 54 40) has been questioned on this floor and elsewjiere. It has been supposed to be of little value, hardly worth the possession, much less the acquisition, and treated rather as a burden to be got rid of, than as a benefit to be preserved. This is a great error, afid one that only prevails on this side of the water ;' the British know better, afcd if they held the tithe of our title they would fi^ht the world for what we depreciate. It is not a worthless country, but one of immense value, and that under many aspects, and will be occupied by others, to our injury and annoyance, if not by ourselves for our own benefit and protection. Forty years ago it was written by Humboldt that the banks of the Columbia presented the only situation on the north-west coast of America fit for the residence of a civilized people. Experience has confirmed the truth of this wise remark. It is valuable, both as a country to be inhabited and as a position to be held and defended. I speak of it, first, as a position, commanding the North Pacific Ocean, THOMAS H. BENTON. 331 and overlooking .the eastern coast of Asia. The North Pacific is a rich sea, and is already the seat of a great commerce; British, French, American, Russian, and ships of other nations frequent it. Our whaling ships cover it, our ships of war go there to protect our interest, and, great as that interest now is, it is only the beginning. Futurity will develop an immense and va- rious commerce on that sea, of which the far greater part will be American. That commerce, neither in the merchant ships which carry it on, nor in the military marine which protects it, can find a port to call its own, within twenty thousand miles of the field of its operations. The double length of the two Americas has to be run, a stormy and tempestuous cape to be doubled, to find itself in a port of its own country, while here lies one in the very edge of its field, ours by right, ready for use, and ample for every purpose ot refuge and repair, protection and domination. Can we turn our back upon it? and, in turning the back, deliver it up to the British ? Insane and suicidal would be the fatal act ! To say nothing of the daily want of such a port in time of peace, its want in time of war becomes ruinous. If we abandon, England will retain ! And her wooden walls, bristling with cannon, and issuing from the mouth of the Columbia, will give the law to the North Pacific, permitting our ships to sneak about in time of peace sinking, seizing, or chasing them away in time of war. As a position, then, and if nothing but a rock or desert point, the possession of Columbia is invaluable to us ; and if becomes our duty to maintain it at all hazards. 332 LIVING ORATORS IN AMER/CA. " Agriculturally the value of the country is great ; and, to understand it in all its extent, this large country should be contemplated under its different divisions the threefold natural geographical divisions under which it presents itself: the maritime, the middle, and the mountain districts. Mr. Benton then proceeds to speak of the agricultural nature of the country, under these three natural geogra- phical divisions and discovers an intimate acquaintance with the nature of the soil, and a familiarity with statisti- cal information which show him to be a master of his subject, and which forcibly exhibit his reasons for con- sidering "the region, drained by the waters of the Columbia as one of the valuable divisions of the North American Continent." We omit this portion of his speech, and pass to the considerations by which he illustrates the commercial importance of Oregon. He says: "Commercially, the advantages of Oregon will be great far greater than any equal portion of the Atlantic States. 'The eastern Asiatics, who will be their chief customers, are more numerous than our customers in western Europe, more profitable to trade with, and less dangerous to quarrel with. Their articles of commerce are richer than those of Europe ; they want what the Oregons will have to spare, bread and provisions, and have no systems of policy to prevent them from pur- chasing these necessaries of life from those who can sup- ply them. The sea which washes their shores is every way a better sea than the Atlantic ; richer in its whale and other fisheries ; in the fur regions which enclose it THOMAS H. BENTON. 333 to the north ; more fortunate in the tranquillity of its character, in its freedom from storms, gulf streams and icebergs; in .its perfect adaptation to steam naviga- tion ; in its intermediate or half way islands and its myriad of rich islands on its further side; in its freedom from maritime powers on its coasts, except the Ameri- can, which is to grow up at the mouth of the Columbia. As a people to trade with, as a sea to navigate, the Mon- golian race of eastern Asia, and the North Pacific Ocean, are far preferable to the European and the At- lantic. " It would seem that the White race alone received the divine command to subdue and replenish the earth! for it is the only race that has obeyed it the only one that hunts out new and distant lands, and even a New World, to subdue and replenish. Starting from western Asia, taking Europe for their field, and the sun for their guide, and leaving the Mongolians behind, they ar- rived, after many ages, on the shores of the Atlantic, which they lit up with the lights of science and reli- gion, and adorned with the useful and the elegant arts. Three and a half centuries ago, this race, in obedience to the great command, arrived in the New World, and found new lands to subdue and replenish. For a long time it was confined to the border of the new field (I now mean the Celtic Anglo-Saxon division) ; and even forescore years ago the philosophic Burke was considered a rash man because he said the English colonists would top the Alleghanies, and descend into the valley of the Mississippi, and occupy without parchment, if the Crown 334 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. refused to make grants of land. What was considered a rash declaration eighty years ago, is old history, in our young country, at this day. Thirty years ago, I said the same thing of the Rocky Mountains and the Columbia : it was ridiculed then ; it is becoming history to-day. The venerable Mr. Macon has often told me that he remembered a line low down in North Carolina, fixed by a royal governor as a boundary between the Whites and the Indians : where is that boundary now ? The van of the Caucasian race now top the Rocky Mountains, and spread down to the shores of the Pacific. In a 'few years a great population will grow up there, luminous with the accumulated lights of European and American civilization. Their presence in such a posi- tion cannot be without its influence upon eastern Asia. 'The sun of civilization must shine across the sea : so- cially and commercially the van of the Caucasians and the rear of the Mongolians must intermix. They must talk together, and trade together, and marry together. Commerce is a great civilizer, social intercourse as great, and marriage greater. The White and Yellow races can marry together, as well as eat and trade together. Moral and intellectual superiority will do the rest ; the White race will take the ascendant, elevating what is susceptible of improvement, wearing out what is not. The Red race has disappeared from the Atlantic coast : the tribes that resisted civilization met extinction. This is a caus of lamentation with many. For my part, 1 cannot murmur at what seems to be the effect of Divine law. f I cannot repine that this Capitol has replaced the wigwam this Christian people replaced the savages THOMAS H. BENTON. 335 white matrons the red squaws, and that such men as Washington, Franklin, and Jefferson have taken the place of Powhattan, Opechonecanough, and other red men, howsoever respectable they may have been as savages. Civilization or extinction has been the fate of all people who have found themselves in the track of the advancing Whites, and civilization, always the pre- ference of the Whites, has been pressed as an object while extinction has followed as a consequence of its resistance. The black and the red races have often felt their ameliorating influence. The yellow race, nexl to themselves in the scale of mental and moral excellence, and in the beauty of form, once their superiors in the useful and elegant arts, and in learning, and stiil respecta- ble though stationary ; this race cannot fail to receive a new impulse from the approach of the Whites, improved so much since so many ages ago they left the western borders of Asia. The apparition of the van of the Cau- casian race, rising upon them in the east after having left them on the west, and. after having completed the circumnavigation of the globe, must wake up and re- animate the torpid body of old Asia. ,Our position and policy will commend us to their hospitable reception: political considerations will aid the action of social and commercial influences. Pressed upon by the great Powers of Europe- -the same that press upon us they must in our appr^tu :. see the advent of friends, not of foes; of benefactors, not of invaders. The moral and intellectual superiority of the White race will do the rest; and thus, the youngest people, and the newest 336 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. land, will become the reviver and the regenerator of the oldest. " It is in this point of view, and as acting upon the social, political, and religious condition of Asia, and giving a new point of departure to her ancient civiliza- tion, that I look upon the settlement of the Columbia river by the van of the Caucasian race as the most mo- mentous human event in the history of man since his dispersion over the face of the earth." It would be easy to multiply a great variety of sam- ples from Mr. Benton's speeches, but the above are suffi- cient for our purpose, and we have room for no more. We proceed to speak more particularly of his character as an orator. He is, we think eminently laborious, imperious, and democratic in his habits, spirit, and style. In the first place, Mr. Benton is uncommonly indus- trious in preparing for public discussions, and in the discharge of professional duties. It has been said of Macaulay, that he is one of the great guns of debate, one which it takes a long time to load, and still more to bring into position : when fired it makes a great noise, hurts some of the enemy, perhaps, and frightens more : but the action is always decided before the gun can be reloaded. Not so with Benton, since he is ever sup- plied with a great amount of ammunition fitted to every mode of warfare, and which he can bring into effective use in the most sudden and momentous crisis. The foregoing specimens exhibit the affluence of his statis- tical information, gathered from all reliable sources, and fitted to aid the attainment of all practical designs. THOMAS H. BENTON. 337 When it is calm in the Senate, he is busy in the archives of the nation, exploring our history and study- ing our wants, that whenever a political storm arises he may rush to the arena fully equipped and "ready for any fate." It is only by perpetual industry that one can acquire adequate resources, and use them with pleasure as well as with effect. The less we confine ourselves to limited fields and particular models, the more we shall profit by universal excellence, and the nearer we shall approxi- mate in our habitual execution to the great general rules of exalted nature and elaborate art. In the second place, all who have heard Mr. Benton much, know that he habitually bears an imperious aspect, and is not unfrequently betrayed by strong feeling into imperious action, in public speech. He carries the con- sciousness of high station, and the air of high talent ; a portable treasure of confidence, which it is difficult to fathom and dangerous to offend. Generally he is busy at his desk, with heaps of books and papers all around, and with pen in hand, ready to transcribe a precedent, note a blunder, or project an argument. But when there is no important business going forward, he still preserves a magisterial dignity of deportment, throwing back his head and forming with his chin an obtuse angle with the horizon, as if to repel all familiarity and make the most of every moment as it flies. Mr. Benton is not one of those who " let I dare not wait upon I would," like the poor cat in the adage. He is resolute and daring in debate, sometimes to a reckless degree. The manner in which he recently conducted 15 338 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. the defence of his son-in-law illustrates what we mean by the magisterial element of his nature. It is hard for him to endure restraint, and when too much chafed he fiercely acts the part of a hero, like Macbeth, who " un- seemed a man from the nave to the chaps." Anger, we know it has been said, is one of the sinews of the soul : he that wants it hath a maimed mind. But there is danger that this element may so much prevail as to dis- figure its possessor rather than fortify or ennoble him. Moderation is the silken string running through the pearl- chain of all virtues, without which the orator suffers more than any other man, since he can command others only so far as he commands himself. The utility of high mettle is found in being docile to the curb while it needs not the spur. A man must have spirit or he cannot hope to have influence. Tamely to shrink from a collision with his equals or superiors, will inevitably and speedily lead him to sink below himself. He who is afraid to express a strong opinion, or to strike a hard blow, for. fear that the word or the blow may be retaliated, is a mental coward of the most abject type. Such persons soon form the base habit of throwing them- selves on the forbearance of their antagonists, and find impunity in their insignificance. So long as they are thus afraid of making enemies they never deserve to have true friends and seldom find them. In saying that Mr. Benton is laborious as a student, and magisterial in attitude and manner as an orator, we should particularly observe, thirdly, that he is democratic in purpose and humane in spirit. He professes to seek - the greatest good of the greatest number, and this i> THOMkS H. BENTON. 339 doubtless the source of his most palpable faults and fair- est virtues. It is said that he is sometimes too fractious for a dignified Senator ; but it is quite probable that his energy is that of deep, conscientious conviction, rather than .ephemeral passion. He is too egotistical, say others, not sufficiently remembering, perhaps, that one may seem to be most guilty in this respect, when in reality he is least blameworthy The speaker who sees a grand principle most clearly, and- feels its value most acutely, will for this very good reason be most like- to say, /assert this or / believe that. This kind of ego- tism is infinitely more praiseworthy than the .too com- mon iuism which, with crafty circumlocution, affects a modest air in order the more basely to secrete a cow- ardly and selfish aim. The orator in question has ever been free and independent in his habits of thought and action, evidently sincere in his convictions, and bold, but not pertinaciously impertinent, in enforcing them. Whatever may be thought of his doctrines, or his mode of stating them, it is certain no honest antagonist will accuse him of duplicity or servility of spirit. Just as the slavery of the body causes the moral sensitiveness to languish, so intellectual vassalage enervates the imag- ination and deadens the 'soul. The mind, in its daring excursions and fearless expressions, mnst explore the realms of thought and fancy with a native and enthusi- astic freedom, like Sinbad in the Valley of Diamonds, and while thus surrounded by invaluable riches, the ad- venturer, at liberty to choo?e and use for himself, will disdain all but the most resplendent gems. Mr. Benton has long been u:i apostle of republican- 340 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. ism, and sometimes his constitutional ardor may have hurried him to the verj' verge of demagogical fury, but we are not aware that this has ever been prompted by an ambition either to obtain office or increase worldly emoluments. For many years he has been accustomed to observe the dragon reed of cunning and powerful monopolists swarming thick around the masses of their countrymen to deprive them of lawful rights, "And not content the fruits to gather free, He lends the crowd his arm to shake the tree." In our- day the people at large are rapidly growing indisposed longer to tolerate great wrongs, whether of regal or republican stamp. What is most needed is a class of bold, brave, and good leaders, who dare, by precept and example, to " speak the truth and do the right,'' patriots who in the most exalted sphere will shrink from no browbeating and tyrannical aristocrat, " Although his ancient but ignoble blood Has crept through scoundrels ever since the flood." The purest eloquence is always democratic in spirit, because it has public utility for its aim, and human hap- piness for its inspiration. It always leads, and mainly sustains the great contention of the many against the few, for the recovery of their rights and the assertion of their interests. True eloquence is essentially demo- cratical, since it deals with the universal, appeals to the common heart of man, and labors to promote the wel- fare of all mankind. Its chief ingredients are feeling, THCMAS H. BENTON. 341 thought, and -passion, and not external rank, glitter, or station. It is not a power only, but beneficent goodness also. The finest displays of moral grandeur, such as those which portray Prometheus, blessing the human race and defying the thunder of Jove, even when chained to the barren rock, with the vulture gnashing at his heart, are but the principles which in every age have animated the heroes who have struck for freedom, braving the dungeon, the stake, and the scaffold, in their devotion to. liberty, and their determination to emanci- pate themselves and their fellow- creatures from every iniquitous bond. The noblest times of free government have ever been the grandest eras of oratorical develop- ment. " Thus it triumphed in ancient Greece ; its revi- val in modern days was when mind first broke loose from the superstition of ages, heaved off the authority of the church and the schools, and entwined itself with the feeling and the tendencies of human life. It ever has an affinity, not with the few in their distinctions, but with the many in their common properties, passions, fears, sorrows, rejoicings, and triumphs. It invites man as it were, to a great feast, of which nature is the pro- vision in all its diversity for eloquence, like poetry, is the reflection of nature in the human soul ; and there it offers him, not unsubstantial fare in gilded dishes, but angels' food, and nectar of the gods. Imagination is the truth-seeing and beauty-seeing power ; it is that which appreciates sublimity and loveliness, whether physical or moral ; and by it man grows up into like order and harmony, and in similar loveliness ; he aspires towards 842 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. an affinity of grandeur, and realizes the purposes of his own existence in this majestic world." Every orator really inspired, and who moulds his pub- lic life according to the promptings of his better nature, will instinctively plead the native rights of the many rather than prostitute his talents to promote the unna- tural immunities of the few. It is riot uncommon that we see even the veteran in partisan warfare, if really well endowed, yield to the nobler promptings of his soul, and breathe a magnanimous strain which at once sur- prises and delights both friends and foes. We may re- gard such a man as in the position of the old prophet Balaam; when he intends to curse democracy, he is obliged, from the power of truth within him, to bless it. He is like the soothsayer, sent for from a far country the seven altars erected for sacrifice the incense rising in clouds ; but when the inspiration comes, instead of malediction upon the people, he begins : " How goodly are thy tents. O Jacob! and thy tabernacles, O Israel!" We live in an age which demands the services oi men as industrious, resolute, and magnanimous as Mr. Benton, or any other public functionary can be. We need master-spirits in every exalted sphere, whose dig- nity is inherent and not assumed, a natural nobility of soul which commands spontaneous reverence ; and not that pompous and arrogant grandeur as vulgar as it is mean, the incarnation of insolence and utterly unwor- thy of respect. What the great commonality wants is moral force, soul, manliness. These qualities, united with sound judgment and fertile imagination, contribute perpetual delight and admiration to the uneducated, THOMAS H. BENTON. 343 as well as to the most highly cultivated minds. The; multitude prefers rugged naturalness in an inferior order of eloquence, to feebleness and insipidity in the highest. Even manifest defects become a man, when they are of natural growth, and the bold elements of an original character. Of this truth we have a striking in- stance in Mirabeau. We are to bear in mind, however, that the most mighty champions have ever been the gentlest. The greatest geniuses on earth, in all their grandest and most beautiful conceptions, never overstep the modesty of nature, however wild their fancy, or fervid their feelings. Dignified and effective passion never expresses itself in violence and grimace. All extraordinary excellence is produced not by any one quality, but by the combined influence of many ; it is not exclusive sublimity of conception, the most acute discrimination of character, the widest sphere of com- prehension, the most judicious and elaborate composi- tion, nor the greatest pungency of expression: it is rather the union and simultaneous action of all these kindred powers. Energy of conception, and refinement of taste are the leading elements, so that grace of exe- cution and perfection of finish go hand in hand ; but the result when complete is many-sided, .comprising diver- sified elements, each one admirable in itself. The ele- gance and truth of the details equal the intrinsic worth and symmetrical giandeur of the whole. How much of this excellence Mr. Benton possesses, we leave the reader to infer from the specimens adduced above, and the traits portrayed. That he may be much 344 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. more fully prepared to form a just conception of the pri- vate worth, as well as public usefulness of the distin- guished subject of our own very imperfect sketch, we subjoin the following conclusion of the biographical no- tice with which we began : " In all the domestic relations of life, Col. Benton is a remarkably exemplary man ; he is highly fortunate and happy in his family. He mixes little in general society, being but rarely tempted by any of its attractions from his own fireside, his family, studies, and the public busi- ness to which his zealous attention is unremitting. In person he is large, robust, of florid complexion, and powerful frame, capable of enduring fatigue, both men- tal and physical, under which but few other men could bear up. His reputation has been frequently assailed, with reference to his early youth, with slanders utterly false and base, of which he has never condescended to take the slightest notice imitating, in this self-confident scorn of such unworthy assailants, the example of the great founder of his political school, Jefferson. " One remarkable trait of his public life deserving ot notice, is the elevation of his ambition above the attrac- tions of office. No one can doubt that during the late administration, his wish could have readily commanded from Gen. Jackson to whom he rendered a support, made, by their peculiar personal relation, so honorable to both almost any such gratification within the gift of the latter. He has always, however, preferred to any other the seat which he has so long occupied in the Senate of the United States, as the post (during all that time) of THOMAS H. BENTON. 315 the highest usefulness to the cause of his principles, and therefore of the highest honor. " In the style of his oratory, Col. Benton is forcible and very effective in the powerful struggle of debate. His manner is rhetorical, and he is at times too diffuse. He is often singularly happy in his metaphorical illus- trations, in which he is very abundant, though he is sometimes hurried, in the flow of his language, into metaphors, which once entangled in them, it is not easy to manage very gracefully. A progressive improve- ment in his oratory has, however, been very evident within the last few years, his taste being purified from some bad habits of style, by which it was for- merly disfigured. He may be said literally, according to the well-known maxim of Cicero, to have made himself an orator, having had to struggle against the apparently natural disadvantages of an incorrect and false taste. We have heard the remark made by one of his friends, that his best speech will not be delivered for ten years yet to come, and that he will have attained the age at which Cicero achieved his highest triumph, before he will have brought out all the capacity of elo- quence within him. He is laborious in preparation of his materials, as he is usually luminous and forcible in their arrangement and use. Some of his best efforts have, however, been entirely extemporaneous. He has that faculty indispensable to greatness, a strong memory ; and his extensive reading, and particularly his familiarity with all ancient and modern history, often supplies him with happy and striking illustrations of his positions. But his great strength consists in the 15* 346 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. sincere force of his own convictions ; in his unhesitating confidence in the eventual support of his opinions by the verdict of the public judgment ; in the firmness and earnestness of his own will ; in the accumulation of facts which he brings to bear upon his subject, driving his nail home with repeated blows of a hammer that tells whenever it strikes. He is not generally esteemed a pleasing speaker, we believe, by the frequenters of the Senate galleries ; but in that body itself he often carries great weight, and there can be no doubt that his speeches within the last six or eight years have told with a more abiding effect on the mind of the country at large than those of any other individual." **- * CHAPTER VIII. WILLIAM C. PRESTON, THE INSPIRED DECLAIMER. WE loVe good speaking, and will make almost any sacrifice to enjoy the best. Ten years ago, we per- formed a lon]| imd expensive journey to Washington, on purpose to hear the lions roar. At that time, what an array of talent-there was in Congress! The morning after our arrival, we hurried to the Capitol, glanced at the works of art and the elegant grounds, waiting for the doors to open, when we immediately ensconced qurself in the Senate gallery. The dignitaries soon be- gan to drop into their seats. Some of them we had seen elsewhere, and the most were recognized at once> from prints or verbal descriptions. But there was. one in particular whom we were anxious to see and hear. Newspaper accounts of his matter and manner had ex- cited the liveliest curiosity, and we had come a weary way to seek its gratification "Pray, sir," said we to a reporter, "which is Mr. Preston ?" " That's him," was the reply, pointing to a somewhat large and decidedly heavy-looking personage, with brown 348 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. coat and a little switch cane, round-shouldered, yellow- ish wig, and florid complexion, trudging about with good-natured greetings to all in a kind of whining tone and careless air, everywhere met with smiles, and with everybody cracking a joke. This was a poser, indeed. We were looking for a prim, scholastic dignitary, with a most refined aspect and reserved manner, stooping to small talk only in selectest circles, and then always in ore rotunda style. Business began at length, and it was worse still. This great orator of South Carolina, of whom our friend James C. Brooks had written so vividly, arose to second a resolution. He stood in a most unclassical position, bending forward, with his hands resting on two desks beneath him, his face expressionless, and his whole de- livery as devoid of our preconceived notions as it could possibly be. Had he not more than once responded to the call of his name, we should have doubted his iden- tity. But, wait a bit. An expected debate was postponed, and a bill came up suddenly for final action, in which Mr. Preston was a good deal interested. It was a criti- cal moment for the measure involved, and he rose again to speak. How different! Not three minutes had passed before we saw a new man there. He insensibly assumed an erect position, as elastic as it was command- ing ; his countenance changed its aspect as palpably as the landscape is changed by the sun bursting through sombre clouds ; his muscles rounded out in a fuller and fairer symmetry ; and the veins of his forehead swelled with the heated currents of almost preternatural energv WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 349 his voice was suddenly changed into deep and mellow tones, with now and then a slight trembling that indi- cated intense emotion ; those short, significant sentences, so peculiar to his higher efforts, shot out in every direc- tion like hissing bolts ; every eye and ear of a rapidly gathered throng seemed entranced before the speaker as he fulmined like one truly inspired. Since that day of unexpected disappointment and unequalled gratification, we have heard a great deal of debating in Washington, London, and Paris, but have never met a second WILLIAM C. PRESTON. There may be others who are sounder logicians, more finical rhetoricians, shrewder politicians, or abstruser meta- physicians ; but where is a competitor, who can excel him in lucid, fiery, and captivating declamation ? It is not our purpose, in the present instance, to en- cumber ourselves with biographical details. We have more genial matter in hand, and shall proceed at once to select several examples of our orator's composition, preparatory to an analysis of his peculiarly pungent elo- quence. We begin with extracts from the speech de- livered by Mr. Preston in the Senate, March 1, 1836 on the Abolition question : " Mr. President : I deeply regret the course which this discussion has taken. I have remarked its progress with much pain, with a feeling of anxiety and depres- sion, which I find great difficulty in expressing. It has been mixed up with all those small topics of party and personal bitterness which, whether properly or not, enter so largely into the ordinary debates of the Senate, but which are altogether misplaced, and dangerous 350 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. when connected with the consideration of those deep and vital interests involved in any discussion of the institution of slavery. It is very desirable, as has been well suggested by the Senator from Massachusetts, that, if we must deliberate on this subject, we do so with all the calmness possible, and with a deliberate and com- bined effort to do what is best under the perilous cir- cumstances which surround us, uninfluenced by the paltry purposes of party. In whatever temper you may come to it, the discussion is full of danger. The fact that you are deliberating on this subject of slavery, inspires my mind with the most solemn thoughts. No matter how it comes before you ; no matter whether the question be preliminary or collateral, you have no juris- diction of it in any of its aspects. These doors should be closed against it ; for you have no right to draw .into question here an institution guaranteed by the Constitu- tion, and on which, in fact, the right of twenty-two Senators to a seat in this body is founded and, em- phatically, you have no right to assail, or to permit to be assailed, the domestic relations of a particular section of the country, which you are incapable of appreciating of which you are necessarily ignorant which the Constitution puts beyond your reach, and which a fair courtesy, it would seem, should exempt from your dis- cussion. It exacts some patience in a southern man, to sit here and listen, day after day, to enumerations of the demoralizing effects of his household arrangements con- sidered in the alstract to hear his condition of life lamented over, and to see the coolness with which it is proposed to admit petitioners who assail, and vilify, and ^ WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 351 pity him, on the ground that it would hurt their feelings if we do not listen to them. We sit here and hear all this, and more than this. We hear ourselves accused of being agitators, because we ask the question, is it the pleasure of the Senate to hear those who thus assail us? As yet, Mr. President, the incendiaries are but at your door, demanding admittance, and it is yet within your power to say to them, that they shall not throw their burn- ing brands upon this floor, or propagate the conflagration through this Government. Before you lend yourself to their unhallowed purposes, I wish to say a word or two upon the actual condition of the Abolition question ; for I greatly fear, from what has transpired here, that it is very insufficiently understood ; and that the danger of the emergency is by no means estimated as it ought to be. God forbid that I should permit any matter of tem- porary interest or passion to enter into what I am about to tell you of the real dangers which environ us. My State has been assailed. Be it so. My peculiar principles have been denounced. I submit to it. Sarcasms, intended to be bitter, have been uttered against us. Let them pass. I will not permit myself to be disturbed by these things, or, by retorting them, throw any suspicion on the tem- per in which I solemnly warn both sections of this Union of the impending dangers, and exhort this Senate to do whatever becomes its wisdom and patriotism under the circumstances. Let us not shut our eyes, sir, on our condition. Some gentlemen have intimated that there is a purpose to get up a panic. No, no, sir. I have no such purpose. A panic on this subject is a disaster, The stake is too great to play for under a panic. In 352 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. the presence of so much danger as I solemnly oelieve exists, I would rather steady every mind to the coldest contemplation of it, than endeavor to excite my own, or the feelings of others, by adventitious stimulants. If I over-estimate the magnitude of the dangers which threaten us, it is in spite of myself, against my wishes, and after the most deliberate consideration. " Look round, then, sir, on the circumstances under which these numerous and daily increasing petitions are sent to us. They do not come, as heretofore, singly. and far apart, from the quiet routine of the Society of Friends, or the obscure vanity of some philanthropic club ; but they are sent to us in vast numbers, from soured and agitated communities, poured in upon us from the overflowing of public sentiment, which every- where, in all Western Europe and Eastern America, has been lashed into excitement on this subject. Whoever has looked at the actual condition of society, must have perceived that the public mind is not in its accustomed state of repose, but active, and stirred up, and agitated beyond all former example. The bosom of society heaves with new and violent emotions. The general pulse beats stronger and quicker than at any period since the access of the French Revolution. Public opinion labors, like the priestess on her tripod, with the prophecy of great events. In Germany, in France, and in England, there is a great movement party organized upon the spirit of the times, whose tendency is to over- turn established institutions, and remodel the organic forms of society, for whose purposes the process of ex- periment is too slow, and the action of reason too WILLIAM C. PRESTON 353 cold ; whose infuriated philanthropy goeth about seeking whom it may devour. To these ethical or political en- thusiasts the remote and unsustained institution of sla- very offers at once a cheap and fruitful subject. Ac- cordingly, it is known that the doctrinaire and juste milieu party of France, and its leading paper, the Jour- nal des Debats, conducted with much ability, is devoted to the purposes of abolitionism. The Due de Broglie, Prime Minister of France, with St. Domingo before his eyes, is president of an abolition society, having in view the manumission of the slaves in the French West Indies But the state of feeling in England has a much more direct influence upon us, and is therefore of more import- ant investigation." Mr. Preston then proceeds to speak of the state of the public mind in England, in relation to the slave question of the act of emancipation by the British Par- liament of the West India slaves, which he traces to the individual efforts of Wilberforce and Clarkson, and remarks on the morbid sensibility everywhere prevalent in relation to the African race a sensibility pervading the literature, politics, and whole organization of society, and shows, from the intimate sympathies existing be- tween England and America, how great an influence must be excited on public opinion in this country, and hence warns the Senate of the result. Passing over this and other portions of this speech, we come to the close which we give entire. Let the reader conceive, if he can, the perpetual corruscation of flashing bolts with which it fell from the impassioned orator. 354 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. " The honorable Senator, (Mr. Prentiss) with his characteristic earnestness, and with the weight commu- nicated to everything he says, by the high estimate of his worth and ability, and the known gravity of his mode of thinking, has informed us that amongst these peti- tioners are men of as much worth and patriotism as are to be found anywhere ; and the . honorable gentleman himself vindicates the petitioners by the authority of 4iis co-operation, when he declares here in his place that Congress is constitutionally endowed with the power ot manumitting the slaves in this District, and that it is ex- pedient to exercise this power. But a short time since the Legislature of the State which the gentleman repre- sents passed resolutions that the matter of slavery ought not to be agitated. Now, the Senator things it expedi- ent to #ct. His colleague, too, assures us that the pro- gress of the agitation in Vermont is greatly accelerated ; that seven societies have been recently organized in one county; and that he hears of societies springing up in quarters, remote neighborhoods, where he had supposed that abolition had scarcely been heard of. Is there no- thing in these facts ? " Five hundred societies are now organized, and in active operation, and daily increasing in numbers. Is there nothing in this? In these wide-spread associa- tions are there none but the weak and base, a noisy and impotent rabble, which will fret itself into exhaustion ? Or are they composed, as all such popular movements are, of a mixed multitude of all those whom wild enthu- siasm, mistaken piety, perverted benevolence, and blind zeal, hurry and crowd together, to swell the torrent of WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 355 public enthusiasm, when it sets strongly towards a fa- vorite object ? However humbly I may think of the wisdom of these people, I do place a high estimate upon their zeal and enterprise. We have seen what these qualities effected in England on this subject, and they are not less efficacious here. There is at this moment in New York an association of twenty -five men of wealth and high standing, who, with a spirit worthy of a better cause, have bound themselves to contribute $40,000 a year to the propagation of abolition doctrines through the press. Five of these pay $20,000 a year, and one 8,1000 a month. Such is the spirit, and such the means to sustain it. " Again, I demand, sir, do these things indicate no- thing ? The press is subsidized societies for mutual inflammation are formed men, women, and children, join in the petitions rostrums are erected itinerant lecturers pervade the land, preaching up to nightly crowds a crusade against slavery. The pulpit resounds with denunciations of the sin of slavery, and infuriate zealots unfurl the banner of the cross the standard to which the abolitionist is to rally. The cause of anti- slavery is made identical with religion, and men and women are exhorted, by all that they esteem holy, by all the high and exciting obligations of duty to man and to God, by all that can warm the heart or inflame the ima- gination, to join in the pious work of purging the sin of slavery from the land. Gentlemen have told us of the array of the reverend clergy on these petitions. In- fatuated and deluded men ! In the name of charity, they lay a scene of blood and massacre ; in the bias 356 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. phemed name of the religion of peace, they promote a civil and servile war ; they invoke Liberty to prostrate the only Government established for its preservation. But what voice can penetrate the deafness of fanaticism ? It neither hears, nor sees, nor reasons, but feels, and burns, and acts with a maniac force. " Nor are the all-exciting topics of religion the only sources from which this turbid and impetuous stream is swollen. All the sympathies of the American heart for liberty, (the word itself has a magic in it,) achieved through war and revolution, are perverted into it. When the war-cry is 'God and Liberty' when it is thundered from the pulpit, and re-echoed from the press, and caught up and shouted forth by hundreds of socie- ties, until the whole land rings with it, shall we alone not hear it, or, hearing it, lay the flattering unction to our souls that it portends nothing ? Be not deceived, I en- treat, gentlemen, in regard to the power of the causes which are operating upon the population of the non- slaveholding States. The public mind in those States has long been prepared for the most favorable reception of the influences now brought to bear upon it. It has been lying fallow for the seed which is now sown broad- cast. A deep anti-slavery feeling has always existed in the Northern and Middle States ; it is inscribed upon their statute books. Each, in succession, impelled by this feeling, has abolished slavery within its own juris- diction ; and what has been effected there, without as yet any fatal consequences, unreflecting ignorance will readily suppose may be effected everywhere under all circumstances. The spirit of propagandism is in pro- WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 357 portion to the distance of the object, and the ignorance of the propagandist. Of the whole population of those States, ninety-nine hundredths regard the institution with decided disapprobation, and scarcely a less propor- tion entertain some vague desire that it should be abolished, in some way, at some time, and believe that the time will come, and the mode be devised. They believe that slavery is bad in the abstract, and not in- curable as it exists. The remoteness of it from them- selves makes them at once more ignorant of its actual condition, and bolder in suggesting remedies. It is to such a temper of mind that the inflammatory appeals I have spoken of are addressed. " But there is still another element of power, scarcely less than either of those I have adverted to, which the incendiaries will not be slow to avail themselves of. Cast your eyes, sir, over the States where they have already gained foothold, and mark the eagerness and equality with which two great political parties are struggling for ascendency. Animated by the utmost intenseness of party spirit, and in the very height of a contest of life and death, they will be willing to snatch such arms as fury may supply, and avail themselves of such auxiliaries as chance may offer. A third party, even were it less numerous than the abolitionists, occu- pying for a time a neutral position, will of course be able to decide the controversy. Each party will dread its accession to the other, and each may, perhaps in turn, court its influence. Thus its consequence is enhanced, and, deriving strength from position, it ac- quires a new principle of augmentation, until it becomes 358 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. sufficiently powerful to absorb one or the other of the contending parties, and become itself the principal in the controversy. Then are added party spirit, political ambition, local interests ; and, with all this aggregation of strength and power, think you, sir, that abolitionism, at your next session, will pause at your door, waiting to see if it be your pleasure to ask it in ? Even now, sir, candidates for popular favor begin to feel the influence of this new power. The very fact of the reluctance which we all feel to agitate this matter here, bespeaks our fears of exasperating the strength which we instinc- tively know resides in the abolitionists. Gentlemen say we must tread softly, lest we wake the giant ; we must not breathe upon the spark, lest it burst into a blaze ; we must bow down before the coming storm until it blows over, for. fear that it will prostrate us if we stand up: and while the policy of such a course is urged, we are told there is no danger. "No gentleman will suppose that J take pleasure in indicating the cause of growth, or the present strength of the abolitionists, or would willingly exaggerate them. It is not, I confess, without the deepest apprehensions that I contemplate them ; but my chief fears arise from the supineness with which they are regarded here, on both sides of the House. We repose in a false and fatal security. I am amazed and dismayed at the view which my friends have taken of these matters. I know well that their interest is identical with mine. I know their honor and candor; and" most willingly would I indulge in their soothing hopes, if the deepest sense of the most imperious duty did not exact of me to call WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 359 upon them to awake to a sense of the danger, and be prepared to meet it with a thorough comprehension of its import ; and as a member of the Senate of the United States, I warn and exhort gentlemen to take early and decided counsel as to what is fit to be done. The occasion concerns us all, not perhaps in an equal degree, but it deeply concerns all who feel, as I do, a profound veneration for the Constitution, and an ardent love for the Union. I conjure the Senators from the non-slaveholding States to approach this subject with a steady regard and unfaltering step ; to come to the task at once, before it is too late ; to interpose all the au- thority of this Government between the incendiaries and their fatal purposes; and to pledge the moral weight of their individual characters against it. " I heartily approve the sentiments which have been generally avowed in the Senate, and appreciate the pa- triotic feelings which gentlemen have expressed in regard to the abolitionists. I have read with unfeigned pleasure, the wise communication of the Governor of ' New York to his Legislature, and am gratified to be- lieve that there is a mass of intelligence and worth in that great State, as well as in others of the Northern and Middle States, which deeply disapproves these pro- ceedings. But what I fear is, that neither here nor elsewhere is there a sufficient perception of the immi- nence of the danger, or the potency and permanency of those causes which create it. Even honorable gentle- men from the South, who have all at stake ; arf lie whose hearths, and in whose bed-chambers, the cry'^ thousands is invoking murder, in the name of God an- 360 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. liberty-:-with the example of Jamaica and St. Domingo before them, even they are not sufficiently aroused to the emergency. I entreat them to awake : I invoke gentlemen from all quarters, of all parties, to unite at once, to combine here, in the adoption of the strongest measures of which this Government is capable, and thus to enter into mutual pledges to oppose, by all possible means, and to the last extremity, the destructive and exterminating doctrines of these terrible incendiaries. Signalize your opposition by the most decided action. Stamp their nefarious propositions with unqualified reprobation. Throw the whole authority of this Gov- ernment against them. Pledge the authority of each Senator in his own State. Say to the abolitionists that this Government will in no event be made an instru- ment in your hands. Say to the South that this pes- tilential stream shall not be poured upon you through these halls. Give us the strongest measures. If you cannot adopt the proposition of my colleague, let us know what you can do. The matters before us are of the deepest consequence, and it may, perhaps, not be within the competence of this Government to effect an entire remedy of the evil. Something, however, can be done ; you may, at least, save yourselves from becoming either passively or actively accessory to the result. Erect yourselves into a barrier between the opposing sections. Save the Union if you can. " If things go much farther, you may find this no easy their :er Recent experience has, thank God, demon- ind %ted that this Government is not strong enough to ^produce disunion. Will it be strong enough to prevent WILLIAM C. PREfeTON. 361 it it proceedings go on, 'which inevitably make two peo- ple of us, warring on a question which, on the one side, involves existence, and on the other, arrays all the fury of fanaticism ? Think you, sir, that, if you have not the spirit or power to trample out the brand that is thrown amongst us, you can yet bring help when the whole land is wrapped in conflagration ? If, however, in your judgment it is not competent or expedient to act decisively, tell us so. Let us know what you can or. will do, and we will consider it, and bring to the consideration of it a candid and conciliatory temper, anxious to find safety for the Constitution in your mea- sures. Our own safety is in our own keeping. I will not more than allude to it for fear of misconstruction ; but while with the most painful emotions I have ad- verted to the dangers of our situation, while with the most profound solicitude I entreat the Senate to guard against them, I know that the South has the power and the will to vindicate its rights and protect itself. Even if it were destitute of the high spirit which characterizes it, if it were without the resources which abound there, it would be forced into a position of self-defence by the inexorable necessities of self-preservation. The South has drawn deep lessons of instruction from the colonial history of France and England. St. Domingo and Jamaica were colonies subject to the dominion of a for- eign power, and perished because they were colonies. Their disastrous history is not recorded in vain. I will not pursue this topic. I am here a member of the Senate of the United States, impressed with a sense of my federal duties, and in discharge of them, have felt 16 362 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. myself compelled to state my conception of the perilous circumstances in which ws are, because I fear there is a fatal misconception in regard to them. It is possible, sir* that I may have conceived them too strongly. I wish it may turn out so. It is erring on the safe side to magnify the strength of the enemy, if you intend to encounter him with fortitude and just preparation. Many friends near me see nothing on the horizon but a floating cloud, which the summer breeze will drive away. I see, or think I see, the gathering of a tempest surcharged with all the elements of devastation. If they be right, it is happy for us all ; but if they be wrong, and I right, and the blessed moments of pre- paration are thrown away until the storm bursts, they incur an awful responsibility." The happy versatility of which Mr. Preston is capa- ble in public speech, is indicated by the following extract from the account given of the famous Whig Conven- tion, held in Baltimore on the first week of May, 1840 : " The Hon. Wm. C. Preston, the eloquent and dis- tinguished Senator from South Carolina, next responded to the call of the Convention. ' This/ said he, ' is the happiest day of my life. I see here the consumma- tion of almost all that I had hoped for from the earliest day I entered public life. I hate tyranny, and from my infancy was taught to despise a Tory. I was born a Whig, and am yet a Whig. The Whigs have met here,' continued Mr. Preston, ' to bring peace and prosperity to the land, and I take pleasure in expressing the belief that the man of their choice will maintain and consoli- WILLIAM C. PRESTON. date the great national institutions and enterprises of the country.' Continuing his remarks, "Mr. Preston alluded to the self-denying, magnanimous, and patriotic conduct of Henry Clay. The eulogium was the most eloquent we have heard, and the audience heard it with interest and delight, Returning to Gen- eral Harrison, he said, 'I will devote to him my labor, my thoughts, my person, and my purse. I regard the Ohio farmer as a true and devoted patriot, and I would the news of this day's meeting could be borne to him upon the wings of the wind.' " Mr. Preston, in concluding his remarks, said, he was a Southern man, and happily in connection with this subject did he allude to the recent demonstration of opinion from the 'Old Dominion.' Harrison, too, he was proud to say, was a Virginian born, and a son of a signer of the Declaration of Independence. He sprung, too, from the best of the Anglo-Saxon blood. He was a (descendant of that Harrison who, in the'reign of the tyrant Charles, said that, ' as he was a tyrant, I slew him.' Who, said Mr. Preston, can boast of better blood in his veins than this descendant of the king-de- stroying, despot-killing, tyrant-hating Harrison ? "Mr. Preston, in a manner peculiar to himself, after exhorting the Whigs to use their anticipated triumph as not abusing it, left the grave a moment for the gay. Alas, poor Democrats, farewell, dear Loco Focos ! you have had your day. Every dog has his day ! It is necessary, Mr. Van Buren, that you should go for dimin- ished wages, and the country says you shall go for diminished wages ! Again, Mr. Preston drew a happy 364 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. picture of the 4th of March, 1841. He supposed that prince of Democrats, Martin Van Buren, to be here in his coach and four horses. Following him comes Amos Kendall, and succeeding him, Levi Woodbury with his empty bags, and still behind these worthies the head of the war department, Mr. Poinsett, the author of the system for two hundred thousand militia, and thirty- four bloodhounds. I see them now, said Mr. Preston, in my mind's eye. They come from Washington are seen at Fell's Point, now at Canton and some one says to the party there is the race course where met the National Convention in May last. " Again, Mr. Preston changed his manner, and in a burst of eloquence which electrified his hearers, ex- horted them to go into the possession of the adminis- tration of the public affairs with clean hands and honest hearts ; and first of all to proscribe the system of pro- scription which had dishonored the country. Let us wash the ermine and purify the seats of government. Mr. Preston also made a happy allusion to Cincinnatus the ploughman, citizen, and general. In many respects Harrison was like him, but the spectacle of selecting the humble American citizen to rule over the nation was of the moral sublime, and far eclipsed anything in Grecian or Roman history, " In General Harrison, said Mr. Preston, in conclusion, I believe in after time we may be able to say, that the country has a second Washington in the second Harri- son. When this day comes, and God speed the time, for one I will be content rest satisfied leave the field of labor, and say like one of oH ' Now, Lord, lettest WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 305 thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy glory.' " On January 13th, 1841, Mr. Preston delivered in the Senate his famous speech on the Pre-emption Bill. That effort was in a more subdued tone than is usual with him, and presented a vast amount of statistical informa- tion. The following continuous passage, taken from the main body of the speech, will best exemplify his most substantial manner in the forum. Having submitted a long array of numerical facts to substantiate foregoing positions, he proceeds to say : " This account does not include the heavy disburse- ments for Indian wars, which, swelled by the recent enormous expenses in Florida, may be safely set down at forty millions of dollars. With this very large bal- ance standing against the land yet in possession of the United States, if the calculation of the value of that residue made by the Senator from South Carolina be cor- rect, the whole will not reimburse us, much less the 65 per cent, which he proposes to reserve. And thus we shall have squandered not only what Virginia and the other States gave us, but also a large sum of money contributed by the old States in the form of taxes upon their citizens before the States now proposed to be bene- fitted were in existence. In this most obvious view of the case, we give out of the treasury, to a few favored States, 35 per cent, of many millions of dollars collect- ed from the other States. By this operation, Virginia will not only have given her lands, but her money also She will have transferred her property, and paid a sum to those who take it. The quantity of land proposed 166 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. to be surrendered by this act of cession is, according to the report of the select committee, one hundred and fifty-four millions of acres, lying in various portions of the nine selected States. Thirty-five per cent, upon this quantity is upwards of fifty millions of acres, certainly a munificent donation. The average annual income from the sale of public lands for the last twenty years is about five millions of dollars. Assuming this ratio, the annual grant in money to these nine States is more than a million and a half of dollars. It is equal to the civil lists of those States. It is the assumption of the public debts of those States. It is the distribution of the whole nett proceeds of the public lands amongst nine States. " It seems to me that the mode of calculation by which the mover of this amendment brings down the value oi the public lands is erroneous ; but, whatever that value may be, we have no power to cast it away. One thing is certain, that the sales yield an income of five millions, and that, in all human probability, they will continue to do so for the next thirty years. Their value for a sum in hand, therefore, is correctly estimated by a very ob- vious process. The annual receipts should cover the annual interest, and provide a sinking fund for the capi- tal. By this mode of calculation, then, allowing the in- come from the public lands to terminate at the end of thirty years, the present value in hand would be upwards of fifty millions ; and the proposition thus re- duced results in a donation, in presenti, of seventeen millions of dollars to the nine States. The eagerness manifested by the Senators representing those States is WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 36T natural. There is a grandeur in this munificence which subdues the imagination, and casts into shade the vast donation of Virginia differing from that, too, in this : that, whereas Virginia gave to all the States, herself in- cluded, this proposition gives to one-third of the States, containing less than one-sixth of the population. " That the average of the last twenty years is a just, or at least a sufficiently low, criterion of the proceeds of the public lands for the future, will be apparent from the consideration of the great increase of the population, which furnishes the demand for new lands. The Uni- ted States now contain 18,000,000 of inhabitants, an 'in- crease at the rate of about 700,000 a year. The de- mand for new settlements will increase in a correspond- ing ratio with the population. It may be safely put down as- increasing at the rate of four per cent. Expe- rience, heretofore, has shown that the rate of purchase does not diminish, as the land has been picked and culled; but on the contrary, those lands which have been longest in market are most freely sold, in pro- portion to the quantity in market. Thus, lands are more rapidly taken up in Ohio, than in Arkansas, for the obvious reason that a dense population makes inferior land more valuable in the midst of it, than more fertile districts in an uninhabited country. There is but a million of acres of United States land now remaining unsold in Ohio, and even this is diminishing with an ac- celerated ratio. It therefore may be well assumed that from this source the United States may enjoy a revenue of five millions, until very much the largest portion of the domain within the nine States is disposed of, and 368 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. long before that period Florida, Iowa, and Wisconsin will have brought their contributions to the general fund, and extended ^jie period .^f^this, income to future gene- rations. R^asoningjpon data known to be correct, in ^ thirty years from this .time the demand foryould be a violation of the original cession,' jand/of the Constitution, as the advocates of this measure Contend It is to be ceded to the States, not in propor- tfpti to. tneir contriWition^ 1o the public burdens, or in "pi$>porti'on 1p thir size Of population, but.'simply as ^Stales. . And'what will be the result, as between one of *lhe 'States and another ? Ohio exceeds Missouri in pop- ulation four to one; and how does this amendment pro- WILLIAM :. PRESTON. 369 pose to distribute the public lands between these two States ? The share of Missouri is to the share of Ohio as more than twenty-eight to one, making the popula- tion of Missouri receive over the population of Ohio more than one hundred to one. Can Ohio stand by and see the public domain given away in this proportion ? Nor is this all ; for the one million of acres which Ohio gets, is of lands which have been in market for more than forty years, and have been picked and culled during all that time, while the thirty millions which are given to Missouri consist of fresh and fertile lands but recently surveyed. Now let me ask, what will Virginia get? She contributes to the public burdens six times as much as Missouri. Missouri is to get thirty-five per cent, of thirty millions. How much does Virginia get ? No- thing ! This is not thirty millions to one ; it is thirty millions to nothing. Besides, Ohio has now passed her chrysalis condition. She has now become one of the old States of the Union. A million of acres is nothing to her. But this amendment gives her her dividend but of one million of old and refuse land, while it gives Missouri her dividend of thirty millions of new land of the very best quality. " Let us now look a little at the operation of this scheme in its details. I have here the report of the learned Com- mittee on Public Lands, made at the last session, stating the quantity of public lands within the various States. Ohio, it appears, contains one million of acres of sec- ond, third, and fourth-rate lands, while Arkansas has forty-three millions of acres. [Mr. Sevier, across Yes, and it is rich]. 16* 370 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. " Yes, Arkansas is rich ; and this is one of the schemes to make the rich richer, and the poor poorer. Arkansas has forty-three times as much of the public land as Ohio ; at the same time Ohio has a million and a half of inhab- itants, while Arkansas has one hundred thousand. Thus, one hundred thousand people are to be benefited at the rate of forty-three millions of acres of land rich land, as the Senator tells us while a million and a half of people in another State "are benefitted at the rate of one million of refuse land. Arkansas is to get two hundred and fifteen acres to each inhabitant, and Ohio one-third of one acre ! being a difference of six hundred and forty-five in favor of Arkansas. Each inhabitant of Arkansas, therefore, will get six hundred and forty-five times as much as each inhabitant of Ohio. And so of the rest. Michigan has thirty-one millions of acres to Ohio's one million. Yet she has less than one hundred thousand inhabitants. The proportions are enormous. The original cession said that the avails of the public domain were to be shared among the States according to their several portions of the general charge and ex- penditure. Yet, here an inhabitant of Arkansas is to get six hundred and forty-five times as much as an inhabitant of Ohio ; or, if you regard the two as States, one gets forty-three times as much as the other. But it does not stop here. New States of the Union are selected as beneficiaries : are they, then, to be con- fined to the avails of the land they receive ? Not at all : after receiving that, they are then to come in and be common sharers with the rest of the States. We are to give them all their own lands, and a portion in ours WILLIAM C. PttESTON. 371 besides! Virginia is to get one twenty-sixth part of one-half of these lands, and Arkansas, after having got her own thirty-one millions, is to share this one twenty- sixth part with Virginia. I should really hope, if the land must be given away, it will be at some rate more reasonable than this. The entire quantity of lands remaining unsold within the States enumerated in the Senator's amendment is 154,000,000 acres : one-half of this will be 77,000,000, one-third is 50,000,000. And the bill gives these 50,000,000 to nine States, the other States to get no portion of it. " I could run out this illustration yet further : but I refrain. Ex pede, Herculem. These are sufficient. These are to me striking views, but they are not the considerations which weigh most heavily upon my mind, and which I should be most glad to see removed if this amendment is to be adopted, and is ever to be- come a law. In arguing this whole question I feel the difficulty of our situation as arguing against the wishes and expectations of those who are to receive the benefit. The nine States who are to get this magnificent dona- tion have eighteen Senators among those whom I am addressing, who have, of course, a more direct interest in the adoption of the amendment than any of the rest of us. This, of itself, presents a powerful motive to secure their support to the measure : and this fact alone ought to make us pause before we hastily adopt the plan. The benefit to be granted is not common to us all, but peculiar to them it is exclusive as to us. They are to be benefited : we are to be injured. In alluding to the strength of the motive here presented as likely to 372 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. band together eighteen Senators in support of this scheme, I mean to make no personal or offensive refer- ence to those Senators : it is a motive likely to act on all men placed in their circumstances. They desire, very naturally, and very properly, to benefit their con- stituents ; and, under the pressure of that desire, with such an opportunity for its gratification, the understand- ing even of the strongest is very likely to be warped in its conclusions, -and seduced to believe that the measure is perfectly just and proper. We must entreat gentle- men so situated, as I do now entreat them, to raise their views from the immediate interest of their constituents, in such a cession as is now proposed, to a just adminis- tration of the sacred trust which has been confided to them for the benefit of the entire Union. Is it right is it just is it generous to find their own peculiar interest in our loss and sacrifice ? I throw myself upon them, that they will consider this subject in an enlarged point of view. Especially do I wish Ohio to do this, who is passing out of her state of minority and becom- ing of ripe age. Will Ohio consent thus to squander our common patrimony ? I put it to Indiana, who is soon about to become the third State in this Union : and I ask her whether, to promote a transient interest to-day, she will be willing to sacrifice the permanent and abiding interest of to-morrow? and whether she will lend herself to the delusion that it is just to deprive the old States of the inheritance they have received from our ancestors ? "The amendment will produce a state of things 1 earnestly deprecate. In the administration of this <*n- WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 373 main something is due to our past experience. We all remember the large amount of debt which was once ac- cumulated under the credit system of sale of the public lands ; you remember that the debtors declared that they could not pay, and would not. The very same spirit which prompts men to take the land without a legal right prompts them to stand out for the money they ought to pay for it. Circumstances made it difficult, perhaps impossible, for them to pay ; and I well recollect the terror with which the politicians of that day looked to the results of such a state of things. I remember with what anxiety, not to say terror, Mr. Monroe con- templated a debt of nineteen millions owed by one sec- tion of the Union. Congress looked with dismay at the mass of debt due from settlers on the Lower Missis- sippi ; and in contemplation of the mischievous effects arising from the credit system, in relation to the public lands, you determined to alter your terms of sale ; and it was wisely decided to sell, in future, for cash alone. But if a scattered debt, due from individuals, be an evil of so dangerous a character as to excite their terrors, how fearful will it become when this debt, instead of be- ing dispersed among a number of individual settlers, is consolidated inta one mass, and owed by a section which has already, from time to time, made claim to an inde- feasible title in all this land ! Can you collect it ? You cannot drive your debtors from the land. Will you call out the force of the country send your army sell the land under them, and take possession of it for the United States ? It cannot be done. To individuals, in such a case, you can afford to yield, and make a com 374 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. promise ; but how will you stand when you have made States your debtors ? The amendment establishes the relation of debtor and creditor between this Government and entire States with neighboring, with contiguous States with a mass of States, all having one common interest in the question, one common character, and one common debt. Do you expect from a debtor like this to collect your debt by any process ? The thought is idle. I estimate the honor and fidelity of the States as much as any man ; but what have we heard for the last few years, from the other side of the Senate, but wild denunciations of State extravagance State profli- gacy and the dear, blessed people to be taxed to pay State debts ? Suppose there comes a short crop, or an Indian war, or any other of the like contingencies, would it not be urged as an excuse for not paying the State debt? And would you venture, under such circum- stances, to call upon them for your money ? You dare not. Gentlemen have told you, in one breath, that you cannot protect your land from the squatters either by your tipstaves or by soldiers ; and in the very next breath they say you can force whole States to comply with their contracts by the power of the judiciary ! Your army cannot remove a handful of individuals, and yet you are going to drive the States by your judiciary ! You cannot turn off a poor squatter, who has no sort of title, or evidence or pretence of title ; and yet you are, by the most nugatory provisions of this bill, to oust a citizen of a State, having a deed from the State in his pocket, and the whole State power interposed between him and you ! If a State shall declare that they will not pay you, do WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 375 you expect that individuals of that State will ? God forbid that 1 should ever see the day when this comes to be tried, or that I should contribute to the possibility of superinducing it. You place the man between two fires. The State tells him to hold his land ; the General Government orders him to give it up. He is to be hung by the State if he disobeys the State Government ; and if he obeys the State, then he is to be hung by the General Government ! You never can enforce your contract; the judiciary is utterly incapable of it. The remedy which the amendment provides for the case is utterly inefficient. It is, that, if the States refuse to pay, then the deeds made by the States to individuals shall be vacated. Pshaw! Why, as I have said, with no deed at all, the settlers have stood out against you, and you have been forced to yield, over and over again ; think you that, with a State deed to show, and the State authority to shield them, they are going to march offtheir farms at the bidding of your marshall ? He would be a bold man who would carry a process there. I say, then, that there is great danger in your establishing the pecu- niary relation of debtor and creditor with the States. If they cannot pay, what will you do ? They will resist in masses. They have eighteen Senators on this floor ; and it is already their boast that in ten years from this time they will hold the balance of power, and that they will take the land upon their own terms. The remedy proposed by the amendment is altogether fallacious. It proposes to divert a vested right, and to drive a man from lands that he has bought and paid for." One of the very latest and most finished productions * yE&x 376 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. given to the public by Mr. Preston, was the eulogy he pronounced upon his early associate, literary rival, and political friend, Hugh S. Legare. The following brief extract, it is believed, applies to the eulogist as well as to his friend : " He mainly devoted himself to the departments of classical literature and philosophy ; and he zealously en- gaged in the discussions of the debating societies, to practice himself in the art of speaking. These studies were a passion with him. His attention to the exact sciences, however, seemed to be stimulated rather by an ambition of excellence and a sense of duty. His re- citations in mathematics, chemistry, and natural philo- sophy were always good equal to the best in his class- but his heart was in the classics. There he was not only learning, but feasting. He was not only making stages on a journey, butJured on from height to height, enraptured with the glowing scene, until all the glorious creations of Greek and Roman genius lay like a land- scape beneath him." Further on, he describes the career prosecuted by Mr. Legare after he left college : "He did not fall into the fatal error of supposing that the college course completed his education, or that the distinction acquired by it entitled him to repose or indolence. He had learned enough no inconsiderable knowledge to know his ignorance, and did not believe that he had even laid a foundation, but had merely been collecting materials for an education. He left the col- lege, therefore, for the deeper seclusion of his own libra- ry, and entering on the study of law, rather added to WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 377 than changed his former labors. The study of his pro- fession was the base line of very multifarious reading, and was in the beginning, and for many years after-* wards, regarded as subsidiary to other objects requiring also other attainments." Having mentioned the fact that his lamented friend went to Paris in 1818, Mr. Preston proceeds to describe his occupations there, and the facilities he found for cultivating his most genial tastes : "The most attractive objects to him, were the galle- ries of fine arts and the theatres. The former, some- what shorn of their beams, in 1818, were yet glorious with the rich, though diminished spoils of Italy and Hol- land. His cultivated imagination found the counterparts of its images on the canvas or in marble : and while they filled him with delight, furnished him with more exalted, and at the same time with more definite, conceptions of grace, beauty, and sublimity. The theatres were then in the highest state of perfection, and Mr. Legare, being well acquainted with the French drama as a literature studied and enjoyed its representations on the stage with intense delight. Talma and Duchenois had brought tragic acting to perfection, and Mars was inimi- table in polite comedy. To Mr. Legare, their represent- ations was not only amusement, but a study. The thea- tre was. to him what it was when Bolingbroke ap- plauded a play of Addison, or Johnson the acting of Garrick." These quotations are not only good' specimens of Mr. Preston's narrative style, but, the last one in par- ticular they are very significant of the author's own 378 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. mental predilections and most genial habitudes. He, too, was an early proficient and ardent votary in the classics, sojourned sometime in Europe, everywhere cultivated literary enthusiasm, studied all the elegant arts with fervid zeal, and was a passionate admirer of the drama. He has just told us about his friend's fond- ness for tragedy ; and what he immediately adds thereto looks even more like a description of his own temperament and taste than those of Legare. Of the latter he says : " It was, however, illustrative of a trait in his character, that he frequently sought and enjoyed the rich farce of Potier, or the naivete and idiomatic finesse of the vaudeville for although his general demeanor was grave, and sometimes even aus- tere, yet there was a vein of fun running through his character ; with a keen perception of the ludicrous, which not unfrequently manifested itself in the presence of his intimate friends. At such moments his joyous- ness, his entire abandon, and the rich play of a riotous imagination over the vast field of his varied associa- tions, afforded an amusing and not unpleasing contrast with his habitual reserve." There is a graceful, negligent, though animated, air about Mr. Preston's mode of public address which is exceedingly captivating. His language "thrills in each nerve, and lives along the line," with pre-eminent beauty and force. There is an exuberance of thought and imagery throughout his productions, and a copious ex- penditure of both, which seems as fearless of exhaus- tion, as it is prolific of delight. The reader in a good degree, and the hearer much more, feels that either him- WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 379 self or the magician before him had "eaten of the insane root that takes the reason prisoner," such strange elevations of spirit are produced, alternately glowing and shivering through the bosom. This result is pro- duced in a great degree by the extraordinary dramatic power in this orator. Deep emotion, pervading the whole form of an impassioned speaker, and investing him as with preternatural light, often has the most strikingly beautifying effect. Thus Baron de Grimm says of the great French actor Le Kain, that, off the stage, he was more than usually ugly, with coarse, unpleasing fea- tures, a heavy, unwieldy form, a hoarse and disagree- able voice, and manners entirely destitute of elegance. But on the stage, and really excited, so as to be wholly absorbed in his part, he was indeed a hero, a king, with features the most noble, or the most touching, a mein the most imposing and the most graceful, a voice the most tenderly pathetic, and that rare combination of irresistible perfections, which often drew from women who were convinced of his ugliness, involuntary excla- mations upon his beauty. Witness the Marquise de Pompadour, who, an hour after she found him frightful in a gallery of the Palace of Versailles, exclaimed, on seeing him appear upon the stage under the turban of Orasman : "Great God! how handsome this man is! how sublime! how admirable !" But this kind of effect was produced,, as is always the case, by real feeling, and not by mere mouthing or mawkish affectation. La Harpe testifies that " the play of Le Kain's features was not owing merely to the action of his muscles ; it arose from the agitation of a 380 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. soul moved to its very depths, yet revealing but a part of its torture, repressing far more than it displayed on the surface. His cries and his tears were the result of real sufferings ; the gloomy, fearful fire of his glances, the stamp of grandeur impressed upon his brow, the fright- ful contraction of his muscles, the tremor of his lips, and the wild disorder of his features, all testified to a heart full to overflowing a heart impatient of restraint impatient to pour forth its griefs, which, when re- vealed, found no relief. We heard the echo of the inward storm, and we felt that the unhappy man, like the ancient priestess, was crushed by the divinity which had descended upon his bosom. It is necessary, therefore, to have seen the effect that he produced, in order t6 imagine it and to credit it. One could never conceive that profound terror, that appalling sHence, interrupted at times by the accents of grief, which re- sponded to those of the actor, by the sobs which testi- fied to the agitation of every heart, by the tears which had need to flow, to relieve the suffocated bosom. What a moment ! What a spectacle ! From the weep- ing that was heard on every side of the house, from the multiplied signs of general desolation, one would have thought that he beheld a people who had just been smitten with some great calamity." To be coarse is a vulgar error ; but to be mono- tonous, is a no less fatal fault. Everything strongly marked in eloquent speech, good or bad, is the sponta- neous product of its author his genius, his energy, his character. Those who are the most elaborately uni- / brm are far from being the most effective. It is those WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 381 that strue by their natural inequalities, their character- istic individuality, and whose faults and excellencies keep up perpetual expectation, who produce the greatest influence. The speaking of some men appears to be faultless, and this is all that is ever said about them. They are never approved or condemned earnestly, be- cause in character they are intrinsically tame. But other men agitate and almost convulse the public mind by contrary extremes ; and these, because they are full of character, produce much fierce discussion as to their merits, while by all parties they continue to be listened to with delight. It has been questioned whether Ra- phael would have acquired so great a name, if his coloring had been equal to his drawing or expression. As it is, " his figures stand out like a rock, severed from its base : while Correggio's are lost in their own beauty and sweetness." Whatever has not a mixture of strong contrasts, amounting often to manifest imperfection, in it, soon grows insipid, or seems "stupidly good." It is impossible to hide nature in artificial robes, and thus manufacture a lay figure which will command the sympathy and raptures of mankind. The great desideratum is, to impress character on whatever one attempts in speech. It is not coldly to recite sen- timent, but earnestly to act it. He who can best do this, exemplifies most agreeably an intellectual style. Listening to them we are carried along so delightfully with the deep and powerful current of their naturalness, that, like Partridge in Tom Jones, when he saw Gar- rick personate Hamlet, all seems so spontaneous, so completely without effort, that we feel sure, there is 382 LrVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. neither artifice nor mystery, extraordinary power nor genius, in the whole matter. The elder Kean was mighty, because he was his own great original, with aii his errors and excellencies " not the copyist of any other not the pupil of a school not a mannerist, but an actor who found all his resources in nature, who delineated his passions' only from the expression that the soul gives to the voice and features of man not from the images that have before him been represented on the stage. It is from the wonderful truth, energy, and force with which he strikes out, and presents to the eye this natural working of the passions of the human frame, that he excites the emotions, and engages the sympathy of his spectators and auditors." To those who know Mr. Preston, are familiar with his mental tastes, style of thought, and manner of ex- pression, the propriety of these dramatic allusions will be seen at once. Not that our accomplished and elo- quent countryman is a mere mannerist in any sense. We have adduced copious proofs of his admirable ver- satility in composition, and all the world knows that he can most skillfully adapt his elocution to every form and shade of thought. The Tatler says there was a man in his day who could play nothing but the Apothecary in Romeo and Juliet. He succeeded so well in this, that he grew fat upon it, when he was set aside ; and having then nothing to do, pined away till he became qualified for his part again, and had another run in it. But Mr. Preston is not thus dependent upon any one occupation or style. Whenever he is roused, on whatever theme 01- occasion, there is a gre*at deal of stage effect in his WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 883 figure, voice, and general bearing, but it seems little in- debted to study. He was unmistakably created to pro- duce great oratorical effects. His claim to admiration is in his boiling blood and flashing brain the generous ardor of his temperament, and his brilliant mental power. He is undoubtedly the Roscius of the Ameri can forum, but he is equally great in many othei spheres. He is by nature and habit gorgeously armed with the splendid excellence of passionate vigor ; but he is none the less potent and attractive in the quiet shades of literary research and domestic joy. We have presented a variety of written samples, showing the diversified features of Mr. Preston's mind as a cultivated statesman ; and have stated what we believe to be his predominant quality of temperament and general style. It remains now definitely to portray the characteristics of his extraordinary eloquence. We have said that his manner is highly dramatic ; and this is true, because it habitually embodies and exempli- fies deep human devotion by feature, form, and action. In the first place, the expression, physical and mental, as exhibited by Mr. Preston, is remarkable. Some orators, like Rembrandt, possess the full empire of light and shade, and of all the tints that float between them ; they can tinge their pencil with equal success in the cool of dawn, in the noon-day ray, in the livid flash, in evanes- cent twilight, and render darkness visible, if they like. Such masters are men inspired, be their sphere of devel- opment and creative power what it may. To them nature discloses all the varied light of rising, meridian, and setting suns. Height, depth, solitude, convulsion, 384 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. strike, terrify, absorb, or bewilder them by turns, and under the action of these diversified views and emo- tions, they cause us to see what they see, feel as they feel, and traverse mournfully or joyously with them through classic, romantic, or sacred regions. The se- date, the severe, the solemn, the gay, the pleasing, the placid, the awful, and the sublime, are depicted by turns ; each touch in harmony with the subject, and all invested with the greatest propriety and force. Of this stamp is William C. Preston. He can speak the world's one tongue, in tone, feature, and action, with simulta- neous and irresistible effect that language which, when- ever and wherever it is truly expressed, always " trem- bles towards the inner founts of feeling," and produces the most pleasing as well as most potent results. "With gleaming plumes, that might o'ercome an air of ada- mantine denseness, pranked with fire," his appearance before an audience is the signal for universal admira- tion and profound respect. He possesses in full measure that "winged power" which Pindar praises in Homer, and which whirls incident on incident with such rapid- ity, that, absorbed by the whole, we are drawn from the imperfection of single parts, and are enthralled as. by the fantasies of a vision. This orator commands within his own bosom the source of deep pathos, as well as the more fiery foun- tains of passion and pungent wit. In this versatility lies the secret of his greatest powdr. He who can best delineate the suffering side of human nature can like- wise represent the gay side ; because he who can attain the greater has already reached the less. Mr. Preston WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 385 is an admirable painter of the florid school ; but, perhaps, is not so expert in severe reasoning and analytical thought. He can defend any favorite system with the flowers of rhetoric much more effectively than with the inflexible and inodorous weapons of syllogistic form. Without injustice, it is believed, we may apply to him the critical judgment which Broussais pronounced before the Institute of France, on the historian Mignet, wherein he sums up the character of that extraordinary man as follows: "His mind, which was quick, penetrating, strong, and creative, was deficient in the essential of rigor ; he did not always propound his problems well, and often contented himself with imperfect solutions, be- cause he observed shrewdly, but concluded hastily. To inquire and believe, to affirm and contend, were with him necessities ; he knew not what it was either to doubt or to hesitate. Thence arose at once his imperfections, his talent, his power, his success ; he thence derived a style beautifully animated and free, glowing, copious, unequal, vigorous ; he thence drew the inspiration of those works which interested not only as the expo- sition of his ideas, but as the echo of his feelings, for he threw into them both his views and himself." Not that our gifted countryman is incapable of severe argu- ment, but he superabounds in other qualities which, if they are less rigid, are often more captivating. He knows himself, and can make his audience deliciously comprehend the poet's meaning when he exclaims " How sweet to feel the sun upon the heart ! To know it is lighting up the rosy blood, 17 386 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. And with all joyous feelings, prison-hued, Making the dark breast shine like a spar grot." Again, the form which Mr. Preston's eloquence in- stinctively assumes is as remarkable as its expression, and contributes much to its peculiar force. As has been already estimated, his style is beautiful, graceful, exuberant, and sometimes undefined. When one's fancy borders on phrensy, he will be most likely to de- spise the drudgery of minute detail. His reasoning is less composed by laborious skill than grouped by in- stinctive emotion ; this teaches him at once to grasp his subject, stamp his character, and arrange its costume. He does not, like Calhoun, draw from the resources of matchless dialectics ; but he pours forth without stint the effusions of a glowing and resolute sensibility. His speech, " looking as woven in a loom of light," unlike the frigid and opaque products of pedantic cloisters, is lucid to the eye and genial to the heart. For this rea- son is he heard on popular occasions with much more interest than are those who are colder and more method- ized. He has read enough in every department of science, literature, art, and morals, to be habitually in- structive, and is especially distinguished for the ability to express what he does know in language at once clear, fervid, and emphatic. The depth of his emotion, and the violence of his mental action, permeating and im- pelling his physical powers, are expressed in a glowing eloquence, well calculated to enrapture men, and win extended popularity. It is a style which combines many attractive qualities. The mirror of feeling and generosity, it is the translucent organ of . imagination ***' r WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 387 and reason, political philosophy, and impassioned poetry. Its common aim and chief success consists in the deline- ation of emotion ; but it also possesses a good deal of artistic precision atid intellectual force. In dealing with familiar topics, he often gives much clearness, regularity/ and power to his expressions. Hence it is that " He rules, like a wizard, the world of the heart, To call up its sunshine, or draw down its showers." When imagination predominates in a speaker, we should expect to find in him much contrast and display, apparently artificial exuberance, and melo dramatic com- binations. Mr. Preston sometimes appears to strain too much after effect ; this, however, is produced more by nature than affectation, since persons of his stamp, more than they themselves are usually aware, have their reason a good deal enthralled by imagination and the passions. The native warmth of our orator tinges all his words in the higher forms of speech, " like gold-hued cloud-flakes on the rosy morn." Instead of congealing his eloquence through arbitrary combinations, he imbues it with the fire of a soul naturally acute and invincibly free. He abounds in that emotion which instantly be- comes conviction in the masses ; and is persuasive, because his spirit, sensitive and versatile, bears always in its accent the true impression of the moment, and the distinct expression of his actual design. In his gentler mood and ethereal musing, he resembles, " That snow-like fall of feeling which overspreads The bosom of the youthful maiden's mind, More pure and fair than even its outward type." 388 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. That is the most powerful speech which in the direct- est manner addresses all our perceptions, not only by arguments which we are bound to hear, but through that higher language of the heart to which it is bliss to listen. It is this that chains the feelings and the imagina- tion, convinces while it exhilarates, and holds us enthrall- ed for a season in spite of ourselves, that thereby it may more effectually exalt our conceptions and ennoble their worth. It is the sentiments of a discourse that should claim our chief solicitude, and not its language or form, the work and not the instrument, as " 'twas not by words Apelles charm'd mankind." Eloquence is a central glory, a blazing focus, around which all the rays of knowledge, experience, and science, all the ideal as well as all the practical of our nature, arrange themselves in one harmonious whole to irradiate and adorn every kingdom of mind. But this grand principle of mental unity in oratorical efforts by no means excludes variety, it rather impe- riously demands it. For example, of all writers that ever lived, Homer, in his epic, impresses one particular idea the generic one of war. But in doing this, his heroes and heroines are delineated by the most con- trasted and striking individualities of character. Aga- memnon and Achilles, Thersites and Ulysses, Diomed and Nestor, Helen and Andromache, are most widely different in tone, form, and style. The efficient ora- tor must have wisdom, therefore, and if it is imbued with practical flexibility, he cannot have too much of it ; since he will be able to appreciate and produce the per- fect, only so far as he is qualified to discern and avoid WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 389 the defective. Rhetorical artificialness is an appearance, but eloquence is a substance ; the former bears the same relation to the latter, that a skeleton does to a living man. Only as the orator penetrates into the depths of his own soul, will he be able to take the accurate measure and truthful hues of appropriate materials, and thus give to his productions an import and symmetry that seem at once natural and supernatural. He appropriates to his use whatever in the universe around him is most signifi- cant, pertinent, and interesting ; and having constructed an organic whole of the richest matter and most grace- ful form, he breathes into it the highest value, even the breath of life. To aspire constantly after the truly na- tural, is to soar to the highest pinnacle of worth ; but to be content with the mere appearance of naturalness is to sink to the lowest depth. Not only must there be knowledge founded on theory and matured by practice, a mass of select and well-digested materials, perspicuity of method and fluency of utterance, but there must also be imagination to place these things in bold and brilliant points of view, presence of mind, conscious vigor, and daring resolution. Dry reason is rendered but the more repulsive by an alliance with a cloudy, formless, . and nerveless fancy ; but vivid and creative imagination is an auxiliary of the greatest beauty and use : the first being the torpid chrysalis, the latter the butterfly set free on unwearied wings to soar in flowery fields, on lofty hills, or through azure heavens. " Hence, all-majestic on th' expanding soul, In copious tide, the bright ideas roll: 390 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. Fill it with radiant forms unknown before, Forms such as demigods and heroes wore." We have spoken of the expressive features and pecu- liar form of Mr. Preston's eloquence, and shall conclude our portraiture of him by a notice of his remarkable action. Says an English writer, " There are two aspects in which language may be viewed as a medium of com- municating admiration, wisdom, delight, to others ; one would be speech. Then how astonishing to think that you can stand in the centre of a mighty congrega- tion of learned or ignorant, thoughtful or reckless men all the elements of the understanding cast together in tumultuous disorder and knock at every one of their minds in succession. Think how this has been done, by Demosthenes, waving the multitude into repose from his mound of turf, on some Grecian hill-side ; by Plato subduing the souls of them who listened to him undei the boughs of a dim plane ; by Cicero, in the stern si- lence of the forum ; by our own Chatham, in the chapel of St. Stephen. Think how each and all not only knocked, but entered ; wandered over the hearts of their hearers ; traced the. secret and winding circuits of feeling ; roused the passions in their darkest recesses of concealment, knocking, entering, searching. This was much, but they did more. In every heart they set up a throne ; they gave laws; they wielded over it the sceptre of intellectual royalty. Thus the Athenian crowd start up with one accord and one cry to march against Philip ; and the Senate throbs with the convul- sie agony of indignant patriotism, rushing upon Cata- WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 391 line ; and the vast assembly of genius and power in our own parliament is dissolved for a season as hap- pened after an address of Sheridan that it might re- cover from the benumbing wand of the enchanter. And this is the working of language under the aspect of speech. " But it is in the second shape of language, that of literature, in which the most wonderful faculty resides. The power of persuasion is mighty, but perishable ; its life, for the most part, passes with the life of the speaker. It darkens with his eye ; it stiffens with his hand ; it freezes with his tongue. The swords of these cham- pions of eloquence are buried with them in the grave. Where is the splendid declamation of Bolingbroke? Vanished as completely as the image of his own form from the grass-plots of Twickenham ! But in that speech, which is created by the printing-press into lite- rature, dwells a principle never to be quenched. Lite- , rature is the immortality of speech. -Here, however, as under the former aspect, the medium of communication effects, in the strongest manner, the object conveyed. Hence it has been ever found, that those books are the most admired and the most enduring which, reflect the thoughts with the most lucid simplicity. Thus it is in Homer, Plato, Livy, and Ariosto. The trans- parency of the diction preserves every feature of thought unbroken. And this transparency is always the result of intense fervor of C9nception. That exqui- site material through which, from our sunny chambers, we gaze out on the scenery of woods and gardens, has received its crystalline purity only through the fiery pro- 392 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. cesses of the furnace. It was melted by the flame before the rough particles of sand disappeared in that cloudless surface of beauty, through which the minutest fibre of the leaf, or the purple streak upon the 'tulip, is conspicuous. It is the same with language. The harsh ingredients have been blended and fused by the ardent flame of an excited imagination, before it brightens into that surface of mild beauty upon which the physiogno- my of the faintest emotion may be distinctly traced. Pope has not omitted to notice this peculiarity in the Homeric poems, and to attribute it to this cause." The above remarks are strikingly, and yet in a de- gree mournfully appropriate to the subject of this sketch. Their pertinency consists in the vivid manner in which they describe the process which has produced the transparent force of his style ; and the only sad asso- ciation they suggest is that connected with the fact that when he can be no longer seen in the full splendors of his living speech, nTuch of his oratorical influence will have become forever eclipsed. His written eloquence is not devoid of admirable traits, but it is his spoken excellence as heard, felt, seen, in himself alone, that is so rarely excelled. There is a vast superiority in those inspirations of vitality and action .which enlist themselves at cnce on the side' of truth with a fearlessness of argument and enthusiasm which bear .down all opposition. In the greatest .emergency /Mr. Preston does not fear to aban- don himself to his -own sensations, and depend upon them. Like the Scythian warrior, he is -most deadly in his aim when moving at the fleetest pace. This is at WILLIAM C, PRESTON. 393 the same time the source of great practical power and the cause of much popular admiration. There is some- thing very fascinating in seeing that done with careless ease, which most persons attempt only with laborious difficulty ; to witness the performance, causes the spec- tator to share somewhat in that general animation with which the masterly adept seems to be inspired. Though at the moment we may not reflect on the great pains which have been taken beforehand to secure the facility we witness, our pleasure is undivided in feeling, as well as seeing, the results produced. It is only as the mind is free and spontaneous that it can be pleasing and im- pressive. Whatever is undertaken by a reluctant un- derstanding, and executed with a servile hand, cannot be characterized by any high degree of excellence. Extemporaneous speech is our orator's great forte, and in this department he is without a superior in this land or age. " Lighting himself, where'er he soars or dives, with his own bright brain," his inspired declamation occupies the very first rank of its kind. He has more power to astonish, perhaps, than ability to inform ; and yet in this latter quality he is not ordinarily excelled. He has learned to generalize his ideas, and verify their worth in perpetual practice, effective and appropriate. It is thus that he has acquired the only true criterion of oratorical worth, exemplified by him ; while with a wise care, " Judge of his art, through beauty's realms he flies, Selects, combines, improves, diversifies." Every great mind is endowed with a prevailing cha 17* 394 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. acteristie, to which all other qualities minister without being absorbed ; and this prevailing trait, like the key- stone of an arch, unites and fortifies all lesser powers. Agility does not destroy- firmness, nor strength crush ?gility ; elegance does not degenerate into effeminacy, nor is hugeness mistaken for grandeur. Dignity, grace, and valor, when combined in the greatest and most per- fect degree, Jose none of their primary features, but blend in harmonious excellence, and present an aggre- gate of most delightful charms. Thus the Hercules of Glycon, though the symbol of absolute, uniform, and irresistible strength, is swift as a stag, elastic as a ball, and in his rugged might graceful like Apollo. So in eloquence, perfection does not destroy truth, or deface elegance. Racine, in all the refinement of his art is more natural than Victor Hugo ; just as the Python- slayer, in all his divinity, is more human in his form and motion than an Egyptian colossus. Nothing tends more to destroy oratorical effect than insane profusion : while, on the other hand, the entire absence of adornments is not so much simplicity, as poverty. There may sometimes appear to be much beauty when there is no force ; as Milton's fine dark eyes continued to sparkle when they were stone blind. But this is not often the case with Preston, whose pre- vailing power lies in profuse and vital enthusiasm. He is familiar with classical learning, and is a sincere devotee at the shrine of all the elegant arts. Ever in- dustrious to transfer the best and most enduring beauties to oratory, he has, by aid of his vivid imagina- tion, imparted to the language of the forum charms WILLIAM C. PRESTOtf. 395 which neither painting nor music had the ability to express. It is this quality that renders him habitually energetic, but seldom extravagant. As Titian, in the dreadful familiarity with which he causes the guardian snake of the Boeotian well to approach the companions of Cadmus, touched the true vein of terror and marked its limits, so Preston can with a bold hand suggest the horrible in a few significant lines, and yet control him- self with a sagacious taste that seldom offends. In him, this is the inspiration of nature, rather than the dictate of art, and is at once the basis and crowning charm of his fervid eloquence. But " Thy last, thy noblest task remains untold, Passion to paint, and sentiment unfold." To the question, What are the chief sources of Mr. Preston's eloquence ? we would mention three love of the beautiful, native enthusiasm, and patriotic devotion. In the first place, the inspiring, beautifying, and ennobling influence of plastic, pictorial, and dramatic art are loved by few, and appreciated by nope, with a more discriminating and ardent zeal than by the ex- Senator from South Carolina. From early manhood he has been their devoted admirer and munificent patron. At home and abroad he has sought out the best models, and imbued his soul with their consummate charms. Their inarticulate melody has become the vernacular of his heart, and this perpetual paean resounding within, has delicately attuned more earthly organs, and perpet- ually coins language kindred to itself, and most palpable to common sense. 396 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. The elegant arts occupy a very important place in the education of every man destined for the functions of public life. Aristotle, in the Third Chapter of the Eighth Book of his Politics, speaking of the statesmen of his day, says : " All men taught grammatta or lit- erature, gymnastics and" music, and many teen graphi- keen, or the art of design, as being useful, and abun- dantly useful, to the purposes of life ; but mainly be- cause it enables us to appreciate the merits of distin- guished artists, and carries us to the contemplation of real beauty ; as letters, which are the elements of cal- culation, terminate in the contemplation of truth." .To the same purpose, Castiligione, the friend of Raphael, in his Cortigiano, says : " Before I undertake this, there is one thing I desire to speak of, which, because in my judgment it appears of importance, ought by no means to be omitted in the character of our perfect statesman, and that is skill in drawing, and a competent knowledge in the very art of painting: nor think it strange that I require this skill in a states- man, which in these days is looked upon as mechanical, and little becoming a gentleman." If in all our higher institutions of learning there were galleries and competent professors of art, as well as li- braries and literary disquisitions, it would be well for the genius of the present generation, and auspicious of the best cultivation in all future time. The bases of the arts touch each other : the same principles govern all, and they are especially serviceable to those who would perfect themselves in eloquence. The ancients -were convinced of this, and have transmitted to us the name WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 397 of Theon the Samian, as owing his celebrity to that intuition into the secret and sudden movements of nature, which the Greeks called fantasias, the Romans msiones, and which are better understood among our- selves by the phrase of "unpremeditated conceptions," or the re-production of associated ideas. Quintilian ex- plains this principle in the following passage in his- rhe- toric. Says he : " We give the name of visions to what the Greeks called fantasies; that power by which the im- ages of absent things are represented by the mind with the energy of objects moving before our eyes : he who conceives these rightly will be a master of passions ; his is that well-tempered fancy which can imagine things, voices, acts, as they really exist, a power, perhaps, in a great measure dependent on our will. For if these images so pursue us when our minds are in a state of rest, or fondly fed by hope, or in a kind of waking dream, that we seem to travel, to sail, to fight, to harangue in public, or to dispose of riches we possess not, and all this with an air of reality, why should we not turn to use this vice of the mind ? Suppose I am to plead the case of a murdered man, why should not every supposable circumstance of the act float before my eyes ? Shall I not see the murderer, unawares, rush in upon him ? In vain he tries to escape see how pale he turns hear you not his shrieks, his entreaties ? Do you not see him flying, struck, falling? Will not his blood, his ashy sem- blance, his groans, his last expiring gasp, seize on my mind ?" Observation, meditation, scientific research, and his- torical lore furnish the chief substratum of eloquence. 398 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. These transplant us into diversified regions and remotest times ; empires and revolutions of empires pass before us with memorable facts and actors in their train the legislator, the philosopher, the discoverer, the warrior, the artist, the divine, the grand agents of Providence and the beneficent polishers of life, are the personages which learning may collect, and the materials which reason may employ. But there are other, and often mightier faculties of the mind, in popular address, which demand other implements for their effective use. We refer to dramatic invention, the legitimate employment of which is seen in the exhibition of character, in the conflict of passions with the rules and prejudices of society, the rights and wrongs of the world. It is this that inspires, agitates us by reflected self-love, with pity, terror, hope and fear, joy and remorse ; whatever makes thoughts and events, time and place, the instruments of charac- ter and pathos, let the tissue be actual or fictitious, is its legitimate claim, and may be subordinated to the most profitable designs. Such is the invention of Sophocles, Shakspeare, and Raphael ; and such is the character most marked in, Mr. Preston's style. This imparts to him, in his happier inspirations, a grace which is beauty in motion ; it regulates the air, the attitudes, and move- ments of his body and mind " The nameless graces which no methods teach, And which a master-hand alone can reach." Minds of pure Attic taste love the Hybla heather more for its sweet hives than its purple hues ; but they only become more attractive when delicately tinge:! with the WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 399 last. Still we should never, forget that natural beauty is more desirable than the most consummate art, as a fair forehead outshines the diamond diadem thereon. Mere prettiness cannot long absorb attention in the presence of native majesty, any more than the transient sparkle of a cascade can withdraw the eye of refined taste from the mountain soaring above its source and sublimely reposing in its evening silence. Some men seem to have dreamed of an angel's face in early youth, and spent their whole subsequent life in trying to embody, in every word they utter, something of its loveliness. " In act most graceful and humane, their tongue drops manna." Mr. Preston is of this order in eloquence, inasmuch as he abounds in fervid imagery, genial sentiments, and elegant variety. There is less frigid simplicity than animated propriety in his composition. His language often resembles that of the Norman troubadour who compared the object of his love with a bird whose plumage assumes the hues of every flower and precious stone. He habitually .de- pends almost entirely on the circumstances of the occa- sion or the excitement of th%Jiour ; and such men suc- ceed admirably, or universally fail. They never drudge along with the uniform calmness of stupid mediocrity. They speak well only when they are manifestly inspired, and then they appear like an oriental sun, announced by no dawn and succeeded by no twilight. The second source of Mr. Preston's eloquence, and a very prolific one, is his native enthusiasm. The rea- son why great excellence is so rare on the rostrum, or in forensic debate, results from the necessity of com- 400 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. bining qualities the most diverse, as a pre-requisite to its attainment. To a sound head there must be united a warm and magnanimous heart. There is truth in the saying, that "something in fires depends upon the grate :" it is not an exaggerated assertion that almost everything in eloquence' depends upon the peculiar tem- perament of the orator. If he is by nature frigid and formal, his speech will necessarily be barrenner than ice ; but if an ardent and affectionate spirit throbs in his bosom, it is probable that a corresponding pulse and power will characterize the language he employs. Examine all great orators, and you will invariably find them " Rich in invisible treasures, like a bud Of inborn sweets, and thick about the heart With ripe and rosy b.eauty full to trembling." Says an agreeable writer, "There are some persons in the world who are special favorites among all who know them, who find or make friends everywhere ; whose company every one enjoys, and from whom every one is loath to sepat'ate. Their frank and easy manners inspire confidence at first sight, and one num- bers them as friends almost as soon as one has made their acquaintance. No one is ever ' not at home ' to them ; their visit is anticipated as a pleasure ; and no one feels disposed to part with them without the cordial inquiry, ' When shall we see you again ?' There is an exuberance of pleasureable life about them which seems to diffuse itself among all around, and their pre- sence is felt to be an addition to the general amount of WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 401 happiness in the circle privileged with their company. In selecting a party of friends, their name always sug- gests itself first, and the absence of any two others would be a less disappointment than theirs. Every one seeks their side at the dinner-table, and he deems him- self fortunate whose chair in the social circle is next to theirs. Innocent childhood loves to sit on their knee and prattle its earnest nonsense in their ear; impetuous youth finds in them cordial companions ; and old age values them as pleasant and estimable friends. And yet it is not to their personal comeliness that they are indebted for their popularity, for their exterior is often far from prepossessing ; nor to their intellect, for even their best admirers do not imagine them Byrons, nor do they themselves turn down their shirt-collars to be thought such. They have no remarkable vein of humor to boast of, never made a pun, perhaps, in their lives, scarcely know what an epigram is, are quite inca- pable of setting the table in a roar, and are distinguished neither for their fine clothes nor their long purses. One quality, however, they possess, which proves an over-match for every other distinction, namely, a trans- parent kindly nature, a desire to promote the happiness of all around them, a generous warmth of feeling, a frank cordial bearing, a universal sympathy in one word, 'heart.'" Every sentence of this description applies very ap propriately to Mr. Preston, barring what is said about punning and setting the table in a roar. He is no bungler at that ! Otherwise the portrait is correct of our enthusiastic countryman in whom the dew-drops 402 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. that gemmed the morning of life were not " parched and dried up in manhood's noon." The confiding trust, and uncalculating generosity of youth, were not merged into the cold suspicious selfishness common to our ma- turer days. His head has not been disciplined at the expense of the heart ; and the boasted wisdom of age has not been made the poor substitute for that freshness of feeling which it is the unhappy tendency of artificial education to depress if not entirely to eradicate. Car- rying the frank buoyancy and indomitable enthusiasm of early boyhood along with his maturing growth through its every stage, Mr. Preston may now say, in the full meridian of his powers, " I live in all things and am closed in none." This native generosity, or quality of heart of which we have spoken, creates the best writers and most popular orators in the world. It was this that made Shakspeare, Goldsmith, Cowper, and Burns what they were with the pen ; and it was this that endowed Chat- ham, Sheridan, Patrick Henry, and his distinguished relative, William C. Preston, with their great power in public speech. Such men gleam not in the cold and lifeless radiance of the moon, but with the genial and vitalizing splendors of the sun. The enthusiasm glow- ing in their own bosom has an affinity for all affection, and inclines all hearts to itself as the magnet draws steel. It is a power grounded on the broad base of hu- man nature, and vibrates upon the feelings, not of this or that conventional class of persons, but in the breast of our common humanity. Herein lies the magical influence of some men in the pulpit, at the bar, and in WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 403 the senate ; they are actualities and not shams, have soul-leverage about them and can heave the world, calling forth smiles and tears, shouts and sobs at will. Every word they speak " Doth seek its way into the list'ning heart, As will a bird unto her secret nest, Then sit and sing." The orator under consideration is not one of those apathetic beings who never feel themselves enlarged and ennobled by those inspirations which elevate the person in whom they swell above the ordinary forces of dull humanity in the full fruition of pure and exalted joys. On the contrary, his soul teems with that native and en- thusiastic imagination which has been the fortune of each great poet, painter, and orator that has ever lived. Every character moulded by such creators as ^Eschylus, Homer, Dante, or the Bard of Avon, is energized by them in and through the heart. In the language of a powerful living author : " Every circumstance 01 sen- tence of their being, speaking, or seeming, is seized by process from within, and is referred to that inner secret spring of which the hold is never lost for an instant; so that every sentence, as it has been thought out from the heart, opens for us a way down to the heart, leads us to the centre, and then leaves us to gather what more we may ; it is the open sesame of a huge, obscure, endless cave, with inexhaustible treasure of pure gold scattered in it: the wandering about and gathering the pieces may be left to any of us, all can accomplish that; but 404 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. the first opening of that invisible door in the rock is of the imagination only. It will easily be inferred from what we have said con- cerning this particular trait that it is far from preserving its possessor from every fault. Of all men, he will be inclined to muse more than meditate, dictate to an amanuensis rather than handle his own pen. He would prefer riding with Ariosto on winged horses through the air, instead of sitting down with Milton to help " waste a sullen day with neat repast of Attic taste and wine." Mr. Preston, by natural endowments, if not by habitual preference, is of that class who " rather love a splendid failing than a petty good;" and whose spontaneous potency enables them to sway the masses of mankind as they list, now " leading them with Tyrtaean fire," now singing them to rest with gentlest murmurings. A mind thus impregnated with the flames of oratorical genius, though it may be greatly wanting in certain attributes, will surely in the end crown itself with the brightest honors, despite the cavils of envy or the sneers of mal- ice. That is a very inferior style which is character- ized by no manifest defects and no striking beauties. Such speakers must be classed with them who, as the great poet of character says, are " men of no mark or likelihood." But to this category our orator does not belong. He deals not in "the fantastic visions of fruit- ful mediocrity," but with more valuable materials expended in a more glorious career. Homer's descrip- tion of Venus approaching Anchises, and her influence on the woods, the birds, the sea, the fiercest animals even, may be taken as a fit symbol of the power which the WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 405 fervidly beautiful eloquence of Mr. Preston exerts on all classes everywhere. We remark, in conclusion, that his patriotic devotion, based on and blended with his native enthusiasm and love of the beautiful, is to him the third, and perhaps most prolific source of oratorical power. At the outset, we arranged before the reader a variety of examples showing the versatility of which Mr. Preston is capable in composition. His elocution accords exactly thereto. In his medium manner, he is all ease, frank- ness, and bland familiarity ; brilliant in expression, lively, even animated to a high degree often, but not too much so, to make a very agreeable impression on his audience, whatever may be the theme. Then, his language is "soft as a feathed-footed cloud in heaven," and his lucid demonstration is " full of all-sparkling sparry loveliness." He often falls into this careless, colloquial style, in a modulated tone, clear, distinct enunciation, and with a rich exuberance of unpremeditated sentiment, addressing the mind and heart of the delighted audience, and letting the ear glean after what it can. On occasions of greater importance, he indicates more care in preparation, and presents more elabo- rated thought. When he sets himself earnestly at work with all his energies to meet a great emergency, the in- telligent witness of the result feels that, as Zeuxis col- lected all the beauties of Agrigentum to compose a per- fect model, so Preston, when he wishes, can lay every department of excellence under contribution to com- pose his argument and adorn it with unequalled charms. From his place in the Senate, he poured molten gold 406 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. into the crucible of politics, with gems gathered from every glittering grotto, and fragrance distilled from every blooming field ; and, lo ! there issued from the fusion, many substantial and splendid formulas, beside much excellence that was palpable only to the most delicate sense. But the best strength of this enthusiastic patriot is never taxed to the utmost except when he feels that real and fearful dangers threaten the welfare of his own State or me Union at large. He loves his country deeply, pas- sionately, and we sincerely believe that no man is more willing to make greater sacrifices for the general weal, or more competent to promote it. Few excel him in gen- tler strains, " the sway of social, sovereign peace ;" but absolutely none like him can effectively command that more fiery eloquence that rings on the startled world like a clarion, and is "swift, in use diverse, as is a war- rior's spear." He then breathes all the firm resolute- ness of the martial-god, while "his red shield drips before him." He who is not sincerely patriotic, lacks a fundamental private virtue, and is as unworthy of pub- lic confidence as he will be certainly destitute of popular power. Practical experience and undoubted love ot country are essential to inspire respect and excite affec- tionate sympathy. Thus qualified, the orator will speak instinctively and exactly as all true men would feel, speak, and act in the circumstances he anticipates or describes. In all inspired eloquence, the results will be identical in kind, but diversified in degree, tinged with the individuality of the orator, and measured as to its influence by the depth and durability of his actual WILLIAM C. PRESTON. 407 emotions. For instance, ^Eschylus was a Marathonian hero Sophocles a philosopher ; and their works exactly comport with their respective characters. Webster and Preston used to sit close to each other in the American Senate. How unlike ! Listening to one, is like going from solemn, swelling music, into a stately sculpture-gallery, where you are surrounded with god-like forms, which give you (he impression of dis- tinct proportion and severest beauty, and which yet, by their majesty, bend you low in awful reverence. The other resembles an Italian parterre in full bloom, melo- dious with sparkling fountains, embellished with graceful vases and dancing fawns, redolent of sweet odors, and resounding with happy voices chatting and singing near, while the volcano burns on the view, and a fear- ful thunder-gust is beginning to obscure the sun. -& CHAPTER IX. THOMAS CORWIN, THE NATURAL ORATOR. To sketch the life of Mr. Corwin, analyze his mind, and describe his person, constitute the general purpose of this chapter, the execution of which will be attempt- ed under these three general heads. In the first place, it will be desirable to present such biographical facts as are requisite to elucidate the public career of the distinguished orator of Ohio, and in doing this, we shall rely mainly on the accuracy and refined taste of William Green, Esq. of Cincinnati. An article from his pen contributed to the American Review, Sept. 1847, gives the following details : " Thomas Corwin was born in Bourbon county, Ken- tucky, July 29th, 1794. At the age of four years, he was made a permanent resident of Ohio, by the removal of his parents to Warren county, in that State, in the year 1798. His father, for many years, was one of the most respectable and honored men of Ohio. For a long time a member of the legislature of the State, he was distinguished for the dignity and impartiality with which he presided, for several years, over its upper - 'TV & ::A| ? *% THOMAS COEWIN. 409 branch. The son was, and is worthy of the father The early pursuits of the former were of the humble kind; suited to a position entirely unpretending, and admirably calculated, under the influence of the consist ent presence of a virtuous example, to establish in the early character the foundations of the highest future usefulness. As might be supposed, from the influence of such early associations, instantly acting upon a strong and sensitive mind, it is not surprising that uncompromising firmness, and integrity of character, should everywhere be associated with his name, among the companionships and neighborhoods of his early life. "The community in which he was educated, and where are to be found his warmest friends, because there he is best known, were not less sensible of his talents than of his virtues. His mind was early accustomed to habits of thought ; and thus fitted him, at an early day, to exert a decided influence upon those around him, in concerns of a general public interest. It may be said of him, as of but few others, comparatively speaking, that he was grounded and formed in the prin- ciples calculated to render a public man eminently useful, before he became one. Instead of waiting for public life to teach him lessons, he thoroughly learned in private life what could not fail to fit him for a public one. This learning in him was associated with a uni- form and unyielding adherence to abstract truth ; and, therefore, doubtless it is, that in a public career of some twenty-two or three years, he has always been on the same side of principle, whenever, in occasional issues with political friends, it has been supposed to be 18 410 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA in conflict with expediency. Such a character in Mr. Corwin, which made him an early object -of attention to the people of his neighborhood, is happily destined to do credit to a political career; and he had passed but a short period the constitutional age of eligibility, when he was elected to the House of Representatives of Ohio. " His career as a Representative in the State Legisla- ture, though short, was characterized by the marks of independence, uprightness, and eloquence, which have given him so much distinction since. Those who knew him intimately twenty years ago, express no surprise at his course on the Mexican question, at the last session of Congress. Nor were they surprised that that course was vindicated by an effort of argument and eloquence such as the country or the world has rarely witnessed. On a smaller theatre, the same sort of power, both moral and intellectual, had been seen before, and with something of the same effort ; for, if we remember rightly, his high tone in vindication of a great and car- dinal abstract right, in the Legislature of the State, placed him for a short season in a sort of cloud with the friends with whom he generally acted. But his election to Congress, a short time after, showed that the cloud was only a passing one, and that he was all the stronger with a discriminating people ; that he had dared, in the honest conviction that he was right, to brave the ordeal of a temporarily-opposing public senti- ment. " Mr. Corwin's career in Congress was of nine years' continuance. He resigned his seat after the first session of the last term, in consequence of being made the can- THOMAS CORWIN. 411 didate for Governor of Ohio. His course in Congress, was that of a careful, thoughtful, conscientious man. His appearance in debate was rare, but always effec- tive. The announcement of his name*was an assur- ance of profound stillness in the House. That stillness continued while he occupied the floor, except as it was sometimes broken by demonstrations of excitement, such as wit, argument, and eloquence like his must oc- casionally produce. " Mr. Corwin's career as Governor of Ohio was limited to a single term of two years. His position, under the Constitution, which makes the executive office merely nominal, was one rather of dignity than of power ; and afforded him but little opportunity for the exhibition of those talents for which his course in other positions has shown him so remarkable. " His election to the Senate of the United States, by the Whig party, against a competition in its own ranks, which was, of itself, high honor, was perhaps the truest and highest expression that could have been given of the estimation in which he was held by the people of Ohio, and especially by the Whig party." From this brief biographical review, we proceed, secondly, to portray Mr. Corwin's mental character, and remark that his mind appears to be eminently unso- phisticated by pedantry, unshackled by prejudice, and unterrified by power. In the first place few minds have been developed in public life, adorning the highest functions with learning exact and varied, that have so constantly maintained an air entirely foreign to everything like pedantic display. 412 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. His erudition is copious, but unostentatious ; and his task is all the more infallible, because it is the legitimate offspring of nature, educated by propriety. Learning is used by him as means,*hot as an end ; moral grandeur, native and indestructible, rises spDntaneously from his soul, and this is as superior to all pedantic artificialness, as the perfected temple is superior to the chippings that lie about, or the scaffolding soon to be thrown down. If man is constantly seen in his work, what he produces will be of little value. He cannot have too much sci- entific accuracy or literary embellishment, but these should be felt rather than seen. When scholastic phrases abound more than the spirit of wisdom, they are the signs of a debased, mistaken, and false style of eloquence. " The skill of the artist, and the perfection of his art, are never proved until both are forgotten." Only that which is true to the structure and wants of the soul is potent and perpetual in its influence thereon ; since, as Cicero intimates, time obliterates the conceits of opinion or fashion, and establishes the verdicts of nature. He who is destined to become a great and beneficent orator, will early learn not only to see minutely the general laws which govern the human mind, but by critical observations in the outward world, and profound self- analysis, he becomes master of those nice traits by which different classes are individualized, and hence can palpably portray the hopes and feelings of all bosoms, like the Arabian Magician, he holds a polished mirror to our gaze, wherein we behold not ourselves and the pre- sent only, but the thought? and emotions of the past, THOMAS CORWIN. 413 scenes the most remote, and characters the most diver- sified. Men thus endowed will touch most sensibly a mixed audience, as well as interest, to the greatest de- gree, the most refined. Not only his graver productions will the erudite enjoy, but, in common with the unso- phisticated masses, they will keenly relish his lighter and more homely strains, according to the account given of such works by the inimitable master of wisdom and naturalness : " They were old and plain, The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Did use to chaunt them." Candidates for public life are often very solicitous to obtain at the outset a bold position suitable for the dis- play of their fine acquirements ; but those are sure to be most successful who seek rather to deserve popular favor than to forestall it. " Do not trouble yourself too much about the light on your statue," said Michael An- gelo to the young sculptor; "the light of the public square will test its value." It is not in proportion to the dry shells of knowledge gathered in the isolated clois- ter that a public character is to be estimated, but by the living and practical energies he has cultivated in actual conflicts with opposing elements and impetuous mankind. Let the aspirant strive most of all to be somebody, in head and heart, and there is no danger but the world will soon appreciate his real worth. Whatever is natural, true, and good, never long fails of being sincerely and universally esteemed. Why is it that admiration fo 414 LIVWG ORATORS IN AMERICA. works of consun mate excellence is undiminished by dis- tance or time ; that masterpieces excite the same feelings now as when they were first created, and are regarded with the same rapture on the banks of the Seine, the Thames, the Hudson, or the Ohio, as when they sancti- fied the temples of Athens, ennobled the martial trophies of Rome, or adorned the gardens of Florence ? It is because they are imbued with those elements of truth which pervade the human soul and the universe of God. Works of this stamp are scarce, but they are never trite. For instance, the frequent mention of most wri- ters soon palls on the mind, but the world has not yet grown tired of Shakspeare's name or thoughts. His volumes are like that of nature, and we can turn to them perpetually without weariness or disgust : 11 Age cannot wither, nor custom stale His infinite variety." Sydenham has beautifully said, whosoever describes a violet exactly as to its color, taste, smell, form, and other properties, will find the description agree in most particulars with all the violets in the world. It is the same in eloquence : he who can most lucidly express a truthful emotion from his own heart will most strongly affect the largest audience. Men differ less in sense than in sentiment; he who draws from his intellect only may be understood by a limited class whose mental conceptions correspond ; but he who embodies in plain language his own naturally excited sensibilities, will be immediately felt and appreciated by all mankind. THOMAS CORW1N. 415 If one would be perpetually interesting he must be perpetually varied. Certain medicines tend to produce immediate and- profuse perspiration, but if continued too long, they relax the system and fatally congeal the fountain of life. It is the same with unnatural excite- ment or insipid monotony. It is necessary to be neat without being fantastic, and free without carelessness. Simplicity of diction is a grand merit, infinitely trans- cending all artificial trickery, or stately, stilted march of language. Johnson well observed that Cato's Soliloquy is an instance to prove that the most solemn and elevated thought may be, in the most impressive man- ner, conveyed in language of the utmost simplicity. Pedantic ostentation, and assumed grimace are super- latively contemptible when compared with real wisdom and honest passion. When the tragedian of Athens moved all hearts as he clasped the burial urn and burst into broken sobs, there were few, perhaps, who knew that it held the ashes of his own son, but all were thrilled by his real emotion thus produced. When the feeling is that of nature, and tones are truthful, all kin- dred natures melt, and tears are spontaneously com- mingled from all hearts. In the second place, Mr. Corwin's mind is unshackled by prejudice, as well as unsophisticated by pedantry. Truthfulness to his own premeditated convictions seems to constitute its presiding principle and prolific force. His chief volume is man, his teacher truth, his school society at large : therein he has learned to draw the subtle discriminations of mental action in every stage of life, and amongst every class of mankind. In 416 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. those happy inspirations in which Mr. Corwin does not so much come to nature, as nature comes to him, he transmits her features like a lucid glass, unmodified by factitious tints or stains. He is powerful because he is true, expressing frankly and fearlessly what he distinctly sees and acutely feels: hence his sentiments wind resistlessly through the wards of human hearts, stealing their incarnate strength to conquer passion and ignoble prejudice. Spontaneous energy and instinctive grace oi- manner poise his language and exalt his argument, in a mode peculiar to himself, and which equally surprises the fancy, persuades the judgment, and affects the heart. He is less skilled in the refinements of art, than in the power of catching the passions as they rise in the breast, or escape from the lips of nature herself. This is the grand talisman of oratorical mastership " Which, like the fahled stone, conceived of fire, Son of the sun, transmutes all seen to soul." Mr. Corwin has ever cherished large and inspiring views of life. His mind, in its philosophical excursions, is not manacled by a wretched faith in obsolete formu- las; but believes in the moral progress of the human race, possesses a strong sympathy with all its lofty aspi- rations, and is consecrated to the beneficent task of crushing great evils, and mitigating acute pangs. The heaven-strung chords of man's immortal soul are all "free within him, to vibrate at the slightest sigh breathed from sorrowing hearts, and it is from this inimitable and inexhaustible source within that he draws those diversi- fied chains of thrilling power which so strikingly charac- THOMAS CORWIN. 417 terize his living speech. Man is not a being of thought only, but also of feeling ; he is a whole, composed of various related powers, and to this susceptible unity, the aggregate of multifarious variety, the orator must speak with correspondent tones, if he would hope to persuade. Then words, like enchanting hieroglyphics, interpreted by the flames kindled at the chief source of passion, glide through the eye, strike charmingly on the ear, stir up the mind, take captive the imagination, besiege the understanding, and conduct the listener through delicious conviction to confirmed belief. Mr. Cor win's mind may be symbolized by the bee, not when cramped and cringing in his self-built, narrow cell; but pursuing a bright and brave life upon the wing among flowers. Conventionalities never cripple him in the presence of duty, but he darts forward natural and free. " As morning wind, with wing fresh wet, Shakes dew out of the violet." No great and lasting reputation was ever gained in any department of mental excellence, but by a close and correct representation of reality. Great artists, writers, and speakers are universally admired only as they penetrate to the deep substratum of natural charac- ter, which, however disguised and modified by local circumstances, is in essence everywhere the same. It is only as the voice of nature, the vernacular tongue of all our race, speaks through mental creations, that they are endowed with the highest and most attractive worth ; as it was only when the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the deep, that order, beauty, and sub- 18* 418 LIVING OEATOR8 TO AMERICA. limity stood revealed to the world. Homer pleases, wherever the springs of social life are pure ; and is read with delight by all classes, in almost every culti- vated language, because he is true to the emotions of all. He takes us at once into the Grecian councils ; walks directly on the banks of Scamander ; deals in real armies and real heroes. We see Paris going out to battle like the war-horse prancing to the river side ; the wife, the mother, in natural anxiety ; or, most touching of all, the aged and mourning father a sup- pliant at the feet of the youthful hero who destroyed his son. And how did the greatest bard of modern times people the fancies of his readers, and guarantee to himself perpetual influence but, as Jeffrey suggests, " in the delicate sensibility with which he has traced, and the natural eloquence with which he has pointed out that fond familiarity with beautiful forms and im- ages that eternal recurrence to what is sweet or ma- jestic in the simple aspects of nature that indestruct- ible love of flowers and odors, and dews and clear waters, and soft airs and sounds, and bright skies, and woodland solitudes, and moonlight bowers, which are the material elements of poetry and that fine sense of their undefinable relation to mental emotion, which is its essence and vivifying soul and which, in the midst of Shakspeare's most busy and atrocious scenes, falls like gleams of sunshine on rocks and ruins contrast- ing with all that is rugged and repulsive, and reminding us of the existence of purer and brighter elements ! which HE ALONE has poured out from the richness of his own mind, without effort or restraint; and contrived THOMAS CORIVIN. 419 to intermingle with the play of all the passions, and the vulgar course of this world's affairs, without deserting for an instant the proper business of the scene, or ap- pearing to pause or digress, from the love of ornament or need of repose ! HE ALONE, who, when the object requires it, is always keen and worldly and practical and who yet, without changing his hand, or stopping his course, scatters around him, as he goes, all sounds and shapes of sweetness and conjures up landscapes of immortal fragrance and freshness, and peoples them with spirits of glorious aspect and attractive grace and is a thousand times more full of fancy, and imagery, and splendor, than those who, in pursuit of such en- chantments, have shrunk back from the delineation of character or passion, and declined the discussion of human duties and cares. More full of wisdom, and ridicule, and sagacity, than all the moralists and satirists that ever existed he is more wild, airy, and inventive, and more pathetic and fantastic, than all the poets of all regions and ages of the world : and has all those elements*so happily mixed up in him, and bears his high faculties so temperately, that the most severe reader can- not complain of him for want of strength or of reason nor the most sensitive for defect of ornament or inge- nuity. Everything in him is in unmeasured abundance, and unequalled perfection but everything so balanced and kept in subordination, as not to jostle or disturb or take the place of another. The most exquisite poetical conceptions, images, and descriptions, are given with such brevity, and introduced with such skill, as merely to adorn, without loading the sense 420 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. they accompany. Although his sails are purple and perfumed, and his prow of beaten gold, they waft him on his voyage not less, but more rapidly and directly, than if they had been composed of baser materials. All his excellencies, like those of Nature herself, are thrown out together ; and, instead of interfering with, support and recommend each other. His flowers are not tied up in garlands, nor his fruits crushed into baskets but spring living from the soil, in all the dew and freshness of youth ; while the graceful foliage in which they lurk, and the ample branches, the rough and vigorous stem, and the wide-spreading roots on which they depend, are present along with them, and share in their places, the equal care of their Creator." Boileau compressed much meaning in his memorable verse, that " nothing is beautiful but what is natural." The way to write and speak in words and tones that will effectively and universally impress, is to write and speak sincerely. That alone can impel which God has made powerful truth and honesty. Life Qnlv imparts life, and by true utterances alone are indelible impres- sions produced. An eye that can see, an ear that can hear, a heart that can feel, and a resolution that dares follow the convictions of truth in the path of nature ; these are the grand characteristics of true eloquence, and its chief creators. He who makes nature his con- stant and intimate companion, will thereby take all the world into a delighted companionship, and will have power to sway them when or where his purposes may lead. It is the blending of theory and practice, abstract reason and simole sense, oroducing consummate THOMAS CORWIN. 421 worth ; to which union in the highest eloquence, we may apply the answer of Polixenes, in the Winter's Tale, to Perdita's neglect of the streaked gilly-flowers, because she had heard it said, " There is an art which in their piedness shares With great creating nature. Pol. Say there be : Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean. So ev'n that art, Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes ! You see, sweet maid, we many A gentler scion to the wildest stock : And make conceive a bark of ruder kind By bud of nobler race. This is an art, Which does mend nature change it rather; but The art itself is nature." The bases of the arts touch each other, and the same fundamental principle presides over all. History deli- neated on canvas, and eloquence speaking from the printed page or fervid lips, are governed by the same general rules. Burke, who best felt and in a good de- gree exemplified this truth, said, " The painter who wishes to make his pictures (what fine pictures ought to be), nature elevated and improved, must first gam a perfect knowledge of nature as she is : before he makes men as they ought to be, he must know how to make them as they are ; he must acquire an accurate know- ledge of all the parts of the body and countenance. To know anatomy will be of little use, unless physiology and physiognomy are joined to it." Again "Works of real merit are produced by a laborious 422 LIVING ORATORS IN A MERICA. and accurate investigation of nature upon the princi- ples observed by the Greeks first, to make themselves thoroughly acquainted with the common forms of na- ture, and then, by selecting and combining, to form compositions according to their own elevated concep- tions. " This is the true principle of poetry and painting. Homer and Shakspeare had perhaps never seen charac- ters so strongly marked as Achilles and Lady Macbeth, and yet we feel those characters are drawn from nature ; the limbs and features are those of common nature, but elevated and improved!" The greatest masters have one great decided beauty in their works. Their figures, whether in action, or repose, or expression, always appear to be the uncon- scious agents of an impulsion they cannot help ; the spectator is never drawn aside from what they are doing by any artificial ness in them, as if they labored most to show how grand or graceful they are. They seem impelled by an impulse they cannot control ; their heads, hands, feet, and bodies, instinctively put them- selves into positions the best adapted to execute the spontaneous intentions of the mind. All studied grace is unnatural, as. is seen in children who are naturally graceful until they learn to dance. True genius is geniality, a power universally felt, though happily expressed but by few. Its voice is al- ways recognized, and its humblest whisper is heard wide over all the world in a thousand thrilling airs. This spirit of genuine eloquence is not the work of intellect merely, but the finer breath of the soul, roused and radi- THOMAS CORWIN. 423 ant with the hopes, fears, and joys wnich lend this mor- tal life its greatest passion and power. Thus Cowper through his " Task," Burns through his ballads, and Corwin through his popular addresses, find an immedi- ate echo in every human bosom, because they indite things pertaining to humanity in a human manner. Their meaning always dwells in their language, in secret sanctity and unobscured charms, "like a golden toy mid Beauty's orbed bosom," and vet, simple as are the words, from the innate nobility of the ideas, how gracefully dignified are the sentiments, how powerful in their in- fluence on both head and heart. Therein is most strikingly verified the saying, that " One touch of Nature makes the world of kin." The highest types of charac- ter are always marked by honest, unpretending, manly simplicity of genius, and habits of life, which not only excite admiration, but confidence and love. True power is always real, and not artificial. When men labor hard to appear like simple, humble, and honest people, their affectation immediately betrays the paucity of their talents and the hypocrisy of their purpose. The result is something which, as Ninon de 1'Enclos said of the young Marquis de Sevigne, has very much the character of fricasseed snow, and is utterly destruc- tive of all effective eloquence. In the following lines, Faust gives excellent counsel to every public speaker : "Good sense and truth are good enough for men. Hast anything to say ? Out with it, then ! And the more natural the style, the better. Your pompous words, your phrases nicely join'd, Will find the people deaf as any adder 424 LIVING ORATORS IN AM iRICA. They're but dry leaves, that rustle in the wind, No comfcrt for the soul ; peas in a bladder." We have said that the mind of Mr. Corwin is neither sophisticated by pedantry, nor shackled by prejudice ; we remark, thirdly, that it is eminently unterrified by power. His mental independence is his most prominent trait. It was this that early and rapidly led him to dis- tinction. He did not wait for the pedantic routine usually deemed indispensable for admission to the temple of fame, but boldly forged his own keys, entered, and at once took possession of a conspicuous niche. From the outset he scorned to appear as the tame imitator of the veterans- he encountered, but was first their mag- nanimous emulator, and then speedily a triumphant rival. Mr. Corwin is habitually neither fawning nor fierce ; he is true. In his speech, there is never arrogant assump tion, no flourish of trumpets as if to introduce some- thing splendid, but all is calmly resolute and moves on in an easy, natural course. It is a style which tends to ex- cite healthfully and purify our common human nature and elevate it, by working on the instincts and tenden- cies co-extensive with the race. He bears a transparent bosom, is courteous to all adversaries, but never fails to call things by their right names. Most orators are people who talk, and not prophets divinely inspired. But true eloquence is not a body merely ; it is a soul so vital and creative, that it does not so much take a form as make one, and adorns the world it has come to move. It is the pungent expression of those thoughts to which the universe is nearest allied, and most clearly celebrates, not in symbols only but substance, n^it in showy forms THOMAS CORWIN. 425 but serene al mightiness. Every sentiment and the lan- guage in which it is clothed, is fresh as a new morn, grand like the soul whence it arose, and luminous as the meridian sun. We will here present some specimens which will ex- emplify the three points mentioned above, in the analy- sis of Mr. Corwin's mind. The first abounds in pure wit, and occurs in the author's vindication of the ven- erated Harrison from the attack of Gen. Crary, of Mich- igan. That gentleman, on the 14th of February, 1840, in a debate on the Cumberland Road in Congress, seized the occasion to enlighten mankind with his views of Gen. Harrison's deficiencies as a military commander, his mistakes at Tippecanoe, &c. &c. &c. Mr. Corwin replied in a torrent of humor, sarcasm, and ridicule, which completely overwhelmed his victim, and led John Quincy Adams a few days after to refer to him as " the late Mr. Crary." The following passage will give some idea of the scathing wit which prevails through the whole speech : "In all other countries, and in all former times, a gen- tleman who would either speak or be listened to on the subject of war, involving subtle criticisms and strategy, and careful reviews of marches, sieges, battles, regular and casual, and irregular onslaughts, would be required to show, first, that he had studied much, investigated fully, and digested the science and history of his subject. But here, sir, no such painful preparation is required : wit- ness the gentleman from Michigan ! He has announced to the House that he is a militia general on the peace establishment ! That he is a lawyer we know, tolerably 426 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. well read in Tidd's Practice and Aspinasse's Nisi Prius These studies, so happily adapted to the subject of war, with an appointment in the militia in time of peace, fur- nish him at once with all the knowledge necessary to discourse to us, as from high authority, upon all the mys- teries of the ' trade of death. ' Again, Mr. Speaker, it must occur to every one, that we, to whom these questions are submitted and these military criticisms are addressed, be ing all colonels at least, and most of us, like the gentle- man himself, brigadiers, are, of all conceivable tribunals, best qualified to decide any nice points connected with military science. I hope the House will not be alarmed with the impression that I am about to discuss one or the other of the military questions now before us at length, but I wish to submit a remark or two, by way of prepar- ing us for a proper appreciation of the merits of the dis- course we have heard. I trust as we are all brother-of- ficers, that the gentleman from Michigan, and the two hundred and forty colonels or generals of this honorable House, will receive what I have to say as coming from an old brother in arms, and addressed to them in a spirit of candor, 'Such as becometh comrades free, Reposing after victory. ' "Sir, we all know the military studies of the military gentleman from Michigan before he was promoted. I take it to be beyond a reasonable doubt that he had pe- rused with great care the title-page of 'Baron Steuben.' Nay, I go further ; as the gentleman has incidentally as- sured us that he is prone to look into musty and neglected THOMAS CORWIN. 427 volumes, I venture to assert, without vouching in the least from personal knowledge, that he has prosecuted his re- searches so far as to be able to know that the rear rank stands right behind the front. This I think is fairly inferable from what I understood him to say of the two lines of encampment at Tippecanoe. Thus we see, Mr. Speaker, that the gentleman from Michigan, being a militia general, as he has told us, his brother officers, in that simple statement has revealed the glorious history of toils, privations, sacrifices, and bloody scenes, through which, we know from experience and observation, a militia officer, in time of peace, is sure to pass. We all in fancy, now see the gentleman from Michigan in that most dangerous and glorious event in the life of a militia general on the peace establishment a parade day ! That day, for which all the other days of his life seem to have been made. We can see the troops in motion umbrellas, hoes, and axe handles, and other like deadly implements of war, overshadowing all the field : when, lo ! the leader of the host approaches ! ' Far off his coming shines : ' " His plume which, after the fashion of the great Bour- bon, is of awful length, and reads its doleful history in the bereaved necks and bosoms of forty neighboring hen- roosts. Like the great SuwarofF, he seems somewhat careless in forms or points of dress ; hence his epaulettes may be on his shoulders, back, or sides, but still gleaming, gloriously gleaming, in the sun. Mounted he is, too, let it not be forgotten. Need I describe to the colonels and generals of this honorable House, the steed 428 LIVING (.RATORd IN AMERICA. which heroes bestride on these occasions? No ! 1 see the memory of other days is with you. You see before you the gentleman from Michigan, mounted on his crop- eared, bushy-tailed mare, the singular obliquity of whose hinder limbs is best described by that most expressive phrase, ' sickle hams' for height just four- teen hands, ' all told ;' yes, sir : there you see his 'steed that laughs at the shaking of the spear;' that is his war horse ' whose neck is clothed with thunder.' Mr. Speaker, we have glowing descriptions in history of Alexander the Great and his war-horse Bucephalus, at the head of the invincible Macedonian phalanx; but, sir, such are the improvements of modern times that every one must see that our militia general, with his crop- eared mare, with bushy tail and sickle ham, would totally frighten off a battle-field a hundred Alexanders. But, sir, to the history of the parade-day. The general, thus mounted and equipped, is in the field, and ready for action. On the eve of some desperate enterprise, such as giving order to shoulder arms, it may be, there occurs a crisis, one of those accidents of war, which no sagacity could foresee nor prevent. A cloud rises and passes over the sun ! Here is an occasion for the display of that greatest of all traits in the history of a commander the tact which enables him to seize upon and turn to good account unlocked for events as they arise. Now for the caution wherewith the Roman Fabius foiled the skill and courage of Hannibal ! A retreat is ordered, and troops and general, in a twinkling, are found safely bivouacked in a neighboring grocery. But even here the general still has room for the execution of heroic THOMAS CORWIN. 420 deeds. Hot from the field, and chafed with the heroic events of the day, your general unsheathes his trenchant blade, eighteen inches in length, as you will remember, and with energy and remorseless fury he slices the water-melons that lie in heaps around him, and shares them with his surviving friends. Others of the sinews of war are not wanting here. Whiskey, Mr. Speaker, that great leveller of modern times, is here also, and the shells of the water-melons are filled to the brim. Here again, Mr. Speaker, is shown how the extremes of bar- barism and civilization meet. As the Scandinavian heroes of old, after the fatigues of war, drank wine from the skulls of their slaughtered enemies, in Odin's halls, so now our militia general and his forces, from the skulls of the melons thus vanquished, in copious draughts of whiskey assuage the heroic fire of their souls, after a parade-day. But, alas for this short-lived race of ours ! all things will have an end, and so it is even with the glorious achievements of our general. Time is on the wing, and will not stay his flight; the sun, as if frightened at the mighty events of the day, rides down the sky, and ' at the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,' the curtain of night drops upon the scene, ' And Glory, like the phoenix in its fires, Exhales its odors, blazes and expires.' " To this we may subjoin an extract which exemplifies the effective combination of severe attributes with the lighter graces of oratory. Oratorical power of the first order exists only when the serious and the sportive are symmetrically joined. In suci a consummation, as 430 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. in the bard of Avon, we find a strong, unostentatious master, who is able, with, perfect ease and certainty, without formal reasoning, subtilizing and classifying his ideas, to seize with confident hand, whatever is true 01 false in man, and express it in a manner the most natural, forcible, and just. His attitudes, motions, and sentiments will be graceful and effective, because they are poised by nature and impelled by truth. Fresh as a spouting spring among the hills, his heart leaps out to life, and his accents are everywhere greeted with delight, because he speaks the world's one tongue. What he utters is of "nature's flow not art's; a fountain's^ not a pump's." No man can long command an attentive hearing, who has not the power of captivating the imagination. This he will best accomplish by commingling an official, elaborated, Ciceronian, admirative style, with one more conversational, anecdotical, and jocular. The aggregate will be conceived and fashioned according to popular ideas and tastes, and speaks at once to the senses and understandings of the great commonality. Such a style assumes a lyric flexibility, and becomes the very mirror and echo of the human soul. The charm arises not so much from the originality inherent in eternal ideas, as from the simple earnestness they develop, the exalted sentiments they breathe, and the exquisite naturalness of their expression. No composition can be beautiful or natural without variety, or even without contrast ; but care must be taken to prevent variety from degenerating into inconsistency, and contrast into contradiction. With this precaution each distinguished part will make a separate impression, and while all bear the same stamp, THOMAS CORWIN. 431 concurring towards the same end, every portion is an additional support and adornment to the prevailing idea. Such alternations of smoothness and ruggedness, form- ing a picturesque naturalness of style, affects an audience much like the excitement produced by the intricacies of wild romantic mountainous scenes, wherein curiosity, while it prompts us to scale every rocky promontory, and explore every new recess, by its salubrious exercise keeps the fibres of the body excited to their full tone, and the mind perpetually on the stretch. Thus exer- cised, the enraptured observer drinks in all that in na- ture is brilliant or pure, all that in feeling is sacred or sublime. This in turn produces eloquence, which no more palls on the popular taste, than the mountainous billows of the sea in their playfulness grow weary of the wind. It is this coquetry of nature which makes her beauty more amusing, more varied, and more playful, but also not " less winning soft, less amiably mild." It is the spirit of mightiest conquests, as attractive as it is potent : " Like the blush of love upon the cheek, Or the full feeling lightening through the eye, Or the quick music in the chords of harps." But to the extracts we promised. The following are from the great speech against the Compromise Bill, which Mr. Corwin delivered in the United States Sen- ate, July 24th, 1848 ; and which the reporter said " swept like a consuming fire through the dry grass, under a high wind, destroying in its flames arguments, appeals, au- thorities, compromises .easing the whole question in the 432 LIVING OEATORS IN AMERICA. naked form of the admission or exclusion of slavery." We have to regret that our limits will not admit the whole production. " You say this land was conquered by the common blood of the country ; you trace back the consideration which you have paid for this country to the blood and the bones of the gallant men that you sent there to be sacrificed ; and pointing to the unburied corpses of her sons who have fallen there, the South exclaims: ' These these constitute my title to carry my slaves to that land ! It was purchased by the blood of my sons.' The aged parent, bereft of his children, and the widow with the family that remains, desire to go there to bet- ter their fortunes, if it may be, and pointing to the graves of husband and children, exclaim : ' There there was the price paid for our proportion of this territory !' Is that true ? If that could be made out if you dare put that upon your record if you can assert that you hold the country by the strong hand, then you have a right to go there with your slaves. If we of the North have united with you of the South in this expedition of piracy, and robbery, and murder, that oldest law known among men ' honor among thieves' requires us to divide it with you equally. [Laughter and subdued applause.] Nay, more, it is only a fitting finale to that infernal tragedy, that after having slaughtered fifty thousand hu- man beings, in order to extend your authority over these one hundred and fifty thousand, the murder should be followed by the slavery of every one that can be made subject to the law of power. "Sir, if it be true that you hold this territory by con- THOMAS CORWIN. 433 quest, you hold it precisely by the same right that the Virginian holds his slave to-day, and by no other. You have stolen the man, and with the strong hand torn him from his own home part of his family you have killed, and the rest you have bound in chains and brought to Virginia! Then, in accordance with the brand which it seems the Almighty has. impressed upon poor woman partus sequitur ventremyou condemn to Slavery, to the remotest posterity, the offspring of your captive! It is the same right originally in both cases. This right of conquest is the same as that by which a man may hold another in bondage. You may make it into a law if you please : you may enact that it may be so : it may be convenient to do so : after perpetrating the original sin, it may be better to do so. But the case is not aT- tered ; the source of the right remains unchanged. What is the meaning of the old Roman word Servus ? I profess no great skill in philological learning, but I can very well conceive how somebody looking into this thing, might understand what was the law in those days. The man's life was saved when his enemy conquered hini in battle. He became servus the man preserved by his magnanimous foe ; and perpetual slavery was then thought to be a boon preferable to death. That wag the way in which slavery began. Has anybody found out on the face of the earth a man fool enough to give himself up to another, and beg him to make him his slave ? I do not know of one such instance under heaven. Yet it may be so. Still I think that not one man of my complexion of the Caucasian race could be found quite willing to do that! 19 434 LIVING ORATORS OF AMERICA. " This right, which you are now asserting to .his coun- try, exists in no other foundation than the law of force, and that -was the original law by which one man appro- priated the services and will of another to himself. Thus far we have been brought after having fought for this country and conquered it. The solemn appeal is made to us ' Have we not mingled our blood with yours in. acquiring this country ?' Sure, my brother ! But did we mingle our blood with yours for the purpose of wresi- ing this country by force from this people ? That is the question. You did not say so six months ago. You dare not say so now ! " You may say that it was purchased, as Louisiana or as Florida was, with the common treasure of the coun- try ;.and then we come to the discussion of another pro- position : What right do you acquire to establish slave- ry there ? But I was about to ask of some gentleman the Senator from S. C. for instance, whose eye at a glance has comprehended almost the history of the world what he supposes will be the history of this, onr Mexican war, and these our Mexican acquisitions, if we should give it the direction which he desires? I do not speak of the propriety of slave labor being carried anywhere. I will waive that question entirely. What is it of which the Senator from Vermont has told us this morning, and of which we have heard so much during the last three weeks ? Every gale that floats across the Atlantic comes freighted with the death groans of a King; every vessel that touches our shores bears with her tidings that the captives of the Old World are at iast becoming free that they are seeking, through blood V THOMAS JORWIN. 435 and slaughter blindly and madly, it may be, but never- theless resolutely deliverance from the fetters that have held them in bondage. Who are they? The whole of Europe. And it is only about a year ago, I believe, that that officer of the Turkish Empire who holds sway in Tunis, one of the old slave markets of the world, whose prisons formerly received those of our peo- ple taken upon the high seas and made slaves to their captors announced to the world that everybody should there be free. And, if I am not mistaken, it will be found that this magic line which the Senator from S. C. believes has been drawn around the globe which we in- habit, with the vtew of separating Freedom and Slave- ry 36 30, brings this very Tunis into that region in which by the ordinance of God men are to be .held in bondage! All over the world the air is vocal with the shouts of men made free. .What does it all mean ? It means that they have been redeemed from political ser- vitude ; and in God's name I ask, if it be a boon to man- kind to be free from political servitude, must it not be accepted as a matter of some gratulation that they have been relieved from absolute subjection to the arbitrary power of others ? What do we say of them ? I am not speaking of the propriety of this thing ; it may be all wrong, and these poor fellows in Paris, who have stout hands and willing hearts; anxious to earn their bread, may be very comfortable in fighting for it. It may be all wrong to cut off the head of a King or send him across the Channel. The problem of Free Government, as we call it, is not, it seems, yet solved. It may be highly improper and foolish in Austria and Germany to 436 LIVING ORATOR3 IN AMERICA. send away Metternich and say, ' We will look unto this business ourselves.' According to the doctrine preached in these halls -in free America instead of sending shouts of congratulation across the water to these people, we should send to them groans and commiseration for their folly, calling on them to beware how they take this business into their own hands informing them that universal liberty is a curse ; that as one man is born with a right to govern an Empire, he and his posterity (as Louis Philippe of Orleans maintained when he an- nounced that his son should sit on the throne when he left it) must continue to exercise that power, because in their case it is not exactly partes sequitur ventrum, but partes sequitur pater that is all the difference. [Laughter.] The Crown follows the father! Under your law the chain follows the mother! [Subdued manifestations of feeling.] " It was a law in the Colonies about '76 that Kings had a right to govern us. George Guelph then said ' partes sequitur par My son is born to be your ruler. And at the very time when Virginia lifted up her hand and appealed to the God of justice the common father of all men to deliver her from that accursed maxirn and its consequences, that one man was born as Jefferson said booted and spurred to ride another, it seems that by the Senator's account of it, she adhered to another maxim, to wit : that another man should be born to serve Virginia. I think this maxim of Kings being born to rule, and others being born only to serve, are both of the same family, and ought to have gone down to the same place ; hence, I imagine, they came, long ago, to- THOMAS CORWIN. 437 gether. I do not think that your partus sequitur ven- trem had much quarter shown it at Yorktown on a cer- tain day you may remember. I think that when the lion of England crawled in the dust, beneath the talons of your eagles, and Cornwallis surrendered to George Washington, that maxim, that a man is born to rule, went down, not to be seen among us again forever, and I think that partus sequitur ventrem, in the estimation of all sensible men, disappeared along with it. So the men of that day thought. And we are thus brought to the consideration of the proper interpretation of that lan- guage of those men which has been somewhat criticized by the Senator from South Carolina. What did they mean when they said in the Declaration oi* Independ- ence, that all men are born equally free? They had been contending that, if we on this side of the water were to be taxed by the Imperial Parliament of England, we had a right to say who should represent us in that Parliament. I need not refer gentlemen to the argu- ments then advanced. I need not refer the Senator from Virginia to his own local history, which informs him that, throughout the whole Revolutionary period, the people in all the shires and towns were meeting and passing resolutions, as that book of American Archives that you have authorized to be perpetuated, will show you, complaining to the Crown of England of the im portation of slaves into this country. And why did they complain ? Let their own documents tell their own story Then men in that generation, in Virginia, in Connecti cut as the Senator before me will see by referring tc that book in MS. everywhere throughout the Colo- 438 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. nies, said ' While we are contending for the common rights of humanity, against the Crown of England, it does not become us to enslave men and hold them in slavery.' They objected to the introduction of slaves into this country through the intervention of the slave-trade, be- cause it was a wrong perpetrated upon the slave himself, and especially because it prevented the settlement of the country by artizans, mechanics, and laboring husband- men. I venture the assertion that not three counties in the State of Virginia can be named in which resolutions of that character were not passed. " In 1784, not far from this Capitol, where we are now engaged in talking about the transfer of the slave-trade to the shores of the Pacific ocean, there was a meeting in Fairfax, at which one George Washington, Esq., pre- sided. Some young gentlemen may know something of him. He was a tobacco-planter, sir, at Mount Vernon. The resolutions passed on that occasion declared the in- tention of the meeting to refrain from purchasing any slaves, and their determination to have nothing to do with the slave-trade because the introduction of slaves into this country prevented its settlement by free whites. This, then, was the opinion in Virginia at that time ; and it was the opinion in Georgia too." Farther on, he remarks : " Thank God, though all should fail, there is an infalli- ble depository of truth, and it lives once a year for three months in a little Chamber, below us! We can go there. Now I understand my duty here to be, to ascer- tain what constitutional power we have, and when we have ascertained that, without reference to what the Su- THOMAS CORWIN. 439 preme Court may do for they have yet furnished no guide on the subject we are to take it for granted that they will concur with us If the Court does not concur with us, I agree with gentlemen who have been so lost in their encomiums upon that Court, that their decision whether right or wrong, controls no action. But we have not hitherto endeavored to ascertain what the Supreme Court would do. I wish then to ascertain in what mode this wonderful response is to be obtajned-^-not from that Delphic Oracle, but from that infallible divinity, the Su- preme Court. How is it to be done ? A gentleman starts from Baltimore, in Maryland, with a dozen black men who have been paries sequitur ventrum burnt into their skins and souls all over ; he takes them to Califor- nia, three thousand miles off. Now I don't know hov/ it may be in other parts of the world, but I know that in the State of Ohio it is ordained that the law is carried to every man's door. What then is the admirable contri- vance in this bill by which we can get at the meaning of the Constitution ? We pray for it, we agonize for it, we make a law for it, and that it may be speedily known for, if not speedily known, it may as well never be known ; if slavery goes there and remains there for one year, according to all experience, it is eternally. Let it but. plant its roots there, and the next thing you will hear of will be the earnest appeals about the rights of property. It will be said : ' The Senate did not say we had no right to come here. The House of Representa- tives, a body of gentlemen elected from all parts of the country on account of their sagacity and legal attain- ments, did hot prohibit us from coming here. I thought 440 LIVINB ORATORS OF AMERICA. I had a right to come here: the Senator from South Carolina said I had a right to come ; the Hon. Senator from Georgia said I had a right to come here ; his col- leagues said it was a right secured to me somewhere high up in the clouds and not belonging to the world ; the Senator from Mississippi said it was the ordinance of Almighty God ; am I not then to enjoy the privileges thus so fully secured to me ? I have property here ; several of my women have borne children, who have partus sequitur ventrem born with them ; they are my property.' Thus the appeal will be made to their fellow- citizens around them ; and it will be asked, whether you are prepared to strike down the property which the set- tler in those territories lias thus acquired ? That will be t.he case unless the negro from Baltimore, when he gets there and sees the Peons there slaves not by partus sequitur ventrem, but by a much better title a verdict before a Justice of the Peace should determine to avail himself of the admirable facilities afforded him by this bill for gaining his freedom. " Suppose my friend from New Hampshire when he goes home, gets up a meeting and collects a fund for the purpose of sending a missionary after these men ; and when the missionary arrives there he proposes to hold a prayer meeting, he gets up a meeting as they used to do in Yankee times, 'for the improvement of gifts.' He goes to the negro quarter of this gentleman from Balti- more, and says : ' Come, I want brother Cuffee ; it is true he is a son of Ham, but I want to instruct him that he is free.' I am very much inclined to think that the mis- sionary would fare very much as one did in South Caro- ' - THOMAS CORWIN. 41 J lina, at the hands of him of Baltimore. S;>, you see, the negro is to start all at once into a free Anglo-Saxon in California; the blood of Liberty flowing in every vein, and its divine impulses throbbing in his heart. He is to say : ' I am free ; I am a Californian ; I bring the right of habeas corpus with me.' Well, he is brought up on a writ of habeas corpus before whom ? Very likely one of those gentlemen who have been proclaiming that slavery has a right to go there ; for. such are the men that Mr. Polk is likely to appoint. He has prejudged the case. On the faith of his opinion the slave has been brought there : what can he do? There is his recorded judgment printed in your Congressional Report; what will he say ? ' You are a slave. Mr. Calhoun was right. Judge Berrien, of Ga., a profound lawyer, whom I know well, was right. I know these gentlemen well? their opinion is entitled to the highest authority, and in the face of it, it does not become me to say that you are free. So, boy, go to your master ; you belong to the class partus sequitur ventrem : you are not quite enough of a Saxon.' What then is to be done by this bill ? Oh ! a writ of error or appeal can come to the Supreme Court of the United States. How ? The negro, if he is to be treated like a white, taking out an appeal, must give bonds in double the value of the subject matter in dis- pute. And what is that ? If you consider it the mer- cantile value of the negro, it may be perhaps $1,000 or $2,000. But he cannot have the appeal according to this bill, unless the value of the thing in controversy amounts to the value of $2,000. But, then, there comes in this ideality of personal liberty: what is it worth? 19* * 442 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. Nothing at all says the Senator from South Carolina to this fellow, who is better without it. And under all this complexity of legal quibbling and litigation, it is ex- pected that the negro will stand there and contend with his master, and coming on to Washington, will prosecute his appeal two years before the Supreme Court, enjoy- ing the opportunity of visiting his old friends about Bal- timore!" One more quotation from this admirable speech must suffice : " I had almost believed, after hearing the beautiful, romantic, sentimental narration of the Senator from Mississippi; that God had indeed, as he said, made this people in Africa to come over here and wait upon us, till the Senator from Florida waked me up to a recollec- tion of the old doctrines of Washington and Jefferson, by assuring that wherever that patriarchal institution existed, a rigid police should be maintained, in order to prevent the old women from cutting the throats of somebody! It is then a very 'peculiar' institution! Those who live under it cannot exist a day without caresses ; and on the next, they must provide scores of constables with clubs in their hands, to keep them from cutting each other's throats ! " I do not wish to extend that institution into these Territories. Is it pretended that Slave labor could be profitable in Oregon or California. Do we expect to grow cotton and sugar there ? I do not know that it may not be done there ; for as the gentleman from New York has told us, just as you go west upon this conti- nent, the same line of latitude changes very much, so THOMAS CORWW. 443 that you may have a very different isothermal line as you approach the Pacific Ocean. But I do not care so much about that ; my objection is a radical one to the institution everywhere. I do believe, if there is any place on the globe which we inhabit where a white man cannot work, he has no business there. If that place is fit only for black men to work, let black men alone work there. I do not know any better law for man's good than that old one which was announced to man after the first transgression, that by the sweat of his brow he should earn his bread. I don't know what business men have in the world unless it is to work. If he is only to sleep and eat, he is reduced to the level of the hog the only gentleman I know ! " When you ask me, then, not to prohibit slavery in these territories, with my view of the institution itself, and of our power, I must assert the power to exclude slavery forever. In your States where you have made slavery property, you may protect it as you please, and I will aid you in giving it that security which the Con- stitution affords ; but, with God's help, not one inch beyond shall this institution go. I may be mistaken in all this ; but of one thing I am satisfied of the honest conviction of my own judgment and no supposed interruption of the ties which bind the various sections of the Confederacy shall induce me to shrink from these convictions, whenever I am called upon to carry them out into law." . Shakspeare may well be excused for seeking in the Roman senate what he knew all senates could furnish a buffoon. By this remark, we do not imply that Mr 444 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. Corwin bears that character. No man mingles more dignity with his wit, and no one can be more courteous in his severity. He is the incarnation of humor enno- bled by reason, and more than any other orator alive, abounds in those happy hits that "snatch a grace beyond the reach of art," as in the froth formed on the mouth of Jalysus' hound by a lucky dash from the sponge of Protogenes. His productions flow with a freedom and prodigality, as if they cost him nothing ; and this air of original animation is attended by a cor- respondent spirit of facile but accurate execution. Such properties will always attract attention, and com- mand admiration, despite palpable faults. It is of neces- sity a popular style. The freedom of its flow, the vividness of its colors, and energy of signification, contribute to excite and keep alive the most eager in- terest. The speaker appears to have perfect confidence in himself, and at once inspires his audience with the assured expectation of being regaled with both novelty and wisdom. The subjoined specimen is after Mr. -Corwin's more dignified and classical manner. It teems with the results of much reading, is imbued with high moral principle, and radiates with the most impressive elo- quence. It is taken from an early and famous speech he made in the Senate on the Mexican war : "Mr. President, this uneasy desire to augment our territory has deprared the moral sense, and blighted the otherwise keen sagacity of our people. What has been the fate of all nations who have acted upon the idea they must advance ? Our young orators cherish THOMAS CORWIN. 445 this notion with a fervid, but fatally mistaken zeal. They call it by the mysterious name of ' destiny.' ' Our destiny/ they say, ' is onward ;' and hence they argue, with ready sophistry, the propriety of seizing upon any territory and any people, that may lie in the way of our * fated' advance. Recently these progressives have grown classical ; some assiduous student of antiquities has helped them to a patron saint. They have wan- dered back into the desolated Pantheon, and there, among the Polytheistic relics of that ' pale mother of dead empires,' they have found a god, whom these Ro- mans, centuries gone by, baptized ' Terminus.' " Sir, I have read much, and heard somewhat of this gentleman, 'Terminus. Alexander, of whom I have spoken, was a devotee of this divinity. We have seen the end of him and his empire. It was said to be an attribute of this god, that he must always advance and never recede. So both republican and imperial Rome believed. It was, as they said, their destiny ; and for a while it did seem to be even so. Roman Terminus did advance. Under the eagles of Rome, he was carried from fils home on the Tiber, to the farthest East on one hand, and to the far West, among the then barbarous tribes of Western Europe, on the other. But at length the time came when retributive justice had become 'a destiny.' The despised Gaul calls out to the contemned Goth, and Attila, with his Huns, answers back the battle-shout to both. The 'blue-eyed nations of the North,' in succession of united strength, pour forth their countless hosts of warriors upon Rome and Rome's, always advancing god, Terminus. And now the battle- 446 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. axe of the barbarians strikes down the conq nering eagle of Rome. Terminus at last recedes ; slowly at first, but finally he is driven to Rome, and from Rome to By- zantium. Whoever would know the farther fate of this Roman deity, so lately taken under the patronage of American Democracy, may find ample gratification of his curiosity in the luminous pages of Gibbon's Decline and Fall. Such will find that Rome thought as you now think, that it was her destiny to conquer provinces and nations, and, no doubt, she sometimes said as you say, ' I will conquer a peace.' And where now is she the mistress of the world ? The spider weaves his web in her palaces; the owl sings his watch-song in her lowers. Teutonic power now lords it over ' the servile remnant, the miserable memento of old and once om- nipotent Rome. Sad, very sad, are the lessons which time has written for us. Through and in them all, I see nothing but the inflexible execution of that old law, which ordains as eternal the cardinal rule, ' Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods, nor anything which is his.' Since I have lately heard so much about the dis- memberment of Mexico, I have looked back to see how, in the course of events, which some call ' Providence,' it has fared with other nations, who engaged in this work of dismemberment. I see that in the latter half of the eighteenth century, three powerful nations, Rus- sia, Austria, and Prussia, united in the dismemberment of Poland. They said, too, as you say, 'It is our des- tiny.' They ' wanted room.' Doubtless each of these thought, with his share of Poland, his power was too strong e v er to fear invasion or even insuU. One had THOMAS CORWIN. 447 his California; another his New Mexico; and a third his Vera Cruz. Did they remain untouched and incap- able of harm ? Alas! no; far, very far from it. Ret- ributive justice must fulfil its destiny, too. A very few years pass off, and we hear of a new man, a Corsican Lieutenant, the self-named ' armed soldier of Democra- cy,' Napoleon. He ravages Austria, covers her land with blood, drives the Northern Caesar from his capital, and sleeps in his palace. Austria may now remember how her power trampled upon Poland. Did she not pay dear, very dear, for her California ? " But has Prussia no atonement to make ? You see this same Napoleon, the blind instrument of Providence, at work there. The thunders of his cannon at Jena proclaim the work of retribution for Poland's wrongs ; and the successors of the Great Frederick, the drill- sergeant of Europe, are seen flying across the sandy plains that surround their capital, right glad if they may escape captivity and death. But how fares it with the Autocrat of Russia ? Is he secure in his share of the spoils of Poland? No; suddenly we see, Sir, six hundred thousand armed men marching to Moscow. Does his Vera Cruz protect him now? Far from it. Blood, slaughter, desolation, spread abroad over the land, and finally, the conflagration of the old commer- cial metropolis of Russia closes the retribution she must pay for her share in the dismemberment of her weak and impotent neighbor. Mr. President, a mind more prone to look for the judgments of Heaven in the doings of men than mine, cannot fail in this to see the rovidence of God. When Moscow burned, it seemed 448 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. as if the earth was lighted up, that the nations might behold the scene. As that mighty sea of fire gathered and heaved and rolled upward, and yet higher, till its flames licked the stars, and fired the whole heavens, it did seem as though the God of the Nations was writing in characters of flame on the front of his throne, that doom that shall fall upon the strong nation which tram- ples in scorn upon the weak. And what fortune awaits him, the appointed executor of this work, when it was all done? . He, too, conceived the idea that his destiny pointed onward to universal dominion. France was too small Europe, he thought, should bow down before him. But as soon as this idea took possession of his soul, he, too, became powerless. His Terminus must recede, too. Right there, while he witnessed the humil- iation, and, doubtless, meditated the subjugation of Rus- sia, He who holds the winds in His fist, gathered the snows of the North, and blew them upon his six thou- sand men ; they died they froze they perished. And now the mighty Napoleon, who had resolved on uni- versal dominion, he, too, is summoned to answer for the violation of that ancient law, ' Thou shalt not covet anything which is thy neighbor's.' How are the mighty fallen ! He, beneath whose proud footsteps Europe trembled, he is now an exile at Elba, and now finally a prisoner on the rock of St. Helena and there on a barren island, in an unfrequented sea, in the crater of an extinguished volcano, there is the death-bed of the mighty conqueror. All his annexations have come to that ! His last hour is now come ; and he, the man of destiny, he who had rocked the world as with the throes THOMAS CDRVVIN. 449 of an earthquake, is now powerless still even as the beggar, so he died. On the wings of a tempest that raged with unwonted fury, up to the throne of the only Power that controlled him while he lived, went the fiery soul of that wonderful warrior, another witness to that eternal decree, that they who do not rule in right- eousness shall perish from the earth. He has found ' room ' at last. And France, she, too, has found ' room.' Her eagles now no longer scream along the banks oJ the Danube, the Po, and the Borysthenes. They have returned home to their old eyrie, between the Alps, the Rhine, and the Pyrenees. So shall it be with yours. You may carry them to the loftiest peaks of the Cor- dilleras they may wave in insolent triumph in the Halls of the Montezumas the armed men of Mexico may quail before them ; but the weakest hand in Mexico, uplifted in prayer to the God of justice, may call down against you a power, in the presence of which the iron hearts of your warriors shall be turned into ashes. " Mr. President, if the history of our race has estab- lished any truth, it is but a confirmation of what is written, ' The way of the transgressors is hard.' Inor- dinate ambition, wantoning in power, and spurning the humble maxims of Justice has ever has and ever shall end in ruin. Strength cannot always trample upon weakness the humble shall be exalted the bowed down will at length be lifted up. It is by faith in the law of strict justice, and the practice of its precepts, that nations alone can be saved. All the annals of the human race, sacred and profane, are written over with this great truth, in characters of living light. It is my 450 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. fear, my fixed belief, that in this invasion, this war with Mexico, we have forgotten this vital truth. Why is it that we have been drawn into this whirlpool of war ? How clear and strong was the light that shone upon the path of duty a year ago! The last disturbing question with England was settled our power extended its peaceful sway from the Atlantic to the Pacific ; from the Alleghanies we looked out upon Europe, and from the tops of the Stony Mountains we could descry the shores of Asia ; a rich commerce with all the nations of Europe poured wealth and abundance into our lap on the Atlantic side, while an unoccupied commerce of three hundred millions of Asiatics waited on the Pacific for our enterprise to come and possess it. One hundred milions of dollars will be wasted in this fruitless war. Had this money of the people been expended in making a railroad from our Northern Lakes to the Pacific, as one of your citizens has begged of you in vain, you would have made a highway for the world between Asia and Europe. Your capital then would be within thirty or forty days' travel of any and every point on the map of the civilized world. Through this great artery of trade, you would have carried through the heart of your own country the teas of China, and the spices of India, to the markets of England and France. Why, why, Mr. President, did we abandon the enter- prises of peace, and betake ourselves to the barbarous achievements of war ? Why did we forsake this fair and fertile field to batten on that moor ? " But, Mr. President, if further acquisition of terri- tory is to be the result either oi conquest or treaty, then THOMAS COR WIN. 451 I scarcely know which is to be preferred, eternal war with Mexico, or the hazards of internal commotion at home, which last, I fear, may come, if another pro- vince is to be added to our territory. * * * We stand this day on the crumbling brink of that gulf we see its bloody eddies wheeling and boiling before us shall we not pause before it be too late? How plain again is here the path, I may add the only way of duty, of prudence, of true patriotism ! Let us abandon all idea of acquiring farther territory, and, by consequence, cease at once to prosecute this war. Let us call home our armies, and bring them at once within our own acknowledged limits. Show Mexico that you are sin- cere when you say that you desire nothing by con- quest. She has learned that she cannot encounter you in war ; and if she had not, she is too weak to disturb you here. Tender her peace, and, my life upon it, she will then accept it. But whether she shall or not, you will have peace without her consent. It was your invasion that made war, your retreat will restore peace. Let us, then, close forever the approaches to internal feud, and so return to the ancient concord and the old ways of national prosperity and permanent glory. Let us here, in this temple consecrated to the Union, per- form a solemn lustration ; let us wash Mexican blood from our hands, and on these altars, in the presence of that image of the Father of his Country that looks down upon us, swear to preserve honorable peace with all the world, and eternal brotherhood with each other." We have presented a biogi aphical sketch of Thomas Corwin, and attempted to anaiyze his oratorical charac- 452 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. ter. It remains, briefly to describe his person, and this \ve will do by glancing first at his physical form, and then at his moral constitution. It is of great advantage for a public speaker to be en- dowed with what is called presence a commanding form and conciliating demeanor ; and this Mr. Corwin possesses to an eminent degree. " The eye is made the fool of the other senses, or else worth all the rest." An audience loves to repose its gaze upon him who ad- dresses them, reading dignity in his aspect as well as catching inspiration from his lips. Unfortunately many a fine intellect is shrouded in an uncouth body, looking "as if some of nature's journeymen had made them and not made them well." But not so with our orator. The graceful magnitude of his outer man comports with the compact and yet flexile firmness of the soul within. He is above medium height, of muscular make, agile limbs, and erect attitude. His features are full, ingenuous in their habitual expression, and not abso- lutely black. His brows are broad, open, and massy, the fit throne of mighty thought. Like his hair, his eyes are dark, clear, and piercing ; generally mild in their look, but sometimes filled with a deadly irony, which it is impossible to describe. In some burlesque lines on- the treatment of Regulus by the Carthagenians, the rhymester comes nearest to an exact description of Mr. Corwin's look when it is assumed : ' His eyelids they pared ; : how he stared !" In common conversation, and ip ordinary debate, THOMAS CORWIN. 453 Mr. Corvvin wears an aspect cheerful and attractive to the last degree ; but when dealing in fiery argument or stinging sarcasm, the language of his features exactly corresponds with his avowed sentiments and adds a fearful significancy to their force. A flash of exulta- tion often plays over his countenance when he observes how the winged shaft has taken effect, and with what tenacity it sticks to his writhing victim. The quiver or curl of his lip, the dropping of his chin, the fantastic rolling of his eyes, and the mock pathos of his tones as he utters some mortal sneer, is comical beyond con- ception except to those who have seen him speak. It is really astonishing with what distinctness he can say a given sentiment and look directly the opposite, and the side glance of his twinkling eye the unmistakable interpretation given by his facial muscles will contra- dict with overpowering drollery and emphatic eloquence the words that instant on his lips. In all such instances the effect is designed, and is a trait of power in this orator which no living master can approach. It is easy to perceive the triumph of sagacious humor in his look, even before he speaks : feats of exquisite sportiveness, in which pleasantry and utility are felicitously combined, and executed by the most perfect master of forensic mirth, creating roars of merriment in which all gravity is overwhelmed and the most demure risibtes convulsed. He will enunciate ridicule in a dry laugh, multiply it in a thousand extemporized wrinkles all over his sombre visage, suggest it in every form and direction through sardonic chuckles and twinkling looks, darting from his speaking face more fatal jests than are clothed m words,. 454 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. and yet embodying downright sarcasm in the plainest language enough to scarify any common skin. And yet, what is still more strange, there is no appearance of malice in all this. Mr. Corwin seeks no noisy ap- plause by his occasional bitterness, and the plaudits which continually attend the popular appreciation of his grotesque wit, as well as sterling argument, appear to afford him gratification only so far as comprehensive, beneficent, and enduring results are achieved. He seldom exasperates, though he always keenly excites ; there is so much courtesy mingled in all his severity, that the subject of his lash is obliged to laugh while he smarts. His pangs are mitigated, however, by the re- flection that they are inflicted by superior talent as magnanimous as it is keen, and not by harsh and un- couth imbecility. This is a grand consolation, since it is much more dignified and tolerable to endure the paw of a lion than the hoof of an ass. It should not be inferred from the above remarks, that Mr. Corwin's greatest forte lies in the use of small arms in forensic warfare. He is never so great as when he addresses himself to analytical reasoning and severe deduction. It is true he can play at will his virgin fan- cies wild ; he has mastered the great secret of nature, having learned her manner, and with rapture tasted her style; his bold imagination can skillfully touch the very limits which it dares not pass, careering with supreme dominion over all kingdoms of emotion and thought ; yet is he the most powerful and self-possessed when in the forum of rigid debate, dealing logic on fire all around. One of the first lawyers in Ohio has frequently assured THOMAS CORWIV. 455 the writer that Mr. Corwin excels all his acquaintances in the knowledge of mental philosophy and the science of legitimate argument. With Promethean power he can give life to the cumbrous mass of precedents accu- mulated by plodders, throw an intellectual splendor over images opaque to ordinary minds, and at the same time lay bare the soul of passion, as well as rivet conviction on the most stubborn understanding. His wit is that of a manly, independent spirit ; his cheerfulness that of a generous; feeling heart. His natural vitality of soul, Diogenes turn of dialectics, and inexhaustible humor, sustain his energy in all toils and render him fearful to all foes. He is a man "replete with mocks, full of com- parisons and wounding flouts ;" but the chief reason why -his protection is courted by the weak and dreaded by the mighty is, that behind lighter skirmishing, he plies mental artillery of the largest calibre and most destructive force. Alternate action and repose, playful squibbing and irresistible broadsides, afford their adroit possessor a versatility of power which few can either anticipate or resist. And yet nothing is more foreign from artificialness. His speech takes a natural growth, and his oratorical triumph is perfected much as Milton described : "So from the ground Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves More airy, last the bright consummate flower. " Having already passed in our description from the physical attributes of Mr. Corwin, to his intellectual and moral character, we will dwell yet a little longer on this 456 LIVING ORATORS IN AMERICA. last point. In his mental productions we see traits that correspond to the appearances of material elements and natural scenes, striking contrasts in form, color, light, and shadow ; sunbeams bursting through a small opening in a dark wood, a rainbow against a stormy sky, meadows fragrant and lovely with flowers on one hand, groves prostrated by tempests, and mountain peaks scathed by lightnings on the other. His style is insinuating and pungent, not abrupt or petulant, but full of those capti- vating transitions, which, while they surprise into more absorbing curiosity, seldom repel by acrimonious denun- ciation, but keep up an increasing interest, insensibly wind round the heart, and lead the judgment to convic- tion and repose. Having witnessed the effects of his address on a popular audience, you feel that his task was not executed by mechanical means, that he not only has taste, but genius and invention, and that his spirit, like Hotspur's, had "lent a fire e'en to the dullest peasant." That orator will have the greatest public power who lives nearest to infinity by throwing wide open all the avenues of his being to whatever is beautiful, and true, and grand around him. If ethereal tides swell and circu- late through every artery and vein, energizing his soul and clarifying his vision, his thoughts will be vivid like the fulminations of heaven, and his expressions will re- verberate in thunder tones, startling and distinct to every ear. Of this stamp is Thomas Corwin. He excels most statesmen, in this respect among many others he knows when to speak and when to be silent. That is the wisest of men, who not only can create superior works, THOMAS CORYV1N.