this is my sister Rosalie. This, sir,' addressing me, 'is the son of a
man whom I have often heard you admire, Mr. Sidney;' presenting a spare
young man of good figure, whose face seemed formed on the finest model
of antiquity, and whose large eye, of a soft deep blue, habitually
expanded, as if looking upon a wide and boundless surface, might well be
called an _eye of ocean_. He advanced with mild and graceful composure,
and saluted me with an unassuming modesty and politeness, blended at the
same time with a manly firmness, simplicity, and dignity, which gave me
the presentiment that he was a superior character."
After describing a conversation in which Van Tromp, Reynolds, Herbert,
and Sidney took part, the narrative continues:
"But Sidney's appeared to be the master-spirit; cool, collected, firm,
vigorous, and self-balanced, he stood, like an eagle upon the rocks of
Norway's coast, defying with equal composure the storm that raved and
rent the atmosphere above, and the surging element that towered and
dashed and roared below.
"This young man was really a prodigy. He was only two-and-twenty years
of age; yet his information seemed already to be universal. He spoke on
every science and every art like one of its ablest professors. There was
no broken lumber nor useless trash in his mind. The materials were all
of the best sort, and in the highest order. The stores of his knowledge
had been collected with so much reflection and hypothetical application,
and arranged in his memory with so much skill and method, that he would
call them into use at a moment's warning; and there was no point which
he wished to illustrate by analogy, or support by a precedent, for which
his memory did not supply him at once with the happiest materials.
"There were one or two important particulars in which he had a manifest
and striking advantage over the generality of young men. Where, for
instance, Herbert, Reynolds, and Van Tromp had, through indolence or
hurry, passed over the Gordian knots which had occurred in the course of
their studies, Sidney seems to have stopped, and sitten deliberately and
patiently down, resolved not to cut but to untie them before he rose, so
as not only to make himself master of the knowledge which they
concealed, but to discover also how the knot came to be tied; whether it
arose from the unavoidable difficulty of the subject, or from the want
of care or of intellectual strength in the author. Thus he trained and
practised his mind to grapple with difficulties and to subdue them; and
thus he gave to his penetration a point of adamant which no difficulty
could stop or turn aside.
"But, besides this temper of superior hardihood and vigor with which he
thus endued his mind, there was this further advantage from this
process: that his knowledge was much superior both in quantity and
accuracy. Sidney's course of study had resembled a cloudless day in
which all was light and every object visible, whether on hill, plain, or
in dale; whereas theirs resembled a coruscation by night, in which only
the most prominent objects are seen, and that, too, only by sudden and
transient glimpses. And hence, I remarked, that very often in the course
of their conversation, when they were under the eclipse of one of those
Gordian knots, lost in valleys, shade, and darkness, Sidney was in broad
and perfect day.
"It was owing, too, as I believe, to the ever-wakeful, intense, and
ardent action of the mind, as well as the collateral meditation and
study with which he had read, that his memory appeared to have possessed
a faculty of discriminating among the subjects offered to its retention,
and rejecting the incumbrance of what was worthless, to have seized and
holden with indissoluble tenacity everything that was useful, _together
with all its roots and ramifications_. He seems to have examined the
historical incidents with which he had met, with all that 'large, sound,
round-about sense,' as Mr. Locke calls it, which was necessary to
combine with it all its causes and consequences, and render it
practically useful to the purposes of life. I was several times struck
with the superior advantages which he derived from these details of
relative and antecedent with which he had recorded in his memory
historical facts. His fellow-students were acquainted with all the
prominent incidents of history; but not having examined them in all
their bearings, as they had read, and impressed them, _with all their
relations of cause and effect_, on their minds, it turned out that they
frequently attempted to borrow aid from historical incidents, which
Sidney, from his more intimate knowledge and mastery of the subjects,
was able to seize and drive back upon them like routed elephants upon
their own army.
"He surpassed them, too, in those powers which are derived from
mathematical study; the power of keeping continually in the mind's eye,
without winking or wavering, the distant proposition which is to be
proven; of advancing to it by steady steps on the shortest route; and
bearing up, with the strength of Atlas, the most extended and ponderous
chain of logical deductions. Such was the habitual steadiness and
strength of his mind, that, unlike his fellow-students, I never saw him
lose sight, for an instant, of the point in debate, much less shift that
point to something else; in advancing to it, I never saw him take one
devious step; nor did I ever see him at any moment oppressed or
entangled by the concatenation of his argument, or indicate even that he
was at all sensible of its weight.
"That there may have been something in the original organization of his
mind or temperament of his character, that qualified him, in a
preëminent degree, for cool, dispassionate, profound, and vigorous
exertion, I will not take upon me to deny; but that he owed much more of
his excellence to that secret and persevering labor to which he had so
nobly submitted, and by which he had given additional tone and power to
his mind itself, I am perfectly convinced. His mind did, now, indeed,
appear in itself the superior one; it had such a power of compression
and expansion, of versatility and strength, that it seemed capable of
anything and everything that he pleased. It was astonishing with what
rapidity and effect he would shift the color, shape, and attitude of the
same object as the emergencies of his argument required. With what
closeness and unanswerable cogency he would maintain truth! and with
what illusion and almost irrefutable sophistry he would disguise and
metamorphose error! At the first sound of the trumpet he could draw a
larger body of forces into the field in favor of an erroneous position
than his adversaries could in favor of a correct one; and even when on
the wrong side, which he seemed just as willing to be as he was to be on
the right, he was generally astute enough to drive his adversaries into
straits and keep the field himself in token of victory. Indeed the
spirit of enterprise and the consciousness of his strength led him
generally to prefer the wrong side to the right, and to support error
with more vivacity and appearance of enjoyment than he did truth. His
fault seemed to consist in the abuse of his strength; in that laxity of
colloquial morals (if I may use the phrase) of which I have, just
spoken, and which led him to triumph, with equal pleasure, in every
victory, right or wrong.
"There was, however, something still more unfortunate in this bold and
commanding character, but which I believe I should never have discovered
had I not endeavored to take the place of the public towards him, and
judge of him as I have seen them judge of others: I mean an apparent
frigidity of manner which I feared the world would consider as the
evidence of a cold and sordid heart.
"The man who is in possession of such talents as Sidney's, is in
possession of a most dangerous gift; and it behoves him to walk before
the public with a circumspection proportionate to the superiority of
those talents. Exorbitant power, whether intellectual or political,
naturally begets distrust and jealousy in the good as well as envy in
the wicked; and it requires on the part of its possessor a constant
display, not only of the most scrupulous integrity and sacred purity on
every occasion, great or small; but a constant display also of the most
disinterested generosity and public spirit, to give such a character
even fair play before the world. People must be satisfied that such an
one will not abuse his power to their injury, and sacrifice their
interests to his own; but that the strong and native tendency of his
character is to disregard his own interests entirely when drawn into
collision with theirs, before they will forgive him his superiority, and
trust themselves in his hands. To such a character, any appearance or
suspicion of coldness, or indifference towards the public good, and much
more any appearance or suspicion of uncommon devotion to self, however
fallacious such appearance or suspicion may be, is political death,
without the hope of resurrection. Such a character must lose sight of
self altogether, compared with the public, or the public will be very
apt to lose sight of him, or seeing, not to trust him. As to Sidney,
knowing him as I do, I know that those appearances of which I have
spoken are entirely fallacious; that his laxity in conversation is only
sportiveness; that his attention to his own interests does not surpass
the bounds of ordinary prudence; that, on a proper occasion, no man is
more charitable, generous, or munificent; none more alive to the
misfortunes and even solicitudes of a virtuous sufferer; that his
apparent coldness is the effect only of mental abstraction and of
judicious caution and reflection; and, in part, of that strong and
exhausting flame with which his friendship burns for those whom he
grapples to his heart. But the world at large can never have that
knowledge of him that I have; and, therefore, though I know that he
looks upon mankind with an eye of benevolence, and upon his country with
the spirit of a patriot; and though, in addition to this, he is
certainly capable of any and every thing that demands fidelity, zeal,
energy, industry the most unrelaxing, and talents the most transcendent;
yet much I fear his country will never know him well enough to do him
justice, or to profit herself of his powers."
SKETCH OF FRANCIS WALKER GILMER.
As the graphic portraiture of Mr. Wirt represents Mr. Tazewell in youth,
so the annexed sketch by Mr. Gilmer represents him as he was about to
retire from the bar. Mr. Gilmer himself was one of the most brilliant
young men Virginia ever produced. That Mr. Jefferson selected him to
choose in England the first professors of the University of Virginia--an
office which he performed with eminent skill and judgment--is a proof of
the estimate which was placed upon his talents by the first men of the
age.
The sketch of Mr. Tazewell is taken from a small volume of Mr. Gilmer's
productions, published in Baltimore in 1828, page 35.
"I hardly know what apology to make to LITTLETON W. TAZEWELL, of
Norfolk, for dragging his name from the obscurity which he seems to
court, but is unable to win. He has shrunk from the great national
amphitheatre, the Olympic games, where it is the glory of Mr. Pinkney to
challenge and to conquer, to an obscure sea-port town. But, more
confident in his powers than he is himself, I do not fear a comparison
with this veteran of the bar of the Supreme Court. His person may be a
little above the ordinary height, well-proportioned, and having the
appearance of great capacity to endure fatigue. His complexion is
swarthy, his muscles relaxed as from intense thought long continued. His
features are all finely developed. His eyes are large, full, and of a
dark blue color, shaded by thick black brows a little raised, as if
looking on a vast expanse of distant prospect. A manner firm, manly,
dignified, and free. _Vox permanens verum subrauca_; its tremulous and
occasionally interrupted accents give unusual tenderness to its tones.
But it is neither the Ciceronian person, nor the Chatham face, nor the
voice of Antony, that we are to admire in Mr. Tazewell. It is the great
and clear comprehension; the freshness and rapidity with which every
thing luxuriates on the generous soil of his mind, which is further
removed from even occasional sterility than in any one I have known.
This soil has no succession of seasons; the sun which warms it is never
for a moment obscured by cloud or eclipse; there reigns a bright, a
genial, a perpetual summer. His perceptions are as intuitive and as
strong as those of Judge Marshall. He has as much intrepidity of
intellect as Mr. Pinkney, and great boldness; but no insolence, no
exultation of manner. He wants only ambition to make him rival, nay,
perhaps even to surpass the accomplished champion of the federal bar.
His fault is subtlety, and a provoking minuteness of detail in his
argument. He sometimes shows legal and rhetorical artifice where there
is not the least occasion for either. These defects, however, have been
acquired in the long habit of addressing subordinate tribunals, where
his genius riots in its strength, and are so little connected with the
original organization of his mind as to be easily cured.
"There is something absolutely painful in reflecting on the destiny of
this extraordinary man. Endowed with the best and most various gifts I
ever knew concur in any individual; possessing a vast fund of
information, and indefatigable in whatever he undertakes; he has a
thousand times exhibited talents equal to any occasion, and is still
unknown to the world, and, until lately, was almost unheard of beyond
the limits of his native State. One may easily reconcile to his
philanthropy that "some mute, inglorious Milton" may rest in every
neglected grove, because it requires a strong effort of imagination to
suppose the clod of the valley ever to have been "pregnant with
celestial fire;" but we have not this comfort to allay our
mortification, when we see talents of the purest and brightest ray,
united to the noblest qualities of the human heart, emitting their
lustre in broad daylight, and to the public eye, unnoticed or forgotten.
The sentiment which it excites in one is not so much sympathy with the
object as regret for the public loss in not appreciating the rarest
gifts of Providence to man. The individual himself seems too elevated to
permit a vulgar pity. The world is too contemptible in his eyes to
render its praise or its censure matter of interest. Perhaps there is
something in this public indifference even congenial to one conscious of
the inexhaustible resources and the unconquerable power of his mind. The
eagle loves the awful solitude of her sublime cliffs, which remove her
far from the importunate chattering and impertinent intrusion of magpies
and daws; but it is truly a misfortune to the country that the imperial
bird should sleep on her lonely eyrie, and leave the supreme dominion to
region kites and mousing owls.
"I had long been curious to see the natural vigor, fertility, and
adroitness of Mr. Tazewell contrasted with the consummate art and
accomplished prowess of Mr. Pinkney; and participated in the public
disappointment, (as I must ever deplore the cause which produced it,)
when the death of Mr. Pinkney rendered it impossible, just at the moment
that the contest was to take place. But a few days before Mr. Pinkney's
death, (a circumstance which probably hastened it,) he had exerted
himself very much in the argument of a cause of great interest to his
client. Immediately the discussion was over, and while the accents of
that _cycnea vox_ reverberated in the ears of all who heard the last
effort of his eloquence, he began the preparation for his argument with
Mr. Tazewell. His application was too intense; his strength, and health,
and life, sunk under it; and they who hastened from a distance to
witness the competition, beheld anticipated victory and triumph turned
into a funeral procession: _O fallacem hominum spem, fragilemque
fortunam, et inanes nostras contentiones!_"
The reader will keep in mind that this sketch by Mr. Gilmer was written
nearly forty years ago, and before Mr. Tazewell appeared in the Senate
of the United States.
No. IV.
EXTRACTS FROM THE LETTERS OF MR. TAZEWELL RESPECTING PUBLIC OFFICE.
Mr. Tazewell kept no copies of his letters to his friends, and I make
the subjoined extracts, explanatory of his views respecting public
office, wholly from those in my own possession. I may state here that
when a commissioner was appointed to Kentucky, in 1823, Mr. Tazewell was
consulted on the subject by some of his friends in the General Assembly,
and he agreed to undertake the office; but when he heard that the
friends of Benjamin Watkins Leigh, his warm personal friend, desired the
appointment of that distinguished jurist, he sent a peremptory
withdrawal of his name, and urged the nomination of Mr. Leigh. When he
believed that the arbiters of the dispute between Kentucky and Virginia
would be chosen at large, he suggested the names of Jeremiah Mason of
New Hampshire, William Hunter of Rhode Island, and Langdon Cheves of
Philadelphia.
In a letter, dated January 1, 1823, he says: "I ask nothing from my
country, but there is nothing she should ever require of me in vain....
As a citizen of Virginia, I hold myself bound at all times to render any
aid which it may be within the compass of my poor abilities to offer in
furtherance of the rights, the interests, and even the wishes of its
government.... Proud as I should be at being selected as the advocate of
my country's rights by the unsolicited voice of her legislature, I could
not purchase even this gratification at the expense of any whom I love,
esteem, or admire."
Under the date of December, 1822, he writes: "If I know myself, there is
no situation within the power of government to bestow which I covet or
desire, nor is there one which I would not accept, if the discharge of
its duties by me was deemed necessary or useful to my country. I have no
ambition to gratify, although I have duties to fulfil."
Under the date of December 9, 1824, he says: "The public interest shall
never be postponed to my individual concerns, although ruin to myself
may result from it."
When once asked for something like a defence of some parts of his
political career, which he declined to give, he said: "There is no act
of my whole life, public or private, which I regret; none that I am
solicitous should not be scrutinized; none the motives or objects of
which I cannot instantly explain, in a way which candor will approve."
On the 1st of December, 1824, he writes: "If I know myself, there is no
office, place, or appointment within the gift of man which I wish, and
none I would accept save from my native State. To her I have never felt
myself at liberty to refuse myself under any circumstances, when she
thought proper to call me to her side. But even from her I want nothing
but that protection which she affords in common to all her citizens. My
gratitude would constrain me to sacrifice everything to obey her
wishes." On another occasion, when his creed was called for, he wrote:
"As a Virginian, I would willingly suffer this inconvenience and make
this sacrifice, and much more, for Virginia; but I should feel myself
unworthy of her name, if I did not scorn to stoop to the meanness of
blazoning to her view my own merits, which, if they exist at all, none
ought to know so well as my countrymen, or to vindicate myself against
suspicions which, if without foundation, they ought not to entertain. I
cannot, therefore, humiliate myself, or degrade my friends, so far as,
at this time of day, and under the circumstances in which I am placed,
to furnish you or any other with a confession of my political faith, to
be read either in the Richmond church or elsewhere, to the end that I
may propitiate its tutelary deity or his ministering priesthood; and as
this seems to be the _sine qua non_ of my success, I must, therefore,
beg leave to decline the nomination."
On the 6th of December, 1826, he writes: "I want no office, place, or
appointment under the sun, nor will I ever have any except from the gift
of my own State."
It thus appears that, though he was not desirous of holding office, he
was always willing and ready to perform at every sacrifice any duty
which Virginia might require at his hands.
I wish it had been in my power to present even a brief glance at the
labors of Mr. Tazewell, as one of the Commissioners under the Florida
treaty of 1819, when, in conjunction with the late Judge Hugh L. White
and Mr. King, some important questions were decided; but I had no
materials within reach while engaged in preparing the discourse; and my
recollections were too vague to be used on such an occasion.
No. V.
THE FUNERAL OF MR. TAZEWELL.
[From the _Norfolk Argus_, of May 8, 1860.]
The funeral obsequies of Mr. Tazewell, yesterday, were solemn and
impressive. An appropriate address was delivered by Rev. Mr. Rodman, of
Christ church, and a large concourse of persons followed the remains
from the family mansion on Granby street to the wharf, whence they were
taken to the Eastern Shore for interment.
Thus a very great man has passed away from our midst--a man who was long
and justly honored for his profound learning; surpassed by few, if any,
in any country. His mind was an immense and well-stored intellectual
repository, whence intelligence, varied, rich, and valuable, was drawn
at pleasure or as occasion required. Powerful as an orator, brilliant as
a writer, scarcely equalled in his knowledge of the great principles of
law, his irresistible grasp of intellect astonished thousands in former
days--bright and clear as "the cloudless azure of the upper sky."
The proceedings of the meeting of the members of the bar were very
appropriate. All the addresses were eloquent and impressive. The
speakers aptly mentioned his splendid and successful career as a lawyer,
his wonderful legal acquirements, and irresistible eloquence. One of the
gentlemen alluded to the fact that the merchant princes of London and
the priests of Rome were among those who sought his opinion upon great
and important questions, that had puzzled the astute statesmen of other
countries.
The last survivor of a noble intellectual triumvirate, of which Norfolk
could boast for a time, surpassing the models of antiquity in power and
splendor of forensic triumph, has passed away. That triumvirate is now
demolished. Taylor, Wirt, and Tazewell have all passed away; this last
and most polished shaft now dimmed--Tazewell--just now gone to the
grave, "venerable with the ivy of age, and eloquent of greater than
classic memories."
To state more particularly the details of the funeral, for future
reference--the religious services were held at the family residence on
Granby street, and a large number of our most respectable citizens were
present on the occasion. Among them were three of our adopted
fellow-citizens, who had been on terms of friendly intercourse with the
deceased for nearly sixty years, and who walked from their respective
abodes in the city to pay the last act of respect to his memory. The
eldest of these venerable men, GEORGE MCINTOSH, Esq., was in his
ninety-second year, and the others, WILLIAM H. THOMSON, Esq., and JOHN
SOUTHGATE, Esq., were over eighty years. When the religious services
were ended, a procession was formed, and the hearse was escorted to the
steamer Northampton, Captain McCarrick, and the coffin was placed on
board. The steamer then left for the county of Northampton, across the
bay of Chesapeake, having on board the Rev. Mr. Rodman and the Rev. Dr.
Okeson, of the Episcopal church, JOHN N. TAZEWELL, Esq., the only
surviving son of the deceased, three of the daughters of Mr. Tazewell, a
number of his grandchildren, the bar of Norfolk and its vicinity, and
many of our most venerable fellow-citizens. From accident, the steamer
did not reach the landing-place on the opposite shore till nearly dusk,
and when the corpse was taken on shore the night had gathered in, and
the burial service was read by candle-light. The last scene was one of
deep and impressive solemnity.