From the foregoing premises, the author deduces the conclusion, that the

free states of North America will increase in population more rapidly

than any other country has ever done, partly from emigration, and partly

from the unequalled facility of obtaining the comforts of life, by which

the numbers of mankind are regulated. The people, equally free from

political oppression, and the evils of abject poverty, such as scanty

nourishment, and crowded habitations, will at first make a rapid

progress in the useful, and subsequently, in the elegant arts, and more

abstract sciences. The freedom of their institutions will continually

offer every stimulus to the development of the features of independence,

and animate that spirit of intelligence, which always increases in

proportion to the freedom with which the human faculties are exercised.

Thence he proceeds to the supposition, that the states of South America

having attained to independence, will establish constitutional

governments similar to those of the North, whose example first

stimulated them to resistance to the mother country,--that this

similarity will naturally produce a close union of interest and policy

among all the states of the Western Continent, and that such a union

will give a death blow to the colonial system of Europe, at no distant

period.

The discovery and colonization of America, led to consequences which

re-modelled all Europe; and her emancipation from European thraldom

will, in like manner, force upon that portion of the world a new state

of things. _Europe, in her present situation, cannot do without

America,--while, on the other hand, America has no occasion for Europe._

America can, and will, therefore, become independent of Europe; but, in

the present state of things, Europe cannot become independent of

America. That almost universal empire which Europe attained by the

superiority of her intelligence,--by the tribute she exacted from every

other quarter of the globe, and by the superiority of her skill as well

as of her industry, cannot be sustained for a much longer period.

Wrapped up in a sense of his superiority, the European reclines at home,

shining in his borrowed plumes, derived from the product of every corner

of the earth, and the industry of every portion of its inhabitants, with

which his own natural resources would never have invested him, he

continues, as the author observes, revelling in enjoyments which nature

has denied him;--accustomed from his most tender years, to wants which

all the blessings and donations of the land and the ocean, produced

within the compass of his own quarter of the globe, are unable to

satisfy. While, therefore, the rest of the world has become tributary to

him, he, in return, has become dependent on it, by those wants,--the

supply of which, custom and education have made indispensably necessary.

America alone furnishes in a sufficient quantity those precious metals,

which constitute the basis on which the existing relations of all the

different classes of society, and indeed the whole concatenation of the

civil institutions of society in general, have been formed, and retained

to the present time. All the elements of modern splendour were derived

from her,--and it was her gifts to Europe, which changed almost all the

constituents of social life. The costly woods of the new world, banished

the native products of the old;--her cochineal and indigo furnish the

choicest materials for the richest dyes;--her rice is become an article

of cheap and general nourishment to the European world;--her cotton,

tobacco, coffee, sugar, molasses, cocoa and rum;--her numerous and

valuable drugs;--her diamonds and precious stones;--her furs, and, in

time of scarcity, the rich redundant stores of grain she pours forth

from her bosom, constitute so large a portion of the wants and luxuries

of Europe, that it is not too much to say, the latter is in a great

measure dependent upon America. A great portion of these cannot be

domesticated in the former, or produced in such quantities, as to supply

the demand which custom has made indispensable, nor upon such terms, as

would enable the people of Europe to indulge in their consumption. On

the contrary, experience has demonstrated, that all the natural

productions of Europe, its olives, and even its boasted vines, can be

naturalized in some one of the various regions of this quarter of the

globe, which comprehends in itself every climate and every soil. There

is not the least doubt, that, when the habits of the people, or the

interests of the country point to such a course, all these will be

produced in sufficient quantities, not only for domestic use, but

foreign exportation.

America, thus standing in need of none of the natural productions of

Europe, and possessing within herself much more numerous, as well as

precious gifts of nature, than any other quarter of the globe, will soon

be able to dispense with the products of foreign industry. Whenever she

can command the necessary stock of knowledge, and a sufficient number of

industrious hands, which emigration, aided by her own increasing

population, will soon place at her disposal, this will inevitably take

place. Where there exist materials, and understanding to use them, the

freedom of using them at pleasure, and security in the enjoyment of the

fruits of labour, the spirit of enterprise is inevitably awakened into

life and activity, and with it must flourish every species of

industry:--

"North America," observes the author, "at the commencement

of her revolution, found herself nearly destitute of all

mechanical resources and means of resistance,--whereas now

she possesses fortifications, and plenty of military

supplies of all kinds, with the means of multiplying them,

as occasion may require. She has already formed an

efficient, spirited and increasing navy, which will before

long dispute the empire of the seas; she is complete

mistress of the several branches of knowledge, and contains

within herself all the mechanical institutions requisite for

the increase and maintenance of these things. She can equip

an army or a navy, without a resort to Europe, for the most

insignificant article."

The author then goes on to express an opinion that the complete

emancipation of South America, which he anticipates as soon to happen,

will lead to similar results, in that portion of the continent, and

produce an entire and final independence, political as well as

commercial. He does not pretend to designate the precise period in which

this will take place, but confines himself to the assertion, that in the

natural and inevitable course of things, it must and will happen, after

a determined opposition from European jealousy.

An inquiry is then commenced, into the possibility that Europe will be

enabled to supply the loss of America, by means of new connexions with

the other quarters of the globe. If she cannot procure a new market for

her surplus manufactures, how is she to acquire the means of purchasing

those productions of the new world, which have become indispensable to

her existence, in the sphere she has hitherto occupied? To do this she

must not only retain in their fullest extent, all the remaining branches

of her commerce, but obtain others, by entering into new connexions with

Asia and Africa, and colonizing new regions. To do this, not only does

the necessary energy seem wanting, but Europe will have to encounter the

competition of America, with all our unequalled celerity of enterprise,

and all our rapidly increasing powers of competition. She is much more

likely to lose her remaining colonies than to acquire new ones; and it

approaches to an extreme degree of probability, that she will be driven

from many of her accustomed branches of commerce, by the superior energy

and enterprise of America, rather than obtain new marts for her

manufactures. Already the North American cottons are finding their way

to India, and banishing the productions of the British looms from the

markets of the southern portion of this continent. The trade to China is

already assuming an entire new character, and will probably before long

be carried on without the instrumentality of Spanish dollars.

We think the positions of our author are eminently entitled to

consideration. The situation of a part of the continent of America,

south of the Isthmus of Darien, is much more favourable to a commercial

intercourse with Asia, western Africa, than that of Europe. The coast of

Guinea can be much more easily visited from Caraccas, Cayenne, and

Surinam, than from any portion of Europe; and the Cape of Good Hope,

lying directly to the east of the great river La Plata, is much better

adapted to an intercourse with Rio Janeiro, and Buenos Ayres, than any

of the Dutch or English colonies. The Isles of France, Bourbon, and

Madagascar, situated between the Cape of Good Hope, and the eastern

coast of Africa, are much more suited to a communication with the new

states of South America, than with the mother countries. Such is the

case with the Philippine islands, New-Holland, the Marquesas, the

Friendly and Society islands. The geographical relations between all

these, and different portions of South America, sufficiently indicate

that when the reins shall have fallen from the hands of Europe, the

intercourse will in a great measure change its course, and centre in the

new instead of the old world.

The principle, we are aware, has been assumed, that whatever state

supports the most powerful navy for the protection of its commerce, will

always take the lead. But it hardly now remains a question, whether the

states of the new world will not be able ere long, to direct trade into

the free channel which nature herself seems to point out for all

nations, but which the exorbitant naval power of one has forced into

artificial and circuitous directions.

Europe will not for ever be able to wield the trident of the seas, nor

sway the sceptre of intellectual superiority. There is a time for all

things. There was a time when she borrowed her arts, her literature, her

refinements, and her civilization, from Asia. These are for ever passing

from one nation, and from one continent to another. The descendents of

Europeans in the new world, have not degenerated, and possessing as they

do as many advantages of situation as were ever enjoyed by any people

under the sun, with as great a field for their exercise as was ever

presented for human action, it would be departing from the natural order

of things, and the ordinary operations of the great scheme of

Providence; it would be shutting our ears to the voice of experience,

and our eyes to the inevitable connexion of causes and their effects,

were we to reject the extreme probability, not to say moral certainty,

that the old world is destined to receive its impulses in future, from

the new. Already we see the bright dawnings of this new relation, in the

universal diffusion of the spirit of emancipation, first sought in the

wilds of America. It was there that was first lighted that spark which

is now animating and stimulating the nations of the old world to become

free and happy like ourselves. The unshackled genius of the new world is

now exerting itself with gigantic vigour, aided by the infinite

treasures of nature, to strengthen its powers, increase its commerce,

its resources, and its wealth. No other quarter of the globe, much less

a single nation, will eventually be able to dispute the empire of the

seas, with the new world.

We shall devote the remainder of this article to a consideration of

events which have occurred in Europe since the publication of the work

before us, which richly merits a better translation, as well as a

republication in this country. This course is necessary to our purpose,

although it is our humble opinion, that the writers and publications of

this country, give a disproportionate attention to the affairs of other

people, and of consequence, neglect our own. Let us look to ourselves;

preserve the purity of the national manners and institutions--foster our

natural and accidental advantages, and observe, and gather lessons of

wisdom as well as moderation from the folly and excesses of rulers and

people in the old superannuated world. Above all, let us ever bear in

mind and continue to act upon the sentiment of Daniel Webster, and be

careful that "_while other nations are moulding their governments after

ours, we do not break the pattern_."

The present state of Europe, we think, offers additional probabilities

to the theory laid down in the work of the Danish philosopher. Two great

principles are now approaching to a struggle, which will, in all human

probability, ere long, produce not only wars, but the worst of wars,

internal dissensions, aggravated by external struggles with foreign

powers. Although the principle of emancipation is common to the

revolution of America, and the revolutionary spirit now at work in

Europe, all other circumstances are essentially different. With us, it

was throwing off a dominion seated at a vast distance beyond the seas,

and only known among us by its representatives. In Europe, on the

contrary, it is a central power existing in the heart, and pervading

every portion of the body politic. A revolution then, must overturn

thrones, church establishments, standing armies, hereditary orders, and

prejudices hallowed by ages of reverence and submission. The whole frame

and organization of society must be dissolved, changed into new

elements, and be arranged into new forms.

The enemies of _statu quo_, and the genius of change, are now arraying

their respective powers, and in proportion as the people have been

debarred from all participation in the government, will be their ardour

to govern without controul. Such a struggle cannot end in a day, or in a

year,--nor will it be decided in all probability, except through a long

series of gradations, which will finally rest at last on a basis

suitable to the present state of the human mind. We cannot, therefore,

but anticipate heavy times for Europe. A long course of internal and

external wars, is fatal to the great interests of a state. Commerce

decays, and seeks other more peaceful climes--agriculture is robbed of

its labourers, and of the products of labour, to recruit and feed the

armies,--and manufacturers are deprived of their foreign purchasers. The

powers of the intellect, too, are diverted from the pursuits of science

and literature, into the bloody paths of warfare,--and thus it has ever

happened, that a long continuance of national struggles, produces a

neglect of the arts of peace, and an approach to barbarism.

Insecurity of property is one of the inevitable consequences of civil

wars. The products of the land are the common stock of plunder for both

parties, and the land itself becomes a prey to confiscation. At this

day, a vast portion of the wealth of Europe is vested in stocks, which

are still more fatally operated upon by civil wars. Their value, in

fact, becomes, in such a state of things, merely nominal; and it depends

upon the success of one or other of the parties in the struggle, whether

they again attain to their original prices, or become worthless. Such a

crisis seems fast approaching in Europe. When once the conflicting

elements of anarchy and despotism commence their warfare, who shall say

where and when it will end? Prophecy, in this case, would be

presumption,--when it does end, the result will be equally uncertain.

Whether a chastened freedom, guarantied by a fair representation of the

people in the governments, a despotism without limits, or an anarchy

without controul, is beyond the reach of human foresight to predict.

One thing, however, we think, is certain. This unsettled state of life,

liberty and property, in Europe, will produce a vast accession of wealth

and population in the new world, and accelerate its progress to the

sceptre of intellect and power, hitherto, for so long a time, wielded by

the old. The neighbouring nations of Europe, being all nearly in the

same state of internal insecurity, afford no safe refuge to fugitives or

property, from each other--even if their national antipathies did not

present a barrier to emigration. The United States, on the contrary,

with nothing to disturb their tranquillity, but the peaceable struggles

of an election, and stretching out a hand of welcome to all nations, and

all ranks of mankind, from the exiled monarch to the mechanic or

peasant, coming in search of employment and bread, will present a safe

deposit for the wealth of Europe,--a sanctuary where the persecuted, the

harassed, and the timid spirit, may find repose from the storms that vex

his native land.

Thus, to our native energy, intelligence, and resources, will be added a

large portion of those of the other quarter of the world, and the united

result, in all human probability, _must_ be the fulfilment of the great

prophecy, that the empire of the world was travelling towards the

setting sun. The sceptre will depart from the east, and be wielded by

the west. Power, dominion, science, literature, and the arts, hitherto

the satellites of despotism, will become the bright and beautiful

handmaids of a brighter goddess than themselves, and the glory of

Europe, like that of Asia, be preserved in her history and her

traditions.

The anticipation is as rational as glorious to an American. Look at the

state of Europe once more, and separate it into its constituent parts.

Let us begin with France. What has she gained by her revolution of July

but a branch of the same tree, in the room of the rotten trunk? Has she

won freedom or repose? Not even the freedom of complaint,--nor any other

repose, but the repose of the National Guards. What is the cry of the

people of Paris? Not liberty alone, but "give us employment and bread."

Thus irritated by a feeling of disappointment on one hand, and goaded on

by hunger, can they stop where they are? Certainly not; it is not in the

nature of man, nor the nature of things. Two such impulses can only be

satisfied by the grant of their demands, and only quelled by force.

Look at the great rival of France on the opposite side of the channel.

The same mighty evils are at work there--discontent aggravated by

hunger. At the moment we are writing, a question is depending in the

Parliament of England, which agitates the island to its centre, and the

decision of which, either one way or other, is acknowledged by both

parties to amount to the signal of a revolution. The opponents of the

Bill of Reform maintain, that, if carried, it will destroy the basis of

the government; and the advocates assert, that, if not carried, it will

produce a revolution, originating in the disappointment and indignation

of the people.

Will the aristocracy of England--the most wealthy and powerful

aristocracy in the world--voluntarily, and without a mighty struggle,

divest themselves of one of their chief sources of power in the state.

Will they sacrifice their parliamentary influence, which constitutes one

of the regular modes and means of providing for younger sons and poor

relations? Nay, which enables them to dictate to their sovereign? We

believe not. Will the people remain quiet under the disappointment of

their newborn hopes, aggravated as it will be by poverty and distress,

among so large a number? Perhaps they will, so long as there is an army

of sixty or eighty thousand men, disposed so happily for the protection

of order in the _United_ Kingdom, that every breath of discontent is met

by a bayonet. But let the monarchs who maintain _order_ in Europe, by

means of standing armies, recollect the lesson of history, which teaches

us, that throughout all ages, and countries, the power which sustained

the throne by force, in the end by force overthrew it. There is but one

solid permanent support of power, and that is, the attachment of the

people.

In the present state of Europe, we incline to the opinion that the

safest course for kings to take, would be to identify themselves with

the people, and become the organs of their wishes. We see no other means

for the present King of England to make head successfully against the

weight of the opposition of the church and nobility, in case he

decisively sustains the present ministry in their plans of parliamentary

reform, than to make common cause with his people, and say to them

honestly, "I have become your champion, do you become my supporters."

The government of England is acknowledged on all hands to be a mixed

government of king, lords, and commons. Who represents the commons of

England? The House of Commons. But can it do this effectually, while a

large portion of the members are returned by the House of Lords? We

should think not. The spirit and purity of the system can only be

preserved by the commons, and the commons alone, selecting their

representatives in their own house, and not the nobility. Does the House

of Commons interfere in the same way in the creation of the members of

the House of Lords? They have no voice or influence in the business.

Why, then, should the House of Lords interfere in the election, or

appointment rather, of the members of the House of Commons? In this

point of view, therefore, we can perceive no sort of foundation for the

argument of the opponents of reform, that the measure will operate to

destroy the balance of the government. We rather think it will restore

the balance, and bring it back to the true old theory of three distinct

powers--king, lords, and commons.

We believe that the people will be satisfied with this reform for a

time, if it take place. When they shall see, as no doubt they will see,

that the burthens of the state, and consequently their own, remain the

same, or perhaps increase with the increase of those who require relief,

and the decrease of those who are able to bestow it; when they shall

find that a reform in Parliament will not give them liberal wages, or

feed their suffering families, then will they become more dissatisfied

than ever. Then, too, will the result disclose where the shoe of reform

pinched the opponents of reform. The increased representation of the

people will then enable the people to _make_ themselves heard and felt,

and to force the government into measures that may indeed destroy the

constitution of England, if there be any such invisible being. Whichever

way we look, therefore, we perceive the same causes of discontent, the

same spirit of emancipation at work, that agitates the continent of

Europe; and so long as this state of things continues, it requires no

spirit of prophecy to predict, that England, so far from advancing in

power or intelligence, will, in all probability, invincibly slide from

the summit of power, and become the victim of internal weakness at last.

The state of Holland and Belgium, of Italy and Germany, and Russia and

Prussia, and Spain and Poland, is still more unfavourable to arts,

science, commerce, literature, and agriculture. The rulers are employed

in schemes for keeping the people in subjugation, and the people in

wresting the promised privileges from their rulers. In such a state of

things, the one party has no time to devise schemes for enriching or

enlightening the people, but is employed, on the contrary, in placing

them, as far as possible, in ignorance and poverty. The other is so

taken up with politics, that its habits of economy, steadiness, and

enterprise, are forgotten by degrees in the whirlpool of turbulent

excitement. Each and all of these countries, with the exception perhaps

of Russia, instead of advancing, will gradually recede in wealth and

intelligence, not only from internal dissensions, but on account of the

large portion of both, that will from time to time, as long as this

state of things shall last, direct its course to the new world.

The change from old to new times; from the inapplicable maxims of the

past, to the practical truths of the present, has, every where, and in

all past ages, been a period of suffering to the human race. The

approaches to this state of regeneration, are marked by turbulent

disaffection on one hand, inflexible severity on the other; its progress

is marked by the dissolution of the social ties, and its crisis with

blood and tears. The people have to encounter the most formidable

difficulties, under which they probably sink many times, before they

rise at last and make the great successive effort. These evils are

aggravated and perpetuated as long as possible, by the stern inflexible

rigidity of old-established institutions, worthless in proportion to

their obstinacy, aided by the blind besotted pride of kings, who seem

never to have learnt the lesson of yielding to the changes produced by

time and circumstance, and sacrificing gracefully, what will otherwise

be taken from them by force.

But all that is great, or good, or valuable, in this world, must be

attained by labour, perseverance, courage, and integrity. Liberty is too

valuable a blessing to be gained or preserved without the exercise of

these great virtues. It must have its victims, and its charter must be

sealed with blood. A people afraid of a bayonet, are not likely to be

free while Europe swarms with standing armies, having little or no

community of interests or feeling with those who maintain them by the

sweat of their brow. When the oppressed states of Switzerland, sent

forth patriots who made a breach in the forest of German bayonets

opposed to them, by circling them in their arms, and receiving them into

their bosoms, they deserved to be free--they became free, and their

liberties are still preserved. But so long as a host often thousand

brawling and hungry malcontents, can be quieted and dispersed by the

sound of a bugle, the clattering of a horse's hoofs, or the glittering

of a musket barrel, can such people expect to be free? Assuredly not, we

think. No where will despotism or aristocracy peaceably resign their

long established preponderance without a struggle, and like our own

revolution, the contest will at last come to the crisis--"_we must

fight, Mr. Speaker, we must fight_," as said the intrepid Patrick

Henry,--and we did fight. So must Europe if it expects emancipation. All

the governments of that quarter of the globe, are now sustained by a

military force--and by force only can they be overthrown or modified, to

suit the great changes which have taken place in the feelings and

relative situation of the different orders of society.

That the present state and future prospects of that renowned and

illustrious quarter of the globe, are ominous of a continued succession

of storms and troubles, we think appears too obvious. The night that is

approaching, will be long and dark, in all human probability--it may end

in a total regeneration--in a confirmed and inflexible despotism; or in

that precise state of things which characterized what are called, the

dark ages of Europe--in the establishment of a hundred petty states,

governed by a hundred petty tyrants, eternally at variance, and agreeing

in nothing but in oppressing the people. Great standing armies are at

present the conservators of the great powers of Europe, and public

sentiment is no longer the sole or principal cement of empires; when

these are gone, as they must be, ere the nations which they oppress can

be free, then all the little sectional and provincial jealousies and

antipathies, every real or imaginary opposition of interests, and even

feelings of personal rivalry, will have an opportunity of coming into

full play, and the result may very probably be, the erection of a vast

many petty states, which will never be brought to act together in any

great system of policy. Thus situated, they will never be able to make

head against the growing power of the vast states of the new world,

which whatever may be their minor causes of difference, will naturally

unite in those views of commercial policy, which being common to all,

will be sought by a common effort.

The South American states, it is true, have not yet realized the

blessings of emancipation, partly owing to their inexperience in the

practical secrets of civil liberty; partly to the want of public virtue

in the people, and their rulers, and partly, as we are much inclined to

suspect, to the secret intrigues of more than one European power. But

their natural and inevitable tendency is, we believe, towards a stable

government, combining a complete independence of foreign powers, with

such a portion of civil liberty as may suit their present circumstances

and situation. They are serving their apprenticeship--they will soon be

out of their time, and may safely set up for themselves.

But, however doubtful may be the final result of the great struggle

between the kings and the people--or of the aristocracy and the

people--for this seems to be the real struggle after all--whatever may

be its final result, one thing is certain as fate. While it continues,

it must inevitably arrest the prosperity of Europe, such as it is, and

force it to retrograde for a time. Instead of devoting their attention

to the interests of the nation abroad, and encouraging the industry and

intelligence of the people at home, kings will be employed in watching

and restraining their subjects. Fearing the intelligence and wealth, as

the means of increasing their discontents as well as their power, they

will seek to diminish both by new restraints or new exactions; and thus

the best ends of government will be perverted to purposes of ignorance

and oppression. This is the history of the degradation, and consequent

internal weakness of all nations, and a perseverance in such a course in

Europe, will only afford another example, that the same effects proceed

from similar causes, every where, and at all times.

In the mean while, as oppression, civil wars, internal disaffection,

anarchy, and expatriation of wealth and numbers, all combined, are

gradually undermining the strength of Europe, and draining her veins,

the new world will be, in all human probability, every day acquiring

what the old is losing. If she once pass the other, if it be only by the

breadth of a single hair, it is scarcely to be anticipated that age and

decrepitude will ever be able to regain the vantage ground, against the

primitive energies of vigorous youth. Once ahead, and the new world will

remain so, until the ever revolving course of time, and the revolutions

it never fails to accomplish, shall perhaps again transfer to Asia the

sceptre of arts, science, literature, power, and dominion, which was

wrested from her by Europe.

To realize these bold anticipations, nothing seems necessary but for the

people of the United States to bear in mind, that they are the

patriarchs of modern emancipation--that the spark which animates the

people of Europe was caught from them--that they led the way in the

_great common cause of all mankind_--that the eyes of the world are upon

them--and that they stand under a solemn obligation to do nothing

themselves, to suffer their leaders to do nothing, which shall bring the

sacred name of liberty into disgrace, or endanger the integrity of our

great confederation. "_While other nations are moulding their

governments after ours, may we not destroy the pattern._"

[Footnote 4: Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts, Vol. I, pages 84,

85.]

ART. VII.--_Speeches and Forensic Arguments, by_ DANIEL

WEBSTER: 8vo. pp. 520. Boston: 1830.

It has often enough been objected to books written and published in the

United States, that they want a national air, tone, and temper.

Unhappily, too, the complaint has not unfrequently been well founded;

but the volume before us is a striking exception to all such remarks. It

consists of a collection of Mr. Webster's Public Addresses, Speeches in

Congress, and Forensic Arguments, printed chiefly from pamphlets,

already well known; and it is marked throughout, to an uncommon degree,

with the best characteristics of a generous nationality. No one, indeed,

can open it, without perceiving that, whatever it contains, must have

been the work of one born and educated among our free institutions,--formed

in their spirit, and animated and sustained by their genius and power.

The subjects discussed, and the interests maintained in it, are entirely

American; and many of them are so important, that they are already

become prominent parts of our history. As we turn over its pages,

therefore, and see how completely Mr. Webster has identified himself

with the great institutions of the country, and how they, in their turn,

have inspired and called forth the greatest efforts of his uncommon

mind, we feel as if the sources of his strength, and the mystery by

which it controuls us, were, in a considerable degree, interpreted. We

feel that, like the fabulous giant of antiquity, he gathers it from the

very earth that produced him; and our sympathy and interest, therefore,

are excited, not less by the principle on which his power so much

depends, than by the subjects and occasions on which it is so strikingly

put forth. We understand better than we did before, not only why we have

been drawn to him, but why the attraction that carried us along, was at

once so cogent and so natural.

When, however, such a man appears before the nation, the period of his

youth and training is necessarily gone by. It is only as a distinguished

member of the General Government,--probably in one of the two Houses of

Congress, that he first comes, as it were, into the presence of the

great mass of his countrymen. But, before he can arrive there, he has,

in the vast majority of cases, reached the full stature of his strength,

and developed all the prominent peculiarities of his character. Much,

therefore, of what is most interesting in relation to him,--much of what

goes to make up his individuality and momentum, and without which,

neither his elevation nor his conduct can be fully understood or

estimated, is known only in the circle of his private friends, or, at

most, in that section of the country from which he derives his origin.

In this way, we are ignorant of much that it concerns us to know about

many of our distinguished statesmen; but about none, probably, are we

more relatively ignorant than about Mr. Webster, who is eminently one of

those persons, whose professional and political career cannot be fairly

or entirely understood, unless we have some acquaintance with the

circumstances of his origin, and of his early history, taken in

connection with his whole public life. We were, therefore, disappointed,

on opening the present volume, not to find prefixed to it a full

biographical notice of him. We were, indeed, so much disappointed and

felt so fully persuaded, that neither the contents of the volume itself,

nor the sources of its author's power, nor his position before the

nation, could be properly comprehended without it, that we determined at

once to connect whatever we should say on any of these subjects, by such

notices of his life, as we might be able to collect under unfavourable

circumstances. We only regret that our efforts have not been more

successful,--and that our notices, therefore, are few and imperfect.

Mr. Webster was born in Salisbury, a farming town of New-Hampshire, at

the head of the Merrimack, in 1782. His father, always a farmer, was a

man of a strongly marked and vigorous character,--full of decision,

integrity, firmness, and good sense. He served under Lord Amherst, in

the French war, that ended in 1763; and, in the war of the Revolution,

he commanded a company chiefly composed of his own towns-people and

friends, who gladly fought under his leading nearly every campaign, and

at whose head he was found, in the battle of Bennington, at the White

Plains, and at West-Point, when Arnold's treason was discovered. He died

about the year 1806; and, at the time of his death, had filled, for many

years, the office of Judge of the Court of Common Pleas, for the state

of New-Hampshire.

But, during the early part of Mr. Webster's life, the place of his

birth, now the centre of a flourishing and happy population, was on the

frontiers of civilization. His father had been one of the very first

settlers, and had even pushed further into the wilderness than the rest,

so that the smoke sent up amidst the solitude of the forest, from the

humble dwelling in which Mr. Webster was himself born, marked, for some

time, the ultimate limit of New England adventure at the North.

Undoubtedly, in any other country, the sufferings, privations, and

discouragements inevitable in such a life, would have precluded all

thought of intellectual culture. But, in New England, ever since the

first free school was established amidst the woods that covered the

peninsula of Boston, in 1636, the school-master has been found on the

border line between savage and civilized life, often indeed with an axe

to open his own path, but always looked up to with respect, and always

carrying with him a valuable and preponderating influence.

It is to this characteristic trait of New England policy, that we owe

the first development of Mr. Webster's powers, and the original

determination of his whole course in life; for, unless the school had

sought him in the forest, his father's means would not have been

sufficient to send him down into the settlements to seek the school. The

first upward step, therefore, would have been wanting; and it is not at

all probable, that any subsequent exertions on his own part, would have

enabled him to retrieve it. The value of such a benefit cannot, indeed,

be measured; but it seems to have been his good fortune to be able in

part, at least, to repay it; for no man has explained with such

simplicity and force as he has explained them, the very principles and

foundations on which the free schools of New England rest, or shown,

with such a feeling of their importance and value, how truly the free

institutions of our country must be built on the education of all. We

allude now to his remarks in the Convention of Massachusetts, where,

speaking of the support of schools, he says:--

"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 principle, 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 question, whether he, himself, have or have

not children to be benefited 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 to 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 increasing 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 principled 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 government rests

directly on the public will, that we may preserve it, we

endeavour 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." pages 209,

210.

"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 blessings of

religious instruction and the elements of knowledge. 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." p. 211.

How Mr. Webster's education was advanced immediately after he left these

primary schools, is, we believe, not known. It was, however, with great

sacrifices on the part of his family, and severe struggles on his own.

At last, when he was fifteen or sixteen years old, after a very

imperfect preparation, he was entered at Dartmouth College; at least, so

we infer, for he was graduated there in 1801. What were his principal or

favourite pursuits during the three or four years of his academic life,

we do not know. We remember, however, to have met formerly, one of his

classmates, who spoke with the liveliest interest of the generous and

delightful spirit he showed among his earliest friends and competitors,

in the midst of whom, he manifested, from the first, aspirations

entirely beyond his condition, and, when the first year was passed,

developed faculties which left all rivalship far behind him. Indeed, it

is known, in many ways, that, by those who were acquainted with him at

this period of his life, he was already regarded as a marked man; and

that, to the more sagacious of them, the honours of his subsequent

career have not been unexpected.

Immediately after leaving college, he began the study of the law in the

place of his nativity, with Mr. Thompson, soon afterwards a member of

Congress; a gentleman who, from the elevation of his character, was able

to comprehend that of his pupil and contribute to unfold its powers. But

the _res augustae domi_ pressed hard upon him. He was compelled to exert

himself for his own support; and his professional studies were

frequently interrupted and impaired by pursuits, which ended only in

obtaining what was needful for his mere subsistence.

Circumstances connected with his condition and wants at this time, led

him to Boston, and carried him, when there, into the office of Mr. Gore.

This was, undoubtedly, one of the deciding circumstances of his life.

Mr. Gore was a lawyer of eminence, and a _gentleman_, in the loftiest

and most generous meaning of the word. His history was already connected

with that of the country. He had been appointed district attorney of the

United States for Massachusetts, by Washington; he had served in England

as our commissioner under Jay's treaty; and he was afterwards governor

of his native state, and its senator in Congress. His whole character,

private, political, and professional, from its elevation, purity and

dignity, was singularly fitted to influence a young man of quick and

generous feelings, who already perceived within himself the impulse of

talents and the stirrings of an ambition whose direction was yet to be

determined. Mr. Webster felt, that it was well for him to be there; and

Mr. Gore obtained an influence over his young mind, which the peculiarly

kind and frank manners of the instructer permitted early to ripen into

an intimacy and friendship that were interrupted only by death.

Mr. Webster finished the study of his profession in Boston, and was

there admitted to the bar in 1805;--Mr. Gore, who presented him,

venturing, at the time, to make a prediction to the court respecting his

pupil's future eminence, which has been hardly more than fulfilled by

all his present fame. At first, he began the practice of his profession

in Boscawen, a small village adjacent to the place of his birth; but in

1807, he removed to Portsmouth, where, no doubt, he thought he was

establishing himself for life.

As a young lawyer, about to lay the foundations for future success, his

portion could, perhaps, hardly have been rendered more fortunate and

happy than it was now in Portsmouth. He rose rapidly in general regard,

and was, therefore, almost at once, ranked with the first in his

profession in his native state. Of course, his associations and

intercourse were with the first minds. And, happily for one like him,

the presiding judge of the highest tribunal in New-Hampshire was then

Mr. Smith, afterwards governor of the state, whose native clearness of

perception, acuteness, and power, united to faithful and accurate

learning in his profession, and the soundest and most practical wisdom

in the fulfilment of his duties on the bench, and in his intercourse

with the bar, gave him naturally and necessarily great influence over

its younger members. Mr. Webster, as the most prominent among them, came

much in contact with him, and profited much from his sagacious foresight

and wise and discriminating kindness. He came, too, still more in

contact with Mr. Mason, afterwards a senator in Congress, and then and

still the leading counsel in New-Hampshire. Mr. Mason was his senior by

several years, but there was no other adversary capable of encountering

him; and the intellect with which Mr. Webster was thus called to contend

on equal terms was one of the highest order, of ample resources, and of

the quickest penetration; whose original reach, firm grasp, and

unsparing logic, left no safety for an adversary, but in a vigour,

readiness and skill, which could never be taken unprepared or at

disadvantage. It was a severe school; but there is little reason to

doubt, Mr. Webster owes to its stern and rugged discipline much of that

intellectual training and power, which render him, in his turn, so

formidable an adversary. He owes to it, also, notwithstanding their

uniform and daily opposition in court, the no less uniform personal

friendship of Mr. Mason in private life.

It was in the midst, however, of this period, both of discipline and

success as a lawyer, in New-Hampshire, that he entered public life. In

the government of his native state, we believe, he never took office of

any kind; and his first political place, therefore, was in the

thirteenth Congress of the United States. He was chosen in 1812, soon

after the declaration of war; and as he was then hardly thirty years

old, he must have been one of the youngest members of that important

Congress. His position there was difficult, and he felt it to be so. He

was opposed to the policy of the war; he represented a state earnestly

opposed to it; and he had always, especially in the eloquent and

powerful memorial from the great popular meeting in Rockingham,

expressed himself fully and frankly on the whole subject. But he was now

called into the councils of the government, which was carrying on the

war itself. He felt it to be his duty, therefore, to make no factious

opposition to the measures essential to maintain the dignity and honour

of the country; to make no opposition for opposition's sake; though, at

the same time, he felt it to be no less his duty, to take good heed that

neither the constitution, nor the essential interests of the nation,

were endangered or sacrificed--_ne quid detrimenti respublica accipiat_.

This, indeed, seems to have been his motto up to the time of the peace;

and his tone in relation to it is always manly, bold, and decisive. When

Mr. Monroe's bill for a sort of conscription was introduced, he joined

with Mr. Eppes, and other friends of the administration, in defeating a

project, which, except in a moment of great anxiety and excitement,

would probably have found no defenders. But when, on the other hand, the

bill for "encouraging enlistments" was before the house, he held, in

January 1814, the following strong and striking language, in which, now

the passions of that stormy period are hushed, all will sympathize.

"The humble aid which it would be in my power to render to

measures of government, shall be given cheerfully, 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 honourable 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 withholden from the means. Give up

your futile projects of invasion. Extinguish the fires that

blaze on your inland 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. Unclench the iron grasp of your

embargo. Take measures 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

considerable 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 sentiment, and may command the whole abundance of

the national resource. In time, you may be enabled to

redress 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."[5] Speech,

pp. 14, 15.

Later in the same Congress, the subject of the establishment and

principles of a national bank came into discussion, and the finances of

the country being then greatly embarrassed, this subject rose to

paramount importance, and absorbed much of the attention of Congress up

to the moment when the annunciation of peace put a period, for the time,

to all such debates. On the whole matter of the bank and the currency,

Congress was divided into three parties. First, those who were against a

national bank under any form. These persons consisted chiefly of the

remains of the old party, which had originally opposed the establishment

of the first bank in Washington's time, in 1791, and in 1811 had

prevented the renewal of its charter. They were, however, generally,

friends of the existing administration, whose position now called

strongly for the creation of a new bank; and, therefore, while they

usually voted on preliminary and incidental measures with the favourers

of a bank, they voted, on the final passage of the bill, against it; so

that it was much easier to defeat the whole of any one project, than to

carry through any modification of it. Second, there was a party

consisting almost entirely of friends of the administration, who wished

for a bank, provided it were such a one as they thought would not only

regulate the currency of the country, and facilitate the operations of

the government, but also afford present and important aid by heavy

loans, which the bank was to be compelled to make, and to enable it to

do which, it was to be relieved from the necessity of paying its notes

in specie;--in other words, it was a party that wished to authorize and

establish a paper currency for the whole country. The third party wished

for a bank with a moderate capital, compelled always to redeem its notes

with specie, and at liberty to judge for itself, when it would, and when

it would not, make loans to the government.

The second party, of course, was the one that introduced into Congress

the project for a bank at this time. The bill was originally presented

to the Senate; and its main features were, that the bank should absorb a

large amount of the depreciated public debt of the United States, and

grant to the government heavy loans on the security of a similar debt to

be created; that its capital should consist of fifty millions of

dollars, of which five millions only were to be specie, and the rest

depreciated government securities; and that the bank, when required,

should lend the government thirty millions. At the time when this plan

was brought forward, all the numerous state banks south of New-England

had refused to redeem their notes, or, as it was called "to ears

polite," had "suspended specie payments," in consequence of which, their

notes had fallen in value from 10 to 25 per cent., and specie, of

course, had risen proportionally in value, and disappeared from

circulation entirely. To afford the contemplated national bank any

chance for carrying on its operations, or even for beginning them, it

was to be authorized "to suspend specie payments," which meant, that it

was to be authorized never to begin them; for, without this authority,

their specie would be drained the moment their notes should be issued

equal to its amount. On the other hand, all the taxes and revenues of

the government were to be receivable in the paper of the bank, however

much it might fall in value. In short, the whole scheme was one of those

vast Serbonian bogs, where, from the days of Laws's Mississippi Company,

armies whole of legislators and projectors have sunk, without leaving

even a monument behind them to warn their followers of their fate.

We must not, however, be extravagantly astonished, that a project which

we now know was in its nature so wild and dangerous, should have found

favourers and advocates. The finances of the country were then in a

critical, and even distressing position; and all men were anxious to

devise some means to relieve them. A large part of the nation, too,

sincerely entertained the chimerical notion, now universally exploded,

that it was practicable to establish and maintain a safe and stable

paper currency, even when not convertible into specie at the pleasure of

the holder; and the example of England and its national bank was

referred to with effect, though, from its history since, the same

example could now be referred to with double effect on the other side of

the discussion. After an earnest and able debate, then, the bill, on the

whole, passed the Senate, and it was understood that a considerable

majority of the House of Representatives was in its favour.

When brought there on the 9th of December, 1814, it excited a very

animated discussion, which, with various interruptions from the forms

and rules of the House, references to committees, and occasional

adjournments, was continued till the 2d of January. In this protracted

debate Mr. Webster took a conspicuous part; and his efforts, of which

the speech now published is but an inconsiderable item, did much to

avert the threatened evil, and to establish his reputation, not merely

as an eloquent and powerful debater, which had already been settled in

the previous session, but as a sagacious and sound statesman.

His principal opposition to the bill was made on the last day of its

discussion. He then introduced a series of resolutions, bringing the

bank proposed within the limits of the specie-paying principle, and

taking off from it the restraints, which placed it too much within the

power of the government to make it useful as a monied institution,

either to the finances or to the commerce of the country. The objections

to the plan then before Congress, and the disasters that would probably

follow its adoption, he portrayed in the following strong language,

which none, however, will now think to have been too strong.

"The capital of the bank, then, will be five millions of

specie, and forty-five millions of government stocks. In

other words, the bank will possess five millions of dollars,

and the government will owe it forty-five millions. This

debt from government, the bank is restrained from selling

during the war, and government is excused from paying until

it shall see fit. The bank is also to be under obligation to

loan government thirty millions of dollars on demand, to be

repaid, not when the convenience or necessity of the bank

may require, but when debts due to the bank, from

government, are paid; that is, when it shall be the good

pleasure of government. This sum of thirty millions is to

supply the necessities of government, and to supersede the

occasion of other loans. This loan will doubtless be made on

the first day of the existence of the bank, because the

public wants can admit of no delay. Its condition, then,

will be, that it has five millions of specie, if it has been

able to obtain so much, and a debt of seventy-five millions,

no part of which it can either sell or call in, due to it

from government.

"The loan of thirty millions to government, can only be made

by an immediate issue of bills to that amount. If these

bills should return, the bank will not be able to pay them.

This is certain, and to remedy this inconvenience, power is

given to the directors, by the act, to suspend, at their own

discretion, the payment of their notes, until the President

of the United States shall otherwise order. The President

will give no such order, because the necessities of

government will compel it to draw on the bank till the bank

becomes as necessitous as itself. Indeed, whatever orders

may be given or withheld it will be utterly impossible for

the bank to pay its notes. No such thing is expected from

it. The first note it issues will be dishonoured on its

return, and yet it will continue to pour out its paper, so

long as government can apply it in any degree to its

purposes.

"What sort of an institution, sir, is this? It looks less

like a bank, than a department of government. It will be

properly the paper-money department. Its capital is

government debts; the amount of its issues will depend on

government necessities; government, in effect, absolves

itself from its own debts to the bank, and by way of

compensation absolves the bank from its own contracts with

others. This is, indeed, a wonderful scheme of finance. The

government is to grow rich, because it is to borrow without

the obligation of repaying, and is to borrow of a bank which

issues paper, without liability to redeem it. If this bank,

like other institutions which dull and plodding common sense

has erected, were to pay its debts, it must have some limits

to its issues of paper, and therefore, there would be a

point beyond which it could not make loans to government.

This would fall short of the wishes of the contrivers of

this system. They provide for an unlimited issue of paper,

in an entire exemption from payment. They found their bank,

in the first place, on the discredit of government, and then

hope to enrich government out of the insolvency of their

bank. With them, poverty itself is the main source of

supply, and bankruptcy a mine of inexhaustible treasure."

Pp. 224-5.

The resolutions proposed by Mr. Webster, and supported in this speech,

were not passed. Probably he did not expect them to pass, when he

proposed them; but the same day, the main question was taken upon the

passage of the bill itself; and, as it was rejected by the casting vote

of the speaker, there can be no reasonable doubt, that without his

exertions this portentous absurdity would not have been defeated. It is

but justice, however, to the supporters of the measure, to say, that the

mischievous consequences of its adoption, were by no means so apparent

then as they are now. We have since had no little experience on the

whole matter. It required all the power and influence of the general

government, and of the present sound and specie-paying Bank of the

United States, acting vigorously in concert for several years after the

war, to relieve the country from the flood of depreciated notes of the

state banks with which it was inundated, and to restore a safe and

uniform currency. When or how this evil could have been remedied, if, at

the very close of the war, it had been almost indefinitely increased by

the establishment of a vast machine, issuing every day as much

irredeemable paper as would be taken at any and every discount, and thus

co-operating with the evil itself, instead of opposing it, is more than

any man will now be bold enough to conjecture. We should, no doubt, have

been in bondage to it to this hour, and probably left it as a yoke upon

the necks of our children.

But, at the time referred to, the necessities of the government were

urgent; and, on motion of Mr. Webster, the rule that prevented a

reconsideration at the same session of a subject thus disposed of, was

suspended the very next day, and a bill for a bank was on the same day,

January 3, recommitted to a select committee. On the 6th, the committee

reported a specie-paying bank, with a much diminished capital, which was

carried in the house, with the fewest possible forms, on the 7th; Mr.

Webster and most of his friends voting for it. It passed the senate,

too, though with some difficulty; but was refused by the president, on

the ground, that it was not sufficient to meet the exigencies of the

case, which, indeed, we now know, no bank would have been able to meet.

This project, however, being thus rejected, another was immediately

introduced into the senate, the basis of which was to be laid, like that

of the first bank proposed, in a paper currency. It passed that body;

but on being brought into the house met a severe and determined

opposition, which ceased only when, on the 17th, the news of peace being

received, the bill was indefinitely postponed.

Mr. Webster's exertions, however, on the subject of the currency, did

not cease with the overthrow 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. The whole state of things in the

nation was now changed. The war was over, and the great purpose of sound

statesmanship was therefore to bring the healing and renovating

influences of peace into the administration and finances of the country.

The present bank was chartered in April 1816, and was placed,

substantially on the principles maintained in Mr. Webster's resolutions

of the preceding year. But still it seemed doubtful whether this

institution, however wisely managed, would alone have power enough to

restore a sound currency. The small depreciated notes of the state banks

south of New-England, still filled the land with their loathed

intrusion; and, what was worse, the revenue of the general government,

receivable at the different custom-houses, was collected in this

degraded paper, to the great injury of the finances of the country, and

to the still greater injury of the property of private individuals, who,

in different states, paid, of course, different rates of duties to the

treasury, according to the value of the paper medium in which it

happened to be received. Mr. Webster foresaw the mischiefs that must

follow from this state of things, if a remedy were not speedily applied.

He, therefore, in the same month of April 1816, introduced a resolution,

the effect of which was, to require the revenue of the United States to

be collected and received only in the legal currency of the United

States, or in bills equal to that currency in value.

In stating the nature of the evil, after showing by what means the paper

of the state banks south of New-England had become depreciated; he

says,--

"What still farther increases the evil is, that this bank

paper being the issue of very many institutions, situated in

different parts of the country, and possessing different

degrees of credit, the depreciation has not been, and is not

now, uniform throughout the United States. It is not the

same at Baltimore as at Philadelphia, nor the same at

Philadelphia as at New-York. In New-England, the banks have

not stopped payment in specie, and of course their paper has

not been depressed at all. But the notes of banks which have

ceased to pay specie, have nevertheless been, and still are,

received for duties and taxes in the places where such banks

exist. The consequence of all this is, that the people of

the United States pay their duties and taxes in currencies

of different values, in different places. In other words,

taxes and duties are higher in some places than they are in

others, by as much as the value of gold and silver is

greater than the value of the several descriptions of bank

paper which are received by government. This difference in

relation to the paper of the District where we now are, is

twenty-five per cent. Taxes and duties, therefore, collected

in Massachusetts, are one quarter higher than the taxes and

duties which are collected, by virtue of the same laws, in

the District of Columbia." Pp. 233-4.

A little further on, after showing that if this state of things is not

changed by the government, it will be likely to change the government

itself, he adds,--

"It is our business to foresee this danger, and to avoid it.

There are some political evils which are seen as soon as

they are dangerous, and which alarm at once as well the

people as the government. Wars and invasions therefore are

not always the most certain destroyers of national

prosperity. They come in no questionable shape. They

announce their own approach, and the general security is

preserved by the general alarm. Not so with the evils of a

debased coin, a depreciated paper currency, or a depressed

and falling public credit. Not so with the plausible and

insidious mischiefs of a paper money system. These insinuate

themselves in the shape of facilities, accommodation, and

relief. They hold out the most fallacious hope of an easy

payment of debts, and a lighter burden of taxation. It is

easy for a portion of the people to imagine that government

may properly continue to receive depreciated paper, because

they have received it, and because it is more convenient to

obtain it than to obtain other paper, or specie. But on

these subjects it is, that government ought to exercise its

own peculiar wisdom and caution. It is supposed to possess

on subjects of this nature, somewhat more of foresight than

has fallen to the lot of individuals. It is bound to foresee

the evil before every man feels it, and to take all

necessary measures to guard against it, although they may be

measures attended with some difficulty and not without

temporary inconvenience. In my humble judgment, the evil

demands the immediate attention of Congress. It is not

certain, and in my opinion not probable, that it will ever

cure itself. It is more likely to grow by indulgence, while

the remedy which must in the end be applied, will become

less efficacious by delay.

"The only power which the general government possesses of

restraining the issues of the state banks, is to refuse

their notes in the receipts of the treasury. This power it

can exercise now, or at least it can provide now for

exercising in reasonable time, because the currency of some

part of the country is yet sound, and the evil is not

universal. If it should become universal, who, that

hesitates now, will then propose any adequate means of

relief? If a measure, like the bill of yesterday, or the

resolutions of to-day, can hardly pass here now, what hope

is there that any efficient measure will be adopted

hereafter?" pp. 235-6.

The doctrine of this speech is as important as it is true. A sound and

uniform currency is essential, not only for the convenient and safe

management of the fiscal concerns of a government; but, no less so, for

the security of private property. It is, indeed, at once the standard

and basis of all transfer and exchange; and, whenever the circulating

medium has become much deranged in any country, it has been found an

arduous, and sometimes a dangerous task, to restore it to a sound state.

The effort almost necessarily brings on a conflict between the two great

classes of debtor and creditor, into which every community is

divided,--the creditor claiming the highest standard of value in the

currency, and the debtor the lowest; and the results of such a conflict

have not unfrequently been found in changes, convulsions, and political

revolution. From such a conflict we were saved in this country, by the

defeat of the paper-currency bank proposed in 1814,--by the

establishment of the present specie paying bank, and by the adoption of

Mr. Webster's resolution, which was approved by the President on the

30th of April, 1816.

It was at this period, however, that Mr. Webster determined to change

his residence, and, of course, to retire for a time at least, from

public life. He had now lived in Portsmouth nine years; and they had

been to him years of great happiness in his private relations, and, in

his relations to the country, years of remarkable advancement and

honour. But, in the disastrous fire, which, in 1813, destroyed a large

part of that devoted town, he had sustained a heavy loss, which the

means and opportunities offered by his profession in New Hampshire were

not likely to repair. He determined, therefore, to establish himself in

a larger capital, where his resources would be more ample, and, in the

summer of 1816, removed to Boston, where he has ever since resided.

His object now was professional occupation, and he devoted himself to it

for six or eight years exclusively, with unremitting assiduity, refusing

to accept office, or to mingle in political discussion. His success

corresponded to his exertions. He was already known as a distinguished

lawyer in his native state; and the two terms he had served in Congress,

had placed him, notwithstanding his comparative youth, among the

prominent statesmen of the country. His rank as a jurist, in the general

regard of the nation, was now no less speedily determined. Like many

other eminent members of the profession, however, who have rarely been

able to select at first what cases should be entrusted to them, it was

not for him to arrange or determine the time and the occasion, when his

powers should be decisively measured and made known. We must, therefore,

account it for a fortunate accident, though perhaps one of those

accidents granted only to talent like his, that the occasion was the

well known case of Dartmouth College; and, we must add, as a

circumstance no less fortunate, that the forum where he was called to

defend the principles of this great cause, and where he did defend them

so triumphantly, was that of the Supreme Court of the United States, at

Washington.

There is, indeed, something peculiar in this grave national tribunal,

especially with regard to the means and motives it offers to call out

distinguished talent, and try and confirm a just reputation, which is

worth notice. The judges themselves, selected from among the great

jurists of the country, as above ignorance, weakness, and the

temptations of political ambition,--with that venerable man at their

head, who for thirty years has been the ornament of the government, and,

in whose wisdom has been, in no small degree, the hiding of its

power--constitute a tribunal, which may be truly called solemn and

august. The advocates, too, who appear before it, are no less a chosen

few, full of talent and skill, and eager with ambition, who go there

from all the ends of the country, to discuss the gravest and most

important interests both public and private,--to settle the conflicts

between domestic and foreign jurisprudence, or the more perilous

conflicts between the authority of the individual states, and that of

the general government;--in short, to return constantly upon the first

great principles of national and municipal adjudication, and take heed,

that, whatever is determined shall rest only on the deep and sure

foundations of truth, right, and law. And, finally, if we turn from the

bench and the bar, to the audience which is collected around them, we

shall find again much that is remarkable, and even imposing. We shall

find, that, large as it is, it is gathered together from a city not

populous, where every thing, even the resources of fashion, must have a

direct dependence on the operations of government; and where the

senators themselves, and the representatives of foreign powers, no less

than the crowds collected during the session of Congress, by the

solicitations of an enlightened curiosity, or of a strenuous indolence,

can, after all, discover no resort so full of a stirring interest and

excitement, as that of the Supreme Court, into whose arena such

practised and powerful gladiators daily descend, rejoicing in the

combat. Taking it in all its connexions, then, we look upon this highest

tribunal of the country, not only to be solemn and imposing in itself,

but to be one of peculiar power over the reputations of these jurists

and advocates, who appear before it, and who must necessarily feel

themselves to be standing singularly in presence of the nation,

represented there as it is, in almost every way, and by almost every

class, from the fashion and beauty lounging on the sofas in the recesses

of the court-room, up to the eager antagonists, who are impatiently

waiting their time to contend for the mastery on some great interest or

principle, and the judges who are ultimately to decide it.

Mr. Webster had already appeared once or twice before this

tribunal;--but not in any cause which had called seriously into action

the powers of his mind. The case of Dartmouth College, however, was one

that might well task the faculties of any man. That institution, founded

originally by charter from the king of Great Britain, had been in

successful operation nearly half a century, when, in 1816, the

Legislature of New Hampshire, from some movements in party politics, was

induced, without the consent of the college, to annul its charter, and,

by several acts, to give it a new incorporation and name. The trustees

of the college resisted this interference; and, in 1817, commenced an

action in the state courts, which was decided against them. A writ of

error was then sued out by the original plaintiffs, to remove the cause

for its final adjudication, to the Supreme Court of the United States;

and it came on there for argument in March, 1818.

The court room was excessively crowded, not only with a large assemblage

of the eminent lawyers of the Union, but with many of its leading

statesmen,--drawn there no less by the importance of the cause, and the

wide results that would follow its decision, than by the known eloquence

of Mr. Hopkinson and Mr. Wirt, both of whom were engaged in it. Mr.

Webster opened it, on behalf of the college. The question turned mainly

on the point, whether the acts of the Legislature of New-Hampshire, in

relation to Dartmouth College, constituted a violation of a contract;

for, if they did, then they were contrary to the Constitution of the

United States. The principles involved, therefore, went to determine the

extent to which a legislature can exercise authority over the chartered

rights of all corporations; and this of course gave the case an

importance at the time, and a value since, paramount to that of almost

any other in the books. Mr. Webster's argument is given in this volume

at p. 110, et seq.; that is, we have there the technical outline, the

dry skeleton of it. But those who heard him, when it was originally

delivered, still wonder how such dry bones could ever have lived with

the power they there witnessed and felt. 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 occasion. Thoughts and feelings, that had grown old

with his best affections, rose unbidden to his lips. He remembered 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 imparted

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 excitement. 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 controlled them, had

vindicated for himself a place at the side of the first jurists of the

country.

From this period, therefore, Mr. Webster's attendance on the Supreme

Court at Washington has been constantly secured by retainers, in the

most important causes; and the circle of his professional business,

which has been regularly enlarging, has not been exceeded, if it has

been equalled, by that of any other lawyer who has ever appeared in the

national forum. The volume before us contains few traces of all this. It

contains, however, two arguments upon constitutional questions of great

interest and wide results. One is the case of Gibbons _vs._ Ogden, in

1824, involving the question, how far a state has authority to grant the

exclusive right of navigating the tide-waters within its territorial

limits; refusing that right to all persons belonging to other states, as

well as to its own citizens. This question struck, of course, at the

great steam-boat monopoly granted by the state of New-York, from motives

of public munificence, to Mr. Fulton, the admirable first mover of that

national benefit, and Chancellor Livingston, its early and adventurous

patron. The case was argued by Mr. Webster and Mr. Wirt against the

monopoly, and by Mr. Oakley and Mr. Emmet for it; so that probably as

much ability was brought into the discussion on each side, as has been

called for by any single cause in our judicial annals. The result was,

that the monopoly was declared to be unconstitutional; and thus another

great national blessing was obtained, hardly less important than the

original invention,--that of throwing open the right to steam-navigation

to the competition of the whole Union.

There were circumstances which gave uncommon interest to this cause,

independently of its great constitutional importance, and the wide

consequences involved in it. It had been litigated, during a series of

years, in every form, in the state courts of New-York, where the

monopoly had triumphed over all opposition. And it need hardly be said,

that the state courts of New-York have maintained as proud a reputation

for learning, research, and talent, as any in the Union. What lawyer has

not sat gladly at the feet of Chancellor Kent, and Chief Justice

Spencer? And what state, in relation to her jurisprudence, can so boldly

say--

"Quae regio in terris nostri non plena laboris?"

Mr. Webster's argument in the opening of this case,--which was closed

with great power by the Attorney-General, Mr. Wirt,--furnishes, even in

the meagre outline still preserved, p. 170-184, a specimen of some of

the characteristics of his mind. We here see his clearness and downright

simplicity in stating facts; his acute suggestion and analysis of

difficulties; his peculiar power of disentangling complicated

propositions, and resolving them into elements so plain, as to be

intelligible to the simplest minds; and his wariness not to be betrayed

into untenable positions, or to spread his forces over useless ground.

We see him, indeed, fortifying himself, as it were, strongly within the

narrowest limits of his cause, concentrating his strength, and ready at

any moment to enter, like a skilful general, at all the weak points of

his adversary's position. This argument, therefore, especially as it was

originally pronounced in court, we look upon, as a whole, to have been

equally remarkable for depth and sagacity; for the choice and

comprehensiveness of the topics; and for the power and tact exhibited in

their discussion. Yet we are carried along so quietly by its deep

current, that, like Partridge in Tom Jones, when he saw Garrick act

Hamlet, all seems to us so spontaneous, so completely without effort,

that we are convinced, nay, we feel sure, there is neither artifice nor

mystery, extraordinary power nor genius, in the whole matter. But, to

those who are familiar with Mr. Webster, and the workings of his mind,

it is well known, that, in this very plainness; in this earnest pursuit

of truth for truth's sake, and of the principles of law for the sake of

right and justice, and in his obvious desire to reach them all by the

most direct and simple means, is to be found no small part of the secret

of his power. It is this, in fact, above every thing else, that makes

him so prevalent with the jury; and, not only with the jury in court,

but with the great jury of the whole people.

The same general remarks are applicable to his argument in the case of

Ogden against Saunders, in 1827, which we notice now, out of the regular

series of events, in order to finish at once the little we can say of

his professional career as a lawyer. The case to which we now refer,

involved the question of the constitutionality of state insolvent laws,

when they purported to absolve the party from the obligation of the

_contract_, as well as from personal _imprisonment_, on execution. In a

legal and constitutional point of view, this has always been thought one

of Mr. Webster's ablest and most convincing arguments. With the court he

was only half successful; there being a remarkable diversity of opinion

among the judges. But, taken in connexion with the opinion of Chief

Justice Marshall, delivered in the case, with which Mr. Webster's

argument coincides, both in reasoning and in conclusion, it seems

absolutely to have exhausted the whole range of the discussion on that

side, and to furnish all that future inquirers can need to master the

question.

But, during the years we have just passed over, Mr. Webster's success

was not confined to the bar. In the year 1820-21, a convention of

delegates was assembled in Boston, to revise the constitution of

Massachusetts. As it was one of those primary assemblies, where no

office disqualifies from membership, and as the occasion was one of the

rarest importance, the talent and wisdom, the fortunes and authority of

that commonwealth were, to a singular degree, collected in it. The

venerable John Adams, then above eighty-five years old, represented his

native village; Mr. 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 greater part of the judicial officers of the

state were there, as well as a large number of the leading members of

the Massachusett's bar, and a still larger number of its wealthiest or

most prominent land-holders and merchants. No assembly of equal dignity

and talent was ever collected in that commonwealth. Mr. Webster was one

of the delegates from Boston. What influence he exerted, or how

beneficial, or how extensive it was, can be entirely known only there

where it was put forth. But, if we may judge from the important

committees on which he served; the prominent interests and individuals

his duty called him occasionally to defend, to encounter, and to oppose;

and the business-like air of his short remarks, which are scattered up

and down through the whole volume of the "Journal of Debates and

Proceedings" of this convention, published soon afterwards, we should be

led to believe, that, though he was then but a newly adopted child of

Massachusetts, he had already gained a degree of confidence, respect and

authority, to which few in that ancient commonwealth could lay claim.

The fruits of it all, in the present volume, are, a short speech on

"Oaths of Office;" another on "the removal of Judges upon the address of

two-thirds of each branch of the Legislature;" and a more ample and very

powerful one on the "Principle of representation in the Senate." They

are all strong and striking; and it would be easy to extract something

from each, characteristic of its author; but we have not room, and must

content ourselves with referring, for a specimen of the whole, to the

remarks on the free schools of New-England, from the speech in the

Senate, which we have already cited; adding merely, that, to this

remarkable speech of Mr. Webster, and to another of great beauty and

force, by Mr. Justice Story, was ascribed, at the time, a change in the

opinions and vote of the convention, which, considering the importance

of the subject, and the long discussion it had undergone, was all but

unprecedented.[6]

While this convention was still in session, a great anniversary came

round at the north. The two hundredth year from the first landing of the

Pilgrims at Plymouth, was completed on the 22d of December, 1820; and

every man born in New-England, or in whose veins stirred a drop of

New-England blood, felt that he had an interest in the event it

recalled, and demanded its grateful celebration. Preparations,

therefore, for its commemoration, on the spot where it occurred, were

made long beforehand; and, by the sure indication of the public will,

and at the special invitation of the Pilgrim Society, Mr. Webster was

summoned as the man who should go to the Rock of Plymouth, and there so

speak of the centuries past, as that the centuries to come should still

receive and heed his words. Undoubtedly he amply fulfilled the

expectations that waited on this great occasion. His address, which

opens the present volume, is one of the gravest productions it contains.

He seems to feel that the ground on which he stands is holy; and the

deep moral sensibility, and even religious solemnity, which pervade many

parts of this striking discourse,--where he seems to have collected the

experience of all the past, in order to minister warning and

encouragement to all the future,--is in perfect harmony with the scene

and the occasion, and produced its appropriate effect on the multitude

elected, even at that inclement season, from the body of the New-England

states, to offer up thanksgivings for their descent from the Pilgrim

fathers. The effect, too, at the time, has been justified by a wider

success since; and the multiplied editions of the printed discourse,

while they have carried it into the farm-houses and hearts of the

New-England yeomanry, are at the same time ensuring its passage onward

to the next generation and the next, who may be well satisfied, when the

same jubilee comes round, if they can leave behind them monuments

equally imposing, to mark the lapse and revolutions of ages.

It would not be difficult to select eloquent passages from this

discourse. We prefer, however, to take one containing what was then a

plain and adventurous prediction; but what is now passing into history

before our very eyes. We allude to the remarks on the principle of the

subdivision of property in France, as affecting the permanency of the

French government, which Mr. Webster ventured to call in question, on

the same general grounds, on which he undertook to prove the permanency

of our own.

"A most interesting experiment of the effect of a

subdivision of property on government, is now making in

France. It is understood, that the law regulating the

transmission of property, in that country, now divides it,

real and personal, among all the children, equally, both

sons and daughters; and that there is, also, a very great

restraint on the power of making dispositions of property by

will. It has been supposed, that the effects of this might

probably be, in time, to break up the soil into such small

subdivisions, that the proprietors would be too poor to

resist the encroachments of executive power. I think far

otherwise. What is lost in individual wealth, will be more

than gained in numbers, in intelligence, and in a sympathy

of sentiment. If, indeed, only one, or a few landholders

were to resist the crown, like the barons of England, they

must, of course, be great and powerful landholders with

multitudes of retainers, to promise success. But if the

proprietors of a given extent of territory are summoned to

resistance, there is no reason to believe that such

resistance would be less forcible, or less successful,

because the number of such proprietors should be great. Each

would perceive his own importance, and his own interest, and

would feel that natural elevation of character which the

consciousness of property inspires. A common sentiment would

unite all, and numbers would not only add strength, but

excite enthusiasm. It is true, that France possesses a vast

military force, under the direction of an hereditary

executive government, and military power, it is possible,

may overthrow any government. It is in vain, however, in

this period of the world, to look for security against

military power, to the arm of the great landholders. That

notion is derived from a state of things long since past; a

state in which a feudal baron, with his retainers, might

stand against the sovereign, who was himself but the

greatest baron, and his retainers. But at present, what

could the richest landholder do, against one regiment of

disciplined troops? Other securities, therefore, against the

prevalence of military power must be provided. Happily for

us, we are not so situated as that any purpose of national

defence requires, ordinarily and constantly, such a military

force as might seriously endanger our liberties.

"In respect, however, to the recent law of succession in

France, to which I have alluded, _I would, presumptuously,

perhaps, hazard a conjecture, that if the government do not

change the law, the law, in half a century, will change the

government; and that this change will be not in favour of

the power of the crown, as some European writers have

supposed, but against it_. Those writers only reason upon

what they think correct general principles, in relation to

this subject. They acknowledge a want of experience. Here we

have had that experience; and we know that a multitude of

small proprietors, acting with intelligence, and that

enthusiasm which a common cause inspires, constitute not

only a formidable, but an invincible power." Pp. 47-8.

In less than six years from the time when this statesman-like prediction

was made, the King of France, at the opening of the Legislative

Chambers, thus strangely and portentously echoed it,

"Legislation ought to provide by successive improvements,

for all the wants of society. _The progressive partitioning

of landed estates essentially contrary to the spirit of a

monarchical government_ would enfeeble the guaranties which

the charter has given to my throne and to my subjects.

Measures will be proposed to you, gentlemen, to establish

the consistency which ought to exist between the political

law and the civil law; and to preserve the patrimony of

families, without restricting the liberty of disposing of

one's property. The preservation of families is connected

with, and affords a guaranty to political stability, which

is the first want of states, and which is especially that of

France after so many vicissitudes."

But the discovery came too late. The foundations, on which to build or

sustain the cumbrous system of the old monarchy, were already taken

away; and the events of the last summer, while they would almost

persuade us, that the "Attendant Spirit" so boldly given by the orator

in this very discourse to one of the great founders of our government,

had opened to him, also, on the Rock of Plymouth, "a vision of the

future;"[7]--these events, we say, can leave little doubt in the mind of

any man, that the speaker himself may live long enough,--as God grant he

may!--to witness the entire fulfilment of his own extraordinary

prophecy, and to see the French people erecting for themselves a sure

and stable government, suited to the foundation, on which alone it can

now rest.

In 1825, Mr. Webster was called to interpret the feelings of

New-England, on another great festival and anniversary. Fifty years from

the day, when the grave drama of the American Revolution was opened with

such picturesque solemnity, as a magnificent show on Bunker's Hill,

witnessed by the whole neighbouring city and country, clustering by

thousands on their steeples, the roofs of their houses, and the

hill-tops, and waiting with unspeakable anxiety the results of the scene

that was passing before their eyes,--fifty years from that day, it was

determined to lay, with no less solemnity, the corner stone of a

monument worthy to commemorate its importance. An immense multitude was

assembled. They stood on that 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;[8] and with

the names of Warren, Putnam, Stark, and Brooks, and the other leaders or

victims of that great day frequent and familiar on their lips. In the

midst of such a scene and with such recollections, starting like the

spirits of the dead from the very sods of that hill-side, it may well be

imagined, that words like the following, addressed to a vast

audience,--composed in no small degree of the survivors of the battle,

their children, and their grandchildren,--produced an effect, which only

the hand of death can efface.

"We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is

most safely deposited in the universal remembrance 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 contain but

part of that, which, in an age of knowledge, hath already

been spread over the earth, and which history charges itself

with making known to all future times. We know, that no

inscription on entablatures less broad than the earth

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 prolong 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

presenting this work of gratitude to the eye, to keep alive

similar sentiments, and to foster a constant regard for the

principles of the Revolution. Human beings are composed 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 object is to perpetuate national

hostility, or even to cherish a mere military spirit. It is

higher, purer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the spirit

of national independence, and we wish that the light of

peace may rest upon it for ever. We rear a memorial of our

conviction of that unmeasured benefit, which has been

conferred 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 labour may look up here, and be

proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish, that, in those

days of disaster, which, as they come on all nations, must

be expected to come on us also, desponding patriotism may

turn its eyes hitherward, and be assured that the

foundations 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, may be something

which shall remind him of the liberty and the 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." Pp. 58-9.

The last formal address delivered by Mr. Webster on any great public

occasion, was unexpectedly called from him in the summer of 1826, in

commemoration of the services of Adams and Jefferson;--an occasion so

remarkable, that what was said and felt on it, will not pass out of the

memories of the present generation. We shall, therefore, only make one

short extract from Mr. Webster's address at Faneuil Hall--the

description of the peculiar eloquence of Mr. Adams, in giving which, the

speaker becomes, himself, a living example of what he describes.

"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, when 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. Labour 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.

Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of

declamation, all may aspire after it--they cannot reach it.

It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a

fountain 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 children, 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 eloquent; then, self-devotion

is eloquent. The clear conception, outrunning 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 all

eloquence, it is action, noble, sublime, god-like action."

page 84.

During a part, however, of the period, over which we have thus very

slightly passed, Mr. Webster was again in public life. He was elected to

represent the city of Boston, in the seventeenth Congress, and took his

seat there in December, 1823. Early in the session, he presented a

resolution in favour of appointing a commissioner or agent to Greece;

and the resolution being taken up on the 19th of January following, Mr.

Webster delivered the speech, which usually passes under the name of

"the Greek Speech." His object, however, in presenting the resolution,

did not seem, at first, to be well understood. It was believed, that,

seeing the existence of a warm public sympathy for the suffering Greeks,

and solicited by the attractions of the subject itself, and of the

classical associations awakened by it, his object was to parade a few

sentences and figures, and so make an oration or harangue, which might

usher him, with some _eclat_, a second time, upon the theatre of public

affairs. The galleries, therefore, were thronged with a brilliant and

fashionable audience. But the crowd was destined to be disappointed;--Mr.

Webster, after a graceful and conciliating introduction, in which he

evidently disclaimed any such purpose, addressed himself at once to the

subject, and made, what he always makes, a powerful, but a downright

business speech. His object, instead of being the narrow one suggested

for him, was apparent, as he advanced, to be the broadest possible. It

was nothing less, than to take occasion of the Greek revolution, and the

conduct pursued in regard to it by the great continental powers, in

order to exhibit the principles laid down and avowed by those powers, as

the basis on which they intended to maintain the peace of Europe. In

doing this, he went through a very able examination of the proceedings

of all the famous Congresses, beginning with that of Paris, in 1814, and

coming down to that of Laybach, in 1821;--the principles of all which

were, that the people hold their fundamental rights and privileges, as

matter of concession and indulgence from the sovereign power; and that

all sovereign powers have a right to interfere and controul other

nations, in their desires and attempts to change their own

governments:--

"The ultimate effect of this alliance of sovereigns, for

objects personal to themselves, or respecting only the

permanency of their own power, must be the destruction of

all just feeling, and all natural sympathy, between those

who exercise the power of government, and those who are

subject to it. The old channels of mutual regard and

confidence are to be dried up, or cut off. Obedience can now

be expected no longer than it is enforced. Instead of

relying on the affections of the governed, sovereigns are to

rely on the affections and friendship of other sovereigns.

They are, in short, no longer to be nations. Princes and

people no longer are to unite for interests common to them

both. There is to be an end of all patriotism, as a distinct

national feeling. Society is to be divided horizontally; all

sovereigns above, and all subjects below; the former

coalescing for their own security, and for the more certain

subjection of the undistinguished multitude beneath." page

249.