DANIEL WEBSTER.

On January 8th, 1782, was born at Franklin, New Hampshire, a son to a

comparatively poor farmer. No royal blood flowed through the veins of

this child whereby to bring him honor, yet one day he was to rise to the

foremost rank among the rulers of his country. At that early period the

town of Salisbury, now Franklin, was the extreme northern settlement in

New Hampshire, and the schools were of necessity in a primitive state.

Daniel Webster labored on his father's farm during the summer, and a few

months of each winter attended the district school some two miles from

his home. Considering the cold, and the heavy snows which are

characteristic of his native State, one can scarcely realize the amount

of energy he must have utilized to enable him to enter Exeter Academy at

the early age of fourteen, and one year later, Dartmouth College. He is

represented as promising nothing of his future greatness at this time,

but it is stated that he pursued every study with EXTRAORDINARY

TENACITY.

He read widely, especially in history and general English literature,

and thereby laid a good foundation for the splendid education which his

personal energy at last brought him. As a matter of course, such a line

of action must bring out what qualities might be in any man. The college

societies soon sought him as a member.

While at Exeter he could hardly muster courage to speak before his

class, but before he had finished his college course he had delivered

addresses before the societies, which found their way into print. His

diligence soon placed him at the head of his class, a position he

maintained until the close of his college studies, graduating in 1801

with high honors.

Choosing law as his profession, he entered the law office of a friend

and neighbor, Thomas Thompson, who afterwards became a congressman and

eventually a senator. Mr. Webster remained here for some time when he

left the office to become a teacher in Maine at a salary of $350 per

year, which he enlarged somewhat by copying deeds. He afterwards

returned to the office of Mr. Thompson where he remained until 1804,

when he went to Boston and entered the office of Christopher Gove, who

also distinguished himself afterwards as governor of Massachusetts.

He had previously helped his brother Ezekiel to prepare for college, and

Daniel now in turn was helped to continue his law studies as Ezekiel was

teaching. His opportunity to enter the office of Mr. Gove proved most

fortunate, as he was thus enabled to study men, books and daily hear

intelligent discussions on the topics of national interest.

In 1805 he was admitted to the bar, and established himself at Boscawen.

He had been offered the clerkship of the Hillsboro County Court at a

salary of $1,500 a year, which was then a large income, and he was urged

to accept it by his father and other friends, but was dissuaded from so

doing by Mr. Gove, who foresaw great honor in store for him at the bar.

He practiced at Boscawen one year, when he was admitted to practice in

the Superior Court of New Hampshire, and he established himself at

Portsmouth, at that time the capital of the State. Here he rose to

distinction among the most eminent counsellors. During his nine years

residence in Portsmouth he gave his especial attention to constitutional

law, becoming one of the soundest practitioners in the State.

He had inherited from his father the principles of the Federalist party,

and, therefore, advocated them in speeches on public occasions, but did

not for some years enter into politics. Mr. Webster came forward in a

time when party spirit ran high, and the declaration of war in 1812,

long deprecated by his party, created a demand for the best talent the

country afforded. Mr. Webster now held a commanding reputation, and in

1812 he was sent to Congress. This was a most favorable time for Webster

to enter Congress, as measures of the greatest importance were now to be

discussed.

Henry Clay was speaker of the house, and placed this new member on a

most important committee. June 10, 1813, he delivered his maiden speech

on the repeal of the Berlin and Milan decrees. These decrees were a

scheme of Napoleon's, avowedly directed against the commercial

interests of Great Britain.

They closed all ports of France, and her allied countries against all

vessels coming from England or any English colony. All commerce and

correspondence was prohibited. All English merchandise was seized, and

English subjects found in any country governed by France were held

prisoners of war.

Great Britain retaliated by prohibiting neutral vessels from entering

the ports of France under pain of confiscation; and a later order placed

France and her allies, together with all countries with whom England was

at war, under the same restriction.

Napoleon then issued his decree from Milan and the Tuileries declaring

that any vessel that had ever been searched by English authority, or had

ever paid duty to England, should be treated as a lawful prize of war.

Mr. Webster's first speech, as before stated, was upon a resolution on

the repeal of these decrees, and so ably did he define our duty as a

country, in the matter, and so clearly did he show wherein both England

and France had transgressed; that, being a new member, unknown outside

of his own section of the Union, his lucid and eloquent appeal took the

house and nation by surprise.

His subsequent speeches on the increase of the navy and the repeal of

the embargo act won for him a first place among the great debaters of

his day. He cultivated a friendly relation with political opponents as

well as partisan friends, which soon gained for him the respect of all

and he became the acknowledged leader of the Federal party. He was

re-elected to Congress in 1814 by a large majority, and in the debates

upon the United States bank which followed, he displayed a most

remarkable mastery of the financial questions of his time. Afterward a

bill which was introduced by him passed, requiring all payments to the

treasury to be made in specie or its equivalent, restored the

depreciated currency of the country.

His home and library was burned and after some hesitation as to whether

to locate in Boston or Albany, he decided on the former whither he

moved, and where he lived the remainder of his life. This change of

location gave greater scope for the extension of his legal business, and

his resignation from Congress increased still further his time and

opportunities. During the next seven years he devoted his exclusive

attention to his profession, taking a position as counsellor, above

which no one has ever risen in this country, and the best class of

business passed into his hands.

In 1816 the legislature of New Hampshire reorganized the corporation of

Dartmouth College, changing its name to Dartmouth University, and

selecting new trustees. The newly-created body took possession of the

institution, and the old board brought action against the new

management. The case involved the powers of the legislature over the old

corporation without their consent. It was decided twice in the

affirmative by the courts of the State, when it was appealed to

Washington, the highest court.

Mr. Webster opened the case, delivering a most eloquent and exhaustive

argument for the college. His argument was that it was a private

institution supported through charity, over which the State had no

control, and that the legislature could not annul except for acts in

violation of its charter, which had not been shown. Chief Justice

Marshal decided that the act of the legisature was unconstitutional and

reversed the previous decisions. This established Mr. Webster's

reputation in the Supreme Court, and he was retained in every

considerable case thereafter, being considered one of the greatest

expounders of constitutional law in the Union.

He was already acknowledged to be among the greatest criminal lawyers,

and at the anniversary of the landing of the pilgrim fathers he

delivered the first of a series of orations which, aside from his legal

and legislative achievements must have made him renowned. He was elected

in 1822 to congress, being chosen from Boston, and during 1823 made his

world-famous speech on the Greek revolution; a most powerful

remonstrance against what has passed into history as "The holy

alliance," and he also opposed an extravagant increase of the tariff. He

also reported and carried through the house a complete revision of the

criminal law of the United States, being chairman of the judiciary

committee. In 1827 he was selected by the legislature of Massachusetts

to fill a vacancy in the United States senate. In that body he won a

foremost position.

Probably the most eloquent exhibition of oratory, based on logic and

true statesmanship, ever exhibited in the Senate of the United States

was the contest between Mr. Webster, of Massachusetts, and Mr. Hayne,

the silver-tongued orator of South Carolina; the debate transpiring in

1830. The subject of discussion before the senate by these two

intellectual gladiators grew out of a resolution brought forward by

Senator Foot, of Connecticut, just at the close of the previous year

with a view of some arrangement concerning the sales of the public

lands. But this immediate question was soon lost sight of in the

discussion of a great vital principle of constitutional law, namely:

The relative powers of the States and the national government.

Upon this Mr. Benton and Mr. Hayne addressed the Senate, condemning the

policy of the Eastern States as illiberal toward the West. Mr. Webster

replied in vindication of New England, and of the policy of the

Government. It was then that Mr. Hayne made his attack--sudden,

unexpected, and certainly unexampled--upon Mr. Webster personally, upon

Massachusetts and other Northern States politically, and upon the

constitution itself. In respect to the latter, Mr. Hayne taking the

position that it is constitutional to interrupt the administration of

the Constitution itself, in the hands of those who are chosen and sworn

to administer it; by the direct interference in form of law, of the

States, in virtue of their sovereign capacity.

All of these points were handled by Mr. Hayne with that rhetorical

brilliancy, and the power which characterized him as the oratorical

champion of the South on the floor of the Senate, and it is not saying

too much that the speech produced a profound impression. Mr. Hayne's

great effort appeared to be the result of premeditation, concert, and

arrangement.

He selected his own time, and that, too, peculiarly inconvenient to Mr.

Webster, for at that moment the Supreme Court was proceeding in the

hearing of a case of great importance in which he was a leading counsel.

For this reason he requested, through a friend, the postponement of the

debate. Mr. Hayne objected, however, and the request was refused. The

time, the matter, and the manner, indicated that the attack was made

with the design to crush so formidable a political opponent as Mr.

Webster had become. To this end, personal history, the annals of New

England, and the federal party were ransacked for materials.

It was attempted with the usual partisan unfairness of political

harangues to make him responsible not only for what was his own, but for

the conduct and opinions of others. All the errors and delinquencies,

real or supposed, of Massachusetts and the Eastern States, and of the

Federal party during the war of 1812, and indeed prior and subsequent to

that period were accumulated and heaped upon him.

Thus it was that Mr. Hayne heralded his speech with a bold declaration

of war, with taunts and threats, vaunting anticipated triumph--saying

'that he would carry the war into Africa until he had obtained indemnity

for the past and security for the future.' It was supposed that as a

distinguished representative man, Mr. Webster would be driven to defend

what was indefensible, to uphold what could not be sustained and, as a

Federalist, to oppose the popular resolutions of '98.

The severe nature of Mr. Hayne's charges, the ability with which he

brought them to bear upon his opponents, his great reputation as a

brilliant and powerful declaimer, filled the minds of his friends with

anticipations of complete triumph. For two days Mr. Hayne had control of

the floor. The vehemence of his language and the earnestness of his

manner, we might properly say the power of his oratory, added force to

the excitement of the occasion. So fluent and melodious was his

elocution that his cause naturally begat sympathy. No one had time to

deliberate on his rapid words or canvass his sweeping and accumulated

statements. The dashing nature of the onset, the assurance, almost

insolence of his tone; the serious character of the accusations,

confounded almost every hearer.

The immediate impression of the speech was most surely disheartening to

the cause Mr. Webster upheld. Congratulations from almost every quarter

were showered upon Mr. Hayne. Mr. Benton said in full senate that as

much as Mr. Hayne had done before to establish his reputation as an

orator, a statesman, a patriot and a gallant son of the South; the

efforts of that day would eclipse and surpass the whole. Indeed the

speech was extolled as the greatest effort of the time or of other

times--neither Chatham or Burke nor Fox had surpassed it in their

palmiest days.

Mr. Webster's own feelings with reference to the speech were freely

expressed to his friend, Mr. Everett, the evening succeeding Mr. Hayne's

closing speech. He regarded the speech as an entirely unprovoked attack

on the North, and what was of far more importance, as an exposition of

politics in which Mr. Webster's opinion went far to change the form of

government from that which was established by the constitution into that

which existed under the confederation--if the latter could be called a

government at all. He stated it to be his intention therefore to put

that theory to rest forever, as far as it could be done by an argument

in the senate chamber. How grandly he did this is thus vividly portrayed

by Mr. March, an eye-witness, and whose account has been adopted by most

historians.

It was on Tuesday, January 26th, 1830--a day to be hereafter memorable

in senatorial annals--that the senate resumed the consideration of

Foot's resolution. There was never before in the city an occasion of so

much excitement. To witness this great intellectual contest multitudes

of strangers had, for two or more days previous, been rushing into the

city, and the hotels overflowed. As early as nine o'clock in the morning

crowds poured into the capitol in hot haste; at twelve o'clock, the hour

of meeting, the senate chamber, even its galleries, floor, and lobbies

was filled to its utmost capacity. The very stairways were dark with men

who hung on to one another like bees in a swarm.

The House of Representatives was early deserted. An adjournment would

hardly have made it emptier. The speaker, it is true, retained his

chair, but no business of moment was or could be attended to. Members

all rushed in to hear Mr. Webster, and no call of the House or other

parliamentary proceedings could call them back. The floor of the Senate

was so densely crowded that persons once in could not get out.

Seldom, if ever, has a speaker in this or any other country had more

powerful incentives to exertion; a subject, the determination of which

involved the most important interests and even duration of the

Republic--competitors unequaled in reputation, ability, or position; a

name to make still more renowned or lose forever; and an audience

comprising, not only American citizens most eminent in intellectual

greatness, but representatives of other nations where the art of oratory

had flourished for ages.

Mr. Webster perceived and felt equal to the destinies of the moment. The

very greatness of the hazard exhilarated him. His spirits arose with the

occasion. He awaited the time of onset with a stern and impatient joy.

He felt like the war-horse of the Scriptures, who 'paweth in the valley

and rejoiceth in his strength: who goeth on to meet the armed men who

sayeth among the trumpets, ha! ha! and who smelleth the battle afar

off, the thunder of the Captains and the shouting.'

A confidence in his resources, springing from no vain estimate of his

power but the legitimate off-spring of previous SEVERE MENTAL

DISCIPLINE, sustained and excited him. He had gauged his opponents, his

_subject_ and HIMSELF.

He was, too, at this period in the very prime of manhood. He had reached

middle-age--an era in the life of man when the faculties, physical or

intellectual, may be supposed to attain their fullest organization and

most perfect development. Whatever there was in him of intellectual

energy and vitality the occasion, his full life and high ambition might

well bring forth. He never arose on an ordinary occasion to address an

ordinary audience more self-possessed. There was no tremulousness in his

voice or manner; nothing hurried, nothing simulated. The calmness of

superior strength was visible everywhere; in countenance, voice and

bearing. A deep-seated conviction of the extraordinary character of the

emergency and of his ability to control it seemed to possess him wholly.

If an observer more than ordinarily keen-sighted detected at times

something like exultation in his eye, he presumed it sprang from the

excitement of the moment and the anticipation of victory. The anxiety to

hear the speech was so intense, irrepressible and universal that no

sooner had the vice-president assumed the chair that a motion was made

and unanimously carried to postpone the ordinary preliminaries of

senatorial action and take up immediately the consideration of the

resolution.

Mr. Webster arose and addressed the Senate. His exordium is known by

heart everywhere. "Mr. President when the mariner has been tossed about

for many days in thick weather and on an unknown sea he naturally avails

himself of the first pause in the storm, the earliest glance of the sun

to take his latitude and ascertain how far the elements have driven him

from his true course. Let us imitate this prudence and before we float

further on the waves of this debate refer to the point from which we

departed that we may at least be able to form some conjecture where we

now are. I ask for the reading of the resolutions."

Calm, resolute, impressive was this opening speech. There wanted no more

to enchain the attention. There was a spontaneous though silent

expression of eager attention as the orator concluded these opening

remarks. And while the clerk read the resolution many attempted the

impossibility of getting nearer the speaker. Every head was inclined

closer toward him, every ear turned in the direction of his voice--and

that deep, sudden, mysterious silence followed which always attends

fullness of emotion. From the sea of upturned faces before him the

orator beheld his thought, reflected as from a mirror. The varying

countenance, the suffused eye, the earnest smile and ever attentive look

assured him of the intense interest excited. If among his hearers there

were some who affected indifference at first to his glowing thoughts and

fervant periods, the difficult mask was soon laid aside and profound,

undisguised, devout attention followed.

In truth, all sooner or later, voluntarily, or in spite of themselves

were wholly carried away by the spell of such unexampled eloquence.

Those who had doubted Mr. Webster's power to cope with and overcome his

opponent were fully satisfied of their error before he had proceeded

far in this debate. Their fears soon took another direction. When they

heard his sentences of powerful thought towering in accumulated grandeur

one above the other as if the orator strove Titan-like to reach the very

heavens themselves, they were giddy with an apprehension that he would

break down in his flight. They dared not believe that genius,

learning--any intellectual endowment however uncommon, that was simply

mortal--could sustain itself long in a career seemingly so perilous.

They feared an Icarian fall. No one surely who was present, could ever

forget the awful burst of eloquence with which the orator apostrophized

the old Bay State which Mr. Hayne had so derided, or the tones of deep

pathos in which her defense was pronounced:--

"Mr. President: I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts. There

she is--behold her and judge for yourselves. There is her history, the

world knows it by heart. The past at least is secure. There is Boston,

and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill, and there they will remain

forever. The bones of her sons falling in the great struggle for

independence now lie mingled with the soil of every State from New

England to Georgia, and there they will remain forever. And sir, where

American liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was

nurtured and sustained, there it still lives in the strength of its

manhood and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall

wound it, if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it,

if folly and madness, if uneasiness under salutary and necessary

restraint, shall succeed to separate it from that Union by which alone

its existence is made sure it will stand in the end by the side of that

cradle in which its infancy was rocked, it will stretch forth its arm

with whatever vigor it may still retain over the friends who gather

around it and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest

monuments of its own glory and on the very spot of its origin."

No New England heart but throbbed with vehement emotion as Mr. Webster

dwelt upon New England sufferings, New England struggles, and New

England triumphs during the war of the Revolution. There was scarcely a

dry eye in the Senate; all hearts were overcome; grave judges and men

grown old in dignified life turned aside their heads to conceal the

evidence of their emotion.

We presume that none but those present can understand the excitement of

the scene. No one who was present can, it seems, give an adequate

description of it. No word-painting can convey the deep, intense

enthusiasm, the reverential attention of that vast assembly, nor limner

transfer to canvas their earnest, eager, awe-struck countenances. Though

language were as subtle and flexible as thought it would still be

impossible to represent the full idea of the occasion. Much of the

instantaneous effect of the speech arose of course from the orator's

delivery--the tones of his voice, his countenance and manner. These die

mostly with the occasion, they can only be described in general terms.

"Of the effectiveness of Mr. Webster's manner in many parts," says Mr.

Everett, himself almost without a peer as an orator, "it would be in

vain to attempt to give any one not present the faintest idea. It has

been my fortune to hear some of the ablest speeches of the greatest

living orators on both sides of the water, but I must confess I never

heard anything which so completely realized my conception of what

Demosthenes was when he delivered the oration for the Crown."

Could there be higher praise than this? Keen nor Kemble nor any other

masterly delineator of the human passions ever produced a more powerful

impression upon an audience or swayed so completely their hearts. No one

ever looked the orator as he did; in form and feature how like a god!

His countenance spake no less audibly than his words. His manner gave

new force to his language. As he stood swaying his right arm like a huge

tilt-hammer, up and down, his swarthy countenance lighted up with

excitement, he appeared amid the smoke, the fire, the thunder of his

eloquence like Vulcan in his armory forging thoughts for the gods!

Time had not thinned nor bleached his hair; it was as dark as the

raven's plumage, surmounting his massive brow in ample folds. His eye

always dark and deep-set enkindled by some glowing thought shown from

beneath his somber overhanging brow like lights in the blackness of

night from a sepulcher. No one understood better than Mr. Webster the

philosophy of dress; what a powerful auxiliary it is to speech and

manner when harmonizing with them. On this occasion he appeared in a

blue coat, a buff vest, black pants and white cravat; a costume

strikingly in keeping with his face and expression. The human face never

wore an expression of more withering, relentless scorn than when the

orator replied to Hayne's allusion to the "Murdered Coalition"--a piece

of stale political trumpery well understood at that day.

"It is," said Mr. Webster, "the very cast off slough of a polluted and

shameless press. Incapable of further mischief it lies in the sewer,

lifeless and despised. It is not now, sir, in the power of the honorable

member to give it dignity or decency by attempting to elevate it and

introduce it into the Senate. He cannot change it from what it is--an

object of general disgust and scorn. On the contrary, the contact, if he

choose to touch it, is more likely to drag him down, down, down to the

place where it lies itself." He looked as he spoke these words as if the

thing he alluded to was too mean for scorn itself, and the sharp

stinging enunciation made the words still more scathing. The audience

seemed relieved, so crushing was the expression of his face which they

held onto as 'twere spell-bound--when he turned to other topics. But the

good-natured yet provoking irony with which he described the imaginary,

though life-like scene of direct collision between the marshaled army of

South Carolina under General Hayne on the one side, and the officers of

the United States on the other, nettled his opponent even more than his

severe satire, it seemed so ridiculously true.

With his true Southern blood Hayne inquired with some degree of emotion

if the gentleman from Massachusetts intended any _personal_ imputation

by such remarks? To which Mr. Webster replied with perfect good humor,

"Assuredly not, just the reverse!" The variety of incident during the

speech, and the rapid fluctuation of passions, kept the audience in

continual expectation and ceaseless agitation. The speech was a complete

drama of serious comic and pathetic scenes, and though a large portion

of it was argumentative--an exposition of constitutional law--yet grave

as such portion necessarily must be, severely logical and abounding in

no fancy or episode, it engrossed throughout undivided attention. The

swell of his voice and its solemn roll struck upon the ears of the

enraptured hearers in deep and thrilling cadence as waves upon the

shore of the far-resounding sea.

The Miltonic grandeur of his words was the fit expression of his great

thoughts and raised his hearers up to his theme, and his voice exerted

to its utmost power penetrated every recess or corner of the

Senate--penetrated even the ante-rooms and stairways, as in closing he

pronounced in deepest tones of pathos these words of solemn

significance: "When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time

the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and

dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union; on States dissevered,

discordant, belligerent, on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched,

it may be, in fraternal blood.

"Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous

ensign of the Republic now known and honored throughout the earth; still

full, high, advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original

lustre, not a stripe erased nor polluted, not a single star obscured,

bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as 'What is all

this worth?' nor those other words of folly and delusion: 'Liberty first

and Union afterwards,' but everywhere spread all over it characters of

living light blazing on all of its ample folds as they float over the

sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens that

other sentiment dear to every American heart: 'LIBERTY AND UNION NOW AND

FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE!'"

The speech was over but the tones of the orator still lingered on the

ear, and the audience, unconscious of the close, retained their

positions. Everywhere around seemed forgetfulness of all but the

orator's presence and words. There never was a deeper silence; the

feeling was too overpowering to allow expression by voice or hand. But

the descending hammer of the chair awoke them with a start, and with one

universal, long drawn, deep breath, with which the over-charged heart

seeks relief, the crowded assembly broke up and departed.

In the evening President Jackson held a levee at the White House. It was

known in advance that Mr. Webster would attend it, and hardly had the

hospitable doors of the mansion been thrown open, when the crowd that

had filled the Senate-Chamber in the morning rushed in and occupied the

room, leaving a vast and increasing crowd at the entrance. On all

previous occasions the general himself had been the observed of all

observers. His receptions were always gladly attended by large numbers,

and to these he himself was always the chief object of attraction on

account of his great military and personal reputation, official

position, gallant bearing, and courteous manners. But on this occasion

the room in which he received his company was deserted as soon as

courtesy to the president permitted.

Mr. Webster was in the East room and thither the whole mass hurried. He

stood almost in the center of the room pressed upon by surging crowds

eager to pay him deference. Hayne, too, was there, and with others went

up and complimented Mr. Webster on his brilliant effort. In a subsequent

meeting between the two rival debators Webster challenged Hayne to drink

a glass of wine with him, saying as he did so, "General Hayne I drink to

your health, and I hope that you may live a thousand years." "I shall

not live more than one hundred if you make another such a speech," Hayne

replied.

To this day Webster's speech is regarded as the master-piece of modern

eloquence--unsurpassed by even the mightiest efforts of either Pitt, Fox

or Burke--a matchless intellectual achievement and complete forensic

triumph. It was to this great, triumphant effort that Mr. Webster's

subsequent fame as a statesman was due.

Upon the election of General Harrison to the presidency Mr. Webster was

offered his choice of the places in the cabinet, a recognition of

ability probably never accorded to any other man before or since. He

finally accepted the office of Secretary of State. Our relation with

England demanded prompt attention. The differences existing between the

two nations relative to the Northern boundary could not be disregarded,

and Mr. Webster and Lord Ashburton brought about a treaty which was

equally honorable and advantageous to the countries. He was also able

later to contribute much toward the settlement of the Oregon boundary

question through private channels of influence, though holding no

official position at the time.

In 1847 he started on a tour of the Southern States, being well received

throughout; especially in Charleston, Columbia, Augusta and Savannah was

as well received, but his health failing him in the latter city, he was

obliged to abandon his project of making a tour of the whole South. He

became Secretary of State under Mr. Fillmore. This position he held at

his death which occurred at Marshfield, on the 24th day of October,

1852. Funeral orations were delivered throughout the country in great

numbers.

He was a man of commanding figure, large but well proportioned. His head

was of unusual size, his eyes deep-seated and lustrious, and had a voice

powerful yet pleasing; his action, while not remarkably graceful, was

easy and impressive. His social tastes were very strong and he possessed

marked conversational power. He lived in an age of great legislators and

it is needless to add that he was excelled in statesmanship by none.

Professor Ticknor, speaking in one of his letters of the intense

excitement with which he listened to Webster's Plymouth address, says:

"Three or four times I thought my temples would burst with the gush of

blood, for after all you must know I am aware it is no connected and

compact whole, but a collection of broken fragments, of burning

eloquence to which his manner gave ten fold force. When I came out I was

almost afraid to come near him. It seemed to me that he was like the

mount that might not be touched, and that burned with fire."

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