Daniel Webster is credited with one of the most vivid figures in the
rhetoric of American eloquence. The orator was eulogizing the financial
genius of Hamilton, and startled the audience by the sentence, uttered
in his impressive tone,---
"He touched the dead corpse of Public Credit, and it sprung upon its
feet."
The audience rose to their feet,--it was a public dinner,--and greeted
the sentiment with three rousing cheers.
The figure, Mr. Webster said, was an impromptu, suggested by a napkin on
the dinner-table. He had paused, in his usual deliberate way, after the
sentence, itself containing a figure beautiful in its appropriateness.
"He smote the rock of the national resources, and abundant streams of
revenue gushed forth." His eye fell upon a folded napkin; that suggested
a corpse in its winding-sheet, and the figure was in his mind.
Grand as this rhetoric is, it is almost paralleled in vividness, while
exceeded in wit, by a figure which Seargent S. Prentiss, of Mississippi,
once used.
A Southern statesman, noted as a political tactician, had written a
letter on the annexation of Texas. As public opinion in the South
favored the measure, while in the North it was opposed, the tactician,
whose object was to gain votes for his party, published two editions of
his letter. The edition intended for the South was bold in its advocacy
of annexation; but that designed for Northern circulation was remarkable
for its ambiguity.
Mr. Prentiss denounced the trick on the "stump." Grasping the two
letters, he threw them under his feet, saying,--
"I wonder that, like the acid and the alkali, they do not _effervesce_
as they touch each other!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"UP TO SNUFF."
A genial observer of our public men is amused at the political dexterity
of those anxious to serve as presidential candidates. If he is a
veteran, as well as a genial observer, he smiles as he compares these
'prentice hands with the master of political adroitness, Martin Van
Buren.
Looking upon politics as a game, Mr. Van Buren played it with forecast
and sagacity, and with the utmost good-nature.
"He was the mildest manner'd man
That ever scuttled"
a Whig ship, or cut off a politician's head. No excitement quickened his
moderation. Even the most biting of personal sarcasms failed to ruffle a
temper that seemed incapable of being disturbed.
Once, while Mr. Van Buren, being the Vice-President, was presiding over
the Senate, Henry Clay attacked him in a speech freighted with sarcasm
and invective.
Mr. Van Buren sat in the chair, with a quiet smile upon his face, as
placidly as though he was listening to the complimentary remarks of a
friend.
The moment Mr. Clay resumed his seat, a page handed him Mr. Van Buren's
snuff-box, with the remark,--
"The Vice-President sends his compliments to you, sir."
The Senate laughed at the coolness of the man who was "up to snuff." The
great orator, seeing that his effort had been in vain, shook his finger
good-naturedly at his imperturbable opponent, and taking a large pinch
of snuff, returned the box to the boy, saying,--
"Give my compliments to the Vice-President, and say that I like his
snuff much better than his politics."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *