Daniel Webster and his contemporaries. By Charles W. March

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DANIEL WEBSTER

AND HIS

CONTEMPORARIES.

BY

CHAELES W. MAECH

FOUKTH EDITION.

NEW YORK :

CHARLES SCRIBXER, 145 NASSAU STREET.

1852.

EiiLarcd according to Act of Congresb in the year 1850, by

BAKERAND SCRIBNER,

In tho Clcrk'd Office of the' District Court of the United States for tlie
Southern District of New York.

C W . BENEDICT,

Slcrcotijper and PrinUr
-201 William street.

5pt "-

e

'3 f^ ■

MS-

PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION.

On publishing a fourth edition of this work, it has heen
deemed advisable to chano;e its title. " Reminiscences op
Congress " has been considered a misnomer. Such a title is
no true index of the contents of the work, and is not of itself
attractiv^e. This, let us hope, is one of the many reasons why a
discriminating public has called but for three, instead of nume-
rous editions of the book.

As Mr. Webster is the principal figure of the work, and no
one else is spoken of, save in connection with him, it has been
supposed thftt "Daniel Webster and his Contemporaries"
would be a more proper designation of the volume. The name
of Daniel-Webster, known and honoured for so many years
throughout the world, has gained new lustre from recent events,
and the public mind has become more eager to grasp at and
appreciate whatever has been written of his life and deeds.

C. W. MARcn.
N. Y., J2il}j Is?, 1852.

PREFACE.

It was tlie original design of the author to have given a
Buries of descriptive sketches of scenes and persons in
Congress, unconnected with any antecedents or relations of
the individuals introduced ; but, finding on examination of
what had been written that Mr. Webster formed the prin-
cipal figure in each efibrt of his pen, he concluded to give
the book a more personal character, and make it an
approximation to a biography. This change of design will
be detected in any, the most cursory, glance at the book ;
there being a want of congruity or unity too easily dis-
cernible throughout.

The writer need not say that he has not attempted a
complete biography. It is difficult, if not absolutely im-
possible, to wi'ite the life of the living. It is not merely
that friendship would be too partial, or enmity too censorious,

IV PREFACE.

to present a true estimate of the character and conduct of
the person illustrated — the difficulty in obtaining correct
information is greater during the life of a person, para-
doxical as it may seem, than after his decease. When one
eminent in life has gone down to the grave, numbers come
forward with ambitious haste, some with letters, some with
anecdotes, some with facts illustrative of the character
and pursuits of the deceased, and of their relationship to
him. The grief we feel at the departure of a distinguished
friend is greatly mitigated by the public sympathy with our
loss, and we hasten to give that sympathy a proper direction.

Besides, of what we gain as authentic, we are obliged
to suppress a part ; if not from regard to the feelings of
the person, who is the subject of our memoir, yet from
regard to the feelings of others whose relations with him
might be affected unfavorably through our indiscreetness.
There are many things told, in the intimacy of friendship,
m the abandon of social intercourse, that it would be grossly
reprehensible as well as indelicate to give publicity to.

The earlier part of Mr. Webster's life, rapidly sketched,
it was thought, would lend new interest to his public career ;
— we like to trace greatness, if possible, to its seminal
principle, and dwell upon its gradual development. The
writer of these pages might have given a fuller account of
this part of Mr. Webster's life, had he not been restrained

PREFACE. 7

by tlie fear of subjecting himself to a suspicion of having
made too liberal use of the opportunities of private friend-
ship. What has been given he hopes will prove not un-
interestinoj.

New York, July I8tk, 1850

l, 1 .

CONTENTS.

' CHAPTER I.

Pag«

Birthplace of Daniel "Webster — His Early Studies— Admission to
the Bar, and Practice. . . . . , 1

CHAPTER II.

Entrance into Congress — Maiden Speech— His Associates — Mr.

Clay, ]\Ir. Calhoun — His Argument in the Dartmouth College

Case. ..... • • 31

«

CHAPTER III. ' I-

R'-emoval to Boston — Return to Congress — Speeches on the Greek
and Panama Questions. ..... 59

CHAPTER IV.

introduction to the " Hayne Controversy" — Description of Parties
thereto. . ...... 84

CHAPTER V.

First Speech in Reply to Hayne — Col. Hayne's Retort. ; 107

CHAPTER VI.
Second Speech in Reply to Hayne — ^Descriptive Narrative thereof 129

Vill CONTENTS.

Fags

CHAPTER VII.

Continuation of the Hayne Debate — The General Opinion of Mr.
Webster's Effort — Its Merit as Contrasted with other Speeches. 15"^

CHAPTER VlII.
Murder of Joseph Wliite in Salem, Mass. — Mr. Webster's Argument. 170

CHAPTER IX.
The Nullification Controversy. .... 181

CHAPTER X.
Various Speeches upon the Subject. . • . .201

CHAPTER XI.

Speech of Mr Calhoun — Reply of Mr. Webster. . . 224

CHAPTER XII.
Mr. Webster's Visit to the West — His Speeches on the Occasion 244

CHAPTER XIII.

JElemoval of the Deposites — Gen. Jackson's Protest — Mr. Webster's
Reply. . . . . . . . . 264

DANIEL WEBSTER.

CHAPTER I.

Daniel "Webster was born on the IStli day of January,
1782, in the town of Salisbury, New Hampshire. His earliest
ancestor, of whom the family has any certain knowledge, was
Thomas Webster. He was settled in Hampton as early as
1636. The descent from him to Daniel Webster can be
found recorded in the Church and Town Records of Hamp-
ton, Kingston, (now East Kingston) and Salisbury.

The family came originally from" Scotland, two centuries
ago and more. It is probable, however, from certain circum-
stances, that they tarried in England awhile, before emigrat
ing to a new world. They did not bring over with them all
the distinguishing peculiarities of their countrymen ; the
Scottish accent had become a mere tradition, in the time of
Mr. Webster's father's father. The personal characteristics
of the family are strongly marked : light complexions, sandy-
hair in great profusion, bushy eyebrows, and slender rather
than broad frames attest the Teutonic and common origin of

the race. Dr. Noah Webster, — the compiler of the Diction-
1

2. CHAPTER I.

ary, — was, in personal appearance, tlie vera effigies of tho
family.

Tlie uncles of Daniel Webster had the same characteristics
They were fair-hairecl, and of rather slender form. His father
however, was of a different physical organization. No two per-
Bons could look like each other less than Ezekiel Webster —
the father of Daniel — and either of his brothers. They re-
sembled their father, who had the hereditary features and
form ; but Ezekiel Webster had the black hair, eyes, and
complexion of his mother, whose maiden name was Bachelder.
She was a descendant of the E.ev. Stephen Bachelder, a
man famous in his time, in the County of Rockingham, and
towns circumjacent. There are many persons now alive in
Kingston, who v/ill tell you they have heard their fathers say,
she was a woman of uncommon strength of character, and
sterlino- sense. Daniel and his only brother of the whole
blood, Ezekiel, alone of the five sons of Ezekiel Webster, had
the Bachelder complexion ; the others ran off into the general
characteristics of the race.

Many persons in Kingston and Salisbury still live who re-
<;ollect Ebenezer Webster well. They say his personal ap-
pearance was striking. He was tall and erect ; six feet in
heio-ht ; of a stalwart form,, broad and full in the chest. His
complexion was swarthy, features large and prominent : with
a Roman nose, and eyes of a remarkable brilliancy. He had
a military air and carriage, — the result, perhaps, of his service
in the army. He enlisted, early in life, as a common soldier

DANIEL V/EBSTEK 3

in tlie Provincial troops, and during ttie war of '56 served
under G-cn. Amherst, on the north-western frontier ; ac
companying that commander in the invasion of Canada. He
attracted the attention and secured the good-will of his su-
perior ofScers, by his faithful and gallant conduct ; and before
the close of the war, rose from the ranks to a captaincy.
Peace between England and France soon following the capture
of Quebec and conquest of Canada, the Provincial troops wero
disbanded, and returned to their homes.

Previous to the year 1763, the settlements in New ITamp
shire had made little or no progress towards the interior of the
State, for more than half a century. The fitful irruptions of
the French from Canada and the more constant if not more
cruel assaults of their subsidized allies — the Indians — repressed
any movement inward, into the country. To defend what
they held, by a kind of cordon militaire of block-houses, was
all the frontier-men hoped.

The session of Canada, however, to England, by the Treaty
of Paris in 1763, removing the great obstacle to farther pro-
gress into the interior, the royal G-overnor of New Hampshire,
Benning Wextv,'orth, began to make grants of townships
in the central part of the State. Col. Stevens with some other
persons about Kingston, — mostly reth-ed soldiers, — obtained a
grant of the township of Salisbury, then called, from the prin-
cipal grantee, Stevens'-town. This town is situated exactly
at the liead-waters of the Merrimac Eiver : which river is
formed by the confluence of the Pemigiwasset and Winni-

4 CHAPTER I.

piseogee. Under this grant, Ebenezer AYebtter obtained a lot
situate in the north part of the town. More adventurous than
others of the company who obtained grants, he cut his way-
deeper into the wilderness, making the road he could not find.
Here, in 1764, he built a log-cabin and lighted his fire.
" The smoke of which," his son has since said on some public
occasion, " ascended nearer the North Star than that of any
of his majesty's New England subjects." His nearest civi-
lized neighbor in the North was at Montreal, hundreds of
miles off.

His first wife dying soon after his settlement at Salisbury,
Ebenezer Webster married Abigail Eastman of Salisbury,
a lady of Welsh extraction. She was the mother of
Daniel and Ezekiel ; and, like the mother of Greorge Canning,
was a woman of far more than ordinary intellect. She was
proud of, and ambitious for her sons ; and the distinction
they both afterwards achieved, may have been, in part,
at least, the result of her promptings. The mother knows
better than any one the mollia tem^ora fandi. She knows
what are words in season ; when the mind is most ductile,
and most capable of impressions intended to be permanent.
If from our fathers we gain hardihood, mental or physical,
and worldly wisdom, in all its ^'^i-iety, it is our mother, with
her earnest, devoted^ life-long Ic . , . ''ates into healthy
activity, whatever of good lie ■- "'^art; in-

spiring us to seek, if not for o - ,. n.or-

ablo position, and an unequalled

DANIEL WEBSTER. 5

Ebenezer "Webster commemorated Ms second marriage, by
the erection of a frame-bouse , bard bj the log cabin. He dug
a well near it, and planted an elm sapling. In this bouse, the
subject of our memoir was born. The bouse has long since
disappeared, from roof to foundation-stone. Nothing indi-
cates its sometime existence but a cellar mostly filled up by
stone and earth. But the well still remains, with water as
pure, as cool, as limpid, as when first turned to the light : and
will remain, in all probability, for ages, to refresh hereafter
the votaries of genius, who make their pilgrimage hither to
visit the cradle of one of her greatest sons. The elm that
shaded the boy still flourishes in vigorous leaf, and may have
an existence beyond its perishable nature. Like " the witch-
elm that guards St. Fillan's Spring," it may live in story, long
after leaf, and branch, and root have disappeared for ever..

It is a belief, I suspect almost universal, that natural
scenery has great power over the development of character,
moral and intellectual. That upon the impressionable mind
of infancy, scenes, whether remarkable for traditionary inte-
rest, sublimity, ruggedness, or loveliness, stamp sensations
of an indelible character ; awaken, if they do not create,
the poetic faculty. Burns, Byron, Burke, and Scott, are
claimed by their several biographers as conclusive illustrations
of the influence, picturesque nature exercises over the imagi'
nation and heart. The countless treasures of fancy and
beauty, the high and solemn thoughts, the poetic fervor and
luxuriant imagination which characterise, in a greater or less

CHAPTER I.

degree, the productions of tliese extraordinary men may
have been suggested, or at least fully developed, by the
striking features of the scenery, in the midst of which their
earlier days were passed. The romantic localities of Ayr,
the wild and picturesque scenery of the Highlands near Balla
trech, the rich, deep, and gorgeous views near by the old
castle of Kilcolman — once the favorite residence of the poet
Spenser — and the vicinity of Sandy Knowe, with its crags
and cliffs, its ruined towers, and " mountains lone," severally
the residences in early youth of Burns, Byron, Burke and
Scott, may have given rise to feelings, which, increasing with
earnest nourishment, till thoy became irrepressible from indul-
gence, found suitable expression afterwards in beautiful and
nervous diction ; in heroic verse, or glowing prose.

There is little softness or subdued expression in the features
of the landscape round about Mr. Webster's birth-place.
The bleak, harsh, stern hills, among which his cradle hunp*
high in the air, like the eyrie of an eagle, are all untamed,
untameable. But in their sadness, and deep but not voice-
less solemnity, they are suggestive of lonely musings and
thoughts original and lofty as themselves. They feed the
hungry mind with images noble, elevated, and partaking of
their own immortality. The laboring clouds in their vague
career, often rested on the summits of these hills, covering
them over as with a garment, so that they presented at times
to the belated traveller of the valleys, the appearance of tur-
"baned giants. Their scarred faces attested the violence of

DANIEL WEBSTE..

the tempests that ranged around them, and boat upon them.
In winter, which lasted half the year, snows of a prodigious
and dangerous depth covered the ground, obliterating every
landmark, and giving to all nature an aspect of desolate sub-
limity. "While, sometimes, in spring, a sudden and vast thaw
would unloosen the embrace with which the snows held on to
the mountains, and precipitate them in fearful volume, with
the force and rush of the avalanche, into the valleys below ;
making of quiet streams mighty rivers, dangerous to ford or
even approach ; the crash of the pines in the woods, as they
were borne to the earth by the superincumbent mass of snow,
performing fit accompaniment to the scene.

In Jylr. Webster's earliest youth an occurrence of such a na-
ture took place, which affected him deeply at the time, and
has dwelt in his memory ever since. There was a sudden and
extraordinary rise in the Merimac Kiver, in a spring thaw. A
deluge of rain for two whole days poured down upon the houses.
A mass of mingled water and snow rushed madly from the hills,
inundating the fields far and wide. The highways were broken
up, and rendered undistinguishable. There was no way for
neighbors to interchange visits of condolence or necessity,
save by boats, which came up to the very door-steps of the
houses. • '

Many things of value were swept away, even things of bulk.
A large barn, full fifty feet by twenty, crowded with hay and
grain, sheep, chickens and turkeys, sailed majestically down the
river, before the eyes of the astonished inhabitants ; who, no

8 CHAPTER I.

little frightened, got ready to fly to tlie mountains, or construct
another Ark.

The roar of waters, as they rushed over precipices, casting
the foam and spray far ahove, the crashing of the forest-trees
as the storm broke through them, the immense sea every where
in range of the eye, the sublimity, even danger of the scene,
made an indelible impression upon the mind of the youthful
observer. - ' ' ' .

Occurrences and scones like these excite the imaginative
faculty, furnish material for proper thought, call into existence
'-new emotions, give decision to character, and a purpose to ac-
tion. ' "" -

It was the great desire of Ebenezer Webster to give his
children an education. A man of strong powers of mind
and much practical knowledge himself, he still had felt deeply
and often the want of early education, and wished to spare his
sons the mortification he had experienced. The schoolmaster
then was not abroad, at least had not visited Salisbury in his
travels. Small town-schools there were, it is true, and persons
superintending them called teachers — lucus a non lucendo.
But these schools were not open half the year, and the school-
masters had no claim to the position but their incapacity for
anything else. Their qualification was their want of qualifica-
tion. Eeading and writing were all they professed, and more
than they were able, to teach.

The school was migratory. "When it was in the neighbor-
hood of the Webster residence, it was easy to attend ; but

DANIEL WEBSTER £

when it was removed into another part of the town, or another
town, as was often the case, it was somewhat difficult. While
Mr. Webster was quite young, he was daily sent two miles and
a half or three miles to school, and, in the midst of winter, on
foot. For carriages or carriage-roads then " were not ;" and^
with the exception of an occasional ride on horseback, he
walked daily to school and back. If the school moved yet
farther off, into a town not contiguous, his father boarded him
out in a neighboring family. He was better provided with op-
portunities for obtaining whatever of instruction these schools
could impart than his elder brothers, partly because he evinced
early an irrepressible thirst for study and information, and
partly because his father thought that his constitution was
slender and somewhat frail — too much so for any robust occu-
pation. But Joe, his elder half-brother, who was somewhat
of a wag, used to say that " Dan was sent to school, in order
that he might know as much as the other boys."

Mr. Webster had no sooner learnt to read, than he showed
great eagerness for books. He devoured all he could lay hands
upon. When he was unable to obtain new ones, he read the
old ones over and over, till he had committed most of their
contents to memory. Books were then (as Br. Johnson said
on some occasion) " like bread in a besieged town ; every man
might get a mouthful, but none a full meal." What were ob-
tained, were husbanded with care. Owing chiefly to the exer-
tions of Mr. Thompson, (the lawyer of the place,) of the cler-
gyman, and Mr. Webster's father, a very small cii'culatmg 11-
1*

10 CHAPTER I

brary was purchased. These institutions ahout this time re-
ceived an impetus from the zeal and labors of Dr. Belknap,
the celebrated historian of New Hampshire^

Among the few books of the library, I have heard Mr.
Webster say, he found the Spectator, and that he remembers
turning over the leaves of Addison's Criticism upon Chevy
Chase, for the sake of reading, connectedly, the ballad, the
verses of which Addison quotes from time to time, as subjects
of remark. " As Dr. Johnson said, in another case, the poet
was read, and the critic neglected. I could not understand
why it was necessary that the author of the Spectator should
take so great pains to prove that Chevy Chase was a good
story." ~ . '

The simple, but sublime story of Che-vy Chase, would be no
indifferent test for the discovery of how much or how little of
the poetic faculty there might be in an individual. None but
those who had some poetic fervor could appreciate or even un-
derstand it : while those who felt its pathos, its beauty and
grandeur most, needs must have the deepest sensibilities. A
distinguished literary character has said that he would have
been prouder to have been its author than of all the productions
from which he derived his fame. Sir Philip Sydney said he
never read it but his heart was stirred within him as at the
sound of a trumpet. . ,

Mr. Webster was early very fond of poetry. He was not
satisfied with reading it merely, but committed a great deal to
memory. The whole Essay on Man he could recite verhatiu

DANIEL WEBSTER H

"before lie was fourteen years old. A habit of attentive exclusive
devotion to the subject before Lim, aided by a wonderful
memory, fixed everything deeply in his mind. It is this art,
or talent, or genius, that works the miracles we read and be-
hold He had a great taste, too, for devotional poetry : Watts'
Psalms and Hymns he committed to memory, not as a re-
ligious task, but as a pleasure. Nor was he less fond of, or
less acquainted with, the sublime poetry of the Bible. Evi-
dence of this is found everywhere in his works : for there is
scarcely a speech or production of his that does not contain
ideas or expressions, the types of which may be found in that
book.

When he had attained his fourteenth year, his father took
an important and decisive step with him. On the 25th day
of May, 1796, Ebenezer Webster mounted his horse, put his
son on another and proceeded with hun to Exeter. He there
placed him in Phillip's academy, then under the care of Dr.
Benjamin Abbot, its well-known and respected President.
The change was very great to a boy, who had never been from
home before, and who now found himself among some ninety
other boys, — a stranger among strangers, — all of whom had
probably seen more of the world, and assumed to know so
much more of it, than himself. But he was not long in re-
conciling himself to the change, and to his new duties. He
was immediately put to English grammar, writing and arith-
metic. A class-mate of his has informed me that he mastered
the principles and philosophy of the first, between May and

12 CHAPTRR I.

October of tliat year ; and that in the other studies he made
respectable progress ; in the autumn he commenced the study
of the Latin language ; his first exercises in which were re-
cited to Joseph Stevens Buckminster, who was acting (in
eome college vacation, I think) as assistant to Dr. Abbott.

It may appear somewhat singular that the greatest orator
of modern times should have evinced in his boyhood the
strongest antipathy to public declamation. This fact, however,
is established by his own words, which have recently appeared
in print. " I believe," says Mr. Webster, " I made tolerable
progress in most branches, which I attended to, while in this
school ; but there was one thing I could not do. I could not
make a declamation. I could not speak before the school.
The kind and excellent Buckminster sought especially to per-
suade me to perform the exercise of declamation, like other
boys, but I could not do it. Many a piece did I commit to
memory, and recite and rehearse in my own room, over and
over again ; yet when the day came, when the school collected
to hear declamations, when my name was called, and I saw
all eyes turned to my seat, I could not raise myself from it.
Sometimes the instructors frowned, sometimes they smiled.
Mr. Buckminster always pressed and entreated, most winning-
ly, that I would venture. But I never could command suf-
ficient resolution." Such diffidence of its own powers may be
natural to genius, nervously fearful of being unable to reach
that ideal which it proposes as the only full consummation of
its wishes. It is fortunate, however, for the age, fortunate for

DANIEL WEBSTER. " 13

all ages, that Mr. Webster by determined will and frequent
trial overcame this moral incapacity — as his great prototype,
the G-recian orator, subdued his physical defect.

He remained at the Exeter academy but a few months •,
accomplishing in these few months, however, the work of years
vO some. In February, 1797, his father placed him under
the tuition of the Eev. Samuel Woods, in Boscawen ; of whom
his pupil always speaks in terms of affection and respect. He
boarded in his family ; and I have heard him say that Mr.
Woods' whole charge for instruction, board, &c., was but one
dollar per week. W"e pay much dearer now for much less.

It was on their way to the house of Mr. Woods that his
father first opened to him his design of sending him to college
— a purpose that seemed to him impossible to be fulfilled. It
was so much more extravagant than his most extravagant
hopes. It had never entertained his mind a moment. A col-
legiate education in those days was something of far greater
importance than in these, when the ability to command it is
so general. It made a marked man of thousands. It gave
the fortunate graduate at once position and influence ; and, if
not genius, or eminent ability, supplied or concealed the want
thereof. The alumnus surveyed life from an eminence, and
could aspire to its chiefest honors by a kind of prescriptive
right.

Most grateful to his father for the prospect held out through
his self-sacrificing devotion, Mr. Webster applied himself to
his studies with even increased ardor. All that Mr. Woods

14 CHAPTER I.

could teach he learnt. Among other hooks, he read Yirgil
and Cicero J both of whom he faithfully studied, the latter he
warmly admired. Of the Latin classics, I presume, there is
not one so familiarly known to Mr. Webster as Cicero. It
may seem a little strange, indeed, that with all his early, eager
and constant study of Eome's greatest orator, he should not
have imitated unconsciously his manner of expression or
thought. He much more resembles Demosthenes, in vigor
and terseness of expression, and in copious vehemence ; whose
works, in the meanwhile, he never so completely mastered.

At Boscawen, Mr. "Webster was fortunate to find another
circulating library, the volumes of which he fully appreciated
It was in this library, he met, for the first time, Don Quixote
in English. " I began to read it," (I have heard him say,^)
'■'■ and it is literally true that I never closed my eyes till I had
finished it ; nor did I lay it down any time for five minutes ;
so great was the power of this extraordinary book on my
imagination."

In the summer of this year, August, 1797, he entered
Dartmouth College, as a freshman.

His college life, it can be easily believed, was not an idle
one. With such a desire for the acquisition of all kinds of
knowledge, the danger to be apprehended was, he would un-
dertake too much rather than too little ; that his reading
would be too miscellaneous, and that he would acquire, there-
from, habits of mental carelessness. From the testimony of
his intimates in college, it is known that he read constantly.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 15

Besides a regular attention to the prescribed studies of his
class, he devoted himself to the acquisition of whatever was
useful in English history, or graceful and becoming in English
literature. He superintended also the publication of a little
weekly newspaper, making selections for it from books and
periodicals, and contributing, occasionally, an editorial of his
own. These were, perhaps, the first of his productions ever
published. I know not if they are to be met with now. He
delivered some addresses while in college, before literary so-
cieties, which also were published.

Ezekiel Webster — the sole brother of Daniel of the whole
blood — was destined by his father to remain at home and
carry on the farm. But he had aspirations beyond this, and
so had his brother for him. Accordingly, when Daniel re-
turned home on a visit in his sophomore year, in the spring of
'99, he held serious consultation with his brother Ezekiel, in
relation to his wishes. It was resolved between them, that
Ezekiel too should go to college, and that Daniel should be
the organ of communication with their father on the subject.
He lost no time in opening the negotiation, and experienced
no great difficulty in obtaining the consent of his father, who
lived only for his childi-en, to their design. The result was
that in about ten days, Mr. Webster had gone back to college,
having first seen his brother bid adieu to the farm, and plaoa
himself in school under a teacher in Latin. Soon afterwards
Ezekiel went to Mr. Woods, and remained with him till he

16 - CHAPTER I.

was fitted for college. In March, 1801, Ms father carried
him to college, where he joined the Freshman class.

He had not great quickness of apprehension nor vivacity of
intellect, and was not therefore early estimated at his full
value. Eut he had a strong mind, great powers of observa-
tion, and memory. He acquired slowly but safely. Not
fiuent of speech, he was correct always in language and
thought. Few eKcelled him in clearness or vigor of style,
none in argumentative ability. He wanted but opportunity to
have been a great man.

He fell dead, while arguing a cause in Concord, New Hamp-
shire, in 1829. A handsome monument was erected to his
memory in Boscawen, where he was buried.

Mr. Webster, while in college, during the winter vacations,
kept school, to pay the collegiate expenses of his brother as
well as his own. Being graduated in August, 1801, he
immediately entered Mr. Thompson's office in Salisbury, as a
student of law, and remained there till January following.
The res angusta domi seemed then to require that he should
go somewhere and do something to earn a little money. An ap-
plication was at this time made to him from Fryeburg, Maine, to
take charge of a school there. He accepted the offer, mount-
ed his horse, and commenced his labors on reaching Fryeburg.
His salary was $350 per annum, all of which he saved ; as he
made besides a sum sufficient to pay his board and other
necessary expenses, by acting as assistant to the Register of
Deeds for the County, to whose chirography there was the one

DANIEL VfEESTER. 17

objection of illegilbilit3^ The ache is not yet out of Ms fingers
— I have heard Mr. Webster say — which so much writing
caused them. ■>

In Fryeburg, he found also a circulating library, which he
ran through. Here he borrowed and read for the first time
Blackstone's Commentaries. Among other mental exercises,
he committed to memory Mr. Ames' celebrated speech on the
British Treaty.

In September, 1802, he returned to Mr. Thompson's office,
in which he remained till February, 1804. Mr. Thompson
was an excellent man and a respectable lawyer ; but he did
not understand how to make the study of the law either agree-
able or instructive. He put his students to study after the
old fashion, that is, the hardest books first. Coke's Littleton
was the book in those daj^s upon which pupils were broken in,
• — which is like teaching arithmetic, by beginning with difer-
ential calculus. " A boy of twenty," says Mr. Webster,
" with no previous knowledge on such subjects cannot under-
stand Coke. It is folly to set him upon such an author.
There are propositions in Coke so abstract, and distinctions
so nice, and doctrines embracing so many conditions and
qualifications, that it recpjres an effort not only of a mature
mind, but of a mind both strong and mature, to understand
him. Why disgust and discourage a boy by telling him he
must break through into his profession through such a wall
as this ?" ■ - '

Mr. Webster soon laid aside Coke till " a more convenient
2 -

18 CHAPTER I.

season," and, m the meanwiiile, took up other more plain,
easy, and intelligible anthors.

While not engaged in the study of the law, he occupied
himself with the Latin classics. He added greatly to what
acquisitions he had made in the language, while in college
reading Sallust, Caesar, and Horace. Some odes of the latter
which he translated into English, were published.

But books were not at this time of his life, as they never
have been, Mr. Webster's sole study. He then was fond, and
has been through life, of the manly field sports, — fishing,
shooting and riding. These brought him into near communion
with Nature and himself; supplied him with the material and
opportunity for thought ; made him contemplative, logical
and earnest. At a subsequent period of his life, he found
that the solitary rides he was wont to indulge in afibrded hun
many an edifying day. The great argument in the Dartmouth
College case was principally arranged in a tour he made from
Boston to Barnstable and back. John Adams' speech before
the Philadelphia Convention in '76, was composed by Mr.
Webster, while taking a drive in a New England chaise. His
favorite sport of angling gave him many a favorable opportunity
for composition. The address for Bunker Hill (for instance)
was all planned out even to many of its best passages, in
Marshjpee Brook ;* the orator catching trout and elaborating
sentences, at the same time.

* It is said — I know not upon what authoiity — that as the orator
drew in some /rout particularly large, he was heard to exclaim : " Ven-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 19

A like fondness for solitary rambles and sequestered spots,
is said to have characterized Canning and Burke ; who found
their fancies brighten and their philosophy invigorated by this
self-communion. With them, as with the Eoman Lawgiver,
Egeria, avoiding crowds and bustling life, was to be met with
only in solitude. So true is it that the intellectual man is
never less alone than when alone ; that to him his mind a
kingdom is, and his own thoughts his most agreeable and in-
structive companions.

In July, 1804, Mr. Webster went to Boston, and, after
some unsuccessful applications elsewhere, obtained admission
as a student in the office of the Hon. Christopher Gore, who
had then just returned from England, and resumed the prac-
tice of law. It was a most fortunate event for Mr. Web-
ster. Mr. Grore was no less distinguished a§ a lawyer, than as
a statesman and publicist, — eminent in each character, — and
was besides one of the rare examples of the highest intellectual
qualities united with sound, practical, keen common sense.
He knew mankind no less than books ; and the wisdom he de-
rived from the study of both, he could impart, in most impres-
sive language. With him Mr. Webster enjoyed the best op-
erable men ! you have come down to us from a former generation.
Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold
this joyous day." As these identical sentences appeared afterwards in
the Bunker-Hill Address, it would seem as if there was some plausibility
for the story. At least, one can say with the Italian, — Si non e vero^ e
bene trovato.

20 . CHAPTER I.

portnnity tlius far of Lis life for studying Ibooks, and men, and
things ; and he made the Lest use of the opportunity. He
attended the session of the Supreme Court which sat in August
of this year, constantly, and reported all its decisions. He
also reported the decisions of the Circuit Court of the United
States. He read diligently and carefully the books, generally,
of the Common and Municipal Law, and the best authorities
on the Law of Nations, some of them for the third time, ac-
companying these studies with a vast variety of miscellaneous
reading. His chief study, however, was the Common Law,
and more especially that part of it which relates to the science
of Special Pleading. This, one of the most ingenious and re-
fined, and at the same time instructive and useful branches of
the law, he pursued with constant devotion. Besides appro-
priating whatever Jie could of this part of the science from
Yiner, Bacon, and other books then in common study, he
waded through Saunder's Beports — the old folio edition — and
abstracted and put into English, out of the Latin and Norman-
French, the pleadings, in all the reports. This undertaking,
both as an exercise of the mind, and as an acquisition of useful
learning, was of great advantage to him in his succeeding pro-
fessional career.

An anecdote I have heard Mr. "Webster tell in relation to
his first interview with a gentleman, then and afterwards dis-
tinguished in the history of the country, it may not be improper
to relate here. " I remember one day," says Mr. Webster,
" as I was alono in the ofiice, a man came in and asked for

DANIEL WEBSTER, 21

Air. Gore. Mr. Gore was out, and lie sat down to wait for
liim. He was dressed in jDlain grey clothes. I went on with
my boob, till he asked me what I was reading, and, coming
along up to the table, took the book and looked at it. ' Roc-
cus,' said he, ^ de navihus et nando.'' "Well, I read that book
too when I was a boy ;' and proceeded to talk not only about
* ships and freights,' but insurance, prize, and other matters of
maritime law, in a manner ^ to put me up to all I knew,' and a
good deal more. The grey-coated stranger turned out to be
Mr. Rufus Kins;.'

In March, 1805, Mr. "Webster was admitted to practice, in
the Suffolk Court of Common Pleas. The custom then pre-
vailed for the patron to accompany his pupil into Court, intro-
duce him to the Judges, make a brief speech in commendation
of his studious conduct and attainments, and then move for his
admission to the Bar. A person present on the occasion of
Mr. Yv^ebster's admission, informs me that he remembers al-
most every word of Mr. Gore's speech, and that it contained,
among other things, a prediction of his pupil's future profes-
sional distinction. In all probability the prediction, as is
generally the case, aided its own accomplishment. Certainly,
the favorable opinion of such a man as Mr. Gore must have
been an additional incentive to Mr. Webs ter's ambitious hopes
and efforts.

' How much, after all, are the great men and events of his-
tory, apparently, the sport of accidents ! The destiny of in-
dividuals, and no less of nations, seems not so much the re-

22 CHAPTER 1

suit of foresiglit or determination, as of casual opinion or
caprice ; or of circumstances, more uncertain than either. An
adverse wind, neither to he anticipated nor overcome, kept the
brewer's son within the shores of England, as he sought in a
foreign clime the liberty of conscience refused him at home,
and made him absolute master of his country's fortunes. An
unsuccessful application for the Professorship of Logic in
Glasgow University precipitated Edmund Burke upon his own
energies, and gave to England its greatest philosophical orator.
The offer of the clerkship of a county court, unexpected but
not ungrateful, might, but for the earnest interposition of one
man, have deprived America and the world of an intellect, of
which neither America nor the world knows now the equal.

The clerk of the Court of Common Pleas for the county of
Hillsborough, New Hampshire, resigned his office in January,
1805. Mr. Webster's father was one of the judges of this
court ; and his colleagues, from regard for him, tendered his
son the vacant clerkship. It was what Judge Webster had
long desired. The office was worth $1500 per annum, which
was in those days, and in that neighborhood, a competency ;
or rather absolute wealth. Mr. Yf ebster himself considered
it a great prize, and was eager to accept it. He weighed the
question in his mind. On the one side he saw immediate
comfort ; on the other, at the best, a doubtful struggle. By
its acceptance, he made sure his own good condition, and,
what was nearer to his heart, that of his family. By its re-
fusal, he condemned both himself and them to an uncertain,

DANIEL WEBSTER. 23

and probaLly, liarrassing future. WliateYcr aspirations he
might have cherished of professional distinction, he was -will-
ing cheerfully to relinquish, to promote the immediate wel-
fare of those he held most dear.

But Mr. Gore peremptorily and vehemently interposed his
dissent. He urged every argument against the purpose. He
exposed its absurdity and its inconsequence. He appealed to
the ambition of his pupil ; once a clerk, he said, he always
would be a clerk — there would be no step upwards. He at-
tacked him, too, on the side of his family affection ; telling
him that he would be far more able to gratify his friends from
his professional labors than in the clerkship. '^ Go on," he
said, " and finish your studies ; you are poor enough, but
there are greater evils than 2^overty ; live on no man's favor ;
what bread you do eat, lef it be the bread of independence ;
pursue your profession ; make yourself useful to your friends,
and a little formidable to your enemies, and you have nothing
to fear."

Diverted from his design by arguments like these, it still
remained to Mr. "Webster to acquaint his father with his de-
termination, and satisfy him of its propriety. He felt this
would be no easy task, as his father had set his heart so much
upon the office ; but he determined to go home immediately,
and give him, in full, the reasons of his conduct.

It was mid-winter, and he looked round for a country
sleigh — for stage-coaches, at that time, were things unknown
in the centre of New Hampshire — and finding one that had

24 CHAPTER I.

come down to market, lie took passage therein, and in two or
three days was set down at liis father's door. (The same
journey is made now in four hours by steam.) It was evening
when he arrived. I have heard him tell the story of the inter-
view. His father was sitting before the fire, and received him
with manifest joy. He looked feebler than he had ever ap-
peared, but his countenance lighted up on seeing his clerk
stand before him in good health and spirits. He lost no time
in alluding to the great appointment — said how spontaneously
it had been made — how kindly the chief justice proposed it,
with what unanimity all assented, &c., &c. Puring this
gpeech, it can be well imagined how embarrassed Mr. Web-
ster felt, compelled, as he thought, from a conviction of duty
to disappoint his father's sanguine expectations. Neverthe-
less, he commanded his countenance and voice, so as to reply
in a sufficiently assured manner. He spoke gaily about the
office ; expressed his great obligation to their Honors, and
his intention to write them a most respectful letter ; if he
could have consented to record anybody's judgments, he
should have been proud to have recorded their Honors', &c.,
&c. He proceeded in this strain, till his father exhibited
signs of amazement, it having occurred to him, finally, that
his son might all the while be serious — '' Do you intend to
decline this office ?" he said at length. " Most certainly,"
replied his son ;''I cannot think jf doing otherwise. I mean
to use my tongue in the courts, not my pen ; to be an actor,
not a register of other men's actions."

DANIEL WEBSTER. 25

For a moment Judge Webster seemed angry. He rocked
his cliair slightly, a flash went over his eye, softened by age,
but even then black as jet, but it immediately disappeared,
and his countenance regained its usual serenity. Parental
love and partiality could not after all but have been gratifie
with the son's devotion to an honorable and distinguished pro-
fession, and seeming confidence of success in it. " Well, my
son," said Judge Webster finally, " your mother has always
said that you would come to something or nothing, she was
not sure which. I think you are now about settling that
doubt for her." The judge never afterwards spoke to his son
on the subject.

Mr. Webster having thus reconciled his father to his views
returned to Boston. In March, followino;, havino- been ad-
mitted to the bar, as before stated, he went to Amherst, New
Hampshire, where his father's court was then in session ; from
Amherst he went home with his father. His desio-n had been
to settle in the practice at Portsmouth ; but unwilling to leave
his father, who had become infirm, and had no sons at home,
he opened an office in Boscawen, near his father's residence,
and commenced the practice of his profession.

Judge Webster lived but a year after his son's commence-
ment of practice ; long enough, however, to hear his first ar-
gument in court, and to be gratified with confident predictions
of his future success. Then, like Simeon of old, he gathered
up his garments and died.

He died in April, 1806. Exposure to the hardships of a

2*

26 CHAPTER I

frontier life, more severe than we can now entertain any idea
of, tlie privations and labors lie suffered and underwent in the
Indian wars, and the war of the Kevolution, had broken in
upon a constitution naturally robust, and hastened his decease.
He was of a manly and generous character, and of a deport-
ment and manner to gain him great consideration among all
that knew him. In civil and military life, he obtained deserved
distinction. Judo-e of the Court of Common Pleas for twelve
or fourteen years, he made good, by the integrity of his pur-
pose, the clearness of his judgment, and the strength of his
character, the want of early education ; and gained for his
opinions and decisions a confidence and concurrence not
always accorded to persons professionally more learned. He
was distinguished also in his military career. Entering the
army a private, he retired a major ; and won his commission
by faithful and gallant service, as well in the Revolutionary,
as in the French and Indian wars. He acted as major under
Stark, at Bennington, and contributed no little to the fortunate
result of that day.

In May, 1807, Mr. Webster was admitted as attorney and
counsellor of the Superior Court in New Hampshire, and in
September of that year relinquished his office in Boscawen to
his brother Ezekiel, who had then obtained admission to the
bar, and moved to Portsmouth, according to his original inten-
tion.

He married in June, 1808, Grace Fletcher, the daughter of
the Bev. Mr. Fletcher, of Hopkinton, N. H. By her he

DANIEL WEBSTER. - 27

had four children ; Grace, Fletcher, Julia and Edward •, hut
one of whom, Fletcher, survives. Edward died with the
army in Mexico, 1847, Major of the Massachusetts Kegiment
of Yolunteers. He was one of the most gentlemanly, amia-
ble, and honorable young n.en of the age. '>
Mr. Webster lived in Portsmouth nine years, wanting one
month. The counsel most eminent at the bar of the county
at that time, were Jeremiah Mason, Edward St. Loe Liver-
more, Jeremiah Smith, Judge of the Superior Court and
Governor of the State ; William Kins: Atkinson, Attornev-
General of the State ; George Sullivan, also Attorney-General ;
Samuel Dexter and Joseph Story, of Massachusetts, all law-
yers of much more than ordinary ability, and some of surpass-
ing excellence. No bar, at that time, probably, in the coun-
try, presented such an array of various talents. Mr. Webster's
estimate of Judge Story and Mr. Mason, expressed in public,
will form not the least important nor least enduring monument
to their fame. It will out last the sculptured marble. For
Mr. Mason, his professional rival sometimes, his friend always,
he entertained a warm regard as well as respect. Mr. Mason
was of infinite advantage to him, Mr. Webster has said, in
Portsmouth, not only by his unvarying friendship, but by the
many good lessons he taught him, and the good example he
set him in the commencement of his career. " If there be
in the country a stronger intellect," Mr. Webster once said,
" if there be a mind of more native resources, if there be a
vision that sees quicker cr sees deeper into whatever is intri-

28 CHAPTER I.

cate, or whatever is profound, I must confess I liave uot
known it."

Mr. Webster's practice, while he lived in Portsmouth, was
very much a circuit practice. He followed the Superior
Court in most of the counties of the State, and was retained
in nearly all the important causes. It is a fact somewhat sin-
gular of his professional life, that with the exception of in-
stances in which he has been associated with the attorney-
general of the United States for the time being, he has hardly
appeared ten times as junior counsel. Once or twice with
Mr. Mason, once or twice with Mr. Prescott, and with Mr.
Hopkinson, are the only exceptions within recollection.

Mr. Webster's practice in New Hampshire was never lucra-
tive. Clients then and there were not rich, and fees, conse-
quently, were not large ; nor were persons so litigious as in
places less civilized by intelligence. Though his time wag
exclusively devoted to his profession, his practice never gave
him more than a livelihood. ^ .

He never held office, popular or other, in the government
of New Hampshire. He occasionally took part in political
affairs, and was then not unfelt in his action. His vote was
always given, his voice and pen sometimes exercised, in favor
of the party whose principles he espoused. Even in that
early period of his life, however, when something perhaps,
could be pardoned to the vehemence of youth, he used no
acrimonious language of his political opponents, nor suggested

DANIEL WEBSTER. 2§

or participated in any act indicatiye of personal animosity
towards tliem.

At thirty years of age, lie had become well known and re-
spected throughout the State ; so much so, that he was elect-
ed a Kepresentative of the State in Congress, after an animat-
ed contest, in November, 1812, and took his seat at the extra
session in May, 1813.

"What has been wiitten thus far, relates rather to the pri-
vate life of Mr. Webster ; what foUows concerns, mostly, his
public ; as gathered from the records and contemporaneous
testimony. . ' .

But the ingenuous youth of the country should understand,
that Mr. Webster, great as he is, has not become so, without
great study. Greatness has not been thrust upon him. He
has studied' books, he has studied mankind, he has studied
himself, (which is the very fountain of all true wisdom,)
deej)ly and conscientiously, from his earliest youth. There
has been no unappropriated time with him ; none trifled away
Even in the hours of relaxation, he has thouo;ht of, and me-
thodized the gleanings of the Past, or prepared results for
the Future.

He laid early and solid the foundation of his fame. While
the mind was eager and facile to receive earnest impressions,
he sought after everything in the way of learning, that was
sincere, elevated, and ennobling, to fill and satisfy it. Ho pur-
sued no study he did not comprehend ; undertook no task to

30 CHAPTER I.

which he did not devote his whole mind. Whatever he strove
after, he acquired, and whatever he acquired, he retained.

It was this early and constant seeking after knowledge —
this desire unsatisfied with acquisition — this all-embracing
pursuit, that determined his intellectual character, and pre-
pared him for any encounter with the world. "What he has
said of Adams and Jefferson might be applied with equal
truth to himself. " If we could now ascertain all the causes
which gave them eminence and distinction, in the midst of
the great men with whom they acted, we should find not
amt)ng the least, their early acquisition in literature, the re-
sources which it furnished, the promptitude and facility which
it communicated, and the wide field it opened, for analogy and
illustration ; giving them, thuSj on every sul ject, a larger
view, and a broader range, as well for discus ion, as for the
government of their own conduct." . .

CHAPTER II.

The liall of debate is certainly not so dangerous as the
battle-field. Life is not involved in its struggles ; but still
tliere can be perilled in it, no less, all tliat renders life de-
sirable ; — cliaracter, position, influence. These all may be
staked ujDon the decision of the moment :

'"'' Concur ritur :
Aut cita mors^ aut victoria l<2taP

Moral and physical courage too are equally required in the one
as in the other ; there are many, indeed, who would prefer to
lead a storming party or a forlorn hope, to undergoing tlie
hazards of a forensic contest.

To Mr. Webster, a deliberative assembly was a scene o.
action entirely new. He had undergone, before his entrance
into Congress, no preliminary training. The common schoola
of our orators — State Legislatures — he knew nothing of : all
that he now saw resembled nothing he had ever seen. Yet he
was neither perplexed, nor discouraged ; he had subdued to a
great degree his early diffidence, and became self-reliant. It
may be said of him as it has been said of the younger Pitt ;

32 CHAPTER II.

the same composure, earnestness, and imposing manner, tlift
same nervous, sinewy, accurate diction, the same variety-
nicety and fullness of knowledge distinguished him on his
first rising as in his later senatorial career.

Bat at Eton or Oxford, the future orators and statesmen
of England are as regularly taught and drilled for the stations
they are intended to fill, as pupils of the Polytechnic school.
They have their mimic Parliament, where they acquire all the
formula, the routine, and official etiquette — the jus et norma
loquendi — which aid so much the success of their earliest
efforts in the House. And when they enter Parliament, they
"but exchange the scene of their contests and their triumphs.

Mr, Webster was not like them " swaddled and rocked and
dandled" into a Legislator. All he acquired was by dint of
hard, unassisted labor. He had no models upon which to
fashion himself. He had no example to encourage or w^arn.
No one can read a speech of his, and not perceive the frequent
and abundant evidence of obstacles encountered and over-
come : of independent, manly thought ; of early and close self-
disciphne ; earnest introspection ; great moral and intellectual
hardihood.

He no sooner entered Congress than he obtained a command-
ing influence there ; without hereditary name, official influence,
or party ascendancy. His success was the result of a mind
remarkably constituted for public effort ; a mind that weighed
and matured ; that rejected nothing from prejudice, and em-
braced nothing without examination ; that was full, sincere,

DANIEL WEBSTER. 33

logical, profound. It was. too, tlie result of an active, perti-
nacious diligence that has controlled his whole life.

He came into Congress in a period of great excitement
The insolent indifference of Great Britain to our niaritimo
rights had provoked the country into a declaration of war, and
hostilities were at this time at their height. It is true the
measures of douhtftil policy, which preceded the war, and its
early injudicious management, had weakened in the minds ol
the people in various sections of the country the conviction of
its justice or necessity. But in Congress, however, all the
helligerent propositions of the administration were supported
hy decisive majorities. Hexry Clay, who had urged the
declaration of war with almost as much vehemence and perti-
nacity, as Cato the destruction of Carthage, was elected
Speaker of the Lower House, by a trimnphant vote, receiving
eighty-nine out of one hundred and forty-eight ballots ; and
lent his position and great personal influence, in their whole
extent, to the support of the policy of the administration.

Mr. Webster was placed on the Committee of Foreign Af-
fairs. Though his reputation hitherto had been almost wholly?
provincial, whether from his personal deportment and appear-
ance, some fore shado wings of his ability, or from some one o.
the many inexplicable causes that give to the judgment of man
the certainty of intuition, this position was at once conceded
to him. He was placed upon the most important Committee
of the House, though one of the youngest (if not the youngest)
Member in it, and wholly new to public affairs.

34 CHAPTER ri.

Besides the distingnislied name of Clay, this Congress
boasted others of a national character. Calhoun, Forsyth
Grundy, Nathaniel Macon, AVm. Gaston, of N. C, — no
less a jurist than a statesman, — Timothy Pickering, of
Mass., John W. Taylor, of New York, C. J. Ingersoll,
and Wm. R. Kiptg, then representing North Carolina, were all
members of the House : most of them just starting, with
generous i-ivalry, upon their race of distinction.

It was on Thursday, June 10th, 1813, that Mr. Webster
made his maiden speech to the House. It was upon certain
resolutions which he introduced in relation to the repeal of the
Berlin and Milan Decrees, the first of which was in these
words : " Kesolved, That the President of the United States
be requested to inform this House, unless the public interest
should in his opinion forbid such communication, when and by
whom, and in what manner, the first intelligence was given to
this Government of the decree of the Government of France,
bearing date the 28th of April, 1811, and purporting to be a
definitive repeal of the Decrees of Berlin and Milan."

These resolutions were not introduced to embarrass the
Administration, but to elicit information that might throw
&ome light upon the proximate causes of the war, and enable
members to best judge the most proper manner of conducting
it.

Mr. Webster, in his speech on these resolutions displayed a
cautious regard for facts, a philosophical moderation of tone,
a fulness of knowledge, and an amphtude of liistorical illustra

DANIEL WEBSTER. 35

tion whicli astonished the House. There was no exaggeration
of statement or argument, no sophistry nor uncalled-for rhetoric
in his speech ; the oldest Parliamentarian could not have ex-
hibited more propriety and decency of manner or language,
nor the most able, a logic more perspicacious or more con-
vincing. There was a harmony between his thought and its
expression, that won attention and compelled admiration.
The opening of his speech was simple, unaffected, without pre-
tension, gradually gaining the confidence of his audience by its
transparent sincerity and freedom from aught resembling dis-
play. As the orator continued and grew animated, his words
became more fluent, and his language more nervous ; a crowd
of thoughts seemed rushing upon him, all eager for utterance.
He held them, however, under the command of his mind, as
greyhounds with a leash, till he neared the close of his speech,
when, warmed by the previous restraint, he poured them all
forth, one after another, in glowing language.

The speech took the House by surprise, not so much from
its eloquence as from the vast amount of historical knowledge
and illustrative ability displayed in it. How a person, un-
trained to forensic contests and unused to public affairs, could
exhibit so much Parliamentary tact, such nice appreciation of
the difficulties of a difficult question, and such quiet facility in
surmounting them, puzzled the mind. The age and inexpe-
rience of the speaker had prepared the House for no such dis-
play, and astonishment for a time subdued the expression of
its admiration.

36 CHAPTER II.

'^ No member before," says a person then in the ITouse^
*^ ever rivetted the attention of the House so closely, in hia
first speech. Members left their seats where they could not
see the speaker, face to face, and sat down, or stood on the
floor, fronting him. All listened attentively and silently, durinof
the whole speech ; and when it was over, many went up and
warmly congratulated the orator ; among whom, were some,
not the most niggard of their compliments, who most dissent-
ed from the views he had expressed," ' '

Chief Justice Marshall, writing to a friend sometime after
this speech, says : " at the time when this speech was delivered,
I did not know Mr. Webster, but I was so much struck with
it, that I did not hesitate then to state, that Mr. Webster was
a very able man, and would become one of the very first
statesmen in America, and per^iaps the very first."

The speech immediately raised its author to the first con-
sideration in the House_, and gained him great reputation
throughout the country. The object it proj)osed was merely
information respecting the time and manner in which the re-
vocation of the Berlin and Milan Decrees reached the Presi-
dent. Certain opponents, however, of the administration used
the introduction of the resolutions as an opportunity for as-
sault upon it, particularly as related to its conduct of the war.
The National Intelligencer, — the organ of the dominant party,
■ — says in the paper of June ISth: ''This debate has now
assumed such a character, that, although there is but little
opposition to Mr. Webster's motion, it has become necessary

DANIEL WEBSTER. 37

for the advocates of the present war, for the friends of the ad-
ministration, the defenders of their country's reputation, to
repel the violence of their opponents, and in turn pursue to
the inmost recesses of their coverts, and drag them forth into
the light of day."

But Mr. "Webster took no part in the debate after it had
assumed a factious character ; his object being, not to foment
party quarrels, but to carry out a national purpose.

His resolutions were carried by a large majority ; the first,
by a vote of 137 to 26 ; and President Madison, in obedience
to the call of the House, communicated full and satisfactory
information upon the subject.

Mr. Webster was not in Congress when the war with Great
Britain was commenced, nor in public life. As a private
citizen, he entertained opinions adverse to the policy of the
restrictive system and the embargo, considering them more in-
jurious in their operation to our own country than to England ;
and in this opinion, Mr. Calhoun and other prominent mem-
bers of the Republican party concurred.

When he entered Congress, war was raging. He did not
always approve either in his speeches or by his votes the man-
ner in which it was carried on ; but he never refused his vote
to any measure for defending the country, repelling invasion,
or giving greater force and vitality to the laws. He was not
unmindful that his father had fousiht the same enemy in our
revolutionary struggle ; nor would he himself have hesitated
to take the field, had the country needed his arm. Ports-

38 CHAPTER tl

mouth — the town of his residence — being threatened with at-
tack from a fleet of the enemy, hovering over the coast, he
was placed, on the nomination of John Langdon, a man of
odorous patriotism, at the head of the committee raised for its
defence.

The best way of annoying England, and crippling its ener-
gies was, he thought, by attacking her on the sea. Before he
was elected to Congress, and before war, though threatening,
had been declared, he put forth some vigorous articles in favor
of the navy ; and he had no sooner entered the House, than
he raised his voice to urge a greater attention to the character
and equipment of this gallant service. *' We were at war,"
he said afterwards, '' with the greatest maritime power on
earth. England had gained an ascendancy on the seas over
the whole combined force of Europe. She had been at war
twenty years. She had tried her fortunes on the Continent,
but generally with no success. At one time, the whole Con-
tinent had been closed against her. A long line of armed ex-
terior, an unbroken hostile array, frowned upon her from the
Gulf of Archangel, round the promontory of Spain and Por-
tugal, to the foot of the boot of Italy. There was not a port
which an English ship could enter. Everywhere on the land
the genius of her great enemy had triumphed. He had de-
feated armies, crushed coalitions, and overturned thrones ; but
like the fabled giant, he was unconquerable only when he
touched the land. On the ocean he was powerless. That

DANIEL WEBSTER, 39

field of fame was his adversary's, and her meteor flag was
streaming in triumph all over it.

'^ To her maritime ascendancy England owed everything,
and we were at war with her. One of the most charming of
her poets has said of her, that

' Her march is o'er the mountain wave,
Her hame is on the deep.'

" Now since we were at war with her, I was for intercept-
ing this march ; I was for calling upon her, and paying our
respects to her at home ; I was for giving her to know that
we, too, had a right of way over the seas, and that our
marine officers and our sailors were not entire strangers on the
bosom of the deep ; I was for doing something more with our
navy than to keep it on our shores for the protection of our
own coasts and our own harbors ; I was for giving play to its
gallant and burning spirit ; for allowing it to go forth upon the
seas, and encounter, on an open and equal field, whatever the
proudest and the bravest of the enemy could bring against it,
I knew the character of its officers, and the spirit of its sea-
men ; and I knew that, in their hands, though the flag of the
country might go down to the bottom, while they went with it,
yet that it could never be dishonored or disgraced."

The speech he delivered in favor of putting the navy in
proper condition, and sending it forth to gain laurels on a free,
open field, was one of the best he made during the session.

A quarter of a century after the war, Mr. Calhoun, in the
Senate of the United States, in some reply to Mr Webster,

40 CHAPTER 11.

made a general allusion to his votes and speeclies during tlio
war, and insinuated that they might not all bear scrutiny.
Mr. Webster, after indignantly repelling the charge, and prov-
ing its groundlessness, concluded in these words : " As I do
aot mean to recur to this subject often, or ever, unless indis
pensably necessary, I repeat the demand for any charge, any
accusation, any allegation whatever, that, throws me behind the
honorable gentleman, or behind any other man, in honor, in
fidelity, in devoted love to that country in which I was born,
which has honored me, and which I serve. I who seldom deal
in defiance, now, here, in my place, boldly defy the honorable
member to put his insinuation in the form of a charge, and to
support that charge by any proof whatever."

The challenge thus thrown out, Mr. Calhoun never accept-
ed, nor, is it probable, any other man ever will.

The principal speeches made by Mr. Webster during this
Congress, were upon his own resolutions — upon the increase
of the Navy — upon the rescinding of the Embargo, and upon
the Previous Question ; all indicative of various as well as
eminent talent.

In January, 1814, while Mr. Webster was in Washington
attending to his duties as a member of Congress, a great fire
took place in Portsmouth — in which he lost house, furniture
books, everything — a loss to him, at that time of no incon-
siderable magnitude.*

* This was the " Great Fire'' of Portsmouth. I have heard jMr

DANIEL WEBSTER. 41

In the beginning of the j^ear 1814, John Quincy Adams,
then minister to Eiissia, James A. Bayard, of Delaware^
Jonathan Eussell, of R. I., and Henry Clay, were ap-
pointed Commissioners to Gottenburg, to meet the Commis-
sioners of Great Britain under an overture proposed by the
government of that country and accepted by ours, for concert-
ing the conditions of peace between the two countries.

Webster tell an anecdote relating to the burning of his house, which it
may be worth while to repeat.

The house was the first to catch on fire. It took fire on the roof — as
was supposed, from a neighboring stable. No one was at borne but IMrs.
"Webster, her daughter Grace, and the servants — Fletcher being out at
nurse. A man by the name of Parry — an acquaintance — rushed into the
house, and seizing 3Irs. Webster by the hands exclaimed : " x.Irs. Web-
ster, don't be agitated — don"t be alarmed, IMrs. Webster." " I am not
alarmed, i\Ir. Parry. Why should I be ? What's the matter ?'' " Dont
be alarmed, Mrs. Webster — for Heaven's sake, don't be alarmed," cried
he — "there is no danger." "Danger of what?" said ^Irs. Webster — •
" What is the ma.tter, J4r. Parr}^ ?" " ]\ry dear m.adam don't be alarm^ed,
bixt your house is all onfire^ and the roof must befalling in by this time.'^

Mrs. Webster, Vv'ith great presence of mind, gave directions for saving
whatever of the furniture, &c., was easy of access ar.d removal ; some
of the neighbors hastening in to aid her. But they, however, were
obliged to leave her to take care of their own houses, wliich were soon
likewise in a blaze — many houses, and property to a large amount, were
destroyed. ' ^

Mr. Webster had been diverted from his purpose of insuring house
and furniture, and suffered in consequence a total loss, with the excep-
tioe of the few articles preserved by his wife, cf both — in all, perhaps^
$7,000.

42 CHAPTER ir.

The acceptance of tliis mission Iby Mr. Clay necessarily va-
cated tiie Speakership . On January 19tli, he resigned the
office, with these remarks : ^

" G-entleiuen, — I have attended yoii to-day, to announce
my resignation of the distinguished station in this House, with
which I have been honored by your kindness. In taking leave
of you, gentlemen, I shall he excused for embracing this last
occasion, to express to you personally my thanks for the frank
and liberal support, the chair has experienced at your hands.
Wherever I may go, in whatever situation I may be placed, I
can never cease to cherish, with the fondest remembrance,
the sentiments of esteem and respect with which you have in-
spired me." - ' • -

Certainly, no one ever presided over any deliberative body,
in this country, with more personal popularity and influence
than Mr. Clay. He governed the House with more absolute-
ness than any Speaker that preceded or followed him. It was
a power founded upon character and manners. Fearless,
energetic, decided, he swayed the timid by superior will, and
governed the bold, through sympathy. A chivalric bearing,
easy address, and a warm manner that seemed to imply a
warm heart, drew around him crowds of admirers. He culti-
vated— what our great men too much neglect — the philosophy
of manners. None knew better than he the wondrous power
in seeming trifles ; how much a word, a tone, a look can ac-
complish ; what direction give to the whole character of
opinion and conduct. There seemed nothing constrained in

DANIEL WEBSTER. 43

his courtesy, notlilng simulated ; all his manner was simple^
unaffected, ardent ; if it were not genuine, he had early arrived
at the perfection of art, and concealed the art.

As an orator, he was unequalled ; even in an assembly that
boasted of Cheves, of Lowndes, of Forsyth, and others no less
distinguished. His voice was sonorous and musical, falling
with proper cadence from the highest to the lowest tones ; at
times, when in narrative or description, modulated, smooth
and pleasing, like sounds of running water ; but when raised
to animate and cheer, it was as clear and spirit-stirring as the
notes of a clarion, the House all the while ringing with its
melody.

Oftentimes he left his chair to address the House. A call
of the House would not have brought members in more eagerly.
Few, indeed, could have indulged in such frequency of speech,
and retained personal ascendency. But his influence seemed
to increase in strength, the oftener it was exerted. He had a
wonderful tact, by which he judged, as by intuition, when the
subject, or the patience of his audience, threatened to be ex-
hausted ; and took care always to leave the curiosity of his
hearers unsatisfied.

" I was a member of the House during the war," writes
a gentleman to the editor of these papers, ^^ and was pre-
sent when Mr. Clay made his farewell speech on resigning the
Speakership. It was an impressive occasion. Not only were
all the seats of members occupied, but many senators attend-
ed, and a large miscellaneous crowd. The war which he had

44 CHAPTER II.

been most active in hastening, and most energetic in prose
cuting, lie was now commissioned with others to close. He
was the youngest of the Commissioners, hut sagacious far be-
yond his years. The hopes of the country tired of a protract-
ed struggle, grew brighter from his appointment.

" Undoubtedly, at this time, even in his youthful age, he had
no rival in popularity. His name was everywhere familiar as
^' household words." His own bearing evinced a conscious-
ness of his favor in the country. I was struck with his ap-
pearance on this occasion. There was a fire in his eye, an
elation in his countenance, a buoyancy in his whole action,
that seemed the self-consciousness of coming greatness. Hope
brightened, and joy elevated his crest. As full of confidence,
gallant bearing, and gratified look, he took his seat in the
Speaker's chair, his towering height even more conspicuous
than usual, I could not but call to mind Yernon's descrip-
tion of Henry, Prince of Wales, in Shakspeare :

" I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thigh, gallantly armed,
Rise from the ground, like feather'd Mercury, . '

And vaulted with such ease into his seat, (

As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
And wdtch the world with noble horsemanship.

" Afire at this time had not withered, nor custom staled the
infinite variety of his genius. The defects of his character
had not been developed ; prosperity had not sunned them j

DANIEL WEESTET . 45

and they lie imsproiitecl in his heart ; nor had he committed
any of the blunders of his later life, v/hich, in a political view,
have been pronounced worse than crimes.

" After he had resigned the chair, in a neat and appropri-
ate speech, he came down to the floor ; and members sur-
rounded him, to express their great grief at his withdrawal, —
mingled, however, with congratulations upon his appointment,
and with the expression of sanguine anticipations of the suc-
cess of his mission."

Mr Clay having resigned his seat, with the remarks already
quoted, Mr. Findley, of Pennsylvania, moved the following
resolution :

" Resolved^ That the thanks of this House be presented to
Henry Clay, in testimony of their approbation of his conduct,
in the arduous and important duties assigned to him as Speaker
of the House."

This resolution was carried by a vote of 144 to 9. '' The
minority on this occasion," says the National Intelligencer,
" was composed of those whose approbation, we may venture
to say, Henry Clay never courted, if he desired it."

On the retirement of Mr. Clay, Langdon Cheves, of South
Carolina, was elected Speaker, and performed the duties of the
office with great ability.

Much intellectual sparring took place this session between
Calhoun, Lowndes, Forsyth and Cheves, on one side, and
Webster, Pickering and Oakley on the other. The almost
life-Ion o' contest between Calhoun and Webster had its origin

46 CHAPTER n.

then. They have diileied on measures and principles, but
chiefly upon the construction of the Constitution, at least in
later years. Earlier in life, Mr. Calhoun contended with as
much force and eloquence for a liberal construction of this in-
etrument, as, later, for a narrow one.

But Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Webster never infused into their
political controversies the bitterness of personal feeling. Each
was too great to feel envious of the other's ability, too mag-
nanimous to withhold admiration of the other's extraordinary
endowments. Never, during their whole Parliamentary career,
did either of these distinguished gentlemen, on any occasion,
impugn the other's motives, or address him in words of unkind-
ness. They respected each other, and they respected them-
selves.

The eminence Mr. Webster rose to, even in this his first
parliamentary term, was generally acknowledged even by his
political opponents. Mr. Lowndes, who was one of the very
few who could have disputed his rank, said of him : " The
North had not his equal, nor the South his superior."

Mr. Webster was re-elected to Congress from New Hamp-
shire, in August, 1S14, after a warm political canvass.

Early in January, 1815, Mr. Dallas, of Pennsylvania, in-
troduced into the House a bill for the charter of an United
States Bank. This measure Mr. Wel/ster opposed in a speech
of great force, displaying an amount bf knowledge of the his-
tory and philosophy of finance, which astonished even those

DANIEL WEBSTER. 4

wlio lliouglit most liiglily of his abilities. lie denounced it aa
a mere paper bank — a mere macliino for fabricating irredeem-
able paper — a plan for using tlie sanction of tlie Government
to defraud the people/"^' Sir. Calhoun also opposed it, and Mr.

* " What sort of an institution, ]Mr. Speaker," said he, " is this ? I
looks less like a bank than a department of Government. It will b<=
properly the paper-money dei^artment. Its capital is Government debts
the amount of its issues will depend on Government necessities ; Gov
ernment, in effect, absolves itself from its own debts to the bank, and
by way of compensation, absolves the bank from its own contracts witl
others. This is, indeed, a wonderful scheme of finance. The Govern-
ment 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 tliis bank, like other institutions vv'hich dull and plod-
ding 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 mJne of in-
exhaustible treasure. They rely, not in the ability of the bank, but in
its beggary ; not in gold and silver collected in its vaults, to pay its debts
and fulfil its promises, but in its locks and bars, provided by statute, to
fasten its doors against the solicitations and clamors of unfortunate credi-
tors. Such an institution, they flatter themselves, Vv'ill not only be able
to sustain itself, but to buoy up the sinking credit of the Government. A
bank which does not pay, is to guaranty the engagements of a Govern-
ment which does not pay ! Thus the empty vaults of the treasr.-y are

48 CHAPTER ir.

Lowndes, in al»le speeclies, and led off against the measure
some twenty members of the Eepiihlican party. It was lost,
after a severe struggle, by the casting vote of the Speaker, Mr.
Cheves, of S. C.

It was, however, reconsidered, and amended in several im-
portant particulars. The bill, as amended, passed the House
by a large majority, Mr. Webster voting in its favor. It
passed the Senate, but not without much difficulty, and was
sent to the President, who returned it to the House where it
originated, with his reasons for refusing to sign it, the principal
of which was its inexpediency. An attempt to pass it — the
veto notwithstanding — failed entirely.

On the 8th day of January, of this year, was fought the
ever-memorable battle of New Orleans, the result of which
spread joy and exultation throughout the nation. The heroic
conduct of Gen. Jackson was the praise of every tongue ; no
encomium seemed equal to his merits. Congress, responding
to the grateful feeling of the nation, voted him thanks and
medals, in commemoration of his gallant services.* The vic-
tory was fit copestone to the war.

to be filled from the equally empty vaults of the bank, and the ingenious
hivention of a partnership between insolvents is to restore and establish
the credit of both."

* Henry Clay said, in his speech to the House, in March, ] 816 : " Whilst
the Mississippi continues to bear the tributes of the Iron Mountains and
the Alleghany to her Delta and to her Gulf of Mexico, the Sth of
January shall be remembered, and the glory of that day shall stimulate

DANIEL WEBSTER. 49

The tliirteentli Congress adjourned or. tlie 4tli of March,
1815, the date of its constitutional existence. Mr. Webster
returned to New Hampshire, and his professional avocations,
keeping company with judges, sheriffs and witnesses, plaintiffs
and defendants. lie began at this time to agitato the question
of change of residence, his practice in New Hampshire ceasing
to afford him a proper livelihood. His mind hesitated between
Albany and Boston ; till, finally, being unable to make an im-
mediate election between the two places, he postponed, for a
later period, the determination of the question.

On the re-assembling of Congress in December, 1815, Henry
Clay was again elected Speaker, no one of his party contesting
his candidatecy. He v/as welcomed back to the seat in which
he had gained such eminent distinction. His popularity
in the country had nearly reached its culminating point.
Peace with Great Britain, which the heart of the people longed
for now, as before for the declaration of war, had been satis-
factorily arranged, and partly through his agency ; and the
multitude, ever seeking some tangible object of worship, lav-
ished upon him every expression of grateful feeling and per-
sonal devotion. He was associated in thek minds with the
national glory and national prosperity. All the Grovernment
had proposed by waging war against G-reat Britain — the free-
dom of our commerce, the safety of our seamen, and the honor
of our flag, — had been secured, if not by express condition in

future patriots, and nerve the arms of unborn freemen in driving the

presumptuous inrader from our country's soil."
3*

60 CHAPTER II.

tlie Treaty of Peace, yet by tlie readiness with whicli the wai
had been entered upon, the earnestness with which it had been
carried on, and its ultimate success. Those, therefore, who
had been most warm for the declaration of war, and most ac-i
tive in its vigorous prosecution, were now most endeared to tha
hearts of the nation.

Mr. Calhoun appeared in this session as the great champion
of a National Bank, a Protective Tariff, and Internal Improve-
ments. In relation to the Tariff, he said in his well-considered
speech of April, 1816: "In regard to the question how far
manufactures ouglit to be encouraged, it was the duty of this
Grovernment, as a means of defence, to encourage domestic in-
dustry, more especially that part of it which provides the ne-
cessary materials for clothing and defence. . . -

" The question relating to manufactures, must not depend
on the abstract principle, that industry left to pursue its
own course, will find in its own interest all the encouragement
that is necessary. I lay the claims of the manufacturer en-
tirely out of view ; but on general principles, without regard
to their interest, a certain encouragement should be extended,
at least to our woollen and cotton manufactures."

Mr. Calhoun was the architect of the tariff of 1816. But
for his exertions and South Carolina votes, it had never passed.
Even the minimum^ the object afterwards of so much reviling
and wrathful rhetoric on the part of the South, was established

DANIEL WEBSTER. 51

I'ySoutlicrn votes; and tlie ^principle of protcctiori advocated,
urged, and secured.

Mr. Webster disagreed with Mr. Calliouu, and opposed tlie
high tariff policy. The bill that finally passed was amended,
on his motion, in certain important joarticiilars ; on its passage,
however, he voted against it, as being crude in its character,
and certain to be injurious in its operation tc his constituents.
It has been said that at one time Mr. Webster denied the
constitutional power of Congress to impose a tariff for protec-
tion. Such is not the case. It is true, however, that in a
speech at Faneuil Hall, sometime in 1820, he contended that
if the power of protection be inferred only from the revenue
power, the protection could only be incidental ; that duties
ought not be laid for the mere object of protection.

But I^Ir. Madison's published opinion, after this period, and
his declaration that the Convention which framed the Consti-
tution did intend to grant the ]30wer of protection, under tJie
commercial clause^ were conclusive, in Mr. Webster's judgment,
of the power. And the policy of the tariff having become the
settled and established policy of the country, he acquiesced in
and supported it.

In his speech against chartering the Bank of the United
States, which he delivered in February, '16, Mr. Webster
displayed an amount of financial knowledge, which surprised the
House no less than his acquaintance with the history and
policy of other countries, as made known to Congress in his
speech two years before. His mind grasped all the details, as

52 CHAFTEK II.

well as tlie more prominent principles of tlie financial system,
and defined tliern clearly to liis audience. He introduced
amendments restrictive of tlie powers and privileges of tlio
bank, which he carried through by his earnest argument of
their necessity ; among others, one which made it compulsory
and penal on the bank to pay its deposits in specie, as well as
its notes and bills ; and another, limiting the right of the in
stitution to sue, in State Courts alone, instead of " all courts
whatsoever," as provided for in the original bill.

He disliked, and protested against, the participations of the
government in the direction and management of the bank, —
contending it would be alike injurious to both parties ; and
urged, with much vehemence of argument, other fatal objec-
tions to the bill.

But it 23assod the House by a vote of 82 to 61. John
Randolph, with other republicans, less distinguished, voting in
the negative.

Mr. Calhoun too, was the father of the system of National
ImiDrovcments. Early in the next session of Congress — in
December, 1S16 — a committee was raised on his motion, of
which he was appointed chairman, to consider the propriety
of setting apart the lonuSj which the Bank of the United
States paid for its charter, amounting to one million five hun-
dred thousand dollars, and also the dividends in the stock of
the Bank belonging to the United States, as a permanent fund
for internal improvements j and, soon after, reported a bill for

DANIEL WEBSTER. 63

carrying out tlie objects for wliicli tlie committee liad Leen ap-
pointed.

In tlie Committee of the "\Yhole House on tliis bill, he
made a very able, argumentative speech on the general j^olicy
of national improvements, and the power of Congress over
the subject,

" Let us make," says he, '' permanent roads, not like the
Komans, with the view of subjecting and ruling provinces, but
for the more honorable purposes of defence, and connecting
more closely the interests of various sections of this great
country.

"" Let us bind the Ptopublic together, with a perfect system
of roads and canals. Let us conquer space. It is thus the
most distant parts of the Republic will be brought within a
few days travel of the centre ; it is thus that a citizen of the
West will read the nevv^s of Boston still moist from the press."

In truth, no one member of this celebrated fourteenth Con-
gress, acquired more national reputation than Mr. Calhoun.
His early parliamentary career gave promise of permanent
utility to the whole country. The liberality of his views, the
earnestness and ability with wliicli they were expressed, and the
sympathy and co-operation with which they were met, gave
assurance to the country of a prosperous Future.

Men watched his star rising in the clear unclouded sky, and
rejoiced, for they thought to see it bring in its train national
health, happiness and greatness. A Southerner by birth, he
expressed and advocated no local views ; but, with a mind as

54 CHAPTER rr.

vast as its interesis, embraced in liis language and his action,
tlie whole country. His popularity was, as liis views, national ;
in Massachussetts he was no less regarded than in South
Carolina ; his name was familiarized everywhere.

He soon after became a member of Mr. Munroe's cabinet
and, in that position, lent now force to the policy he had so
warmly advocated while in Congress. In fact, by this time,
his cono-ressional and ministerial services had determined the
minds of many influential politicians in various sections of the
country, to bring him out as the most proper candidate for
the presidency. In the North, he was especially a favorite.
His efficient advocacy of internal improvements, sound cur-
rency, and protection of domestic manufactures, had gained
him a strong alliance there. Mr. Webster, among others,
was not insensible either to his services, or to the popularity
they had justly given him ; and he advised a young friend of
his, then editing a paper in one of the New England States,
and who had sought his views in regard to the proper candi-
date of the North for the presidency in the approaching cam-
paign, (1824,) to support Mr. Calhoun for the position ; un-
fortunately, a short-sighted, narrow, sectional pride of feeling
induced New England to give its vote to John Quincy Adams,
whose elevation, by a seeming retributive justice, did more to
render New England men, measures and views unpopular, than
any other political event could possibly have done. New
England has never recovered from this untoward event.

At the close of the fourteenth Congress, the three names

DANIEL WEBSTER. 55

most distinguished in it — Webster, Clay, Calhoun — occu-
pied, almost exclusively, the minds of all men. There was
nothing, seemingly, beyond the scope of their ambition or at-
tainment. They had but to form a triumvirate, and divide
the world between them ; not in contemporaneous but alter-
nate fruition. Had they done so, the historian of the twenty-
four years in which they should have filled the joresidential
chair would have described an era of national honor, national
prosperity, and national greatness, the like of which, in no
country, have the records of ancient or modern times afforded.
The imagination halts in the vain attempt to reach the com-
prehension of such an ideal, and turns unsatisfied away.

The devoted friends of these eminent men might be ecpially
unwilling and unable to say, whose hot ambition of the three
prevented such a glorious consummation ; in after times, how-
ever, the impartial historian, reviewing carefully their cha-
racter and conduct, may discover, and demonstrate to the
world, the one most faithless to the present, and all future
ajres.

After the adjournment of Congress, in August, 1816, Mr.
Webster left Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and established his
residence in Boston. His professional practice in New
Hampshire had ceased to afibrd him and his family a liveli-
hood, broken in upon, as it was, by his duties at Washington.
In Boston, his name as an advocate and orator was, by this
time well known ; and influential friends there succeeded

56 ' CHAPTER ir.

in preyailing upon liim to select that city for liis future
liome. '

lie never lias since gone into a New Hampsliire court, ex-
cept on one occasion, when he went clown from Eoston in
September, 1817, in the Dartmouth CollGgc case.

The question in this case was — whether certain acts of the
New Hampshire Legislature, jrarporting to enlarge and ijii-
prove the Corporation of Parmouth College, and amend its
charter, were binding upon the Corporation, without their
acceptance or assent ; and not repugnant to the Constitution of
the United States ? Mr. Webster argued the case as counsel
for the Corporation. The opinion of the Superior Court of
the State, before which it was argued, as delivered by Chief
Justice Ptichardson, was in favor of the validity and constitu-
tionality of the acts ; and judgment was entered accordingly.

Whereupon a writ of error was sued out by the Corpora-
tion of the College to remove the cause to the Supreme Court
of the United States. It came on for ar2;ument there in March,
1818, and before all the judges. It was argued by Mr. Webster
and Mr. Hopkinson for the j)laintiiFs in error, and by Mr.
Holmes and the Attorney-General, for the other side.

The question involved in this case was quite new to our
jurisprudence ; and when the case had been called up for ar-
jijument, and Mr. Justice Story had run his eye over it, he
said he did not see how anything could be made out of it.

He changed his opinion on the hearing of Mr. Webster's
argument, and coincided with his colleagues in declaring the

DANIEL WEBSTER. 57

acts of the Legislature unconstitutional and invalidj and in re-
versing the judgment of the State Court.*

This may be called Mr. Webster's first constitutional argu-
ment ; and in this view alone would be sufficient to provoke its
careful study ; even if it did not embrace the clearest, yet
most succinct account of eleemosynary corporations, of their
character and purposes, their privileges, property and immu-
nities, ever expressed in words. No case, however remotely
connected with it in principle, has since been argued, or ever
will be, but with liberal quotations of its language and
opinions.

When Mr. Webster removed to Boston, ho had still one
session to serve as member of Congress from New Hampshire.
It was a session of no great importance to Mr. Webster's per-

* From the security gained to the chartered privileges of this corpo-
ration by Mr. Webster, through this final decision of the Supreme Court
of the United States, he is entitled to be considered the second founder of
the institution. He far more than repaid by his success all he obtained
from his collegiate education. His name should be held in grateful com-
memoration there, in all coming ages, no less than that of Henry VI.

at Eton :

" Where grateful science still adores

Her holy Henry's shade.''
It is no little creditable in the mean time, to the character of New
Hampshire, that its Legislature and citizens generally, rendered an im
mediate if not cheerful obedience to the decision of the highest tribunal
known to the constitution. But New Hampsliire ever Vv^as a law-abid-
ing and authority-regarding State.

58 CHAPTER ir.

gonal history, or to tlie country. No agitating questions were
brought before it, either of domestic or foreign character;
and legislation was moderate and unimpeded.

A domestic affliction fell upon Mr. Webster this winter
while at Washington. His daughter, Grace — his only
daughter at that time — died, on the 23d of January, 1817.
Her sickness and subsequent death, detained him from his
seat in Congress during the month of January.

On the rising of Congress, Mr. AYebster returned to Bos-
ton, and entered with diligence on the labors of his profession.

And these labors were both arduous and incessant ; they
were also lucrative. Clients crowded numerously upon him,
bringing copious fees. He had not been two years in Boston,
before his income from his professional practice was greater
than that of any lawyer of his time, or any that had preceded
him. His reputation grew with his means ; and no one of his
profession had before him such a brilliant and remunerating,
If laborious, prospect.

CHAPTER III.

Notwithstanding the engrossing nature of Mr. Web-
ster's professional pursuits, lie found occasional time, " vacare
Musis''^ — to gratify that love of reading and general acqui-
sition, which has grown with his growth and strengthened with
his strength. lie also found time to comply with the earnest
wishes of friends, who sought his contribution to the cause of
history and literature. Belonging to such, is the Discourse he
delivered at Plymouth, in December, 1S20. It is not pro-
posed to analyse this celebrated production here. Every one
has read it who knows how to read, or what to read. But it
may not be inopportune to introduce a remarkable prediction
contained in it. Speaking of the energy, the enterprise and
guccess of the natives of New England, the orator says : " It
may be safely asserted, that there are now more than a million
of people, descendants of New England ancestry, living free
and happy, in regions, which hardly sixty years ago were
tracts of unpenetrated forest. Nor do rivers, or mountains
or seas resist the progress of industry and enterprise, i^rg
Icng, the sons of the JPilgrims icill he on the shores of the
Pacific.''^

60 CHAPTER III.

It is but one of tlie many instances of far-reaching vision,
amounting, indeed, to wliat the Scotch call second-sight^ Mr.
Webster has, on various occasions, exhibited. The compre-
hension of the Future from the study of the Past distinguishes,
in truth, the man of intellect from the crowd : in ancient
times it made the prophet ; in modern, it forms the statesman.

Mr. Webster was not permitted to remain long undisturbed
in the enjoyment of professional eminence and domestic com-
fort. Private friendship and State pride alike sought gratifi-
cation in his return to the National councils. He had not
been two years in his adopted State before he was urged, ve-
hemently, by repeated application of friends to be a candidate
for the House. On his refusal, an election to the Senate of
■ the United States was offered him on the part of his friends in
the Legislature. The present Chief Justice Shaw and lato
Judo-o Hubbard, both then distinsiuished members of the
Legislature, called upon him at Dorchester, where he then
was passing the summer, with this invitation. These various
applications he entirely declined, seeking to devote himself
exclusively to the practice of the Law. Attaining to the
higncst professional distinction, and emoluments, not only ade-
quate to, but beyond his wants, he had enough for ambition,
and could not look elsewhere safely for happiness. He fol-
lowed his profession with a devotion that knew no interruption
save from necessary relaxation. AYhat time he could spare
from the throng of clients, he resorted to field sports and
rural exercise ; nor did they profit less than himself from such

DANIEL WEBSTER. 61

occasional diversion. This, in truth, might be pronounced
the most equable, and, perhaps, the most contented period of
his life

lie was not insensible, however, to the calls of public duty.
Besides serving a few weeks as member of the Legislature, he
was an elector of President and Vice-President, at Mr. Mun-
roe's second election in 1S20, and also a delegate to the con-
vention chosen to revise the Constitution of Massachusetts, in

1821. - . : . •

In this convention he acted no unimportant part. In
truth, it may be said, that there were few if any measures of
much consequence adopted by it, which did not bear the im-
press of his mind. He encountered in this convention men
of the Commonwealth, most eminent for their knowledge of
the history and philosophy of legislation and jurisprudence,
among whom it certainly cannot be invidious to mention the
venerated name of John Adams. This renowned patriot,
sage, and statesman was drawing fatally near the close of life,
but his last, as his earliest, thought was his country's. He
had rocked the cradle of the Nation, and protected its infancy ;
and now that it had gained firmness of limb and muscular
vigor, and could go alone, he still held over it an affectionate,
and paternal care. Greatness and goodness attended upon him
and ministered to his happiness. " Possessing," says Mr.
Webster of him, " all his faculties to the end of his long life,
with an unabated love of reading and contemplation, in the
centre of interesting circles of friendship and affection, he was

62 CHAPTER III.

blessed in Iiis retirement, with wliatever of repose and felicity
the condition of man allows."*

The Convention was indeed distiugnished for the great array
of intellect and public experience contained in it.

Mr. Webster took an active part in its proceedings, and
made a nnmber of energetic speeches in it ; one upon a reso-
lution relative to oaths of office ; another npon a resolution to
divide the State into districts, for the choice of Senators ac-
cording to population ; and a third upon the removal of judi-
cial officers by the Governor and Council. These speeches, as
their subjects would seem to require, were almost wholly ar-
gumentative. There was no need of rhetoric, and no oppor-

^ In conversation once with Mr. Webster, he spoke to me of his last
interview with Mr. Adams, which I give in as much as I recollect of
his words : ''• I remember," he said, " the last time I ever saw Mr.
Adams. It was the day I delivered the Discourse on the laying of the
comer stone on Bunker Hill. I called to see him, to pay my respects to
him, on my way home.

" It was a hot, sultry day in June. I found him lying on a sofa, ap-
parently fatigued, and breatlaing not without difficulty. He had become
fat, heavy, and unw^ieldy ; his flesh hung down his face, full and flabby.

" He had an original nervous way of expressing himself, even in ordi-
nary conversation. He always said something which you could after-
wards recollect. ■ ^.

" While I was with him, and conversing on the common topics of the
day, some one^ — a friend of his — came in and made particular enquiry
of his health. ' I am not well,' he replied, ' I inhabit a weak, frail,
decayed tenement ; battered by the winds, and broken in upon by the
riDrms; and from all I can learn^ tJie landlord does not intend to repair.^ '^

DANIEL WEBSTER. 63

tunlty for the display of eloquence. On one occasion, Low-
ever, Mr. Webster was provoked into something more impas
sioned and agitating than simple argument. It was in reply
to a member, who had said that classifying towns for the choice
of representatives, instead of giving every town a representa
tive, however small its population, was forging chains and fet-
ters for the people of Massachusetts. '' Chains and fetters !"
said Mr. "Webster. " This convention of delegates, chosen by
the people within this month, and going back to the people
divested of all power within another month, yet occupying their
space of time here in forging chains and fetters for themselves
and their constituents! * Chains and fetters!' A popular
assembly, of four hundred men, combining to fabricate these
manacles for the people — and nobody but the honorable mem-
ber from Worcester with sagacity enough to detect the horrible
conspiracy, or honesty enough to disclose it ! ^ Chains and
fetters !' An assembly most variously composed — men of all
professions and all parties — of different ages, habits, and asso-
ciations— all freely and recently chosen by their towns and
districts ; yet this assembly in one short month contriving to
fetter and enslave itself and its constituents ! Sir, there are
some things too extravagant for the ornament and decoration
of oratory ; some things too excessive even for the fictions of
poetry ; and I am persuaded that a little reflection would have
persuaded the honorable member, that when he speaks of this
assembly as committing outrages on the rights of the people,
and as forging chains and fetters for their subjugation, he does

64 CHAPTER III.

as great injustice to liis own cLaracter as a correct and manly
dsTbater, as he does to the motives and intelligence of this body."

These remarks, and especially the manner and countenance
Tfith which they were pronounced, somewhat excited the usually
phlegmatic assembly ; many persons, then members, yet lik
to speak of the eiiect which thoy produced. " ■

Mr. Webster's reputation daily augmenting as an orator and
statesman, the desire on the part of his political friends to re-
turn him to Cono-ress frrew stronsrer andstrono;er ; till at leno-th,
iu the fall of 1S22, a Committee, consisting of Col. Thos. H
Perkins, Wm. Sturgis, Vfm. Sullivan, John T. Apthorp and
Daniel Messinger, called on him, with the information that he
had been agreed upon as candidate for Kepresentative to Con-
gress. Col. Perkins read to him the vote by which he was
nominated in the Convention, and the letter which was drawn
up to accomioany the vote ; and, saying that he had been in-
structed by the Convention to bring back no answer, retired
with the rest of the Committee. • • .

- This severe and continued pressure finally overcame Mr.
Webster's objections. He had declined with no Richard-like
reluctance, eager to grasp what he seemed desirous to refuse,
but from an honest, sincere, heart-felt reluctance. He knew,
on entering public life again, he must abandon professional
emoluments and domestic comfort. What honors he had al-
ready attained to in National Councils were sufficient to fill his
ambition ; and he saw nothing iu any prospect, however bril-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 65

liant, of poliiical life, to compensate for tlio sacrifice lie needs
must make to secure it.

Others would enjoy his labors. It seems the destiny of
Genius to pursue unrequited toil, at least of that genius that
labors in public affairs. There are services, too, that money
cannot inspire nor compensate. The statesman may originate
and digest a commercial code that gives competency and wealth
to thousands — enhancing an hundred-fold the prosperity of his
country. He may declare and conduct a necessary war, to
secure its rights and extend its dominion ; or establish a per-
manent and honorable peace, with countless attendant blessings.
He may open new marts for native industry, suggest new
channels for enterprising labor, foster new inventions, and per-
fect new arts, in the 23lentitude of his power and capacity.
Under him, a new spirit of enterprise may spring up ; new
sources of wealth, hitherto unexplored, be revealed ; and all
the great interests of society receive an impulse that can com-
prise no definition nor limit. But the prosperity of his country
is his own martj^-dom. For her greatness he sacrifices per-
sonal independence, domestic charities, health, and, too often,
life itself. Pitt died at the age of forty-seven, overwhelmed
with debt. He gave his country a position far above the
powers of Europe and the world, and she gave him a funeral.
Fox went down to the tomb, overtasked and worn-out, in mind
and body. While the wounded sensibilities of Canning, ex-
cited almost to phrenzy by the proud man's contumely and the

base man's iua'radtude, could find no solace but in the grave.

"4

66 CHAPTER III

Yet grateful England sliowers upon ner well-deserving ser-
vants places, and pensions, and titles ; compensating, in tlie
eyes of the unthinking multitude, perhaps, for broken health
and shortened life. All England can do, at least she does with
no niggard hand, hut with a generosity becoming her history
and greatness! All may not bring satisfaction to the bruised
spirit, but it averts the charge of ingratitude from her

In this country the statesman, who, by thought, word, or
action, gains ascendancy for a policy or party, may add vast
augmentation to the wealth of the country, and enable cool,
plodding, enterprising individuals, by the accumulation of large
fortunes, to obtain a seat in Congress, in the Cabinet, or even
a Foreign Mission. But what does he gain for himself, for all
his transcendant ability and service } Injurious accusations,
while living ; and in death, at best, a doubtful eulogy.

But Mr. Webster yielded to the importunate solicitations of
friends, and was elected Representative to Congress from the
city of Boston, in the fall of ''22^ by 1000 majority over Jesse
Putnam.

Beturning to the House, he found the Chair occupied, as he
had left it, by Henry Clay. Other familiar faces he also met,
and felt quite at home. Early in the session the question of
the Grreek Revolution was agitated ; and on the 8th of Decem-
ber, 1823, Mr. Webster presented the following resolution, in
the House of Representatives : " Resolved, That provision
ought to be made, by law, for defraying the expense incident
to the appointment of an Agent or Commissioner to Greece,

1 ANIEL WEBSTER. 67

whenever tlie President shall deem it expedient to make such
appointment." In introducing this resolution, Mr. Webster
made an appropriate speech, in the beginning of which he
said : " "We must, indeed, fly beyond the civilized world ; we
must pass the dominion of law, and the boundaries of knowledge ;
we must, more especially, withdraw ourselves from this place,
and the scenes and objects which here surround us, if we would
separate ourselves entirely from all those memorials of herself
which ancient Greece has transmitted for the admiration and
the benefit of mankind. This free form of government, this
popular assembly, the common council held for the common
good, where have we contemplated its earliest models } This
practice of free debate and public discussion, the contest of
mind with mind, and that popular eloquence, which, if it were
now here, on a subject like this, would move the stones of the
Caj^itol, — whose was the language in which all these were first
exhibited .? Even the edifice in which we assemble, these pro-
portioned columns, this ornamental architecture, all remind us
that G-reece has existed, and that we, like the rest of mankind,
are greatly her debtors But I have not introduced this motion
in the vain hope of discharging any of this accumulated debt
of centuries. I have not acted upon the expectation that we,
who have inherited this obligation from our ancestors, should
now attempt to pay it to those who may seem to have inherited,
from their ancestors, a right to receive payment. What I have
to say of Greece concerns the modern, not the ancient ; the
living, and not the dead. It regards her, not as she exists in

68 CHAPTER III.

history, triurapliant over time, and tyranny, and ignorance,
but as slie now is, contending, against fearful odds, for being,
and for the common privilege of human nature."

In the course of his remarks he alluded in terms of severe,
but just reprobation, to the character of the Treaty concluded
at Paris in 1815, between Russia, Prussia, and Austria, com-
monly known under the title (assumed, one might suppose, in
bitter mockery,) of " The Holy Alliance." Mr. "Webster said,
he wanted words to express his abhorrence of the abominable
principles proclaimed in the preamble to this Alliance, the
establishment of which was menaced by a million and a half
of bayonets. " Human liberty may yet, perhaps," said he,
^' be obliged to repose its principal hopes on the intelligence
and the vigor of the Saxon race. So far as dejDends on us, at
least, I trust those hopes will not be disappointed."

To the question as to what this nation should do ; whether
we should declare war for the sake of Greece, and if not, if we
would neither furnish armies nor navies, what we should do ;
what was in our power } he replied, in some of the happiest
language even he ever commanded : " Sir, this reasoning mis-
takes the age. The time has been, indeed, when fleets, and
armies, and subsidies were the principal reliances even in the
best cause. But, hajopily for mankind, there has arrived a
great change in this respect. Moral causes come into consi-
deration, in proportion as the progress of knowledge is ad-
vanced \ and the public opinion of the civilized world is rapidly
gaining an ascendancy over mere brutal force. It may be si-

DANIEL WEBSTER. G9

lenced by military power, "but it cannot be concjuered. It is
elastic, irrepressille, and invulnerable to tlie weapons of ordi-
nary warfare. It is that impassable, inextinguishable enemy
of mere violence and arbitrary rule, wbicli, like Milton's angels,

' Vital in every part,
Cannot, but hj annihilating, die.'

Unless this be propitiated or satisfied, it is in vain for power
to talk either of triumphs or repose. No matter what fields
are desolated, what fortresses surrendered, what armies sub-
dued, or what provinces overrun, there is an enemy that still
exists to check the glory of these triumphs. It follows the
conqueror back to the very scene of his ovations ; it calls upon
him to take notice that the world, though silent, is yet indig-
nant ; it shows him that the sceptre of his victory is a barren
sceptre ; that it shall confer neither joy nor honor, but shall
moulder to dry ashes in his grasp. In the midst of his exul-
tation, it pierces his ear with the cry of injured justice ; it de-
nounces against him the indignation of an enlightened and
civilized age ; it turns to bitterness the cup of his rejoicing,
and wounds him with the sting which belongs to the con-
sciousness of having outraged the opinion of mankind.''

President Monroe in his annual message to Congress, at the
commencement of the session, had expressed a warm sym-
pathy for the Grreeks, in their struggle for independence ; and
Mr. Webster's motive and action contemplated some recipro-
cation of his sentiments, on the part of the House, so far as ii
should approve them. His resoktion was designed to havo

70 CHAPTER III

this effect, and no more. It failed, however, of favorable ac»
tion. It took the House too much by surprise, accustomed
rather to propositions of a temporary and local character.

Mr. Webster made one other great speech, during this Con-
gress, upon a question of more domestic nature. It was
upon the Tariff of 1824 — which he opposed on the ground of
expediency solely. The philosophic or economical character
of this speech may be, in part, judged of from one quotation :
" There is a broad and marked distinction," he said, " be-
tween entire prohibition, and reasonable encouragement. It is
one thing by duties or taxes on foreign articles, to awaken a
home competition in the production of the same articles ; it is
another thing to remove all competition by a total exclusion
of the foreign article ; and it is quite another thing still, by
total prohibition, to raise at home manufactures not suited to
the climate, the nature of the country, or the state of the
population. These are substantial distinctions, and although
it may not be easy in every case, to determine which of them
applies to a given article, yet the distinctions themselves
exist, and, in most cases, will be sufficiently clear to indicate
the true course of policy." "-

Notwithstanding, however, the opposition of Mr. Webster,
and the Massachusetts Kepresentatives generally, the bill
passed into a law, and New England was obliged to conform
her temper and business to its operation.

In the tall of this year, 1824, Mr. Webster was re-elected to
Congress, receiving 4,990 votes of the 5,000 thrown — an en-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 71.

dorsement by popular favor piolbablj witliout precedent in the
annals of our pulitical contests.

In the fall of tliis year, too, came off tlie election of Presi-
dent. Andrew Jackson, John Quincy Adams, Wm. H
Crawford and Henry Clay, were all candidates, and all re
ceived electoral votes for tlie Presidential ofE.ce. The three
first were returned to the House of Representatives, as being
the three highest candidates ; General Jackson, by an em-
phatic plurality of votes that indicated, beyond the enter-
tainment of a doubt, his superior popularity. The potent in-
fluence, however, of Mr. Clay in the House was exerted in
favor of Mr. Adams ; and secured for him, in that body, a
constitutional election. Ko intelligent man in the country be-
lieves that Mr. Adams' success was the consequence of any
previous arrangement between himself and Mr. Clay, by which
the latter, in such event, should become Secretary of State.
Every candid man, on the contrary, will coincide in the
opinion, expressed by Mr. Webster in relation to the subject,
soon after the in-coming of the administration, in a speech at
Fanueil Hall : " Ho would take this occasion to say, if his
opinion could be of any value in such a case, that he thought
nothing more unfounded than that that gentleman (;Mr. Clay)
owed his present position to any unworthy compromise or ar-
rangement whatever. He owed it to his talent, to his promi-
nent standing in the community, to his course of public service,
not now a short one, and the high estimation in v/hich ha
stands with that part of the country to which he belongs."

72 CHAPTER III.

It is not to be denied, however, that many of Mr. Clay's
friends regretted his acceptance of the highest office in Mr.
Adams' administration, — because such acceptance involved
the awkward necessity of an explanation. A sus^idon^ they
thought, would attach to his motives, and always attend his
position ; and suspicion, they knew, often produced results as
fatal to character as proven criminality. Like a reckless
spendthrift, some held — he had secm*ed a temporary gratifica-
tion by the sacrifice of a certain, brilliant, and not distant,
Future. / ,. _;.' --. ;>._ ,■ - s .. ■ - ■

The question that most agitated the politics of the country
durino; Mr. Adams' administration, was the Panama Mis-
SIGN ; a succinct historical account of which may not be im-
pertinent here. . . :■ -: —^-

In the month of December, 1823, a formal invitation was
addressed by Spain to the Courts of St. Petersburg!!, Vienna,
Eerlin, and Paris, proposing to hold a conference at Paris, in
order that the plenipotentiaries there convened, might assist
Spain in adjusting the affairs of her revolted colonies in South
America. ' - -, . . ' ^ ^

The proposed meeting, however, did not take place — per-
haps in consequence of the decided course adopted by Mr.
Canning on the part of England — who, in a conference with
the French minister in London, declared distinctly and em-
phatically, that England would consider any foreign inter-
ference, whether by arms or intimidation, ia the contest be-

DANIEL WELSTER. 73

tween Spain and her revolted colonies, as a conclusive reason
for immediately recognising tlie independence of tlie Utter.

It was under these circumstances, and at this crisis, that
Mr. Monroe's justly celebrated declaration was made ; that
our government would consider any combination of European
Powers to effect objects, whether of colonization or otherwise,
in America, as affecting ourselves ; that we should regard such
combination as dangerous to ourselves, and should be prepared
to meet it accordingly. This declaration had been agreed upon
unanimously in Mr. Monroe's Cabinet after great deliberation,
Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Crawford concurring in it with Mr.
Adams. It met, too, with the entire concurrence of the
country, as wise, seasonable, and patriotic. In England,
also, it was received with no little enthusiasm. In the House
of Commons, the leading minister expressed his full concur-
rence in the sentiments and opinions of the President, while
his distinguished competitor in that body, of an opposite poli-
tical party, declared that " no event had ever created greater
joy, exultation, and gratitude, among the free men of Europe ;
that he felt a pride in being connected, by blood and language,
with the people of the United States ; that the policy dis-
closed by the message, became a great, a free, and an inde-
pendent nation ; and that he hoped his own country would be
prevented by no mean pride or paltry jealousy, from following
so noble and glorious an example."

'' I look on the message of December, 1823," said Mr

Webster, in the House of Representatives, "as forming a-

4*

74 CHAPTER in.

bright page in our history. I will neither help to erase it, or
tear it out ; nor shall it be, by any act of mine, blurred or
blotted. It does honor to the sagacity of the government, and
I will not diminish that honor. It elevated the hopes, and
gratified the patriotism of the people. Over those hopes I will
not bring a mildew ; nor will I put that gratified patriotism to
shame." " ' •

The allies were deterred from taking any measures in con-
cert with Spain for the subjugation of her colonies ; but their
menacing attitude for a time had alarmed the colonies them-
selves, and awakened the suspicions of our G^overnment.

The Patiama Mission seemed to be a corollary of President
Monroe's message, to follow as a proper inference from the
postulate, that American governments should have sole con-
trol of American interests. It proposed no belligerent mea-
sures ; no departure from the neutral policy of the United
States. It contemj)lated only a negotiation with the ministers
of other American Republics, assembled in Congress at
Panama, upon commercial and international relations. What-
ever should be agreed upon in the Congress, was to be of no
obligatory force whatever, or anywhere, unless afterwards duly
ratified by their respective governments.

Mr. Webster, who had warmly approved the message of
President Monroe, thought himself called upon to support a
mission which seemed the legitimate result of its reasoning ;
and, in April, 1826, made an able speech upon the character
and purposes of the mission.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 75

It was tinpopnlar, liowevor, in tlio couLJry ; less, doubtless,
from the nature of tlie objects it proposed to accomplish, than
from the construction of the Administration which recom-
mended it.

At the present day there is, probably, not a sentiment of
the speech Mr. Webster made on the subject which would not
meet the entire and hearty concurrence of four-fifths of the
nation. The policy of Mr. Adams' Administration, in this
respect, has outlived its general unpopularity.

It was in the summer of this year that Mr. Webster de-
livered his discourse in commemoration of the lives and ser-
vices of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson. It would be in
vain to look elsewhere for eulogies, expressed in more glowing
and elevated language, or more appropriate to their subjects.
The funeral orations of Bossuet, deservedly so celebrated,
have not the repose, the dignity, nor sublimity of this. It
sounds like a solemn anthem throughout. " Although no
sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved
stone bear record of their deeds, yet will their remembrance
be as lasting as the land they honored. Marble columns may,
indeed, moulder into dust, time may erase all impress from
the crumbling stone, but their fame remains ; for with
American Liberty only can it perish. It was the last
swelling peal of yonder choir, * Their bodies are buried
IN peace, but their name liveth evermore.' I catch
that solemn song, I echo that lofty strain of funeral triumph,
* Their name liveth evermore.'"

76 CHAPTER III.

The speecli Mr. Webster lias put into the mouth of John
Adams in this funeral oration, as having been delivered by
him in the Philadelphia Convention, in 1776, commencing,
" Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand
and my heart to this vote," has been often mistaken for the
production of Mr. Adams himself: it follows so inimitably
Mr. Adams' style and forcible expression, Mr. Webster has
been applied to, on several occasions, and by persons of liter-
ary pretensions, to know where and when Mr. Adams delivered
the speech. • ' - -

The address on laying the corner-stone of Bunker-Hill
monument was made a year before, in 1825. It is too
familiar to every one, to require even allusion to it.

In November, 1826, Mr. Webster was again re-elected to
Congress, and by a vote of almost entire unanimity ; but be-
fore he took his seat, under this canvass, he was chosen Sena-
tor of the United States, in place of the ever-lamented Elijah
H. Mills, retired from ill health.* - '~ ^-. • ■ "

The lives of literary characters or statesmen seem to be but,
after all, an account of their productions and speeches. They
appear to have no domestic life ; or none, which is not ab-
sorbed in the engrossing nature of their pursuits. Mr. Web-
ster's political life, however, has been varied by his professional

* According to tke records, the vote of the Legislat.Te stood thus : in
the Senate, Daniel Webster had 56 votes: John Mills, 11; Edward
Everett, 1 ; Levi Lincoln, 1. In the House, Daniel Webster had 202 ;
John Mills, 82 ; scattering, 44.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 77

avocations, and mitigated as before mentioned by Lis addic-
tion to ao-ricultural and rural occunations. In this latter re-
spect, it has resembled Edmund Burke's, wlio was distin-
guished liardly less as an agriculturist than as a statesman and
orator.

Mr. Webster had been obliged to relinquish a large por-
tion of his practice — some of the most lucrative — by his re-
entrance into public life. But in most important cases, he
was still retained, particularly in such as were to receive final
disposition in the Supreme Court of the United States. Of
such, among others, was the famous case of Gihhons vs. Ogchn^
argued in the Supreme Court, in lS24,when the constitutional
power of Cono-ress to reo-nlate commerce, as a sole and ex-
elusive ^oiccr^ v^^as insisted upon and triumphantly established
by Mr. "Webster — the judgment of the Court, as pronounced
by Chief Justice Marshal, following closely the line of his
argument. In this argument, he made use of the expression,
unit J as applicable to the commerce of the United States,
which G-eneral Jackson afterwards borrowed to describe the
character of his Cabinet. Speaking of the relinquishment by
States, of their former powers over commerce, to the general
government, he said: "Henceforth, the commerce of the
States was to be an unit ; and the system by which it was to
exist and be governed must necessarily be complete, entire,
and uniform. Its character was to be described in the flag
which waved over it, e pluribus uxu:,i."

Other cases of moment Mr. Yv^ebster conducted in the

78 CHAPTER III.

Supreme Court, wliicli added to his reputation and income. It
is n©t necessary to particularize them here.

Nor was Mr. Webster's public life unvaried by domestic
calamities ; which visit, without respect to persons, the families
of the hio;h as well as humble. The death of his dauo-hter
some years previous has already been alluded to : towards the
close of this year, 1827, a still greater affliction fell upon him,
in the loss of his wife. He was on his way to Washington,
when she died. Her illness and subsequent decease prevented
him from taking his seat in the Senate till January, '28.

In that august body, ther were already men of national
eminence. Besides Mr. Calh m, who occupied the chair, and
Mr. Forsyth, of Georgia, bot of whom Mr. Webster had left
the year before in the House, and with whom, in equal en-
counter he had measured swords, and Mr. Yan Buren, more
distinguished afterwards ; there were Benton and Barton, of
Missouri, — colleagues, but hostile, of great but opposite
qualities — ^Woodbury and Bell, of New Hampshire, worthy
Senators, — Tazewell and Tyler, of Yirginia, ever in pursuit of
abstractions, till they almost became such themselves^ — Clay-
ton of Delaware, Burnet of Ohio, and Hayne, whose name
needs no local designation. There were others, if not all
of equal position in the country, all worthy of commemora-
tion.

Mr. Webster's first encounter in the Senate was with Mr.
Tazewell, upon the Process Billy for regulating the proceedings
of the United States Courts. The speeches were rather of a

DANIEL WEBSTER. 79

professional character, and there is little in them, or a'jy in-
cident connected with their delivery, to interest the general
reader.

Mr. Webster exerted himself warmly in getting through a
bill for the relief of the surviving officers of the Revolution ;
and, in April of this year, made an earnest and effective speech
in its favor. Speaking of the conduct and services of the
Revolutionary army, he said : " It had faithfully served and
saved the country ; and to that country it now referred, with
unhesitating confidence, its claim and its complaints. It laid
down its arms with alacrity ; it mingled itself with the mass
of the community ; and it waited, till in better times, and
under a new government, its services might be rewarded, and
the promises made to it fulfilled. Sir, this example is worth
more, far more, to the cause of civil liberty, than this bill will
cost us. We can hardly recur to it too often, or dwell on it
too much, for the honor of our country, and of its defenders.
Meritorious service in civil war is worthy of peculiar consider-
ation ; not only because there is, in such war, usually less
power to restrain irregularities, but because, also, they expose
all prominent actors in them to different kinds of danger. It
is rebellion, as well as war. Those who engage in it must
look not only to the dangers of the field, but to confiscation
also, and ignominious death. With no efficient and settled
government, either to sustain or to control them, and with
every sort of danger before them, it is great merit to have
conducted with fidelity to the country, under every discourage-

so CIIAPTEPx III.

ment on the one liaud, and with iinconqneralble bravery to-
wards the common enemy on the other. So, sir, the officen:
and soldiers of the Revolutionary army did conduct."

Owing to the exertions of Mr. Webster, of Mr. Van Buren,
and some other influential members, this bill of great remedial
justice finally passed ; his aid in the success of which, Mr.
"Webster has said, on some occasion since, is one of the most
grateful of his Congressional recollections.

At this session, a new Tariff bill passed : " the bill of
abominations," as it was sometimes called. For the four
years previous, New England had from mere necessity turned
its attention to manufactures ; and large investments had been
made in that direction. There seemed to the people of that
section no alternative, but to consider the cause and policy of
the government as determined and fixed, and to govern them-
selves accordingly. .; -

This new bill contained provisions, which seemed of a vindic-
tive character ; as if intended to punish such persons as had
derived benefit from the Tariff of '24, though compelled to
adopt it against their wishes. ' . : ;, / . "

" Sir," said Mr. Webster, in his speech on the passage of
the bill — " I am sure there is nobody here, envious of the
prosperity of New England, or who would wish to see it de
Btroyed. But if there be such anywhere, I cannot chee?
them by holding out the hope of a speedy accomplishment oi
theh wishes. The prosperity of New England, like that oi
other parts of the country, may, doubtless, be affected inju-

DANIEL WEESTER. 81

riouslj by unwise or unjust laws. It may he impaired, espo
cially, by an unsteady and sliifting policy, wbicli fosters particu
lar objects to-day, and abandons tliem to-morrow. She may
advance faster or slower; but the propelling principle, bo
assured, is in her ; deep, fixed, and actiye. Her course is on-
ward and forward. The great powers of free labor, of mora]
habits, of general education, of good institutions, of sMll, en-
terprise, and perseverance are all working with her, and
for her ; and on the small surface, which her population
covers, she is destined, I think, to exhibit striking results of
the operation of these potent causes, in whatever constitutes
the happiness, or belongs to the ornament of human society."

Notwithstanding the serious objections to the bill, 3Ir.
"Webster considered it his duty to vote for it, as the best alter-
native. Its defeat, he thought, would have a much more
calamitous effect upon the interests of the country generally
than its adoption.

He voted for it on the ground of expediency ; and, it is
upon that alone, his argument in favor of its passage rests.
In vain should we look in this speech for that philosoj)hical
research, that entire mastery of the principles of political
economy, and that intimate aequaintance with commercial and
financial affahs which distinguished his speech against the
Tariff of 1824. The present occasion, however, and the sub-
ject required less range of thought ; action seemed rather de-
manded than argument ; canvassing than eloquence.

Returning home at the end of the session, and meeting

82 CHAPTER iir.

some portion of liis constituents in Faneuil Hall, Mr. Web-
ster made allusion to the necessity under wliich lie had found
himself placed, by a most strange and unprecedented manner of
legislation, of taking the evil of a public measure for the sake of
its good. " The candid interpretation," said he, " which had
been given to that vote, by those who disapproved it, and the
assembling together here, for the purpose of this occasion, of
those who felt pain, as well as those who felt pleasure, at the
success of the measure for which the vote was given, afford
ample proof, how far unsuspected uprightness of intention, and
the esercise of an independent judgment, may be respected,
even by those who di^er from the results to which that exer-
cise of judgment has arrived." , . s , , .

Another presidential canvass took place in the autumn of
this year, the competitors in which were Andrew Jackson
and John Quincy Adams. The popular voice, which had
not invited Mr. Adams to the chair of state, precipitated him
from it with emphatic utterance. On the 4th of March, 1829,
General Jackson took possession of the vacated seat, with a
temper not ^t all softened by the unnecessary delay of four
years. - - • ,

We approach now the most important era of Mr. Webster's
intellectual life ; in which he gained, at once and for ever, the
highest rank as a debater and orator 'No previous production
of his, of whatever eminent ability, had prepared the minds of
men for the display of such a vast variety of genius as he ex-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 83

hibited in tliis greatest intellectual contest of tlie age. He
had always been equal to tbe occasion, it is true, but he had
never hitherto encountered an occasion that demanded such
infinite resources.

CHAPTER I V .

To nnderstancl fully the character and importance of tin
Great Debate, as it was called in the newspapers of the
day, something should be known of the circumstances that
immediately preceded and accompanied it, and of the more
distinguished persons who participated in it.

It commenced, in the Senate of the United States, in the
month of January, 1830, during the first session of the 21st
Congress, and in the first year of the administration of
Andrew Jackson ; and lasted, with occasional hut brief inter-
ruptions, four months.

Few persons ever attained to eminent position in this or any
other country, under more auspicious circumstances, than
Andrew Jackson. The idol of a party comprising much the
larger portion of the constituency of the country, respected
for the many liberal qualities of his head and heart, even by
those who on conviction, or from interest, had opposed his
elevation, this distinguished soldier in the earlier portion of
his official career, gave assurance of an administration, equally
brilliant and popular. In the presidential campaign of 1828,
his competitor and immediate predecessor, John Quincy

DANIEL WEBSTER. 85

Adams, Tvlietlier from geographical position, or from a want of
confidence among the masses in the policy of his measures, or
purity of his intentions, or, more probable yet, from personal
unpopularity, arising from a cold temperament and repulsive
manners, had been signally and disgracefully defeated. No
where, save in New England, and even there, perhaps, rather
from local pride, than attachment to his person, or respect for
his public character, had his canvass for re-election been
honestly sustained. Elsewhere his efforts and those of his par-
tisans had been vehemently rebuked. General Jackson re-
ceived a majority in the electoral colleges unprecedented in
the previous annals of party contention.

Undoubtedly one great reason of Mr Adams' unpopularity,
was his cold, antipathetic manner, and the suspicion of selfish-
ness it suggested, or at least aided greatly to confirm. None
approached Mr. Adams but to recede. He never succeeded,
he never tried to conciliate. He seemed one of those persons
— not rare on earth — whose enjoyment stops in themselves ;
who find no pleasure in the indulgence of social feelings, and
cherish no hope but of self -gratification. Friendship which
receives and repays mutual benefits, which responds alike to
good or adverse fortune, which removes us from entire isola-
tion, expands the heart, lends new force to genius, and a nobler
expression to thought, he never seemed capable of compre-
hending.

His mind, wonderfully precocious, was developed at the ex-
pense of his heart. Undue exercise of the one, as happens

86 CHAPTER IV.

with the Hmlbs of the "body, dwarfed or weakened the other.
He could elaborate vast schemes of political aggrandizement,
construct stupendous tomes of incontrovertible logic, establish
or demolish theories of perplexing ingenuity ; but he was ig-
norant of an unselfish emotion, incapable of an ennobling ex-
pression, and constitutionally insensible to other than personal
hopes and purposes. - ... ,.

All political dogmas, creeds and parties, were held by him
in like consideration. He found them all equally fallacious and
equally useful. He sacrificed no principle in espousing or re-
pudiating either or all, for he had no principles to sacrifice.
Without violence to his feelings or judgment, he admitted or
rejected propositions and measures. He knew but one test of
their soundness ; how far they were useful, so far and so long
they were right. In whatever other respect he resembled Cato
XJticaensis, in one he differed from him materially. The vida
causa never pleased him. The theory that failed was to him
illogical ; the party that feU, unprincipled. ■

This intense concentration of self upon self gave character
to his countenance, manners, and habits. He seemed as cold,
passionless and inscrutable as the Egyptian Sphynx, whose fate,
too, his own resembled. He was successful while his secret
was undiscovered, but that once exposed, he sunk for ever.

A disposition like his was its own Nemesis. Ever grasping
at honors, success rather exasperated than satisfied him. While
there was a step still higher, he was restless, discontented,
morose, till he reached it ; and when reached, the fear of its

DANIEL WEBSTEH. 87

loss was greater than the pleasure of its enjoyment, and kept
his mind in a constant turbulence. A want of sympathy for
others, deadened his own sense of his elevation ; he knew not
the increase of gratification from reflection. His merit, he
thought, provoked service, which, like virtue, was its own re-
ward. He therefore felt no gratitude, and acknowledged in
his favors no distinction between friend and enemy. Success
made him ungrateful, and defeat vindictive ; the one he easily
forgot, the other he never forgave.

This harshness of character developed itself in his writings.
Future ages no less than the present will suffer from its ex-
pression. A severe and unyielding logic pervades and oppresses
all his productions. There is nothing to move the affections,
to rouse the fancy, or open the heart, in any. In all the
mighty volumes of lectures, essays, correspondence, state-papers
and speeches with which he has terrified mankind, not a glo-
rious sentiment, magnanimous idea, or soul-stirring expression
occurs. They are all lava-like, destroying everything like
fertilization.

Such a character could secure no permanent popularity. It
was only to be appreciated, to be hated ; and the historian will
be compelled to record, among the most prominent causes of
Mr. Adams' ultimate defeat, his selfish, cold, unsympathetic
heart, characterizing manner and action.

His successful competitor was cast in a different mould.
Some virtues he had, and others he assumed. He was frank,
affable, and impressionable ; and if not always sincere, always

SS ^ CHAPTER IV.

had the appearance of sincerity. It was easier to pardon liis
vices, than to acknowledge the virtues of his rival ; the arro-
gance of the latter offending self-love, more than the former
the moral sense. ■ . - -' ,

It is not to be denied, however, that he had one element o
popularity which his opponent needed. This was his brilliant
military reputation. His courage and conduct in several severe
emergencies, and more particularly in one crisis of our public
afiliirs, during the last war with G-reat Britain, had gained
him the confidence and gratitude of his countrymen. This
element of strength had been sensibly felt in the preceding
canvass, and was perhaps the best solution of the almost in-
credible popularity which he enjoyed. ^ . . ;■

Still his military achievements, dazzling as they were, did
not constitute his sole claim to popular favor. He had filled
high stations in civil life, in National as well as in State G-ov-
ernment ; in all of which he had given evidence of a deter-
mined will, an honest purpose, and sagacious judgment, that
commanded the good-will of all classes. His character for
moral, physical, and intellectual energy was known everywhere.
He was thought to possess, too, qualities of mind rare in their
independent excellence, and only less than miraculous in their
combination. And hence there was a conviction, no more
earnest than general, with the well-informed no less than with
the vulgar, that he could cultivate with equal success the some-
what hostile arts of war and peace. -
Everything, therefore, on his accession to power, seemed to

DANIEL WEBSTER. 89

promisG its safe and long continuance. The aspect of the
political sky was unclouded. The almost unanimity of the
popular vote hy which this hero-statesman was borne into the
Presidency, ridiculed the very idea of opposition. Hardly a
latent inclination remained to combat the measures of his ad
ministration : the ability to do so with success seemed gone
for ever.

Yet though the Administration had no cause of apprehension
from outward assault, persons boasting more than ordinary
sagacity foresaw, or professed to foresee, the inevitable cause
of future and even early perplesity, to its councils. They
discovered it in the character of the political alliance that ob-
tained G-en. Jackson the Presidency ; in the original forma-
tion of this alliance ; its incongruous materials ; its compulsory
cohesion ; and in the different ends proposed by its several
constituent members.

It is to be admitted, that two divisions of the Democratic
party, professing and advocating doctrines diametrically oppo-
site, had leagued together to consummate, in the election of
Gen. Jackson, their own political ascendancy — one contending
for such a construction of the Constitution as authorized Con-
gress to protect domestic manufactures, appropriate money for
works of internal improvement, and, generally, to regulate and
control all interests strictly national ; the other, insisting upon
a close, precise, narrow construction, which gave none but
express powers, left nothing to inference or analogy. Of this '

latter division, the acknowledged head was Mr. Crawford, who

5 ■

90 CHAPTER IV.

had himself been a candidate for the Presidency in 1824, but
in 1828 had withdrawn his former pretensions, and gone in,
with all his friends, jDersonal and political, — the most distin-
guished of whom was Mr. Van Buren, — in unqualified support
of Gen. Jackson. This powerful and opportune accession had
contributed in a great degree to the singularly rapid augmen-
tation of the General's strength in the latter part of the canvass.

The division or section that urged a liberal construction of
the Constitution, was at least as strong, from the position and
ability of its leaders, and probably more so in the number of
its rank and file. It had, beside, all the weight of precedent
in its favor. It was a historical party. Its principles and
policy had become firmly rooted in the public mind, from the
countenance and furtherance they had met with from the two
immediately preceding Administrations. Works of internal
improvement, especially, had been recommended and carried
out by the Administration of Mr. Monroe ; and his policy in
this respect, as in most others, had not only been warmly sup-
ported, but even extended by his immediate successor.

Between these conflicting opinions it was contended. Gen.
Jackson would be compelled to decide ; and it was predicted
that his decision, which way soever it leaned, would neces-
sarily disturb, if it did not completely destroy, the harmony
of the party.

The necessity, however, for an election between these two
principles had not yet arrived. Gen. Jackson was at this
time sustained by a united, devoted and victorious party • and

DANIEL WEBSTER. ^ 91

nothing had occurred thus far in his administration to diminish
the attachment or weaken the confidence of the people, in his
person and character.

On his accession, it seemed to he generally conceded that
he would not be a candidate for re-election ; and, in conse-
quence, the party was about equally divided between the rival
pretensions of INIessrs. Calhoun and Yan Buren. But how-
ever ardent the jealousy, and unremitting the watchfulness
each of these eminent statesmen maintained towards the other,
no open demonstration of hostility affected their own relations,
or disturbed the intimacy of their mutual friends. Whatever
there was of dislike, distrust, and growing alienation between
them was studiously concealed, on either part, from the public.^
Their bearing towards each other seemed candid, even cordial ;
and from no outward indications could a suspicion of an ap-
proaching rupture be conjectured.

From the commencement of the administration up to the
time of this debate, the most perfect understanding seemed to
subsist between its distinguished chief, and the second officer
of the Grovernment, Mr. Calhoun. The latter had done the
former some service, and was supposed at this time to have
done him more. In the Presidential sweepstakes of 1824, he
had postponed his own candidatecy, and had aided, by his per-
sonal and official influence, to secure for the General the
nomination of Pennsylvania and its subsequent vote. In
JS28, he had continued and redoubled his exertions. He also
clauned, through \ .s friends, to have defended, in Mr. Mon-

92 CHAPTER IV.

ro'B's cabinet, Gen. Jackson''s conduct in tlio Seminole war,
and such at this time was the conviction of Grcn. Jackson
himself; who thus felt called upon from gratitude as well as
from policy, to cultivate a close intimacy with the Vice Presi-
dent. . . . ■ r X , , _. " • --

In consequence of this cnle.nte cordiah^ Mr. Calhoun's parti •
sans were appointed to some of the most lucrative and respon-
sible positions in the Government. Mr. Ingham, one of the
most devoted to his person and political fortunes, was placed
at the head of the Treasury, the most influential office in the
appointment of the President. "While no persons were re-
ceived at the AYhite House with warmer cordiality than his
nearest friends. Col. Ilayne, of South Caroling, deservedly
one of the most cherished of them, was a frequent attendant
and particular favorite there. In truth, so strict and confi-
dential an intimacy prevailed between the two highest officers
of the Government at this time, that persons supposed to be
in the possession of Gen. Jackson's confidence have not hesi-
tated since to declare, that but for the quarrel Yan Buren
and Forsyth contrived soon after to get up between them,
Gen. Jackson would have embraced the political principles
and furthered the aspirations of the Vice President. Such
indeed was then the common expectation. It was fated
however that the same disturbing element, by means of which
Harley and St. John ejected Godolphin and Marlborough
from the councils and confidence of Queen Anne, should be,
in the hands of men equally astute, the proximate cause of the

DANIEL WEBSTER. 93

rupture between Calhoun and Gen. Jackson. Dux famina
facti.

Notwithstanding the immense majority of the suffrage, with
which the administration had come into power, and the com-
plete rout its opponents had sustained, it entertained towards
the more j)rominent supporters of the late administration a
mino'led sentiment of vindictiveness and fear. There was no-
thino- in its conduct towards them of the forbearance becom-

o

ing a victorious and magnanimous party ; on the contrary,
their total annihilation seemed its dearest wish and only safe
assurance of permanent establishment. The friends of the
administration thought to pursue towards their chief oppo-
nents the same policy Tarquinius Superbus dictated to his
son, who had gained possession by unworthy arts of an impor-
tant city : to cut off the heads of the most noted men of the
place, that there might be no rallying names for the multitude.
Suppressing, therefore, for the time all inimical purposes to-
wards each other, Calhoun-men and Yan Buren-men, radicals
and conservatives, nourished a common dislilce, and united in
acts of common hostility, against the chiefs of the late admin-
istration.

Their rancor and purpose were particularly directed against
Mr. Webster, the acknowledged leader of the Anti-Jackson
party in the Senate, whom they equally feared and hated.
He had sustained the measures of the late administration with
zeal, energy, and efficiency ; had been its bulwark against all
foes ; and it had leaned upon him for support. During the

94 CHAPTER IV.

recent canvass, too, lie liad been most active in Mr. Adams'
cause ; and by tlie warmth and vigor of his political action had
controlled the nearly unanimous vote of New England against
G-en. Jackson. The friends of the administration therefore
could gratify, in his prostration, at once their animosity and
their policy. -

Contemporaneous authority gives encouragement to a sus-
picion that previous to the introduction of Foot's resolutions
respecting the public lands, it had been determined by the
leaders of the Jackson party to organize a crusade against Mr.
Webster. The subsidized presses of the party were most
violent in their abuse of his character, his history, and con-
duct. Mr. Adams and Mr. Clay having been driven into re-
tirement, there remained, in the ranks of the opposition, no
one but I^Ir. Webster of sufficient position, to embarrass to any
great extent the new dynasty. To revolutionize New Eng-
land, too, was a purpose they meditated and avowed ; and,
preparatory to its accomplishment, the overthrow of Mr.
Webster seemed necessary.

Whether such a conspiracy was ever matured or not, one
fact is incontestible ; that the nearest and most powerful
friends of both the Yice President and Secretary of State
simultaneously attacked Mr. Yf ebster, giving by the act to the
world all the ordinary evidence of preconcerted purpose.
Grundy and Livingston, Woodbury and Benton, Hayne,
Rowan, and Forsyth, all participated in the onslaught.

It was a combination of great power, from the character and

DANIEL WEBSTER. 95

position of tlio parties wlio composed it. Tliey were all men
of ability and reputation. Forsytli, it is true, took no open
part in the discussion. He was none the less felt in the advice
he gave, the information he afforded, and in the general diree
tiou of the strategy of debate. He was quick, cool, and o
infinite resources.

Grrundy and Livingston leave other reputation than what
they achieved in this debate. It is fortunate for their fame it
is so. For though the part they performed therein was not
discreditable, nor even undistinguished, their names gained
from it no additional lustre. They were no ordinary antagonists
in a dialectic contest. Their talents were of a high order.
Both had gone through an earnest intellectual training, which,
with their natural capacity for aiFairs, made them alike admir-
able in speech or action. Grundy was, of all the Senate,
nearest the President ; and the moral prestige of this relation
gave a direction, a weight, a conclusion to his words, not
rashly to be overlooked. He was prudent of speech, and gave
no offence, either by inconsiderate language or monotonous
fi-equency, in his Parliamentary efforts. It is true, he was
rather a debater than an orator, and more specious than pro-
found. But he knew how to detect and expose the weak
points of an adverse argument, and by the refutation of an-
other's sophisms, divert attention from his own. There was
an earnestness, withal, in his manner and countenance that
invited attention and encoura2;ed belief.

Livingston had a double claim to the respect of the Senate

96 CHAPTER IV.

from tlie past as well as the present. In earlier days, lie had
been the representative — the sole representative — of the first
commercial city in the Union, and was now a Senator from
one of its most flourishing, though youngest States, In both
capacities known and respected as an honorable man, intelli
gent and candid, polished in language and manner, and of un-
exceptionable character. He had seen a great diversity of
character, of age, and institutions, and knew how to make his
experience available, whether in the conduct of an argument,
or in the establishment of a policy. Few Senators were held
in greater esteem. He attacked no one ; he indulged in no vitu-
perative language. He opposed or defended measures, but he
never questioned motives, nor calumniated persons. In his
political career, while lie never was guilty of a partisan
meanness, he had on more than one occasion, displayed a libe-
rality of opinion and conduct seldom recorded of politicians.
He had advocated the Panama Mission, though opposed to the
administration of Mr. Adams ; an exhibition of moral couratre
that found few to praise and none to imitate it among his poli-
tical associates. His reputation as a man of honorable bear-
ing, cultivated intellect, and full experience in public life,
preceding him to the Senate, gained him an influence there,
which, from the day of his entrance, had daily increased.

Nothing but merit, and merit of the highest order, could
have raised Mr. Woodbury to the positions he has occupied in
the country. Successively, Judge of the Superior Court of
his native State, Senator in Congress, Secretary of two Depart-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 97

ments, and Judge of tlie Supreme Court of the United States ;
he has discharged the responsible duties of all these offices, if
not with unequalled ability, most certainly with far more than
ordinary capacity. He has better than realized the promise
of his earlier days, and is in truth one of the rare examples o
precocious talent confirmed and even strengthened in maturer
age. But still he has not — he never had — the gift of elo-
quence. It is not his — it never was — to rouse, to agitate, to
control the passions. Never on any one occasion of his
various and eminent life, at the bar, the hustings, or senate-
chamber, has he gained full mastery of the heart ; ever pre-
vailed upon his hearer to forget for one moment the speaker
in his subject. His mind has rather a logical than imaginative
character ; has been more employed in analysing than creat-
ing. His sensibility has ever been subject to his reasoning
faculties ; and he has been compelled by the absoluteness of
his mental organisation, to prefer serious argumentation, and
unfertilising facts to fancy, taste, or eloquence.

Benton discharged all sorts of 'missiles at the head of an
adversary, lilie a catapulta. Tropes, metaphors, similes, unsar-
very allusions, vituperative epithets, damnatory personalities,
he hurled upon the victim of his temporary anger. He
neither sought nor gave quarter ; one of the regular Black
Hussars of debate. His manner, if possible, was yet more
excited than his language; and his voice more belligerent than
either. His whole attitude was defiance, and each gesture a

provocation. An indifierent auditor might suppose from the
5*

98 CHAPTER IV.

extravagance of liis manner and language occasionally, that
he was "running a muck." Hahd fanum in cornu^ was at
such times the proper solution of his conduct.

His speech was "as often extraordinary, as his manner. He
"brought together such a mass of crude, undigested, indigesti-
ble compilations, overwhelming the subject-matter in its acci-
dents, so much useless accumulation, disjointed and inconse-
quent facts, impertinent allusions, and loose though labored
analogies, one could not but imagine that he had made a foray
into the territory of history, and seized upon booty, of which
he neither knew the value, nor cared for the destination.

Too often, wdiatever there was of invincible logic in his de-
clamation, was lost in diffusive speech, in useless generalities,
unconnected ej)isodes, and uncalled-for personalities. His
egotism at this time was almost ferocious ; it interpenetrated
every part of his speech, and made it sometimes absurd, some-
times farcical, and always offensive. But whenever for a time
he forgot himself in his subject, and became wholly absorbed
in its consideration, he was an antagonist not to be despised.
He had read much, he had observed much, he had hoarded
much ; and all he had read, observed, or hoarded he held at a
moment's command. If he could but bring his facts and il-
lustrations into line, so as to bear down in compact array upon
the enemy's centre, he pierced it and secured victory. But it
was unfortunate for him that his facts, undisciplined and irre-
gular, hung back upon the very point of engagement, and rc«
coiled, like elephants in Indian armies, upon their own friends.

DANIEL WEESTER. 99

I speak of Iilm as Iio was. Twenty years have passed since
tL^s debate took place. The closer study of mankind, of
books, and himself, has liberalized his temper, chastened his
style, and subdued his manner. He commits no such sole-
cisms of thought or conduct as formerly. He arrogates less
for his own position now, concedes more to his opponents'.
His speech is less discursive and more argumentative ; it neg-
lects persons and embraces propositions ; is more suggestive,
logical, and final. Still, though his deportment has more
suavit}^, his manner more amenity, and his speech less person-
ality than of old, he does not roar you now as gently an 'twere
any nightingale. He is Boanerges still.

On this occasion he headed the assault upon Mr. Webster,
or, at least, upon New England. And it is not improbable
that Mr. TVebster had him in view, when in his second speech
he spoke of " casting the characters of the drama, assigning to
each his part : to one the attack, to another the cry of onset."
A supposition the more likely, as Mr. Benton, in his speech,
justified the suspicion that an onslaught upon New England
and New England men, had been premeditated before the in-
troduction of this debate.

Eowan had some knowledge of Constitutional law, and
boasted more. His distinctions, however, were too nice, too
refined, too sublimated for comprehension. It is doubtful if
he understood his own propositions ; it is certain none others
could. His language was all esoteric : yet if he failed in con-
vincing his audience, he succeeded in puzzling them ; which ^

100 CHAPTER IV.

was a half-victory, like the battle of FoiitGnoy. It is besides
impossible to answer what it is impossible to understand' ; so
that J like the cuttle-fish, he often escaped detection in a dark-
ness of his own creation.

His argument on this occasion was long and elaborate. Su-
davit et alsit, to make it impregnable. It was mostly, how-
ever, tedious, illogical, inconsequent. Still there were fitful
passages in it of indubitable merit, revealing some talent, and
suggestive of more.

Hayne dashed into debate, like the Mameluke cavalry upon
a charge. There was a gallant air about him, that could not
but win admiration. He never provided for retreat ; he never
imagined it. He had an invincible confidence in himself, which
arose partly from constitutional temperament, partly from pre-
vious success. His was the l^iapoleonic warfare ; to strike at
once for the capitol of the enemy, heedless of danger or cost
to his own forces. 'Not doubtino; to overcome all odds, he
feared none, however seemingly superior. Of great fluency
and no little force of expression, his speech never halted, and
seldom fatigued.

His oratory was graceful and persuasive. An impassioned
manner, somewhat vehement as times, but rarely if ever ex-
travagant ; a voice well-modulated and clear ; a distinct,
though rapid enunciation ; a confident, but not often offensive
address ; these, accompanying and illustrating language well
selected, and periods well turned, made him a popular and
effective speaker.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 101

His forte was, still, rather declamation tlian argument : oi
close, severe ratiocination, wliicli rejects everything hut what
leads to conviction, he knew but little. He had never mas-
tered the science of dialectics ; hut he was not without a cer-
tain kind of s]3ecious logic, which, with the multitude of lis-
teners, would pass for current coin. It had the form, the
impress, and superficial appearance of the pure metal : but it
wanted weight on examination, and had no genuine ring in its
sound.

Col. Hayne was, incontestibly, the most formidable of Mr.
"W-^ebster's opponents. He had more native and acquired
ability than any of them. Such is the concurrent opinion of
all who witnessed this great forensic contest ; among others, of
the Hon. Mr. Everett, of Massachusetts ; who is himself no
less distinguished as an orator, than for diplomatic ability and
general acquirements. " It is unnecessary to state," says he,
" except to those who have come forward quite recently, that Col,
Hayne was a gentleman of ability very far above the average,
a highly accomplished debater, an experienced politician, a,
person possessing the full confidence of his friends, and en-
tirely familiar with the argument on which the theory con-
troverted in Mr. Webster's speech rests."

The Senate was prepared to receive him favorably. He had
been distinguished in the politics of his own State, and sanguine
anticipations were indulged in by his friends of his great suc-
cess when transferred to a larger sphere of action. Before his
speeches in this great controversy, he had occasionally addressed

102 CHAPTER IV.

the Senate, and displayed qualities of mind wliich seemed to
justify all previous encomiums. He was, too, personally
popular ; an advantage of no inconsiderable nature in whatever
contest or undertaking a man is engaged with his fellows. His
consciousness of the favor with which everything he says or
does is received, gives him a confidence and an energy which
stimulate to great words or deeds.

Col. Hayne deserved his popularity. He had a courteous
and frank address, conciliatory manners and deportment. He
was high-minded and sincere ; easy and agreeable in conver-
sation ; of great vivacity of intellect, and mercurial talent.

Such was the formidable character of the combination Mr.
Webster found himself compelled by circumstances to meet.
Never before, in Parliamentary annals, did one man encounter
such fearful odds. The instance most like it, when Pulteney,
and Pitt, and Littleton and Chesterfield, with others less dis-
tinguished, united in a simultaneous attack upon Walpole
differs in one important respect : Walpole had official position,
the king's name, and a majority of the Commons in his favor
— advantages that held him up even agarist intellectual supe-
riority. Mr. Webster had nothing but himself to rely upon,
with an equally powerful array against him. But both were
intellectual combats, which, from the character of the actors
and the various and momentous interests involved therein,
have never been surpassed in any country or age.

To publish all the speeches of this great debate would re-
quire volumes. Still the debate itself would be hardly appre-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 103

ciated but from reference to tlie actors in it. The drama
could not be complete, with even the subordinate parts left
out : there was no such insignificant character in it but aided
in some way the denouement.

The debate itself is a complete epic ; only instead of wars
and combatants, we have argument and orators. It is not a
vulgar exhibition of brute strength — a gladiatorial or pugilistic
encounter ; but an intellectual struggle — the collison of mind
with mind — the development of all the highest intelligence in
man. The principles and truths evolved from its consider-
ation will endure with the country for which they were intended,
exalting its character and ennobling its destiny.

There were others of the Senate, less prominent before
the public, of the dominant party, equally active in their
exertions on this occasion : some of whom served as videttes,
being thrown out in advance to gain and supply information
respecting the enemy, and falling back upon the main body
v^ben battle joined. If the parts they performed were less
distinguished than those of the persons enumerated, they
seemed as necessary to success. Hardly a Senator of the
dominant party but performed some duty on the occasion.

It is bosides to be considered that the whole moral influence
of the administration was directed against Mr. Webster. This,
powerful at all times, was doubly so now. The iron will of
Gen. Jackson subdued all minds to his : it j)enetrated and
controlled every member of his administration or party, from

104 CHAPTER IV.

the lilgliest to tlie lowest. There is a species of fascination ii
a severe, inflexible will, that few have the moral energy to re-
sist. It seems to partake of the character of destiny, in the
certain accomplishment of its pm-pose. It paralyses weaker
minds, and makes them the puppets of its action.

The one idea of G-en. Jackson's administration was devotion
to himself. He allowed every variety of opinion and all free-
dom of conduct consistent with this. He forgave all moral
obliquities with plenary absolution. There was with him but
one unpardonable sin : it was resistance to his will.

He united in himself the whole force of his party. He was
the Democratic party, as Louis XIY. was " the State."
When he came into power, Democracy had local significa-
tions ; in one place it meant tariiF, in another free trade ; —
sometimes, " internal improvement," and sometimes, ^' strict
construction." He gave it a definite name and character,
which was not one in G-eorgia and another in Maine, but the
same everywhere, of equal meaning and potency. The
" Democratic" was lost in the Jackson party. ' .

He gave it unity, consistency, and rigor of action. He
could concentrate it upon one point, with one will. No one
ever had round him more devoted followers — for though harsh
to his enemies, he was always true to his friends. He would
exert his whole power, outstrip all constitutional restrictions
to gratify a friend. And this was the great secret of his
power. His fidelity to friendship passed into provej'b, and
gained him the great heart of the nation.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 105

Wliat could not such a man at the head of such a partj?
accomplish of good or evil ? It is true, that so early in his
administration, as the time now written of, he had not ob-
tained the fearful ascendancy in the country or in CongresSj
as at a later period. But even now the influence of his
character was deeply felt ; and had he chosen to put forth
his whole strength in any one dh-eetion, the result at least
mif^ht lono- have remained doubtful.

But it is due the memory of this distinguished patriot, sol-
dier, and statesman to say, that he never entertained towards
Mr. Webster any of that vehemence of personal bitterness,
which he sometimes exhibited towards his opponents. He
was of too mao-nanimous character to hate a mao-nanimous
foe. Mr. Webster never flattered, deceived, or abused him ;
never opposed his measures, but in an honorable manner, and
with res|)ectful language. In the campaign that had just
terminated, Mr. Webster, in warmly supporting the cause of
his rival, was careful to use no harsh language of him, or his
pretensions : on the contrary, upon more than one occasion^
when circumstances seemed to require the mention of his name,
had spoken, in terms of fit encomium, of his distinguished mili-
tary services. The G-eneral, who never forgot a favor or an
injury, and who was as ready to acknowledge courtesy as to
avenge insult, nm-sed, therefore, no feeling of personal unkind-
ness for Mr. Webster ; and the intercourse between these two
eminent men at this time though not intimate nor cordialj

106 CHAPTER IV.

was not unfriendly. Ge" Jackson tolerated, it may be, but
did not second the attack upj.1 Mr. Webster.

Still the Alliance used his name ; which was " a tower of
strength" to them. It whipped in the refractory, confirmed
the wavering, and terrified the timid. "-_

CHAPTER y.

On tlie 29tli day of December, 1S29, Mr. Foote of Conn,
offered, in tlie Senate of tlie United States, t^e following reso-
lution :

" jKeso/recZ, that the Committee on Public Lands be instructed
to enquire into the expediency of limiting for a certain period
the sales of the public lands to such lands only, as have been
heretofore offered for sale, and are subject to entry at the
minimum price. Also, whether the office of Surveyor G-eneral
may not be abolished without detriment to the public interest."

Some skirmishing immediately occurred on the introduction
of the resolution between Benton, Noble, Woodbury, Holmes,
and Foote ; but no one imagined it was soon to be followed by
a regular engagement. A motion being made and carried to
postpone the consideration of the resolution till the next Mon-
day, the excitement for the time subsided.

When the resolution on the day specified came up for dis-
cussion, Mr-. Foote remarked that in twelve years' experience
in legislative assemblies, it was not within his recollection that
a resolution merely for enquiry had been made a special order.
As he could not discover any benefit wliich could possibly

108 CHAPTER T.

arise from introducing this practice, he should decline giving
it his sanction, by taking the lead in the debate.

Some insignificant discussion hereupon having taken place
among Senators, the resolution passed over for the day.

When it next came up for consideration on Monday the
3 8th, Mr. Benton took the floor and made a speech bearing
evident indications of study and preparation. In the course
of his remarks, he made a violent a." tack upon New England,
its men and institutions. He denounced the policy of New
England towards the West as illiberal and unjust — but ex-
tolled the generosity of the South. " The West must still
look," he said, "to the solid phalanx of the South for
succor." s ' • , - ' ' '■ - J ^ ■ -

The whole character of the speech revealed a previous in-
tention to attack New England ; and, in one he made subse-
quent to this, he asserted that he had been informed, during
the vacation, of a design to introduce such a resolution, and
declared his determination to meet it. It was brought in,
he said, to forestall his own purpose. " It was introduced to
check-mate my graduation bill ! It was an offer of battle to
the West ! I accepted the offer ; I am fighting the battle ;
some are crying out and hauling off ; but I am standing to it,
and mean to stand to it. I call upon the adversary to come
on and lay on, and I tell him —

" Damned be he, that first cries hold, enough !"

This sentiment and the style of its utterance, arc severe!]^

DANIEL WEBSTER. 109

Bentonian. A harmless resolution of Incjiiiry respecting a
measure of public policy was converted, in tlie alembic of his
egotism, into a studied attack upon himself, or, it may be, he
sought to make another seem the aggressor, in order to cover
his own hostile intent.

He was followed by Col. Hayne, who, after returning his
complimentary salute, " The South would always sympathize
with the West," poured also a broadside into New England,

He placed in unpleasant contrast to the conduct of the
South, the action of the Eastern States upon the question of
the public lands, which he characterized as selfish and unprin-
cipled. The East was unwilling — he said — that the public
lands should be thrown open on easy terms to settlers, for fear
of its being drained of population. It sought to retain its
population at home for manufacturing purposes. " To create
a manufactory of paupers, who should supply the manufacto-
ries of rich proprietors, and enable them to amass great
wealth."

The suddenness of this attack upon New England, its
warmth, and evident malice, took Mr. Webster by surprise.
He could not but feel that the onslaught upon the East was
intended as a personal attack. Yet he was conscious of hav-
ing given no provocation to either of the aggressors. He had
neither sought nor accepted an opportunity to annoy them

He was not even aware of Mr. Foote's intention to introduce
any such resolution ; but yet he could see no harm in its
terms or purpose, nor impropriety in its introduction. His

110 CHAPTER V.

relations witli tlie two Senators, tliongli not intimate, were noi
hostile. He had neither given nor taken offence. It has in
deed been said, that at the close of the preceding session^
Colonel Hajne had made a wanton and somewhat intemperate
attack upon his opinions and conduct, which would have
elicited a suitable reply, but for the interposition and entrea-
ties of the Hon. John Reed and other members from Massa-
chusetts, who feared a controversy between them at that time
would endanger the satisfactory adjustment of some Massa-
chusetts claim then on its passage though the Senate. Yield-
ing to their solicitations, Mr. Webster discarded all resentful
feeling and withheld a reply. To this^ or some similar circum-
stance, he may be supposed to allude in the earlier part of his
great speech, when speaking of Colonel Hayne's assault upon
him. " Some passages, it is true, had occurred since our ac-
quaintance in this body, which I could have wished might
have been otherwise ; but I had used philosophy and forgotten
them." With Mr. Benton he had never been on terms of
social or personal intimacy, yet bore towards him a relation of
senatorial courtesy. ' ~

As soon as Colonel Hayne concluded his speech, Mr.
Webster took the floor in reply. It was late, however, in the
day, and he gave way on a motion from Mr. Benton to adjourn.
In making the motion, Mr. Benton said he was unwilling that
the harmony of the sounds which had just pervaded the
Senate-chamber, and which still lingered upon the delighted

DANIEL WEBSTER. Ill

tympanum of Senators, should be "broken in upon by aught
discordant.

The next day Mr. "Webster replied to the speech of Colonel
Hayne. The growing interest of the controversy attracted a
more than usual crowd to the Senate. It appeared evident
to every one, a drama of some importance was going on.

Mr. "Webster defended the conduct of the Eastern States
towards the "West as regarded the question of the public
lands, and disproved, by historical analysis, the accusation of
neglect or hostility on their part. All that he said in this
speech on the public lands, forms an admirable state paper
He had evidently carried the subject before in his mind. Al-
luding to the beneficial influence of the action of the general
government upon the settlement of Ohio, and in the develop-
ment of its vast natural resources, an action which he showed had
been stimulated and directed by New England votes — he said,
comparing the Ohio of 1794 with the Ohio of 1830: "And
here, sir, at the epoch of ] 794, let us pause and survey the
scene. It is now thirty-five years since that scene actually ex-
isted. Let us, sir, look back and behold it. Over all that is
now Ohio, there then stretched one vast wilderness, unbroken,
except by two small spots of civilized culture, the one at Ma-
rietta, the other at Cincinnati. At these little openings,
hardly a pin's point upon the map, the arm of the frontiers-
man had levelled the forest and let in the sun. These little
patches of earth, themselves almost shadowed by the over-
hanging boughs of that wilderness, which had stood and per-

112 CHAPTER V.

petuated itself, from century to century, ever since the Crea-
tion, were all that had been rendered verdant by the band of
man. In an extent of hundreds and thousands of square miles,
no other surface of smiling green attested the presence of
civilization. The hunter's path crossed mighty rivers, flowing
in solitary grandeur, whose sources lay in remote and unknown
regions of the wilderness. It struck upon the North, on a
vast inland sea, over which the wintry tempests raged as on
the ocean ; all around was bare creation. It was a fresh, un-
touched, unbounded, magniScent wilderness ! And, sir, what
is it now? Is it imagination only, or can it possibly be fact,
that presents such a change as surprises and astonishes us,
when we turn our eyes to what Ohio now is ? Is it reality or
a dream, that in so short a period as even thirty-five years,
there has sprung up on the same surface an independent
State, with a million of people ? A million of inhabitants !
An amount of population greater than all the Cantons of
Switzerland ; equal to one-third of all the people of the United
States when they undertook to accomplish their independence.
If, sir, we may judge of measures by their results, what
lessons do these facts read us upon the policy of the govern-
ment ? what inferences do they not authorise upon the general
question of kindness or imkindness.? what convictions do
they enforce, as to the wisdom and ability, on the one hand,
or the folly and incapacity on the other, of our general
management of "Western affairs ? For my own part, while I
am struck with wonder at the success, I also look with admi-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 113

ration at the wisdom and foresight which originally arranged
and prescribed the system for the settlement of the public
domain." - -

In relation to the comparative aid afforded by the East and
South to the settlement of the West, Mr. "Webster said : " I
undertake to say, sir, that if you look to the votes on any one
of these measures, and strike out from the list of ayes the
names of New England members, it will be found that in every
case the South would then have voted down the West, and the
measure would have failed."

In conclusion Mr. Webster said : " The Senate will bear
me witness that I am not accustomed to allude to local opin-
ions, nor to comj^are nor contrast different portions of the coun-
try. I have often suffered things to pass which I might pro-
perly enough have considered as deserving a remark, without
any observation. But I have felt it my duty on this occasion,
to vindicate the State which I represent from charges and im-
putations on her public character and conduct, which I know
to be undeserved and unfounded. If advanced elsewhere, they
might be passed, perhaps, without notice. But whatever is
said here is supposed to be entitled to public regard, and to
deserve public attention ; it derives importance and dignity
from the place where it is uttered. As a true representative
of the State which has sent me here, it is my duty, and a duty
which I shall fulfil, to place her history and her conduct, her
honor and her character, in their just and proper light.

^' WhUe I stand here as representative of Massachusetts, I
i 6

114 CHAPTER V.

will be her true representative, and by tlie blessing of God, I
will vindicate lier character, motives, and history, from every
imputation, coming from a respectable source.''

If Mr. Webster betrayed in this speech an unusual warmth
of manner and language, his sufficient apology is the provoca
tion he had received. New England, — and more particularly
Massachusetts, his foster-mother, — had been gratuitously as-
sailed, and, as he could not but believe, with direct reference
to himself. He had been struck at where his sensibilities were
deepest and keenest — in his love of homo ; — and had he re-
mained silent or even contented himself with simply repelling
the attack, his constituency and the world would have pro-
nounced him craven. This was not besides the sole provoca-
tion he had received ; this was not the solitary occasion on
which his temper had been sorely tried. The dominant party
in the Senate, mad with its excessive victory, had previously
teazed and goaded him. He had borne much, — some thought
too much, — with "a patient shrug." The time had come
when, in more than his own opinion, he should take the field in
earnest. -

On Tuesday, January 21st, — the day after Mr. Webster's
speech, — the Senate resumed again the consideration of Mr.
Foote's resolution.

Before the debate recommenced, Mr. Chambers, of Md.,
rose and expressed a hope that the Senate would consent to
postpone further consideration of the resolution till the Mon-
day following, as Mr. Webster who had taken part in it and

DANIEL WEBSTER. 115

wislied to be present at its continued discussion had unayoida-
Ible eno;ao;ements elsewhere.

There was a case of some importance on argument before
the Supreme Court in which Mr. Webster was retained as
counsel. Compelled to watch its progress, for he knew not at
what moment he might be called upon to address the Bench,
he had not been able to comiaand more than an occasional
presence in the Senate. He was not present when the resolu-
tion was introduced, nor more than a fractional portion of the
time while Mr. Benton spoke.

The request was denied him. Col. Hayne rose in evident
agitation, and insisted that the debate should go on without
postponement. He said with some superciliousness of man-
ner and with an angry intonation of voice, that he saw the
gentleman from Massachusetts in his seat ; and presumed, if
he really desired it, he could make an arrangement which
would enable him to be present at the discussion that day.
He would not consent that the subject should be postponed,
until he had had an opportunity of replying to some of the ob-
servations which had fallen from the gentleman the day before.
Putting his hand to his heart, he said, " he had something
there, which he wished to get rid of. The gentleman had dis-
charged his fire in the face of the Senate ; and he demanded an
oppoi'tunity of returning the shot."

^' Then it was" — to use the words of a distinguished mem-
ber of Congress from a Southern State who was present on
tJKe occasion — " that Mr. Webster's person seemed to become

^^i:

116 CHAPTER V.

taller and larger. His chest expanded, and his eyeballs dilate
ed. Folding his arms in a composed, firm, and most expres-
sive manner, he exclaimed : ^ Let the discussion proceed. I
am ready. I am ready now to receive the gentleman's fire.'
Oh, my dear sir, I wish I could convey to you even some faint
idea of the true grandeur that then marked his manner and
countenance."

Mr. Benton, who had gained the floor the day previous on
the conclusion of Mr. Webster's remarks, then rose and ad-
dressed the Senate for an hour. In the earlier part of the
speech, he undertook to remove all pretension of Nathan Dane
to the authorship of the Ordinance of '87, which he claimed
for Thomas Jefferson. Speaking as if he had accomplished
the undertaking, beyond the possibility of denial, he said :
" But yesterday the name of Nathan Dane, of Beverly, Massa-
chusetts, hung in equipoise against half the names of the sages
of G-reece and Rome, Poetry and eloquence were at work to
blazon his fame ; marble and brass, and history and song, were
waiting to perform their office. The celestial honors of the
apotheosis seemed to be only deferred for the melancholy
event of the sepulchre. To-day, all this superstructure of
honors, human and divine, disappears from the earth. The
foundation of the edifice is sapped ; and the superhuman
glories of him, who, twenty-four hours ago, was taking his sta-
tion among the demi-gods of antiquity, have dispersed and
dissipated into thin air — vanishing like the baseless fabric of a
vision, which leaves not a wreck behind."

DANIEL WEBSTER. - Wl

Apart from the egotism, somewhat atrocious of the speech,
there was a good deal of merit in it. It displayed no little in-
genuity of argument, and much power of invective, with some
considerable amount of political and miscellaneous learning ;
the latter all poured out, however, in one turbid gush.

The debate had by this time assumed a character that left
no doubt of the intention of its promoters. To disinterested
persons who had been thus far present in the discussion, no-
thing seemed now more evident than a determined purpose on
the part of the majority to crush Mr. Webster. Out of the
Senate, his approaching and inevitable discomfiture was among
the friends of the Administration the prominent and most
agreeable topic of conversation ; in their opinion his doom was
certain ; for he was not only to be assailed by the ordinary
force of the party, but was fated to encounter the irresistible
attack of the great statesman and orator. Gen. Hayne, of
South Carolina — the very Achilles of the South ; unlike Ho-
mer's hero, however, vidneraUe nowhere ! Benton complain-
ed in the open Senate that there would be nothing left for him
to do ; while Rowan and those near him congratulated them-
selves that they too at least would be "in at the death."

The warm blood of Col. Hayne could not brook the post-
ponement of vengeance. He besought his friend from Mis-
souri to yield the floor, while he replied to the Senator from
Massachusetts. Mr. Benton gave a cheerful assent ; but be-
fore Col. Hayne commenced, Mr. Bell, of New Hampsliire,

118 CIIATTER V.

made another motion to adjourn till the Monday following.
This motion was lost by a strict party vote.

Col. Hayne then rose and entered upon his speech. His
exordium was respectable in point of ability, and gave assu-
rance of a well -prepared speech. Every one must judge of it for
himself. The high estimate that had previously been formed
of his talents and character disposed the Senate and audience
to listen attentively ; and there was much in the earlier part
of the speech particularly to confirm the common opinion
of his abilities and to command attention.

As he proceeded, his tone and language became more ve-
hement : his allusions more personal. There was an angry
inflection in his voice, indicative of loss of temper. His bear-
ing betrayed a good deal of self-confidence, at times almost
arrogance. He seemed certain of victory, and only doubtful
how much of his strength he should put forth. Violent as were
his personalities, and bitter his invective, they were less in-
tolerable yet than the insolence of his charity ; for he seemed
to arrest ever and anon " the thunder in mid volley," not to
annihilate all at once his inevitable victim.

Sympathizing and exulting friends surrounded him, from
whose countenances he read the apparent success of his
philippic. They urged him on with looks and encouraging
words. The eye of the Yice-President, which, alone of his
features, ever indicated an emotion, shone approvingly. Nor
did he confine his assistance to a glance of approbation. Con-
stantly during the progress of the discussioUj he sent notes,

DANIEL WEBSTER. 119

suggestiye, illustrative aud acivisatory to tlie orator, Ly one of
tliG pages of the Senate.

Col. Hajne had other advisers and other contributors in and
out of the Senate, who supplied him with all the damnatory
paragraphs the press had ever thrown out, in its moments o*
greatest excitement against New England, Mr. Webster, or
his friends. They lie piled upon the orator's desk — Pelion
upon Ossa — " an ass's load."

In speaking afterwards of such attempts to injure him, Sir.
Webster said : " The journals were all pored over, and the
reports ransacked, and scraps of paragraphs and half sentences
were collected, put together in the falsest manner, and then
made to flare out as if there had been some discovery. But
all this failed. The nest resort was to supposed correspond-
ence. My letters were sought for, to learn, if, in the confidence
of private friendship, I had never said anything which an
enemy could make use of Yv^itli this view, the vicinity of my
former residence was searched, as with a lighted candle. Xew
Hampshire was explored from the mouth of the Merrimack
to the White Hills."

Who of Mr. Webster's political opponents in or out of the
Senate acted as " scavengers" on this occasion, it were un-
necessary, if it were possible, to mention. They were fully
punished in the failure of their unmanly efforts. The greatest,
perhaps the only punishment, the unprincipled machinator
feels, is a sense of useless rascality.

Col. Ilayne spoke this day, Thursday, January 21st, a little

120 - CHAPTER V.

more tlian an hour. The Senate then adjourned over till
Monday following. To give the Senator from Massachusetts
fair warning of the fate that awaited him, Col. Hajne, on the
conclusion of this day's remarks, spoke as follows : '' Sir, the
gentleman from Massachusetts has thought proper for pur-
poses best known to himself, to strike the South through me ;
the most unworthy of her servants. He has crossed the bor-
der, he has invaded the State of South Carolina, is making
war upon her citizens, and endeavoring to overthrow her prin-
ciples and her institutions. Sir,' when the gentleman provokes
me to such a conflict, I meet him at the threshold — I will
struggle, while I have life, for our altars and our firesides, and
if Grod gives me strength, I will drive ba'?k the invader dis-
comfited. Nor shall I stop there. If the gentleman provokes
war, he shall have war. Sir, I will not stop at the border ; I
will carry the war into the enemy's territory, and not consent
to lay down my arms, until I shall have obtained ' indemnity
for the past, and security for the future.' It is with unfeigned
reluctance that I enter upon the performance of this part of
my duty : I shrink, almost instinctively, from a course, how-
ever necessary, which may have a tendency to excite sectional
, feelings, and sectional jealousies. But, sir, the task has been
forced upon me, and I proceed right onward to the perform-
ance of my duty ; be the consequences what they may, the
responsibility is with those who have imposed upon me the
necessity. The Senator from Massachusetts has thought
proper to cast the first stone, and if he shall find, according to

DANIEL WEBSTER. 121

a homely adage, tliat ^ he lives in a glass-house,' on his head
be the consequences."

This language is minatory : it is also somewhat arrogant.
As if the consummation necessarily followed the menace. The
Senator from South Carolina spoke tx cathedrd. He was
buoyed up by the applause of friends and his own sanguine
temperament. _ ■ .

The Senate adjourned over to the following Monday. The
town was full of excitement. The severe nature of Col.
Hayne's attack, the ability with which it was conducted, his
great reputation, the eminence of the combatants, and the
doubtful issue of the contest afforded ample scope for various
dir^cussion. The friends of Col. Hayne were much elated at
what they considered his brilliant dehut^ and confidently pre-
dicted his ultimate triumph. Mr. "Webster's friends doubted,
and hoped.

A simultaneous and seemingly preconcerted attack upon
New England from the leaders of Southern and Western
Democracy raised among the Eastern men, of whatever politi-
cal opinions, a common feeling. Party-spirit was wholly
merged in wounded national (or local) pride. Sympathy for
the cause, and for Mr. "Webster in the isolated position he
held against such a powerful array, overrode for the time all
prejudice against his person or political principles The Yan-
kee predominated over the Democrat. . ^

"When the Senate convened again on Monday, the agitation

in men's minds, growing daily stronger from the previous
6*

122 CHA.PTER V.

adjournment, had gained a feverish character. The long time
afforded CoL Hajne for additional preparation, his rumored
consultations with the Yice-President, and the confident man-
ner both of himself and friends added new force to the excite
ment, and promised richer entertainment from the discussion
so the Senate-chamber was more filled and earlier than usual.

Col. Hayne commenced this day with a history of th$
Hartford Convention, illustrated by the documentary evidence
his " scavengers" had hunted up. The whole affair is a
tedious farrago, which not even his name could elevate into
importance. Four columns and a half of the Intelligencer
were crowded with such matter — quotations from newspapers,
pamphlets and sermons — read to the Senate " with good ac-
cent and good discretion." His elocution was fluent and
melodious ; this alone reconciled Senate and audience to what
would in itself have been absurdly tedious.

Passages will be found in the speech of real eloquence,
sparsely scattered, however. There is no sustained power
throughout, but acting only at fitful intervals. The .best hit
perhaps the speaker made was his charge against Mr. "Webster
of inconsistency upon the subject of the Tariff. It is conveyed,
too, in language better selected and more expressive than his
usual style. Speaking of Mr. Webster's anti-tariff speech m
'24, Col. Hayne said : " On that occasion he, the gentlemen,
assumed a position which commanded the respect and admi-
ration of his country. He stood forth the powerful and fear-
less champion of free-trade. He met in that conflict the ad-

DANiEL WEBSTER. ' 123

vocatGS of restriction and monopoly, and tliey ' fled from
before his face.' With a profound sagacity, a fulness of
knowled'1-e, and a richness of illustration that has never been
surpassed, he maintained and established the principles of
commercial freedom on a foundation never to be shaken
Great indeed was the victory achieved by the gentleman on
that occasion ; most striking the contrast between the clear, for-
cible and convincing arguments by which he carried away the
understanding of his hearers, and the narrow views and
wretched sophistry of another distinguished orator, who may
be truly said to have ' held up his farthing candle to the sun.'
Sir, the Senator from Massacliusetts on that (the proudest
day of his life) like a mighty giant, bore away upon his shoul-
ders the pillars of the temple of error and delusion, escaping
himself unhurt, and leaving; his adversaries overwhelmed in its
ruins. Then it was that he erected to free-trade a beautiful
and enduring monument, and ' inscribed the marble with his

name

5 57

The vehemence of the orator's language and the earnestness
of his manner, produced no little effect upon his audience.
They naturally begat sympathy. No one had time to deliber-
ate upon his words, or canvass his statements. The dashing
nature of the attack ; the assurance, almost insolence, of its
tone ; the severity and apparent truth of the accusations, con-
founded almost every hearer. The immediate impression
from the speech was most assuredly disheartening to the cause
Mr. Webster upheld. The friends of the Administration

124 CHAPTER V.

qualified by no regard for person or place the extent of their
exultation. Congratulations from almost every quarter were
showered upon the speaker. Mr. Benton said, in the full
Senate, that much as Col. Hayne had done before to establish
his reputation as an orator, a statesman, a patriot, and a gal-
lant son of the South, the efforts of that day would eclipse and
surpass the whole. It would be an era in his senatorial career
which his friends and his country would mark and remember,
and look back upon with pride and exultation. "' . .

Nor was lavish praise of the speech confined to Mr. Benton
or the Senate. Abroad, it gained equal commendation. The
press of the Administration extolled it as the greatest effort of
the time, or of other times. Chatham, nor Burke, nor Fox,
had surpassed it, in their palmiest days. Immense exer-
tions were made to throw it into general circulation, that
public opinion might be forestalled in regard to the great
question of the constitutional power of the G-eneral Government.

Satisfaction, however, with the speech even among the
friends of the orator was not unanimous. Among others, Mr.
Calhoun, and Mr. Iredell, a Senator from North Carolina,
doubted. These gentlemen knew, for they had felt Mr. Web-
ster's power. They knew the great resources of his mind ;
the immense range of his intellect ; the fertility of his imagi-
nation ; his copious and fatal logic ; the scathing severity of
his sarcasm, and his full and electrifying eloquence. To a
friend of Hayne's, who was praising the speech, Mr. Iredell

DANIEL WEBSTER. 125

said : " He has started the lion — but wait till we hear hia
roar, or feel his claws."

Grloomy fears, in the meantime, for the most part, ojDpressed
Mr., Webster's friends. The savageness of the attack, its
seeming premeditation and powerful support gave them no en-
couragement of a successful resistance. They felt for Mr.
Webster ; they also felt for themselves. Their local pride, their
love of fame, the first to spring up in the heart of man, the last
to leave it, was deeply mortified. " -

Everywhere during the evening and night following, the
merits of the speech were canvassed. The town was divided
into geographical opinions. One's home could be distinguish-
ed from his countenance, or manner ; a Southerner's by his
buoyant, joyous expression, and confident air ; a Yankee's, by

his timid, anxious eye, and depressed bearing. One walked

*

with a bold, determined step, that courted observation ; the
other, with a hesitating, shuffling gait, that seemed to long for
some dark corner, some place to hear and see, and be unseen.

Immediately upon the conclusion of Colonel Hayne's
speech, Mr. Webster took the floor in reply ; but, it being
near four o'clock in the afternoon, gave way to a motion for
adjournment. Mr. Everett has kindly furnished the writer
with some notes of a conversation he had with Mr. Webster
the evening before his speech.

" Mr. Webster conversed with me freely and at length upon
the subject of the reply, which he felt it necessary to make to
Colonel Hayne's speech. He regarded that speech as an en-

12G CHAPTER V.

tirely unprovoked attack upon the Eastern States, which it
was scarcely possible for him, as a New England Senator, to
leave unnoticed. He thought Colonel Hayne's speech, how-
ever, much more important in another point of view, that is
as an exposition of a system of politics, which, in Mr. W.'s
opinion, went far to change the form of government from that
which was established by the Constitution, into that (if it could
be called a government) which existed under the confedera-
tion. He expressed his intention of putting that theory to
rest for ever, as far as it could be done by an argument in the
Senate Chamber. " ~ •

T^ tP ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ■ \

" I never saw him more calm and self-possessed, nor in
better spirits ; and in fact the dry business tone in which he
partly talked and partly read over his points to me, gave me
some uneasiness, for fear he was not sufficiently aware how
much was expected of him the next day."

An anecdote of Mr. Webster's equanimity under the inflic-
tion of Hayne is told by another friend, who called on Mr.
Webster the same evening. While he was present, Mr. Web-
ster laid down on the sofa for a nap — ^' his custom sometimes of
an afternoon" — and after a while was overheard laughing to
himself. On being questioned as to what amused him so, he
replied : " I have been thinking of what Col. Hayne said to-
day about Banquo's ghost ; and I am going to get up and
make a note of it."

Col. Hayne, it will be remembered, had in his second

DANIEL WEBSTER. 127

speech accused Mr. Webster of sleeping upon his first. ^ The
mere matter of fact," said Mr. W. in his reply, ' is undoubt-
edly true. I did sleep on the gentleman's speech and slept
soundly ; and I slept equally well on his speech of yesterday
to which I am now replying." In truth, Col. Hayne's attack,
furious as it was, had cost him neither loss of appetite, temper .
or sleep."

It is not to be disguised, however, that his friends, — even
his most intimate, — entertained fearful apprehensions. Mr.
Webster's adversaries had selected their own time for attack,
and made every preparation they thought necessary to ensure
success. They were confident in their numbers, confident
from their position and individual importance, and confident
in the strength of their cause. There is always something, too,
of advantage in assuming the aggressive ; courage suggests,
and vu'tuous anticipations await an attack : while a defensive
position is seemingly an acknowledgment of weakness.

The momentous interests involved in the discussion staa;-
gered the minds of many. The pernicious heresy of nullifica-
tion, tolerated if not encouraged in the high places of the Ad-
ministration, threatened the constitution and the union of the
States. It had already gained in different sections of the coun-
try too great a prevalence ; and if now successfully advocated
in the Senate of the United States, little hope could be enter-
tained of safety or of more than brief duration for our national
institutions.

The friends, therefore, of the Union, no less than Mr. Web-

128 CHAPTER V.

ster's personal friends, could not but feel tlie deepest solicitude
in the result of the controversy ; a solicitude amounting at
times almost to despondency. They could hardly believe that
it was in the power of one man, no matter how great his en-
dowments, to roll back the strong current that seemed likely
to overwhelm the ancient landmarks. All portents looked
gloomy, they thought ; darkness and danger were everywhere
around them, and they saw no means of emerging from their
great peril but with great loss and discomfiture.

The night, therefore, came down gloomily and heavily upon
them. They had no pastimes and little sleep that night, and
rose in the early morning, u^nrefreshed and anxious ; deter-
mined, however, with one mind, to resort in good season to
tlte Capitol. • v - ," ;

CHAPTER VI.

When Cineas returned from his mission to Rome, he was
asked by his master Pyrrhus, how the Roman Senate ap-
peared. " Like an assembly of kings," he replied.

The Senate of the United States twenty years ago may not
have presented the grave and majestic character of the Ro-
man Senate. Our Senators wore not the flowing robes, nor
still more flowino; beards of the Conscript Fathers. But it
was composed of men who could have understood Cicero as
well as the audience he addressed, and replied to him better ;
of men, too, not inferior, in physical organization, or intel-
lectual expression, to any Senate Rome ever boasted.

Where, among the most Patrician blood of Rome, could
have been found more intellectual majesty than in the counte-
nances of Webster and Calhoun, more dignity than in their
bearing, more honor than in their character, or more grandeur
than in their eloquence ? In whatever assembly placed, they
would have given to it unrivalled distinction.

Nor were they the sole persons of eminent ability, or dis-
tinguished mien, in the Senate. There were others only less
remarkable for both. The thoughtful eye and expansive

130 CHAPTER vr.

brow of Woodbury, tlie refined, gentlemanly, and expressive
countenance of Forsyth, the gallant air and intellectual fea-
tures of Hayne, the somewhat supercilious hut determined
bearing of Benton, the tall form and marked expression of
Bell, the well-defined and rather majestic lineaments of Clay-
ton— these characteristics, with those of other Senators no less
distinguished, could not fail to convey to the spectator the im-
pression of great intellectual and moral superiority. It was an
assembly to be a member of which might have satisfied the
most high-reaching ambition. It was an assembly the aggre-
gate ability of which, for the number of its members, has pro-
bably never been surpassed, if ecjualled, in any representative
body of the world. ■ • . ' ■.

The very character of the Senate made its members more
eao^er to distin2;uish themselves in it. "Alexander fi^-hts
when he has kings for his competitors." Rivalry, always
natural to the heart, became more emulous, more earnest,
more intense, with such a field for its encouragement and ex-
hibition ; when men were judges of the intellectual strife, who
could themselves have taken an equal part in it, had occasion
demanded. . . .

It was not alone the combined strength of the administra-
tion party in the Senate Mr. "Webster had to fear. He could
not but be in doubt respecting his political allies. The char-
acter of the minority at this time was somewhat anomalous.
It was composed of Federalists of the old school, who had ad-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 131

hered to tlie younger Adams, notwithstanding his gross ter-
giversations ; of those Republicans, who, in the preceding
canvass, from personal or local rather than from political con-
siderations, had preferred Mr. Adams to his competitor ; and
of " National Republicans" so called — a party formed indiffer-
ently of the two others. To make an argument which should
satisfy all without offending either of these classes seemed a
task difficult to be accomplished.

Fortunately for the country and his own fame, his doubts,
on the subject, were removed. His warmest friends urged
with great eagerness uj)on him an unequivocal, unreserved
declaration of his views. None were more trusted, nor es-
teemed by him, than Samuel Bell, then a Senator from
New Hampshire. Originally a Federalist, he had gone over
to the Republican party, early on the accession of Jefferson,
and had supported his administration zealously and efficiently.
He had advocated and defended the war with Great Britain,
and all other measures of the Republican party up to the
Presidential canvass of 1824. On that occasion, as well as
four years later, without any violence, as he supposed, to his
political principles or antecedents, he had favored the preten-
sions of Mr. Adams. From his history, character, and gen-
eral knowledge of persons and measui-es, he was perhaps the
best exponent of the intentions and sentiments of the some-
what mottled party, opposed to the administration of Greneral
Jackson.

So at least Mr. "Webster thought ; and on the morning of

132 CHAPTER VI.

the speech, after he had gone to the Capitol, he called Mr. Bell
into the robing-room of the Senate, and told him his difficulty.
" You know, Mr. Bell," said he, " my constitutional opinions.
There are, among my friends in the Senate, some who may
not concur in them. What is expedient to he done .^" Mr
Bell, with great emphasis of manner, adyissd him to speak out,
boldly and fully, his thoughts upon the subject. " It is a
critical moment," said he, " and it is time, it is high time the
people of this country should know what this Constitution is."
" Then," replied Mr. Webster, " by the blessing of heaven,
they shall learn, this day, before the sun goes down, what I
understand it to be." i >. '^ ... . .y^

It was on Tuesday, January the 26th, 1830, — a day to be
hereafter forever memorable in Senatorial annals, — that the
Senate resumed the consideration of Foote's Kesolution.
There never was before, in the city, an occasion of so much
excitement. To witness this great intellectual contest, multi-
tudes of strangers had for two or three days previous been
rushing into the city, and the hotels overflowed. As early as
9 o'clock of this morning, crowds poured into the Capitol, in
hot haste ; at 12 o'clock, the hour of meeting, the Senate-
Chamber, — its galleries, floor and even 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 Kepresentatives was early deserted. An
adjournment would have hardly made it emptier. Tho
Speaker, it is true, retained his chair, but no busineBS of mo-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 133

m^tii was, \A coald be, attended to. Members all rusted in
to hear Mr- Wobs^cr, and no call of the House or other Par-
liamentary procee(2ings could compel them back. The floor
of the Senate was so densely crowded, that persons once in
could not get out, nor change their position ; in the rear of
the Yice-Presidential chair, the crowd was particularly in-
tense. Dixon H. Lewis, then a Representative from Ala-
bama, became wedged in here. From his enormous size, it
was impossible for him to move without displacing a vast
portion of the multitude. Unfortunately too, for him, he was
jammed in directly behind the chair of the Yice-President,
where he could not see, and hardly hear, the speaker. By
slow and laborious effort — pausing occasionally to breathe — he
gained one of the windows, which, constructed of painted glass,
flank the chair of the Vice-President on either side. Here
he paused, unable to make more headway. But determined
to see Mr. Webster as he spoke, with his knife he made a
large hole in one of the panes of the glass ; which is still
visible as he made it. Many were so placed, as not to be
able to see the speaker at all.

The courtesy of Senators accorded to the fairer sex room
on the floor — the most gallant of them, their own seats. The
gay bonnets and brilliant dresses threw a varied and pictur-
esque beauty over the scene, softening and embellishing it.

Seldom, if ever, has speaker in this or any other country
Lad more powerful incentives to exertion ; a subject, the de-
termination of which involved the most important interests,

131 CHAPTER VI.

and even duration, of tlie republic ; competitors, unequalled
in reputation, ability, or position ; a name to make still more
glorious, or lose forever ; and an audience, comprising not only
persons of this country most eminent in intellectual greatness,
but representatives of other nations, wbere the art of elo-
quence had flourished for ages. All the soldier seeks in op-
portunity was here. '

Mr. AYebster perceived, and felt equal to, the destinies of
the moment. The very greatness of the hazard exhilarated
him. His spirits rose 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 smell-
eth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains and the
shouting." - /" . -.'-■-. '•- ■

A confidence in his own resources, springing from no vain
estimate of his power, but the legitimate offspring of previous
severe mental discipline sustained and excited him. He had
guaged 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 develop-
ment. Whatever there was in him of intellectual energy and
vitality, the occasion, his full life and high ambition, might
well brino; forth

DANIEL WEBSTER. 135

He never rose on an ordinary occasion to address an ordi-
nary audience more self-possessed. There was no tremnloiis-
ness in his voice nor manner ; nothing hurried, nothing simu-
lated. The calmness of superior strength was visible every-
where ; 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 anticipa-
tion of victory.

The anxiety to hear the speech was so intense, irrepressible,
and universal, that no sooner had the Yice-President assumed
the chair, than a motion was made and unanimously carried,
to postpone the ordinary preliminaries of Senatorial action,
and to take up immediately the consideration of the resolu-
tion. . ~~

Mr. Webster rose and addressed the Senate. His exordium
is known by heart, everywhere : " Mr. President, when the
mariner has been tossed, 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 pru-
dence ; and before we float further, on the waves of this de-
bate, refer to the point from which we departed, that we may,

136 CHAPTER VI.

at least, he able to form some conjecture wtere we now are,
I ask for tlie reading of the resolution."

There wanted no more to enchain the attention. There
was a spontaneous, though silent, expression of eager appro-
bation, as the orator concluded these opening remarks. And
while the clerk read the resolution, many attempted the im-
possibility of getting nearer the speaker. Every head was
inclined closer towards him, every ear turned in the direction
of his voice — and that deep, sudden, mysterious silence fol-
lowed, which always attends fulness of emotion. From the
sea of UDturned faces before him, the orator beheld his
thoughts reflected as from a mirror. The varying counte-
nance, the suffused eye, the earnest smile, and ever-attentive
look assured him of his audience's entire sympathy. If among
his hearers there were those who affected at first an indiffer-
ence to his glowing thoughts and fervent periods, the difficult
mask was soon laid aside, and profound, undisguised, devoted
attention followed. In the earlier part of his speech, one of
his principal opponents seemed deeply engrossed in the care-
ful perusal of a newspaper he held before his face ; but this,
on nearer approach, proved to be iijpside down. In truth, all,
sooner or later, voluntarily, or in spite of themselves, were
wholly carried away by the eloquence of the orator.

One of the happiest retorts ever made in a forensic contro-
versy was his application of Hayne's comparison of the ghost
(Df the " murdered coalition" to the ghost of Banquo :

" Sir, the honorable member was not, for other reasons, en-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 137

tirelj baippy in his allusions to the story of Banquo's murder,
and Banquo's ghost. It was not, I think, the friends, bub
the enemies of the murdered Banquo, at whose bidding his
spirit would not down. The honorable gentleman is fresh in
his reading of the English classics, and can put me right if I
am wi"ong ; but, according to my poor recollection, it was at
those who had begun with caresses, and ended with foul and
treacherous murder, that the gory locks were shaken ! The
ghost of Banquo, like that of Hamlet was, an honest ghost. It
disturbed no innocent man. It knew where its appearance
would strike terror, and who would cry out, a ghost ! It
made itself visible in the right quarter, and compelled the
guilty, and the conscience-smitten, and none others, to start,
with,

" ' Pr'ythee, see there ! tehold ! look ! lo,
If I stand here, I saw liim !'

Their eyeballs were scared (was it not so, sir .^) who had

thought to shield themselves, by concealing their own hand,

and laying the imputation of the crime on a low and hireling

ao-ency in wickedness ; who had vainly attempted to stifle the

workings of their own coward consciences, by ejaculating,

through white lips and chattering teeth, '' Thou canst not say

I did it !" I have misread the great poet if those who had no

way partaken in the deed of death, either found that they were,

or feared that they should Z/e, pushed from their stools by the

ghost of the slain, or exclauned, to a spectre created by their
7

138 CHAPTER VI..

own fears, and their own remorse, " Avaunt ! and quit our
sight !"

There was a smile of appreciation upon the faces all aronnd,
at this most felicitous use of another's illustration — this turn-
ing one's own witness against him — in which Col. Hajne good
humoredly joined.

As the orator carried out the moral of Macbeth, and proved
by the example of that deep-thinking, intellectual, but insane-
ly-ambitious character, how little of substantial good or perma-
nent power was to be secured by a devious and unblessed
policy, he turned his eye with a significance of expression, full
of prophetic revelation upon the Vice-President, reminding
him that those who had foully removed Banquo had placed

" A barren sceptre in their gripe,
Thence to be ivrcnchcd by an unlineal hand,
No son of theirs succeeding.''^

Every eye of the whole audience followed the direction of his
own — and witnessed the changing countenance and visible
agitation of Mr. Calhoun. _ ^

Surely, no prediction ever met a more rapid or fuller con-
firmation, even to the very manner in which the disaster was
accomplished. Within a few brief months, the political for-
tunes of the Yice-President, at this moment seemingly on the
very point of culmination, had sunk so low, there were none
so poor to do him reverence.

Whether for a moment a presentiment of the approaching
crisis in his fate, forced upon his mind by the manner and

DANIEL WEBSTER. - 131

language of tlie speaker, cast a gloom over his countenance
or some other cause, it is impossible to say ; but his brow grev\
dark, nor for some time did his features recover their usual
impassibility.

The allusion nettled him, — the more as he could not hi\\
witness the effect it produced upon others — and made him
restless. He seemed to seek an opportunity to break in upon
the speaker ; and later in the day, as Mr. "Webster was expos-
ing the gross and ludicrous inconsistencies of South Carolina
politicians, upon the subject of Internal Improvements, he
interrupted him with some eagerness : " Does the chair under-
stand the gentleman from Massachusetts to say that the per-
son now occupying the chair of the Senate has changed his
oiDinions on this subject .?" To this, Mr. Webster replied
immediately, and good-naturedly : " From nothing ever said
to me, sir, have I had reason to know of any change in the
opinions of the person filling the chair of the Senate. If such
change has taken place, I regret it."*

* Mr. Calhoun's interruption was un-Parliamentary, or rather, un-
Senatorial. The Vice-President is not a member of the Senate, and has
no voice in it save for the preservation of order and enforcement of tlie
rules. He cannot participate otherwise either in the debates or proceed-
ings. He is simply the presiding officer of the Senate — having no vote
in its affairs save on a tie. Had Mr. Webster made a direct, unmistake-
able allusion to him, Mr. Calhoun still could have replied through jj
friendly Senator, or the press. On this occasion he was too much ex-
cited to attend to the etiquette of his position. His feelings and his in-
terest in the question maiie him forgetful of his duty.

140 : CHAPTER VI.

Those who had doubted Mr. "Webster's ability to cope with
and overcome his opponents were fully sitisfied of their error
before he had proceeded far in his speech. Their fears soon
took another direction. When they heard his sentences of
powerful thought, towering in accumulative grandeur, one
above the other, as if the orator strove, Titan-like, to reach
the very heavens themselves, they were giddy with an appre-
hension that he would break down in his flight. They dared
not believe, that genius, learning, any intellectual endow-
ment however uncommon, that was simply mortal, could sus-
tain itself long in a career seemingly so perilous. They
feared an Icarian fall. . —

Ah ! who can ever forget, that was present to hear, the
tremendous, the awful burst of eloquence with which the
orator spoke of the Old Bay State ! or the tones of deep
pathos in which the words were 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

Sometime later than this, after a rupture had taken place between
Gen. Jackson and himself, Mr. Forsyth, of Georgia, on being interrupted
by some (as he thought) uncalled for question or remark, rebuked him
in an emphatic manner foj violation of official etiquette. Mr, Van Buren,
•who ovisted and succeeded him, always remained silent, placid, imper-
turbable in his seat, however personal or severe the attack upon him ,—
and no Vice-President since ids day has ever attempted tomtertisre witij
the discussions of the Senate,

DANIEL WEBSTER. 141

Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill — and there they
will remain forever. The hones 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 lie 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 what-
ever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who gather
round it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the
proudest monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot of
its origin."

What New England heart was there but throbbed with
vehement, tumultuous, irrepressible emotion, as he 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 evidences of their
emotion.*

* Gen. Washington said that the New England troops came bettd

142 CHAPTER TI

In one corner of the gallery was clustered a group of
Massachusetts men. They had hung from the first moment
upon the words of the speaker, with feelings variously hut
always warmly excited, deepening in intensity as he proceeded.
A-t first, while the orator was going through his exordium,
they held their breath and hid their faces, mindful of the
ravage attack upon him and New England, and the fearful
odds against him, her champion ; — as he went deeper into his
speech, they felt easier ; when he turned Hayne's flank on
Banquo's ghost, they breathed freer and deeper. But now,
as he alluded to Massachusetts, their feelings were strained to
the highest tension ; and when the orator, concluding his
encomium upon the land of their birth, turned, intentionally,
or otherwise, his burning eye full upon them — they shed tears
like girls ! - - > : ■ ,

No one who was not present can understand the excitement
of the scene. No one, who was, can give an adequate de-
scrij)tion of it. No word-painting can convey the deep,
intense enthusiasm, — the reverential attention, of that vast
assembly — nor limner transfer to canvass their earnest, eager,
awe-struck countenances. Thouo-li lang-uao-e were as subtile
and flexible as thought, it still would be impossible to repre-
sent the full idea of the scene. There is something intangible
in an emotion, which cannot be transferred. The nicer
shades of feeling elude pursuit. Every description, therefore,

clothed into the field, were as orderly there, and longht as well, if not
better, than any troops on the continent.

DANIEL WEBSTER. - 143

of the occasion, seoms to the narrator himself most tamo,
spiritlesSj unjust.

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 that calls them forth — the impression is lost in the
attempt at transmission from one mind to another. They can
only he described in general terms. " Of the effectiveness of
Mr. Webster's manner, in many parts," says Mr. Everett,
" 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

=!^ The personal appearance of Mr. Webster has been a theme of
frequent discussion. He was at the time this speech was delivered
twenty j'ears younger than now. Time had not thinned nor bleached
his hair : it was as dark as the raven's plumage, surmounting his mas-
sive brow in ample folds. His eye, always dark and deep-set, enkindled
by some glowing thought, shone from beneath his sombre, overhanging
brow like lights, in the blackness of night, from a sepulchre. It was
such a countenance as Salvator Rosa delighted to paint.

No one understood, or understands, 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 appearf}d
m a blue coat and buff vest, — the Revolutionary colors of buff and
Dlue ; — with a white cravat ; — a costume, than which none is more
becoming to his face and expression. This courtly particularity of
iress adds no little to the influence of his manner and appearance.

144 CHAPTER vr.

so completely realized my conception of wliat Demostlienes
was when lie delivered the Oration for the Crown."

Assuredly, Kean nor Kemhlej nor any other masterly
delineator of the human passions ever produced a more
powerful impression upon an audience, or swayed so completely
their hearts. This was acting^ — not to the life, — hut life
itself.

No one ever looked the orator, as he did — " 05 hiimerosque
deo similis,'^'' in form and feature how like a god. Ills
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 !

The human face never wore an expression of more wither-
ing, relentless scorn, than when the orator replied to Hayne's
allusion to the " murdered coalition." " It is," said Mr.
W., "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 attempt-
ing 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 to the place where
it lies itself." He looked, as he spoke these words, as if the

DANIEL WEBSTER. 145

thinff lie alluded to was too mean for scorn itself — and tlie
sharp, stinging enunciation made the words still more withcr-
ino;. The audience seemed relieved, — so crushinoj was the
expression of his face which they held on to, as 'twere, spell-
bound,— when he turned to other topics.

The good-natured yet provoking irony with which he
described the imaginary though life-like scene of direct
collision between the marshalled array of South Carolina
under Gen. Hayne on the one side, and the officers of the
United States on the other, nettled his opponent even more
than his severer satire ; it seemed so ridiculously true. Col.
Playne enquired, with some degree of emotion, if the gentle-
man 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 expect-
ation, and ceaseless agitation. There was no chord of the
heart the orator did not strike, as with a master-hand. The
speech was a complete drama of comic and pathetic scenes ;
one varied excitement ; laughter and tears gaining alternate
victory.

A great portion of the speech is strictly argumentative ; an
exposition of constitutional law. But grave as such portion
necessarily is, severely logical, abounding in no fancy or
episode, it engrossed throughout the undivided attention of
every intelligent hearer. Al^stractions, under the glowing

146 CHAPTER IV.

4

genius of tbe orator, acquired a beauty, a yitality, a power to
tlirill the blood and enkindle the affections, awakening into
earnest activity many a dormant faculty. His ponderous
syllables had an energy, a vehemence of meaning in them
that fascinated, while they startled. His thoughts in their
statuesque beauty merely would have gained all critical
judgment ; but he realized the antique fable, and warmed the
marble into life. There was a sense of power in his language, —
of power withheld and suggestive of still greater power, — that
subdued, as by a spell of mystery, the hearts of all. For
power, whether intellectual or physical, produces in its earnest
development a feeling closely allied to awe. It was never
more felt than on this occasion. It had entire mastery. The
sex, which is said to love it best and abuse it most, seemed as
much or more carried away than the sterner one. Many who
had entered the hall with light, gay thoughts, anticipating at
most a pleasurable excitement, soon became deeply interested
in the speaker and his subject — surrendered him their entire
heart ; and, when the speech was over, and they left the hall,
it was with sadder perhaps, but, surely, with far more elevated
and ennobling emotions.

The exulting rush of feeling with which he went through
the peroration threw a glow over his countenance, like inspi-
ration. Eye, brow, each feature, every line of the face
seemed touched, as with a celestial fire. All gazed as at
something more than human. So Moses might have appeared
to the awe-struck Israelites as he emerged from the dark

DANIEL WEL5TER. 147

clouds and tliick smoke of Sinai, his f^ico all radiant "with tlie
breath of divinity !

The swell and roll of his voice struck upon the ears of the
spell-bound audience, in deep and melodious cadence, as
waves upon the shore of the " far-resounding" sea. The
Miltonic grandeur of his words was the fit expression of his
thought and raised his hearers up to his theme. His voice,
exerted to its utmost power, penetrated every recess or corner
of the Senate — penetrated even the ante-rooms and stairways,
as he pronounced in deepest tones of j)athos 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,*

* ]Mr. Webster may have had in liis mind, when speaking of tha
gorgeous ensign of the Republic, Milton's description of the imperial
banner in the lower regions, floating across the immensity of space :

"Who forthwith from the glittering stafi" unfurl' d
The imperial ensign ; which, full high advanced
Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind,
With gems and golden lustre rich imblaz'd,

- Serapliic arms and trophies ; all the while |

■' Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds :"

148 CHAPTER vr.

its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a
stripe erased nor polluted, not a single star obscured, hearing
for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, " What is all
this worth?" Nor those other words of delusion and folly,
Liberty first and Union afterwards ; but everywhere, spread
all over in characters of living light, blazing on all 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 upon the ear, and the audience, unconscious of the
close, retained their positions. The agitated countenance, the
heaving breast, the suffused eye attested the continued influ-
ence of the spell upon them. Hands that in the excitement
of the moment had sought each other, still remained closed
in an unconscious grasp. Eye still turned to eye, to receive
and repay mutual sympathy ; — and everywhere around seemed
forgetfulness of all but the orator's presence and words.

When the Vice-President, hastening to dissolve the spell,
angrily called to order ! order ! There never was a deeper
stillness — not a movement, not a gesture had been made, — ■
not a whisper uttered — order ! Silence could almost have

And this in its turn is borrowed from, or suggested by, Tasso's description
of the banner of the Crusades, when first unfolded in Palestine — which
the inquisitive reader may find, if he choose, in " Jerusalem Delivered."

DANIEL WEBSTER. 149

heard Itself, it was so supernaturdlj still. The feeling was
too overpowering, to allow expression, by yoice or hand. It
was as if one was in a trance, all motion paralyzed.

But the descending hammer of the Chair awoke them, with
a start — and with one universal, long-drawn, deep breath,
with which the overcharged heart seeks relief, — the crowded
assembly broke up and departed.

The New-England men walked down Pennsylvania avenue
that day, after the speech, with a firmer step and bolder air—
" pride in their port, defiance in their eye." You would have
sworn they had grown some inches taller in a few hours'
time. They devoured the way, in their stride. They looked
every one in the face they met, fearing no contradiction .
They swarmed in the streets, having become miraculously
multitudinous. They clustered in parties, and fought the
scene over one hundred times that nis^ht. Their elation was
the greater, by reaction. It knew no limits, or choice of
expression. Not one of them but felt he had gained a
personal victory. Not one, who was not ready to exclaim,
with gushing eyes, in the fulness of gratitude, " Thank God,
I too am a Yankee !"

In the evenino; General Jackson held a levee at the White

House. It was known, in advance, that Mr. Webster would

•attend it, and hardly had the hospitable dciors of the house

been thrown open, when the crowd that had filled the Senate-

chamber in the morning rushed in and occupied the rooms.

J 50 CHAPTER vr.

Persons a little more tardy in arriving found it almost impoS'
sible to get in, sucli a crowd oppressed the entrance.

Before this evening, the General had been the observed of
all observers. His military and personal reputation, official
position, gallant bearing, and courteous manners, had secured
him great and merited popularity. His receptions were
always gladly attended by largo numbers — to whom he was
himself the object of attraction.

But on this occasion, the room in which he received his
company was deserted, as soon as courtesy to the President
permitted. Mr. Webster, it was whispered, was in the East
Room, and thither the whole mass hurried.

He stood almost in the centre of the room, hemmed in by
eager crowds, fi-om whom there was no escape, all pressing to
get nearer to him. He seemed but little exhausted by the
intellectual exertion of the day, severe as it had been. The
flush of excitement still lingered and played upon his counte-
nance, gilding and beautifying it, like the setting sun itt.
accompanying clouds.

All were eager to get a sight at him. Some stood on tip-
toe, and some even mounted the chairs of the room. Many
were presented to him. The dense crowd, entering and
retiring, moved round him, renewing the order of their
ingression and egression, continually. One would ask his
neighbor : " Where, which is Webster .^" — " There, don't
you see him — that dark, swarthy man, with a great deep eye

DANIEL WEBSTER. 151

and heavy brow — that's Webster." No one was obliged to
make a second inquiry.

In another part of the room was Col. Hayne. He, too,
had had his day of triumph, and received congratulations.
His friends even now contended that the contest was but a
drawn-battle, no full victory having been achieved on either
side. There was nothing in his own appearance this evening
to indicate the mortification of defeat. With others, he wont
up and complimented jMr. Webster on his brilliant effort 5* and
no one, ignorant of the past struggle, could have supposed
that they had late been engaged in such fierce rivalry.

* It "w^as said at the time, that, as Col. Hayne approached Mr.
Webster to tender his congratulations, the latter accosted him with the
usual courtesy, " How are you, this evening, Col. Hayne ?"' and that
Col. Hayj^ repIW, good-humoredly, '* None the better for you, sirf

CHAPTEK VII.

v

Colonel Hayne occupied himself diligently in taking
notes wliile Mr. Webster spoke, and replied, in a speeck of
about half an hour, to Mr. Webster's constitutional opinions-
The speech reported contained a great deal more than the one
delivered ; the great importance of the question making it de-
sirable, in Colonel Hayne's opinion, that arguments should
be supplied, which he had been obliged, from want of time, to
omit in the debate.

Mr. Webster immediately rci^lied in a summary re-state-
ment of his argument ; " of which the parallel, says Mr.
Everett, "as a comj)act piece of reasoning, will not readily be
found." Mr. Adams 23ronounced it even superior to the one
that preceded it. It fills less than three pages of the Con-
gressional Debates, while Hayne's, to which it was a reply,
occupies nineteen.

The manner in which the Great Speech, as the second in
point of time is called, to distinguish it from the one thai
preceded and the one that followed it, came before the public
it may not be uninteresting to know. Mr. Clayton, of Dela
ware, and Judge Burnett, of Ohio, — then Senators, — calletl

DANIEL WEBSTER. 153

the morning of the speech ii^Don Mr. Gales, the senior editor
of the National Intelligencer^ and at that time Mayor of the
city of Washington, and requested him to undertake the re-
porting of the speech. Mr. Gales was known to be one of the
best writers of the Eno-lish lansruao-e connected with our na-
tional literature, and more capable than almost any one else,
of understanding and recording the peculiar merits of Mr.
"Webster's style. Notwithstanding the engrossing nature of
his avocations, he assented to the request. He made a steno-
graphic report of the sj>eech, which Mrs. Gales wrote out at
large. Her copy was sent to Mr. Webster, and by him re-
vised the same evening.

The demand for the speech was immense. The National
Intelligencer of May, 1830, said — " The demand for copies of
Mr. Webster's speech in what has been called the Great De-
bate in the Senate, has been unprecedented. We are just
completing an edidon of 20,000 copies, which, added to
former editions, will make an aoweorate of nearly 40.000 copies
that have been printed at this office alone."

Pamphlet editions too were struck oif in thousands ; not ia
Washington alone, but elsewhere. A very large edition was
printed in Boston, containino; Colonel Hayne's speech also.
A proposal was made to the friends of Colonel Hayne to pub-
lish a joint edition for distribution throughout the country ;
this liberal offer was however declined on their part.

Never before, in this or any other country, did any speech
gain such rapid and general circulation.

154 CHAPTER vir.

The debate still continued after tlic conclusion of tlio con-
test between Mr. Webster and Colonel liaynej for weeks and
even months. Commencing early in January, it dragged on,
with fitful interruptions, till the 21st of May, on which day
Colonel Benton, who had in truth provoked it, brought it to a
close. The excitement gradually subsided, till, towards the
end of the debate, the speakers addressed " empty boxes."
Benton, Woodbury, Grundy, Rowan and Livingston, each
attempted, more or less creditably, a reply to Mr. Webster's
positions. But their eloquence seemed cold, their arguments
ineffective, after Mr. Webster's ; spectators became indif-
ferent—

" As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well -graced actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to he tedious."

The United Slates Tehgrayhj Mr. Calhoun's putative
organ, in speaking of " the Grreat Debate in the Senate," said
in the paper of the 8th of February — " The importance of
this debate must be apparent to all. It is deeply felt here.
The Senators who have spoken, and those who will speak, dis-
charge a great and sacred duty to their country. It is not a
holiday debate, but a real and eventful contest for the
safety of the States, and the counteraction of the most
daring schemes for the recovery of lost power, that our coun-
try has ever witnessed. Mr. Webster has brought it forward,
but he lacks coiLvage to breast the storm which he has ex-

DANIEL WEBSTER. ■ 155

cited. He has not been seen in tlie Senate since, except to
vote for his party. He depends upon his speech, which is to
go forth, North and West, to rally all that can he collected in
the crusade against the States, against the South, and against
the present administration. It must not go forth unanswered,
and it will not."

The answers came, " thick as autumnal leaves that strew
the brooks in Yallambrosa ;" and as rapidly disappeared. Few
even of well-informed politicians have read them ; while, to
the general student, they are mostly wholly unknown. Not
that they were without talent ; some possessed far more than
ordinary ability, but they have all been forgotten in the supe-
rior interest excited by Mr. Webster's effort.

Mr. Woodbury's speech, as an argument, perhaps, followed
Colonel Hayne's in ability. He took care to avoid, with the
sagacity that distinguishes his character, the extreme doctrine
of his southern ally. He would not acknowledge the consti-
tutional right of a State to prevent the execution of a law of
the United States believed by such State to be unconstitu-
tional, but referred opposition to the inalienable right of re-
sistance to oppression. In truth, he diverged but little from
the line of argument adopted by Mr. Webster.

His speech was grateful to the juste milieu of the Demo-
cratic party in the Senate and the country. It also particu-
larly pleased the distinguished Senator from Missouri. When
Mr. Woodbury had concluded. Colonel Benton rose, and ex-
tending his right hand over the head of the Granite Senator,

156 CHAPTER vrr.

mucli like a pope or cardinal pronouncing benediction, ex-
claimed in a loud voice — " Yes, this is Peter, and this Peter
is the rock on which the church of New-England democracy
shall be built ;'' and then added in a low tone, not supposed
to be intended for the hearing of the Senate — " and the gates
of Hell shall not prevail against him."

Such things as this give a relief to the grave and solemn
proceedings of the august Senate. - ■ _ -^

Col. Benton himself spoke four days. He did not go into
an elaborate argument upon the relative powers of the States
and the Federal Government* — in which his success pro-

^ Col. Benton, however, gave the Senate liis opinion upon the sub-
ject which coincided too nearly witli Mr. Hayne's ; the best answer to
it is to be found in his own words, as spoken in the Senate of the United
States, on the third day of January last. Speaking of his constituents,
he says : " They abide the law when it comes, be it what it may, sub-
ject to the decision of the ballot-box and the judiciary.

" I concur with the people of Missouri in this view of their duty, and
believe it to be the only course consistent with the terms and intentions
of our Constitution, and the only one M^hich can save this Union from
the fate of all the confederacies which have successively appeared and
disappeared in the history of nations. Anarchy among the members
and not tyranny in the head, has been the rock on which all such con-
federacies have split. The authors of our present form of government
knew the danger of this rock, and they endeavored to provide against it.
They formed a union — not a league — a Federal Legislature to act upon
persons, not upon States ; and they provided peaceful remedies for all
the questions which could arise between the people and the government.
They provided a federal judiciary to execute the federal laws whec

DANIEL WEBSTEPv. 157

bably would have been fully ecpal to that of Col. Hajne or
Mr. Woodbui-y — but rather indulged the Senate with a his-
tory of parties during the late war with Great Britain, and
also with a review of the action of Congress upon the subject
of the public lands. His speech for one so long and various
was not uninteresting. '

Something perhaps should be said of the person who, igno-
rant of its explosive qualities, threw this bomb into the Senate.
No man assuredly ever achieved immortality easier than
Mr. Foote, of Conn. As the author of the Resolution, he will
g-o down to the latest posterity, while the names of many who
shared in the debate will be lost in the early part of the
journey ; are indeed even now almost forgotten.

He was a man no otherwise distinguished, and perhaps in-
found to he constitutional, and popular elections to repeal them when
found to be bad. They formed a government in which the law and
popular will, and not the sword, was to decide questions ; emd they
looked upon the first resort to the sword for the decision of such ques-
tions as the death of the Union. The old confederation was a league,
with a legislature acting upon sovereignties, without power to enforce
its decrees, and without union except at the will of the parties. It
was powerless for government and a rope of sand for union. It was to
escape from that helpless and tottering government that the present
Constitution was formed."

Such a full recantation of political heresy required a degree of magna
nimity and moral courage seldom found. Any man may commit errors
— ^but few, like the distinguished Senator from Missouri, have the hardi-
hood to acknowledge and the manliness to correct them.

758 CHAPTER vir.

capable of any particular distinction. Amiable in private life,
respectable but never eminent in public, of no ill-regulated
ambition, nor eccentric vanity, lie was one of the last to have
been suspected of designing to give character or intellectual
vitality to thought or action. And surely no man was more
surprised than himself at the formidable consequences of his
innocent act. What he had proposed as a harmless enquiry
became through the agency of others the immediate cause of
an animated, fiery discussion ; in which personalities were
given and retorted ; provocations maliciously put forth, and
indignantly thrown back ; and argument the most profound,
eloquence the most impassioned, embodied in language the
itiost chaste and sublime, involved in the discussion of the most
momentous interests. He was the most confounded at his
own importance. To use the language of Sir "Walter Scott, he
felt " the terrors of a child, who has, in heedless sport, put
in motion some powerful piece of machinery ; and while he
beholds wheels revolving, chains clashing, cylinders rolling
around him, is equally astonished at the tremendous powers
which his weak agency has called into action, and terrified for
the consequences which he is compelled to await without the
possibility of averting them." But it must not be inferred
from the mention of no other name, that Mr. Webster alone
of the -Opposition Senators participated in this debate. Such
an opinion would do injustice to the history of the afi'air.
Messrs. Sprague and Holmes, of Maine, Barton, of Missouri,
Johnston, of La., Clayton of Delaware, and Bobbins, of Bhode

DANIEL WEI3STEK. 159

Island, with others, made speeclies, and good speeclies. Mr.
Clayton made a most able argument, full of historical research,
upon the various duties and powers of the co-ordinate branches
of the Government.

Barton, of Missouri, severely castigated his colleague, fill-
ing the part In the drama declined by Mr. Webster. He was
a man, like Swift, of coarse invective, and coarser humor.
Equal to Randolph in bitterness, he excelled even that dreaded
satirist in personal vituperation. Of an original and eccentric
mind, a rapid though not profoimd thinker, his speeches often
produced an effect, more than proportioned, perhaps, to their
intrinsic merit.

While he was speaking on this occasion, the Vice-President
called him to order, for using '' expressions inadmissible in a
deliberative body." Circumstances, it is said, alter cases.
When John Randolph, a few years previous, was transgress-
ing not merely the rules of debate but of courtesy, in calling
the President a Puritan, and the Secretary of State a black-
leg, Mr. Calhoun refused to call him to order, on the ground
that it was his sole office to preside over the deliberations of
the Senate, and not to keep order in it. Mr. Barton, how-
ever, could now be reprimanded though much less gnilty.

Mr. Sprague, of Maine, made an excellent speech in de-
fence of New England, temperate and conclusive. Other
Senators of the anti-Jackson party distinguished themselves
more or less in the debate. Some, who did not speak, re-
frained, not through lack of ability, but from a conviction that

IGO CHAPTER vir.

the occasion did not need their voices. Cliam"bers, of Maryland,^
Burnett, of Oliio, Seymour, of. Yt., and Buggies, of Ohio,
were equal to any forensic combat. These and others formed
a corps du reserve^ which could have been brought up, when
ever the nature of the contest seemed to require their aid.

In speaking of the political and personal friends of Mr.
Webster on this occasion, it would be injustice to make no al-
lusion to Mr. Silsbee, of Mass. His position as colleague of Mrc
Webster, — the intimacy that subsisted between them, — his cha-
racter, ability, and influence in the Senate provoke and justify
the mention of his name. In this important crisis, he stood
manfully by his colleague, gave him advice, aid and sympathy,
wholly and devotedly. "What the sympathy of an earnest, ar-
dentj capable and experienced friend is worth they can only
tell, who have been in exio-encies to require it.

Mr. Webster and Mr. Silsbee were colleagues other than in
position. They did not represent Massachusetts merely, but
the same liberal ideas and principles. Harmonious in senti-
ment as in action, they consulted together under no restriction
of official etiquette, but freely, frankly, fraternally. It was of
much advantage to Mr. Webster, to be able to lean upon such
a man, in such an emergency ; to feel sure of warm sympathy,
unbounded friendship, and untiring zeal, while he battled
against such odds, for reputation and political existence.

There was no envy in Mr. Silsbee ; no malice ; no jealous
repining at another's superiority. His colleague, he knew,
towered above him, and overshadowed him. But he was not

DANIEL VvEBSTER. 161

one of the sickly plants that languish in the shade. He had
inherent vitality enough, constitutional vigor enough, to live,
and grow strong and vigorous, without incessant sunshine.

The profession to which he was educated did not insist upon his
being an orator. And yet few, trained to forensic pursuits, knew
better to express their meaning ; or could reach, by shorter
path, the understanding of their auditors, and gain so entirely
their convictions. The sincerity of his purpose gave force and
transparency to his language. No man in the Senate enjoyed,
or deserved, more respect.

Mr. "Webster was not only assailed in the Senate by the chiefs
of the administration party, but by the democratic press, gener-
ally throughout the country. The metropolitan newspaper, —
the Z7. S, Telegrap/i^ — whose editor was printer to the Senate,
attacked him with relentless malice. This kind of assault
troubled him most, as he had no means of meeting or repelling
it. Some action in the matter, however, he thought demand-
ed by his position as Senator, and that of the editor as an oS-
cer of the Senate. Accordingly, on the 2Sth of January he
rose in his seat in the Senate and said : " A newspaper has
been put into my hands this morning, purporting to be print-
ed and published in this city by Duff Grreen, who is printer to
the Senate. In this, I find an article referring to the debate
in the Senate yesterday ; and in that article, among other
Etatements equally false, it is said, that Mr. Webster contend-
ed that ' the National Government was estabEshed by the peo-

162 CHAPTER VII.

pie, wKo had imparted to it unlimited powers over the States
and Constitution.' ," -

" I am of opinion that we ought to leave our seats alto-
gether, or protect ourselves from atrocious and wilful calum-
nies, committed by persons who are admitted on this floor, and
receive from our hands large disbursements of public money.
It becomes us to yield our places here to men of better spirit
and go home, or show that we are not to be bullied or slander-
ed out of a free and full exercise of our functions."

He then gave notice that on a similar occurrence of a simi-
lar offence, he should make a specinc motion.

His opp)onents finding where they could assail him with the
most injury to him and impunity to themselves reiterated the
charges against him, in the Telegraph, with additional viru-
lence. Mr. Webster, in consequence, submitted the following
resolution to the Senate : '^ Resolved^ Tha-t the Senate will on
the fourth day of February next proceed to the choice of a
printer to the Senate." This resolution, however, he consent-
ed soon after, on the advice of friends, to withdraw ; and no
farther action was had on the matter. - . ^,

If Mr. "Webster needed aught else to satisfy his ambition
than the proud consciousness of having ably discharged his
duty to his country, the warm testimonials of grateful admira-
tion that poured in upon him from the most distinguished in-
dividuals, in every part of the Union, might have been consid-
ered fully sufl&cient. Massachusetts, — to whose name he has

DANIEL WEBSTER. 163

erected a monument no more perishable than her soil, — came
eagerly forward to evince her earnest gratitude. The most
eminent in the State, for piety, learning, or public worth, sent
him letters of thanks for the great service he hud rendered the
State and the Union — " their children's children" — they wrote
— "would bless him, as they did, to the latest posterity."
Resolutions of a majority of both branches of the Legislature,
and of numerous assemblies throughout the State and New
England, all expressive of the deepest gratitude for his success-
ful vindication of the name and character of the State and
New England from undeserved reproach, were forwarded to
him, in due time.

Nor was praise of his effort confined to his State or New
England. It was general, as the service he had performed to
his country. His exposition and defence of the Constitution
drew forth the exj)ression of thanks from every quarter.
" The ability with which the great argument is treated" —
wi'ites the Hon. William Gaston, formerly a distinguished mem-
ber of Congress from North Carolina — " the patriotic fervor
with which the Union is asserted, give you claim to the gratitude
of every one who loves his country and regards the Constitu-
tion as its best hope and surest stay. My engrossing occupa-
tions leave me little leisure for any correspondence except on
business, — but I have resolved to seize a moment to let you
know that with us there is scarcely a division of opinion among
the intelligent portion of the community. All of them, whose
understanding or whose conscience are not surrendered to the

164 CHAPTER vir.

servitude of faction greet your eloquent efforts with unmixed
approbation." ~^ "

" I congratulate you," writes Mr. Clay, " on the very great
addition which you have made, during the session, to your
previous high reputation. Your speeches, and particularly in
reply to Mr. Hayne, are the theme of praise from every tongue
and I have shared in the delight which all have felt."

Commendation of the speech from persons almost equally
distinguished, reached Mr. Webster ; from one, still more so.
Jalies Madison, one of the principal framers of the Consti-
tution, and, in safest opinion, its best interpreter, wrote to a
friend soon after reading this speech, in warm terms of its
ability, its constitutional character, and its " tremendous effect
upon the doctrines of nullification."

There is no such thing as extemporaneous speaking, strictly
considered. No man can address an assembly in language
worthy to be remembered, without some previous study of his
subject. The command of a whole vocabulary will not supply
ideas ; verbal fluency is even dangerous to their proper expres-
sion. We lose the substance in the shadow.

Certainly, therefore, it will not be contended, that Mr.
Webster's entire reply to Col. Hayne was the inspiration of
the moment — that he took no thought, before speech, of what
he should say. Most undoubtedly, some of the important
questions which he discussed on this celebrated occasion had
received, previously, his attention and careful consideration.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 1^5

The Tariff, the Public Lands, and the Constitution, were
matters of a too important character not to demand the recog-
nition and deep study of any statesman.

But of what is generally understood by preparation, Mr.
"Webster had made little : less, perhaps, for an occasion of
equal importance, than any orator of ancient or modern times.
The orators of ■ antiquity, it is well known, elaborated their
sentences no less than their thoughts ; were as anxious about
a phrase as a sentiment ; while those most celebrated of modern
days have been also most distinguished for previous study.
Burke and Canning, more especially, polished and amended,
revised and re-revised, till the original thought was hardly
recognizable in its last dress.

Mr. Webster's hrief on this occasion did not cover one side
-of a sheet of paper, the major part of it being in relation to the
Public Lands ; while the most important topic of the speech,
that which related to the history and interpretation of the
Constitution, was discussed without a single note. A fact that
seems the more remarkable, when it is recollected that Mr.
Webster had never been engaged in the discussion of a Con-
stitutional question at any time in his previous Parliamentary
career. It is true, however, that in his professional life he
had had occasion to examine and argue some important points
of Constitutional Law, as in the Dartmouth College case, and
in the steamboat case of Gihhons vs. Ogdeuj already alluded
to. But these cases, important as they were to the proper
settlement of vexed questions, and involving as they do higK

166 CHAPTER VII.

principles of Constitutional law, did not agitate the delicately-
adjusted political relations between the States and the Federal
Government. This question was first examined in full in this
debate. Undoubtedly, however, Mr. Webster had dwelt upon
it before in his mind ; the whole force and capacity of it were
not opened to him at the moment, like a revelation. He was
full of it, and required no promptings and no guides. The
mind, contend the metaphysicians, alwaj^s thinks; and Mr.
Webster's, more than other men's, may have been exercised
upon such loftythemes as these. - •

No one can read this speech of his in reply to Hayne, or
any or either of his most celebrated productions, without being
reminded of scriptural passages. In truth, no writer or speaker
of any reputation, of the age, is more imbued with the spirit of
Hebrew poetry than Mr. Webster. Those nearest admitted
to his intimacy would be the readiest to bear testimony to his
familiar acquaintance with the literature of the Old Bible.
" The hidden treasure of poetry," (I quote from recollection
merelyj " is the Hebrew books. Few persons remount to the
Bource, to ' Siloa's brook, that flowed fast by the oracle of God.'
There is no writer in any language, ancient or modern, more
poetical than Habakkuk. In the translation, even, he appears
to greater advantage than the heroic poets — than Homer, or
those that followed him. In the vernacular, besides the energy
of the words there is a rythm, a metre, as much as in the Iliad

DjNNIEL WEBSTER, 167

or Eneid. The translation Las not always destroyed it ; as
take, for instance, tlie following lines :

' Although the fig-tree shall not blossom,
Neither shall fruit be in the vines ;
The labor of the olive shall fail,
And the fields shall yield no meat ; '
The flock shall be cut off from the fold.
And there shall be no herd in the stalls :
Yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.'

Here now is a regular equiponderance of sentences till you
get to the last line, which is double. Then what beautiful and
expressive language ! ' The labor of the olive !' In what
other book will you find an expression of like energy and
beauty ? The tree itself is, by a bold metaphor, made to
contribute, spontaneously, to the wants of man, as if it had
thews and muscles, and was capable of action. ^ The field
shall jdeld no meat.' What a stronger impression the word
' meat' conveys, than product, or fruit, or any common term.
It is true — poetical. It at once gives you the idea of all that
maketh glad the heart of man ; and the failure of the fields,
therefore, falls upon the mind with a heavier gloom.

The whole chapter is sublime. I read it often, and each
time with still greater admiration ' The prayer of Habakkuk,'
as it is called."

It would be unfair to Mr. Webster to attempt to give his
language from remembrance. No author, of another tongue,
would suffer more from translation. Some of the strono-est

168 CHAPTER VII.

expressions, no less than nicer shades of sentiment, would bo -
lost in the transmission. He must be heard to be appreciated.

Those admitted to the intimacy of his conversation, can tell
of the eloquent fervor with which he speaks of the inspired
writings — how much light he can throw upon a difficult text — ■
how much beauty lend to expressions that would escape all
but the eye of genius — what new vigor he can give to the most
earnest thoughts — and what elevation to even sublimity. " It
would be impossible," says a distinguished orator from another
section of the country, *' for any one to listen half an hour to
Mr. Webster on the Scriptures, and not believe in their inspi-
ration— or his. '''^ . . ' ,"'■■

But while Mr. Webster's public productions and private
conversations attest how deeply he is imbued with the spirit
of the Scriptures, neither the one nor the other ever contained
the slightest irreverent allusion to any passage in them — any-
thing in the way of illustration, analogy or quotation, that
could seem to question their sanctity. He has been scrupu-
lously delicate in this regard 5 and therein differs widely from
most of his contemporaries in public life on this continent : for
it is made matter of reproach to us, as a nation, that our public
speakers, in Congress particularly, take the grossest liberties
with the most sacred texts of the Scriptures — use them to
garnish the most ordinary topics, or illustrate their own ignoble
pursuits and histories ^ and, in fact, pay them no more regard
than profane books.

It is not so in England. Good taste, if not a religi/*us

DANIEL WEBSTER. 169

eense avoids any sucli irreverence. AVhcn Lord Plunkctt
once, in tlie House of Commons, in speaking of the great an-
ticipations that were entertained of George IV. 's accession to
the throne, alluded to it as the great coming, the members

of the House were shocked, and the speaker felt the rebuke.

8* . ■ •

CHAPTER YIII.

The Bame year in which Mr. Webster gained his forensic
laarvils in the Senate of the United States, secured him
aljo a great professional triumph. All of New England,
ht that time of sufficient age and capacity to have compre-
hended it, will recollect the deep, intense sensation produced
throughout the community that year by the extraordinary mur-
der of Joseph "White, in Salem, Massachusetts, on the night
of the 6th of April. The respectability, wealth, and ad-
vanced age of the murdered man, the mysterious nature of
the midnight murder, the strange and romantic details con-
nected with its perpetration, the relationship of one of the
assassins to the victim, and other circumstances of almost
equal interest, produced an excitement at the timfe, which Avas
as deep as it was general, and which has dwelt upon the mind
ever since with nearly all the distinctness of its first impres-
sion.

A few weeks after the murder, Richard Crowningshield,
Greorge Crowningshield, brothers, Joseph J. Knapp, who had
married a daughter of the neice of the murdered man, and
John Francis Knapp, also brothers, were arrested, on a charge

DANIEL WEBSTER. 171

of having perpetrated tlic miivcler, and committed for trial,
Joseph J. Knapp, soon after his arrest, under promise of
favor from the government, was induced to make a full con-
fession of the crime, and of the circumstances attendinn*; it.
A few days after his disclosure had been made and become
known, llichard Crowningshield, who was supposed to have been
the principal assassin, committed suicide.

By act of the Legislature, a special session of the Supreme
Court v/as holden at Salem, in July, for the trial of the pri-
soners. In the ordinary arrangement of the courts, but one
week in a year, was allotted for the whole court to sit in that
county ; and, as in the trial of all capital offences, a majority
of the court were required to be present, and as weeks would
in all probability be consmned in this trial, but for such inter-
position of the Legislature, three years would not have been
sufficient for the purpose. It was for this reason and not on
account of the excitement in the community, and the interest
felt in the result, that the special session was ordered.

Before this court, John Francis Knapp was arraigned as
principal in the murder, and G-eorge Crowningshield and Jo-
seph J. Knapp, accessories.

If the suicide of Richard Crowningshield before the com-
mencement of the trial, added to the already excited state of the
public feeling, the unexpected withdrawal of his confession by
Joseph J. Knapp, and his refusal, on being called upon, to
testify, had no tendency to allay it.

Mr. Webster, upon the request of the prosecuting officers

172 CHAPTER VIII.

of the government, appeared as counsel and assisted in tlie
trial. , — - -^ ; '

In the earlier part of Hs argument to the jury, Mr. Webster
said — " G-entlemen, this is a most extraordinary case. In
some respects, it has hardly a precedent anywhere ; certainly
none in our New England history . This bloody drama exhi-
bited no suddenly excited ungovernable rage. The actors in
it were not surprised by any lion-like temptation springing
upon their virtue and overcoming it, before resistance could
begin. Nor did they do the deed, to glut savage vengeance,
or satiate long settled and deadly hate. It was a cool, calcu-
lating, money-making murder. It was all ' hire and salary,
not revenge.' It was the weighing of money against life ;
the counting out of so many pieces of silver, against so many
ounces of blood." - - ^ ' . .

In speaking of the supposed self-congratulation of the mur-
derer, as he escapes, unseen by human eye, after the perpe-
tration of the deed, Mr. Webster describes the danger of a
fatal secret in language that makes the reader almost feel the
consciousness of guilt himself. "It is accomplished. The
deed is done. The assassin retreats ; retraces his steps to the-
window, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes.
He has done the murder. No eye has seen him,, no ear hag
heard him. The secret is his own, and it is safe !

" Ah ! gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake. Such a
secret can be safe nowhere. The whole creation of God has
neither nook nor corner where the guilty can bestow it, and

DANIEL WEBSTER. ' 173

saj it is safe. Not to speak of that eye wHch glances throuo-h
all disguises, and beliolds every thing as in the splendor of
noon, such secrets of guilt are never safe from detection, even
by men. True it is, generally sjDeaking, that ' murder will
out.' True it is, that Providence hath so ordained, and doth
so govern things, that those who break the law of heaven, by
shedding man's blood, seldom succeed in avoiding discovery,
A thousand eyes turn at once to explore every man, every thing,
every circumstance, connected with the time and place ; a
thousand ears catch every whisper ; a thousand excited minds
intensely dwell on the scene, shedding all their light, and
ready to kindle the slightest circumstance into a blaze of dis-
covery. Meanwhile the guilty soul cannot keep its own
secret. It is false to itself 5 or rather, it feels an irresistible
impulse of conscience to be true to itself. It labors under its
guilty possession, and knows not what to do with it. The
human heart was not made for the residence of such an in-
habitant. It finds itself preyed upon by a torment w^ich it
does not acknowledge to God nor man. A vulture is devour-
ing it, and it can ask no sympathy or assistance, either from
heaven or earth. The secret which the murderer possesses
soon comes to possess him ; and, like the evil spirits of which
we read, it overcomes him, and leads him whithersoever it
^iH. He feels it beating at his heart, rising to his throat, and
iemanding disclosure. He thinks the whole world sees it in
his face, reads it in bis eyes, and almost hears its workings in
the very silence of his thoughts. It has become his master.

174 CHAPTER viir.

It betrays his discretion, it breaks down bis courage, it con-
quers bis prudence. Wben suspicions, from witbout, begin to
embarrass bim, and the net of circumstance to entangle bim,
tbe fatal secret struggles witb still greater violence to burst
fortb. It must be confessed ; it icill he confessed ; there is no
refuge from confession hut suicide^ and suicide is confession.^''

The great difficulty Mr. Webster bad to surmount in tbe
case was, tbe doubt in tbe minds of tbe jury, tbat John Fran-
cis Knapp was present in tbe vicinity at tbe time of tbe mur-
der, for tbe purpose of aiding and abetting it. Ricbard
Orowningsbield was tbe actual perpetrator of tbe murder ; be
alone entered tbe bouse, and gave tbe old man bis dcatb-
wounds. But, by bis own act, be was placed beyond tbe
reach of an earthly tribunal ; and, unless it was demonstrated
to tbe satisfaction of tbe jury, that, on tbe night of the mur-
der, John Francis Knapp was aiding, in constructive jpresence^
the accomplishment of tbe deed, and thus proved a principal
to it, tbe three prisoners, however guilty in public opinion and
in fact, must have been discharged, since tbe one indicted as
principal being pronounced innocent, tbe accessories coxild not
of course have been convicted.

The admirable ingenuity of argument by which Mr. "Web-
ster led the minds of the jury to this conclusion, is equal to
anything of the kind in tbe annals of the profession. Tbe in-
terpretation be gave to the various and somewhat contradic-
tory evidence upon the subject ; the manner in which he com-
bined circumstances at first seemingly independent, dove -tail-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 175

ing tliem together so that their separation appeared impossible,
and the full solution which he returned to the suggested doubts
of opposite counsel, in regard to identity of person, &c.,
rendered Knapp's guilt, in the opinion of the jury, a matter
not merely of vehement probability, but absolute necessity.

He was convicted, and his associates also. .

The history of the murder is a singular one ; and, were it
not that truth is stranger than fiction, would hardly be credit-
ed in all of its details.

The fii'st conception of the murder arose, it is said, from
the conversation and character of the victim. The idea of
murder was not native to those who plotted it ; but from their
education, position, and associations, was abhorrent to their
minds. They had led somewhat extravagant and reckless
lives, it is true, but nothing had been imputed to them indica-
tive of cruel dispositions or hardened consciences. Their
victim, in his familiar conversation, to which of course they
were admitted — the Knapps at least — was accustomed to
speak, with some carelessness of expression, of things worthy
of reverence ; to profess a doubt of eternal life, and a reckless
impatience of this tedious existence. J. J. Knapp, and
others, often listening to such talk, began to think of indulg-
ing the wishes of the speaker, and finally came to the conclu-
eion, that, as he stood shivering on the brink, seemingly desi-
rous, yet fearing to plunge, it would be no unkindness in them
to afibrd him a little aid, - .

The murier was committed through a mistake of law-

176 CHAPTER VIII.

Some weeks previous to it, Joseph Knapp applied to a lawyer
to ascertain the law as to the distribution of the estate of the
old gentleman, in case he should die intestate. The lawyer
advised him, that the estate would descend to his nephews and
neices, his next of kin, jper stirjpes, and not per capita ^ Knapp
thence concluded that his mother-in-law, who was a neice of
the old gentleman, and sole representative of one of the two
branches, would inherit half the estate, which was very large,
and that in consequence, it was a matter of great moment that
he (Mr. White) should die and leave no will.

The murder was committed too, through a mistake of fact,
for though the murderers got a will, it was not the will. The
one destroyed was made sometime before the murder ; another
was found after the murder, bequeathing the mass of the pro-
perty to the other branch of the family. This circumstance,
of Knapp's not being benefited by the murder, for some
time averted the suspicion of his being engaged in it. But
when it had been ascertained that he was a party to it, his ig-
norance of the existence of the second will solved the whole
mystery, revealed the motive of the act. •

The actual murderer, KichardCrowningshield, was indicted,
arrested and committed to close confinement in prison, on the
testimony of one who was wholly ignorant of the truth or
falsehood of what he testified. Hatch, -the witness against
him, was a felon imprisoned at New Bedford, at the time the
murder was committed ; he falsely pretended to be able to
testify to material facts. Attorney-General Morton, at the

DANIEL WEBSTER, 177

Supreme Judicial Court whicli sat in Essex, a few weeks after
the murder, moved for a Habeas Corj^us ad Testificandum ^
and Hatcli was carried in chains to Ipswich, and on his testi-
mony, wholly false, a hill of indictment was found against
Kichard Crowningsheld and three other persons, who were ar-
rested and committed for trial. "

Kichard Crowningshield did not despond at first in his impri-
sonment, because he knew he was charged with the crime on
false testimony ; hut a month after, when he heard that some
of his accomplices had turned States' evidence, and disclosed
the truth, his heart failed him, as he contemplated the seem-
ing desperateness of his condition, and soon abandoning all for
lost, he committed suicide, to escape a public ignominious
death ; while if he had boldly stood the chances of a trial be-
fore a jury, he needs must have been acquitted, notwith-
standing all the disclosures, for want of sufficient legal testi-
mony— the disclosures, so far as he was concerned, having
been mere hearsay, which is not, technically, evidence. But,
from want of moral courage, he committed suicide, and sui-
cide was confession.

Joseph J. Knapp, it will be recollected, consented at one
time to be States' evidence, and to make a full confession of
the whole truth ; had he remained steadfast to this compact
with the government, he would thereby have saved his own
life, and, by his testimony, acquitted his brother Francis,
His testimony would have proved that Francis was in Brown-
fitreet — the locale of the murder — without the knowledge and

178 CHAPTER viir.

against the wishes of Eichard Crowningsliield, and that his sole
purpose in going there was to ascertain from him, historically,
whether the deed had heen done. It was proved at the trial,
that Francis was in Brown-street at the time of the murder,
and the jury from all the evidence, and in the absence of any
proof that he was there for any other purpose than to aid
Kichard Crowningshieid, came to the conclusion, that he was
there expressly for that purpose ; and, consequently, found
liim guilty as principal. He was thus convicted for want of
his brother's testimony. But this very confession of Joseph
Knapp, though withdrawn before trial, and thus, technically,
ruled out of court, must have produced some influence upon
the minds of the jury disastrous to the defendants. A rule of
law could prevent the admission of the testimony into court,
but not into the minds of men. This confession revealed
certain facts — admitted as evidence through the person to
whom they were made known — such as the concealment of
the club by which Crowningshieid perpetrated the murder, and
other auxiliary circumstances, without which it might have
been difficult to have obtained conviction. Thus, by his
double weakness — first in confessing, and then retracting —
Joseph Knapp accomplished his brother's conviction of a
crime which was perpetrated for his own benefit.

Some censure at the time was passed U23on the conduct of
the defence. The eminent counsel,it was thought, committed
the fatal error of bringing forward no plan, hypothesis or
theoi'y which could admit of the innocence of the accused,

DANIEL WEBSTER. 179

but contented himself ratlier with a kind of guerilla warfare,
attacking the positions or witnesses of the other side, in a
series of flying skirmishes. A kind of defence, which, in
criminal cases, never has succeeded, and probably never will.

It was thought also at the time, that the learned counsel for
the defence betrayed a want of professional equanimity, if not
courtesy, that they made too many and too lachrymose com-
plaints of the professional aid the prosecuting officer retained
on the trial, compelling Mr. Webster to say to the jury, that,
" In the course of his whole life, he had never before heard
so much said about the particular counsel who happen to be
employed ; as if it were extraordinary that other counsel than
the usual officers of the government should be assisting in the
conducting of a case on the part of the government." And
that they exhibited, in fine, indications of too captious a
spirit, and too irascible temperament.

The opinion in regard to the management of the prosecu-
tion was warmly approbatory. It was, indeed, generally ad-
mitted that, but for Mr. Webster's masterly argument, a con-
viction would never have been procured against the prisoners.
The earnest and resistless logic, by which he demonstrated the
necessity of their guilt, dispelled the doubts which had hung
over the case from complicated and contradictory evidence.
Their moral guilt might have been suspected, their /e^«7 guilt,
without him, could not have been established.

The closiniT words of his argument, in which he reminds the
jury of the obligation they were under to discharge their duty,

CHAPTER Vlir.

have been quoted before, but may not be unworthy of repeti-
tion here : " A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omni-
present, like the Deity. If we take to oui'selves the wings of
the morning and dwell in the utmost parts of the sea, duty
performed, or duty violated, is still with us, for our happiness
or our misery. If we say the darkness shall cover us, in the
darkness as in the light, our obligations are yet with us. We
cannot escape their power, nor fly from their presence. They
are with us in this life, will be with us at its close ; and, in that
scene of inconceivable solemnity, which lies yet farther on-
ward, we shall still find ourselves surrounded by the conscious-
ness of duty, to pain us wherever it has been violated, and to
console us, so far as Grod may have given us grace to perform

~^-^'

. CHAPTER IX.

Soon after the reply to Hayne, the principles of constitu-
tional law evolved therefrom, were put to the severest test.
The fatal doctrine of nullification, brought boldly forward in
Colonel Hayne's argument, for the first time, gained, during
the two years that followed, a strength, and following in a cer-
tain section, sufficient to create a feeling of sincere apprehen-
sion on the part of the friends of the Union.

The motives of actors we can judge of solely from their
revelation in deeds. There is no process, moral or legal, to
reach the conscience. As does a man, so, to all possible un-
derstanding, he thinks. The reasons assigned, so liberally and
authoritatively at times, for the conduct of public men, by the
historian or biographer, are those rather of the writer than
actor, in a generality of cases.

The narrator can give facts, from which each intelligent
reader for himself is able to draw satisfactory conclusions.

"Within a year of the famous controversy between Mr. "Web-
ster and Colonel Hayne, Mr. Yan Buren and Mr. Forsyth,
availing themselves of the fortuitous circumstance of a femi-

182 CHAPTER IX.

nine quarrel in General Jackson's cabinetj to ensure a long-
premeditated intention, produced a rupture between General
Jackson and Mr. Calhoun ; a rupture not only of political but
personal relations, and of extremer virulence from the pre-
ceding intimacy. General Jackson, alike violent in enmity
and friendship, began now to cherish and express feelings of
deadly hatred towards his associate in the government.

Mr. Calhoun was necessarily precipitated into opposition to
his former political friends. He could not remain in the De-
mocratic party against General Jackson. There was no
catholicity unrecognized by the head of the faith. Himself
and friends, therefore, found themselves in compulsory hostil-
ity to the administration. This hostility, originally personal,
became soon, by the operation of natural causes, one of mea-
sures and principle. To those who are not accustomed to
dwell upon the evolutions of politicians, and notice with what
a strange rapidity they are performed, it might appear no
little surprising that these two eminent individuals, on taking
their latitude after the somewhat long duration of their personal
conflict, discovered that each had wandered very far from the
course in which he had been moving, and in entirely oppo-
site direction the one to the other. Up to the accession of
Mr. Adams to the Presidency, in 1825, Mr. Calhoun had been
known as an ardent, sincere and efficient advocate of the
liberal powers of the general government, especially as re-
garded the institution of a protective tariff; while General
Jackson, except in Pennsylvania, had been considered as

DAN[EL WEBSTER. 1S3

favoring;, at least in heart, the theory and policy of Mr. Craw-
ford, the leader of the strict constructionists. But now,
their positions were wholly reversed ; Mr. Calhoun contending
for the right of each State to oppose the measures of the
general government, even to nullification — General Jackson
insisting upon a large and liberal interpretation of the Consti-
tution, and the putting down of resistance to the exercise of
the powers it grants, by the force of the general government.

The controversy, as is ever the case, became more bitter and
violent, from the former friendship between the two most dis-
tinguished parties to it. Notwithstanding their endeavors to
give it an exclusive character of principle, it could not but be
felt there was in it great personal vindictiveness. No terms of
reproach, accusation or denunciation were spared on either
hand, by the friends of either party towards their opponents ;
Calhoun-men and Jackson-men hated each other with a hatred
far more unsparing than either felt towards their late political
opponents. . , . - .

In spite of the defection of Mr. Calhoun and his friends,
G-eneral Jackson was re-elected President, in the fall of 1832^
by a large majority over Mr. Clay, the candidate of the Op-
position— or, ^' National Eepublicans," as they then styled
themselves — and Mr. "Van Buren, Yice-President ; South
Carolina alone of the Southern Democratic States, withholding
its vote from the candidates of the Democratic party.

Immediately upon the result of the canvass, the people of
that State, urged to temporary phrenzy by their political

184 CHAPTER IX.

leaders in and out of Congress, met by delegates in conyen-
tion, and passed wliat tliey called an ordinance^ estabKshing
new and fundamental principles. This convention overthrew
the whole revenue system. It did not limit itself to the acts
of 1828 or 1832, but adopted a solemn declaration that, in
their State, no taxes should be collected. In this declaration
they stated that South Carolina had thrown herself into the
breach, and would stand foremost in resistance to the laws of
the Union ; and they solemnly called upon the citizens of the
State to stand by the principles of the ordinance. The
Legislature of the State, meeting soon after, ratified this ordi-
nance, and declared the tariff acts unconstitutional, and
utterly null and void. It passed an act besides, directing the
enlisting and enrollment of volunteers, and advised all the
citizens to put themselves in military array.

The excitement in the State became intense. The whole
State was in arms, or ready to be so at a moment's warning.
A military spirit everywhere prevailed. The blue cockade
with the Palmetto button, was almost universally worn, and
musters were held every day. The city of Charleston wore
the appearance of a military depot ; and it was generally sup-
posed, that the first attempt to enforce the revenue laws of
the United States, would produce instantaneous collision be-
tween the forces of the general government and of the State.

G-eneral Hayne resigned his seat in the Senate of the
United States, and was elected Governor of the State, to
meet the emergency ; and Mr. Calhoun, resigning his office as

DAXIEL WEBSTER. 185

Vice-President — tliree months before its constitutional expira-
tion— succeeded General Hayne in the Senate.

The state of public affairs threatened a fatal crisis. G-ene-
rai Jackson, unterrified by the belligerent appearance of South
Carolina, determined to enforce the law, at every hazard.
His cabinet, indeed, maintained a profound silence in regard
to his intentions ; but some of his most intimate friends an-
nounced that he would immediately employ the naval force of
the country, and blockade Charleston. Everywhere, throughout
the country, an anxious feverish apprehension of some immediate
catastrophe agitated the minds of men.

Early in December Congress met. The vacant chair was
filled by the election of Hugh L. White, of Tennessee, as
President of the Senate, on the fifth ballot, by a vote of seven-
teen to fourteen for John Tyler, of Yirginia. The Senate
was composed as follows :

Blaine — John Holmes, Peleg Sprague.

JVeiv Hampshire — Samuel Bell, Isaac Hill.

Massachusetts — Nathaniel Silsbee, Daniel "Webster.

Rhode Island — N. R. Knio;ht, Asher Robbins.

Connecticut — Samuel A. Foot, Gid. Tomlinson.

New Yo?-/.-— Charles E. Dudley, Silas Wright.

New Jersey — Mahlon Dlckerson, Theo. Frelinghuysen.

Pennsylvania — Geo. M. Dallas, Wm. Wilkins.

Delaware — John PJ. Clayton, Arnold Naudain.

Maryland — Ezekiel F. Chambers, Samuel Smith.

Virginia — John Tyler, Yfilliam C. Kives. ;

9

186 CHAPTER IX.

North Carolina — Bedford Brown, Willie P. Mangum.

South Carolina — Stephen D. Miller, Jolin C. Calhoun.

Georgia — Geo, M. Troup, John Forsyth.

KentiLcJcy — Greo. SI. Bibb, Henry Clay.

Tennessee — Eelix G-rundy, Hugh L. White.

Ohio — Thomas Ewing, Benjamin Buggies.

Louisiana — Josiah S. Johnston, Geo. A. Waggaman.

Indiana — William Hendricks, John Tipton.

Mississijp^i — Geo. Poindexter, John Black.

Illinois — EliasK. Kane, John M. Kobinson. . ,.

Alabama — ^William B. King, Gabriel Moore. . ~

Missouri — Thos H. Benton, Alexander Buckner.

Many of these names have an " odor of nationality" about
them ; and all of them are transcribed here, in order that
those not great in themselves may afford relief to the others'
greatness.

Mr. Calhoun did not arrive in time to be present at the
opening of the Senate. His arrival was awaited with no
little impatience. Some apprehension was entertained that
he would be arrested on his way, on a charge of treason against
the government. General Jackson had indulged in a threat
of that kind ; and those, who knew he seldom threatened but
he meant to do, were' in momentary expectation of such an
event.

On the 10th of December, appeared General Jackson's
celebrated proclamation against nullification Probably, no
document ever issued from the Executive Department which

DAMEL WEBSTER. 187

gave rise to a more profound sensation. It confounded alike
friend and foe of tlie administration. This State paper wag
the production of Mr. Livingston, then Secretary of State,
though, it bears in many pages marks of General Jackson's
dictation. His will penetrates every sentence of it. Mr.
Webster, in the preceding October, in a speech at Worcester,
Massachusetts, had reproached the administration for having
done nothing and said nothing, to arrest the revolutionary
doctrines of nullification. In this speech we had recapitulated
the powers and duties of the general government, as pre-
viously defined in his reply to Hayne, and urged the necessity
of their exercise. But at the same time, and in equally forci-
ble language, he took ground against the employment of mili-
tary force. ^' For one" — he said — " I raise my voice before-
hand against the unauthorized employment of military power,
and against superseding the authority of the laws, by an
armed force, under the pretence of putting down nullification.
The ^resident has no authority to blockade Charleston ; the
President has no authority to employ military force till he
shall be duly required so to do by law and by the civil autho-
rities. His duty is to cause the laws to be executed. His
duty is to support the civil authority. His duty is, if the laws
be resisted, to employ the military force of the country, if ne-
cessary, for then' support and execution ; but to do all this in
compliance only with law, and with decisions of the tribunals."
Mr. Webster, on his way to Washington in December, first
heard of the proclamation in New Jersey, from a traveller,

188 CHAPTER IX.

unknown to Lim, and to whom lie also was unknown, who had
just left the metropolis. This person told him, as news, that
General Jackson had just issue/, a proclamation against nulli-
fication, " taken altogether from Webster's speech at Wor-
cester."

There certainly is a resemblance — strange indeed, if unin-
tentional— between, not the sentiments alone, but the very
language of these two productions.

To G-eneral Jackson's proclamation, Governor Hayne issued
a counter-proclamation, denouncing the attitude of the gene-
ral government towards the State of South Carolina, and
threatening to resist to the last extremity, the enforcement of
its jurisdiction over the citizens of the State.

The " crisis" evidently approached. The United States'
troops were concentrated, in some force, at Augusta and
Charleston, seemingly for the purpose of repressing any in-
surrectionary or rebellious movement in the State ; while on
the other side, equal preparation was made. The militia in
certain sections of the State were called out and drilled,
muskets were put in order, swords cleaned and sharpened, and
depots of provisions and supplies established. Officers, na-
tives of the State, in the army and navy of the United States
contemplated resigning their commissions, and flying to the
defence of the State. While some foreign officers, then in
the country, actually tendered their services to the governor,
against the forces of the general government. ,

Such, in December, was the aspect of affairs in South Caro-

DANIEL WEBSTEE. 1S9

lina. Civil war had not indeed commenced, and yet all that
seemed wanting to bring it on, was hut a forcible demonstration
from either party. At a great assembly of NuUifiers in Charles-
ton, 3Ir. Preston, one of the most influential among them,
said, among other things equally portentous — " There are
sixteen thousand back-countrymen with arms in their hands
and coclcades in 'their hats^ ready to march to our city at a
moment's warning, to defend us ; and the moment Congress
shall pass the laws recommended to the President in relation
to our port, I will pour down a torrent of volunteers that
shall sweep the myrmidons of the tyrant from the soil of Caro-
lina." There was somewhat of bombast in this language, but,
unfortunately too, somewhat of truth. There were many in
South Carolina ready and even eager for collision with the
United States authorities.

This state of things lasted through December, keeping the
entire country in constant agitation. In the meantime, Mr.
Calhoun did not make his appearance at Washington ; his
friends said that he remained to prevent an outbreak in South
Carolina ; his enemies that he feared to encounter the pre-
sence of General Jackson.

At length, the news of his departure from South Carolina,
and of his progress towards the metropc lis, reached Washing-
ton, the latter part of December. At Kaleigh, North Caro-
lina, he passed, it was said. New Year's day, waited upon by
large crowds of people. A public dinner, on the part of the
citizens, was offered to, and urged upon him, which he de-

190 , CHAPTER IX.

clined on the ground of his public engagements. Travelling
more slowly, tlian in these days of steam, his approach v,^as
heralded from one place to another, and preparation made for
his reception. Everywhere he was met with respect, even in
places where his principles were obnoxious and his course con-
demned : for it was thousrht he was honest in his intentions.
The story of his progress through North Carolina and Virginia
reaching the capital before him, mitigated to a degree the
harshness of the general feeling in that place towards him,
and prevented any hostile demonstration, if such had been in-
tended, against him.

It wa,s on the fourth day of January, 1833, he took his
seat, for the first time, as Senator of the United States. He
had presided, as Vice-President, over the deliberations of the
Senate for nearly four years, but had never been otherwis*- a
member of that body.

It was an impressive occasion. The Senate was crowded,
to witness the ceremony of his taking the oath of office. He
walked in, slowly and deliberately, to his seat. Some went
up to him and tendered their congratulations ; but many of
the Senators held back. With his State almost in open re-
bellion, and himself, in general opinion, its most turbulent
agitator, there were many who entertained towards him any
but kind feelings. The idea of disunion was then a monstroi«5
and unnatural idea ; it had not become familiarized, and all
whose language, even by implication, seemed to advocate or
tolerate that project, were held in abhorrence.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 191

More than one Senator present, to wliom Mr. Cal-
lioun's assured but not j)resumptuous manner seemed _ike a
bold defiance of opinion, was ready to exclaim, in the words
of Cicero, when he addressed the audacious Cataline —
" Quousque tandem abuUrt Catcdiim ^atientid nostrd ? ([liam-'
din etiam furor iste tiius nos cludet ? q^iem ad finem sesa
effrenata jadahit audacia?''^ Certainly the presence of Mr.
Calhoun in the Senate " abused their patience," for they held
their seats under the Constitution, which they thought he me-
ditated to overthrow ; and his " unbridled audacity" in thrust-
ing himself into a body, whose action, as a co-ordinate branch
of the government, his measures threatened to destroy, es-
cited their indignation. ' ' -- ."

Still, when with reverential manner, and in a serious, sol-
emn, and audible voice he took the oath to support the Con-
sTiTUTiox OF THE United Stat.f.s, opiniou softened towards
him ; and many who had foreborne to accost him earlier now
came forward, and with great sincerity, welcomed him to the
Senate. He took all in good part ; reciprocated the compli-
ments he received, and concurred with others in the hope of
harmonious legislation.

But all who had the fear or love of Gen. Jackson before
their eyes, hated or professed to hate the southern chieftain.
The thunders of the White House terrified as much in these
days, as ever the thunders of the Vatican ; no man would en-
counter them, unless for a purpose most safely and selfishly
advantageous. The Jackson~men proper, were the most vio-

192 CHAPTER IX.

lent of the anti-Calhoun men. The Jackson presd denounced
hhn with less measured invective, than even his most preju-
diced political opponents ; — and the high-way to the old
General's heart was supposed to he abuse of Mr. Calhoun.

But all moved him not ; neither foreign defiance, " malice
domestic," nor executive denunciation. The certainty of an
overwhelming opposition to his cause, the clamor of an abusive
press, the menace even of personal outrage — none frightened
him from his propriety of word or action. He looked and
hore himself " every inch" a mai^t. They who disapproved
most his theories or his acts, could not but admire his noble
and undaunted bearing, or refuse him honesty of intention.
His friends would have applied the eloquent language of the

Roman poet to his conduct.

■ . , ,^

. " Justum et tenacem propositi virum,

Non civium ardor prava jubentium
I\on vultus instantis Tyranni
Mente quatit solida."

Mr. Calhoun, stiU new to his seat in the Senate, entered
upon action in relation to the affairs of his State ; a few days
after his appearance, he introduced a resolution, calling upon
the President for copies of his Proclamation of the 10th De-
cember, and Governor Hayne's counter-proclamation. These
being communicated to the Senate on the 16th of January,
Mr. Calhoun took the floor, and attacked with no little warmth
of language the principles of the President's proclamation.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 193

" The cry had heen raised," he said, " that the Union was in
danger. I know of no other danger than that of military des-
potism— I will proclaim it on this floor, that this is the
greatest danger with which the Union is menaced — a danger
the greatest which any country has to apprehend."

Mr. Forsyth rose to interrupt him. He said that on a
motion to refer (Mr. Grundy having made a motion to that
effect) all observations on the merits of the President's message
were irrelevant and irregular.

, Mr. Calhoun replied that he had so stated in the outset of
his remarks, hut, in the peculiar circumstances of his situation,
had hoped and requested for a few minutes the indulgence of
the Senate.

After the interchange of some explanatory remarks between
these two gentlemen, the motion to refer was carried, and
thereupon the Senate adjourned.

On Monday the 21st of January, Mr. "Wilkins a Senator
from Pennsylvania, introduced from the committee on the ju-
diciary, of which he was chau-man, a bill further to provide for
the collection of duties on imports. This was the famous
" Force Bilh" "

It seemed to partake somewhat of the character of the decree
passed by the Senate of Kome, in political emergencies, " rf-
deant consules^ ne quid res puhlica detrimenti capiatj'^ the con-
suls should take care that the republic sustained no injury ;
investing them with powers unknown to peaceable times. It

empowered the President to employ the naval or land forces
9*

194 CHAPTER IX.

or militia of the United States to put down any armed or
riotous assemblage of persons resisting tlie custom-lioiise offi-
cers in tlie discharge of their duty, or in any manner opposing
the execution of the revenue laws of the United States ; limit-
ing him to no expenditure of money for the purpose, but in-
Testing him, — the opponents of the bill contended, — with full
and unquestionable power over the purse and sword, Mr.
Poindexter, one of the most able as well as the most deter-
mined enemies to the measure, declared, that if the title of
the bill corresponded to its provisions, it might be designated
as "A bill to repeal the Constitution of the United States,
and to vest in the President despotic powers."

Mr. Calhoun on the day succeeding, to repel the assault of
the Executive as he considered this recommendation of the
judiciary, brought forward in the Senate his celebrated resolu-
tions, defining the powers of the general government, of which
the most important was the following : " Resolved, That the
people of the several States, thus united by the constitutional
compact, in forming that instrument, and in creating a gene-
ral government to carry into eficct the objects for which it was
formed, delegated to that government, for that purpose, cer-
tain definite powers, to be exercised jointly, reserving at the
same time, each State to itself, the residuary mass of powers,
to be exercised by its own separate government, and that when-
ever the general government assumes the exercise of powers
not delegated by the compact, its acts are unauthorized, and
are of no effect ; and that the same government is not made

DANfEL WEBSTER, 195

the final judge of tlic powers delegated to it, since tliat could
make its discretion, and not the Constitution, the measure of
its powers ; but that, as in all other cases of compact among
sovereign parties, without any common judge, each has an
equal right to judge for itself, as well of the infraction as of
the mode and measure of redress."

He introduced these resolutions with some prefatory remarks,
in terse, condensed, emphatic language — the beautiful struc-
ture of which, a word interpolated or withdrawn would deface
if not destroy. The speech was not long — in duration, not
more than half an hour ; but it produced a greater impression
than volumes of ordinary argument. It revealed to the friends
of the administration the character of the enemy with whom
they would be compelled to contend ; it gave them to under--
stand that in the conflict which was hastily approaching, there
could be, on their part, no reserved strength ; that all was
to be exerted, and all, but with great dexterity and energy, in
vain. _ ^ . \

Mr. G-rundy, the " next fiiend" to the President in the
Senate, undertook the conduct of the bill through that body.
Passing between the President and his principal adherents in
the two Houses, he matured, in frequent consultation with
both parties, his plan of operations. Canvassing the Senate,
he found, among his politieal associates there, some unchange-
ably opposed to the principles and recommendations of the
bill. Manguni and Brown of North Carolina, Poindexter of
Mississippi, Tyler of Virginia, Bibb of Kentucky, all able

196 -^ CHAPTER IX.

debaters and liitlierto most 2Drominent of the Democratic
party, threatened to oppose the passage of the Tbillj with
all the strength of argument and skill in strategy they could
command. Executive blandishments and executive menace
availed naught against their purpose. They entrenched them-
selves within their State Eights' principles, as Wellington at
Torres Yedras.

Nor among all not hostile to the bill was there great warmth
of sentiment, or much promise of earnest co-operation, in its
favor. Colonel Benton even, yielding to no one in devotion
to the person and fortunes of the President, seemed to doubt
the policy of dragooning a measure through the two Houses,
"upon the merits of which the party was so irreconcileably
divided ; an internecine war, he knew full well, would spring
up between friends upon the issue, and rage with fiercer inten-
sity than between hereditary or natural foes. He was at this
time, besides, on terms of even intimacy with Mr. Calhoun,
whose ingenuous character and transcendent ability he omitted
no occasion to dwell upon in enthusiastic terms. He was re-
luctant to be brought into personal conflict with one, against
whom he had no ground of individual complaint ; but with
whom, on the contrary, he entertained sentiments in regard to
political action and theories, so nearly homogeneous. His vote
was safe for the bill, but he was not prepared to take an active
or leading part in securing its success.

Others promised votes and all the influence, personal and
political, they Qould exert in support. of the measure; some

DANIEL WEBSTER. 197

from a conviction of its necessity, and some from devotion tc
tlie party or to Greneral Jackson — which, they considered
identical ideas.

But a numerical majority barely, though assured beyond a
doubt, was not all the administration sought. To be success-
ful in the vote, and yet worsted in the argument, would be a
barren victory ; a victory, more humiliating and even more
fatal, than an honorable defeat. Before the great tribunal of
PUBLIC OPINION, the cause was to be argued ; and upon its
decision, and not upon the votes of complying Congressmen,
were the merits of the question, and the honesty, and ability,
and future destiny of the actors to be determined. From
such decision, there was no aj)peal ; and the friends of the ad-
ministration, nervously sensitive of the importance of the con-
test, determined to spare no exertion to gain a favorable ver-
dict. It was, in truth, to them, a life-and-death struggle.
Not even the overwhelming popularity of General Jackson
conld long have upholdeu his administration against the stun-
ning effects of hostile opinion, on this momentous question.

Yet there were of the Democratic party in the Senate, who
favored the bill, some of distinguished capacity, of whom was
Rives of Virginia, deeply versed in Constitutional law ; a
logician of much astuteness, an earnest and fluent debater,
and of a mind too liberal and too comprehensive, to be re-
stricted to the contemplation solely of isolated abstractions ;
Dallas of Pennsylvania, whom forensic training and natural
talent admirably qualified for controversial argument j Wilkins,

198 CHAPTER IX.

also of Pennsylvania, less eminent than his colleague as a
lawyer and statesman, hut of no inferior parts ; Forsyth of
Georgia, possessing qualities of mind as extraordinary in their
variety as their several excellence — a wit, ready and polished,
that loved to play not wound — an imagination ai'dent but well
regulated — a fancy, expressive, glowing, and chaste — a me-
mory tenacious and reliable — and a judgment discriminatingj
profound and correct ; Grundy himself, a persuasive speaker,
of an imposing presence and conciliatory manner, an admira-
ble tactitian withal, that understood and could reo-ulate the
springs of action.

But all the combination of such various talents, powerful as
it was, the administration felt deeply would not avail against
Mr. Calhoun. He was in himself equal to the whole strength
the administration could put forth. He had all his antagonists
had, and more ; more vigor of thought and energy of expres-
sion, a greater variety and depth of acquisition, and morr
knowledge of the science of government ; and, above all these,
a power of analysis and combination, which could resolve the
most complex ideas into their original elements, and, by the
process of generalization, from materials thus reduced to his
will, construct one harmonious system of lofty and impregna-
ble truths. He had in fine, genius, while the rest had but
talent, however eminent.

In this great crisis of the party and the country, Mr.
Grundy felt that it was necessary to seek elsewhere than from
his political associates. His eyes were turned where all other

DANIEL WEBSTER. 199

eyes were turned. There was but one man, the friends of the
administration felt, who could rescue the government and the
country from the dangers that encompassed and threatened to
overwhelm them. And he of all men was the person they had
sought most to injure. -

From imperative engagements elsewhere, Mr. Webster had
been but little time in the Senate during the earlier discussion
of the bill, and had taken no part in it. His apparent indif-
ference to its fate added to the apprehensions of the friends of
the measure, made them still more anxious to gain his sup-
port. Democratic members of both houses hung round his
friends, seeking by every argument, promise or entreaty their
favorable influence with him — a member of General Jackson's
cabinet came to him at his lodgings, and earnestly besought
him to take the lead in defence of the measure — to assume
the controlling management of it, and to suggest whatever
amendments he deemed necessary. It was indeed full time
for his appearance. The South Carolinian Hector was pur-
suing his enemies to their very last entrenchments, threatening
to involve in one common ruin the administration, the Consti-
tution and the country, while Achilles was absent from the
battle. - ' ' '

Mr. Webster, like the hero of the G-recian epic, might have
listened to his enemies and turned an unheeding ear to the
supplications of his late assailants. He might have " fretted
his great heart" in silence, safe in his haughty isolation, and
left his enemies to perish.

200 CHAPTER IX.

But private griefs, nor any considerations of a private cha-
racter ever controlled his regard for the public interest ; the
one has been with him at all times postponed to the other.
In the present case, he held the cause of the administration,
the cause of the constitution, and of the country — if the for-
mer went down on this issue, the constitution and the
country would go down with it. He forgot, therefore, the
contumelious treatment he had received, forgot the injuries
done and intended him, and rallied his whole strength in sup-

■^r^-i-t- r\¥ ■fh/i f-^riToo-nc:! +r\ ■^TT-l/-^^-n fny ^^^n fiw-|A_ f|if> ITltereStS of hlS

■: , CHAP TEE X.

Mr. "Wilkins of Pennsylvania, wlio introduced the HD,
commenced the debate upon it. He opened the case for the
government. His introductory remarks were well conceived
and expressed, moderate in tone, and pertinent. He was not
allowed to proceed, however, without interruption. Messrs.
Calhoun and Miller of South Carolina, and Poindexter of
Mississippi, broke in upon him with interrogatories, explanations,
and denials, continually, during the first day of his speech.
The second day he got along with less difficulty, though not
uninterruptedly ; ]\Ir. Calhoun watching every word that fell
from him, and gainsaying many. '' The moment," said Mr.
Wilkins, " we fail to coimteract the nullification proceedings of
South Carolina, the Union is dissolved ; for, in this govern-
ment of laws, union is obedience, and obedience is union. The
moment South Carolina — -

Mr. Calhoun, interposing — " Who relies upon force in this
controversy } I have insisted upon it, that South Carolina re-
lied altogether on civil process, and that, if the general go-
yernment resorts to force, then only will South Carolina rely

202 CHAPTER X.

upon force. If force be introduced by either party, upon tbat
party will fall the responsibility."

Mr. Wilkins — " The general government will not appeal, in
the first instance, to force. It will appeal to the patriotism cf
South Carolina — to that magnanimity of which she boasts so
much" — -

Mr. Calhoun, with some asperity — "I am sorry that South
Carolina cannot appeal to the sense of justice of the general
government" — and hereupon, two or three Senators called him
to order. So far from being considered laudable, it was holdcn
censurable then for any Senator to speak in objurgatory terms
of the general government. To have spoken of tJie advan-
tages of separation or secession, would have provoked for the
ofibnder, the indignation or contemptuous pity of the House,
in which such sentiments were proposed. Twenty years before
this, in 1811, when a distinguished member from Massachu-
setts, in a debate on the bill for the admission of Louisiana,
in the House of Representatives, used these expressions —
" If this bill passes, the Union is virtually dissolved ; and it
will be the right of all, and the indispensable duty of some of
the States, to prepare definitely for a separation — amicably,
if they can, forcibly, if they must," the Speaker, Joseph
B. Yarnum, of Massachusetts, formerly a soldier of the Re-
volution, decided that it was not in order to use words in de-
bate which threatened the stability of the Union. But parlia-
mentary manners have changed since, and members of Con-
gress now threaten disunion, not only without attracting cen-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 203

sure, but even attention. The idea no less than the word
seems to have hecome endurable.

Mr. Wilkins continued and concluded his speech the second
day, when Mr. Bibb of Kentucky, took the floor. His ap-
pearance gave a character to his words. He retained some-
what of the old school in his manner and dress. His words,
too, were selected and enunciated with great particularity.
But though formal, his manner was not cold ; nor was his Ian- '
guage, though precise, without force. *' I have witnessed,"
he said, in his exordium — "the ragings of the natural ele-
ments, when the blackening clouds gathered. I have seen the
forked flashes blaze u^^Oii the mountain, and yet the rock that
decked the mountain's brow, and defied the storm, remained
unscathed by the lightnings of heaven. I have heard the
clamoring of the winds, and seen the proud forest bend before
the majesty of nature. In the fury of the storm, I have seen
the fond mother press her infant to her bosom, and sigh, with
fearful apprehension that her husband might be exposed, house-
less, ' to bide the peltings of the pitiless storm.' But, in the
darkest gloom of elemental strife, there was a consolation ; for
there was an assurance that the storm would cease ; that the
sun would again shed his gladdening rays, on herb, tree, fruit,
and flower, displaying the charms of nature in renovated
health and refreshened verdure. But when, in the storm now
gathering in the political horizon, I shall hear the blast of a
trumpet, the neighing of the steeds, the noisy drum, the re-
soundings of the heavy-toned, fiery-mouthed cannon ; when I

204 CHAPTER X.

shall see tlie glittering of small arms ; wlien I shall read thfe
proclamation preparatory to mortal strife between State and
State, and know that the strife is in fact begun ' in all the
pride, and pomp, and circumstance of war,' I shall then des-
pair. There will be no assurance that the Constitution will
erect its proud crest above the struggling hosts, and come out
unscathed from the contest. I have no assurance that the
Union will survive the carnage and embittered feelings en-
gendered in the impious war of child against parent, brother
against brother." This, after all, seems a kind of speech
that occupies the dcbateable ground between eloquence and
bathos ; a decided lurch either way would conclude its destiny.
A man without ability could not use such language ; a man of
great abilities would not. , ^

The whole of his first day, Mr. Bibb used for an historical
introduction to his speech. He gave, in great detail, the pro-
ceedings of States antecedent to the adoption of the Constitu-
tion. The second day he devoted to a consideration of the
powers of the general government under the Constitution ;
and, before the close of the senatorial day, he exhausted, if
not the subject, his audience and himself. ^ .

He gave way about two o'clock in the afternoon to Mr.
Poindexter, who moved an adjournment ; but the Senate re-
fused to adjourn. Wherefore Mr. Buckner of Missouri,
moved to postpone the further consideration of the bill, and to
make it the special order for the next day.

Mr. Webster rose to a point of order. The gentleman from

DANIEL WEBSTER.

205

Kentucky had given way, in the usual manner, to a motion to
adjourn. Such was the practice of the Senate. But if a
gentleman yielded the floor for any other motion, he yielded
the riu-ht to resume it.

Whereupon Mr. Poindexter rose, and said, with some
warmth of manner — " It must be apparent to the Senate,
that the question now before the Senate is one of the greatest
importance. I have never before seen a disposition manifest-
ed by this body to refuse to a member an opportunity for
rest and research, in order to enable himself to close his argu-
ment in a manner which would be satisfactory to himself and
the country. If the Senator from Massachusetts is disposed
to speak to the Senate for a week, I will always vote for ad-
journment when requested.'' ^ ' ,

The Chair having decided that if a Senator yield the floor
for any other motion than a motion to adjourn, he lost the
rio'ht of the floor, Mr. Poindexter made another unsuccessful
motion to adjourn. - .

Thereupon Mr. Bibb rallied, and spoke with accustomed
fluency for a few minutes, when the Senate, giving way to a
sense of weariness, consented to adjourn.

There are few men, of however eminent ability, who can
command listening senates three entire days in succession,
upon one subject. Our logomachies astound our trans-Atlan-
tic cotemporaries, who cannot comprehend, from their own
experience, our protracted debates. The discussion of a bill
in the British Parliament occasionally outlasts a day's or

206 CHAPTER X.

nlglit's session ; an individual speech, never. Tlie commence-
ment and conclusion must be of one day ; the unities being
as strictly observed as in the Grreek drama.

The experiment with us of long, tedious speeches is fatal to
the ill-advised perpetrator. The attention wearies, the mind
revolts, at such atrocious outrage against the fitness of things.
He who talks much performs little. . ' .- ■ ,- .

Mr. Bibb's third day speech was listened to but from cour
tesy. He seemed himself finally to become affected by the
atmosphere of dullness he had called around him, and hasten-
ed to a close. His speech evinced much judgment ; and it
was to be regretted no less for his sake than for others, that
he had not exhibited more and spoken less. ---

Mr. Frelinghuysen of New Jersey appropriated all the rem-
nant that was left of Mr. Bibb's third day, and a portion of
the day following. His argument was respectable, not bril-
liant. "" We rely," said he, " upon the peaceful energies of
our institutions ; Europe, on the thunder of her cannon and
the clangor of her arms. Poor Holland is about to pay
dearly for this balance of power. For two hundred years it
has deluged Europe with blood. Here we have it in a peace-
ful tribunal, by which the tranquillity of the country and the
safety of our institutions may be preserved for years to come.
Just and certain retribution will come upon those who destroy
this peaceful arbiter, and set up the sword in its stead. Here
is the system, sir, as I understand it, as I honor it, and as I,
with my latest breath, will maintain it. I regard this system

DANIEL WEBSTER. 207

as by far the gi-eatest political blessing ever given by Provi-
dence to any people. To it I trace all our happiness and pros-
perity. In this day of onr highest prosperity, when our foun-
tains are all full, and our streams running over, do not let a
sister State rashly overturn the institutions which are the
sources of our happiness. How painful is the crisis which
seeks disunion, and which would split us up into disgraced and
bleeding fragments. This nullification, if it prevail, will yet
meet a tremendous retribution, in the execrations of all future
times." This is all proper, decent, and senatorial ; it is alsa
just to the character of its author, who gained as much in-
fluence in the Senate from his estimable moral qualities, as
from his intellectual endowments.

Mr. Brown of North Carolina, followed Mr. Frelinghuysen,
and took his stand, he said, on the reserved rights of States.
*' I repudiate the doetine of nullification. I repudiate also the
high-toned doctrine of the Federal party, I believe it is to
that high-toned doctrine that we are to attribute nullification."
He contended that it was by an improper pressure of the
federal government on the rights of the States, and by its
exercise of doubtful powers, that South Carolina had been
compelled to take the defiant position she had assumed;
which, if not justifiable, was susceptible of great palliation.
" Proud as I am" — he said in conclusion — " of the achieve-
ments which have been performed under the star-spangled
banner ; proud as I am of the stars and stripes which have
fluttered in every sea and every clime j anxious as I am for

•^^^ CHAPTER X.

tlie glory of tlie country; yet God forbid that these stars and
stripes, which have been heretofore the rallying point of hero-
ism, should now float over the mangled corses of our bleeding
countrymen. God forbid that our country should undergo
this sad and disastrous revolution ; for he believed, whenever
that should take place, not only the liberties of this country,
but the best and brightest hopes of the civilized world, would
be destroyed for ever." " ' " . ^

Mr. Holmes, of Maine, then took the floor. Mr. Holmes
would have been considered well qualified for the Senate, had
he never been Senator ; but what he gained in position, he lost
in reputation. His bearing, manner, and speech, all wanted
dignity. His wit, of which he had no inconsiderable portion,
was coarse, and even vulgar ; and his manner too often de-
generated into buffoonery. But he had quickness of parts,
and, what does not always accompany them, a retentive
memory. If he did not originate much, he easily apprehended
the merit of another's speech, and, from recollection and
power of combination, was able to fashion one of his own. He
was good, too, at repartee, and made himself formidable to
those who feared his ridicule.

There was little he said in the course of his speech on this
occasion worthy to be translated. As an example of his ar-
gimientative manner, the following passage may be given :
" This is a Constitutional Government, and, therefore, it is
sovereign as far as to all powers delegated to it. This is the
general understanding of the people ; and the idea of nullifi-

DANIEL WEESTER. 20^^

cation and reserved rights is almost everywliere ridiculed by
them. I saw a story in a Tennessee newspaper which I will
relate, as apposite. A law of that State respecting marriage
required the publication of the banns some time previous to
marriage. The time appeared too long to one individual, and
he determined to oppose the law and set himself down on his
reserved rights. The law did not prohibit marriage, which
would be jflatly unconstitutional, but it delayed it, and was
therefore injurious. He accordingly nullified the law."

The ofreat merit of Mr. Holmes' aro-um-ent on this occasion
was its brevity ; some of the other speeches wanted even that.

Mr. Tyler followed Mr. Holmes, on the opposite side of the
question. " The pernicious doctrine," said he, " that this is
a National and not a Federal Government, has received coun-
tenance from the late 23roclamation and message of the Presi-
dent. The People are regarded as one mass, and the States
as constituting one nation. I desire to know when this
chemical process occurred .? When were the States welded
together in one mass ? Was it before or since the K evolution .''
At what time was Virginia fused into an integral mass with

the other States ?

* ^ * * * * *

This amalgamating doctrine is followed out into most sin-
gular consequences. Sir, it is said that I do not represent on
this floor the State of Yiroinia, but the United States. Straua-e
hallucination ! This I must consider as vital in its conse-

vjuences. It brings into question the great right of instructions ;
"lO

210 CHAPTER X.

for if it be true, tlie State of Delaware lias as full and aLsoluto
control over my actions as the State of Virginia. No, sir, I
repudiate this doctrine ; I owe no responsibility, politically
speaking, elsewhere than to my State And if any Senator
from that State should dare oppose lior instructions, I might
say, with perfect confidence, to quote the remarks of one of
her most gifted sons, that '^ if he would not be instructed in
his seat, he would very soon be instructed out of it." The
doctrine is founded in a gross misconception of the nature and
character of our institutions."

This speech reflects the style and character of Mr. Tyler —
the defects and merits alike of both. Occasionally, there will
be found a fitful energy of expression and purpose, but close
beside, an obscurity of phrase, and a seeming hesitation, that
throw an air of insincerity upon the sentiments uttered. G-reat
fluency of speech, to the frequent detriment of ideas — an over-
flowing of historical illustration, to the partial submersion of
the subject-matter — forgetfulness of general interests in the
intense contemplation of personal objects — argument! often
without conclusion, and conduct often without motive — such
seem to have been the distine-uisliino; characteristics of Mr.
Tyler's speech and public life.

His argument and course, on this eventful occasion, neither
great in themselves, were the -causes of great results. They
revealed a half-formed inclination to secede from the embodied
idea of Democracy ; an inclination that grew into a pui^pose,
and thence into action, within a brief period, to such a devel-

DAMEL WEBSTER. 211

opement, that tlie Wliigs, a few years after, used liis name as
leaven, to produce fermentation among the State Riglits' con-
stituency of the South. The fermentation ensued, and the
Whigs gained their less than Phyrrus-victory'^ of 1S40.

" I "would," said Mr. Tyler, in his peroration, " that I had
but moral influence enough to save my country in this hour of
peril. If I know myself, I would peril all, everything that I
hold most dear, if I could be the means of stilling the agitated
billows. I have no such power ; I stand here, manacled in a
minority, whose efforts can avail but little. You, who arc the
majority, have the destinies of the country in your hand. If
war shall grow out of this measure, you alone are responsible.
I will wash m}'- hands of the business. Rather than give my
aid, I would surrender my station here, for I aspire not to
imitate the rash boy who sat fire to the Ephcsian dome. No,
sir, I will lend no aid to the passage of this bill. I had almost
said that ' I had rather be a dog and bay the moon than such
a Roman.' I will not yet despair. Rome had her Curtius ;
Sparta her Leonidas ; and Athens her band of devoted pa-
triots ; — and shall it be said that the American Senate contains
not one man who will step forward to rescue his country in
this her moment of peril ? Although that man may never
wear an earthly crown, or sway an earthly sceptre, eternal fame
shall wreathe an evergreen around his brow, and his name

* " Another such victory, and we are ruined," Phyrrus said, of his
triumph over the Romans. '

212 CHAPTER X.

sliall rank witli those of the proudest patriots of the proudest
climes."

Mr. Tyler makes a liberal use of Plutarch in his speech.
There are, indeed, more Greeks and Eomans in it than
Americans. It is a fault (or virtue) common to his State.*

Mr. Clayton followed, and ably refuted, Mr. Tyler. In
answer to Mr. Tyler's declaration that he was a Senator of
Virginia, and not of the United States, Mr. Clayton said :
" Sir, were it not for sheer compassion towards some of those
gentlemen, who indulge us so often with extravagant declama-
tion about State power and State supremacy, it would be well
to ring the truth daily in their ears, until they are cured of
these diseased imaginations, that neither the " Old Dominion,"
nor even the " Empire State" herself, could singly, and suc-

^ Gen Harrison was a native of Virginia and received liis education
there. To his last day, he never recovered from Plutarch. His Inau-
gural Message proves the duration of his attachment. Plutarch's heroes
would have appeared therein in still greater number, but for an untimely
fate that kept them out. -^ - . " . ^

It was said at the time, that the morning before the Message was de-
livered, the Secretary of State elect was met, by a friend, walking in the
vicinity of the White House, in no little apparent perturbation. " What
is the matter with you, this morning, Mr. Webster ?" inquired his friend •
"you seem agitated." "Agitated, sir! and who would not feel agitated,
that had committed the murder I have this morning ?" " Murder ! Mr.
Webster ?" " Aye, sir, murder ; murder, with malice aforethought, of
I know not how many Greeks and Romans J ^ , - -,

There is no authority, however, but rumor for this story.

DANIEL WEBSTER.

213

cessfully, measure strengtli with one of the second-rate powers
of Europe. The gentleman from Virginia, who has filled his
present station with so much honor to himself and usefulness
to his country, denies that he is a Senator of the United States,
and asserts that he is only a Senator of Virginia. He denies
the yery existence of such a character as that of a Senator of
the United States. Each member here, in his view, is bound
to legislate for his own State, and can represent no other.
But where is the clause in the Constitution which recognizes a
Senator of Virginia, of Delaware, or of any other single State,
in this hall ? This is not the Senate of Virginia, but of the
United States. The honorable member says he acts here only
in obedience to the wishes of Virginia ; that he yields obedience
to this Government only because Virginia wills it. The Con-
stitution and laws of the United States have no binding force
with him from any other cause than this, that Virginia com-
mands him to obey them. The result of all this doctrine is,
that whenever Virginia wills it, he will violate this Constitution,
and set these laws at defiance. In opposition to all this, hear
the creed of a national republican : I obey this Constitution,
and act as Senator of the United States under it, because I
have sworn to support that Constitution. I hold myself bound,
while acting in my station here to legislate for the benefit of
the whole country, not merely for that of any section of it ;
and, in the discharge of my duty, I will look abroad throughout
this wide Republic, never sacrificing the interests of any one
part of it merely to gratify another, but always dealing out

214 CHAPTER X.

and distributing equal justice to all my countrymen , wlierever
they may be located, or by whatever title they may be distin-
guished from each other." ' -.

The eloquent patriotism of these and kindred remarks
gained Mr. Clayton deserved consideration, among all parties.
The liberality of his views was no greater, in the meantime,
than the force of his argument. Oftentimes, during his speech,
he was interrupted by Mr. Calhoun, who sought to obviate the'
eifect of his logic, by the interposition of ingenious objections.

On Mr. Clayton's conclusion, Mr. Mangum obtained the
floor, and moved to postpone the farther consideration of the
bill till the next day. He wished to speak upon the bill, but
was too unwell this day. '

The Senate, however, did not wish to postpone the discus-
sion of the bill. The majority thought its immediate passage
necessary. The threatening attitude of South Carolina was to
be met by an immediate preparation on the part of the gene-
ral government, for all emergencies. The President's particu-
lar friends in the Senate urged action. Forsyth, G-rundy, and
Wilkins contended that the debate should go on. Mr. Cal-
houn said that the Senator from North Carolina was the only
member of the Committee on the Judiciary who had objected
to the bill. He would appeal to the Senate, therefore, whe-
ther, on the score of justice, the gentleman was not entitled
to such indulgence as he might require to enable him to give a
satisfactory exposition of the reasons by which he was actuated,
the more especially as he appeared so unwell.

DANIEL WEBSTER. _ 215

Jtlr. "Wilkins replied tliat lie would be tlic last man to force
tlie o-entleman froDi Nortli Carolina, for whom he had a rfreat
respect, into the discussion without mature preparation. But
he thought the gentleman was fully prepared to debate the
q^usstion at this time. .- , - .

I^Ir. Calhoun said that the Senator from PennsylTania could
not have heard the Senator from North Carolina ask the post-
ponement on account of his indisposition.

Mr. King, of Alabama, made the same suggestion ; but Mr
Wilkins replied to neither.

Mr. Wilkins, in truth, displayed great eagerness to get the
bill through ; and some said at the time, from interested
motives. " He votes for this great measure," said a Senator
in this debate, " because it confers power on one, ' who never
abused power.' He goes for the man, and sustains the prin-
ciple for the sake of the man." He afterwards went for the
mission to Eussia, and got it ; as the opponents of this bill
contended, for his ready services on this occasion. But de-
traction is as inseparable from distinguished merit, as the
shadow from the substance.

The intellectual snarrins; continued, and afforded relief to
the graver discussion of the bill. Mr. Webster said there
was no occasion for postponement. The bill could make pro-
gress, and the gentleman from North Carolina could be heard
on any other day as well as this. But few days remained of
the session, and if the bill was to be definitely acted upon, it
could only be done by a determination to sit out the discus-

216 CHAPTER X.

sion. The Senate should sit till late in the evening, for at
the rate of a speech a clay, the bill would never he got through.

Mr. Calhoun rej^lied, that if any other Senator, on either
side of the house, was ready to go on with the debate, he
would make no objection to sit out the day. But he thought
the gentleman from North Carolina was, in justice, entitled to
the indulgence of the Senate. --. .<■

Mr. King said, that if the gentleman from Massachusetts
wished to deliver his sentiments on the bill, he hoped the
motion would be withdrawn for that purpose, and he would be
happy to listen to the gentleman to as great length as he might
desire. - .

Mr. Webster — ^' The gentleman from Alabama is ex-
tremely kind ; and his kindness is justly appreciated. The
gentleman from Massachusetts fully understands the gentle-
man from Alabama ; but he has no disposition to address the
Senate at present, nor, under existing circumstances, at any
other time, on the subject of this bill." ^ ■^

The argument, thus far, Mr. Webster thought pre-
ponderated in favor of the bill. His aid, therefore, was not
called for ; and he reserved it till it should be needed. But
the friends of the President, ir the Senate, who watched every
word and movement of friend and foe, were alarmed, fearing
lukewarmness on his part ; ind some left their seats, and
crossed over to consult with him.

The motion to postpone was lost ; and Mr. Mangum took
the floor on the bill. But after proceeding for fifteen minutes,

DAk[EL WEBSTER 2Vi

or thereabouts, he yielded the floor to Mr. P Dmdexter, whe
moved that the Senate adjourn, as the gentleman froui
North Carolina was evidently too much indisposed to proceed.
The Senate, however, refused to adjourn, and Mr. Mangum
resumed his aro-ument. ,

He drew a parallel between the course pursued by the
British Government previous to the war of the Revolution, and
that which was now pursued by the Greneral Grovernment
against South Carolina ; a parallel, however, that like parallel
lines, mio-ht run on forever without meetino\ After continuintr
in this strain for some time, Mr. Mangum again gave way to
Mr. Sprague, of Maine, who moved an adjournment, which
was lost by one vote.

Mr. Mangum recommenced his argument, and continued it
till 4 o'clock, when Mr. Tjdcr, premising that the Senate had
by this time sufficiently indicated its intention to sit till a late
hour every afternoon, for the purpose of bringing the debate
to a close, moved that the Senate adjourn.

Mr. Webster would not oppose the motion, but rose to give
notice that, for one, he should vote hereafter against any mo-
tion to adjourn before six o'clock, till the bill was disposed of.

The main action of the drama was relieved by occasional

episodes, as in the Grrecian Epic, where, while the armies

pause, valiant spirits on either side get up a single combat.

Of such nature was the passage-at-arms between Grrundy of

Tennessee, and Poindexter of Mississippi, upon the subject of

the military orders of the President. The most intense cu-
10*

218 CHAPTER X.

riosity and deepest silence prevailed in relation to the Presi-
dent's intentions of a forcible demonstration against South
Carolina. It was currently reported that the General had
ordered a portion of the fleet to occupy Charleston harbor, and
had given instructions of a belligerent character to the com-
mander of the military forces at and near Charleston. Poin-
dexter, who affected to assume a certain kind of leadership in
the debate against the bill, introduced a resolution, calling
upon the President for information of his action or intentions.
He had been an early Jackson-man, but had ratted^ since his
election to the Senate. He never was constant to a man or
principle long. He embraced a friendship or measure with
vehemence and gave them up with precipitancy. He hated
cordially, and enjoyed the faculty, to a greater extent than
almost any other man, of inspiring cordial hatred. All he
aimed at seemed to be notoriety ; or, if he sought it not, it
came to him, gratuitously.

Partly to indulge this passion, and partly to exasperate
Gen. Jackson — between whom and himself there raged a per-
sonal warfare, helium plusqua?}i civile, as Lucan has it — he
threw this resolution into the Senate, and provoked a discus-
sion with Mr. Grundy, against whom, as the nearest friend of
the President, his remarks were mostly directed.

He said, that when the day before he introduced the resolu-
tion, he thought he had placed the gentleman from Tennessee
in an awkward predicament, and now he was sure of it. The
gentleman and his friends, after having consulted their pillows,

DANIEL WFBSTER. 219

bad come to the Senate Tvitli a determination to d' stroy Lis
resolution, if in tlieir po-wer to do so. He was sorry to see
tliis opposition to his motion ; it seemed to be indicative of a
disposition to sbroiid in secrecy the movements of tbe Execu-
tive autboritv. '' Sir," said be, ^' tbere Vv^as a drawino-room
last nigbt, and great anxiety was manifested on tbe part of
some gentlemen, to get tbe ear of tbe President."

Mr. G riindy did not pretend to understand wbat tbe gentle-
man from Mississippi meant by bis allusion to tbe drawing-
room. He could approacb tbe President as one of bis consti-
tutional advisors, and was not obli^-ed to take advantaa;e of tlie
social character of tbe drawing-room, to r'eacb bis ear.

In regard to tbe information tbe Senator from Mississippi
songlit, be would suppose some most respectable citizens of
Soutb Carolina bad communicated intellio-ence to tbe Execu-
tive, uj)on wbicb secret orders bad been issued ; does tbe
Senator ask tbe names of tbese citizens, and all tbe circum-
stances of tbeir disclosures } ' ~ ^ - •

" All, all !" said Mr. Poindextcr ; " tbe wbole of tbem."

'^ But would not sucb disclosure," asked Mr. G-rundy, " lead
to tbe immediate sbedding of blood .^"

" I care not if it does," replied Mr. Poindexter. ^' Let us
have tbe information, no matter wbat are tbe consequences."

But Mr. Grundy was not disposed to gratify tbe truculent
curiosity of tbe Senator from Mississippi, and after some good-
natured bantering on bis part, and tbe expression of some more
indignation on tbe part of tbe Mississippian, the discussion was

220 CHAPTER X.

cut short by the action of tlie Senate, in taking np tLe special
order of the clay.

Of the nature of an ej^isode, too, was the scene that occurred
when Mr. Webster undertook to prove that the bill and the
message of the President contained the same identical recom'
mendations ; and that, consequently, anathemas instead of
being confined to the first, should be directed equally against
the latter. - _ - ■ . '

A warm controversy had risen on the measure, he said,
and it was but proper to understand between what parties )t
existed. '• ' - '- ; ■ ^- ,

Soon after the declaration of war by the United States
against England, an American vessel fell in at sea with one of
England, and gave information of the declaration. The En-
glish master inquired, with no little warmth of manner and
expression, why the United States had gone to war with En-
gland } The American answered him, that difficulties had
existed, for a good while, between the two Grovernments, and
that it was at length thought, in America, to be high time for
the parties to come to a better understanding.

" I incline to think, Mr. President," continued Mr. Web-
ster, " that a war has broken out here, which is very likely,
before it closes, to bring the parties to a better understanding.
* * * Now, sir, let it be known, once for all, that this is
an Administration measure ; that it is the President's own
measure ; and I pray gentlemen to have the goodness, if they
call it hard names^ and talk boldly against its friends, not to

DANIEL WEBSTER. 221

overlook its source. Let them attack it, if they choose to at-
tack it, in its oriofin."

Messrs. Tyler, Bibb, and Brown, of North Carolina, an-
swered with some heat — the latter particularly — the sugges-
tion that they hesitated to denounce the message, from fear of
its author. Mr. Tyler said it was not the first time he had
been placed in opposition to measures of which the President
was the source, or of which the President approved. If the
President has sent a Botany Bill, he would call it so, and as
such oppose it. Mr. Bibb said, if the President desired that
any such power should be given him, as the bill before them
gave, he could find no expression of such desire in the mes-
sage. He could not imagine that any President would have
the daring effrontery to ask of Congress to give him such
powers. Mr. Brown said, he had never looked to any quarter
for instructions in regard to his vote on this bill, neither to
the President nor Judiciary Committee — and he should not.

These interludes — if thus they may be called — added much
to the interest of the main piece. They gave time, too, to
the actors in the drama to better prepare their j)arts, to study
their speeches, arrange their dresses, and — a thing not unat-
tended to even by Senators — prepare good houses. For
Senators, no more than professional actors, love not to appsar
to " empty boxes."

When the curtain again rose, in the regular piece, Mr.
Dallas, of Pennsylvania, appeared, and spoke his speech
" trippingly on the tongue." His personal appearance aided

222 CHAPTER X.

liim no little. It waS;, punctually, that of a gentleman. His
rubicund countenance, surmounted by hair white as the snow-
flakes, bleached, but not thinned ; his elaborate and improving
manner, self-respecting yet not presumptuous ; his scrupulous
dress, subdued voice, and harmonious gesture, all bespoke the
man of cultivated intellect and habits ; and, in an assembly
like the Senate of those days, could not fail to produce an
earnest impression. ~"''' ■ '• • ' ' -

His language was consonant with his manner and bearing ;
it illustrated both. '' Let us," said he, " inquire into the
nature of our political structure. What is this political be-
ing— the Union, commonly styled ^ the United States P A
consolidated multitude ? Certainly not a federation merely of
totally distinct masses of people ? Certainly not. It is some-
thing then of a complicated character between these two, or
combining them both. To be justly appreciated, it must be
well understood, and not flimsily considered. Generalization
and vague abstractions delude us, and necessarily lead to false
conclusions. No one denies or doubts that the Constitution
was formed by the people of the United States ; and no one
denies or doubts that it acts directly upon the people. Its f
origin and action are therefore popular or national. But ^as
it not formed by the people as distinct aggregates called States
in their sovereign capacities ^ Clearly it was. And is it not
carried on, through some of its essential processes, by the
separate States as sovereigns ^ Clearly it is. Its origin and
action are then federative. Thus it is both popular and fede-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 22J

ratlve ; or, in other words, it is an entire national government,
of which both the union and the distinctiveness of the sove-
reign States are fundamental and inherent qualities."

Mr. Miller, of South Carolina, followed Mr. Dallas, in a
speech of some power, against the hill ; and Mr. Hives, of
Virginia, followed Mr. Miller, in favor of the bill. It was
Mr. Pdves maiden speech, and a Yerj creditable effort. He
came out from the shadowy, spectral region of abstractions,
where no life is visible, into the world of sense and action.
There was a meaning and warmth in his language that gained
sympathy and response in the breasts, no less than in the un-
derstandings, of his hearers. He nationalized Virginia, giving
it more than " a local habitation and a name."

It was late in the evening of the fourteenth day of Feb-
ruary, that Mr. Rives concluded his speech. On his resuming
his seat, Mr. Calhoun said he had waited to see if any other
member of the committee desired to speak on the bill. Wish-
ing to be heard himself on its merits, he would move that tho
Senate adjourn — and the Senate adjourned.

CH APTEK XI

It was on the fifteenth day of February, 1S33, that Mr.
Calhoun addressed the Senate against the Force Bill. All
were silent as he rose, and, intent upon every word he uttered,
directed their eyes and ears towards him. There was no one
in the country at the time whose every act was watched with
so much care. He was, indeed, an object of fearful curiosity.
What he meditated was unknown in those days, and may
never be revealed. But the current and specious voice at-
tributed to him no less than treason against the government,
It was known he was ambitious ; and, in the pursuit of his
ambitious projects, it was believed he was unscrupulous.
" What thou would'st highly, that would'st thou holily," was
the confession by Lady Macbeth of her husband's character.
But opinion at this time conceded no such doubtful com-
pliment to Mr Calhoun. It was generally credited that
no consideration of private or public morality, no restriction of
personal or constitutional obligation, no recollections of the
past, or fears of the future could control his mad ambition.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 2'25

Prejudice amounted to a passion against him. The inyectives
hurled against him hy General Jackson, and the accusations
which followed them, in every multiplied form, rendered him
an object of equal aj^prehension and hatred. He was denomi-
nated a Catiline by the organ of the administration, and by
the people generally was feared as such.

The vulgar are disposed to confound moral with per-
sonal attributes ; to judge of character or intention from
physical developments ; to believe what seems must be the
logical and inevitable cause of what is. It is a con elusion ^
however, not confined to the vulgar, the illiterate, the unin-
formed— but shared, in a degree at least, by intelligent and
observant men. Mr. Calhoun's appearance had answered well
the preconceived idea of a conspirator. Tall, gaunt, and of a
somewhat stoop in figure, with a brow full, well formed, but
receding; hair, not reposing on the head, but starting from it
like the Gorgon's ; a countenance, expressive of unqualified
intellect, the lines of which seemed deeply gullied by intense
thought ; an eye that watched everything and revealed
nothing, ever inquisitive, restless, and penetrating ; and a
manner emphatic, yet restrained, determined but cautious ;
persons who knew not his antecedents nor his actual position,
would have pointed him out as one that might meditate great
and dangerous pursuits. To an audience, already embittered,
he seemed to realize the full idea of a conspirator.

Yet the purity of his private life, his high integrity, and

scorn of meanness in man or thing, gained him a warmth of

9*

226 CHAPTER xr.

personal regard tliat nearly overrode the indignation felt for
ills contemplated or suspected plans. Opinion, at times, hesi-
tated between hatred and admiration ; a turbulent condition
of the mind not suited to a dispassionate view of the object of
its contemplation, but calculated, nevertheless, to increase the
interest and anxiety felt for it. . f - -*

The isolation and even danger of his position were not in-
jurious to the infiiience of his eloquence. Those who hated
him most, and could feel no sympathy in his cause, yet
pardoned those who felt. A great man struggling with adver-
gity, was a spectacle the gods loved to contemplate, and which
painters of every age have been always eager to espress.
There is in it so much of moral sublimity, so much of soul-
subduing grandeur, so nuich of more than mere mortal mag-
nanimity, that the heart is carried awa}^, as by a kind of
isurprise. Our sympathies are too strong for our convictions.

Mr. Calhoun rose and addressed the Senate. '' Mr. Presi-
dent, I know not which is most objectionable, the provisions of
this bill, or the temper in which its adoption has been urged.
If the extraordinary powers with which the bill proposes to
clothe the Executive, to the utter prostration of the Constitu-
tion and the rights of the States, be calculated to impress our
minds with alarm at the rapid progress of despotism in our
country, the zeal with which every circumstance calculated
to misrepresent or exaggerate the conduct of Carolina in the
controversy is seized on, with a view to excite hostility against
her, but too plainly indicates the deep decay of that brotherly

DANIEL WEBSTER. 227

feeling wliicli once existed between tliese States, and to which
we are indebted for our beautiful federal sj^stem."

A more ingenious, yet seemingly less studied exordium will
scarcely be found recorded in parliamentary annals. The
orator, in simple but artful words, transposes entirely the re-
lations of parties ; and, with an assurance that an auditor
would not dare to suppose aught but conscious innocence
could command, demands sympathy for himself and Carolina,
as suffering wrong. The earnest manner of the speaker, tho
sincerity of his countenance and his voice, and his well-known
candor avoided the suspicion of intended imposition on his
part. It was evident to all that he sought to produce belief
from what himself believed. He could not change facts, but
lie could interpret them. He was not an impostor but
fanatic. ^ , - ,.

His whole argument assumes the innocence of South Caro-
lina. Nothing could be more erroneous, he said, than that
South Carolina claimed the right to violate any provision of
the Constitution. Her object was not to resist laws made in
pursuance of the Constitution, but those made without its
authority, and which encroach on her reserved powers. She
did not claim even the right of judging of the delegated
powers, but of those that were reserved ; and to resist the
former when they encroach upon the latter.

He illustrated his position with infinite ability, and with
great beauty of language. In truth, the curious felicity of
his diction threw such a dazzling lustre upon his sentiments

228 CHAPTER XI,

as to conceal tlieir real character. Forms of beauty gained
tlie senses, to the exclusion of sober reflection ; just as the
appearance of Helen, in her immortal loveliness, overcame the
matured convictions of Priam's counsellors. .

In an earlier part of this book, some allusion was made to
Mr. Calhoun's warm advocacy of the protective Tariff of 1816,
and of the speech he made on the passage of that measure.
It is but fair to admit his explanation of his conduct on that
occasion, as expressed in his speech at this time. His speech
then, he said, was an impromptu. It was delivered at the
request of a friend, when he had not previously the least in-
tention of addressinir the House. " He came to me," said Mr.
Calhoun, " when I was sitting at my desk writing, and said
that the House was falling into some confusion, accompanying
it with a remark that I knew how difficult it was to rally so
large a body when once broken on a tax-bill, as had been ex-
perienced during the late war. Having a higher opinion of
my influence than it deserved, he requested me to say some-
thing to prevent the confusion. I replied that I was at a loss
what to say ; that I had been busily engaged on the currency,
which was then in great confusion, and which, as I stated, had
been particularly under my charge, as chairman. He repeated
his request, and the speech which the Senator from Pennsyl-
vania, Mr. Dallas, has complimented so highly was the result."

The bill of 1816 being a revenue bill was, of course, con-
stitutional ; in urging it, did he commit himself to that system
of oppression since grown up, and which has for its object the

DANIEL WEBSTER. 229

enriching of one portion of tlie country at the expense of the
other ? . •

Mr. Calhoun contended that it was as a friend to the re-
served powers of the States, Gen. Jackson was so warmly
supported at the South in the canvass of 1S2S. His election
was hailed as their security. But the very event on which
they had built their hopes had been turned against them ; and
the very person to whom they had looked as a deliverer, and
whom, under that impression, South Carolina had striven for
so many years to elevate to power, had become the most
powerful instrument in the hands of his and their bitterest op-
ponents, to put down them and their cause.

" Scarcely had he been elected," said Mr. Calhoun, ''' when
it became apparent, from the organization of his Cabinet, and
other indications, that all our hopes of relief through him were
blasted. The admission of a single indicidual into the Cabinet j
under the circumstances which accompanied the admission,
threw all into confusion. The mischievous influence over the
President throu2;h which this individual was admitted into the
Cabinet, soon became apparent. Instead of turning his eyes
forward to the period of the payment of the public debt, which
was then near at hand, and to the present dangerous political
crisis, which was inevitable, unless averted by a timely and
wise system of measures, the attention of the President was
absorbed by mere party arrangements, and circumstances too
disreputable to be mentioned here^ except by the most distant
allusion."

230 CHAPTER XI.

Few persons, among our public men, have been so careful
to avoid personalities in debate as Mr. Callioun. Notwith-
standing the wrongs, fancied or real, he had suffered, or sup-
posed himself to have suffered, from Mr. Yan Buren, I recollect
now no other occasion in which he made, in public debate,
any hostile allusion to that gentleman, or indulged, indeed, in
language of abuse towards any personal or political adversary.
This, in a country and age where personal criminations and
recriminations, if not defended on principle, are tolerated and
even encouraged by general practice, is no ordinary praise.

Of the accusation against him in the President's Proclama-
tion, that he had been governed in his late course by feelings
of disappointed ambition, he spoke in terms more of sorrow
than anger. It ill became the Chief Magistrate, he said, to
make such a charge. His whole career refuted it. The doc-
trine which he now sustained he had advocated from the
passage of the Act of 1828, " the bill of abominations." When
that bill came from the other House to the Senate, the almost
universal impression was, that its fate would depend upon his
casting vote. It was known, as the bill then stood, that the
Senate was nearly equally divided ; and as it was a combined
measure, originating with the politicians and manufacturers,
and intended as much to bear upon the Presidential election
as to protect manufacturers, it was believed that, as a stroke
of political policy, its fate would be made to depend upon his
vote, in order to defeat Gren. Jackson's election as well as his
own. The friends of Gen. Jackson were alarmed, and he

DANIEL WEBSTEK 231

(Mr. Calhoun) was earnestly entreated to leave the chair, in
order to avoid the responsibilitj, under the plausible argument,
that if the Senate should be equally divided, the bill would be
lost without the aid of his casting vote. The reply to this
entreaty was, that no consideration, personal to himself, could
induce him to take such a course ; that he considered the
measure as of the most dangerous character, calculated to
produce the most fearful crisis ; that the payment of the public
debt was just at hand, and that the great increase of revenue
which it would pour into the treasury would accelerate the
approach of that period ; and that the country would be placed
in the most trying of all situations, with an immense revenue,
without the means of absorption upon any legitimate or con-
stitutional object of appropriation, and would be compelled to
submit to all the corrupting consequences of a large surplus,
or to make a sudden reduction of the rates of duties, which,
would prove ruinous to the very interests which were then
forcing the passage of the bill. Under these views he deter-
mined to remain in the chair, and, if the bill came to him, to
give his casting vote against it, and, in so doing, to give his
reasons at large ; but, at tlie same time, he informed his
friends that he would retire from the ticket, so that the elec-
tion of Gen. Jackson might not be embarrassed by any act of
his. *' Sir," said Mr. Calhoun, " I was amazed at the folly
and infatuation of that period. So completely was Congress
absorbed in the game of ambition and avarice, from the double
impulse of the manufacturers and politicans, that none but a.

232 CHAPTER XI.

few appeared to anticipate the present crisis at which now all
are alarmed, but which is the inevitable result of what was
then done." As to himself, he had clearly foreseen what had
since followed. The road of ambition lay open before him ;
lie had but to follow the corrupt tendency of the times, but ha
had chosen to tread the rugged path of duty.

The character of this extraordinary man has been the themo
alike of extravagant praise and obloquy, as zealous friendship
or earnest enmity have held the pen. His sun has lately sunk
below the horizon ; it went down in all the splendor of noon-
tide, and the effulgence of its setting yet dazzles the mind too
much, to justify an impartial opinion. But whatever may be
the diversity of opinion as regards his patriotism, or the integ-
rity of his purpose, no one who respects himself will deny him
the possession of rare intellectual faculties ; of a mind capa-
cious and enlightened ; of powers of reasoning almost miracu-
lous ; of unequalled prescience ; and of a judgment, when
nnwarped by prejudice, most express and admirable.

On this, the greatest occasion of his intellectual and political
life, he bore himself proudly and gloriously. He appeared to
hold victory at his command, and yet determined, withal, to
show that he deserved it. There was a streno;th in his arsru-
ment that seemed the exhaustion of thought, and a frequency
of nervous diction most appropriate for its expression. The
extreme n:iobility of his mind was felt everywhere and imme-
diate. It passed from declamation to invective, and from in-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 233

vectlve to argument, rapidly, but not confusedly, esciting and
fillino- tlie im agination of all.

In his tempestuous eloquence, be tore to pieces tbe argu-
ments of bis opponents, as tbe burricane rends tbe sails.
Notbing withstood tbe ardor of bis mind ; ud sophistry, bow-
ever ingenious, puzzled him ; no rhetorical ruse escaped bis
detection. He overthrew logic that seemed impregnable, and
demolished the most compact theory, in a breath.

No little portion of the speech was directed to the conside-
ration of the philosophy of government, and the history of
free institutions, — subjects which tbe orator bad studied to
complete mastery, and was amj^ly capable to illustrate. He
defended himself against the charge of " metaphysical rea-
soning." As be understood tbe proper use of the term, it
meant the power of analysis and combination. "It is tbe
power," be said, " which raises man above the brute ; which
distinguishes bis faculties from mere sagacity, which he holds
in common with inferior animals. It is this power which has
raised the astronomer from bein<r a mere gazer at the stars to
tbe high, intellectual eminence of a Xewton or La Place, and
astronomy itself, from a mere observation of insulated facts,
into that noble science which displays to our admiration tbe
system of tbe Universe. And shall this high power of tbe
mind, which has effected such wonders when directed to tbe
laws which control the material world, be forever prohibited,
under a senseless cry of metaphysics, from being applied to

tbe mighty purpose of political science and legislation ? I
11

234 CHAPTER xr.

hold tliem to be subject to laws as fixed as matter itself, and
to be as fit a subject for tlie application of tbe highest intel-
lectual power. Denunciation may indeed fall upon the phi-
losophical inquirer into these first principles as it did upon
Galileo and Bacon, when they first unfolded the great discov-
eries which have immortalized their names ; but the time will
come when truth will prevail in spite of prejudice and denun-
ciation, and when politics and legislation will be considered as
much a science as astronomy and chemistry." - .

The crowd was great in the Senate chamber during Mr.
Calhoun's speech ; in the galleries more particularly. "While
he was uttering some of his brilliant periods, in the very tor-
rent, tempest, and whirlwind of his eloquence, a man in the
gallery suddenly confounded the audience by exclaiming, in a
shriek-like voice, '' Mr. President !" and before the presiding
officer could take measures to repress the outrage, he con-
tinued, " Mr. President, something must be done, or I shall
be squeezed to death !" It was sometime before order could
be restored, or the dignity of the Senate re-established. The
ludicrous nature of the interruption affected the gravity of
almost every person present, even of grave Senators ; of all,
perhaps, but the orator, upon whose countenance there passed
not the shade of an emotion. The rigid muscles showed no relax-
ation, but every feature remained unmoved and inflexible. Ho
proceeded as if naught had occurred of singularity, and his
deep and earnest tones soon recalled the minds of the audi-
ence to the subject they had for a moment forgotten.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 235

He spoke parts of two days — concluding at two o'clock of
the second day, as soon as he finished his speech, Mr. Web-
ster took the floor in reply ; universal opinion assuming that
he alone was qualified to follow Mr. Calhoun.

Before Mr. "Webster consented to address the Senate on the
bill, he had demanded the incorporation into it of certain
amendatory provisions. Everything he asked was conceded
by its friends. He prepared, therefore, or redrafted seve-
ral of the most useful sections of the bill ; not those which
looked to the application of military force, but such as pro-
vided for the full exercise of the judicial power of the United
States, notwithstanding the State laws which had been passed
to defeat the exercise of that jurisdiction.

The high and equal rank of these two rivals, — the greatest
intellects, it is not invidious to say, of the whole country, — ■
and the momentous nature of the contest between them drew,
of course, a much greater than ordinary crowd to the Capitol.
Mr. Webster's reply to Hayne had made curiosity more eager
to hear him again ; while the singular position of Mr. Cal-
houn, the doubt of his purposes, and his unrivalled abilities,
served equally to attract multitudes.

The Executive Department of the Government was repre-
sented daily in the Senate during the discussion of this mea-
sure by one or more of its members. The Chief Magistrate,
it is true, conceded to precedence, and withheld his presence
from the open debate. But members of his Cabinet gratified
their own curiosity and his wishes, and apneared among the

236 CHAPTER xr.

audience ; no one of wHom watched the proceedings and the
various speeches with more anxiety than the Secretary of War,
Lewis Cass. He occupied a somewhat hazardous position
An aspirant after greater honors, he saw no certain way to
preserve the present and secure the future. On the one side
the fatal anger of Gren. Jackson threatened to pursue the
slightest defection from his will ; on the other, outraged State
Rights would seek plenary vengeance against the person who
wantonly or weakly assailed them. The first intimidated him
with the loss of present position ; the latter, with the loss of
future pre-eminence. The organ through which the inten-
tions of the President, if hostile to the pretended rights of
States, must yet find expression in voice and act, the Secre-
tary of War felt, that any measure of force, whether aggres-
sive or merely defensive, would excite against his name great
ohloquy at the South. From a due regard to his own inter-
ests, therefore, as well as, undoubtedly, from a warm attach-
ment to the Union, he labored, with great earnestness to har-
monize the conflicting elements ; in which laudable endeavor,
he was zealously seconded, generally, by the rest of the Cabi-
net. ■ . "• ■ - - ■•

After Mr. Webster's reply to Col. Hayne, in which the
general opinion at the time held that the latter was worsted,
Mr. Calhoun, in conversation with a friend, attributed the re-
sult to Mr. Hayne's want of previous training, and of proper
constitutional knowledge ; and intimated that with another
competitor, Mr. Webster might not have borne off the honor

DANIEL WEBSTER. 23;

of the contest so easily. That Mr. Callioun was superior to
Mr. Hayne, alike in natural capacity and acquired knowledge,
will be generally and readily conceded ; but that lie obtained
over Mr. Webster, in the dialectic contest now commemorated,
more of a victory than Col. Hayne, there would be many to
dispute. It needs a poet, it is said, to judge of poetry, and,
reasoning upon the same principle, a constitutional lawyer
alone could safely pronounce upon the merits of a constitu-
tional argument. To estimate with nicety the relative ability
of such profound arguments as those of Mr. Calhoun and Mr.
Webster, must presuppose the power of making an equal one.
Still, if the common judgment may be holden as arbiter — and
to what more certain or more accurate have we to look — there
would be no hesitation in the adjustment of the relative merits
of the two efforts. ■ ' " . -

Mr. Webster, in his speech, confined himself closely to the
argument. Unlike Mr. Calhoun, he indulged neither in per-
sonal explanations nor philosophical observations, which,
however profound and brilliant in themselves, had no perti-
nency to the issue. . .. • '

His statement of Mr. Calhoun's theory sounds like its refu-
tation. " Beginning," he said, " with the original error, that
the Constitution of the United States is nothing but a compact
between sovereign States ; asserting, in the next step, that
each State has a right io be its own sole judge of the extent
of its own obligations, and, consequently, of the constitu-
tionality of laws of Congress ; and, in the next, that it may

238 CHAPTER xr.

oppose whatever it sees fit to declare unconstitiitionalj ai d that
it decides for itself on the mode and lueasure of redress, the
argument arrives at once at the conclusion, that what a State
dissents from, it may nullify ; what it opposes, it may oppose
by force ; what it decides for itself, it may execute by its own
power ; and that, in short, it is itself supreme over the legis-
lation of Congress, and supreme over the decisions of the na-
tional judicature — supreme over the Constitution of the country
— supreme over the supreme law of the land. However it
seeks to protect itself against these plain inferences, by saying
that an unconstitutional law is no law, and that it only opposes
such laws as are unconstitutional, yet this does not, in the
slightest degree, vary the result, since it insists on deciding
this question for itself ; and, in opposition to reason and argu-
ment, in opposition to j)ractice and experience, in opposition
to tlie judgment of others having an equal right to judge, it
says only : ' Such is my opinion, and my opinion shall be my
law, and I will support it by my own strong hand. I denounce
the law. I declare it unconstitutional ; that is enough ; it
shall not be executed. Men in arms are ready to resist its
execution. An attempt to enforce it shall cover the land with
blood. Elsewhere, it may be binding ; but here, it is trampled
under foot.' This, sir, is practical nullification."

Against all such theories, opinions, or heresies, Mr. Webster
maintained, —

I. That the Constitution of the United States is not a
league, coafederacy, or compact, between the people of the

DANIEL WERSTER. 239

several States in tlieir sovereign capacities ; but a Government
proper, founded on tlie adoption of tlic pcoplcj and creating
direct relations between itself and individuals.

II. Tliat no State authority Las power to dissolve those re
lations ; that nothing can dissolve them but revolution ; and
that, consequently, there can be no such thing as secession
without revolution.

III. That there is a supreme law, consisting of the Consti
tution of the United States, acts of Congress passed in pur-
suance of it, and treaties ; and that, in cases not capable of
assuming the character of a suit in. law or equity, Congress
must judge of, and finally interpret, this supreme law, so often
as it has occasion to pass acts of legislation ; and, in cases
capable of assuming, and actually assuming, the character of a
suit, the Supreme Court of the United States is the final in-
terpreter. -

TV. That an attempt by a State to abrogate, annul, or nul-
lify an Act of Congress, or to arrest its operation within her
limits, on the ground that, in her opinion, such law is uncon-
stitutional, is a direct usurpation on the just powers of the
Greneral Grovernment, and on the equal rights of other States ;
a plaki violation of the Constitution, and a proceeding essen-
tially revolutionary in its character and tendency.

These four propositions Mr. "Webster maintained with a
variety of illustration and power of argument that surprised
even those who estimated his abilities most highly. The oc-
casion certainly demanded all the intellect with which he had

240 CHAPTER XI

been endowed. His opponent had given to his argument srwh
an air of plausibility as to deceive many. If he had not suc-
ceeded wholly in making the w^orse aj^pear the better reason,
he had staggered former convictions, and unsettled the most
deliberate belief. All objections to his theory he had refuted
and exposed to ridicule, and no one of his opponents had been
able to recover from his vigorous and well-directed blows.

Within the scope of this work, it would be impossible to
adduce sufficient of Mr. Webster's argument to justify a be-
lief in his positions ; a circumstance, the less to be regretted,
perhaps, since to the general reader his propositions will appear
self-evident truths. Still, no one in pursuit of examples of the
most masterly logic ; no one who seeks to acquire a certain
knowledge of the theory and practice of Constitutional
Law ; no one, in fine, who would behold the dignity of human
reason in its loftiest expression, can safely pretermit the perusal
and study of this great effort. ^^

There was not the opportunity in this speech, as in the
reply to Hayne, for the exhibition of the various powers of the
speaker. Here no sarcasm was required, no humor, no wit,
and no impassioned eloquence. The mind was to be convinced,
not tlie passions excited. The effect was to be permanent,
rather than immediate ; and it was the cause of his country,
not personal gratification, that the orator was to strive to
establish. ^

In the earlier part of his speech, Mr. Webster made an
allusion to his reply to Hayne. " Mr. President," he said,

DANIEL WEBSTER. 241

*' if I considered tlie constitutional question now before us as
doubtfvil as it is important, and if I supposed tliis decision,
either in the Senate or hy the country, was likely to be in-
fluenced in any degree by the manner in which I might now
discuss it, this would be to me a moment of deep solicitude
Such a moment has once existed. There has been a time,
when, rising in this place, on the same questiouj I felt, I must
confess, that something for good or evil to the Constitution of
the country might depend on an eifort of mine. But circum-
stances are changed. Since that day, sir, the public opinion
has become awakened to this great question ; it has grasped
it 5 it has reasoned upon it, as becomes an intelligent and
patriotic community ; and has settled it, or now seems in the
progress of settling it, by an authority which none can disobey
— the authority of the people themselves."

Still it was well, that Mr. Webster put forth unreserved the
energies of his mind on this occasion. Nullification had in
part recovered from the severity of his first blow, and, foster-
ed by Mr. Calhoun, was again rearing its horrid front against
the Union. It might have been successful, but for Mr. Web'
ster's gigantic argument, in theory ; it may be successful
hereafter, but can only be so, since such argument, hj force —
Ko reason but uUimcuratio res;urii — " the last reason of kings"
or republics — can justify it now.

The words of solemn warning with which ho concluded his

argument, cannot be too often heard and repeated ; and could

not be more fitly introduced than now, when the idea of dis-
11*

242 CHAPTER XI.

union seems once more to occupy the weak imagination of
fanaticSj at either extremity of the Union. " Mr. President, if
the friends of nullification should he ahle to propagate their
opinions, and give them practical effect, they would, in my
judgment, prove themselves the most skilful architects of
ruin, the most effectual extinguishers of high-raised expect-
ation, the greatest blasters of human hopes, which any age
has produced. They would stand up to proclaim, in tones
which would pierce the ears of half the human race, that the
last great experiment of representative government had failed.
They would send forth sounds, at the hearing of which, the
doctrine of the divine right of kings would feel, even in its
grave, a returning sensation of vitality and resuscitation.
Millions of eyes, of those who now feed their inherent love of
liberty on the success of the American example, would turn
away from beholding our dismemberment, and find no place on
earth whereon to rest their gratified sight. Amidst the incan-
tations and orgies of nullification, secession, disunion, and
revolution, would be celebrated the funereal rites of constitu-
tional and republican liberty.''

The thronged Senate-chamber, while it listened to the deep
tones of the speaker, as in his most impressive manner he
pronounced this eloquent admonition, surged like the sea.
You saw the undulating motion of the crowd, leaning forward
to catch each word as it fell, and forced back to its original
position. It was late in the evening when the orator got
through his speech. The emotions of the multitude, which

DANIEL WEBSTER. 243

Lad been repressed during the day did not hesitate to find ar-
ticulate and forcible expression Tinder the protecting shadov/s
of night ; and hardly had the speaker concluded his remarks,
before the galleries, rising to a man, gave a hearty, vociferous
cheer, for " Daniel "Webster, the defender of the Constitu-
tion." " - .

Ztlr. Poindexter immediately started to his feet and moved
an adjournment. Eut the presiding officer ordered the galle-
ries to be cleared, refusing to put the motion to adjourn till
after order had been restored ; and then the Senate adjourned.

CHAPTEIl XII.

The debate languislied after tlie conclusion of Mr. Calhoun's
and Mr. Webster's speeclies. The crowd that had filled the
Senate Chamber daily to hear them, gradually thinned. The
public curiosity to listen to the debate, which had grown
stronger from its first opening to the great argument,
reached its highest point at the conclusion thereof, and thence
subsided into its ordinary character of indifference. There
were some good speeches on the subject, however, made later.
Mr. Forsyth made an able argument for the bill, and refuted,
with brief but emphatic logic, the objections urged against it.
He had not prepared himself fully for the discussion, but he
spoke enough to convince his audience of his ability to say
more, equally well. I^Ir, JMiller, of South Carolina, followed
him on the other side, as briafly if not as ably. Speaking of
Mr. Webster's position towards the administration as com-
pared with his position in the Ilayne controversy, he said :
" The Senator from Massachusetts is now the alpha with the
powers that be ; it is not long since he was the omega." Mr.
Poindexter also made a speech. How much or little of other

DANIEL WEBSTER. 245

merit it possessed, it wanted one sadly — the merit of "brevity.
There was but little in his constitutional argument not better
expressed by Mr. Calhoun or Mr. Tyler : in personal invective,
however, he borrowed from neither of those gentlemen. He
drew his inspiration therein from his disposition. Mr. Grundy
spoke with a good deal of plausibility and ingenuity of argu-
ment, particularly against the assumed right of any State to
secede from the Union, at its option. Mr. Ewing of Ohio
followed, and closed the debate. He rose to speak about six
o'clock in the evening, spoke half an hour, and then gave way
to a motion for adjournment. The motion was lost. It v/as
the determination of the manas-ers of the bill to take a vote
upon it before adjournment. Against such intention, ^h\
Calhoun protested. He said that as the debate was closed on
the part of the opponents of the bill, and as there was no dis-
position on their part to delay its passage, he hoped that the
gentlemen on the other side would consent to postpone the
final question until the morning, as the Senate was thin, and a
bill of such importance ought to pass in a full Senate. Several
gentlemen, he said, had retired from indisposition.

Mr. Wilkins rendered a tribute to the liberality of the gen-
tleman from South Carolina, who had postponed his intention
of addressino; the Senate, and had thus facilitated the termina-
tion of the debate. But as the Senate had been notified that
the bill would be uro-ed through this evenino;, and as it was

O <^ 0 7

therefore to be presumed that every Senator was prepared tc

246 CHAPTER XII.

vote, and as tlie public mind was desirous that tliis question
sliould be disposed of, he could not consent to delay.

Mr. Calhoun then moved that the Senate adjourn, but,
after some interlocution with members near him, withdrew the
motion.

Mr. Ewing then resumed, and continued his remarks till
naif-past nine o'clock, when he yielded the floor to Mr
Holmes, who moved an adjournment.

By this time, Senators exhibited conclusive indications of
exhaustion. Some nodded in their seats ; others were strown
upon the sofas behind the bar ; a few had loft the Senate, and
gone to their lodgings. There were none who felt not fatigued,
and almost overborne by the protracted and ardent contest.
But the confidential friends of the President, Messrs. Wilkins
and Grundy, would listen to no entreaty for adjournment.
This was the day, this the hour, to determine the fate of the
bill. Senators had suffered, perhaps, but they could suffer a
little more, for their country. Their merit would be the
greater from their present sacrifice.

Mr. Wilkins demanded the yeas and nays on Mr. Holmes'
motion to adjourn ; which, being taken, stood, thirteen for
adjournment, twenty-three against it.

Mr. Ewing again took the floor, and spoke an hour longer.

In the meanwhile, several Senators, some favorable and some
adverse to the bill, left the Senate, unwilling or unable to
await the termination of the debate ; the two Senators from
Missouri among others, thereby avoiding a record of their vote

DANIEL WEBSTER. 247

As soon as Mr. Ewing concluded his speech, Mr. Webster
demanded the ayes and noes on the passage of the bill
Whereupon Mr. Tyler rose, and moved"* that the Senate ad-
journ. He stated that he had been induced to make the
motion because he saw that several Senators who were opposed
to the bill were absent from their seats, and he thou2;ht that
the bill had better receive its final action early in the morning.

Mr. Wilkins replied that the gentlemen whose seats were
empty, had but a few minutes before withdrawn from the
Senate, and he pre^sunled that, as they must be in the imme-
diate vicinity, they would return in time to vote on the bill.

The motion to adjourn was then lost by the decisive vote of
twenty-seven noes to five ayes.

Mr. Calhoun and some of his friends, who had waited in or
near the Senate till the last hope of delaying action on the
bill was lost, now, with some parade, left the Senate and the
Capitol, having first endeavored to persuade Mr. Tyler to ac-
company them. He replied, he would remain to the crack of
doom, but he would record his vote against this tyrannical
measure — though his vote should be the only one against it.

Finally, all efforts to postpone a vote having failed, the
question on the passage of the bill was taken at half-past eleven
o'clock, and decided as follows :

Yeas. — Bell, Chambers, Clayton, Dallas, Dickerson, Dudley,
Ewing, Foot, Forsyth, Frelinghuysen, Grundy, Hendricks,
Hill, Holmes, Johnston, Kane, Knight, Nandain, Prentiss,
Rives, Robbius, Robbinson, Ruggles, Silsbee, Sprague, Tipton,

248 CHAPTER xrr.

Tomlinson, Waggaman, Webster, Wliite, Wilkins, Wrigbt. —

32. ■ -■ ■ ' •-;■■ /i -

Nay. — John Tyler. ■ ' . ,

And the Senate adjourned at midnight. ■ J

In this list will be found the great name neither of Bento^j ,
Clay, nor Calhoun. It is not known that Mr. Benton ever
assigned a reason for not voting ; but those who are acquainted
with the public and private career of the distinguished Senator,
can well believe that it was from no want of moral courage that
he did not record his name. Mr. Clay stated to the Senate,
the day after the vote, that he found it impossible to breathe
the impTire air of the Senate-chamber after dinner. He had
been twice compelled to absent himself from the Senate in the
evening ; and the night before, he was j^revented from giving
the vote which he would have given with pleasure in favor of
the bill which had then passed. Mr. Calhoun said, that he
had been ansious the night before, the vote should be post-
poned till to-day, that it might be taken in the full Senate.
With this object in view, he had then moved an adjournment,
but the majority of the Senate was inexorable. The only
course that then remained for himself and his friends was, to
vote in a minority which would not contain the strength of the
opposition to the bill, or to leave the Senate ; and they had
determined on the latter as the most correct course, and as
the best calculated to convey an accurate expression of the
feeling of the Senate.

Mr. Clay made no speech upon the bill. There may be

DANIEL WEBSTER. 249

those wlio think his silence distinguished him more than his
participation in the debate could have done ; as the image of
Brutus omitted in the pageant of the conqueror, was considered
more honorable to him than its presence could have been.
And there may be those who think that it indicated faint-
heartedness, or lukewarmness at least, to have been so passive
when such momentous interests were in discussion. Leaving
such persons, if there be such, to the enjoyment of their va-
rious opinion, it may be well to suggest the probable solution
of his taciturnity. It is well known that dm-ing the whole
discussion, the eminent Senator was devoted, with an incessant
and intense application, to the maturing and bringing forward
of his COMPROMISE — a measure which, from its importance, of
principle no less than detail, demanded the entire absorption
of even his intellectual energies. This measure he succeeded
to introdace before the passage of the Force Bill. Its healing
character doubtless tempered the acrimony of debate upon that
bill, and avoided any disastrous results from its passage.
Many wiU contend that the principle and policy of this famous
COMPROMISE were alike wrong, but none will deny to its dis-
tinguif-hed author a magnanimous intention, nor to the measure
itself a conciliatory result. It afforded to both of the two dis-
tinguished parties to this fierce controversy the opportunity of
withdrawal, withoul personal dishonor or civil war — an oppor-
tunity neither was reluctant to embrace.

General Jackson took an early opportunity to express m

250 CHAPTER xir.

person to Mr. Webster, his sincere gratitude for the eminent
services rendered by that gentleman, in such perilous moment,
to his administration ; and Mr. Livingston, the Secretary of
State, repeatedly, and in warm terms, made his own acknow-
ledgments besides. In truth, it was conceded everywhere that,
but for the efforts of Mr. Webster, and of the friends who
rallied under him, the administration would have fallen into a
powerless and pitiable condition ; an object of opprobrium to
its friends, and of safe insult to its foes.

A community of sentiment and action, in this fearful crisis
of our national history, brought G-eneral Jackson and Mr.
Webster into stricter intimacy, social and political, than had
previously ever subsisted between them. Some of the Gene-
ral's friends hoped, and more feared, a closer official relation-
ship. In May of this year, Mr. Webster journeyed West ;
returning in June, he met Mr, Livingston in New York, then
preparing to depart on his mission to France. It was under-
stood at this time, in private and confidential circles, that, be-
fore leaving Washington, Mr. Livingston had had frequent and
earnest conversations with General Jackson in relation to Mr.
Webster's position ; and that he had urged upon him the abso-
lute necessity of securing Mr. Webster's continued support of
his administration. To his suggestions General Jackson gave
a favorable ear and acquiescence ; and authorized Mr. Living-
ston to approach Mr. Webster upon the subject. These
conversations and their result, Mr. Livingston, in his inter-
view with him in New York, communicated to Mr. Webster.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 251

That a seat in the cabinet was at the same time proposed to
Mr. Webster, on the part of the President, through the same
medium of communication, was a belief warmly entertained
by some of the nearest friends of both parties. One fact it is
allowable to mention ; a distinguished Senator, a political and
personal friend of General Jackson, brought Mr. Webster a
list of the intended nominees for offices in the Eastern States,
and asked him to erase therefrom the names of any, personally
objectionable to him. This Mr. Webster declined to do, not
wishing to place himself under any obligations to the adminis-
tration, that might qualify the freedom of his action, either in
support or repudiation of its measures.

On many points of what was then the proposed policy of the
administration, there was no marked difference of opinion be-
tween these two eminent men ; in its foreign policy, particu-
larly, the}'- almost entirely concurred ; but there was a radical
and fatal difference on the great cjuestion of the currency.
The measures G-eneral Jackson thought it necessary to take
to prevent pecuniary loss to to the country from the unchecked
operations of the United States Bank, did not meet Mr.
Webster's concurrence. Indeed, the removal of the govern-
ment deposits from that institution, however justifiable on the
ground of expediency or even necessity, was a measure of
Such formidable energy, as to confound some of the generaPs
longest tried and not most timid supporters. It encountered
Mr. Webster's opposition, and even denunciation. And this
honest difference of opinion, in regard to a matter of tempo-

252 CHAPTER xir.

rary importance, prevented the nnion of tlie two master
spirits of the age, and blasted the patriotic hopes of the coun-
try. • • , . ■""■.•-'■■'

How much of party animosity might have been assuaged, how
much of public good promoted, and national honor how greatly
advanced, by the consummation of such an union ! How high
the tide of public prosperity had risen, with such luminaries

in conjunction! ■ ■ ' ' >

The moral and intellectual attributes of one were the

complement of the other. Not that both did not possess

mental and moral characteristics of the same nature ; but

some one quality would appear more predi)minant in one, and

some other quality, equally distinguished, in the other ; both

more brilliant from contrast. - >

History records few instances of more adamantine will and
inflexibility of purpose, than characterized Andrew Jackson.
Napoleon himself had not greater, nor more intuitive know-
ledge of men, or far-reaching sagacity. "What he willed he
accomplished ; his mind never faltered, and his purpose never
chano-ed.

He was got up on the statuesque model of a hero of Plu-
tarch. His qualities were all clearl}'- and boldly defined ; but
without extravagance or deformity. There was nothing com-
mon-place in his character or thought. He acted and spoke
with the freshness and power of genius. He dared every-
thing ; yet to his dauntless nature there was added a haughti-
ness of spirit that withheld him from vulgar strife. He

DANIEL WEBSTER. 253

rushed to Iils purpose like a torrent from the mountain ; no
obstacle could retard his course, nor opposition restrain his
impetuosity. The fiery vehemence of his will swept every-
thing before it. Men gazed at its resistless career, and gave
way, overcome with apprehension. To oj^pose him was to
encounter destiny.

Such a determined will and fearless nature, with attendant
power, wanted but direction to accomplish miracles of good.

Such direction could have been found in Mr. Webster,
whose comprehensiveness of view, calmness of deliberation,
sagacity, and singleness of purjDOse had admirably qualified
him for a controlling adviser. His intellectual majesty would
have secured the admiration of his great ally, and tempered
the vehemence of his action. He would have had the mind
to plan what the other would have had the heart to execute.
He would have been the engineer to give direction and speed
to the locomotive ; regulating its power, according to the ob-
stacles to be overcome, or the thing to be accomplished.

But no such happiness was reserved for the country. A
strong schism supervened within a year after Mr. Webster's
defence of the administration, between him and the Presi-
dent ; and the country went on in a career of intermittent
disaster.

- After the adjournment of Congress in the spring of this
year (1833,) Mr. Webster visited 'the West. * No conqueror
flushed with recent victories could have had a more triumphal

2.~)4 CHAPTER XII.

reception. His progress was one ovation. Cities poured out
their crowds on his approach, tendering hospitality ; and mu-
nicipal authorities entertained him while he tarried. Invitations
soliciting a visit were sent to him from every State of the
"West, expressed in warm and urgent language. At Buffalo,
a public dinner and other courtesies were extended to him.
His brief visit compelled him to decline the dinner ; but he
addressed the citizens of the place, and was responded to with
enthusiasm. At Pittsburgh, in Pennsylvania, he was re-
ceived with even more marked distinction. The citizens
turned out en masse^ and waited for his arrival at a spacious
grove, where a handsome entertainment was prepared for him.
The mayor of the city, in presenting him to the crowd, ad-
dressed to them these, among other words : " Gentlemen, we
are this day citizens of the Unifed States. The Union is
iSafe, Not a star has fallen from that proud banner around
which our affections have so long rallied. And when, with
this delightful assurance, we cast our eyes back upon the
eventful history of the last year — when we recall the gloomy
apprehensions, and perhaps hopeless despondency, which came
over us, who, gentlemen, can learn, without a glow of enthu-
siasm, that the great champion of the Constitution — that
Daniel "Webster, is now in the midst of us. To his mighty
intellect, the nation, with one voise, confided its cause of life
or death. Ours is a government not of force, but of opinion
The reason of the people must be satisfied before a call to
arms This consideration is it that imparts to intellectual

DANIEL WEBSTER. 255

pre-eminence in the seryice of trutli its incalcnla'ble value.
And hence the preciousness of that adniirahle and unanswer-
able exposition, which has put down, once and foreyerj the
artful sophisms of nullification.'^

In reply, Mr. Webster said, in allusion to General Jackson's
conduct during the perilous crisis of nullification : " Gentle-
men, the President of the United States was, as it seemed to
me, at this eventful crisis, true to his duty. He comprehend-
ed and understood the case, and met it as it was proper to
meet it. While I am as willing as others to admit that the
President has, on other occasions, rendered important services
to the country, and especially on that occasion which has given
him so much military renown, I yet think the ability and de-
cision with which he resisted the disorganizing doctrines of
nullification, created a claim, than which he has none higher^
to the gratitude of the country, and the respect of posterity.
The issuing of the proclamation of the 10th of December^
inspired me, I confess, with new hopes for the duration of the
Republic. I would not be understood to speak of particular
clauses and phrases in the proclamation : but its great and
leading doctrines, I regard as the true and only true doctrines
of the Constitution. They constitute the sole ground on
which dismemberment can be resisted. Nothing else, in my
opinion, can hold us together. While those opinions are en-
tertained, the Union will last ; when they shall be generally
rejected and abandoned, that Union will be at the mercy of a
temporary majority in any one of the States."

25G ^ CHAPTER xir.

At otLer places wliicli he visited he was received with no
Jess consideration. His engagements at home prevented him
from accepting the greater part of the invitations extended
him, and compelled him, reluctantly, to return. ; ~

All this was the grateful response of the people to a meri
torious servant. It was the expression of their opinion of the
value and extent of his services — the voluntary homage of their
heart. These, however, were not the first testimonials of pub-
lic gratitude for great constitutional services Mr. Webster had
received. For his previous effort in defence of the Constitution,
he had been honored with the grateful thanks of some of the
wisest and best men of the country. The year following his
reply to Mr. Hayne, he was invited by a large number of the
most respectable citizens of New York and its vicinity, among
whom were many distinguished gentlemen of both political
parties, to meet them at a festival, offered to him as an ex-
pression of their great gratification at the course he had pur-
sued in that memorable Constitutional contest. Chancellor
Kent, who presided on the occasion, on addressing their guest,
alluded in this felicitous manner to his speech : " It turned the
attention of the public to the great doctrines of natural rights
and national union. Constitutional law ceased to remain
wrapped up in the breasts, and taught only by the responses,
of the living oracles of the law. Socrates was said to have
drawn philosophy from the skies, and scattered it among the
schools. It may, with equal truth, be said, that Constitutional
lawj by means of these Senatorial discussions, and the master-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 257

genius that guided them, was rescued from the archives of our
tribunals and the libraries of lawyers, and placed under the
eye, and submitted to the judgment, of the American people.
Thdr verdict is icith ws, and from it there lies no appeal.''^

And another writer, hardly less eminent, Mr. Everett, hag
said of his arguments on the same, and later occasions : " The
student of Constitutional law will ever resort to the speeches
of Mr. Webster with the same deference that he pays to the
numbers of the Federalist, and the opinions of Chief Justice
Marshall. * ^ * 'pj^g speech in reply to Mr. Calhoun
and the speech on the Protest, are like leaves of the Consti-
tution. They are authorities rather than illustrations. While
we are engaged in perusing them, everything like mere dis-
course, however ingenious, forcible, or ornate, seems compara-
tively insipid." ~ . . . , ., • . >. .

With such demonstrations of public gratitude, and such ex-
pressions of warm encomium, were Mr. Webster's conduct and
speeches on these two momentous occasions received through-
out the country. All conceded to him ardent patriotism, in-
corruptible integrity, and unequalled ability. An emergency
never arises without its accompanying and controlling spirit ;
and Daniel Webster seems to have been alone, of all the
country, the man for each perilous crisis. But for him. Nulli-
fication, decorated and recommended by its two most ingenious
and accomplished champions, might have seduced the affec-
tions of the people, and gained a permanent existence, to the

inevitable disruption of the Union. But for him, our fathers'
12

258 ^ CHAPTER XII.

legacy, the Constitution of the United States — the
great charter of political and social right— miglit have become
a dishonored and worthless parchment. And hut for him,
constitutional and repnhlican liberty — as it exists with ns,
the last hope of nations, — might have become a hissing and a
reproach throughout the world. It was not without cause,
then, that the country, with an almost univocal expression of
its sentiment, greeted him with the title — prouder than mon-
arch ever bestowed — of " Defender of the Constitution."

' The wonderful interest felt in all of Mr. Webster's speeches
springs from the language as well as the sentiment. A
phrase often suggests abundant copiousness of thought ; a
word gives rise to feelings inexpressibly sweet or profound,
like tunes in music ; which recall times when freshness of
heart Was ours, ere bitter experience had belied the trusting-
ness of earlier days. He borrows from no author, ancient
or modern, either style or sentiment ; and yet there is no
speech of his not impregnated with the afflatus divinus of
classical antiquity. The choicest productions of antiquity
are fragrant of no flower which does not perfume his works ;
because his thought, like those of the antique world, is
fresh, original, earnest, and finds correspondent articula-
tion.

The encomium, which Quinctilian bestowed upon the philo-
sophical writings of Brutus, " Scias eum sentire qu(M dicity'^^

DANIEL WEBSTER. 259

you know that he feels what he says — applies vrith greater truth
to Mr. Webster's works. He has felt himself what he makes
us feel. His whole heart is in his language, and warms his
page. This is the secret of its wonderful effect. The sacred
historian informs us that " G-od gave Solomon largeness of
heart ;" and we need no other solution of the popularity of
his writings, in every clime, from generation to generation.
It requires a great heart to express a great truth. The learn-
ing of the schools cannot supply the want thereof; the wis-
dom of the wisest would strive in vain to make good its loss.
To enrich the understanding, to stimulate or satisfy the ar-
dent mind, is far easier than to gain the heart ; one faculty
can be acquired, the other is innate. You must be born an
orator no less than a poet ; for all of poetry is not rhythm,
nor all of oratory language. There is something in both that
eludes the most diligent and pertinacious analysis.

Comj)ared with the productions of the most eminent orators
of ancient or modern times, in what respect is the reply to
Hayne inferior ? In what production of ancient or modern
times, shall we look for such a variety of genius ? Where
shall we find such majestic simplicity of expression, such
beaut}^ of illustration, such appropriateness of diction, where
such ideal beauty of thought, embodied in such pleasing forms,
where such gigantic power of reasoning, such depth of pas-
sion, such elevation of soul

In tempestuous eloquence, which carries away in its un-
governed force, speaker no less than hearer, Demosthenes un-

260 CHAPTER XII.

doubtedlj surpassed him ; it carefully-elaborated periods, in
equi-ponderance of sentences, in studied bursts of passion, as
well as in general pbilosopby, Cicero excelled liim. But wliat
one work of either of those great masters of eloquence presents
such a combination of various excellencies as the reply to
Hayne ? In what phillipic of either, or other immortal pro-
duction, shall we look for its equal ? ~

Of Modern Eloquence, we know nothing comparable.
Much of Chatham depends upon tradition ; more, perhaps,
upon partial reporters ; but, conceding to him all his most ar-
dent admirers ever claimed, we still should deny him much
reach of thought, or even well-sustained eloquence. Voice,
manner, gesture, majesty of presence — all these he had j
but all these produce but a temporary effect. His elo-
quence electrified rather than convinced ; astonished more
than it confuted ; and mastered the passions rather than
the judgment of men. It flashed like the lightning, which
men gazed at with a fearful interest, ignorant of its direction ;
but once gone, the mind soon returned to its previous thought.
His fame as an orator is the greater, that he left so little to
sustain it. Contemporaneous opinion has been more favorable
to him than faithful record might have been. No entire speech
of his is extant ; the fragmentary parts which we have, it is
true, like the celebrated Torso of antiquity, reveal the posses-
sion of great genius, and forbid the hope of their completion
'by another hand. Still they afford no sufiicient indication of
what the merits of the whole would have been.

DANIEL "WEBSTER. 26

The philosophical orator of England— Edmund Burke —
whose magnificent imagery, power of illustration, and vigor
of thought have never been surpassed, was yet so warped by
prejudice, was such a self-deluding sophist, as to leave no one
production, not as much marred by great defects, as charac-
terized by inimitable excellencies. In style, too, almost every
work of his is as objectionable as in sentiment. He scatters,
with a lavish hand, such a wasteful profusion of imagery, as
to almost drown the sense of his meaning. The mind is
puzzled, wearied by the accumulation of illustrations, and
loses all command of the subject-matter. No one speech of
this great writer, not the speech against Hastings, can hold
the unwearied attention throughout. - ..

There can be found in the speeches neither of Fox nor of
his more distinguished rival — great Chatham's greater son —
one, the equal to this of Mr. Webster's, in various merit.
Fox exhibited at times more fiery declamation and more fervid
eloquence ; Pitt, more severity of invective and a wider
range of argument ; but neither, on any occasion, ever
made a speech so complete in every point.

Brougham's speech on the Reform Bill, a masterly produc-
tion doubtless, wants compactness of expression, and fidelity
to the main question of debate, comparatively. But there
are many passages of great eloquence in it, and its peroration
is only inferior to Webster's.

The great charm of this speech, of all speeches of Mr.
Webster, is the ardent patriotism and devotion to liberty that

262 CHAPTER xir,

pervade tliem ; a patriotism, not of a fanatical but Tiniyersal
character ; not hating other countries from love of natal soil ;
but radiating from home a feeling of charity and good will
upon all mankind ; a devotion to liberty, as far removed from
licentiousness as tyranny — liberty inseparable from virtue,
from public and private morals — that imposes checks upon
itself, and guards against the abuse of its own power.

It is this, which gives to his works their wide-spread popu-
larity. It is this which has acclimated them everywhere. It is
this which has carried the English language further than
English arms have ever done ; to regions of thick-ribbed ice,
where day and night make one sad division of the year ; to the
utmost isles of the sea, and lands beyond the solar road.

He has spoken, and enslaved nations have started from the
torpor of centuries. The down-trodden Greek has heard his
voice, and risen upon his oppressors. The Turkish hordes
have fallen where the Persian fell ; and Marathon and Salamis
shine with a newer glory, and a wider emblasonry.

As his words of cheering encouragement have crossed the
equator and penetrated the southern seas, whole nations have
thrown off the yoke of bondage, and achieved an independent
existence. South America, emerging from beneath the hori-
zon with its constellation of republics, has given light and
gladness to the nations. His voice has called a New World
into existence, to compensate for the decline of the old."^

* Enghshmen give this praise to C inning, but hardly with as much

DANIEL WEBSTER. 263

It is not yet Lushed ; liis words liave lost none of tlieir
vital force. The throes of Europe are their response. Sub-
terranean fires are burning there with fatal activity ; which
burst out, ever and anon, in volcanic eruptions, overwhelming
thrones, and destroying oppressors. It may not be long, ere
one universal conflagration shall devour every vestige of
tyranny, and liberated Europe spring up from the ruin, to re-
commence a more glorious career, and accomplish a surer
destiny.

justice ; for our country recognized the independence of the South Ameri-
can RepubUcs before Englani. r;

CHAPTER XIII.

It was the fortune of General Jackson's administration to
have provoked or undergone more public excitement, spring-
ing* from causes of a domestic character, than that of either
of his predecessors. A constant agitation pursued it through-
out. The Hayne controversy roused the public mind from its
apathetic state under the preceding administration, and stimu-
lated it to apprehension and entertainment of elevated yet
fearful themes. The war of nullification followed, ere the
public pulse had recovered its accustomed tone, and gave a
more turbulent motion to opinion. The passions excited by
this quarrel had not subsided, but swayed the minds of men
to and fro, as if tempest-tossed, when the Removal of the
Peposites supervened, and raised the whole country.

The later history of the Bank of the United States may
have reflected the necessity of this measure. Its subsequent
mismanagement and explosion should, perhaps, be holden a
retrospective justification of the decisive proceeding. !Butj
at the time the removal of the deposites took place, the policy

DANIEL WEBSTER. 265

of the measure was not generally understood, while the imme-
diate consequences thereof were everywhere felt, and felt dis-
astrously.

It was no time for argument, however cogent ; because no
argument is listened to, when interest or passion speaks.
That the powers of the Bank were too extensive, its immuni-
ties and privileges too unrestricted, few could now gainsay.
Among the many dangerous powers enjoyed by this institu-
tion, the control over the contraction and expansion of
the currency was not the least so. By the exercise of this
power it could affect, to a most calamitous extent, the busi-
ness of the whole nation. It was a power that existed not
merely in theory, but had been felt in practice. In 1818-19,
the directors of the institution availed themselves of its fatal
character, to enrich themselves and friends, to the great
calamity of the country ; and, in 1831—32, to effect apolitical
purpose, nearly thirty millions of loans were made in a few
months, and called in again within as brief a time ; great
individual and national distress following the experiment. A
power liable to such dangerous abuse should be checked,
though at the hazard of temporary inconvenience.

The immediate consequence of General Jackson's decisive

act was, undoubtedly, disastrous. The country was in a state

of seeming prosperity, commercial and agricultural ; but it

was rather the hectic flush of consumption, than the color of

robust health. „ ' . -

All kinds of operations had been stimulated by easy credits.
12*

266 CHAPTER xirr.

Every branch of business was pushed to its utmost extent,
and stocks of every kind inflated, to near the limits of ro-
mance.

The withdrawal of eight millions from the bank, and the
vindictive contraction of its issues by the bank, broke the
bubble of speculation, and a collapse ensued. A severe
pressure in the money market, the consequent high rate of
interest, the depression of every kind of stock, and the low
price of commodities, were the immediate results of these
measures ; and, no less, a strong, almost fierce agitation of the
community. • . .^ .

The removal of the deposites took place in September, 1833 ;
about two months afterwards, in the greatest heat of the pub-
Uc feeling upon the subject. Congress met. The debates in
that body are not only the safety valves of public excitement,
but to an almost exclusive degree, the record of its existence.
What might be otherwise as frail in memory as evanescent in
feeling becomes, by incorporation in the proceedings of Con-
gress, a permanent fact. Parliamentary action, with a free
people, is a history of their sentiments, their wishes, and, too
often, of their follies. " ^ ' ' "

In the earliest of this session, Mr. Clay introduced a reso-
lution into the Senate, calling upon the President for a copy
of a paper said to have been read by him to the cabinet, in
relation to the removal of the deposites, on the ISth of Sep-
tember preceding ; which resolution he supported in an
animated speech. It was carried, by a vote of twenty-three

DANIEL WEBSTER. 267

to eiglitocn. The State Kiglits men, wlio had not forgotten
or foro-iven General Jackson's decided course in the South
Carolina controversy left the " Treasury Benches" in a body,
and went over to the opposition , thereby reducing the
strength of the administration in the Senate to a minority.

The answer of Greneral Jackson to the resolution of the
Senate was characteristic : ^' The Executive" — he said, in
his communication to the Senate, ^' is a co-ordinate and
independent branch of the Government equally with the
Senate ; and I have yet to learn under what constituted au-
thority that branch of the legislature has a right to require ot
me an account of any communication, either verbally or iu
writing, made to the heads of departments acting as a cabinet-
council. As well might I be required to detail to the Senate
the free and private conversation I have held with those
officers on any subjects relating to their duties and my own."

With this implied, if not direct, rebuke of the Senate for
its unconstitutional interference in matters strictly executive,
General Jackson declined compliance with the resolution.

His answer was received by the Senate with no demonstra-
tion of disrespectful anger ; but in calmness and necessary
acquiescence.

In the document which General Jackson submitted to his
cabinet previous to the removal of the deposites — an official
copy of which Mr. Clay had been unable to obtain for the
Senate — he said : '' The President deems it his duty to com-
municate in this manner to his cabinet, the final conclusions

268 CHAPTER XIII.

of his own mind, and the reasons on which they are founded ;"
and, in concluding his address to them, he said : " The Pre-
sident again repeats that he begs his cabinet to consider the
proposed measure as his oion, in support of which he shall re-
quire no one of them to make a sacrifice of opinion or princi-
ple. Its responsibility has been assumed, after the most
mature deliberation and reflection, as necessary to preserve
the morals of the people, the freedom of the press, and the
purity of the elective franchise ; without which, all will unite
in saying that the blood and treasure expended by our fore-
fathers, in the establishment of our happy system of govern-
ment, will have been vain and fruitless." A fierce clamor
was raised against the President for the communication of
these sentiments, by the less moderate of the Opposition, in
and out of Congress. They denounced him as an usurper of
powers unrecognized by the Constitution ; and charged upon
him the intention of overthrowing the liberties of the country.
Heated faction poured forth against him its choicest language
of abuse, likening him to every variety of tyrant, lands
most fertile in such products, ever nourished ; so that m.any
honest, though most credulous people, in different parts of
the country, were sadly imposed upon. The fanaticism of
party never achieved a more decided victory over sober
truth. " • ' ■ ' '

But truth has this advantage over error ; its conquests, if
not so rapid, are permanent. And now that the delusion of
the moment has passed away, with the excitement of which it

DANIEL WEBSTER. 269

was engendered, and reason has regained her sometime usurped
authority, the conduct of General Jackson, in this menacing
exigency of affairs, stands out boldly in the historical picture,
reflecting courage, capacity, and marvellous foresight.

He was the man for a crisis. He feared nothing, he doubt-
ed nothing ; he dared everything. He sought no evasion, he
shuntied no risk. He interposed no screen, no defence
between himself and his enemies ; but advancing to the
very front of the battle, he defied them all : " I am here,
who have done this thinsr : ao-ainst me. afjainst me, turn vour
weapons." He courted danger like a mistress.

He thought the deposites unsafe in the vaults of the bank,
and rejnoved them. He found the Secretary of the Treasury
too timid to incur his share of the responsibility, and removed
him. He knew what denunciation awaited him from rancorous
opponents ; what lukewarm support from timorous friends.
He knew too his duty, and, heedless alike of fierce enmity or
half-faced fellowship, dared perform it.

Not discouraged, though defeated in his first attack, Mr.
Clay renewed his assaults upon the administration for its con-
duct in the matter of the public funds, with increased vigor.
His indomitable courage and towering intellect, with his great
Parliamentary tact, admirably qualified him for the post of
leader, and made him no unworthy competitor of General
Jackson himself. Foiled in one attack, he fell- back, to as-
sume a better position, and make defeat itself the handmaid of
victory

270 ' CHAPTER XIII.

On tliG 26th of December, lie offered in tlie Senate tlie fol-
lowing resolutions : .■ . ' - ^

1. Resolved J Thsit by dismissing the late Secretary of the
Treasury, because he would not, contrary to his sense of his
own duty, remove the money of the United States in deposit
with the Bank of the United States and its branches, in con-
formity with the President's opinion, and by appointing his
successor to effect such removal, which has been done, the
President has assumed the exercise of a power over the Trea-
sury of the United States, not granted to him by the Consti-
tution and laws, and dangerous to the liberties of the people.

2. Resolvcdj That the reasons assigned by the Secretary of
the Treasury for the removal of the money of the United
States, deposited in the Bank of the United States, and its
branches, communicated to Congress on the third day of
December, 1833, are unsatisfactory and insufficient.

These resolutions Mr. Clay enforced in one of the strongest
arguments of his life. He gave his whole heart to the speech.
His burning eloquence carried away his audience, and loud
plaudits from the gallery accompanied and interrupted him.
These demonstrations of sympathy were of course immediately
suppressed by the chair, who could not, however, prevent en-
tirely their recurrence.

He passed from wit to argument, from satire to denunciation,
^' from lively to severe," with such rapidity that extremes
seemed to touch, and laughter and indignation almost com-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 27^

min2;led. He put forth the whole variety of his intellect,
omitting nothing, stinting nothing, exaggerating nothing. **

His illustrations were peculiarly felicitous. The civil and
loving expressions with which Greneral Jackson ejected Mr.
Duane — his recusant Secretary of the Treasury — reminded
him. he said, of one of the most remarkable characters which
our species has produced : " When Oliver Cromwell was con-
tending for the mastery in Grreat Britain or Ireland, (I do not
remember which,) he besieged a certain Catholic town. The
place made a brave and stout resistance ; but, at length, be-
ing likely to be taken, the poor Catholics proposed terms of
capitulation, among which was one stipulating for the tolera-
tion of their religion. The paper containing the conditions
being presented to Oliver, he put on his spectacles, and, after
deliberately examining them, cried out, ' Oh, yes, granted,
granted, certainly ; but," he added with stern determination,
" if one of them shall dare be found attending mass, he shall
be instantly hanged." , . .,

There were many not less apposite than this, and some
more illustrative of the points he made in his argument. He
was listened to throughout with profound attention.

His speech was more argumentative than usual, less rhetori-
cal. He seemed conscious that the importance of the con-
troversy required all the skill in dialectics he could boast;
and, with that admirable tact in the election of the proper
style of oration which distinguishes him, he made a sound,
logical, perspicuous argument ; relieved, occasionally, it is

272 CHATTER xiri.

true, witli some ardent declamation, pungent satire, or bril-
liant fancy. ' . -

But, after all, Mr. Clay's style, whetlier of tliouglit or
manner, is not senatorial. It lacks dignity, elevation, gravity.
His speech is often too colloquial, and even in some of its most
effective passages, disfigured by provincialisms. He ^yas
never a scholar ; has never studied those chaste models of
style, the ancient classics, and, consequently knows, but im-
perfectly, how grandly to express a grand idea. The House
of Representatives was the theatre of his greatness and his
glory : there, his emphatic manner, his fervid eloquence, his
earnest, though unchastened thought, gained him. an admiration
amounting almost to enthusiasm. Polish of style or accuracy
of expression, was unnoticed or forgiven, in the abandon of
feeling which his bold imagery, his vehement denunciation,
and passionate appeals produced. As a popular speaker, he
has had hardly an equal, certainly, no superior. > .

How different in manner, in thought, and in diction, Mr.
Calhoun appeared ! The fertile brevity of his expression, his
power of thought, and the severe simplicity of his manner,
placed him in violent contrast to his sometime rival. His
speech had all the terseness of Tacitus, without his obscurity.
It was illustrated more by axioms than imagery. Yet his
language was so well-selected, so appropriate, so full of deco-
rous words, that it required no other ornament.

He made a great argument on this occasion, saying more in
two hours than almost anv other Senator in two davs. In the

DANIEL WEBSTER. 2'''''3

beginning, lie defined his position : " I stand wholly discon-
nected with the two great political parties now contending for
ascendancy. My political connections are with that small
and denounced party, which has voluntarily wholly retired
from the party strifes of the day, with a view of saving, if
possible, the liberty and the Constitution of the country, in
this great crisis of our affairs."

Alluding to the claim put forward by the friends of the ad-
ministration, that in the removal of the deposites, it undertook
to defend and guard the rights of States against the encroach-
ments of the Federal Government, Mr. Calhoun spoke with
unwonted energy. " The administration the guardians and
defenders of the rights of the States ! What shall I call it
— audacity or hypocrisy ? The authors of the proclamation,
the guardians and defenders of the rights of the States ! The
authors of the war message against a member of this con-
federacy— the authors of the ' bloody bill'^ — -the guardians and
defenders of the rights of the States ! This a struggle for
State Rights! Xo, sir; State Hights are no more. The
struggle is over for the present. The bill of the last session, '
which vested in the government the right of judging of the
extent of its powers, finally and conclusively, and gave it the
right of enforcing, its judgment by the sword ; destroyed all
distinction between delegated and reserved rights ; concen-
trated in the government the entire power of the system, and
prostrated the States, as poor and helpless corporations, at the
foot of this sovereignty." '

274 CHAPTER xrir.

His argument on tliis occasion was not disfigured Tby tlio
painful abstractions of Iiis usual speecli. He held close to
bis subject, wliicli he illustrated with great power. The mind
of the audience followed him throughout. \

Four times the space that measures day and night, did Mr.
Benton address the Senate. The speech was an able one ; so
much so, that his audience almost forgave him the want of
ability to condense it. He left little of financial history or
operations untouched ; and he commented upon little that he
did not strengthen. Nor was it, to all minds, the least con-
siderable merit of the speech that it allowed resting places
to the attention. The distinguished orator would sometimes
recapitulate — repeat in a variety of forms his argument —
during which times the mind could recruit its somewhat ex-
hausted force, and renew its capacity to apprehend. With
Mr. Calhoun, on the contrary, there is no respite to the at-
tention. The mind that would comprehend his argument,
must listen to each word of his speech. Each sentence is so
much dependent upon the preceding, that the loss of one
link breaks the continuity of the argument, and mars the
whole effect. ' \ ■ ' ""■' ^. ■ .

The great escitement prevailing in the country upon the
removal of the deposites, was no where more intense than in
the metropolis. Hither resorted persons from all sections of
the country, most of whom, at this period, were violent par-
tisans. The Senate-chambfir was not saved from the ebulition
of angry feeling, which exhibited itself sometimes in boiste-

DANIEL WEBSTER. 275

roTis applause of one speaker, and sometimes m nerce con-
demnation of another. A tumultuous spiiit threatened to
overawe the Senate.

This spirit, so derogatory to the character of the Senate,
and so revolutionary in its tendencies, the Vice-President,
Mr. Yan Buren, determined to put down. He warned the
galleries to forbear all expression of opinion concerning matters
in debate, or persons participating therein. Another viola-
tion of the respect due the Senate, he said, should be follow-
ed by the instant clearing of the galleries. To this end, he
had instructed the officers of the Senate, who would take
good care his orders were carried out. His determination of
tone and manner quieted the crowd, who afterwards offered no
interruption to the proceedings or debates of the Senate.

A model presiding officer was Mr. Yan Buren. The at-
tentive manner in which he listened, or seemed to listen,
to each successive speaker, no matter how dull the sub-
ject, or how stupid the orator, the placidity of his coun-
tenance, unruffled in the midst of excitement, the modest
dignity of his deportment, the gentlemanly ease of his address,
his well-modulated voice and sympathetic smile, extorted ad-
miration from even an opposing Senate ; while the proper
firmness he displayed on all occasions, the readiness with which
he met and repulsed any attack upon privileges or dignity of
the Chair, the more conspicuous in contrast with the quiet Ih-
difference with which he entertained any merely personal
assault, gained him the good will of all beholders.

276 CHAPTER xiir.

He had served an apprenticeship to his high office by a
senatorial career of six years, and qualified himself by the
proper discharge of the duties of one position for the more re-
sponsible duties of the other. The peculiar delicacy and
decorum which he had manifested during that term of service
in times of high party excitement, and in a decided minority,
had won him great renown, and seemed to justify the general
belief that he was intended for a larger sphere of action.
Always self-controlled, he never uttered a word, direct or by
inuendo, either from premeditation or in the heat of excite-
ment, which need have wounded the feelings of a political
opponent, in open or in secret session. Master of his own
passions, he soon learnt to command those of other men.
By study of himself, he acquired a knowledge of mankind.
With a countenance always open, and thought always conceal-
ed, he invited without returning, confidence. Indeed, the
character the great modern poet gives to one of his heroes
will serve as an epitome, mutatis mutandis^ of Mr. Yan
Buren's : • . ^ : ■ - ^ ' . -

" He was the mildest-mannered man,
That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat ;
With such true feelings of the gentleman,
You rarely could divine his real thought."

Virginia divided on this question of the removal of the dfi-
posites, as she had done on the Force Bill. Rives, now, as
then, stood by the administration. Tyler contended both

DANIEL WEBSTER. 277

times, he said, for the Constitution. Rives made, perhaps,
the strongest argument in defence of the President's policy,
of the whole party. He was logical, candid, profound ; and
divided opinion even with Mr Calhoun. As a constitutional
argument, his effort deserved great praise. ISo one ever bet-
ter explained the theory of executive power ; strengthening
his opinion, as he did, with the dicta of Madison, and other
earliest and most eminent commentators of the Constitu-
tion. He denied that General Jackson had transcended
the constitutional limits of his office, in the removal of the
deposites, and compelled the Opposition to fall back upon the
impolicy and abruptness of that proceeding. His speech on
the Force Bill had given a promise of excellence which this
more than confirmed. . -

Nor did his colleague, Mr. Tyler, make an indifferent
speech. He hauled closer to the wind than usual, and lost
less time and less power in unnecessary diversions. He spoke
with much animation and earnestness of manner. " We are
told," he said, " of the great power of the Bank, sir ; is there
no danger from power in any other direction ? Are gentlemen
blind to the power of the President ? In its mildest form it is
immense ; look into the Blue Book ; count up the number of
his retainers — of those who live only by his smile, and perish
by his frown — here are forty thousand public officers of the
government. The Dukes of Burgundy, who agitated Europe
in the time of the Henrys of England and the Philips and
Louises of France, could not count so many. The Earl of

278 CHAPTER XIIT.

Warwick, the king-maker of England, had not one fourth so
many," Power, it is said, corrupts its possessor. Of this,
the Syrian, who, yet unused to it, replied incredulously and
indignantly to the prophet, as he predicted the enormities of
his coming reign — ■■' Is thy servant a dog, that he should do
these thino;s ?" is not the sole historical illustration. Little
did the orator think, on this occasion, while he fulminated
against the abuse of power by General Jackson, how soon he
should be subjected to its dangerous exercise. If he went
through the ordeal, with less of self-reproach or public op-
probrium than he whose conduct he so strongly reprobated,
history will mitigate its damnatory records of gross abuse of
power with one instance of glorious self-control. .

Mr. Rives' speech on this occasion cost him his seat in
the Senate. The Legislature of Virginia, with the petty in-
tolerance that distinguishes the ignorant, *' instructed" him
out of it — the only kind of instruction, perhaps, it was in its
power to render him. His rebound, however, was greater
than his fall ; for, soon after, he was called upon by the Presi-
dent, to exert, for the benefit of his country, m an eminent
position abroad, those rare qualities which the ingratitude of
his State would not sufier him to display in a subordinate posi-
tion at home. He avenged himself upon his State, which
refused his service, by enhancing the glory of her 2aame.j and
promoting the prosperity of the country, which, on her ostra-
cism, had adopted him.

Mnch agitation, all the while the debate was gome on^

DANIEL WEBSTER. 279

excited tlie mind of GeneralJaclisoc. As reports of speeches
were daily made to liim, lie betrayed more or less emotion
according to their character. He spoke in terms somewhat
objurgatory of Mr. Clay's speech ; of Mr. Calhoun's, in terms
decidedly so. In truth, a reservation of his sentiments was
not a common fault with General Jackson. It might rather
have been complained, that the language in which he gave
them utterance was sometimes too strong, too vehement, too
personal. It was illustrated with expressions that had been
better omitted. " Our army swore terribly in Flanders ;"
and it is not to be disguised, that General Jackson transferred
to civil life the habit he acquired in camps, of too energetic
epithets. It was, however, only in moments of great escite-
ment, when reason is, as it were, for a time in abeyance, that
he indulged in a habit so reprehensible in a gentleman, so un-
becoming, and, from example, so pernicious, in the highest
officer of the government.

But for Mr. Calhoun, General Jackson, at this time, en-
tertained a theological hatred. Ordinary language, he feared,
could not give it adequate revelation. It must be character-
ized, he thought, by language no less decided than itself. It
could not find vent in hostile action, or he would have gratified
it otherwise than in words. Words were the only outlet to
his anger, and he selected the most expressive.

General Jackson felt a stronger personal interest in this
debate than in the debate upon the Fcrce Bill. In that more
important interests were agitated, bat none to affect bim per-

280 CHAPTER xirr.

sonallj so near. The defeat of his recommendations on that
occasion, would, undoubtedly, very materially, have -weakened
the moral force of his administration, if it had not destroyed
it wholly ; but the personal consequences might not have been
so disastrous as they threatened to be in this. The responsi-
bility of his action, on that occasion, was shared by his cabi-
net, by the larger portion of his own party, and by the almost
unanimous strength of the Opposition, and applauded by the
country generally. Had he failed of success, the sympathy in
his favor would, in a very short period, have even added to
his already formidable popularity, and temporary discomfiture
been succeeded by permanent and almost illimitable power.

But the removal of the deposites he had assumed as his
own act. He had relieved, by open proclamation, his cabinet
from any participation in it. It was an act, he well knew,
which many of his friends hesitated to defend, while it ren-
dered a fierce opposition still fiercer. Nor was the country
generally, he could not but feel, as on the former occasion,
disposed to warmly concur in his action. A panic seized the
financial and commercial interests, and afiected, indeed, more
or less disastrously, every class of the community ; a panic
encouraged and exaggerated by the retaliatory measures of
the Bank, so that an entire stagnation of all trade and opera-
tions seemed inevitable.

The passage of these resolutions by the Senate of the United
States, a majority of whom were his former political friends,
could not, he thought, but prove injurious to his_administration.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 281

It would bo the first check, of any important character, it had
ever encountered, since its commencement. The act would
go forth to the world as a grave, authoritative, official condem-
nation of his conduct. It would lessen the magic influence
of his name, in destroying the belief in its invincibility, and
might draw after it consequences alike disastrous to his ad-
ministration and the party. To prevent the passage of the
resolutions, therefore, was his first hope ; and, failing in that,
the next was, to give them such a character and intent, as to
render them incapable of icjury to himself, with the country.

From the NuUifiers, or State Bights party, in the Senatej
General Jackson looked for no support. He knew there were
no harsher enemies than warm friends alienated ; and his for-
mer intimacy with that party prepared him for its vindictive
opposition now. But there were in the Senate three or four
of no determined purpose, whose action awaited the superior
argument, or most conclusive reasons, of one side or the other.
\Yith as much integrity as the rest of the Senate, they had
not been able to come to so early conclusion in regard to the
policy of censuring General Jackson's proceedings. Their
votes would decide the contest, and consequently there was
an eager struggle on both sides to obtain them,

Mr. Clay's resolution of censure originally read : Resolved^
That by dismissing the late Secretary of the Treasury, be-
cause he would not, contrary to his sense of his own duty,
remove the money of the United States, in deposit with the

Bank of the United States and its brancheSj in conformity
13

282 CHAPTER XIII.

witli the President's opinion ; and by appointing his successor
to effect such removal, which has been done, the President
has assumed the exercise of a power over the Treasury of the
United States not granted to him by the Constitution and
laws, and dangerous to the liberties of the people."

This resolution specified certain acts of the President,
which it denounced as a violation of the Constitution and
laws. The particular conclusion- of fact or law, which in-
duced any Senator to vote for it, would appear from the very
terms of the resolution. -^V,. . '

The mover of the resolution, discovered during the debate,
ana particularly after the arguments of Mr. Eives and Mr.
Forsyth, that, unless modified, it would probably fail — the
moderates declining to vote for it. He therefore modified it,
as follows : .. ^ ■:..- ■ '

" Resolved — That in taking upon himself the responsibility
of removing the deposites of the public money from the Bank
of the United States, the President of the United States has
assumed the exercise of a power over the Treasury of the
United States, not granted to him by the Constitution and
laws, and dangerous to the liberties of the people."

This resolution, thus amended, he offered to the Senate to-
wards the close of the debate. It still did not satisfy tho
scrupulous party, who held the balance of power between the
two extremes. The able and legal argument of IMr.
Wright, of New York, the last that was made on the siclc ot

DANIEL WEBSTER. 283

the friends of tlie administration, threatened to secure the re-
jection of the resolution, even in its amended form.

The politic leader of the opposition, always full of re-
sources, and always ready to concede to tender consciences
whatever would not interfere with the prospect of triumpli,
again modified his resolution, making it read thus :

" Resolved— Th3it the President, in the late executive pro-
ceedings in relation to the public revenue, has assumed upon
himself authority and power not conferred by the Constitution
and laws, but in derogation of both."

The character of these changes was important. The first
omitted the specification on which the general charge against
the President of havins; violated the Constitution and laws
depended, but still retained the clause that accused him of
conduct " dangerous to the liberties of the people." The
second change not only omitted the specification, but the im-
peaching clause — " dangerous to the liberties of the people" — ■
besides. These changes were decisive of the vote. The re-
solution of censure finally passed on the 28th of March, 1834,
by a vote of twenty-six to twenty ; eight of the twenty-six
having been original Jackson-men.

The other resolution of Mr. Clay, declaring the reasons as-
signed by the Secretary of the Treasury for the removal of
the deposites insufficient, passed by a vote of twenty-eight to
eighteen. ' " . ' •

In the acrimonious debate upon this occasion, Mr. Webster
took no part. He could not approve the act of the President

284 CHAPTER xiir.

in removing tlie deposites, yet would not join those wlio seized
this opportunity of making a personal attack upon him. He
could not hut recollect that a few short months before, the
President and himself were upon terms of cordiality — that
they had reciprocated mutual kindnesses ; and he was not pre-
pared so early to forego such grateful reminiscences, and
adopt, instead of friendly courtesies, the language of denunci-
ation and menace. To others, he left the invidious task of
impunging the motives and arraigning the character of General
Jackson ; — for himself, he was content to record a silent and
respectful dissent to this measure of his administration.

But the passage of Mr. Clay's resolutions exasperated
rather than allayed the division between the Executive and
Senate. To the vote of censure passed upon his act by the
Senate, Gen. Jackson sent to that body, on the 17th April,
1834, his memorable Protest. The resolution of the Senate,
he said, was in substance an impeachment of the President ;
and, in its passage, amounted to a declaration, by the ma-
jority of the Senate, that he was guilty of an impeachable
offence. As such it was spread upon the journals of the
Senate — published to the nation and the world, — made part
of our enduring archives — and incorporated in the history of
the age.

The Constitution makes the House of Kepresentatives the
exclusive judges, in the first instance, of the question, whether
the President has committed an impeachable offence. But,
according to the argument of the President, a majority of th

DANIEL WEBSTER. 285

Senate, wliose interference with this preliminary cjuestiou
had been studiously excluded, anticipated the action of the
House of Representatives, and not only assumed the functicm
that belongs exclusively to that body, but converted them-
selves into accusers, witnesses, counsel and judges.

The argument of the Protest was most ingenious, and highly
creditable to its distinguished author. He defended, with
great force of logic, two positions: 1st. That the Executive,
under the constitution and the laws, was the sole custodian of
the public funds ; and 2dly, that even on the supposition tho
President had assumed an illegal power in the removal of the
doposites, the Senate had no right, by resolution, in that or
any other case, to express disapprobation of the President's
conduct. He was amenable to the action of neither House
of Congress, unless by the constitutional method of impeach-
ment. ■ . ■ - -

The* introduction of the Protest into the Senate opened wide
again the flood-gates of debate. All who had spoken before
plunged in now, and some with greater vehemence. The ex-
citement in the Senate was intense, and occasionally irrej^res-
sible. Mr. Leigh, of Va., concluding a speech, with a glow-
ing encomium upon j\Ir. Clay for his services in getting
through the tariff compromise act of 1S33, "brought down"
the galleries. The cheering and mingled hisses were so vio-
lent, that the Vice-President ordered the galleries to be
cleared ; and while the sergeant-at-arms was proceeding in
the execution of the order, the noise and disturbance became

286 CHAPTER XIII.

yet more outrageous. Some names were vociferated, with
tumultuous approbation — others, with as vehement vitupera-
tton ; and, among the latter, the name of the President. This
excited the indignation of Col. Benton, who moved that " the
Bank-ruffians" that had committed the outrage should be
taken into custody, accompanying his motion with remarks
emphatically condemnatory of the rioters. Mr. Moore, of
Ala., thought the motion unnecessary, as it could not be
carried out. The whole gallery must be arrested, or no one —
for it was impossible to distinguish, amid so much confusion,
the innocent from the guilty. But Mr. Benton, with some
warmth, insisted on his motion, upon which he demanded the
ayes and noes ; and they were ordered accordingly.

Mr. Clayton, as soon as he could make himself heard be-
yond the noise on the floor as well as in the galleries, regretted
the motion had been made, but since it had been, he should
vote against it. He did not regard the disturbance as an in-
tended contempt of the Senate, but only as an indiscreet ex-
pression of public opinion.

Mr. Benton replied, that the terms in which he expressed
his motion were so distinct as not to be misunderstood. He
would not be misunderstood. He did not move to take into
custody those, who, in an unguarded moment, had applauded
the sentiments "of the Senator from Virginia, but those, who,
long after the gentleman had taken his seat, had continued to
outrage and insult the Senate.

While motions were made to adjourn, and to lay Col.

DANIEL %YET3!=TER. 2S7

Benton's motion on the tabic, tlio chair pronouncing them
severally out of order, the galleries became cleared. The
Senate then assumed a more pacific aspect, and order was
recovered. r>Ir. Benton withdrew his motion, because tne
galleries being all cleared, he said, there was no one upon whom
it could operate.

"While the debate maintained a personal character, and
seemed used but as an opportunity for the display of angry
feeling on either side, Mr. Webster continued silent. His
object was to discourage, not to foment, prejudices — to miti-
gate and not to exasperate passions already dangerously ex-
cited ; and it was not till men's minds had been brought,
mostly by his example and remonstrance, to a temperature
susceptible of dispassionate argument, that he arose to address
the Senate.

In his exordium, he spoke of the President in the language
of respect — from which he did not deviate in any part of his
argument : " Unhappily, sir, the Senate finds itself involved
in a controversy with the President of the United States ;
a man who has rendered most distinguished services to his
country, has hitherto possessed a degree of popular favor per-
haps never excelled, and whose honesty of motive and integrity
of purpose are still maintained by those who admit that his
administration has fallen into lamentable errors."

Thus, while persons, once his friends, were assailing Gen
Jackson's motives and ferociously denouncing his policy, Mr
Wesbster, never other than his political opponent, always

2SS CHAPTER xiir.

conceded the honesty of his intentions even when 3ompelIed
Ibj his convictions to oppose his measures. ^ ^.

The Senate — he said in this speech — regarded the direct
interposition of the President in the removal of the deposites,
as an interference with the legislative disposition of the public
treasure. Every encroachment, great or small, was important
enough to awaken the attention of those who were intrusted
with the preservation of a Constitutional Government. It
was in this relation that he expressed his thoughts in sentences
that have been pronounced some of the most beautiful and
energetic, in any of his works. Speaking of the resistance
made by our ancestors to the assertion of the right of Parlia-
ment to tax them, he said : "It was against the recital of an
act of Parliament, rather than any suffering under its enact-
ments, that they took up arms. They went to war against a
preamble. They fought seven years against a declaration.
They poured out their treasures and their blood like water, in
a contest in opposition to an assertion which those less sa-
gacious, and not so well schooled in the principles of civil
liberty, would have regarded as barren phraseology, or mere
parade of words. They saw in the claim of the British Par-
liament a seminal principle of mischief, the germ of unjust
power ; they detected it, dragged it forth from underneath its
plausible disguises, struck at it ; nor did it elude their steady
eye, or their well directed blow, till they had extirpated and
destroyed it to the smallest fibre. On this question of prin-
ciple, while actual suffering was yet afar off, they raised their

DANIEL WEBSTER. 289

flag against a power, to wliicli, for purposes of foreign con-
quest and subjugation, Rome, in tlie lieiglit of her glory, is
not to be compared — a power which has dotted over the sur-
face of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts,
whose morning drum-beat, following the sun, and keeping
company with the hours, circles the earth daily with one con-
tinuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England."
In reply to the claim of the President, that the Executive
had the sole control of the public funds, Mr. Webster said in
his argument : " Mr. President, the Executive claim of jDOwer
is exactly this, that the President may keep the money of the
public in whatever banks he chooses, on whatever terms he
chooses, and to apply the sums which those banks are willing
to pay for its use to whatever purposes he chooses. These
sums are not to come into the general treasury. They are to
be appropriated before they get there ; they are never to be
brought under the control of Congress ; they are to be paid
to officers and agents not known to the law, not nominated to
the Senate, and responsible to nobody but the Executive itself.
I ask gentlemen if all this be lawful ? Are they prepared to
defend it ? Will they stand up and justify it ? In my opin-
ion, sir, it is a clear and most dangerous assumption of power.
It is the creation of office without law ; the appointment to
office without consulting the Senate ; the establishment of a
salary without law ; and the payment of that salary out of a
fund which itself is derived from the use of the public

treasures." . " -

13*

290 CHAPTER xiir.

In trutli, the argument of Mr. Webster on this pomt con-
cludes the question ; and leaves the act of the President to
the defensive plea of necessity- — a necessity clear, cogent, and
imperative ; that admitted of no delay, and tolerated no alter-
native. It was upon this ground alone that his friends finally
defended it ; and upon this alone will it generally be held
defensible by posterity. -' .'■

The other argument of the Protest that the Senate had no
right to express disapprobation of the President's conduct,
Mr. "Webster combatted, with brief but emphatic logic. " We
need not look far," he said, ''nor look deep, for the founda-
tion of this right in the Senate. It is clearly visible and
close at hand. In the first place, it is the right of self-
defence. In the second place, it is a right founded on the
duty of representative bodies, in a free government, to defend
the public liberty against encroachment. We must presume
that the Senate honestly entertained the opinion expressed in
the resolution of the 28th of March ; and, entertaining that
opinion, its right to express it is but a necessary consequence
of its right to defend its own constitutional authority, as one
"branch of the Government. This is its clear right, and this,

too, is its imperative duty.

******

The Senate has acted not in its judicial, but in its legisla-
tive capacity. As a legislative body, it has defended its own
just authority, and the authority of the other branch of the
Legislature. Whatever attacks our own rights or privileges,

DANIEL WEBSTER. 291

or whatever cucroaclics on tlie power of both Houses, we may
oppose and resist, by declaration, resolution, or other similar
proceedings. If we look to the books of precedents, if we
examine the journals of legislative bodies, we find everywhere
instances of such proceedings."

The speech on the Protest, received a no less distinguished
and ardent reception in the country generally, than the
speeches in reply to Ilayne, and on the Force Bill. Equally
with these, it responded to the dominant sentiment of the
people. Persons of all political opinions, and of various pur-
suits, addressed Mr. Vr^ebster thanks for the efibrt. Some of
the most eminent jurists and statesmen of the nation proferred
him their warmest approbation ; — among whom were Chan-
cellor Kent of New York, and Littleton W. Tazewell of
Virginia ; differing on most subjects of constitutional law,
they agreed fully upon this. " I had just finished," writes
Chancellor Kent to Mr. Webster some days after the speech
was delivered, " the rapturous perusal of your speech on the
Protest as appearing in the Intelligencer of Saturday, when I
had the pleasure of receiving it from you in a pamphlet form.
I never had a greater treat than the reading of that speech
this morning. You never equalled this effort. It surpasses
everything in logic — in simplicity and beauty and energy of
diction — in clearness — in rebuke — in sarcasm — in patriotic
and glowing feelings — in just and profound constitutional
views — in critical severity and matchless strength. It is worth
millions to our liberties."

292 CHAPTER xiir.

And Gov. Tazewell, writing to Mr. Tyler says : " Tell
Webster from me that I have read his speech in the National
Intelligencer, with more pleasure than any I have lately seen.
If the approbation of it by one who has not been used to
coincide with him in oj^inion can be grateful to him, he has
mine in extenso. I agree with him perfectly, and thank him
cordially for his many excellent illustrations of what I always
thought. If it is published in pamplet form, beg him to
send me one. I will have it bound in good Russia leather,
and will leave it as a special legacy to my children."

That the merits of this speech as a constitutional argument
should have been so earnestly impressed upon two persons of
such distinguished and yet diverse opinions in relation to con-
stitutional questions, is no ordinary proof of its profound
truthfulness. For while sophistry presents many phases, and
is viewed in various and changeful light, truth, to the thought-
ful and sagacious, has but one aspect, and is immutable. The
argument on the Protest, as the exposition of sound, patent,
constitutional doctrine, has its equal nowhere — not even in
any previous or subsequent effort of Mr. "Webster himself.

These three great speeches of Mr. Yv^ebster, — the Eeply to
Hayne, the speech on the Force Bill, and upon the Protest — •
are, most undoubtedly, the best exposition of constitutional
law ever given to the country. They constitute a chart of
government. And, as in the ancient daj^s of Ptome, the
magistrates, whenever danger pressed the eternal city, con-
sulted the Sybilline Books, to know what measures of safety

DANIEL WEBSTER. 293

to pursue, so, under our government, with us, and with
^posterity, these inspired productions of his great mind, in
time of peril to the Constitution and the Union, will ever he
resorted to as the only hope or means of preservation. By
their saving guidance, the Constitution and the Union,
^' one and inseparable," may survive every storm, and ride
victorious through every gale.

Attachment to the Union of the States has amounted with
Mr. "Webster to a passion. It was his earliest love and will
endure to his latest breath. In whatever situation he has
been placed, it has filled his heart and controlled his conduct.
He was made everything, in public life, subsidiary to this.
It has grown with his growth, and strengthened with his
strength, till it has become a part of his moral being.

The past is security for the future — no matter how much
his motives may be arraigned, his conduct vilified, or his per-
sonal feelings outraged, he will maintain, steadfast and un-
shaken, his devotion to the Constitution and the Union. He
will neither forego nor qualify that ardent devotion, at the
instigation of angry clamor, or be diverted a hair's-breadth
from his consistent course, by the frowns or smiles of power,
whether centered in one man or the million. He knows no
change. He takes no step backwards, whatever denunciation
or whatever blandishments surround him, he will be true,
Vfhoever else is faithless. As well might we expect the
North Star, — in all time, that unsubsidized guide to the
mariner, — to withhold his light and refuse to shine, because

294 CHAPTER XIII

the needle, with fickle polarity, inclines to some other
luminary.

"I am," he says now as he said before, " where I have
ever been, and ever mean to be. Standing on the platform
of the general Constitution — a platform, broad enough, and
firm enough, to uphold every interest of the whole country —
I shall still be found. Intrusted with some part in the ad-
ministration of that Constitution, I intend to act in its spirit
and in the spirit of those who framed it. I would act as if
our fathers who formed it for us, and who bequeathed it to
us, were looking on me — as if I could see their venerable
forms bending down to behold us from the abodes above.
I would act too as if the eye of posterity was gazing on me.

"Standing thus, as in the full gaze of our ancestors and our
posterity, having received this inheritance from the former, to
be transmitted to the latter, and feeling that, if I am formed
for any good, in my day and generation, it is for the good of
the whole country, no local policy or local feeling, no tempo-
rary impulse, shall induce me to yield my foothold on the
Constitution and the Union. /:"

" I came into public life in the service of the United States
On that broad altar, my earliest, and all my public vows,
have been made. I propose to serve no other master. So
far as depends on any agency of mine, they shall continue
United States; united in interest and affection; united in
everything in regard to which the Constitution has decreed

DANIEL WEBSTER, 295

tlieir union; united in war, for tlie common defence, tlie
common renown, and the common glory ; and united, com-
pacted, knit firmly together in peace, for the common pros-
perity and happiness of ourselves and our children."