WEBSTER AND HIS MASTER-PIECES. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. WHEN, after the 24th day of October, 1852, it was announced from Marshfield, that Daniel Webster was no more, as soon as men had time to begin to realize the nation's loss, his own words, which he had used in reference to the deaths of Adams and of Jefferson, seemed to spring spontaneously to the lips of every individual, who had made himself familiar with his works: "A superior and commanding human intellect, a truly great man, when heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is not a temporary flame, burning brightly for a while, and then giv. ing place to returning darkness. It is rather a spark of fervent heat, as well as radiant light, with power to enkindle the common mass of human mind; so that when it glimmers in its own decay, and finally goes out in death, no night follows, but it leaves the world all light, all on fire, from the potent contact of its own spirit." This language was immediately applied to the man who had first uttered it. It was extensively copied into the public prints. Every American felt, that nothing short of the strongest expressions could do justice to the universal sentiment. That sentiment was higher than it has ever been, in this country, since the death of Washington. It was as high, probably much nigher, than it was in England on the decease of Welington, Napoleon, when he died, was not more mourned by his friends in France, than was Webster in America. Napoleon was mourned by one party, the strongest, it is true, but blamed, hated, though too great to be despised, by every other. Webster was so universally mourned, by the whole American people, that the very few citizens, who had the folly to become exceptions, could scarcely be regarded as constituting an exception. They were lost, and buried, and overwhelmed amidst the general burst of feeling, which the whole nation poured out over the grave of its fallen statesman. There have been but few men, since the beginning of history, whose characteristics were so prominent, whose greatness was so emphatic, that they left but one opinion of their merits. Aristides was starved to death by his own countrymen. Anaxagoras was driven from the land of his birth by those who had listened to his lofty teachings. Themistocles was banished after he had saved the liberties of his native country. Miltiades was forced into exile after he had covered his country with the brightest rays of its military glory. Phocion and Socrates, the incorruptible politician and the almost inspired philosopher, were compelled to drink the fatal hemlock, after they had furnished their fellow citizens with the brightest examples of patriotism and of purity of character ever witnessed by them. None of these men, great as they certainly were, were great enough, it would seem—not to escape slander; for this is common to all mortals-but to rise above it, to beat it down, to conquer it, and to impress upon the world a true, single, unmistakable image of their characters. Such was not the fate of Daniel Webster. When he departed, not only his own nation, but all the civilized nations surrounding it, on both sides of the Atlantic, as well as more distant countries, and the islands of the seas, uttered substantially one voice, gave vent to one emotion, united in one opin ion. That voice, that emotion, that opinion was, that the great THE NATION'S LOSS. 19 ness of Webster had left nothing equal to it among the living, and could not be expected to be followed by any greatness su perior to it in many a generation. What a spectacle, indeed, this vast country presented to the world immediately upon, and for weeks and months after, the lamented 24th of October! A statesman had died; and all the statesmen of the republic, including its chief magistrate, and the heads of departments, and both houses of congress, and all the state legislatures, as soon as they assembled, and the most distinguished of our retired patriots, hastened to pay their profoundest respects to the illustrious dead, and freely acknowledge him to have been superior to any of their number. An American lawyer had died; and, with the same consent, all the courts in the country, then in session, or immediately upon their being opened, passed resolutions of honor to his memory; and the first jurists of the nation, with the most able and noted advocates, as well as every class and individual connected with our tribunals, seemed to be in haste to free their breasts and tell the world, that they had lost a man whose equal had not been known among them. An orator and writer had gone; and all the orators of the land, and the writers of greatest talent, and highest genius, and proudest reputation, appeared tc have a burden upon their hearts, till they had proclaimed hiın, from Maine to California, the sublimest speaker and the ablest writer of his country. A patriot had departed, whose birth had occurred amidst the scenes of the American Revolution, whose ancestors had fought in the battles of that mighty period, whose political career had covered nearly two-thirds of the history of the government, and whose personal services had been all devoted to the establishment of the constitution and the perpetuation of our liberties; and, upon the first announcement of the nation's loss, the most patriotic of our citizens, in every state and territory, from ocean to ocean, hastened together in solemn assemblies to declare to each other, and to all countries, that they VOL. I. 2 mourned the departure of their most fearless, unselfish, and useful fellow citizen. That citizen had been, through life, so much from his family abode, and so constantly employed in public business, as to have left doubtful his relations to the christian church, though his views of christianity itself had been frequently expressed; but, on his burial day, when his family and friends, when his immediate neighbors who knew him best, with the devout pastor of the parish at their head, while shedding their tears upon his grave, told how he had loved and read the bible, how he had reverenced the character of God, how he had led for years the devotions of the domestic circle, with what patience and submission he had borne the distresses of the sick bed, with what emphatic terms he had given his last testimony to the truth of the christian religion, and with what fervor and earnestness he had committed his spirit, in the closing hour, to the care and protection of his Maker and Redeemer, a new phase of the great man's character came to light, a new chord was touched in the general heart. The pulpits of more than fifty denominations, of every christian body with scarcely an exception, united with the acclamations of a whole people, in pronouncing the national eulogy upon him, who, for nearly half a century, had been acknowledged as the first and foremost of the nation. Such a vast amount of panegyric, so general and universal an expression of respect, of mourning, and of eulogy, would be more than enough to establish the immortality of any individual. There is now no other American, there is now no Englishman, there is no European, who could not afford to exchange all he hopes, and all he is likely to obtain, of posthu mous fame, for what has been said, and written, and published of the fallen statesman, since the day of his decease. Could all the well-earned praise that has been heaped upon him, for almost half a century, be blotted out and forgotten, what has Deen said within a few months would be an equivalent for all |