THE POCKET-HANDKERCHIEF.

31

the house, which belonged to his father, in which he was put to work while yet a mere boy; but such a boy would soon learn to do any task, where mere skill is requisite, which could be intrusted to a man. There, after he had set the log and started the saw, he would sit and pore over his book, never forgetting however, to attend to every demand of his labor at the proper time. In these ways, before he was twelve years old, he had read extensively in history, in travels, and in the English clas sies; and such was the grasp of his mind, and the tenacity of his memory, that he understood and remembered nearly every thing he perused.

store.

and that was exactly the price

About this time, the boy chanced to be sent to a neighboring He there found a curiosity, or what was a curiosity tc him. It was a pocket-handkerchief, covered all over with something printed in good, fair type. All the money he had in the world was a quarter of a dollar; of this rare specimen of a book. Of course, the bookish boy bought the curious thing and took it home. That evening, and till very late, he sat by the large fire-place, in the presence of his father and mother, perusing, re-perusing, studying, committing to memory, the remarkable production thus obtained. What philosopher will reveal the impressions, the influences, the results of that memorable night? What artist will picture the event? It was Daniel Webster reading, for the first time, a copy of the constitution of his country!

At this period of his life, the future statesman could not bear an insult, or any thing like a personal opposition, any better than when, in after years, he made a senate and a party tremble at his frown. The story of his cock-fight is sufficient proof. One of his father's neighbors had a cock noted for his prowess. Among the feathery tribes he was the acknowledged monarch, and used to roam, with impunity, beyond the legitimate limits of his kingdom. More than once, at the head of his troop, he appeared on the territory belonging to a favorite fowl owned

by Daniel. Hostile encounters frequently occurred between the barn-yard rivals, in which Daniel's pet was nearly always worsted. The boy, who was but the ungrown man, took the defeats of his champion as his own; but he could not help himself, or turn the victory in his favor with a beaten combatant. He was greatly chagrined and even worried. At length, when on a visit to a distant relative, he heard of a cock famed all through those parts for his fighting propensities, and for his success in battle. Daniel at once purchased the pugnacious fowl, giving for it half a dollar, which was all his treasure. With his game-cock under his arm, though he had expected to spend several days on this visit, he promptly started for home. He had gone but a short distance, when he passed a yard well stocked with poultry, among which he saw a large cock strutting defiance to any thing that might venture to dispute his sway. Daniel thought it a good opportunity to test the value of his purchase. By a battle or two he could judge, with his own eyes, whether he was destined to meet with a victory at home. So, down went the cock from his arms, and the fight began. But it was soon over; and the reputation of the new champion was triumphantly maintained. Several similar engagements took place on the journey, for, as in graver contests, one victory feeds the martial spirit, and each triumph is the seed of future battles. Not far from the set of sun, after numerous exploits of this nature, in which the result had been constantly on the same side, the boy approached the yard where the only important engagement was to be fought, and the question of supremacy was to be fairly tried. His cool judgment dictated the propriety of giving his champion a night's rest; but he could not sleep with so weighty a matter on his mind. He could not endure suspense. So, down 'went the war-worn cock again, and the sparring at once began. "For a while," as the statesman has told the story to his friend, "the contest was an even one; but in ten minutes, he had the satisfaction of seeing his hero victo

LETIER TO HIS MASTER.

33

ricus. He saw the cock, against which he had the grudge, and which had again and again driven his own fowls from his own: yard, led about by the comb, in a manner as degrading as the old Romans led their conquered foes, while celebrating their triumphs of arms. Wellington, after the battle of Waterloo, was not better satisfied with the results of the day, than he was with the results of his day." Years after this event, the statesman, Daniel Webster, took to himself the credit of having a good talent for sleeping. That night, he undoubtedly slept well.

Numerous anecdotes are told to show, that Daniel Webster, the boy, was as quick and as pertinent at a repartee, as ever was Daniel Webster, the man, the orator, the debater of his times. On a certain occasion, Daniel and Ezekiel had retired to bed; but, having been engaged in a literary dispute during the evening, they continued the controversy in their room. Getting into a scuffle about a passage in one of their school books, they set their bed-clothes on fire. In the morning, they were severely questioned upon the matter. Ezekiel, a very bashful boy, took the reproof silently; but Daniel apologized by saying, that "they had only been in pursuit of light, of which, he confessed, they got more than they desired."

The first instructors that Daniel had at school were Thomas Chase and James Tappan. The former of these personages died many years ago; but the latter lived till after the decease of his most distinguished pupil. What influence Mr. Tappan had in opening the mind of his little pupil, is not cer tain; but whatever it was, or whether he performed any great part in the matter, Mr. Webster never forgot him, but seemed to remember him with gratitude. In 1851, the old pedagogue addressed a letter to the statesman, reminding him of their former connection. The statesman, though surrounded by the duties of his office, and overloaded with the cares of an empire,

promptly returned an answer, which enclosed a bank-bill for fifty dollars:

"MASTER TAPPAN,

"I thank you for your letter, and am rejoiced to know that you are among the living. I remember you perfectly well as a teacher of my infant years. I suppose my mother must have taught me to read very early, as I have never been able to recollect the time when I could not read the Bible. I think Master Chase was my earliest schoolmaster, probably when I was three or four years old. Then came Master Tappan. You boarded at our house, and sometimes, I think, in the family of Mr. Benjamin Sandborn, our neighbor, the lame man. Most of those whom you knew in 'New Salisbury' have gone to their graves. Mr. John Sandborn, the son of Benjamin, is yet living, and is about your age. Mr. John Colby, who married my sister Susannah, is also living. On the North Road is Mr. Benjamin Pettingil. I think of none else among the living whom you would probably remember. You have, indeed, lived a chequered life. I hope you have been able to bear prosperity with meekness, and adversity with patience. These things are all ordered for us far better than we could order them for ourselves. We may pray for our daily bread; we may pray for the forgiveness of sins; we may pray to be kept from temptation, and that the kingdom of God may come, in us, and in all men, and his will everywhere be done. Beyond this, we hardly know for what good to supplicate the divine mercy. Our heavenly Father knoweth what we have need of, better than we know ourselves; and we are sure that his eye and his loving kindness are upon us and around us every moment. I thank you again, my good old schoolmaster, for your kind letter, which has awakened many sleeping recollections; and, with all good wishes, I remain your friend and pupil,

"DANIEL WEBSTER."

VALUE OF LEARNING.

35

During all the years of Daniel's boyhood, his mother contin ued her efforts to instruct him so far as she was able, and undoubtedly gave him his first impressions respecting the value of a thorough education. The first impressions, however, were repeated and strengthened by the father. In a letter, written particularly to throw light upon this part of his history, the statesman has stated an incident, which must have been only a sample of many others: "Of a hot day in July—it must have been one of the last days of Washington's administration -I was making hay with my father, just where I now see a remaining elm tree, about the middle of the afternoon. The Hon. Abiel Foster, M. C., who lived in Canterbury, six miles off, called at the house, and came into the field to see my father. He was a worthy man, college learned, and had been a minister, but was not a person of any considerable natural powers. My father was his friend and supporter. He talked awhile in the field, and went on his way. When he was gone, my father called me to him, and we sat down beneath the elm on a hay-cock. He said, 'My son, that is a worthy man-he is a member of congress-he goes to Philadelphia, and gets six dollars a day, while I toil here. It is because he had an educacation, which I never had. If I had had his early education, I should have been in Philadelphia in his place. I came near it as it was. But I missed it; and now I must work here. 'My dear father,' said I, 'you shall not work. Brother and I will work for you, and wear our hands out, and you shall rest'and I remember to have cried, and I cry now, at the recollec tion. My child,' said he, 'it is of no importance to me—I now live but for my children; I could not give your elder bro ther the advantages of knowledge, but I can do something for you. Exert yourself-improve your opportunities—learn― learn-and when I am gone you will not need to go through the hardships which I have undergone, and which have made que an old man before my time." "

VOL. I.

B*

3