liam Webster, where he gave them all the instruction they re quired, without materially retarding the pro ress of his own in tellectual pursuits. The act of teaching, in fact, was doubtless of great benefit to him at that time. It gave him a fine opportunity for reviewing his former studies; and it impressed upon his mind, more deeply than ever, the first rudiments of an English education, in which even our public men, and the greatest of them, are frequently deficient.

At the village of Boscawen, a place not far from Salisbury, lived the Rev. Samuel Wood, LL. D., a man of great learning, a patron of the young and aspiring, and an ardent friend of a liberal education. He graduated at Dartmouth, in 1779, with the highest honors of his class. His time, and talents, and means, were all devoted to the spread of piety and knowledge among the people of his charge. In the course of a long life, he is said to have helped, in one way or in another, more than one hundred and fifty pupils. Of these, more than a hundred entered college, nearly fifty became ministers of the gospel, about twenty became lawyers, some of whom were very eminent, and eight or ten became physicians. It is related, that, in his advanced years, he could count, among his older pupils, several governors, a number of councilors of state, some distinguished judges, and some members of congress. As an encourager of youth, as a mind to make his mark upon other minds, he was probably quite superior to Dr. Abbott. In his zeal for the cause of learning, he actually went about searching for the objects of his charity, and for those whose native abili ties gave promise of distinguished usefulness. Such a man could not fail to fall in with such a youth as Daniel Webster. The two met in Salisbury, and the result of the meeting could not be doubtful. Daniel soon after became a pupil of Dr. Wood, with whom he stayed several months, and who fully appreciated the remarkable capacities of his new acquaintance. The teacher had soon dore what was necessary to fit the scholar

IS TO GO TO COLLEGE.

47

for the university; but the idea of entering college, or of ever seeing more than the outside of one, had never dawned upon the highest summit of his ambition.

Dr. Wood, who was a prudent man, did not venture to men tion the matter of a college education to Daniel, until he had made due preparation for the announcement. He wrote to Dr. Abbott. Dr. Abbott replied to Dr. Wood. Dr. Wood, with the letter of Dr. Abbott, and with his own warm heart and judi cious head, went to Colonel Webster, the father of the youth, and laid his plan before him. It seemed to the father too great an undertaking. He was then poor, comparatively, at least not rich, when the size of his family is taken into consideration. He thought, too, that the act of sending one of his boys to college, while the others had had only the first rudiments of an education, would be an act of partiality. These, and all similar scruples, were finally overcome by the eloquence and zeal which accompanied the application. The question was at last decided. It was decided in the affirmative. Dr. Abbott and Dr. Wood were to open the door of Dartinouth; and Daniel Webster was to go to college.

The decision was made; but it was not reported to the one most interested. For several days, Daniel knew nothing of it. He was still studying his books, and pursuing his usual avocations, as if he was about finishing his literary course, pre paratory to his becoming a country schoolmaster. Colonel Webster seemed to be even coy about stating to Daniel the important result of his deliberations. The truth is, the father and the son were both exceedingly delicate in their sensibili ities; both would probably be moved by such a revelation; and a matter of this magnitude could not be mentioned by the one, or listened to by the other, excepting at a proper time, and under fitting circumstances. The time at length came. One day, as they were driving alone to Boscawen in a rude sleigh when the horses had slackened their speed in the ascent. of a

long hill, the secret was told: "I remember," says Daniel Webster, in his own account of the conversation, “the very hill which we were ascending, through deep snows, in a New England sleigh, when my father made known this purpose to me. I could not speak. How could he, I thought, with so large a family and in such narrow circumstances, think of incurring so great an expense for me. A warm glow ran all over me; and I laid my head on my father's shoulder and wept." What art ist will give the world a picture of this scene!

CHAPTER IV.

WEBSTER IN COLLEGE.

THE first appearance of Daniel Webster at Dartmouth has been given to the public by his class-mate, subsequently a mem ber of the Faculty of that college, Professor Shurtliff: "When 1 came to enter this Institution, in 1797, I put up, with others from the same academy, at what is now called the Olcott House, which was then a tavern. We were conducted to a chamber, where we might brush our clothes and make ready for examination. A young man, a stranger to us all, was soon ushered into the room. Similarity of object rendered the ordinary forms of introduction needless. We learned that his name was Webster, also where he had studied, and how much Latin and Greek he had read, which, I think, was just to the limit prescribed by law at that period, and which was very much below the present requisition."

Webster had come from home through a violent rain. He wore a suit of blue, dyed at home, as well as woven and made up at home. It need not be doubted, that the color of the cloth may not have been very fast, for the art of dyeing was not likely to be thoroughly understood, or well practiced, in the backwoods of New Hampshire at that time. Be this as it may, when Daniel arrived at his hotel, according to his own ac count, he made no figure calculated to help him in the presence of his examiners. The rain had completely soaked his gar ments; the indigo, which had taken only the slight hold mentioned on the texture of the cloth, had run down upon his limbs

The

and arms; and, in wiping the water from his face, he had spread the color over his eyes and around his mouth and chin. professors were waiting for him on his arrival. He had no time to make due preparation. Soaked with rain, his garments stiff and smoking, and his face spotted and smeared with indigo, he hastened to meet the Faculty, on their summons, to pass the great ordeal of his life. He has often laughed at the figure he cut that day, when, as he used to express it," he was not only black Dan but blue Dan." He is reported, nevertheless, to have passed a good examination. According to his usual manner, and in spite of the disadvantages of his appearance, he was entirely self-possessed. What he lacked in classical lore, he more than made up by the ease and dignity with which he related to his judges the early beginning of his education, how many books of the course he had read, what authors outside of it he had perused, and all the matters concurrent to the case in hand, which he narrated with as much eloquence, probably, simple and direct, as any of them had ever heard. His case was easily decided. If he was not the best scholar, which could hardly be expected of a youth prepared for college in about ten or eleven months, he was certainly the most remarkable and promising member of his class. This the professors all saw as soon as he stood up before them. plainly when they listened to his voice. to the testimony of two of his classmates, one of whom is still living, he was as dignified, as easy, as elegant, as he ever was in after life. His appeal to the Faculty, after his examination was concluded, and they were about to deliberate, as he thought, upon his merits, was exactly after the manner of his riper years. Referring to the haste, in which he had been summoned before them, and the unfortunate apsect he presented, he made use of language, which, before many a tribunal, would have gained the case: "Thus you see me," said he, “as I am, if not entitled to your approbation, at least to your sympathy."

They saw it more Even then, according