was given up, and a large and fashion- in the maddening excitement of the able house in Cleveland Row engaged gaming table. Such a fevered life could in its stead. In 1829 he produced the be sustained only by artificial aid. Powthird series of his "Sayings and Doings;" erful stimulants were resorted to. The and in the following year "Maxwell," remembrance of the previous night's a novel. For each of these works he losses had to be effaced by ardent received £1,000. Now was the time, spirits in the morning. Preparations it might have been thought, for Hook for the evening demanded a renewal of to prove that early experience had not the same assistance. His constitution, been lost upon him; that past reckless- naturally strong, now began to give way. ness had taught him lessons of prudence; His mental energies felt the shock. but his mind seemed to scorn the teach- Years of excitement and dissipation ings it had received. He had plunged were leaving their marks upon the mind; into a whirl of excitement and gaiety. writing their tale of triumph upon the He had again become a lion of fashion- tablets of the brain, and crushing the able society. He was again welcomed moral and material man in one common to great men's houses. He was again ruin. The pen trembled within the that" dear Theodore," who years before shaking hand. The ideas that might had sung himself into the hearts of the have given it strength and firmness beauties of May Fair. Notwithstanding trembled also. Hook wrote but little the large income he was now making, more. In 1840 he published a series his reckless mode of life and his profuse of papers, under the title of "Precepts expenditure soon began to make serious and Practice." A portion of " Peregrine inroads upon his finances. Salary was Bunce" followed. He projected a Hisanticipated; money borrowed at any tory of the House of Hanover, and a rate of interest; but debts accumulated life of his friend, the comedian Matwith fearful rapidity, and after strug-thews, but owing to some misundergling on until 1831, the fashionable standing, did not commence the former house was at last given up, and surbur- work, and finished only the first chapter ban seclusion once more sought. of the latter. He was rapidly going down the hill of life, and becoming unfit for any mental exertion. "Ah, I see I look as I am," said he, at a fashionable party at Brompton, while surveying himself in a mirror, "done up in purse, He in mind, and in body too, at last." The necessity now for working hard with the pen, in order to battle against the debts which attacked him on every side, stimulated Hook to great exertion. He was not an indolent man, and he now first began to show it. In 1832 he produced "The life of Sir David Baird," in two large 8vo. volumes. In the following year he wrote six volumes: "The Parson's Daughter," three vols., and "Love and Pride," three vols. In 1836 appeared "Jack Brag," in three vols. In the same year he commenced editing "The New Monthly Magazine," The long dormant claim of the Crown with a salary of £400 a year, exclusive was now enforced, and all the personal of sums to be paid for original compo- property which Hook had left was sitions. In the pages of this periodical seized and sold. His children and "Gilbert Gurney" appeared, and after their mother were not suffered to rewards "Gurney Married." In 1839 he main in want. A subscription was imwrote "Births, Deaths, and Marriages," mediately raised, and although but few for which he received £600; although of the wit's titled friends contributed to the book scarcely paid expenses. But it, a considerable sum was obtained his labours were but of little use. He without their assistance. To the howorked hard, and received large sums, but they were almost immediately squandered away. He was still to be seen, night after night, in the houses of his aristocratic admirers, amusing the heartless circle by the variety and excellence of his amusing powers, and early dawn too often found him engaged nour of a very high dignitary of the Church of England, a bishop, not unknown, and not without this detractor, it may be mentioned, that he was the last at the bedside of the dying wit, and the only one of the titled friends who did not desert him. Through the influence of this bishop, the children and their mother received the proceeds of a subscription, made larger by the benevolent prelate himself. to amuse them, never for a moment regarding him as an equal. Yet he strove hard for his position, and renMuch of the fame which Hook gained dered the most essential services to his in his lifetime perished with him. As party. His early success in obtaining a brilliant wit and wonderful improvi- a sinecure place, which he probably satore he was probably never surpassed; once looked upon as the most fortunate but a large amount of the talent he dis- circumstance in the world, turned out played was of that nature which finds a to be the very rock upon which he ready recognition from contemporaries, split,-the very fact of his living with but which another generation scarcely a government debt hanging, like the acknowledges. His dramatic produc- sword of Damocles, continually over tions, those precocious evidences of his head, served but to make him the ability, were written for the hour, and more careless and the more inconsiderwith the hour have passed away. It is ate. He had also a moral wrong at his in his novels, therefore, that we must back, and no man prospers with that. look for the evidences of his genius. Each child that was born to him he And here we think contemporary criti- injured, for he marked it with the cism has judged him too favourably. stigma of illegitimacy. The lady whom His works, thrown off hurriedly without he lived with as his wife, seduced by allowing sufficient time to restrain that himself, had with him as her portion exuberance of spirit which tempted a continual shame, and must have sat him into all kinds of extravagance, are, at the head of his table with a heart at the best, but sketches; overlaid in oppressed with the most painful feelmany instances with a profusion of co-ings. Yet through this Hook lived on, louring, intended to conceal the poverty the professed diner-out, the man who of the original design. "Cousin Wil- pleased all, without whom a dinner liam," and "Martha, the Gipsy," con- party was not complete, for invitations tain many forcible passages-but a were expressly given "to meet Mr. melo-dramatic vein runs throughout, Hook." It is this part of his life which which mars, by its unreality, much that is the most painful; these are the facts, is otherwise genuine. He had a low which make not only the moralist but idea of the place and position of an au- the man, judge him as a coward, and thor, and seems never to have dreamt condemn him as a knave. His life is of teaching anything high or moral, or, indeed a sad one, but he had nursed the indeed, of anything else, than mere fila- scorpions which stung him, and he, gree sketches of fashionable and, we re-alas! was not the only one to suffer. gret to say, vicious life. Probably the novel of "Maxwell" is his best and most even production, although by no means the brightest or most startling. What he did, with one exception, "The Life of Kelly," was done for money, and money was his reward. After serving great men, without any conscientious scruples about the dirty work he did, when that work was done, he got deservedly neglected. He was admired and invited to amuse, and with the amusement the connection ceased. In reviewing the life of Hook, the reader cannot but be struck with the lesson and the moral which it teaches, that the most brilliant talents and success are often but meteors which allure those who too eagerly follow them, to destruction. The flattering notice of a prince rendered his home but dull in comparison to the society of the aristocracy, and these received him merely In his humour broad farce preponderates. We are rarely taken out of sight of the foot-lights. His best scenes savour of the stage and we almost unconsciously invest his characters with the peculiarities of a Liston or Mathews, as being essential to the complete realiization of the author's conception, and thus one of his best characters, Hulls, in "Gilbert Gurney," becomes far more amusing when we know all about old Mr. Hill, who sat for the portrait. There is a dash, a hastiness about Hook's novels-an evident want of concentrated thought and systematic arrangement, which, redeemed as it is by much spirited wit, and by many highly wrought scenes of passion, leaves an imperfect impression upon the mind. The constant excitement in which he lived breathed its spirit into his pages, but the flush which it gave them was not, we fear, the sign of life, but rather of quick decay, DANIEL WEBSTER. Ar a time when the relations between England and America are looked at with interest, and when that vast and increasing country is regarded as our natural ally, in the event of a combination of the despotic powers against us, it was not unnatural that the death of one of her greatest statesmen, and of one who was brought immediately into contact with our government in the important settlement of the Oregon question, should be looked at with interest, and the events of his life should be inquired after with some curiosity. On the other side of the Atlantic ocean his loss was felt as national. The whole of the press teemed with memorials and reviews of his life; and what was more honourable to him, even those most opposed to him politically, --and America it must be remembered is a country wherein party spirit runs high, were the first to offer their testimony to his talent, his integrity, and his thorough political honesty. A man who could so interest a vast country, so pervade the hearts of his fellow men, must needs be remarkable; and such indeed was DANIEL WEBSTER. In tracing his life, we shall find how unvarying an accompaniment is success to industry and determination, and we shall read some useful lessons, in the history of one who commenced life as a schoolmaster, and rose to Secretary of state, to our own too exclusive and aristocratic government. One of the very first settlers in New Hampshire was Thomas Webster, who had himself come originally from Scotland, and whose character, earnest, stern and unbending, seems to have fallen upon his descendants. From this same Thomas proceeded in the direct male line, Ebenezer Webster, an old revolutionary soldier, serving as a captain under Major-General Henk, and who finally died whilst performing the duties of the judge of the Court of Common Pleas, in New Hampshire; leaving by his second wife, Abigail Eastman, a lady of a Welsh family, five children, three daughters and two boys, Ezekiel and Daniel Webster. The younger of these, and the subject of this paper, was born on the 18th of January, 1782, in the town of Salisbury, Merrimac county, New Hamp shire. In a speech delivered by him in 1840, at Saratoga, Mr. Webster himself alluded, with evident pride, to his birthplace, a very humble farm-house, and to the lowly condition of his family at the time: "It did not happen to me to be born in a log cabin; but my elder brothers and sisters were born in a log cabin raised amid the snow-drifts of New Hampshire, at a period so early as that, when the smoke first rose from its rude chimney, and curled over the frozen hills, there was no similar evidence of a white man's habitation between it and the settlements on the rivers of Canada. Its remains still exist. I make to it an annual visit. I carry my children to it, to teach them the hardships endured by the generations which have gone before them. I love to dwell on the tender recollections, the kindred ties, the early affections, and the touching narratives and incidents which mingle with all I know of this primitive family abode. I weep to think that none of those who inhabited it are now living; and if ever I am ashamed of it, or if I ever fail in affectionate veneration for him who reared it, and defended it against savage violence and destruction, cherished all the domestic virtues beneath its roof, and, through the fire and blood of a seven years' revolutionary war, shrunk from no danger, no toil, no sacrifice, to serve his country, and to raise his children to a better condition than his own, may my name, and the name of my posterity, be blotted for ever from the memory of mankind."* His earlier youth appears to have been entirely spent under the guidance of his mother, who, on account of his weakness, herself superintended his education at that period. His father, like many other American gentlemen, turned, it would appear, every possible source of income to account, being himself but a poor man: a fact, which made him also take out his son to help him in his business, when he should have been at school. But by this Webster lost little, as the following anecdote will testify: "Near his birthplace and in the bed of a little brook are the remains of an * Webster's Speeches, 6 vols. Boston. old mill which once stood in a dark glen, and was then surrounded by a majestic forest which covered the neighbouring hills. The mill was a source of income to Ebenezer Webster, and he kept it in operation. To that mill, Daniel, though a small boy, went daily to assist his father in sawing boards. He was apt in learning anything useful, and soon became so expert in doing everything required, that his services, as an assistant, were valuable. But his time was not mispent or misapplied. After setting the saw and hoisting the gate,' and while the saw was passing through the log from end to end, which occupied from ten to fifteen minutes for each board, Daniel was usually seen reading attentively the books in the way of history and biography which he was permitted to take from the house. 66 There, in that old saw-mill, surrounded by forests, in the midst of the great noise which such a mill makes, and this, too, without materially neg. lecting his task, he made himself familiar with the most remarkable events recorded by the pen of history, and with the lives and characters of the most celebrated persons who had lived in the olden time. He has never forgotten what he read there. So tenacious is his memory, that it is said by those who know, he could recite long passages from, and state with accuracy the contents of, pages in the old books which he read there and had scarcely looked at since."* Even at so early an age, there seemed with the future statesman, a perfect consciousness of the value of life, and, what seems stranger possibly to us than to his own countrymen, where boyish foresight is not uncommon, a complete knowledge of the ways by which that life was to be made rich, honourable, and successful; for he himself has told us, that when a mere boy, the motto which prompted all his conduct was : "Since I know nothing, and have nothing, I must learn and earn." His education was, it would seem, the average education of an American citizen, the difference consisting, as it in truth does with most of us, in the use made of the time occupied in education. After being under various masters, of whom perhaps the most known was Joseph S. Buckminster, he went to college. Of the puerile and intensely * Personal Memorials of Daniel Webster. dull stories told of him at this period in the "Personal Memorials," published at Philadelphia, we relate nothing, the book having nothing curious about it but its benighting dulness. In 1797 the future statesman entered Dartmouth College as a freshman. The students of that day were very different from the smart and dandified youths of our time. Daniel set out in a suit entirely of domestic manufacture, mounted upon the least valuable of his father's horses, the one which could best be spared from the farm, and the whole of his wardrobe and library deposited in two saddle-bags. Through rain and storm the student proceeded on his slow-paced nag, unmindful of the weather, being obliged to join at the commencement of term, and arrived at last in a very piteous condition. He joined his class the next day, and at once took his position, as a first-rate man, a position which he has since held in the intellectual world. He went through college in a manner creditable to himself, and gratifying to his friends. He graduated in 1801, and it was thought that he would receive the additional honour of the Valedictory; but this honour was bestowed upon some other, less distinguished in after life than his less fortunate rival. He received, however, a diploma, which "common-place compliment," to quote from one who knew him well, only displeased him. This authority indeed adds a story of his assembling his class-mates on the college green, and tearing up the honorary document with the exclamation, "My industry may make me a great man, but this miserable parchment cannot," an act which, if true, redounds by the way, very little to his credit. On his return from college, his leading wish seems to have been that his brother Ezekiel (a great love appears ever to have subsisted between the brothers) should have the benefit of a collegiate education as well as himself. But his father's circumstances were too poor to admit of this; and to accomplish it, Daniel accepted the situation of schoolmaster, with the determination of devoting part of his earnings towards the expenses of his brother's education. The place where Mr. Webster spent the most of his time as a schoolmaster was Freyburg, in the state of Maine. He had been invited thither by a friend of his father, who was acquainted with formidable to your enemies, and you the circumstances of the family. His will have nothing to fear." school was quite large, and his salary 350 dollars, to which he added a considerable sum by devoting his evenings to copying deeds in the office of the county recorder, at twenty-five cents per deed. He also found time during this period to go through with his first reading of Blackstone's Commentaries, and other substantial works, which have been so good a foundation to his after fame. At the drudgery of engrossing he laboured a great part of the night, and there now exist in his hand writing two large folios as proofs of his labours and industry. By economy at the end of the first year he was enabled to pay 100 dollars to support his brother at college. To add to this, Ezekiel taught an evening school for sailors at Boston as well as a private school. In the year 1805, and of course in the twenty-third year of his age, Mr. Webster was tendered the vacant clerkship of the Court of Common Pleas for the county of Hillsborough, New Hampshire. His father was one of the judges of court, and the appointment had been bestowed upon his son by his colleagues as a token of personal regard. The office was worth some 1500 dollars, which in those days and that section of country, was equal to the salary of secretary of state of the present day. The student listened attentively to these sound arguments, and had the good sense to appreciate them. His determination was immediately made; and now came the dreaded business of advising his father as to his intended course. He at once sought him and finding him alone spoke gaily about the office; expressed his great obligation to their honours, and his intention to write them a most respectful letter: if he could have consented to record any body's judgments, he should have been proud to have recorded their honours', &c., &c. He proceeded in this strain till his father exhibited signs of amaze ment, 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. certainly," replied his son. "I cannot think of doing otherwise. I mean to use my tongue in the courts, not my pen; to be an actor, not a registrar of other men's actions." "Most 4 "For a moment Judge Webster seemed angry. He rocked his chair slightly, a flash went over his eye, softened by age, but even then black as jet, but it soon disappeared, and his countenance regained its usual serenity. 'Well, my son,' said Judge Webster finally, your mother always said that you would come to something or nothing, become That son was then a student in the a somebody or a nobody; it is now settled office of Mr. Gore, in Boston. He re- that you are to be a nobody.' In a few ceived the news with sensations of glad- days the student returned to Boston, ness that he had never before experi- and the subject was never afterwards enced. With a throbbing heart he mentioned in the family."* announced the tidings to his legal coun- Not long after this, and in a surprissellor and friend, and to his utter aston-ingly short time to a European mind, ishment that far-seeing and sagacious who do not consider how rapidly things man expressed his utter disapprobation of the proposed change in his pursuits. "But my father is poor, and I wish to make him comfortable in his old age," replied the student. "That may all be," continued Mr. Gore, "but you should think of the future more than of the present. Become once a clerk and you will always be a clerk, with no prospect of attaining a higher position. Go on and finish your legal studies; you are indeed poor, but there are greater evils than poverty; live on no man's favour; what bread you do eat, let it be the bread of independence; pursue your profession; make yourself useful to the world and are carried forward in a new country like America, we find Mr. Webster accumulating sufficient money from his legal practice to pay the debts of his father; and after another short interval we find him in possession of a large practice at Portsmouth, doing the heaviest law business of any man in New Hampshire," retained in all the important causes, and but seldom appearing as a junior counsel. His powers as an advocate were at once conceded; but his manners at the bar were by some thought to be a little too severe and sharp, but there was no question * March's Reminiscences of Congress. |