ment was accordingly entered up for the defendant. Thereupon, a writ of error was sued out by the plaintiffs in the original suit, and the cause removed to the Supreme Court of the United States. In March, 1818, the cause was argued before all the judges, by Mr. WEBSTER and Mr. Hopkinson for the plaintiffs, and by Mr. Holmes and Mr. Wirt for the defendant in error. The anxiety of the parties, the great constitutional principle involved, the deep interest felt by every lawyer in the country in the decision of the question, gave more notoriety to the cause than to any ever brought before that august tribunal. Some were apprehensive that the court would evade the question in some way or other. Mr. WEBSTER had no such fears. He knew the judges well enough to believe, that while they were not anxious to meet constitutional questions, whenever they were fully brought before them, the subject would be most solemnly considered and as fearlessly decided. The question was argued on both sides with great ability. The counsel were men of research, and their reputations were in the case; for it was well known, whatever way it was decided, it would form a leading case. Mr. WEBSTER came to his work fully possessed of all the views that could be taken of the subject, and he sustained and increased by this argument the reputation he had acquired as a profound constitutional lawyer. Chiefly through his acknowledged instrumentality, the judgment of the State court was reversed, the acts of the legislature declared null and void, as being unconstitutional. The university disappeared; the college rose with new vigor, and the people of New Hampshire acquiesced in the decision, and a great portion of the thinking people of the country considered it as a new proof of the wisdom and strength of the Constitution of the United States.*

Ever since the first free school was established amidst the woods that covered the peninsula of Boston, in 1636, the schoolmaster has been found on the border line, between savage and civilized life; often, indeed, with an axe to open his own path, but always looked up to with respect, and always carrying with him a valuable and preponderating influence. It is to this characteristic trait of New England policy that the country owes the first development of Mr. WEBSTER'S powers and the original determination of his whole course in life; for, unless the school had sought him in the forest, his father's means would not have been sufficient to send him into the settlements to seek the school. The first upward step, therefore, would have been wanting, and it is not at all probable that any

* Knapp's Life of Webster.

subsequent exertions on his part would have enabled him to retrieve it. The value of such a benefit cannot, indeed, be measured, but it seems to have been his good fortune to be able, at least in part, to repay it; for no man has explained with simplicity and force, as he has explained them, the very principles and foundations on which the free schools of New England and the Union rest; or shown, with such a feeling of their importance and value, how truly the free institutions of our country must be built on the education of all.*

As Mr. Webster has been a prominent politician for about forty years, it may gratify curiosity to know when and how he entered upon this important career. It was before he had attained his thirtieth year, when the times were stormy, and party spirit ran high in view of a war with Great Britain. He entered the field like one who had made up his mind to be decided, firm, and straight-forward in all his actions. No politician was ever more direct and bold, and he had nothing of the demagogue about him. Fully persuaded of the true course, he followed it with so much firmness and principle, that sometimes his serenity was taken by the furious and headstrong as apathy; but when a fair and legitimate opportunity offered, he came out with such strength and manliness, that the doubting were satisfied and the complaining silenced. In the worst of times and the darkest hour he had faith in the redeeming qualities of the people. They might be wrong, but he saw into their true character sufficiently to believe that they would never remain permanently in error. In some of his conversations upon the subject, he compared the people in the management of the national affairs to that of the sagacious and indefatigable raftsmen on his native Merrimac, who had falls and shoals to contend with in their course to the ocean-guiding fearlessly and skilfully over the former-between rocks and through breakers; and when reaching the sand banks jumping off into the water with lever, axe, and oar; and then with pushing, cutting, and directing, made all rub and go to the astonishment of those looking on.

The first halo of political glory that hung around his brow was at a convention of the great spirits in the county of Rockingham, where he then resided, and such representatives from other counties as were sent to this convention to take into consideration the state of the nation, and to mark out such a course for themselves as should be deemed advisable by the collected wisdom of those assembled. On this occasion an address with a string of resolutions were proposed for adoption, of which he was the

* American Quarterly Review.

author. They exhibited uncommon powers of intellect and a profound knowledge of our national interests. He made a most powerful speech in support of these resolutions, portions of which were printed at the time, and much admired throughout the Union. From this time he belonged to the United States and not to New Hampshire exclusively. Massachusetts also took as great an interest in his career as his native State. After the above debut crowds gathered around him on every occasion that he appeared, and his speeches were invariably received with the most sincere and heartfelt applause.*

It was in the year 1805, and of course in the twenty-third year of his age, that 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 said court, and the appointment had been bestowed upon his son by his colleagues as a token of personal regard. The office was worth some fifteen hundred dollars, which in those days, and that section of country, was equal to the salary of Secretary of State at the present time. Delighted with this realization of his most sanguine hopes, the father hastened to communicate the joyful intelligence to his

son.

That son was then a student in the office of Mr. Gore, in Boston. He received the news with sensations of gladness that he had never before experienced. With a loud throbbing heart he announced the tidings to his legal counsellor and friend, and to his utter astonishment that far-seeing and sagacious man expressed, in the most pointed manner, 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 favor; what bread you do eat, let it be the bread of independence; pursue your profession; make yourself useful to the world and formidable to your enemies, and you will have nothing to fear."

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

*Knapp's life.

course.

He felt that it would be a difficult task to satisfy him of its propriety, and he therefore determined to go home without delay, and give him in full all the reasons of his conduct.

In three days, in spite of the inclemency of the weather, for it was winter, he had reached the dwelling on Elms Farm. According to his own account, he arrived there in the evening, and found his father sitting before the fire. He received him with manifest joy. He looked feebler than he had ever appeared, 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, and with what unanimity all assented. During this speech, it can be well imagined how embarrassed Mr. WEBSTER felt, compelled, as he thought from a conviction of duty, to disappoint his father's sanguine expections. Nevertheless, 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 of 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."

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 a somebody or a nobody; it is now settled that you are to be a nobody." In a few days the student returned to Boston, and the subject was never afterwards mentioned in the family.*

Within six months after Mr. WEBSTER had declined the county court clerkship, he was, even as a student, in Mr. Gore's office, remarkably successful in accumulating money for his legal services, and being aware of the fact that his father was considerably embarrassed in his circumstances, he resolved to go home and liquidate all the pending claims. He

* March's Reminiscences of Congress.

arrived at home ostensibly for a friendly visit. It was Saturday night, and he sought an early opportunity to have a private interview with his father. "Father, I am going to pay your debts," said he. "O, my son, that can never be; you know not how numerous they are."

"But I can, and will, father; and that too before next Monday night.” On the Tuesday morning following, Judge Webster was a free man, and his son DANIEL was on his return to Boston.

At the time that Mr. WEBSTER quitted Portsmouth for Boston, he was doing the heaviest law business of any man in New Hampshire; he was retained in nearly all the important causes, and but seldom appeared as the junior counsel. His practice was chiefly in the circuit courts, and during the last six weeks of his labors, previous to his departure for Boston, his earnings amounted to only five hundred dollars. This was the result of a journey into every county in the State, and was really the primal cause of his removal to a wider sphere of action.

It was in the year 1817 that Mr. WEBSTER took up his permanent residence in Boston. During his career as a member of Congress his legal and private interests had materially suffered, and he felt the need of a broader field than Portsmouth for his future action. He had already become identified' with the interests of the New England metropolis, and the more opulent merchants doing business there were ready to employ him. Boston was then the residence of some of the first lawyers of the nation; such men for example as Dexter, Prescott, Sullivan, Shaw, Gorham, and Hubbard, and there seemed to be little room for another in the upper class of the legal fraternity; but Mr. WEBSTER seemed to walk into this distinguished company like one who had a right to be there, and, though many opened wide their eyes, none dared to question his right to be there. In a very few months his name appeared as senior counsel in many important causes, and he deported himself like one who was simply enjoying his birth-right. His practice was not confined to the county of Suffolk, but extended to the neighboring counties, and others in the interior of the State. His powers as an advocate and a lawyer were at once conceded, though some found fault with his manners at the bar as a little too severe and sharp; this, however, was soon forgotten in the admiration that everywhere followed him. The people were always with him, and few had the hardihood to declare themselves his rival.

As were his manners at the bar some thirty years ago, so are they now, whenever he appears in a deliberative assembly. He begins to state his points in a low voice, and in a slow, cool, cautious, and philosophical