Kitabı oku: «Daniel Webster», sayfa 2

Two other college orations have been preserved. One is a eulogy on a classmate who died before finishing his course, the other is a discourse on "Opinion," delivered before the society of the "United Fraternity." There is nothing of especial moment in the thought of either, and the improvement in style over the Hanover speech, though noticeable, is not very marked. In the letters of that period, however, amid the jokes and fun, we see that Mr. Webster was already following his natural bent, and turning his attention to politics. He manifests the same spirit as in his oration, and shows occasionally an unusual maturity of judgment. His criticism of Hamilton's famous letter to Adams, to take the most striking instance, is both keen and sound.

After taking his degree in due course in 1801, Mr. Webster returned to his native village, and entered the office of a lawyer next door to his father's house, where he began the study of the law in compliance with his father's wish, but without any very strong inclination of his own. Here he read some law and more English literature, and passed a good deal of time in fishing and shooting. Before the year was out, however, he was obliged to drop his legal studies and accept the post of schoolmaster in the little town of Fryeburg, Maine.

This change was due to an important event in the Webster family which had occurred some time before. The affection existing between Daniel and his elder brother Ezekiel was peculiarly strong and deep. The younger and more fortunate son, once started in his education, and knowing the desire of his elder brother for the same advantages, longed to obtain them for him. One night in vacation, after Daniel had been two years at Dartmouth, the two brothers discussed at length the all-important question. The next day, Daniel broached the matter to his father. The judge was taken by surprise. He was laboring already under heavy pecuniary burdens caused by the expenses of Daniel's education. The farm was heavily mortgaged, and Ebenezer Webster knew that he was old before his time and not destined to many more years of life. With the perfect and self-sacrificing courage which he always showed, he did not shrink from this new demand, although Ezekiel was the prop and mainstay of the house. He did not think for a moment of himself, yet, while he gave his consent, he made it conditional on that of the mother and daughters whom he felt he was soon to leave. But Mrs. Webster had the same spirit as her husband. She was ready to sell the farm, to give up everything for the boys, provided they would promise to care in the future for her and their sisters. More utter self-abnegation and more cheerful and devoted self-sacrifice have rarely been exhibited, and it was all done with a simplicity which commands our reverence. It was more than should have been asked, and a boy less accustomed than Daniel Webster to the devotion of others, even with the incentive of brotherly love, might have shrunk from making the request. The promise of future support was easily made, but the hard pinch of immediate sacrifice had to be borne at once. The devoted family gave themselves up to the struggle to secure an education for the two boys, and for years they did battle with debt and the pressure of poverty. Ezekiel began his studies and entered college the year Daniel graduated; but the resources were running low, so low that the law had to be abandoned and money earned without delay; and hence the schoolmastership.

At no time in his life does Mr. Webster's character appear in a fairer or more lovable light than during this winter at Fryeburg. He took his own share in the sacrifices he had done so much to entail, and he carried it cheerfully. Out of school hours he copied endless deeds, an occupation which he loathed above all others, in order that he might give all his salary to his brother. The burden and heat of the day in this struggle for education fell chiefly on the elder brother in the years which followed; but here Daniel did his full part, and deserves the credit for it.

He was a successful teacher. His perfect dignity, his even temper, and imperturbable equanimity made his pupils like and respect him. The survivors, in their old age, recalled the impression he made upon them, and especially remembered the solemn tones of his voice at morning and evening prayer, extemporaneous exercises which he scrupulously maintained. His letters at this time are like those of his college days, full of fun and good humor and kind feeling. He had his early love affairs, but was saved from matrimony by the liberality of his affections, which were not confined to a single object. He laughs pleasantly and good-naturedly over his fortunes with the fair sex, and talks a good deal about them, but his first loves do not seem to have been very deep or lasting. Wherever he went, he produced an impression on all who saw him. In Fryeburg it was his eyes which people seem to have remembered best. He was still very thin in face and figure, and he tells us himself that he was known in the village as "All-eyes;" and one of the boys, a friend of later years, refers to Mr. Webster's "full, steady, large, and searching eyes." There never was a time in his life when those who saw him did not afterwards speak of his looks, generally either of the wonderful eyes or the imposing presence.

There was a circulating library in Fryeburg, and this he read through in his usual rapacious and retentive fashion. Here, too, he was called on for a Fourth of July oration. This speech, which has been recently printed, dwells much on the Constitution and the need of adhering to it in its entirety. There is a distinct improvement in his style in the direction of simplicity, but there is no marked advance in thought or power of expression over the Hanover oration. Two months after delivering this address he returned to Salisbury and resumed the study of the law in Mr. Thompson's office. He now plunged more deeply into law books, and began to work at the law with zeal, while at the same time he read much and thoroughly in the best Latin authors. In the months which ensued his mind expanded, and ambition began to rise within him. His horizon was a limited one; the practice of his profession, as he saw it carried on about him, was small and petty; but his mind could not be shackled. He saw the lions in the path plainly, but he also perceived the great opportunities which the law was to offer in the United States, and he prophesied that we, too, should soon have our Mansfields and Kenyons. The hand of poverty was heavy upon him, and he was chafing and beating his wings against the iron bars with which circumstances had imprisoned him. He longed for a wider field, and eagerly desired to finish his studies in Boston, but saw no way to get there, except by a "miracle."

This miracle came through Ezekiel, who had been doing more for himself and his family than any one else, but who, after three years in college, was at the end of his resources, and had taken, in his turn, to keeping school. Daniel went to Boston, and there obtained a good private school for his brother. The salary thus earned by Ezekiel was not only sufficient for himself, but enabled Daniel to gratify the cherished wish of his heart, and come to the New England capital to conclude his professional studies.

The first thing to be done was to gain admittance to some good office. Mr. Webster was lucky enough to obtain an introduction to Mr. Gore, with whom, as with the rest of the world, that wonderful look and manner, apparent even then, through boyishness and rusticity, stood him in good stead. Mr. Gore questioned him, trusted him, and told him to hang up his hat, begin work as clerk at once, and write to New Hampshire for his credentials. The position thus obtained was one of fortune's best gifts to Mr. Webster. It not only gave him an opportunity for a wide study of the law under wise supervision, but it brought him into daily contact with a trained barrister and an experienced public man. Christopher Gore, one of the most eminent members of the Boston bar and a distinguished statesman, had just returned from England, whither he had been sent as one of the commissioners appointed under the Jay treaty. He was a fine type of the aristocratic Federalist leader, one of the most prominent of that little group which from the "headquarters of good principles" in Boston so long controlled the politics of Massachusetts. He was a scholar, gentleman, and man of the world, and his portrait shows us a refined, high-bred face, suggesting a French marquis of the eighteenth century rather than the son of a New England sea-captain. A few years later, Mr. Gore was chosen governor of Massachusetts, and defeated when a candidate for reëlection, largely, it is supposed, because he rode in a coach and four (to which rumor added outriders) whenever he went to his estate at Waltham. This mode of travel offended the sensibilities of his democratic constituents, but did not prevent his being subsequently chosen to the Senate of the United States, where he served a term with much distinction. The society of such a man was invaluable to Mr. Webster at this time. It taught him many things which he could have learned in no other way, and appealed to that strong taste for everything dignified and refined which was so marked a trait of his disposition and habits. He saw now the real possibilities which he had dreamed of in his native village; and while he studied law deeply and helped his brother with his school, he also studied men still more thoroughly and curiously. The professional associates and friends of Mr. Gore were the leaders of the Boston bar when it had many distinguished men whose names hold high places in the history of American law. Among them were Theophilus Parsons, Chief Justice of Massachusetts; Samuel Dexter, the ablest of them all, fresh from service in Congress and the Senate and as Secretary of the Treasury; Harrison Gray Otis, fluent and graceful as an orator; James Sullivan, and Daniel Davis, the Solicitor-General. All these and many more Mr. Webster saw and watched, and he has left in his diary discriminating sketches of Parsons and Dexter, whom he greatly admired, and of Sullivan, of whom he had a poor opinion professionally.

Towards the end of the year 1804, while Mr. Webster was thus pleasantly engaged in studying his profession, getting a glimpse of the world, and now and then earning a little money, an opening came to him which seemed to promise immediate and assured prosperity. The judges of his father's court of common pleas offered him the vacant clerkship, worth about fifteen hundred dollars annually. This was wealth to Mr. Webster. With this income he could relieve the family from debt, make his father's last years comfortable, and smooth Ezekiel's path to the bar. When, however, he announced his good luck to Mr. Gore, and his intention of immediately going home to accept the position, that gentleman, to Mr. Webster's great surprise, strongly urged a contrary course. He pointed out the possible reduction of the salary, the fact that the office depended on the favor of the judges, and, above all, that it led to nothing, and destroyed the chances of any really great career. This wise mentor said: "Go on and finish your studies. You are poor enough, 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 your friends and a little formidable to your enemies, and you have nothing to fear." Mr. Webster, always susceptible to outside influences, saw the wisdom of this advice, and accepted it. It would have been well if he had never swerved even by a hair's breadth from the high and sound principles which it inculcated. He acted then without delay. Going at once to Salisbury, he broke the news of his unlooked-for determination to his father, who was utterly amazed. Pride in his son's high spirit mingled somewhat with disappointment at the prospect of continued hardships; but the brave old man accepted the decision with the Puritan stoicism which was so marked a trait in his character, and the matter ended there.

Returning to Boston, Mr. Webster was admitted to the bar in March, 1805. Mr. Gore moved his admission, and, in the customary speech, prophesied his student's future eminence with a sure knowledge of the latent powers which had dictated his own advice in the matter of the clerkship. Soon after this, Mr. Webster returned to New Hampshire and opened his office in the little town of Boscawen, in order that he might be near his father. Here he devoted himself assiduously to business and study for more than two years, working at his profession, and occasionally writing articles for the "Boston Anthology." During this time he made his first appearance in court, his father being on the bench. He gathered together a practice worth five or six hundred a year, a very creditable sum for a young country practitioner, and won a reputation which made him known in the State.

In April, 1806, after a noble, toiling, unselfish life of sixty-seven years, Ebenezer Webster died. Daniel assumed his father's debts, waited until Ezekiel was admitted to the bar, and then, transferring his business to his brother, moved, in the autumn of 1807, to Portsmouth. This was the principal town of the State, and offered, therefore, the larger field which he felt he needed to give his talents sufficient scope. Thus the first period in his life closed, and he started out on the extended and distinguished career which lay before him. These early years had been years of hardship, but they were among the best of his life. Through great difficulties and by the self-sacrifice of his family, he had made his way to the threshold of the career for which he was so richly endowed. He had passed an unblemished youth; he had led a clean, honest, hard-working life; he was simple, manly, affectionate. Poverty had been a misfortune, not because it had warped or soured him, for he smiled at it with cheerful philosophy, nor because it had made him avaricious, for he never either then or at any time cared for money for its own sake, and nothing could chill the natural lavishness of his disposition. But poverty accustomed him to borrowing and to debt, and this was a misfortune to a man of Mr. Webster's temperament. In those early days he was anxious to pay his debts; but they did not lie heavy upon him or carry a proper sense of responsibility, as they did to Ezekiel and to his father. He was deeply in debt; his books, even, were bought with borrowed money, all which was natural and inevitable; but the trouble was that it never seems to have weighed upon him or been felt by him as of much importance. He was thus early brought into the habit of debt, and was led unconsciously to regard debts and borrowing as he did the sacrifices of others, as the normal modes of existence. Such a condition was to be deplored, because it fostered an unfortunate tendency in his moral nature. With this exception, Mr. Webster's early years present a bright picture, and one which any man had a right to regard with pride and affection.

CHAPTER II.
LAW AND POLITICS IN NEW HAMPSHIRE

The occasion of Mr. Webster's first appearance in court has been the subject of varying tradition. It is certain, however, that in the counties where he practised during his residence at Boscawen, he made an unusual and very profound impression. The effect then produced is described in homely phrase by one who knew him well. The reference is to a murder trial, in which Mr. Webster gained his first celebrity.

"There was a man tried for his life, and the judges chose Webster to plead for him; and, from what I can learn, he never has spoken better than he did there where he first began. He was a black, raven-haired fellow, with an eye as black as death's, and as heavy as a lion's,—that same heavy look, not sleepy, but as if he didn't care about anything that was going on about him or anything anywhere else. He didn't look as if he was thinking about anything, but as if he would think like a hurricane if he once got waked up to it. They say the lion looks so when he is quiet…. Webster would sometimes be engaged to argue a case just as it was coming to trial. That would set him to thinking. It wouldn't wrinkle his forehead, but made him restless. He would shift his feet about, and run his hand up over his forehead, through his Indian-black hair, and lift his upper lip and show his teeth, which were as white as a hound's."

Of course the speech so admired then was infinitely below what was done afterwards. The very next was probably better, for Mr. Webster grew steadily. This observer, however, tells us not what Mr. Webster said, but how he looked. It was the personal presence which dwelt with every one at this time.

Thus with his wonderful leonine look and large, dark eyes, and with the growing fame which he had won, Mr. Webster betook himself to Portsmouth. He had met some of the leading lawyers already, but now he was to be brought into direct and almost daily competition with them. At that period in New England there was a great rush of men of talent to the bar, then casting off its colonial fetters and emerging to an independent life. The pulpit had ceased to attract, as of old; medicine was in its infancy; there were none of the other manifold pursuits of to-day, and politics did not offer a career apart. Outside of mercantile affairs, therefore, the intellectual forces of the old Puritan commonwealths, overflowing with life, and feeling the thrill of youthful independence and the confidence of rapid growth in business, wealth, and population, were concentrated in the law. Even in a small State like New Hampshire, presenting very limited opportunities, there was, relatively speaking, an extraordinary amount of ability among the members of the bar, notwithstanding the fact that they had but just escaped from the condition of colonists. Common sense was the divinity of both the courts and the profession. The learning was not extensive or profound, but practical knowledge, sound principles, and shrewd management were conspicuous. Jeremiah Smith, the Chief Justice, a man of humor and cultivation, was a well read and able judge; George Sullivan was ready of speech and fertile in expedients; and Parsons and Dexter of Massachusetts, both men of national reputation, appeared from time to time in the New Hampshire courts. Among the most eminent was William Plumer, then Senator, and afterwards Governor of the State, a well-trained, clear-headed, judicious man. He was one of Mr. Webster's early antagonists, and defeated him in their first encounter. Yet at the same time, although a leader of the bar and a United States Senator, he seems to have been oppressed with a sense of responsibility and even of inequality by this thin, black-eyed young lawyer from the back country. Mr. Plumer was a man of cool and excellent judgment, and he thought that Mr. Webster on this occasion was too excursive and declamatory. He also deemed him better fitted by mind and temperament for politics than for the law, an opinion fully justified in the future, despite Mr. Webster's eminence at the bar. In another case, where they were opposed, Mr. Plumer quoted a passage from Peake's "Law of Evidence." Mr. Webster criticised the citation as bad law, pronounced the book a miserable two-penny compilation, and then, throwing it down with a fine disdain, said, "So much for Mr. Thomas Peake's compendium of the 'Law of Evidence.'" Such was his manner that every one present appeared to think the point settled, and felt rather ashamed of ever having heard of Mr. Peake or his unfortunate book. Thereupon Mr. Plumer produced a volume of reports by which it appeared that the despised passage was taken word for word from one of Lord Mansfield's decisions. The wretched Peake's character was rehabilitated, and Mr. Webster silenced. This was an illustration of a failing of Mr. Webster at that time. He was rough and unceremonious, and even overbearing, both to court and bar, the natural result of a new sense of power in an inexperienced man. This harshness of manner, however, soon disappeared. He learned rapidly to practise the stately and solemn courtesy which distinguished him through life.

There was one lawyer, however, at the head of his profession in New Hampshire, who had more effect upon Mr. Webster than any other whom he ever met there or elsewhere. This was the man to whom the Shaker said: "By thy size and thy language¹ I judge that thou art Jeremiah Mason." Mr. Mason was one of the greatest common-lawyers this country has ever produced. Keen and penetrating in intellect, he was master of a relentless logic and of a style which, though simple and homely, was clear and correct to the last point. Slow and deliberate in his movements, and sententious in his utterances, he dealt so powerfully with evidence and so lucidly with principles of law that he rarely failed to carry conviction to his hearers. He was particularly renowned for his success in getting verdicts. Many years afterwards Mr. Webster gave it as his deliberate opinion that he had never met with a stronger intellect, a mind of more native resources or quicker and deeper vision than were possessed by Mr. Mason, whom in mental reach and grasp and in closeness of reasoning he would not allow to be second even to Chief Justice Marshall. Mr. Mason on his side, with his usual sagacity, at once detected the great talents of Mr. Webster. In the first case where they were opposed, a murder trial, Mr. Webster took the place of the Attorney-General for the prosecution. Mr. Mason, speaking of the impression made by his youthful and then unknown opponent, said:—

"He broke upon me like a thunder shower in July, sudden, portentous, sweeping all before it. It was the first case in which he appeared at our bar; a criminal prosecution in which I had arranged a very pretty defence, as against the Attorney-General, Atkinson, who was able enough in his way, but whom I knew very well how to take. Atkinson being absent, Webster conducted the case for him, and turned, in the most masterly manner, the line of my defences, carrying with him all but one of the jurors, so that I barely saved my client by my best exertions. I was nevermore surprised than by this remarkable exhibition of unexpected power. It surpassed, in some respects, anything which I have ever since seen even in him."

With all his admiration for his young antagonist, however, one cannot help noticing that the generous and modest but astute counsel for the defence ended by winning his case.

Fortune showered many favors upon Mr. Webster, but none more valuable than that of having Jeremiah Mason as his chief opponent at the New Hampshire bar. Mr. Mason had no spark of envy in his composition. He not only regarded with pleasure the great abilities of Mr. Webster, but he watched with kindly interest the rapid rise which soon made this stranger from the country his principal competitor and the champion commonly chosen to meet him in the courts. He gave Mr. Webster his friendship, staunch and unvarying, until his death; he gave freely also of his wisdom and experience in advice and counsel. Best of all was the opportunity of instruction and discipline which Mr. Webster gained by repeated contests with such a man. The strong qualities of Mr. Webster's mind rapidly developed by constant practice and under such influences. He showed more and more in every case his wonderful instinct for seizing on the very heart of a question, and for extricating the essential points from the midst of confused details and clashing arguments. He displayed, too, more strongly every day his capacity for close, logical reasoning and for telling retort, backed by a passion and energy none the less effective from being but slowly called into activity. In a word, the unequalled power of stating facts or principles, which was the predominant quality of Mr. Webster's genius, grew steadily with a vigorous vitality while his eloquence developed in a similar striking fashion. Much of this growth and improvement was due to the sharp competition and bright example of Mr. Mason. But the best lesson that Mr. Webster learned from his wary yet daring antagonist was in regard to style. When he saw Mr. Mason go close to the jury box, and in a plain style and conversational manner, force conviction upon his hearers, and carry off verdict after verdict, Mr. Webster felt as he had never done before the defects of his own modes of expression. His florid phrases looked rather mean, insincere, and tasteless, besides being weak and ineffective. From that time he began to study simplicity and directness, which ended in the perfection of a style unsurpassed in modern oratory. The years of Mr. Webster's professional life in Portsmouth under the tuition of Mr. Mason were of inestimable service to him.

Early in this period, also, Mr. Webster gave up his bachelor existence, and made for himself a home. When he first appeared at church in Portsmouth the minister's daughter noted and remembered his striking features and look, and regarded him as one with great capacities for good or evil. But the interesting stranger was not destined to fall a victim to any of the young ladies of Portsmouth. In the spring of 1808 he slipped away from his new friends and returned to Salisbury, where, in May, he was married. The bride he brought back to Portsmouth was Grace Fletcher, daughter of the minister of Hopkinton. Mr. Webster is said to have seen her first at church in Salisbury, whither she came on horseback in a tight-fitting black velvet dress, and looking, as he said, "like an angel." She was certainly a very lovely and charming woman, of delicate and refined sensibilities and bright and sympathetic mind. She was a devoted wife, the object of her husband's first and strongest love, and the mother of his children. It is very pleasant to look at Mr. Webster in his home during these early years of his married life. It was a happy, innocent, untroubled time. He was advancing in his profession, winning fame and respect, earning a sufficient income, blessed in his domestic relations, and with his children growing up about him. He was social by nature, and very popular everywhere. Genial and affectionate in disposition, he attached everybody to him, and his hearty humor, love of mimicry, and fund of anecdote made him a delightful companion, and led Mr. Mason to say that the stage had lost a great actor in Webster.

But while he was thus enjoying professional success and the contented happiness of his fireside, he was slowly but surely drifting into the current of politics, whither his genius led him, and which had for him an irresistible attraction. Mr. Webster took both his politics and his religion from his father, and does not appear to have questioned either. He had a peculiarly conservative cast of mind. In an age of revolution and scepticism he showed no trace of the questioning spirit which then prevailed. Even in his earliest years he was a firm believer in existing institutions, in what was fixed and established. He had a little of the disposition of Lord Thurlow, who, when asked by a dissenter why, being a notorious free-thinker, he so ardently supported the Established Church, replied: "I support the Church of England because it is established. Establish your religion, and I'll support that." But if Mr. Webster took his religion and politics from his father in an unquestioning spirit, he accepted them in a mild form. He was a liberal Federalist because he had a wide mental vision, and by nature took broad views of everything. His father, on the other hand, was a rigid, intolerant Federalist of a thorough-going Puritan type. Being taken ill once in a town of Democratic proclivities, he begged to be carried home. "I was born a Federalist," he said, "I have lived a Federalist, and I won't die in a Democratic town." In the same way Ezekiel Webster's uncompromising Federalism shut him out from political preferment, and he would never modify his principles one jot in order to gain the seat in Congress which he might easily have obtained by slight concessions. The broad and liberal spirit of Daniel Webster rose superior to the rigid and even narrow opinions of his father and brother, but perhaps it would have been better for him if he had had in addition to his splendid mind the stern, unbending force of character which made his father and brother stand by their principles with immovable Puritan determination. Liberal as he was, however, in his political opinions, the same conservative spirit which led him to adopt his creed made him sustain it faithfully and constantly when he had once accepted it. He was a steady and trusted party man, although neither then nor at any time a blind, unreasoning partisan.

Mr. Webster came forward gradually as a political leader by occasional addresses and speeches, at first with long intervals between them, and then becoming more frequent, until at last he found himself fairly engaged in a public career. In 1804, at the request of some of his father's friends, he published a pamphlet, entitled, "An Appeal to Old Whigs," in the interest of Gilman, the Federal candidate for governor. He seems to have had a very poor opinion of this performance, and his interest in the success of the party at that juncture was very slight. In 1805 he delivered a Fourth of July oration at Salisbury, which has not been preserved; and in the following year he gave another before the "Federal gentlemen" of Concord, which was published. The tone of this speech is not very partisan, nor does it exhibit the bitter spirit of the Federalists, although he attacked the administration, was violent in urging the protection of commerce, and was extremely savage in his remarks about France. At times the style is forcible, and even rich, but, as a rule, it is still strained and artificial. The oration begins eagerly with an appeal for the Constitution and the Republic, the ideas always uppermost in Mr. Webster's mind. As a whole, it shows a distinct improvement in form, but there are no marks of genius to raise it above the ordinary level of Fourth of July speeches. His next production was a little pamphlet, published in 1808, on the embargo, which was then paralyzing New England, and crushing out her prosperity. This essay is important because it is the first clear instance of that wonderful faculty which Mr. Webster had of seizing on the vital point of a subject, and bringing it out in such a way that everybody could see and understand it. In this case the point was the distinction between a temporary embargo and one of unlimited duration. Mr. Webster contended that the latter was unconstitutional. The great mischief of the embargo was in Jefferson's concealed intention that it should be unlimited in point of time, a piece of recklessness and deceit never fully appreciated until it had all passed into history. This Mr. Webster detected and brought out as the most illegal and dangerous feature of the measure, while he also discussed the general policy in its fullest extent. In 1809 he spoke before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, upon "The State of our Literature," an address without especial interest except as showing a very marked improvement in style, due, no doubt, to the influence of Mr. Mason.