personal presence, he was superior to Demosthenes himself.

Webster is not without his defects, however. His mind was greater than his soul; his ability as a constitutional lawyer was greater than his ability as a constructive statesman. He has not the gigantic moral force that we find in either Burke or Chatham. His style is not as simple as that of Demosthenes - not by a long way; and he wasted too much magnificent style on minor matters. Even in the great speech in reply to Hayne, while the constitutional argument is almost flawless, there is, especially in the early part, a peculiarly American lack of depth, and of the broad, sympathetic comprehension of life in its totality.

While we have compared Webster especially with Demosthenes, his style is more nearly modelled on that of Cicero. In musical quality he is probably surpassed by Cicero alone. He uses his rhetorical devices as easily and effectively as Cicero did; and he is by no means so diffuse. In short, he has the art of Cicero, with more manly strength, more simplicity, and more patriotic statesmanship.

He made his reputation as a lawyer in the so-called Dartmouth College case; but it was X his speech at the laying of the corner stone at Bunker Hill that established his national reputation as an orator. This was greatly strengthened by his speech at Plymouth. His Reply to Hayne

is by every one acknowledged to be his masterpiece.

Hayne was the first to state clearly and distinctly and openly the South Carolina doctrine of nullification- the right of a State to set aside any act of the United States which it considered unconstitutional. Hayne's speech was inspired by Calhoun, and Webster had been preparing himself to meet the dangerous doctrine. He had heard it in private, he had been thinking about it for some time, and he realized that a great occasion had arrived. All the oratory in the Senate up to this time had been Southern. The South hardly believed that the North could produce an orator. Hayne therefore attacked New England, and Massachusetts especially, and in short did everything he could to bait the lion. His speech was so fine that the friends of Webster feared he would not prove equal to it. Spectators had flocked to Washington from all parts of the country to hear this great debate, which had already lasted for many days. When the final day arrived, the galleries of the Senate Chamber were packed, and every available spot on the floor of the Senate itself was taken by members of the House of Representatives and others. All hung breathlessly upon the moment, wondering if the lion of the North, "Black Dan Webster," would be equal to the occasion. He had not finished his splendid exordium in the first few minutes of his speech before the mists began to rise, and every

one within hearing of his voice knew that he was about to make a splendid triumph. Even the close legal argument which constituted the last half of his oration was listened to by all, including women and children, with breathless interest. The burst of patriotism with which the great speech closed equalled, if it did not surpass, the famous address of Patrick Henry, "Give me liberty or give me death!"

Webster's speech was not only a power when it was delivered, but it has continued to be a power as it has been read by millions in the years since then, and has been declaimed by thousands of schoolboys. With the solitary exception of Edmund Burke, no other English orator has left a complete speech that will at all compare with this. The fame of Fox and that of Chatham rest on tradition and report, supplemented by a few fragments; but Webster we may test any day by simply turning to numerous volumes in which his words are accurately and fully printed. In this respect, though he was an extemporary speaker, he has the advantages of the ancients who wrote out their speeches in advance.

L

PLYMOUTH ORATION

(THE OPENING AND THE CLOSE)

ET us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be thankful that we have lived to see the bright and happy breaking of the auspicious morn

which commences the third century of the history of New England. Auspicious, indeed, bringing a happiness beyond the common allotment of Providence to men, - full of present joy, and gilding with bright beams the prospect of futurity, is the dawn that awakens us to the commemoration of the landing of the Pilgrims.

Living at an epoch which naturally marks the progress of the history of our native land, we have come hither to celebrate the great event with which that history commenced. For ever honoured be this, the place of our fathers' refuge! For ever remembered the day which saw them, weary and distressed, broken in everything but spirit, poor in all but faith and courage, at last secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and impressing this shore with the first footsteps of civilized man!

It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables us to connect our thoughts, our sympathies, and our happiness with what is distant in place or time; and, looking before and after, to hold communion at once with our ancestors and our posterity. Human and mortal although we are, we are nevertheless not mere insulated beings, without relation to the past or the future. Neither the point of time, nor the spot of earth, in which we physically live, bounds our rational and intellectual enjoyments. We live in the past by a knowledge of its history; and in the future, by hope and anticipation. By ascending to an association with our ancestors; by contemplating their example and studying their character; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibing their spirit; by accompanying them in their toils, by sympathizing in their sufferings, and rejoicing in

we seem to

their successes and their triumphs, belong to their age, and to mingle our own existence with theirs. We become their contemporaries, live the lives which they lived, endure what they endured, and partake in the rewards which they enjoyed. And in like manner, by running along the line of future time, by contemplating the probable fortunes of those who are coming after us, by attempting something which may promote their happiness, and leave some not dishonourable memorial of ourselves for their regard when we shall sleep with the fathers, we protract our own earthly being, and seem to crowd whatever is future, as well as all that is past, into the narrow compass of our earthly existence. As it is not a vain and false, but an exalted and religious imagination, which leads us to raise our thoughts from the orb which, amidst this universe of worlds, the Creator has given us to inhabit, and to send them with something of the feeling which nature prompts, and teaches to be proper among children of the same Eternal Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of fellow-beings with which his goodness has peopled the infinite of space; so neither is it false or vain to consider ourselves as interested and connected with our whole race, through all time; allied to our ancestors; allied to our posterity; closely compacted on all sides with others; ourselves being but links in the great chain of being which begins with the origin of our race, runs onward through its successive generations, binding together the past, the present, and the future, and terminating at last, with the consummation of all things earthly, at the throne of God.