LXV.-MASSACHUSETTS AND SOUTH CAROLINA. FROM WEBSter. DANIEL WEBSTER was born in 1782. He graduated at the age of twenty, and established himself in the practice of the law in New Hampshire. He became a member of Congress at the age of thirty, in which he continued, with few intermissions, until his death, holding the foremost rank as an orator, statesman, and expounder of the Constitution. This is an extract from his answer to the preceding speech. He died in 1852. 1. THE eulogium pronounced on the character of the State of South Carolina, by the honorable gentleman, for her revolutionary and other merits, meets my hearty concurrence. I shall not acknowledge that the honorable member goes before me, in regard for whatever of distinguished talent or distinguished character, South Carolina has produced. I claim part of the honor; I partake in the pride of her great names. I claim them for countrymen', one' and all the Laurenses', the Rutledges', the Pinckneys', the Sumters', the Marions-Americans all-whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by state lines, than their talents and patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within the same narrow limits. 2. In their day and generation, they served and honored the country, and the whole country, and their renown is of the treasures' of the whole country. Him', whose honored name the gentleman himself` bears,—does he suppose me less capable of gratitude for his' patriotism, or sympathy for his' suffering, than if his eyes had first opened upon the light in Massachusetts, instead of South Carolina'! Sir, does he suppose it in his power to exhibit in Carolina a name so bright as to produce envy in my bosom'? No, sir,-increased gratification' and delight rather. Sir, I thank God', that, if I am gifted with little of the spirit which is said to be able to raise mortals' to the skies', I have yet none', as I trust, of that other' spirit, which would drag angels' down'. 3. When I shall be found, sir, in my place here in the senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, because it happened to spring up beyond the little limits of my own' state or neigborhood; when I refuse for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due to American talent, to elevated patriotism, to sincere devotion to liberty and the country'; or if I see an uncommon endowment of Heaven'; if I see extraordinary capacity or virtue in any son of the South'; and if, moved by local prejudice', or gangrened by state jealousy, I get up here to abate a tithe of a hair` from his just character and just famc', mãy my tongue cleave to the rōōf of my mouth. 4. Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts. She needs none. There she is'; behold her, and judge for yourselves. There is her history'; the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure`. There is Boston', and Concord', and Lexington', and Bunker-Hil'; and there they will remain forever'. And, sir, where American Liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured and sustained', there it still lives', in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound' it; if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it; if folly and madness, if uneasiness under salutary restraint', shall succeed to separate it from that Union', by which alone its existence is made sure', it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked'; it will stretch forth its arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who gathered around it; and it will fall at last, if fall it must', amid the proudest monuments of its glory and on the very spot of its origin. LXVI. THE LAST DAYS OF HERCULANEUM. HERCULANEUM and Pompeii were cities of Italy, which were destroyed by an eruption of Vesuvius, being entirely buried under ashes and lava. During the last century, they have been dug out to a considerable extent, and the streets, buildings, and utensils have been found in a state of perfect preservation. A Roman soldier, for some daring deed That trespassed on the laws, in dungeon low 2. Chained down. His was a noble spirit, rough, But generous, and brave, and kind. In face and gesture. From infancy, the child Every sport The father shared and heightened. But at length, 3. 4. 5. The captive's lot, He felt in all its bitterness: the walls Of his deep dungeon answered many a sigh And heart-heaved groan. His tale was known, and touched His father's lingering hours, and brought a balm Where he had been a cure. With earliest morn Of that first day of darkness and amaze, The iron door was closed-for them Never to open more! The day', the night Grew hot at length, and thick`; but in his straw (1) On his low couch The fettered soldier sank, and with deep awe, Listened the fearful sounds: with upturned eye. To the great gōds he breathed a prayer; then, strove His useless terrors. But he could not sleep: His body burned with feverish heat; his chains 6. 7. 8. Groaned unimaginable thunders'; sounds, Like the sad mōanings of Novēmber's wind, In the blank mīdnight. (l) Dēēpest hōrror chilled Came ō'er him; then anon, a fiery thrill Shot through his veins. Now, on his couch he shrunk, As though he heard the battle trumpet sound, He slept, at last, A troubled, dreamy sleep. Well had he slept Soon the storm Burst forth; the lightnings glanced'; the air Shook with the thunders. They awoke`; they sprung Amazed upon their feet. The dungeon glowed A moment as in sunshine-and was dark: Again, a flood of white flame fills the cell, Dying away upon the dazzled eye In darkening, quivering tints, as stunning sound With intensest awe, The soldier's frame was filled'; and many a thought Of strange foreboding hurried through his mind, Jarring and lifting; and the massive walls, Heard harshly grate and strain': yet knew he not, While evils undefined and yet to come Glanced through his thoughts, what deep and cureless wound Fate had already` given.— Where`, man of woe'! Where', wretched father'! is thy boy? Thou call'st His name in vain':-he can not answer thee. 9. Loudly the father called upon his child': No voice replied. Trembling and anxiously He searched their couch of straw; with headlong haste Seemed bursting from his ears, and from his eyes 10. Fire flashed, he strained with arm extended far, (hh) Mad frenzy fires him now. Raging to break his toils,-to and fro bounds'. 11. 12. (1) The father saw, And all his fury fled`:- That instant on him:-speechless'-fixed' he stood`; Silent and pale The father stands:-no tear is in his eye :- 13. It will be given. (h) Look! how the rolling ground, At every swell, nearer and still more near Moves toward the father's outstretched arm his boy. Once he has touched his garment:-how his eye Lightens with love, and hope, and anxious fears\! Ha', see! he has him now!-he clasps him round; Kisses his face; puts back the curling locks, |