The republic. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1849-1853, 1852-10-30
From the Neto York Commercial Aduertiser.

We have been favored with the perusal Of a let
ter written by Mr.. Wcbster to an intimate friend
in this city, dated Franklin, May 3, 1916, from.
which we make the extract below, and which we
are sure will be read Al this time with unusual in
terest:
.sI have made satisfactory arrangements rc-
spectng my house here, the beet OF which V that
] can leave It where it ia, and yet be comfortable.
notwithstanding the railroad.
q This house faces due north. Its front windows
look toward the river Nerrmack. But then the
river turns to the SOUTH SO that the eastern
windows look toward the river also. But the river
has 30 deepened its channel in this stretch OF it, in
the last fifty years, that cannot see it's waters
without approaching it or going back to the high
er lands behind US. The history Of this change is
Of considerable importance in the philosophy of
streams. have observed it practically, and know
| something of the theory OF the phenomenon; but
/ doubt whether the world will ever be benefited
| either by my learning or my observation In this
respect.
Looking out at the east windows, at this mo-
nient, q p ND with beautiful sun just break
ing out my eye sweeps rich and ley ,h nso a. o.
mile off, see plain marble grave-stones, desgnat-
ing the places where repose my father, my mo-
ther my brother Joseph, and my sisters Mehitable,
Abigail and Sarah; good Scripture names, Inherit
| ed from their Puritan ancestors.
| "My father Ebenezer Webster!-born at Kings
ton, in the lower part OF the State, in l739-the
| handsonest man / ever saw, except my brother
Ezekiel, who appeared to me, and SO does he now
seem to me, the very finest human form that ever
| l laid eyes on. saw him in his coftin-a white
forehead--a tinged cheek--a complexion as clear
| as heavenly light! But where am straypg!
'The grave has closed upon him, as il has on all
my brothers and sisters. We shall soon be all
| together. But this is melancholy and leave it.
| Dear, dear kindred blood, how love you all.
ssThis fair field is before mel could see lamb
on any part of it. ! have ploughed it, and raked
| it, and heed it, but never moved it. Somehow,
| could never learn to hang scythe! had not
wit enough. My brother Joe used to say that my
father sent me college in order to make me equal
| to the rest of the children!
"Of hot day in July-it must have been one Of
| was making hay with my father just where now
| see remaining elm tree, about the middle OF the
afternoon. The Hon. Abiel Foster, M. G., who
| lived in Canterbury, six miles of, called at the
| house, and came into the field to see my father.
He worthy man, college learned. and had
| been minister, bat was not person Of any con-
siderable natural powers. My father was his friend
| and supporter. He talked awhile in the field, and
called me to him, and We sat down beneath the
| elm tree, on hay-cock. He said, My son, that
| is worthy man--he is a member OF Congress-he
goes to Philadelphia. and gets six dollars day,
| while toll here. 1t is because he had educa-
ton which never had. II had had his early
| education, should have been in Philadelphia in
his place. came near it, aa il was. but missed
it, and now must work bere' My dear father
| said l, you shall not work. Brother and will
| work for you, and wear our hands out, and you
shall rest;' and remember to have cried; and
|
| 1T is of no importance to mel now live but for
my children; could not give your elder brother
the advantages of knowledge, but can do come.
thing for you. Exert yourself-improve your OPP
| ties-icarn-earn--and when am gone
you will not need to go through the hardshlps
/ which have undergone, and which have made me
| an old man before my time III. IN
"The next May he took me to Exe,eek ,ihe
| Philips Exeter Academy-placed me he
tuition of it's excellent preceptor, DR. ~
Abbott, stll living. - -
| "My father died in April, 1906. neither lei.
| hir., nor forsook him. My opening Office at
huscowan that might be near him. closed
his eyes in this very house. He died at sixty
years Of age-after life of exertion, toll, and
posure--a private soldier, officer, legislator
| judge-every thing that man could be, to whom
| learning never had disclosed her ample page
| .sMy first speech at the bar was made when he
| was on the bench-hc never heard me second
| time. .s@t .fasta" ta III I'D ,sas ag#
| "He had in him what recolIect to have been the
character of some OF the old Puritans. He was
deeply religious, but not sour; on the contrary,
| good-humored, MISUNDERSTANDING even in his age,
with contagious laugh, teeth oil az white as ala
| baster-genle, soft, playful, and yet having
heart in him that he seemed to have borrowed
| from a lion. He could frown; frown II was, but
cheerfulness, good-humor and smiles composed his
| most usual aspect. HeE
sever truly, your friend,
n'~s. tsa.e7E@ "DAN'L WEBSTER"