Litchfield enquirer., 1852-11-04
Daniel Webster.
From ths Commercial Aduertiser

ItOuS Lne COUEUteTCtut <1U UGTEtOCSs We have been favored with the peru sal of letter, written by Mr. Webste . 10 an intimate friend in this city, date' . Franklin, May 3, ls46, from which W mako the extract below, and which W . are sure will be read at this time with un usal interest.
 Il have made satisfactory arrangement
 respecting my house here. the best
 which is that can leave 1t where it is
 and yet be comfortable notwithstanding
 the railroad. | a5'
 l "Tbis house faces due North. Its frcn
 windows look toward the river Merrimac
 But then the river soon turns to tie Soul
 so that the Eastern windows look toward
 the river also. But.he river has so deep
 ened it's cham lin this stretch of it, with in the last fifty years. that we cannot sct
 its waters, without approaching it, or go
 ing back to the highlands behind us. The
 history of this change is of considerable
 Importance in the philosophy of streams l have observed.it practically, and know
 something of the theory of the phenom,
 enon but l, doubt whether the world ! will ever be benefited, either by my learning Or my observation in this respect l Looking out at .he east windows, a, this moment, e P. M..) with beautiful sun just bres king out, my eye sweeps q rich and level field of 100 acres. At the end of it, third of mile off, I see plain marble grave stones, designating the pla. .ces where repose nay father, my brother Joseph. and my sisters Mehiable. Abi. gail and Sarah good Scripture names. inherited from their Puritan ancestors.
 My father! Ebenezer Webster born at Kingston. in the lower part of the State, in l739-the handsomest man I ever saw. except my bro!Ler Ezekiel, who appeared to me, and so does he now seem to me, the very finest human form that ever l laid eyes on. 1 saw him in his coffin-a white forehead-a tinged cheek "a complexion as clear as heavenly light! But where am 1 staying? .'e
 1.-The grave has closed upon him, as it has on all my brothers and sisters. We shall soon be all together. But this is melancholy-and 1 leave it. Dear dear kindred blood, how I love you all !.
 8 "This fair field is before mel could see a lamb on any part of it. l have ploughcd it. and raked it, and hoed it, but l never moved it. Some how, Icould never learn to hanga scyths! Ihad not wit enough. My brother Joe used to say that my father sent me to college in or der to make me equal to the rest of the
 "Of hot day in July-it must have been one of the last years of Washing. tons admiuistla,ioa-I. was making hay with my father, just where I now see remaining elm tree. about the middle of the afternoon. The Hon. Abel Foster. NJ. O., who lived in Canterbury, six miles off. called at the house, and came ia.o the field to see my father. He was wor, thy man. college learned, and had been a minister. but was not person of any considerable natural power. My father was his friendand supporter. He talked awhile in the field, and went on his way. When he was gone. my father called me to him. and we sat down beneath the elm on hay cock. He said. My son, that is worthy man he is member of Con- gross; he goes to Philadelphia. and gets six dollars a day. while loil here. N is because he had an education; which I never had. If l had had his early ed- ucation, I should have been in Philadel. ipEia in his place. l,came near it, as it was but missed it. and now. I must work here.' 'Aly dear father,' said I. you shall not work ;: brother and l. will work 10, you. and wear our hands out. and you shall rest'-and Iremember to have cried. and I cry now at tie recol. lection. My child,' said he, it is of no i'm mportance to me now liye but for my chld,en; | could not give your elder brother the advantages of knowledge. .bu, can do something for you. Exert your. self improve your opportuni,ies--lea -learn --learn-and when l. am gone, you will not need to gc through the hardships which I have under ge ne. and. which have made me an old man before my time.' ! .sThe next May he took me to Exeter
 to the Philips Exeter Academy-placed me under the tuition Of it's excellent pre- kcep,or. Dr., Bentmin Abbott. still living. ! ..My father died in April. 1906. I
 neither left him, no forsook him. My
 opening an office at Boscawen was tha, might be near him. ] closed his eyes ir
 this very house. He died at 60 years o age-afler life of exe,tion, toil sud ex
 posure--a private soldier, an ofiicer.a leg
 isla,or. n judgc--everything that mal
 could bc, to whom learning never had dis closed her ample page. ] My first speech at tue bar. was mad, when he was on the bench--he neve
 heard me second time.
 gl "He had in hin, what I recollect tt . have been the character of some of tn, ! old Putitans, He was deeply religious