Columbus Democrat. [volume] (Columbus, Miss.) 18??-18??, 1852-11-13
From the Commercial Advertiser
Daniel Webster.


We have been favored with the perusal of
letter written by Mr. Webster to an intimate frep,
in this city, dated Franklin, May Sd. 1916 fro,,
which we make the extract below, and which W,
are sure will be read at this time with unusua
interest:
have made satisfactory arrangements respect
ing my house here, the best of which is that ear
leave 1t where il is, and yet be comfortable not
withstanding the railroad.
This house faces due north. Its front window.
look toward the river Merrimack But then th,
river soon turns to the SOUTH so that the easter
windows look toward the river also But tn,
river has so deepened its channel in this stretch
of it in tire last fifty years. that we cannot see il
waters, without approaching it. or going back tC
the higher lands behind us. The history of thi.
change is Of considerable Importance in the phil
osophy Of streams. have observed it practical.
/ ly, 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 widows this moment
/ Il P. m.,) with beautiful sun Just breaking out
my eye sweeps a rich and level field Of one hun
dred acres. At the end of it, third of a mile
of, | see plain marble grave stones, designating
the places where repose my father, my mother, my
brother Joseph and my sisters Mehitable, Abigail,
and Sarah-good Scriptural names, inherited
from their Puritan ancestors.
My father! Ebenezer Webster born at Kings
ton, in the lower part Of the State, in l739-the
handsomest 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
laid eyes on. | saw him in his coflin--a white
forehead tinged cheek-a complexion as clear
as heavenly light! But where am straying!
The grave has closed upon him, as it has on all
my brothers and sisters. We shall all be soon to-
gether But this is melancholy-and leave it,
Dear, dear kindred blood, how love you all
This fair field is before mel could see lamb
on any part of it. have ploughed it. and raled
it, and hoed it, but never moved it. Some how
| could never learn TO hang scythe! had not
wit enough. My brother Joe used to say that
my father sent me to college in order to make
me equal to the rest of the children
On hot day in July--it must have been one
Of the last years Of Washington's administration
Il was making hay, with my father, just where
| now see a remaining elm tree, about the middle
of the afternoon. The Hon. Abiel Foster, NJ c.,
who lived in Canterbury, six miles off, called at
the house, and came into the field to see my father,
lie was worthy man, college-earned, and had
been minister, but was not person of any con-
siderable natural powers. My father was his
friend and 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 be-
meath the elm on a hay cock. He said, "AIy son,
that is a worthy mamie is a member of Con
gress-he goes to Philadelphia, and gets six dol
lars day, while toll here. 1t is because he had
an education, which | never had. If | had had
his early education | should have been in Phila-
delphia in his place. came near It as it was.--
But missed it, and now must work here" "My
dear father" said |, "you shall not work Broth
er and ! will work for you, and wear our hands |
out, and you shall rest :" and remember to have |
| cry now at the recollection. 'My |
child" said he, "it is of no importance TO me-I /
now live but for my children could not give
your elder brother the advantages of knowledge, /
put | can do something for you. Exert yourself
improve your es-learl-Ledrn-
md when | am gone you will not need 10 go
through the hardships which have undergone
md which have made me an old man before my
ime."
The next May he took me to Exeter-to the
Phillips Exeter Academy-placed me under the
uition Of its excellent precaptor, Dr. Benz Abbott,
till living.
My father died in April, 1906. l neither left
i'm nor forsook him. My opening an office at
}useawen was that might be near him. closed
lis eyes in this very house. He died at sixty
even years Of age, after life Of exertion, toll,
nd exposure private soldier, an officer leg
,ator, judge-eyerything that a man could be
0 whom learning never had disclosed her 'am-
lie page"
Ny first speech at the bar was made when he
1as on the bench He never heard me a second !
me.
He had in him what recolect to have been
he character Of some Of the old Puritans He !
'as deeply religious but not sour--on the con- :
AIRY, good humored facetious-showiug even in I
is age, with a contagious laugh, teeth, al as white
alabaster-gentle, soft, playful-and vet having
hear: in him that he seemed 10 have borrowed
ON a lion. lie could frown; a frown It was,
ut cheerfulness, good humor, and smiles com /,
osed his most usual aspect
Ever truly, your friend,
DAN'L WEBSTER.