The republic. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1849-1853, 1852-11-08


publication in the Republic of his letter to which
they have referred somewhat remarkable u
The language used by them in relation to it, as
we'll the note of Mr.. Rhett, nights herwise cre-
ate misrepresentation to it's tenor, as unjust to
the living as to the dead, to whose memory no one
has paid more earnest and Gas he behcves) more
truthful tributes than the writer.
Mr.. Rhett's note will be answered through the
Mercury. Truth is all either Of can seek, dis
connected in every way we have ever been from
the Great Expounder of Massachusetts,.
WAsHIsoroN, November 6, 1852.
Correspondence Of the Mercury. &c.,,
.,. WASHINGTON, October %, 1852.
The death bed scenes of DANIEL WERsrER, and
the last struggling utterances of that mighty il
erring and hayward spirit, still attract much oil
men who competing for the prize which Tipped
from his grasp. Such interest must centre
around the last thoughts and sayings of such a
man, especially when passing down to the dark
II ia a strange and almost unprecedented thing
that the three greatest Brain workers of one day
who had for half century each tasked to the
straining point body and brain, and lived in the in
cessant fret and fever Of public life, should have
retained all their senses and faculties unclouded
up to the moment Of dissolution. The spirit in
each seemed rather to abandon a worm out tene-
ment than to have gone out of one fit for further
down, and caused that divorce Of body and soul
which we miscall death. the vista opening to a
higher and an eternal life, where the war Of mat.
ter and spirit ceases.
Many as are the commentaries made on the dy.
ing utterance1 of Daniel Webster, and his thoughts
gathered from the broken words that fell from
his lips, go soon to be sealed forever, they yet do
not convey the same impressions which thoee frag-
mentary utterances have produced on the writer Of
this To his mind, the last struggling words Of
the old statesman showed a desire to wrestle with
death-a reluctance TO abandon life, and dim
dread of the dark unknown 30 soon to be opened
to him. Though exhibiting no craven fear, no un-
worthy weakness, and nerving himself to face the
inevitable, Daniel Webster evidently dreaded
death, and looked to the future more with fear
than with hope. 1t would be needless to repeat
these last sayings and words OF his, familiar to
every mind that takes an interest in topics beyond
the trivalites of the hour The citation of two or
three of these ks will suffice to show the Jus.
tice OF this comment, and the reasons which have
wrought that conclusion on one mind at least.
As his hold upon the things of this World loosen.
ed, his thoughts evidently drifted onward to the
shores of that silent sea, wherever bis journey
lay, and the reigiosity of his nature assened ii.
self the time that he felt himself destitute
of that sustaining faith for which he cried aloud
in his troubled spirit When the physician told
him the remedy used would give him relief,
Itis not that, Doctor, that want-I want restora-
toni" said the dying man.
Memorable words these-used by one who of all
men understood the use of words. And this is but
one Of many similar utterances, even when he
felt that all hope had fed Similar was the feeling
that prompted the request that his friends should
abe with him to the last-should not leave him;
"that no one should leave Marshield until all was
over !" He desired the numerous friends present
to be near; he shrunk from that solitude on which
he was 30 soon to enter, and chung to human com
panionship in those last hours which serener and
hopeful spirits devote to silent and solitary
communion with the Creator. who is summoning
them to his presence. This desire of sustaining
sympathy he manifested to the last. Most signif.
cant too was his request to his to read him
Gray's Elcgy. That sad summing up Of the
nothingness of human effort, the variety Of
human pride, suited we'll with the ripening
and bitter spirit which the Great Publicist bore
with him to his home from this scene of his
many triumphs and last sore discontinue, from
which he never rallied, ranking sore at his heart,
and shortening his span of life. Yet words Of hu-
man uttcrance would not suffice him, nor ease the
pain of that .saddened heart and troubled
spirit; and he turned for consolation to that higher
point in the revealed word Of God; and (if human
Judgment may presume to scan mysteries such as
this) not to find it-"stumbling down"--as Car
lyle Gays of Mrabeau-slike mighty heather and
Titan to his rest." 80. .'...... ~. T..
For his kind physician, who seems to have felt
and appreciated the spiritual as we'll as physical
wants of his patient, solemnIy repeated to the
dying man the soothing promises of the Great
Physician of Souls, set forth in these words
" ..Ty rock . and md Thy staff, they comfort me-"
thy rock-thy staff" He was no hypocrite, and
would not pretend, with all his remorscfpl striy-
ings, that "that peace that passeh all Understand
ing" had possession of his soul, though he poured
forth his soul in prayer. Bot even after this he
wrestled with death as strong man with bodily
foe; for his death wrestle thus described in let.
ter written from Marshfield just after the event:
From half past seven to ten O'Clock the great
man failed rapidly. Arousing from a lethargy at
ten O'Clock, his countenance became animated,
and his eye flashed with its usual brilliancy. He
exclaimed, al still livew' and Immediately sunk
into a state Of tranquil Inconsistencies. His
breathing now became fainter, and his strength
seemed entirely PROSTATE. He fingered in this
O'Clock, when the spirtrcturned to il. ti ca. ,.
9! still Ev5s saa So saying died. Tha. was his
another sense from that in which he spoke. OF
him, as of his great rivals, may we'll be chanted
the thrilling requiem Of that solemn strain:
Their bodies slumber in the dust,
But their name liyeth forever more"
Nj. Webster, as before remarked, had great
deal Of religiosity in his nature, but he was not
what lie commonly termed religious man. and the
distinction is a broad and an important one. No
man possessing his high intelligence and great
which elevates while it humliates, which turns
the aspirations upwards because Of the very eeva-.
ton of the character above the things which make
up the staple of the existence and the thoughts of
great man ever wss devoid Of this uplooking i'm
pulsc-this reverential belief in things higher and
holder than the best and highest things in the
life of this lower world. And Daniel Webster,
throughout long life, which certainly neither in
practice nor in form was modelled after religious
precepts, felt this, and manifested in modes and
u!terances, simple yet sublime, as was The stamp
of his Ratpre, "
Yet, in the common meaning Of the term, he
not a religious man-nor did II influence his life
common conversation. With him it was rather
sentiment than a convictiop-something poetical
or ideal, rather than practical and vital. He
member of no religious denomination-hc made no
pretensions to piety during life-nor would his
practice have squared with such pretensions, Far
from being pious, he could not without falsehood
have been termed even good man. OF his death
bed ponitence it may net be decorous to- speak.
But this Ia certain, that even in Ecclesinstos no
more impressive preacher can be found than in
these dcath.bcd utterances of Daniel Webster,
when listened to and dwet upon in reflective and
earnest spirit BETTING the occasion. and the soem-
nifty and importance of the theme which every
man born of woman must feel, comes home to hip
own consciousness and hia own heart.
Mr., Webster wasa great admirer and constant
reader Of the Bible, of which he wont to speak
in language of unusual fervor and eloquencc; but
he was accustomed to dwell upon its beauties and
its grand bursts of poetry, in Job and Isaiah,
as he would on those Of Milton. A. !sast such wa.
the judgment Of a most gifted and truly religious
daughter of your own State, who bad enjoyed rare
opportunities Of studying his complex cha1acter