The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1859-09-21
Rirtmunn Qispatrb.
MORNING. SEPT. 81, 1859
Edward Everett's Grafton at the lnaugura.
ton Of the Webster Statue.
ELOQUENT EXTRACTS,

| Powers, was inaugurated in Boston on Satur-
/ day. which was the 229th anniversary of the
naming of Boston. Extensive preparations
had been made for a magnificent spectacle
A procession of military bodies, civic socie-
! ties, the corporation, and other State and city
/ officials, was to have paraded the city, and an
/ immense display was expected, bat the con-
! tinuous storm compelled the managers TO
abandon this part of the programme, and the
ceremonies were accordingly performed in the
| Music Hall. These consisted of the presenta-
| tion of the statue by Professor FELTON,, re-
! ceptive address by Mayor Lincoln, speech by
| Governor Banks and the oration for the occa-
| sion by Hon. Edward Everett. We give some
extracts from the last named:
HIS ENTRANCE IN LIFE.
On the 18th of July, 1904, young man from
New Hampshire arrived in Boston, all but
penniless and all hut friendiess. He was twen-
| tytwo years Of age, and had come to take the
first steps in the career OF life the capital of
New England. Three days after arriving in
Boston he presented himself without letters
of recommendation, 10 Mr.. Christopher Gore,
then just returned from England after an Off
cial residence OF some years, and solicited q
place in his Office as clerk. His only intro
duction was by young man as little known
10 Mr.. Gore as himself, and who wentto pro-
nounce his name. which he did SO indistinctIy
rs not 10 be heard. His slender figure, strik-
ing c0untenance large dark eye, massive brow,
his general appearance indicating u delicate
organization, his manly carriage and modest
demeanor, arrest ted attention and inspired con-
fidence. His humble suit was granted; he was
received into the office, and had been there a
week before MT. Gore learned that his name
was Daniel Webster. His older bro ther-oder
in years. but later in entering life-(for whose
education Daniel while teacher of the academy
at Fryeburg, had drudged till midnight in
the office OF the Register of Deeds,) at
that time taught a small school in Short
: Boston.
and while he was in attendance at the
commencement at yarmouth, in 1904, to
receive his degree. Daniel supplied his place.
At that school, ut the age OF ten, was then
a pupil, and there commenced a friendship
which las ted, without Interruption or chill.
while his life lasted; of which, while mine
lasts the grateful recollection will never per-
ish From that time forward L knew, I hon
ored, l loved him. l saw him at all seasons
and on all occasions, in the flush OF public
triumphs--in the intimacy Of the flreside-in
the most unreserved interchange of personal
confidence; in health and in sickness, in sor-
row and in joy; when early honors began TO
wreath his brow, and III after lie through
most of the important scenes of his public
career. / saw him on occasions that show the
manly strength, and what is better, the manly
weakness OF the human heart; and declare
this daV. in the presence OF heaven and of
men. that never heard from him the express
sion of q wish unbecoming good citizen and
a patTiot-the Inference of a word unworthy
a gentleman and Christian; that l never
knew a more generous spirit, a safer adviser,
q warmer friend.
Do Won ask me if he had faults answer
he was q man. He had some of the faults of
n lofty spirit, genial temperament, and
warm and generous nature; he had none of the
faults of a grOyeiiIng. mean and malignant
nature. lie had especially the ''last infirmity
Of noble mind,' and had no doubt raised an
aspiring eye TO the highest object Of political
ambition. But he did it in the honest pride
of a capacity equal to the station, and with
consciousness that he should reflect back the
honor which it conferred. He might say, with
Burke ''that he had no arts but honest arts;''
and if he sought the highest honor OF the State,
he did it by transcendent talent, laborious
service and patriotic devotion 10 the public
good.
HIS GREATEST PARLIAMENTARY EFFORT.
The greatest parliamentary effort made by
Mr. Webster was his second speech on Foote'S
resolution, the question At issue being nothing
less than this lis the Constitution of the
United States compact without Il common
umpire between cUntederated SoVereig gnties, or
is il government of the people OF the United
States, sovereign within the sphere of its dele
gated powers, but reserying Il great mass of
undelegated rights to the separate State gov
crnments and the people! With those who
embrace the opinions which Mr.. Webster COM
hatted in this speech, this is not the time nor
the place TO engage IN an argument; but those
who believe that he maintained the true prin-
ciples of the Constitution. will probably agree
thar since that instrument was communicated
TO the COntinen tai Congress, seventy two wears
ago this day, by George Washington, as Presi-
dent of the Federal Convention. no greater
service has been rendered to them than in the
delivery of this speech. Well do l recollect
the occasion and the scene 1t was truly what
Wellington called the battle of Waterloo a
conflict Of giants. l passed an hour and half
with III Webster at his req best the evening
before this great effort; and he went over to me
froma very concise brief, the main topics of the
speech which he had prepared for the next day.
SO calm and unimpassiOned was the memoran-
{ I
l was tempted to Enthusiastically enough
that he was not sufficiently aware of the mag
nltude OF the occasion. But l soon perceived
mat ms calnneSS was the repOSe of conscious
power. He was not only at ease, bat sportive
and fun of auecdote: and as he told the Senate
playfully the next day, he slept soundiy that
night on the formidable assault of his gallant
and accomplished adversary. SO the great
Conde slept on the eve of the battle of Rocroi:
SO Alexander slept on the eve of the battle of
Arbela; and so they aWoke to deeds of immor-
tai fame. As | saw him in the evening Gf /
may borrow an illustration from his fayorite
amusenenD he was as unconcerned and as
free OF spirit, as some here have often seen
him, while floating in his fishing boat along
| hazy shore, gently rocking on the tranuuiI
tlde dropping his line here and there with the
varying fortune OF the sport. The next morn
ing he was like some mighty admiral dark
and terrible, casting the long shadow of his
frownlng tiers far over the sea that seemed to
sink beneath him; his broad pendant stream
ing af the main, the stars and stripes at the
lore, the I1lHIeH anu tHf peak and bearing
down like tempest upon his antagonist with
all his canvas strained to the wind and all
his thunders roaring from his broadsides
OTHER WORKS.
Who that heard it. or has read it, will ever
forget the desolating energy of his denuncia-
ton Of the African slave trade, in the dis
course at Plymouth; or the spendor of the
apostrophe to Warren, in the first discourse
on Bunker Hill; or that TO the monumental
shaft and the survivors of the Revolution in
the second; or the trumpet tones of the
speech placed in the lips ef John Adams in
the eulogy on Adams and Jefferson: or the
sublime peroration of the speech on Foote'S
resolution; or the lyric fire of the imagery by
which he illustrates the extent of the British
empire; or the almost supernatural terror of
his description of the force of conscience in
the argument in knapp's trial. Then, how
bright ahd fresh the description of Niagara;
how beautiful the picture of the Morning in
his private correspondence, which, as well as
his familiar conversation, We're enliyened by
the perpetual play of joyous and fertile i'm
animation. In 4 word. Nnhat tone in All Tho