He was a man of large ability, though necessarily overshadowed by the colossal genius of his younger brother. It would be too much to expect two Daniel Websters in one family. His death had a depressing effect upon Daniel, for the two had been one in sympathy, and each had rejoiced in the success of the other. Together they had struggled up from poverty, achieved an education and professional distinction, and though laboring in different spheres, for Ezekiel kept aloof from politics, they continued to exchange views upon all subjects that interested either. It is not surprising, in view of his desolate household, and the loss of his favorite brother, that Daniel should write: “I confess the world, at present, has an aspect for me anything but cheerful. With a multitude of acquaintances I have few friends; my nearest intimacies are broken, and a sad void is made in the objects of affection.” Yet he was constrained to acknowledge that his life, on the whole, had been “fortunate and happy beyond the common lot, and it would be now ungrateful, as well as unavailing, to repine at calamities, of which, as they are human, I must expect to partake.”
I have taken pains to speak of Mr. Webster’s home affections, because many, but only those who did not know him, have looked upon him as coldly intellectual, with a grand genius, but deficient in human emotions, when, as a fact, his heart was unusually warm and overflowing with tender sympathy.
[CHAPTER XXIX.]
CALLED TO THE SENATE.
I have called this biography “From Farm-boy to Senator,” because it is as a senator that Daniel Webster especially distinguished himself. At different times he filled the position of Secretary of State, but it was in the Senate Chamber, where he was associated with other great leaders, in especial Clay, Calhoun and Hayne, that he became a great central object of attention and admiration.
Mr. Webster was not elected to the Senate till he had reached the age of forty-five. For him it was a late preferment, and when it came he accepted it reluctantly. Mr. Clay was not yet thirty when he entered the Senate, and Mr. Calhoun was Vice-President before he attained the age of forty-five. But there was this advantage in Mr. Webster’s case, that when he joined the highest legislative body in the United States he joined it as a giant, fully armed and equipped not only by nature but by long experience in the lower House of Congress, where he was a leader.
The preferment came to him unsought. Mr. Mills, one of the senators from Massachusetts, who had filled his position acceptably, was drawing near the close of his term, and his failing health rendered his re-election impolitic. Naturally Mr. Webster was thought of as his successor, but he felt that he could hardly be spared from the lower House, where he was the leading supporter of the administration of John Quincy Adams. Levi Lincoln was at that time Governor of Massachusetts, and he too had been urged to become a candidate. Mr. Webster wrote him an urgent letter, in the hope of persuading him to favor this step. From that letter I quote: