After this grateful overflow of feelings to faithful friends and country, came some notice of foes, whom he might forgive, but not forget.
"Yet, sir, during this long period, I have not escaped the fate of other public men, in this and other countries. I have been often, Mr. President, the object of bitter and unmeasured detraction and calumny. I have borne it, I will not say always with composure, but I have borne it without creating any disturbance. I have borne it, waiting in unshaken and undoubting confidence, that the triumphs of truth and justice would ultimately prevail; and that time would settle all things as they ought to be settled. I have borne them under the conviction, of which no injustice, no wrong, no injury could deprive me, that I did not deserve them, and that He to whom we are all to be finally and ultimately responsible, would acquit me, whatever injustice I might experience at the hands of my fellow-men."
This was a general reference to the attacks and misrepresentations with which, in common with all eminent public men of decided character, he had been assailed; but there was a recent and offensive imputation upon him which galled him exceedingly—as much so for the source from which it came as for the offence itself: it was the imputation of the dictatorship, lavished upon him during the extra session; and having its origin with Mr. Tyler and his friends. This stung him, coming from that source—Mr. Tyler having attained his highest honors through his friendship: elected senator by his friends over Mr. Randolph, and taken up for Vice-President in the whig convention (whereby he became both the second and the first magistrate of the republic) on account of the excessive affection which he displayed for Mr. Clay. To this recent, and most offensive imputation, he replied specially:
"Mr. President, a recent epithet (I do not know whether for the purpose of honor or of degradation) has been applied to me; and I have been held up to the country as a dictator! Dictator! The idea of dictatorship is drawn from Roman institutions; and there, when it was created, the person who was invested with this tremendous authority, concentrated in his own person the whole power of the state. He exercised unlimited control over the property and lives of the citizens of the commonwealth. He had the power of raising armies, and of raising revenue by taxing the people. If I have been a dictator, what have been the powers with which I have been clothed? Have I possessed an army, a navy, revenue? Have I had the distribution of the patronage of the government? Have I, in short, possessed any power whatever? Sir, if I have been a dictator, I think those who apply the epithet to me must at least admit two things: in the first place, that my dictatorship has been distinguished by no cruel executions, stained by no deeds of blood, soiled by no act of dishonor. And they must no less acknowledge, in the second place (though I do not know when its commencement bears date, but I suppose, however, that it is intended to be averred, from the commencement of the extra session), that if I have been invested with, or have usurped the dictatorship, I have at least voluntarily surrendered the power within a shorter period than was assigned by the Roman laws for its continuance."
Mr. Clay led a great party, and for a long time, whether he dictated to it or not, and kept it well bound together, without the usual means of forming and leading parties. It was a marvel that, without power and patronage (for the greater part of his career was passed in opposition as a mere member of Congress), he was able so long and so undividedly to keep so great a party together, and lead it so unresistingly. The marvel was solved on a close inspection of his character. He had great talents, but not equal to some whom he led. He had eloquence—superior in popular effect, but not equal in high oratory to that of some others. But his temperament was fervid, his will strong, and his courage daring; and these qualities, added to his talents, gave him the lead and supremacy in his party—where he was always dominant, but twice set aside by the politicians. It was a galling thing to the President Tyler, with all the power and patronage of office, to see himself without a party, and a mere opposition member at the head of a great one—the solid body of the whigs standing firm around Mr. Clay, while only some flankers and followers came to him; and they importunate for reward until they got it. Dictatorship was a natural expression of resentment under such circumstances; and accordingly it was applied—and lavishly—and in all places: in the Senate, in the House, in the public press, in conversation, and in the manifesto which Mr. Cushing put out to detach the whigs from him. But they all forgot to tell that this imputed dictatorship at the extra session, took place after the defection of Mr. Tyler from the whig party, and as a consequence of that defection—some leader being necessary to keep the party together after losing the two chiefs they had elected—one lost by Providence, the other by treachery. This account settled, he turned to a more genial topic—that of friendship; and to make atonement, reconciliation and peace with all the senators, and they were not a few, with whom he had had some rough encounters in the fierce debate. Unaffectedly acknowledging some imperfection of temper, he implored forgiveness from all whom he had ever offended, and extended the hand of friendship to every brother member.
"Mr. President, that my nature is warm, my temper ardent, my disposition in the public service enthusiastic, I am ready to own. But those who suppose they may have seen any proof of dictation in my conduct, have only mistaken that ardor for what I at least supposed to be patriotic exertions for fulfilling the wishes and expectations by which I hold this seat; they have only mistaken the one for the other. Mr. President, during my long and arduous services in the public councils, and especially during the last eleven years, in the Senate, the same ardor of temperament has characterized my actions, and has no doubt led me, in the heat of debate, in endeavoring to maintain my opinions in reference to the best course to be pursued in the conduct of public affairs, to use language offensive, and susceptible of ungracious interpretation, towards my brother senators. If there be any who entertain a feeling of dissatisfaction resulting from any circumstance of this kind, I beg to assure them that I now make the amplest apology. And, on the other hand, I assure the Senate, one and all, without exception and without reserve, that I leave the Senate chamber without carrying with me to my retirement a single feeling of dissatisfaction towards the Senate itself or any one of its members. I go from it under the hope that we shall mutually consign to perpetual oblivion whatever of personal animosities or jealousies may have arisen between us during the repeated collisions of mind with mind."
This moving appeal was strongly responded to in spontaneous advances at the proper time—deferred for a moment by a glowing and merited tribute to his successor (Mr. Crittenden), and his own solemn farewell to the Senate.
"And now, allow me to submit the motion which is the object that induced me to arise upon this occasion. It is to present the credentials of my friend and successor, who is present to take my place. If, Mr. President, any void could be created by my withdrawal from the Senate of the United States, it will be filled to overflowing by my worthy successor, whose urbanity, gallant bearing, steady adherence to principle, rare and uncommon powers of debate, are well known already in advance to the whole Senate. I move that the credentials be received, and at the proper moment that the oath required be administered. And now, in retiring as I am about to do from the Senate, I beg leave to deposit with it my fervent wishes, that all the great and patriotic objects for which it was instituted, may be accomplished—that the destiny designed for it by the framers of the constitution may be fulfilled—that the deliberations, now and hereafter, in which it may engage for the good of our common country, may eventuate in the restoration of its prosperity, and in the preservation and maintenance of her honor abroad, and her best interests at home. I retire from you, Mr. President, I know, at a period of infinite distress and embarrassment. I wish I could have taken leave of the public councils under more favorable auspices: but without meaning to say at this time, upon whom reproaches should fall on account of that unfortunate condition, I think I may appeal to the Senate and to the country for the truth of what I say, when I declare that at least no blame on account of these embarrassments and distresses can justly rest at my door. May the blessings of Heaven rest upon the heads of the whole Senate, and every member of it; and may every member of it advance still more in fame, and when they shall retire to the bosoms of their respective constituencies, may they all meet there that most joyous and grateful of all human rewards, the exclamation of their countrymen, 'well done, thou good and faithful servant.' Mr. President, and Messieurs Senators, I bid you, one and all, a long, a last, a friendly farewell."
Mr. Preston concluded the ceremony by a motion to adjourn. He said he had well observed from the deep sensation which had been sympathetically manifested, that there could be but little inclination to go on with business in the Senate, and that he could not help participating in the feeling which he was sure universally prevailed, that something was due to the occasion. The resignation which had just taken place was an epoch in the annals of the country. It would undoubtedly be so considered in history. And he did not know that he could better consult the feelings of the Senate than by moving an adjournment: which motion was made and agreed to. Senators, and especially those who had had their hot words with the retiring statesman, now released from official restraint, went up, and made return of all the kind expressions which had been addressed to them. But the valedictory, though well performed, did not escape the criticism of senators, as being out of keeping with the usages of the body. It was the first occasion of the kind; and, thus far, has been the last; and it might not be recommendable for any one, except another Henry Clay—if another should ever appear—to attempt its imitation.