Chapter XIII: Preface (11)

The subject of abolition was introduced into the senate, which Mr. Clay approached, and freely discussed, although urged to avoid it by his friends. He considered it, as it might be expected he would, in the true spirit of philanthropy, benevolence, and patriotism. His sentiments were conceived and uttered in such a noble, liberal, and magnanimous manner, as to elicit expressions of approbation and of commendation even from both anti and pro slavery men. Mr. Calhoun admitted the correctness of his sentiments, and the entire security which their adoption would promise to the union. As a matter in course, the enemies of Mr. Clay strove to cause the impression to be received, that, in his thus advocating the right of petition, he was actuated by motives of a personal nature, by a desire to render himself popular with abolitionists. His advocacy of this right _did_ render him popular, not only with that class of individuals, but with all who revere and love the immutable and eternal principles of truth and justice, and rejoice to see the outpourings of sympathy towards a worthy object.

During the summer of 1839, in his return from a northeastern tour, he visited the city of New York, where his reception was as gratifying to his feelings as it was spontaneous and brilliant on the part of those who gave it. The whole city joined in it, and it may well be questioned, whether any individual ever entered the city, attended by such enthusiastic tokens of popular favor. He approached it in the steamer James Madison, at the foot of Hammond street, Greenwich, early in the afternoon. As he stepped on the wharf, the air was rent by the welcoming acclamations of an immense multitude assembled there, which were taken up and continued by similar collections of people lining his whole route (a distance of three miles) to the Astor House, where lodgings had been prepared for him. He sat in an open barouche, preceded by a band of music, and followed by an immense concourse of citizens in carriages. The streets through which he passed were crowded with one dense mass of _people_, and the houses were covered with them. At all the principal places in his route, bands of music were stationed, that, as he approached, sent forth their spirit-stirring peals, which, with the vociferous shouts of thousands on thousands, and waving of handkerchiefs, flags, and banners, rendered his march like that of an oriental pageant. When he reached the Park, the shouting was almost deafening, which went up like the roar of the sea. The most interesting feature of this grand reception, was its _spontaneousness_. It was not ‘_got up_,’ but it was the unprovided for, the unsolicited, and voluntary _act of the people_, tendering to their best, their most devoted friend, their sincere and heart-felt greetings and gratulations. Mr. Clay had greatly endeared himself to all capable of appreciating lofty and disinterested action, who, as Mr. Van Buren’s presidential term drew to a close, began to be mentioned continually as the most suitable whig candidate for president. On the fourth of December, 1839, the democratic whig convention met at Harrisburgh to nominate one. Not a doubt was entertained that Mr. Clay was the man of their choice, when they assembled, and that his selection would have been the result of their assembling, had not the most dishonorable means been employed to defeat it.

On the fifth of December, the convention was organized, Hon. James Barbour being appointed president. The committee appointed to report a candidate, after a session of two days, during which the intriguers were busy in circulating their falsehoods, and reading letters pretended to have been received from distinguished individuals in different parts of the country, and which were filled with false assertions of Mr. Clay’s unpopularity, finally decided upon William Henry Harrison. Their decision was received by those of Mr. Clay’s friends who stood by him to the last, without a murmur, although with melancholy looks, and silent disappointment. Mr. Banks, one of the delegation from Kentucky, was the first to rise and express their cordial concurrence In the nomination made. Mr. Preston expressed himself similarly, and desired that a letter from Mr. Clay, which had been in the possession of a delegate several days, should be read to the convention, and which had not been previously shown, lest the motives for its exhibition should have been misconstrued. It was read by colonel Coombs, of Kentucky. In this, Mr. Clay says, ‘with a just and proper sense of the high honor of being called to the office of president of the United States, by a great, free, and enlightened people, and profoundly grateful to those of my fellow citizens who are desirous to see me placed in that exalted and responsible station, I must nevertheless say, in entire truth and sincerity, that, if the deliberations of the convention shall lead them to the choice of another, as the candidate of the opposition, far from feeling any discontent, the nomination will have my best wishes, and receive my cordial support.’ He then exhorted the delegation from Kentucky to think not of _him_, but of their bleeding, prostrate country, and to coöperate with the convention in selecting such an individual as should seem most competent to deliver her from the perils and dangers with which she was environed.

The reading of this remarkable communication, sent a thrill of astonishment and admiration through the hearts of all who listened to it. Many were affected to tears. Mr. Barbour said, after assenting to the determination of the convention, that he had been on terms of intimacy with Mr. Clay for thirty years, and that a more devoted or purer patriot and statesman never breathed, and that during that period he had never heard him give utterance to a single sentiment unworthy this character; that there was no place in his heart for one petty or selfish consideration. Mr. Leigh, of Virginia, said, he never thought that Mr. Clay needed the office, but that the country needed him. That office could confer no dignity or honor on Henry Clay. The measure of his fame was full, and whenever the tomb should close over him, it would cover the loftiest intellect and the noblest heart that this age had produced or known. ‘_I envy Kentucky, for when he dies she will have his ashes!_’ said the venerable Peter R. Livingston, of New York.

In selecting a candidate for the vice presidency, it was thought that a suitable one was found in John Tyler, of Virginia, who was accordingly chosen.

Mr. Clay concurred, cheerfully and nobly, in the nomination of general Harrison, and exerted himself manfully in promoting his election. Mr. Clay did not evince the slightest disappointment at the result of the nominating convention, but seemed to rejoice over it. In the presidential canvass, preceding the election of general Harrison, Mr. Clay took a prominent part. In advocating the claims of general Harrison to the presidency, he labored sedulously, also, to procure the adoption of those principles which he considered ought to constitute the rule of action to all virtuous politicians. Averse to every thing like concealment himself, respecting his political sentiments, he ascertained, accurately, those of general Harrison, and then faithfully exhibited them. The contest resulted in the election of general Harrison, who received two hundred and thirty-four of the two hundred and ninety-four electoral votes cast. By the same vote Mr. Tyler was elected to the vice presidency.

Mr. Clay continued, with unrelaxing energy, his services during the session of 1839–40. The land bill came up again, and a warm debate ensued between him and Mr. Calhoun, and somewhat harsh language passed between them. The latter insinuated, that, at a certain time, he had the ascendency over Mr. Clay in debate――that he was his (Mr. Clay’s) master. In reply, Mr. Clay said, that so far from admitting Mr. Calhoun to be his _master_, he would not own him for a _slave_. Mr. Clay, however, was not the man to harbor hard feelings towards any one, especially towards a political opponent. Soon after retiring from the senate in 1842, he met Mr. Calhoun as he was passing out of the senate chamber, and exchanged with him cordial salutations, while tears came to the eyes of both.

On a variety of questions of public interest, Mr. Clay spoke, the principal of which were, that of the abolition of slavery, the Maine boundary line, the navy appropriation bill, branch mints, expenditures of government, Cumberland road, and internal improvements. On the twentieth of January, 1840, he delivered a speech of rare ability on the sub-treasury, now called the independent treasury bill, which he denominated a government bank in disguise.

On all suitable occasions Mr. Clay frankly avowed his political faith, but never, perhaps, more minutely or explicitly, than at a dinner given to him at Taylorsville, in June, 1840. His speech at that time is a storehouse of sound political tenets, among which we find the following.

First. That there should be a provision to render a person ineligible to the office of president of the United States, after a service of one term.

Second. That the veto power should be more precisely defined, and be subjected to further limitations and qualifications.

Third. That the power of dismission from office should be restricted, and the exercise of it rendered responsible.

Fourth. That the control over the treasury of the United States should be confided and confined exclusively to congress; and all authority of the president over it, by means of dismissing the secretary of the treasury, or other persons having the immediate charge of it, be rigorously precluded.

Fifth. That the appointment of members of congress to any office, or any but a few specific offices, during their continuance in office, and for one year thereafter, be prohibited.

General Harrison, previously to commencing his journey to Washington, visited Mr. Clay, and tendered him any office in the president’s gift, but he courteously, yet firmly, declined accepting one, and expressed his unalterable resolution to withdraw from public life, as soon as he should see those fundamental measures, for which he had been so long and so ardently struggling, put in a train of accomplishment. To the very last of Mr. Van Buren’s administration, he labored untiringly to place them in such a position. He was the strenuous advocate of a uniform system of bankruptcy. This was embodied in a bill reported to the senate by the judiciary committee, in the spring of 1840, on account of the numerous petitions presented in its favor. It passed the senate, by a vote of twenty-four to twenty-three, but was defeated in the house.

Directly after the inauguration of general Harrison, he issued his proclamation ordering an extra session of congress, to commence on the last Monday in May. Before that period arrived, the president was no more. He died just one month after his introduction to office. The intelligence of his death filled the nation with sadness, yet no serious grounds of fear were entertained, because it was believed that Mr. Tyler would discharge the duties of the presidency with fidelity. Congress assembled in accordance with the proclamation of the late lamented Harrison. Mr. Clay commenced the public business with vigor and alacrity. The subjects which he deemed of pressing importance, and should engage the immediate attention of the senate, were,

First, the repeal of the sub-treasury law.

Secondly, the incorporation of a bank adapted to the wants of the people and government.

Thirdly, the provision of an adequate revenue, by the imposition of duties, and including an authority to contract a temporary loan to cover the public debt created by the last administration.

Fourthly, the prospective distribution of the proceeds of the public lands.

Fifthly, the passage of necessary appropriation bills.

Sixthly, some modification in the banking system of the District of Columbia, for the benefit of the people of the district.

From the head of the committee on finance, Mr. Clay moved the appointment of a select committee, to take into consideration the bank question, of which he was made chairman.

In June, Mr. Clay reported a plan for a national bank, which, after an animated discussion, was adopted by both houses, which, on the sixteenth of August, was vetoed by president Tyler. The return of the bill was hailed with mingled surprise, sorrow, and alarm, in the senate, which was addressed on the subject of the veto, by Mr. Clay, in strains of lofty eloquence, almost surpassing himself. Another bill was then framed with special reference to the objections of the president; in other words, it was just such a bill as he had recommended. The surprise and indignation were overwhelming, when it was known that this bill had encountered the fate of its predecessor. Mr. Clay did not scruple to denounce the exercise of the veto, as he had denounced it in the case of general Jackson, as unjustifiable, and as involving a manifest encroachment upon the liberties of the people.

With the solitary exception of Mr. Webster, the cabinet resigned their seats, and the feeling of indignation, enkindled at Washington, spread through and lit up the whole country into a glow of wrath, at the uncalled for and unexpected procedure of Mr. Tyler.

Although baffled, and in a measure defeated, by the despotism of one man, still Mr. Clay did not slacken his exertions to render relief to his suffering and distracted country. He was at the head of two important committees, and performed an amount of labor truly surprising. He had the gratification of witnessing the repeal of the abominable sub-treasury scheme, the passage of the bankrupt law, and his land bill.

An attempt to adjust the tariff was made, which occasioned another veto from the president. This was directed mainly against the distribution clause, which was finally surrendered to accommodate the views of the president. The tariff bill at length became a law.

On the thirty-first of March, 1842, Mr. Clay executed his long and fondly cherished design of retiring to the quiet of private life. He resigned his seat in the senate, and presented to that body the credentials of Mr. Crittenden, his friend, and successor. The scene which ensued when he tendered his resignation, was indescribably thrilling. It was not unlike that, when the father of his country, surrounded by his companions in arms, pronounced his farewell address, as they were about to disband and enter upon the possession and enjoyment of that independence which their invincible arms had won. Had the guardian genius of congress and the nation been about to take his departure, and giving his parting admonitions, deeper feeling could hardly have been manifested, than when Mr. Clay rose to address, on this occasion, his congressional compeers. An individual witnessing the breathless silence that pervaded the densely crowded senate chamber, and the tears flowing freely and copiously from the eyes of all, would have said, that wherever else Mr. Clay might have enemies, he had none in that assembly. In those who were politically opposed, and in those who were personally hostile to him, the movings of the best principles of our being were not subjected to the cruel control of selfishness or envy, but permitted to respond to the voice of nature, calling them in her most enticing tones to unite with his devoted friends, in bearing appropriate testimony to his public worth. The former no less than the latter, manifested the most sincere regret at the prospect of his departure. All felt that a master spirit was bidding them adieu――that the pride and ornament of the senate and the glory of the nation was being removed, and all grieved in view of the void that would be made. He spoke as it might be expected the patriot warrior of a thousand victorious battles would speak, standing on the field where they were fought――the living, burning, sublime sentiments of patriotism. His feelings often overpowered him. His voice, naturally musical, seemed the very refinement of sweetness and pathos, whose honied accents sank into the hearts of his hearers, like heaven’s benediction. When Mr. Clay closed, the most intense emotion agitated the senate. Mr. Preston rose, and remarked, in view of it, that he presumed there would be little disposition to transact business; that the event that had just occurred, was an epoch in the legislative history of the nation, and that therefore he would move that the senate adjourn. The motion was adopted unanimously.

His resignation as senator did not by any means close his intercourse with his fellow-countrymen. He still labored for his country; and by letters from his residence in Kentucky, and by speeches delivered there and elsewhere, frequently sent forth his opinions on the various topics of the day. The Whig party had long regarded him as their most prominent candidate for the chief magistracy, and he was nominated by acclamation in the convention of 1844, when ‘Justice to Henry Clay,’ was the watchword of the contest. He was defeated, however, by the late James K. Polk, who unexpectedly received the democratic nomination, and remained in retirement until after the election of General Taylor to the Presidency. In compliance with the earnest wishes of his political friends he consented to resume his seat in the senate, and in 1849 was again elected to that honorable position. During the exciting session of 1849–50, all his energies were devoted to securing the passage of the series of measures known as the ‘Compromise Acts,’ and there is no doubt that his incessant and intense labors upon the multifarious schemes which engrossed the attention of congress, occasioned serious debility and hastened his death. When, in the winter of 1850–51, it became but too evident that his disease was gaining the mastery over him, he visited New Orleans and Havana, in the hope that travel and relaxation, united with the effects of change of climate, would renovate his physical system. No ♦permanent advantage, however, resulted from this experiment, and he was again induced, by a consciousness of his failing health, to resign his seat in the senate――the resignation to take effect on the 6th of September, 1852. But he was not destined to see that day. He became gradually weaker and weaker, and was confined to his room in Washington for several weeks, where he breathed his last on the morning of the 29th of June, 1852, at seventeen minutes past eleven o’clock. No one was present at the time, except his son, Thomas Hart Clay, and governor Jones, of Tennessee. His last moments were calm and quiet, and he seemed in full possession of all his faculties, apparently suffering but little. He did not speak for many hours before his dissolution, but his countenance indicated a happy resignation and full knowledge of his condition. He had long previously made every preparation for death, giving his son full instructions as to the disposition of his body and the settlement of his worldly affairs.

Perhaps the death of no individual since that of the revered Washington ever spread such a universal gloom over the country. In all the principal cities of the Union, funeral honors were paid to his memory, which were heartfelt and sincere, and evinced a pervading feeling in the public mind that a great benefactor and friend was no more. In the Senate and House of Representatives, as will be seen by the subjoined proceedings, every one seemed anxious to testify his respect for the memory of the great man who had so long figured in our national councils. Political differences were forgotten, and all parties united in rendering homage to his transcendent worth and in mourning his irreparable loss. A committee was appointed to attend his remains to Kentucky, where they now repose.

We shall not attempt an analysis of his mind, conscious of our inability to do it justice. Its powers were so numerous and so great, as to make the task no light one. Its most prominent attribute was _patriotism_. This was the sun of its lofty faculties, which revolved about it in the order of satellites. Every thing was subordinate to, or absorbed by it. This was seen in every part of his career, towering magnificently upwards, like a mighty mountain, to bathe its head in everlasting sunshine, and formed its loveliest and most attractive feature. With Mr. Clay, patriotism was no unmeaning word. He made it the grand test of both principle and measure, and the main-spring of action. His devotion to it was most remarkable; so exclusive, as to lead him to sacrifice every other consideration upon its altar. On one occasion, acting under its influence, he said to Mr. Grundy, ‘Tell general Jackson, that if he will sign _that bill_ (the land bill), I will pledge myself to retire from congress, and _never enter public life again_;’ of such vital importance did he consider that bill to the welfare of his beloved country. One cannot avoid breaking out in exclamations of admiration, and reverence, even, in view of such self-immolating political purity, as this sincere declaration evinces. _My country, my country_, seems to have been the constant apex of his thoughts and wishes. This attribute gave to his commanding eloquence its invincible power, and was the rocky pedestal on which he reared the temple of his immortal fame.

Political consistency was another prominent characteristic of Mr. Clay. This, like a line of light, is traceable through all his public life. The soundness of his judgment was worthy of note, by which he was enabled to predict, with almost prophetic accuracy, the effect of the adoption of certain measures. As a writer, Mr. Clay’s style was nervous, perspicuous, and concise, evincing the freshness and beauty of originality, usually moving on in a deep and quiet current, but at times rushing like the mountain torrent, overthrowing all obstacles. He was peculiarly qualified for the regions of argument and close investigation, yet he could soar into that of imagination, and whenever he did, it was the flight of the eagle towards heaven. His power of illustration was felicitous, demonstrating an intimate acquaintance with the secret springs of the soul, and a sagacious knowledge of its ♦mysterious movements. His conversational faculties were striking, and exceedingly versatile, enabling him to accommodate himself to the capacities of all, to the humblest, as well as to the loftiest intellect. It was remarked of Mr. Burke, by Dr. Johnson, that if a tempest, or any other occurrence, should cause him to take shelter under the roof of a peasant, he would find sufficient topics to employ his conversational powers, and _would so employ_ them as to leave indelibly impressed upon the mind of its lowly occupant, the belief, that he was listening to no ordinary man. This would be emphatically true of Mr. Clay, who possessed, in an eminent degree, the faculty attributed to Mr. Burke. It was the exercise of this, that so endeared him to those who were privileged to come within the sphere of its influence, which invested his domestic and social relations with their greatest charms.

In private life, Mr. Clay exhibited the noblest characteristics of human nature, which may be expressed by one word――_openheartedness_. He was kind and liberal to a fault. Says one who was intimate with him, ‘his door and his purse were alike open to the friendless stranger and the unfortunate neighbor. Frank, open, and above the meanness of deception himself, and consequently never searching for duplicity and treachery in those around him, he more than once suffered from the vile ingratitude of men who have been cherished by his bounty and upheld by his influence.

‘The curse of aristocracy never chilled the warm flow of his natural feelings. His heart continued as warm, his hand as free, and his smile as familiar as they were when, without friends and without influence, he first responded to the hearty welcome of the Kentuckian. His feelings never changed with his fortunes.’

Mr. Clay was admirably qualified for the interchange of social and friendly feelings, in which he indulged most judiciously. His convivial interviews were enlivened by enjoyments of a marked intellectual character. His readiness at repartee, and aptitude for reply, were conspicuous features in his character. No emergency, however sudden or unexpected, found him unprepared, or disarmed him. He perceived the bearing of remarks, with the quickness of intuition, however vague or ambiguous they might be, and, with the suddenness of thought, framed and uttered a suitable reply.

Perhaps we cannot better close this imperfect memoir than by appending the following eloquent tribute from the pen of GEORGE D. PRENTICE, Esq. It originally appeared in the _Southern Ladies’ Book_, for June, 1853, and has been extensively republished in other periodicals――an evidence of its claim to preservation in a less perishable form.

HENRY CLAY.

With voice and mien of stern control
He stood among the great and proud,
And words of fire burst from his soul
Like lightnings from the tempest cloud;
His high and deathless themes were crowned
With glory of his genius born,
And gloom and ruin darkly frowned
Where fell his bolts of wrath and scorn.

But he is gone――the free, the bold――
The champion of his country’s right;
His burning eye is dim and cold,
And mute his voice of conscious might.
Oh no, not mute――his stirring call
Can startle tyrants on their thrones,
And on the hearts of nations fall
More awful than his living tones.

The impulse that his spirit gave
To human thought’s wild, stormy sea,
Will heave and thrill through every wave
Of that great deep eternally;
And the all-circling atmosphere,
With which is blent his breath of flame,
Will sound, with cadence deep and clear,
In storm and calm, his voice and name.

His words that like a bugle blast
Erst rang along the Grecian shore,
And o’er the hoary Andes passed,
Will still ring on for evermore.
Great Liberty will catch the sounds,
And start to newer, brighter life,
And summon from Earth’s utmost bounds
Her children to the glorious strife.

Unnumbered pilgrims o’er the wave,
In the far ages yet to be,
Will come to kneel beside his grave,
And hail him prophet of the free.
’Tis holier ground, that lowly bed
In which his mouldering form is laid,
Than fields where Liberty has bled
Beside her broken battle-blade.

Who now, in danger’s fearful hour,
When all around is wild and dark,
Shall guard with voice, and arm of power,
Our freedom’s consecrated ark?
With stricken hearts, Oh God, to Thee,
Beneath whose feet the stars are dust,
We bow, and ask that thou wilt be
Through every ill our stay and trust.

OBITUARY ADDRESSES

ON THE OCCASION OF
THE DEATH OF THE HON. HENRY CLAY;

DELIVERED IN THE
SENATE AND THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES,

AND

THE FUNERAL SERMON,

PREACHED IN THE CAPITOL, JULY 1, 1852,
BY THE REV. C. M. BUTLER, CHAPLAIN OF THE SENATE.

SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 30, 1852.

AFTER the reading of the Journal, Mr. Underwood rose, and addressed the senate as follows:

MR. PRESIDENT: I rise to announce the death of my colleague, Mr. Clay. He died at his lodgings, in the National Hotel of this city, at seventeen minutes past eleven o’clock yesterday morning, in the seventy-sixth year of his age. He expired with perfect composure, and without a groan or struggle.

By his death our country has lost one of its most eminent citizens and statesmen; and, I think, its greatest genius. I shall not detain the Senate by narrating the transactions of his long and useful life. His distinguished services as a statesman are inseparably connected with the history of his country. As Representative and Speaker in the other House of Congress, as Senator in this body, as Secretary of State, and as Envoy abroad, he has, in all these positions, exhibited a wisdom and patriotism which have made a deep and lasting impression upon the grateful hearts of his countrymen. His thoughts and his actions have already been published to the world in written biography; in Congressional debates and reports; in the Journals of the two Houses; and in the pages of American history. They have been commemorated by monuments erected on the wayside. They have been engraven on medals of gold. Their memory will survive the monuments of marble and the medals of gold; for these are effaced and decay by the friction of ages. But the thoughts and actions of my late colleague have become identified with the immortality of the human mind, and will pass down from generation to generation, as a portion of our national inheritance, incapable of annihilation, so long as genius has an admirer or liberty a friend.

Mr. President: The character of Henry Clay was formed and developed by the influence of our free institutions. His physical, mental, and moral faculties were the gift of God. That they were greatly superior to the faculties allotted to most men, cannot be questioned. They were not cultivated, improved, and directed by a liberal or collegiate education. His respectable parents were not wealthy, and had not the means of maintaining their children at college. Moreover, his father died when he was a boy. At an early period, Mr. Clay was thrown upon his own resources, without patrimony. He grew up in a clerk’s office in Richmond, Virginia. He there studied law. He emigrated from his native state, and settled in Lexington, Kentucky, where he commenced the practice of his profession before he was of full age.

The road to wealth, to honour, and fame, was open before him. Under our Constitution and laws he might freely employ his great faculties unobstructed by legal impediments, and unaided by exclusive privileges. Very soon Mr. Clay made a deep and favorable impression upon the people among whom he began his career. The excellence of his natural faculties was soon displayed. Necessity stimulated him in their cultivation. His assiduity, skill, and fidelity in professional engagements secured public confidence. He was elected member of the legislature of Kentucky, in which body he served several sessions prior to 1806. In that year he was elevated to a seat in the senate of the United States.

At the bar and in the General Assembly of Kentucky, Mr. Clay first manifested those high qualities as a public speaker which have secured to him so much popular applause and admiration. His physical and mental organization eminently qualified him to become a great and impressive orator. His person was tall, slender, and commanding. His temperament ardent, fearless, and full of hope. His countenance clear, expressive, and variable――indicating the emotion which predominated at the moment with exact similitude. His voice, cultivated and modulated in harmony with the sentiment he desired to express, fell upon the ear like the melody of enrapturing music. His eye beaming with intelligence and flashing with coruscations of genius. His gestures and attitudes graceful and natural. These personal advantages won the prepossessions of an audience, even before his intellectual powers began to move his hearers; and when his strong common sense, his profound reasoning, his clear conceptions of his subject in all its bearings, and his striking and beautiful illustrations, united with such personal qualities, were brought to the discussion of any question, his audience was enraptured, convinced, and led by the orator as if enchanted by the lyre of Orpheus.

No man was ever blessed by his Creator with faculties of a higher order of excellence than those given to Mr. Clay. In the quickness of his perceptions, and the rapidity with which his conclusions were formed, he had few equals and no superior. He was eminently endowed with a nice, discriminating taste for order, symmetry, and beauty. He detected in a moment every thing out of place or deficient in his room, upon his farm, in his own or the dress of others. He was a skilful judge of the form and qualities of his domestic animals, which he delighted to raise on his farm. I could give you instances of the quickness and minuteness of his keen faculty of observation which never overlooked any thing. A want of neatness and order was offensive to him. He was particular and neat in his handwriting and his apparel. A slovenly blot or negligence of any sort met his condemnation; while he was so organized that he attended to, and arranged little things to please and gratify his natural love for neatness, order, and beauty, his great intellectual faculties grasped all the subjects of jurisprudence and politics with a facility amounting almost to intuition. As a lawyer, he stood at the head of his profession. As a statesman, his stand at the head of the Republican Whig party for nearly half a century, establishes his title to preeminence among his illustrious associates.

Mr. Clay was deeply versed in all the springs of human action. He had read and studied biography and history. Shortly after I left college, I had occasion to call on him in Frankfort, where he was attending court, and well I remember to have found him with Plutarch’s Lives in his hands. No one better than he knew how to avail himself of human motives, and all the circumstances which surrounded a subject, or could present them with more force and skill to accomplish the object of an argument.

Mr. Clay, throughout his public career, was influenced by the loftiest patriotism. Confident in the truth of his convictions and the purity of his purposes, he was ardent, sometimes impetuous, in the pursuit of objects which he believed essential to the general welfare. Those who stood in his way were thrown aside without fear or ceremony. He never affected a courtier’s deference to men or opinions which he thought hostile to the best interests of his country; and hence he may have wounded the vanity of those who thought themselves of consequence. It is certain, whatever the cause, that at one period of his life Mr. Clay might have been referred to as proof that there is more truth than fiction in those profound lines of the poet――

‘He who ascends the mountain top shall find
Its loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow;
He who surpasses or subdues mankind,
Must look down on the hate of those below:
Though far above the sun of glory glow,
And far beneath the earth and ocean spread.
Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow
Contending tempests on his naked head,
And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.’

Calumny and detraction emptied their vials upon him. But how glorious the change! He outlived malice and envy. He lived long enough to prove to the world that his ambition was no more than a holy aspiration to make his country the greatest, most powerful, and best governed on the earth. If he desired its highest office, it was because the greater power and influence resulting from such elevation would enable him to do more than he otherwise could for the progress and advancement――first of his own countrymen, then of his whole race. His sympathies embraced all. The African slave, the Creole of Spanish America, the children of renovated classic Greece――all families of men, without respect to color or clime, found in his expanded bosom and comprehensive intellect a friend of their elevation and amelioration. Such ambition as that, is God’s implantation in the human heart for raising the down-trodden nations of the earth, and fitting them for regenerated existence in politics, in morals, and religion.

Bold and determined as Mr. Clay was in all his actions, he was, nevertheless, conciliating. He did not obstinately adhere to things impracticable. If he could not accomplish the best, he contented himself with the nighest approach to it. He has been the great compromiser of those political agitations and opposing opinions which have, in the belief of thousands, at different times, endangered the perpetuity of our Federal Government and Union.

Mr. Clay was no less remarkable for his admirable social qualities than for his intellectual abilities. As a companion, he was the delight of his friends; and no man ever had better or truer. They have loved him from the beginning, and loved him to the last. His hospitable mansion at Ashland was always open to their reception. No guest ever thence departed without feeling happier for his visit. But, alas! that hospitable mansion has already been converted into a house of mourning; already has intelligence of his death passed with electric velocity to that aged and now widowed lady, who, for more than fifty years, bore to him all the endearing relations of wife, and whose feeble condition prevented her from joining him in this city, and soothing the anguish of life’s last scene by those endearing attentions which no one can give so well as woman and a wife. May God infuse into her heart and mind the Christian spirit of submission under her bereavement! It cannot be long before she may expect a rëunion in Heaven. A nation condoles with her and her children on account of their irreparable loss.

Mr. Clay, from the nature of his disease, declined very gradually. He bore his protracted sufferings with great equanimity and patience. On one occasion, he said to me, that when death was inevitable and must soon come, and when the sufferer was ready to die, he did not perceive the wisdom of praying to be ‘delivered from sudden death.’ He thought under such circumstances the sooner suffering was relieved by death the better. He desired the termination of his own sufferings, while he acknowledged the duty of patiently waiting and abiding the pleasure of God. Mr. Clay frequently spoke to me of his hope of eternal life, founded upon the merits of Jesus Christ as a Saviour; who, as he remarked, came into the world to bring ‘life and immortality to light.’ He was a member of the Episcopalian Church. In one of our conversations he told me, that as his hour of dissolution approached, he found that his affections were concentrating more and more upon his domestic circle――his wife and children. In my daily visits, he was in the habit of asking me to detail to him the transactions of the senate. This I did, and he manifested much interest in passing occurrences. His inquiries were less frequent as his end approached. For the week preceding his death, he seemed to be altogether abstracted from the concerns of the world. When he became so low that he could not converse without being fatigued, he frequently requested those around him to converse. He would then quietly listen. He retained his mental faculties in great perfection. His memory remained perfect. He frequently mentioned events and conversations of recent occurrence, showing that he had a perfect recollection of what was said and done. He said to me that he was grateful to God for continuing to him the blessing of reason, which enabled him to contemplate and reflect on his situation. He manifested during his confinement the same characteristics which marked his conduct through the vigor of his life. He was exceedingly averse to give his friends ‘_trouble_,’ as he called it. Some time before he knew it, we commenced waiting through the night in an adjoining room. He said to me, after passing a painful day, ‘Perhaps some one had better remain all night in the parlor.’ From this time he knew some friend was constantly at hand, ready to attend to him.

Mr. President, the majestic form of Mr. Clay will no more grace these halls. No more shall we hear that voice which has so often thrilled and charmed the assembled representatives of the American people. No more shall we see that waving hand and eye of light, as when he was engaged unfolding his policy in regard to the varied interests of our growing and mighty republican empire. His voice is silent on earth for ever! The darkness of death has obscured the lustre of his eye. But the memory of his services――not only to his beloved Kentucky, not only to the United States, but for the cause of human freedom and progress throughout the world――will live through future ages, as a bright example, stimulating and encouraging his own countrymen and the people of all nations in their patriotic devotions to country and humanity.

With Christians, there is yet a nobler and a higher thought in regard to Mr. Clay. They will think of him in connection with eternity. They will contemplate his immortal spirit occupying its true relative magnitude among the moral stars of glory in the presence of God. They will think of him as having fulfilled the duties allotted to him on earth, having been regenerated by Divine grace, and having passed through the valley of the shadow of death, and reached an everlasting and happy home in that ‘house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.’

On Sunday morning last I was watching alone at Mr. Clay’s bedside. For the last hour he had been unusually quiet, and I thought he was sleeping. In that, however, he told me I was mistaken. Opening his eyes and looking at me, he said, ‘Mr. Underwood, there may be some question where my remains shall be buried. Some persons may designate Frankfort. I wish to repose at the cemetery in Lexington, where many of my friends and connections are buried.’ My reply was, ‘I will endeavor to have your wish executed.’

I now ask the senate to have his corpse transmitted to Lexington, Kentucky, for sepulture. Let him sleep with the dead of that city, in and near which his home has been for more than half a century. For the people of Lexington, the living and the dead, he manifested, by the statement made to me, a pure and holy sympathy, and a desire to cleave unto them, as strong as that which bound Ruth to Naomi. It was his anxious wish to return to them before he died, and to realize what the daughter of Moab so strongly felt and beautifully expressed: ‘Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried.’

It is fit that the tomb of Henry Clay should be in the city of Lexington. In our Revolution, liberty’s first libation-blood was poured out in a town of that name in Massachusetts. On hearing it, the pioneers of Kentucky consecrated the name, and applied it to the place where Mr. Clay desired to be buried. The associations connected with the name harmonize with his character; and the monument erected to his memory at the spot selected by him will be visited by the votaries of genius and liberty with that reverence which is inspired at the tomb of Washington. Upon that monument let his epitaph be engraved.

Mr. President, I have availed myself of Doctor Johnson’s paraphrase of the epitaph on Thomas Hanmer, with a few alterations and additions, to express in borrowed verse my admiration for the life and character of Mr. Clay, and with this heart-tribute to the memory of my illustrious colleague I conclude my remarks:

Born when Freedom her stripes and stars unfurl’d,
When Revolution shook the startled world――
Heroes and sages taught his brilliant mind
To know and love the rights of all mankind.
‘In life’s first bloom his public toils began,
At once commenced the senator and man:
In business dext’rous, weighty in debate,
Near fifty years he labor’d for the state.
In every speech persuasive wisdom flow’d,
In every act refulgent virtue glow’d;
Suspended faction ceased from rage and strife,
To hear his eloquence and praise his life.
Resistless merit fixed the Members’ choice,
Who hail’d him Speaker with united voice.’
His talents ripening with advancing years――
His wisdom growing with his public cares――
A chosen envoy, war’s dark horrors cease,
And tides of carnage turn to streams of peace.
Conflicting principles; internal strife,
Tariff and slavery, disunion rife,
All, all are _compromised_ by his great hand,
And beams of joy illuminate the land.
Patriot, Christian, Husband, Father, Friend,
Thy work of life achieved a glorious end!

I offer the following resolutions:

_Resolved_, That a committee of six be appointed by the
president of the senate, to take order for superintending the
funeral of Henry Clay, late a member of this body, which will
take place to-morrow at twelve o’clock, M., and that the senate
will attend the same.

_Resolved_, That the members of the senate, from a sincere
desire of showing every mark of respect to the memory of the
deceased, will go into mourning for one month by the usual mode
of wearing crape on the left arm.

_Resolved_, As a further mark of respect entertained by
the senate for the memory of Henry Clay, and his long and
distinguished services to his country, that his remains, in
pursuance of the known wishes of his family, be removed to the
place of sepulture selected by himself at Lexington, in Kentucky,
in charge of the sergeant at arms, and attended by a committee
of six senators, to be appointed by the president of the senate,
who shall have full power to carry this resolution into effect.

* * * * *

Mr. CASS.――Mr. President: Again has an impressive warning come to teach us, that in the midst of life we are in death. The ordinary labors of this hall are suspended, and its contentions hushed, before the power of Him, who says to the storm of human passion, as He said of old to the waves of Galilee, PEACE, BE STILL. The lessons of His providence, severe as they may be, often become merciful dispensations, like that which is now spreading sorrow through the land, and which is reminding us that we have higher duties to fulfil, and graver responsibilities to encounter, than those that meet us here, when we lay our hand upon His holy word, and invoke His holy name, promising to be faithful to that Constitution, which He gave us in His mercy, and will withdraw only in the hour of our blindness and disobedience, and of His own wrath.

Another great man has fallen in our land, ripe indeed in years and in honors, but never dearer to the American people than when called from the theatre of his services and renown to that final bar where the lofty and the lowly must all meet at last.

I do not rise, upon this mournful occasion, to indulge in the language of panegyric. My regard for the memory of the dead, and for the obligations of the living, would equally rebuke such a course. The severity of truth is, at once, our proper duty and our best consolation. Born during the revolutionary struggle, our deceased associate was one of the few remaining public men who connect the present generation with the actors in the trying scenes of that eventful period, and whose names and deeds will soon be known only in the history of their country. He was another illustration, and a noble one, too, of the glorious equality of our institutions, which freely offer all their rewards to all who justly seek them; for he was the architect of his own fortune, having made his way in life by self-exertion; and he was an early adventurer in the great forest of the West, then a world of primitive vegetation, but now the abode of intelligence and religion, of prosperity and civilization. But he possessed that intellectual superiority which overcomes surrounding obstacles, and which local seclusion cannot long withhold from general knowledge and appreciation.

It is almost half a century since he passed through Chilicothe, then the seat of government of Ohio, where I was a member of the legislature, on his way to take his place in this very body, which is now listening to this reminiscence, and to a feeble tribute of regard from one who then saw him for the first time, but who can never forget the impression he produced by the charms of his conversation, the frankness of his manner, and the high qualities with which he was endowed. Since then he has belonged to his country, and has taken a part, and a prominent part, both in peace and war, in all the great questions affecting her interest and her honor; and though it has been my fortune often to differ from him, yet I believe he was as pure a patriot as ever participated in the councils of a nation, anxious for the public good, and seeking to promote it, during all the vicissitudes of a long and eventful life. That he exercised a powerful influence, within the sphere of his action, through the whole country, indeed, we all feel and know; and we know, too, the eminent endowments to which he owed this high distinction. Frank and fearless in the expression of his opinion, and in the performance of his duties, with rare powers of eloquence, which never failed to rivet the attention of his auditory, and which always commanded admiration, even when they did not carry conviction――prompt in decision, and firm in action, and with a vigorous intellect, trained in the contests of a stirring life, and strengthened by enlarged experience and observation, joined withal to an ardent love of country, and to great purity of purpose,――these were the elements of his power and success; and we dwell upon them with mournful gratification now, when we shall soon follow him to the cold and silent tomb, where we shall commit “earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” but with the blessed conviction of the truth of that Divine revelation which teaches us that there is life and hope beyond the narrow house, where we shall leave him alone to the mercy of his God and ours.

He has passed beyond the reach of human praise or censure; but the judgment of his contemporaries has preceded and pronounced the judgment of history, and his name and fame will shed lustre upon his country, and will be proudly cherished in the hearts of his countrymen for long ages to come. Yes, they will be cherished and freshly remembered, when these marble columns that surround us, so often the witnesses of his triumph――but in a few brief hours, when his mortal frame, despoiled of the immortal spirit, shall rest under this dome for the last time, to become the witnesses of his defeat in that final contest, where the mightiest fall before the great destroyer――when these marble columns shall themselves have fallen, like all the works of man, leaving their broken fragments to tell the story of former magnificence, amid the very ruins which announce decay and desolation.

I was often with him during his last illness, when the world and the things of the world were fast fading away before him. He knew that the silver cord was almost loosened, and that the golden bowl was breaking at the fountain; but he was resigned to the will of Providence, feeling that he who gave has the right to take away, in his own good time and manner. After his duty to his Creator, and his anxiety for his family, his first care was for his country, and his first wish for the preservation and perpetuation of the Constitution and the Union――dear to him in the hour of death, as they had ever been in the vigor of life. Of that Constitution and Union, whose defence in the last and greatest crisis of their peril, had called forth all his energies, and stimulated those memorable and powerful exertions, which he who witnessed can never forget, and which no doubt hastened the final catastrophe a nation now deplores, with a sincerity and unanimity, not less honorable to themselves, than to the memory of the object of their affections. And when we shall enter that narrow valley, through which he has passed before us, and which leads to the judgment-seat of God, may we be able to say, through faith in his Son, our Saviour, and in the beautiful language of the hymn of the dying Christian――dying, but ever living, and triumphant――

‘The world recedes, it disappears――
Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring;
Lend, lend your wings! I mount――I fly!
Oh, Grave! where is thy victory?
Oh, Death! where is thy sting!’

‘Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last hour be like his.’

* * * * *

Mr. HUNTER.――Mr. President: We have heard, with deep sensibility, what has just fallen from the senators who have preceded me. We have heard, sir, the voice of Kentucky――and, upon this occasion, she had a right to speak――in mingled accents of pride and sorrow; for it has rarely fallen to the lot of any state to lament the loss of such a son. But Virginia, too, is entitled to her place in this procession; for she cannot be supposed to be unmindful of the tie which bound her to the dead. When the earth opens to receive the mortal part which she gave to man, it is then that affection is eager to bury in its bosom every recollection but those of love and kindness. And, sir, when the last sensible tie is about to be severed, it is then that we look with anxious interest to the deeds of the life, and to the emanations of the heart and the mind, for those more enduring monuments which are the creations of an immortal nature.