‘His life was gentle; and the elementsSo mixed in him, that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world,This was a man!’But who can estimate his country’s loss? What tongue portray the desolation which in this hour throughout this broad land hangs like a gloomy pall over his grief-stricken countrymen? How poorly can words like mine translate the eloquence of a whole people’s grief for a patriot’s death. For a nation’s loss let a nation mourn. For that stupendous calamity to our country and mankind, be the heavens hung with black; let the wailing elements chant his dirge, and the universal heart of man throb with one common pang of grief and anguish.Mr.CASKIEsaid:Mr.Speaker, Unwell as I am, I must try to lay a single laurel leaf in that open coffin, which is already garlanded by the eloquent tributes to the illustrious departed, which have been heard in this now solemn hall; for I come, sir, from the district of his birth. I represent on this floor that old Hanover so proud of her Henrys—her Patrick Henry and her Henry Clay. I speak for a people among whom he has always had as earnest and devoted friends as were ever the grace and glory of a patriot and statesman.I shall attempt no sketch of his life. That you have had from other and abler hands than mine. Till yesterday that life was, of his own free gift, the property of his country; to-day it belongs to her history. It is known to all, and will not be forgotten. Constant, stern opponent of his political school as has been my state, I say for her, that no where in this broad land are his great qualities more admired, or his death more mourned, than in Virginia. Well may this be so; for she is his mother, and he was her son.Mr.Speaker, when I remember the party strifes in which he wasso much mingled, and through which we all more or less have passed, and then survey this scene, and think how far, as the lightning has borne the news that he is gone, half-masted flags are drooping and church-bells are tolling, and men are sorrowing, I can but feel that it is good for man to die. For when death enters, O! how the unkindnesses, and jealousies, and rivalries of life do vanish, and how like incense from an altar do peace, and friendship, and all the sweet charities of our nature, rise around the corpse which was once a man! And of a truth,Mr.Speaker, never was more of veritable noblemanhoodcased in mortal mould than was found in him to whose memory this brief and humble, but true and heartfelt tribute is paid. But his eloquent voice is hushed, his high heart is stilled. ‘Like a shock of corn fully ripe, he has been gathered to his fathers.’ With more than three score years and ten upon him, and honors clustered thick about him, in the full possession of unclouded intellect, and all the consolations of Christianity, he has met the fate which is evitable by none. Lamented by all his countrymen, his name is bright on fame’s immortal roll. He has finished his course, and he has his crown. What more fruit can life bear? What can it give that Henry Clay has not gained?Then,Mr.Speaker, around his tomb should be heard not only the dirge that wails his loss, but the jubilant anthem which sounds that on the world’s battle-field another victory has been won—anotherincontestable greatnessachieved.Mr.CHANDLER, of Pennsylvania, said:Mr.Speaker, It would seem as if the solemn invocation of the honorable gentleman from Kentucky(Mr.EWING)was receiving an early answer, and that the heavens are hung in black, and the wailing elements are singing the funeral dirge of Henry Clay. Amid this elemental gloom, and the distress which pervades the nation at the death of Henry Clay, private grief should not obtrude itself upon notice, nor personal anguish seek for utterance. Silence is the best exponent of individual sorrow, and the heart that knoweth its own bitterness shrinks from an exposition of its affliction.Could I have consulted my own feelings on the event which occupies the attention of the house at the present moment, I should even have forborne attendance here, and in the solitude and silence of my chamber have mused upon the terrible lesson which has been administered to the people and the nation. But I represent a constituency who justly pride themselves upon the unwavering attachment they have ever felt and manifested to Henry Clay—a constant, pervading, hereditary love. The son has taken up the father’s affection, and amid all the professions of political attachments to others, whom the accidents of party have made prominent, and the success of party has made powerful, true to his own instincts, and true to the sanctified legacy of his father, he has placed the name of Henry Clay forward and preëminent as the exponent of what isgreatest in statesmanship and purest in patriotism. And even, sir, when party fealty caused other attachments to be avowed for party uses, the preference was limited to the occupancy of office, and superiority admitted for Clay in all that is reckoned above party estimation.Nor ought I to forbear to add that, as the senior member of the delegation which represents my commonwealth, I am requested to utter the sentiments of the people of Pennsylvania at large, who yield to no portion of this great Union in their appreciation of the talents, their reverence for the lofty patriotism, their admiration of the statesmanship, and hereafter their love of the memory of Henry Clay.I cannot, therefore, be silent on this occasion without injustice to the affections of my constituency, even though I painfully feel how inadequate to the reverence and love my people have toward that statesman must be all that I have to utter on this mournful occasion.I know not,Mr.Chairman, where now the nation is to find the men she needs in peril; either other calls than those of politics are holding in abeyance the talents which the nation may need, or else a generation is to pass undistinguished by the greatness of our statesmen. Of the noble minds that have swayed the senate, one yet survives in the maturity of powerful intellect, carefully disciplined and nobly exercised. May He who has thus far blessed our nation, spare to her and the world that of which the world must always envy our country the possession! But my business is with the dead.The biography of Henry Clay, from his childhood upward, is too familiar to every American for me to trespass on the time of this house by a reference directly thereto; and the honorable gentlemen who have preceded me have, with affectionate hand and appropriate delicacy, swept away the dust which nearly fourscore years have scattered over a part of the record, and have made our pride greater in his life, and our grief more poignant at his death, by showing some of those passages which attract respect to our republican institutions, of whichMr.Clay’s whole life was the able support and the most successful illustration.It would, then, be a work of supererogation for me to renew that effort, though inquiry into the life and conduct of Henry Clay would present new themes for private eulogy, new grounds for public gratitude.How rare is it,Mr.Speaker, that the great man, living, can with confidence rely on extensive personal friendship, or dying, think to awaken a sentiment of regret beyond that which includes the public loss or the disappointment of individual hopes. Yet, sir, the message which yesterday went forth from this city that Henry Clay was dead, brought sorrow—personal, private, special sorrow—to the hearts of thousands; each of whom felt that from his own love for, his long attachment to, his disinterested hopes in Henry Clay, he had a particular sorrow to cherish and express, which weighed upon his heart, separate from the sense of national loss.No man,Mr.Speaker, in our nation had the art so to identify himself with public measures of the most momentous character, and to maintain at the same time almost universal affection, like that great statesman. His business, from his boyhood, was with national concerns, and he dealt with them as with familiar things. And yet his sympathies were with individual interests, enterprises, affections, joys, and sorrows; and while every patriot bowed in humble deference to his lofty attainments and heartfelt gratitude for his national services, almost every man in this vast republic knew that the great statesman was, in feeling and experience, identified with his own position. Hence the universal love of the people; hence their enthusiasm in all times for his fame. Hence, sir, their present grief.Many other public men of our country have distinguished themselves and brought honor to the nation by superiority in some particular branch of public service, but it seems to have been the gift ofMr.Clay to have acquired peculiar eminence in every path of duty he was called to tread. In the earnestness of debate, which great public interests and distinguished opposing talents excited in this house, he had no superior in energy, force, or effect. Yet, as the presiding officer, by blandness of language and firmness of purpose, he soothed and made orderly; and thus, by official dignity, he commanded the respect which energy had secured to him on the floor.Wherever official or social duties demanded an exercise of his power, there was a preëminence which seemed prescriptively his own. In the lofty debate of the senate and the stirring harangues to popular assemblages, he was the orator of the nation and of the people; and the sincerity of purpose and the unity of design evinced in all he said or did, fixed in the public mind a confidence strong and expansive as the affections he had won.Year after year, sir, has Henry Clay been achieving the work of the mission with which he was intrusted; and it was only when the warmest wishes of his warmest friends were disappointed, that he entered on the fruition of a patriot’s highest hopes, and stood in the full enjoyment of that admiration and confidence which nothing but the antagonism of party relations could have divided.How rich that enjoyment must have been it is only for us to imagine. How eminently deserved it was we and the world can attest.The love and the devotion of his political friends were cheering and grateful to his heart, and were acknowledged in all his life—were recognized even to his death.The contest in the senate chamber or the forum were rewarded with success achieved, and the great victor could enjoy the ovation which partial friendship or the gratitude of the benefit prepared. But the triumph of his life was no party achievement. It was not in the applause which admiring friends and defeated antagonists offered to his measureless success, that he found the reward of his labors, and comprehended the extent of his mission.It was only when friends and antagonists paused in their contestsappalled at the public difficulties and national dangers which had been accumulating, unseen and unregarded; it was only when the nation itself felt the danger, and acknowledged the inefficacy of party action as a remedy, that Henry Clay calculated the full extent of his powers, and enjoyed the reward of their saving exercise. Then, sir, you saw, and I saw, party designations dropped, and party allegiance disavowed, and anxious patriots, of all localities and name, turn toward the country’s benefactor as the man for the terrible exigencies of the hour; and the sick chamber of Henry Clay became the Delphos whence were given out the oracles that presented the means and the measures of our Union’s safety. There, sir, and not in the high places of the country, were the labors and sacrifices of half a century to be rewarded and closed. With his right yet in that senate which he had entered the youngest, and lingered still the eldest member, he felt that his work was done, and the object of his life accomplished. Every cloud that had dimmed the noonday lustre had been dissipated; and the retiring orb, which sunk from the sight of the nation in fullness and in beauty, will yet pour up the horizon a posthumous glory that shall tell of the splendor and greatness of the luminary that has passed away.Mr.BAYLY, of Virginia.—Mr.Speaker: Although I have been all my life a political opponent ofMr.Clay, yet from my boyhood I have been upon terms of personal friendship with him. More than twenty years ago, I was introduced to him by my father, who was his personal friend. From that time to this, there has existed between us as great personal intimacy as the disparity in our years and our political difference would justify. After I became a member of this house, and upon his return to the senate, subsequent to his resignation in 1842, the warm regard upon his part for the daughter of a devoted friend of forty years’ standing, made him a constant visitor at my house, and frequently a guest at my table. These circumstances make it proper that, upon this occasion, I should pay this last tribute to his memory. I not only knew him well as a statesman, but I knew him better in most unreserved social intercourse. The most happy circumstance, as I esteem it, of my political life has been, that I have thus known each of our great congressional triumvirate.I, sir, never knew a man of higher qualities thanMr.Clay. His very faults originated in high qualities. With as great self-possession, with greater self-reliance than any man I ever knew, he possessed moral and physical courage to as high a degree as any man who ever lived. Confident in his own judgment, never doubting as to his own course, fearing no obstacle that might lie in his way, it was almost impossible that he should not have been imperious in his character. Never doubting himself as to what, in his opinion, duty and patriotism required at his hands, it was natural that he should sometimes have been impatient with those moredoubting and timid than himself. His were qualities to have made a great general, as they were qualities that did make him a great statesman, and these qualities were so obvious, that during the darkest period of our late war with Great Britain,Mr.Madison had determined, at one time, to make him general-in-chief of the American army.Sir, it is but a short time since the American congress buried the first one that went to the grave of that great triumvirate. We are now called upon to bury another. The third, thank God! still lives, and long may he live to enlighten his countrymen by his wisdom, and set them the example of his exalted patriotism. Sir, in the lives and characters of these great men, there is much resembling those of the great triumvirate of the British Parliament. It differs principally in this: Burke preceded Fox and Pitt to the tomb. Webster survives Clay and Calhoun. When Fox and Pitt died, they left no peer behind them. Webster still lives, now that Calhoun and Clay are dead, the unrivalled statesman of his country. Like Fox and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun lived in troubled times. Like Fox and Pitt, they were each of them the leader of rival parties. Like Fox and Pitt they were idolized by their respective friends. Like Fox and Pitt, they died about the same time, and in the public service; and, as has been said of Fox and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun died with ‘their harness upon them.’ Like Fox and Pitt—‘With more than mortal powers endow’d,How high they soared above the crowd!Theirs was no common party race,Jostling by dark intrigue for place—Like fabled gods their mighty warShook realms and nations in its jar.Beneath each banner proud to standLook’d up the noblest of the land.Here let their discord with them die.Speak not for those a separate doom;Whom fate made brothers in the tomb;But search the land of living men,Where wilt thou find their like again!’Mr.VENABLEsaid:Mr.Speaker, I trust that I shall be pardoned for adding a few words upon this sad occasion. The life of the illustrious statesman, which has just terminated, is so interwoven with our history, and the lustre of his great name so profusely shed over its pages, that simple admiration of his high qualities might well be my excuse. But it is a sacred privilege to draw near; to contemplate the end of the great and the good. It is profitable as well as purifying to look upon and realize the office of death in removing all that can excite jealousy or produce distrust, and to gaze upon the virtues which, like jewels, have survived his powers of destruction. The light which radiates from the life of a great and patriotic statesman is often dimmed by the mists which partyconflicts throw around it. But the blast which strikes him down purifies the atmosphere which surrounded him in life, and it shines forth in bright examples and well-earned renown. It is then that we witness the sincere acknowledgment of gratitude by a people, who, having enjoyed the benefits arising from the services of an eminent statesman, embalm his name in their memory and hearts. We should cherish such recollections, as well from patriotism as self-respect. Ours, sir, is now the duty, in the midst of sadness, in this high place, in the face of our republic, and before the world, to pay this tribute by acknowledging the merits of our colleague, whose name has ornamented the journals of congress for near half a century. Few, very few, have ever combined the high intellectual powers and distinguished gifts of this illustrious senator. Cast in the finest mould by nature, he more than fulfilled the anticipations which were indulged by those who looked to a distinguished career as the certain result of that zealous pursuit of fame and usefulness upon which he entered in early life. Of the incidents of that life it is unnecessary for me to speak—they are as familiar as household words, and must be equally familiar to those who come after us. But it is useful to refresh memory, by recurrence to some of the events which marked his career. We know, sir, that there is much that is in common in the histories of distinguished men. The elements which constitute greatness are the same in all times; hence those who have been the admiration of their generations present in their lives much which, although really great, ceases to be remarkable, because illustrated by such numerous examples—‘But there are deeds which should not pass away,And names that must not wither.’Of such deeds the life of Henry Clay affords many and bright examples. His own name, and those with whom he associated, shall live with a freshness which time cannot impair, and shine with a brightness which passing years cannot dim. His advent into public life was as remarkable for the circumstances as it was brilliant in its effect. It was at a time when genius and learning, statesmanship and eloquence, made the American Congress the most august body in the world. He was the contemporary of a race of statesmen, some of whom—then administering the government, and others retiring and retired from office—presented an array of ability unsurpassed in our history. The elder Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Gallatin, Clinton, and Monroe, stood before the republic in the maturity of their fame; while Calhoun, John Quincy Adams, Lowndes, Randolph, Crawford, Gaston, and Cheves, with a host of others, rose a bright galaxy upon our horizon. He who won his spurs in such a field earned his knighthood. Distinction amid such competition was true renown—‘The fame which a man wins for himself is best—That he may call his own.’It was such a fame that he made for himself in that most eventful era in our history. To me, sir, the recollection of that day, and the events which distinguish it, is filled with an overpowering interest. I never can forget my enthusiastic admiration of the boldness, the eloquence, and the patriotism of Henry Clay during the war of 1812. In the bright array of talent which adorned the congress of the United States; in the conflict growing out of the political events of that time; in the struggles of party, and amid the gloom and disasters which depressed the spirits of most men, and well nigh paralyzed the energies of the administration, his cheerful face, high bearing, commanding eloquence and iron will, gave strength and consistency to those elements which finally gave not only success but glory to the country. When dark clouds hovered over us, and there was little to save from despair, the country looked with hope to Clay and Calhoun, to Lowndes, and Crawford, and Cheves, and looked not in vain. The unbending will, the unshaken nerve, and the burning eloquence of Henry Clay, did as much to command confidence and sustain hope as even the news of our first victory after a succession of defeats. Those great names are now canonized in history; he, too, has passed to join them on its pages. Associated in his long political life with the illustrious Calhoun, he survived him but two years. Many of us heard his eloquent tribute to his memory in the senate chamber on the annunciation of his death. And we this day unite in a similar manifestation of reverential regard to him whose voice shall never more charm the ear, whose burning thoughts, borne on that medium, shall no more move the hearts of listening assemblies.In the midst of the highest specimens of our race, he was always an equal;he was a man among men. Bold, skillful, and determined, he gave character to the party which acknowledged him as a leader; impressed his opinions upon their minds, and an attachment to himself upon their hearts. No man, sir, can do this without being eminently great. Whoever attains this position must first overcome the aspirations of antagonist ambition, quiet the clamors of rivalry, hold in check the murmurs of jealousy, and overcome the instincts of vanity and self-love in the masses thus subdued to his control. But few men ever attain it. Very rare are the examples of those whose plastic touch forms the minds and directs the purposes of a great political party. This infallible indication of superiority belonged toMr.Clay. He has exercised that control during a long life; and now through our broad land the tidings of his death, borne with electric speed, have opened the fountains of sorrow. Every city, town, village, and hamlet will be clothed with mourning; along our extended coast, the commercial and military marine, with flags drooping at half-mast, own the bereavement; state-houses draped in black proclaim the extinguishment of one of the great lights of senates; and minute-guns sound his requiem.Sir, during the last five years I have seen the venerable JohnQuincy Adams, John C. Calhoun, and Henry Clay pass from among us, the legislators of our country. The race of giants who ‘were on the earth in those days’ is well-nigh gone. Despite their skill, their genius, their might, they have sunk under the stroke of time. They were our admiration and our glory; a few linger with us, the monuments of former greatness, the beacon-lights of a past age. The death of Henry Clay cannot fail to suggest melancholy associations to each member of this house. These walls have rëechoed the silvery tones of his bewitching voice; listening assemblies have hung upon his lips. The chair which you fill has been graced by his presence, while his commanding person and unequalled parliamentary attainments inspired all with deference and respect. Chosen by acclamation because of his high qualifications, he sustained himself before the house and the country. In his supremacy with his party, and the uninterrupted confidence which he enjoyed to the day of his death, he seems to have almost discredited the truth of those lines of the poet Laberius—‘Non passunt primi esse omnes omni in tempore,Summum ad gradum cum claritatis veneris,Consistes ægre, et citius, quam ascendas, cades.’If not at all times first, he stood equal with the foremost, and a brilliant, rapid rise knew no decline in the confidence of those whose just appreciation of his merits had confirmed his title to renown.The citizens of other countries will deplore his death; the struggling patriots who on our own continent were cheered by his sympathies, and who must have perceived his influence in the recognition of their independence by this government, have taught their children to venerate his name. He won the civic crown, and the demonstrations of this hour own the worth of civil services.It was with great satisfaction that I heard my friend from Kentucky, [Mr.Breckenridge,] the immediate representative ofMr.Clay, detail a conversation which disclosed the feelings of that eminent man in relation to his Christian hope. These,Mr.Speaker, are rich memorials, precious reminiscences. A Christian statesman is the glory of his age, and his memory will be glorious in after times; it reflects a light coming from a source which clouds cannot dim nor shadows obscure. It was my privilege, also, a short time since, to converse with this distinguished statesman on the subject of his hopes in a future state. Feeling a deep interest, I asked him frankly what were his hopes in the world to which he was evidently hastening. ‘I am pleased,’ said he, ‘my friend, that you have introduced the subject. Conscious that I must die very soon, I love to meditate upon the most important of all interests. I love to converse and to hear conversations about them. The vanity of the world, and its insufficiency to satisfy the soul of man, has long been a settled conviction of my mind. Man’s inability to secure by his own merits the approbation of God, I feel to be true. I trust in theatonement of the Saviour of men as the ground of my acceptance and my hope of salvation. My faith is feeble, but I hope in His mercy and trust in his promises.’ To such declarations I listened with the deepest interest, as I did on another occasion, when he said: ‘I am willing to abide the will of Heaven, and ready to die when that will shall determine it.’He is gone, sir, professing the humble hope of a Christian. That hope, alone, sir, can sustain you, or any of us. There is one lonely and crushed heart that has bowed before this afflictive event. Far away, at Ashland, a widowed wife, prevented by feeble health from attending his bedside and soothing his painful hours, she has thought even the electric speed of the intelligence daily transmitted of his condition too slow for her aching, anxious bosom. She will find consolation in his Christian submission, and will draw all of comfort that such a case admits from the assurance that nothing was neglected by the kindness of friends which could supply her place. May the guardianship of the widow’s God be her protection, and His consolations her support!‘All cannot be at all times firstTo reach the topmost step of glory; to stand there,More hard. Even swifter than we mount, we fall.’Mr.HAVENsaid:Mr.Speaker, Representing a constituency distinguished for the constancy of its devotion to the political principles ofMr.Clay, and for its unwavering attachment to his fortunes and his person—sympathizing deeply with those whose more intimate personal relations with him have made them feel most profoundly this general bereavement—I desire to say a few words of him, since he has fallen amongst us and been taken to his rest.After the finished eulogies which have been so eloquently pronounced by the honorable gentlemen who have preceded me, I will avoid a course of remark which might otherwise be deemed a repetition, and refer to the bearing of some of the acts of the deceased upon the interests and destinies of my own state. The influence of his public life, and of hispurely American character, the benefits of his wise forecast, and the results of his efforts for wholesome and rational progress, are no where more strongly exhibited than in the state of New York.Our appreciation of his anxiety for the general diffusion of knowledge and education, is manifested in our twelve thousand public libraries, our equal number of common schools, and a large number of higher institutions of learning, all of which draw portions of their support from the share of the proceeds of the public lands, which his wise policy gave to our state. Our whole people are thus constantly reminded of their great obligations to the statesman whose death now afflicts the nation with sorrow. Our extensive public works, attest our conviction of the utility and importance of the system of internal improvements he so ably advocated; and their valueand productiveness, afford a most striking evidence of the soundness and wisdom of his policy. Nor has his influence been less sensibly felt in our agriculture, commerce, and manufactures. Every department of human industry acknowledges his fostering care; and the people of New York are, in no small measure, indebted to his statesmanship for the wealth, comfort, contentment, and happiness so widely and generally diffused throughout the state.Well may New York cherish his memory and acknowledge with gratitude the benefits that his life has conferred. That memory will be cherished throughout the republic.When internal discord and sectional strife have threatened the integrity of the Union, his just weight of character, his large experience, his powers of conciliation and acknowledged patriotism, have enabled him to pacify the angry passions of his countrymen, and to raise the bow of promise and of hope upon the clouds which have darkened the political horizon.He has passed from amongst us, ripe in wisdom and pure in character—full of years and full of honors—he has breathed his last amidst the blessings of a united and grateful nation.He was, in my judgment, particularly fortunate in the time of his death.He lived to see his country, guided by his wisdom, come once again unhurt out of trying sectional difficulties and domestic strife; and he has closed his eyes in death upon that country, whilst it is in the enjoyment of profound peace, busy with industry, and blessed with unequalled prosperity.It can fall to the lot of but few to die amidst so warm a gratitude flowing from the hearts of their countrymen; and none can leave a brighter example or a more enduring fame.Mr.BROOKS, of New York, said:Mr.Speaker, I rise to add my humble tribute to the memory of a great and good man, now to be gathered to his fathers. I speak for, and from, a community in whose heart is enshrined the name of him whom we mourn; who, however much Virginia, the land of his birth, or Kentucky, the land of his adoption, may love him, is, if possible, loved where I live yet more. If idolatry had been Christian, or allowable even, he would have been our idol. But as it is, for a quarter of a century now, his bust, his portrait, or some medal, has been one of our household gods, gracing not alone the saloons and the halls of wealth, but the humblest room or workshop of almost every mechanic or laborer. Proud monuments of his policy as a statesman, as my colleague has justly said, are all about us; and we owe to him, in a good degree, our growth, our greatness, our prosperity and happiness as a people.The great field of Henry Clay,Mr.Speaker, has been here, on the floor of this house, and in the other wing of the capitol. He had held other posts of higher nominal distinction, but they are all eclipsed by the brilliancy of his career as a congressman. What of gloryhe has acquired, or what most endear him to his countrymen, have been won here, amid these pillars, under these domes of the capitol.‘Si quæris monumentum, circumspice.’The mind ofMr.Clay has been the governing mind of the country, more or less, ever since he has been on the stage of public action. In a minority or majority—more, perhaps, even in a minority than in a majority—he seems to have had some commission, divine as it were, to persuade, to convince, to govern other men. His patriotism, his grand conceptions, have created measures which the secret fascination of his manners in-doors, or his irresistible eloquence without, have enabled him almost always to frame into laws. Adverse administrations have yielded to him, or been borne down by him, or he has taken them captive as a leader, and carried the country and congress with him. This power he has wielded now for nearly half a century, with nothing but reason and eloquence to back him. And yet when he came here, years ago, he came from a then frontier state of this Union, heralded by no loud trumpet of fame, nay, quite unknown! unfortified even by any position, social or pecuniary;—to quote his own words, ‘my only heritage has been infancy, indigence, and ignorance.’In these days,Mr.Speaker, when mere civil qualifications for high public places—when long civil training and practical statesmanship are held subordinate—a most discouraging prospect would be rising up before our young men, were it not for some such names as Lowndes, Crawford, Clinton, Gaston, Calhoun, Clay, and the like, scattered along the pages of our history, as stars or constellations along a cloudless sky. They shine forth, and show us, that if the chief magistracy cannot be won by such qualifications, a memory among men can be—a hold upon posterity, as firm, as lustrous—nay, more imperishable. In the Capitolium of Rome there are long rows of marble slabs, on which are recorded the names of the Roman consuls; but the eye wanders over this wilderness of letters but to light up and kindle upon some Cato or Cicero. To win such fame, thus unsullied, asMr.Clay has won, is worth any man’s ambition. And how was it won? By courting the shifting gales of popularity? No, never! By truckling to the schemes, the arts, and seductions of the demagogue? Never, never! His hardest battles as a public man—his greatest, most illustrious achievements—have been against, at first, an adverse public opinion. To gain an imperishable name, he has often braved the perishable popularity of the moment. That sort of courage which, in a public man, I deem the highest of all courage—that sort of courage most necessary under our form of government to guide as well as to save a state—Mr.Clay was possessed of more than any public man I ever knew. Physical courage, valuable, indispensable though it be, we share but with the brute; but moral courage, to dare to do right amid all temptations to do wrong,is, as it seems to me, the very highest species, the noblest heroism, under institutions like ours. ‘I had rather be right than be President,’ wasMr.Clay’s sublime reply when pressed to refrain from some measure that would mar his popularity. These lofty words were the clue of his whole character—the secret of his hold upon the heads as well as hearts of the American people; nay, the key of his immortality.Another of the keys,Mr.Speaker, of his universal reputation was his intense nationality. When taunted but recently, almost within our hearing, as it were, on the floor of the senate by a southern senator, as being a southern man unfaithful to the south—his indignant but patriotic exclamation was, ‘I know nosouth, no north, no east, no west.’ The country, thewholecountry, loved, reverenced, adored such a man. The soil of Virginia may be his birth-place, the sod of Kentucky will cover his grave—what was mortal they claim—but the spirit, the soul, the genius of the mighty man, the immortal part, these belong to his country and to his God.Mr.FAULKNER, of Virginia, said: Representing, in part, the state which gave birth to that distinguished man whose death has just been announced upon this floor, and having for many years held toward him the most cordial relations of friendship, personal and political, I feel that I should fail to discharge an appropriate duty, if I permitted this occasion to pass by without some expression of the feeling which such an event is so well calculated to elicit. Sir, this intelligence does not fall upon our ears unexpectedly. For months the public mind has been prepared for the great national loss which we now deplore; and yet, as familiar as the daily and hourly reports have made us with his hopeless condition and gradual decline, and although‘Like a shadow thrownSoftly and sweetly from a passing cloud,Death fell upon him,’it is impossible that a light of such surpassing splendor should be, as it is now, for ever extinguished from our view, without producing a shock, deeply and painfully felt, to the utmost limits of this great republic. Sir, we all feel that a mighty intellect has passed from among us; but, happily for this country, happily for mankind, not until it had accomplished to some extent the exalted mission for which it had been sent upon this earth; not until it had reached the full maturity of its usefulness and power; not until it had shed a bright and radiant lustre over our national renown; not until time had enabled it to bequeath the rich treasures of its thought and experience for the guidance and instruction of the present and of succeeding generations.Sir, it is difficult,—it is impossible,—within the limit allowed for remarks upon occasions of this kind, to do justice to a great historical character like Henry Clay. He was one of that class of menwhom Scaliger designates ashomines centenarii—men that appear upon the earth but once in a century. His fame is the growth of years, and it would require time to unfold the elements which have combined to impart to it so much of stability and grandeur. Volumes have already been written, and volumes will continue to be written, to record those eminent and distinguished public services which have placed him in the front rank of American statesmen and patriots. The highest talent, stimulated by a fervid and patriotic enthusiasm, has already and will continue to exhaust its powers to portray those striking and generous incidents of his life,—those shining and captivating qualities of his heart, which have made him one of the most beloved, as he was one of the most admired, of men; and yet the subject itself will remain as fresh and exhaustless as if hundreds of the best intellects of the land had not quaffed the inspiration of their genius from the ever-gushing and overflowing fountains of his fame. It could not be that a reputation so grand and colossal as that which attaches to the name of Henry Clay could rest for its base upon any single virtue, however striking; nor upon any single act, no matter how marked or distinguished. Such a reputation as he has left behind him, could only be the result of a long life of illustrious public service. And such in truth it was. For nearly half a century he has been a prominent actor in all the stirring and eventful scenes of American history, fashioning and moulding many of the most important measures of public policy by his bold and sagacious mind, and arresting others by his unconquerable energy and resistless force of eloquence. And however much the members of this body may differ in opinion as to the wisdom of many of his views of national domestic policy, there is not one upon this floor—no, sir, not one in this nation—who will deny to him frankness and directness as a public man; a genius for statesmanship of the highest order; extraordinary capacities for public usefulness, and an ardent and elevated patriotism, without stain and without reproach.In referring to a career of public service so varied and extended as that ofMr.Clay, and to a character so rich in every great and manly virtue, it is only possible to glance at a few of the most prominent of those points of his personal history, which have given to him so distinguished a place in the affections of his countrymen.In the whole character ofMr.Clay, in all that attached or belonged to it, you find nothing that is not essentially American. Born in the darkest period of our revolutionary struggle; reared from infancy to manhood among those great minds which gave the first impulse to that mighty movement, he early imbibed and sedulously cherished those great principles of civil and political liberty, which he so brilliantly illustrated in his subsequent life, and which has made his name a watchword of hope and consolation to the oppressed of all the earth. In his intellectual training he was the pure creation of our own republican soil. Few, if any, allusions are to be seen in his speeches or writings to ancient or modern literature, or to thethoughts and ideas of other men. His country, its institutions, its policy, its interests, its destiny, form the exclusive topics of those eloquent harangues, which, while they are destitute of the elaborate finish, have all the ardor and intensity of thought, the earnestness of purpose, the cogency of reasoning, the vehemence of style, and the burning patriotism which mark the productions of the great Athenian orator.One of the most distinguishing characteristics ofMr.Clay as a public man was his loyalty to truth and to the honest convictions of his own mind. He deceived no man: he would not permit his own heart to be deceived by any of those seductive influences which too often warp the judgment of men in public station. He never paused to consider how far any step which he was about to take would lead to his own personal advancement; he never calculated what he might lose or what he might gain by his advocacy of, or his opposition to, any particular measure. His single inquiry was: Is it right? Is it in accordance with the constitution of the land? Will it redound to the permanent welfare of the country? When satisfied upon these points, his determination was fixed; his purpose was immovable. ‘I would rather be right than be President,’ was the expression of his genuine feelings, and the principle by which he was controlled in his public career—a saying worthy of immortality, and proper to be inscribed upon the heart of every young man in this republic. And yet, sir, with all of that personal and moral intrepidity which so eminently marked the character ofMr.Clay; with his well-known inflexibility of purpose and unyielding resolution, such was the genuine sincerity of his patriotism, and such his thorough comprehension of those principles of compromise, upon which the whole structure of our government was founded, that no one was more prompt to relax the rigor of his policy the moment he perceived that it was calculated to disturb the harmony of the states, or to endanger in any degree the stability of the government. With him the love of this Union was a passion—an absorbing sentiment—which gave color to every act of his public life. It triumphed over party; it triumphed over policy; it subdued the natural fierceness and haughtiness of his temper, and brought him into the most kindly and cordial relations with those who, upon all other questions, were deeply and bitterly opposed to him. It has been asserted, sir, upon high medical authority, and doubtless with truth, that his life was in all probability shortened ten years by the arduous and extraordinary labors which he assumed at the memorable session of 1850. If so, he has added the crowning glory of theMARTYRto the spotless fame of thePATRIOT; and we may well hope that a great national pacification, purchased at such a sacrifice, will long continue to cement the bonds of this now happy and prosperous Union.Mr.Clay possessed, in an eminent degree, the qualities of a great popular leader; and history, I will assume to say, affords no example in any republic, ancient or modern, of any individual that so fearlesslycarried out the convictions of his own judgment, and so sparingly flattered the prejudices of popular feeling, who, for so long a period, exercised the same controlling influence over the public mind. Earnest in whatever measure he sustained, fearless in attack,—dexterous in defence,—abounding in intellectual resources,—eloquent in debate,—of inflexible purpose, and with a ‘courage never to submit or yield,’ no man ever lived with higher qualifications to rally a desponding party, or to lead an embattled host to victory. That he never attained the highest post of honorable ambition in this country is not to be ascribed to any want of capacity as a popular leader, nor to the absence of those qualities which attract the fidelity and devotion of ‘troops’ of admiring friends. It was the fortune of Napoleon, at a critical period of his destiny, to be brought into collision with the star of Wellington; and it was the fortune of Henry Clay to have encountered, in his political orbit, another great and original mind, gifted with equal power for commanding success, and blessed with more fortunate elements, concurring at the time, of securing popular favor. The struggle was such as might have been anticipated from the collision of two such fierce and powerful rivals. For near a quarter of a century this great republic has been convulsed to its centre by the divisions which have sprung from their respective opinions, policy, and personal destinies; and even now, when they have both been removed to a higher and a better sphere of existence, and when every unkind feeling has been quenched in the triumphs of the grave, this country still feels, and for years will continue to feel, the influence of those agitations to which their powerful and impressive characters gave impulse.But I must pause. If I were to attempt to present all the aspects in which the character of this illustrious man will challenge the applause of history, I should fatigue the house and violate the just limit allowed for such remarks.I cannot, however, conclude, sir, without making some more special allusion toMr.Clay, as a native of that state which I have the honor in part to represent upon this floor. We are all proud, and very properly proud, of the distinguished men to whom our respective states have given birth. It is a just and laudable emulation, and one, in a confederated government like ours, proper to be encouraged. And while men likeMr.Clay very rapidly rise above the confined limits of a state reputation, and acquire a national fame, in which all claim and all have an equal interest, still there is a propriety and fitness in preserving the relation between the individual and his state. Virginia has given birth to a large number of men who have by their distinguished talents and services impressed their names upon the hearts and memories of their countrymen; but certainly, since the colonial era, she has given birth to no man who, in the massive and gigantic proportions of his character, and in the splendor of his native endowments, can be compared to Henry Clay. At an early age, he emigrated from his native state, and found ahome in Kentucky. In a speech which he delivered in the senate of the United States, in February, 1842—and which I well remember—upon the occasion of his resigning his seat in that body, he expressed the wish that, when that event should occur which has now clothed this city in mourning and filled the nation with grief, his ‘earthly remains should be laid under the green sod of Kentucky, with those of her gallant and patriotic sons.’Sir, however gratifying it might be to us that his remains should be transferred to his native soil, to there mingle with the ashes of Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Lee, and Henry, we cannot complain of the very natural preference which he has himself expressed. If Virginia did give him birth, Kentucky has nourished him in his manhood—has freely lavished upon him her highest honors—has shielded him from harm when the clouds of calumny and detraction gathered heavily and loweringly about him, and she has watched over his fame with the tenderness and zeal of a mother. Sir, it is not to be wondered that he should have expressed the wish he did, to be laid by the side of her gallant and patriotic sons. Happy Kentucky! Happy in having an adopted son so worthy of her highest honors. Happy, in the unshaken fidelity and loyalty with which, for near half a century, those honors have been so steadfastly and gracefully accorded to him.Sir, whilst Virginia, in the exercise of her own proper judgment, has differed fromMr.Clay in some of his views of national policy, she has never, at any period of his public career, failed to regard him with pride, as one of her most distinguished sons; to honor the purity and the manliness of his character, and to award to him the high credit of an honest and sincere devotion to his country’s welfare. And now, sir, that death has arrested for ever the pulsations of that mighty heart, and sealed in eternal silence those eloquent lips upon whose accents thousands have so often hung in rapture, I shall stand justified in saying, that a wail of lamentation will be heard from her people—her whole people—reverberating through her mountains and valleys, as deep, as genuine, and as sincere as that which, I know, will swell the noble hearts and the heaving bosoms of the people of his own cherished and beloved Kentucky.Sir, as I walked to the capitol this morning, every object which attracted my eye, admonished me that a nation’s benefactor had departed from amongst us. He is gone! Henry Clay, the idol of his friends, the ornament of the senate chamber, the pride of his country; he whose presence gathered crowds of his admiring fellow-men around him, as if he had been one descended from above, has passed for ever from our view.
‘His life was gentle; and the elementsSo mixed in him, that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world,This was a man!’
‘His life was gentle; and the elementsSo mixed in him, that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world,This was a man!’
‘His life was gentle; and the elements
So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world,This was a man!’
But who can estimate his country’s loss? What tongue portray the desolation which in this hour throughout this broad land hangs like a gloomy pall over his grief-stricken countrymen? How poorly can words like mine translate the eloquence of a whole people’s grief for a patriot’s death. For a nation’s loss let a nation mourn. For that stupendous calamity to our country and mankind, be the heavens hung with black; let the wailing elements chant his dirge, and the universal heart of man throb with one common pang of grief and anguish.
Mr.CASKIEsaid:Mr.Speaker, Unwell as I am, I must try to lay a single laurel leaf in that open coffin, which is already garlanded by the eloquent tributes to the illustrious departed, which have been heard in this now solemn hall; for I come, sir, from the district of his birth. I represent on this floor that old Hanover so proud of her Henrys—her Patrick Henry and her Henry Clay. I speak for a people among whom he has always had as earnest and devoted friends as were ever the grace and glory of a patriot and statesman.
I shall attempt no sketch of his life. That you have had from other and abler hands than mine. Till yesterday that life was, of his own free gift, the property of his country; to-day it belongs to her history. It is known to all, and will not be forgotten. Constant, stern opponent of his political school as has been my state, I say for her, that no where in this broad land are his great qualities more admired, or his death more mourned, than in Virginia. Well may this be so; for she is his mother, and he was her son.
Mr.Speaker, when I remember the party strifes in which he wasso much mingled, and through which we all more or less have passed, and then survey this scene, and think how far, as the lightning has borne the news that he is gone, half-masted flags are drooping and church-bells are tolling, and men are sorrowing, I can but feel that it is good for man to die. For when death enters, O! how the unkindnesses, and jealousies, and rivalries of life do vanish, and how like incense from an altar do peace, and friendship, and all the sweet charities of our nature, rise around the corpse which was once a man! And of a truth,Mr.Speaker, never was more of veritable noblemanhoodcased in mortal mould than was found in him to whose memory this brief and humble, but true and heartfelt tribute is paid. But his eloquent voice is hushed, his high heart is stilled. ‘Like a shock of corn fully ripe, he has been gathered to his fathers.’ With more than three score years and ten upon him, and honors clustered thick about him, in the full possession of unclouded intellect, and all the consolations of Christianity, he has met the fate which is evitable by none. Lamented by all his countrymen, his name is bright on fame’s immortal roll. He has finished his course, and he has his crown. What more fruit can life bear? What can it give that Henry Clay has not gained?
Then,Mr.Speaker, around his tomb should be heard not only the dirge that wails his loss, but the jubilant anthem which sounds that on the world’s battle-field another victory has been won—anotherincontestable greatnessachieved.
Mr.CHANDLER, of Pennsylvania, said:Mr.Speaker, It would seem as if the solemn invocation of the honorable gentleman from Kentucky(Mr.EWING)was receiving an early answer, and that the heavens are hung in black, and the wailing elements are singing the funeral dirge of Henry Clay. Amid this elemental gloom, and the distress which pervades the nation at the death of Henry Clay, private grief should not obtrude itself upon notice, nor personal anguish seek for utterance. Silence is the best exponent of individual sorrow, and the heart that knoweth its own bitterness shrinks from an exposition of its affliction.
Could I have consulted my own feelings on the event which occupies the attention of the house at the present moment, I should even have forborne attendance here, and in the solitude and silence of my chamber have mused upon the terrible lesson which has been administered to the people and the nation. But I represent a constituency who justly pride themselves upon the unwavering attachment they have ever felt and manifested to Henry Clay—a constant, pervading, hereditary love. The son has taken up the father’s affection, and amid all the professions of political attachments to others, whom the accidents of party have made prominent, and the success of party has made powerful, true to his own instincts, and true to the sanctified legacy of his father, he has placed the name of Henry Clay forward and preëminent as the exponent of what isgreatest in statesmanship and purest in patriotism. And even, sir, when party fealty caused other attachments to be avowed for party uses, the preference was limited to the occupancy of office, and superiority admitted for Clay in all that is reckoned above party estimation.
Nor ought I to forbear to add that, as the senior member of the delegation which represents my commonwealth, I am requested to utter the sentiments of the people of Pennsylvania at large, who yield to no portion of this great Union in their appreciation of the talents, their reverence for the lofty patriotism, their admiration of the statesmanship, and hereafter their love of the memory of Henry Clay.
I cannot, therefore, be silent on this occasion without injustice to the affections of my constituency, even though I painfully feel how inadequate to the reverence and love my people have toward that statesman must be all that I have to utter on this mournful occasion.
I know not,Mr.Chairman, where now the nation is to find the men she needs in peril; either other calls than those of politics are holding in abeyance the talents which the nation may need, or else a generation is to pass undistinguished by the greatness of our statesmen. Of the noble minds that have swayed the senate, one yet survives in the maturity of powerful intellect, carefully disciplined and nobly exercised. May He who has thus far blessed our nation, spare to her and the world that of which the world must always envy our country the possession! But my business is with the dead.
The biography of Henry Clay, from his childhood upward, is too familiar to every American for me to trespass on the time of this house by a reference directly thereto; and the honorable gentlemen who have preceded me have, with affectionate hand and appropriate delicacy, swept away the dust which nearly fourscore years have scattered over a part of the record, and have made our pride greater in his life, and our grief more poignant at his death, by showing some of those passages which attract respect to our republican institutions, of whichMr.Clay’s whole life was the able support and the most successful illustration.
It would, then, be a work of supererogation for me to renew that effort, though inquiry into the life and conduct of Henry Clay would present new themes for private eulogy, new grounds for public gratitude.
How rare is it,Mr.Speaker, that the great man, living, can with confidence rely on extensive personal friendship, or dying, think to awaken a sentiment of regret beyond that which includes the public loss or the disappointment of individual hopes. Yet, sir, the message which yesterday went forth from this city that Henry Clay was dead, brought sorrow—personal, private, special sorrow—to the hearts of thousands; each of whom felt that from his own love for, his long attachment to, his disinterested hopes in Henry Clay, he had a particular sorrow to cherish and express, which weighed upon his heart, separate from the sense of national loss.
No man,Mr.Speaker, in our nation had the art so to identify himself with public measures of the most momentous character, and to maintain at the same time almost universal affection, like that great statesman. His business, from his boyhood, was with national concerns, and he dealt with them as with familiar things. And yet his sympathies were with individual interests, enterprises, affections, joys, and sorrows; and while every patriot bowed in humble deference to his lofty attainments and heartfelt gratitude for his national services, almost every man in this vast republic knew that the great statesman was, in feeling and experience, identified with his own position. Hence the universal love of the people; hence their enthusiasm in all times for his fame. Hence, sir, their present grief.
Many other public men of our country have distinguished themselves and brought honor to the nation by superiority in some particular branch of public service, but it seems to have been the gift ofMr.Clay to have acquired peculiar eminence in every path of duty he was called to tread. In the earnestness of debate, which great public interests and distinguished opposing talents excited in this house, he had no superior in energy, force, or effect. Yet, as the presiding officer, by blandness of language and firmness of purpose, he soothed and made orderly; and thus, by official dignity, he commanded the respect which energy had secured to him on the floor.
Wherever official or social duties demanded an exercise of his power, there was a preëminence which seemed prescriptively his own. In the lofty debate of the senate and the stirring harangues to popular assemblages, he was the orator of the nation and of the people; and the sincerity of purpose and the unity of design evinced in all he said or did, fixed in the public mind a confidence strong and expansive as the affections he had won.
Year after year, sir, has Henry Clay been achieving the work of the mission with which he was intrusted; and it was only when the warmest wishes of his warmest friends were disappointed, that he entered on the fruition of a patriot’s highest hopes, and stood in the full enjoyment of that admiration and confidence which nothing but the antagonism of party relations could have divided.
How rich that enjoyment must have been it is only for us to imagine. How eminently deserved it was we and the world can attest.
The love and the devotion of his political friends were cheering and grateful to his heart, and were acknowledged in all his life—were recognized even to his death.
The contest in the senate chamber or the forum were rewarded with success achieved, and the great victor could enjoy the ovation which partial friendship or the gratitude of the benefit prepared. But the triumph of his life was no party achievement. It was not in the applause which admiring friends and defeated antagonists offered to his measureless success, that he found the reward of his labors, and comprehended the extent of his mission.
It was only when friends and antagonists paused in their contestsappalled at the public difficulties and national dangers which had been accumulating, unseen and unregarded; it was only when the nation itself felt the danger, and acknowledged the inefficacy of party action as a remedy, that Henry Clay calculated the full extent of his powers, and enjoyed the reward of their saving exercise. Then, sir, you saw, and I saw, party designations dropped, and party allegiance disavowed, and anxious patriots, of all localities and name, turn toward the country’s benefactor as the man for the terrible exigencies of the hour; and the sick chamber of Henry Clay became the Delphos whence were given out the oracles that presented the means and the measures of our Union’s safety. There, sir, and not in the high places of the country, were the labors and sacrifices of half a century to be rewarded and closed. With his right yet in that senate which he had entered the youngest, and lingered still the eldest member, he felt that his work was done, and the object of his life accomplished. Every cloud that had dimmed the noonday lustre had been dissipated; and the retiring orb, which sunk from the sight of the nation in fullness and in beauty, will yet pour up the horizon a posthumous glory that shall tell of the splendor and greatness of the luminary that has passed away.
Mr.BAYLY, of Virginia.—Mr.Speaker: Although I have been all my life a political opponent ofMr.Clay, yet from my boyhood I have been upon terms of personal friendship with him. More than twenty years ago, I was introduced to him by my father, who was his personal friend. From that time to this, there has existed between us as great personal intimacy as the disparity in our years and our political difference would justify. After I became a member of this house, and upon his return to the senate, subsequent to his resignation in 1842, the warm regard upon his part for the daughter of a devoted friend of forty years’ standing, made him a constant visitor at my house, and frequently a guest at my table. These circumstances make it proper that, upon this occasion, I should pay this last tribute to his memory. I not only knew him well as a statesman, but I knew him better in most unreserved social intercourse. The most happy circumstance, as I esteem it, of my political life has been, that I have thus known each of our great congressional triumvirate.
I, sir, never knew a man of higher qualities thanMr.Clay. His very faults originated in high qualities. With as great self-possession, with greater self-reliance than any man I ever knew, he possessed moral and physical courage to as high a degree as any man who ever lived. Confident in his own judgment, never doubting as to his own course, fearing no obstacle that might lie in his way, it was almost impossible that he should not have been imperious in his character. Never doubting himself as to what, in his opinion, duty and patriotism required at his hands, it was natural that he should sometimes have been impatient with those moredoubting and timid than himself. His were qualities to have made a great general, as they were qualities that did make him a great statesman, and these qualities were so obvious, that during the darkest period of our late war with Great Britain,Mr.Madison had determined, at one time, to make him general-in-chief of the American army.
Sir, it is but a short time since the American congress buried the first one that went to the grave of that great triumvirate. We are now called upon to bury another. The third, thank God! still lives, and long may he live to enlighten his countrymen by his wisdom, and set them the example of his exalted patriotism. Sir, in the lives and characters of these great men, there is much resembling those of the great triumvirate of the British Parliament. It differs principally in this: Burke preceded Fox and Pitt to the tomb. Webster survives Clay and Calhoun. When Fox and Pitt died, they left no peer behind them. Webster still lives, now that Calhoun and Clay are dead, the unrivalled statesman of his country. Like Fox and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun lived in troubled times. Like Fox and Pitt, they were each of them the leader of rival parties. Like Fox and Pitt they were idolized by their respective friends. Like Fox and Pitt, they died about the same time, and in the public service; and, as has been said of Fox and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun died with ‘their harness upon them.’ Like Fox and Pitt—
‘With more than mortal powers endow’d,How high they soared above the crowd!Theirs was no common party race,Jostling by dark intrigue for place—Like fabled gods their mighty warShook realms and nations in its jar.Beneath each banner proud to standLook’d up the noblest of the land.Here let their discord with them die.Speak not for those a separate doom;Whom fate made brothers in the tomb;But search the land of living men,Where wilt thou find their like again!’
‘With more than mortal powers endow’d,How high they soared above the crowd!Theirs was no common party race,Jostling by dark intrigue for place—Like fabled gods their mighty warShook realms and nations in its jar.Beneath each banner proud to standLook’d up the noblest of the land.Here let their discord with them die.Speak not for those a separate doom;Whom fate made brothers in the tomb;But search the land of living men,Where wilt thou find their like again!’
‘With more than mortal powers endow’d,
How high they soared above the crowd!
Theirs was no common party race,
Jostling by dark intrigue for place—
Like fabled gods their mighty war
Shook realms and nations in its jar.
Beneath each banner proud to stand
Look’d up the noblest of the land.
Here let their discord with them die.
Speak not for those a separate doom;
Whom fate made brothers in the tomb;
But search the land of living men,
Where wilt thou find their like again!’
Mr.VENABLEsaid:Mr.Speaker, I trust that I shall be pardoned for adding a few words upon this sad occasion. The life of the illustrious statesman, which has just terminated, is so interwoven with our history, and the lustre of his great name so profusely shed over its pages, that simple admiration of his high qualities might well be my excuse. But it is a sacred privilege to draw near; to contemplate the end of the great and the good. It is profitable as well as purifying to look upon and realize the office of death in removing all that can excite jealousy or produce distrust, and to gaze upon the virtues which, like jewels, have survived his powers of destruction. The light which radiates from the life of a great and patriotic statesman is often dimmed by the mists which partyconflicts throw around it. But the blast which strikes him down purifies the atmosphere which surrounded him in life, and it shines forth in bright examples and well-earned renown. It is then that we witness the sincere acknowledgment of gratitude by a people, who, having enjoyed the benefits arising from the services of an eminent statesman, embalm his name in their memory and hearts. We should cherish such recollections, as well from patriotism as self-respect. Ours, sir, is now the duty, in the midst of sadness, in this high place, in the face of our republic, and before the world, to pay this tribute by acknowledging the merits of our colleague, whose name has ornamented the journals of congress for near half a century. Few, very few, have ever combined the high intellectual powers and distinguished gifts of this illustrious senator. Cast in the finest mould by nature, he more than fulfilled the anticipations which were indulged by those who looked to a distinguished career as the certain result of that zealous pursuit of fame and usefulness upon which he entered in early life. Of the incidents of that life it is unnecessary for me to speak—they are as familiar as household words, and must be equally familiar to those who come after us. But it is useful to refresh memory, by recurrence to some of the events which marked his career. We know, sir, that there is much that is in common in the histories of distinguished men. The elements which constitute greatness are the same in all times; hence those who have been the admiration of their generations present in their lives much which, although really great, ceases to be remarkable, because illustrated by such numerous examples—
‘But there are deeds which should not pass away,And names that must not wither.’
‘But there are deeds which should not pass away,And names that must not wither.’
‘But there are deeds which should not pass away,
And names that must not wither.’
Of such deeds the life of Henry Clay affords many and bright examples. His own name, and those with whom he associated, shall live with a freshness which time cannot impair, and shine with a brightness which passing years cannot dim. His advent into public life was as remarkable for the circumstances as it was brilliant in its effect. It was at a time when genius and learning, statesmanship and eloquence, made the American Congress the most august body in the world. He was the contemporary of a race of statesmen, some of whom—then administering the government, and others retiring and retired from office—presented an array of ability unsurpassed in our history. The elder Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Gallatin, Clinton, and Monroe, stood before the republic in the maturity of their fame; while Calhoun, John Quincy Adams, Lowndes, Randolph, Crawford, Gaston, and Cheves, with a host of others, rose a bright galaxy upon our horizon. He who won his spurs in such a field earned his knighthood. Distinction amid such competition was true renown—
‘The fame which a man wins for himself is best—That he may call his own.’
‘The fame which a man wins for himself is best—That he may call his own.’
‘The fame which a man wins for himself is best—
That he may call his own.’
It was such a fame that he made for himself in that most eventful era in our history. To me, sir, the recollection of that day, and the events which distinguish it, is filled with an overpowering interest. I never can forget my enthusiastic admiration of the boldness, the eloquence, and the patriotism of Henry Clay during the war of 1812. In the bright array of talent which adorned the congress of the United States; in the conflict growing out of the political events of that time; in the struggles of party, and amid the gloom and disasters which depressed the spirits of most men, and well nigh paralyzed the energies of the administration, his cheerful face, high bearing, commanding eloquence and iron will, gave strength and consistency to those elements which finally gave not only success but glory to the country. When dark clouds hovered over us, and there was little to save from despair, the country looked with hope to Clay and Calhoun, to Lowndes, and Crawford, and Cheves, and looked not in vain. The unbending will, the unshaken nerve, and the burning eloquence of Henry Clay, did as much to command confidence and sustain hope as even the news of our first victory after a succession of defeats. Those great names are now canonized in history; he, too, has passed to join them on its pages. Associated in his long political life with the illustrious Calhoun, he survived him but two years. Many of us heard his eloquent tribute to his memory in the senate chamber on the annunciation of his death. And we this day unite in a similar manifestation of reverential regard to him whose voice shall never more charm the ear, whose burning thoughts, borne on that medium, shall no more move the hearts of listening assemblies.
In the midst of the highest specimens of our race, he was always an equal;he was a man among men. Bold, skillful, and determined, he gave character to the party which acknowledged him as a leader; impressed his opinions upon their minds, and an attachment to himself upon their hearts. No man, sir, can do this without being eminently great. Whoever attains this position must first overcome the aspirations of antagonist ambition, quiet the clamors of rivalry, hold in check the murmurs of jealousy, and overcome the instincts of vanity and self-love in the masses thus subdued to his control. But few men ever attain it. Very rare are the examples of those whose plastic touch forms the minds and directs the purposes of a great political party. This infallible indication of superiority belonged toMr.Clay. He has exercised that control during a long life; and now through our broad land the tidings of his death, borne with electric speed, have opened the fountains of sorrow. Every city, town, village, and hamlet will be clothed with mourning; along our extended coast, the commercial and military marine, with flags drooping at half-mast, own the bereavement; state-houses draped in black proclaim the extinguishment of one of the great lights of senates; and minute-guns sound his requiem.
Sir, during the last five years I have seen the venerable JohnQuincy Adams, John C. Calhoun, and Henry Clay pass from among us, the legislators of our country. The race of giants who ‘were on the earth in those days’ is well-nigh gone. Despite their skill, their genius, their might, they have sunk under the stroke of time. They were our admiration and our glory; a few linger with us, the monuments of former greatness, the beacon-lights of a past age. The death of Henry Clay cannot fail to suggest melancholy associations to each member of this house. These walls have rëechoed the silvery tones of his bewitching voice; listening assemblies have hung upon his lips. The chair which you fill has been graced by his presence, while his commanding person and unequalled parliamentary attainments inspired all with deference and respect. Chosen by acclamation because of his high qualifications, he sustained himself before the house and the country. In his supremacy with his party, and the uninterrupted confidence which he enjoyed to the day of his death, he seems to have almost discredited the truth of those lines of the poet Laberius—
‘Non passunt primi esse omnes omni in tempore,Summum ad gradum cum claritatis veneris,Consistes ægre, et citius, quam ascendas, cades.’
‘Non passunt primi esse omnes omni in tempore,Summum ad gradum cum claritatis veneris,Consistes ægre, et citius, quam ascendas, cades.’
‘Non passunt primi esse omnes omni in tempore,
Summum ad gradum cum claritatis veneris,
Consistes ægre, et citius, quam ascendas, cades.’
If not at all times first, he stood equal with the foremost, and a brilliant, rapid rise knew no decline in the confidence of those whose just appreciation of his merits had confirmed his title to renown.
The citizens of other countries will deplore his death; the struggling patriots who on our own continent were cheered by his sympathies, and who must have perceived his influence in the recognition of their independence by this government, have taught their children to venerate his name. He won the civic crown, and the demonstrations of this hour own the worth of civil services.
It was with great satisfaction that I heard my friend from Kentucky, [Mr.Breckenridge,] the immediate representative ofMr.Clay, detail a conversation which disclosed the feelings of that eminent man in relation to his Christian hope. These,Mr.Speaker, are rich memorials, precious reminiscences. A Christian statesman is the glory of his age, and his memory will be glorious in after times; it reflects a light coming from a source which clouds cannot dim nor shadows obscure. It was my privilege, also, a short time since, to converse with this distinguished statesman on the subject of his hopes in a future state. Feeling a deep interest, I asked him frankly what were his hopes in the world to which he was evidently hastening. ‘I am pleased,’ said he, ‘my friend, that you have introduced the subject. Conscious that I must die very soon, I love to meditate upon the most important of all interests. I love to converse and to hear conversations about them. The vanity of the world, and its insufficiency to satisfy the soul of man, has long been a settled conviction of my mind. Man’s inability to secure by his own merits the approbation of God, I feel to be true. I trust in theatonement of the Saviour of men as the ground of my acceptance and my hope of salvation. My faith is feeble, but I hope in His mercy and trust in his promises.’ To such declarations I listened with the deepest interest, as I did on another occasion, when he said: ‘I am willing to abide the will of Heaven, and ready to die when that will shall determine it.’
He is gone, sir, professing the humble hope of a Christian. That hope, alone, sir, can sustain you, or any of us. There is one lonely and crushed heart that has bowed before this afflictive event. Far away, at Ashland, a widowed wife, prevented by feeble health from attending his bedside and soothing his painful hours, she has thought even the electric speed of the intelligence daily transmitted of his condition too slow for her aching, anxious bosom. She will find consolation in his Christian submission, and will draw all of comfort that such a case admits from the assurance that nothing was neglected by the kindness of friends which could supply her place. May the guardianship of the widow’s God be her protection, and His consolations her support!
‘All cannot be at all times firstTo reach the topmost step of glory; to stand there,More hard. Even swifter than we mount, we fall.’
‘All cannot be at all times firstTo reach the topmost step of glory; to stand there,More hard. Even swifter than we mount, we fall.’
‘All cannot be at all times first
To reach the topmost step of glory; to stand there,
More hard. Even swifter than we mount, we fall.’
Mr.HAVENsaid:Mr.Speaker, Representing a constituency distinguished for the constancy of its devotion to the political principles ofMr.Clay, and for its unwavering attachment to his fortunes and his person—sympathizing deeply with those whose more intimate personal relations with him have made them feel most profoundly this general bereavement—I desire to say a few words of him, since he has fallen amongst us and been taken to his rest.
After the finished eulogies which have been so eloquently pronounced by the honorable gentlemen who have preceded me, I will avoid a course of remark which might otherwise be deemed a repetition, and refer to the bearing of some of the acts of the deceased upon the interests and destinies of my own state. The influence of his public life, and of hispurely American character, the benefits of his wise forecast, and the results of his efforts for wholesome and rational progress, are no where more strongly exhibited than in the state of New York.
Our appreciation of his anxiety for the general diffusion of knowledge and education, is manifested in our twelve thousand public libraries, our equal number of common schools, and a large number of higher institutions of learning, all of which draw portions of their support from the share of the proceeds of the public lands, which his wise policy gave to our state. Our whole people are thus constantly reminded of their great obligations to the statesman whose death now afflicts the nation with sorrow. Our extensive public works, attest our conviction of the utility and importance of the system of internal improvements he so ably advocated; and their valueand productiveness, afford a most striking evidence of the soundness and wisdom of his policy. Nor has his influence been less sensibly felt in our agriculture, commerce, and manufactures. Every department of human industry acknowledges his fostering care; and the people of New York are, in no small measure, indebted to his statesmanship for the wealth, comfort, contentment, and happiness so widely and generally diffused throughout the state.
Well may New York cherish his memory and acknowledge with gratitude the benefits that his life has conferred. That memory will be cherished throughout the republic.
When internal discord and sectional strife have threatened the integrity of the Union, his just weight of character, his large experience, his powers of conciliation and acknowledged patriotism, have enabled him to pacify the angry passions of his countrymen, and to raise the bow of promise and of hope upon the clouds which have darkened the political horizon.
He has passed from amongst us, ripe in wisdom and pure in character—full of years and full of honors—he has breathed his last amidst the blessings of a united and grateful nation.
He was, in my judgment, particularly fortunate in the time of his death.
He lived to see his country, guided by his wisdom, come once again unhurt out of trying sectional difficulties and domestic strife; and he has closed his eyes in death upon that country, whilst it is in the enjoyment of profound peace, busy with industry, and blessed with unequalled prosperity.
It can fall to the lot of but few to die amidst so warm a gratitude flowing from the hearts of their countrymen; and none can leave a brighter example or a more enduring fame.
Mr.BROOKS, of New York, said:Mr.Speaker, I rise to add my humble tribute to the memory of a great and good man, now to be gathered to his fathers. I speak for, and from, a community in whose heart is enshrined the name of him whom we mourn; who, however much Virginia, the land of his birth, or Kentucky, the land of his adoption, may love him, is, if possible, loved where I live yet more. If idolatry had been Christian, or allowable even, he would have been our idol. But as it is, for a quarter of a century now, his bust, his portrait, or some medal, has been one of our household gods, gracing not alone the saloons and the halls of wealth, but the humblest room or workshop of almost every mechanic or laborer. Proud monuments of his policy as a statesman, as my colleague has justly said, are all about us; and we owe to him, in a good degree, our growth, our greatness, our prosperity and happiness as a people.
The great field of Henry Clay,Mr.Speaker, has been here, on the floor of this house, and in the other wing of the capitol. He had held other posts of higher nominal distinction, but they are all eclipsed by the brilliancy of his career as a congressman. What of gloryhe has acquired, or what most endear him to his countrymen, have been won here, amid these pillars, under these domes of the capitol.
‘Si quæris monumentum, circumspice.’
‘Si quæris monumentum, circumspice.’
‘Si quæris monumentum, circumspice.’
The mind ofMr.Clay has been the governing mind of the country, more or less, ever since he has been on the stage of public action. In a minority or majority—more, perhaps, even in a minority than in a majority—he seems to have had some commission, divine as it were, to persuade, to convince, to govern other men. His patriotism, his grand conceptions, have created measures which the secret fascination of his manners in-doors, or his irresistible eloquence without, have enabled him almost always to frame into laws. Adverse administrations have yielded to him, or been borne down by him, or he has taken them captive as a leader, and carried the country and congress with him. This power he has wielded now for nearly half a century, with nothing but reason and eloquence to back him. And yet when he came here, years ago, he came from a then frontier state of this Union, heralded by no loud trumpet of fame, nay, quite unknown! unfortified even by any position, social or pecuniary;—to quote his own words, ‘my only heritage has been infancy, indigence, and ignorance.’
In these days,Mr.Speaker, when mere civil qualifications for high public places—when long civil training and practical statesmanship are held subordinate—a most discouraging prospect would be rising up before our young men, were it not for some such names as Lowndes, Crawford, Clinton, Gaston, Calhoun, Clay, and the like, scattered along the pages of our history, as stars or constellations along a cloudless sky. They shine forth, and show us, that if the chief magistracy cannot be won by such qualifications, a memory among men can be—a hold upon posterity, as firm, as lustrous—nay, more imperishable. In the Capitolium of Rome there are long rows of marble slabs, on which are recorded the names of the Roman consuls; but the eye wanders over this wilderness of letters but to light up and kindle upon some Cato or Cicero. To win such fame, thus unsullied, asMr.Clay has won, is worth any man’s ambition. And how was it won? By courting the shifting gales of popularity? No, never! By truckling to the schemes, the arts, and seductions of the demagogue? Never, never! His hardest battles as a public man—his greatest, most illustrious achievements—have been against, at first, an adverse public opinion. To gain an imperishable name, he has often braved the perishable popularity of the moment. That sort of courage which, in a public man, I deem the highest of all courage—that sort of courage most necessary under our form of government to guide as well as to save a state—Mr.Clay was possessed of more than any public man I ever knew. Physical courage, valuable, indispensable though it be, we share but with the brute; but moral courage, to dare to do right amid all temptations to do wrong,is, as it seems to me, the very highest species, the noblest heroism, under institutions like ours. ‘I had rather be right than be President,’ wasMr.Clay’s sublime reply when pressed to refrain from some measure that would mar his popularity. These lofty words were the clue of his whole character—the secret of his hold upon the heads as well as hearts of the American people; nay, the key of his immortality.
Another of the keys,Mr.Speaker, of his universal reputation was his intense nationality. When taunted but recently, almost within our hearing, as it were, on the floor of the senate by a southern senator, as being a southern man unfaithful to the south—his indignant but patriotic exclamation was, ‘I know nosouth, no north, no east, no west.’ The country, thewholecountry, loved, reverenced, adored such a man. The soil of Virginia may be his birth-place, the sod of Kentucky will cover his grave—what was mortal they claim—but the spirit, the soul, the genius of the mighty man, the immortal part, these belong to his country and to his God.
Mr.FAULKNER, of Virginia, said: Representing, in part, the state which gave birth to that distinguished man whose death has just been announced upon this floor, and having for many years held toward him the most cordial relations of friendship, personal and political, I feel that I should fail to discharge an appropriate duty, if I permitted this occasion to pass by without some expression of the feeling which such an event is so well calculated to elicit. Sir, this intelligence does not fall upon our ears unexpectedly. For months the public mind has been prepared for the great national loss which we now deplore; and yet, as familiar as the daily and hourly reports have made us with his hopeless condition and gradual decline, and although
‘Like a shadow thrownSoftly and sweetly from a passing cloud,Death fell upon him,’
‘Like a shadow thrownSoftly and sweetly from a passing cloud,Death fell upon him,’
‘Like a shadow thrown
Softly and sweetly from a passing cloud,
Death fell upon him,’
it is impossible that a light of such surpassing splendor should be, as it is now, for ever extinguished from our view, without producing a shock, deeply and painfully felt, to the utmost limits of this great republic. Sir, we all feel that a mighty intellect has passed from among us; but, happily for this country, happily for mankind, not until it had accomplished to some extent the exalted mission for which it had been sent upon this earth; not until it had reached the full maturity of its usefulness and power; not until it had shed a bright and radiant lustre over our national renown; not until time had enabled it to bequeath the rich treasures of its thought and experience for the guidance and instruction of the present and of succeeding generations.
Sir, it is difficult,—it is impossible,—within the limit allowed for remarks upon occasions of this kind, to do justice to a great historical character like Henry Clay. He was one of that class of menwhom Scaliger designates ashomines centenarii—men that appear upon the earth but once in a century. His fame is the growth of years, and it would require time to unfold the elements which have combined to impart to it so much of stability and grandeur. Volumes have already been written, and volumes will continue to be written, to record those eminent and distinguished public services which have placed him in the front rank of American statesmen and patriots. The highest talent, stimulated by a fervid and patriotic enthusiasm, has already and will continue to exhaust its powers to portray those striking and generous incidents of his life,—those shining and captivating qualities of his heart, which have made him one of the most beloved, as he was one of the most admired, of men; and yet the subject itself will remain as fresh and exhaustless as if hundreds of the best intellects of the land had not quaffed the inspiration of their genius from the ever-gushing and overflowing fountains of his fame. It could not be that a reputation so grand and colossal as that which attaches to the name of Henry Clay could rest for its base upon any single virtue, however striking; nor upon any single act, no matter how marked or distinguished. Such a reputation as he has left behind him, could only be the result of a long life of illustrious public service. And such in truth it was. For nearly half a century he has been a prominent actor in all the stirring and eventful scenes of American history, fashioning and moulding many of the most important measures of public policy by his bold and sagacious mind, and arresting others by his unconquerable energy and resistless force of eloquence. And however much the members of this body may differ in opinion as to the wisdom of many of his views of national domestic policy, there is not one upon this floor—no, sir, not one in this nation—who will deny to him frankness and directness as a public man; a genius for statesmanship of the highest order; extraordinary capacities for public usefulness, and an ardent and elevated patriotism, without stain and without reproach.
In referring to a career of public service so varied and extended as that ofMr.Clay, and to a character so rich in every great and manly virtue, it is only possible to glance at a few of the most prominent of those points of his personal history, which have given to him so distinguished a place in the affections of his countrymen.
In the whole character ofMr.Clay, in all that attached or belonged to it, you find nothing that is not essentially American. Born in the darkest period of our revolutionary struggle; reared from infancy to manhood among those great minds which gave the first impulse to that mighty movement, he early imbibed and sedulously cherished those great principles of civil and political liberty, which he so brilliantly illustrated in his subsequent life, and which has made his name a watchword of hope and consolation to the oppressed of all the earth. In his intellectual training he was the pure creation of our own republican soil. Few, if any, allusions are to be seen in his speeches or writings to ancient or modern literature, or to thethoughts and ideas of other men. His country, its institutions, its policy, its interests, its destiny, form the exclusive topics of those eloquent harangues, which, while they are destitute of the elaborate finish, have all the ardor and intensity of thought, the earnestness of purpose, the cogency of reasoning, the vehemence of style, and the burning patriotism which mark the productions of the great Athenian orator.
One of the most distinguishing characteristics ofMr.Clay as a public man was his loyalty to truth and to the honest convictions of his own mind. He deceived no man: he would not permit his own heart to be deceived by any of those seductive influences which too often warp the judgment of men in public station. He never paused to consider how far any step which he was about to take would lead to his own personal advancement; he never calculated what he might lose or what he might gain by his advocacy of, or his opposition to, any particular measure. His single inquiry was: Is it right? Is it in accordance with the constitution of the land? Will it redound to the permanent welfare of the country? When satisfied upon these points, his determination was fixed; his purpose was immovable. ‘I would rather be right than be President,’ was the expression of his genuine feelings, and the principle by which he was controlled in his public career—a saying worthy of immortality, and proper to be inscribed upon the heart of every young man in this republic. And yet, sir, with all of that personal and moral intrepidity which so eminently marked the character ofMr.Clay; with his well-known inflexibility of purpose and unyielding resolution, such was the genuine sincerity of his patriotism, and such his thorough comprehension of those principles of compromise, upon which the whole structure of our government was founded, that no one was more prompt to relax the rigor of his policy the moment he perceived that it was calculated to disturb the harmony of the states, or to endanger in any degree the stability of the government. With him the love of this Union was a passion—an absorbing sentiment—which gave color to every act of his public life. It triumphed over party; it triumphed over policy; it subdued the natural fierceness and haughtiness of his temper, and brought him into the most kindly and cordial relations with those who, upon all other questions, were deeply and bitterly opposed to him. It has been asserted, sir, upon high medical authority, and doubtless with truth, that his life was in all probability shortened ten years by the arduous and extraordinary labors which he assumed at the memorable session of 1850. If so, he has added the crowning glory of theMARTYRto the spotless fame of thePATRIOT; and we may well hope that a great national pacification, purchased at such a sacrifice, will long continue to cement the bonds of this now happy and prosperous Union.
Mr.Clay possessed, in an eminent degree, the qualities of a great popular leader; and history, I will assume to say, affords no example in any republic, ancient or modern, of any individual that so fearlesslycarried out the convictions of his own judgment, and so sparingly flattered the prejudices of popular feeling, who, for so long a period, exercised the same controlling influence over the public mind. Earnest in whatever measure he sustained, fearless in attack,—dexterous in defence,—abounding in intellectual resources,—eloquent in debate,—of inflexible purpose, and with a ‘courage never to submit or yield,’ no man ever lived with higher qualifications to rally a desponding party, or to lead an embattled host to victory. That he never attained the highest post of honorable ambition in this country is not to be ascribed to any want of capacity as a popular leader, nor to the absence of those qualities which attract the fidelity and devotion of ‘troops’ of admiring friends. It was the fortune of Napoleon, at a critical period of his destiny, to be brought into collision with the star of Wellington; and it was the fortune of Henry Clay to have encountered, in his political orbit, another great and original mind, gifted with equal power for commanding success, and blessed with more fortunate elements, concurring at the time, of securing popular favor. The struggle was such as might have been anticipated from the collision of two such fierce and powerful rivals. For near a quarter of a century this great republic has been convulsed to its centre by the divisions which have sprung from their respective opinions, policy, and personal destinies; and even now, when they have both been removed to a higher and a better sphere of existence, and when every unkind feeling has been quenched in the triumphs of the grave, this country still feels, and for years will continue to feel, the influence of those agitations to which their powerful and impressive characters gave impulse.
But I must pause. If I were to attempt to present all the aspects in which the character of this illustrious man will challenge the applause of history, I should fatigue the house and violate the just limit allowed for such remarks.
I cannot, however, conclude, sir, without making some more special allusion toMr.Clay, as a native of that state which I have the honor in part to represent upon this floor. We are all proud, and very properly proud, of the distinguished men to whom our respective states have given birth. It is a just and laudable emulation, and one, in a confederated government like ours, proper to be encouraged. And while men likeMr.Clay very rapidly rise above the confined limits of a state reputation, and acquire a national fame, in which all claim and all have an equal interest, still there is a propriety and fitness in preserving the relation between the individual and his state. Virginia has given birth to a large number of men who have by their distinguished talents and services impressed their names upon the hearts and memories of their countrymen; but certainly, since the colonial era, she has given birth to no man who, in the massive and gigantic proportions of his character, and in the splendor of his native endowments, can be compared to Henry Clay. At an early age, he emigrated from his native state, and found ahome in Kentucky. In a speech which he delivered in the senate of the United States, in February, 1842—and which I well remember—upon the occasion of his resigning his seat in that body, he expressed the wish that, when that event should occur which has now clothed this city in mourning and filled the nation with grief, his ‘earthly remains should be laid under the green sod of Kentucky, with those of her gallant and patriotic sons.’
Sir, however gratifying it might be to us that his remains should be transferred to his native soil, to there mingle with the ashes of Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Lee, and Henry, we cannot complain of the very natural preference which he has himself expressed. If Virginia did give him birth, Kentucky has nourished him in his manhood—has freely lavished upon him her highest honors—has shielded him from harm when the clouds of calumny and detraction gathered heavily and loweringly about him, and she has watched over his fame with the tenderness and zeal of a mother. Sir, it is not to be wondered that he should have expressed the wish he did, to be laid by the side of her gallant and patriotic sons. Happy Kentucky! Happy in having an adopted son so worthy of her highest honors. Happy, in the unshaken fidelity and loyalty with which, for near half a century, those honors have been so steadfastly and gracefully accorded to him.
Sir, whilst Virginia, in the exercise of her own proper judgment, has differed fromMr.Clay in some of his views of national policy, she has never, at any period of his public career, failed to regard him with pride, as one of her most distinguished sons; to honor the purity and the manliness of his character, and to award to him the high credit of an honest and sincere devotion to his country’s welfare. And now, sir, that death has arrested for ever the pulsations of that mighty heart, and sealed in eternal silence those eloquent lips upon whose accents thousands have so often hung in rapture, I shall stand justified in saying, that a wail of lamentation will be heard from her people—her whole people—reverberating through her mountains and valleys, as deep, as genuine, and as sincere as that which, I know, will swell the noble hearts and the heaving bosoms of the people of his own cherished and beloved Kentucky.
Sir, as I walked to the capitol this morning, every object which attracted my eye, admonished me that a nation’s benefactor had departed from amongst us. He is gone! Henry Clay, the idol of his friends, the ornament of the senate chamber, the pride of his country; he whose presence gathered crowds of his admiring fellow-men around him, as if he had been one descended from above, has passed for ever from our view.