It was after his memorable speech in reply to Hayne that I saw Webster for the first time.  I was a boy in college, and he had come to visit it; and well do I remember the unbounded admiration, yea, the veneration, felt for him by every young man in that college and throughout the town,—­indeed, throughout the whole North, for he was the pride and glory of the land.  It was then that they called him godlike, looking like an Olympian statue, or one of the creations of Michael Angelo when he wished to represent majesty and dignity and power in repose,—­the most commanding human presence ever seen in the Capitol at Washington.

When we recall those patriotic and noble speeches which were read and admired by every merchant and farmer and lawyer in the country, and by which he produced great convictions and taught great lessons, we cannot but wonder why his glory was dimmed, and he was pulled down from his pedestal, and became no longer an idol.  It is affirmed by many that it was his famous 7th of March speech which killed him, which disappointed his friends and alienated his constituents.  I am therefore compelled to say something about that speech, and of his history at that time.

Mr. Webster was doubtless an ambitious man.  He aspired to the presidency.  And why not?  It is and will be a great dignity, such as ought to be conferred on great ability and patriotism.  Was he not able and patriotic?  Had he not rendered great services?  Was he not universally admired for his genius and experience and wisdom?  Who was more prominent than he, among the statesmen of the country, or more thoroughly fitted to fulfil the duties of that high office?  Was it not natural that he should have aspired to be one of the successors of Washington and Adams and Jefferson?  He comprehended the honor and the dignity of that office.  He did not seek it in order to divide its spoils, or to reward his friends; but he did wish to secure the highest prize that could be won by political services; he did desire to receive the highest honor in the gift of the people, even as Cicero sought the consulate at Rome; he did believe himself capable of representing the country in its most exacting position.  It is nothing against a man that he is ambitious, provided his ambition is lofty.  Most of the illustrious men of history have been ambitious,—­Cromwell, Pitt, Thiers, Guizot, Bismarck,—­but ambitious to be useful to their country, as well as to receive its highest rewards.  Webster failed to reach the position he desired, because of his enemies, and, possibly, from jealousy of his towering height,—­just as Clay failed, and Aaron Burr, and Alexander Hamilton, and Stephen Douglas, and William H. Seward.  The politicians, who control the people, prefer men in the presidential chair whom they think they can manage and use, not those to whom they will be forced to succumb.  Webster was not a man to be controlled or used, and so the politicians rejected him.  This he deeply felt, and even resented.  His failure saddened his latter days and embittered his soul, although he was too proud to make loud complaints.