He was still the leading man in the Whig party; and he hoped, in 1852, to be nominated for the presidency.  But in this he was again disappointed.

He was now an old man.  He had had great successes in life; but he felt that he had failed at the end of the race.  His health was giving way.  He went home to Marshfield for the quiet and rest which he so much needed.

In May, that same year, he was thrown from his carriage and severely hurt.  From this hurt he never recovered.  He offered to resign his seat in the cabinet, but Mr. Fillmore would not listen to this.

In September he became very feeble, and his friends knew that the end was near.  On the 24th of October, 1852, he died.  He was nearly seventy-one years old.

In every part of the land his death was sincerely mourned.  Both friends and enemies felt that a great man had fallen.  They felt that this country had lost its leading statesman, its noblest patriot, its worthiest citizen.

Rufus Choate, who had succeeded him as the foremost lawyer in New England, delivered a great oration upon his life and character.  He said: 

“Look in how manly a sort, in how high a moral tone, Mr. Webster uniformly dealt with the mind of his country.

“Where do you find him flattering his countrymen, indirectly or directly, for a vote?  On what did he ever place himself but good counsels and useful service?

“Who ever heard that voice cheering the people on to rapacity, to injustice, to a vain and guilty glory?

“How anxiously, rather, did he prefer to teach, that by all possible acquired sobriety of mind, by asking reverently of the past, by obedience to the law, by habits of patient labor, by the cultivation of the mind, by the fear and worship of God, we educate ourselves for the future that is revealing.”

THE STORY OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN

[Illustration:  ABRAHAM LINCOLN.]

THE STORY OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.

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I.—­THE KENTUCKY HOME.

Not far from Hodgensville, in Kentucky, there once lived a man whose name was Thomas Lincoln.  This man had built for himself a little log cabin by the side of a brook, where there was an ever-flowing spring of water.

There was but one room in this cabin.  On the side next to the brook there was a low doorway; and at one end there was a large fireplace, built of rough stones and clay.

The chimney was very broad at the bottom and narrow at the top.  It was made of clay, with flat stones and slender sticks laid around the outside to keep it from falling apart.

In the wall, on one side of the fireplace, there was a square hole for a window.  But there was no glass in this window.  In the summer it was left open all the time.  In cold weather a deerskin, or a piece of coarse cloth, was hung over it to keep out the wind and the snow.