him, in the ‘imminent deadly breach;’ and all I could do was to skirmish, in aid of him, upon some of the enemy’s outposts.  On the whole, I never was more proud of any display than his in my life, and I am much deceived if the well-earned popularity, so justly and so boldly acquired by him on this occasion, does not carry him, if he lives, to the presidency.”

While this convention, so memorable in the career of Mr. Webster and so filled with the most absorbing labors, was in session, he achieved a still wider renown in a very different field.  On the 22d of December, 1820, he delivered at Plymouth the oration which commemorated the two hundredth anniversary of the landing of the Pilgrims.  The theme was a splendid one, both in the intrinsic interest of the event itself, in the character of the Pilgrims, in the vast results which had grown from their humble beginnings, and in the principles of free government, which had spread from the cabins of the exiles over the face of a continent, and had become the common heritage of a great people.  We are fortunate in having a description of the orator, written at the time by a careful observer and devoted friend, Mr. Ticknor, who says:—­

“Friday Evening.—­I have run away from a great levee there is down-stairs, thronging in admiration round Mr. Webster, to tell you a little word about his oration.  Yet I do not dare to trust myself about it, and I warn you beforehand that I have not the least confidence in my own opinion.  His manner carried me away completely; not, I think, that I could have been so carried away if it had been a poor oration, for of that, I apprehend, there can be no fear.  It must have been a great, a very great performance, but whether it was so absolutely unrivalled as I imagined when I was under the immediate influence of his presence, of his tones, of his looks, I cannot be sure till I have read it, for it seems to me incredible.

“I was never so excited by public speaking before in my life.  Three or four times I thought my temples would burst with the gush of blood; for, after all, you must know that I am aware it is no connected and compacted whole, but a collection of wonderful fragments of burning eloquence, to which his whole manner gave tenfold force.  When I came out I was almost afraid to come near to him.  It seemed to me as if he was like the mount that might not be touched and that burned with fire.  I was beside myself, and am so still.”

“Saturday.—­Mr. Webster was in admirable spirits.  On Thursday evening he was considerably agitated and oppressed, and yesterday morning he had not his natural look at all; but since his entire success he has been as gay and playful as a kitten.  The party came in one after another, and the spirits of all were kindled brighter and brighter, and we fairly sat up till after two o’clock.  I think, therefore, we may now safely boast the