in harmony with his appearance.  It was low and musical in conversation; in debate it was high but full, ringing out in moments of excitement like a clarion, and then sinking to deep notes with the solemn richness of organ-tones, while the words were accompanied by a manner in which grace and dignity mingled in complete accord.  The impression which he produced upon the eye and ear it is difficult to express.  There is no man in all history who came into the world so equipped physically for speech.  In this direction nature could do no more.  The mere look of the man and the sound of his voice made all who saw and heard him feel that he must be the embodiment of wisdom, dignity, and strength, divinely eloquent, even if he sat in dreamy silence or uttered nothing but heavy commonplaces.

It is commonly said that no one of the many pictures of Mr. Webster gives a true idea of what he was.  We can readily believe this when we read the descriptions which have come down to us.  That indefinable quality which we call personal magnetism, the power of impressing by one’s personality every human being who comes near, was at its height in Mr. Webster.  He never, for instance, punished his children, but when they did wrong he would send for them and look at them silently.  The look, whether of anger or sorrow, was punishment and rebuke enough.  It was the same with other children.  The little daughter of Mr. Wirt once came into a room where Mr. Webster was sitting with his back toward her, and touched him on the arm.  He turned suddenly, and the child started back with an affrighted cry at the sight of that dark, stern, melancholy face.  But the cloud passed as swiftly as the shadows on a summer sea, and the next moment the look of affection and humor brought the frightened child into Mr. Webster’s arms, and they were friends and playmates in an instant.

The power of a look and of changing expression, so magical with a child, was hardly less so with men.  There have been very few instances in history where there is such constant reference to merely physical attributes as in the case of Mr. Webster.  His general appearance and his eyes are the first and last things alluded to in every contemporary description.  Every one is familiar with the story of the English navvy who pointed at Mr. Webster in the streets of Liverpool and said, “There goes a king.”  Sidney Smith exclaimed when he saw him, “Good heavens, he is a small cathedral by himself.”  Carlyle, no lover of America, wrote to Emerson:—­

“Not many days ago I saw at breakfast the notablest of all your notabilities, Daniel Webster.  He is a magnificent specimen.  You might say to all the world, ’This is our Yankee Englishman; such limbs we make in Yankee land!’ As a logic fencer, or parliamentary Hercules, one would incline to back him at first sight against all the extant world.  The tanned complexion; that amorphous crag-like face; the dull black eyes under the precipice of brows, like dull anthracite