I have called this biography “From Farm-boy to Senator,” because it is as a senator that Daniel Webster especially distinguished himself. At different times he filled the position of Secretary of State, but it was in the Senate Chamber, where he was associated with other great leaders, in especial Clay, Calhoun and Hayne, that he became a great central object of attention and admiration.

Mr. Webster was not elected to the Senate till he had reached the age of forty-five. For him it was a late preferment, and when it came he accepted it reluctantly. Mr. Clay was not yet thirty when he entered the Senate, and Mr. Calhoun was Vice-President before he attained the age of forty-five. But there was this advantage in Mr. Webster’s case, that when he joined the highest legislative body in the United States he joined it as a giant, fully armed and equipped not only by nature but by long experience in the lower House of Congress, where he was a leader.

The preferment came to him unsought. Mr. Mills, one of the senators from Massachusetts, who had filled his position acceptably, was drawing near the close of his term, and his failing health rendered his re-election impolitic. Naturally Mr. Webster was thought of as his successor, but he felt that he could hardly be spared from the lower House, where he was the leading supporter of the administration of John Quincy Adams. Levi Lincoln was at that time Governor of Massachusetts, and he too had been urged to become a candidate. Mr. Webster wrote him an urgent letter, in the hope of persuading him to favor this step. From that letter I quote:

“I take it for granted that Mr. E. H. Mills will be no longer a candidate. The question then will be, Who is to succeed him? I need not say to you that you yourself will doubtless be a prominent object of consideration in relation to the vacant place, and the purpose of this communication requires me also to acknowledge that I deem it possible that my name also should be mentioned, more or less generally, as one who may be thought of, among others, for the same situation.... There are many strong personal reasons, and, as friends think, and as I think too, some public reasons why I should decline the offer of a seat in the Senate if it should be made to me. Without entering at present into a detail of those reasons, I will say that the latter class of them grow out of the public station which I at present fill, and out of the necessity of increasing rather than of diminishing, in both branches of the National Legislature, the strength that may be reckoned on as friendly to the present administration.... To come, therefore, to the main point, I beg to say that I see no way in which the public good can be so well promoted as by your consenting to go into the Senate.

“This is my own clear and decided opinion; it is the opinion, equally clear and decided, of intelligent and patriotic friends here, and I am able to add that it is also the decided opinion of all those friends elsewhere whose judgment in such matters we should naturally regard. I believe I may say, without violating confidence, that it is the wish, entertained with some earnestness, of our friends at Washington that you should consent to be Mr. Mills’s successor.”

No one certainly can doubt the absolute sincerity of these utterances. It was, and is, unusual for a representative to resist so earnestly what is considered a high promotion. Mr. Webster was an ambitious man, but he thought that the interests of the country required him to stay where he was, and hence his urgency.

But Gov. Lincoln was no less patriotic. In an elaborate reply to Mr. Webster’s letter, from which I have quoted above, he urges that “the deficiency of power in the Senate is the weak point in the citadel” of the administration party. “No individual should be placed there but who was now in armor for the conflict, who understood the proper mode of resistance, who personally knew and had measured strength with the opposition, who was familiar with the political interests and foreign relations of the country, with the course of policy of the administration, and who would be prepared at once to meet and decide upon the charter of measures which should be proposed. This, I undertake to say, no novice in the national council could do. At least I would not promise to attempt it. I feel deeply that I could not do it successfully. There is no affectation of humility in this, and under such impressions I cannot suffer myself to be thought of in a manner which may make me responsible for great mischief in defeating the chance of a better selection.”

I am sure my young readers will agree that this correspondence was highly honorable to both these eminent gentlemen. It is refreshing to turn from the self-sufficient and self-seeking politicians of our own day, most of whom are ready to undertake any responsibilities however large, without a doubt of their own fitness, to the modesty and backwardness of these really great men of fifty years since. In the light of Mr. Webster’s great career we must decide that Gov. Lincoln was right in deciding that he should be the next senator from Massachusetts.

At any rate such was the decision arrived at, and in June, 1827, Mr. Webster was elected senator for a period of six years. In due time he took his seat. He was no novice, but a man known throughout the country, and quite the equal in fame of any of his compeers. I suppose no new senator has ever taken his seat who was already a man of such wide fame and national importance as Daniel Webster in 1827. Had James A. Garfield, instead of assuming the Presidency, taken the seat in the Senate to which he had been elected on the fourth of March, 1881, his would have been a parallel case.

Of course there was some curiosity as to the opening speech of the already eminent senator. He soon found a fitting theme. A bill was introduced for the relief of the surviving officers of the Revolution. Such a bill was sure to win the active support of the orator who had delivered the address at Bunker Hill.

Alluding to some objections which had been made to the principle of pensioning them, Mr. Webster said: “There is, I know, something repulsive and opprobrious in the name of pension. But God forbid that I should taunt them with it. With grief, heartfelt grief, do I behold the necessity which leads these veterans to accept the bounty of their country in a manner not the most agreeable to their feelings. Worn out and decrepit, represented before us by those, their former brothers in arms, who totter along our lobbies or stand leaning on their crutches, I, for one, would most gladly support such a measure as should consult at once their services, their years, their necessities and the delicacy of their sentiments. I would gladly give with promptitude and grace, with gratitude and delicacy, that which merit has earned and necessity demands.

“It is objected that the militia have claims upon us; that they fought at the side of the regular soldiers, and ought to share in the country’s remembrance. But it is known to be impossible to carry the measure to such an extent as to embrace the militia, and it is plain, too, that the cases are different. The bill, as I have already said, confines itself to those who served, not occasionally, not temporarily, but permanently; who allowed themselves to be counted on as men who were to see the contest through, last as long as it might; and who have made the phrase ‘‘listing for the war’ a proverbial expression, signifying unalterable devotion to our cause, through good fortune and ill fortune, till it reached its close.

“This is a plain distinction; and although, perhaps, I might wish to do more, I see good ground to stop here for the present, if we must stop anywhere. The militia who fought at Concord, at Lexington and at Bunker Hill, have been alluded to in the course of this debate in terms of well-deserved praise. Be assured, sir, there could with difficulty be found a man, who drew his sword or carried his musket at Concord, at Lexington or at Bunker Hill, who would wish you to reject this bill. They might ask you to do more, but never to refrain from doing this. Would to God they were assembled here, and had the fate of this bill in their own hands! Would to God the question of its passage were to be put to them! They would affirm it with a unity of acclamation that would rend the roof of the Capitol!”

This is so much in Mr. Webster’s style that, had I quoted it without stating that it was his, I think many of my young readers would have been able to guess the authorship.