The biography of Henry Clay, from his childhood upward, is too familiar to every American for me to trespass on the time of this house by a reference directly thereto; and the honorable gentlemen who have preceded me have, with affectionate hand and appropriate delicacy, swept away the dust which nearly fourscore years have scattered over a part of the record, and have made our pride greater in his life, and our grief more poignant at his death, by showing some of those passages which attract respect to our republican institutions, of which Mr. Clay’s whole life was the able support and the most successful illustration. It would, then, be a work of supererogation for me to renew that effort, though inquiry into the life and conduct of Henry Clay would present new themes for private eulogy, new grounds for public gratitude. How rare is it, Mr. Speaker, that the great man, living, can with confidence rely on extensive personal friendship, or dying, think to awaken a sentiment of regret beyond that which includes the public loss or the disappointment of individual hopes. Yet, sir, the message which yesterday went forth from this city that Henry Clay was dead, brought sorrow――personal, private, special sorrow――to the hearts of thousands; each of whom felt that from his own love for, his long attachment to, his disinterested hopes in Henry Clay, he had a particular sorrow to cherish and express, which weighed upon his heart, separate from the sense of national loss. No man, Mr. Speaker, in our nation had the art so to identify himself with public measures of the most momentous character, and to maintain at the same time almost universal affection, like that great statesman. His business, from his boyhood, was with national concerns, and he dealt with them as with familiar things. And yet his sympathies were with individual interests, enterprises, affections, joys, and sorrows; and while every patriot bowed in humble deference to his lofty attainments and heartfelt gratitude for his national services, almost every man in this vast republic knew that the great statesman was, in feeling and experience, identified with his own position. Hence the universal love of the people; hence their enthusiasm in all times for his fame. Hence, sir, their present grief. Many other public men of our country have distinguished themselves and brought honor to the nation by superiority in some particular branch of public service, but it seems to have been the gift of Mr. Clay to have acquired peculiar eminence in every path of duty he was called to tread. In the earnestness of debate, which great public interests and distinguished opposing talents excited in this house, he had no superior in energy, force, or effect. Yet, as the presiding officer, by blandness of language and firmness of purpose, he soothed and made orderly; and thus, by official dignity, he commanded the respect which energy had secured to him on the floor.