It was a strong and temperate statement of the existing condition of affairs, and of the necessity of compromise. In making this speech Mr. Webster was fully aware that he was hazarding his popularity—nay, was sure to lose it—that he would grieve his best friends, and excite a storm of indignation at the North. He was not mistaken. The minds of men were in no mood for temperate counsels. They were in no mood to appreciate the patriotic motives which actuated the great statesman. He was charged with falling from honor and making undue concessions to slavery. Upon this last point I shall express no opinion. I only claim that Mr. Webster’s motives were pure, and that though he may have gone too far in his concessions, he was influenced thereto by the depth of his devotion to the Union. There were not wanting those who charged him with making in his speech a bid for the Presidency, forgetting that he could not have injured his chances more effectually than by stirring up against himself his warmest political friends. That Mr. Webster had an honorable ambition to serve his country in that great office—the greatest in its gift—no one will dispute. He knew his own fitness, and would have rejoiced to crown a life of high service with this elevated trust. But I have said elsewhere that it is only in an ideal republic that the greatest citizens reach the highest posts, and our republic is not an ideal one. In the light of our present experience we can see that Mr. Webster was wrong in supposing that the republic could go on indefinitely with slavery as its corner-stone. Any compromise could be only for a time. But he was an old man—sixty-eight years of age—grown cautious and conservative with advancing years, and he could not see through the clouds that gathered before him. With this brief vindication of his motives I proceed to give an extract from his last great speech: