He had only engaged for two terms, but such was his success that the trustees were not willing to have him go. As an inducement to him to remain they offered to increase his small salary of three hundred and fifty dollars to five or six hundred, with a house to live in, a piece of land to cultivate, and possibly a clerkship of the Common Pleas. All this may sound very small to us, but to a youth who had been reared in such straitened circumstances as Daniel it seemed like a liberal competence. It required some decision and boldness to reject this certainly for the uncertain prospects of a young lawyer, before whom lay at the first a period of poverty and struggle. Then it must be added that Daniel was modest, and was far from believing that he was endowed with extraordinary talent. It is very probable that more than half the young men who graduate from our law schools to-day have a higher opinion of their abilities than Daniel Webster at the age of twenty. To illustrate his struggles I quote from a letter written at this time. “What shall I do? Shall I say, ‘Yes, gentlemen,’ and sit down here to spend my days in a kind of comfortable privacy, or shall I relinquish these prospects, and enter into a profession where my feelings will be constantly harrowed by objects either of dishonesty or misfortune; where my living must be squeezed from penury (for rich folks seldom go to law), and my moral principle be continually at hazard? I agree with you that the law is well calculated to draw forth the powers of the mind, but what are its effects on the heart? are they equally propitious? Does it inspire benevolence and awake tenderness; or does it, by a frequent repetition of wretched objects, blunt sensibility and stifle the still, small voice of mercy? “The talent with which Heaven has intrusted me is small, very small; yet I feel responsible for the use of it, and am not willing to pervert it to purposes reproachful or unjust, or to hide it, like the slothful servant, in a napkin. “On the whole, I imagine I shall make one more trial (of the law) in the ensuing autumn. If I prosecute the profession, I pray God to fortify me against its temptations. To the winds I dismiss those light hopes of eminence which ambition inspired and vanity fostered. To be ‘honest, to be capable, to be faithful’ to my client and my conscience. I believe you, my worthy boy, when you tell me what are your intentions. I have long known and long loved the honesty of your heart. But let us not rely too much on ourselves; let us look to some less fallible guide to direct us among the temptations that surround us.” In a letter written June 4, 1802, Mr. Webster refers to his indecision as to a career.