[2]P. 59, l. 5. 1. I give the beautiful description which Dr. Goodrich wrote to Mr. Choate in 1853. "Here the feelings, which he had thus far succeeded in keeping down, broke forth. His lips quivered; his firm cheeks trembled with emotion; his eyes were filled with tears; his voice choked, and he seemed struggling to the utmost simply to gain that mastery over himself which might save him from an unmanly burst of feeling. I will not attempt to give you the few broken words of tenderness in which he went on to speak of his attachment for the college. The whole seemed to be mingled throughout with recollections of father, mother, brother, and all the privations and trials through which he had made his way into life. Every one saw that it was wholly unpremeditated, a pressure on his heart, which sought relief in words and tears." The court-room during these two or three minutes presented an extraordinary spectacle. Chief Justice Marshall, with his tall and gaunt figure, bent over as if to catch the slightest whisper, the deep furrows of his cheek expanded with emotion, and his eyes suffused with tears; Mr. Justice Washington at his side, with his small and emaciated frame, and countenance more like marble than I ever saw on any other human being--leaning forward with an eager troubled look; and the remainder of the Court at the two extremities, pressing, as it were, toward a single point, while the audience below were wrapping themselves around in closer folds beneath the bench, to catch each look and every feature of the speaker's face. If a painter could give us the scene on canvas,--those forms and countenances, and Daniel Webster as he there stood in their midst,--it would be one of the most touching pictures in the history of eloquence. One thing it taught me, that the _pathetic_ depends not merely on the words uttered, but still more on the estimate we put upon him who utters them. There was not one among the strong-minded men of that assembly who could think it unmanly to weep, when he saw standing before him the man who had made such an argument, melted into the tenderness of a child. Mr. Webster had now recovered his composure, and, fixing his keen eye on the Chief Justice, in that deep tone with which he sometimes thrilled the heart of an audience, continued."[3] L. 10. 2. When Mr. Webster sat down, there was a stillness as of death in the court-room, and when the audience had slowly recovered itself the replies of the opposing counsel were made, but seemed weak indeed in comparison to what had just been heard. On the conclusion of the arguments, the Chief Justice announced that the Court could not agree, and that the case must be continued to the next term. During the interim, the utmost effort was used by the friends of the College, the press, and the Federalists, to bring the matter before the public, and to impress the judges with the condition of the public mind. The defence prepared to renew the contest, and able counsel was