But, gentlemen, this is a solemn subject, and is not to be dealt with lightly. And here it is that I will refer to the great speech of Mr. Webster, in the Senate of the United States, on the _7th of March, 1850_--to be found in the fifth volume of his works, _page_ 353. Mr. Webster was a great man, gentlemen, like John Marshall, and he could stand that test of a great man--to be looked at closely. Our country produces an abundance of so-called great men. The very paving-stones are prolific with them. Every village, and hamlet, and blind alley has one, at least. And when we catch a foreigner, just arrived, we first ask him what he thinks of our country, and then, pointing to some person, say, "He is one of the most remarkable men in the country;" until, finally, the foreigner begins to conclude that we are all remarkable men; that, like children, we are all prodigies until we grow up, when we give up the business of being prodigies very soon, as most of us have had occasion to illustrate. Mr. Webster, I say, was a great man, because he could stand the test of being looked at very near, and he grew greater all the time. There is no incident in my life of which I cherish a more pleasant or more vivid recollection than being once in a small room, with some other counsel, associated with Mr. Webster, about the time he made his last professional effort, when, in a moment of melancholy, one night about twelve o'clock, he came up, and, sitting down on the corner of a very old-fashioned bedstead, put his arm around the post, and proceeded to enlighten and fascinate us with a familiar, and sometimes playful, account of his early life; his first arguments in the Supreme Court of the United States; and the course, in its inner developments, of that life which, in its public features, has been so interesting to the country, and is to be always so interesting to mankind.