The death of the men, who declared our independence -their death on the day of the jubilee, was all that was wanting to the fourth of July. To die on that day, and to die together, was all that was wanting to Jefferson and Adams.

"Think not, fellow citizens, that in the mere formal discharge of my duty this day, I would overrate the melancholy interest of the great occasion. Heaven knows, I do anything but intentionally overrate it. I labor only for words, to do justice to your feelings and to mine. I can say nothing, which does not sound as cold, as tame, and as inadequate to myself as to you. The theme is too great and too surprising, the men are too great and good to be spoken of, in this cursory manner. There is too much in the contemplation of their united characters, their services, the day and coincidence of their death, to be properly described, or to be fully felt at once. I dare not come here and dismiss, in a few summary paragraphs, the characters of men, who have filled such a space in the history of their age. It would be a disrespectful familiarity with men of their lofty spirits, their rich endowments, their deep counsels, and wise measures, their long and honorable lives, to endea vor thus to weigh and estimate them. I leave that arduous task, to the genius of kindred elevation, by whom to-morrow it will be discharged.* I feel the mournful contrast in the fortunes of the first and best of men, that after a life in the highest walks of usefulness; after conferring benefits, not merely on a neighborhood,

An Eulogy was delivered on Adams and Jefferson, on the following day, in Faneuil Hall, by Daniel Webster.

a city, or even a state, but on a whole continent, and a posterity of kindred men; after having stood in the first estimation for talents, services, and influence, among millions of fellow citizens, a day should come, which closes all up; pronounces a brief blessing on their memory; gives an hour to the actions of a crowded life; describes in a sentence what it took years to bring to pass, and what is destined for years and ages to continue and operate on posterity; forces into a few words the riches of busy days of action and weary nights of meditation; passes forgetfully over many traits of character, many counsels and measures, which it cost perhaps years of discipline and effort to mature; utters a funeral prayer; chants a mournful anthem; and then dismisses all into the dark chambers of death and forgetfulness.

"But, no, fellow citizens, we dismiss them not to the chambers of forgetfulness and death. What we admired, and prized, and venerated in them, can never die, nor dying, be forgotten. I had almost said that they are now beginning to live; to live that life of unimpaired influence, of unclouded fame, of unmingled happiness, for which their talents and services were destined. They were of the select few, the least portion of whose life dwells in their physical existence; whose hearts have watched, while their senses have slept; whose souls have grown up into a higher being; whose pleasure is to be useful; whose wealth is an unblemished reputation; who respire the breath of honorable fame; who have deliberately and consciously put what is called life to hazard, that they may live in the hearts of those who

come after. Such men do not, cannot die. To be cold, and motionless, and breathless; to feel not and speak, not; this is not the end of existence to the men who have breathed their spirits into the institutions of their country, who have stamped their characters on the pillars of the age, who have poured their hearts' blood into the channels of the public prosperity. Tell me, ye, who tread the sods of yon sacred height, is Warren dead? Can you not still see him, not pale and prostrate, the blood of his gallant heart pouring out of his ghastly wound, but moving resplendent over the field of honor, with the rose of heaven upon his cheek, and the fire of liberty in his eye? Tell me, ye, who make your pious pilgrimage to the shades of Vernon, is Washington indeed shut up in that cold and narrow house? That which made these men, and men like these, cannot die. The hand that traced the charter of independence is indeed motionless, the eloquent lips that sustained it are hushed; but the lofty spirits that conceived, resolved, matured, maintained it, and which alone to such men, 'make it life to live,' these cannot expire ;

'These shall resist the empire of decay,

When time is o'er, and worlds have passed away :
Cold in the dust, the perished heart may lie,

But that, which warmed it once, can never die.'"

Having presented the foregoing outlines of Mr. Everett's professional career, with diversified extracts from his works to exemplify the more prominent traits of his mind, we come now to the more delicate task of projecting a specific analysis of his eloquence. We

home, we are confounded at the reflection, that the same Spartan heroism to which he sacrificed himself at Thermopyla, would have led him to tear his only child, it happened to be a sickly babe,-the very object for which all that is kind and good in man rise up to plead, -from the bosom of its mother, and carry it out to be eaten by the wolves of Taygetus. We feel a glow of admiration at the heroism displayed at Marathon, by the ten thousand champions of invaded Greece; but we cannot forget that the tenth part of the number were slaves, unchained from the work-shops and door-posts of their masters, to go and fight the battles of freedor I do not mean that these examples are to destroy interest with which we read the history of ancient ti they possibly increase that interest, by the singula trast they exhibit. But they do warn us, if v the warning, to seek our great practical lessons otism at home; out of the exploits and sa which our own country is the theatre; out racters of our own fathers. Them we kno souled, natural, unaffected,--the citizen know what happy firesides they left for camp. We know with what pacific hab the perils of the field. There is no r mance, no madness, under the name of them. It is all resolute, manly res science' and liberty's sake,-not whelming power, but of all the habits, and the native love of ord "Above all, their blood calls t we tread; it beats in our ve