own country, which, gathering in its course the contributions of many tributary streams, pours at last its own current into the ocean, deep, clear, and irresistible.
But I confess, that I dwell with even more pleasure upon the entirety of a life adorned by consistent principles, and filled up in the discharge of virtuous duty; where there is nothing to regret, and nothing to conceal; no friendships broken; no confidence betrayed; no timid surrenders to popular clamour; no eager reaches for popular favour. Who does not listen with conscious pride to the truth, that the disciple, the friend, the biographer of Washington, still lives, the uncompromising advocate of his principles?
I am but too sensible, that to some minds the time may not seem yet to have arrived, when language, like this, however true, should meet the eyes of the public. May the period be yet far distant, when praise shall speak out with that fulness of utterance, which belongs to the sanctity of the grave.
But I know not, that in the course of providence the privilege will be allowed me hereafter, to declare, in any suitable form, my deep sense of the obligations, which the jurisprudence of my country owes to your labours, of which I have been for twenty-one years a witness, and in some humble measure a companion. And if any apology should be required for my present freedom, may I not say, that at your age all reserve may well be spared, since all your labours must soon belong exclusively to history?
Allow me to add, that I have a desire (will it be deemed presumptuous?) to record upon these pages the memory of a friendship, winch has for so many years been to me a source of inexpressible satisfaction; and which, I indulge the hope, may continue to accompany, and cheer me to the close of life.
Cambridge, January, 1833.
