cortege passing through Baltimore, Wilmington, Philadelphia, the principal places in New Jersey, New York, Albany, Ithaca, Syracuse, Rochester, Buffalo, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Louisville, everywhere the people assembling by thousands to do the last honor to Henry Clay. On July 10 his ashes were laid to rest at Lexington, where now an imposing monument marks his tomb.
Not only the halls of Congress, but the whole country resounded with obituary eulogy of the dead statesman. It was more than ordinarily the voice of genuine feeling that spoke. The bereaved affection of his personal friends broke out in loud lament. Even among his opponents the brilliancy of his talents, coupled with so knightly a character, had won a warm-hearted admiration, which found ample utterance. Every patriotic man in the land proudly called him a great American. Nobody wished to remember his faults, or to be over-critical in the praise of his virtues and in the estimation of his public services. It was not at all surprising that, as his enthusiastic nature had always appealed to the emotions, the most generous impulses of the popular heart should have followed him to the grave.
Henry Clay himself had by no means been indifferent to the fame he would leave behind him. In his correspondence there are frequent symptoms of his solicitude as to his place in the history of his country. Nine months before his death, in a letter to Daniel Ullmann, he made some suggestions
