with the same massive tread. But there was lacking that which had been the great inspiration of the “Reply to Hayne”—the triumphant consciousness of being right. The effect of the speech corresponded to its character. Southern men welcomed it as a sign of Northern submissiveness, but it did not go far enough to satisfy them. The impression it made upon the anti-slavery people of the North was painful in the extreme. They saw in it “the fall of an archangel.” Many of them denounced it as the treacherous bid of a Presidential candidate for Southern favor. Their reproaches varied from the indignant murmur to the shrillest note of execration. Persons less interested or excited looked up at the colossal figure of the old hero of “Liberty and Union” with a sort of bewildered dismay, as if something unnatural and portentous had happened to him. Even many of his stanchest adherents among the conservative Whigs stood at first stunned and perplexed, needing some time to gather themselves up for his defense.
This was not surprising. Henry Clay could plan and advocate the compromise of 1850 without loss of character. Although a man of anti-slavery instincts, he was himself a slaveholder representing a slaveholding community—a compromise in his very being; and compromise had always been the vital feature of his statesmanship. But Webster could not apologize for slavery, and in its behalf approve compromise and concession in the face of disunion threats, without turning his back upon the most illustrious feat of his public life. Injustice may have been done to him by the assailants of his motives, but it can hardly be denied that the evidence of circumstances stood glaringly against him. He himself was ill at ease. The virulent epithets and sneers with which he thenceforth aspersed anti-slavery principles and anti-slavery men, contrasting strangely with the stately decorum he had
