leader of the Federal party in New England, in and out of Congress. He was re-elected to a seat in the House of Representatives in 1814 by a large majority. At the close of the term he resumed the practice of his profession, and in 1816 he removed to Boston, because it afforded a wider field for his expanding legal business. In 1817 he retired from Congress, and the following year he was employed in the great Dartmouth College case, in which difficult constitutional questions were involved. His efforts in that trial placed him at the head of constitutional lawyers in New England-a position which he always held.

In 1821, Mr. Webster assisted in the revision of the constitution of Massachusetts, and he was elected a representative of Boston in Congress the following year. An almost unanimous vote re-elected him in 1824. He was chosen United States Senator in 1826, but did not take his seat until the autumn of 1828, on account of severe domestic affliction. In that body he held a front rank for twelve consecutive years. Probably the greatest contest in eloquence, logic and statesmanship ever exhibited in the Senate of the United States was that between Webster and Hayne of South Carolina in 1830. Mr. Webster supported President Jackson against the nullifiers of the South in 1832, but the fiscal policy of Jack son and Van Buren was always opposed by him. In 1839 he made a brief tour through portions of Great Britain and France, and returned in time to take an active part in the election canvass which resulted in the choice of General Harrison for chief magistrate of the republic. The new President made Mr. Webster his Secretary of State,

and he was retained in the Cabinet of President Tyler. In 1842 he negotiated the important treaty concerning the north-eastern boundary of the United States, known as the Ashburton treaty.

In May the following year Mr. Webster retired to private life, but his constituents would not suffer him to enjoy coveted repose. He was again sent to the Senate of the United States in 1845, where he opposed the war with Mexico, but sustained the administration after hostilities had commenced by voting supplies. In 1850 he offended many of his Northern friends by his course in favor of the Compromise Act, in which the Fugitive Slave law was embodied. On the death of President Taylor, Mr. Fillmore, his successor, called Mr. Webster to his Cabinet as Secretary of State, and he held that responsible office until his death, which occurred at the mansion on his fine estate at Marshfield on the 24th of October, 1852, when at the age of almost seventy-one years.

M

BENSON J. LOSSING.

THOMAS MOORE.

OORE was born in Dublin on 28th of

May, 1779. His parents were Catholies and in humble circumstances, but gave him a tolerably good education, and in 1793, when the University of Dublin was opened to Catholics, he was sent there. He speedily distinguished himself by his classical attainments, but narrowly escaped a government prosecution for treason-of which, indeed, he was not quite guiltless. In 1793 he contributed verses of considerable merit to a periodical called Anthologia Hibernica. and in 1799 he removed to London, where appeared his translation of Anacreon, ded

icated by permission to the prince of Wales, which brought him into notice. His singing, too, became the rage in fashionable circles, and so popular was he that he obtained the appointment of admiralty-registrar for Bermuda, with a handsome salary. He set out for Bermuda in 1804, but, wearying of the place, he returned to England, leaving his duties to be performed by a deputy. On his return from Bermuda he published two volumes of poems, which were most unmercifully treated by the Edinburgh Review. Moore considered the criticism as so personal that he sent a challenge to Jeffrey, the editor, and a meeting was arranged; but while the seconds were loading the pistols Moore and Jeffrey got into an agreeable chat, which was interrupted only by the arrival of the police, who carried them off to Bow street. The matter was ultimately arranged, and the pair became fast friends ever after. In 1807, Moore commenced his Irish melodies, a noble and patriotic work which met with a most enthusiastic reception, especially from his countrymen; the first part was published in 1813, and the last part in 1834. In 1811 he married Miss Bessy Dyke, a lady who had attained some distinction on the Irish stage; she was a most suitable wife, and made for him a happy home. In 1812 he commenced a series of satirical effusions which met with prodigious success; the wit, ease and playfulness of the satire captivated every circle, and the poet's reputation was such that a friend was able to make an arrangement with Murray, the publisher, for Moore to write an Eastern romance in poetry and to get for it the sum of three thousand guineas. This, for a poem yet unwritten, is one of the most striking events in poetical his

tory. The poem was finished and published in 1817. It had a wonderful sale: six editions were sold in as many months; and the truth of the descriptions was the wonder and delight of Orientalists, who knew Moore had never been in the East; even Jeffrey hailed it "as the finest Orientalism we have had yet."

Moore's star was at its zenith when notice arrived of the fraud of his deputy in Bermuda, entailing on him a loss of six thousand pounds. An attachment was issued against his person, and Moore left for Paris, but by the kindness of friends he was ultimately enabled to compromise and settle the matter. Whilst on the Continent he composed "The Epicurean," a prose story, and "The Loves of the Angels," published in 1823. His circumstances were not such as to free his mind from anxiety, and on a hint to this effect to Lord John Russell he in 1835 received a pension of three hundred pounds a year from government.

During the rest of his career Moore was chiefly engaged as a prose-writer; his Life of Sheridan and Life of Lord Byron are among the best of his works at this period. In 1838 he resolved on a visit to Ireland; the news preceded him, and wherever he appeared he was greeted with rapturous enthusiasm. Processions met him, triumphal arches were erected where he went, and if applause could give happiness he was at the summit of earthly felicity.

The closing years of Moore's life were sad and melancholy; his children one by one sunk into the grave and a settled depression gathered over the poet's mind, deepening as he drew near his end. He died on 25th February, 1852.

ROBERT INGLIS

look

fully more comfortable than graceful. The provost at this time might be about fiftyfive. In disposition our worthy magistrate was kind, humane and affable. He spoke to everybody with the utmost familiarity, and, we may add, with great volubility. This last, in truth, was one of the worthy man's failings. He talked a vast deal more than was necessary, and a great deal more sometimes than was understood, as he spoke both very thick and very fast, and had, moreover, a habit of repeating his words, which formed a large addition to the amount of matter he delivered without conveying an iota of additional sentiment along with it. The provost, in short, was a lively, pert, good-natured, bustling little body with a reasonably high opinion of his own importance, and most especially of the dignity of the office which he filled. If, however, any one should associate with the occupant of this office any aristocratic notions of gentility, birth, education or accomplishments, they would be sadly out in the case of Mr. Clapperton, who was, in truth, just as homespun a provost as you might readily meet with anywhere. The worthy magistrate had had little or no education. His birth was as humble as could well be, and, as to gentility and accomplishments, we verily believe he did not know what the words meant. At any rate, he had none of them, and never dreamt of pretend ing to them. Plain in his habits, plain although substantial in his living, plain in his manners and plain in his dress-all proceeding from a natural homeliness and simplicity of character-Provost Clapperton exhibited no outward indications of his greatness, but, on the contrary, looked fully as much like a chief butler as a chief magistrate.

Having thus described as well as we can the person, manners, disposition, etc., of our worthy civic dignitary, we revert to the circumstance with which our story openednamely, his proposal of an address of congratulation to His Majesty Charles II. on the occasion of his restoration to the throne of his ancestors.

Now, with regard to this

address we will not say that the idea of getting up such a thing was not one proceeding from the genuine feeling of Provost Clapperton's heart, from his affection to his sovereign and from a sincere joy at his once more filling the regal chair, but it is certain. that it accorded marvellously with certain views on a certain subject entertained by no less a personage than his wife-that is to say, it accorded so far with these views as to promise being a likely means of their accomplishment. But this affair will be best explained by quoting a conversation which took place between the worthy provost and his better half as they sat together and alone one night by the fire talking over various domestic and other matters previous to retiring to bed. It occurred before the provost made the celebrated proposition in council to which we have already more than once alluded.

"Davy man," said Mrs. Clapperton, "if ye had been worth yer lugs, ye micht hae dune something for the honor o' the family since ye were made a provost. Ye micht hae made me a leddy, Davy. Noo yer time 'ill sune be oot, and a' yer glory ill pass awa' like the last flicker o' a fardin' cannle."

"I mean, Davy, that ye micht hae got yersel' made a knicht if ye had been half clever,” replied Mrs. Clapperton. "There's been twa provosts o' this burgh knichted, and deil a ane can tell for what; for they never did onything in their lives that was fairly worth thrippence for either Kirk or State, unless it was gaun up to Lunnun wi' a screed o' loyalty and zeal in their pouches frae the toon, whilk they ca'ed an address, to your late king, Charles I., whan he was in his diffeeculties, puir man! Confound a thing else they ever did, for they war baith feckless bodies wi' nae mair gumption in them than's in an oyster.'

During the delivery of this speech, which he neither by word nor deed attempted to interrupt, the provost kept looking steadily at the fire and twirling his thumbs round each other. He was thinking profoundly, and that, too, on ideas suggested by and in accordance with his wife's remarks. The notion of aspiring to knighthood had never struck him before, but now that it was presented to him it excited the stirrings of ambition within him and appeared before his mind's eye of a very engaging and comely aspect. But how was it to be obtained? There was the difficulty. The worthy provost felt that he had never done anything to warrant him in aspiring to so high an honor, and he felt, moreover, that he in all likelihood never would or could do anything to deserve it; and it was under this feeling that he at length spoke, premising with an affected undervaluing of his fitness to be invested with such a dignity.

"Mak' a knicht o' me, Peggy!" he said. Mak' a knicht o' a dealer in stockin's and comforters-a dealer in stockin's and com

forters! I doot that wad be considered rather degradin' to the order-degradin' to the order, Peggy.'

"And what for suld it, Davy?" replied his ambitious spouse. "What for no mak' you a knicht as weel as blin' Tammy Craig, the haberdasher, wha was provost o' Starvieston in the year o' God saxteen thretty-aught, or doited Archy Manderston, the cheesemonger, wha was provost in forty-twa? I'm sure such a pair as thae war to mak' knichts o' never was seen, and yet knichts they war made, Gude save the mark!"

"Ay, but, guidwife, they did something for the honor did something for the honor. Mind that-mind that, guidwife."

"Did something for the honor'!" repeated Mrs. Clapperton, in a tone of the utmost contempt. What did they do but gang up to Lunnun, as I said before, wi' a screed o' loyalty in their pouches? Not a thing else either o' them ever did that was worth a sheep's trotter."

But even that, guidwife, even that," replied the provost, who seemed to state objections merely to have them obviated, "I hae nae opportunity o' doin'. There's nae ca' 'enow for addresses to the throne-nae ca' 'enow, nae ca' 'enow."

"Nae ca'!" repeated Mrs. Clapperton. "I just think there never was a better—the king's restoration. Get ye up, Davy, an' ye tak' my advice. A palaver aboot the joy an' satisfaction o' the magistrates an' inhabitants at large o' Starvieston at the restoration o' His Most Gracious Majesty to the throne, and get ye the carryin' o't up to Lunnun an' the thing's dune. Ye'll come doon a knicht as sure's your name's Davy Clapperton."