March 8.
Mr.
Webster spoke yesterday; and (can you believe it?) he is a fallen star!—Lucifer
descending from heaven! We all had the greatest confidence in him. He has
disappointed us all. Within a week, I have said, many times, that he had an
historic character to preserve and maintain, which must be more to him than any
temporary advantage. His intellectual life has been one great epic, and now he
has given a vile catastrophe to its closing pages. He has walked for years
among the gods, to descend from the empyrean heights, and mingle with mimes and
apes! I am overwhelmed. There is a very strong feeling here among the Whigs of
the New England delegation; and we shall do what we can still to uphold our
cause.
It is a terrible
battle. Not balls of lead or copper strike their victim down, but, I fear,
those of gold, or what some men value more than gold,—the possession of office.
But Mr. Webster never can be President of the United States; never, never! He
will lose two friends at the North where he will gain one at the South.
SOURCE: Mary Tyler
Peabody Mann, Life of Horace Mann, p. 293
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