While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise! God grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind!

When my eyes1 shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign2 of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies3 streaming in their original luster, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured; bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as "What is all this worth?" nor those other words of delusion and folly, "Liberty first, and Union afterwards; " but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart, - Liberty and Union, now and for ever, one and inseparable!

1 When my eyes, etc. Analyze | plain, and point out how the details this sentence. are afterwards amplified.

2 the gorgeous ensign, etc. Ex

3 trophies. See Webster.

3. THE MURDER OF MR. WHITE.

[The argument from which this famous passage is taken was made to the jury (August, 1830) at a special session of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, held in Salem, for the trial of John F. and Joseph J. Knapp, charged with participating in the murder of Captain Joseph White. The murder was actually committed by one Richard Crowninshield, who had been hired by the Knapps to do it for $1,000. While Crowninshield and the Knapps were in prison awaiting trial, J. J. Knapp, under a pledge of indemnity, made a full confession of the whole affair; and Crowninshield, having heard of this confession, soon after committed suicide in the prison. Knapp thereupon withdrew his confession, and refused to testify in the trial. This released the other party from the pledge; and then J. F. Knapp was indicted as principal in the murder, and his brother as an accessory. Both of the Knapps were convicted of the crime, and executed. Webster was engaged by the prosecuting officers of the State to aid them in the case.]

I AM little accustomed, gentlemen, to the part which I am now attempting to perform.1 Hardly more thar once or twice has it happened to me to be concerned on the side of the government in any criminal prose2 cution whatever; and never, until the present occasion, in any case affecting life.

But I very much regret that it should have been thought necessary to suggest to you, that I am brought here to "hurry you against the law and beyond the evidence."3 I hope I have too much regard for justice, and too much respect for my own character, to attempt

1 the part . plain.

perform. Ex- of the counsel for the prisoner (Mr. Dexter, an eminent lawyer) complained that Webster had been brought there "to hurry the jury against the law and beyond the

2 on the side... government. The last sentence of the introductory note explains this.

3 hurry you... evidence. One evidence."

either; and, were I to make such attempt, I am sure that in this court nothing can be carried against the law, and that gentlemen, intelligent and just as you are, are not, by any power, to be hurried beyond the evidence. Though I could well have wished to shun this occasion, I have not felt at liberty to withhold my professional assistance, when it is supposed that I may be in some degree useful in investigating and discovering the truth respecting this most extraordinary murder. It has seemed to be a duty incumbent on me, as on every other citizen, to do my best and my utmost to bring to light the perpetrators of this crime.

Against the prisoner at the bar, as an individual, I can not have the slightest prejudice.1 I would not do him the smallest injury or injustice. But I do not affect2 to be indifferent to the discovery and the punishment of this deep guilt. I cheerfully share in the opprobrium, how much soever it may be, which is cast on those who feel and manifest an anxious concern that all who had a part in planning or a hand in executing this deed of midnight assassination may be brought to answer for their enormous crime at the bar of public justice.

This is a most extraordinary case. In some respects it has hardly a precedent anywhere, certainly none in our New-England history. This bloody drama exhibited no suddenly excited, ungovernable rage. actors in it were not surprised by any lion-like temptation springing upon their virtue, and overcoming it

1 Against... prejudice. Change into the direct order of words.

2 affect, pretend.

3 opprobrium, reproach.

The

before resistance could begin. Nor did they do the deed to glut savage vengeance, or satiate long-settled and deadly hate. It was a cool, calculating, moneymaking murder. It was all "hire and salary, not revenge." It was the weighing of money against life; the counting out of so many pieces of silver 2 against so many ounces of blood.

An aged man, without an enemy in the world, in his own house, and in his own bed, is made the victim of a butcherly murder for mere pay. Truly, here is a new lesson for painters and poets. Whoever shall hereafter draw the portrait of murder, if he will show it as it has been exhibited in an example, where such example was last to have been looked for, in the very bosom of our New-England society, let him not give it the grim visage of Moloch, the brow knitted by revenge, the face black with settled hate, and the bloodshot eye emitting livid fires of malice. Let him draw, rather, a decorous, smooth-faced, bloodless demon; a picture in repose, rather than in action; not so much an example of human nature in its depravity, and in its paroxysms of crime, as an infernal nature, a fiend 5 in the ordinary display and development of his character.

The deed was executed with a degree of self-possession and steadiness equal to the wickedness with which

1 The actors... begin. Point | monites, to whom human sacriout a vivid expression in this sen- fices were offered in the valley of tence. Tophet.

it was planned. The circumstances, now clearly in evidence, spread out the whole scene before us. Deep sleep had fallen on the destined victim,' and on all beneath his roof. A healthful old man, to whom sleep was sweet, the first sound slumbers of the night held him in their soft but strong embrace. The assassin enters through the window, already prepared, into an unoccupied apartment. With noiseless foot he paces3 the lonely hall, half-lighted by the moon; he winds up the ascent of the stairs, and reaches the door of the chamber. Of this, he moves the lock by soft and continued pressure till it turns on its hinges without noise; and he enters, and beholds his victim before him. The room was uncommonly open to the admission of light. The face of the innocent sleeper was turned from the murderer, and the beams of the moon, resting on the gray iocks of his aged temple, showed him where to strike. The fatal blow is given! and the victim passes, without a struggle or a motion, from the repose of sleep to the repose of death!

It is the assassin's purpose to make sure work; and he yet plies the dagger, though it was obvious that life had been destroyed by the blow of the bludgeon. He even raises the aged arm, that he may not fail in his aim at the heart; and replaces it again over the wounds

1 victim. See Webster.

2 The assassin enters. Note the vivid effect produced by the use of the present tense, the "historical present." examples.

3 paces. Would treads be better here?

4 The face ... strike. Observe the wonderfully graphic manner Point out subsequent in which the scene is reproduced. 5 plies the dagger. Explain.