To no one has she

verdict. I will abide by their answer. appeared as the criminal, save to those who conduct and inspire the prosecution. To all others in your midst she has presented the sad spectacle of calamity and misery. Her purity, her gentleness, her guileless truth, shinning out in every word and act, have won to her side in this dark hour, your oldest, your best, and most honored citizens. Her prison abode has been brightened by the presence of the noblest and purest of her own sex, and delicate flowers from the loftiest station in the world have mingled their odor with the breath of her captivity.

"Men venerable in years, and strong in their convictions of the principles of immutable right, have been drawn to her assistance by an instinctive obedience to the voice of God commanding them to succor the weak, lift up the fallen, and alleviate the distress of innocence. And now for Mary Harris, and in the name of Him who showered his blessings on the merciful, who spoke the parable of the Samaritan, who gave the promise to those who feed and clothe the stranger at their gates, and who visit the sick and them that are in prison, I thank the people of the Capital. Add one more obligation for her to remember, until the grave opens to hide her from the world. It is in your hands to grant. The law, in its grave majesty, approves the act. The evidence with an unbroken voice demands it. Your own hearts press forward to the discharge of a most gracious duty. The hour is almost at hand for its performance. Unlock the door of her prison, and bid her bathe her throbbing brow once more in the healing air of liberty. Let your verdict be the champion of law, of morality, of science. Let it vindicate civilization and humanity, justice and

mercy.

Appealing to the Searcher of all hearts, to that Omnipresent eye which beholds every secret thought, for the integrity of my motives in the conduct of this cause,

and for the sincerity of my belief in the principles which I have announced, I now, with unwavering confidence in the triumph of innocence, surrender all into your hands."

The power of Mr. Voorhees before a jury, consists in his inimitable sympathy with the case of his client; he is able to make the most passive individual shudder or, if necessary, he can become as tender and compassionate as a maiden, whose soul has been thrilled with its first breath of love. His style varies with the case for which he pleads-now vehement, now soft-and his voice and gestures becoming to the nature of his subject. Much that he has spoken to the jury in his celebrated cases is unparalleled for its beauty and force, within the whole range of forensic eloquence.

DANIEL WEBSTER.

THE

HE ancestors of this distinguished jurist and statesman settled on the coast of New Hampshire a short time after the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth Rock. His father, Ebenezer Webster, in consequence of the primitiveness of the region where he lived, was of the same hardy mould as our famous frontiersmen of the last generation. His appearance, as described forty years ago by those who then remembered him well, was that, "he was erect, of athletic stature, six feet high, broad and full in the chest."

In his youth he enlisted as a soldier in a famous company of Rangers, in which he did excellent service under Sir Jeffrey Amherst and Wolfe in the Revolutionary War, rising to the rank of Captain before its close. When the end of the long conflict came, grants of land were given in the remote wilderness of the Merimac river, and Captain Webster received his allotment, settled down, and there on the 18th of January, 1782, his distinguished son, Daniel, was born.

In a speech delivered at Saratoga, New York, in 1840, Daniel Webster thus feelingly alluded to the place of his birth:

"It did not happen to me to be born in a log-cabin, but my elder brothers and sisters were born in a logcabin amid the snow-drifts of New Hampshire, at a period so early that, when the smoke first rose from its rude chimney, and curled over the frozen hills, there was no similar evidence of a white man's habitation between