ing accepted, he immediately employed the whole vigor of his mind to attain the mastery of all their multifarious duties. That he fully accomplished his purposes can be no surprise to those, who knew him. Such was his intellectual capacity and discrimination, that what he had the wish to acquire cost him far less than any other man. The readiness, with which he received knowledge, seemed, at times, almost like instantaneous inspiration. He did not often choose to engage in laborious inquiries; but he had the necessary firmness and perseverance to attain whatever was essential to his ambition or public duties.

Towards the close of Mr. Adams's administration, he was offered. a foreign embassy, which he declined; and upon the accession of Mr. Jefferson to the presidency, he resigned his public employments, and returned to the practice of the law with unabated zeal. From this period he engaged less in political controversies; and reserved himself principally for professional or theological researches. He had always accustomed himself to an independence of thinking upon all subjects, legal, political, and religious. He subscribed to no man's creed, and dealt in the dogmas of the school of no master; but he examined, and weighed, and decided every thing for himself. He observed, or thought he observed, that parties were gradually changing their policy and principles; and, on this account, he seems to have felt less desire to engage in controversies, where his judgment and political friendships might not always be reconcilable. On two memorable occasions, which are yet fresh in our recollections, he took an active political part. I refer to his opposition to the embargo and non-intercourse system, and his support of the late war. But, except in these instances, he rarely, if ever, appeared, after his return to the bar, as the strenuous advocate or opposer of any of the great political measures, which agitated the nation. It was not that he looked on with indifference, or sought to evade responsibility by equivocation or reserve. On the contrary, he was always frank, communicative, and decided. But his judgment was so little in unison with the wishes of any party, that he expressed his opinions, rather as guides of his own conduct, than from a hope to influence others. He was as incapable of deceiving others, as he was of deceiving himself; and would rather surrender the popularity of a whole life, than submit his own. judgment to any sect in church or state.

It is not unusual for men of eminence, after having withdrawn a few years from the bar, to find it difficult, if not impracticable, to

resume their former rank in business. Nothing of this sort occurred, to check the progress of Mr. Dexter. He was immediately engaged in almost all the important causes in our highest courts; and popular favor seemed to have increased, rather than diminished, during his temporary retirement. From the triumphs and victories of the state bar, his reputation soon carried him to the Supreme Court of the United States, where it has been my pride and pleasure, for many years, to see him holding his career in the foremost rank of advocates. This would entitle him to no ordinary praise; for that bar has been long distinguished by the presence of many of the most illustrious lawyers in the Union.

In no situation have the admirable talents of Mr. Dexter appeared with more unclouded lustre, than in his attendance on the Supreme Court at Washington. For several years he passed the winters there, under engagements in many of the most important causes. Rarely did he speak without attracting an audience composed of the taste, the beauty, the wit, and the learning, that adorned the city; and never was he heard without instruction and delight. On some occasions, involuntary tears from the whole audience have testified the touching power of his eloquence and pathos. On others, a profound and breathless silence expressed, more forcibly than any human language, the rivetted attention of an hundred minds. I well remember with what appropriate felicity he undertook, in one cause, to analyze the sources of patriotism. I wish it were possible to preserve the whole in the language, in which it was delivered. No one, who heard him describe the influence of local scenery upon the human heart, but felt his soul dissolve within him. I can recall but imperfectly a single passage; and, stripped of its natural connexion, it affords but a glimmering of its original brightness. "We love not our country," said the orator, "from a blind and unmeaning attachment, simply because it is the place of our birth. It is the scene of our earliest joys and sorrows. Every spot has become consecrated by some youthful sport, some tender friendship, some endearing affection, some reverential feeling. It is associated with all our moral habits, our principles, and our virtues. The very sod seems almost a part of ourselves, for there are entombed the bones of our ancestors. Even the dark valley of the shadow of death is not without its consolations, for we pass it in company with our friends." In a still more recent instance, and, indeed, in one of the last causes he ever argued, he took the occasion of an appropriate discussion, to expound his

own views of the constitution, and, dropping the character of an advocate, to perform the paramount duty of a citizen. He seemed, as if giving his parting advice and benedictions to his country, and as if he had worked up his mind to a mighty effort to vindicate those solid maxims of government and policy, by which alone the union of the states can be upheld and perpetuated. It is deeply to be regretted, that his just and elevated views are now confined to the frail memories of those, who heard him.

In the spring of 1815, Mr. Dexter was requested by President Madison to accept an extraordinary mission to the court of Spain; but, from a reluctance to go abroad, he declined the appointment.

During the last winter, Mr. Dexter was, for a few days, afflicted with the epidemic prevailing at Washington; and was once compelled, from indisposition, to stop in the argument of a cause. He had, however, entirely recovered, and never seemed in better health. On his return from Washington, he went, with his family, to Athens, in the state of New York, to assist in the celebration of the nuptials of his son. He arrived there on Tuesday, the thirtieth of April, somewhat unwell; but no serious alarm for his safety existed until the day previous to his death. Finding his dissolution approaching, he gave the proper directions respecting his affairs, and prepared to meet his fate with the calmness of a Christian philosopher. He could look back on a life devoted to virtuous pursuits without reproach, and his regrets could only be for his family and his country. About midnight, on Friday, the third of May, he lost his senses; and, in three hours afterwards, he expired in the arms of his family, without a struggle or a groan. Such was the life and such the death of Mr. Dexter. I forbear to give a minute account of the literary honors, which he received, and of the public institutions, of which he was a member. I am aware, how little I am qualified for the office of his biographer; but I have this consolation, that he needs no other panegyric but truth. I will close these hasty sketches with a few remarks on his person, character, manners, and acquirements.

In his person, Mr. Dexter was tall, and well formed; of strong, well defined features, and bold, muscular proportions. His manners were, at a first interview, reserved and retiring; and this was sometimes mistaken by a careless observer for austerity or pride. But this impression vanished on a farther acquaintance; and it was soon perceived, that, though he made no effort to court popularity, he was frank, manly, and accessible; and at the bar conciliatory and

respectful. His countenance was uncommonly striking; and yet, perhaps, scarcely gave at once the character of his mind. Unless awakened by strong interests, his features relaxed into a repose, which betrayed little of his intellectual grandeur. In such situations his eyes had a tranquil mildness, which seemed better suited to an habitual indolence of temperament, than to fervid thoughts. Yet a curious observer might read in his face the traces of a contemplative mind, sometimes lost in reveries, and sometimes devoted to the most intense abstractions of metaphysics. When roused into action, his features assumed a new aspect. A steady stream of light emanated from his eyes, the muscles of his face swelled with emotion, and a slight flush chafed his pallid cheeks. His enunciaation was remarkably slow, distinct, and musical; though the intonations of his voice were sometimes too monotonous. His language was plain, but pure and well selected; and, though his mind was stored with poetic images, he rarely indulged himself in ornaments of any kind. If a rhetorical illustration, or striking metaphor sometimes adorned his speeches, they seemed the spontaneous burst of his genius, produced without effort, and dismissed without regret. They might, indeed, be compared to those spots of beautiful verdure, which are scattered here and there in Alpine regions, amidst the dazzling whiteness of surround ug snows. In the exordiums of his speeches he was rarely happy. It seemed the first exercise of a mind struggling to break its slumbers, or to control the torrent of its thoughts. As he advanced, he became collected, forcible, and argumentative; and his perorations were uniformly grand and impressive. They were often felt, when they could not be followed.

Such was the general character of his delivery. But it would be a great mistake to suppose, because his principal favorite was ratiocination, that his delivery was cold, tame, or uninteresting. I am persuaded, that nature had given him uncommon strength of passions. The natural characteristics of his mind were fervor and force; and, left to the mere workings of his own genius, he would have been impetuous and vehement. But he seemed early to have assumed the mastery of his mind; to have checked its vivid movements by habitual discipline; and bound his passions in the adamantine chains of logic and reasoning. The dismissal of the graces of fancy and of picturesque description were with him a matter of choice, and not of necessity. He resigned them, as Hercules resigned pleasure, not because he was insensible of its charms, but

because he was more enamoured of wisdom. Yet, as if to show his native powers, he has sometimes let loose the enthusiasm of his genius, and touched with a master's hand every chord of the passions, and alternately astonished, delighted, and melted his hearers. Something of the same effect has been produced by, what may be fitly termed, the moral sublimity of his reasoning. He opened his arguments in a progressive order, erecting each successive position upon some other, whose solid mass he had already established on an immovable foundation, till at last the superstructure seemed, by its height and ponderous proportions, to bid defiance to the assaults of human ingenuity. I am aware, that these expressions may be deemed the exaggerations of fancy; but I only describe what I have felt on my own mind; and I gather from others, that I have not been singular in my feelings.

erence.

It would be invidious to compare Mr. Dexter with other illustrious men of our country, either living or dead. In general acquirements he was unquestionably inferior to many; and even in professional science he could scarcely be considered, as very profound, or very learned. He had a disinclination to the pages of black-lettered law, which he sometimes censured as the scholastic refinements of monkish ages; and even for the common branches of technical science, the doctrines of special pleading, and the niceties of feudal tenures, he professed to feel little of love or revHis delight was to expatiate in the elements of jurisprudence, and to analyze and combine the great principles of equity and reason, which distinguish the branches of maritime law. In commercial causes, therefore, he shone with peculiar advantage. His comprehensive mind was familiar with all the leading distinctions of this portion of law; and he marked out, with wonderful sagacity and promptitude, the almost evanescent boundaries, which sometimes separate its principles. Indeed it may be truly said of him, that he could walk a narrow isthmus between opposing doctrines, where no man dared to follow him. The law of prize and of nations were also adapted to his faculties; and no one, who heard him upon these topics, but was compelled to confess, that, if he was not always convincing, he was always ingenious; and that, when he attempted to shake a settled rule, though he might be wrong upon authority and practice, he was rarely wrong upon the principles of international justice.

In short, there have been men more thoroughly imbued with all the fine tinctures of classic taste; men of more playful and culti