Daniel Webster | Page 6

of which he was always so proud and so
fond. The instruction there was of good quality enough, but it was
meagre in quantity and of limited range, compared to what is offered by
most good high schools of the present day. In the reminiscences of his
fellow-students there is abundant material for a picture of Webster at
that time. He was recognized by all as the foremost man in the college,
as easily first, with no second. Yet at the same time Mr. Webster was
neither a student nor a scholar in the truest sense of the words. He read
voraciously all the English literature he could lay his hands on, and
remembered everything he read. He achieved familiarity with Latin and
with Latin authors, and absorbed a great deal of history. He was the
best general scholar in the college. He was not only not deficient but he
showed excellence at recitation in every branch of study. He could
learn anything if he tried. But with all this he never gained more than a
smattering of Greek and still less of mathematics, because those studies
require, for anything more than a fair proficiency, a love of knowledge
for its own sake, a zeal for learning incompatible with indolence, and a
close, steady, and disinterested attention. These were not the
characteristics of Mr. Webster's mind. He had a marvellous power of
rapid acquisition, but he learned nothing unless he liked the subject and
took pleasure in it or else was compelled to the task. This is not the
stuff from which the real student, with an original or inquiring mind, is
made. It is only fair to say that this estimate, drawn from the opinions
of his fellow-students, coincided with his own, for he was too
large-minded and too clear-headed to have any small vanity or conceit
in judging himself. He said soon after he left college, and with perfect
truth, that his scholarship was not remarkable, nor equal to what he was
credited with. He explained his reputation after making this confession
by saying that he read carefully, meditated on what he had read, and
retained it so that on any subject he was able to tell all he knew to the
best advantage, and was careful never to go beyond his depth. There is
no better analysis of Mr. Webster's strongest qualities of mind than this
made by himself in reference to his college standing. Rapid acquisition,
quick assimilation of ideas, an iron memory, and a wonderful power of
stating and displaying all he knew characterized him then as in later life.
The extent of his knowledge and the range of his mind, not the depth or
soundness of his scholarship, were the traits which his companions

remembered. One of them says that they often felt that he had a more
extended understanding than the tutors to whom he recited, and this
was probably true. The Faculty of the college recognized in Webster
the most remarkable man who had ever come among them, but they
could not find good grounds to award him the prizes, which, by his
standing among his fellows, ought by every rule to have been at his feet.
He had all the promise of a great man, but he was not a fine scholar.
He was studious, punctual, and regular in all his habits. He was so
dignified that his friends would as soon have thought of seeing
President Wheelock indulge in boyish disorders as of seeing him. But
with all his dignity and seriousness of talk and manner, he was a
thoroughly genial companion, full of humor and fun and agreeable
conversation. He had few intimates, but many friends. He was
generally liked as well as universally admired, was a leader in the
college societies, active and successful in sports, simple, hearty,
unaffected, without a touch of priggishness and with a wealth of
wholesome animal spirits.
But in these college days, besides the vague feeling of students and
professors that they had among them a very remarkable man, there is a
clear indication that the qualities which afterwards raised him to fame
and power were already apparent, and affected the little world about
him. All his contemporaries of that time speak of his eloquence. The
gift of speech, the unequalled power of statement, which were born in
him, just like the musical tones of his voice, could not be repressed.
There was no recurrence of the diffidence of Exeter. His native genius
led him irresistibly along the inevitable path. He loved to speak, to hold
the attention of a listening audience. He practised off-hand speaking,
but he more commonly prepared himself by meditating on his subject
and making notes, which, however, he never used. He would enter the
class-room or debating society and