humor brought the frightened child into Mr. Webster's arms, and they were
friends and playmates in an instant.

The power of a look and of changing expression, so magical with a child,
was hardly less so with men. There have been very few instances in history
where there is such constant reference to merely physical attributes as in
the case of Mr. Webster. His general appearance and his eyes are the first
and last things alluded to in every contemporary description. Every one is
familiar with the story of the English navvy who pointed at Mr. Webster in
the streets of Liverpool and said, "There goes a king." Sidney Smith
exclaimed when he saw him, "Good heavens, he is a small cathedral by
himself." Carlyle, no lover of America, wrote to Emerson:--

"Not many days ago I saw at breakfast the notablest of all your
notabilities, Daniel Webster. He is a magnificent specimen. You
might say to all the world, 'This is our Yankee Englishman; such
limbs we make in Yankee land!' As a logic fencer, or parliamentary
Hercules, one would incline to back him at first sight against all
the extant world. The tanned complexion; that amorphous crag-like
face; the dull black eyes under the precipice of brows, like dull
anthracite furnaces needing only to be _blown_; the mastiff mouth
accurately closed; I have not traced so much of _silent Berserkir
rage_ that I remember of in any man. 'I guess I should not like to
be your nigger!' Webster is not loquacious, but he is pertinent,
conclusive; a dignified, perfectly bred man, though not English in
breeding; a man worthy of the best reception among us, and meeting
such I understand."

Such was the effect produced by Mr. Webster when in England, and it was a
universal impression. Wherever he went men felt in the depths of their