promoter of science
and the arts; always kind to scholars and literary men, and
greatly beloved by them all; friendly to all the institutions
of religion, morality, and education; and an unwavering and
determined supporter of the constitution of his country, and of
those great principles of civil liberty which it is so well
calculated to uphold and advance. These sentiments I inscribe
here in accordance with my best judgment, and out of the
fulness of my heart: and I wish here to record, also, my deep
sense of the many personal obligations under which you have
placed me in the course of our long acquaintance. Your ever
faithful friend,

DANIEL WEBSTER."

Should this dedication, truly as it portrays the excellent character of
the person to whom it was addressed, seem to be redundant and
overstated, let us remember that the writer, feeble and sorrowful, was
penning his last words to his old and perhaps best friend, and its very
extravagance at once assumes a childish pathos. The critical eye as it
scans the record becomes dim with the sympathetic tear, and reads
between the blurred lines only the passionate tribute of a broken
spirit.

In the ample stairway of the Boston Athenaeum hang portraits of the two
men,--that of Colonel Perkins, painted by Sully in 1833, is an
exceedingly graceful presentation, and represents him at full length,
carefully dressed, and seated in an easy attitude. The accessories are
skilfully introduced, especially the large and exquisitely shaped china
pitcher, which doubtless represents some gift received through his
commercial relations with the East. The picture of Mr. Webster, also
full length, was painted by Harding in 1849, and is an excellent
likeness as well as a painting of much merit, though lacking the
charming qualities of the other portrait.

During these sixty-eight years, great changes have come upon the little
village of Gloucester, now grown to a city of more than twenty thousand
people; its houses, then few and rude, have increased in number till the
rocky hills are covered almost to their summits with the neat dwellings
of its still hardy and adventurous population.

The old wind-mill, from whose vicinity our friends saw the monster
snake, has given way to a summer hotel, whose occupants look out upon
the beautiful bay and watch the incoming and outgoing of the fishing
fleet of five hundred staunch schooners, ma