Albert Beveridge: “Others eat the Clay--the Lime--the Stones--of the Prison Walls.”

What a gloom will spread over the nation when he is gone!

To Marshall reared--the great, the good, the wise; Born for all ages, honored in all skies; His was the fame to mortals rarely given, Begun on earth, but fixed in aim on heaven.

Genius, and learning, and consummate skill, Moulding each thought, obedient to the will; Affections pure, as e'er warmed human breast, And love, in blessing others, doubly blest; Virtue unspotted, uncorrupted truth, Gentle in age, and…

That time, however, is unquestionably arrived, and every oppression now exercised on a helpless people depending on our magnanimity and justice for the preservation of their existence impresses a deep stain on the American character.