Hardin felt all this. "It is a melancholy reflection," said he in Congress, "to see and know how much a man's fame and reputation in this House is made to depend upon the attention or neglect of the reporters of the debates, or upon their whims and caprices, or their good or bad feelings toward the speaker or the cause he is advocating. The public good, however, requires their attendance here, and we must bear with them as a necessary evil."

These illustrations of Mr. Hardin's powers of thought and force of expression could be indefinitely extended. Some of them are common-place, and others express principles and sentiments open to criticism. Yet, so he thought and spoke-and from these fragments, measure may be taken of the intellectual proportions of the man.

CHAPTER XXXV.

M

PERSONAL TRAITS.

R. HARDIN was of striking personal appearance. Stalwart is the one word that most nearly describes him.

His head was unusually inclining to droop, givHe was not only broad Ears and nose large, the

He was full six feet in height, of large bone and frame, but not fleshy. "He did not appear," said one who knew him in 1851, "to be a tall man, but he was strongly made, and had evidently been a powerful man, physically, in earlier life." Prior to his fiftieth year, he was erect, but about that period, from habits of study and inclining his head in deep reflection, he acquired a decided stoop in the shoulders. His complexion was fair, and reddened by exposure; hair light and reddish in hue— fine in texture and worn rather short for that period, and loosely thrown from the broad and high forehead. large and well set on his shoulders—the latter ing the neck apparently increased length. shouldered, but thick and round chested. latter hinting at neighborship with the firm-set chin. In his profile there was a decided suggestion of Knickerbocker caricatures. The nose was long, slightly aquiline, and when in a speech he paused and pressed the end to one side with his thumb-it seemed to share in the humor that twinkled in the eye. Eyebrows slightly bushy and projecting over the clearest and keenest of grayish blue eyes, which many, in describing their penetrating power, called "goose" eyes. Thin lips of a rather large mouth bespoke an iron will about the corners. The full development of the lower part of the face betokened strength and firmness-physical and intellectual. Mr. Webb, who from childhood had known Mr. Hardin, says:

"In person he was tall, and as I first remember him, straight and active. Afterward-from 1836-he walked with a confirmed stoop. He was of a spare physique, with much angularity in his general make-up, including his features. He was careless in respect to dress, and in general appearance slip-shod. His face was thoughtful at all times, and rarely vivacious.”*

In early life, the habitual expression of his face was confident, placid humor, but later, in moments of reflection, it wore a saddened

Letter to Author.

thoughtfulness. Yet always, when in conversation, none was more genial in look and manner. His face was capable of a wonderful variety of expression. To strangers, he seemed austere, but was really not so, except to the impertinent and foppish. In his early life, it was the fashion of Western hunters and farmers to wear no coat, but instead a short outer garment of the pea-jacket type. This fashion still prevails among the elite of Mexican caballeros. Mr. Hardin was long addicted to this mode of dress. Ex-President Buchanan spoke of seeing him on one occasion, at an early period of life, thus arrayed at Elizabethtown, the material of his apparel being linen, of home manufacture. In later life, he habitually wore blue dress-coats, with brass buttons, varying his other wardrobe with the season. While his garments were of the best material, they were not always unexceptionable in style or fitting. But his favorite tailor. was an old friend, from whose taste he never appealed. A new garment on him quickly assumed the appearance of age, but he did not discard a faithful friend because of loss of good looks. One who remembers him well, says: "As to shoes, he preferred comfort to shapely tightness." Because his wrist-bands were often unbuttoned, and his shoes untied, he has had an exaggerated posthumous reputation for slouchiness altogether undeserved. Foppishness was his aversion, and he was fond of antagonizing it; but in person and habits, he observed that cleanliness that one with the instincts of a gentleman can never lay aside.

It was very much a matter of course that Mr. Hardin's habits, disposition, and tastes should undergo modification in the course of life from youth to age. In youth, he was fond of manly sports requiring physical strength, skill, and activity, such as running, jumping, wrestling, and throwing, and in these surpassed. He loved hunting and fishing, especially the latter. He always kept himself supplied with fish-gigs, seines, and bird-nets. He was an excellent marksman. His taste for these sports he retained to the last. It is related that he would take his negro servants and go seining in the Beech Fork, a small tributary of Salt river that ran through his lands, supplying not only himself, but his neighbors, with abundance of the delightful fish that then stocked those waters.

His ardor in pursuits requiring physical exertion was not only abated by increasing years, but, also, by an injury to his right hand, received in middle life. He was one day in a " clearing" on his farm, busily engaged in burning log heaps and brush, with a view of pre

Lord Macaulay resembled Mr. Hardin in this respect.

BEN HARDIN'S MILL, ON STEWART'S CREEK, NEAR BARDSTOWN.

paring the ground for cultivation. While thus occupied some negro laborers were felling trees. A tree being about to fall, he was warned to get out of the way, but, not heeding in time, was caught beneath the falling branches. For a while he was insensible, and it was feared he was killed. On returning to consciousness his first observation was that "he got out of the way, but the d-d tree turned and followed him." He was severely bruised, but the most serious injury was a broken hand. The bones of the right hand were so fractured as that his fingers were stiffened, and, to a great extent, rendered useless. Ever afterward in writing he thrust his pen between his crippled fingers, removing it with his left hand to get ink and replacing it again.*

He was of wonderful physical endurance. He went in professional pursuits from county to county, often traveling from forty to fifty miles per day; and these journeys were constantly made in all seasons and weather, and always on horseback, and for great part of the year over wretched roads.

He was cheerful and hopeful always. He was discouraged by no obstacle, difficulty, or labor. He seemed to feel himself equal to any emergency. He had that mainspring of all great men-indomitable will. He was tenacious of purpose, and on whatever he had determined, he rallied every energy and resource of his powerful nature. "I never saw my father despondent," says his daughter,† "save on the occasion of the death of his children." But from these sorrows he quickly roused himself, deeming it unbefitting the dignity of life to brood over griefs to which all were subject. Yet late in life his highest pleasure was in recalling and talking of the memory of his precious dead.

He was self-reliant and self-possessed, and enjoyed the full exercise of his faculties in emergencies. His powers of observation and perception were of a rare order. His mental vision and apprehension were clear and strong in their grasp. He was extremely perspicuous in statement and easily heard and comprehended. His mind may be compared to a locomotive at night in one respect; it illuminated the track before it. His hearers had a sensation of having anticipated what he was uttering.

"There were things about him." writes Ken Chapeze Esq.. son of Mr. Hardin's distinguished contemporary (Ben Chapeze), "that marked him to

*In his speech in R. Logan Wickliffe's case, Mr. Hardin gave a different account, but this, like many other "facts" referred to on that occasion, received the pleasing adornments of a lively fancy. Mrs. Kate Riley.