tradition, were exceedingly caustic. Mr. Clay's inconsistency afforded an opportunity which the most unaggressive would have let slip with reluctance. To Mr. Hardin it was irresistible. In what manner the occasion was improved is left to conjecture. The report says little more than that he "delivered his views at length." Randolph not only endorsed the speaker's views, but having an antipathy to Clay, Hardin's assault on the latter was far from disagreeable.

"Hardin is like a kitchen-knife whetted on a brick," said Randolph, "he cuts roughly, but cuts deep." The bill passed, but the majority in the House, on its final passage, was only nine. The Kentucky delegation were evenly divided.

Says General Preston:

"I once asked Mr. Hardin which he considered the best speech of his life. He said that, so far as he could himself be a judge on such a subject, it was one he made in reply to Mr. Clay in the House of Representatives. Against the measure chartering the United States Bank Mr. Hardin had spoken and voted in opposition to his party friends who followed Mr. Clay, who favored it. After the vote, Mr. Clay indulged in a heated phillipic against Mr. Hardin, charging him with desertion of his party friends. This charge of Mr. Clay produced a great effect on the House, and he determined to give the speech such a reply as it deserved. He said he feigned to be more humiliated and pained than language could express, and indulged, when he came to speak, in many apologies that he did not feel; and having thus propitiated the House and obtained its pity-which he said was necessary to get a good foothold against Clay, not for purposes of invective, but of ridicule— having achieved this, he then went into the question by what right Mr. Clay constituted himself the speaker's censor or that of any other member of the House. He said that if that were a just title perhaps the Pinckneys, the Randolphs, and others might claim precedence over the fiddler of the Hanover slashes.* He might doubt, in case of contest, whether he ought to award precedence to the member of the Fayette district. At this point both sides of the House broke into laughter, to Mr. Clay's intense astonish

ment.

"Finding that he had obtained the favor of the House, he advanced further, and then acknowledged that Mr. Clay was the head man of both Houses of Congress. He made this acknowledgment, he said, in order to place his loyalty beyond doubt. He then approached the central question, which was whether the measure pending was a test of party fidelity. This he treated in a free and bold way, citing Mr. Clay's invocations to independence of thought in acting upon the highest measures. He spoke of how much he admired Mr. Clay for his courage on many occasions, alluding among other things to his mission to England and his course in regard to the Newfound

*Mr. Clay was an accomplished performer on the violin.

land fisheries and the mouths of the Mississippi, and then he left it to the sense of justice of the House if one who was as devoted as himself, who, with the rest of his followers from Kentucky, knew nothing but to vote on all cardinal questions as Mr. Clay dictated, might not claim the right to vote as he thought fit on a matter not involving party principles without having his loyalty questioned. He would not appeal to the justice of the House alone, but to that magnanimity for which the gentlemen had always been distinguished, to allow him a little cooling time until the next day, at least, and he hoped that Mr. Clay would then ask a reconsideration of the matter, so as to allow him a chance to still prove himself loyal by changing his vote.*

"He had a great ovation at the end of his speech, particularly from the opposite party; but his friends advised him not to allow his remarks to be published, and they were accordingly suppressed. Mr. Clay became so enraged that he left the house."

The chief

There was a bill introduced by Colonel R. M. Johnson this session, commonly known afterward as the "Compensation Law." Theretofore members of Congress had received for their services, besides mileage, six dollars per diem. The bill referred to changed this mode of compensation to fifteen hundred dollars per annum. argument for the bill was that six dollars per day were inadequate, yet where the session was protracted members were charged with doing so to obtain their per diem. The measure met with but little outspoken opposition, and was made a law. All the Kentucky delegation voted for it save Mr. Desha, who voted nay. This simple story, like many another, has a sequel which will be related in another chapter.

*This is not meant for a substantial report, but merely a specimen of the tone of his remarks.

CHAPTER VII.

F

AN OLD-TIME SALARY GRAB.

EW congressmen were ever more active, efficient, and influential, during their first session, than had been Mr. Hardin. He had not been restrained by unfamiliarity with parliamentary rules. While not indulging long speeches, he had expressed his views on all proper occasions forcibly and perspicuously. He had acted on the principle that it was his right and duty to promote good, and defeat bad legislation, and that he should be no mute or idle spectator of its progress. He had made himself felt by Clay as an opponent-by Randolph as a friend. He had demonstrated signal ability in the business of legislation, and had taken high rank in Congress when that body, according to Mr. Webster, was at its best in the way of talent.*

The first session of the Fourteenth Congress adjourned April 30, 1816. Mr. Hardin journeyed homeward, conscious that he had made a faithful effort to do his whole duty. The newspapers had reported congressional proceedings, as the session progressed, and reports showed he had been active. He had been accustomed to professional success, and, thus far, his brief political career had been fortunate. Under these circumstances, it was but natural that he should have anticipated the welcome and approving plaudits of his constituents. Indeed, he felt entitled to no less. But, alas! for human hopes, this reasonable expectation was dismally disappointed. On his arrival at home, Mr. Hardin found Kentucky, in common with the whole country, suffering from a fit of consuming wrath, over the passage of the Compensation Law. The center of this excitement. was Kentucky. George D. Prentice said the "demagogues" had stirred this tempest. Doubtless, they had contributed their mite. but it was denounced everywhere, and by all classes. It was the topic of conversation in private circles, and the theme of harangue in popular assemblies. The argument went nem. con. The feeling grew from day to day, and from week to week, until, at length, popular exasperation arose to such a height (if we may trust the hyperbole of Mr. Prentice) that the "habitual and long-cherished reverence for their Daniel Webster, by Henry Cabot Lodge, page 64.

favorite Clay seemed half forgotten by the people, and there was every probability that he would be cast down like a worshiped idol, when its votary has found that the tale of its divinity is but a fable."* This was further illustrated during the heated congressional race that ensued between Clay and Pope ("one-armed" John Pope), by the remark of an Irish voter: "For whom, Jerry, do you mean to vote," he was asked. With a shrewd look, he replied: "Faix an' sure, docthur, I mane to vote for the man who can't put more nor one hand into the threasury." What seems to modern observation “much ado about nothing" presented a different aspect in 1816.

The purchasing power of money was far greater than now. The popular estimate of the value of official services was extremely low. There was an idea afloat that patriotism ought to actuate those charged with legislation rather than motives of gain. The members of the Kentucky Legislature then received but $1 per day besides mileage. The judges of the Court of Appeals had received an annual salary not greater than $1,000 prior to 1815. It was easy for selfish aspirants to make a strong point against the compensation bill from such premises. Mr. Hardin had not only voted for the obnoxious bill, but approved it in face of all opposition. In his judgment it was both a just and wise law. But to stem the tide against it and the unpopularity of having voted for it was difficult, and the result uncertain. So he discreetly declined standing for re-election. Only two of those who had voted for it were returned-Henry Clay (after a hard contest) and Colonel R. M. Johnson. Mr. Desha, who had voted against it, was again elected. The remaining seven of the delegation, including Mr. Hardin, succumbed to the inevitable. "Colonel Johnson took the stump and made a resolute effort to justify the measure, but he soon found it was all in vain. It was amusing to hear the colonel, who was not an eloquent man, make a passionate speech in favor of the measure, and conclude by promising to vote for its repeal, because such was the will of the people." So wrote Amos Kendall, who erroneously stated that every Kentucky member who had voted for the law was defeated except Clay and Johnson. Hardin was not a candidate-neither was his colleague, Alney McLean.†

But for his unlucky support of this law Mr. Hardin would doubtless have been re-elected, and thus have enjoyed the advantage of continuous service, which frequency of terms, with intervals, can never bestow. What with these advantages he might have accomplished for himself and his country it is needless to conjecture. It was unfort

☆ Henry Clay, by George D. Prentice, page 124.

Autobiography, page 178.

unate for his career that it was thus interrupted so soon after it had auspiciously begun.

The vacation passed and Mr. Hardin again set out for Washington to attend the second session of the Fourteenth Congress. He had concluded to visit his birthplace in Pennsylvania, which did not require much diversion from his direct route. Before starting from home he had equipped himself with a good horse and saddle-bags, carrying in the latter such wardrobe as the exigencies of society demanded of oldtime Congressmen. The journey was a long one, and, as it proved in this instance, a lonesome one. Much of his road was rough and through a wilderness where he esteemed himself fortunate in finding lodging places at nightfall. As he passed the Virginia line the country was better populated, and occasionally the tedium of his journey was interrupted by the company of a traveler going his way. One even

ing, as his road was passing the eastern declivities of the Blue Ridge, he approached a town where he proposed to rest for the night. Behind him he heard the sound of horses' hoofs. In a few minutes three dapper-looking young gentlemen mounted on spirited horses overtook him. From their dress, outfit, and manner he readily recognized them as belonging to the Virginia gentry. They exchanged the salutations of the road, and Mr. Hardin discovered that they as was characteristic of this class-were sprightly, good humored, and satisfied