But

re-agents reduced it to its last analysis with the skill of a logician of the schools. In his faculty of clear and logical statement of every question involved in a case lay one of the secrets of his power. in the exercise of this talent he had rivals whom he did not encounter in another field peculiarly his own. It was once said by that gifted orator, Thomas F. Marshall (repeating what others had said before him), that no one had ever been able to write a parable, or even approach those of the New Testament, from which premise he argued the divinity of their author. As a means of illustrating and enforcing a proposition and producing conviction they exceed all arts of human logic. Undoubtedly from hence, Mr. Hardin obtained the hint for a mode of argument that he employed with powerful effect. His speeches were largely a series of narratives of events apart from his subject, but which led the mind unconsciously to a conclusion bearing directly on his theme. He did not travel the direct road of the logician, in which the hearer from prejudice or bias sometimes advances unwillingly, but amused and entertained him with circuitous detours, now and then coming suddenly into the pathway of his theme only to depart again and again return, until, at last, the logical end was reached, and with it unavoidable conviction, and reached in such a way that no adversary could turn about and retrace the route.

He was free from the folly that besets crafty minds, who, not willing to rest their case-even a good one-on the strength of its merit, tax their utmost ingenuity in hatching sophistic reasons which they mix indiscriminately with better ones and thus weaken all. Said Judge Bridges (one of the brightest lawyers that ever adorned the circuit bench) "if there were a hundred points in a case, R———W— would never omit one of them, and possibly touch them in the inverse order of their logical arrangement, while the simple statement of a case by Ben Hardin was of itself often an irrefutable argument." As once said of Sargeant S. Prentiss, so it may be affirmed of Mr. Hardin: "He avoided the miserable error into which so many lawyers fall, of making every possible point in a case, and pressing all with equal force and confidence, thereby prejudicing the mind of the court and making the jury believe that the trial of the case is but running a jockey race.

When he had a bad case, or was beset in argument, he would sometimes address a jury for a half-hour without the slightest allusion to the case. At such times, blunders of opposing counsel, contradictions, improbabilities, and discrepancies in the evidence all had due

attention. He insinuated facts before the jury by obscure references only understood by himself and the jury, or some member of it. But if there was no remedy for the infirmity of his case in any of these resources, he turned to that dernier resort of lawyers in such emergencies the constitution and the principles of eternal justice. The following case referred to by him in the constitutional convention of 1849, illustrates how a bad case may sometimes be saved:

"I recollect once that in Marion county some twenty men were indicted for keeping what was called a 'Spanish needle.' I argued before the jury that the punishment was too violent and disproportionate to the offense, and was cruel and inhuman. The jury brought in a verdict something like this: We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty; for, although we know he played the wheel, we consider the punishment cruel, extravagant, and disproportionate to the offense.' Judge Green sent them back, and they again returned with this verdict: 'We, the jury, know the man kept the wheel, but in our consciences we do not believe him to be guilty under the constitution. They were sent back again, and on the fourth day they returned with an unqualified verdict of not guilty."*

It is said that some of his finest efforts were put forth where the amount involved was trivial. As a rule, however, he gauged his efforts to suit the emergency, using as much, but no more, power than was necessary for success.

He was inclined to regard the Court of Appeals as the refuge of weak lawyers-as a dilatory tribunal whereby the administration of justice was delayed and obstructed. In his opinion, circuit courts were adequate to attain all the practical ends of justice. "I have argued a case," said he, "before a court and jury, and yet one of these Court of Appeals gentlemen, after worrying the court a whole day taking down the evidence, would so distort and garble it that the case would not appear in the court above as below, and by that means the judgment would be reversed."

Nothing better illustrates his genius and power than the impression he made on those who heard him, of all classes and of every degree of intelligence. While he entertained the scholar, the same speech. equally attracted, delighted, and instructed the ignorant. In the region where he lived and practiced, his great rivals, Rowan, Wickliffe, etc., are spoken of with unqualified praise to this day, and the survivors of that generation delight to dwell on their appearance, their manner, their talents, and characteristics. But when Mr. Hardin is alluded to, it is always to repeat some remembered thought bearing

the unmistakable stamp of his genius. When Cicero spoke in the forum at Rome, his hearers went away applauding his oratory, but when Demosthenes addressed the Athenians in one of his stirring philippics, the cry of his auditors was, "let us march against Philip.” Without derogating from their great abilities, it seems that his rivals are best remembered because of an imposing personality, while Mr. Hardin himself survives because he wrote his own thoughts indelibly in the hearts and memories of his generation.

The testimony of a number of persons has been collected and examined as to his character and ability as a lawyer. Many of them expressing the same ideas have unconsciously employed the same language. There are none who dispute his pre-eminence at the bar. Many speak of him as a sound lawyer, a powerful and skillful advocate, as one of the readiest and best educated of elementary lawyers, as the best circuit court practitioner of his day. Some call him the Colossus of the Kentucky bar; others, the Goliah of prosecution; another, "the last of the race of giants."

He once remarked of himself, "I reckon there is not a man more intimate with the operation of the circuit courts of Kentucky than I am, and there will not be for fifty years to come." This was not a mere boast, nor intended as such, but the simple statement of a plain fact. He was in truth a legal philosopher, deeply imbued with the wisdom and learning of the law. To him the law was a moral science governed by principles as unerring as any in the moral world, and of as easy and certain application. He was, in all respects, an original man, whose character can not be measured by ordinary standards. His talents were so dissimilar to those of his distinguished rivals and colleagues that contrasts and comparisons are vain. While there is no one found with whom to compare him, yet it may be that the rugged virility of his intellect bears more than a fancied resemblance to that of the late Jere Black, and that both in many of their characteristics, and especially in a certain mental and moral manhood, are of the class whose best type was the great Scotch philosopherThomas Carlyle.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Ө

COURT HOUSE REMINISCENCES.

NE who from boyhood had known Mr. Hardin well and heard him argue some of the celebrated cases in which he was at different times engaged, remarked that he had never entered a courthouse without thinking of him, and involuntarily, though vainly, casting the eye about to see who might compare with him. During his life few were the court-houses he entered where he was not a central figure. When not engaged as counsel in a trial, he usually listened at its progress, especially if he felt any interest in the matter in contest, the parties, or their attorneys. Instances occurred where he took part for the first time after the testimony was concluded.

When he felt no interest in court proceedings, he frequently engaged the bar-loungers in conversation. He quickly gathered an attentive and admiring coterie on such occasions. Narrative and anecdote were the staple of his talk, and now and then the merriment he produced, attracted reproof from the court. Feeling himself culpable at such times, he would apologize, with assurances, courteous and voluble, that no disturbance or disrespect was intended.

Mr. Hardin's skill and success were the envy of the younger members of the bar. With the latter it was an ever-recurring question as to how successfully to deal with "Old Ben." They discussed it among themselves and devised many plans of action, but like the mice who resolved to bell the cat, the difficulty was to execute them. A couple of young lawyers discussing this subject on one occasion concluded that he might be overcome or subjugated by launching all the weapons of invective and sarcasm upon him—in short, by giving him a sound abusing. The idea was, that if assailed by all young lawyers in this way, it would intimidate him and render him less formidable. One of the young conspirators (now one of the first lawyers of the State) excused himself on account of ancient alliances of friendship between his own and Mr. Hardin's family-but he encouraged his young friend to try the execution of the project. Shortly after, a case came up where T———— and Mr. Hardin were opposed. Without any

special relevancy, the former began a personal tirade, of which the latter was the object. Mr. Hardin listened at first with surprise, but at last with evident amusement. In reply, he inquired what he had done to the young gentleman to so incense him. He was surprised at being so vigorously assailed, because unconscious of having offended. He finally concluded that T-supposed that he (H.) envied himenvied his lawyership and oratorical ability. Assuming an air of child-like simplicity, he assured T- that he did not envy him. He turned to the court and earnestly protested that he did not and never had envied T-. He addressed the bar with pathetic seriousness, and hoped they would not do him the injustice of suspecting him of envy or jealousy. By this time everybody was in a titter, and poor T was cured of attacking "Old Ben."

A very large number of readers throughout Kentucky and Middle Tennessee have heard of the chief character in the following story: Leonard Jones, better known as Live-Forever Jones, was an eccentric character who had notoriety in Mr. Hardin's day, and afterward, because of his religious creed, professing to believe that by leading a life of absolute sinlessness, his earthly existence would be prolonged forever. He had not originated this doctrine, but was the convert of one Miller, who had proclaimed it before him, and possibly had the honor of being its discoverer. But, finally, the latter died, just as all sinful mortals inevitably must. Among his last requests, one was,