ls, and with the severe afflictions that have
'tried the reins' of many, known only to himself, makes him an
indulgent and charitable apologist of the aberrations of others.
He has an impregnable good humor that never falls below the level of
thoughtfulness into melancholy."

A distinguished writer, two generations ago, said of the early
Western bar:

"Not only was it a body distinguished for dignity and tolerance,
but chivalrous courage was a marked characteristic. Personal
cowardice was odious among the bar, as among the hunters who had
fought the British and the Indians. Hence, insulting language,
and the use of billingsgate, were too hazardous to be indulged
where a personal accounting was a strong possibility. Not only
did common prudence dictate courtesy among the members of the bar,
but an exalted spirit of honor and well-bred politeness prevailed.
The word of a counsel to his adversary was his inviolable bond.
The suggestion of a lawyer as to the existence of a fact was accepted
as verity by the court. To insinuate unprofessional conduct was
to impute infamy."

I distinctly recall the first time I saw Mr. Lincoln. In September,
1852, two lawyers from Springfield, somewhat travel-stained with
their sixty miles' journey, alighted from the stage-coach in front
of the old tavern in Bloomington. The taller and younger of the
two was Abraham Lincoln; the other, his personal friend and former
preceptor, John T. Stuart. That evening it was my good fortune to
hear Mr. Lincoln address a political meeting at the old Courthouse
in advocacy of the election of General Winfield Scott to the
Presidency. The speech was one of great ability, and but little
that was favorable of the military record of General Pierce remained
when the speech was concluded. The Mexican War was then of recent
occurrence, its startling events fresh in the memory of all, and
its heroes still the heroes of the hour. The more than half-century
that has passed has not wholly dispelled my recollection of Mr.
Lincoln's eloquent tribute to "the hero of Lundy's Lane," and his
humorous description of the military career of General Franklin Pierce.

The incident now to be related occurred at the old National Hotel in
Bloomington in September, 1854. Senator Douglas had been advertised
to speak, and a large audience was in attendance. It was his first
appearance there since the passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill.
The writer, then a student at t