ough knowledge of the
law a vigorous understanding and an untiring industry which gained for
him an enviable reputation.

Among other cases on the docket of Culver, Parker, and Arthur, was one
known as the Lemon slave-case. A Virginian named Jonathan Lemon
undertook to take eight slaves to Texas on steamers, by the way of New
York. While in that city a writ of _habeas corpus_ was issued, and the
slaves were brought into the court before Judge Elijah Paine; Mr. Culver
and John Jay appearing for the slaves, while H.D. Lapaugh and Henry L.
Clifton were retained by Lemon. Judge Paine, after hearing long
arguments, declared that the fugitive slave law did not apply to slaves
who were brought by their masters into a free State, and he ordered
their release. The Legislature of Virginia directed the attorney-general
of that State to employ counsel to appeal from Judge Paine's decision to
the Supreme Court of the State of New York. Mr. Arthur, who was the
attorney of record in the case for the people, went to Albany, and after
earnest efforts procured the passage of a joint resolution, requesting
the governor to employ counsel to defend the interests of the State.
Attorney-General Hoffman, E.D. Culver, and Joseph Blunt were appointed
by the governor as counsel, and Mr. Arthur as the State's attorney. The
Supreme Court sustained Judge Paine's decision. The slave-holder,
unwilling to lose his "property," then engaged Charles O'Conor to argue
the case before the State Court of Appeals. There the counsel for the
State were again successful in defending the decision of Judge Paine,
and from that day no slave-holder dared to bring his slaves into the
city of New York.

Mr. Arthur, who had naturally taken a prominent part in this case, was
regarded by the colored people of New York as a champion of their
interests, and it was not long before they sought his aid. At that time,
colored people were not permitted to ride in the street-cars in New York
City, with the exception of a few old and shabby cars set aside for
their occupation. The Fourth-avenue line permitted them to ride when no
other passenger made objection.

One Sunday, in 1855, Lizzie Jennings, a colored woman, returning from
having fulfilled her duties as superintendent of a colored
Sunday-school, entered a Fourth-avenue car, and the conductor took her
fare. Soon after, a drunken white man objected to her presence, and
insisted that she be made to leave the car. The condu