ch then raged fiercely, a gentleman from the West,
who held for several years a seat in the House of Delegates and in the
Council, speaking of the debate to me on the day it occurred, said:
"Why, Tazewell trod down those great men as if they had been children."

When the Convention adjourned _sine die_, every heart melted, and all
animosity soothed by the last words of the president, I saw Tazewell
approach Madison and Marshall, and exchange parting salutations. He
could go no further; the members pressed round him: but, old as he then
was, for he had reached his 56th year, he little dreamed that he was
destined to outlive almost all of those young and gallant spirits that
then loved and greeted him. He was the last survivor of those who sate
in the House of Delegates during the eighteenth century; and of the
Convention of 1829, out of 96 members who composed it, he attained to a
greater age than has yet been attained by any member of the body, not
excepting Madison, whom he exceeded by one month and five days, and
surviving all but twenty; and three of that twenty have come here this
day to honor his memory.[10]

Perhaps the best description of his manner at the bar would be to say
that he had no manner at all. In addressing juries, he talked to them, I
am told, ordinarily as he would converse with the same number of men in
society on the merits of the case; and his gestures were those which
might be used without serious remark in animated conversation. His
postures were sometimes negligent enough; he had a contempt for rant,
and hated show and pomp. His voice was pleasant, and of ample compass
for an ordinary court-room, and he never dealt in vociferations; indeed,
his style of argument to the jury, as well as to the bench, would have
been impossible to a boisterous talker. While his manner was natural,
his matter seemed equally void of art. When by the examination and
cross-examination of witnesses, he had obtained his facts, he formed his
theory of the case, and unfolded it to the jury in the simplest possible
way. It was plain to see, however, that the argument was a continuous
chain of demonstration, every link of which seemed to be of equal
strength. Some of his speeches to the jury, could they have been
preserved as they were delivered, would have been invaluable specimens
of dialectics for the use of students. I heard the late William Maxwell
say, that it was vain and even fatal to attempt before a jury to find