Abraham Lincoln. William Eleroy Curtis

much skill as any of his rivals. He adapted himself to circumstances with remarkable ease, and his thorough knowledge of human nature enabled him to excite the interest and sympathy of a jury by getting very close to their hearts. He argued much from analogy; he used old-fashioned words and homely phrases which were familiar to the jurymen he desired to impress, and illustrated his points by stories, maxims, and figures often droll and sometimes vulgar, because he knew that he could make it plainer to them in that way and that they would better understand the force and bearing of his arguments. He relied more upon this method of convincing a jury than upon exhibitions of learning or flights of eloquence, and his acquaintance with human nature was even more intimate than his knowledge of the law.

      Few of his speeches at the bar have been preserved, but his contemporaries have left us many interesting reminiscences of his originality and power. His ungainly form and awkward gesticulations enhanced the force of his arguments and attracted the attention and sympathy of a country jury more than the most graceful manners and elegant rhetoric could have done. It was always his rule, in presenting a case, to cut out all of the "dead wood" and get down to "hard pan," as he called it, as soon as possible. In making such concessions he would establish a position of fairness and honesty, and often disarmed his opponent by leaving the impression that he had accidentally "given away his case." Then he would rely upon his remarkable habit of order and command of logic to bring his evidence forward in a clear and strong light, keeping unnecessary details away from the attention of the jury and pressing only the essential points with which he expected to convince them. Sometimes, when his opponent seemed to have captured a verdict, he would abandon his serious argument and begin to tell stories one after another with more or less application, until by such diversion he had effaced from the minds of the jury every impression that the other side had made.

      Justice Lawrence Weldon, of the United States Court of Claims, in his reminiscences says, "One of the most interesting incidents in my early acquaintance with Mr. Lincoln was a lawsuit in which Mr. Lincoln was counsel for the plaintiff and I was counsel for the defendant. Even then, in a trial that was the sensation of an obscure village on the prairies, Mr. Lincoln showed that supreme sense of justice to God and his fellow-men.

      "It was a family quarrel between two brothers-in-law, Jack Dungee and Joe Spencer. Dungee was a Portuguese, extremely dark-complexioned, but not a bad-looking fellow; and after a time he married Spencer's sister, with the approval of Spencer's family. I don't remember the origin of the quarrel, but it became bitter; and the last straw was laid on when Spencer called Dungee a 'nigger' and followed it up, they say, by adding 'a nigger married to a white woman.' The statute of Illinois made it a crime for a negro to marry a white woman, and, because of that, the words were slanderous. Dungee, through Mr. Lincoln, brought the suit for slander. Judge David Davis was on the bench, and the suit was brought in the De Witt Circuit Court. When the case came up, Mr. Moore and myself appeared for the defence and demurred to the declaration, which, to the annoyance of Mr. Lincoln, the court sustained. Whatever interest Mr. Lincoln took in the case before that time, his professional pride was aroused by the fact that the court had decided that his papers were deficient. Looking across the trial table at Moore and myself and shaking his long, bony finger, he said, 'Now, by jing, I will beat you boys!'

      "At the next term of the court Mr. Lincoln appeared with his papers amended, and fully determined to make good his promise to 'beat the boys!' and we thought his chances pretty good to do it, too. We knew our man was a fool not to have settled it, but still we were bound to defend and clear him if we could.

      "In the argument of the case on the testimony Mr. Lincoln made a most powerful and remarkable speech, abounding in wit, logic, and eloquence of the highest order. His thoughts were clothed in the simplest garb of expression and in words understood by every juror in the box. After the instructions were given by the court the jury retired, and in a few moments returned with a judgment for the plaintiff, in a sum which was a large amount for those days.

      "Mr. Lincoln's advice to his client was that Dungee agree to remit the whole judgment, by Spencer paying the costs of the suit and Mr. Lincoln's fee. Mr. Lincoln then proposed to leave the amount of his fee to Moore and myself. We protested against this, and insisted that Mr. Lincoln should fix the amount of his own fee. After a few moments' thought he said, 'Well, gentlemen, don't you think I have honestly earned twenty-five dollars?' We were astonished, and had he said one hundred dollars it would have been what we expected. The judgment was a large one for those days; he had attended the case at two terms of court, had been engaged for two days in a hotly contested suit, and his client's adversary was going to pay the bill. The simplicity of Mr. Lincoln's character in money matters is well illustrated by the fact that for all this he charged twenty-five dollars."

      Justice David Davis, of the Supreme Court of the United States, said, "In all the elements that constitute the great lawyer he had few equals. He was great both at nisi prius and before an appellate tribunal. He seized the strong points of a cause and presented them with clearness and great compactness. His mind was logical and direct, and he did not indulge in extraneous discussion. Generalities and platitudes had no charms for him. An unfailing vein of humor never deserted him; and he was able to claim the attention of court and jury, when the cause was the most uninteresting, by the appropriateness of his anecdotes. His power of comparison was large, and he rarely failed in a legal discussion to use that mode of reasoning. The framework of his mental and moral being was honesty, and a wrong cause was poorly defended by him. He hated wrong and oppression everywhere, and many a man whose fraudulent conduct was undergoing review in a court of justice has writhed under his terrific indignation and rebukes. The people where he practised law were not rich, and his charges were always small. When he was elected President, I question whether there was a lawyer in the circuit, who had been at the bar so long a time, whose means were not larger. It did not seem to be one of the purposes of his life to accumulate a fortune. In fact, outside of his profession, he had no knowledge of the way to make money, and he never even attempted it."

      Lincoln was associated at the Springfield bar with many famous men, and there was a keen rivalry among them. Stephen A. Douglas, David Davis, James Shields, Edward D. Baker, John M. Palmer, Lyman Trumbull, Oliver H. Browning, Shelby M. Cullom, and others afterwards sat in the United States Senate and some of them held positions in the Cabinets of Presidents. Others were afterwards Governors of States and members of the House of Representatives; others led armies during the war with Mexico and the war between the States. One of the strongest groups of men that ever gathered at the capital of a State was to be found in Springfield in those days, and Lincoln was their equal in ability and learning and the superior of many of them in the qualities that make a statesman. They recognized him as their superior on many occasions, and whether or not he was the ablest lawyer on the circuit, there was never any doubt that he was the most popular. He was always a great favorite with the younger members of the bar because of his sympathy and good-nature. He never used the arts of a demagogue; he was never a toady; he was always ready to do an act of kindness; he was generous with his mind and with his purse; although he never asked for help, was always ready to give it; and while he received everybody's confidence, he rarely gave his own in return. Whatever his cares and anxieties may have been, he never inflicted them upon others; he never wounded by his wit; his humor was never harsh or rude; he endeavored to lighten the labors and the cares of others, and beneath his awkward manner was a gentle refinement and an amiable disposition.

      For twenty-five years he practised at the Springfield bar. He was not a great lawyer according to the standard of his profession, but the testimony of his associates is that he was a good one, enjoying the confidence of the judiciary, the bar, and the public to a remarkable degree. He was conspicuous for several honorable traits, and, above all, for that sense of moral responsibility that can always distinguish between duty to a client and duty to society and the truth. On the wrong side of a case he was always weak, and, realizing this, he often persuaded his clients to give up litigation rather than compel him to argue against truth and justice.

      Leonard Swett, of Chicago, for years an intimate associate, and himself one of the most famous of American lawyers, says that, "sometimes, after Lincoln entered upon a criminal case, the conviction that his client was guilty would affect him with a sort of panic. On one occasion he turned suddenly to his associate and said, 'Swett, the man is guilty; you defend him, I can't,' and so gave