SCOTCH-IRISH and cavalier blood mingled in the veins of Joseph G. Marshall. Like the North of Ireland man, he got all the contention out of a thing there was in it; and like the cavalier, he was warm-hearted, impulsive, and brave. When contending for a principle he believed to be right you would imagine him a born son of Carrickfergus; when at the fireside, or around the social board, he would impress you as one born on the banks of the York or the James. His father was a Scotch-Irishman and his mother a Virginian, so his leading characteristics were his by inheritance.
     Joseph Glass Marshall was born in Fayette county, Kentucky, January 18, 1800. His father was a Presbyterian minister, and he thoroughly indoctrinated the son in the principles of the Scottish Church. He was fitted for college at home, entering Transylvania University as a junior, and graduating from that institution in 1823. In 1828 he came to Indiana and settled at Madison, where he resided until he died. He had studied law in Kentucky, and although a young man in a town noted for the strength of its bar, he soon obtained a lucrative practice. Two years after coming to Indiana he was elected Probate Judge of his county, and discharged the duties of the office with signal ability. When he left the judgeship he returned to the bar. In 1836, 1840, and 1844 he was on the Whig electoral ticket, and each time made an active canvass of the State. In 1846 he was nominated for Governor and was beaten by James Whitcomb 3, 958 votes. In 1849 President Taylor appointed him Governor of Oregon, but he refused the place. Before declining, however, he went to Washington and personally thanked the President for the tender of the office. In 1850 he was elected Senator from his county, and served the legal term. In 1852, much against his wishes, he was nominated for Congress in his district, and was beaten by Cyrus L. Dunham 931 votes. This was the last race he made before the people. In addition to the offices named, he represented his county several times in the lower branch of the State Legislature.
     Mr. Marshall had an ambition to go to the United States Senate, but his ambition was never gratified. In the Legislature of 1844 the Whigs had ten majority on joint ballot. They nominated him for the Senate, but the Democrats refused to go into an election. Each party had twenty-five members in the Senate, and Jesse D. Bright, then Lieutenant-Governor, gave the casting vote against going into the election. In 1845 the Democrats carried the Legislature, and elected Mr. Bright to the Senate, his vote being eighty, and Mr. Marshall's sixty-six. His defeat the year before incensed him against Mr. Bright, and ever afterward he hated him.
     In the Legislature of 1854 the People's, or anti-Nebraska party, had a majority of fourteen on joint ballot, but the Democrats, having two majority in the Senate, prevented the election of a Senator. Mr. Marshall was the nominee of the dominant party, and had an election been held he would have been chosen. Thus it will be seen that he was twice kept from going to the Senate by the refusal of the Democrats to perform a legal duty.
     Mr. Marshall was at Indianapolis most of the time during the session of the Legislature of 1854-5, and while there contracted a deep cold. The cold settled on his lungs, and soon became alarming. Early in the spring of 1855 he started on a Southern trip, in hopes of regaining his health. When he reached Louisville, being too sick to proceed further, he took to his bed, and, on the 8th of April, 1855, died. His remains were brought to Madison and there interred. When the sad news reached Indianapolis a meeting of the bar was held to take action upon his death. Governor Wright presided at the meeting, and James Rariden was the secretary. A committee consisting of Oliver H. Smith, Samuel C. Wilson and Simon Yandes was appointed to prepare suitable resolutions, and reported the following:

     "The members of the bar have recently heard with deep regret that their professional brother, Joseph G. Marshall, is no more."
     "The profession has been deprived of one of its brightest ornaments, and our State and country of a distinguished citizen. We who have witnessed the pure example of the deceased can not permit an event so solemn and affecting to pass unnoticed. Few men of his age in any country have left behind stronger proofs of eminent professional abilities, or higher claims to private and public confidence. While we feel a just pride in the professional attainments and distinguished character of the deceased we will long cherish a recollection of his social qualities and amiable deportment in private life which endeared him to his friends and acquaintances.
     "Therefore, in order to testify our regard for the memory of the deceased,
     "Resolved, That we hold in the highest estimation the pure and exalted private and professional character of Joseph G. Marshall, and deeply lament the loss which the profession and the country have sustained by the death of one so eminently qualified for the high position which he occupied.  *  *  *"

     The meeting appointed Oliver H. Smith to present the preamble and resolutions to the United Sates Circuit Court, then in session. The next day Mr. Smith performed the duty, and Judge McLean ordered them recorded. Before making the order he said:

     "The court sympathizes with the bar in the loss of one of its distinguished members. Our social and professional relations teach us how uncertain is the tenure of our earthly existence. Among all the members of the bar there was no one who, from his apparent strength of constitution and healthful vigor, appeared to have a stronger hold on life than the friend whose death we now deplore.
     "Mr. Marshall was a man of vigorous intellect and of strong reasoning powers. His mind had a basis of common sense, without which learning and experience are of little value. In the strength of his views he more than compensated for any want of polish in his manner. He was always sensible, often convincing. At any bar in the Union his ability would have been marked, and he would have been considered as an antagonist worthy of the highest efforts. His professional bearing was elevated and honorable. The loss of such a man can not but be deeply felt and deplored by the public, and especially by the bench and the bar, to whom he was best known.
     "The court directs the proceedings presented to be placed upon the records."

     Indiana never had the equal of Mr. Marshall in breadth and strength of intellect. Neither did she ever have his equal in ability to stir the passions and sway the feelings of the people,. She has had men of greater culture and of more general information, but in those qualities which enable the orator to melt the hearts and fire the passions of his auditors he was without a peer. He was called the "Sleeping Lion," and, when fully aroused, he was a lion indeed.
     On such occasions his oratory was like the hurricane that sweeps everything before it. Ordinarily, he did not show his power, but when engaged in a case that enlisted his feelings and his conscience his words were like hot shot from the cannon's mouth. I will name but two examples of his power to sway the people. One was his speech in defense of John Freeman, charged with being a fugitive slave. Of this effort Miss Laura Ream gives the following account:

     "The trial of the case excited unusual interest from the fact that Freeman had long resided in that place, and, with his family, was held in personal esteem. He alleged, under oath, and his counsel brought testimony to prove, that he was a free man, but the presiding judge did not care to brave the popular sentiment in favor of the fugitive slave law, and at the close of the argument asked if there was no other reason why the prisoner should not be returned to his master? On the instant, a man on the outskirts of the bar, in the old Court-house, was seen to rise to his feet. He did it slowly, grasping the table before him with both hands as if to steady his quivering nerves; and towering to his full height, with breast heaving and eyes aflame, in trumpet tones began: 'Your Honor, though not of counsel for this unfortunate man, I think I can answer your question why he should not be remanded to slavery. I will answer that question. The law presumes man to be free. It is a fundamental question going back to the first principles of free government. It is essential to State sovereignty. For it we went to war with Great Britain in 1812; shall we surrender it now? The writ of habeas corpus was not suspended by the fugitive slave law. It is the inalienable right of every citizen, whether black or white, whether bond or free. The State is not required to deliver up a person held to service in another State before she knows whether that person is a slave or not. In this case the fact of slavery is denied, and there is no power in the world that has the right to determine the point but the sovereign State of Indiana, to whom this man belongs.' The above is but the imperfect summary of a speech which electrified the audience, which did not need to be told that the speaker was 'Jo Marshall,' as he was familiarly called. In a moment the court-room, every window, was crowded with people, eager, breathless, in tears, and ready to protect the prisoner with their lives. The incident has been related to me by different men who were present, but none could define the secret of Mr. Marshall's eloquence. 'He was like one inspired,' said one gentleman. 'He was the incarnate majesty of right. I could no more define the quality of his eloquence than I could explain the wonders of the deep."

     The other case was his defense of Delia A. Webster, charged with running off slaves from Kentucky. Miss Webster lived on the Kentucky side of the Ohio river, opposite the city of Madison. Previous to her residence there she had served a term in the Kentucky State prison for assisting slaves to escape. While residing opposite Madison she was an object of suspicion on the part of her Kentucky neighbors. Several slaves in the neighborhood escaped, and investigation showed that she prompted their leaving. For this she was indicted in the Trimble Circuit Court, but before being caught she crossed the river to Madison. She was arrested on a requisition from the Governor, but before the officers could get her away Mr. Marshall had her brought before a judge on a writ of habeas corpus. In his speech at the trial he so maddened the people that they drove the Kentucky officers from the Court-house and from the State. Indeed, they had to run for their lives, so frenzied were the people.
     In some respects Mr. Marshall's oratory was faulty, but it was none the less effective. He seemed to speak from his throat, and not from his chest. When excited he enuciated so rapidly and sent his words after each other so swiftly that they ran together. His voice was not musical, like that of Hannegan, but his matter was so strong that one hardly noticed his defects. In his day the Madison bar was a strong one, but he was its king. Michael G. Bright, Judge Sullivan, Judge Stevens, William McKee Dunn and Abram W. Hendricks, all lawyers of eminence, practiced at it, but none of them approached Mr. Marshall in ability to convince courts and sway juries. The litigant who had him for an advocate was fortunate, indeed. In fact, it was almost impossible to get a verdict against him when he was thoroughly aroused and "shook his mane."
     A man with Mr. Marshall's power to arouse passion in others must have passion himself. He had plenty of it, and, although like his eloquence, it was usually dormant, yet when it was stirred it was hot and burning. The late John Dumont once demurred to a complaint drawn by Marshall, and made his points so well, and argued them so strongly, that it seemed almost certain he would be sustained. At that time a demurrer was a more serious matter than it now is, for, if maintained, it drove the plaintiff out of court; therefore, Marshall fought Mr. Dumont with all his might. When it became evident that the court would decide against him he asked for a suspension of judgment until he could bring a certain authority into court. The favor being granted he thrust his hat upon his head and started for his office almost on the run. At that time Judge Woollen, now of Franklin, had a sleeping-room adjoining Mr. Marshall's office, and was in it when Mr. Marshall reached his door. He tried to open it, and, finding it locked, cried out fiercely: "Woollen, have you the key to this door?"  "No, sir," replied Mr. Woollen; "I do not carry your key, Mr. Marshall." The hall leading to his office was some six feet wide, and Marshall, backing up against the wall, and drawing his lips between his teeth, shouted, "d--n the door," and with a bound and a kick he went through it like a flash. Mr. Woollen went down the stairs, but, being desirous of seeing the result of the storm, stopped in the doorway. In a few minutes Mr. Marshall came down the stairway, and observing Mr. Woollen, he said, with a smile, "Woollen, I had the key in my pocket. My passion has cost me a door."
     Mr. Marshall and Judge Otto were once opposing counsel in a case at Charlestown, and during the trial had a personal difficulty. Mr. Marshall, becoming incensed at something Judge Otto said, retorted very severely. During the wrangle Judge Otto called him a liar, whereupon Mr. Marshall knocked him down. Judge Otto arose, and, coming at Mr. Marshall in a belligerant manner, was knocked down again. He then got up and went out of the house to arm himself preparatory to renewing the fight. While he was gone some one told Mr. Marshall that he was to blame for the commencement of the difficulty, whereupon he sat down and wrote Judge Otto a letter in which he apologized for his conduct and asked his pardon. He was too great and brave to refuse justice when justice was due.
     Mr. Marshall and the late George G. Dunn loved each other like brothers. They roomed together during the session of the Legislature of 1851, both being members of the Senate. In the latter part of the session they had a difficulty, and a gentleman who witnessed their reconcilation thus describes it:

     "Marshall and Dunn roomed together in 1851-2, when they were in the Senate. They had a difficulty in debate, and though they continued to occupy the same room to receive their friends, were known not to speak to each other for weeks. The Senate adjourned. Marshall was in one corner packing an old carpetbag and crowding into it his soiled clothing. Dunn was in another corner crowding things into an old trunk. Neither of them spoke. Finally Marshall walked up to Dunn, held out his hand and said: 'Well, good-bye, George.' Dunn took it, and they both cried like children."

     This was Marshall to the life. He belonged to that fiery class of men who are all ablaze in their affections and their hates.
     In 1851 the contest for the Legislature in Jefferson county was made upon the question of the Senate selling her interest in the Madison and Indianapolis Railroad. Joseph W. Chapman, a law partner of Senator Bright, was in the Legislature the year before and opposed a bill authorizing the sale. Mr. Marshall canvassed the county in 1851 in support of candidates favoring the sale, and Senator Bright in support of those opposing it. In a speech at Ritchey's Mills, Mr. Marshall said he was surprised at Senator Bright's course in the canvass, as he had told him before it commenced that if he had said to him, Mr. Bright, that he, Mr. Marshall, desired Mr. Chapman's support the winter before, he would have seen that he got it. Mr. Bright, who was present, cried out in a loud voice: "Judge Marshall, I deny that statement." Marshall stopped a moment, and looking Bright straight in the eye, said, with an emphasis I shall never forget: "And I, sir, reiterate it."  "We will see about it hereafter," said Mr. Bright. "As you please," replied Mr. Marshall, who then proceeded with his speech. This trouble resulted in a challenge and almost a dual, as will be seen further along.
     In 1852 the author conducted a newspaper at Madison which supported Mr. Marshall for Congress. During the canvass he received a letter from some half dozen Quakers of Jackson county asking him to give the particulars of the difficulty between Mr. Marshall and Senator Bright. They said that while anxious to vote for Mr. Marshall they could not conscientiously do so if he had ever sought the blood of a fellow man. The day I received this letter I sent Mr. Marshall a note asking him to call at my office. When he came I handed him the letter. He read it carefully, and, handing it back to me, said: "I fear we must get along without the support of our Quaker friends. You were present when the trouble between Bright and myself culminated, but if had been brewing a long time. Bright has ever been in my pathway. I never go out of a door without seeing his shadow. He prevented me from going to the Senate in 1844, and the next year beat me for the place. The day after the trouble at Ritchey's Mills, while at my home, Jonathan Fitch was announced. He came into my library and handed me a note from Bright. It was not a challenge, but was intended to provoke me. Its contents were so insulting that I became enraged, and resolved to kick Fitch out of my house. But in a moment I changed my mind. He was in my house, and, being a respectable man, I could not treat him thus. I told him Mr. Bright would either see or hear from me soon, and then he left. I studied over the matter that afternoon and evening, and concluded that the world was not big enough for me and Bright--that one of us must die. Next morning I came to the city, went to the hardware store of H. K. Wells & Co., and bought a bowie-knife. I put it in my pocket, and, knowing that it was Bright's custom to go for his mail at 10 o'clock, I walked up and down Second street, between the post-office and West street, from 10 to 10:30, waiting for him, but he did not appear. Had he come I should have attacked him and killed him, if I could. I knew he was always armed, so I would not be taking him at a disadvantage. I then went to my office, and wrote him a note, asking him to meet me at Louisville, on a day I named, to settle our difficulty. The day before we were to meet I told McKee Dunn what I had done, and asked him to accompany me to Louisville. He agreed to go down that evening on the mail-boat. I left him, and at noon took the Louisville packet, got off at Charlestown landing, and walked out to Charlestown. I called on Dr. Athon, told him I had challenged Bright, and asked him to go on the field as my surgeon. He consented, and he and I then hunted up Captain Gibson, who agreed to serve as my second. That evening Athon, Gibson and myself went to Louisville, and the next morning found Dunn at the hotel. Bright was also in the city, and negotiations for a meeting began. Before they were completed friends interfered and the matter was settled."  "How was it settled, Mr. Marshall?" I asked.  "The particulars are not for the public. All it will ever know is contained in the card published by our friends. It was satisfactory to us, and the difficulty is ended." This is the substance of what he said, and very nearly the words he used.

     Knowing that General William McKee Dunn, of Washington, was very near Mr. Marshall in his difficulty with Senator Bright, I wrote him a short time ago asking him to give me his recollection of it. I suggested that, as the principals and every one connected with the trouble but himself were dead, there could be no impropriety in giving the facts to the public. The following is a copy of General Dunn's reply:

     "The difficulty between Joseph G. Marshall, Esq., and Hon. Jesse D. Bright having been referred to us by mutual (not official) friends, we are happy to say has been honorably adjusted, and to the mutual satisfaction of the parties.

     Mr. Marshall always traveled on foot or horseback. For several years the author saw him almost every day, and never knew him to ride in a carriage. He kept one for family use, but did not use it himself. He lived on the hill just north of Madison, and in going to and from his home to his office he invariably walked. When he started out on the circuit he threw a pair of saddle-bags, containing a few articles of clothing, over his saddle and mounted his horse. He made his canvass for Governor in 1846 on horseback. The author is informed by Judge Julian that during Mr. Marshall's canvass for Governor in 1846 he came to the Judge's house and remained with him over night. He was to speak next day at a town some ten miles distant, and Judge Julian proposed taking him to the place in his carriage. He said he preferred riding his horse, and it took a good deal of persuasion to get him to take a seat in the Judge's carriage.
     Mr. Marshall loved the horse and was a most excellent judge of that animal. He always rode a good one and treated it most affectionately.
     Although a leading politician Mr. Marshall seldom did more on election day than deposit his ballot. I remember only two occasions when he was a worker at the polls. One of them was when General Stapp ran for the Legislature, and the other when Captain Meek was a candidate for County Treasurer. When a candidate himself he kept away from the voting place. He was too big and too proud a man to work for himself. He left to others the responsibility of his election or defeat.
     Mr. Marshall was particularly fond of pictures. He has been known to buy a book for its pictures, and, when he had examined them, to give the book away. He loved the beautiful and the true.
     Mr. Marshall was a consummate actor. He knew how to "suit the action to the word, and the word to the action." In his arguments to a jury his force was not in the comparisons he made, but in the deductions he drew from his premises. In other words, he argued not by comparison, but from cause to effect. His ability to present his facts in the strongest possible manner was excelled by no man. He wasted no time in dallying with the graces of oratory, but at once hurled the javelins of his logic at the weakest points in his adversary's armor. He had the element of pathos. At times he would have a jury he was addressing in tears, and in a minute thereafter convulsed with laughter. He knew when to do this, and never made the mistake of provoking mirth when sadness would better serve the interests of his client.
     Mr. Marshall was kind to young lawyers, but held those that aspired to be his peers to the strictest accountability. After demurring a young attorney out of court he would graciously permit him to amend his pleadings and go on with his case. But if he got a fair advantage of Judge Sullivan, Mr. M. G. Bright, or attorneys of their standing, he would not relax his hold upon them one iota. He held them rigidly to the "bond," even though it took the "pound of flesh."
     Mr. Marshall had the reputation of being an indolent man, and the reputation was a correct one. He had a habit of putting off labor to "a more convenient season," but in justice to him it must be said that he could do more work with less labor than any of his competitors at the bar. Indeed, he could do better work with little preparation than they could do with much study. His mind was so great that it could grasp a difficult problem in law at once, while his less able compeers could accomplish this only by much study and labor.
     Mr. Marshall was a wit as well as an orator. He often said things that were worthy of Dean Swift. They came from him, not as studied efforts, but as naturally as the water runs from the spring. One day, as the attorneys were gathering in the Madison Court-house previous to the opening of court, a bright boy--son of the deputy sheriff--came within the bar, when a Democratic lawyer addressed him thus: "Jeff., what's your politics?"  "I'm a Democrat, sir," answered the hopeful three-year-old. "There, gentleman," said the lawyer, "you see that little children that know no sin are Democrats by nature."  "Yes," said Mr. Marshall, "the Good Book tells us that we are all brought forth in sin, but through grace we are saved. We may be Democrats by nature, but through grace we become Whigs."
     Again, the venerable John H. Thompson, who died in Indianapolis a few years ago, was at one time Judge of the judicial circuit that embraced the county of Scott. Mr. Marshall had a case in this court, and introduced a witness that "surprised" him, and, desiring to destroy the force of his testimony, sought to impeach him. This was objected to by the opposing counsel, and Judge Thompson sustained the objection. The same day a law student applied to the Judge for license to practice, and was referred to Mr. Marshall for examination. Marshall took the young man outside the bar and spoke a few words to him, when the student left the court-room and Mr. Marshall resumed the seat he had just vacated. The Judge asked him if he had examined the applicant and was prepared to report. "Yes, your honor," replied the lawyer. "Your examination was a very brief one," remarked the Judge. "I only asked him a single question, your honor."  "What was the question, sir?"  "I asked him if a party could, under any circumstances, impeach his own witness. He said no; and I told him to return to his books, as a man that knew no more of law than that was not fit to practice before a justice of the peace."
     Sometimes Mr. Marshall was very domineering in his manner. He even carried this into court, and neither judge nor counsel was spared when the humor was on him. A young man was indicted in the Jefferson Circuit Court for larceny, and Mr. Marshall volunteered to defend him. The prisoner was charged with stealing a watch that was found in a room occupied by him in a Madison hotel. It came out in the evidence that the person indicted was decoyed out of the city by the Sheriff and City Marshal, and threatened with flagellation if he did not produce the watch. He confessed the stealing, and told them where the watch could be found. To this testimony Mr. Marshall objected because the confession was made under duress. Judge Courtland Cushing was on the bench, and ruled that although the confession of the prisoner could not go to the jury, yet, if they found that the watch was discovered in the prisoner's room, in the place named by him, they might infer that it was placed there by him, and would be justified in bringing in a verdict of guilty. To this ruling, Mr. Marshall excepted with much warmth. After the evidence was closed he addressed the jury in one of the ablest efforts he ever made. The adverse decision of the judge had angered him, and the "Sleeping Lion," as he was called, was aroused. He commenced his speech by saying that the liberty of the humblest citizen in the land was as dear to him as though he was "clothed in purple and fine linen" and sat among the rulers of the land. Continuing in an excited manner, he said: "The prisoner at the bar stands charged with crime without a particle of evidence to sustain it. The court, in its infinite wisdom, has permitted testimony to go to you which should have been excluded." At this point Judge Cushing interrupted him, and said that he must be more respectful to the court. With forced calmness, for he was seething with excitement, he said: "I must confess my inability, your honor, to be more respectful than I am."  "The court will teach you, then," replied the Judge in a testy manner. Folding his arms and bowing his head, he said: "Will the court commence its lesson now?" The Judge gave way to the lawyer, who remained for some time as immovable as a statue, and only relaxed his features and resumed his argument when he saw that he had cowed to the court. Had it been any other member of the Madison bar he would have been fined, if not imprisoned, for contempt of court. But Judge Cushing could not assert the authority necessary to maintain the dignity of his office when the transgressor was Joseph G. Marshall.
     In social circles he was facetious and witty, but in public he seldom indulged in pleasantry. When he did so it was to illustrate a point or ridicule the position of his adversary.
     No man ever questioned Mr. Marshall's integrity. He was as honest in politics as in private dealings. He was conscientiously opposed to the use of money in elections. In 1852, when a candidate for Congress, the chairman of the Whig State Central Committee wrote him that the National Committee had sent him money to be used in Mr. Marshall's district, and asking what should be done with it. Mr. Marshall replied: "Return it to Washington. The use of money in elections is both corrupt and corrupting. I shall have nothing to do with it."
     In his sketches of Indiana men, Oliver H. Smith says of Mr. Marshall:  "As a lawyer Mr. Marshall stood among the very first in the State. His great forte as an advocate was in the power with which he handled the facts before the jury. He seemed to forget himself in his subject, and at times I have thought him unsurpassed by any man I ever heard in impassioned eloquence."  It should be remembered that Mr. Smith has sat in the Senate of the United States, and had heard speeches from Clay, Webster and Calhoun. Colonel Abram W. Hendricks, in a recent address, thus speaks of Mr. Marshall:  "He was one of the most transcendently powerful advocates that have figured at the Indiana bar. His intellect was colossal. He seemed to know the law by intuition. His logic was surrounded by a glowing atmosphere of passion. He could sweep through his subject like a tempest or crush through it like an avalanche."  Colonel Hendricks had practiced at the bar with him for years, and knew whereof he spoke.
     John D. Defrees, in a letter published in the Madison Courier, says that Mr. Marshall was "the Webster of Indiana."
     John Lyle King, of Chicago, in a recent letter, said that Mr. Marshall, "was, by odds, the greatest man Indiana ever produced."
     Making all due allowance for the partiality of his friends the reader must conclude that Joseph G. Marshall was a great man --the peer of any man living in Indiana in his day.
     Mr. Marshall was very careless of his dress. He didn't care whether his coat fitted him or not, or whether the bow on his neck-stock was under his ear or his chin. He usually wore low shoes, and there was often quite a distance between his shoe-tops and the bottom of his pantaloons. He carried his papers in his hat instead of his pockets, and wore his hat pulled low down upon his head. He had a great big head, thickly covered with sandy hair. His forehead, mouth and nose were large and prominent. His eyes were a light blue, and were the least expressive of his features. He stood over six feet high. His body was not symmetrical, being from his shoulders to his hips almost the same in size. It was his head and face that told you the manner of main he was. These were magnificent, and his uncouth form and careless dress served to show them to the best advantage. Had he gone to the Senate, as he should have done, he would have made a reputation equal to any one in the land. He had the ability to shine anywhere and would not have suffered by comparison with the ablest men in that body.