One of the notable firms of Cincinnati was that of Stover and Gwynne. Few lawyers have been more honored in Western legal circles than Bellamy Stover. His name is yet a synonyme for honor, ability and genuine patriotism. There was no end to his kindness. His life was a succession of good deeds. As a judge, the ermine he wore on the bench was even whiter when put off than when he put it on. Socially he was the pattern of a gentleman. As an instructor he retained through life the most affectionate regard of his pupils. Abram Gwynne ably seconded him. Young Harrison was received into their office as a regular student. While thus engaged, he lived at the house of his sister, Mrs. Eaton, whose husband was a physician in active practice.

Before he had quite finished his legal course, listening to a voice in his heart, he made a pilgrimage to Oxford, and on the 20th of October, 1853, was married; after which, with his wife, he returned to his father's place below Cincinnati, where he continued his studies, going up frequently to the office for examination.

It was but natural that in the time he was thus occupied he should be on the lookout for a location. We have seen that his father's farm touched the boundary line of Indiana, which became as familiar to him as his native State. The names of its politicians, lawyers and judges were perfectly within his knowledge-as perfectly, in fact,

as if they were personal acquaintances. He knew the history of the State from its beginning; its territorial history was the history of his grandfather, so that it is impossible that he should not have been interested in it, and equally impossible that it should have been without attraction to him. With excellent judgment he finally resolved to establish himself in Indianapolis. And thither he betook himself in March, 1854.

His marriage was an evidence of self-reliance and confidence in the goodness of Providence. Further evidence illustrative of those qualities may be found in a presentation of his worldly goods at that time.

As we have seen, his father was not in condition to assist him pecuniarily. The good man had strained his remaining resources in educating him and his brother. A fortunate circumstance now intervened. James Finley, a soldier of the war of 1812, had married an aunt of young Harrison, leaving her a widow. From her he had inherited a lot in Cincinnati, which he turned to present account. A purchaser was found willing to advance $800 on the property; on account of the minority of young Harrison, the transaction was perfected by a bond for a deed upon his arrival at majority. That sum constituted the entire fortune with which he settled down in Indianapolis. A more unaristocratic beginning of life can scarcely be conceived. He was not able

to buy him a house or rent a separate office. He had but one acquaintance in the city, Mr. John H. Rea, who was Clerk of the United States District Court, and as such was domiciled in the State Bank building situated in the triangular corner opposite the Bates House. Mr. Rea kindly offered him a desk, and shortly a "shingle" was nailed at the side of the door, notifying the world that Benjamin Harrison, attorney-at-law, might be found within.

Shortness of means and lack of acquaintanceship were not the only disadvantages with which the young aspirant for legal honors had to contend. The writer became acquainted with him by introduction from Mr. Rea, and well remembers his personal appearance. He was small in stature, of slender physique, and what might be called a blonde. His eyes were gray, tinged with blue, his hair light, reminding one of what in ancient days along the Wabash was more truly than poetically described as "a tow-head." He was plainly dressed, and, in that respect, gave tokens of indifference to the canons of fashion. He was modest in manner, even diffident; but he had a pleasant voice and look, and did not lack for words to express himself. At first one wondered that a young man apparently so lacking in assertion should presume to entrust himself so far from home.

The wonder was heightened when it became

known that the fledgling was a grandson of President William Henry Harrison. He grew, however, with more intimate acquaintanceship; and, by-and-by, men, speaking of him in the vernacular, prophesied that he would develop into a "swinge cat."

Unable, as we have seen, to take a house and furnish it, he secured boarding for himself and Mrs. Harrison in the Roll house, below the bank building at the corner of Maryland street; and while waiting for business, he set about mastering the Indiana statutes and the code of practice, then of recent adoption. Business was slow in coming, but his patience and confidence were equal to the occasion.

About this time, through the kindness of United States Marshal John L. Robinson and his deputy, George McOuat, the young man was appointed crier of the Federal Court, the salary of which in term time was two dollars and a half a day. He speaks of the money received for his services as court crier as the first he ever made.

The great event, probably the greatest, in the life of every lawyer, is his first trial. A thousand employments may come subsequently of higher importance and vastly richer compensation, but that one will never be forgotten. The old practitioner may be carried by retainers from the County Court to the Supreme Court of the State, and for that matter to the Supreme Court of the

United States; he may have achieved a national reputation, yet, if one will ask him of his life, he will not fail to go back to his first suit and give you faithfully and in the minutest details all its particulars.

The Indianapolis bar at the time young Harrison sought admission to it was composed of gentlemen of unusual ability and reputation. The mere mention of their names is sufficient to justify the statement. Oliver H. Smith, Lucien Barbour, Calvin Fletcher, Ovid Butler, Simon Yandes (of the firm of Fletcher, Butler & Yandes), William Quarles, Hiram Brown, Hugh O'Neal, ex-Governor David Wallace, John L. Ketcham, James Morrison, David McDonald, were seniors in the practice. There were others rising into notoriety who might be mentioned: John Coburn, Napoleon B. Taylor, Albert G. Porter, William Wallace, all of secured renown now, were of the second class. The first named, however, were in the full tide of practice and of ability to make an impression in any court of the Union. In that day speaking ability was especially required; the tyro who was without it was thought to be a hopeless case in advance. The mere office lawyer was a subject of pity, if not contempt. If in the family there was a boy who had what was called the "gift of gab," his parents and friends foreordained him to the law. Opinion in that respect has undergone a somewhat radical change; but without dwelling upon it every one