There is no doubt that Mr. Webster derived considerable advantage from his association with his elder professional brother. He had adopted a style very common with young men, abounding in large words, and made his sentences longer than were needful. He observed that Mr. Mason, on the other hand, talked to the jury in a plain, conversational way, and cultivated simplicity of diction. Yet he was noted for his success in winning cases. Daniel was sensible enough to correct his fault and prune his too luxuriant style, very much to its improvement.

No admirer of Daniel Webster should fail to read the volume of “Reminiscences” by his lifelong friend, Peter Harvey. His confidential relations with his distinguished friend make what he records not only entertaining but trustworthy and valuable. I shall venture to transfer to my pages from Mr. Harvey’s volume an account of two cases in which Mr. Webster was engaged during his residence in Portsmouth, with the suggestion that the entire volume will amply repay perusal.

“Among Mr. Webster’s reminiscences of his professional career at Portsmouth, and of Jeremiah Mason’s connection with it, was one relating to a case in which a man named Bramble was implicated. Matthew Bramble, it appears, was a wealthy resident of Portsmouth, and, as the sequel proved, an unscrupulous man. His social position was good, but a feeling of distrust towards him existed in the community. It seems that Bramble had given to a man named Brown an annuity bond, agreeing to pay him one hundred dollars a year as long as he lived. This was to keep dominant a title to some real estate. Bramble had more than once tried to persuade Brown to take a ‘lump’ sum of money and cancel the bonds, but this Brown persistently declined to do, and in this he was supported by the advice of his friends. After in vain offering one thousand dollars, Bramble resorted to the following method of getting rid of his obligation. He was accustomed, when he paid the hundred dollars, to indorse it on the bond. The next chance he got, he indorsed, not one hundred dollars, but one thousand dollars, adding ‘in full consideration of and canceling this bond.’ Brown, who could not read or write, unsuspectingly signed his mark to this indorsement. Bramble then coolly handed him back the bond, and of course said nothing of the matter.

“When the year came round, an altercation took place between them.

“Bramble said, ‘I owe you nothing; I paid you a thousand dollars, and it is certified on your bond.’

“Brown was a poor shoemaker, simple-minded, truthful, weak, not capable of coping with this wily scamp. He was friendless, while Bramble was a rich man. Poor Brown did not know what to do. He had convinced his neighbors that he was right. He went to Jeremiah Mason, who told him he was Mr. Bramble’s lawyer. Mr. Mason had asked Bramble about the matter, and the latter had showed the bond, and Mr. Mason probably believed him. A friend then advised Brown to go to Mr. Webster; and after hearing his story, Mr. Webster was quite convinced of the truth of Brown’s statement. He had no confidence in Bramble. In relating the story, he said to me: ‘I knew nothing positively against Bramble, but something impressed me that he was not a man of honor. I was at once satisfied that he had committed this fraud upon Brown, and I told the latter that I would sue Bramble for the annuity. He said he had nothing to give me in payment. I said I wanted nothing. I sent Bramble a letter, and he made his appearance in my office.

“’“I should like to know,” he said sharply, “if you are going to take up a case of that kind in Portsmouth? It seems to me you don’t know on which side your bread is buttered.”

“’“This man has come to me,” I replied, “without friends, and has told me a plain, straightforward story, and it sounds as if it were true. It is not a made-up story. I shall pursue this thing, and sue you, unless you settle it.”’

“Bramble went to Mr. Mason, who afterwards said to Mr. Webster: ‘I think you have made a mistake. Bramble is a man of influence. It can’t be that the fellow tells the truth. Bramble would not do such a thing as that.’

“Mr. Webster replied, ‘He has done just such a thing as that, and I shall try the suit.’

“So the preliminary steps were taken, and the suit was brought. The case came on at Exeter in the Supreme Court, Judge Smith on the bench. It created great excitement. Bramble’s friends were incensed at the charge of forgery, and Brown, too, in his humble way, had his friends. Mr. Webster said: ‘I never in my life was more badly prepared for a case. There was no evidence for Brown, and what to do I did not know. But I had begun the suit, and was going to run for luck, perfectly satisfied that I was right. There were Bramble and his friends, with Mason; and poor Brown had only his counsel. And Mason began to sneer a little, saying, “That is a foolish case.”

“’Well, a person named Lovejoy was then living in Portsmouth; and when there is a great deal of litigation, as there was in Portsmouth, and many towns in New Hampshire, there will always be one person of a kind not easily described—a shrewd man who is mixed up in all sorts of affairs. Lovejoy was a man of this kind, and was a witness in nearly all the cases ever tried in that section. He was an imperturbable witness, and never could be shaken in his testimony. Call Lovejoy, and he would swear that he was present on such an occasion, and he seemed to live by giving evidence in this way. I was getting a little anxious about the case. I was going to attempt to prove that Brown had been appealed to by Bramble for years to give up his bond, and take a sum of money, and that he had always stoutly refused, that he had no uses for money, and had never been in the receipt of money, and that he could not write, and was easily imposed upon. But although I felt that I was right, I began to fear that I should lose the case.

“’A Portsmouth man who believed in Brown’s story came to me just before the case was called, and whispered in my ear, “I saw Lovejoy talking with Bramble just now in the entry, and he took a paper from him.”

“’I thanked the man, told him that was a pretty important thing to know, and asked him to say nothing about it.

“’In the course of the trial Mr. Mason called Lovejoy, and he took the oath. He went upon the stand and testified that some eight or ten months before he was in Brown’s shop, and that Brown mended his shoes for him. As he was sitting in the shop, he naturally fell into conversation about the bond, and said to Brown, “Bramble wants to get back the bond. Why don’t you sell it to him?” “Oh,” said Brown, “I have. He wanted me to do it, and as life is uncertain, I thought I might as well take the thousand dollars.” He went on to testify that the said Brown told him so and so, and when he expressed himself in that way I knew he was being prompted from a written paper. The expression was an unnatural one for a man to use in ordinary conversation. It occurred to me in an instant that Bramble had given Lovejoy a paper, on which was set down what he wanted him to testify. There sat Mason, full of assurance, and for a moment I hesitated. Now, I thought, I will “make a spoon or spoil a horn.”

“’I took the pen from behind my ear, drew myself up, and marched outside the bar to the witness stand.” Sir!” I exclaimed to Lovejoy, “give me the paper from which you are testifying!”

“’In an instant he pulled it out of his pocket, but before he had got it quite out he hesitated and attempted to put it back. I seized it in triumph. There was his testimony in Bramble’s handwriting! Mr. Mason got up and claimed the protection of the court. Judge Smith inquired the meaning of this proceeding.

“’I said: “Providence protects the innocent when they are friendless. I think I could satisfy the court and my learned brother who, of course, was ignorant of this man’s conduct, that I hold in Mr. Bramble’s handwriting the testimony of the very respectable witness who is on the stand.”

“’The court adjourned, and I had nothing further to do. Mason told his client that he had better settle the affair as quickly as possible. Bramble came to my office, and as he entered I said, “Don’t you come in here! I don’t want any thieves in my office.”

“’“Do whatever you please with me, Mr. Webster,” he replied. “I will do whatever you say.”

“’“I will do nothing without witnesses. We must arrange this matter.”

“’I consulted Mr. Mason, and he said he did not care how I settled it. So I told Bramble that in the first place there must be a new life-bond for one hundred dollars a year, and ample security for its payment, and that he must also pay Brown five hundred dollars and my fees, which I should charge pretty roundly. To all this he assented and thus the case ended.’”

Mr. Webster’s professional brothers were very much puzzled to account for his knowing that Lovejoy had the paper in his pocket, and it was not for a long time that he gratified their curiosity and revealed the secret.

My young readers will agree with me that Bramble was a contemptible fellow, and that the young lawyer, in revealing and defeating his meanness, did an important service not only to his client but to the cause of justice, which is often defeated by the very means that should secure it. In many cases lawyers lend themselves to the service of clients whose iniquity they have good reason to suspect. There is no nobler profession than that of law when it is invoked to redress grievances and defeat the designs of the wicked; but, as Mr. Webster himself has said, “The evil is, that an accursed thirst for money violates everything. We cannot study, because we must pettifog. We learn the low recourses of attorneyism when we should, learn the conceptions, the reasonings and the opinions of Cicero and Murray. The love of fame is extinguished, every ardent wish for knowledge repressed, conscience put in jeopardy, and the best feelings of the heart indurated by the mean, money-catching, abominable practices which cover with disgrace a part of the modern practitioners of the law.”