Upon his rugged honesty, I need not dwell. The _sobriquet_ of "Honest Abe" was early won by him and never lost. In his profession--a profession in which, too often, cunning and deceit, falsehood and dishonesty, are the means, and robbery the end--a profession in which, too often, Injustice is a purpled Dives sitting at a bounteous board, and Justice, a ragged Lazarus lying at the gate--he never wavered in his loyalty to truth, to justice, and to honesty. Engaged in a just cause, he was one of the most powerful advocates that ever addressed a judge or jury; engaged in an unjust cause, he was the weakest member of his bar. In fact, he could not be induced to plead a cause in which he did not see some element of justice, even though the technicalities of law insured success. To one who had sought his services and had stated his case, he replied: "Yes, I can win it; but there are some things _legally_ right that are not _morally_ right; this is one: I cannot take your case." He was once employed to defend a person accused of murder. As the trial progressed, it became apparent to him that his client had done the deed. Turning to his associate counsel, with a look of disappointment and pain, he said: "Swett, the man is guilty; you defend him; I cannot." On another occasion, when he discovered that his client had grossly imposed upon his confidence and instituted an unjust suit, he left the court-room, and when the bailiff called for him, he answered: "Tell Judge Treat that I can't come; _I have to wash my hands_." He was the most magnanimous of men. William H. Seward, his chief opponent for the Presidential nomination, he made the Premier of his Cabinet. Secretary Chase became his political, if not his personal, enemy. Yet, recognizing his fitness for the place, he waived all personal grievances and appointed him to the exalted position of Chief Justice of the United States, the highest gift within the power of a President to bestow. During his professional career he was sent to Cincinnati to assist Edwin M. Stanton in an important legal case. The grim Stanton had never met this plain, Western lawyer before, and displeased at his uncouth appearance, and apparent lack of ability, treated him so discourteously that Lincoln's self-respect compelled him to practically withdraw from the case. It was a brutal affront, too poignant for him ever to forget, but not to forgive, and linked together on one of the most momentous pages of history stand the names of Lincoln and Stanton, an enduring witness to his sublime magnanimity.