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CHAPTER XXXIX.

A LAWYER'S THEOLOGY.

PART from education, early influences, and youthful training, there is a side of human nature, either impressed with spiritual beliefs or which, in normal natures, is an utter blank, awaiting such impressions.

It may be a quality of mind or soul, or it may be a faculty or an instinct. The wild Indian, without revelation or teacher, without church or priest, yet has the faith of a "Great Spirit" impressed on his soul. It is no answer to charge to superstition these intuitive suggestions that come, whence, no one knows.

"Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;

'Tis Heaven itself that points out a hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man."

That a descendant of the Huguenots, exiled for their religion, should have had an instinctive belief in Deity and revelation, seems in the natural order. That Huguenot faith, that caused its possessor to abandon home and country, cross the ocean (wider and stormier than now), and brave the perils of a savage wilderness for his faith, not only ought to have rescued his descendants from skepticism, but should leaven generations of that blood to come.

At what time Mr. Hardin first gave thought to subjects connected with the spiritual side of life can not be determined. For religion and its observances, he was early taught respect, and no youthful impulse or waywardness ever caused him to treat either otherwise. His devotion to his mother would have insured this much.

His beloved and faithful wife was a pious woman, and thus another tie bound him to the religion of his fathers. His devotion to her knew neither "variableness nor shadow of turning," from the bright day she became his bride to that dark one, when he heard the clod's fall on her coffin. They were bone of one bone, flesh of one flesh. and kindred in spirit. "I have never," said he, seen her on her bended knees, without feeling that I ought to go and fall at her side."

However far short he came of a religious life, yet, it is certain that from a very early age, he contemplated the time when he would make his peace with his Maker.

"I acknowledge very candidly," said he, on one occasion, "and I acknowledge it with a degree of shame, that I am not a member of any I have encouraged my family, black and white, to go to church, and I have contributed toward the erection of meeting-houses, perhaps, as much as any man, and no one is more devoted to the great Christian scheme than I am. But I have never played the Pharisee, nor prayed and bellowed in the public streets, nor proclaimed my religion from the house-tops."

While not free from the use of expletives, that had more strength than polish, yet he never used profane language. This assertion is based not alone on the testimony of those in position to know, but is consistent with his character. Although given to expressing himself strongly, yet he never used words save to express ideas. As much can not be said of many addicted to habitual profanity, who often hide their poverty of ideas by interlarding their conversation with oaths.

One, who knew him well, said Mr. Hardin was a great Bible student. He thought many portions of the Bible peculiarly eloquent, particularly the book of Isaiah. He was always religiously inclined, though not a member of a church until just before his death. He had a profound contempt for any man or woman who spoke disrespectfully of the Bible. In his religious opinions he was most decided. He believed in Christianity, in the existence of a God, and a state of future rewards and punishments. He had no sympathy with the Voltaires. of his day-the Voltaires, the Humes, and the Paines-and enjoyed greatly the ironical satire of Dean Swift, in his petition addressed to Bolingbroke and his friend, who had published a tract against Christianity. To another, Mr. Hardin once remarked: "The first book for a law student is the Bible." Said a minister, himself a scholarly divine: "Mr. Hardin was an excellent theologian."* If this sounds extravagant, remember that the "Autocrat" has announced that "we are all theological students, and more of us qualified as doctors of divinity than have received degrees at any of the universities."†

It was not until he came to the bar that he began the study of the Bible. Indeed, he had read it but little, until after his marriage. One pleasant evening, early in his career, as his young wife was sitting at the front door of their residence awaiting his return from his office, she saw him approaching with a bundle under his arm. When he came in speaking distance, her first question was as to the contents of his bundle. "Well, Betsey, I will tell you; Rowan and the other lawyers are always quoting scripture on me in their speeches, and d-d

The late Rev. S. L. Helm.

Autocrat of the Breakfast Table, page 33.

if I don't intend to know as much of it as they do. This is a Bible." He was not only fond of Isaiah, as above observed, but also of Job. "I consider them (Isaiah and Job) the most eloquent I ever read, except the twenty-third chapter of Matthew, where it takes hold of those it calls Pharisees, hypocrites, and scribes, and says: 'Wo! unto you, ye scribes and Pharisees.""

His mother was a member of the Baptist church, but his wife was a Methodist, and to the latter church he was always inclined. Said he, in 1849, "I am not a Methodist, but I am a lobby member, and I believe a good deal in that doctrine. I believe that good works go a great way toward getting a man into heaven; and that they are the best turnpikes and railroads upon which one can travel in that direction. There is a doctrine, once elected always elected, that I do not understand."

He was particularly fond of both vocal and instrumental music, and would frequently attend church to enjoy the singing, and would often weep under its influence.

"When at home," writes a valued correspondent, "he would frequently send for his niece and the writer to come to his house and sing for him. This was before he had made any religious profession, or disease or infirmity had given special warning to prepare for the hereafter. Among his favorite hymns were, 'Jesus, lover of my soul,' 'Show pity, Lord! oh, Lord, forgive,' and 'An alien from God and a stranger to grace.'

The following extract is from Dr. Redford's "History of Methodism in Kentucky:"

"Ben Hardin and his family were among the best and earliest friends of the Methodist church in Bardstown, and, in the course of years, became members of its communion. Mr. Hardin was peculiarly attracted by Methodist singing. This was the charm of Methodism to him. He would diverge at any time from his regular road on his tour to courts, to enjoy the luxury of camp-meeting songs. May Methodism never lose those warmhearted and energetic appliances which won the heart of that great lawyer.

"An anecdote, related to me both by Marcus Lindsey and Ben Hardin, ought, perhaps, to be preserved. Mr. Hardin had turned aside from his route to court in Hardin county, to stop at a camp-meeting, which Mr. Lindsey was attending. About midnight, Mr. Lindsey observed Mr. Hardin about to lie down on some clapboards between two tents. He kindly invited him to sleep in the preachers' tent. Accordingly, his guest laid down, but about two o'clock, a tremendous shouting was raised in the altar over souls converted.

Mr. Hardin sprang up very suddenly, and, rubbing

Dr. W. A. Hickman.

his eyes, exclaimed, with an oath, that if they kept on that way, they would kill the devil before day. Mr. Lindsey happened to be near, and remarked to him: 'That would be bad business for you lawyers, Mr. Hardin.' 'Yes,' said Mr. Hardin, 'quite as bad for you preachers, Mr. Lindsey, for it would break up both professions.""

The religion of the pioneers was, in a high degree, emotional. Spiritual regeneration, in those times, was attended with wild shoutings and mental perturbation, seemingly little short of insanity. The veritable stories told by pioneer historians of religious enthusiasts falling in swoons, beholding visions, and possessed of the "jerks" are rapidly assuming the tinge of romance. While Mr. Hardin was always a "believer," his clear judgment and sober reason caused him to shrink from participation in such excesses, and to question the divinity of their origin.

The late Bishop Hubbard Hinde Kavanaugh and Mr. Hardin were long, warm personal friends. Mr. Hardin was a very infrequent attendant on public worship, but was always in the sanctuary when Kavanaugh occupied the pulpit at Bardstown. That was in the days of the bishop's itinerancy-before he wore the highest honor of his church. But he was then conspicuous for piety, learning, eloquence, and rare mental gifts. Coupled with these, he possessed a racy wit, and herein was "the one touch of human nature," in which originated that allied friendship with Hardin that death only sundered.

While partial to the church of his wife, yet he was broader than any church in his views and feelings. When his son William died, while a student at the Roman Catholic college of St. Joseph, of Bardstown, although little more than a child, no objection was made to his receiving the consolations of that church. Afterward the eccentric William Downes, a minister of that anti-missionary branch of the Baptist church, which traces its origin to apostolic times, fell into a theological dispute with a Catholic priest. Mr. Hardin acted as the friend of Downes, and a debate was arranged. He supplied Downes with a handsome suit of clothes to wear upon the occasion, and, according to Spencer (the Baptist historian), the latter came off triumphant. In the constitutional convention, Mr. Hardin stood almost alone with Rev. Dr. John L. Waller, in the unsuccessful attempt to defeat the apparently needless restriction against clergymen occupy. ing seats in the General Assembly. It was charged to Mr. Hardin, to the discredit of his candor and sincerity, that "he was all things to all men," that he talked agriculture with the farmer, cooking with his

wife, medicine with the physician, law with the lawyer, politics with the politician, etc. He, undoubtedly, was fond of discussing the Bible and theology with the clergy, though his discussions never degenerated into disputes. His mind was full of that thirsting after truth that caused it to drink at every wayside spring that babbled and flowed by the path of life.

Mr. Hardin lived in the constant exercise of many virtues essential to Christian character. No one ever suspected him of being in the slightest degree a hypocrite or pretender. He was what he was and scorned all pretense. Hypocrites, pretenders, upstarts, and parvenus were his especial abhorrence. His honesty and integrity were never questioned. His word was ever his bond. Much as he delighted in professional victory, it was never charged that he won it by falsehood. He might, in discussing a case, ignore the law and the facts, but if he alluded to either he stated them fairly. He scorned the arts of sophistry and misstatement practiced by small and crafty minds. He was sober and temperate in his habits. He delighted in secret charities, and instances of generous deeds could be recorded touching in the delicacy with which they were done. In him, the widow and the orphan, the ignorant and the helpless, found an unfailing and constant friend. He always acted on the idea, though bound by no religious tie, that an account of his deeds was being kept, that much misdoing was punished in this world, but that somewhere in the universe and at some period in the cycles of time, the account would be settled, and that full and complete justice would be done. Such a man, so imbued by study with biblical wisdom, had not far to go to find the straight and narrow path that leads to life eternal.