as the counsel finished his harangue, much refreshed at least, if not
instructed by it, and proceeded to give judgment in the case. He was
noted for his tenderness to the poor, and it is said that he had on
their account almost as much business after he withdrew from the bar as
before. He died in 1820, at the age of sixty, and was buried in St.
Paul's, within a few feet of his compatriot Mathews. When Col. Nivison,
in December, 1776, was returning to his lodgings after organizing the
Phi Beta Kappa Society, he might have seen a pretty infant of two years
in the nurse's arms, or toddling in the shade of Waller's grove; but he
could not have foreseen that the same little fellow would in the course
of time worry him with all the art of the special pleader, and finally
receive from him the hand of his eldest daughter; and that when he
should withdraw from the bar, he was to leave all his business in the
hands of that child.

But there was a young man, a member of the bar in 1802, whose elegant
person, whose winning address, whose uncommon abilities, which were
associated with industry and perseverance quite as uncommon, and whose
glowing patriotism, would have made an impression in any country and in
any age, and gained distinction in any sphere. Under such a portrait the
name of one man only can be written--that of ROBERT BARRAUD TAYLOR.
Young Taylor was eleven months older than Tazewell, was born in
Smithfield, attended in Norfolk the school of that elegant scholar, the
late Dr. Alexander Whitehead, became a student of William and Mary
College, where he remained till his duel with John Randolph, in which he
received a ball that he carried to his grave; studied law with Judge
Marshall, and in 1796, at the age of twenty-two, engaged in the practice
of the law in this city. His fine talents attracted universal attention,
and business crowded upon him. His voice, action, eloquence, were all in
fine harmony. As the district court system was then in operation, he had