the upper part of his head; but, by way of atonement, wore to the last,
sometime after it was dropped by others, a long queue, that attracted
the passing glance of the boys. He was, I think, except Seth Foster and
Moses Myers, the last of the queues. He came of an old Anglo-Saxon
stock. His name for centuries in Scotland and in England had been borne
by archbishops and illustrious laymen; and in our own times, in the
earlier part of this century, it was the synonym of British
philanthropy. But neither early nor late, in the Old World or in the
New, was it ever borne by a nobler or a purer man--a man over whose
grave more gentle and more precious memories should hover--than WILLIAM
SHARP.

When, in 1802, Tazewell appeared at the Norfolk bar, party politics were
in a state of active fermentation. The passions of men became involved
in the contests of the day to an extent which has not been reached
since, and entered into the private relations of life. Men of business
who had important cases for trial, and who were, for the most part,
attached to the federal party, called in the aid of the federal members
of the bar; but it was soon seen that the young republican lawyer, who
had voted for the resolutions of '98-'99, and for the report of
'99-1800, and who had helped by his vote in the House of Representatives
to elect Mr. Jefferson president, had introduced a new practice into the
courts, and began to win verdicts in the greatest cases from all his
federal opponents. The result was, as it always will be, that ability
and learning prevailed over prejudice, and Tazewell was soon employed on
the one or the other side of every great question. As an illustration of
the strength of the political prejudices which prevailed, and which
entered into domestic affairs, when Tazewell became a member of the
Norfolk bar, I may mention an incident I heard many years ago. When it
was rumored that Tazewell was paying his addresses to the eldest