Next we read of his being made chief-justice of the Superior Court of Tennessee, with no more fitness for administering the law than he had for making it, or interest in it.  Mr. Parton tells an anecdote of Jackson at this time which, whether true or not, illustrates his character as well as the rude conditions amid which he made himself felt.  He was holding court in a little village in Tennessee, when a great, hulking fellow, armed with a pistol and bowie-knife, paraded before the little court-house, and cursed judge, jury, and all assembled.  Jackson ordered the sheriff to arrest him, but that functionary failed to do it, either alone or with a posse.  Whereupon Jackson caused the sheriff to summon him as posse, adjourned court for ten minutes, walked out and told the fellow to yield or be shot.

In telling why he surrendered to one man, when he had defied a crowd, the ruffian afterwards said:  “When he came up I looked him in the eye, and I saw shoot.  There wasn’t shoot in nary other eye in the crowd.  I said to myself, it is about time to sing small; and so I did.”

It was by such bold, fearless conduct that Jackson won admiration,—­not by his law, of which he knew but little, and never could have learned much.  The law, moreover, was uncongenial to this man of action, and he resigned his judgeship and went for a short time into business,—­trading land, selling horses, groceries, and dry-goods,—­when he was appointed major-general of militia.  This was just what he wanted.  He had now found his place and was equal to it.  His habits, enterprises, dangers, and bloody encounters, all alike fitted him for it.  Henceforth his duty and his pleasure ran together in the same line.  His personal peculiarities had made him popular; this popularity had made him prominent and secured to him offices for which he had no talent, seeing which he dropped them; but when a situation was offered for which he was fitted, he soon gained distinction, and his true career began.

It was as an Indian fighter that he laid the foundation of his fame.  His popularity with rough people was succeeded by a series of heroic actions which brought him before the eyes of the nation.  There was no sham in these victories.  He fairly earned his laurels, and they so wrought on the imagination of the people that he quickly became famous.

But before his military exploits brought him a national reputation he had become notorious in his neighborhood as a duellist.  He was always ready to fight when he deemed himself insulted.  His numerous duels were very severely commented on when he became a candidate for the presidency, especially in New England.  But duelling was a peculiar Southern institution; most Southern people settled their difficulties with pistols.  Some of Jackson’s duels were desperate and ferocious.  He was the best shot in Tennessee, and, it is said, could lodge two successive balls in the same hole.  As early as 1795 he fought with a fellow lawyer by the name of Avery.  In 1806 he killed in a duel Charles Dickinson, who had spoken disparagingly of his wife, whom he had lately married, a divorced woman, but to whom he was tenderly attached as long as she lived.  Still later he fought with Thomas H. Benton, and received a wound from which he never fully recovered.