I travel entirely on horseback; and have had to swim, on my horse, over creeks and bayous that would astonish you Northerners.  Beyond Pearl river I had to ride, and repeatedly to swim, through a swamp four miles in extent, in which the water was all the time up to the horse’s belly.  What do you think of that for a lawyer’s life?

In the winter of 1836-7 he won the great “Commons” suit, which involved a considerable portion of the town of Vicksburg.  This made him, as was supposed, one of the richest men in the State.

About this time he was induced to run for the legislature of Mississippi.  He was elected, and at once took a foremost position as leader of his party.

The next summer he visited his home, and by a speech at a Whig political meeting in Portland, on the Fourth of July, he so electrified his hearers by his eloquence that he was pronounced, in the East, the most finished orator of his time; as he really was.  He became a candidate for a seat in Congress, and made the most remarkable electioneering canvass ever recorded.  Traveling on horseback, he visited forty-five counties in a sparsely-settled country.  For ten weeks he traveled thirty miles each week-day, and spoke each day two hours.  He had announced his engagements beforehand, and never missed one.  Mississippi was a strong “Jackson State,” but Mr. Prentiss carried it for the Whigs.  His seat was contested by his Democratic opponent, and his speech in the House of Representatives at Washington in favor of his claim gained for him a national reputation as the greatest orator of the age.  It occupied three days in its delivery.  He had not spoken long before intelligence of his wonderful oratory reached the Senate chamber and drew its members to the other House.  Rumors of his speech ran through the city, and before it was concluded the anxiety to hear him became intense.  The galleries of the House became densely packed, chiefly with ladies, and the lobbies were crowded with foreign ministers, heads of departments, judges, officers of the army and navy, and distinguished citizens.  Among the charmed auditors were the best American statesmen of the time who then occupied seats in both branches of Congress—­John Quincy Adams leading those of the Representatives, and Daniel Webster and Henry Clay of the Senate.  The entire self-possession of Mr. Prentiss, then only twenty-nine years of age, never forsook him in such an august presence.  There was no straining for effect, no trick of oratory; but, from the first to the last sentence, everything in manner, as in matter, seemed perfectly natural, as if he were addressing a jury on an ordinary question of law.  This feature of his speech—­this evidence of sincerity in every word—­with the almost boyish beauty of his face, bound his distinguished audience as with a magic spell.  When, at the conclusion of the speech, Mr. Webster left the hall, he remarked to a friend, with his comprehensive brevity, “Nobody can equal that!” [2]