A story somewhat similar to the above was told by the late Judge John Pearson shortly before his death.  In the February term, 1850, of the Circuit Court of Vermilion County, Illinois, a case was being tried in which a young lady had brought suit for $10,000 against a recreant lover who had married another girl.  The amount sued for was thought to be an enormous sum in those days, and the ablest talent to be found was brought into requisition by both sides.  Richard Thompson and Daniel W. Voorhees were associated with O.L.  Davis for the fair plaintiff.  H.W.  Beckwith, Ward Lamon, and Abraham Lincoln were for the defendant.  The little town of Danville was crowded with people from far and near who had come to hear the big speeches.  The evidence brought out in the trial was in every way against the defendant, and the sympathy of the public was, naturally enough, with the young lady plaintiff.  Lincoln and his associate counsel plainly saw the hopelessness of their cause; and they wisely concluded to let their side of the case stand upon its merits, without even a plea of extenuating circumstances.  Voorhees was young, ambitious, and anxious to display his oratory.  He arranged with his colleagues at the beginning that he should make a speech, and he spent several hours in his room at the hotel in the preparation of an oratorical avalanche.  It became generally known that Dan was going to out-do himself, and the expectation of the community was at its highest tension.  The little old court-house was crowded.  The ladies were out in full force.  Voorhees came in a little late, glowing with the excitement of the occasion.  It had been arranged that Davis was to open, Lincoln was to follow, and Voorhees should come next.  Mr. Davis made a clear statement of the case, recited the character of the evidence, and closed with a plain logical argument.  Then Lincoln arose, and stood in silence for a moment, looking at the jury.  He deliberately re-arranged some of the books and papers on the table before him, as though “making a good ready,” as he used to say, and began in a spirited but deliberate way:  “Your Honor, the evidence in this case is all in, and doubtless all concerned comprehend its fullest import without the aid of further argument.  Therefore we will rest our case here.”  This move, of course, cut off all future discussion.  Voorhees, with his load of pyrotechnics was shut out.  An ominous silence followed Lincoln’s remark; then Voorhees arose, white with rage, and entered a protest against the tactics of the defense.  All the others were disappointed, but amused, and the only consolation that Voorhees got out of this affair was a verdict for the full amount claimed by his client.  But he never forgave Lincoln for thus “nipping” his great speech “in the bud.”