The ardent and excitable temperament of Prentiss, combined with his social qualities, required constant excitement.  When employed with the duties of his profession, or engaged in any matter of business pertaining to politics, or his relations in any capacity with the world, requiring attention, he was sufficiently excited to afford escape for the restlessness of his mind; nor did this man seem fatigued in such occupations sufficiently to require repose and rest.  On the contrary, it seemed to whet his desire for fiercer and more consuming excitement.  Whenever he went abroad, the crowd followed him, and the presence of the increasing mass stimulated his feelings to mild, social delight, and this led him too frequently to indulge beyond a proper temperance in the exhilaration of wine.  This, superadded to the fire of his genius, was wearing fearfully his vigorous physique.

For the first time, in the case of fraud against James Irwin, in which he made one of the most powerful efforts of his life, he manifested mental as well as physical fatigue.  It was my good fortune to listen to that speech made to a New Orleans jury.  I had listened many times to his speeches, and had thought some of these could never be surpassed by any man, not even by himself, and especially that delivered in Faneuil Hall, Boston, and the one delivered from the steps of the court-house at Vicksburg, after returning from his political campaign when a candidate for Congress.  But this one was even grander and more powerful than any I had ever heard from him.  Returning from the court-house with him upon that occasion, I remarked a flagging in the brilliancy of his conversation.  For a moment he sat silent in the carriage, and then remarked:  “I was never so much fatigued; I am afraid I am getting old.  I have not an idea in my brain.”

“Certainly, you have poured out enough to-day to empty any brain,” was my reply; “and you should be content not to have another for a month.  But I am sorry your invective was so severe.”

“Ah! my old friend,” he continued, “he deserved it all!  From my heart I feel he deserved it all!  The magnitude of his iniquities inspired the rebuke, and I exhausted my quiver in the attempt to pierce his shame; but I failed.  The integuments of his sensibility are armor against the shafts from my bow; and I feel the failure, but I don’t regret the attempt:  the intention was as sincere as the failure has been signal.”

“Why, what do you mean?” I asked; “for, assuredly, you have to-day made the most powerful and telling speech of your life.”

“Yes, telling upon the audience, perhaps, but not upon the victim—­he escapes unscathed.  I care nothing for the crack of the rifle, if the bullet flies wide of the mark.  I wanted to reach his heart, and crush it to remorse; but I have learned his moral obtusity is superior to shame.  I have failed in my attempt.”

This speech was followed by a challenge to Prentiss from the son of Irwin.  This was promptly accepted, and a meeting was only prevented by the interference of parties from Kentucky, Mississippi, and Louisiana.  The settlement was honorable to both parties.  Soon after, young Irwin died by his own hand.  He was a youth of brilliant parts, and promised a future of usefulness and distinction.