It seems idle to weave further these vain comparisons, particularly to invoke the living. But busy fancy revives the past, and persons and scenes renew themselves in my memory. I call to mind the recent Chancellor of England, the model of a clear, grave, learned, and conscientious magistrate,—Lord Cottenham. I see again the ornaments of Westminster Hall, on the bench and at the bar, where sits Denman, in manner, conduct, and character "every inch" the judge,—where pleaded the consummate lawyer, Follett, whose voice is now hushed in the grave; their judgments, their arguments, their conversation I cannot forget; but thinking of these, I feel new pride in the great Magistrate, the just Judge, the consummate Lawyer whom we lament.

It has been my fortune to know the chief jurists of our time, in the classical countries of jurisprudence, France and Germany. I remember well the pointed and effective style of Dupin, in one of his masterly arguments before the highest court of France; I recall the pleasant converse of Pardessus—to whom commercial and maritime law is under a larger debt, perhaps, than to any other mind—while he descanted on his favorite theme; I wander in fancy to the gentle presence of him with flowing silver locks who was so dear to Germany,—Thibaut, the expounder of Roman law, and the earnest and successful advocate of a just scheme for the reduction of the unwritten law to the certainty of a written text; from Heidelberg I pass to Berlin, where I listen to the grave lecture and mingle in the social circle of Savigny, so stately in person and peculiar in countenance, whom all the continent of Europe delights to honor; but my heart and my judgment, untravelled, fondly turn with new love and admiration to my Cambridge teacher and friend. Jurisprudence has many arrows in her quiver, but where is one to compare with that which is now spent in the earth?

The fame of the Jurist is enhanced by various attainments superinduced upon learning in the law. His "Miscellaneous Writings" show a thoughtful mind, imbued with elegant literature, warm with kindly sentiments, commanding a style of rich and varied eloquence. Many passages from these have become commonplaces of our schools. In early life he yielded to the fascinations of the poetic muse; and here the great lawyer may find companionship with Selden, who is introduced by Suckling into the "Session of the Poets" as "hard by the chair,"—with Blackstone, whose "Farewell to his Muse" shows his fondness for poetic pastures, even while his eye was directed to the heights of the law,—and also with Mansfield, whom Pope has lamented in familiar words,

"How sweet an Ovid Murray! was our boast."

I have now before me, in his own handwriting, some verses written by him in 1833, entitled, "Advice to a Young Lawyer." As they cannot fail to be read with interest, I introduce them here.

"Whene'er you speak, remember every cause

Stands not on eloquence, but stands on laws;

Pregnant in matter, in expression brief,

Let every sentence stand with bold relief;

On trifling points nor time nor talents waste,