If we contrast the splendid figures with the salaries of the Judges of the Supreme Court at the United States, the motto of the Republic would seem to be Hamlet's "Thrift, thrift, Horatio." But if the levelling doctrines of the present day were to prevail, the British judges would soon descend to the money level of the American. I do not imagine they will. The illiberal treatment of public servants has never been popular in England.

There is nevertheless something in these high legal posts which attracts men to whom the pay, high as it is, can be no attraction. But that again only sharpens the contrast. The average income of the magnates at the American Bar being greater than at the English, and the salaries of the American judges being less than half those of the English judges, why should an American lawyer of the first class ever accept a judicial office? Clearly there are other and higher motives than mere money. There are Americans, we are told, who recognize in American life no motive higher than money. But are they Americans, or are they of the true American type? You might have asked Mr. Roosevelt when he was here last May. He is the most famous of living Americans and he certainly did not become so by the worship of money.

I have strayed far from Sir Francis Jeune, but the law and the things of the law must ever have an attraction for any one who has at any time, no matter how long ago, been in contact with them; otherwise than as a client. And I will stray further still in order to add that one of the greatest names at the English Bar, and now one of the greatest memories, is that of an American. I mean, of course, Mr. Benjamin. He had no superior. It is doubtful whether he had an equal in those duties of his profession in which he most cared to excel. I knew him a little. He sometimes talked to me of his career; surely the most remarkable at the English or perhaps any other Bar, since he was fifty-three when he came to this country. He always acknowledged heartily the kindness shown him, the facilities given him, the aid even of men who foresaw in him a dangerous rival, to make his path smooth. I said to him once:

"But you came here as the representative of a Lost Cause which the English had at one time almost made their own. That may have helped."

"Oh, no; the friendship of the governing classes in England for the Confederacy had passed into history. They had discovered their mistake. As they would say, they had backed the wrong horse. It was still some years to the Geneva Arbitration but they had begun to be aware they would have to pay, as others do when they put their money on a loser. However, I don't think that counted one way or the other. What did count was the good-will of English lawyers to another lawyer. That you can always depend on. They shortened the formalities. They opened the doors as wide as they could. And never once when I had gained a foothold did I find that anybody remembered I was not English; or remembered it to my disadvantage."

Taking his place as he did at the very head, he was a memorable illustration of Daniel Webster's well-known reply to the young lawyer who asked him if the profession was not overcrowded:

"There is always room at the top."

Mr. Benjamin passed swiftly from penury to affluence. He told me once what his highest earnings in any one year had been. The amount was larger by many thousands of pounds than the income of his chief competitor. It was larger, I think, than any English lawyer now makes except at the Parliamentary Bar, where the figures are almost fantastic. This is a money test but apply any other you like and you would still see the figure of Mr. Benjamin standing out from among the crowd and high above it; and above even the highest of that day.

I dined lately at the Inner Temple as the guest of a great and successful lawyer. There was a company of other successful lawyers and of judges. I asked a question or two about Benjamin. In that perfectly rarefied legal atmosphere there could be none but a purely legal opinion. And there was but one opinion. Most of these men had known him, though Benjamin died in 1884. Whether they knew him or not they knew all about him. His greatness was admitted. Eulogies were poured out on him.

"Did his American nationality hinder him?"