In 1814, he was chosen by the legislature of this state a delegate to the convention of the New England states, assembled at Hartford, for the purpose of devising measures suited to the exigency into which they were brought by the war. This is not the time nor the place to discuss the merits of that convention. This however is undeniable, that New England sent to it her choicest, most gifted, trusted, and honored statesmen; and that whatever impartial history may say of the wisdom of the movement, it will pronounce their intentions pure and patriotic. It is proof of the estimation in which Mr. Sherman was already held, that he was selected to bear responsibilities which New England would confide to none but her most tried and able men. In this galaxy of eminent statesmen he shone as elsewhere with his own peculiar lustre. Of the nature, objects, and doings of the convention, he has given a detailed account as a witness in court, under the responsibilities of an oath, which has been published to the world.

From 1818 to 1839 he was almost wholly devoted to his profession, and held no public office, except that he was occasionally a representative of his own town in the legislature. He was not however without interest in, or influence upon, the legislation of the state. He originated and drafted many important laws, which have become inwrought into her fixed policy. Most of these have reference to the administration of justice; tend to abridge the cost and delay involved in vindicating our rights at law; and to abolish cumbrous formalities, which defeat or embarrass the attainment of justice.

In 1839, he was chosen Judge of the Superior Court, and Associate Judge of the Supreme Court for the revision of errors in this state. This station he was preëminently fitted to adorn. He brought to it rare legal learning, logical acumen, expertness in the practice of law, unbending integrity, untiring industry, a commanding person, a dignified and courteous address. I need not say that he filled the office with honor to himself and advantage to the state. His written opinions in the Court of Errors, published in the thirteenth and fourteenth volumes of the Connecticut Reports, will speak for themselves; and, alas! are the most important monuments of his great intellect which he has left to posterity. In May, 1842, he resigned this office, on account of ill health. Since that period, he has passed his time chiefly in domestic retirement, as increasing infirmities have increased his need of those genial supports and solaces which can only be found in the bosom of home. While his body has been gradually giving way, his intellect has wonderfully retained its pristine clearness, vigor and elasticity. It has scarcely been affected by the decays of age. To the last, so far as he had the power of articulation, his mind appeared to seize all subjects that came before it, with its wonted grasp. After a short illness, which reduced him more rapidly than the worst fears of his friends, he died, Dec. 30, 1844, at the age of seventy one years and seven months.

I will now attempt a brief delineation of his character.

His intellect, as has been already implied, was naturally of extraordinary power, invigorated by thorough discipline, sharpened by constant exercise, well stored by laborious research, and polished to a classical finish by the study of the finest models. To these high inward endowments, he added a noble person, a voice of uncommon compass, clearness and melody, a free and graceful elocution. Hence he was not only a powerful reasoner, but a powerful orator. His mind was clear, capacious, discriminating, comprehensive. Nor was it fitful in its vigor, now breaking forth in meteoric brilliancy, and then sinking into dullness and indolence; but it had an iron patience and perseverance, and was ever active, ever buoyant. This trait it possessed in a most extraordinary degree. It never seemed to flag or shrink from exertion, or lose its elastic vigor under any degree of bodily exhaustion or pain. There was no web of sophistry, no covert flaw or labyrinthine maze in an opponent's argument, which it would not readily detect and expose. And in constructing a positive argument, his method was logical and direct. Starting with some principle or fact which none could dispute, he would evolve from it link after link, till the conclusion which he sought to establish, before it was looked for, seemed fastened as by an adamantine chain. Above all, his mind loved clearness, and abhorred all obscurity and mist. He delighted to make things plain himself, and was impatient of all transcendental and dreamy speculations in others. He had great confidence in the power of truth and argument, and that what he felt to be true himself, he could make appear so to others. This gave an ardor and enthusiasm to his pleas, which was one great cause of his success. Nor were his studies and attainments exclusively professional. He was largely furnished with liberal knowledge. He was well versed in theology and metaphysics, and peculiarly fond of the exact and natural sciences. He was familiar with the science of government and political economy, and whatever it most concerns a statesman to know. Nor did he neglect elegant literature. This various knowledge he made tributary to his profession, in cases that could be illustrated by it, and sometimes astonished and delighted his auditors, as he poured forth its treasures.

But our venerable friend and brother was not only a great, he was also a good man: good, not merely according to the standard of worldly and fashionable virtue, but according to the Christian and evangelical code. His extraordinary gifts and endowments, the great fame and influence which they won for him, were strictly subordinated to moral and religious principle. "What things were gain to him, those he counted loss for Christ: yea, doubtless, and he counted all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our Lord."

He united with the church of Christ in Yale College at the age of twenty two, when he was tutor, and for nearly half a century has adorned the doctrine he then professed. As to his religious principles, they were those of our Pilgrim Fathers, in which he had been educated. He loved and revered the Puritan doctrine and the Puritan character. Nor did he adopt his principles merely from traditional authority or hereditary attachment. His great mind could receive nothing for truth, without inquiry and evidence. So thorough had this investigation been on his part, that there were few abler theologians than he, even among the clergy. Hence he was intelligent, earnest and steadfast in his religious opinions. Without bigotry, with the most catholic spirit, with hearty love for all of every name who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, he was himself a Congregationalist and a Calvinist of the school of Edwards, Dwight and Scott. These views he adopted because he believed them to be taught in the Scriptures, and to accord with his own religious experience. He felt that by the grace of God he was what he was. He was a man of prayer; and he prayed with all prayer, in the closet, the family, and the Christian assembly. He had great confidence in its efficacy, and believed the promises made to it.

He was clothed with humility, that most fundamental of Christian virtues. Indeed his modest, unassuming, unobtrusive spirit and manner, impressed all who became acquainted with him; it made his greatness still greater, and lent to it its peculiar charm, its crowning glory.

He maintained the strictest integrity and uprightness in all his public, private and professional transactions. He scrupulously adhered to truth, fulfilled his promises, abstained from any which he could not fulfill, would not sell his conscience for office or emolument, and discouraged what seemed to him to be groundless litigation.

He was remarkably kind and benevolent in his disposition, and free from the malevolent passions. He was mild, courteous, and benignant in his deportment, compassionate and tender towards the unfortunate and distressed, condescending and affable to all—not appalling even the humblest. He lent a charm and a dignity to the society in which he moved—of which he was always fond—which he illuminated and enlivened by his capacious mind and his high conversational powers. Nor will it be deemed an improper invasion of the sacredness of domestic grief, if I say, that he was a model of parental and conjugal love, tenderness and fidelity.