Judge Story removed to Cambridge, for the purpose of taking charge of the Law-school connected with the University. This institution had just received an endowment from Nathan Dane, which, together with the labors and reputation of the new Professor, were the prime causes of its establishment upon such a durable foundation, that the number of its students was increased five fold. From this period, his time was divided among Washington, during the sitting of the Supreme Court, the first circuit in the New-England States, and Cambridge, which henceforward was his home. The Law-school he regarded as his favorite and most important field of labor, and always recurred to his connection with it, with pleasure and pride; and a word concerning this Institution may, with propriety, be coupled with a description of his personal habits, so that both together will furnish, better than any thing else, a correct picture of the daily life of the man.
At the time that Story accepted the Dane Professorship in the Law-school in Cambridge he had already achieved the labor of a lifetime. A lucrative business at the bar, was quitted for a seat upon the bench of the Supreme Court of the United States. He began his political life as a democrat and stanch supporter of Jefferson, when there were not many such in Massachusetts; but in later life he became a whig. The natural effect of a judicial station upon a mind like his, was to make him cautious and conservative; and he finally seemed a little distrustful of even the party with which he was associated. In the convention of 1820, which formed the existing constitution of Massachusetts, he took an active part with such men as Webster, Parker, Quincy and Prescott, and many of our important mercantile statutes and bankrupt laws were drawn by him, nearly, or quite in the form in which they were finally passed by Congress. He had been for about eighteen years an associate Justice of the Supreme Court, when, without resigning that position, he assumed the almost equally onerous duties of a Professor of Law. This new field of activity was entered upon with earnestness and zeal, and it is not necessary to state the success with which his efforts were attended. Towards the students his manner was familiar and affectionate. He was fond of designating them as "my boys," and without assuming any superiority, or exacting any formal respect, he participated so far as he was able in their success and failure; and extended beyond the narrow period of the school, far into active life, that interest in their behalf which he had contracted as their teacher. His lectures upon what are commonly considered the dry topics of the law, were delivered with enthusiasm, and illustrated with copious anecdotes from the store-house of his memory and his experience, and filled with episodes which were suggested to his active mind at almost every step. Indeed, if one were disposed to point out his prominent fault as a legal writer, he would probably select that diffuseness of style and copiousness of illustration, which, though it contributes somewhat to fulness and perspicuity, does it nevertheless at the cost of convenient brevity; which can more easily be dispensed with in a poem than in a law-book. But that characteristic which might perhaps be considered as a blemish in his legal treatises, only rendered him better, qualified for a successful oral lecturer. A printed volume admits of the last degree of condensation, because repeated perusals of one page will effect every thing which could be expected from a prolonged discussion over many; and to text-books of law, the student or the practitioner resort principally for a statement of results, with the addition of only so much general reasoning as may render the results intelligible. In an oral lecture on the other hand, as the attention cannot be arrested; or time taken to overcome difficulties, repetition and reiteration, so far from being a blemish, is a merit. To these qualifications Story added engaging manners, and a personal presence, which gave him extraordinary influence over the young men who crowded to receive the benefit of his instructions. His zeal was contagious, and awakened similar feelings in his hearers, and the enthusiasm of the speaker and the audience acted and reacted upon each other. Many anecdotes are related to show the interest in the study of the law, which, under his magical influence, was awakened, not only among the few who are naturally studious, but among the whole body of the students almost without exception.
Saturday is a day of rest in Cambridge by immemorial usage. To force upon the undergraduates a recitation on Saturday afternoon, would outrage their feelings to such an extent, as to justify in their opinion a resort to the last appeal, namely, a rebellion. Yet under Story's ministrations the law-students were eager to violate the sacredness of Saturday, to which the Judge assented, animated by a zeal superior to their own. So that the whole week was devoted to lectures, and the conducting in moot courts of prepared cases. "I have given," says the Judge in a letter to a friend, "nearly the whole of last term, when not on judicial duty, two lectures every day, and even broke in upon the sanctity of the dies non juridicus, Saturday. It was carried by acclamation in the school; so that you see we are alive." One of the pupils describes a similar incident; a case was to be adjourned, and Saturday seemed the most convenient time, "the counsel were anxious to argue it; but unwilling to resort to that extreme measure. Judge Story said—Gentlemen, the only time we can hear this case, is Saturday afternoon. This is dies non, and no one is obliged or expected to attend. I am to hold Court in Boston until two o'clock. I will ride directly out, take a hasty dinner, and be here by half-past three o'clock, and hear the case, if you are willing. He looked round the school for a reply. We felt ashamed, in our own business in which we were alone interested, to be outdone in zeal and labor by this aged and distinguished man, to whom the case was but child's play, a tale twice told and who was himself pressed down by almost incredible labors. The proposal was unanimously accepted." The same interesting communication describes the scene which took place when the Judge returned to Cambridge in the winter from Washington. "The school was the first place he visited after his own fireside. His return, always looked for, and known, filled the library. His reception was that of a returned father. He shook all by the hand, even the most obscure and indifferent; and an hour or two was spent in the most exciting, instructive, and entertaining descriptions and anecdotes of the events of the term. Inquiries were put by the students from different States, as to leading counsel, or interesting causes from their section of the country; and he told us as one would have described to a company of squires and pages, a tournament of monarchs and nobles on fields of cloth of gold:—how Webster spoke in this case, Legaré or Clay, or Crittenden, General Jones, Choate or Spencer, in that; with anecdotes of the cases and points, and all the currents of the heady fight."
Judge Story's gracious and dignified demeanor upon the bench is too well known, and not closely enough connected with an account of his home life, to justify a description here. All who have spoken upon the subject, have borne witness to the kindness and courtesy with which he treated the bar, particularly the younger members, who most need, and best appreciate such consideration. No lawyer was provoked by captious remarks, or mortified by inattention or indifference, or that offensive assumption of superiority which places the counsel at such disadvantage with the judge, and lowers his credit with his clients and the spectators. With novices at the bar his manner was patient and encouraging, with the leaders whose position was nearly level with his own, attentive, cordial, at times even familiar, but always dignified. Among the prominent lawyers upon the Maine circuit, was his classmate in college, and intimate friend, Hon. Stephen Longfellow, the father of the poet, of whom the following story is told. When any objection or qualification was started by the Court, to a point which he was pressing upon its attention, too courteous to question or oppose the opinion of the Judge, he would escape under this formula, "But there is this distinction, may it please your honor;" which distinction, when it came to be stated, was often so exceedingly thin, that its existence could be discerned only by the learned gentleman himself. This little mannerism was known and observed among his friends in the profession, one of whom now living composed and passed round the bar this epitaph: "Here lies Stephen Longfellow, LL. D. Born &c. Died &c. With this Distinction. That such a man can never die." This epitaph reached the bench; and Mr. Longfellow himself, who not long afterwards on an argument, was met by a question from the Judge. "But, may it please your honor, there is this dis——" "Out with it, brother Longfellow," said Judge Story with a good-humored smile. But it would not come. The epitaph records the death of the distinction.
The interest which Judge Story felt in the prosperity of his University, was not wholly confined to the Law-school, with which he was immediately connected. He was one of the overseers of the College, and entered warmly and prominently into every question affecting the welfare of the Institution; from an elaborate and recondite argument upon the meaning of the word "Fellows," in the charter of the college,—the doubt being, whether none but resident instructors were eligible as Fellows, or whether the word is merely synonymous with socius or associate,—down to a reform in the social observances of the students upon the occasion of what is called Class Day. The old custom had been for the students on the last day of their meeting, before Commencement, to partake together of an undefined quantity of punch from a large reservoir of that beverage previously prepared. In more modern times, this habit came to be justly considered as subversive of sobriety and good order, and it was proposed to recast entirely the order of exercises. Of this reform Judge Story was an advocate; he was present at the first celebration under the new order of things, and was much gratified and elated at the change. Class Day is now the culminating point of the student's life—the exercises are an oration and poem in the morning, and a ball and reception in the afternoon and evening. More ladies visit the College on that day, than on any other, and the students have in lieu of their punch the less intoxicating recreation of a polka.
Judge Story was about five feet eight inches tall, not above the middle height, with a compact and solid figure; and active and rapid in his movements. He seldom, if ever, loitered along; his customary gait was hasty and hurried, and he had a habit of casting quick eager glances about him as he moved. The expression of his face was animated and changing, his eyes were blue, his mouth large, his voice clear and flexible, and his laugh hearty and exhilarating. Late in life he was bald upon the top of his head, and his white hair below, and the benign expression of his countenance, gave him a dignified and venerable appearance, particularly when seated upon the bench. His personal habits were regular and systematic in the extreme. He never rose before seven, and was always in bed by half-past ten. His constitution required eight good hours of sleep, and he did not hesitate to gratify it in that particular. It was never intended that all men should rise at the same hour, and it is no great exercise of virtue on the part of those who do not enjoy sleep, to get up early. After breakfasting he read a newspaper for a half hour, and then worked faithfully, till called off to attend the lecture room or the court. After dinner he resumed his labors so long as daylight lasted, and the evening was devoted until bedtime to light reading, or social recreation in the midst of his family. He could pass easily from one species of employment to another without loss of time, and by working steadily when he did work, he was enabled to go through a very great amount of labor without any excessive fatigue or exhaustion. In this way his life was prolonged, and he retained to the last, undisturbed possession of all his faculties. He died in September 1845, at the age of sixty-six, having been for thirty-four years a Judge of the Supreme Court of the United States, and for sixteen years a Professor of law in the school at Cambridge.