table in their nature, was
desecrated. And, for many years previous to his decease, he had
contemplated resigning from the federal judiciary, and living alone for
his darling law school.

This school was his adopted child. He had taken it in a feeble and
helpless infancy. He had given it strength and increased vitality. He
brought it up to a vigorous and useful maturity. It was loved by only a
handful of students when he gave his name and talents to aid its life: but
when he died, a hundred and fifty pupils were its warm suitors, and
hundreds of lawyers over the whole union cherished its prosperity as a
link in their own chains of happiness.

And, although he thought not of it, his labors in the law school secure
for his memory in the present generation a more brilliant existence than
his array of judicial decisions, and his thousands of written pages, can
ever bestow. In some pine forest settlement of Maine, or in some rude
court-house in California, there are lawyers who bring before them every
day his genial smiles and his impressive lectures, looked upon and heard
by them in former times at Cambridge. Over all the Union, in almost every
village, town, and city, are his pupils. Each one of them may sometimes
reflect with rapture upon their days of college life, or remember with
pride their first professional success: but not one of these
considerations of reminiscence is so grateful to his mind as the thought
of his novitiate with Justice Story. Depend upon it he treasures up those
Cambridge text-books, those Cambridge note-books whose leaves
daguerreotype the learning of the eminent deceased, those catalogues of
students where his name is proudly found, as the most valuable portions of
his library. He will never part with them: but they will descend to his
children.

It was our privilege and pleasure also to know Mr. Justice Story at
Cambridge; to have spent days of pleasure in the hours of his society; to
have rendered to his teachings the tribute of delighted attention and
grateful recollection. We, too, have been fascinated with that
conversation, whose variety of exuberance and sometimes egotism, were its
greatest ornaments. In the sunshine of his intellect our mind has sunned
itself, and been warmed into zealous and proselyting admiration. To his
gray-haired teachings we have paid personal reverence, and we unaffectedly
hope to have caught from his society and intercourse a spark of that
professional enthusi