Est enim sine dubio domus jurisconsulti totius oraculum civitatis.

Mr. Bacon lived to celebrate his golden wedding, and ended a stainless and honored life in a ripe old age, mourned by the whole community, of which he had been a pillar and an ornament. His portrait hangs in the Court House where he would have loved best to be remembered.

In my early days at the Worcester Bar there were a good many bright men, young and old, who had their offices in the country towns, but who tried a good many cases before juries. All the courts for the county in those days were held in Worcester. Among these country lawyers was old Nat Wood of Fitchburg, now a fine city; then a thriving country town. Mr. Wood had a great gift of story-telling, and he understood very well the character and ways of country farmers. He used to come down from Fitchburg at the beginning of the week, stop at the old Sykes Tavern where the jurymen and witnesses put up, spend the evening in the bar-room getting acquainted with the jurymen and telling them stories. So when he had a case to try, he was apt to have a very friendly tribunal. His enemies used to say that he always contrived to sleep with one juryman himself, and have his client sleep with another, when he had a case coming on. He was quite irritable and hasty, and would sometimes break out with great indignation at some fancied impropriety of the other side, without fully understanding what was going on. I was once examining a witness who had led rather a roving and vagabond life. I asked him where he had lived and he named seven different towns in each of which he had dwelt within a very short time. I observed: "Seven mighty cities claimed great Homer dead." Wood instantly sprang to his feet with great indignation. "Brother Hoar, I wish you would not put words. into the witness's mouth."

Wood was a native of Sterling, a thinly settled country town near the foot of Mount Wachusett. The people of that. town were nearly equally divided between the Unitarian and Universalist congregations. Each had its meeting house fronting on the public common or Green, as it was called.

In the summer the farmers would come to meeting from distant parts of the town, bringing luncheon with them; have a short intermission after the morning service, and then have a second service in the afternoon. During the recess, in pleasant summer weather, the men of the two congregations would gather together on the Green, discussing the news of the town, and very often getting into theological controversies. In the winter, they gathered in the tavern or post-office in the same way. There was one Universalist champion who told the gathering that he would make any man admit the truth of Universalism in five minutes. He was a well known and doughty champion, and the Unitarians were rather loth to tackle him. But, one Sunday, Lawyer Wood came home to spend the day at his birthplace, and the Unitarians thought it was a good chance to encounter the Universalist champion. So they accepted his challenge and put Wood forward to meet him.

The Universalist theologian began: "You'll admit there is a God?"

"No, I'll be damned if I do," replied Wood.

The fellow was completely non-plussed. He had got to take up his five minutes in compelling Wood to admit the existence of a Creator. So he was obliged to retire from the field discomfited.

Another of our leaders at the Bar was Henry Chapin. He had made his way from a rather humble place in life to be one of the leaders of a very able Bar, Mayor of Worcester, and to hold a place of large influence in the various business, social, charitable and religious activities of the community. He was not specially learned, specially profound or specially eloquent. But he had a rare gift of seizing upon the thought which was uppermost in the minds of excellent and sensible men, country farmers, skilled workmen in the shops, business men, expressing it in a clear and vigorous way, always agreeing with the best sentiment of the people. This, with an unfailing courtesy and pleasant humor and integrity of character and life gave him great popularity. He was exceedingly happy in short speeches at dinners or at political meetings. He had a fund of entertaining

anecdote which never seemed to fail. He was very careful not to seem dogmatic, or to assert himself too strongly. He would put forward his opinion with saying, "It strikes my mind," or "It has occurred to me," or "I thought perhaps it was possible," or "It is my impression." I remember once protesting before old Judge Byington against some objection which the counsel on the other side had made to a witness testifying to his impressions. I told the Judge that Brother Chapin never in his life stated anything more strongly. If you asked him if he were married, he would say it was his impression he was. The Judge said: “Well, we have a lawyer in Berkshire County who has the same habit. Only if you ask him if he is married it is his impression he isn't."

It is said that when he went to see the Siamese Twins, he observed to the exhibitor, "Brothers, I suppose." But I believe that story had been told before of one of the Royal Dukes.

Mr. Chapin was nominated by the Republicans for Congress and accepted and would have had a useful and distinguished public life. But he became alarmed by the opposition of the Know-Nothings and withdrew from the canvass much to the dissatisfaction of his political friends. That ended his political aspirations. But he was soon after appointed to the more congenial office of Judge of Probate, which he discharged to great public satisfaction until his lamented death.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

SOME JUDGES I HAVE KNOWN

UNQUESTIONABLY the most important character in the legal history of Massachusetts is Chief Justice Lemuel Shaw. He was a great lawyer before he came to the Bench. He had written one or two very able articles for the North American Review, one of them a vigorous statement of the opinion of Massachusetts upon slavery. He was the author of a petition signed by many of the leading men of Massachusetts in opposition to the high tariff of 1828. No more powerful statement of the argument against high protection can be found. I have been surprised that the modern freetraders have not long ago discovered it, and brought it to light. He was one of the managers of the impeachment of Judge Prescott, securing a conviction against a powerful array of counsel for the defendant, which included Daniel Webster. He was consulted in difficult and important matters by eminent counsel in other counties than Suffolk.

But all these titles to distinction have been forgotten in his great service as Chief Justice of Massachusetts for thirty years. No other judicial fame in this country can rival his, with the single exception of Marshall. He was induced to undertake the office of Chief Justice very reluctantly, by the strong personal urgency of Mr. Webster. Mr. Webster used to give a humorous account of the difficulty he had in overcoming the morbid scruples of the great simple-hearted intellectual giant. He found Mr. Shaw in his office in a cloud of tobacco-smoke. Mr. Webster did not himself smoke, and was at some disadvantage during the interview for that reason.

Mr. Shaw was rather short in stature and, in the latter part of his life, somewhat corpulent. He had a massive

head, a low forehead, and strong and rather coarse features. He reminded you of the statues of Gog and Magog in the Guildhall in London. His hair came down over his forehead, and when he had been away from home for a week or two, so that his head got no combing but his own, it was in a sadly tangled mass. His eye was dull, except when it kindled in discussion, or when he was stirred to some utterance of grave displeasure.

There is an anecdote of Mr. Choate which occasionally goes the rounds of the papers, and which is often repeated quite inaccurately. The true version is this. I heard it within a few hours after it happened, and have heard it at first hand more than once since.

Mr. Choate was sitting next to Judge Hoar in the bar when the Chief Justice was presiding, and the Suffolk docket was being called. The Chief Justice said something which led Mr. Choate to make a half-humorous and halfdispleased remark about Shaw's roughness of look and manner, to which Judge Hoar replied: "After all, I feel a reverence for the old Chief Justice."

"A reverence for him, my dear fellow?" said Choate. "So do I. I bow down to him as the wild Indian does before his wooden idol. I know he's ugly; but I bow to a superior intelligence."

Judge Shaw's mind moved very slowly. When a case was argued, it took him a good while to get the statement of facts into his mind. It was hard for him to deal readily with unimportant matters, or with things which, to other people, were matters of course. If the simplest motion were made, he had to unlimber the heavy artillery of his mind, go down to the roots of the question, consider the matter in all possible relations, and deal with it as if he were besieging a fortress. When he was intent upon a subject, he was exceedingly impatient of anything that interrupted the current of his thought. So he was a hard person for young advocates, or for any other unless he were strong, self-possessed, and had the respect of the Judge. My old friend and partner, Judge Washburn, once told me that he dreaded the Law term of the Court as it approached, and sometimes