knowledge for its own sake. [164] "Talis erat species auri frondentis opaca Ilice." _Æneis_, VI. 208. The spirit which glowed in his teachings filled his life. He was, in the truest sense, Jurist,--student and expounder of jurisprudence as a science,--not merely lawyer or judge, pursuing it as an art. This distinction, though readily perceived, is not always regarded. Members of the profession, whether on the bench or at the bar, seldom send their regard beyond the case directly before them. The lawyer is generally content with the applause of the court-house, the approbation of clients, "fat contentions, and flowing fees." Infrequently does he render voluntary service felt beyond the limited circle in which he moves, or helping forward the landmarks of justice. The judge, in the discharge of his duty, applies the law to the case before him. He may do this discreetly, honorably, justly, benignly, in such wise that the community who looked to him for justice shall pronounce his name with gratitude,-- "That his bones, When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em." But the function of lawyer or judge, both _practising_ law, is unlike that of the jurist, who, whether judge or lawyer, examines every principle in the light of science, and, while doing justice, seeks to widen and confirm the means of justice hereafter. All ages have abounded in lawyers and judges; there is no church-yard that does not contain their forgotten dust. But the jurist is rare. The judge passes the sentence of the law upon the prisoner at the bar face to face; but the jurist, invisible to mortal sight, yet speaks, as was said of the Roman Law, swaying by the reason, when he has ceased to govern by the living voice. Such a character does not live for the present only, whether in time or place. Ascending above its temptations, yielding neither to the love of gain nor to the seduction of ephemeral praise, he perseveres in those serene labors which help to build the mighty dome of justice, beneath which all men are to seek shelter and peace. It is not uncommon to hear the complaint of lawyers and judges, as they liken themselves, in short-lived fame, to the well-graced actor, of whom only uncertain traces remain when his voice has ceased to charm. But they labor for the present only. How can they hope to be remembered beyond the present? They are instruments of a temporary and perishable purpose. How can they hope for more than they render? They do nothing for all. How can they think to be remembered beyond the operation of their labors? So far forth, in time or place, as any beneficent influence is felt, so far will its author be gratefully commemorated. Happy may he be, if he has done aught to connect his name with the enduring principles of justice!