In this catholic spirit he showed true eminence. He loved the law with a lover's fondness, but not with a lover's blindness. He could not join with those devotees of the Common Law by whom it is entitled "the perfection of reason,"--an anachronism great as the assumed infallibility of the Pope: as if perfection or infallibility existed in this world! He was led, in becoming temper, to contemplate its amendment; and here is revealed the Jurist,--not content with the present, but thoughtful of the future. In a letter published since his death, he refers with sorrow to "what is but too common in our profession,--a disposition to resist innovation, even when it is improvement." It is an elevated mind that, having mastered the subtilties of the law, is willing to reform them. And now farewell to thee, Jurist, Master, Benefactor, Friend! May thy spirit continue to inspire a love for the science of the law! May thy example be ever fresh in the minds of the young, beaming, as in life, with encouragement, kindness, and joy! * * * * * From the grave of the Jurist, at Mount Auburn, let us walk to that of THE ARTIST, who sleeps beneath the protecting arms of those trees which cast their shadow into this church. WASHINGTON ALLSTON died in the month of July, 1843, aged sixty-three, having reached the grand climacteric, that famous mile-stone on the road of life. It was Saturday night; the cares of the week were over; the pencil and brush were laid in repose; the great canvas, on which for many years he had sought to perpetuate the image of Daniel confronting the soothsayers of Belshazzar, was left, with fresh chalk lines designating the labor to be resumed after the repose of the Sabbath; the evening was passed in the converse of family and friends; words of benediction had fallen from his lips upon a beloved relative; all had retired for the night, leaving him alone, in health, to receive the visitation of Death, sudden, but not unprepared for. Happy lot, thus to be borne away with blessings on the lips,--not through the long valley of disease, amidst the sharpness of pain, and the darkness that clouds the slowly departing spirit, but straight upward, through realms of light, swiftly, yet gently, as on the wings of a dove! The early shades of evening began to prevail before the body of the Artist reached its last resting-place; and the solemn service of the church was read in the open air, by the flickering flame of a torch,--fit image of life. In the group of mourners who bore a last tribute to what was mortal in him of whom so much was immortal stood our Jurist. Overflowing with tenderness and appreciation of merit in all its forms, his soul was touched by the scene. In vivid words, as he slowly left the church-yard, he poured forth his admiration and his grief. Never was such an Artist mourned by such a Jurist.