eceased was so much attached, and who returned that attachment with
all the ingenuousness and enthusiasm of educated and ardent youthful
minds, are here also, to manifest their sense of their own severe
deprivation, as well as their admiration of the bright and shining
professional example which they have so loved to contemplate,--an
example, let me say to them, and let me say to all, as a solace in the
midst of their sorrows, which death hath not touched and which time
cannot obscure.

Mr. Chief Justice, one sentiment pervades us all. It is that of the most
profound and penetrating grief, mixed, nevertheless, with an assured
conviction, that the great man whom we deplore is yet with us and in the
midst of us. He hath not wholly died. He lives in the affections of
friends and kindred, and in the high regard of the community. He lives
in our remembrance of his social virtues, his warm and steady
friendships, and the vivacity and richness of his conversation. He
lives, and will live still more permanently, by his words of written
wisdom, by the results of his vast researches and attainments, by his
imperishable legal judgments, and by those juridical disquisitions which
have stamped his name, all over the civilized world, with the character
of a commanding authority. "Vivit, enim, vivetque semper; atque etiam
latius in memoria hominum et sermone versabitur, postquam ab oculis
recessit."

Mr. Chief Justice, there are consolations which arise to mitigate our
loss, and shed the influence of resignation over unfeigned and
heart-felt sorrow. We are all penetrated with gratitude to God that the
deceased lived so long; that he did so much for himself, his friends,
the country, and the world; that his lamp went out, at last, without
unsteadiness or flickering. He continued to exercise every power of his
mind without dimness or obscuration, and every affection of his heart
with no abatement of energy or warmth, till death drew an impenetrable
veil between us and him. Indeed, he seems to us now, as in truth he is,
not extinguished or ceasing to be, but only withdrawn; as the clear sun
goes down at its setting, not darkened, but only no longer seen.

This calamity, Mr. Chief Justice, is not confined to the bar or the
courts of this Commonwealth. It will be felt by every bar throughout the
land, by every court, and indeed by every intelligent and well-informed
man in or out of the profession. It will be felt still more widely, for