because they were so entirely different. With much in common, for both were able, learned, and of the most devoted industry, there were other traits that belonged to one or the other of them exclusively. Greenleaf was singularly calm, finding strength in his very stillness; always cautious, and therefore always exact. Story was as vivid and impulsive as man could be. His words flowed like a flood; but it was because his emotions and his thoughts demanded a flood as their exponent. …Story’s manner was most peculiar; everybody listened when he spoke, for he carried one away with the irresistible attraction of his own swift motion. And Greenleaf, somewhat slow and measured in his enunciation, by the charm of his silver voice, the singular felicity of his expressions, and the smooth flow of his untroubled stream of thought, caught and held the attention of every listener as few men can.[1]
Charles Sumner, who served as assistant instructor for a time before his trip to England, makes the following interesting comparison in a letter from London written to Judge Story in 1838:
You know Lord Denman intellectually better than I; but you do not know his person, his voice, his manner, his tone—all every inch the judge. He sits the admired impersonation of the law. He is tall and well-made, with a justice-like countenance: his voice and the gravity of his manner, and the generous feeling with which he castigates everything departing from the strictest line of right conduct, remind me of Greenleaf more than of any other man I have ever known. [Again, in 1844]: Greenleaf takes the deepest interest in the unfortunate church controversy, uniting to his great judicial attainments the learning of a divine.[2]
There was indeed a strong Puritanical cast about the author of the “Treatise on Evidence.” This is observable in his portrait in the reading-room. He used to
