THE TRAINING OF THE OLD VIRGINIA LAWYER
His training was not always that of the modern law-class; but it was more than a substitute for it; and it was of its own kind complete. He "read law under" some old lawyer, some friend of his father or himself, who, although not a professor, was, without professing it, an admirable teacher. He associated with him constantly, in season and out of season; he saw him in his every mood; he observed him in intercourse with his clients, with his brothers of the bar, with the outside world; he heard him discourse of law, of history, of literature, of religion, of philosophy; he learned from him to ponder every manifestation of humanity; to consider the great underlying principles into which every proposition was resolvable; he found in him an exemplification of much that he inculcated, and a frank avowal of that wherein he failed. He learned to accept Lord Coke's dictum, "melior est petere fontes quam sectari rivulos"—to look to the sources rather than to tap the streams; he fed upon the strong meat of the institutes and the commentaries with the great leading cases which stand now as principles; he received by absorption the traditions of the profession. On these, like a healthy child, he grew strong without taking note. Thus in due time when his work came he vas fully equipped. His old tutor had not only taught him law; he had taught him that the law was a science, and a great, if not the greatest, science. He had impressed him with the principles which he himself held, and they were sound; he had stamped upon his mind the conviction, that he, his tutor, was the greatest lawyer of his time, a conviction which no subsequent observation or experience ever served to remove.
He had made his mark, perhaps unexpectedly, in some case in which the force of his maturing intellect had suddenly burst forth, astonishing alike the bar and the bench and enrapturing the public. Perhaps it was a criminal case; perhaps one in
