Next to Chief Justice Shaw in public esteem, when I came
to the Bar in December, 1849, was Mr. Justice Wilde. He
was nearly eighty years old, and began to show some signs
of failing powers. But those signs do not appear in his
recorded opinions. He was a type of the old common-lawyer
in appearance and manner and character. He would have been
a fit associate for Lord Coke, and would never have given
way to him. I suppose he was never excelled as a real-property
lawyer in this country. He had the antiquated pronunciation
of the last century, a venerable gray head and wrinkled countenance,
with heavy gray eyebrows. He seemed to the general public
to be nothing but a walking abridgment. Still, he was a very
well-informed man, and had represented a district of what
is now the State of Maine in Congress with great distinction.
A friend of mine went rather late to church at King's Chapel
one Sunday when the congregation had got some way in the service,
and was shown into the pew immediately in front of old Judge
Wilde. The Judge was just uttering in a distinct, clear tone,
"Lord, teach me Thy statoots.
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