NEW YORK LAW INSTITUTE. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM, MICHAEL R. CARDOZO. 
 
 1851-1906. 
 
(Jortw 11 iEaro ^rlfonl Sibrarij 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924018771307 
 
NEW YORK LAW INSTITUTE 
 
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 NEW YORK 
 1907 
 
 
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From the Annual Report of William H. 
 Winters, as Librarian of the New York 
 Law Institute of May 24, 1907 : : : ; 
 
 The Law Institute meets under changed con- 
 ditions to-day, and we no longer, as in recent 
 years, are inspired by the interesting face, the 
 charming personality, the kind sympathetic in- 
 fluence and the intellectual skill and force of 
 Michael H. Cardozo. 
 
 With due regards to my last words with him, 
 I feel this is not the time and place to fitly and 
 fully comment on the character and value of the 
 services, he so freely and cheerfully gave to the 
 Institute from the time he entered its Executive 
 Council until the hour of his death. 
 
 It is sufficient to know that opportunity to re- 
 call such services, their character and value, will 
 not be wanting and that what he said and coun- 
 seled and above all what he accomplished in this 
 room and elsewhere for the lasting welfare and 
 success of the library will not be forgotten. In 
 the words of Cicero — Magnum opus omnino et 
 arduum conamur; sed nihil difficile amanti puto. 
 
 There stands in your books the record of 
 services of others in behalf of the library of more 
 than seventy years before he came to our help; 
 but the record mirrors no one so helpful as our 
 
 3 
 
departed friend, and I risk nothing in predicting 
 that his like or equal in library work as spokes- 
 man, adviser, as patient, laborious, cautions, 
 judicious and unselfish friend — wise both in 
 thought and in action — will not be ours again. 
 We shall not come to Shiloh and the sceptre and 
 ruler's staff of the beloved and invincible one 
 shall not depart. The silver cord is loosened, 
 the golden bowl is broken, and this Library, its 
 books, its rooms and associations can never again, 
 most certainly to me, and perhaps to others, be 
 the same. 
 
 It is reported that when Lord Chatham died, 
 there were two in Parliament who opposed the 
 resolution of respect and voted against attending 
 his funeral in the Abbey— the one was the Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, who owed his tiara to 
 Chatham's favor, the other a lord who was ac- 
 customed to wait in the lobby daily to help him 
 on with his great coat. 
 
 Our Cardozo of the smiling face and winning 
 ways left no such friends. 
 
 It was my experience to have the inquiry made 
 to me by a young man, a son of an old and prom- 
 inent lawyer, and who has since been promoted 
 to a judicial position, as to why we kept in our 
 rooms a portrait bust of James T. Brady, as it 
 was his impression and belief that Brady, al- 
 though a clever and popular politician, lecturer 
 and after-dinner speaker, was never a lawyer. 
 
 Such is the marvelous frailty of a lawyer's 
 fame, and no one recognized this fact with more 
 
keenness, quiet amusement and contentment than 
 our lost friend; and lie once said to me pleas- 
 antly in his office in reference to library work, 
 which had occasioned to him the loss or sacrifice 
 of many hours in discussion of plans to secure for 
 the Law Institute a building and to the library a 
 valuable and complete set of Columbia laws in 
 connection with Panama Canal affairs. "It is 
 idle to selfishly aim at to-morrow. It matters 
 not in a personal way what we accomplish for the 
 library, Mr. Winters — we both will be forgotten 
 as to such work as soon as we are put to our final 
 rest." 
 
 And yet in the years of conversation with hun- 
 dreds of members of the bar — conversations in 
 which my intense love and admiration of Cardozo 
 was always, sooner or later, forcing him to be, 
 especially to me, a never failing interesting topic 
 of discussion — I never once mentioned his name 
 to anyone, who did not know him, or who failed 
 to speak enthusiastically in his praise. 
 
 It was an exquisite pleasure to realize and 
 know that these men, one and all, had never flat- 
 tered him; for the flatterer always fails to praise 
 when the face is turned. 
 
 Of Cardozo many anecdotes could be told illus- 
 trating his gentle qualities, his manly virtues, 
 the modesty and unselfishness peculiarly his own, 
 the confidence and affection he inspired, and 
 above all to me the most surprising trait, and 
 which I witnessed in trying situations — his per- 
 fect fearlessness. 
 
The first time I saw Mm in the trial of one of 
 his law cases, my attention was attracted to what 
 seemed to me a novel and peculiar condition — as 
 ever now and then, with look and manner of one 
 accepting a favor, he would write orders and draw 
 books from our library as a member, at the re- 
 quest and for the use of his opponent. For here 
 was a man — with a bitter fight on — supplying his 
 crippled enemy with the ammunition of war and 
 paying for the privilege. Evidently Lord Byron, 
 describing Sheridan as a rare genius and magi- 
 cian, who could charm even a lawyer, and soften 
 his heart, had never met at the London bar, and 
 closely studied an English prototype of Cardozo. 
 A short time before his death, the entire bar of 
 his native city passed judgment on him as man 
 and citizen and on his professional work, and it 
 will stand for all time as the final human judg- 
 ment on his whole life's record, and as a most 
 precious legacy to his children. 
 
 I remember well his amused expression when 
 I was relating that in a talk with Judge Patter- 
 son — the judge had said that he (Cardozo) was a 
 good lawyer and I advised him to enter the saying 
 at once in his Index book of "Judicial Opinions." 
 With the quick wit in which he had few equals 
 he asked me "Well, did you agree with the 
 court?" I answered: "As things stood then — 
 yes. For old times sake I would have agreed 
 with Judge Patterson in anything; but if I had 
 been a member of the court and under responsi- 
 bility, who knows, I might have written a power- 
 
 6 
 
ful dissenting opinion." 
 
 A wonderful tribute to his integrity, ability and popu- 
 larity was awarded him, as I have said, only a few 
 weeks before his sudden death. 
 
 A Committee* composed of the most eminent men and 
 selected as representatives of the bar of New York City 
 placed him, as their first choice, in nomination for a 
 Supreme Court judgeship. 
 
 No such honor has fallen to any other lawyer within 
 the memory of this generation. 
 
 It was a unique honor, unsolicited and unexpected, 
 which only a Cardozo, an O'Conor or a Hughes record 
 could achieve. 
 
 I spoke of him once in this room and to his 
 face as the Sir Philip Sidney of our bar. 
 
 That I had the courage and unselfishness to 
 voice my truthful convictions and within the 
 range of his hearing, is strength and consolation 
 now, when justice and gratitude to the unlisten- 
 ing and unheeding dead are uppermost in my 
 thoughts of him who was the prophet's dream — 
 the man more precious than fine gold, and who 
 lingers in one's memory like the American beauty 
 rose, ever fresh, fragrant, inspiring and lovely. 
 
 *Of this Committee were : John M. Bowers, Arthur von Briesen , 
 Charles F. Brown, John L. Cadwalader, Joseph H. Choate, Wil- 
 liam G. Choate, William N. Cohen, Robert W. DeForest, John 
 F. Dillon, Benjamin F. Einstein, Austen G. Fox, Paul Fuller, 
 William D. Guthrie, William B. Hornblower, Charles E. Hughes, 
 Adrian H. Joline, Joseph Larocque, Wallace Macfarlane, David 
 McClure, James McKeen, John G. Milburn, John McLean Nash, 
 Hamilton Odell, Alton B. Parker, John E. Parsons. Eugene A. 
 Philbin, Harrington Putnam, George L. Rives, Elihu Root, 
 James R. Sheffield, Edward M. Shepard, Henry W. Taft, Leo- 
 pold Wallach, John Dewitt Warner and Edmund Wetmore. 
 
In a cold, selfish and swift-whirling world, it 
 must have been an angelic nature — the semblance 
 perhaps of the most lovable, the most charming 
 specimen of the cultured gentleman that God 
 perfected to bless mankind — to obtrude itself in 
 the pressure of busy hours of the day, in pure ; 
 holy, serious thoughts of even-time and in mem- 
 ory-colored dreams of the night. 
 
 Such a nature, despite his rough struggles with 
 fortune and his pathetic hidden grief, all will say, 
 was Cardozo's. 
 
 May sunlight and starlight, now and forever, 
 shine sweetly and softly on his grave.