The Life of Sir James Fitzjames Stephen, Bart., K.C.S.I Part 21

Meanwhile, it seemed to indicate that James had literary tastes which would interfere with his devotion to the bar. Some months later (June 1888) his father appointed him to the clerks.h.i.+p of a.s.size on the South Wales circuit, which had become vacant by the death of Maine's son.

He now took comparatively little interest in his profession and spoke of taking more exclusively to literature. Clearer symptoms showed themselves before long of the disease caused by the accident. I have no wish to dwell upon that painful topic. It is necessary, however, to say that it gradually became manifest that he was suffering from a terrible disease. He had painful periods of excitement and depression.

Eccentricities of behaviour caused growing anxiety to his family; and especially to his father, whose own health was beginning to suffer from independent causes. I will only say that exquisitely painful as the position necessarily was to all who loved him, there was something strangely pathetic in his whole behaviour. It happened that I saw him very frequently at the time; and I had the best reasons for remarking that, under all the distressing incidents, the old most lovable nature remained absolutely unaffected. No one could be a more charming companion, not only to his contemporaries but to his elders and to children, for whose amus.e.m.e.nt he had a special gift. He would reason in the frankest and most good-humoured way about himself and his own affairs, and no excitement prevented him for a moment from being courteous and affectionate.

He resolved at last to settle at Cambridge in his own college in October 1890; resigning his clerks.h.i.+p at the same time. At Cambridge he was known to everyone, and speedily made himself beloved both in the University and the town. He spoke at the Union and gave lectures, which were generally admired. And here, too, in 1891 he published two little volumes of verse: 'Lapsus Calami' and 'Quo Musa Tendis?' Four editions of the first were published between April and August.[201] It started with an address to Calverley, most felicitous of minor poets of Cambridge; and the most skilful practisers of the art thought that James had inherited a considerable share of his predecessor's gift. I, however, cannot criticise. No one can doubt that the playful verses and the touches of genuine feeling show a very marked literary talent, if not true poetic power. He seems, I may remark, to have had a special affinity for Browning, whom he parodied in a way which really implied admiration. He took occasion to make a graceful apology in some verses upon Browning's death.[202] But to me the little volume and its successor speak more of the bright and affectionate nature which it indicates, and the delight, veiled by comic humour, in his friends.h.i.+ps and in all the school and college a.s.sociations endeared by his friends'

society. The 'Quo Musa Tendis?' composed chiefly of poems contributed to various papers in the interval, appeared in September 1891.

Mr. Oscar Browning quotes some phrases from one of James's letters in November, which dwell with lively antic.i.p.ation upon the coming term. For a time, in fact, he seemed to be in excellent spirits and enjoying his old pursuits and amus.e.m.e.nts. But a change in his condition soon occurred. He had to leave Cambridge at the end of November; and he died on February 3, 1892. Many bright hopes were buried with him; but those who loved him best may find some solace in the thought that few men have been so surrounded by the affection of their fellows, or have had, in spite of the last sad troubles, so joyous or so blameless a life.

James's college friends have put up a bra.s.s to his memory in King's College Chapel. His family erected a fountain near Anaverna. His father added a drinking-cup as his own special gift, and took the first draught from it October 25, 1892, when about to take his final leave of the place.

VI. CONCLUSION

What remains to be told of Fitzjames's life shall be given as briefly as may be. The death of James had been preceded by the death of Lord Lytton, November 24, 1891, which was felt deeply by the survivor. His own health gave fresh cause for anxiety during the latter part of 1889, though happily he had little suffering at any time beyond some incidental inconvenience. On March 17, 1890, he had an attack of illness during the a.s.sizes at Exeter resembling that which he had previously had at Derby. He was again ordered to rest for three months. Sir A. Clark allowed him to go on circuit in the summer. Lord Coleridge was his colleague, and Fitzjames enjoyed his society. He afterwards went to Anaverna, and, though unable to walk far, took much pleasure in long drives. Meanwhile it began to be noticed that his mind was less powerful than it had hitherto been. It was an effort to him to collect his thoughts and conduct a case clearly. A competent observer stated as his general view that Fitzjames was at intervals no longer what he had been--a remarkably strong judge--but that he could still discharge his duties in a way which would have caused no unfavourable comments had he been new to the work. Remarks, however, began to be made in the press which may have been more or less exaggerated. I need only say that Fitzjames himself was quite unconscious of any inability to do his duty, and for some time heard nothing of any comments. In March 1891 he was on circuit at Exeter again with Lord Coleridge. It was thought right that certain public remarks should be brought under his notice. He immediately took the obviously right course. He consulted Sir Andrew Clark, who advised resignation. Fitzjames did his last work as judge at Bristol, March 15 to 23, and finally resigned on April 7, 1891, when he took leave of his colleagues at an impressive meeting. The Attorney-General, Sir R. Webster, expressed the feelings of the bar; and the final 'G.o.d bless you all,' with which he took leave of the members of his old profession, remains in the memory of his hearers. He was created a baronet in recognition of his services, and received the usual pension.

I may here mention that he was elected a corresponding member of the 'Inst.i.tut de France' in 1888 ('Academie des Sciences morales et politiques'). The election, I believe, was due to M. de Franqueville, the distinguished French jurist, with whom he had formed a warm friends.h.i.+p in later years. He also received the honorary degree of LL.D.

from the University of Edinburgh in 1884, and was an honorary member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

After his retirement his health fluctuated. He visited Froude at Salcombe in June, and was able to enjoy sailing. He afterwards went to Homburg, and in the autumn was able to walk as well as drive about Anaverna. He wrote an article or two for the 'Nineteenth Century,' and he afterwards amused himself by collecting the articles of which I have already spoken, published in three small volumes (in 1892) as 'Horae Sabbaticae.' On the whole, however, he was gradually declining. The intellect was becoming eclipsed, and he was less and less able to leave his chair. Early in 1893 he became finally unable to walk up and down stairs, and in the summer it was decided not to go to Anaverna. He was moved to Red House Park, Ipswich, in May, where he remained to the end.

It had the advantage of a pleasant garden, which he could enjoy during fine weather. During this period he still preserved his love of books, and was constantly either reading or listening to readers. His friends felt painfully that he was no longer quite with them in mind. Yet it was touching to notice how scrupulously he tried, even when the effort had become painful, to receive visitors with all due courtesy, and still more to observe how his face lighted up with a tender smile whenever he received some little attention from those dearest to him. It is needless to say that of such loving care there was no lack. I shall only mention one trifling incident, which concerned me personally. I had been to see him at Ipswich. He was chiefly employed with a book, and though he said a few words, I felt doubtful whether he fully recognised my presence. I was just stepping into a carriage on my departure when I became aware that he was following me to the door leaning upon his wife's arm. Once more his face was beaming with the old hearty affection, and once more he grasped my hand with the old characteristic vigour, and begged me to give his love to my wife. It was our last greeting.

I can say nothing of the intercourse with those still nearer to him. He had no serious suffering. He became weaker and died peacefully at Ipswich, March 11, 1894. He was buried at Kensal Green in the presence of a few friends, and laid by the side of his father and mother and the four children who had gone before him. One other grave is close by, the grave of one not allied to him by blood, but whom he loved with a brotherly affection that shall never be forgotten by one survivor.

I have now told my story, and I leave reflections mainly to my readers.

One thing I shall venture to say. In writing these pages I have occasionally felt regret--regret that so much power should have been used so lavishly as to disappoint the hopes of a long life, for I always looked to my brother as to a tower of strength, calculated to outlast such comparative weaklings as myself; and regret, too, that so much power was expended upon comparatively ephemeral objects or upon aims destined to fail of complete fulfilment. Such regrets enable me to understand why the work which he did in India made so deep an impression upon his mind. And yet I feel that the regrets are unworthy of him. The cases are rare indeed where a man's abilities have been directed precisely into the right channel from early life. Almost all men have to acknowledge that they have spent a great portion of their energy upon tasks which have led to nothing, or led only to experience of failure. A man who has succeeded in giving clear utterance to the thoughts that were in him need care comparatively little whether they have been concentrated in some great book or diffused through a number of miscellaneous articles. Fitzjames's various labours came to a focus in his labours upon the Criminal Law. During his short stay in India he succeeded in actually achieving a great work; and I hope that, if his hopes of achieving similar results in England were disappointed, he will have successors who will find some help from the foundations which he laid. But, as he said of his father, the opportunity of directing your powers vigorously and in a worthy direction is its own reward. If to have taken advantage of such opportunities be the true test of success, whatever opinions may be held of you by others, and to whatever account they may turn your labours, Fitzjames may be called eminently successful. It often appears to me, indeed, that a man does good less by his writings or by the mark which he may make upon public affairs than by simply being himself. The impression made upon his contemporaries by a man of strong and n.o.ble character is something which cannot be precisely estimated, but which we often feel to be invaluable. The best justification of biography in general is that it may strengthen and diffuse that impression. That, at any rate, is the spirit in which I have written this book. I have sought to show my brother as he was.

Little as he cared for popularity (and, indeed, he often rather rejected than courted it), I hope that there will not be wanting readers who will be attracted even by an indifference which is never too common. And there is one thing which, as I venture to believe, no one can deny, or deny to be worth considering. Whatever may be thought of Fitzjames's judgments of men and things, it must be granted that he may be called, in the emphatical and lofty sense of the word, a true man. In the dark and bewildering game of life he played his part with unfaltering courage and magnanimity. He was a man not only in masculine vigour of mind and body, but in the masculine strength of affection, which was animated and directed to work by strenuous moral convictions. If I have failed to show that, I have made a failure indeed; but I hope that I cannot have altogether failed to produce some likeness of a character so strongly marked and so well known to me from my earliest infancy.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 176: _History of Criminal Law_, i. 418.]

[Footnote 177: _History of Criminal Law_, i. 265-272.]

[Footnote 178: Fitzjames had given a slighter account of this curious subject in the _Contemporary Review_ for February 1871.]

[Footnote 179: _History of Criminal Law_, ii. 81-3.]

[Footnote 180: _Ibid._ iii. 84.]

[Footnote 181: _History of Criminal Law_, ii. 175.]

[Footnote 182: _History of Criminal Law_, i. 442.]

[Footnote 183: Fitzjames discussed this question for the last time in the _Nineteenth Century_ for October 1886. Recent changes had, he says, made the law hopelessly inconsistent; and he points out certain difficulties, though generally adhering to the view given above.]

[Footnote 184: _History of Criminal Law_, iii. 367.]

[Footnote 185: _Nuncomar and Impey_, i. 1.]

[Footnote 186: _Nuncomar and Impey_, ii. 114.]

[Footnote 187: _Ibid._ ii. 247.]

[Footnote 188: _Nuncomar and Impey_, i. 7.]

[Footnote 189: _History of Criminal Law_, i. 456.]

[Footnote 190: Fitzjames kept a journal for a short time at this period, which gives the facts, also noticed in his letters.]

[Footnote 191: _Law Reports, 6 Queen's Bench Division_, pp. 244-263.]

[Footnote 192: _Law Reports, 12 Queen's Bench Division_, pp. 247-256.]

[Footnote 193: The verses were published in the _St. James's Gazette_ of Dec. 2, 1881.]

[Footnote 194: His letters appeared in the _Times_ of March 1 and 2 and June 9, 1883, and were afterwards collected.]

[Footnote 195: His letters appeared on January 1, 4, and 21, and on April 29 and May 1, 1886.]

[Footnote 196: February 11, 1888; reprinted in the biographical notice by Sir M. E. Grant Duff, prefixed to the collection of Maine's speeches and minutes in 1892.]

[Footnote 197: I have used a notice in the _Cambridge Review_ of February 11, 1892, and some notes by Mr. Oscar Browning. I have also to thank several of James's friends for communications; especially Mr.

Cornish, now Vice-Provost of Eton College, Mr. Lowry, now an Eton master, Mr. Reginald J. Smith, Q.C., and Mr. H. F. Wilson, of Lincoln's Inn.]

[Footnote 198: I deeply regret to say that Professor Goodhart died while these pages were going through the press. The schoolboy affection had been maintained to the end; and Goodhart was one of James's most intimate and valued friends.]

[Footnote 199: Mr. Lowry mentions some other ephemeral writings, the _Salt Hill Papers_ and the _Sugar Loaf Papers_.]

[Footnote 200: The last was published at the end of 1884.]

[Footnote 201: A bibliographical account of the changes in these editions is given in the fourth.]

[Footnote 202: A 'Parodist's Apology,' added in the later edition of the _Lapsus_.]

BIBLOGRAPHICAL NOTE

The independent books published by Sir J. F. Stephen were as follows:--

1. _Essays by a Barrister_ (reprinted from the _Sat.u.r.day Review_).

London, 1862, Smith, Elder & Co. 1 vol. 8vo. (Anonymous.) Pp. 335.

2. _Defence of the Rev. Rowland Williams, D.D., in the Arches Court of Canterbury_, by James Fitzjames Stephen, M.A., of the Inner Temple, barrister-at-law, recorder of Newark-on-Trent. London, 1862, Smith, Elder & Co. 1 vol. 8vo. Pp. xlviii. 335.

3. _A General View of the Criminal Law of England_, by James Fitzjames Stephen, M.A., of the Inner Temple, barrister-at-law, recorder of Newark-on-Trent. London and Cambridge, 1863, Macmillan & Co. 1 vol. 8vo. Pp. xii. 499.