his ancestral land. But he regarded the law of
admiralty with peculiar and almost hereditary affection.
It suited the caste of his intellect. No ordinary
horizon bounded its sphere. It overlooked the
limits of any single realm, however proud that realm
might seem. It was the queen of the sea, whose
influence, cast far and wide over the raging billows,
breathed peace and safety to the humblest sailor who
trod a deck, and upheld with all the strength of civilized
man the flag of the feeblest power. Amid the changing
revolutions of the human will, amid the fall of empires
and the ruin of dynasties, it alone was immutable.
It was the tie of nations, which bound men in one
universal brotherhood, and gathered peoples about a
common altar. No private rule, no immemorial
custom, no formal statute, controlled its operations;
but right reason in all its supremacy enacted its
provisions, and justice, with an even hand, in every
dominion and on every sea under heaven, was its pure
and equal administrator. Tazewell was fond of
repeating that eloquent and exact definition of the
general law, which Lord Mansfield, plucking it from
the fragments of Cicero’s work on the Republic,
has made the household thought of our common nature:
Non erit alia lex Romae, alia Athenis, alia nunc,
alia posthac, sed et apud omnes gentes et omnia tempora,
una eademque lex obtinebit.[14] Such a science
suited the complexion of Tazewell’s genius;
and in his practice he had framed a large and liberal
system of his own. The task would have been a
work of love, and would have required little more
than the embodiment of his thoughts on paper.
But the engagements and associations of Southern life
are hostile to authorship, and the fortunate time
glided by forever.
A hundred years hence, when Norfolk may or may not
have become the commercial seat of a vast Southern
empire; when the face of external nature in this low
region, unmarked by mountain ranges, will be wholly
changed in all but in the course of our great river
and of our two glorious seas; and when the rising
genius of Virginia, turning from the sages and statesmen
of Greece and Rome, from Socrates and Demosthenes,
and from Cato and Cincinnatus, shall seek to know the
details of the lives of the greater men who have adorned
our own annals; it may be pleasing to know the spot
in which Tazewell spent his latter years, and the
manner of his private life. Simplicity marked
his dress, his dwelling and its furniture, and all
his accompaniments. His house and grounds were
such as appeared, if you looked into the assessors’
books, of considerable value; but if you looked at
the objects themselves, they were such as any respectable
citizen might possess without the reputation of great
wealth. The lot, bounded on the east by Granby
street, included several acres in the heart of the
city; and the house, which, though capacious, had
no idle room, was a plain structure of wood built
originally by a private citizen of moderate means as