decisions and woe is it to him. No one thinks much of a judge who does
not know his business or at least does not pretend to know it.

How anyone who has been long on the bench can retain any sense of
proportion is remarkable. Whatever he says and does in court is final
and apparently approved. If his decisions are reversed they do not
affect him seriously; he has tried so many cases that were not
appealed, and the greater proportion of those that have been are
affirmed. The reversal comes a long time after and does not hurt his
feelings. In any event, he was trying to do the best he could and
human nature may be fallible, although, as far as he can see, the
whole world of the little court-room where he sits has conspired to
show him that he is divinely endowed.

His position is not exactly one of bluff, but he is the central figure
of the stage; like the actor's profession the judge's job makes him an
egotist. Take for example the essential elements of his knowledge of
the law. He is the _Jus Dicens_, the one saying the law, the name of
judge being derived from the two Latin words. He is supposed to know
the law, at least he ought to know court procedure, and the law of his
State thereon by heart. In New York State, for example, the Code of
Civil Procedure is five hundred thousand words long. He is bound to
take judicial notice without being told of all the statutes of the
State Legislature, which are being passed at the rate of six hundred a
year.

He is also supposed to know the laws of the United States passed at
Washington, and to be thoroughly familiar with the latest decisions of
the Supreme Courts of the United States, and those for the past 125
years. He must understand and look as though he knew beforehand any