Chief Justice John Roberts [joined ](https://youtu.be/j8vUUl_vcKc)Judge Rosenthal of the Southern District of Texas for a conversation at the Baker Institute. It was a fun watch.

What struck me the most about the conversation was how intellectually curious the Chief Justice is and how much he loves history. Though both of those things are not surprising, considering his job title and his undergraduate degree in History. But it seemed as if he came to life more when he was telling a historical anecdote than when he expounded on the role of the judiciary in America.

For example, he talked about how when he first went into one of the conference rooms at the Court, he did not recognize some of the former Chief Justices. He thought how embarrassing it would have been for him had a Senator asked him, "So, you're the 17th Chief Justice. Who are the others?" Only for him to respond with "I don't know." So, he spent the first summer after he was appointed reading and learning everything he could about the other Chief Justices.

Further evidence of his intellectual curiosity was that he also said the Chancellorship of the Smithsonian is the best part of being the Chief Justice. He then went onto explain where the finances for the Smithsonian originally came from, and contrasted Andrew Jackson's response to the offer with something along the lines of "We don't need British money" with John Quincy Adams' response with something like, "Well, hang on there, not so fast."

He recounted an anecdote from Chief Justice John Jay—the first Chief Justice—after Washington asked him for legal advice. Chief Justice Jay said that it was not his job to provide advice to a sitting President, for he was in a different branch of the government. While that is a commonplace notion today, it wasn't then.

The Chief Justice also recounted the story of when he was nominated to the D.C. Circuit in 1992, but the Senate never voted on his confirmation. He said it was sad, of course, but looking back he was glad it happened.

> It was a disappointment. You look ahead and plan what your life will be like. I think it was a great honor. It was a great calling to be a federal judge. In retrospect, 100%, it was one of the best things that ever happened to me. That is a young age to take on a life-tenure job. You give up a lot of opportunity for other experiences. I'm pretty sure if I had done that, I wouldn't have ended up where I am now. You do develop something of a track record and it is not always something that appeals to people. And I went on and was able to do private practice but also another government opportunity. It was a disappointment but turned out alright.

"It turned out alright" is a bit of an understatement, Mr. Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court.

Regarding the Court's summer recess, he mentioned that it was important in order to maintain collegiality on the Court. It allows the Justices to decompress after a long ten-months filled with contentious issues and important decisions, and he said it allows them to remain friendly throughout the term.

> Louis Brandeis said he could do the 12 months worth of work on the court in 10 months, but he couldn't do it in 12 months. And I think there was a lot of wisdom in that. And, you know, sometimes people get together in the summer, do this and that whatnot. I am, I think I got the group right, a four seasons fan. And my approach is, see you in September . . . . But so that helps sort of recharge the batteries.

Chief Justice John Roberts at the Baker Institute

I found this letter [uploaded here](https://www.studocu.com/ph/document/university-of-san-agustin/ethics/advice-to-a-young-man-interested-in-going-into-law/37348196), after it was referenced [in a ceremony](https://www.cschs.org/history/california-supreme-court-justices/stanley-mosk/) by Justice Stanley Mosk’s son, honoring the late Justice. I wrote about more quotes from that ceremony here.

> My dear Paul:
>
> No one can be a truly competent lawyer unless he is a cultivated man. If I were you, I would forget about any technical preparation for the law. The best way to prepare for the law is to be a well-read person.
>
> Thus, alone can one acquire the capacity to use the English language on paper and in speech and with the habits of clear thinking that, only a truly liberal education can give. No less important for a lawyer is the cultivation of the imaginative faculties by reading poetry, seeing great paintings, in the original or in easily available reproductions, and listening to great music. Stock your mind with the deposit of much good reading, widen and deepen your feelings by experiencing vicariously as much as possible the wonderful mysteries of the universe, and forget about your future career. With good wishes,
>
> Sincerely yours,
>
> [Signed] Felix Frankfurter
>
> M. Paul Claussen, Jr


Felix Frankfurter’s Letter of Advice to a Young Person Interested in Going into the Law

I read a few opinions by Justice Mosk this week, which had made me curious to learn more 
about who he was, what he did, and how he lived.

I came across [this wonderful recorded meeting](https://www.cschs.org/history/california-supreme-court-justices/stanley-mosk/) of the Justices of the California Supreme Court to honor Justice Mosk after he passed away. His son, his wife, and various co-workers spoke about Mosk’s life, judicial philosophy, and who he was.

I was captivated by it all. Here are some highlights:

I loved this quote that Mosk’s son shared:

> Felix Frankfurter once wrote to a young boy interested in the law that, “No one can be a truly competent lawyer unless he is a cultivated man.” He went on, “Stock your mind with the deposit of much good reading. Widen and deepen your feelings by experiencing vicariously as much as possible the wonderful mysteries of the universe. . . .” Stanley Mosk, throughout his life, did what Mr. Justice Frankfurter recommended.

If I can aspire to anything in my legal career, I hope I can stock my “mind with the deposit of much good reading” and “widen and deepen [my] feelings by experiencing vicariously as much as possible he wonderful mysteries of the universe.” [Read Frankfurter’s full letter here](https://dltnio.pika.page/posts/felix-frankfurters-letter-of-advice-to-a-young-person-interested-in-going-into-the-law).

And this classic from George Bernard Shaw:

> As George Bernard Shaw wrote: “The reasonable man adapts himself to the world. The unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”

Mosk’s eminent, learned mind is evident from this anecdote:

> We [Mosk, Bernie Witkin, and Joseph Cotchett] had met at about 11:30 and the three of us went to lunch. We always laughed because Bernie just used to tell jokes until you couldn’t stop him. We got on the subject of the United States Supreme Court in the 1930’s and the court-packing plan of Franklin Delano Roosevelt; and at this point Stanley Mosk took over and for the next hour recited every single opinion with full citation, almost every page, I’m sure, and the facts about the cases that reversed Roosevelt’s policies in the ‘30s. As he went on and on, I was just in awe. And the most important aspect of it was Bernie sat there without saying a word, which was truly remarkable for Bernie Witkin. Justice Mosk recited every piece of legislation and every case that dealt with it. When it was all over, Bernie Witkin looked over at him and said, “Stanley, do you know the Rule in Shelley’s Case?” I’m pleased to tell you, he said yes and recited it! Thank you very much.

And this, from Mosk’s research attorney, Dennis Peter Maio:

> He gave as much attention to the small issues as to the great, for he believed and he acted on the belief that the law was a practical human creation, a mechanism that enabled all sorts of people with all sorts of values and goals to make communal life a going concern, a successful going concern. He was pragmatic, as others have said. But he was pragmatic out of principle. Many of Justice Mosk’s deeds and words at the court were similarly undramatic. To us on his staff, he was a quiet man, even though he had much to say. He was not at all self-important, even though he played a role that was prominent. He generally asked us for nothing, except whatever assistance we might be able to furnish, as in each case he attempted to get to the right result. Many a time, he got to a right result that was not to his liking — every time when it involved affirmance of a judgment of death, for, as all know, he was personally opposed to capital punishment. He would not change the result. Rather, he would pause, grimace, and say a word or two and then pass on to the next matter.
> 
> Once, years ago, in a case I still remember clearly, I recommended reversal of a judgment of death. He nonetheless rejected my recommendation, because the result, as I soon had to admit, was wrong. He knew what he liked and what he did not. But he believed that his job was to try to do what was right. I cannot say that he ever failed.
> 
> As I close, let me recall a particular memory of Justice Mosk, or rather a particular group of memories. Nine times in the course of the past decade, the moment for execution of a judgment of death would approach. Nine times, he would be found in his chambers, reviewing a last-minute habeas corpus petition if one had been filed, doing other work if one had not. Nine times, as the appointed hour drew near, he would assemble with other members of the court. Nine times, after what had to be done was done, he would leave and make his way home. Never did he say more than a few words. His face, however, always revealed a sad recognition that he would not see this ritual end in his lifetime. More important, his presence always demonstrated a full and open commitment to the law, not only when it guided him where he would go, but also, and perhaps especially, when it took him where he would not.

And, finally, his wife shares a uniquely personal portrait of the late Justice:

> In the early morning I would often hear Stanley jogging or two-stepping to his own tune. When he saw me watching him exercise, he would call out: “Kiddo, I’m hungry!” I took this as a signal to prepare breakfast. He loved food–any kind of food–and was very tolerant of my limited cooking skills: Even when I burned his toast and eggs, he would exclaim, “Delicious! What a meal!”
> 
> Stanley was always careful about his appearance–not because of vanity, but because he respected his position in public life. When he was ready to go to work each day–always well groomed and wearing a nice suit–he would turn around for my inspection, and I would say: “Okay. Okay. Today you’re even more beautiful than I am.” Then his face would break into a radiant smile and he would leave the house with his usual parting remark: “Well, I’m off to make a living for us.”

What kept Justice Mosk going for 37 years? Simple. “He loved the law.”

> What drove Stanley to do what he did so brilliantly, day after day, case after case, for 37 years? A short time before his passing, when we were in Los Angeles for a court session, he came home after a tiring day on the bench and mused how much he loved the law–but told me it would be the last session he would attend.

I’m excited to continue reading cases penned by Mosk, and proud to be living in a State that recognized Mosk’s genius, and put him where he needed to be.

judges