Court All Packed

Not since George Washington had one President appointed seven Supreme Court Justices--until last week. And only Washington, setting up the Court for the first time, had appointed so many from his own political party. But last week's appointments of Attorney General Robert Jackson and Senator James Byrnes, far from rousing charges of partisanship, were hailed as statesmanlike appointments.

Chief reason was the President's appointment of Harlan Stone, 68, Republican, liberal, a Coolidge appointee, as Chief Justice. Last week the U.S. realized how much it liked the idea of a solid man as Chief Justice to follow Charles Evans Hughes. And solid is the word for Chief Justice Stone--200 lb., with heavy, good-natured features and a benign judicial air. On the bench, Frankfurter moves around and makes notes; Douglas looks restless and bored; Murphy stares pensively under his bushy eyebrows; Black smiles enigmatically to himself; but Mr. Justice Stone, leaning forward impassively, his grey hair falling over his forehead, is almost as impressive a figure of justice as were Taft and Hughes before him.

The U.S. knew where Justice Stone stood, and approved what it knew he stood for. New Hampshire-born (Calvin Coolidge used to run legal errands for his father), Harlan Stone had been dean of the Columbia Law School, was back in private practice when Calvin Coolidge made him Attorney General. He had barely begun anti-trust proceedings against Aluminum Co. of America when he was appointed to the Court in 1925. Attacked as a corporation lawyer, he turned out to be a solid liberal who was soon writing dissents with Holmes and Brandeis. He dissented when the AAA was declared un constitutional, supported the New Deal on TVA and the Wagner Act. No New Dealer, he believed the Court must take notice of social and economic change.

Another thing the U.S. liked about the new Chief Justice was that he was not colorful. Only quirk attributed to him: he has a secret door built in the bookcase of the library of his Washington home, ducks through it when he sees unwelcome visitors coming up the street. But he is sociable by nature and seldom uses his secret door. Said he last week of his new job: "It is the kind of recognition any man would appreciate, but the responsibility is so great that it doesn't create any sense of elation."

The U.S. picture of Robert Jackson and Senator Byrnes was not so clear. New Dealers have long insisted that Attorney General Jackson would not go to the Court unless he went as Chief Justice, but last week there was no mistaking Robert Jackson's elation. Chief reservation about him was that (as his intemperate campaign speeches revealed) he lacked the judicial temperament. A Democrat, a mild Wilsonian radical, Robert Jackson was the foremost legal strategist of the New Deal, who had carried out a welter of partisan tasks for the President. But it was agreed that he was mellowing, and it was considered likely that the Court would have as much influence on him as he had on it. Senator Byrnes, an able parliamentarian, a remarkably effective Senate leader, a supporter--but not invariably--of Administration measures, was no judge, had no legal reputation. But he was not primarily concerned with social reform, and there was no question of his independence.

So Franklin Roosevelt filled out the reorganized Court. The Nine Old Men had not, after all, been replaced by Fifteen Young Radicals. Whatever their individual differences, a majority of the Justices--Stone, Roberts, Reed, Frankfurter, Byrnes --were not social theorists, and the new Court was not likely to be ridiculed by the U.S. as the old Court had been ridiculed by New Dealers.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.