He must put his shoulder to the wheel without delay; manifestly, his profession of the law, however unlucrative till now, must be the mighty lever that should raise him quickly to the summit of opulence and fame: and he vigorously set to work, as the briefless are forced to do, inditing a new law-book, which should lift him high in honour with those magnates on the bench; being, as he was, a court-counsel, not a chamber one, an eloquent pleader too (if the world would only give him a hearing), he unluckily took for his thesis the questionable '_Doctrine of Defence_;' combating magnanimously on the loftiest moral grounds all manner of received opinions, time-honoured fictions, legitimated quibbles, and other things which (as he was pleased to put it) "render the majesty of the law ridiculous to the ears of common sense, and iniquitous in the sight of Christian judgment." Rash youth! forensic Quixote! better had you plodded on, without this extra industry and skill, in the hopeless idleness and solitude of your Temple garret--better had you burnt your wig and gown outright, with all the airy briefs to come that fluttered round them, than have owned yourself the author of that heretical piece of moral mawkishness--'_The Doctrine of Defence_, by Henry Clements.' He had with difficulty found a publisher--a chilling incident enough in itself, considering an author's feelings for his book-child; and when found, the scarcely satisfactory arrangement was insisted on, of mutual participation in profit and loss: in other parlance, the bookseller pocketing the first, and the author unpocketing the second. Thus it came to pass, that after three months' toil and enormous collation of cases--after extravagant indulgence of the most ardent hopes--glory, good, and gold, consequent instantaneously on this happy publication--after reasonably expecting that judges would quote it in their ermine, and sergeants consult it in their silk--that London would be startled by the event from the humdrum of its ordinary routine--and the wondering world applaud the name of Henry Clements--O, heart-sickening reality! what was the result of his exertions? "So, that puppy Clements has taken upon himself to put us all to school about whom we may defend, and how, I see---- Hang the fellow's impudence!" grunted a fat Old Bailey counsel to his peers, well aware that the luckless author sat nervously within ear-shot. "I know whose junior that modest swain shall never be;" simpered Sergeant Tiffin.