It is not without considerable trepidation that an infant limb of the law shies his castor into the ring, puts up his shingle announcing that A, B, or C is an "Attorney and Counsellor at Law." His cerebral column stiffens as, from day to day, he meets members of the bar, who congratulate him upon his advent, and feels his importance as he waits from day to day for the visit of his first client, but collapses when he arrives and with ghostly dread salutes him and prepares to listen with a disturbed sense of an awful responsibility he is about to undertake. For, side by side with his client's statements there seem to appear in stately majesty all the adjuncts of the law: First, the inquisitive glance of the judge, like a judicial searchlight, scans him as he rises to defend Mr. Only Borrow, charged with larceny. Will he be able to think on his feet at the bar as he did in his chair in his office? Will he succeed or fail in stating his case, with eye and ear of every veteran of the bar intent on his first utterance? How about the jury, that unknown quantity of capricious predilections? Will they give him attention, or will their eyes find a more congenial resting place? Unbidden, the panorama insists on prominence. He attempts the most nonchalant air, tells Mr. B. to proceed and state his case. This was not the first time that he had been requested to perform this incipient step of the law's demand, and he does it with such astuteness and flippancy, and how he had been wronged and persecuted by the plaintiff, that tears, unbidden, are ready to glisten in your eyes. Injured innocence and your sworn duty to your profession inspire courage and induce you to take his case. Later on the tyro will have learned that it was highly probable that Mr. B. would not have called on him but for the fact that he was not only out of cash, but out of credit with able and experienced practitioners.