est conviction of a man's
bravest sagacity, perishes in lawyers' souls ere half their powers are
fledged: they become the registers of other men, they think no more than
wax.'"

Here Mr. Randel blew out one of the candles. The illustration was
cogent. Mr. Clayton lighted it again with another candle.

"There's method in his madness, Custis," he said, with a wink. "Let me
introduce my great friend to you, Randel?"

"Stop there," the engineer repeated, sternly, "till I have read my
sentence. 'Seldom it is that a lawyer of useful parts, in a community as
detached and pastoral as the State of Delaware, has a cause appealing to
his manliness, his genius, and his avarice, like this of John Randel,
Junior, civil engineer! No equal public work will probably be built in
the State of Delaware during the lifetime of the said Clayton. No fee he
can earn in his native state will ever have been the reward of a lawyer
there like his who shall be successful with the suit of John Randel,
Junior, against the Canal Company. No principle is better worth a great
lawyer's vindication than that these corporations, in their infancy,
shall not trample upon the private rights of a gentleman, and treat his
scholarship and services like the labor of a slave.'"

"Well said and highly thought," interposed Judge Custis.

"'The said Clayton,'" continued John Randel, still reading, "'refuses
the aid of his abilities to a stranger and a gentleman inhospitably
treated in the State of Delaware.'"

"No, no," cried Clayton; "that is a charge against me I will not
permit."

"'The said Clayton,'" read Randel, inflexibly, "'with the possibilities
of light, riches, and honor for himself, and justice for a fellow-man,
chooses cowardice, mediocrity--and darkness. He extinguishes my hopes
and his.'"

With this, Mr. Randel, by a singular fanning of his hands and waft of
his breath, put out all the candles at once and left the whole room in
darkness.

Judge Custis was the first to speak after this extraordinary
illustration:

"Clayton, I believe he has a good case."

"That is not the point now," Mr. Clayton said, with rising spirit and
emphasis. "The point now is, 'Am I guilty of inhospitality?' Goy! that
touches me as a Delawarean, and is a high offence in this little state.
It is true that this suitor is a stranger. He comes to me with an
introduction from my brilliant young friend, Mr. Seward, of New York,
who vouches for him. But the corporation h