ness than the eos,
or nightingale, a request which, if the poet himself may be believed,
rather a doubtful point, was seldom, very seldom, denied. And by what
strange chance had Ab Gwilym and Blackstone, two personages so
exceedingly different, been thus brought together? From what the reader
already knows of me, he may be quite prepared to find me reading the
former; but what could have induced me to take up Blackstone, or rather
the law?

I have ever loved to be as explicit as possible; on which account,
perhaps, I never attained to any proficiency in the law, the essence of
which is said to be ambiguity; most questions may be answered in a few
words, and this among the rest, though connected with the law. My
parents deemed it necessary that I should adopt some profession, they
named the law; the law was as agreeable to me as any other profession
within my reach, so I adopted the law, and the consequence was, that
Blackstone, probably for the first time, found himself in company with Ab
Gwilym. By adopting the law I had not ceased to be Lavengro.

So I sat behind a desk many hours in the day, ostensibly engaged in
transcribing documents of various kinds; the scene of my labours was a
strange old house, occupying one side of a long and narrow court, into
which, however, the greater number of the windows looked not, but into an
extensive garden, filled with fruit trees, in the rear of a large,
handsome house, belonging to a highly respectable gentleman, who,
moyennant un douceur considerable, had consented to instruct my father's
youngest son in the mysteries of glorious English law. Ah! would that I
could describe the good gentleman in the manner which he deserves; he has
long since sunk to his place in a respectable vault, in the aisle of a
very respectable church, whilst an exceedingly respectable marble slab
against the neighbouring wall tells on a Sunday some eye wandering from
its prayer-book that his dust lies below; to secure such respectabilities
in death, he passed a most respectable life. Let no one sneer, he
accomplished much; his life was peaceful, so was his death. Are these
trifles? I wish I could describe him, for I loved the man, and with
reason, for he was ever kind to me, to whom kindness has not always been
shown; and he was, moreover, a choice specimen of a class which no longer
exists--a gentleman lawyer of the old school. I would fain describe him,
but figures with which he has nought to