did not believe; and very frequently when I was at his house--for
I visited the family, and sometimes, though unfrequently, dined
with them on a sabbath--he jeered me on my progress--the "wonderful
progress," as he was pleased to term it--which he felt sure I was
making with my Coke and Blackstone, while baling blankets, or
bundling up plains and kerseys. This I bore patiently, sustained
as I was by the proud, indomitable spirit within me, which assured
me of the ultimate triumph which I felt positive would ensue.
I enjoyed his surprise--a surprise that looked something like
consternation--when the very day of my admission to the bar, and
after that event, I encountered him in the street, and in answer
to his usual sarcastic inquiry:--

"Well, Edward, how does the law come on? How is Sir William
Blackstone, Sir Edward Coke, and the rest of the white heads?"

I simply put the parchment into his hands which declared my formal
introduction to those venerable gentry.

"Why, you don't mean? Is it possible? So you really are admitted--a
lawyer, eh?"

"You see, sir--and that, too, without any Greek."

"Well, and what good is it to do you? To have a profession, Edward,
is one thing; to get business, another!"

"Yes, sir--but I take it, the profession must be had first. One
step is gained. That much is sure. The other, I trust, will follow
in due season."