of its own
force, it embraces everything, investigates everything, construes
itself, and enforces itself, as the sole power in the premises. Its
rules in the text-books read plain enough, and are not difficult
of apprehension. The uncertainty of the law arises in the doubt and
uncertainty of the facts; and hence the doubt about which, of many
rules, ought to govern. A man of genius, as you describe him, ought
to become a good lawyer; he would excel in the investigation and
presentation of facts; but none but a lawyer saturated with the spirit
of the law until he comes to have a legal instinct, can with accuracy
apply it."

This was clear and strong to Barton, and profitable to him.

"Now Barton," said Henry, turning to Ranney, as if Bart were absent,
"went through with Blackstone in a month, and probably would go
through it every month in the year, and then he might be profitably
put to read Blackstone. If I were to shut him up with the
'Institutes,' in four days there might be nothing of poor Coke left
but covers and cords."

"And what would become of Bart?" asked Ranney.

"Go mad--but not from much learning," answered the youth for himself;
"or you would find him like a dried geranium-leaf hid in the leaves of
the year-books,--

'Where thy mates of the garden lie scentless and dead.'"

There was a touch of sarcasm in his mocking voice; and flashing out
with his old sparkle, "Be patient with me, boys, the future works
miracles. There

Are mountains ungrown,
And fountains unflown,
And flowers unblown,
And seed never strown,
And meadows unmown,
And maids all alone,
And lots of things to you unknown,
And every mother's son of us must
Always blow his own--nose, you know."

And while the young men were a little astonished at the run of his
lines, the practical and unexpected climax threw them into another
laugh.

Soon Henry took a candle, and the two young men retired. They paused a
moment in the little parlor.

"Was there ever such a singular and brilliant compound?" said Ranney.
"What a power of expression he has! and I see that he generally knows
where he is going to hit. If you can hold him till he masters the law,
he will be a power before juries."

"I think so too," said Henry; "but he must be a good lawyer before he
can be a good advocate,--though that isn't the popular idea."

"Let him work," said Ranney. "He will shed his flightier notions as a
young bird moults its down."