executing such schemes had
disappeared) to write upon the theory of evidence; but he points out
that the same principles which underlie the English laws of evidence are
also applicable to innumerable questions belonging to religious,
philosophical, and scientific inquiries. Now the position of a judge or
an eminent lawyer appeared to him from the first to be desirable for
other reasons indeed, but also for the reason that it would enable him
to gain experience and to speak with authority. At moments he had
thoughts of abandoning law for literature; although the thoughts
disappeared as soon as his professional prospects became brighter. His
ideal was always such a position as would enable him to make an
impression upon the opinions of his countrymen in that region where
legal and ethical speculation are both at home.

II. FIRST YEARS AT THE BAR

I will begin by some general remarks upon his legal career, which will
thus be understood as underlying his literary career. Fitzjames was
called to the bar of the Inner Temple on January 26, 1854. He had his
first brief soon afterwards at the Central Criminal Court, where
twenty-five years later he also made his first appearance as a judge. In
the same year he joined the Midland Circuit. He had no legal connections
upon that or any other circuit. His choice was determined by the advice
of Kenneth Macaulay, then leader of the Midland Circuit. He afterwards
referred to this as one of the few cases in which good advice had really
been of some use. In a letter written in July 1855 he observes that the
Midland is the nearest approach to the old circuits as they were before
the days of railways. It was so far from London that the barristers had
to go their rounds regularly between the different towns instead of
coming down for the day. He describes the party who were thus brought
together twice a year, gossiping and arguing all day, with plenty of
squabbling and of 'rough joking and noisy high spirits' among the idler,
that is, much the larger part. He admits that the routine is rather
wearisome: the same judgments and speeches seem to repeat themselves
'like dreams in a fever,' and 'droves of wretched over-driven heavy
people come up from the prison into a kind of churchwardens' pew,' when
the same story is repeated over and over again. And yet he is
profoundly interested. Matters turn up which 'seem to me infinitely more
interesting than the most interesting play or novel,' and