"I may mention here that by an old custom, still kept up at the Middle Temple, a porter goes round the different courts and avenues, half an hour before dinner, blowing a bullock's horn to remind all whom it may concern that dinner-time is at hand.
"The Bar and the students were parcelled off into messes of four men each, every one being treated to the same bill of fare. We had a bottle of wine (invariably port) to each mess, soup, a sirloin of beef, a fruit tart, cheese and bread, with an unlimited supply of small beer, certainly the best of the three classes of that beverage, which are described as strong table, weak table, and lamen-table.
"After dinner, which lasted about an hour, the Benchers marched out as they had marched in, and retired to what was called the parliament chamber, to finish their repast with wine and dessert, while we were left to our own devices.
"In the middle of Grand week there was a grand day, when the bench was graced by the presence of the old dignitaries, and retired and existing judges who had once belonged to us. I have on several occasions seen Lord Eldon and Lord Stowell, his brother, walk up the hall to take their seats at the Bench table, while Lord Wynford, whose limbs were paralyzed, was carried in on a chair. It told us how old association predominated over bodily infirmity.
"There was a custom of which some of us used to avail ourselves on a Friday in term-time. A barrel of oysters was placed on a table in the middle of the hall, half an hour before dinner, and those who chose to run the risk of opening them for themselves, could stimulate their appetites for the future meal, ad libitum. The opportunity arose from a bequest made by some old lady in ancient times, probably for the good of our souls, and perhaps with some little consideration for her own; but we never troubled ourselves about the origin of the refection. I dare say it had some reference to the duty of carnal abstinence on fast days. But, if so, there must have been some little misconception about it, for a single barrel, so far from satisfying our inward cravings, only had the effect of sharpening them.
"Having achieved the right to studentship, the next thing to do was to look out for a pedagogue under whose tuition I might become initiated into the science and subtle mysteries of the law, of which I was then as profoundly ignorant as an Ojibbeway Indian. This was usually accomplished by paying one hundred guineas a year, for as many years as were considered expedient or convenient, to a barrister or special pleader for the privilege of what was called 'having the run of his chambers.'
"I have used the word 'pedagogue,' but in a very different sense from its ordinary one; for it was no part of his duty to attend either to our minds or morals. He was always willing, in his leisure moments, to explain any matter of difficulty we might stumble upon, but if we never troubled him, we might be quite sure he would never trouble us. One saw the cases that came in for his opinion or his drafting, and might study and digest the answers before they went out; but this was all the benefit that one was likely to get, unless, like Oliver Twist, one asked for more; for a pleader or barrister in large practice—and it was useless betaking oneself to a teacher with a small one—had no time to devote to a systematic course of tuition. If a novice was bent on undergoing a three years' pupilage, the best way of disposing of himself was to apportion his time among three different preceptors instead of one, so that he might gain experience in various kinds of practice.
"In Easter Term, 1840, I was called to the bar. As a preparative for investiture, the aspirant who has sufficiently dined, must get himself proposed by one Bencher and seconded by another in the parliament chamber, where the official business of the Inn is conducted, and if his character is unimpeached, the fiat for his case goes forth. But no one could claim to be called as a matter of right. The Benchers might reject the candidate's application, if they pleased, but always subject to an appeal to the body of judges as visitors of the Inn; and their decision was final.
"The actual ceremony of being called was very short and simple. On the appointed day, while the Benchers and Bar were in the hall prepared to sit down to dinner, I happening to be the senior of nineteen infatuated beings, habited for the first time in the full panoply of gown, wig, and bands, and each brimful of hope of speedy distinction, walked up the hall, and stood in a row, before our venerable superiors. We then took a short oath that we would do our duty to the Inn, to the public, and to our clients,—should we ever have any,—and the formal business was at an end.
"We sat down to our repast as usual, and, as
