A Blackstone Christmas Eve. which part of my commentaries do you pre fer?" "I answer that, Sir William, by another question : What is the pre-eminent leaf upon a gorgeous old oak in springtime? But if I can differentiate your pages at all, I give selection to your incomparable history clos ing the fourth part." "Yes; I flatter myself that no one else has given to the world a more comprehensive and concise survey of English legal history down to my time. Your modern historians deal too much with detail and too much dis dain philosophy, and in designating effect deal too little with cause." "Do you dislike our American simplicity of legal toilettes and absence of judicial pomp and circumstance, such as you were accus tomed to whenjudge of the Common Pleas?" "Ah, your query excludes reference to the differing conditions of the English and your people. The simplicity of the Wesleyan church would never suit Italy, for in stance, in religious matters, nor would your simplicity and variety in the dress of lawyers and judges, or the off-handed ness of jurors and witnesses, chime with the English fond ness for rank and ceremony. London must be remitted to its wigs andstuffor silk gowns; while New York or Boston or Chicago can be left to allow a judge to hold court in a cut-away coat and lavender-hued trousers, or a lawyer to argue before a jury in a capi tal case when wearing a red cravat." A gentle shiver passed over Michael, for he remembered that he was wearing a red tie himself, and had been that afternoon chaffed about it by Hugh Fowler, one of the law-students. He put his hand up to his neck to loosen it, for he felt somewhat chok ingly, when he also felt a hand on his shoul der. He started, for had Sir William as a spirit a power of tangibility? and he ex claimed, "What is it, Sir William?" as a merry peal of laughter sounded in his already startled ears. The scrivener looked around and saw not
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Sir William Blackstone, but the managing clerk, and a second glance showed him the picture on the wall intact; while Billings was scarlet in the face with the effects of his mirth. "Why do you babble about a Sir William? Michael, my boy, you've had a nightmare. Here it is nine o'clock, and you fast asleep in your chair, gaslight full on, and Trinity Church bells ringing like mad. What is the matter? And have you forgotten the will?" The scrivener rose from his chair halfdazed, but pointed to the engrossed copy exultingly. "Mr. Billings, the egg-nog was too much for me. I must have fallen asleep after finish ing my work, and slept most of the night through. But no nightmare, and a most delightful dream." Kissing his hand to the Blackstone picture, — Billings saying to himself, " The boy's spiritualism and Blackstone worship has made him madder than ever," — Michael folded his engrossed copy of the will, and the two departed to the execution of the last will and testament of Reuben Moneypenny. Dur ing the Christmas day he drank another glass of egg-nog to Blackstone and his supposed dream. And when reaching home and find ing his old mother in tears at his night's ab sence, but soothed by the arrival of the well earned muff as her Christmas gift, he con fided to her his interview with Blackstone. She turned aside with an exclamation, " And of course it was only a dream." But ever afterward, with a new picture of Blackstone in his Chamber, he contended that the old commentator had indeed honored him with a valid spiritual manifestation, and Michael SanTord is one of the best recognized disci ples of Spiritualism to be found anywhere in the city where he is now an approved practitioner, and remarked by his brethren and by the Bench to possess unerring intu itions of legal principles at every professional occasion. But none of them know the inci dents of that Blackstone Christmas Eve.
