and startling incidents,--would present such a panorama of human affairs
as would outfly our fancy, and modify our unbelief in that much-abused
doctrine of the depravity of our nature.

To illustrate, let me introduce to you "one of my clients," whom I will
call Mr. Sidney, and with whom, perhaps, you may hereafter become better
acquainted. His counterpart in personal appearance you may find in the
thoroughfare at, any hour of the day. There is nothing about him to
attract attention. He is nearly forty-five years of age, and weighs,
perhaps, two hundred pounds. His face is florid and his hair sandy. His
eyes are small, piercing, and gray. His motions are slow, and none are
made without a purpose. Intellectually he is above the average, and his
perceptive faculties are well developed. The wrinkles in his lips are at
right angles with his mouth, and a close observer might detect in his
countenance self-reliance and tenacity of will and purpose. But with
ordinary faculties much may be accomplished: in this sketch, let us see
how much in two particulars.

His first entrance into my office was in the spring of 1853. He
handed me a package of papers, saying, if I would name an hour for a
professional consultation, he would be punctual. The time was agreed
upon and he withdrew. On examination of his papers, I found that his
letters of introduction were from several United States Senators, Judges
of Supreme Courts, Cabinet Officers, and Governors, and one was from a
Presidential candidate in the last election. Those directed specially
to me were from a Senator and a Member of Congress, both of whom were
lawyers and my personal friends, men in whose judgment I placed great
confidence. They all spoke in the highest terms of Mr. Sidney's
integrity, ability, and energy, and concluded by saying I might
implicitly rely upon his judgment and be governed by his counsels.