resources; and, without other motive than that of bringing a young,
laboring, and ardent soul out of the meshes of a new and bewildering
thought or situation, would have addressed himself to the task with
that degree of solicitous earnestness which disarms prejudice and
invites and wins confidence. But, with his first impression, that
the whole business was a "bore," our benevolent young teacher
determined on getting through with it with the least possible effort.
He saw that the youth carried a book under his arm, the externals
of which, so uniform and discouraging as they appear in every legal
library, could not well be questioned as belonging to some such
venerable receptacle of barbarous phrase and rigid authority. The
circumstance afforded him an occasion to begin a conversation,
the opening of which, with all his coolness, was a subject of some
awkwardness.

"You seem a student like myself, Mr. Hinkley, and, if I mistake not
from the appearance of your book, you are taking up the profession
which I am about to lay down."

"This is a law-book, sir," said Hinkley, in accents which were
rather meek than cold; "it is Blackstone."

"Ah! I thought as much. Have you been long a student?"

"I may scarcely consider myself one yet. I have read, sir, rather
than studied."

"A good distinction, not often made. But, do you incline to law
seriously?"