not accustomed to constant interruption and interrogation, which only tend to confuse him; and some capacities of singular grasp and profundity have also a certain slowness and cumbersomeness in their movements, which are rendered apparent when they are suddenly required to act with rapidity.

Precisely in proportion to his intelligence and conscientiousness, he is inclined to advocate the theory which he conceives to contain the most truth, rather than the one that is least open to objection or cavil; and he is apt to feel fluttered and amazed to hear what he stated in good faith, as the result of earnest thought and long experience, attacked by the opposing counsel (who herein, nevertheless, only performs his duty towards his client,) as being perfectly novel or entirely exploded; as simple empiricism or pure theory; as entailing licence, or outraging the liberty of the subject; as differing from all medical authorities, or else as being offensive to the views of every man of common sense. He

torments himself with the idea that if he had

been allowed to explain this, or to add to thatto say in what sense, to what extent, in what circumstances, under what combinations, his opinion or admission was supposed to applythat he would then have been properly understood and his statement have had the desired effect.

If in this frame of mind he is recalled for re-examination, the chances are, that he damages his evidence materially, or perhaps contradicts it in toto, by his over anxiety to guard his former statements from being misinterpreted. In his eagerness to set himself right with the jury, he forgets which is the friendly counsel and which the adverse, and mistakes friends for foes. Perhaps he is considerably misled by the fact that the adverse counsel, who is quietly getting out of him all that is necessary for his case, wears a smiling and kindly countenance; while his own advocate, baffled and annoyed by the failure of an important witness, betrays it by a perceptible change of expression-unless, indeed, he is a very practised hand.

At last the unfortunate witness is permitted to retire, which he does, half out of his wits with vexation, and sensible that he has made a mistake, but unable to rectify it. He remembers, with unutterable harass, that he has heard publicly proclaimed in the strongest manner all the reasons why he should be looked on as an interested, an ignorant, or a self-contradicted witness, and his testimony be received with reserve or incredulity.*

* Since the above was written, I chanced on a rather pleasant and àpropos remark in the pages of a very charming moralist of the present day. He makes one of his characters say, "Medical men are certainly most intelligent persons. They dislike us lawyers, I suspect, because we often succeed in bothering them thoroughly when we get them into a witness-box; but I do not return the dislike."-Friends in Council. 2nd Series.

CHAPTER X.

DR. BRANDLING TAKES COUNSEL'S OPINION.

SHORTLY after this I called one evening on Dr. Brandling, with the intention of informing him of my interview with Mr. Tremlett, and the opinion I had conceived respecting him, and also to express my willingness to give evidence in support of it.

I found him seated in an easy chair on one side of the fire, with an expression of extreme mental disquiet legibly depicted on his features: opposite to the fire was a young gentleman whose attitude proclaimed him perfectly at ease with himself and the world. His chair was tilted back with great dexterity, to permit his feet to repose on the chimney-piece; his hands were in his trowsers-pocket; and between his teeth he held an enormous cigar, from which

ascended clouds of smoke. He took it out of his mouth for an instant, the better to gaze at me, I suppose.

Dr. Brandling rose and shook hands with me; but his hand was clammy and cold as he returned my grasp.

"I-I was following your advice, you see," he stammered out; "and this young gentleman is good enough to inform me of my probable line of duty, doctor-Mr. O'Ferrall, but perhaps we had better stop, Mr. O'Ferrall,” he added, rather imploringly.

"Not on my account by any means,” I said. “I shall, perhaps, also profit by your friend's counsel."

Mr. O'Ferrall gave me his hand with a cordiality that was difficult to resist; and though he preserved a certain gravity, a pair of sharp black eyes were dancing in his head with amuse

ment.

"Sit down in that chair, doctor," he said, with the utmost affability, in a rich mellow voice, with a strong touch of Irish accent. I did as desired. "Have a cigar? No; you don't