But I afterwards remembered—­ay, and can never forget—­the words of the Lord Chief Justice himself, the first to appreciate and applaud, as I was passing near him in leaving the court:  “Bravo!  Bravo, Hawkins!” And then he added, “I have not heard a piece of oratory like that for many a long day!” And he patted me cordially on the back as he looked at me with, I believe, the sincerest appreciation.

Lord Chelmsford, too, who years before had given me my silk gown, was on the Bench on this last day, and I shall never forget the compliment he paid me on my speech.  It was of itself worth all the trouble and anxiety I had undergone.

Beyond all this, and more gratifying even still, my speech was liked by the Bar, from the most eminent to the briefless.

But greatest of all events in that eventful day was one which went deeper to my feelings.  My old father, who had taken so strong a view against my going to the Bar, and who told me so mournfully that after five years I must sink or swim; my old father, who had never once seen me in my wig and gown from that day to this, the almost closing scene in my forensic career, came into court and sat by my side when I made successfully the greatest effort of my life.

CHAPTER XXIX.

A VISIT TO SHEFFIELD—­MRS. HAILSTONE’S DANISH BOARHOUND.

The remembrance of my Sessions days will never vanish from my mind, although at the period of which I am speaking they had long receded into the distant past.  Even Nisi Prius was diminishing in importance, although increasing in its business and fees.

Solicitors no longer condescended to deliver their briefs, but competed for my services.  I say this without the smallest vanity, and only because it was the fact, and a great fact in my life.  I was wanted to win causes by advocacy or compromise; and the innumerable compensation cases which continually came in with so steady and so full a tide were a sufficient proof that, at all events, the solicitors and others thought my services worth having.  So did my clerk!

Those were the days of the golden harvest, the very gleanings of which were valuable to those who came after.

Lloyd must have made L20,000 a year with the greatest ease.  What my income was is of no consequence to any one; suffice it to say that no expectations of mine ever came up to its amount, and even now when I look back it seems absolutely fabulous.  I will say no more, notwithstanding the curiosity it has excited amongst the members of the profession.

Of course it was a step for me from the humble “one three six;” but I have had a more lively satisfaction from that little sum than from many a larger fee.

In the midst of all this rush of London business I still found time to run down to country places in cases of election petitions or compensation.

One day I found myself on my way to Sheffield to support the member against an attempt to deprive him of his seat in Parliament.  I went with the Hon. Sir Edward Chandos Leigh, my distinguished junior on that memorable occasion.