"'I contend (He contends!) that it is the duty of the State to provide due recognition of merit in the ranks of a Profession which has been set apart (Dedicated, as it were, like a—like a—sort of a scapegoat—ahem! no, not that, exactly, either, but—a—you know, Boy, you know!), and regulated (Just a leetle too much, perhaps) by it, from which so much is expected, and to which so much is confided.'
"Splendid! My sentiments to a touch! Sir, that Blue Bag is a Temple of Sacred Secrets, and should be a shrine of Open Honour. (Must make a note of that for my next speech at the Forum!) 'Sir SOLOMON PELL' would not sound badly, eh, Boy?"
"Oh, please Sir, yussir—I mean, no, Sir, fur from it, Sir—fur from it!"
"And yet the Bar gets all the honours, and most of the emoluments, whilst the Blue Bag, too often, is sent empty away. Is it just? Is it judicious? What says once again the Plymouth oracle?
"'I ask whether it is wise or prudent on the part of the State to leave unnoticed and disregarded the higher aspirations and ambitions of a large and useful and powerful class of the community?'
"No, Sir—a thousand times no! Let our 'higher aspirations' be considered. Some of us have souls above six-and-eightpence, and yearnings beyond bills of costs. Let 'em be gratified, Boy!"
"Oh, please Sir, yussir: let 'em! Immediately—if not sooner, Sir!"
"By the State—with a capital S! If a soldier may carry a Field Marshal's bâton in his knapsack, why, why should not a Solicitor carry a Baronetcy in his Blue Bag?"
"And Ekker answers, 'Why?' Sir."
"I beg your pardon, Boy, it is the Times, not the Echo, which so answers. The Times says:—