“The other faculty, to which, in combination with his subtlety of understanding, the excellence of his advocacy may be attributed, is one more rarely possessed—­ and scarcely ever in such association—­ the entire singleness of a mind equally present in every part of a cause.  If the promotion of the interest of the client were an advocate’s highest duty, it would be another name for the exactest virtue; and inasmuch as that interest is not, like the objects of zeal, fixed in character, but liable to frequent change, the faculty of directing the whole power of the understanding to each shifting aspect of the cause in its minutest shadowings without the guidance of an inflexible law, is far more wonderful, if far less noble, than a singleness of devotion to right.  It has an integrity of its own, which bears some affinity to that honesty which Baillie Nichol Jarvie attributes to his Highland kinsman.  Such honesty—­ that is, the entire devotion of all the faculties to the object for which it was retained, without the lapse of a moment’s vanity or indolence, with unlimited vision and unceasing activity—­ was Follett’s beyond all other advocates of our time.  To the presentment of truth, or sophism, as the cause might require, he gave his entire mind with as perfect oblivion of self as the most heroic sufferer for principle.  The faculty which in Gladstone, the statesman, applied to realities and inspired only by the desire to discover the truth and to clothe it in language, assumes, in the minds of superficial observers, the air of casuistry from the nicety of its distinctions and the earnest desire of the speaker to present truth in its finest shades—­ in Follett, the advocate, applied indiscriminately to the development of the specious shows of things as of their essences, wore all the semblance of sincerity; and, in one sense, deserved it.  No fears, no doubts, no scruples shook him.  Of the license which advocacy draws from sympathy with the feelings of those it represents, he made full use, with unhesitating power; for his reason, of ‘large discourse,’ was as pliable as the affections of the most sensitive nature.  Nor was he diverted from his aim by any figure or fancy:  if he neither exalted his subject by imagination, nor illustrated it by wit, nor softened its details by pathos, he never made it the subject of vain attempts at the exhibition of either.  He went into the arena, stripped of all encumbrance, to win, and contended studious only and always of victory.  His presence of mind was not merely the absence of external distraction, nor the capacity of calling up all energies on an emergency, but the continued application of them equally to the duty of each moment.  There are few speakers, even of fervid sincerity and zeal, whose thoughts do not frequently run before or beside the moment’s purpose; whose wits do not sometimes wander on to some other part of the case than that they are instantly discussing; who do not anticipate some future effect, or dally