Whether the Princess of Wales has her own parking space for the royal Audi Cabriolet somewhere in the bowels of Mishcon de Reya's London offices in Southampton Row is not something this journal can relate.

Her solicitor, Anthony Julius, in the best tradition of professional discretion, refuses to discuss any details about his most renowned client.Even the comprehensive press-cuttings book in the firm's reception area - which includes articles about Mishcons in publications as varied as the Face and Accountancy Age - omits any reference to the universal coverage of the gym-photographs-breach-of-confidence case settled out of court a fortnight ago.But Mr Julius is keen to talk about himself.

And why not? He is one of the genuine young stars in the solicitors' profession.

After getting a first in English at Cambridge, Mr Julius did articles at what was then Victo r Mishcon & Co in 1979.

He qualified two years later and was made a partner in only another two years - just in time for his 30th birthday.

In another two years he was an equity partner and, by 1986, he had set up the firm's management board.Mr Julius is still a year and a half on the right side of 40.

And he readily admits that by the time he reaches half a century, he will have expected the new young Turks at the firm to have politely but firmly told him to make way for someone else as head of the litigation department and the management board.However, this stellar career might never have been.

English was always Mr Julius' first love and he fully intended to go down the academic research path except, at the end of the 1970s, 'the job prospects looked so miserable'.So he decided to become a lawyer instead because 'I thought it would be fun and I had always enjoyed an argument.

I thought a legal career would give me plenty of opportunities to be paid to argue.'But a year of the part I and another six months of the part II solicitor qualifying course nearly stopped dead any of Mr Julius' legal ambitions.

'It was dire,' he reflects.

'The first day I got to the College of Law at Bream's Buildings [in London], I had just come down from Cambridge and I was still full of what I had read and been taught to reflect on.

I then sat down with a bunch of 18 year olds who were actually throwing paper darts at each other.'Mr Julius also pulls no punches in his analysis of the teaching methods employed in that era from the not too distant past.

'We were taught as though English common law was the equivalent of the Napoleonic code and consisted of a series of discrete propositions which were internally coherent.'It was only when I had started reading the cases - something we were positively discouraged from doing - that I realised that what was taught as an intellectual grid was in fact a tremendously rich compost.

It was a double intellectual shock.

The first was moving from studying English at Cambridge to studying the law at the college.

And the second was when I realised what the law was actually like as opposed to the way it was being taught.'On qualification, Mr Julius found that litigation was his game ('I'm just a hack really - I'll do the work that comes in with few exceptions.') He began with general commercial work until Jeffrey Archer briefed Mishcons in his libel action against several Fleet Street tabloids.

On the back of that came Robert Maxwell and a raft of libel work from Mirror Group Newspapers.Gradually, Mr Julius has become one of the country's leading libel experts.

And he is now a strong supporter of libel law reform.

He suggests a system of tribunals replacing existing juries.

They should be comprised mostly of laypeople but chaired by a lawyer.

Damages should be capped, he maintains, but as a trade-off there should be an established right to printed corrections.Somehow, in between working for MGN and the man who was one of the most prolific issuers of writs the modern age has known, Mr Julius managed to squeeze in a PhD on anti-semitism in the works of TS Eliot.'As the Americans say, I thought I had "plateau-ed out".

There is an almost narcotic effect from the rapid ascent from the age of 15 and the first public examinations, through to A-levels, university entrance exams and finals, and then qualifying as a professional and finally reaching partnership.

Suddenly you realise you are no longer climbing and you get a depressing vista of no farther peaks but of plains.'The part-time doctorate took Mr Jul ius five years to complete (the book of the thesis will be published this July by Cambridge University Press).

But he acknowledges the project was an honest labour of love.

'It was an obsession, a recreation and a pleasure.

And it was much easier for me than a 21 year old.

I had the resources - I could buy whatever books I needed, I had a secretary and a word-processor.

And I wasn't doing it because I needed a job, so that pressure was off.

It was a cruise, not a slog.'Now that the thesis mountain has been conquered, Mr Julius must again satisfy himself with handling high-profile clients and a heavy caseload.

The only aspect of the recent Princess Diana settlement he is willing to discuss is the experience of having the world's media concentrated on the client and firm for several days.Years of relations with tabloid newspapers have taught Mr Julius useful lessons: 'The idea that the newspapers represent a broadcasting system which merely amplifies the message that one gives to them is plainly wrong.

Lawyers are as na - ve as the next person when it comes to the press, and they should learn that newspapers have their own priorities and agendas.

Indeed, why should they [journalists] simply take what one says as representing the whole truth?'Perhaps more important is Mr Julius' second tip: 'You win cases in court by the strength of your arguments and not by your ability to play the media.'Mr Julius also aims to keep the firm's moral compass in kilter.

'I have always been interested in the question of how one could be a lawyer with a social conscience,' he says, pointing out that Mishcons has a long tradition of doing pro bono work.

Jamaica death row cases, UK-based charities and the Anglo-Jewish representative body, the Board of Deputies, have all benefited from the firm's expertise.Indeed, Mr Julius reckons the firm is unique in devoting a full page of its trainee recruitment brochure to the importance of pro bono.

'We encourage our people to think about their obligations and the kind of assistance they can offer to people who otherwise wouldn't be able to afford to come to a central London law firm.'Those who do not zip about in Audi Cabriolets, for example.