“————— The rumps Of little school-boy Jackies.”
“The study of the law was rather compulsory than voluntary, for during my residence in the College I was under the necessity of devoting some part of my time to, though I felt no great partiality for it; and you know law is law; and as in such, and so forth, and hereby and aforesaid, provided always nevertheless notwithstanding, law is like a country dance, people are led up and down in it till they are tired: law is like a book of surgery, there are a great many terrible cases in it. It is also like physic, they that take least of it are best off: law is like a homely gentlewoman, very well to follow: law is like a scolding wife, very bad when it follows us: law is like a new fashion, people are bewitched to get into it; it is also like bad weather, most people are glad when they get out of it.”
“I believe that sincerely,” cried the Hon. Tom Dashall; “for I think there are instances enough in which law has nothing at all to do with justice."{1}
1 This remark of the Hon. Tom Dashall is admirably illustrated by the following statement:— Twelve People in one Bail Bond fob Ten Pounds.—There are very few instances of delinquency which we have stated, that will stagger the belief of the fair practitioner, because they know such transactions are possible; their only surprise is the impunity with which they are committed, mixed with some regret that the profession is so contaminated. The species of peculation we have now to submit to our readers is of singular nature; for we know not whether folly, impudence, or infamy, has the greater share in the transaction; we will therefore leave our readers to judge:—as to the statement of the fact, it is impossible we can err, as we were concerned for the defendants, and the case, singular as it is, was literally and accurately thus:—One of those unfortunate females who contribute to the existence of a miscreant crew of bawds, milliners, hair-dressers, tally-women, and many other reptiles of the same class, was arrested for ten pounds, at the house of the celebrated, or, more properly speaking, the notorious, Mrs. Johnson, of Jermyn-street:—the attorney accompanied the officer; and it happened that a young gentleman connected with a banking-house of great respectability was present, whom the attorney directed to take in a bail bond, with the lady-abbess herself; but as they were not sufficiently responsible, ten more of the cyprian tribe, all nuns of the same convent, were likewise required to execute this bond; of course they complied. The attorney, after having made the parties acquainted with the great favour he had shewn them, and the vast responsibility he had taken upon himself, required no more than two guineas for the officer and himself; telling them he would give them information when any thing further was to be done; instead of which he took an assignment, sued out process, prepared declarations, and served the parties. The gentleman, rather alarmed at the idea of the circumstance being known, desired us to pay the debt and costs: for that purpose we applied to the attorney, and to our astonishment we were informed that the costs amounted to Thirty Pounds! for that there were twelve defendants. The reader cannot suppose that any thing further could pass upon such a preposterous subject, than giving notice of an application to the court, to set aside the proceedings. On our return home we found eleven of the defendants, consisting of the old brood hen and her chickens, each with a copy of the process in her hand. The business now most certainly put on the appearance of some costs. We again applied to the attorney, and, by way of cutting it short, offered him five pounds; but he, like many others who rely on the integrity and propriety of their practice, disdained a compromise, or abridgement of his lawful fees, and he was hardy enough to suffer the application. It is almost needless to say, the proceedings were set aside. We have forebome to mention the name of the attorney, on account of the misery in which this dreadful transaction has involved him, a misery which amply atones for his offences, and deprives him of the power of ever offending again as an attorney. Far be it from us then to sink him deeper in the gulph of wretchedness: we kick not the dead lion; it is athletic triumphant villany against which we wage war.
By this time they were arrived in Piccadilly, where they sat down to a cheerful refreshment, and proceeded to make arrangements for Merry well's departure: previous to this, however, Dashall and his Cousin had an engagement to keep with their Hibernian friends, of which particulars will appear in the next Chapter.
CHAPTER XX
All hail to the day of the tutelar Saint, Old George, not the King, but the Prince of brave fellows, And Champion of England, by Providence sent To slay a fierce Dragon as histories tell us! And hail to the King of the first Isle on Earth, His fame with St. George and the Dragon who blending, Has chosen to celebrate this as his birth, The day of all others, good fortune portending. Away then with Care, let us haste to the Park, Where Buckingham-house will exhibit a levy Resplendent in rank, youth and beauty;—and hark! Hoarse cannon announce both the birth-day and Levee. Reverberate then, in each sea-port the roar! And wave England's Standard on high, from each steeple, And skip from the oiling, each ship, to the shore, And joyfully dance on dry land with the people!{1} 1 That we may not be accused of plagiarism, we acknowledge ourselves indebted for the hyperbole contained in the last two lines of these introductory stanzas, to an original recommendation for a proper display of rapture, as contained in the following couplet by one Peter Ker, wherein he very humanely invites all the vessels belonging to Great Britain to strand themselves out of joy for the accession of James I. “Let subjects sing, bells ring, and cannons roar, And every ship come dancing to the shore.” The morning of St. George's Day was ushered in, as the appointed anniversary of his Majesty's birth, by all the church-bells of the metropolis, the waving of the royal standard from the steeples, the display of the colours of all nations by the vessels in the Thames, and Cumberland mentions in his Memoirs, that when his father the Bishop revisited his estate in Ireland, an affectionate rustic hit upon an ingenious mode of shewing his happiness, by leaping from a tree, and breaking his leg! We do not find that any of his Majesty's loving subjects in the Park on St. George's Day followed the example of the Irish rustic!
