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regular prentice, but had only engaged for a voyage to He was killed in an engagement which the Thunderer see how I'd like it.”

had in the West Ingies, with a Mexican frigate, and “ Here was an end of all my hopes of home for a bloody affair it was; tho' our ould jack flew highest many a long day, and many a long year passed over that day after all. Our lieutenant fell at my side, and before I saw the Gantocks or the Castlehill again. I carried him down to the surgeon, but he could do The old man at home, I never saw more. Year after nothing for him, except comforting him a little, poor year we were knocked about the world in the old

soul. I had to leave him at the time, for I had my Thunderer, and many's the hard gale and bloody sight duty to attend to, but, when the business was done, I Neil Grey weathered. We were in the East and went down again to see how he was. He was still West Ingies, Merikay, and other outlandish parts; no alive for he knew me, and called me faintly to him. rest for the Thunderer ; but what vexed me worse I hope your honour will soon get the better of this than all was, that I got no tidings from home, altho'

turn,' said I.

• Never in this world Neil,' said he; I wrote sometimes. For the life of me, I could not • life is fast going, and I'm glad you've come down to learn whether the old man was dead or alive. I see me before I died.' I couldn't speak, let the conwrote from England when the Thunderer was in port sequence be what it might, but I knelt down at his twice, but all to no purpose; because, before an answer side, and I prayed to myself as well as I could, that came back, we had sailed to some distant country, and God would be kind to the poor gentleman, who had if a letter was sent, why it never came to hand. How- always felt so much for the distresses of a brother seasomdever, at the long run, when our ship was knock

Neil,' said he again, 'open my shirt at the ing about the Mediterranean, a packet ship hailed us ; breast,' I did so, and I found a small piece of gold she had letters for our ship, and among the rest there tied around his neck by a ribbon. A locker he called was one for Neil Grey. But when I read it, sir, I it, but it was no more like a seaman's loker, than my was quite downhearted. It was from an old acquaint. hat's like the Gantocks. · Will you get that safely ance at home, one as had fished round the Gantocks delivered to my mother?' said he ; I'll do it myself if with me when a boy; and it told me how the poor I live to get home,' said I; and if not, I'll give it to a old man my father was dead and buried, and how sure hand, who will do it for me. Trust to Neil Gray much he sorrowed before his death, that there wasn't your honour. Thank you Neil,' said he ; "and if one of his eight sons with him, to lay his old head in you see my mother tell her,' said he, ‘tell Emily, that the grave. Well, as I said, I was quite downhearted, Í blessed them both with my dying breath. 'Better thinking on his words when we parted, but it was all not talk your honour,' said İ—he never talked more. of no use you know-what was done couldn't be un- He became weaker and weaker, and I saw life was done.”

going fast. I held one of his hands in mine, watched “ I had little heart for work that day, so I stood him, and wiped his poor parched lips with a spunge leaning on one of the guns looking to the sea, thinking soaked in vinegar, till his brave soul took flight to a of home, of him that was in his grave, and of times better life, I hope, than ever he had, knocking about on that I couldn't bring back, when our first lieutenant board the old Thunderer.” comes past, and he says to me, 'why, what's the mat- After a short pause, Neil resumed his story. “The ter with you Neil? you've got a letter from home, and locker,” said he, “ I was determined to deliver with your quite downhearted. Then, I says to him, my own hand to the Leiftenant's mother, for it should your honour,' says I, I've got a letter from home,

never be said that I had been careless in obeying the and

my old father's dead, and he hadn't a soul that wishes of a dying seaman, cost what it would. I exbelonged to him, to lay his head in the grave. Well,' amined it one night, on the outside there was hair, • Neil,' says he, “I'm sorry for what you say, but fair hair it was, and twined with it was the dark bair it's God's will, you know, and you musn't take on of poor Mr. Willoughby. In the inside was the picor be downhearted; there's no use in it, Neil; what's ture of a lady, an angel rather, your honor, for I've done can't be undone ; howsomdever,' says he, “I'll seldom seen any thing so very beautiful. I guessed it order you a double allowance of grog, and you'll do no was the Emily he mentioned when dying. Well, work to day, so keep yourself up, Neil, and you'll soon when the Thunderer had got all made right after the get over it. Now, wasn't that kind of bim your honour, action, we were ordered home with our prize, and a to be so good to a poor fellow he saw had got bad glad day it was for all on board, when we spread the news, and was quite down? Aye, he was the gentle- canvass for old England. We arrived safely at man could feel for a sailor, and though he was an Portsmouth. The Thunderer would be some time reEnglishman, be had a warm heart, as if he had been pairing before she would again be ready for sea, I got a natural born Scotsman."

leave of absence to go home, but I determined first to “ And why not,” said I, for the first time interrupt- pay a visit to Mr. Willoughby's mother." ing the talkative old man.

“When I got to the Hall, as they called it, where Aye why not your honour,” said he, “ I'm sure I the old lady lived, and a grand old house it was, with know no reason: why, only it's more naturaler you many a ball inside of it, I asked a grey-headed old know to care for our own countryman, than either an gentleman, in black, if I could see her. He shook his Englishman or an Irishman, jist as one's heart warms head, asked me civilly in, but I saw that he was quite to them again, afore any foreignder that ever was down-hearted. He told me that his lady could not be hatched. Though, for the matter of that, I've known seen, she was so ill in consequence of the death of his many a good fellow in my time, that had been born

young master. The tears fell fast down the old genin England and Ireland, but they couldn't help that, tleman's cheeks as I told all; he blest me for my kind. you know. It was their misfortune. But, as I was ness to his poor dear master; but I told him I bad saying, I loved our lieutenant jist for all the world as done nothing but my duty as a man, and what every if he had been my own father, and good reason I had; true seaman would do for another. He said, he would for he was kind to all man and boy, though he seemed tell his mistress, and let me know what she said. The to care for me more than all the rest, and I was always old chap was very kind, and, as I was both tired and ready to do what he ordered, whether it could be done

hungry, he let me want for nothing. or not."

“ After partaking of some refreshment, I was shown “ But I find I'm spinning a rather long yarn, your up to the old lady, and an elderly grand old lady she honour, so I must haul close, and belay." Not at all was, just fit to be mother to a brave seaman. The Neil,” said we all : “take another glass of grog," said beautiful young lady whose picture I had with me, the old gentleman.

Emily Willoughby, the cousin of poor Mr. Willoughby, “ And what has become of your old officer, Neil,” was also there. I can never forget her she was so said ), “ is he still fit for service?” “Ah! your honour,” pale and so lovely; so like an angel rather than a morsaid Neil, “ he lies many a fathom down in the salt sea. tal woman. The tears fell from both their eyes fast

ment seat of the Almighty, place themselves in his front, and at his side, plead his cause, palliate his faults, and (may we hope it?) obtain for him the pity and the favour of the Omnipotent Judge of All.



and freely as I told them my story, and I assure your honour, I never had more inclination to make a woman of myself than at that time, and I'm not sure if I didn't after all. Well, I gave them the locker, and they both pressed it; and they wept, and thanked me so, that I was glad to get out of the room for I couldn't stand it longer.” The tears stood in Mary's beautiful eyes : her father puffed out the smoke violently, but Neil went on with his story.

“Well, after spending some days there, I set off for Scotland, and came back to see Dunoon. It was the first time I had been in it for fifteen


I now a boatswain, and had a power of prize-money, so I married the old woman that's now my wife, left the prize-money with her, and returned to my duty in the Thunderer. Well, Sir, at last I was discharged with a pension, and then I come to Dunoon to the old woman, and now I am laid up safe for the remainder of my life. I was back at the Hall since ; the old lady was dead, and Miss Emily was mistress of the whole. She pled bard that I would come and live there; but I can't, ma'm, said I, for I must see the old Gantocks again, and lay my bones beside those of my old father. And the old woman, your honour knows, she could never have lived away from the Gantocks and the Castle Hill, more than myself. So Miss Emily has settled a pension on me too, besides what I get from the King ; and I only wish that every seaman may be so well psovided for at the end of his voyage, -as ould Neil Grey.”

Neil took his glass of grog, and, bidding us good night, walked away to the old woman who had been his wife, as he said, for so many years.

MANTLES, though fashionable, are not so exclusively so as last month, many ladies appearing in silk or merino dresses, with Cachemire shawls; and others with pelisses, either of rich silk or Cachemire, trimmed with fur. Although sable is considered more elegant, there are various other kinds in favour, as grey squirrel, chinchilla and marten. In general the muff, tippet, and trimming of the dress corresponds, but some elegantly dressed women appear with all three different. This, however, is a whim which will not be

nerally copied. Bonnets bave changed only in their trimmings : a good many are now adorned with ribbons arranged in rosettes, wbich resem. ble heads of wild endive; or else disposed in bows without ends, which rise one above another, and are placed three or four together, There are also a good many trimmed with a single long, curled, ostrich feather, which being placed nearly at the back of the crown, partially encircles it, and falls over on the other side of the brim.

The most admired ball dresses are of crape or gauze, trimmed with a mixture of flowers and ribbons in the manner we are about to describe :-A light trimming, formed of ends of cut gauze rib. bon, goes round the back and shoulders of the dress, and falls rather low over the sleeves; it is surmounted by a wreath of cockle shells, formed also of ribbon. A corkscrew roll of ribbon is disposed in the Egyptian style round the border, having in each compartment a light bouquet of flowers.

Flowers are employed almost exclusively to decorate ball coiffures, except at Court, where feathers, intermingled either with diamonds or other precious stones, are more frequently adopted. Fasbionable colours are ponceau, ruby, vert d'acanthe, bird of paradise, some new shades of yellow brown; and for evening dress, rose, azure-blue and white.



(From the German.)

Place not thy faith in thy friends, till thou hast put them to the proof—more numerous are they at the table of the banquet, than at the portal of the prison.

A man had three friends, two of them he fondly loved, the third he cared not for, although, in attachment, he was the most sincere of them all.

Once upon a time, it happened, that he was accused of a heinous crime-unjustly indeed-yet, on the instant, he was unable to prove his innocence of the charge, and he exclaimed to his friends : “ which of you, my friends, will accompany me to the seat of judgement, there to bear testimony to the purity of my actions, and to prove my innocence of this crimecome! oh, come! for appearances are against me, and the King waxeth very wroth."

And the first of bis friends answered, and said, that he was busied with his merchandice, and therefore could not come; and the second accompanied himbut only to the door of the judgement hall; for, beholding the stern visage of the angry judge, he turned and he fled; but the third-he who had never been loud in his professions, or ostentatious in his offers of friendship, now undauntedly stood with him before the judgement seat of the irritated Prince, spoke for his innocent friend, and spoke so well, that the Judge dismissed him from the tribunal, and loaded bim with his presents.

Man bath three friends here below. How do they comport themselves at the hour of death--when God calleth him away to his final account? Riches, the friend whom through life he had always esteemed the most, forsake him the first, and go not with him to the tomb. Friends and Relations attend his body to the grave perhaps, but there they leave him, and careless and unconcerned they return to their homes. His Deeds of Charity and of Mercy, his third friend—in health and vigour, alas I but too often forgotten and too much neglected—there attend him to the judge

LINES ADDRESSED TO CHILDE HAROLD. (By a Lady, during Lord Byron's life-time.) O, FORTUNE! what avail thy smiles,

No smiles to Harold's cheek they bring ; O, beauty, cease thy blandish wiles ;

For Harold, only, feels their sting. O, nature ! why on him bestow

Gifts, more than mortal minds adorn; In vain for him thy roses blow ;

For Harold, only, feels the thorn. O, genius! why, with rays divine,

And magic power his soul illume;
In vain thy starry lamp may shine ;

For Harold, only, feels its gloom.
Yet still one boon the Childe may claim,

A boon, to mortals, rarely given
On earth, to hear his deathless fame,

And feel, at last, a ray froin heaven. Dear wayward Childe, I read, I weep,

And almost feel thy fancied woes ; Nay, even thy image, when I sleep,

Dwells in my dreams, and breaks repose. But dream not of some Leman fair,

With snowy arms and eyes of blue ; Know, fifty summers o'er my hair,

And on my cheeks have blanched their hue. Yet in my heart, nor pain, nor age,

I feel, tho' both have marked my brow ; When, gazing o'er thy witching page

With pleasure, never felt till now. And, wert thou, Childe, a child of mine,

I'd sooth thee with a mother's love ;
And pray-not to the tuneful Nine-

But to the blessed powers above.
That hope in heaven, and peace on earth,

And social bliss, may still be thine ;
And feeling which, from conscious worth,

Can raise the soul to joys divine. Then, Harold, strike again the lyre,

And pour sublime tby flood of song; And let each chord thy genius fire,

As o'er its strings thou sweep'st along. No gloomy thoughts of men's decay,

Shall, then, thy spotless pages soil ; But wreaths, unfading, crown thy lay,

And fame, immortal, bless thy toil.


tions from La Fontaine, Krasicki, and others; selected for the instruction of Youth, and embellished with engravings on wood, is announced for immediate publication.


GREAT alarm bas been caused among the ladies of Glasgow, by the report that the gay and gallant 4th are about to be withdrawn from the society of this city, which they have now, for a considerable time, adorned by their presence. We have no doubt that, while real testimonials of gratitude are awarded to this regi. ment for the correct and orderly behaviour of its privates during its sojourn among us, the bandsome and spirited officers will not be permitted to depart without sighs from fair lips and tears from bright eyes.

We only hope that en revanche for the breaking hearts which they will leave behind them, they will carry along with them the remembrance of our belles engraven upon their own hearts, and that, if they do not deprive our fashionable circles of any of their female ornaments, they will take with them pledges of affection, to be redeemed at some future period, when the calls of their service may permit them to obey a scarcely less imperious duty, and pay another visit to Glasgow.

The remaining stock and copy-right of this well-conducted Miscellany were sold in London, in consequence of the state of the copartnery by which it was carried on, at £3428, 13s. 4d. for å private individual, unconnected with the bookselling trade ; for whom the work is to be published in future in London by White taker and Co., and in Edinburgh by Constable and Co. The copyright belonged to Messrs. Hurst, Chance, and Co. four shares, Mr. H. Constable one share, and Mr. J. Aitken, tbe very able and efficient editor, one share. The past vols. were taken at eightpepce. We have seen a small pampblet with testimonials of the merits of Mr. Aitken (among others those of Professor Wile son, Mr. Lockhart, Mr. James, Mr. Motherwell, Mr. Charles Maclaren, Mr. Robert Chambers, Mr. M.Diarmid, &c.) in the sentiments contained in which we take this public opportunity, from long observation of his taste and judgment, of expressing our entire concurrence. Should he resign the helm, it will not be easy to substitute an equally able steersman.-Lit. Gaz.



Every individual, who has paid any attention to the study of Hieroglyphics, will regret to hear that M. Champollion, member of the Academie des Inscriptions, bade adieu to this life, last week, at Paris, after a long and painful illness. By his death the scientific world sustains an irreparable loss. The obscurity of Egyptian History had only acquired sufficient intensity, to point to us the treasures wbich were concealed there, without enabling us to examine and render them available.


BENEFITS OF LITERATURE. - Literature, like Virtue, is its own reward, and the enthusiasm some experience in the incalculable and permanent enjoyments of a vast library, have far outweighed the veglect or the calomny of the world, which some of its votaries bave received. From the time of Cicero, in bis well-known oration for the poet Archias, inoumerable are the testimonies of men of letters of the pleasurable delirium of such researches; that delicious beverage which they bave swallowed, so thirstily, from the Circæan cup of literature. Richard de Bury, bishop of Durham, chancellor and bigla treasurer of England, so early as 1311, was so enamoured of his large collection of books, that be bas expressly composed a treatise on bis love of books, under the title of Philobiblion, a great 'effort for the times, and an honourable tribute paid to literature, in an age not literary.

Portrait PainTING.–Lord Orford preferred an interesting portrait, to either landscape or bistorical painting. A landscape, said he, however excellent in its distribution of wood and water and buildings, leaves not one trace in the memory. Historical painting is perpetually false in a variety of ways, in the costume, the grouping, the portraits, &c. and is nothing more than fabulous painting ; but a real portrait is truth itself; and calls up so many collateral ideas as to fill an intelligent mind, more than any other species.

FRENCH LOTTERIEs.—The ladies in France assist the poor occasionally by lotteries. Ths Countess of Bondy, lady of the Prefect of the Seine, had a lottery a week or two ago at her hotel, by means of which several works of fancy were disposed of amongst the contributors, which were wrought by some of the most lovely hands in Paris, including those of the Queen, and of the Princesses, her daughters. The contributions on the whole amounted to about £160, and every subscriber won something of more or less value.


During the present session, the pious and learned President of this Society, the Bishop of Salisbury, has resigned the chair, in which be has sat since its foundation by his late Majesty. The reasons assigned were, his advanced age, and the probability of his being less in town than heretofore. The Council addressed a let. ter of grateful thanks to his Lordship, for his unwearied zeal and valuable services to the Institution ; and the temporary presidency devolved upon his Grace the Duke of Rutland, the first upon the list of vice-presidents. Having witnessed the labours of the most estimable Prelate, from the beginning to this time, we venture humbly to express our high admiration of the ability and tinelytoned judgment with which he has throughout adorned his office.

February 1st.-W. Sothbey, Esq. in the chair. Mr. Hamilton read a memoir by Mr. Millingen, royal associate, on the origin of the Roman divinities. While many of the gods of ancient Rome retained their Greek names anchanged, others received appellations wholly different. This remarkable fact Mr. Millin. gen endeavours to reconcile with the acknowledged identity of the religious system of the Greeks and Romans. In a variety of learned remarks on the derivation of the names of the twelve principal deities of the latter people, as well as on those of many of the gods of an inferior order, he shews that they were all alike of Greek origin; thereby confirming the identity above mentioned, and, by consequence, strengthening the existing testimony in regard to the Greek origin of the Roman race. A letter was read from Mr. S. Angell, containing a description of the ruins of one of the temples at Selinus, in Sicily, in reference to a notice read at the meeting of January 4, relative to the subjects of several sculptured metopes, lately examined among those ruins, the existence of which was discovered by Mr. Angell, in the year 1823.

February 15th.-W. R. Hamilton, Esq. in the chair. moir was read by Mr. J. P. Thomas, in which much light was thrown upon the moral and allegorical meanings of the fabulous mythology of Greece and Rome. Part of a memoir by the Rev. Dr. J. Jamieson, royal associate, was likewise read, on the earliest Scottish coins now extant. Wise, in his catalogue of the Bodleian collection, referring to those coins which by Anderson, in his Diplomata Scotia, have been assigned to Alexander and David, each tbe first of his name, has strongly expressed his doubts whether any of them go further back than to the age of William the Lion, who began his reign in 1165 ; for, observes that writer, those commonly given to Alexander 1. and David I. were probably struck by Alexander II. and David II. This opinion, which is also maintained by Snelling and De Cardonnel, is combated, and, as it appears to us suceessfully, by Dr. Jamieson.

A me

We have been favoured with the Epistle of Umbra, and will be glad to hear from him more fully on a subject which be appears 80 competent to give an opinion. If he will turn to Müchler, Miller and some of the more modern German Poets, he will find equally glaring proofs of German plagiarism from the English, as that which he has sent us from Kosegarten.

T. O.'s" communication has been put into the hands of our Gaelic Critic.

Spero's" Stanzas have been received, and will probably appear The first portion of “0. P. Qo's" communication will be inserted, but the latter part will not do for us.

J. L.’s” verses do not come up to the standard of our Poetical Critic.

The Enigma of our Edinburgh correspondent “C." will probably appear when other more important claims on our columns are answered.


y al communications for the Editor of The Dar” are requested to be left with the Publisher, Mr. Joan FINLAY, No. 9, Miller Street.


PUBLISHED, every Morning, Sunday excepted, by John Finlay, at

No. 9, Miller Street; and Sold by John Wylie, 97, Argyle Street; David ROBERTSON, and W. R. M.Phun, Glasgore ; Thomas Stevenson, and the other Booksellers, Edinburgh : DaVID Dick, and A. GARDNER, Booksellers, Paisley : A. LAING, Greenock; and J. Glass, Bookseller, Rothsay.

The Voice of the West Indies and the Cry of England, or Compensation or Separation considered, is in the Press.

Flowers of Fable, culled from the works of Epictetus, Croxall, Dodsley, Pope, Moore, Merrick, Dennis ; with original transla








greement of opinion will always be multiplied, not

because we are irrational, but because we are finite We have strict Statutes, and most biting Laws.

beings, furnished with different kinds of knowledge, The needful bits and curbs for head strong steeds.

exerting different degrees of attention, and one discov

ering consequences which escape another.” So long, In this mercantile community, every third man in any

therefore, as the minds of men are differently constitutbusiness, of ordinary extent, is engaged in some legal

ed, so long must difference of opinion exist—so long

must different views be taken of the same subject, and dispute, and must of necessity have recourse to the service of a lawyer; yet, no where are lawyers and

so long must there be uncertainty, as to the issue of every thing relating to the legal profession, more

every legal dispute, without attaching to the law itself, sneeringly, and unfeelingly talked of than in our own

or to those of the profession, the slightest degree of

blame or discredit. good city. It is impossible to account for this, except on the score of prejudice ; for, in no other profession is It is a common remark, but not the less true, that there more learning, more ability, or men, in any walk no man can judge soundly, or disinterestedly, in his of life, of higher honour and integrity, or who by the own cause ; for the feelings of self-interest bias his zealous and laborious discharge of their duties, confer judgment, which, in any matter betwixt other parties, more lasting and important benefits on those, who might be firm, decided and impartial. Lawyers, getimeously ask their assistance. And yet, it is not un

nerally, are fully sensible of this, and, accordingly, comamon, to see many an ignorant dealer in ginghams, even the most intelligent of them entrust their perlaw ns, and lappets, rum puncheons and tobacco, raise

sonal cases to the more cool and dispassionate judghis small voice against a profession, embracing men, ment of some professional brother. But there are of whose learning, ability and honour, he may not be

litigants, and that too a numerous class, who do not capable of forming even a conception.

follow the same wise example, but who, contrary to The "glorious uncertainty of the law," au expres

the advice of those whom they consult, push on every sion first introduced by the lamented Canning, has legal question to which they are parties, while the inbeen much used, and used too, as an expression of re

justice of their pleas, and the monstrous absurdity of proach against the profession-yet, the law is not un

their demands, are obvious and plain to every one but certain. As a science, it embodies the principles of

themselves. A litigant of this description (an enthuthe most exalted morality, and its study, so far from

siast in a cause which he cannot estimate dispassionbeing dry and uninteresting, as is generally and vul- ately) soon learns, to his cost, the ruinous result

, and garly believed, is perhaps more instructive, and better wonders at a termination so very opposite to his most calculated, than any other branch of human knowledge, sanguine expectations. Unable to account for the acto impress upon the mind of the student, the principles curacy of the decision, and believing it impossible that of justice, equity and truth. It is no doubt true, ihat he could have been wrong, or that he could have been there is a great degree of uncertainty, attending the

asking any thing unjust, or resisting any thing fair and result of every legal dispute, but this does not arise proper, his only resource is, to impute his discomfiture from the law itself. It arises from the facts of every

in Court to the stupidity of the Judge, to the carelessindividual case as they may be brought out in evidence, ness or want of ability on the part of his advisers, or and from the light in which these established facts to the absurdity and injustice of the principles of law may be viewed, by the presiding judge, as either sup- on which the case may bave been decided. All this porting or not supporting, the legal arguments raised very frequently occurs. It occurs too, sometimes, by the parties. The untrue statements, too, made by with persons who, in every thing but their own law the li tigants themselves, the concealment sometimes

pleas, have sound, vigorous and well-informed minds, of part of the truth, the breaking down of evidence, on

and probably one half of the idle and vulgar abuse which the parties confidently relied; these and other

directed against the legal profession originates in the causes, which we might enumerate, serve to throw a way we have mentioned, and, from the chagrin of ligreat share of uncertainty around the result of every

tigants thus defeated through the absurdity and injuslegal fight, while the law itself, and its principles of tice of their own demands, and who, through obtuseright and wrong, as applicable to all the various and ness and obstinacy, despised the advice of their counintricate transactions of men, stand free of all mystery,

sel, and would, right or wrong, litigate to the last. uncertainty or doubt. The conflicting and opposite

But there are another description of litigants more opinions of judges is a matter of every-day occurrence. entitled to sympathy, although their conduct is far Those in the provinces give judgement one way, those from being either prudent or blameless. We allude of the supreme court give it another way, while last of to those who generally resort to legal advice when it all, the Lord Chancellor may give it a third way; but, is too late, and who, like the victim of some malignant all this difference of opinion does not prove the uncer- disease, in place of resorting to medical aid when the tainty of the law as a judicial code, or as a branch of malady was in its opening bud, has allowed it to fesscience, but merely the different impressions, made ter and increase, until all chance of cure and recovery upon the minds of different judges, by the same evid- has been lost and abandoned. How


broken ence, or by the same arguments used by the same par- hearts might have been prevented, how many virtuties. There is no way of helping this; for it is im- ous and industrious men might have been saved from possible to force men, conscientiously, to view the ruin and dishonour, had they timeously resorted for same thing in the same light. “ As a question becomes advice to some honourable and disinterested lawyer ? more complicated and involved,” says Dr. Johnson, We have observed men who have risen themselves in “and extends to a greater number of relations, disa- the world, much to their own bonour, by their own

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merit and exertion, and others, who have risen by not to screen the criminal from justice, but to shew to some lucky stroke in the wbeel of fortune, which they the world that a monster, guilty of crimes before unlittle deserved, become puffed up with such notions of heard of, should have a fair and honourable trial, so their own ability and importance, and with such a con- far as their ability could secure it, and that the public viction of their own infallibility, that they have played voice, which cried aloud for vengeance, should not be “ Such fantastic tricks before high Heaven,

allowed to overstep the strict letter of the law, so far As make the Angels weep.”

as the first talent in the country could prevent it. In And, believing it impossible to err, or that any thing

a bad case, this is all that the lawyer can do. He can to which they put their hand, should not prosper—

only watch that no unfair or improper advantage is have seen these persons, with a recklessness perfectly taken of the guilty party, and that there is no departdistressing, become parties to legal obligations, with ure from the law on the part of the judge.

He can out either being able or disposed to estimate, fairly, do nothing more, and those wbo talk of the indiscrimitheir legal nature, import, or tendency. Had they nate defence of right or wrong, as destructive of all only paused at the threshold of this vortex of ruin, for moral principle on the part of the lawyer, talk of legal advice, and for a little sober reflection, how much what never occurs, and of that which is not known. after regret, misery, and pain, might have been avoid- In thus, briefly, pointing out some of the sources ed. Yet, there is a vulgar prejudice against applying from which the common abuse of the legal profession early for legal opinion, and it is only when difficulties arise, we do not mean to say, that it has not its quacks, begin to draw around certain individuals, and when and its bad men, like every other profession and octhey begin to see how they have been over-reached and cupation. But, quackery, in the law, is but a poor duped, by those who bad an interest to do so, that business. These gentry are soon discovered, and soon they resort to those legal consultations which they crushed by the court; and, it so happens, that the formerly held so cheap. But, alas ! they come for existence of legal quacks is but short lived, and never counsel, at the twelfth hour. They come when they profitable, and, that they are not nearly so numerous are bound, hand and foot, and when no legal ability

as political, clerical, and medical quacks, or any other or learning can relieve them from the grasp of their description of such persons. merciless opponent; and, if a legal question is raised As a profession, the law has both its pains and its in such cases, it is raised not with any chance of suc

pleasures. It demands uncommon industry, persevecess, but merely to put off the evil hour. Tired and rance, and a fair share of talent ; and, no young lawyer, sickened with discussion, defeated and vanquished in

who bas these, coupled with honourable, and indeall their attempts to soften their legal obligations, this pendent feelings, may be afraid, however humble, at description of litigants, in the bitterness of their sor- the coinmencement of his career, of ultimate success, row, curse all law and all lawyers ; and to this state of and of lasting honour. Of all things, he must be stafeeling not a little of the abuse, to which we have dious, honourable, and independent. He must not alluded, is to be attributed.

allow his opinion to be moulded by the influence, the “ The law's delay" seems to have been a subject of

whim, and the caprice of “the blown-up fool above complaint, even in the days of the immortal Shake

him," nor must he turn a deaf ear to “ the abject

wretch beneath him.” He must neither be oppressive speare, for in one of the finest of Hamlet's soliloquies, it is mentioned as one of the many ills “that flesh is

to the poor, nor obsequious to the rich. He must do heir to.” That there is delay, and great expense too,

bis duty, which is often painful, fairly, firmly, and is not to be denied, but it is equally undeniable that

honourably to all. In short, to be a good and success. these cannot be attributed to those of the profession,

ful lawyer, he must be a good man, and, although his but to the tedious forms and modes of procedure ob

reward may be distant, still, it will be sore ; for, in the served in our courts, which can only be remedied by

words of old John Kemble, “study and honourable a legislative enactinent. The day for these and other

feeling will always work wonders." improvements is fast approaching. The present enormous expense is occasioned by extravagant fees paid

THE STAMMERING PARVENU. to useless servants, and understrappers of court, and this state of things is nearly as prejudicial to the pro- The following is part of a long communication, sent fession itself, as to the litigants themselves. There is us by a correspondent. The subject of the story is, a no lawyer of respectability, therefore, but who would very sensitive young man, who labours under the willingly lend a helping hand to remove “the law's de- double misfortune of an awkward manner, and a lay, the insolence of office,” and the present profuse stammering pronunciation. By a piece of fortune, and extravagant payment to useless officers and

super- which proves to him any thing rather than a service, he numeraries, whose services are not necessary to the fair has been raised from a humble situation in life, to the administration of justice betwixt man and man. possession of great wealth; and the miseries to which

We have heard it stated as a ground of charge, this change exposed him are very pathetically describagainst lawyers, that they are obliged, at times, to use ed. Among other things, he mentions, that, if it fell all their ingenuity in defence of what is wrong, and to his lot to carve any thing, at a dinner table, his that this indiscriminate justification of every thing, awkwardness was so extreme, that, after puffing and either good, bad, or indifferent, destroys all moral prin- toiling till he had helped every one, he would lay down ciple, and degrades those of the profession as passive his knife and fork, not daring to help himself. This instruments in the hands of the unworthy and the is, certainly, a suffering which no epicurean would, knavish. But we believe that there is no honourable willingly, endure, but it is only the first of the inconlawyer (and it is of them, only, that we speak) who veniences to which our friend was exposed. Somewould, willingly, deceive any client, or who would times, when he was walking in the street, he would hold out any chance of success in a suit, which he sin- meet some friend who would ask him to dinner, and, cerely and privately believes to be essentially bad, ei- often, bis hesitation was so great, that, instead of sayther as to fact, law, or equity. There are cases liti- ing no, he would say yes. The consequence was, that, gated, which, no doubt, are considered to be hopeless, when the dinner hour arrived, he would leave home, but this is done as before explained, at the request of with the purpose of going, but, before he could get the party himself. And, even in cases totally bad, it half way, he would, almost invariably, return again, is proper for counsel to make a stand, were it for no- for fear of meeting people whom he did not know. thing else than to keep the court and the jury (if there Even this does not exhaust the catalogue of his dinbe one) in check, and from trespassing beyond all law ing disasters ; for, when he was obliged to visit, he and all justice. For example, at the trial of Burke, would always go, either half an hour too soon, or as that prince of murderers, the first counsel at the bar much too late; and, often, when the latter occurred, appeared for the defence, and these great men did so, if told the company had already sat down to dinner,

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