rest you show me, or ungrateful for it?' said I, with even more interest than I could have wished to express. Your's is meant for true kindness, shown best at the hour of need. But I must not, for your own sake -for the chance of misconstruction-suffer you to pursue the dictates of your generosity; this is so public an occasion-it is almost like venturing into an open court of justice.'

And if it were not almost, but altogether, entering into an open court of justice, do you think I would not go there if I thought it right, and wished to protect a friend? You have no one to stand by you--you are a stranger; and here, in the outskirts of the kingdom, country justices do odd things. My uncle has no desire to embroil himself in your affair;-Rashleigh is absent, and were he here, there is no knowing which side he might take;-the rest are all more stupid and brutal one than another. I will go with you, and I do not fear being able to serve you. I am no fine lady, to be terrified to death with law books, hard words, or big wigs.'

'But, my dear Miss Vernon-'

'But, my dear Mr. Francis, be patient and quiet, and let me take my own way; for when I take the bit between my teeth, there is no bridle will stop me.'

'Flattered with the interest so lovely a creature seemed to take in my fate, yet vexed at the ridiculous appearance I should make, by carrying a girl of eighteen along with me as an advocate, and seriously concerned for the misconstruction to which her motives might be exposed, I endeavoured to combat her resolution to accompany me to Squire Inglewood's. The self-will'd girl told me roundly, that my dissuasions were absolutely in vain; that she was a true Vernon whom no consideration, not even that of being able to do but little to assist him, should induce to abandon a friend in distress; and that all I could say on the subject might be very well for pretty, well-educated, well-behaved misses from a town boarding-school, but did not apply to her, who was accustomed to mind nobody's opinion but her own.

"While she spoke thus we were advancing hastily towards InglewoodPlace, while, as if to divert me from the task of farther remonstrance, she drew a ludicrous picture of the magistrate and his clerk. Inglewood was, according to her description, a white-washed jacobite, that is, one who, having been long a non-juror, like most of the other gentlemen of the country, had lately qualified himself to act as a justice, by taking the oaths to government. He had done so,' she said, 'in compliance with the urgent request of most of his brother squires, who saw, with regret, that the palladium of sylvan sport, the game-laws, were likely to fall into disuse for want ofa magistrate who would enforce them; the nearest acting justice being the Mayor of Newcastle, and he, as being rather inclined to the consumption of the game when properly dressed, than to its preservation when alive, was more partial, of course, to the cause of the poacher than of the sportsman. Resolving, therefore, that it was expedient some one of their number should sacrifice the scruples of jacobitical loyalty to the good of the community, the Northumbrian country gentlemen imposed the duty on Inglewood, who, being very inert in most of his feelings and sentiments, might, they thought, comply with any political creed without much repugnance. Having thus procured the body of justice, they proceeded,' continued Miss Vernon, 'to attach to it a clerk, by way of soul, to direct and animate its movements. Accordingly they got a sharp Newcastle attorney, called Jobson; whe, to

vary my metaphor, finds it a good thing enough to retail justice at the sign of Squire Inglewood, and, as his own emoluments depend on the quantity of business which he transacts, he hooks in his principal for a great deal more employment in the justice-line than the honest squire had ever bargained for; so that no apple-wife within the circuit of ten miles can settle her account with a coster-monger without an audience of the reluctant justice and his alert clerk, Mr. Joseph Jobson. But the most ridiculous scenes occur when affairs come before him, like our business of to-day, having any colouring of politics. Mr. Joseph Jobson (for which no doubt, he has his own very sufficient reasons,) is a prodigious zealot for the protestant religion, and a great friend to the present establishment in church and state. Now, his principal, retaining a sort of instinctive attachment to the opinions which he professed openly, until he relaxed his political creed, with the patriotic view of enforcing the law against unauthorized destroyers of blackgame, grouse, partridges, and hares, is peculiarly embarrassed when the zeal of his assistant involves him in judicial proceedings connected with his earlier faith; and instead of seconding his zeal, he seldom fails to oppose to it a double dose of indolence and lack of exertion. And this inactivity does not by any means arise from actual stupidity. On the contrary, for one whose principal delight is in eating and drinking, he is an alert, joyous, and lively old soul, which makes his assumed dulness the more diverting. So you may see Jobson on such occasions, like a bit of a broken-down blood tit condemned to drag an overloaded cart puffing, strutting, and spluttering, to get the justice put in motion, while though the wheels groan, creak, and revolve slowly, the great and prepondering weight of the vehicle fairly frustrates the efforts of the willing quadruped, and prevents its being brought into a state of actual progression. Nay more, the unfortunate poney, I understand, has been heard to complain, that this same car of justice, which he finds it so hard to put in motion on some occasions, can on others run fast enough down hill of its own accord, dragging his reluctant self backwards along with it, when any thing can be done of service to Squire Inglewood's quondam friends. And then Mr. Jobson talks big about reporting his principal to the Secretary of State for the Home Department, if it were not for his particular regard and friendship for Mr. Inglewood and his family.'

'As Miss Vernon concluded this whimsical description, we found ourselves in front of Inglewood-Place, a handsome, though old-fashioned building, which showed the consequence of the family.

'I followed Miss Vernon as she tripped up a few gloomy steps, traversed a twilight passage and entered a sort of antiroom, hung round with old maps, architectural elevations, and genealogical trees. A pair of folding doors opened from this into Mr. Inglewood's sitting apartment, from which was heard the fag-end of an old ditty, chanted by a voice which had been in its day fit for a jolly bottle song.

"O, in Skipton-in-Craven,
Is never a haven,

But many a day foul weather;
And he that would say

A pretty girl nay,

I wish for his cravat a tether."

'Hey day!' said Miss Vernon, the genial justice must have dined already, I did not think it had been so late.'

'It was even so. Mr.Inglewood's appetite having been sharpened by his official investigations, he had ante-dated his meridian repast, having dined at twelve instead of one o'clock, then the general dining-hour in England. The various occurrences of the morning occasioned our arriving some time after this hour, to the justice the most important of the four-and-twenty, and he had not neglected the interval. 'Stay you here,' said Diana; 'I know the house, and I will call a servant; your sudden appearance might startle the old gentleman even to choking;' and she escaped from me, leaving me uncertain whether I ought to advance or retreat. It was impossible for me not to hear some part of what past within the dinner apartment, and particularly several apologies for declining to sing, expressed in a dejected croaking voice, the tones of which I conceived were not entirely new to me. Not sing, sir! by our lady! but you must-What! you have cracked my silver-mounted cocoanut of sack, and tell me that you cannot sing!-Sir, sack will make a cat speak and sing too; so up with a merry stave, or trundle yourself out of my doors-Do you think you are to take up all my valuable time with your d―d declarations, and then tell me you cannot sing!'

'Your worship is perfectly in rule,' said another voice, which, from its pert conceited accent, might be that of the clerk, and the party must be conformable; he hath canet written on his face in court hand.'

'Up with it, then,' said the justice, or by St. Christopher, you shall crack the cocoa-nut full of salt and water, according to the statute for such effect made and provided.'

'Thus exhorted and threathened, my quondam fellow-traveller, for I could no longer doubt that he was the recusant in question, uplifted, with a voice similar to that of a criminal singing his last psalm on the scaffold, a most doleful stave to the following effect:

"Good people all, I pray give ear,

A woful story you shall hear,
"Tis of a robber as stout as ever
Bade a true man stand and deliver.

With his foodle doo fa loodle loo.

"This knave most worthy of a cord,
Being arm'd with pistol and with sword,
Twixt Kensington and Brentford then
Did boldly stop six honest men.
With his foodle doo, &c.

"These honest men did at Brentford dine,
Having drank each man his pint of wine,
When this bold thief, with many curses,
Did say, You dogs, your lives or purses.
With his foodle doo," &c.

I question if the honest men, whose misfortune is commemorated in this pathetic ditty, were more startled at the appearance of the bold thief, than the songster was at mine; for tired of waiting for some one to announce me, and finding my situation as a listener rather awkward, I presented myself to the company just as my friend Mr. Morris, for such, it seems, was his name, was uplifting the fifth stave of his doleful ballad. The high note, with which the tune started, died away in a quaver of consternation upon finding himself so near one whose character he supposed to be little less suspicious than that of the hero of his ma

drigal, and he remained silent, with a mouth gaping as if I had brought the, Gorgon's head in my hand.

The justice, whose eyes had closed under the influence of the somniferous lullaby of the song, started up in his chair as it suddenly ceased, and stared with wonder at the unexpected addition which the company had received, while his organs of sight were in abeyance. The clerk, as I conjectured him to be from his appearance, was also commoved, for, sitting opposite to Mr. Morris, that honest gentleman's terror communicated itself to him, though he wotted not why.'

The perversions of law in those as in later periods are happily exemplified in the character of the justice's clerk, one Jobson, a man wresting its chicanery and its quibbles to his own vile purposes, in extortions upon the innocent, and we acquire no favourable impression of its powers in the hands of dangerous men, as interpreted by this unworthy disciple of Blackstone. At the examination, so ingeniously are the circumstances plotted, and occasionally such an aspect of fearful suspense do the proceedings assume, that we seem to tremble for the arraigned, and to feel for innocence unjustly suspected more than probably Francis would himself have felt.

We are tempted to give the examination at large, as it is unique of its kind, and, for humour and caricature of his profession may relax the proverbial gravity even of a judge himself.

I broke the silence of surprise occasioned by my abrupt entrance. My name, Mr. Inglewood, is Francis Osbaldistone; I understand that some scoundrel has brought a complaint before you, charging me with being concerned in a loss which he says he has sustained.'

'Sir,' said the justice, somewhat peevishly, these are matters I never enter upon after dinner-there is a time for every thing, and a justice of peace must eat as well as other folks.'

The goodly person of Mr. Inglewood, by the way; seemed by no means to have suffered by any fasts, whether in the service of the law or of religion.

I beg pardon for my ill-timed visit, sir; but as my reputation is concerned, and as the dinner appears to be concluded—'

'It is not concluded, sir,' replied the magistrate, man requires digestion as well as food, and I protest I cannot have benefit from my victuals, unless I am allowed two hours of quiet leisure, intermixed with harmless mirth, and a moderate circulation of the bottle.'

If your honour will forgive me,' said Mr. Jobson, who had produced and arranged his writing implements in the brief space that our conversation afforded; as this is a case of felony, and the gentleman seems something impatient, the charge is contra pacem domini regis'— 'D-n domini regis!" said the impatient justice,-I hope it's no treason to say so;—but it's enough to make one mad to be worried in this way-have I a moment of my life quiet, for warrants, orders, directions, acts, bails, bonds, and recognisances?-I pronounce to you, Mr. Jobson, that I shall send you and the justiceship to the devil one of these days.' "Your honour will consider the dignity of the office-one of the quorum and custos rotulorum, an office of which sir Edward Coke wisely saith, The whole christian world hath not the like of it, so it be duly executed.'

'Well,' said the justice, partly reconciled by this eulogium on the dignity of his situation, and gulping down the rest of his dissatisfaction in a huge bumper of claret, let us to this gear then, and get rid of it as fast as we can. Here you, sir,-you, Morris-you, knight of the sorrowful countenance-is this Mr. Francis Osbaldistone the gentleman whom you charge with being art and part of felony?'

I, sir?' replied Morris, whose scattered wits had hardly yet re-assembled themselves- I charge nothing-I say nothing against the gentleman.'

Then we dismiss your complaint, sir, that's all, and a good riddance -Push about the bottle-Mr. Osbaldistone, help yourself."

'Jobson, however, was determined that Morris should not back out of the scrape so easily. What do you mean, Mr. Morris?-Here is your own declaration-the ink scarce dried-and you would retract it in this scandalous manner!'

How do I know,' whispered the other, in a tremulous tone, how many rogues are in the house to back him-I have read of such things in Johnson's Lives of the Highwaymen -I protest the door opens'

And it did open, and Diana Vernon entered- You keep fine order here, justice-not a servant to be seen or heard.'

Ah!' said the justice, starting up with an alacrity which showed that he was not so engrossed by his devotions to Themis, or Comus, to forget what was due to beauty- Ah, ha! Die Vernon, the heath bell of Cheviot, and the blossom of the Border, come to see how the old bachelor keeps house-Art welcome, girl, as flowers in May.'

A fine open, hospitable house you do keep, justice, that must be allowed-not a soul to answer a visiter.'

Ah! the knaves, they reckoned themselves secure of me for a couple of hours-But why did you not come earlier?-Your cousin Rashleigh dined here, and ran away like a poltroon after the first bottle was out-But you have not dined-we'll have something nice and lady-like -sweet and pretty, like yourself, tossed up in a trice.'

'I can't stay, justice-I came with my cousin, Frank Osbaldistone, there, and I must show him the way back again to the Hall, or he'll lose himself in the wolds.'

'Whew! sits the wind in that quarter?' answered the justice,

"She showed him the way, and she showed him the way,

She showed him the way to woo."

What! no luck for old fellows, then, my sweet bud of the wilderness?' None whatever, squire Inglewood; but if you will be a good kind justice, and despatch young Frank's business, and let us canter home again, I'll bring my uncle to dine with you next week, and we'll expect merry doings.'

And you shall find them, my pearl of Tyne-Zookers, lass, I never envy these young fellows their rides and scampers, unless when you come across me. But I must not keep you just now, I suppose? I am quite satisfied with Mr. Francis Osbaldistone's explanation-here has been some mistake, which can be cleared at greater leisure.'

'Pardon me, sir,' said I, but I have not heard the nature of the accusation yet.'

'Yes sir,' said the clerk, who, at the appearance of Miss Vernon, had given up the matter in despair, but who picked up courage to press