rebutters,, replications, exceptions, essoigns, and imparlance.

Serj. [To himself.] Fine instruments in the hands of a man who knows how to use them.-But now, Jack, we come to the point: if an able advocate has his choice in a cause, (which if he is in reputation he may readily have,) which side should he choose, the right, or the wrong?

Jack. A great lawyer's business, is always to make choice of the wrong.

Serj. And prithee why so?

Jack. Because a good cause can speak for itself, whilst a bad one demands an able counsellor to give it a colour.

Serj. Very well.

But in what respects will

this answer to the lawyer himself?

Jack. In a two-fold way; firstly, his fees will be large in proportion to the dirty work he is to do. Serj. Secondly?

Jack. His reputation will rise, by obtaining the victory in a desperate cause.

Serj. Right, boy.-Are you ready in the case. of the cow?

Jack. Pretty well, I believe.
Serj. Give it then.

Jack. First of April, anno seventeen hundred and blank, John a Nokes was indicted by blank, before blank, in the county of blank, for stealing a cow, contra pacem, etcet.-and against the statute in that case provided and made, to prevent stealing of cattle.

Serj. Go on.

Jack. Said Nokes was convicted upon the

said statute.

Serj. What follow'd

upon ?

Jack. Motion in arrest of judgment, made by counsellor Puzzle. First, because the field from whence the cow was convey'd is laid in the indictment as round, but turn'd out upon proof to be square.

Serj. That's well: a valid objection.

Jack. Secondly, Because in said indictment the colour of the cow is called red, there being no such things in rerum natura as red cows, no more than black lions, spread eagles, flying griffins, or blue boars.

Serj. Well put.

Jack. Thirdly, said Nokes has not offended against form of the statute; because stealing of cattle is there provided against; whereas we are only convicted for stealing a cow. Now, though cattle may be cows, yet it does by no means follow that cows must be cattle.

Serj. Bravo, bravo! buss me, you rogue; you are your father's own son! go on, and prosper.I am sorry, dear Jack, I must leave thee. If Providence but sends thee life and health, I prophesy, thou wilt wrest as much land from the owners, and save as many thieves from the gallows, as any practitioner since the days of king Alfred.

Jack. I'll do my endeavour. [Exit Serjeant.] So! -father is set off. Now if I can but lay eyes on our Charlotte, just to deliver this letter, before madam comes home. There she is.-Hist, sister

Charlotte!

Enter Charlotte.

Char. What have you got there, Jack?

Jack. Something for you, sister.

Char. For me! Prithee, what is it?

Jack. A thing.

Char. What thing?

Jack. A thing that will please you I'm sure.

Char. Come, don't be a boy, let me have it.

[Jack gives the letter.] How's this! a letter! from

whom?

Jack. Can't you guess?

Char. Not I; I don't know the hand.

Jack. May be not; but you know the inditer,

Char. Then tell me his name.

Jack. Break open the seal, and you'll find it.
Char. [Opening the letter.]

"Charles Wood

ford!"-I am sure I know nothing of him.

Jack. Ay, but sister, you do.

Char. How! when, and where?

Jack. Don't you remember about three weeks ago, when you drank tea at our chambers, there was a young gentleman in a blue sattin waistcoat, who wore his own head of hair?

Char. Well?

Jack.. That letter's from he.

Char. What can be his business with me?
Jack. Read that, and you'll know.

Char. [reads.] "Want words to apologizehum-very first moment I saw you-hum, humsmother'd long in my breast-hum, hum-happiest, or else the most wretched of men."-So, sir, you have undertaken a pretty commission! and what do you think my father will

Jack. Why, I hope you won't go for to tell him. Char. Indeed, sir, but I shall.

Jack. No, sister, I'm sure you won't be so cross. Besides, what could I do? The poor young lad begg'd so hard; and there for this fortnight he has gone about sighing, and musing, and moping: I am satisfied it would melt you to see him. Do, sister, let me bring him this evening, now father is

out.

Char. Upon my word!-The young man has made no bad choice of an agent; you are for pushing matters at once.-But harkee, sir, who is this spark you are so anxious about? And how long have you known him?

Jack. Oh! a prodigious long while above a month I am certain. Don't you think him mighty genteel? I assure you he is vastly liked by the ladies.

Char. He is,

Jack. Yes, indeed, Mrs. Congo, at the Grecian coffee-house, says, he's the soberest youth that comes to the house and all Mrs. Mittens's prentices throw down their work, and run to the window every time he goes by.

Char. Upon my word!

Jack. And moreover, besides that, he has several great estates in the country, but only for the present, he is kept out of 'em all by the owners. Char. Ah, Jack! that's the worst part of the story.

Fack. Pshaw! that's nothing at all. His guardian, Mr. Fairplay, has been with father today, and says, he is certain that he can set all to rights in a trice.

Char. Well, Jack, when that point is determined, it will be time enough to

Jack. Then! lord of mercy! why, sister Charlotte, it is my private opinion that if you don't give him some crumbs of comfort, he won't live till Midsummer term.

Char. I warrant you. Either Cupid's darts were always but poetical engines, or they have been lately deprived of their points. Love holds no place in the modern bills of mortality. However, Jack, you may tell your friend, that I have observed his frequent walks in our street.

Jack. Walks! Why one should think he was appointed to relieve the old watchman? for no sooner one is off, but the other comes on.

Char. And that from his eyes being constantly fixed on my window (for the information of which, I presume, he is indebted to you)-

Jack. He he he!

Char. I had a pretty shrewd guess at his business; but tell him that unless my fa

Hush!

our tyrant is return'd. Don't leave the house till

I see you.

Enter Mrs. Circuit and Betty.

Mrs. Circ. So, sir, what makes you loitering from chambers? I thought I told you, you should never be here but at meals? [Exit Jack.] One spy is enough in a family.-Miss, you may go to your room; and d'ye hear-I shall have company, so you need not come down. [Exit Charlotte.]Betty, no message or letter?

Betty. None, madam.

Mrs. Circ. That is amazing!-You know I expect colonel Secret and Mrs. Simper every in

stant.

Betty. Yes, madam.

Mrs. Circ. Put the fruit and the wine on the table in the next room.

Betty. Very well, madam.

Mrs. Circ. And, Betty, order the fellow to let nobody in but sir Luke.

Betty. Madam, I shall take care. [Exit. Mrs. Circ. [sits down.] The ballot must be over by this time. Sure there is nothing so dreadful as a state of suspence: but should they blackball me!-No, there's no danger of that; miss Mattadore has insured me success.-Well, this is certainly one of the most useful institutions; it positively supplies the only point of time one does not know how to employ. From twelve, the hour of one's rising, to dinner, is a most horrible chasm; for though teizing the mercers and milliners by tumbling their wares, is now and then an entertaining amusement, yet upon repetition it palls.-But every morning to be sure of a party, and then again at night after a rout, to have a place to retire to; to be quite freed from all pain of providing; not to be pester'd at table with the odious company of clients, and country cousins; for I am determined to dine, and sup at the club, every day.