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expense of suits for small debts be leesened, but that object will be attained without the erection of new-fangled Courts, which can never arrive at the dignity, nor be regarded with the same respect and confidence, as the ancient and well-known tribunals. A variety of other improvements might be proposed, but I abstain, lest by attempting too much, every thing should be lost. My object is not to root out our ancient forms, but to reduce them gradually within narrower bounds.

I anticipate objections to this scheme from the attornies, who will oppose whatever is calculated to lessen their profits; but all the other proposals upon this subject are liable to far greater objections... they take the power away from the attornies altogether, I would reduce their trouble and their fees; but in my calculations I have proceeded upon the principle of allowing the attorney a remuneration for his decreased trouble, founded upon the present rate of charge. I would not have the attorney paid for services he does not perform : for what he does perform, let him be paid after the present ratio. Decreased performance calls for decreased payment; and I much doubt whether the attornies would not in the end be gainers. Many more persons would sue for small debts if the expense of their recovery were not so great. The necessity of some alterations in the recovery of small debts seems pretty generally admitted: few can be milder---less calculated to do injury, or introduce less innovation, than this. Its very simplicity will, I make no doubt, be an objection to those who seem to imagine nothing can be good which does not overturn our ancient policy; but I hope some persons may be found of a different opinion; and, Sir, I should receive lasting gratification if I could think I had stated any thing which meets with your approval. I confess myself deficient in that chivalrous feeling which prompts men to attack established institutions, and new-model governments; but I would not willingly imagine myself an enemy to improvement, or think it less likely to ensue because it is not proposed to be brought about by magic or harlequinade.

Allow me, Sir, to express the high admiration I feel for the talent you have displayed in your various and masterly alterations of the law; and to conclude with a fervent hope that England may long---very long, have the assistance of one whom after ages will place amongst her greatest benefactors.

Amicus Legis.

EPIGRAM.
In reply to one who asked if C. B. was a spendthrift.
" A spendthrift! Sir, he keeps"_“ Enough”---“ Nay, hold !
“ I do not mean a mistress, but---his gold.".--

“ GOD SAVE THE KING." Mr. OLDBUCK,- In page 288 you have stated, that Henry Carey was the author of the song, or rather anthem, of s God save the King;" but a few facts, will, I think, disprove his title*. It was stated by his son, G. S. Carey, that his father brought it forward in 1745 of 1746.; but it happens Henry Carey died in 1743; how is this? Mr. Clark has, by means of the Merchant Tailors' Records, traced the anthem back to the time of James I., and clearly proves it to have been written by Ben Jonson, that the music was composed by Dr. John Bullt, and that it was performed in the Hall of the Merchant Tailors Company, on occasion of the King dining with them shortly after the discovery of the powder plot, to which circumstances the words are very applicable.

In. Ward's Lives of the Professors of Gresham College, is a long account of MS. Music, composed by Dr, Bull, and amongst which is “ God save the King.” This was formerly in the library of Dr. Pepuschi, part of which he bequeathed to the Academy of Ancient Music, and the remainder (in which were Dr. Bull's MSS.) was sold partly by auction, and partly by private coutract.

Although the library of Dr. Pepusch amounted to two cart loads, yet no part of it is now to be met with; hence it is not improbable, that they were converted into mere waste-paper, and thus too frequently end the studies and labours of many great men, and thereby is put an end to research.”

The entertainment for his Majesty, it appears, was particularly splendid ; the invitation having been given by the company, to assure him of their loyalty and attachment. "Non nobis Domine” was also composed for the occasion; together with several sonnets, &c. whịch are now all lost, having been destroyed, either by their author, Ben Jonson, after he embraced the Catholic Faith, or by the great fire of 1666, when part of the Hall was consumed,

J. R. J. March 23, 1827.

A FATHER ON THE DEATH OF HIS CHILD.

AND hast thou faded, gentle flower,

Ere thy young hopes put forth their bloom,
Born to delight one little hour,

To bud---then wither in the tomb?
Life and its joys, unknown to thee,

Thou hast escap'e---its sorrows too.
Ah! they are felt alone by me,

Since thou art parted from my view!
Living a moment, like the note

of some soft, melancholy lyre ;
Sweet on the breeze 'tis heard to float,

To charm an instant, and expire! Y. Y. • See “ An account of the National Anthem of God save the King,' by R. Clark."

† Is not this, in some measure, corroborated by the proverbial saying, that " it is a regular John Bull tune ?" J. R. J.

1 See Clark, p. 78, and Sir John Hawkins's History of Music, vol. v, p. 204.

A VISIT TO THE ASSIZES. Those who frequent the Courts of Justice, and are often present at the trial of causes, soon become familiar with the various scenes which are presented upon such occasions; but to me, who never attend the Assizes, except when summoned upon a Jury, which does not occur oftener than once in three years, the appearance of a crowded Court, and the many, very many sights of joy and misery which a common observer cannot but notice in an Assize town, are all matters of high interest. Within the last week I have been present at many such scenes. Having a small freehold in our county, I was selected as a Special Juryman, and attended to try an important cause, but the trial having been postponed until the last, I was obliged to remain at two days longer than I expected. Not having any other business there, I used to stroll from one Court to the other, sometimes listening to the ciyil cases, and sometimes to the criminał, and not unfrequently I took my stand upon the steps leading to the Hall door, and there watched the various groupes around me. Upon the morning of the second day, I was standing at my usual place upon these steps, when my attention was particularly attracted towards some country people who were collected upon the pavement below. There were five of them; three men and two women. Of the latter, one dressed decently in a long red eloak, was crying very bitterly, her face hid in her handkerchief, and leant upon the arm of an elderly man, who stood firmly upright, his ruddy sun-burnt coun tenance fixed in an expression made up of sorrow, anger, and contempt, His hat seemed slouched over his face as if to prevent any one from recognizing him, but it was not sufficiently lařge to conceal either his dark fiery eye, or the long white hairs that fell down the side of his face. Immediately opposite to them stood a man and woman seemingly of lower rank in life, and of a very different cha, racter; the woman, who was dirty in the extreme, although with some few patches of finery about her dress, lolled carelessly, throwing her eyes around her in a manner which seemed to prove how far she was removed from anything like the sorrows which the other woman so strongly manifested. The man stood with his arms crossed, his hat placed just upon the top of his head, and his ill-looking ruffian. like countenance indicating something very like defiance. The remaining member of the group stood between the men, and from his appearance I concluded him to be an attorney's clerk. When I had observed them a few minutes, the latter member of the party left them, and made his way towards the Hall, the others remaining as before. “ Zounds !” exclaimed the rough-looking man, “ this is nothing of a scrape! I have been in many a worse 'un, and always got clear off. Haven't I, Poll?”

Poll nodded ber assent. “I don't know what you call a scrape then," said the old man; " is't no scrape to be made the gaze of all the town; to be printed in the calendar as a thief; to be brought from prison to Hall, and sent from Hall to ?" he paused, the word seemed to choke him. “Great God! that ever a son of mine should stand in the dock and hold up his hand as a felon! Nay, nay, woman," turning to his wife, who seemed bursting with grief, “ don't ye cry, now don't ye cry.” Tears rolled down the poor man's cheek as he spake, and his wife, for such I judged the woman leaning on his arm, sobbed bitterly. “Oh! there's no occasion for ye to take on so about'un; Poll and I'll swear as he was at home all night.”

“ What though you will ?" exclaimed the other man, raising himself, and speaking indignantly, “what though will? Think ye your oaths will be taken, ye who have been at every tread-mill in England, and whose neck has twenty times been within a yard of the gallows-rope? What good will your oaths do?"

" I don't see why my oath 'ant as good as any other man's," he answered blusteringly, as if seemingly inclined to quarrel.

“I do!” answered the old man: “ were I upon the Jury, I wouldn't believe one word you said. You swore to me the last time I saw you, that you knew nought of my lad, and at that very time Kale Cicely and him were in your house, and you knew it."

“ Pooh," answered he, “'I wan't going to give up my friend."

“ Your friend !" echoed the old man,“ how came he to be your friend? You decoyed him from me-you and that harlot Kate, and now you have placed him where you should be, to stand the brunt for you. Your friend !"

Ere the other had time to reply, their former companion joined them, and whispering to them, they all walked towards the Court House Jack Hasper, for that turned out to be the name of the ruffian-looking fellow, and the woman who was with him, walked on first; the old man and his wife followed slowly; I felt too great interest in what I had heard not to walk after them. The woman dried her eyes, and they proceeded towards the top of the steps. I perceived the old man become more and more feeble-step by step he moved slowly on-he reached the top—he approached the outer door of the Court-"I can go no further,” he remarked, “ I should die if I were to see him. Oh, God! oh, God! be merciful!” Poor man! he clasped his hands before his face, and fell forwards upon the door in the most dreadful agony. Tears poured down his cheeks, and his whole frame seemed convulsed. His wife, for a moment, forgot her own sorrow, in her anxiety for her husband; she led him gently towards the corner farthest from the door, through which the busy crowd were passing to and fro. He still held his hands before his face, and crept close to the wall, as if afraid that any one should

felt that my observance was intrusive, and therefore walked on into the Court, whispering to the woman as I passed, that if she needed any assistance she would find me near the door.

At the bar was a young man of rather simple, ingenuous appearance, and a woman considerably older, pretty looking, but evidently artful and designing. They were arraigned upon a charge of theft

committed in a dwelling house, and having pleaded “Not Guilty," the trial commenced. They were indicted as man and wife, and it appeared from the evidence that they had lived together as such. The theft had been committed in the night, about 12 o'clock: the things stolen were some silver spoons, some linen, and several culinary utensils; an apron belonging to Kate Cicely was found in the house which was robbed, and by its means all the stolen articles were traced several days afterwards to the residence of Jack Hasper, with whom Charles Mangrove and Kate Cicely were living. Hasper was immediately taken into custody, but Kate Cicely, in order to release him, laid an accusation against Charles Mangrove, and made a confession purporting that she and Charles had committed the robbery, and brought the articles to Hasper's house. Charles vehemently denied this to be true, and protested his ignorance of the whole matter; but he and his wife, for such Kate Cicely was considered to be, were, notwithstanding his protestation, committed to prison to take their trial. When placed at the bar, Charles Mangrove presented a most pitiable appearance, pale and emaciated, the consequence of irregular living, long confinement, and regret for his follies. He held down his head as if fearing to look around, lest he should recognise some one to whom he was known. His companion, on the contrary, stood up, bold and unabashed, and paid great attention to the evidence detailed against her.

As the trial proceeded, the evidence became rather in Charles Mangrove's favor, and every now and then he gave a hurried look upwards, but quickly relapsed into his former situation. At a time when he gave one of these glances, I happened to be looking at him, and perceived a woinan's face just appearing behind the dock; she seemed eagerly to catch every word that was uttered, and at the same time kept her eyes fixed upon him. It was his mother. As he looked round, their eyes met: she withdrew her face: he started, gazed a moment, and then with a heavy sigh, and a wildness of look I shall never forget, sunk down senseless in the dock. His mother heard him fall, and pushing forward, passed on before the jailor, who was about to assist him, and herself raised and supported him in her arms. She uttered a shriek at first, but all grief seemed to subside in her care of him. She pressed him to her bosom; some water was brought, she bathed his temples, and in a few moments he began to recover. ceedings had of course been suspended at this moment; and no sooner did he begin to shew signs of returning life, than the Judge interfered, remarking, that even if there were any evidence to convict Charles Mangrove, the indictment was informal, and must fail, but that he was of opinion no evidence had been given at all implicating him, but rather tending to shew that Kate and the master of the house, Jack Hasper, had been guilty of the theft. That being the case, the Jury must acquit both the prisoners. “Not Guilty," was immediately pronounced. The mother seemed bewildered. She kept a firm hold of her son, who had scarcely revived; the dock was unlocked; she looked first at Charles then at the jailor, the latter

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