to fortune. He had no enlarged, no elevated notions, no catholic sentiments, no generous views; but he had in place of these a sagacious and worldly cunning, a penetration of character, and a ready wit. His maxims in life had all turned towards the culminating point, which was the day-star to his being, and the purpose, the mainspring of all action-the interest of Gideon Clincher. He had learnt to look upon his fellows as knaves and sharpers; ingenuousness he deemed humbug, honesty a vaunted profession, and the cardinal virtues of open-hearted goodness and real charity as the inane displays of cant and hypocrisy.

It is true his profession had revealed to him much of the dark side of humanity; but he was one of those men who delight to dwell on the shadows, and be blind to the sunshine; who have a morbid desire to make bad worse, and good less, and who remember not the prophetic injunction of "Woe unto them who make good evil, and evil good!" He had had to fight his way in the world, battle with difficulties, and endure privations; he

had known no luxury, had no assistance, and in his intercourse with his species, such refined notions as he might once have possessed, had been deadened or destroyed, and there had been created within him a

deep-rooted suspicion, a very dubiousness which warped all aspirations into the petty thought of self-preservation. Such a moral confirmation, it is true, might conduct to prosperity in the every-day affairs of life; and many, as well as he, pursuing those qualities may pass for men of talent and capacity, if not of respect and of probity. Mankind judge too frequently of each other from superficial characteristics, rather than from deeper traits, and often receive credit for qualities which they never have possessed.

In person Clincher was rather short than otherwise, and though inclined to obesity, he was not so corpulent as to be inactive; indeed, although on the shady side of sixty-five, his agility and sprightliness rendered him equal to those who were his juniors by many sumHis complexion was clear and fresh, and there was on his cheek that crisp, frost

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bitten, ruddy tinge, which told of health and vigour, and which betokened a green old age. His wide, but not high forehead, bushy eyebrows, deep-set, twinkling, hazel orbs, where a merry drollery was wont to riot, huge square chin, and mobile lips, with slightly depressed and elongated angles of the mouth, pronounced a character of shrewdness and decision. His attire was professional black and if his wardrobe did not give evidence of frequent replenishment, he was ever neat and orderly. He usually appeared in buckle shoes and powdered peruke, nor could any argument induce him to adopt the fashion about that time introduced by the Duke of Orleans, to discard the use of hair powder and pantaloons. He had a reverence for old customs, and his apology for this was the fact of sixty-five.

The chambers occupied by Mr. Clincher, and which had during forty years formed the theatre of his professional performances, were cheerless, dusty, sombre, heart-achy rooms, looking upon nothing, towards nothingnowhere save dingy walls, a wilderness of

chimneys, and volumes of overhanging smoke. There was a dreariness in the prospect which to a constant occupant must have been tediously dull. Two apartments constituted the suite; the first, or that into which you immediately entered, was a comfortless room, containing two or three desks, one of which was surrounded by a kind of wooden fence, surmounted by a low railing, and giving the partitioned part the appearance of a roofless coop or cage. The desks were littered over with parchments and papers, two or three fat-sided ledgers and day-books, with here and there an antiquated volume, containing prolix acts and monotonous statutes, the perusal of which was as dry as the mastication of saw-dust. An iron chest, a huge black oaken box, a long range of pigeonholes, alphabetically lettered, and possessing, in different degrees of plenitude, bundles of discoloured documents, on which an antiquarian's eye might have gloated; one or two high stools, and as many aged chairs, together with some square tin boxes, placed on a shelf which appeared adapted for bis

cuits, but which, doubtless, preserved things less easily digested than even hard captains -these were the chief articles in the way of fixtures and furniture in this legal eyrie. A faded green blind pretended to exclude the sun, as if the sun's rays ever penetrated those opaque and dirty panes !-And then there were thick iron stanchions, which added to the solemn aspect within making all gloomier still.

On one of the aforesaid iron stools sat a dyspeptic, dried-up looking little man, with aquiline nose, large eyes, scanty greyish whiskers, and very bristly head of hair to match. He wore a pair of thick-rimmed silver spectacles, and immediately on entering just so much as already described could be imperfectly seen, as he peered his keen visage through the railings of his cage. This was Gabriel Gubbins, or Mr. Gabriel Gubbins, as he appellated himself, the clerk, scribe, or factotum, of the aforesaid Gideon Clincher. On approximation, the sharp features of this little man, his searching glance, volubility of expression, and energy of action, at once indicated that even in that sombre