Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 044.djvu/802

784 Very well put, and many the man that has been posed in his philippics, when he has been indiscreet enough to ask a question, by as simple a reply. But our author is a master of his weapon the scholar armed. So he conjures up satire again to graduate offences. A. " And so shall Satire graduate each offence, Nor treat Pretension as she treats Pretence ; Shall merely smile to mark the smaller spot, But justly frowns indignant on the blot. She smiles when Balaam quits his old resort, And City-friends, to leave his card at Court ; And smiles to see the new-bought blazonry Far flaming from his chariot flashing by. She frowns on knavish show, that yet awhile Tricks out some tottering credit, to beguile, Then bursts, at once, in ruin, wide and deep, Whence orphans pine and widowed mothers weep. She frowns on seals to broken contracts set, And the long file that glooms the last Gazette, Which honest Gripus reads with clenching fist, Then sends his own pure name to swell the list. She frowns on hollow scheme, on puffed-up share, And that late gulf, fraud-scooped, in Gresham's Square (The ravening Southsea flowed iiot more profound, A gulf, not greedier, cleft Rome's forum ground), Round which in gamester strife, all England stood, City and Court and all for England's good ! Nor closed we saw it, till those jaws between Pride, Conscience, Honour, all were tumbled in : All ! for the chance some lucky hit affords To strut a Croesus, and to herd with lords." These are stinging 1 lines but for such a field, where facts are so redun- dant, do we not regret that they are too general ; why not, in individual cases, drag forth the man by the throat, and bid the villain stand for his pic- ture? The satirist, if his own pure feet tread not in the miry by-ways of traffic, where the air is so thick that Diogenes's lanthorn would not keep its light, and if it did would be of no use make no discovery let the sa- tirist, we say, go ask the first solici- tor he meets for a case to vent his spleen on. Oh! what an exposition of wickedness would there be if a truth- telling attorney would have the bold- ness and strength to give the world his diary. We will imagine an ex- tract, yet is it no imagination a sketch from nature we took it from the port- folio of a friend in the law, an eyewit- ness. Scene. The sick-room of old Lbvegold He is pillowed up in bed, very weak, with a look of anxiety and apprehension. Enter lawyer M., who is beckoned to a chair by the bedside, close to which he finds a table, and pen ink and paper. The nurse quits the room. When thus old Lovegold, in broken sentences, and with a ghastly stare, affecting at the same time a smile or rather grin of unbelief. " They tell me, Lawyer M., that I'm in a bad way, and had better settle my worldly affairs they mean, make my will, you know don't believe but that I shall get about again, and it's very awkward to be ill just now that I've much to do, a world of business on my hands at this very time. But shan't die the sooner for making my will, so I've sent for you." Well, instructions are given Lawyer M. retires makes the will is reintroduced to the sick man, witnesses procured and the will is regularly attested. Lovegold and his lawyer are left alone. The solicitor is desired to recapitulate, and goes through, clause by clause, the several bequests, and enumerates the large amount of property. The sick man looks at the lawyer significantly, as taking a pride in the amount of wealth he had amassed. " You have acquired," said Mr M., " a very large property, sir." The sick man made an effort and raised himself up in bed, and spoke with increasing energy as follows, " Yes, yes thank God I've done pretty well, pretty well hey 1 yes ; and hw do you think I've made