"Laselato ogni speranza, voi ch' intrate!"
JOHN BULL _v._ THE PEEL PLACE-HUNTING COMPANY.
MR. JOBTICKLER said he had to move in this cause for an injunction to
restrain the Peel Place-hunting Company from entering into possession of
the estates of plaintiff. It appeared from the affidavits on which he
moved, that the defendants, though not in actual possession, laid an
equitable claim to the fee simple of the large estates rightfully belonging
to the plaintiff, over which they were about to exercise sovereign
dominion. They had entered into private treaty with the blind old man who
held the post of chief law-grubber of the Exchequer, offering him a bribe
to pretend illness, and take half his present pay, in order to fasten one
of the young and long-lived leeches--one Sir Frederick Smal-luck--to the
vacant bench. They were about to compel a decentish sort of man, who did
the business of Chancery as well as such business can be done under the
present system, to retire upon half allowance, in order to make room for
one Sir William Fullhat, who had no objection to £14,000 a year and a
peerage. They were about to fill two sub-chancellorships, which they would
not on any account allow the company in the present actual possession of
the estates to fill up with a couple of their own shareholders; and were,
in fine, proceeding to dispose of, by open sale, and by private contract,
the freehold, leasehold, and funded property of plaintiff, to the
incalculable danger of the estate, and to the disregard of decency and
justice. What rendered this assumption and exercise of power the more
intolerable, was, that the persons the most unfit were selected; and as if,
it would appear, from a "hateful love of contraries," the man learned in
law being sent to preside over the business of equity, of which he knew
nothing, and the man learned in equity being entrusted with the direction
of law of which he knew worse than nothing; being obliged to unlearn all he
had previously learnt, before he began to learn his new craft.
LORD HIGH INQUISITOR.--Don't you know, sir, that _poeta nascitur non fit?_
Is not a judge a judge the moment he applies himself to the seat of
justice?
MR. JOBTICKLER.--Most undoubtedly it is so, my lord, as your lordship is a
glorious example, but--
LORD HIGH INQUISITOR.--But me no buts, sir. I'll have no allusions made to
my person. What way are the cases on the point you would press on the
court?
MR. JOBTICKLER.--The cases, I am sorry to say, are all in favour of the
Peel Place-hunting Company's proceedings; but the principle, my lord, the
principle!
LORD HIGH INQUISITOR.--Principle! What has principle to do with law, Sir?
Really the bar is losing all reverence for authority, all regard for
consistency. I must put a stop to such revolutionary tendencies on the part
of gentlemen who practise in my court. Sit down, sir.
MR. JOBTICKLER.--May my client have the injunction?
LORD HIGH INQUISITOR.--No-o-o-o! But he shall pay all the costs, and I only
wish I could double them for his impertinence. You, sir, you deserve to be
stripped of your gown for insulting the ears of the court with such a
motion.
CRIER.--Any more appeals, causes, or motions, in the Supreme Court of the
Lord High Inquisitor Punch, to-day? (A dead silence.)
LORD HIGH INQUISITOR (bowing gracefully to the bar).--Good morning,
gentlemen. You behold how carefully we fulfil the letter of Magna Charta.
"Nulli vendemus, nulli negabimus, aut differemus rectum vel
justitiam." [_Exit._]
CRIER.--This Court will sit the next time it is the Lord High Inquisitor's
pleasure that it should sit, and at no other period or time.--God save the
Queen!
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AN AN-TEA ANACREONTIC.--No. 3.
[Greek: EIS LYRAN.]
Apollo! ere the adverse fates
Gave thy lyre to Mr. Yates[2],
I have melted at thy strain
When Bunn reign'd o'er Drury-lane;
For the music of thy strings
Haunts the ear when Romer sings.
But to me _that_ voice is mute!
Tuneless kettle-drum and flute
I but hear _one_ liquid lyre--
Kettle bubbling on the fire,
Whizzing, fizzing, steaming out
Music from its curved spot,
Wak'ning visions by its song
Of thy nut-brown streams, Souchong;
Lumps of crystal saccharine--
Liquid pearl distill'd from kine;
Nymphs whose gentle voices mingle
With the silver tea-spoons' jingle!
Symposiarch I o'er all preside,
The Pidding of the fragrant tide.
Such the dreams that fancy brings,
When my tuneful kettle sings!
[2] This celebrated instrument now crowns the chaste yet elaborate
front of the Adelphi Theatre, where full-length effigies of Mr.
and Mrs. Yates may be seen silently inviting the public to walk
in.
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