"Irwin," said a large gouty man, whose legs were wrapped in flannel, "of course you've heard of Sir William's method of dispensing justice. Will that too, sir, find its own remedy--eh? ha, ha, ha; d------e, it's the most novel thing going."
"No--how is it, Anderson?"
"Why, if two neighbors chance to fall out, or have a quarrel, and if it happens also that they come to take the law of one another, as they call it, what does the worthy baronet do, do you imagine? 'Well, my good fellow,' proceeds our justice, 'you want to take the law of this man?'
"'Yes, your honor.'
"'And you want to take the law of him,' addressing the other.
"'I do, the rascal.'
"'Very well, my good friends, if you wish to get law you have come to the wrong shop for it--we deal in nothing but justice here: so if you prefer justice to law, you shall have it.'
"'Whichever your honor thinks is best for us.'
"'Very well, then; are you able to fight this man?'
"'Ha, ha, is it there you are, Sir William?' says the fellow, brightening, 'able is it! ay, and willing too.'
"'And,' says the baronet, addressing the other again, 'are you a match for him, do you think?'
"'Say no more, Sir William; only it was surely the Lord put the words into your mouth.'
"'But,' proceeds Sir W., 'mark me, if you don't both abide by this battle--if either of you, no matter which is beaten, shall attempt to get law elsewhere, upon my honor and soul, I will prosecute you both.'
The justice being well furnished with a sheaf of cudgels for the purpose, selects one for each, brings them quietly to the stable yard where he lets them fight it out, each having first solemnly promised to abide the result."
"Is that true, baronet?"
"Perfectly true," replied Sir William; "but I fear that like some of your wise and impartial proceedings here, it will soon work its own cure. The business has increased so damnably--this dispensation of justice I mean--on my hands, that my stable yard resembles a fives court rather than anything else I know. The method harmonizes with their habits so beautifully, that if there is an angry word between them it is only 'd--n you, are you for Sir W.?' 'Yes, you villain step out.' They accordingly come, and as they touch their hats, I ask, well, my good fellows, what do you want now? 'Not law Sir William, but justice--the cudgels, plase your honor.' In the beginning I was in the habit of making them relate the cause of quarrel first, and then fight it out afterwards, but experience soon taught me that all this was a mere waste of time. In general now, I pass all that by; the complainants have their comfortable fight, as they say, and go home perfectly satisfied."
"Here, you secretary, what the devil are you at there? Why d-----e, it wasn't to toss half crowns with that rascal of a treasurer you came here, sir; let us get through the business, and then you may both toss off to the devil, where you'll go at last."
"Why," said the secretary, "I placed the papers all arranged in proper order before you."
"Yes, sir; I suppose you did; but who the devil can keep anything or anybody in order, in such a Babel as this? Beevor, I'll thank you to postpone the singing of your squib for the election; or take to the street when our business is over, and give it to the crowd."
"You be d----d, Spavin," replied Beevor;
"I'll finish it, if the devil was at the back door."
"Darcy," said Deaker, addressing a thin, red-faced man beside him, "I saw a pretty bit of goods in Castle Cumber market on Thursday."
"Why, Deaker," replied the other, "is it possible that with one foot and more than half your body in the grave, and your shadow in h--l, you sinner, you have not yet given up your profligacy."
"Eat, drink, and be merry, Tom, for tomorrow we die; but about this pretty bit of goods--I tried to price her, but it wouldn't do; and when I pressed hard, what do you think of the little tit, but put herself under the protection of old Priest Roche, and told him I had insulted her."
"Who is she, Deaker?" inquired a young fellow with a good deal of libertine interest.
"Ah, Bob," replied Deaker, laughing; "there you are, one of the holy triad. Here, Baronet--did you ever hear what Mad Jolly-block, their father, the drinking parson of Mount Carnal, as some one christened his residence, said of his three sons?--and that chap there's one of them."
"No; let us hear it."
"'Dan,' said the father, speaking of the eldest, 'would eat the devil; Jack,' the second, 'would drink the devil; and Bob, this chap here, 'would both eat and drink him, in the first, place, and outwit him afterwards.' That's Bob, the youngest--he there with a lip like a dropsical sausage. He has sent him here to pick up a little honesty, and much loyalty."
"And a great deal of morality," replied Bob, laughing, "from Deaker the virtuous."
"No, no," replied Deaker; "you need never leave your Reverend father's wing for that."
"Deaker, do you fleece the poor as much as ever?" replied Bob.
"Ah, you are another sweet Agent, as times go. Do you touch them at the renewals as usual?"
"Egad, Bob, I was very good at that; but there's an unmatrimonial son of mine, Val the Vulture, there, and d--me, when I look back upon my life, and compare it with his, it's enough to make me repent of my humanity, to think of the opportunities I have neglected."
"Gentlemen," observed Hartley, "it strikes me, no matter what the multiplicity of other virtues we possess, there is somehow nothing like a superabundance of shame among us; we appear to glory in our vices."
"Why confound it, Hartley," replied Deaker, "where's the use of assuming what we do not and cannot feel? Would you have me preach honesty, who am as d----d a rogue as there is here? Indeed, with the exception of that whelp of mine, I believe the greatest--but that fellow's my master."
"Nobody can quarrel with your candor, Deaker, because it's all at your own expense," said the treasurer.
"Egad, and here it is at yours, Gilburne; with the exception always of myself and my son, you are the deepest rogue here--and I am very much afraid that your securities will be of my opinion when it is too late."
He laughed heartily at this; and then, as usual, took to whistling his favorite tune of the Boyne Water.
Our readers may perceive that there was among them an open, hardy scorn not only of all shame, but of the very forms of common decency and self-respect. The feelings, the habits, the practices, the distribution of jobs and of jobbings, the exercise of petty authority, party spirit, and personal resentment, all went the same way, and took the same bent; because, in point of fact, there was in this little assembly of village tyrants, no such thing as an opposition--for three or four--were nothing--no balance of feeling--no division of opinion--and consequently no check upon the double profligacy of practice and principle, which went forward under circumstances where there existed a complete sense of security, and an utter absence of all responsibility.
"Gentlemen, we are losing a great deal of time unnecessarily," observed M'Clutchy, "let us first get through the business, and afterwards we will be more at leisure for this trifling. The bills for Harman are not yet found."
"Not found," replied Spavin, "why how soft you are, Val."
"Why they are not," reiterated Val.
"And why are they not?"
"Ask Counsellor Browbeater, the hard-faced barrister, that has the right of Black Trot in the Castle, and he will tell you."
"We all know that very well, Val, no thanks to your squeamishness,"
observed Deaker; "the truth is, he did not wish to let him out for a reason he has," he added, winking at the rest.
"Let us hear the calendar," said Hartley, "and got through the business as quickly as we can, secretary."
"Is that Browbeater," asked Sir William, "who was engaged in the spy system a little before I returned from England--a d----d scandalous transaction."
"The spy system, Sir William, is a very useful one to government,"
replied Val, "and they would be devilish fools if they did not encourage it."
"That may be your opinion, Mr. M'Clutchy," said Sir William, "and your practice, for aught I know; but, permit me to say, that it is not the opinion of a gentleman, a man of honor, nor of any honest man, however humble."
"I perfectly agree with you, Sir William," said Hartley, "and I despise the government which can stoop to such discreditable treachery, for it is nothing else. The government that could adopt such a tool as this Browbeater, would not scruple to violate the sanctity either of private life or public confidence, if it suited their interest--nay, I question whether they would not be guilty of a felony itself, and open the very letters in the post-office, which are placed there under the sacred seal of public faith. However, never mind; proceed with the calendar."