"I shall leave t.i.tmouse entirely--_entirely_, Mr. Quirk, in your hands; I will have nothing henceforth whatever to do with him. I am quite sick of him and his concerns already; I cannot bring myself to undertake such an affair, and that was what I was thinking of,--when"----

"Eh? indeed! Well, to be sure! Only think!" said Quirk, dropping his voice, looking to see that the two doors were shut, and resuming the chair which he had lately quitted, "What do you think has been occurring to _me_ in my own room, just now? Whether it would suit us better to throw this monkey overboard, put ourselves confidentially in communication with the party in possession, and tell him that--hem!--for a--eh? You understand--eh? a con-si-de-ra-tion--a _suitable_ con-si-de-ra-tion!"

"Mr. Quirk! Heavens!" Gammon was really amazed.

"Well? You needn't open your eyes so very wide, Mr. Gammon--why shouldn't it be done? You know we wouldn't be satisfied with a trifle, of course. But suppose he'd agreed to buy our silence with four or five thousand pounds, really, it's well worth considering! Upon my soul, Gammon, it _is_ a hard thing on him when one makes the case one's own!--no fault of his, and it is very hard for him to turn out, and for such a--eugh!--such a wretch as t.i.tmouse; you'd feel it yourself, Gammon, if you were in his place, and I'm sure you'd think that four or five thous"----

"But is not t.i.tmouse our POOR NEIGHBOR?" said Gammon, with a sly smile.

"Why, _that's_ only one way of looking at it, Gammon! Perhaps the man we are going to eject does a vast deal of good with the property; certainly he bears a very high name in the county--and fancy t.i.tmouse with ten thousand a-year!"----

"Mr. Quirk, Mr. Quirk, it's not to be thought of for a moment--not for a moment," interrupted Gammon, seriously, and even somewhat peremptorily--"nothing should persuade _me_ to be any party to such"----

At this moment Snap burst into the room with a heated appearance, and a chagrined air----

"_Pitch_ v. _Grub_----" he commenced breathlessly--

[This was a little pet action of poor Snap's: it was for slander uttered by the defendant (an hostler) against the plaintiff, (a waterman on a coach stand,) charging the plaintiff with having _the mange_, on account of which a woman refused to marry him.]

"Pitch v. Grub--just been tried at Guildhall. Witness bang up to the mark--words and special damage proved; slapping speech from Sergeant Shout. Verdict for plaintiff--but only one farthing damages; and Lord Widdrington said, as the jury had given one farthing for damages, _he_ would give him another for costs,[10] and that would make a halfpenny; on which the defendant's attorney tendered me--a halfpenny on the spot.

Laughter in court--move for new trial first day of next term, and tip his lordship a rattler in the next Sunday's _Flash_!"

"Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, sternly, "once for all, if this sort of low business is to go on, I'll leave the firm, come what will!" [It flickered across his mind that t.i.tmouse would be a capital client to start with on his own account.] "I protest our names will quite stink in the profession."

"Good, Mr. Gammon, good!" interposed Snap, warmly; "your little action for the usury penalties the other day came off so uncommon well! the judge's compliment to you was _so_ nice"----

"Let me tell you, Mr. Snap," interrupted Gammon, reddening----

"Pho! Come! Can't be helped--fortune of the war,"--interrupted the head of the firm,--"there's only one thing to be looked to,--_Is Pitch solvent?_--of course we've security for costs out of pocket--eh, Snap?"

Now the fact was, that poor Snap had picked up Pitch at one of the police offices, and, in his zeal for business, had undertaken his case on pure speculation, relying on the apparent strength of the plaintiff's case--Pitch being only a waterman attached to a coach stand. When, therefore, the very ominous question of Mr. Quirk met Snap's ear, he suddenly happened (at least, he chose to appear to think so) to hear himself called for from the clerk's room, and bolted out of Mr. Gammon's room rather unceremoniously.

"Snap will be the ruin of the firm, Mr. Quirk," said Gammon, with an air of disgust. "But I really must get on with the brief I'm drawing; so, Mr. Quirk, we can talk about t.i.tmouse to-morrow!"

The brief he was drawing up was for a defendant who was going to nonsuit the plaintiff, (a man with a large family, who had kindly lent the defendant a considerable sum of money,) solely because of the _want of a stamp_.

Quirk differed in opinion with Gammon, and, as he resumed his seat at his desk, he could not help writing the words, "_Quirk and Snap_," and thinking how well such a firm would sound and work--for Snap was verily a chip of the old block!

There will probably never be wanting those who will join in abusing and ridiculing attorneys and solicitors. Why? In almost every action at law, or suit in equity, or proceeding which may, or may not, lead to one, each client conceives a natural dislike for his opponent's attorney or solicitor. _If the plaintiff succeeds_, he hates the defendant's attorney for putting him (the said plaintiff) to so much expense, and causing him so much vexation and danger; and, when he comes to settle with his own attorney, there is not a little heart-burning in looking at his bill of costs, however reasonable. _If the plaintiff fails_, of course it is through the ignorance and unskilfulness of his attorney or solicitor! and he hates almost equally his own, and his opponent's attorney!--Precisely so is it with a successful or unsuccessful _defendant_. In fact, an attorney or solicitor is almost always obliged to be acting _adversely to some one_ of whom he at once makes an enemy; for an attorney's weapons must necessarily be pointed almost invariably at our pockets! He is necessarily, also, called into action in cases when all the worst pa.s.sions of our nature--our hatred and revenge, and our self-interest--are set in motion. Consider the mischief which might be constantly done on a grand scale in society, if the vast majority of attorneys and solicitors were not honorable, and able men! Conceive them, for a moment, disposed everywhere to stir up litigation, by availing themselves of their perfect acquaintance with almost all men's circ.u.mstances--artfully inflaming irritable and vindictive clients, kindling, instead of stifling, family dissensions, and fomenting public strife--why, were they to do only a hundredth part of what it is thus in their power to do, our courts of justice would soon be doubled, together with the number of our judges, counsel, and attorneys; new jails must be built to hold the ruined litigants--and the insolvent court enlarged, and in constant session throughout the year.

But not _all_ of this body of honorable and valuable men are ent.i.tled to this tribute of praise. There are a few QUIRKS, several GAMMONS, and many SNAPS, in the profession of the law--men whose characters and doings often make fools visit the sins of individuals upon the whole species; nay, there are far worse, as I have heard--but I must return to my narrative.

On Friday night, the 28th July 18--, the state of Mr. t.i.tmouse's affairs was this; he owed his landlady 1, 9s.; his washerwoman, 6s.; his tailor, 1, 8s.--in all, three guineas; besides 10s. to Huckaback, (for t.i.ttlebat's notion was, that on repayment at any time of 10s., Huckaback would be bound to deliver up to him the doc.u.ment or voucher which he had given that gentleman,) and a weekly accruing rent of 7s. to his landlady, besides some very small sums for coffee, (alias chiccory,) tea, bread, and b.u.t.ter, &c. To meet these serious liabilities, he had literally--_not one farthing_.

On returning to his lodgings that night, he found a line from Thumbscrew, his landlady's broker, informing him that, unless by ten o'clock on the next morning his arrears of rent were paid, he should distrain, and she would also give him notice to quit at the end of the week; that nothing could induce her to give him further time. He sat down in dismay on reading this threatening doc.u.ment; and, in sitting down, his eye fell on a bit of paper lying on the floor, which must have been thrust under the door. From the marks on it, it was evident that he must have trod upon it in entering. It proved to be a summons from the Court of Requests, for 1, 8s. due to Job c.o.x, his tailor. He deposited it mechanically on the table; and for a minute he dared hardly breathe.

This seemed something really like a _crisis_.

After a silent agony of half an hour's duration, he rose trembling from his chair, blew out his candle, and, in a few minutes' time, might have been seen standing with a pale and troubled face before the window of old b.a.l.l.s, the p.a.w.nbroker, peering through the suspended articles--watches, sugar-tongs, rings, brooches, spoons, pins, bracelets, knives and forks, seals, chains, &c.--to see whether any one else than old b.a.l.l.s were within. Having at length watched out a very pale and wretched-looking woman, t.i.tmouse entered to take her place; and after interchanging a few faltering words with the white-haired and hard-hearted old p.a.w.nbroker, produced his guard-chain, his breast-pin, and his ring, and obtained three pounds two shillings and sixpence on the security of them.

With this sum he slunk out of the shop, and calling on c.o.x, his tailor, paid his trembling old creditor the full amount of his claim (1, 8s.) together with 4s., the expense of the summons--simply asking for a receipt, without uttering another word, for he felt almost choked. In the same way he dealt with Mrs. Squallop, his landlady--not uttering one word in reply to her profuse and voluble apologies, but pressing his lips between his teeth till the blood came from them, while his little heart seemed splitting within him. Then he walked up-stairs, with a desperate air--having just eighteen pence in his pocket--_all his ornaments gone_--his washerwoman yet unpaid--his rent going on--several other little matters unsettled; and the 10th of August approaching, when he expected to be dismissed penniless from Mr. Tag-rag's and thrown on his own resources for subsistence. When he had regained his room, and having shut the door, had re-seated himself at his table, he felt for a moment as if he could have yelled. Starvation and Despair, two fiends, seemed sitting beside him in shadowy ghastliness, chilling and palsying him--petrifying his heart within him. WHAT WAS HE TO DO? Why had he been born? Why was he so much more persecuted and miserable than any one else? Visions of his ring, his breast-pin, his studs, stuck in a bit of card, with their price written above them, and hanging exposed to his view in old b.a.l.l.s' window, almost frenzied him. Thoughts such as these at length began to suggest others of a dreadful nature.... The means were at that instant within his reach.... A sharp knock at the door startled him out of the stupor into which he was sinking. He listened for a moment as if he were not certain that the sound was a real one.

There seemed a ton-weight upon his heart, which a mighty sigh could lift for an instant, but not remove; and he was in the act of heaving a second such sigh, as he languidly opened the door--expecting to encounter Mr. Thumbscrew, or some of his myrmidons, who might not know of his recent settlement with his landlady.

"Is this Mr.--t.i.t--t.i.tmouse's?" inquired a genteel-looking young man.

"Yes," replied t.i.tmouse, sadly.

"Are you Mr. t.i.tmouse?"

"Yes," he replied, more faintly than before.

"Oh--I have brought you, sir, a letter from Mr. Gammon, of the firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, solicitors, Saffron Hill," said the stranger, unconscious that his words shot a flash of light into a little abyss of grief and despair before him. "He begged me to give this letter into your own hands, and said he hoped you'd send him an answer by the first morning's post."

"Yes--oh--I see--certainly--to be sure--with pleasure--how is Mr.

Gammon?--uncommon kind of him--very humble respects to him--take care to answer it," stammered t.i.tmouse, in a breath, hardly knowing whether he were standing on his head or his heels, and not quite certain where he was.

"Good-evening, sir," replied the stranger, evidently a little surprised at t.i.tmouse's manner, and withdrew. t.i.tmouse shut his door. With prodigious trepidation of hand and flutter of spirits, he opened the letter--an enclosure meeting his eyes in the shape of a bank-note.

"Oh Lord!" he murmured, turning white as the sheet of paper he held.

Then the letter dropped from his hand, and he stood as if stupefied for some moments; but presently rapture darted through him; a five-pound bank-note was in his hand, and it had been enclosed in the following letter:--

"_35, Thavies' Inn, 29th July 18--._

"MY DEAR MR. t.i.tMOUSE,

"Your last note addressed to our firm, has given me the greatest pain, and I hasten, on my return from the country, to forward you the enclosed trifle, out of my own personal resources--and I sincerely hope it will be of temporary service to you. May I beg the favor of your company on Sunday evening next, at seven o'clock, to take a gla.s.s of wine with me? I shall be quite alone and disengaged, and may have it in my power to make you some important communications, concerning matters in which, I a.s.sure you, I feel a very deep interest on your account. Begging the favor of an early answer to-morrow morning, I trust you will believe me, ever, my dear sir, your most faithful humble servant, "OILY GAMMON.

"t.i.tTLEBAT t.i.tMOUSE, ESQ."

The first balmy drop of the long-expected golden shower had at length fallen upon the panting t.i.tmouse. How polite--nay, how affectionate and respectful--was the note of Mr. Gammon! and, for the first time in his life, he saw himself addressed

"t.i.tTLEBAT t.i.tMOUSE, ESQUIRE."

If his room had been large enough to admit of it, he would have skipped round it again and again in his frantic ecstasy. Having read over several times the blessed letter of Mr. Gammon, he hastily folded it up, crumpled up the bank-note in his hand, clapped his hat on his head, blew out his candle, rushed down-stairs as if a mad dog were at his heels, and in three or four minutes' time might have been seen standing breathless before old b.a.l.l.s, whom he had almost electrified by asking, with an eager and joyous air, for a return of the articles which he had only an hour before p.a.w.ned with him; at the same time laying down the duplicates and the bank-note. The latter, old b.a.l.l.s scrutinized with most anxious exactness, and even suspicion--but it seemed perfectly unexceptionable; so he re-delivered to t.i.tmouse his precious ornaments, and the change out of his note, _minus_ a trifling sum for interest.

t.i.tmouse then started off at top speed to Huckaback; but it suddenly occurring to him as possible that that gentleman, on hearing of his good fortune, might look for an immediate repayment of the ten shillings he had recently lent to t.i.tmouse, he stopped short--paused--and returned home. There he had hardly been seated a moment, when down he pelted again, to buy a sheet of paper and a wafer or two, to write his letter to Mr. Gammon; which having obtained, he returned at the same speed, almost overturning his fat landlady, who looked after him as though he were a mad cat scampering up and down-stairs, and fearing that he had gone suddenly crazy. The note he wrote to Mr. Gammon was so exceedingly extravagant, that, candid as I have (I trust) hitherto shown myself in the delineation of Mr.

t.i.tmouse's character, I cannot bring myself to give the aforesaid letter to the reader--making all allowances for the extraordinary excitement of its writer.

Sleep, that night and morning, found and left Mr. t.i.tmouse the a.s.sured exulting master of TEN THOUSAND A-YEAR. Of this fact, the oftener he read Mr. Gammon's letter, the stronger became his convictions. 'Twas undoubtedly rather a large inference from small premises; but it secured him unspeakable happiness, _for a time_, at a possible cost of future disappointment and misery, which he did not pause to consider. The fact is that logic (according to Dr. Watts, but not according to Dr.

Whateley, _the right use of reason_) is not a practical art. No one regards it in actual life; observe, therefore, folks on all hands constantly acting like t.i.ttlebat t.i.tmouse in the case before us. His _conclusion_ was--that he had become the certain master of ten thousand a-year; his _premises_ were--what the reader has seen. I do not, however, mean to say, that if the reader be a youth hot from Oxford, he may not be able to prove, by a very refined and ingenious argument, that t.i.tmouse was, in what he did above, a fine natural logician; for I recollect that some great philosopher hath demonstrated, by a famous argument, that there is NOTHING ANYWHERE: and no one that I have heard of, hath ever been able to prove the contrary.

By six o'clock the next morning, t.i.tmouse had, with his own hand, dropped his answer into the letter-box upon the door of Mr. Gammon's chambers in Thavies' Inn; in which answer he had, with numerous expressions of profound respect and grat.i.tude, accepted Mr. Gammon's polite invitation. A very happy man felt t.i.tmouse as he returned to Oxford Street; entering Messrs. Tag-rag's premises with alacrity, just as they were being opened, and volunteering his a.s.sistance in numerous things beyond his usual province, with singular briskness and energy; as if conscious that by doing so he was greatly gratifying Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, whose wishes upon the subject he knew. He displayed such unwonted cheerfulness and patient good-nature throughout the day, that one of his companions, a serious youth, in a white neckerchief, black clothes, and with a blessed countenance--the only professing pious person in the establishment--took an occasion to ask him, in a mysterious whisper, "whether he had not got _converted_:" and whether he would, at six o'clock in the morning, accompany the speaker to a room in the neighborhood, where he (the youth aforesaid) was going to conduct an exhortation and prayer meeting! t.i.tmouse refused--but not without a few qualms; for luck certainly seemed to be smiling on him, and he felt that he ought to be grateful for it; but then, he at length reflected, the proper place for that sort of thing would be a regular _church_--to which he accordingly resolved to go. This change of manners Tag-rag, however, looked upon as a.s.sumed only to affront _him_; seeing nothing but impertinence and defiance in all that t.i.tmouse did--as if the nearer t.i.tmouse got to the end of his bondage--_i. e._ the 10th of August--the lighter-hearted he grew! t.i.tmouse resolved religiously to keep his own counsel; to avoid even--at all events for the present--communicating with Huckaback.

On the ensuing Sunday he rose very early, and took nearly twice as long a time as usual to dress--by reason of his often falling into many delicious and momentarily intoxicating reveries. By eleven o'clock he might have been seen entering the gallery of St. Andrew's Church, Holborn; where he considered that doubtless Mr. Gammon, who lived in the neighborhood, might have a seat. He asked three or four pew-openers, both below and above stairs, if they knew which was Mr. Gammon's pew--Mr. Gammon of Thavies' Inn; not dreaming of presumptuously going to the pew, but of sitting in some place which commanded a view of it. Mr.

Gammon, I need hardly say, was quite unknown there--no one had ever heard of such a person; nevertheless t.i.tmouse, (albeit a little galled at being, in spite of his elegant appearance, slipped into a back seat in the gallery,) remained to the close of the service--but his thoughts wandered grievously the whole time. Having quitted the church in a buoyant humor, he sauntered in the direction of Hyde Park. How soon might he become, instead of a mere spectator as heretofore, a partaker in its glories! The dawn of the day of fortune was on his long-benighted soul; and he could hardly subdue his excited feelings. Having eaten nothing but a couple of biscuits during the day, as the clock struck seven he made his punctual appearance at Mr. Gammon's, with a pair of span-new white kid gloves on; and somewhat flurried, was speedily ushered, by a comfortable-looking elderly female servant, into Mr.

Gammon's room. Mr. t.i.tmouse was dressed just as he had been when first presented to the reader, sallying forth into Oxford Street. Mr. Gammon, who was sitting reading the _Sunday Flash_ at a table on which stood a couple of decanters, several wine-gla.s.ses, and one or two dishes of fruit, rose and received his distinguished visitor with the most delightful affability.

"I am most happy, Mr. t.i.tmouse, to see you in this friendly way," said he, shaking him cordially by the hand.