WHICH SHOWS THERE ARE MORE WAYS TO KILL A DOG THAN HANGING.
Mr. Fillet no sooner appeared in the judgment-chamber of Justice Gobble, than Captain Crowe, seizing him by the hand, exclaimed, “Body o’ me! Doctor, thou’rt come up in the nick of time to lend us a hand in putting about.—We’re a little in the stays here—but howsomever we’ve got a good pilot, who knows the coast; and can weather the point, as the saying is. As for the enemy’s vessel1, she has had a shot or two already athwart her forefoot; the next, I do suppose, will strike the hull2, and then you will see her taken all a-back.” The doctor, who perfectly3 understood his dialect, assured him he might depend upon his assistance; and, advancing to the knight4, accosted5 him in these words: “Sir Launcelot Greaves, your most humble6 servant—when I saw a crowd at the door, I little thought of finding you within, treated with such indignity—yet I can’t help being pleased with an opportunity of proving the esteem7 and veneration8 I have for your person and character.—You will do me particular pleasure in commanding my best services.”
Our adventurer thanked him for this instance of his friendship, which he told him he would use without hesitation10; and desired he would procure11 immediate12 bail13 for him and his two friends, who had been imprisoned14 contrary to law, without any cause assigned.
During this short dialogue, the justice, who had heard of Sir Launcelot’s family and fortune, though an utter stranger to his person, was seized with such pangs15 of terror and compunction, as a grovelling16 mind may be supposed to have felt in such circumstances; and they seemed to produce the same unsavoury effects that are so humorously delineated by the inimitable Hogarth, in his print of Felix on his tribunal, done in the Dutch style. Nevertheless, seeing Fillet retire to execute the knight’s commands, he recollected17 himself so far as to tell the prisoners, there was no occasion to give themselves any farther trouble, for he would release them without bail or mainprise. Then discarding all the insolence18 from his features, and assuming an aspect of the most humble adulation, he begged the knight ten thousand pardons for the freedoms he had taken, which were entirely19 owing to his ignorance of Sir Launcelot’s quality.
“Yes, I’ll assure you, sir,” said the wife, “my husband would have bit off his tongue rather than say black is the white of your eye, if so be he had known your capacity.—Thank God, we have been used to deal with gentlefolks, and many’s the good pound we have lost by them; but what of that? Sure we know how to behave to our betters. Mr. Gobble, thanks be to God, can defy the whole world to prove that he ever said an uncivil word, or did a rude thing to a gentleman, knowing him to be a person of fortune. Indeed, as to your poor gentry20 and riffraff, your tag-rag and bob-tail, or such vulgar scoundrelly people, he has always behaved like a magistrate21, and treated them with the rigger of authority.”—“In other words,” said the knight, “he has tyrannised over the poor, and connived22 at the vices9 of the rich. Your husband is little obliged to you for this confession23, woman.”—“Woman!” cried Mrs. Gobble, impurpled with wrath24, and fixing her hands on her sides by way of defiance25, “I scorn your words.—Marry come up! woman, quotha! no more a woman than your worship.” Then bursting into tears, “Husband,” continued she, “if you had the soul of a louse, you would not suffer me to be abused at this rate; you would not sit still on the bench, and hear your spouse26 called such contemptible27 epitaphs.—Who cares for his title and his knightship? You and I, husband, knew a tailor that was made a knight; but thank God, I have noblemen to stand by me with their privileges and beroguetifs.”
At this instant Mr. Fillet returned with his friend, a practitioner28 in the law, who freely offered to join in bailing29 our adventurer, and the other two prisoners, for any sum that should be required. The justice perceiving the affair began to grow more and more serious, declared that he would discharge the warrants and dismiss the prisoners.
Here Mr. Clarke interposing, observed, that against the knight no warrant had been granted, nor any information sworn to; consequently, as the justice had not complied with the form of proceeding30 directed by statute31, the imprisonment32 was coram non judice, void. “Right, sir,” said the other lawyer; “if a justice commits a felon33 for trial without binding34 over the prosecutor35 to the assizes, he shall be fined.”—“And again,” cried Clarke, “if a justice issues a warrant for commitment, where there is no accusation36, action will lie against the justice.” “Moreover,” replied the stranger, “if a justice of peace is guilty of any misdemeanour in his office, information lies against him in Banco Regis, where he shall be punished by fine and imprisonment” “And, besides,” resumed the accurate Tom, “the same court will grant an information against a justice of peace, on motion, for sending even a servant to the house of correction or common jail without sufficient cause.”—“True!” exclaimed the other limb of the law, “and, for contempt of the law, attachment37 may be had against justices of peace in Banco Regis. A justice of the peace was fined a thousand marks for corrupt38 practices.”
With these words, advancing to Mr. Clarke, he shook him by the hand, with the appellation39 of brother, saying, “I doubt the justice has got into a cursed hovel.” Mr. Gobble himself seemed to be of the same opinion. He changed colour several times during the remarks which the lawyers had made; and now, declaring that the gentlemen were at liberty, begged, in the most humble phrase, that the company would eat a bit of mutton with him, and after dinner the affair might be amicably40 compromised.
To this proposal our adventurer replied, in a grave and resolute41 tone, “If your acting42 in the commission as a justice of the peace concerned my own particular only, perhaps I should waive43 any further inquiry44, and resent your insolence no other way but by silent contempt. If I thought the errors of your administration proceeded from a good intention, defeated by want of understanding, I should pity your ignorance, and, in compassion45, advise you to desist from acting a part for which you are so ill qualified46; but the preposterous47 conduct of such a man deeply affects the interest of the community, especially that part of it, which, from its helpless situation, is the more entitled to your protection and assistance. I am, moreover, convinced that your misconduct is not so much the consequence of an uninformed head, as the poisonous issue of a malignant48 heart, devoid49 of humanity, inflamed50 with pride, and rankling51 with revenge. The common prison of this little town is filled with the miserable52 objects of your cruelty and oppression. Instead of protecting the helpless, restraining the hands of violence, preserving the public tranquillity53, and acting as a father to the poor, according to the intent and meaning of that institution of which you are an unworthy member, you have distressed54 the widow and the orphan55, given a loose to all the insolence of office, embroiled56 your neighbours by fomenting57 suits and animosities, and played the tyrant58 among the indigent59 and forlorn. You have abused the authority with which you were invested, entailed60 a reproach upon your office, and, instead of being revered61 as a blessing62, you are detested63 as a curse among your fellow-creatures. This indeed is generally the case of low fellows, who are thrust into the magistracy without sentiment, education, or capacity.
“Among other instances of your iniquity64, there is now in prison an unhappy woman, infinitely65 your superior in the advantages of birth, sense, and education, whom you have, even without provocation66, persecuted67 to ruin and distraction68, after having illegally and inhumanly69 kidnapped her only child, and exposed him to a violent death in a foreign land. Ah, caitiff! if you were to forego all the comforts of life, distribute your means among the poor, and do the severest penance70 that ever priestcraft prescribed for the rest of your days, you could not atone71 for the ruin of that hapless family; a family through whose sides you cruelly and perfidiously72 stabbed the heart of an innocent young woman, to gratify the pride and diabolical73 malice74 of that wretched lowbred woman, who now sits at your right hand as the associate of power and presumption75. Oh! if such a despicable reptile76 shall annoy mankind with impunity77, if such a contemptible miscreant78 shall have it in his power to do such deeds of inhumanity and oppression, what avails the law? Where is our admired constitution, the freedom, the security of the subject, the boasted humanity of the British nation! Sacred Heaven! if there was no human institution to take cognisance of such atrocious crimes, I would listen to the dictates79 of eternal justice, and, arming myself with the right of nature, exterminate80 such villains81 from the face of the earth!”
These last words he pronounced in such a strain, while his eyes lightened with indignation, that Gobble and his wife underwent the most violent agitation82; the constable’s teeth chattered83 in his head, the jailor ............