PREFACE TO THE NOTES.

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The evils of the Court of Chancery have latterly been so much discussed, that I have thought it unnecessary to enter into long explanations upon the different objects of censure contained in the poem. The notes, therefore, contain only such observations as appeared absolutely necessary to make some of the verses more intelligible than could be effected in poetry, without a very tedious and dull circumlocution. The books of Chancery, practice and the report of the commissioners appointed to investigate the subject, will supply all deficiencies of this sort.

R. I. B.

THE COURT
O F C H A N C E R Y :
A Satirical Poem.

> His brains were sound; but little good they did.
Like some rich jewel in dark cavern hid.
Quick was his mind each error to perceive;—
Much craft had those who could that mind deceive—
A moment’s thought would often shew a flaw,
Which those who look’d much deeper never saw.
Well was he skill’d to crack a wretched jest,
And all who laughed were sure to be caress’d.
He bore no rival in his high career,
As Leach[20] can tell, at whom he lov’d to sneer;
To Flattery he yielded blind assent;
On those who blam’d him hate itself was spent;
This Brougham[21] has felt,—tho’ all his merit own,
Deprived by malice of a silken gown.
And yet his visage, like a crocodile
Intending mischief, still could wear the smile.
Oft times a tear-drop down his cheek would flow,
While aged victims told their tale of woe—
Told of their hopes delay’d and run to waste,
With wealth before them, which they could not taste—
Told of their starving babes and buried wife,—
Themselves just tottering on the brink of life.
Then would he clasp his hands with false intent,
And call on heaven to witness what he meant,
With promise send the discontent away,—
Their judgment certain on a future day.
It comes—again he feigns the ready tear,—
As God’s his judge, the papers are not here—
Where can they be?—his careful wife[22] perhaps
Has torn the dusty lumber into scraps.
Mishap unfortunate! the suitor cries,
His Lordship nods assent, and wipes his eyes
With ’kerchief clean, in which a potent leak
Draws from each orb the stream that wets his cheek.
“Alas! my lord, when will the judgment come?—
“Send me the papers, and I’ll take them home.”
The papers got, be sure to hand them in,
Tho’ Hand[23] to take them deem it half a sin,
And swears the mass now in his Lordship’s house
Has left no cranny for the smallest mouse.
This all results from pre-concerted plan;
The master trifles, why should not his man;
Excuse, the judgment day by day protracts,
His mind still wavering, or forgot the facts;
And yet he seems not unabashed by shame,
Thus forced in self-defence the lie to frame.
As carelessly around his glance he throws,
Each eye takes shelter underneath his brows,
Then with apparent calmness in the face,
He strives to meet you, but ’tis all grimace;
Look as he will, the thinking mind can see
He half detests his own duplicity;
Shrinks from the gaze of those who weep around,
And in his bosom feels a deeper wound.
Oft have I marked him in an inward trance,
And watched the changes of his countenance;
Thus have I seen, or fancied to have seen,
Remorse and terror painted on his mein:
Remorse for mischief done at best in sloth,
And terror; but how short the reign of both,
More lively feelings soon his grief restrain,
And heartless Eldon is himself again.
Albeit, when thieves in penitence begin
To weep their guilty deeds, and fly from sin,
The world oft profits by their former vice,
Should chance enroll them in the state police;
They follow crime as some old fox might do,
Who hunted once, another should pursue,
Woe to the wretch, that struggles to evade
The wary cunning of such renegade;
In vain each wile, each mazy turn he tries,
For justice triumphs, and the culprit dies.
So hopes the world that Eldon, now resigned,
Will own the faults to which his eyes were blind;
Chase out corruption from his dark abode,
And cleanse each path where fraud the usurper strode;
Thus may he by that dying act efface
The burning stigma of a life’s disgrace.
Shrink not, my lord, whate’er the muse appears,
She wars but feebly with declining years;
Compassion fetters what she fain would sing,
And robs severity of half its sting:
Those hoary locks command respect from youth,
But cannot wholly close the lips of truth.
Suppose the judgment given[24]; but after years
Of endless labour, and a million tears:
Suppose the minutes by his lordship’s scrawl
Drawn out and settled, after many a brawl;
Wherein loquacious Agar[25] bears the bell—
An empty clapper in a brazen shell.
Hark! how the frothy nonsense from his lips
Involves the audience in one black eclipse,
From which in vain they struggle to be free.
When darkness triumphs, who can hope to see?
Gods! what a tongue, and what a lack of wits!
How well the former with the latter sits!
In him the worst of causes finds a friend;
pan class="i2">How singularly fortunes changes fall!
Slow sneaking forth comes learned Weatherall.[40]
Yet half asleep, he seems just rous’d from bed;
Still shines the greasy nightcap on his head.
Unwash’d his face and hands, uncomb’d his hair,
Cut is his beard, but left the lather there.
One stocking decently his leg adorns,
The other, inside out, it’s neighbour scorns.
No brace sustains his small-clothes from the dirt,
Nor keeps conceal’d the mysteries of shirt.
Still is there something in his face and eye,
That serves to shew the mind’s ability,—
A strange effect of visage, that foretells
Profound research, e’en while it’s glance repells—
The light of wisdom ting’d by folly’s shade,—
Scholastic knowledge turned to masquerade.
He speaks; his diction, exquisitely rare,
Astounds the wise, and makes the simple stare.
Greek, Latin, Hebrew, tear his wearied lungs,
And English learns to speak in other tongues.
Fantastic thoughts fantastic language glean,
And reason wonders what they both can mean.
Ill has he tried to mount the heights of fame
By barter’d honor, and a turncoats name.
Why did he plead for traitors all unask’d?
The truth in vain dissimulation mask’d:—
’Twas injured pride, and baffled hope that urg’d,—
The patriot counsel in the madman merg’d.
How frail for him the web ambition spun;—
As now he is, so was his race begun.
What if he fall, or if he rise again,
We take no pleasure, and we feel no pain.
Few seek his friendship, or to hate have room,—
His heart a wilderness, his head a tomb;
From this the sympathies of life refuse
To spring, or soon their balmy fragrance lose;
That serves to bury Wisdom’s ancient lore,
But drives the living from its murky door.
All hail! Sir Charles! not Master of the Rolls,
Tho’ half decreed to tend those musty scrolls;
Had but the Premier sooner told his mind,
Or thou, Sir Charles, less hastily resign’d.
Sir Charles! what more? the sybil sisters fly,
And hide in mist the book of destiny!
From realms of darkness let us turn to light—
But where, if not to thee, ingenious Knight?[41]
An able draftsman, and a speaker bold,
By prudence guided, ne’er by fear controlled,
To clients faithful, not to foes unjust,
In better hands his suit could no one trust.
By honour urg’d, thou wilt not facts conceal,
But with strong argument their force repeal.
Thus truth is ever to thy speech attached,
Nor hopeless cause by blund’ring falsehood patch’d.
With whom can doubt on safer grounds advise!
Tho’ young in years, so prematurely wise.
In thee deep study, with experience crown’d,
Refines a judgment naturally sound;
Gives force to sense with which the mind is fraught,
And stamps decision on each passing thought.
Thy private life it boots not here to scan,
But as the counsel, so excels the man;
Thy courteous mein, and disposition bland,
Can tame down envy, and it’s rage withstand.
Thee love of virtue leads; nor rough the way
To those, who bend her dictates to obey.
Oh! may’st thou well the tide of glory stem,
And earn thy meed, the legal diadem!
Lo! Pepys with recent dignity elate
Appears, a not unpleasing advocate!
Fast from his lips the dulcet accents fall,
But not in tediousness, the ear to pall;
Seldom or never from that tone they part,
And by their sweetness wind into the heart.
Rise, Basil Montagu[42], and shew thy face,
Great legislator of the bankrupt race!
In thee I find a character so strange,
Description hardly can its traits arrange.
That tongue’s licentiousness, and cheek of brass
Betray the stock, of which thy lineage was.
Not void of intellect, but blind with pride,
In vain discretion strives thy course to guide.
Loud mirth precedes, each struggle for a hit,
And empty sneers supply the place of wit.
If careless clerks pay not retaining fees,
Be free as air, and plead for whom you please;
Make use of knowledge, you were paid to learn
For other’s good, and all to mischief turn.
Now state a case, now on thyself reply,
And shine the monarch of absurdity!
Nor less thy brains in making books excell—
Let who will read them, so the volumes sell.
Hodge bought his razors for a bargain, but
Was quite surprised to find they would not cut.
We buy thy books, yet not like Hodge admire;
To give the cut, we throw them in the fire.
To read would go beyond thine own intent,
And fix on us a double punishment.
For loss of money grief will soon abate,—
But what for loss of time can compensate?
Away; with tomes no more the world appal,
But rule supreme thy Court of Basinghall.[43]
Maintain thy temple in its purest state,—
A den of thieves to rapine consecrate.
Let perjured rogues the plunder first prepare,
And just partition be thine only care!
Away with conscience, ’tis an idle tale,
Reward thy service ’till the assets fail!
The service what? Each sovereign fee to store,
And curse the law, because it gives no more;
To hear a bankrupt, or a counsel prate,—
< nger calls, employ again thy pow’r,
But mangle not, unless thou can’st devour.[61]
Of death itself we little should complain,
If lingering torments did not add to pain.
Exhaustion summons; not that matter fails,
But idle nature o’er my muse prevails.
A weariness in her perhaps may find
The same sensations in a reader’s mind.
Enough for me, if one amid the throng
Shall learn to profit by my humble song;
Embark not vainly in a losing cause,
Nor seek protection from deficient laws.
Enough for me, if by exposure shamed,
One wretch shall be from vicious acts reclaim’d;
Admit that truth has temper’d censure’s rod,
And rescued him from Beelzebub to God!

THE END.
——————
LONDON:
Printed by J. Kay, 1, Welbeck Street,
Cavendish Square.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Market day to a country attorney, is like sowing-time to the corn-field. It lays the foundation of his professional harvest. From the conferences of that day spring all his actions at law, and his chancery suits. Litigation, encouraged by legal advice and good ale, warms into action, and is no longer restrained by the dictates of sober prudence.

[2] Every one knows the difficulty of reading Bell’s opinions. He is said to have three sorts of hand writing: the first he can read himself, but his clerk cannot. The second his clerk can read, but he cannot. The third, no human being; no, not even the most learned decipherer of hieroglyphics, can make out.

[3] I mean no personal disrespect to Mr. Bell, whose superior talents I freely acknowledge; but such are the opinions of most counsel, and on such precious morsels of indecision are founded chancery suits without number.

[4] This is a scene from Lincolns Inn. There is not a draftsman or solicitor, that will not feel the truth of it; the one with conscious shame, the other with that bitterness of spirit, arising from the recollection of repeated disappointments of a similar nature to those described.

[5] It is this demand of “money on account” that first removes the film from the eyes of the unhappy client. He then discovers the full horror of his situation. Expenses have been incurred, and to retreat will involve him in a certain loss. He therefore determines to proceed, but with terror in his looks, and despair at his heart.

[6] All chancery writs are sealed, which, being a mere matter of form, is done in a moment. Certain days, however, are appointed for this ceremony, and should any pressing business occur at any other time, it is necessary to pay a fee of two guineas to open the seal, as it is called.

[7] I recommend no man to attach his adversary for want of appearance or answer—let a defendant take his own time. The allowed costs of an attachment are somewhere about eight shillings and two pence, upon tendering which sum the defendant is entitled to be discharged from his contempt, although the plaintiff may have incurred an expense of 20l. in executing the process, and carrying his opponent to goal. Another instance of the propriety with which this court is denominated a “court of equity.”

[8] Should a solicitor be negligent in his business, the clerk in court will amuse himself for years with handing alternative notes of “Answer or Attachment” to the adverse clerk in court, without the least probability of any attention ever being paid to them. In every case this ridiculous courtesy is productive of much unnecessary delay. The order for time is equally useless and absurd. A defendant in a country cause is entitled as of course to two; one for six weeks, and another for a month. Why could he not be allowed to claim the time he is thus entitled to without this mummery and expense.

[9] An ingenious draftsman, well versed in all the dilatory knowledge necessary to protract a suit—the uncle, I believe, of the notorious Edward Gibbon Wakefield!

[10] James Lowe of Southampton Buildings, Chancery Lane, a well-known solicitor, very fond of drawing his own pleadings, but which, it is said, he cannot often get counsel to sign. Koe obliges him occasionally with his sign manual, but I have understood that this gentleman’s conscience is too tender on some occasions to give perfect satisfaction.

[11] To whom is the ignorant and blustering Francis Cross unknown; once captain of Militia, now master in chancery? His qualifications for the latter office are said to have been discovered by the late Lord Chancellor in the gallant exertions he displayed in assisting his Lordship and Lady Eldon out of the kennel, in which a broken down carriage had left them sprawling. Any scavenger would have done as much. Gratitude on this occasion really carried his Lordship too far, but as the only instance on record of any thing like feeling in his character, it is well worthy of admiration. The military genius of Captain Cross still displays itself in the repeated vollies of fire, ending in smoke, with which he attacks all those who have courage enough to dispute his erroneous opinions.

[12] Samuel Compton Cox,—a worthy man, but one who lets his passions outstrip his judgment. The slightest observation will often give offence, and anger renders him deaf to all reason and argument.

[13] Francis Paul Stratford—a gentleman, who frequently amuses himself with throwing books at the solicitors attending before him.

[14] James Stephen—a great advocate for the abolition of the Slave Trade—much to be commended for having abolished in his office that shameful practice of giving to the chief clerk large un-authorized fees upon every report. Few men would have had courage enough to brave the odium, to which such a step, unimitated by the other masters, must have exposed this gentleman.

[15] James Trower—the most trifling of all official babblers.

[16] John Pugh chief clerk to Sir Giffin Wilson, and John Hone the same to Master Cox. Should a solicitor pay not handsomely these two worthies, let him expect but little attention. From the former, indeed, it is hardly possible by any means to secure civility.

[17] Mr. Kensit and Mr. Jones; two men as remarkable for their abilities and civility as for the amiable contrast they exhibit to the two masters (Stratford and Cross) of whom they are respectively chief clerks.

[18] Lord Lyndhurst—the present Lord Chancellor—late Sir John Singleton Copley Knight—a man of strong intellect and sound judgment, but totally inexperienced in the practice and principles of a court of equity.

[19] The Earl of Eldon. The descriptive portrait of his Lordship is drawn from my own observation—my readers (if I should ever be fortunate enough to have any) will judge of its correctness.

[20] Sir John Leach, late vice chancellor, now master of the Rolls; the peculiar object of dislike to Lord Eldon on account of the comparative dispatch with which he disposed of the causes that were brought before him.

[21] Henry Brougham, (pronounced “Broom”) whose continual attacks upon his Lordship, and the court over which he presided, gave mortal offence.

[22] Her Ladyship’s frugality is well known. It would be out of place here to repeat the stories of the turbot and turkey.

[23] Mr. Hand Clerk of the papers to the late Lord Chancellor, who could never be prevailed on to receive papers, where he could avoid it with any sort of decency. Adverting to the immense accumulation of papers he used to say that the Chancellor could scarcely enter his own house without being in danger of breaking his shins over a bundle of briefs at the door.

[24] This being only an interlocutory proceeding, the supposition may perhaps be entertained.

[25] William Agar and his mansion in the country, near St. Pancrass workhouse, are well known. So inviolable does he maintain his territorial rights, that a poor wretch caught angling in his fish-pond the other day, was, as I hear, transported for that heinous offence. Frowd, of the firm of Frowd and Rose, Carey Street, and Philip Hurd, of the house of Hurd and Johnson, Temple, are notorious as the chief providers of this calf-like lion.

[26] George Spence. This gentleman, who lately contrived to get himself returned member of parliament for a few weeks, had the vain effrontery to inform the House of Commons that his sole object in getting there, was to instruct them in legislation on equitable juris-prudence.

[27] Witnesses in Chancery are examined upon written interrogations prepared and signed by counsel: a most wretched and ineffectual system of extracting truth. The execution of the commission is entrusted to friends of the solicitors in the cause, and the witnesses are all previously well tutored as to what it is expected of them to swear. The proceedings are always conducted at an inn, where the solicitors, commissioners and witnesses, drown all their animosities in the sociability of the table. Every day is provided at the expense of the litigant parties a dinner, at which the viands and wines are the very best and most expensive that the house can afford. Liberal potations of course produce head-aches, for which there is nothing so wholesome as air and exercise. Business is thus frequently neglected for the sports of the field. Can any censure be too severe for such iniquity?

[28] The depositions of witnesses are liable to be suppressed on many trifling grounds, which is another serious grievance arising out of the mode of taking evidence in the Court of Chancery. I was some time ago informed that the omission of the letter “s” at the end of the word “evangelists” in a jurat, actually caused an expense to the plaintiff of about 80l.

[29] The death of a party, who has an interest in any cause, often produces infinite delay. I have known a suit remain inactive for many years in consequence of there being no person who would take out administration to the deceased.

[30] The change or death of a solicitor in the cause is also frequently the means of prolonging a suit. There are many instances in which the taxation of a suitor’s bill has been pending for several years. Our friend James Lowe is here introduced on the grand arena of his fame. He carries taxation to an extremity of meanness and hostility that is perfectly disgusting!

[31] Solicitors are allowed 4d. a folio of ninety words for abbreviating pleadings, and 3s. 4d. a brief sheet for copying the abbreviations. They are also allowed 10s. a sheet for drawing and copying observations, which I will venture to say no counsel ever reads. The word “brief” is truly the “lucus a non lucendo.”

[32] Sir Samuel Romilly, who, with all his virtues, was as much attached to fees as any man. Hundreds of briefs did he take when he must have known that it was impossible for him to attend to them. A man cannot divide himself, nor be at the same moment in the House of Lords, and the Court of Chancery.

[33] Sir Anthony Hart, of considerable experience in the principles and practice of the Court of Chancery; but a prosing and monotonous advocate. One of his long speeches has frequently set me to sleep, and I believe I was not singular in my drowsiness. He has recently been created Vice Chancellor.

[34] Edward Burtenshaw Sugden, a counsel who always reads his briefs, and does justice to his case. He has written a book on powers, which he frequently cites as “The Book on Powers.” He has great talent, and has also the wit to know it. The Sussex election, at which he was so hastily “perused and settled” by Sir Godfrey Webster must be fresh in public recollection. His conduct more recently, on proposing himself for a borough, and offering to be guided in his politics by the wishes of the electors, deserves severe reprehension; but for this perhaps he is sufficiently punished by the exposure of his correspondence to that effect.

[35] William Horne, an angry snarler, of fluent speech, but feeble argument.

[36] Lancelot Shadwell, who well merits all that is said of him.

[37] John Fonblanque; who has merited more than he has obtained. His notes to the Treatise on Equity, are written with very considerable talent.

[38] Mr. Park, who some few years ago published a book of some merit, but which, it was said, he never wrote. This work, however, and his affectation of extraordinary piety seem to have been the cause of his elevation to a dignity, for which he was totally incompetent. His behaviour in court was occasionally that of an ideot. When on the circuit, the door of the town-hall must not creak, nor he be kept a moment from his dinner under any circumstances. His ill-temper exposed him to continual quarrels with the counsel, and whenever he found himself in the wrong, he talked of behaving towards one he might have offended with the patience of a Christian judge.

[39] George Heald, a man of great abilities, and considerable wit, but so idle that he seldom reads his brief. If the statements of counsel may be supposed to have any weight on the mind of the judge, what must be the situation of Heald’s client;—of whom the adverse counsel may state what he pleases as alledged in the pleadings without the fear of contradiction; for how can the other know whether it be true or false? To be sure if Agar were his adversary, he might give a shrewd guess!

[40] Sir Charles Weatherall!—late attorney general;—an office, to which it should seem he had long aspired. His defence of Watson, Thistlewood, &c. is well known; and the motive of his conduct in that affair is said to have been disappointed ambition. On the occasion of the late change in the ministry, it was asserted that a letter from the premier, appointing Sir Charles, Master of the Rolls, and from Sir Charles, tendering his resignation of the office of Attorney General, crossed each other on the road.

[41] James Lewis Knight;—of whose sound judgment and sterling talents I am glad to have an opportunity of offering this small tribute of admiration.

[42] Basil Montagu!—employed only in bankruptcy cases. He is particularly notorious in stickling for retainers; without which he pretends to think himself justified to support a petition to-day, and oppose it to-morrow. He is also an author; or, I should rather say, a compositor of books, which are sometimes bought, but not much read. I do not trouble myself about his genealogy.

[43] The bankruptcy system in this country is most horrible. Let any one visit the commissioners court in Basinghall Street, and witness the scenes that are there transacted. The commissioners are paid 20s. for each meeting, and in order to make the most of their time, they have frequently ten different appointments at the same hour. The confusion may be easily conceived.

[44] It was not until lately that the practice of conveyancing was converted into an independent branch of the legal profession, and clogged with all the niceties in which it is at present enveloped. Few titles can stand the test of the all-searching scrutiny with which they are now investigated. Conveyancers always furnish a very abundant supply of litigation to the Court of Chancery.

[45] Richard Preston, brought up in a country attorneys office, and thence removed to London, where he has for several years practised as a conveyancer. He is the editor of a work called, Shepherd’s Touchstone, and the author of several publications on conveyancing. In the early part of his career he obtained some reputation for talent, but much of it has passed away. He is vainer of his oratorical powers than a peacock of its tail, but the bird has this advantage over the man, that others unite in admiration of its feathers; while Preston is compelled to be satisfied with his own applause. He once formed a project, very ingenious no doubt, for cultivating some of the barren moors in Devonshire, but in attempting to carry it into effect, he was, I believe, nearly ruined.

[46] The arguments, will, I fear, be found very dull; but should the reader ever attend the Court of Chancery, he will find the reality equally stupid. It can hardly be expected of me that I should be able to make Horne agreeable, or Bell amusing.

[47] Some idle reference to the master is the favourite mode of disposing of a cause practiced by Sir John Leach—men who know no better praise him for his dispatch. The suitor finds to his cost that such expedition is very tedious and very expensive.

[48] The office of the registrars.

[49] Mr. South is chief clerk to Henry Burrows one of the deputy registrars of the court. To win South’s favor the solicitor must take copies of all minutes, orders, and decrees. It is not very wise to get into his black book. To those, who never bespeak an office copy he is blind and deaf. The following dialogue is said to have taken place between South and a solicitor. Sol. “I shall be obliged Mr. South by your letting me have the short order as soon as possible.” South. “Do you take a copy.” Sol. “No.” South. “Call in a fortnight.” Sol. “On second thought Mr. South, I shall want a copy.” South. “Oh! call to-morrow.”

[50] “The stationer” is a cant term made use of in all the Chancery offices for money you are obliged to give beyond the regular fees for expediting any business.

[51] Mr. Abbot, chief clerk in the office, where reports are filed—from whom the solicitor will in vain attempt to get an office copy of a report, unless “the stationer” has been thought of.

[52] The accountant general’s office; where a parcel of addle-headed clerks give the solicitors an infinity of trouble by picking holes in orders and reports for the purpose of shewing their consequence, and inducing the profession to bribe them into silence, which is accordingly often done with effect. It is better to humour the viper, than tread upon his tail.

[53] The office of the six clerks, and of the sixty clerks in court where all pleadings are filed. The principal duty of the clerks in court is to copy the pleadings (for which he is allowed 10d. a folio) and to assist the masters in taxing costs at the rate of 6s. 8d. for every hour or for every twenty folios in the length of the bill. They are all a set of drones, but our friend John Baines really out Hectors Hector.

[54] Taxation is entirely regulated by custom, and the principle upon which it is conducted often produces the greatest injustice as well to the solicitor as to the client. To get a party into contempt for disobedience to an order of the court a writ of execution must be taken out and served upon him, and various other expensive proceedings resorted to; and yet should he obey the order before the whole process is actually completed, not one sixpence will be allowed against him in costs. There are other instances equally gross. I have often argued against such injustice, but have been always answered “this is our rule, we cannot do otherwise.” Is it not high time that a remedy should be provided. There are some, who in taxing discretionary charges as between a solicitor and his client, invariably take off one half of each item. How must a conscientious solicitor suffer from this mode of exercising direction! The resource of a less delicate mind is obvious.

[55] Infants and lunatics are the peculiar objects of the court’s protection as well in person as estate—but it is like an ogre feasting on the traveller to whom he had offered an asylum.

[56] The court is frequently obliged to interfere in partnership brawls, and wind up the joint trade. The Opera House has been in Chancery for years, and Covent Garden has now the same felicity.

[57] Why is not the court as vigilant in abstaining from waste, as it is in preventing others from committing it?

[58] Tithe-questions present a fruitful source of equitable jurisdiction. It is the fashion of churchmen to boast of their title by “right divine.” If the right be celestial, the remedy is satanic!

[59] Marriage settlements produce infinite litigation, but much as husband and wife may be dissatisfied with each other, they generally end in abusing their equitable mediator—reminding one of the old adage:

He, who between man and wife interposes
Will get black eyes, and bloody noses.

[60] Referring to the Mortmain Acts. Wills supply the court with more than two thirds of its victims.

[61] Alluding to the present over-abundance of business which it would take years to clear away, without the introduction of any new suits. Even brutes refrain from swallowing what they are unable to digest.






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