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7

TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS
WE LIVE UNDER

Talks about the Laws
we live under

OR

AT L ANGLE Y NIGHT SCHOOL.

BY

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE.

LONDON:

WALTER SMITH, LATE MOZLEY,
34 King Street, Covent Garden.

1882.

PREFACE.

It may be asked why a female hand should have
meddled with what is confessedly beyond a lady's
province. I can only answer that I have often urged
the need of some such easy and popular mode of
diffusing information about our institutions, and have
been always answered that nothing would be more
useful, but no one would undertake it.

I have therefore done my best, referring for correc-
tion to persons practically acquainted with the working
of the institutions I have mentioned, and for technical
authority to the articles in the Encyclopcedia Brifannica,
as well as to other works too numerous to specify. If
I have been guilty of errors, I hope that they may be
kindly pointed out for future correction.

The form in which the information is cast is open
to the objection of improbability and awkwardness,
but it seemed the only way of making it at once easy
and lively enough to answer its purpose. I would
suggest that were a competent person to read it aloud
leaving opportunity for remarks and replies, many
popular fallacies might thus be corrected, and there

VI PREFACE.

might be an opportunity of impressing the great
responsibility of political rights.

In our dread of being accused of influencing on
behalf of one party or the other, we are, as it appears
to me, leaving our population utterly uninstructed in
their duties as citizens, and then we blame thiem for
their misuse of rights they have never been taught to
value at their true worth. I have endeavoured as far
as possible to avoid all tokens of political bias, that no
fear of inculcating party views may interfere with the
use of the book.

The lads who converse are supposed to belong to
the more intelligent class of village youths, ranging in
age from eighteen to thirteen.

C. M. YONGE.

Decembkb 1881.

CONTENTS.

CHAP . PA.OE

I. WHERE DOES THE POLICEMAN COME FROM ? 1

n. POLICE, ........ 9

m. JUSTICES OP THE PEACE, 14

IV. TRIAL BY JURY, 22

V. TOWN COUNCILS, 30

VI. SOLICITORS, 38

VII. THE BAR, 48

vm. PRISONS, 56

IX. HABEAS CORPUS, - 66

X. ASSIZES, 73

XI. THE TRIAL, 82

XHi PUNISHMENTS, 97

Xm. IMPRISONMENT, 113

XIV. RATES AND TAXES, 123

XV. THE REVENUE, 140

XVI. THE POOR LAWS, 166

XVIL CHURCH PATRONAGE, 169

XVin. THE THREE ESTATES OF THE REALM, . . 180

XIX. THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, 194

XX. GOVERNMENT, 208

s

TALKS ABOUT '

THE LAWS WE LIVE UNDER.

CHAPTEE I.

WHERE DOES THE POLICEMAN COME FROM?

{Schoolmaster coming on a party of hoys assembling for

the Night School.)

Mr. Lamb. — What's that you are saying, Albert?
No answer]

George. — He was only saying, sir, Where does the
Bob — I mean the Policeman — come from 1

Herbert. — I know. His little girl told me they came
from Rattlesey last.

Mr. L. — That was not what Albert meant, was it 1

Albert. — No, sir. I said, Who put him there to lug
us about?

Mr. L. — I suppose he does not lug you about
without cause.

Boys (laughing). — Albert was lying atop of the new
wall.

Mr. L. — ^Not very good for the wall, I should say.

Albert. — But what call had he to meddle with me ?

Mr. L. — Very well. If a big fellow leaps out of the
hedge to-night, and carries oflF that new hat of yours, I
suppose you won't halloo for the police, because they
might have no call to interfere.

2 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Albert. — I was doing no harm.

Mr. L. — ^But do you not see that if you wish to be
protected, it is only just that you should follow the
rules of those who protect you, even when you cannot,
in your wisdom, see the reason of them. A man who
took a fancy to your hat might think it as hard to be
hindered from helping himself to it, as you think it
hard to be prevented from loosening the new bricks
and mortar and being disagreeable to passers-by. If
we are to live in society, we must submit to its
regulations.

Edward (the Pupil Teacher.) — Yes, sir, I know out in
the far west of America, where there really are no laws
nor police, nor magistrates, the gold-diggers have to
lynch a fellow when he gets too bad.

Gem^ge. — ^What 's that 1

Edward. — They kick him out; or sometimes tkey
hang him,* or shoot him — or worse.

Mr. L. — Yes. Lynch-law is mob law. It is said to
be called from a farmer in Virginia who thus acted for
himself. Men cannot live together without some law,
and some means of enforcing it.

John. — Surely, sir, for God made laws, and the
Powers that be are ordained of God.

Mr. L. — You have worked round to it the other
way, John. I was trying to prove to Albert the expe-
diency to man himself of living under law. You take
it on the side of duty towards God, which is of course
the higher view. He established the family, where
the father is the head. The family multiplied into the
tribe, with the Elder, the Sheik, or Patriarch to rule it.

Edward. — Like the Arabs still.

WE LIVE UNDER. 3

Mr, L. — And when men become more numerous,
and tribes get broken up, then there must be law and
government of some sort, in the hands of the civil power.

Albert, — Civil ! it is not always civil, I'm sure !

Mr, L, — Perhaps not, to those who begin by being
uncivil.

George. — I've heard of a civil war, and it is the
worst sort, because it is the people of the country set
against each other.

John, — Like the Wars of the Eoses, or the Great
Rebellion.

Herbert. — Or Absalom's rebellioiL

Mr, L, — True ; and Edward can explain the name.

Edward, — Civis is the Latin for a citizen. So a
Civil war is a war between fellow-citizens.

John, — And were civil manners town-bred manners 1

Mr, L, — Yes, in distinction to rough country folks'
behaviour. So civU government means the government
of citizens, because it was first required in cities, where
the family and tribe rule was broken up.

Edward, — And do we not talk of the Civil power
in contrast to the Military %

Mr, L, — The state and the army — ^yes, you are
quite right ; and the same process may be traced with
regard to the Greek word, Polls, a city.

George. — Polite means the same as civil, with fine
town manners.

Mr. L, — Nay, George, such are only the manners
befitting every manly man and womanly woman ; bat
you are quite right as to the origin of the term&

Edward, — I see ; jpolitics mean state affairs, and
policy is cleverness in managing them.

4 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

George, — And police 1

Mr. L. — The force which keeps order within a
city. So we have worked round to the Policeman
from whom we started, and Albert's question, Who put
him there? Can any one tell who did so 1

JoJm, — The Superintendent in the blue coat with-
out any white letters. I have seen him in his cart.

George, — No, no. The Superintendent only looks
after him. There's a gentleman over them all that
they call the Chief Constable, who lives in a big house
in Carchester.

Mr. L, — Yes, each county has its own police, under
charge of a Chief Constable, who is elected by the
justices of the peace or magistrates.

Herbert. — Our squire is one of them.

Albert, — And how do they get made ?

Mr, L, — ^The Lord Lieutenant recommends them to
the Crown.

Edward, — Lieutenant. That is French, is it not 1 and
means place-holder or deputy. The Lord Lieutenant
is a nobleman, I know, but whose place does he hold ?

Mr, L. — The Sovereign's. He is the commander
of the militia or county force, and is appointed by the
Crown, usually in accordance with the advice of the
Cabinet' ministers.

Albert, — The Queen chooses them too.

Mr. L, — Yes, but they come in or go out according
to whether there is a majority of votes on their side in
the House of Commons.

George. — And the Commons — if that means the
members of Parliament — ^get elected by the voters in
the counties and boroughs.

WE LIVE UNDER. 5

John, — It is all wheel within wheel ; I should like
to understand more about it.

Mr, L. — Well, if you like, I will try and make out
the rights of these matters with the help of Mr.
Somers, and we will talk them over after night-
school, for I think every one ought to know how he is
governed.

Albert — And I want to know what they get by it.

Mr, Z.— Who ?

Albert, — Why, the magistrates and Lord Lieutenants
and all those swells.

Mr, L, — Just nothing at all, if you mean the county
magistrates or justices of the peace, and the Lord
Lieutenants. The police, being ofl&cers employed and
bound to give up their whole time, have to be paid out
of the county rates. The justices of the peace give
their time freely.

George, — You know all about the Law, don't you,
sir?

Mr, L, — All a.bout it ! Perhaps the Lord Chancellor
may know that, George !

George, — A great deal, any way.

Mr, L, — More than some of my neighbours, I allow
you, George, for my father was a lawyer's clerk ; and
when his master died, he left him a lot of old books,
which I sometimes read, for I was a boy who would
read anything on a wet holiday. I' have some of them
still, so I can look things up for you.

TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER 11.

POLICE.

Herbert. — I told the policeman what you had been
telling us about, sir, and he says you have not got his
name right. He says he is a police constable.

Mr, Lamb, — I was coming to that, my boy.

Gkarge. — You always see that in the newspapers,
Police Constable X. 24, or whatever it may be.

Albert, — They don't always go by such fine names
as that.

Mr. L. — No, but their slang names contain a piece
of history.

Albert,— Wh&t ! Bobbies ]

George. — And some call them Peelers.

Mr. Z.— Both from Sir Robert Peel, who, in 1829
brought in the bill which established the London
polioe. Who can tell me who Sir Robert Peel was t

Edward, — He was prime minister under William IV.
and for part of the reign of the present Queen.

Mr. L. — True. His grandfather was a cotton-spinner
at Manchester, who rose to prosperity by his industry
and enterprise. One day when he was planning new
patterns, his little daughter brought in a parsley leaf,
and from it a sprig was drawn which became such a

WE LIVE UNDER. 7

favourite that the other cotton spinners called the
father " Parsley Peel," and the family held themselves
greatly beholden to " Nancy's pattern " as they named
it His third son, Robert, was also a cotton-spinner,
and he made a large fortune when steam-machinery
was coming well into use, and became a member of
Pailiament and a Baronet. He had an excellent wife,
his partner's daughter, but the whirl of oocupation
and gaiety broke her health, and she died so early
that her old father used to say, " If Robert had not
made our Nelly a lady, she would have been here
now." Well, this is going a good way from the Police,
but I wanted to show Albert that our law-givers spring
fr<»n something not far distant from ourselves.

George, — I've heard father say police were only for
towns at first.

Mr, L, — Only for London at firSt. Sir Robert Peel's
act was at first only for London.

John. — What did they have before that 1

George, — There were constables. My grandfather
was a constable.

Herbert, — I told you they were police constables now.

Mr, L, — I must go back a long way, to the old
Saxon times. Then, in every tithing, which was sup-
posed to include ten families of freemen, each man was
responsible for the peacefulness of the rest, and if a
mui wa8 troublesome or mischievous, they raised the
hue and cry and hunted him out of their borders. If
he could give no account of himself, the next tithing
treated him in the same way, and he became an outlaw.

John, — What was the hue and cry 1

Mr. L. — The shouting to every, one to hunt down

8 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

the criminal. "Stop thief" is a remnant of it. If a
wrong was done, the head-ljorough, or chief man of
the tithing raised the shout, and every man who heard
it was bound to leave his work and join in the chase,
till the wretch was either run down and punished, or
driven out of the tithing.

Edward. — Like the Lynch law George told us of.

Mr, L. — We are dealing with barbarous times. As
far as I can make out, when the Normans came in, and
law terms were translated into French, the man who
had the right to call up the hue and cry came to be
known as the Constable.

Edward. — Is it a French wordi

Jiff^ L.—^MoTB properly Latin. It once was Comes
Stahuli, Comrade (the King's Comrade) of the Stable,
Master of the Horse, a general of the cavalry. The
Grnnd Connestahle or High Constable in France was a
very mighty person indeed, general of all the armies, and
so powerful that the kings at last ceased to appoint one.

Edward. — I have heard of the High Constable of
France.

Mr. L. — In England the Duke of Norfolk always
bears the title, but it gives no power. In England a man
in each hundred was appointed to act as Constable for
the district, but as these men still worked at their
trades, they had no time and no skill to detect offences,
and in the cities and towns other arrangements soon
were needed. Where there was a Mayor and alderman
there were some attempts at order. In London
especially there were watchmen by night, whose
business it was to walk through the streets and shout
out the hour, "Past One o'clock and all's well!"

WE LIVE UNDER. 9

arresting any one who was making a disturbance. I
will read you a bit of a scene from Shakespeare, which
shows that he did not think much of the efficiency of
the watch, or the good sense of the officers. You will
observe that he makes the two chief officers, Dogberry
and Verges, confuse and mispronounce all the long

words. They are giving directions to the watch : —

*'Dog. — Are you good men and true ?

Verges. — Yea, or else it were a pity but they should suffer
salvation.

Dog, — Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if
they should have any allegiance in them, being chosen for
the prince's watch.

Ver. — Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.

Dog. — First, who do you think the most disheartless man to
be constable ?

1st Watch. — Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal, for they
can both write and read.

Dog. — Come hither, neighbour Seacoal. Heaven has blest
you with a good name. To be a well-favoured man is the gift
of fortune, but to write and read comes by nature.

2nd WcUch. — Both which, master constable —

Dog. — You have. I knew it would be your answer. Well,
for your favour, sir, make no boast of it, and for your reading
and writing, let that appear when there is no need of such
vanity. You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit
man for the constable of the watch ; therefore bear you the
lantern, this is your charge. You shall comprehend all vagram
men ; you are to bid any man stand in the prince's name.

2nd Watch. — How if he will not stand ?

Dog. — Why then, take no note of him, but let him go, and
presently call the rest of the watch together, and thank Heaven
you are rid of a knave.

Ver. — If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of
the prince's subjects.

Dog. — True, and they are to meddle with none but the
prince's subjects. You shall also make no noise in the streets ;

10 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

for th« watoh to babUe and talk is most tolerable, and not to
be endured.

2nd Watch, — ^We will rather sleep than talk. We know
what belongs to a watch.

■ Dog, — Why, yon speak like an ancient and most quiet watch-
man ; for I cannot see how sleeping should offend, only have a
care your bilk (their axes) be not stolen. Well, yon are to eaU
at all the ale-houses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed.

2nd Watch, — How if they will not ?

Dog, — ^Why then let them alone till they are sober. If they
make you not then the better answer, you may say they are
not the men you took them for.

2nd IfateA.— Well sir?

Dog. — If you meet a thief, you may suspect him by virtue of
your office to be no true man, and for such kind of men, the
less you meddle or make with them, why, the more is for your
honesty.

2nd Watch, — If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay
liands on him ?

Dog, — ^Truly, by your office you may, but I think they that
touch pitch will be d&filed. The most peaceable way for you is,
if you do take a thief, to let him shew himself for what he is,
and steal out of your company.

Ver, — ^You have always been called a merciful man, partner.

Dog, — Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more
a man who hath any honesty in him.

Ver, — If you hear a child cry in the night, you must call to
the nurse and bid her still it.

2nd Watch, — How if the nurse be asleep and will not hear us ?

Dog, — Why then depart in peace, and let the child wake her
with crying, for the ewe that will not hear her lamb when it
baes, will never answer a calf when he bleats.

Ver. — 'Tis very true.

Dog. — Well, masters, good-night. An there be any matter
of weight chance, call up me. Keep your fellows' counsel and
your own, and good-night. Come neighbour.

2nd Watch, — Well, masters, we hear our charge ; Let us sit
here on the Church bench till two and then all to bed.

WE LIVE UNDER. 1 1

George, — Thank you, sir. Wouldn't that be about
the sort of police you would like, Albert ?

Edward. — But was this really the way they went on,
sifl

Mr, L, — I do not suppose any magistrate ever gave
such instructions as Dogberry, but the watchmen
certainly acted as if they had been thus commanded.
Many of them were decrepit old fellows who could not
have dealt with strong and fierce men if they had
wished it, and who did little but sleep on the benches
or round the watch-fires at the ends of the streets.

John, — Watch-fires !

George, — There was no gas then.

Edward, — There always was gas, just as there always
waB fiteam^ but the use of it had not been discovered.

Mr, L, — Just so, and oil lamps on posts had not then
been thought of. People used lanterns, and boys were
employed to carry links or long torches to light people
home from parties. At old houses in London, the iron
extinguishers may still be seen into which the links
w«re thrust to put them out.

Herb&rt, — Then I suppose it was not safe to go
about 1

Mr, L, — By no means. Robberies and murders
were very common. When a place of entertainment
caJled Eanelagh was set up at Chelsea, the old pen-
sioners were paid to guard the streets around, or people
could not have come. There were a set of wild young
men who disguised themselves as Mohawk Indians,
and went about doing all sorts of riotous mischief, so
as to be the terror of all quiet people. Even aJPber
they had been put down, it was a favourite joke to

1 2 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

catch an old watchman asleep in his sentry-box,
shut him in, and lay the whole thing down on its
side.

George, — And did not they wrench the knockers
off the doors ?

Edward. — There's a scene in Nicholas NuMeby,
where the young gentleman is brought up before the
magistrate, and there 's a witness in such a hurry to
speak that he calls out, '' He has his knocket full of
pockers, your worship; he has his knocket fiill of
pockers."

Albert. — They must have had rare times then.

Mr, L. — May be you would think so, Albert, but I
doubt whether your father or mother would. Things
were all the worse in London, because the power of
the Lord Mayor and Aldermen did not extend beyond
the City itself. All the part beyond was reckoned as
only in the county of Middlesex, and provided for like
a county. The magistrates used to sit at an office in
Bow Street, but they had so much to do that they
seem to have given up all hope of doing anything.
There were gangs of street robbers, and terrible
murders undetected.

Edward. — When was this, sir %

Mr. L. — The first attempt at improvement was in
1757 — George ii.'s time — when Henry Feilding found
himself one of these magistrates. He represented that
the only hope of keeping order would be to have
peace-officers whose whole trade should be to put
down disorder and crime. These constables were
called Bow Street runners, and they did some good.
The largest gang of thieves was put down after a

WE LIVE UNDER. 1 3

desperate fight, in which one constable and one house-
breaker were killed. This was the beginning, and the
Bow Street officers were gradually multiplied. They
only however were employed by day. The old watch-
men were employed by night, and the force was under
the command of the magistrates, who were thus judges
and thief-takers both in one. It was, as I said, iiu
1829 that the police were made a separate body, under
commissioners, who had only to arrest the ofiender,
not to try him, and were regularly trained and drilled
to make them more efficient. By-and-by the system
was adopted in other towns, and in 1840 county
magistrates were empowered, if they desired it, to
establish a rural police, which has now become uni-
versal in England.

1 4 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER III.

JUSTICnSS OP THE PEACE.

G4orge, — 11 1 had been there !

Albert. — Where was the policeman, says I ?

George, — Mrs. Brown says it is no tramp.

John. — I was sure that chap was up to no good.

Albert. — She 's gone to swear an information against
him.

Mr. L. — What *s all this commotion about 1

Albert. — It's a rascally chap, sir, who has been and
stolen my watch that my grandmother is keeping for
me — ^the one that her old master left her, and I am
to have when I get a place. He took it up from off her
very chimney-piece when she was just gone out to buy
a bit of bacon ! Policeman, he says he thinks he saw
a suspicious-looking chap go up our way — one of those
navvy fellows that have been at the new bridge of
late — and he came down just now to fetch Granny to
swear her information before the Squire.

Mr. L. — then ! you do see some use in policemen,
Albert.

John. — That 's just what I was telling him, sir. His
Granny would not have much chance of seeing her

WE LIVE UNDER. 15

watch again without the police, whose business it is to
look up the bad lot.

Mr, L, — I hope she may see it again ; but thieves
are so apt to melt up silver that plate is seldom
recovered, unless the pursuit is very rapid. I suppose
the policeman is to search the man's lodging if he has
one.

Edward, — Can he do that without a warrant from a
tnagistrate, sirl

Mr. L, — No ! no constable can enter a private house
to search for stolen goods without authority given from
a magistrate ; but I believe policemen are permitted to
search places of notorious ill repute, if they think they
see cause for so doing.

Albert. — Then they '11 summons the fellow I

Mr. L. — It would be more correct to say that a
justice of the peace will summon, or send him a sum-
mons to appear before either himself or the bench of
magistrates at the next petty sessions.

Edtvard. — You said the justices of the peace were
the gentlemen appointed by the Lord Lieutenant.
What have they to do ]

Mr. L. — To manage the affairs of the county, to
deal with petty offences, and to commit the greater
criminals to gaol to await the assizes, and then to
form the grand jury which decides whether there i&
evidence enough to make a case worth sending to a
judge.

George. — Were there always justices, as you call
themi

Edward. — Did not they begin in the time of
Edward ii. 1

16 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr, L. — ^Yes, they then first were commissioned by
the Crown. In earlier times the Saxon free men had
been used to choose out one of their number to act as
judge. Also the Earls had power of executing justice
on their estates, a power that was called in fang thief
and out fang thief which you may explain, if you can.

Edward, — ^Whaf? Was in fang thief catching the
thief on my lord's own ground 1

John, — And then out fang thief must have been going
after him beyond it. What was done to him when he
was caught 1

Mr, L, — He was generally hung, for the law was
very severe.

George, — I don't know but that Albert feels like
hanging the man who has his watch — or his grand-
mother's.

Mr. L. — I don't think the poor wretch would have
much chance if Albert led the hue and cry at this
moment and took him, as used to be said, '^hot
foot." The Norman lords, when they obtained English
estates, brought their own notions about rights of pit
and gallows, that is, of imprisonment and hanging.

Edward, — Did not the English try to get back the
old law 1

Mr, L, — ^Each king in turn promised that the old law
should be observed, and Henry I. and ii. took care that
no one should break it but themselves. Magna Charta,
as you know, fixed it as the law of England, but in the
wild times of Henry IIL no one obeyed any rule that
could be avoided.

George. — I thought Edward i. was a great law-giver.

Mr, L, — So he was, and we shall have to speak of

WE LIVE UNDER. 17

him by and by, when we come to the regular judges
and courts of law. But it was when the country was
recovering from the misrule of the times of Edward ii.
that king Edward ill. appointed that in every county
good men and lawful should be assigned as maintainers
of the peace. This was in the sixteenth year of his
reign, and the plan must have been found to answer,
for in his thirty-fourth year, it was again enacted that
each county should have assigned one lord, and three
or four of the most worthy in the county, with some
learned in the law, who were to have power to restrain
trespassers and offenders, rioters and the like, and to
chastise them. They were also to hold courts to hear
and determine causes, or as the old French had it
" Oyer et determiner" and the same French statute called
them Justices de la pees.

John, — Why was it French ?

Edward, — Because William the Conqueror made
French the language of the law-courts.

Mr, L, — To this hour some French phrases remain,
such as when the crier of the court begins, yes, yesy
yes, it is really meant for Oyez, " hear, hear, hear."

John. — I am glad it is not all French now !

Mr. L. — Statutes went on being in French up to the
end of Heniy vi.'s time, I believe, though already many
gentlemen did not know the language.

Edward. — Then these worthy persons, I suppose,
were the land-owners in the county ]

Mr. L. — The fittest of them that could be found.
Some would be men who had some experience of the
world, who had served in war and made their fortunes
as merchants, but as, in those days, the younger sons

B

18 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

generally went out into the world, and the heir stayed
at home, and got little education, these county magis-
trates were for a good many generations apt to be very
ignorant and to do somewhat rough-and-ready justice.

Edward, — ^Does not Shakespeare show them up, sir 1

'Mr, L, — Shakespeare is said to have had his own
quarrel with them, and to have run away from his home
at Stratford-on-Avon in consequence of his share in a
poaching fray [in the park of Sir Thomas Lucy in
Warwickshire. It is certain that he gives his foolish
magistrate. Justice Shallow, the same coat of arms as
was borne by the Lucys.

George, — Could you not read us a bit about him, sir,
as you did about that Mr. Dogberry ]

Mr, L, — The drollest scene in which Shallow occurs
is not connected with the present duties of magistrates,
but with the pricking or choosing men for the militia
when an army is to be called out against the rising of
Northumberland against Henry iv., where that old
rogue FalstaflF, who is to be their captain, takes the
bribe offered by the two most capable men of the lot,
and rejects them, only retaining four half-starved
ragged wretches. Shallow exclaims honestly enough :
" Sir John, Sir John, you do yourself wrong ; they are
your likeliest men, and I would have you served with
the best;" but he lets himself be talked down when
Falstaff answers : " Will you tell me, Master Shallow,
how to choose a mani Care I for the limbs, the
thewes, the stature, bulk, and big assemblance of a
man] Give me the spirit, Master Shallow!" with
more to the same effect, which quite confuses the poor
homely country gentleman.

WE LIVE UHDER. 19

Edward, — Then they used to be an ignorant set 1

Mr. L. — ^Not so ignorant as their neighbours per-
haps, Albert ; but I will give you another story from
Sir Walter Scott, who says : " We have read some-
where of a justice of peace, who, upon .being nominated
in the commission, wrote to a bookseller for the statutes
respecting his official duty in the following ortho-
graphy — * Please send the ax relating to a gustus
pease/ No doubt when this learned gentleman had
possessed himself of the ^xe, he hewed the laws with it
to some purpose." Herbert does not understand it.

Herbert. — No, sir. What was the axe ?

Mr. L. — The Acts — copies of the Acts of Parliament.
. John. — But was this a gentleman, sir ?

Mr. L. — Yes, Augustus Pease, as Sir Walter calls
him, was a gentleman some hundred or a hundred
and fifty years ago, when education did not always
extend to remote country places. Clergymen often
became magistrates, and indeed do so still in places
where there are not many resident gentry. You see
the cases that come before them at the Petty Sessions
are generally such as any one with a clear head
and an honest purpose can deal with — trespass, tipsy
rows, quarrels between angry women, small thefts.
It is much better that trifles like these should be
settled at once than be kept waiting for weeks and
months. A magistrate's clerk, who is a lawyer, is sure
to be present, and can be consulted ; and" all weightier
matters are reserved for the Quarter Sessions and
Assizes.

Albert. — You said the Magistrates were not paid.

Mr. L. — Strictly speaking, I believe, money was pro-

20 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

vided in old times to meet the expense of coming into
the county town and lodging there, but the change in
the value of money made this not worth reckoning,
and it has been in some counties, if not in all,
given up, or given to pay county expenses, so that
the justices of the peace are justly called the unpaid
magistracy.

Albert. — Why do they do it then 1

Mr. L. — There is a spirit in most Englishmen,
Albert, that makes them glad to undertake important
duties and be put in authority without seeking gain.
Most squires are willing to have the power of enforcing
order in their own neighbourhood, and likewise of
dealing with all the county matters. I mean the
making rates to keep up the bridges, pay the police,
and the like ; also they license public-houses, or take
away the licenses of undeserving ones, and do a great
deal which in some countries, France for instance, is
all done from an office under Government.

John. — I 'm sure Squire Manners is the right man to
have a share in all that. He knows every soul about
here, and would not see a wrong done to the poorest.
He is a real gentleman.

George.— And there 's Captain Brown. He has been
a soldier-officer, and to be sure he will stand no non-
sense, and makes a fellow mind him.

Edward. — And they say Sir James, who was a
lawyer in London, always brings them to book about
the law.

Mr. L. — We have got past the days of Justice
Shallow and Augustus Pease.

George. — But, sir, surely that magistrate down at

WE LIVE UNDER. 21

Carchester is a paid one 1 He sits all day, instead of
once a fortnight like the gentlemen.

Mr, L.—ln thickly-peopled places, large towns, and
the like, it has heen found necessary to have police
magistrates paid to give up their whole time, and
they are always men bred to the law. But towns and
cities are under diflferent regulations from the counties,
and have authorities of their own.

Edward. — Mayors and^ aldermen ]

Mr, L, — We must leave them for another time. It
is late, and we have said quite enough to-day about
county magistrates.

Edward, — All who judge are magistrates, are not
they, sir ; not only justices of the peace 1

Mr, L, — You are quite accurate, Edward. A judge,
nay, the Queen herself, is a magistrate. The word
comes from the Latin magister or master. One thing
more : magistrates are so made by a commission from
the Crown, and on taking oaths to obey the Queen and
carry out the laws. Their commission ceases on the
death of the Sovereign, and has to be renewed. You
can see this again in Shakespeare, where, on Justice
Shallow rebuking FalstafTs swaggering officer and
pleading his authority, Pistol cries " Under which king,
Bezonian, speak or die. Harry the Fourth or Fifth ]"
" Harry the Fourth," says Shallow ; and Pistol cries
"A fico for thine office !"

32 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER IV.

TRIAL BY JURY.

Mr, L, — Well, Albert, how about the watch 1

Albert, — Oh, the policeman found it, sir, hid away
in an old boot, but the man had been and broke Mrs.
Gyon's window besides, and took out a bit of cheese,
and the magistrates said he must be tried at the
Quarter Sessions. I hope they will give it to him
well, I do !

Mr. L, — I see, it is too serious a charge to be
decided by the justices of the peace on their own
responsibility.

Herbert, — And what are the Quarter Sessions, sir 1

Mr, L. — They are a meeting of the justices of peace
for the county at the county hall, four times a year, to
arrange county business, and to hear and determine
such causes as are not serious enough to be kept for
the Assizes.

Albert. — But what *s the use of putting it off then,
if still it is only the same magistrates 1

Mr. L. — There is a great difference. First, the
court does not consist merely of the four or five magis-
trates of the immediate neighbourhood, but of those

' WE LIVE UNDER. 25

from all parts of the county. Then they are guided
by a chairman who is chosen by themselves for his
good sense, experience, a^d weight of character, ai^d
who acts as judge, and there is another great point;
namely, that there is a jury.

John. — A jury is twelve men, is it not 1 My father
was on a jiiry once.

George. — Trial by jury is one of the rights of English-
men.

«

Mr. L. — I wonder whether any of you lads can tell
why it is a boast of Englishmen ?

Edward. — Well, I know it is, but I don't quite see
how. 1 should have thought the squire, for one, would
have known more about a thing than John's father.

Mr. L. — That may be, but one man — be he who he
may — is in more danger of being swayed by fear or
favour than twelve can be. It is the right of each of
us to be tried by our peers, that is, our equals. They
have, after hearing all that is to be said for and against,
to reply whether the prisoner be, in their judgment,
guilty or not guilty, and it is to the honour of this
country that in almost every case there is a real, honest
endeavour on their part to do justice between man and
man. The prisoner in fact has the right of challenging,
that is, objecting to, any one whom he thinks likely to
be prejudiced against him.

George. — That is only fair-play.

Edward. — Did not King Alfred begin the trial by
jury?

Mr. L. — King Alfred has been supposed to be the
author of everything Englishmen are proud of, but
though he mentions something like juries in his laws

24 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

they had begun before his time. The first juries were
twelve men appointed to stand by and see the accused
person clear himself.

John. — How did he do that 1

Mr. L. — By ordeal, if he could. Generally it was
by fighting with his accuser, after a solemn service and
an appeal to God to show the right. Or a woman
might appoint a champion to fight in her cause.

Edward. — I know Rebecca did in Ivankoe, but I
thought that was only by way of a tale.

Mr. L. — The ordeal of battle was part of the law of
England up to 1817, though the kings had discouraged
it. You remember that Eichard ii. stopped the fight
between the Dukes of Norfolk and Hereford. And
some thirty years later when two men begged permis-
sion of Henry v. to recur to the ordeal of battle, he
answered that if one was killed, he should have the
other hanged for murder, which put a stop to it. , But
there were other ordeals. The cruel old practice of
throwing a supposed witch into a pond was one of them.
People grasped bars of hot iron, or walked over heated
ploughshares barefooted, to prove that they had sworn
a true oath.

George. — But then there must have been a miracle if
they were not hurt.

Mr. L. — I am not sure. I believe that in iron
foundries it has been proved that a rapid bold grasp by
a hand bathed in perspiration leaves the skin unhurt,
because the evaporation protects it, and a person full
of conscious innocence, and inll faith, would so seize it.

George. — And the guilty one would be frightened
and get burnt. Well, I should not like to try.

WE LIVE UNDER. 25

Mr. L, — No, and ordeals were gradually left off.
You see they were only used where the guilt was

«

doubtful, to prove one man's word against another's.

Edward, — And the jury stood by to see fair play
and decide between them ]

Mr. L. — Just so, and as ordeals went out of fashion
the jury continued to decide, but by collecting evidence
themselves, so as to find out which party was most
likely to be in the right. I will read you part of a
description of a trial by jury in the time of Henry iii.^

One William of the Palace is accused of having
broken open and robbed the king's treasury at West-
minster. He is asked —

** * Culprit, how wilt thou defend thyself? *

** William of the Palace was about to answer. He was small,
dehilitated, and sickly, yet hot and angry, so he began to pull
at his glove preparing for the battle ordeal, but before it was
half drawn off, Master Andrew (a person who had undertaken
his defence) stepped forward and said, * He put himself upon
his country.' "

'* ' Sheriff, is your inquest in court ? ' then was demanded."

** ' Yes, my Lord,' replied the Sheriff, * and I am proud to
say it will be an excellent jury to the crown. I myself
have picked and chosen every man on the panel. I have
spoken to them all, and there is not one whom I have not
examined carefully, not only as to his knowledge of the offence
wherewith the prisoner stands charged, but of all the circum-
stances from which his guilt can be collected, suspected or in-
ferred. All the jurors are acquainted with him, eight out of
the twelve have often been known to declare upon their troth
they were sure one day he would come to the gallows, and the
remainder are fully of opinion that he deserves the halter. My
Lord, I should ill have performed my duty if I had allowed
my bailiffs to summon the jury at hap-hazard, and without

^ From Sir Francis Palgrave's Merchant and Friar.

26 TALKS ABOUT THS LAWS

])reviou8ly ascertaining the extent of their testimony. Some
perhaps know more, and some less, but the least informed of
them have taken great pains to go up and down in every hole
and corner of Westminster, they and their wives, and to learn
all they could hear concerning his past and present life and
conversation. Never had any culprit a better chance of a

fair trial"

• •••••

" William of the Palace, the prisoner, not having challenged
any of the panel, they were duly sworn to say the truth, and
after retiring for a few minutes, delivered their vere dictum by
their foreman in the following form.

*'As soon as the robbery was bruited about, and even
before the Sergeants-at-Arms were empowered to make inquiry
for the offenders, William of the Palace quitted Westminster,
and repaired into the City of London. Furthermore, when his
house was searched by the Sergeants-at-Arms, there was found
hid in the dove-cote, a gold macer,^ and a broken reliquary in
the shape of a cross, both of which we have been told came
oiit of the King's treasury.

" ' Furthermore,' continued the foreman of the Jury, * the
culprit is idle, he is a glutton, he is a drunkard, he borroweth
and payeth not, he kecpeth company with suspicious persons,
he diceth, he sweareth, he haunteth taverns, he rioteth, he
liveth much above his means, and therefore we say with one
accord that the ^irisoner at the bar is guilty of the robbery of
the King's treasury.' "

Edward. — But what had all that about his dicing
and drinking to do with it ?

Mr, L. — Nothing according to our notions, except as
giving him a bad character.

Herbert, — And what became of him ?

Mr, L. — He would have been hung, only he had fled
into Church land, and had been enticed from thence.
So instead of being put to death he was banished.

* A cup.

WE LIVE UNDER. 27

Edward, — And that was the way the juries went on.
They really were witnesses.

Mr, L, — So it was, up to the time of the Tudor
kings, when more of the present custom came into
force, the jury being intended to be men who can
decide honestly and impartially, after having heard
both sides, giving their verdict, that is, their vere dictum,
or true saying.

Albert, — Are they paid %

Mr. L, — Albert's favourite question! They only
have an allowance towards making up for their loss of
time, and to provide food and lodging while they are
in attendance on the Court.

John, — They are shut up till they give their verdict.

Mr. L, — They are kept out of reach of any one who
could bribe or threaten them, or confuse their minds.
This is very needful in cases where there is much
excitement, and where there is any doubt.

George, — They must say either Guilty or Not Guilty.

Mr, L. — In England they must; in Scotland they
can also say Not Proven.

Edward. — And cannot they recommend to mercy 1

Mr. L. — Yes, where they think there is any excuse
for the guilty person.

Herbert. — And who makes the jurymen ?

Mr. L. — Nobody exactly makes them, my boy.
Every man between the ages of twenty-one and sixty
who has property to a certain small amount may be
called on to serve in the jury, unless there be some
reason against him. Gentlemen are generally reserved
for special juries, which are asked for in difficult cases
requiring more than ordinary intelligence. The juries

28 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

are summoned in turn by officers appointed by the
High Sheriff of the county.

Edward, — Ah 1 what is he, sir ] I know Sir James
was once Sheriff.

Mr L. — The Sheriff or Shire Reeve (that is, judge)
is the officer appointed to see justice carried out. He
does not serve for life like the Lord Lieutenant, but is
pricked off every year. The names of three commoners
of sufficient landed estate are in turn presented to the
sovereign every year, and one of them is pricked off by
the Queen to serve as Sheriff.

George, — He has a beautiful carriage, and such a fine
coat !

Mr. L, — He used in rough times to have a hard time
of it, though. He had to get the persons together for
the courts of law, to provide for the safety of the judges,
to entertain them, and to take care that their sentences
were carried out. It was a very difficult thing to do
this when there were no roads, and the times were
lawless. But we will go more into that when we come
to the assizes. I will only say now that the Sheriff's
officers summon persons to serve as jurymen, and they
are sworn in by the Clerk of the Court to do their
duty, to God, the Queen, and the prisoner, and a very
solemn duty it is.

John, — There are juries for a crowner's inquest too,
when there is a sudden death.

Edward, — That is to make sure whether the person
came by his death fairly.

John, — But what is the Crowner ]

Edward, — Coroner, you mean.

Mr, L, — The Coroner is a person appointed by

WE LIVE UNDER. 29

Corona, the Crown, to direct the inquiry. The twelve
jurymen decide, but the Coroner manages the inquiry,
and assists them to make up their minds, and see the
bearings of the case, since it often would be very diflS-
cult for unlearned persons to judge whether there be
reason to send up a suspected person for trial or not.
You see, the great point in our whole system is that
every one has some share in our execution of justice,
since it concerns all alike ; and all is done openly, not
in a corner.

30 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER V.

TOWN COUNCILS.

Edtoard. — You said, sir, it was not the same way of
governing in town and country.

Mr, L. — ^Not what is called local government ; that
is, government (in lesser matters) of the place itself.

George. — I know that there are Mayors and Corpora-
tions. My brother Bill's master at Carchester was
Mayor last year.

Herbert — And we have a picture of the Lord Mayor's
show at home. Hasn't he just about a fine coach 1

Mr. L. — I must go back a long way to tell you any
thing clearly about what is called municipal govern-
ment, from the old Latin word municipium.

Edward. — What does that mean, sir ?

Mr. L. — Mcenia meant walls or fortifications. Thence
munus meant an ofiice or post within those walls,
municipium was the place so defended, and also its
Government, and Municeps meant a man who had to
take a part in defending and managing a fortified city.

George. — I wish there were not so many Latin names.

Mr. L. — These names show when institutions began.
The Eomans, as you know, conquered great part of the
known world. Whenever they gained any land, they
set up cities which were subject to Rome, paying tribute

WE LIVE UNDER. 31

and obeying the governor in greater matters ; but in
lesser home concerns, ruling themselves by means of a
government after the fashion of Rome, by magistrates
elected by the free citizens. I think you can recollect
some instances of such government in the Book of Acts.

Edward, — Do you mean those magistrates at Philippi
who beat St. Paul and Silas, and then were afraid they
would complain ?

Mr. L. — That is a case in point. There were gener-
ally two chief magistrates like the consuls, and a council
to assist them. They had authority to put the laws in
force, except when a man was, like St. Paul, a Eoman
citizen, and could appeal to Eome; and they also
managed the raising of the money to be paid as tribute
to Rome, and what was wanted in the place itself to
keep up the public buildings and the fortifications, or
to pay for the public sports. Sometimes when there
were fierce untamed natives near, these citizens had to
defend themselves 'from attacks before the Roman
soldiers could come to their help, so that they kept up
their walls and gates, and every one knew something
of fighting.. Then when the wild German nations came
and overran the Roman Empire, these towns could
hold out against them. Wild men, with nothing but
spears, swords and axes, could not break through solid
well-guarded walls, and were generally willing to take
a present from the citizens, instead of plundering them.

Edward. — I see, the cities were safe while the country
was conquered.

Mr, L. — And when the Roman Empire had passed
away, there was already a self-government in the city
ready to go on, as before. We know all this from

32 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

history with regard to the great cities on the Continent,
and we are sure that it must have been thus with
London and York, and perhaps with other British
places which we know to have been Roman municipia.
Do you see what I mean, boys 1

John. — You mean, sir, that when the Saxons came,
these places shut their gates, and kept them out.

Mr. L. — Yes, London in especial was shut in by
rivers and bogs, and kept the Saxons out so well
that it never was taken into the kingdom of Essex ;
and though it owned Egbert and the rest as kings of
all England, they never lived there, nor had much
power in it. However, in four hundred years, plenty
of English gradually came into the town, and English
names came into use. Do you know what word
answers to municipium, Edward 1

Edward. — No, sir, unless it is burg or borough.

Mr. L. — Exactly so, Edward. Burg or hury, as you
know, comes at the end of many names.

Herbert. — Edinburgh.

George, — Canterbury.

Mr. L. — It means a fortress, and the old municeps
became a burgher or burgess. The chief magistrate
was called Port Gerefa, and by and by came to be
known by a Latin name meaning that he was the
greater (major) and was called mayor, but his council
still had a good old English name, the same indeed as
was given to the king's councillors, and they were
called Eldermen.

John. — Elders 1 Are Aldermen only elder men 1

Mr. L. — Yes, Elder, and therefore, it was presumed,
wiser. Other towns imitated this mode of govern-

WE LIVE UNDER. 33

ment, and besides, wherever a number of free trades-
men settled together, those of the same craft formed
themselves into a Guild or brotherhood. They held
together in one body, provided for one another's
widows and orphans, made rules about work and trade,
and stood by one another. A man had to be seven
years an apprentice, and more or fewer years a journey-
man, before he could become a master worker and a
full member of the Guild or Company.

Edward. — Then, I suppose, he had a house of his
own, and was a burgess]

Mr. L, — Exactly so. The City Companies of which
we still hear, such as the Company of Goldsmiths,
Fishmongers, Merchant Tailors, and the like, are these
old Guilds, though they have altered very much.
Each Guild had a banner of its own, and its own
festival day, and no one was allowed to practise the
trade in the City unless he had properly entered the
Guild, nor could a man pass from one trade to another.

George. — That was hard! I shouldn't like not to
change.

John. — Jack-of-all-trades> master of none.

Mr, L. — There *s some truth in both ways of looking

at it, but these unions made the old cities very strong

when they needed strength. They were like the bundle

of sticks in the fable, every man knew how to stand by

his fellow -man, so the townsmen could protect themselves.

When William the Conqueror came, there is a tradition

that a certain William with the Beard was Lord Mayor,

and kept him out of the City of London till he had

engaged to continue all the rights of the citizens. The

main body were burgesses, and the council were

c

34 TALfcS ABOUT THE LAWS

aldermen. Some aldermen in those times inherited
the ofl&ce, others had it by election by the burgesses,
but no measure could be determined without the con-
sent of all the burgesses, assembled in folk-moot, or
people's meeting. The aldermen chose the Lord Mayor
till 1272, when the burgesses set their heart on choosing
a certain Walter Hervey, and succeeded in getting the
right of election into their hands.

Herbert, — The Lord Mayor of London is a very great
man indeed, is he not ?

Mr, L. — Very great; but there have been great
changes in all these towns. I should have told you
that they were divided into wards, and that the bur-
gesses in these elected their aldermen; but as trade
extended, and there were new inventions of all kinds,
the old rules as to the burgess being a born citizen or
a member of a guild would no longer work properly,
and for this and other causes the whole municipal sys-
tem in London and other towns was freshly arranged
by Act of Parliament in 1835.

Albert, — Then what have aldermen to do 1 I thought
they only ate turtle soup 1

Mr, L, — They got the credit of that, because there
was and still is plenty of good eating at the great
festivals of the Companies and at the Lord Mayor's
banquet. You see, in old times, they were for the
most part men of little education, who had made their
own fortune, and had little notion of any pleasure but
eating and drinking, and so they became a ,proverb
for gormandising. No one whose mind has been opened
to better things has any excuse for caring only for such
low enjoyments.

WE LIVE UNDER. 35

George. — But they do have great feastings still ?

Mr. L. — yes. It is part of the Lord Mayor's
business to entertain royal guests, foreign ambassadors,
all sorts of people of note. He manages the hospitality
of the richest city in Europe, and the Mansion House
is lent to him, and a sum allotted for the purpose of
giving such entertainments, so that they are part of
his duty. But that is not at all the same thing as
feeding full and high to please one's own appetite, or
as going to a great expense out of personal vanity and
love of display.

Albert. — But what else do they do 1

Mr. L. — They manage the affairs of the City, and
these are very considerable, as you may suppose when
you think what it must be to arrange for the lighting
of such a place, for keeping the bridges and pavement
in repair, and a thousand other things. Then the City
police are under their control and payment, and they
have to regulate the rates by which all this is done.

George. — There's a good deal there besides eating
turtle soup?

Mr. L. — I should think so. Besides, they have to
act as magistrates, and try minor offences, with sheriffs
to see that the law is executed. Did any of you ever
see that series of prints of the progress of the indus-
trious and idle apprentices designed by Hogarth a
hundred years ago ? They are in an old volume of the
Fenny Magazine in the Lending Library.

Johri. — yes ; but it is almost worn out.

George. — ^The good apprentice came to be Lord
Mayor.

John, — And the bad one was hung.

36 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

George, — Don't you remember the picture where the
good apprentice is putting his hand over his eyes,
shocked-like, when the other is brought up before him 1
He has a fine gown and chain.

Mr. L, — Aldermen wear scarlet gowns as badges of
office, and mayors (as well as chief-justices) a beautiful
gold collar, called a collar of SS. I believe nobody
knows whether the SS are not merely the natural
shape of the links, which are like the letter S, but
there is a pretty story that when Henry of Lancaster
(afterwards Henry iv.) was sent into banishment he
gave his friends a little jewel like a forget-me-not with
the letters SS from the French — Se Souvenir (remem-
ber one's-self).

John. — Other towns besides London have mayors.

Mr. L. — All towns which have either inherited or
obtained a municipal corporation — ^in fact, all that are
large enough to require regulations as towns instead of
being dealt with as part of a county. I should say
that they all have — besides their corporation — borough
magistrates or justices of the peace, but these are
selected by the Lord Chancellor instead of the Lord-
Lieutenant; and they also have a magistrate called
the Recorder, a lawyer by profession, who, at Quarter
Sessions, takes the management of their court, as does the
chairman of the justices of the peace in county matters.

Edward. — And their court is called the Guildhall, is
it not, after the old guilds 1 Are there any guilds now
except the London Companies ?

Mr. L. — I think not in England, except of course
those religious guilds, which have nothing to do with
trade.

WE LIVE UNDER. 37

Edward, — How does a man become a burgess, and
be able to choose aldermen and mayors 1

Mr, L. — Now only by living a certain length of time
in a house in the ward and paying a certain amount of
rates. Any man who does his work well, makes him-
self useful, and wins regard and respect, may rise to
any station in this country. No one knows to what
station God will call him. But mind, these posts are
not given for the sake of raising the holder, but of
making him work hard for the welfare of others.
Every one of them is full of toil, and the cost of bearing
them is far more than the gain, so far as money goes.

Edward. — The toil is the honour, I suppose %

Mr, L. — Exactly. These oflSces are honourable, be-
cause they give the opportunity of being valuable in
serving one's native place, one's people, country, and
Queen.

38 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER -VI.

SOLICITORS.

Herbert. — Look out 1 Here *8 Albert come back from
the Quarter Sessions.

George. — Hollo, Albert, how 's the watch 1

Albert. — The watch is aU right, only Granny won't
let me have it, though she will only get it stolen again,
I tell her.

John. — It would be so much safer with a steady-
going chap like you !

Albert. — Hold your tongue, I *m not going to stand
more of that —

Edward. — Come, come, Albert, never mind him, but
tell us about the Sessions. What did they do to- the
fellow ?

Albert. — He has only got three months in gaol, and
they never tried him after all.

Edward. — Come, come, Albert, how could he get three
months if he was not tried 1

Albert. — Not for my watch, I mean — I say it was a
shame, and it was put in the paper — what do you call
it]

Edwwd. — The indictment.

WE LIVE UNDER. 39

Mr. L, — The indite-ment, you should pronounce it,
Edward. I suppose the man was summoned on two
indictments, the first and heaviest for Mrs. Gyon's
cheese and window, the second for your grandmother's
watch, and if he had not been convicted for the first,
he would then have been put on his trial for the other.

Albert. — ^But it was ever so much worse to steal a
real silver watch than a musty old bit of mouldy cheese.
The jury had it up, and smelt to it all round, and didn't
they make faces ?

Mr. L. — Yes, but the man broke a window to get at
the cheese, and he only walked in at the open door to
get at the watch.

Albert. — Well ! I say it is a shame. Now he won't
be punished at all for my watch.

Edwa/rd. — Perhaps the judge, no — the chairman
considered it in his sentence, and made it the heavier.

Albert. — And then that such a blackguard as that
should have his lawyer to get him off !

George. — Did he ]

Albert. — Oh yes, he has got two sisters, it seems, and
they clubbed their money, and must needs have their
lawyer. There was one in a wig and one witness, and
the one in a wig made ever such a work about the
time of day, and whether Mrs. Gyon could swear that
the window was shut, and hadn't a pane broken, till
she was so put about, she hardly knew what she was
saying ; and he pretty nigh got the jury to think the
man had done nothing, only put in his hand in a
promiscuous sort of way. Only then Sir James — ^he
put it straight again.

Mr. L.— The Chairman, in his summing up—

40 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Albert, — Yes, but why should the fellow have had a
man like a guy in his black gown and wig to get him
off—

Mr, L. — Suppose, Albert : 1 'm only supposing that
Mrs. Acton, who saw you kicking your heels on the
top of her wall the other day, took it into her head
that you had carried off the new spade which I hear is
missing ?

Albert. — Oh, that's quite a different thing. Every
one would know I wouldn't go for to do such a thing.

Mr, L. — Suppose the policeman found it in your
back shed %

Albert. — It wouldn't be there.

Mr. L. — Perhaps the thief, being pursued, hid it
there —

Albert, — He hasn't ! You don't mean that he has,
sir.

Mr, L, — No, no, don't be frightened, Albert. I am
only putting a case, that appearances were so much
.against you that you were brought up for trial.
I think you would be glad of some one to speak for
you, and find out where there was any flaw in the
seeming proof against you.

Albert, — ^But I should be innocent.

Mr, L, — The Law of England treats every one as
innocent till he is proved to be guilty.

Albert.— WhBX, that fellow ]

Edward. — It is of no use trying to make Albert put
himself in another man's place.

George. — But, sir, I 've heard folks say lawyers are all
rogues, and there ought not to be any.

Mr. L. — Very charitable people they must be.

WE LIVE UNDER. 41

Herbert. — But what 's the use of them ]

Albert, — To get rogues off their punishment.

George. — I thought it was to breed quarrels and get
their profit out of it.

JoJm. — Oh ! that 's the lawyers who don't have wigs
who do that, the attorneys.

Albert. — I'm sure it was a chap in a long black
gown and grey wig, just like our jackdaw, who spoke
for that thief.

Mr. L. — Well, boys, you are in a fine state of
confusion ! All that you seem to have ascertained is
that there are two species of lawyers, one wigged and
the other unwigged.

Edward. — Is that so, sir 1

Mr, L. — Well, it may pass as a general rule. Can
you contribute any more information %

John. — It is the unwigged ones that are called
attorneys. They live in the country towns, for I know
at Carchester there 's a house with Black and White on
the door-plate, and one of them came down to make
old Mrs. Grey's will.

Mr. L. — We begin to see a little daylight. The fact
is that attorneys are managers of law business for other
people. Look up the word in the dictionary, Edward.

Edward. — " Such a person as by consent, command-
ment, or request, takes heed, sees- and takes upon him
the charge of other men's business." It is said to come
from an old French word (attomer), meaning to direct
or prepare.

Mr. L. — Now the Law is a very difficult subject, so
difficult that nobody can understand it, in even one or
two of its branches, without being trained on purpose.

42 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Albert. — But why, sir 1 Every one knows that if
you kill a man, you must be hung, and if you steal, yoa
must go to prison.

Mr, L, — For how long, Albert 1

Albert, — Well, that 's according to —

Mr. L. — Exactly, a lawyer knows what degree of
punishment belongs to each offence. However, attorneys,
as they used to be called, but now solicitors, have not
in general much to do with criminal law, except that
when the prisoner is going to have a counsel, an attorney
is employed to engage the counsel to find witnesses for
him, and draw up the brief which gives him knowledge
of the case.

George, — Can't the man do that for himself]

John, — What, when he is in prison 1

Mr, L. — Besides, the practice of employing attorneys
began long ago, when the prisoner was very likely to
be quite ignorant.

Edward. — ^And I suppose the attorney would know
who was the best counsel to engage, when the prisoner
could not tell.

Albert. — The counsel is the chap in the wig that
speaks for the prisoner.

Mr, L, — For, or against, as the case may be. Those
counsel are properly called barristers; they have a special
training, and I will tell you about them by and by.

George. — Then attorneys don't turn into bar — what
do you call them ?

Mr. L. — Oh, no. Their whole preparation is differ-
ent. A solicitor begins by being a clerk in another
solicitor's office. If he means to rise into practice he
is made a sort of apprentice, on paying a fee, and he ift

WE LIVE UNDER. 43

called an articled clerk, copying papers and going
through a course of study of the branch he wants to.
practise. By and by, he passes three public examina-
tions, and is put on the roll as qualified to practise.

Edward, — Then, what has he to do 1

Mr. L. — He is ready to undertake almost any kind
of business which people cannot safely do for themselves
without knowledge of the law. I do not only mean
the criminal law, which Albert thinks so simple, but
the law of property.

George, — What is that, sir 1

Mr.L, — The laws which define every one's just rights.
For instance, every one does not know that if a man
dies without a will, if he has any freehold property it
must go to his eldest son, but of all the rest of his
money and goods, his widow has a third and the
children equal shares. And there are hundreds of
questions and claims on which people want advice.
Or when wills are made, or agreements drawn up, a
little mistake may lead to such confusion that it is
wiser to put them into the hands of a person who
knows the right form in which to express them, and
can show us the proper way of getting them signed.

John, — Don't you remember how poor Mrs. Hurst
was disappointed of her old master's legacy, all because
he had made his will himself, and not got it properly
witnessed 1 So it was no good.

Albert, — That was very hard 1

Mr, i. — It would often be harder if wills were not
witnessed by those who have no interest in them^
because it would be easier to forge them, or for bad
people to torment a poor sick man into signing what he

44 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

did not wish. However, you see how things may go
wrong for want of advice from one who understands
the suhject.

JoJm. — But don't attorneys get people to go to law,
that they may get fees !

Mr. L. — It is quite possible that attorneys may
sometimes encourage people to try a case instead of
coming to an agreement when they might do so ; and
their fees are sometimes very heavy. But there are a
great many good, high-minded men among them, who
would much rather hinder disputes than promote them.

Edward. — Is not a solicitor a good sort of attorney ]

Mr. L. — I believe that the distinction used to be
that solicitors were appointed under the authority of
the Courts of Chancery, attorneys under the common
law courts. And as some attorneys were engaged in a
low style of criminal and other business, the name has
fallen into a certain amount of disrepute. Since the
changes made a short time since, all persons regularly
admitted to practise are called solicitors.

Edward. — Is not there a great Solicitor-General 1

Mr. L. — Yes, but he is not a great solicitor by any
means. He is a barrister who is appointed to manage the
law business of the state, and so is the Attorney-General.

John. — Then cannot a solicitor rise to be anything
else?

Mr. L. — Coroners are generally taken from among
solicitors, and there are a good many offices that they
can hold, such as being magistrates' clerks, registrars,
and the like ; but they are generally much better paid
than barristers in their early years. Their training
costs much less, and they generally work up into a

WE LIVE UNDER. 45

partnership. Their regular fee is a remnant of old
times, when it used to be a mark. Do you know how
much it was 1

Edward. — Was it not the third of a pound, six
shillings and eightpence ?

Mr. L. — Yes, There is an absurd story made up by
a wag in London that when the lawyers became volun-
teers, and were being exercised, when the order was
given, " Prepare to charge," they all took out account-
books and pens, and when the oflScer called out
" Charge," they all wrote down six shillings and eight-
pence.

George. — I suppose they do charge pretty handsomely
anyway !

John, — Is there any way to tackle a cheating
attorney ?

George. — Johnnie is awfully afraid of being done out
of his fine estate !

«

Mr. L. — Well, Johnnie, if a solicitor sends you in
an unreasonable bill of costs, you can get it taxed and
reduced, or if one is detected in flagrant dishonesty he
can be struck off the roll, and made unable to practise
any more.

Edward. — Solicitors are not magistrates then, or
paid out of the taxes 1

Mr. L. — No, unless they hold ofiices under the
Government, which then pays them for their work just
as a private person would. There are legal clerkships,
and such offices which they can hold.

Edward. — A clerk seems to mean all sorts of things.
There are parish clerks, and bankers' clerks.

Mr, L. — Clerk properly is short for Clericus, belong-

46 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

ing to the clergy. If the Vicar had to sign a law
paper he would describe himself on it as a clerk in
Holy Orders.

George, — But I 'm sure those clerks at Carchester have
not a bit of the parson about them.

Mr, L. — Certainly not. But there was a time when
few but clergy could read or write, so that the very
fact of knowing letters was held to show that a man
was in some way connected with the clergy. So all
who read and wrote were termed clerks. Do you
remember, Edward, the cause of the quarrel between
Henry ii. and Archbishop Becket ?

Edward. — The King wanted to be able to bring the
clergy before courts of law like other people. I re-
member the histories say that all sorts of people, who
were not priests or monks at all, got off in that way.

Mr. L, — As clerks. The privilege was called
"benefit of clergy," and by Becket's resistance was
quite established. Men used to learn a verse or two
of a Psalm, and pretend to read it, if they were in
danger of death from the law. This was called the
neck-verse. If you read Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel
you will see that the Borderer said

" Letter or line know T never a one,
Were't my neck- verse at Harribee,"

#

which was the place where Border thieves were tried
and hung. Here is an extract to show you how this
appeal used to be made in the time of Henry ill. The
criminal had been taken in the act of cutting a purse
from the girdle of the Bishop of Winchester's Vicar-
General, and was being dragged to the gallows :

WE LIVE UNDER. 47

" He cluDg to the pillar which divided the portal, shrieking
* I demand of Holy Church the benefit of my clergy.'

« The kind-hearted Vicar- General had evidently been much
jarred and troubled at his enforced participation in the con-
demnation of the criminal. Producing his Breviary, he held
the page close to the eyes of the kneeling prisoner ; he inclined
his ear. The bloodless lips of the ghastly caitiff were seen to
quiver.

*' * Legit ut clericus ' (he reads like a clerk) exclaimed the
Vicar-General, and this declaration at once freed the felon from
death, though not from captivity. 'Take him home to the
pit,' said the Vicar-General, * where, shut out from the light
of day and the air of heaven, he will be bound in irou, fed with
the bread of tribulation, and drinking the water of sorrow,
until his sufferings have atoned for his misdeed, and expiated
his shame.' " ^

George. — He was not much better off then than he
would be now.

Mr, L, — Rather worse, I suppose..

Albert. — But people don't get off in that way now.

Mr, L. — ^No. As reading grew more common the
words "without benefit of clergy" were added to
statutes against different crimes, up to 1827, when an
Act was passed abolishing the privilege.

1 Sir P. Palgrave's Merchant aiid Friar.

48 TALKS ABOXJT THE LAWS

CHAPTER VII.

THE BAR.

George, — I do want to know how the swell lawyers
get these wigs.

Albert, — With the frizzle, and the curls, and the
little tails down behind. What are they made of?

Mr, L. — Horse hair, I believe. They used to be
powdered, but now they only are made to look as if
they were powdered.

Albert, — But what 's the use of them 1

Mr, L. — Such a wig was part of the ordinary dress of
a gentleman two hundred years ago. A square black
cap used to be the regular mark of an advocate, and
is so still in France, but I fancy it was found incon-
venient over the powdered wig. Now it is only put
on by a judge when he is going to pronounce sentence
of death. But the wigs have been retained to give
dignity and distinction. It is convenient to mark out
a barrister from a solicitor. The gowns are the tokens
of the rank the wearers have taken as students, and
show their right to plead causes in court.

Albert, — But why can't a man speak for himself?

Mr, L. — He may, but there is a saying that the man

WE LIVE UNDER. 49

who pleads his own cause has a fool for his client,
because in truth an amount of knowledge and habit is
needed which no untrained person can get up for the
occasion.

George, — And how does a man come to be one of
these lawyers 1

Mr. L. — First he has to finish his general education,
and then he enters himself at one of the Inns of Court.

Edward. — Where are they 1

Mr, L, — In London : Lincoln's Inn, Gray*s Inn, or
the Temple.

Ge(yrge. — What 's that 1

Mr, L. — In Crusading times there used to be an
order of monks, who were also knights bound to fight
for the Holy Sepulchre. They were called Knights
Templars, and had large possessions in many parts of
Europe, which were called after them. In the reign of
Edward ii., the Pope and the King of France cruelly de-
stroyed the whole Order, and their estates and houses
were seized. Their house and lands in London, still
bearing the name of the Temple, were bought to make
into inns, or lodging-places for students and practisers
of law. So were two large old houses, called from
their owners* names Gray's Inn and Lincoln's Inn, and
these were afterwards called Inns of Court. No one
can be qualified to practise as an advocate till he has
spent a certain number of terms in studying Law (his
residence being marked by the number of dinners he
eats at his Inn), and passed an examination. Then he
is called to the bar, and is entitled to plead in Court.

George. — To the bar ! why, the prisoner is at the bar.
What is it 1

D

60 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Albert. — I saw it. It is a sort of railed-in place,
like the pens for cattle at market.

Mr. L. — Well, his counsel or advocate stands out-
side the bar to plead for him, and is therefore known
as a barrister.

Edward, — I saw something about the bar the other
day in a newspaper, and could not make out what
it meant, for it seemed to mean a whole lot of
people.

Mr. L. — All these barristers are spoken of together
as the Bar.

Albert. — And it is they who do all the talking in
Court.

Mr. L. — If you leave out the replies of the witnesses
and the Judge's charge.

Albert. — And then they get paid.

Mr. L. — It is often a long time before their earnings
begin. They must become known first, and sometimes
they have years to wait before they get a brief. In
France, in the great Court of Justice at Paris, there is
a large hall, where the lawyers, freshly licensed to be
advocates, walk up and down waiting for employment,
and somebody has given it the title of ** the Hall of
Wasted Steps."

Edward. — How do they come to getting on at
lastl

Mr. L. — They gain some knowledge of the way of pro-
ceeding by looking on, and they become known. Then
there are a great many criminal trials where the prisoner
is too poor to employ a counsel. And the Judge sets
one of these unemployed barristers to act for him, and
plead his cause. Thus the prisoner is not prevented

WE LIVE UNDER. 51

by poverty from having his defence made for him;
and though the counsel is not paid, he has the benefit
of getting into the habit of examining witnesses, and
of showing what he can do, so as to make himself known
to the solicitors who frequent the Court Then they
recommend him to their clients.

John, — I can't think how a man can stand up to
defend a thief or a murderer.

Mr, L, — Stay, John. The prisoner is not proved to
have done the deed till he is convicted. If he plead
guilty there is no trial. The counsel does not defend
him for having committed the crime, you understand ;
he is only bound to try to prove either that the man did
not do it at all, or that the oflfence does not come under
the law. The counsel for the prosecution has to do all
he can to bring the crime home to the prisoner; the
counsel for the defence does his best to show that the
proof is not sufficient for the conviction.

John. — But if he knows the man did it ?

Mr, L, — He has no means of knowing, any more
than the rest of the Court.

John. — Not if the man told him ?

Mr. L. — If the prisoner did so, he would be bound
in honour to throw up his brief, but in point of fact he
hardly ever has any intercourse with the prisoner. If
he be engaged beforehand, it is the attorney who has
consulted with the prisoner, and who instructs him
what points may tell in his favour and should be
brought out in examining the witnesses. If he be
appointed by the Judge, he knows nothing beforehand,
but he has to watch and catch hold of any weak point
in the evidence drawn out by the other counsel, and

52 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

make his defence from that, and any witnesses who
may have come to speak for the prisoner.

Edward, — So that an innocent man may have every
chance of being proved to be all right.

Albert. — But the guilty ones get every chance of
getting off.

Mr, L, — It is said that an innocent person very
seldom gets convicted, and though a few guilty persons
may, as it were, slip through the net, yet not in any
such number as to be any encouragement to crime.
But the work of a barrister is by no means only with
the criminal law.

Edward, — There are law-suits.

Gecyrge. — Farmer Gregory had a great law-suit with
Miller White about the turning on the water to his
meadows.

Mr, L, — I remember. The only way in which it
could be finally settled was by going to law, so that
the rights of each party could be sifted.

Herbert. — What was it about ]

George, — Why, you know the Gregories live higher
up the stream than the mill, and when they turn the
water into their new meadows, the mill won't work.

Herbeoi, — And what happened 1

George, — Well, I know Lawyer Price and Lawyer
Gould went about looking for all the oldest folk about
and asking them questions, and the old papers were
routed out — and — and a lot of them had to go up to
Carchester — and the farmer had to pay down ever so
much money —

Mr, L, — Rather confused, but I can tell you a little
more about it, for my brother was a clerk in Mr.

WE LIVE UNDER. 53

Price's office, and he got me into Court to hear the
speeches. It all turned on the old customs and rights
of the place, which had been forgotten during the forty
or fifty years that those fields had been differently
used, and also on the laws of property. The two
attorneys on either side found out what evidence there
had been, then each drew up a brief, explaining the
chief ai'guments on his own side, and what evidence
there was to support them. Then three barristers
were engaged on either side, and the case came on in
court. The witnesses on the miller's side were examined
first by his counsel, as he was plaintiff, that is, he
complained. Then the farmer's counsel cross-examined
them, to see whether what they said could be understood
in any other way. The same thing was gone through
with the farmer's witnesses, for the defence. Then
each leading counsel made a speech, giving to the full
what he had to say for his own cause, and then the
Judge summed up, trying to set everything as fairly as
possible before the jury.

Edward, — And how did it turn out 1

Mr, L. — That there are certain seasons in the year,
when, after due notice to the miller, the farmer may
turn the water on his meadows, and keep it for a
fortnight, but no more, and that he had certainly not
been right in taking it whenever he chose, without
consent. That was the reason he had to pay such
heavy damages.

Edward. — I see it must be the fairest way to get
things settled to have them argued out before people
who come down as strangers, and have no interest one
way or the other.

^4 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Albert. — ^But the lawyers get a heap of money.

Mr. L. — Each party naturally wishes to get the best
speaker and cleverest examiner on his own side. So
there is a great competition for all the most famous
lawyers, and large sums are paid beforehand, and
called retaining fees, to prevent them firom being
engaged by any one else. ,

Albert. — Then they make a good thing out of it I

Mr. L. — If they become famous, but you must
remember that they have had a costly education at their
. own expense, and have had to wait for years, and to
go on the circuits without gaining anything like enough
to pay their expenses. And when they get into good
practice they have infinite trouble, often lasting far into
the night, in getting up their cases, and in finding out
all the information that can bear on them. My brother,
after he went to London, often said he never knew a
day labourer work so hard as Sir Henry, whose clerk
lio was —

Edward. — But then they may come to be very great
men, may they not )

Mr. i. — Yes. They have studied the principles
(>f law, and got real experience, you see ; so all the
Law Officers of State are chosen from among them.
Some are made Queen's Counsel and wear silk gowns.
Then, from the bar, are taken the Eecorders of towns,
whom I mentioned before, and others are made Judges
in county courts^ or police magistrates^

Alhi^ri. — Those are paid.

Mr. Ls — Yes; Y^ou see they give up their practice
as barristers^ and all their fees, and their whole time is
spent iu this work, so it is right they should be paid.

WE LIVE UNDER. 55

For the most part the gentlemen who take these offices
are such as wish to have a certain income by the middle
of their lives, without the toil and labour and chances
of waiting for the higher prizes.

George, — ^And what are those 1

Mr. L, — ^There is the chance of being chosen Judges
in due time, for those who have shown the right quali-
fications for it. And there is, besides, the being made
Solicitor-General, and after that Attomey-GeneraL
The rank here is not as high as the Judges', but the
barristers who fill these offices are knighted, and they
may still take briefs as counsel, so that they obtain
large fees. The drawback is that they lose their offices
on a change of ministry. However, the Lord Chan-
cellor, who is the greatest of all the Officers of State,
is generally one who has been an Attorney-General.
This appointment depends on his politics too, but we
have said enough about lawyers for one day.

56 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER VIII.

PRISONS.

Herbert — Oh, here comes Johnny, he will tell us all
about it.

George. — Come on. Jack, what have you been doing 1

Mr, L. — Have you been playing the part of a hero,
John ]

John. — *Twas all father.

Albert — But what was it 1 How did you get the
fellow 1

Mr, L. — Cgme, try and tell us the story, John»

John, — Well, Mr. Drew sent father and me to drive
four score of lambs to the Eoundhill fair, and when
he had sold them, and we had given them over to Mr.
Beach's people, we were to take home a couple of pigs
that he had bought. The brutes gave us ever so much
more trouble than all the lambs put together, so that we
did not get back till after dark, and the mistress gave
us our supper. As we were going home up Chalk-pit
Lane, what should come galloping right past us but
master's horse 1 We knew him by the white mark on
his face, and his white stockings, but he went by
like a flash of light, and we couldn't stop him.
" Something 's up, Jack," says father, " come on ! " We

WE LIVE UNDER. 57

thought of course poor master had heen thrown, but
we hadn't gone far before old Trump gives a growl,
and we could just see that some one was on the ground,
and two fellows over him, at his pockets. I can
hardly say how it was, but father and Trump and I
all made at them at once, and gripped hold of one of the
rascals, but the other was making off at full speed, when,
as good luck would have it, he ran right upon young
Mr. Fred — he's a-courting, you know, and apt to come
in late — and hearing us halloo, he was ready for the
villain, and up with his big stick and laid hold on him.
We scarce knew what to do with these two fellows to
hold, and the poor farmer lying like one dead ; I think
one would have got away after all, if old Trump hadn't
gone at him like a good one, and set his teeth into him
as soon as he tried to shake off father ; and just then
Tom Walton and Frank Freeman and one or two
more came running down from the farm to see what
had become of master, the horse having got home. I
had lifted his head up, and he was coming to himself,
though a good deal dazed, for he had a pretty con-
siderable clip on the head, which had knocked him
off his horse, but he could walk home with a good deal
of help. And Mr. Fred got the two thieves tied
round the arms with a stout rope, and locked up in
the strong room, with one man to watch outside the
door with their Carlo, and me at the window with
Trump, while Ben rode off on horseback after the
doctor and the police. The doctor came first, and
said there was not much harm done, and indeed the
farmer is as well as ever to-day. Then .the police
came, the superintendent himself, with a trap. And I

58 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

found the fanner's watch on the road ; his purse had
fallen out on the road when we got hold of the man.
Mr. Fred, you see, wouldn't have them searched till
the police came, hut there were some pawnbrokers'
tickets that they think will lead to recovering more.

Herhert — And did you go in to give evidence ]

John, — Yes, this morning, before the Justices, and
Sir James spoke up and praised father and me, no end,
and said he was glad to find there was true IJnglish
pluck about here still. Father said he 'd only done
his duty, and Sir James said that was what be liked
to hear a brave man say.

George. — And are the rascals committed for trial 1

Jolm. — Yes, for the assizes, and father and I shall
have to go and give evidence.

Herbert, — Oh ! can't we all go and hear you 1

Albert. — I '11 go if I can anyhow get a holiday ! I
suppose no one offered to go bail for those chaps.

John. — I should think not !

Herbert. — What is going bail 1

Albert. — I know that, for there was some one who was
offering to go bail for a fellow who waa brought up the
day granny was up about the watch. It means that if
he is allowed to go free till his trial, there is security
given that he wiU come in quietly for it, and not cut
and run ; and if he does run, they that are his bail
have to pay a lot.

Mr. L. — Quite right, Albert. The amount of bail is
fixed by the degree of crime, and the previous character
of the prisoner. For if the sureties be not respectable, or
likely to possess the money they offer, or if the magistrate
does not trust the accused, the bail can be refused.

WE LIVE UNDER. 59

■

Edward, — It is only instead of being kept in prison
till the trial.

Mr. L. — That is no small boon to any man now, and in
former times prisons were unspeakably horrible placeSi

Albert, — ^They look bad enough now with their high
walls and iron windows.

Mr, L, — That 's the best side of them, no doubt, but
till within the last century and a half, you would
hardly believe what a state they were in. They were
in fact made over to the jailors to get what profit they
could out of them.

Edward, — Profit ! how was that to be got 1

Mr. L, — A prisoner who had any means of his own
was allowed to pay for having a room, a bed, and
tolerable food, all at an exorbitant rate. If not, he was
thrown into one common den, among prisoners of all
descriptions, with filthy straw to sleep upon, wretched
and scanty food, no change of clothes, living a horrible
life, often quite savage. Debtors were mixed up with
criminals, and every one must have grown more
intensely wicked. Then there was such want that
the poor wretches used to hang bags by a string out
at the window to angle for the pence of kind passers
by in the streets. Here is a bit of description from
Goldsmith^s Ficar of Wakefield, It was written about
one hundred and twenty years ago. Dr. Primrose, the
speaker, is a good clergyman who had been cruelly
cheated and thrown into prison for debt.

Edward, — But are people imprisoned for debt ]

Mr, L. — Not now, but they were then.

**I expected," says the Vicar, "upon my entrance to find
nothing but lamentations and various sounds of misery, but it

60 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

was very different. The prisoners seemed all employed in one
common design, that of forgetting thought in merriment or
clamour. I was apprised of the usual perquisite required upon
these occasions, and immediately complied with the demand,
though the little money I had was near being exhausted.
This was immediately sent away for liquor, and the whole
prison was soon filled with riot, laughter, and profaneness."

At night the Vicar was locked up in a cell paved
with stone, with a bundle of straw to sleep on ; but
the next day, on paying the jailer, he was allowed to
have a better bed, and a second on which his three
sons were allowed to sleep. He found the profanity
and wickedness of the other prisoners fearful, but he
tried to do what he could for them, and read them a
part of the service. "Low whispers, groans of contri-
tion burlesqued, winking and coughing, alternately
excited laughter." He made them a discourse, but
they only mocked. One stole his spectacles, another
changed his Prayer-book for a profane jest-book, and
nothing could seem more hopeless, but the good man
persevered, and by the end of a week, he says all were
attentive, some contrite.

John. — But was it true, sir ]

Mi\ L, — I have no doubt it was taken from the
truth. It was at this very time that Sir James Ogle-
thorpe, a Member of Parliament, known to Dr. Gold-
smith, was trying to improve the state of prisons.
Large sums were paid for the governorship of such places
as Newgate, or the Fleet, the governor repaying him-
self by what he could squeeze out of his prisoners.
Some captains of Newgate used to let their thieves go
out and practise their vocation, getting a share of the
profits. The prison-dues were high, and often when a

WE LIVE UNDER. 61

prisoner was acquitted, he was not set free because he
had not the means of paying them.

Boys,— Oh. !

Mr, L, — I have read of it, both in London and at
York. Besides, all the horrible filth and neglect bred
a disease called gaol-fever, a sort of typhus, I suppose,
for once or twice at the assizes the infection spread,
and a Judge and several of the jury died of it. I
remember my mother had an old book of Mrs. Hannah
More*s, Cheap Repository Tracts, where the bad boy
goes to prison, and, as a matter of course, has gaol-
fever. There is a picture of him being carried about
in a chair, having lost the use of his limbs. That was
about the year 1795.

Edward. — Surely I have heard of one Mr. Howard,
who tried to mend matters.

Mr. L. — John Howard, called the philanthropist.
Yes, he was born in 1726, and he and Oglethorpe
together did their utmost. Some of the governors of
gaols were arrested, and made to answer for their mis-
demeanours, and in 1774 a bill was carried through
Parliament putting an end to the taking fees from
prisoners, and providing for moderate cleanliness and
decent attention to health. Even then, it was most
difficult to get these rules enforced by magistrates, and
Howard, after visiting many of the prisons on the
Continent, found that the Dutch were the only nation
who had any notion that prisoners might be reformed,
instead of merely punished. Some day you must read
an account of his exertions to improve prisons and
hospitals, and to rouse those who had the care of them
to some sense of duty. He died in 1790, and from that

62 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

time things began to mend, though Sir Walter Scott
shows up a dreadful Scottish gaol in his Guy Manner-
ing, just about that time. It was about 1 800 that the
first book of prayers to be used with prisoners was
written by a clergyman-magistrate, another sign of
improvement, but even then the tried and untried were
all mixed up together.

John, — That must have been awful for a man who
had got taken up by mistake.

Mr, L. — Yes, it was nearly certain to make him a
felon, if he were not so already. But there was a
spark of light shining where no one would have ex-
pected it. A dressmaker in a humble way at Great Yar-
mouth in 1819 heard of a woman who had been put in
prison for cruelly beating her child. Sarah Martin, the
dressmaker, obtained leave to visit her, and found it
possible to touch her h^art and bring her to tears of
repentance as she listened to the 23d chapter of St.
Luke. This led to her going constantly among the
prisoners, giving up one day every week from her work.

Albert, — How could she afford it ?

Mr. L. — She did it in faith, and she declared that
she had never felt the loss. She taught the prisoners
to hold a Sunday service, the best instructe'd reading
to the rest, and she conducted one in the afternoon
herself. For three years she went on with no help at
all. Then a lady gave her some money with which to
buy Bibles and Testaments, and afterwards enabled her
to give up another day in the week to instruct her
prisoners.

Edward. — Men and all ! I wonder it was safe for
her to go among such roughs.

WE LIVE UNDER. 63

Mr, L, — No one ever behaved amiss to her. A bad
turnkey gave her more trouble than all the prisoners.
Bad language was hushed before her, and if a man
attempted to be noisy or abusive the others put him
down at once.

George. — Well, you see she did it freely and all for
nothing, and they knew it.

Mr. L. — True ; it had a great effect on them. She
also taught some to work, and put others in the way
of practising their handicrafts, so that she was able to
sell what they made, and procure clothing for them.
Other changes came gradually ; the dirt and filth were
removed ; and at last the magistrates, struck by what
this one woman had effected, insisted on giving her a
salary. She was most unwilling to take it, as she thought
that the prisoners would look on her as an official, but
one magistrate told her that she would not be allowed
to visit the gaol except on their terms. Then she felt
the matter taken out of her hands, and submitted.

Albert. — How much was it 1

Mr. L. — Twelve pounds a year.

Boys.— Oh. !

John. — ^Why, my sister has sixteen as housemaid.

Mr. L. — Wages have risen since 1841, when this
happened. Twelve pounds would have been an upper
servant's wages, but most certainly, if Sarah, Martin was
to be paid at all, it should have been enough to support
her entirely. However, such an appointment was so ex-
traordinary that I have no doubt that it was timidity,
and dread of what would be said that withheld them.
She wanted nothing. She declared that she was as happy
in her work as an insect dancing in the sunbeam.

64 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

John. — How strange it seems; a good, quiet, nice
woman like that among such awful wicked rascals !

Albeii, — People of the preaching sort like holding
forth. I suppose she was like the Eanters.

Mr, L. — I believe she was a steady, quiet Church
woman, but her happiness was in the good she was
enabled to do and the blessing that made her labours
prosper. It was not long after her salary was given
that a lingering and fatal illness came on her, and she
died in 1843, after having spent her best years and
days in ministering to her prisoners.

Edward. — Did not Mrs. Fry do something like thati

Mr. L. — Yes. She was a Quaker lady, and con-
nected with members of Parliament, so that when she
visited the prisons in London and found out the frightful
state of the female prisoners, she was able £o call general
attention, and get improvements made. Some day, no
doubt, you will read for yourselves how when she went
in among a yard filled with poor wild creatures who
worked one another up to the most horrible violence,
her grand calm presence, her deep eloquent voice, and
above all, her looks of love, would seem to expel the
demons from among them, and the poor creatures
would crowd round her, gentle, subdued, weeping, and
ready to be trained for a new life. All this was making
Government and members of Parliament look into the
matter, but things could not be done quickly. In 1822
there was a Commission to revise the state of Prisons
and Prison law, and changes began to be made, the
first and most important of which was the sorting^ as it
were, of the prisoners, so that the debtors, the untried,
and the persons undergoing short sentences, were no

WE LIVE UNDER. 65

longer all thrown together. Also there were chaplains
for each gaol. Many small ill-managed prisons were
done away with, so that in 1835, instead of 170, there
were only 70. Visiting Justices go over the prisons
regularly, and the Secretary of State for the Home
Department has control over them. But I hear the
clock strike. It is time to break up.

fi

66 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTEE IX.

HABEAS CORPUS.

Albert — When will the assizes be 1

John. — ^Father and I have got a summons to be at
Carchester on the 12th.

Albert, — And then the rascals mmt be tried.

Mr, L, — ^Do you know why 1 Do you, Edward ?

Edward. — Well, sir, isn't it because of something
they call Habeas Corjpus ]

Herbert. — 1679. I learnt it in my dates.

Mr. L. — Did you learn any more about it 1

Herbert. — Something about an Englishman's liberty.
He can't go to gaol for nothing. Is that it, sir 1

Mr. L. — That is something like it, my boy, but not
much nearer than the old woman who said her son had
been taken up, but that one Mr. Areas Carcase had got
him released. Habeas Corpus are the words at the
beginning of a writ. You ought to be able to translate
them, Edward.

Edward. — Habeas is the second person singular,
potential mood, of Jiabeo, I have ; corpus must be body,

Mr, L. — "Thou mayest have his body;" it is
addressed to the person detaining another in custody,
and calls on him to produce the man, either for trial,
or, if his sentence be fulfilled, for release.

WE LIVE UNDER. 67

John, — But what is the use of it? Every one wants
rogues to be tried.

Mr, L, — Not so fast, John. There have been* times
when kings and great men thought it very desirable
to get an inconvenient person into prison, and keep
him there without having to render a reason for it.
Some of you have read history enough to give instances
of such imprisonments.

George. — Was not there Sir Walter Raleigh 1

Edward, — Oh yes, he was kept eighteen years under
sentence of death by James i. Then he was allowed to
make a voyage to America, and, because he.brought home
no gold, was seized and executed on the old sentence.

George, — And that could not happen now 1

Mr, L, — No. He would either be executed at once
or pardoned.

Edward, — And there were poor Lady Arabella
Stewart and her husband, who had only been married !

Mr, L, — There was nothing to try them for, except
that it was not counted lawful for a person of royal
blood to marry without the king's consent. There
were more than can be reckoned of such cases, of people
imprisoned on suspicion, or to keep them out of harm's
way, often merely to gratify the spite of an enemy.
In France, up to the time of the great Revolution, any
person might be imprisoned on the sole authority of a
sealed letter, a lettre de cachet as it was called, signed
by the king. Fathers would apply for one if their
sons displeased them, or wanted to marry against their
wishes, and the young men would be shut up in the
Bastile, the great State prison of Paris. Or people
supposed to be suspicious characters would be arrested

68 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

without ever knowing why, and thrown into prison,
where they were sometimes forgotten, and pined away
till death.

Edward, — Did not the people tear down the Bastile ]

Mr, L. — Yes ; but before that time things had so
much mended that though the law was not altered
there were only three prisoners there — one a poor old
man who had grown quite foolish, and longed for the
shelter of his cell. No one knew why or when he had
been sent there, or for what offence. Then there was a
count, a soldier, who had written pamphlets thought
dangerous in the last reign. He was in mere rags, and
his hair had all grown into one horrible tangle. And
the other was an Irish nobleman, who had been thought
likely not to pay his debts. As soon as he reached
England he fell down on his knees and kissed the soil
of the land of freedom.

John, — And this Habeas — what do you call it? —
hinders things like that from happening ?

Mr, L. — It was one of the first efforts of the Lons
Parliament to get such an Act passed ; but Charles i.
was very much averse to it, thinking that without the
imprisonment of dangerous persons, he would never be
able to keep up his authority or prevent rebellion.
But his imprisonment of Sir John Elliot, who died
during his detention, and who was a good man, much
respected and loved, had made the Commons deter-
mined to have some security, and there was a great
struggle.

Edward, — But Herbert was right when he said it was
not made law tiU 1679, and that was under Charles il

Mr, L, — All was null and void that the Parliament

WE LIVE UNDER. 69

did after the war began, and their Acts were not sanc-
tioned by the king; and the Act could not well be
passed till Charles ii. was firm upon his throne, and
all danger of civil war over for the present.

Edward, — Then what does the Act mean %

Mr. L, — It means that no one can be sent to prison
without having seen a magistrate, and that when he is
committed, he must be brought forward for trial at the
next court sitting after his committal, either the petty
sessions, the quarter sessions, or the assizes, according
to the offence.

fferberL — Is it only great offences that come to the
assizes 1

Mr. L. — No. A man accused of a petty offence is
tried at the assizes if there be no sessions between
his committal and the gaol-delivery. He is not kept
in prison a day longer than needful.

Edward. — Is not a trial sometimes put off 1

Mr. L. — If there be any real reason, such as the
need of bringing an important witness for the defence
home from a distant country ; but the prisoner must be
produced at the previous court, and either bailed or
sent back to prison. If there were to be neglect of
producing him, the prisoner himself, or some person on
his behalf, applies to the Lord Chancellor, or if in
vacation time to one of the Judges, and the writ of
habeas corpus is issued. He must be produced within
twenty days, and tried at the next assizes, or else
released, and a man once liberated by this writ is not
liable to be arrested again for the same offence.

Edward. — And a man cannot be tried twice over for
the same thing, can he %

70 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr, L, — No. If he have been acquitted once, the
Law considers him innocent, even if fresh evidence
may come out which makes his guilt certain.

George. — Is that fair ]

Mr. L, — It may prevent justice being done in one
case out of a thousand, but it is much better that it
should be so than that a person once acquitted should
be subject to the vexation of a fresh trial.

George. — Yes, it must be awful never to know when
it is all over.

Mr. L. — Then care is taken not to put a man on his
trial without a reasonable amount of evidence. The
Grand Jury have to find a true bill, that is to say, that
evidence has been put before them to show that there
are reasonable grounds why a person should be sent for
trial. A prisoner is also only tried on one indictment
at a time, though there may be several counts to the
indictment, namely, descriptions of the crime. Thus
one count might say that an assault was with intent to
murder, another count that it was with intent to do
violent bodily harm, another might call it a common
assault, and the Jury would say of which they con-
sidered the prisoner to be guilty.

Edward. — Have not I read somewhere that when a
man has once been found guilty, even if something comes
out that entirely clears him, he can only be pardoned ^

Mr. L, — True, the sentence cannot be reversed.
The Law is never to own itself in error. It is not
very long ago that a young man who had been con-
victed of a murder, but whose sentence had been cona-
muted to penal servitude, was released on the true
murderer making confession after four or five years.

WE LIVE UNDER. 71

George. — How lucky he had not been hung 1

Mr. L. — The evidence had been only circumstantial,
and in these days, a sentence of death is never carried
out, if there remains a shadow of doubt.

Herbert. — What is circumstantial evidence ?

Edward. — ^Why, if I found that window broken, and
found your ball inside, and had seen you outside play-
ing with it ten minutes before, that would be circum-
stantial evidence that you had broken it.

Herbert. — But it would not be seeing me do it.

Mr. L. — No, so it would not be the same as direct
evidence, though sometimes circumstantial evidence is
perfect ; as when footmarks are fitted to a boot, and
stolen goods found in the possession of the wearer.

John. — And that was the reason the man was not
hung.

Mr. L. — There was a much sadder case, I think,
about a hundred years ago. Two men, one a sailor,
slept in the same room at a small inn. In the morn-
ing the sailor, who, I think, had some money about
him, had disappeared, and from several suspicious cir-
cumstances, which I have read in one of Chambers's
Miscellanies, but I cannot now remember, his com-
panion was supposed to be the murderer. I think
there was blood on his clothes, which he said was
from a nose-bleeding. He was not believed, was found
guilty, and actually executed. Some years after, the
supposed victim came home from a voyage safe and
sound. He had been afraid of missing his ship, and
had got up in the night, and gone off quietly with his
bundle.

Herbert. — And the other man had been hung !

72 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr. L, — I believe it was this sad case which led to
the law being made that no trial for murder can take
place unless the corpse have actually been found, and a
coroner's inquest have returned a verdict upon it.

George. — So no one can be kept in prison without
being presented for trial longer than till the next
assizes.

Mr. L. — Except that in times of war and tumult the
Act of Habeas Corpus sometimes has to be suspended.
Thus at the time of the risings of 1715 and 1745,
many Jacobite gentlemen were arrested and kept in
pustody till the rebellion was over.

WE LIVE UNDER. 73

CHAPTER X.

ASSIZES.

George, — Here 's a question for you, Edward, as you
are so fond of law. Why are all the Judges the same
height 1

John.' — They are not. When I saw the Judges come
in, one was ever so much taller than the other.

George, — ^Yet they are alike. The master will tell
you so.

Mr, L, — Quite true, you rogue. They are all Judges
of a size.

Edward, — Oh, it is a riddle ! I thought so.

Mr, L. — And you thought it beneath your dignity to
guess it 1 Here is a story for you before we begin our
talk in earnest. Baron Alderson, one of the Judges,
who was one of the drollest and wittiest of men in
private life, as well as a great lawyer, and above all
a good and devout Christian, was once asked by a rather
foolish lady at an assize town, if he had been to see the
elephants at the wild beast show. " Why, no, ma'am,"
he said, " it was a question of precedence. We both
came into the town with trumpets, and there was a
difficulty which should make the first call."

John, — Oh yes, they come in with trumpets. The
High Sheriffs carriage meets them at the station,

74 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

and there are trumpets before them, and policemen with
javelins in their hands.

Mr, L, — Javelin men. In the olden times, the
Sheriff brought his armed retainers to protect the
Judges, and when there were no railroads, he had to
provide conveyance for them all through his county.
I have heard my grandfather tell how the javelin men
used to be the gamekeepers and such like, and men
from the parish or the Sheriff's estates. They wore
his colours, and had good coats given them which
lasted them for life.

Herbert. — It is a pity that does not go on now.

Mr, L. — I fancy the javelin men, having nothing to do
but to escort the Judges to court, were apt to get into
mischief, and that it was better to employ the police.

John. — The Judges go to the Cathedral first.

Mr. L. — Where there is one, or at any rate to the
chief Church, and there the Sheriff's chaplain preaches
a sermon. It is a very fitting custom thus to open so
solemn a proceeding with prayer and a meditation —
and happily a very incongruous practice has been
dropped of having a ball in the assize week. It used
to be thought an opportunity when there was a
gathering of the gentlemen of the county with their
families, and of the London lawyers, to have a ball, but,
in time, it was thought shocking to make amusement
out of a meeting to deal with the lives of men, and so
the custom was dropped in most if not in all towns.

Edward. — ^You were going to tell us, sir, the right
meaning of assize.

Mr. L. — It means a sitting. It is taken from the
old French word assise^ which comes from the Latin,

WB LIVE UNDER. 75

assideo, I sit at or with, I attend. So it is the sitting
in judgment in the King's Court.

Edward. — And when did assizes begin, sir 1

Mr. L. — The commencement of the regular assize
courts was in the 1 3th year of Edward I. When was
thai, Herbert 1

Herbert. — Edward I. began to reign in 1272. It was
in 1285.

Mr. L. — However, there were royal courts long
before. The king was and is the head of all judgment.
The earlier kings of small kingdoms administered
justice. Alfred did so, and the French long showed
the Oak of Vincennes, where their good St. Louis used
to administer justice. But as Moses was obliged to
appoint elders because the people were too many for
him, so deputy officers were needed to hear causes
in the king's stead. William the Conqueror brought
with him from Normandy the custom of having a
Lord Justiciary, who was either the highest, or the
second highest, subject in the kingdom.

Edward. — I suppose he was a lawyer.

Mr. L. — Oh no, he was a noble who did rough and
ready justice — or injustice — according to his own
notions, or the king's will. Indeed in ruder times he
had not much to do but to look on at the ordeals of
battle or hot iron, and then carry out the punishment
on the person who failed. However, as the ordeals
were discouraged, more learned Judges became neces-
sary, and in 1 1 1 8 —

Herbert, — That was in the time of Henry i. —

Mr. L. — The king and his justiciary appointed two
Judges who were to ride round the kingdom and hear

76 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

causes in the king's name. They were called Justices
Itinerant — you know the meaning of the word, Edward 1

Edward, — It means wandering, from the Latin iter,
a journey.

Mr, L, — The old French writers cut it down into
erre, and so these Judges were called for short, Justices
in Eyre, that is, on a journey ; and the Shire Reeves
had to take care of them. You know what history
books say of Henry L

Herbert. — That he let nobody break the laws but
himself.

Mr. L. — Then came the wild days of Stephen and
Maud, when all rule and law were forgotten, but Henry
II. loved order, and had an excellent Justiciary, Eanulf
de Glanville, who, though a noble, wrote the first law-
book in existence since the Conquest. The sending the
Justices round was fixed in his time, and there began
to be much more real study of Law. Then came
Magna Charta, by which the king was bound to appoint
only upright Judges. These Judges were found to
make the Grand Justiciary unnecessary, and he was
besides more powerful than was convenient to the kings,
so there was no fresh one appointed after Philip Basset
in 1261. In his stead, one Robert de Bruis was made
Chief Justice of the King's Bench.

Edward. — The King's Bench, I have heard of the
Queen's Bench, but I don't know what it means.

Mr. L. — Do you remember the pictures in "Old
England " which I have sometimes shown you, taken
from ancient manuscripts % Think of the throne. Or
rather here is the woodcut.

Herbert. — It is a sort of bench with lions' heads and
laws at the ends.

WE LIVE UNDER. -77

Mr, L. — Hear the description by the poet Cowper : —

•* Joint stools were then erected — on three legs
Upborne they stood, three legs upholding firm
A massy slab, in fashion square or round ;
On such a stool immortal Alfred sat
And swayed the sceptre of his infant realms.
At length a generation more refined
Improved the simple plan, made three legs four,
Gave them a twisted form vermicular.
And o'er the seat, with plenteous wadding stufifed,
Indued a splendid cover, green and blue,
Yellow and red, of tapestry richly >vrought."

George. — What 's that long word 1

Mr, L. — Vermicular — worm-like, twisted like a
serpent. You see the stool, or bench, was really the
place of dignity. Perhaps you may remember that it
is so used in the Psalms.

John. — ^*'Wilt thou have anything to do with the
stool of wickedness "I which imagineth mischief as a
law." That always did puzzle me. So it means the
throne of wickedness !

Edward. — And the King's Bench was really the
King's throne !

Mr, L. — Magna Charta stipulated that the tribunal
of the King's Bench should always sit at Westminster,
instead of moving about with the king — and if you
recollect what sort of a king John was, you will not
wonder —

Edward, — Certainly people could not have wished
to have him at their trials.

George, — Besides, they would not wish to travel
about after him.

Mr, L, — The Court of King's Bench was then the

78 TALKS ABOUT THK LAWS

principal seat of judgment, to which all appeals
came.

George, — What are appeals ?

Mr, L, — Suppose Edward there punished a boy in
his class, and the little lad thought it unfair, he
would come to me — that would be appealing. So
where the decision of an inferior court is of doubtful
justice, there is a right of appeal to the higher. At
this time, Law and its principles were being more and
more studied at the Universities, and thus the Judges
who represented the king were qualified doctors of
law, and generally in Holy Orders —

Herbert — You said most lawyers were at that time.

Mr. L. — ^Yes, I see in Dean Hook's Lives of the
Archbishops, he says he is afraid that the kings and
Court people used to pay their lawyers' fees with a
canonry or good benefice.

Edward. — Did lawyers cease to be all clergy at the
Reformation 1

Mr. L. — Before that, I imagine, for Sir John More,
father to the great Sir Thomas, was a Judge. I think
the habit of bringing men up to the law without mak-
ing them clergy came in when there was more educa-
tion in the latter part of the fifteenth century. But
to go back, Edward I. fixed the regular custom of the
Judges going on circuit, which has lasted ever since,
though with some few alterations. The person of, a
Judge on circuit is sacred, because he is the repre-
sentative of the person of the Sovereign. Each High
Sheriff has to receive and protect the Judges as soon
as they come into a county, and to guard them from
and to the court. It shows the English respect
for law, that all through the Civil Wars the Judges

WE LIVE UNDER. 79

made their circuits just as usual, and no one molested
them —

Frank. — ^What are the circuits ]

Mr, L. — The going round. There are certain dis-
tricts marked out ; they are the Home Circuit, which
is round London, the Northern, the Midland, Oxford,
Eastern, Western, and Welsh.

Herbert — And when do assize times come 1

Mr. L. — At first, when roads were mere ditches, and
travelling was done on horseback, it was hardly possible
for the Judges to go about except in fine weather. So
there were only two assize times. Lent and Midsummer,
and only now and then was there a special assize.
There was that terrible one of Judge Jeffreys, after the
Duke of Monmouth's rebellion.

Edward, — The Bloody Assize, when such dreadful
things were done at Taunton.

Mr. L. — There was another special assize to try the
rick-burners in the early years of William iv., and
another for the Kebecca riots in Wales. But you see
the year was very unequally divided —

Frank — Yes, if a poor chap got taken up just after
the summer assizes —

Mr. L. — And if the offence were too grave for the
Quarter Sessions —

Frank. — There he had to stay clapped up till Lent.

Herbert. — And that was pretty nearly punishment
enough in such prisons as Mr. Lamb told us about.

Mr. L. — So quite of late years there has been a
winter assize, and sometimes an autumn one, but only
one Judge comes instead of two, and it is only for
criminal trials. Matters of property can wait, but not
these weightier matters of guilt or innocence.

80 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Edward. — How many Judges are there ]

Mr, L. — I believe there are now thirteen, of the
Queen's Bench, Common Pleas, and Exchequer, which
are the names of the divisions of the Supreme Court of
Justice. The Lord Chief Justice is at their head.

Herbert, — ^And they all come round.

Mr. L. — Two Judges stay in London to attend to the
business that may come on there, and the circuits are
divided between the rest and the Lords Justices of
Appeal. They take their choice according to seniority,
on which circuit they will go, but no one Judge goes
the same circuit twice following; and the two who
go together sit alternately in the Crown and Civil
Courts, at each assize town on their way.

Albert, — Who pays them ]

Mr, L. — Your old question, Albert ! They have large
salaries from Government.

Albert. — They don't get anything by the cases they try ?

Mr, L. — Certainly not. No one but the Crown pays
them, or gives them anything, except that when some
happy place has no one in gaol for them to try, it is
called a maiden assize, and the Sheriff gives a pair
of white gloves.

Albert, — They mayn't take anything 1

Edward. — No indeed ! Then they would be taking
bribes.

John, — And not "truly and indifferently" ministering
justice.

Mr, L, — Yes. They are always chosen from among
barristers of high character, who would sooner touch
hot iron than stain their hands with bribery, but
the custom is very wise which pays such officers so

WE LIVE UNDER. 81

highly that there is hardly any temptation to accept
bribes. It has been one of the defects which has led to
the sad condition of Russia that all the officials were
underpaid, and so were tempted to accept bribes.

Frank — Who makes the Judges 1

Mr. L, — Government appoints them, and gives them
large salaries, as well as handsome retiring pensions.
It is a high position and a mark of great integrity and
wisdom to be an English Judge, and we have had many
very great and good men on the roll of our Judges.

Herbert — It is the Judges that wear wigs; I have seen
one in a picture at the Vicarage.

Mr. L. — Scarlet robes in the Criminal Court, and in
the Civil, grey robes with red silk facings, and flowing
wigs, like those worn in Queen Anne's time.

Albert. — What 's the good of dressing up 1

Mr, L. — A marked and distinctive dress is a kind of
subordinate support to a man who has special duties
to perform. The Judge's dress and the ceremony
surrounding him certainly impress both criminals and
spectators. I have heard that in America, where the
Judges wear ordinary coats, it is much more difficult
to keep the court orderly.

Herbert.— ^\i2X is the Civil Court 1

Mr. L. — Where cases about rights of property are
tried. It is also called the Nisi Prius Court.

Edward. — Does Nisi Prius mean "unless before "1

Mr. L. — Yes, it is the beginning of a writ requiring
the case to be tried by a jury, unless before the assizes
a Judge should have come — which he never does. It is
an old term which continues in use from habit. The
Crown Court tries criminals in Nid Prim civil cases.

F

82 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER XL

THE TRIAL.

George, — Is John come back 1

Frank — yes, and Herbert too. He got his
mother's leave to go in and see it.

George. — And what has the fellow got 1

Frank — I can't tell, I only saw they were going up
the road.

Albert. — Hurrah, here they come ! Now for it,
John !

John. — Herbert heard more of it than I did, for they
didn't let me in till I had to answer the gentlemen.

Mr. L. — Then let us hear what you saw, Herbert.

Herbert, — Oh ! a lot of people.

Edward. — Well^ that we could guess for ourselves.

George. — Did you see the Judge 1

Herbert. — yes ! that I did. His wig hung down
each side in little curls, and he had a red gown on.

George. — And where was he 1

John. — Up high, with a thing like the sounding-
board over the pulpit over his head, and a desk before
him, with a big book where he kept writing.

Mr. L. — Making notes of the evidence to make his
charge from.

WE LIVE UNDER. 83

Edvxvrd. — And what sort of a place was it 1

Albert. — Was it the same where they had the
Quarter Sessions ]

Mr, L, — ^Yes, certainly at the County Hall.

Albert. — Oh ! then I know all about it. There *s a
big round green table in the middle.

Mr. L. — ^Exactly so. Start from that as your centre,
boys.

Herbert. — I don't know what that means, sir.

Mr. L. — Well, tell us what surrounded the table.

Herbert. — The lawyers, sir, the ones with black
gowns and wigs, who you said were barristers, and the
ones without that you called attorneys.

John. — ^Then outside them there were places some-
thing like pews. The Judge sat above them, and by
his side was a gentleman in a fine velvet coat.

Herbert. — That was the Sheriff.

John. — And a clergyman in a black gown.

Mr. L. — His chaplain, who preaches the assize
sermon.

John. — I think there were some gentlemen and
ladies besides.

Mr. L. — Most likely friends of the Sheriff or the
Judge allowed to come and look on. There is too, the
Judge's marshal, who is generally a young lawyer or
other friend, who goes round the circuit with him to
make himself useful. Go on, Herbert, tell us where
the jury were.

Herbert. — In a sort of pew on the right of tlie Judge,
only round the comer.

Edward. — At right angles, you mean.

Herbert. — And just opposite the Judge was a place

8 4 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

like a cattle-pen, which they called the bar, and there
was the prisoner with a sailor.

JoTm. — I can't think why they made it so big.

Mr. L. — Because sometimes a whole gang of criminals
have to be tried.

John. — Then on the left side of the Judge again is
the witness-box. I was precious glad to get out of it,
I can tell you !

Herbert. — Finely frightened you looked when you got
into it. Jack, though you had just nothing at all to say.
You were well off, you weren't like that other chap ; I
thought they 'd have bothered him out of his wits.

Albert. — Where were you, Herbert ?

Herbert. — Up among a lot of people on a gallery like
the one in school, behind the jury. Our policeman
5poke to some one, and got father and me in ; so we
saw it all, plenty of trials before Jack's began.

John. — Mine indeed ! Simon Brown's, if you please.

Herbert. — Well, the one you were witness in. We
were in quite early, and first they had a whole lo of
prisoners in, quite enough to fill up the whole bar,
while they called over the names of all the jurymen.

George. — ^What was that for 1

Herbert, — Somebody said it was to see if they
wanted to challenge any of the jury.

Albert. — What, call 'em out to fight 1 That would
be jolly fun ; but I thought that was all over now.

Mr. L. — Of course it is, Albert. Each prisoner has
the opportunity of challenging or objecting to any jury-
man whom he may think his personal enemy, or likely
in any way to be prejudiced against him. One jury
generally serves for a whole day, so all the prisoners

WE LIVE UNDER. 85

likely to be tried by them are brought in at once to
prevent time from being wasted at the beginning of
each trial.

Herbert — Nobody was challenged, so the jurymen
were sworn in, and then the first trial began. It was
of a clerk that had been forging.

George. — ^Never mind that now, come on and tell us
all about Jack's. How did it begin 1

John, — ^I know I thought it never would begin, they
kept us waiting such a terrible time, and yet they *d
had father and Mr. Fred up before the gentlemen long
before.

Mr. L. — They were called before the Grand Jury.
These are country gentlemen who meet in a room of
their own and examine whether there is evidence
enough in a case to be worth sending into court. You
see, a magistrate may have thought it worth while to
commit a man for trial, but the Grand Jury may
consider that there is not full evidence. Go on,
Herbert.

Herbert. — The two men, Simon Brown and Richard
Mahon, were indicted for feloniously assaulting Edward
Drew, and beating him with a bludgeon to do him
grievous bodily harm, and that they did then rob and
take violently away his purse containing the sum of
eighteen pounds nine shillings and eight pence, and
also his silver watch. Then the men were asked
whether they pleaded guilty or not guilty.

George. — Did they say "Not guilty "?

Mr. L. — Yes, or the trial would not have gone on.

Edward. — What happens if . the prisoner pleads
guilty %

86 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr. L, — The Judge sentences him at once, generally
more leniently, but sometimes there still has to be
a trial to decide the amount of punishment. For
instance, in a case of manslaughter it is necessary to
prove whether the death arose from mere accident,
blameworthy carelessness, or hasty passion.

Edward. — Must a person plead 1

Mr, L. — The old English law thought so, and when
a prisoner refused he was subject to a horrid torture
called the peirie forte et dure, which was being put under
a board and loaded with weights heavier and heavier
till he either pleaded or died.

George. — How awful !

John. — But why should any one not plead 1

Mr, L. — Some people submitted to die then because
a felon's goods are forfeited, and they hoped that by
not being convicted they should save the property for
their family.

Albert. — Does that go on now, sir 1

Mr. L. — No, indeed, I believe that a man who will
not speak, a plea of " not guilty " is entered for him,
and the trial goes on.

Albert. — What came next?

Herbert. — One of the lawyers in the wigs told them
all about it.

Mr. L. — In proper language, the counsel for the pro-
secution opened the case. Who was the first witness,
Herbert ]

Herbeii. — The farmer himself, but first they swore
him in.

Albert. — I know how they do that. There's a
man —

WE LIVE UNDER. 87

Mi\ L, — The clerk of the court.

Albert. — With a little black book.

Mr, Z.— The Gospels^ as being the Word of Truth
and a token of God's presence among us.

John. — It was very awful, and made one feel afraid
of not saying the right thing.

George. — What did they say to you %

John. — The clerk said, " The evidence you shall give
before the court and jury sworn, between our Sovereign
Lady the Queen and the prisoner at the bar, shall be
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
So help you, God." And I had to kiss the book

Herbert. — Did you see that Jew fellow who was ex-
amined about a pawn ticket, and put on his hat in court,
had an Old Testament to swear upon instead of the
Gospels %

Mr. L. — Because he does not accept the New Testa-
ment as sacred. Jews cover their heads in worship and
at solemn moments, as their fathers in the East did
before them.

Edward. — And there are some persons who are
allowed only to affirm, because they think it wrong to
take an oath.

John. — Well, our Lord did say, " Swear not at all."

Mr. L. — True, but it can be proved that this merely
referred to oaths lightly and unnecessarily taken. St.
Paul more than once calls God to witness, and he also
says that an oath is the end of all strife. If you look
at the last of the Thirty-nine Articles, " Of a Christian
man's oath," you will see that the matter has been well
weighed, and that it has been decided that it is well to
strengthen the word of a witness, and keep him in mind

88 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

of his solemn duty by making him swear to speak
truth.

Herbeii, — There was a little girl about nine years
old who came in about a man who had burnt down
his shop to get the insurance, and they asked her if she
knew the nature of an oath.

Frank. — What did she sayl

Herbert, — She spoke so low that nobody could hear,
but when they told her to look up and speak out, and
the Judge asked her kindly to say it over again, she
said, " Please sir, it is promising Almighty God to
speak the truth." The Judge was very much pleased,
and said she could not have answered better.

Mr. L. — I don't think she could.

Albert. — Well, get on ; we shall never hear about
these thieves of Jack's. The fanner was sworn in, you
say —

Herbert. — Then one of the lawyers —

Edward. — The counsel for the prosecution —

Herbert. — Asked him where he was that evening of
the 10th of December, and he answered. In Chalk Pit
Lane, riding home from market. Then he told how
the two men came out of the hedge at him, and one laid
hold of his horse and the others fetched him a blow.
Then he could not tell any more.

John. — No, he did not come to himself till he was
in-doors.

Herbert. — Then they asked him if he could swear to
the men, and he said, No, for it was too dark to see
their faces. They showed him the watch and the
purse, and he identified them for his own, and told just
how much money there was in the purse. But then

WE LIVE UNDER. 89

another lawyer started up as soon as the first sat
down.

Mr, L. — I thought so. It was' to defend the prisoners.
No doubt the Judge appointed him.

John. — I can't see why such rascals should have
any one to defend them.

Edward, — That 's just what Albert said about the
man who* stole the watch ! It is the only way to
make the truth come out.

George. — Well, I wouldn 't be a lawyer to stand up
for thieves and blackguards.

Mr. L. — Perhaps sometimes you might find yourself
saving an innocent man. What line did the cross-
examination take ] I mean what did the counsel say 1

Herbert. — He asked Mr. Drew what time it was
exactly, and when he said it was between eight and
nine, the fellow wanted him to say for certain to a
minute, and went on this way : " Can you swear that
it was before half-past eight]" Mr. Drew said he
thought it was, but could not be sure, and then the
man said, " Can you swear that it was after half-past
nine V Mr. Drew said no he could not, nor he couldn't
swear that it was at half-past nine.

George. — ^Wliy, what did it signify when it was ?

John. — He meant something by it, the impudent
fellow. Go on, Herbert.

Herbert. — ^Then he wanted to know when Mr. Drew set
off from Eoundhill, and where he had put up. He said
the Chequers at EUerby ; and then he was to be asked
whether he took any refreshment there, and the lawyer
looked quite delighted when Mr. Drew said he had had
a bit of bread and cheese, and a glass of spirits and

90 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

water. You wouldn't guess how many questions he
made about whether it was one glass. That the farmer
swore to. And then what sort of spirits it was, and
how much was water, and how much brandy.

George, — Oh ! he wanted to make out that the
farmer had had a drop too much.

Herbert, — Mr. Drew got quite angry at last, and
asked whether the gentleman thought him siich a poor
creature that he could not carry off a gill of brandy.
And then every one laughed, but the lawyer only
looked knowing and sly, and began to compliment
his habitual temperance.

George, — What was that for 1

Edward, — If he couldn 't make out that the farmer
had been taking a deal of liquor, he would try to show
that just a drop was too much for him to know what
he was about.

George, — That 's a great shame.

Mr. L, — The farmer's character was not his concern.
What he had to do was to try to prove his clients not
guilty.

Albert — His what, sir 1

Mr. L. — His clients — the persons whose cause he
had to plead.

John, — Well, Mr. Drew drove father and me home,
and we heard him say he'd been so badgered about it,
that no one should catch him touching a drop of spirits
again on the road home.

Mr. L, — A very good resolution too, and I hope he '11
only keep to it.

Frank, — Tom, — John, — Master 's a right down sober
man, sir.

WE LIVE UNDER.. 91

Mr, L. — Quite right to stand up for your master, my
lads, but still nobody is really the better for a glass
of spirits and water swallowed down before a cold ride.
However, let us get back to the cross-examination.

Herbert. — The counsel bothered him as to how dark
it was, and how much he could see, and whether he
could swear to having seen one man or two, and whether
the horse started as they jumped out, and whether he
could swear that he was struck with the same big stick
as they showed him. That he could not do, all in the
dark and dazed as he was, and then he was done with.

Albert — Who came up next?

Herbert, — Dr. Cawte, who said he had been called in
to see Mr. Drew, and found him stunned and suffering
from a confusion in the head —

Ml'. L. — Contusion, if you please, Herbert. The
contusion might produce the confusion, but that was
the word he used. And I can likewise give a pretty
good guess that he said that the injury had been
inflicted by a blunt instrument, such as the stick they
showed him.

Herbert. — Just so, sir, but when the cross-examining
chap—

Edward, — ^The counsel for the prisoner.

Herbert, — ^When he had his turn, he wanted to make
the doctor say that the bruises might have been made
by the farmer coming down right on his head, and not
by the stick at all. And Dr. Cawte, though I'm sure
he didn't want to, had to say he could not swear that

the fall might not make such a sort of con which

was it ] though he didn't think it would.

Mr. L, — Well done, counsel for the prisoner; he had

92 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

not SO very bad a case after all. Who was the next
witness 1

Herbert. — John's father, sir, who told how the horse
came running loose, and how they found the black-
guards robbing the poor farmer. One would have
thought that was a settler, but the counsel, as you call
him, went on to try and make it seem as if these fellows
had just been helping the poor farmer. A likely story
indeed that they should have l\elped his watch out of
his pocket ! and Master Wills up and said so, and all
the Court laughed. Then came Jack's turn.

George. — How did it feel, Jack *?

John. — Oh I I don't know.

Albert. — I wish somebody would do something that
I could be witness about. I 'd like to give that chap
as good as he gave.

John. — You 'd wish yourself somewhere else pretty
soon, Albert !

Herbert. — They were worse to you than to your
father.

Tom. — They thought he was young and simple-like,
and they 'd bother him easier.

John. — Have done, Tom, or I '11 bother you.

Herbert. — It was worse, for they examined you three
times — First, the one who always began —

Mr. L. — The counsel for the prosecution, you mean.

John. — Well, he made me tell the plain old story, and
then came the cross. And one tried to make me say
that I might have not seen properly what the men
were about, and that the watch and purse might have
fallen out of the farmer's pockets. I knew they
couldn't have — and the first lawyer began at me again,

WE LIVE UNDER. 93

as to where I had found the watch, whether near the
place, and purse, whether it was where master was lying.

Mr. L, — That is called a re-examination. The
counsel for the prosecution is allowed to make it, so as
to explain, if he can, anything that may have been
twisted, as it were, in the cross-examination.

John, — Well, sir, it was just so, for 1 picked up
the watch just where Mr. Fred laid hold of the
man who was running away, and had the scuffle with
him. ^

George. — Had Mr. Fred to bear witness ?

John. — Yes, to his coming up and catching the man,
and all the rest of it. And they made him identify the
watch and purse besides.

Albert. — Was there any of that cross-examining
work ]

Jolm. — Yes — more shame for that lawyer — he wanted
to know whether poor master was a man of temperate
habits, and how much he could take without feeling it.
The other one tried to stop him, and asked the Judge if
it ought to go on, and then the man said, " My Lord, I
beg to differ from my learned brother," and went on,

Herbert. — And then came the speech at the end —

Mr. L. — The speech for the defence, you mean.

Herbert. — Then we saw what it all meant. He did
put it all so as I never should have thought of it.

John. — He said that he did not mean to attach any
blame to any one, but here was this excellent gentleman,
as he chose to call the farmer, riding home after his
long day at Eoundhill — after having — far be it from him
to say — exceeded the bounds of sobriety. He had the
highest respect for the high character — and so on. But

94 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

he appealed to all the gentlemen of the jury, whether
the most temperate of men — ^nay, he might almost ask,
whethertemperance itself, did not increase the likelihood
—might not be liable to a slight sense of drowsiness after
taking a tumblerful of hot strong drink at the close of
a fatiguing day, while riding home on his steady-paced
horse in the dark and cold of a winter's night. Some-
how he made his voice go slow, and nodded his head
just as if he was going off to sleep. Then even the
quietest and steadiest of steed% might sometimes be
startled out of propriety. Might not the admirable
Dobbin have taken alarm at sight of figures in the lane,
and swerved aside, overthrowing his master. Then, the
travellers come up to assist the fallen man, and then —
what do you think he said 'i

Albert. — What, that you were the thief, Jack 1

John, — ^No, not so bad as that, but that father and I
had been so downright stupid as to take them for
thieves when they were only helping the farmer. Yes,
he did ; the rogue ! Now didn't he, Herbert 1

Herbert. — He said we must take care how we would
act the Good Samaritan in our parts.

Mr. L. — But Ijow about the watch 1

John. — He didn't say much about that, except some-
thing about dropping out of the farmer's pocket. Any
way, he tried to get folk to think that 'twas father
and me who ought by good rights to be in the dock,
for assaulting such a respectable pair of innocent folks
who were just helping up a poor man thrown from his
horse, and he put it to the jury whether to convic*v
them would not be just the way to prevent kind offices
being done in case of accidents.

WE LIVE UNDER. 95

Edward, — ^Well done, Jack ! You tell it so well you
might be a barrister yourself.

John, — I wouldn't be bound to try to make folk
swallow such a pack of stuff !

Herbert, — Well, then the Judge began, and he went
over it all. He made nothing of the stuff that fellow
talked about the benevolent strangers ! He stuck to
it ; how did the watch get out of the farmer's pocket
ever so far —

John, — Thirty yards,, I told 'em so.

Herbert, — From where the fall took place t Ay, and
the watch-guard broken too ] He didn't think that a
moderate tumbler of brandy and water would so affect
a stout watch-guard.

George, — Ha ! ha ! that must have made every one
laugh.

Mr, L, — So the charge was all against the prisoners.

John. — ^Yes, and the jury did not make a bit of
difficulty, but found both the men guilty. So then the
Judge asked them if they could show cause why they
should not be sentenced, and they had nothing to say —

Herbert, — One said, " We were drove to it, my Lord,"
but nobody believed that.

John, — And so the Judge spoke very severely to them,
and said it came of their leading an idle vagabond life,
and he sentenced them to one year's imprisonment
with hard labour.

Albert, — I 'm glad they didn't get off !

Mr, L. — I hop§ they may come out better men.

Herbert. — Jack, did you see the two lawyers after-
wards 1 The one for, and the one against.

John, — No — what 1

96 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Herbert. — I was pushed up against them in the coui-t-
yard. They 'd got their wigs and gowns on still, and
very queer they looked in the open air. " That was a
desperate bad case of yours," says the one against the
prisoners : he was quite an oldish man compared with
the one for them, who I believe was young under his
wig, " but you made a good fight for them."

Edward. — Then it was like a game to them !

Mr. L. — They had to set their wits one against the
other. But you see, though it does seem. sometimes to
be defending a bad cause, it is really the way to bring
justice to bear, and get at the truth.

WE LIVE UNDER. 97

CHAPTER XII.

PUNISHMENTS.

Edward. — We Ve been reading all about the trial in
the paper, John.

Mr, L, — And really you and Herbert had given
us your report in first-rate style.

George, — I can't think why they let oiF the black-
guards so easy.

Mr, L, — Perhaps because there was some truth in
what they pleaded, that they were in great want.

Herbert. — But, sir, you always tell us that want is no
reason for doing wrong.

George, — And mother always says, "Better starve
than steal."

Mr, L, — Quite right, my dear fellows, and we have
the greatest of all examples to show that hunger is
better than doing the devil's bidding. Nevertheless
a crime deserves less punishment when committed by
a poor distressed creature than if it were done out of
spite or cruelty, or from the desire of riches.

George, — Who fixes how much the punishment
shall be 1

Mr, L, — The law lays down limits for different
offences, saying, for instance, that for some kinds of

G

98 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

robbery a man may be imprisoned for not more than
two years. Within those bounds, the Judge or other
magistrate apportions the amount according as he
thinks fit.

Albert. — And if he made a mistake 1

Mr. L, — Then there would be, most likely, an appeal
to the Home Secretary, who would, as representing the
Crown, alter the sentence, if he thought it too severe.

Herbert. — What punisliments are there 1

Geoi-ge. — Being hung — or transported, or put in
prison —

John. — There 's no transporting now.

Mr, Z. — No ; and you have left out flogging, which
is justly inflicted on men who beat their wives, and for
such cowardly offences as show man or boy to deserve
to be treated like wild beasts.

Edward. — ^Were not all the punishments much more
severe once %

Mr. L. — Frightfully so. The old laws seem to have
gone only on the principle that vengeance is due to crime.

George. — Isn't it ? I thought it was right.

Mr. L. — It is right that punishment should fall on
the guilty. Justice ought not to suffier crime to go
unvisited. It would be wrong, and would besides leave
the weak without protection. Do you see what I mean ?

Edward. — First, it would be a shame not to punish
wickedness, and then if wicked men had no fear to stop
them, they would do all sorts of harm.

Mr. L. — Just so, and I do not think our forefathers
went beyond those two notions, that of executing
justice and that of securing themselves.

Albert. — What else was there to think of]

WE LIVE UNDER. 99

Mr. L, — Can none of you boys see 1

Herbert, — To keep them from doing it again.

Edward, — Mr. Lamb said that, Herbert.

Mr. L. — I am not sure that Herbert has not got the
notion in part. How would you stop the guilty man
from doing fresh harm %

Herbert, — Hang him, sir. Or keep him shut up.

Edward, — You don't see, Herbert. Mr. Lamb .means
better than that. To get him to change his ways, isn't
it, sir?

Mr. L, — Quite right, Edward. No one in the State,
however good, seemed to think the attempt to reform
any part of its duty. However, sometimes a man was
given up to the Church, by pleading, as you heard before,
** benefit of clergy." You remember what this meant.

George, — That he belonged somehow or other to the
clergy, so he was given to the Bishop.

Mr. L, — And then he was to do penance, and at least
it was intended that something should be done to im-
prove him, but I don't think it was often really tried.

Edward. — And were not the punishments \ery
dreadftd %

John, — Prison was bad enough.

Mr. L. — The punishments were invented by a rough
and barbarous people. There was branding — marking
with a red-hot iron with some letter: V., I think, for
vagabond, or T. for thief. In each assize town there
was a scaffold, called a pillory, on which the offender
was made to stand that everybody might know him, and
have no more dealings with him. Sometimes the poor
creature was pelted with rotten eggs and stones by the
mob, and sometimes he was set up behind a boarding,

100 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

with holes, through which were thrust his head and
hands.

Edward. — ^Were not his ears or hands sometimes
cut off ?

Mr, L, — Yes, or his nose was slit. In Queen
Elizabeth's time, a Roman Catholic who had written a
book that was considered as treasonable, was sentenced
to lose his right hand. As soon as it was cut off, he
waved his hat with his remaining hand, and cried " God
save the Queen."

Albert. — Then he had not meant any harm to the
Queen 1

Mr. L. — No, but her Council were jealous of all
Eoman Catholics lest they should rise in favour of Mary
Queen of Scots.

Edward. — Did not William Prynne have his ears cut
off in the time of Charles I. %

Mr, L. — Twice.

Herbert. — Twice ! How could that be 1

Mr. L. He is said to have had them sewed on again.
He was a young barrister who wrote a violent book
against theatres and stage-players. This was judged
to be a libel.

Herbert. — What is a libel 1

Mr. L. — A slander against the character of another
person.

Edward. — yes, I have heard of libels.

Mr. L. — The Attorney-General prosecuted Prjmne,
and he had to pay £5000, lose his ears, stand in the
pillory, see his book burnt, and be imprisoned. This
sentence made him furious against Archbishop Laud,
who had been concerned in bringing it about, and he

WE LIVE UNDER. 101

wrote another book denouncing all the bishops in the
most outrageous way. For this he was fined again, and
had S. L., for Seditious Libeller, branded on both cheeks,
his ears, or what remained of them, were again cut off,
and he was set on the pillory again, but there, nothing
daunted, he spoke like a preacher, declaring that
such practices were against the law of England. People
listened, and instead of throwing stones at him, had their
feelings stirred ; so that his punishment did much more
harm than his book to the cause of the King and Bishops.

Edward. — Wasn't the book really bad ]

Mr. L. — It was a seditious intemperate book, no
doubt, "speaking evil of dignities," but over-punish-
ment does nothing but mischief.

George. — Did such horrid things go on after that ]

Mr. L. — I don't believe that ears or hands were cut
off after the time of the Eebellion, but the pillory
continued to be used, and felons were there set up to
be pelted and abused, and made an example of, though,
as time went on, magistrates seem to have felt that
such exhibitions did infinite harm to the crowd who
hooted, and indeed some of the unhappy men in the
pillory were actually killed by the stones that hit them.
So it became less and less the practice of magistrates to
condemn people to it, and in the later years of George
Ill.'s time, forgery was the only offence for which it was
used. In the first year of our own Queen, the pillory-
was abolished finally, by Act of Parliament.

Albert, — But what harm did it do the crowd ]

Mr. X.— Think.

Albert. — I don't know, sir, unless they hit one another
by mistake.

102 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Herbert, — Or made a row.

Tom, — I suppose you mean, sir, that it was right
down bad for them to be pelting and abusing a poor
wretch that couldn't help himself, however bad he
might be.

Mr, L. — Exactly so, Tom. It helped to make them
brutal.

George. — I suppose there was not much thought
whether things were cruel in those old times.

Edward. — Were not people put to the torture ?

Mr, Z.— That was not as actual punishment so much
as for a means of extracting evidence. It never was
really lawful in England, though it was so on the
Continent.

Edward. — Then how could it be done 1

Mr. L, — Because Henry viiL, Queen Elizabeth, and
James I., and their councillors, ventured on many
things that were beyond law, and no one dared to check
them. . Even they, I think, seldom tortured unless the
person in their hands was known to be concerned in a
plot which it was desirable to sift to the bottom.

Gilbert. — What was it like — the torture, I mean ?

Mr. L. — It was generally being put on the rack.
This was a frame, the feet and hands bound to bars at
the top and bottom. These bars were pulled further
and further apart, so that the agony was intolerable,
and the wrists and ankles were often dislocated.

Tom. — How awful ! Did it always make them speak 1

Mr. L. — Some would be resolute through all, and
betray nothing. Others would say yes to every question
in terror at the pain, and on the whole, this horrible
mode of forcing people to speak proved after all to be

WE LIVE UNDER. 103

of little use^ for some did not know what they said in
their pain, and others nerved themselves not to speak
at all. I believe that the last men racked in England
were those concerned in the Gunpowder Plot.

Albert. — Guy Fawkes 1

Mr. L. — Yes. I have been told that no one can
help pitying even Guy Fawkes who sees his signatures
to his confessions becoming more and more shaky and
ill-written.

Tom, — I am glad there was no more of it.

Edijoard, — ^And were not many more crimes punished
with death in those times %

Mr, L, — Yes. Death was the punishment of many
offences. I read the other day that no less than
72,000 people were hanged in the course of the reign
of Henry viii.

George. — I thought he cut off people's heads.

Mr. L. — That was only done to nobles, queens, or
great princes. They were beheaded, the meaner folk
were hanged.

John. — Then there was the burning.

Mr. L. — Fire was for false doctrine and heresy,
either real or supposed.

Edward. — There was none of that after Queen Mary.

Mr. L. — Yes, there was. In Queen Elizabeth's time
two Anabaptists were burnt in London. I think this
ended the horrid cruelty of burning people for their reli-
gion, but the law continued that if a person were found
guilty of witchcraft, the death should be by burning, and
also this was the punishment of petty treason, that
is, a wife killing her husband.

John. — I thought no one believed in witches.

104 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

George. — I've heard grandfather tell of a cunning
woman who used to bewitch the cows where he lived
when he was a little lad, but grandfather was very old,
and weak in the head.

Mr, L. — There was a belief in those old times that
it was possible to hold traffic with the devil. Some
poor wretches fancied they did so. Many more were
accused of it, and if they were found guilty were put
to this awful death.

Edward. — You don't really think they did, sir 1
Mr. L. — Every one traffics with Satan who perils
knowingly his immortal soul for pleasure, riches, or
gain. How far it was possible that Satan was permitted
to have open dealings with any person no one can tell.
I do believe that some tried to have auch dealings, and
that some used some kind of tricks like those of con-
jurors, and then pretended to have gained power through
evil spirits. It was great wickedness either way, and
King James I., and others, long after his time,
thought " Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live" showed
that they ought to execute severe judgment.
Edward. — Does not that law last on now 1
Mr. L. — It was not part of the Ten Commandments,
but belonged to those other laws of the Israelites
which were meant to fence them from the foul and
idolatrous practices of the heathens around. In point
of fact, we know any attempt at dealing with spirits,
and any pretence at knowledge so derived, is a great
sin. No one ought to meddle with fortune-tellers,
spiritualists, or the like; but the commission to root
them out by putting them to death does not belong to
Christian governments.

WE LIVE UNDER. 105

Albert. — When did people leave off burning them 1

Mr. L. — Not till the reign of George ii. The last
burning was at Dunse Law in Scotland in 1722, and
that led to such a scandal that the law was repealed.
But the country folk were still very ignorant, and any
poor old woman who was a little cleverer, or a little
uglier, or a little more ill-tempered than her neighbours,
was supposed to be a witch, and to be capable of curing
diseases by charms, finding lost articles, and of over-
looking cattle, so that they became diseased, or of
sometimes preventing the butter from coming. Then
the rough violent people would take the law into
their own hands and duck the unhappy woman.

Edward, — I 've heard of ducking a witch.

Mr. L. — It was a remnant of the trial by ordeal,
for if she floated, it was supposed to be by the power of
evil, and she was often hunted to death. If she sank,
though she might be acquitted of being a witch, she was
generally drowned. People had so taken up this idea,
that not above thirty years ago a poor old French
gentleman was thus hunted down and ducked so that
he died of it, because he was thought to be a sorcerer.

Edward. — But that was not the law.

Mr. L. — No. The law punished such cruel violences
as assaults, and at the same time there were prosecutions
of cunning men and women, for obtaining money on
false pretences, so that these practices were gradually
put an end to.

Edward. — Then was not the punishment for high
treason especially horrid 1

Albert. — What is high treason 1

Mr. L. — Plotting against the king and government.

106 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Yes, the punishmejit was absolutely savage. The traitor
wae hung, but cut down alive and divided into four
quarters, which were sent to different cities and hung
up over the gates.

Jolm, — They really hung them up !

Mr, L. — Really. Down to the executions after the
Jacobites* rising in 1745, the heads of traitors hung
decaying over the Temple Bar gate, which has now just
been pulled down. Yes, what makes you almost sick
to think of, was a daily sight to people of all kinds and
degrees in London. Besides, most criminals were hung
in chains, as a warning, on the spot where their crime
had been committed. Many places still bear the
name of Gallows' hill or the like, from those ghastly
recollections.

George, — I can't think how the women ever went
about the country. Such work as we had to get our
Lizzie past a dead horse the other day.

Albert — Oh 1 the women folk like something to
holloa at.

Mr, L, — Men and women both were hardened to the
sight of cruelty and death in those days. An execution
was treated as a show. Crowds and throngs came to
stare, and all the diversions, if we may call them so,
that arise among mobs went on. People sold things to
eat, there was gambling, and pickpockets watched the
unwary, and sheets of paper were sold, professing to
contain the last dying speech and confession of the
unhappy man, often before ever it had been made.

John. — I know grandmother always tells how her
mother lost her pocket-piece going to see a hanging,
when she was a little maid living at Carchester.

WE LIVE UNDER. 107

Mr, L. — Yes, children went to see executions, as they
always go to stare whenever anything is going on. It
is only very recently that it has been decided that
public executions are mischievous and brutalising, and
therefore that criminals should be put to death only
before the necessary authorities and witnesses.

Edward. — Were not people hung for slighter offences
than now 9

Mr. L, — Burglary, and sheep or horse stealing, were
punished with death. So were highway robbery and
forgery, and many other crimes. There was hardly an
assize without numbers of persons being left under
sentence of death. There were 797 executions in
England between 1820 and 1830, but by that time
there were great efforts being made to make the
punishment proportionate to the crime. Sir Samuel
Romilly, who had been Solicitor-General, made a great
stir for a change in this respect ; and after his death,
Sir Robert Peel carried out his plans. More and more
leniency was introduced by successive Acts of Parlia-
ment under George iv. and William iv., and in 1837, the
first year of Victoria, it was enacted that death should
be only inflicted upon murderers when their victim had
actually died. This agrees with the law given to all
the world, when spoken to Noah, " Whoso sheddeth
man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed."

John. — Yes, that seems the right rule.

Mr. L. — And the change really tended to lessen the
amount of crime. Housebreakers used — when if taken
they were sure to be hung — to murder those who might
bear witness against them, but now murderous burglaries
are much less frequent. If you remember a wicked old

108 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

proverb, you will see how reckless these over severe
puDishments made people.

Edward. — Do you mean "As well be hung for a
sheep as for a lamb T

Albert — But sir, why do you call it a wicked
proverb 1

Mr, L, — Can't you tell me, any of you, boys 1

Edward, — I suppose because good people keep from
evil-doing for the sake of doing right, not from fear of
punishment more or less.

Mr, L. — ^And the proverb heeds not the wrong, but
the punishment. Another way too in which the
softening of the law worked for good was that more
real justice was done, for many people were unwilling
to accuse a person of sheep- stealing or forgery, or the
like, if it were to lead to nothing short of death.
What are you laughing at there, George 1

George, — Why, Herbert here thinks forgery is black-
smith's work, and that they might hang his father.

Herbert, — No, no, George, I never said that I

Mr, L. — I fancy the name came from smiths making,
or forging, false articles of seeming gold or silver —
money generally. Forgery generally means the imitat-
ing handwriting, putting a sham signature to a will, or
a letter, or an order for money. It is' a great oflFence,
because it is a breach of trust, and destroys confidence,
and it was the last to be exempted from capital
punishment. Do you know what that means %

Tom, — ^Is it death, sir 1

Mr, L, — Yes, as the chief punishment.

Herbert, — What becomes of those that are not hung 1

George, — They have penal servitude.

WE LIVE UNDER. 109

Frank, — I thought they were transported.

Tom, — Grandfather knew a man that was sent to
Botany Bay.

Mr, L, — You are both right and both wrong. It was
thought, as soon as America was discovered, that to send
criminals to work in the new countries was an excellent
plan of both getting rid of them, and making them of
service. Many who were not criminals, but in dis-
grace with Government, were sent to the West Indies
and Carolina. I believe some clergymen were sent in
the time of the Commonwealth, and again, Presby-
terians from Scotland, when Charies ll. was persecuting
the Covenanters.

George. — It was a great shame, but perhaps they
minded it less if they had their liberty out there.

Mr. L. — That was just what they did not have.
They were made slaves to cotton, sugar, and tobacco
planters, and worked like negroes.

Edward, — In those hot climates 1

Mr, L. — Yes, and most of them died very quickly,
unless they won favour from their masters, and were set
to easier tasks, where their education was useful. How-
ever, after America had broken from England — When
was that 1

Edward.— In 1776, sir.

Mr, L, — After that, there could be no more trans-
portation to America, but in the meantime Australia
had been discovered, and Captain Cook had advised
that a settlement should be made near Botany Bay.
I think you learnt why it was so called.
*" ' Herbert. — Because of the plants there, which made it
a fine place to study botany.

110 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr. L. — Thither in the year 1787, Captain Phillip
sailed with 890 convicts, both men and women, together
with soldiers who were to keep them in order. They
were set to grub up the forests of gum-trees, and to get
the land into order for growing com. Those who
behaved well were, after a time, set free, and had grants
of land made to them, so that they could begin as
independent farmers, and they had fresh convict comers
assigned to them as their labourers and servants.

Edward, — I wonder what sort of masters they made.

Mr, L. — Many, with this fresh start and hope before
them, turned out much better than could have been
expected; but the shocking part of the system was
that there was almost nothing done to train them to
be better men. No chaplains, except one for the
governor, accompanied them, and except the being set
to out-of-door work in a new country, there was nothing
to reform them. Those who committed fresh crimes
were chained together, and set to work in the hot sun,
to make roads, with soldiers to drive them to toil by
the lash, and with loaded muskets ready in case they
should attempt to escape.

Albert. — Did they ever escape ]

Mr, L, — Sometimes, and then they were called bush-
rangers, and lived a fierce savage life in the bush, as
you know the forests in Australia are termed. It was
not uncommon for them to make an attack on a settler's
family, when all the men were out of reach. Perhaps
a farmer would come home from a long ride to the
town to find his wife baled up — that is, tied hand and
foot and gagged, while everything valuable, especially
the horses, was carried off. If resistance was made.

WE LIVE UNDER. Ill

there was often bloodshed. Indeed these desperate
men paused at nothing. If they were taken, they were
either put to death, or they were shipped off . to
Norfolk Island, a most lovely place, but with no
harbour, and small rocks all round, so that few ships
touched there, and escape was quite impossible. Soldiers
guarded them, and they were kept at constant work,
marched backwards and forwards to a great barrack,
and really made' as miserable as contrivance could
render them. Orange-trees grew wild there, and the
keepers tried to destroy them because they thought
the fruit too good for the convicts. Once when 24 men,
for some attempt at revolt, were sentenced to die, a
Eoman Catholic priest. Father UUathorne, volunteered
to go out and prepare them for death. In the end
eleven were reprieved, but when the names were read,
it was those who were to die, not those who were to
live, who man by man gave thanks for the deliverance.

Albert. — But they were awfiil blackguards ; and it
served them right, did it not 1

Mr, L, — They had no doubt committed most terrible
crimes, but deliberately making men as wretched as
possible is not justice but revenge.

John, — Please sir, I thought Norfolk Island was a
great missionary station. There *s ever so much about
it in " Our Fellow Soldier.'*

Edward, — Or is it the same place 1

Mr. L. — Yes, it is the same place, boys. That has
come to pass of which I once heard the great Bishop
Selwyn speak at a missionary meeting. What was once
the blackest spot in the Pacific Ocean has become the
brightest. The way was this. These dreadful things

112 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

came chiefly of their really being unknown to people at
home. That good Irish priest, Father UUathorne, and
also a Quaker named George Washington Walker, did
all in their power to make the horrible state of the
convicts known in England. The Government took it
up, and the Priest and the Quaker were examined
before a Parliamentary committee, and the end of it
was that in 1850, the remaining convicts were removed
from Norfolk Island, and the barracks left empty. After-
wards the Pitcaim islanders were settled there, and
some years later Bishop Selwyn's wish was accom-
plished, and a Mission college for the natives of the
Melanesian isles was begun by Bishop Patteson ; thus
the blot was changed to a star.

Edward, — And in Australia —

Mr, L. — First there was an excellent English clergy-
man, Samuel Marsdcjn, whose life you may see in
Pioneers and Fminders, who worked hard to teach
the convicts in New South Wales, and get some means
of training them religiously and improving them.
Much was done in that way, but as emigration set in
more and more to the great island, the colonists
objected to receiving convicts. The work they did
could not make up for the evil they brought, or for the
danger of their running away to become bush-rangers.
The later colonies stipulated that they should not be
made penal settlements, then Tasmania and New South
Wales did the same, and in 1850 penal servitude
was substituted for transportation. However, we
must break up now, and leave the rest of the subject
for another evening.

WE LIVE UNDER. 113

CHAPTER XIII.

IMPRISONMENT.

Albert. — You didn't finish up about punishments,
sir.

George, — Something had to be done instead of
transporting people.

John, — " Imprisonment with hard labour," they call
it, don't they 1

Edward. — I thought it was penal servitude.

Mr, L. — There was some imprisonment with hard
labour, even when transportation was used, for it would
not have been worth while to go to the expense of
sending criminals on a long voyage for less than seven
years. So some were sent to labour at Government
works, such as making the dockyards and roads about the
ports — always closely guarded, and dressed in a strange
hideous uniform to prevent the chances of escape.

John. — Was that going to the hulks 1

Mr. L. — Yes. They were lodged in the hulks of
ships no longer fit to go to sea.

Edward. — Was that the same as being sent to the
galleys 1

Mr. L. — ^Not exactly. The foreign custom was to
send criminals and indeed prisoners of all kinds, not

114 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

only to this dockyard work, but to do what steam does
now for the ships of war. The lower decks were fitted
with benches for rowers, these galley slaves were chained
to them, and a taskmaster stood over them with a
terrible lash to make all work at the oar with all
their strength. It must have been a most awful life of
misery, in the stifling air and horrible stench in which
they lived. And in a sea-fight, the balls tore them to
pieces in the dark, no one caring, more than if they had
been so much machinery.

Herbert. — Was that ever done in England 1

Mr, Z. — Never. The French and Spaniards went
on with it up to about the beginning of the last
century, but now, though I believe the name of gaUrien
is still given to a convict, felons only work in the dock-
yards at Brest, and such places.

Edward, — And don't they sometimes go to work in
the mines 1

Mr. L. — Only Eussian convicts now, I believe.

John. — I thought they went to Siberia. There *s a
story in one of the reading-books about a girl who
walked from Siberia to Petersburg to beg pardon for
her father.

Mr. L. — The mines are in Siberia, and there the
felons work. But Siberia is also a place of exile for poli-
tical offenders — people who have attempted something
against the Government; and as part of Poland was
wrongfully seized, and the nation has never submitted,
these exiles have been numerous. In England there
are many convicts employed in Government works on
Dartmoor, or on the quarries at Portland Island.

George. — Where Portland stone comes from 1

WE LIVE UNDER. 115

Herbert. — Here it is on the map, close to Weymouth,
in Dorsetshire, but is it really an island ]

Mr, L, — ^No, it is a peninsula, whose isthmus is the
Chisell bank, a long ridge of pebbles of all sizes, thrown
up by the tide.

Herbert. — I know. Miss Manners has got one for a
weight on her table. She showed it to me.

Mr. L. — Portland is, however, almost cut off from
inhabited places, and as it is almost all one great block
or hill of hard white stone, it has served well for
convicts, as they can both be secluded there and set to
work without being cut off from the free air. It is
used now, however, for persons under sentence of penal
servitude. The shorter terms of imprisonment with
hard labour, which can be undergone without injury to
health, are worked out in the county prisons. I was
telling Mr. Manners the other day how interested you
were in all these matters, and he told me a good deal
that I jotted down for you. He said, the old notion
of punishment was that the worse a person did the
more he must suffer.

John. — Well, that 's but right.

Mr. L. — It is but clumsy justice though, and it left
out all notion of reforming the sinner. Besides, it led
to savage cruelty where the offence was extraordinarily
great, and people felt that, as the saying was, about the
wretched evil-doer, " hanging was too good for him."
So the man who killed Henry IV. of France was torn
to pieces by horses. Some persons were bound on the
wheel, while the limbs were broken ; and in some places
in Germany a thief was boiled. But when people began
to think more, not only did they shrink from cruelty, and

116 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

from taking life, but they began to consider how good
could be done to the criminal. First, there was, as I
told you, more pains taken to separate the tried and
untried, and the debtors and the felons. Then it was
borne in mind that many of the criminals had really had
no chance of knowing better. An account was taken of
the numbers of prisoners who could read and write, and it
was found that by far the greater number were perfectly
ignorant. So schools were begun in the gaols, and the
magistrates in many places began to study prison
discipline, the great principle being how to make
punishment not so much the revenging of the crime, as
the chastisement that might improve the sinner. Work
had to be found, not only because hard labour was
part of the punishment, but as wholesome discipline.
In 1817, the treadmill was invented. It is a wheel
attached to a mill which may be used for grinding com,
pumping water, or the like, and is turned by men
continually stepping on a wooden step.
Edward. — Why do you say may be used 1
Mr, L. — Because often the wheel is turned without
any grist when there is no work for it to do. Then it was
found that the doing all this for absolutely nothing, and
at the best, never seeing the effect of their labour, had
a really bad and depressing effect on the prisoners, by
making them hate exertion instead of learning the satis-
faction of doing honest work ; and I believe the tread-
mill is only used now when there is no other way of find-
ing employment. Between the years 1830 and 1860,
the whole subject was much considered. The mixing up
the prisoners together was seen to be a great evil, since
the old pickpockets, and people hardened in vice, were

WE LIVE UNDER. 117

able to make the prison a perfect school of vice to those
who had only been guilty of one crime, and would
perhaps have repented of that.

John, — That stands to reason.

Mr. L. — So there was a great rebuilding and re-
arranging of prisons, so that each man might have a
separate cell to be locked up in, sleeping, eating,
working alone, seeing no one from week's end to week's
end, but the turnkey and the chaplain. His exercise
was taken in a yard so contrived that the turnkeys
could see the prisoners, but these could not see one
another, and even at church, there were partitions
which prevented them from seeing each other.

George. — That must be awful !

Mr. L. — Kemember too that the cells are clean,
empty, white-washed, without anything for the eye to
rest on, no place free from the warder's eye, and you
will not wonder that it was found that many prisoners
could not endure solitary confinement. At Pentonville
prison, where the plan was tried, thirteen men's minds
became affected within nine months, and the health of
many more gave way. So, after much consideration,
it has been decided that solitary confinement shall only
last so short a time as to do no lasting harm to mind
or body, but that it should, if expedient, be gone
through at the beginning of a sentence.

Edward. — So as to give a fellow time to think over
what he has done, I suppose.

Mr, L.-^Yes. It is absolutely and really in itself a
very severe punishment, but it gives the best hope of the
man's coming to a better mind. All that time he has
no communication with his friends, so that there may

118 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

be nothing at all to distract his thoughts ; but after
that first period is over, one or two persons may visit
him, but only standing on the other side of two
barriers with a turnkey sitting between.

George, — Is not that very hard 1

Mr. L, — It falls hard on some, but the rule is
quite necessary, as most mischievous messages might
be sent out, or things given in, such as spirits and
tobacco, or even weapons with which to attack the
warders, or tools to help in effecting an escape.

John. — What is done with the poor wretches after
the solitary time is overl

Mr, L, — They are taught a trade of some kind, shoe-
making, tailoring, baking, or the like, making them work
for the needs of the prison, and at the same time en-
abling them to work for an honest livelihood when their
time is over. After this, they are removed either to
Portsmouth or Chatham, Portland or Dartmoor, where
there is a huge prison at Prince Town, which was
built to hold the French prisoners at the time of the
great war. Here the prisoners are employed in
Government works. A whole breakwater has thus been
constructed at Portland. If they behave well, a small
sum is reckoned to them for wages, and allowed to
accumulate, so as to be ready to help them to a fresh
start in life. Everything is done in fact to prevent
them from falling into a reckless state of despair, because
that only makes them worse.

John. — Don't they have tickets of leave ?

Mr. L. — It is possible, by steady good conduct with-
out insubordination, and thorough attention to rules, to
earn permission after a certain term, to be at large

WE LIVE UNDER. 119

again, with a ticket of leave. The person so released
has to remain under the eye of the police, and if he
transgresses again, he is sent back to fulfil the ori-
ginal term of his sentence. The great difficulty here is
that few are willing to employ ticket-of-leave people ;
and so there have been societies set on foot by benevo-
lent people on purpose to find work and help them,
especially the women.

George* — ^And what does become of the women 1

Mr, L. — Those who are sentenced to penal servitude
are placed at Milbank, where employments are found
for them, and well-trained matrons do their best to
train their hearts as well as their hands.

Tom, — I thought people were sent to the Bridewell.

Mr. L. — Bridewells are things of the past now.
There was once in London a spring called St. Bridget's
or St. Bride's well. Here King John had a palace,
which was re-built by Henry viii. When Bishop
Ridley set before young Edward VI. the terrible
wickedness into which London had fallen under the
bad government of the Duke of Somerset, after the
suppression of the religious houses, the young king
granted this palace to serve as a sort of Reformatory
for younger offenders. It came to be turned into a
House of Correction for lesser offences, and from its
name prisons where labour for a short period was part
of the punishment came to be called Bridewells. They
are mostly now merged in larger prisons.

John, — But there are Reformatories now. That lad,
the tramp who stole the sitting hen, was sent to
one.

Mr. L. — True ! You see boys bred up in vicious

120 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

places were often guilty of offences for which they could
not be confined long enough to be taught better. The
stealing a handkerchief, or even a purse, could not
be visited with a heavy sentence. So these wretched
children were always coming in and out of gaol, cor-
rupting one another, while old thieves kept schools to
teach stealing. If you like to take Oliver Twist out of
the library, you will see a description of such teaching.
Fagin walks about the room with things in his pockets
which his pupils in thieving have to pull out without
his feeling them.

Edward, — I remember poor Oliver thought it was a
game.

Mr. L. — A clergyman told me that he believed there
had been such a place in his distinct where a figure was
hung with bells, and the boys were trained to snatch
things out of the pockets without making them tinkle.
So what could come of sending a boy to gaol for six
weeks or so, but that he should make his companions
there all the worse, and then return to this horrible
school of vice 1

Edward. — I'm sure the little lads in my class would
think the scarecrow with bells no end of a lark !

Herbert. — I'm sure I should.

Mr. L. — Don't set it going, Herbert, my boy ! Well,
a good lady at Bristol first set hand to work — Mary-
Carpenter was her name — to reclaim these little fellows
when they came out of gaol. A good shoemaker named
Ellis did so too. Then there was the example of a very-
successful Reformatory at Mettray in France, and at
last there was an Act passed enabling these mere boys,
under short sentences, to be sent not to gaol for a few

WE LIVE UNDER. 121

weelcs, but to a Reformatory for a term of years, where
they are well taught and trained to honest labour.
Those who are strong enough often become sailors, and
are in training-ships, but " the sins of the parents are
visited upon the children " in health, and most of these
poor little fellows are weak and stunted. A hearty
country lad of thirteen, like you, Herbert, would be a
giant among them.

Edward. — Do they turn out well ]

Mr. L. — In general, I believe they do. They have
had time to grow out of their bad habits, and break off
the connection with those who have led them astray,
and they have been taught the high and holy rules of
which they were almost always perfectly ignorant.
Situations are found for them, and friends watch over
them, so that they have every fresh chance. However,
a further step was made. It was thought better to take
these poor children in hand before they have had time
to commit any great offence against the law. So certified
Industrial Schools have been set up, to which a magis-
trate can send the children of notoriously bad parents,
and little tramps, or deserted children. The county
pays for them, and in the cases where the parents can,
they are made to pay, but they have not the power to
remove them.

Albert. — It must cost ever so much.

Mr. L, — ^Not so much as the letting them grow up
to commit great crimes and be constantly in prison,
even on the lowest point of view.

Edward. — And it is a great thing to save them from
all that awful wickedness before they have done any-
thing very bad.

122 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr. L, — So it is, Edward, and those who feel this
have been working more and more to get these certified
Industrial Schools established. There are many for
boys, and now there is a great effort making to set up
others for poor little girls, who need protection even
more. And remember, boys, that if you hear of these
things as something strange and far away from you, it
is by the mercy of God who has given you homes,
parents, and examples, such as to keep you from those
depths of evil. And ah ! never never help any one
down into them !

WE LIVE UNDER. 123

CHAPTER XIV.

BATES AND TAXES.

Herheii, — There 's Mr. Bolton going his rounds.

Albert. — Father says he hates the sight of him.

John, — Why, he is a very civil sort of a chap. Is
there any harm in him ?

Albert — I don't see what right he has to come with
his paper and get our tin. Why, we couldn't have any
herrings to our supper last night, because he had come
and carried oJ0f all there was in the house.

Herbert.— All the food 1

Albert. — No, stupid ! All the coppers.

Edward, — Oh ! you are at war again, are you, Albert 1
You didn't want any one to get that watch back again
for you, then ?

Albert. — Why, what has that to do with it 1

Edward. — You didn't think the policeman took all
that trouble for nothing, eh ]

Albert. — Mr. Lamb said the magistrates did.

Mr. L. — Yes, the county magistrates can afford to
give their time to attend to the affairs of their neighbour-
hood, but as I showed you, there was no safety till there
could be paid persons to give their whole time to keep-
ing order.

124 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Herbert. — And where does the money come from ]

John. — Is it from the rates and taxes 1

Mr. L. — Exactly so. Most people dislike being
asked for money which is to bring them no present
benefit, and which is no gift on their part, and so poor
Mr. Bolton is not often welcome.

John. — Well, the Jews hated the publicans.

Mr. L. — So did the Romans. They said a publi-
can was worse than a storm of rain and wind. But
those publicans were not like our tax-gatherers. In
the first place, the tribute they collected was paid by
down-trodden nations to maintain their conquerors.
And then the publicans farmed the tribute ; that is,
a certain amount was fixed for each place, and the
publicans had whatever they could get over and above
for themselves, so that they had every temptation to
squeeze as much as they could out of the people.

Albert. — And why is it not so with tax-gatherers 1

Mr. L. — Because the amount each person has to pay
is fixed by rule, and notified to him. If he can show
that it is over-much, he can get it reduced. And
moreover, the tax-gatherer has a fixed salary, and does
not profit by what he collects.

John. — What does he do with it ]

Mr. L. — Do you mean the rates or the taxes 1 for
Mr. Bolton collects them both.

George. — I don't know what is the difference.

Mr. L. — Do you, Edward ]

Edward. — I am not sure, but I think a tax goes to
the Government of the country.

Mr. L. — And a rate ]

Edward. — Well, I know there are poor-rates.

WE LIVE UNDER. 125

Albert, — So do I — it was the poor-rate Mr. Bolton
came for.

John. — There 's a water-rate at EUerby.

Mr, L. — Well, then, a rate is generally for local
objects. What does that mean ?

Edward, — Of the place.

Mr, L, — Government does not take that, it is
managed by the appointed persons in the place where
it is levied.

Herbert, — What is there a water-rate for ]

Mr, L, — Because there would be no water to be had
at EUerby without the water-works, and it is fair that
those who use the water should pay for having these
kept up.

Albert, — And suppose they did not ]

Mr, L. — Their pipe would be cut off and they would
get none.

Albert. — It is hard that water should not be free to
everybody.

Mr, L, — It is free where there is a pure stream or
plenty of springs, but if it has to be brought by means
of expensive works, they must be paid for and kept up.

George. — Then there is the highway-rate.

Mr. L. — I suppose we all want to have good roads.

Albert. — I don't see what good it does to them who
have no horses.

Mr. L. — Why, if there were no roads, how would
you get your coal 1 or how could Mr. Kidgeway or
Mrs. Hollis get her shop supplied 1 It is all so much
off the price of everything you buy here.

Albert, — I thought it was ever so much cheaper to
get things at Ellerby.

1

126 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr, L, — So it is, but that is because Mr. Eidgeway
and Mrs. Hollis have to be at the expense of carriage
before you buy them. If the roads were like the cart
ruts in Featherbed Lane, it would be a much more
costly thing to get heavy things like coals, or flour, or
cheeses out here.

Tom, — Yes, I Ve heard mother say that what with
going in on the market cart and paying for getting
things taken home, it costs her more to go to Ellerby
for them than to get them at Ridgeway's.

Mr. L. — And if the way to Ellerby were not made
smooth and even, the cost would be ever so much
more.

Tom, — But I don*t know that we do pay rates.

Mr, L, — No, but your house does. The farmer pays
it and you give it to him through the rent you pay.
That is the usual rule with houses below a certain value.

Edward, — Who settles the rates 1

Mr. L, — There is a valuation of the houses and lands
in the parish books kept by the overseer. Each acre
or house is estimated at a certain rent, as near its worth
as may be, and the rate is so much on each pound, say
twopence or threepence. A certain sum has to be raised,
and when the whole rental of a place is known, it has to
be worked out for each house like a sum in proportion.

Edward, — yes, there are lots of such sums in the
arithmetic books.

Herbert, — Are there any more rates 7

Mr, L, — Yes, the chief of all, the poor-rate. We
will go into that more fully when we come to the poor-
law. It is enough to say at present that the guardians
meet and decide how much is needed for the expenses

WE LIVE UNDER. 127

of providing for the destitute throughout the united
parishes, and the amount is raised from the inhabitants
of the parishes, each house being rated in proportion
to the rent it brings in, or would bring in if let. Where
there is a Board School, there is also a school-rate,
raised with the poor-rate.

Albert, — And a church-rate.

Mr, L, — Which is applied to keeping the Church in
repair, the churchyard in order, and providing for some
of the expenses of the service, but that is not com-
pulsory like the rest. It used to be applied to odd
purposes, for boys at one time were paid so much a
dozen for sparrows and other small birds which were
supposed to be harmful to the crops.

Herbert, — ^What jolly fun !

George. — Father would like that. He just about
hates the little birds.

Tom, — ^But there's Miss Manners tells us they do
more good than harm, for they eat up the insects that
we could not kill any other way.

Albert, — Much a lady like her knows about it.

Tom. — Well, she 's as good as a farmer's daughter.
The old squire, her father, farmed his land, as this
squire does now, and I *ve heard mother tell how the
young ladies were about with him in the fields, — ay,
and they could make hSiy and milk a cow, and —

Albert, — Just play-work.

Mr, L, — Still, Albert, the lady is right. In new
countries, like America and New Zealand, where the
settlers began by destroying the small birds, they have
had such an intolerable plague of insects that they
were obliged to import sparrows, chaffinches, and all

128 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

the rest of them, to keep the creatures down. Nobody
kills sparrows in New York, and they hop about the
cabmen's stands, twice as pert and impudent as they
are here ; and now, so far from having a price on their
heads, little birds are protected by law. I remember an
American told me that he had seen a sparrow with the
ground quite white round him with the wings of the
insects he had eaten.

Edward, — Anyway, it was an odd thing to pay for
killing them out of the church-rates.

Mr, L. — So it was felt at last ; and the clergy and
squires put an end to the custom. Church-rates used
to be the regular rule, but now each parish is able to
follow its own judgment about levying them.

George. — But surely every place has its Church.

Mr, L. — Yes, but dissenters considered that it was
not just that they should have to pay towards the
expenses of the Church, forgetting that in most places
they had as much concern with the church-yard as
any other parishioner. Some refused to pay, and went
to prison rather than do so, and finally, it was decided
that each parish should be permitted to levy its own
church-rate or not according to the opinion of the
larger number of the parishioners. Nor when it is
levied, can any one be compelled to pay it.

Edward, — What becomes of the Church then, where
there is no rate ]

Mr, L. — The means of keeping it up are raised by
collections and subscriptions from persons who have a
respect for the honour of all that concerns the worship
of God.

Albert, — Who manage it ]

WE LIVE UNDER. 129

Tom, — The church-wardena of course. Mr. Drew is
one.

Mr, L, — And the Archdeacon and Kural Dean are
charged with keeping them up to the work, and seeing
that the church is kept in order, though, in truth, he
has no power to force these things to be done, where
a parish is grudging or careless of the honour of their
Church and Churchyard.

John, — What can be done if there is no Church rate 1

Mr. L. — Offertory collections, and gatherings from
house to house are made. We ought all of us to bear
in mind, wherever we are, and whether subject to a
rate or not, that it is part of our duty towards God to
help to provide for the care of His House and His
services.

Edward, — Is there any other rate ]

Mr. L, — ^Yes, county-rates, which are paid in to
the county treasurer, and managed by the finance
committee at the Quarter Sessions according to Acts of
Parliament. They support the police, and serve for
the expenses of all such matters as come under the
jurisdiction of the justices of the peace.

Albert, — And they don't get any of it.

Mr, L, — You need not be afraid of that, Albert.
Except such officials as the Governor of the Gaol and
the Chief Constable, who are salaried as officers em-
ployed, no gentleman obtains anything from the county
rate.

Albert, — There was a man talking on the Green
the other night, who said the magistrates all got their
share, and the guardians had two hundred a year apiece
out of the poor-rate.

I

130 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

John. — Yes, and then old Master Blake got up and
told him to keep that story for them as knew no better.
He had a brother a guardian, and he knew all that
was to be got by it was not money, but no end of
trouble and bother.

Mr, L. — ^Yes, the guardians could not help themselves
to the poor-rates, — nor the magistrates to the county-
rates — if they wished it ever so much. They do not
even apportion the amount each person pays. That is
in proportion to the rental of what he occupies as it
stands in the parish books.

Edward. — I see. So the collectors cannot go about
as the publicans did, exacting more than they ought
to take %

Mr, L. — No, for each householder knows, or may
know, what he or she ought to pay in proportion, and
if he is overcharged, he may appeal against it.

John. — Let me count over the rates.

Mr, L. — You had better begin with those which
must be paid, of necessity, everywhere.

John, — The poor-rate.

Edward. — And the county-rate.

Mr, L. — Something answering to it in such cities and
towns as have separate police and prisons of their own.

Edward. — Then the highway-rate, — for the roads.

Mr. L. — Each parish is obliged to keep the public
highways within its boundaries in order, and the work
is paid for out of the highway-rate. There are other
roads, which were made at the expense of persons who
subscribed, having obtained Acts of Parliament to
sanction the 'arrangement. These were maintained by
means of the tolls taken at turnpike gates.

WE LIVE UNDER. 131

•

Herbert — So that 's why every one calls the road to
Ellerby the turnpike road !

Mr, L, — You really did not know why it is called so,
Herbei-t %

Frank, — ^Did you never see a turnpike gate 1

John. — Why, there 's one at Carchester.

George. — ^And don't you know the funny little house
on 4ihe Ellerby road, where old Dame Watkins lives 1 —
that 's the old turnpike house — I mind the carts paying
toll there.

Edward. — ^And I remember the long list of fares on
it, about what neat cattle were to pay.

Mr. L. — Do any of you know what neat cattle are ?

Herbert. — Like the Squire's hunter *? I'm sure his
coat is neat enough.

Mr. L. — No, no, boy — ^neat cattle are nowt, or homed
cattle.

Edward. — I've read a story somewhere of an
elephant for whom the gate-keeper knew not what
toll to charge. While the keeper and the toll-man were
wrangling, the elephant took the gate off its hinges
with his trunk and walked through.

Herbert, — I recollect how, when they thought John
Gilpin was riding a race, the gates flew open wide.

Mr. L. — However, turnpikes are fast being abolished.
In towns there are also rates for keeping up the pave-
ment, lighting the streets with gas, and, as we said
before, for the supply of water.

John. — Then there are church-rates in some places.

Edward. — And school-rates in some.

Albert. — People seem to be always paying rates !

Mr. L. — So they would say of themselves, but the

132 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

rates are mostly only a few pence in the pound, and so
they are very small for those who have but few pounds.
And for them we get our share in very considerable
benefits. Now can you tell me again the difference
between rates and taxes 1

Edward, — Eates are the way of raising sums wanted
for the expenses of the place we live in, and taxes are
paid to the Grovemment, and provide for the expenses
of the whole country.

Mr, L. — That is one difference. Another is, that
most rates are fixed and levied by the local authority,
according to the requirements of the place, while taxes
— surely some of you are good historians enough to
know by whom our taxes are fixed 1

John, — It is in Parliament.

Edward, — ^Yes ; the- House of Commons.

Mr, L, — ^Right ; the whole power of imposing taxes
rests with the House of Commons, who, you know, are
elected by the people.

John. — Do they make a fresh tax every year 1

Mr, L, — Not exactly. A tax once established con-
tinues in force until there be some alteration made in
it by Parliament. Every year, however, the Chancellor
of the Exchequer has to lay before the House his
budget, that is, his estimate of the expenses and of the
means of meeting them, and the proportion of taxation
is decided and voted for accordingly. That is what is
called voting the supplies, and the Session never breaks
up till it is done.

Edward, — I have read that the Commons granting
the taxes is the great safeguard of English liberty.

Mr. L, — That is true, and I will show you how. it

WE UVE UNDER. 133

is SO another time. We will go on now to what the
taxes actually are, though I can only speak about them
so far as I understand. Taxation is of two sorts, direct
and indirect. The direct taxes are those that come as it
were straight from property. Can you tell me of one 1

John. — Is not there an income-tax ?

Mr. L, — Certainly. Every person who has more than
£1 00 a year has to pay a few pence out of each pound,
more or less, according to the expensiveness of the year.
And they have themselves to fill up the paper as to
their income, the Government trusting to their truth
and honour to do so correctly.

John. — ^Then no one pays income-tax who has less
than £100 a year]

Mr, L, — No, so as to let the burden fall on those
who can best bear it. In the same way there is an
amount to be paid on every legacy above £20, but not
on those below that sum, and, besides, the proportion
paid varies according to the relationship to the deceased.
The widow pays no legacy- duty, the children very little
in proportion, but a person who is no relation has a
much larger amount to pay. For instance : a solitary
old stranger came into a Church where every one had a
closed pew. Not one was opened to him. Every one
looked forbidding except one lady, the clergyman's wife,
who held open her door and beckoned him in. Some
years after the lady received a lawyer's letter, and found
that a large fortune had been left her by this old man,
who had no relations, and remembered her kindness.

Frank. — Is that a real true story, sir ]

Mr. L. — It is indeed. I could tell you the name of
the lady. She had an immense legacy-duty to pay, but

L- ^^"'""^ '

A.

X510

7^^

134 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

as the whole bequest was quite a surprise, she could
not murmur.

Albert. — I suppose she ought not, but I should.

George. — ^Never fear, Albert, you'll never get a
fortune from a stranger by your civility anyway !

Edward, — Are there any more such taxes?

Mr, L, — Land-tax, and house-tax, which are generally
paid by the landlord.

Edward. — And what more are there ?

Mr. L, — Those that are paid on articles in use ; of
these there were once many more, but the tendency has
been of late to take off taxes from thmgs and lay them
on property itself; and the things that are taxed are
generally not necessaries of life, nor needed for labour.

Tom. — ^I know Master Harry's little puppy has to
be paid for, though old Trusty, the sheep-dog, hasn't.
I remember, for Master Harry thought it very hard
when Trusty is four times as big as little Vick, and the
farmer told him it was because Trusty was kept for
use and Vick for play.

Albert. — And are the gentlemen's hounds taxed 1

Mr. L. — That they are, all in a lump.

John. — I thought we should have had to give away
our Hero before last New Year's day. Father said it
was more than he could stand, to give seven and six-
pence for keeping him, but Jem and I saved every copper
we could, and so did little Lucy; and, though we were a
shilling short after all, when father saw it would have
gone nigh to break her little heart to lose the old dog,
he gave us the money.

Mr. L. — Well, one can't say a dog is necessary,
though one may love the fellow heartily. And many

WE LIVE UNDER. 135

a house may be the better for the habits learned in
saving for some good worthy favourite^s licence.

George, — ^And it does hinder a lot of idle fellows
from keeping worthless curs.

Mr, L. — You will not think a tax on armorial bear-
ings unfair.

Herbert — What are they %

George, — Crests or shields, like what the Hall ser-
vants have on their buttons, and what there are on
the carriage and blinkers.

Albert. — But what are they for ]

George, — Once they were people's marks in battle
when the knights were shut up in their armour, with
visors down so that no one could see their faces.

Edward. — The same marks went on from father to
son. You may see just the same on the old monuments
in the Church, as the squire has on his carriage now.

Mr, L, — Often they were in memoiy of some great
old deed. Queen Elizabeth granted Sir Francis Drake
to bear a ship going round the globe. And in older
times, in Scotland, there were three ploughmen, a father
and two sons named Hay, who defended a mountain-
pass with their ploughshares against a number of the
enemy. King Robert Bruce gave them as much land
as a falcon could fly over in a day, and their descendants
still bear as their arms the three ploughshares, and the
falcon as their crest.

Edward, — But if people are born to them, they must
have their bearings and pay for them.

Mr. L. — Not unless they use them. If they have no
carriages, nor livery buttons, nor plate marked with
crests, and do not seal their letters with their family

136 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

arms, they are not charged for them. I remember too
a tax for hair-powder.

George, — Nobody puts that stuff in their hair but
livery servants. I saw Sir James's once in their finest
livery with it. Oh my ! weren't they swells %

Albert, — Guys, I should think !

Mr, L. — Gentlemen wore such a dress only a little
over a hundred years ago, only they had swords at
their sides, diamond buckles, and fine lace ruffles and
cravats, and ladies wore powder too.

Herbert, — There's a room at the Hall called the
Powdering closet. Father was told to go and put in a
pane of glass there, and he couldn't think what they
meant, and expected to find it full of gunpowder.

Mr. L, — I suppose the dashing on the white powder
made a great mess, and so there was a place on purpose
to do it in. When the tax was made, it touched all
the fine ladies and gentlemen, but so few (even of
servants) wear it now, that the amount for it is not
worth collecting.

Tom, — Isn't there a window-tax "J I once asked
why there are so many windows walled up at Chalk-pit
farm, and they said, " Because of the window-tax."

Mr, L. — There was a tax on windows, to which every
house was liable that had more than seven. Every little
bit of glass that let in light from outside was reckoned
as a window. It was a very good thing when that tax
was taken ofi*, for it led to the shutting out air and
light, and to the spoiling of many fine old houses.

George, — Then there's one upon carriages, isn't
there 1

Mr, L, — On all carriages kept for pleasure, but not
on carts for business, so there is another way in which

WE LIVE UNDER. 137

the taxes don't touch the poor. There have been taxes
that fell on every one, and they caused a great dis-
turbance. Can you remember one in history 1

George, — The poll-tax, which made Wat Tyler rebel.
Yes, no one could help having a head !

Edward. — And there was the hearth-tax which the
Black Prince tried to put on them in Gascony, and led
to the war.

Mr, L, — And what was as bad, the French had a
terrible salt-tax, up to the first great Eevolution, which
they made every one pay, even babies who never tasted
salt. Now, you see our assessed taxes are only on
luxuries : dogs, armorial bearings, carriages, and men-
servants. These taxes are now paid for by buying
licences at the beginning of the year, and there is also
a licence for carrying a gun, and another for leave to
kill game.

Albert. — ^Yes, I know. And why is a poor fellow not
to have his sport as well as the gentlefolks ]

Mr, L, — The poor fellow has no land to shoot on,
and would make himself a great nuisance if he were
idling about with a gun on the roads.

Albert. — But he is punished for killing a hare or
pheasant in his own field.

Mr. L. — When the field is rented, the preservation
of the game, if it is preserved, is considered in the
rent. The tenant pays less on account of what the
game may eat and for abstaining from killing it. Thus
it is a breach of covenant on his part to kill it. If it
be really his own property, he may kill game, but only
if he choose to pay a moderate sum for a licence.

Edward. — And poachers don't go out on their own
ground.

138 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

George,— -PrecioMs little they would get if they*
did!

Mr, L, — No. Poaching is flat dishonesty. It is
trespass first and then stealing.

Albert, — The hares and the birds are wild.

Mr. L. — So are the oak-trees and beech-trees in the
park, but you have no right to cut. them. Whoever
the creatures belong to, it is not to you. If poaching
is begun in idle sport and love of fun, it verjr soon
turns to greed of gain and lawlessness, and is the ruin
of many a young fellow. But we had better go back
to our taxes.

Tom, — Assessed taxes, I • saw that on the top of the
paper they left at the farm. What does it mean 1

Mr. L. — To assess is to proportion to each individual.

John. — Are those all the taxes 1

Mr. L, — Not by any means all that goes to the
revenue.

Albert. — No, I bet not ! And I say, what becomes
of it all ?

Mr. L. — You say, do you, Albert? now I suspect it
was the wise man who told you that the guardians
enjoy fortunes of £200 a year.

Albert, — He did say we paid all those things to keep
the Queen and all the princes and nobles in luxury.

Mr. L. — As to the nobles, they have nothing to do
with the taxes except to pay them. For the Queen —
Years ago the kings had great possessions of their own,
out of which they kept up their state and paid their
guards, only calling on their people for money when
there was a special need. You know Queen Elizabeth
never got any money from her people if she could help it.

Albert, — A very good thing too !

WE LIVE UNDER. 139

Mr. L. —Not quite. If a bad king could get money
without asking his people for it, he could crush them
down quite with his soldiers, as in point of fact the
French kings did. So at last the sovereign gave up
all this private property to the nation, and, in return,
an income was assured to the kings and queens with
proper provisions for their sons and daughters. Thus
you see it is a real debt from the nation to give a
maintenance to the Queen and her children ; and so
carefully was all expenditure an^anged by the Prince
Consort, that the Queen, though she gives most
liberally to all charities, and till her widowhood kept
up full state and grandeur, has never had to ask for
anything additional but maiTiage-poitions for her
daughters, and establishments for her sons.

Edward, — ^And there 's a great deal more to be done
with the money.

George, — There is paying the Army and the Navy.

Mr, L. — Keeping up our defences. Also the Judges
and all the persons in Government employment are
salaried ; and all the persons employed to look after our
affairs in foreign countries. And coming nearer home,
where did a good part of the money come from that it
cost to give you a fair education 1 The squire and
clergymen and gentry do their part, but Government,
as you know, grants money enough for each scholar to
secure that, however poor his parents may be, he shall
have the means of being properly taught. Depend
upon it, we all get much more from the rates and
taxes than we give to them. And you know to pay
them faithfully is part of our duty as Christians.

John, — ^** Render unto Caesar the things that are
Caesar's."

140 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTEE XV.

THE REVENUE.

Edward, — You said, sir, there was more to tell us
about the Revenue.

Tom.— The what %

Mr, L, — The Eevenue — a French word, re-venv£,
for what comes in over and over again. Every one's
regular receipts are his revenue, and the Revenue is
that income which provides for the expenses of the
nation. Can you think of any other way in which the
revenue is raised 1

Albert, — There's the exciseman. He comes after
money like the tax-gatherer.

Mr, L, — True. Besides the taxes we have mentioned
before, there are the Excise-duties, the Cusiom-duties
on importation, and the Stamp-duties.

Edward. — What does excise mean?

Mr, L. — It is said to come from the Latin verb
exciderey to cut out, ezcisus in the participle, and to mean
something cut oflF or out of certain articles before they
can be sold to the public. I believe custom-duties are
on things brought in from abroad, excise on those
produced at home. Excise-duties are said to have been
invented by the Dutch, in order to raise money for

WE LIVE UNDER. 141

their long and terrible war with the Spaniards, which
lasted seventy years. Afterwards, in the time of the
Great Rebellion, the Long Parliament levied an excise in
order to pay their army. There were then a great many
articles obliged to pay an excise, such as salt, leather,
candles, glass, but of late years more and more of these
duties have been taken off, till now they are levied on
scarcely anything but spirits and fermented liquors.

Albert. — And why is that 1

Mr. L. — In order to give as little encouragement as
possible to people's poisoning themselves. Spirits and
beer are cheap enough now to enable those with very
small means to do themselves an infinity of harm, and
if there were no check at all upon the amount of
drinking, it would be even more terrible.

Albert. — There is a licence to be paid for besides.

Mr. L. — Excisable articles have to be sold by what
is called a licence of excise.

George. — I. know Mrs. HoUis used to have a licence
for selling tea, coffee, tobacco and snuff.

John. — And there was a licence before a man could
let out a horse.

Mr. L. — These have been done away with now,
because the Government prefers to raise its revenue so
as to be as little check as possible on what is useful and
innocent. So there is little Custom duty, except on
tobacco and foreign spirits.

George. — And why is tobacco made to pay duty ?

Mr. L. — You can't call it a necessary of life.

George. — Old Morris says he'd sooner go without his
supper than his pipe.

Mr, L. — Perhaps if he had had less pipe in his early

142 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

life, he would have more and better suppers now. You
look doubtful, boys, but it is a pity to think of the
quantity of money that is smoked or chewed away,
which might do so much for more lasting comfort.
Even with all the duty it pays, tobacco is cheap enough
to be in the reach of every one ; but it would be nruch
wiser, now while you are young, and have all your
habits to form, if you were to resolve not to become
slaves to it.

John. — How do you mean, sir 1

Mr, L, — Why, not to form such a habit of smoking
that you should be always craving for it, and not able
to enjoy yourself without it.

John, — Father says a man is not worth his salt who
smokes over his work, unless it is in a damp unwhole-
some place, but he does like his pipe of an evening !

Mr, L, — Tobacco is really a drug useful in keeping
out the chill of damp and the like. It is a narcotic
too, and is soothing to a tired man, especially when he
cannot get enough to eat. So there is temptation to
use it far more than is wise or needful, and then it
often leads to idling and drinking.

Edward. — Then you would have us never take to it.
I shall not at any rate, for it would not look well for
schoolmaster.

Frank. — But there's no harm in it.

Mr. L. — No sin, unless the means are spent on the
indulgence that ought to go to other uses, such as help-
ing one's family. But like other pleasures, it must be
used moderately ; and there are few to whom it is a
real good, many who would do just as well, or better, if
they never touched it.

WE LIVE UNDER. 143

Herbert. — Well, tea is innocent enough at any rate.
Why was that made to want a licence %

Mr. L. — I suppose it was as being subject to a duty
as a foreign import that the licence was needed for selU
ing it, coffee and all the rest. And as to its innocence,
there were many people who cried out against it as a
weakly sickly indulgence that would hurt people's nerves.

George. — I thought people were always praising it up
now.

Mr. Z.— It well deserves praise, but a man may do
himself harm by want of moderation in anything — even
in tea, or coffee, or water. However, tea and coffee have
conquered, and the free use of them has done much to
hinder the beginnings of drunkenness. So it is well
that Government has renounced all profit on them, and
lets them be sold as cheaply as possible.

John. — T thought public-houses were licensed to se-
cure that they were respectable.

Mr. L. — The right of licensing to sell liquors has been
retained in this case by the Government, because of the
power this gives of keeping the publicans under control.
Indeed, places of entertainment had begun to be
licensed long before the excise on liquors had been
invented. Do you know the Chequers inn at EUerby 1

George. — Yes, father always puts our cart up there.
A queer old place the yard is as ever I saw. And
there is an odd criss-cross pattern of colours on the
shutters.

Mr. L. — I was going to tell you that I have some-
where read that in the time of the Norman kings the
right of licensing places of public entertainment was
granted to the Earls Warrenne, and that chequers, the

144 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

pattern you speak of, were their coat of arms, which
they placed upon all such houses, and that thus it was
that so many old public-houses bear the sign of the
Chequers without in the least knowing why. However,
it is more certain that the regular system of licences
to public-houses began in 1551, under King Edward VI.

Edward, — Then it belonged to the Reformation 1

Mr, L, — Why, no, Edward, I am afraid the first
purpose was to bring money into the Duke of Somerset's
pocket, but the rule thus begun has become in later
times one great means of keeping evil in check. Now
licences are only granted on the presentation of a
properly signed certificate that a public-house is wanted.
And then it is in the power of the magistrates to
refuse if they think fit. Also, as you know, no one
can hold a licence who has been convicted of a crime.
It may be taken away if the house is reported to be
disorderly by the police, who may enter it at any hour,
and it may not be kept open later than ten at night in
the country, or eleven in London, except on any
special occasion, when permission must be obtained.
So that these licences are used as means of keeping
all publicans on their good behaviour. All places of
public amusement, such as play-houses, have in like
manner to be licensed, and the power this gives of
preventing mischief is more valuable than the gain to
the revenue.

John, — I thought the revenue officer was the lieutenant
who commands the Preventive men. They call him so
at Seacombe, where my uncle lives.

Mr, L. — And rightly. What are the Preventive
men to prevent ]

John. — Smuggling, of course.

WE LIVE UNDER. 146

Mr, L, — And what is smuggling ?

John, — Getting in things free of duty, isn't it %

Mr, L, — ^Now we come to what we mean by duty.

Edward, — ^What is due.

Mr, L, — Yes. In this sense it means what is due to
the Crown. Originally it was thought that the best
way to protect and encourage the trade and manu-
factures of each country was to make almost every
foreign commodity as costly as possible, so that people
might be driven to use what was made at home.

George. — Well, so they ought. Old Tailor Harvey
has lost ever so much custom since people took to
buying their suits ready-made at Ellerby.

Tom, — ^Yes, but mother says ever so many more
people wear cloth now than when she was a girl. She
3ays her brothers never went about in anything better
than fustian, and her father had a white smock-frock
for Sundays.

John. — Ay, Dick Harvey says his father doesn't
rightly remember, for he is sure they have more work
now with mending, than they used to have with making.

Mr, L, — ^We can't go into all those questions, which
belong to what is called political economy. I have
only to tell you that every country used to suppose it
right that its own inhabitants should buy all they
could of one another, instead of importing goods from
elsewhere. So at every seaport or entrance to any
country, a Custom-house was built, and all the owners
of foreign goods passing it were made to pay a fixed
sum before the things could be brought into the country.
Travellers' luggage was searched, and nothing subject to
duty was allowed to pass without payment of custom

K

146 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

being made. Indeed, at the time of the great war with
Napoleon, all trade with the countries of his empire, or
with those subject to his power, was forbidden.

John, — And smuggling was trying to get things in
without paying.

Mr, L, — Yes. Many people's notions of right and
wrong were strangely confused. They forgot the
Scripture rule — ^Do you know it 1

John, — " Tribute to whom tribute is due, custom to
whom custom."

Mr, L. — Yes, but many who would never have stolen
from a neighbour thought it no disgi'ace to rob the
King and Government, or to encourage those who did so.
French silks, lace, wine, brandy, and many other things,
were thought better than English ones. So high a
price would be given, especially for spirits, lace and silk,
that men would run terrible risks to bring them in.

John, — Now I see. There's an old book in the
lending library, where, when some ladies staying by the
seaside are buying lace, the woman who brings it tells
them they are bargaining for men's lives.

Mr, L, — Even so. There were — indeed there still
are — stations with Preventive men at each fishing
village on the coast, whose duty it is to prevent any
goods which ought to pay duty from being landed.
The smugglers were often fierce and resolute men, and
there were sometimes fights with the Preventive Service
men, in which blood was shed on each side. Old men
on the coast have strange tales to tell of the wild doings
pf their youth ; how they had hiding-places in rocks
and cellars, and horses to carry away the goods to
distant caverns as soon as they were landed in some bay.

WE LIVE UNDER. 147

Herbert,-— yes ! I We read smuggling stories, and
they are very jolly !

Mr. L, — They sound so now, but it was a desperate
and mischievous trade, and made men very lawless and
reckless.

Herbert.-^ls there no smuggling now ?

Mr. i.— Very little. Free trade has come in now,
and French goods, or t^ose from anywhere else, can be
bought and sold without pajring toll as formerly. The
actual cost of carriage and middle-men's profits is now
almost all that is added to the price of the tilings
brought from foreign parts ; all except brandy and other
kinds of spirits, tobacco, and some articles of luxury
which still pay heavy duties.

Frank. — Then does smuggling still go on ?

John. — I'm sure there are still Prevwitive men.

Mr. L. — Smuggling of spirits and tobacco does still go
on. Brandy can be distilled more cheaply in vine-growing
countries, and there is thus temptation enough to make
the rougher and more evil-minded sort of folk still try
to cheat the revenue. There is no doubt it would be
much more done if the continual watch did not make
it very difficult. And there are other benefits in having
Preventive men at hand. They are generally men who
have been in the Royal Navy, and are commanded by
a naval officer, and they are always ready to assist if a
vessel is in distress, or to hinder a wreck from being
plundered, before the agents from the shipping-office
can come to see about it.

Albert. — Lots of folks see no, harm in smuggling or
in deceiving the exciseman. I Ve heard them tell no
end of droll stories about their tricks.

'148 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr, Z. — ^No doubt there are those who cannot see
the crime of defrauding the country to which they
belong, and which protects them.

John, — It must be a sort of stealing.

Mr, L, — ^Not only a sort of stealing, — it is stealing ;
and the clever tricks Albert speaks of, so far from being
matter of pride, are really shameful falsehoods. It is
no better to cheat one's Queen than to cheat one's next-
door neighbour.

John, — The Government must want a heap of money
to pay for all you told us of.

Mr, L. — And for far more than I told you of. A
war too always greatly increases the need for money.
You heard how the Excise-duties were begun in order
to support the troops in the Great Rebellion. Well,
when William ill. was king, there were calls for money
to carry on the wars with the French, and Stamp-duties
were then invented.

Herbert, — Why, stamps are queen's heads upon letters.

George, — ^There 's a stamp on my indentures.

Mr, L, — Stamps (not post-office ones, Herbert, we
shall come to them by and by) are tokens of being
authorised by Government. At first, they were put on
all kinds of paper used for writing or printing. They
were affixed to the paper before it was sold, and
were included in the price to the buyer. I think
they were supposed to vouch for the paper being made
of good materials. Of course you know what they
arel

Herbert. — Linen rags.

George, — Oh, but some paper is made of straw.

Mr, L, — Now it is.' But if you had ever touched the

WE LIVE UNDER. 149

old-fashioned paper, such as I have seen used for docu-
ments of fifty or a hundred years ago or more, you would
see that there was a great difference. The old paper may
be less smooth and white, but it is most tough and
lasting, and every sheet of letter-paper had the stamp
of the royal arms in the comer.

Edward, — But need it all be so good %

Mr, L, — That was just the point. When few persons
could write, the deamess of paper was not a serious
matter, and the good texture was thought worth pay-
ing for. But it is of course not worth while to have
lasting paper for every trumpery note, that is not
wanted for an hour, or for such uses as copy-books in
all the schools. So the stamp-duty was taken off, and
since that time, many experiments have been tried as
to the cheapest and best material for paper, and books
and everything else in which paper is used have be-
come much less costly.

Edward. — Were not newspapers stamped tool

Mr. L, — Yes. The stamp answered two purposes.
It gave permission to publish them, and it sanctioned
the post in taking them at a cheaper rate, provided the
stamp was made visible, the issue was fresh, and there
was not one bit of additional writing. If people wrote
" all's well," or " look at such a column," the receiver
was charged just as if the paper was a letter, and that
was something serious in those days.

Albert, — ^And now they all go just like any other
book parcel.

Mr, L, — ^For less, in proportion to their weight, if
they are registered as newspapers, and are not above a
week old. There was a duty on advertisements too

150 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

which has now been taken off, so that newspapers have
become infinitely cheaper.

JSdward. — Is that a good thing, sir I

Mr, L. — ^An old Devonshire man did not think so.
" What 's the gude of the papper," said he, " when every
fule can read nn 1 " Bat like other things, it entirely
depends on the use that is made of it. Anybody can
publish almost anything now, and it is oar own duty to
choose the good and avoid the evil. Low papers, that
are filled with the foal details of crime, with the aceonnts
of prize fights, and with imaginary tales of robbers and
villains, ought to be avoided as you would avoid small-
pox or any horrible disease. I am afraid young men
and lads in towns are often terribly tempted by these.

John. — When I was at my uncle's, a boy who some-
times went with my cousins, lent me a number of one
of those penny papers, but I couldn't get on with it ;
and when I wanted him to read The Boy Hunters
he said it was flat.

Mr. L. — Yes, if people once spoil their minds with

that sort of excitement, they lose their relish for what

is harmless, however spirited it may be : —

** The seared taste from foulest wells
Is fain to slake its fire."

Albert. — There was a paper that one of our lodgers
left once, and father put it straight into the fire. He
said he wouldn't have our Florence read it, not for a
hundred pounds.

Mr. L. — T honour your father for that, Albert. But
mind, ^ Blessed are the pure in heart," was said as much
for men as for women. And there is another sort of
paper you should never be led by curiosity to read, I

WE LIVE UNDER. 151

mean those that make light of religion, and are full of
sly scoffs at the Christian faith and at those who be-
lieve and teach it.

EdwaarcL — ^Why are people allowed to publish such
things!

Mr. L. — ^It is thought better in these days that all
should be said out without control, and subjects be
freely discussed and judged, than that doubt and dis-
content should smoulder on, and people should fancy that
there was a fear of letting them speak truth. This
power of printing whatever we please is called " Liberty
of the Press." It throws on each person the responsi-
bility of thinking for himself, and choosing good or
eviL Another sort of paper to be avoided is that which
tries to make its readers discontented, and represents
all that belongs to the Queen, the clergy, or the nobles
as if it belonged to the people, and as if it was robbery
to take it from them.

Albert. — Some of our lodgers bring plenty of papers
that say the gentlemen are all oppressors, and suck the
blood of the people, and that parsons are as bad or worse.

Mr. L. — I hope the authors are as ignorant as those
for whom they write. I thought you had got hold of
some of those sort of papers, Albert.

Albert. — ^Well, sir, you don't say like them, and you
seem to know all about it.

Mr. L. — I hope some at least of your notions have
been cleared up.

George, — But shouldn't one read the papers, sir ]

Mr. L. — There 's no objection to doing that, George.
The great London daily papers, known by name to all,
are mostly free from the chief evils I have told you of.

152 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Some of them, you know, you can see at the club read-
ing-room ; and as to the papers about our own county
and town matters, it is best to choose those which we
know the most sensible and good men about us to
prefer. But to return to the stamps. The chief use of
them at present is that all receipts for sums above two
pounds must have a penny stamp affixed to them.
You see this sum is only a 480th part at the utmost of
what is received, so that it can be well spared.

George, — ^And now that one may put on a postage
stamp, there is less trouble.

Albert, — ^Suppose I did not put one on 1
Mr. L. — Then if the bill were sent in over again, the
receipt would not be accepted as evidence that you had
paid it.

Albert.— y^hy not 1

Mr, L, — Because the condition of being protected by
the Laws is obeying them one's-self.

Edward, — Besides, all agreements have to be on
stamped paper —

Mr, L, — The cost of which is according to the sum
of money involved in the matter. The agreement is
thus made more valid and binding, and can be brought
forward in a court of law. You will observe then that
though the Revenue must be raised, it is done in ways
as little vexatious and oppressive as possible, and which
only affect those who can best afford to give something.
Almost the only burthens lie upon intoxicating liquors
and on a few luxuries, and, in the case of stamps, much
security is given in return.

Herbert, — Please, sir, you have said nothing about
postage stamps.

WE LIVE UNDER. 153

Edward. — Why, they are only the way of paying the
postage of a letter beforehand.

John. — But the Postmaster-General is one of the
Queen's ministers, for his name is in the Almanac.

Mr. L. — True, for the Post-office is under Govern-
ment, and though we can hardly connect it with the
Laws, it is a very important source of revenue, and
one that even Albert cannot object to.

Albert. — How does it come to be under Government ?

Mr. L. — Because our Kings were obliged to provide
that their letters should be carried as fast as possible,
and then other persons made use of their messengers
or posts. To secure speed when a letter was sent by
messenger, the sender used to write outside, " Speed,
post, speed, speed," or " Eide, ride, ride, for thy life,
for thy life, for thy life." The history of the Post-
office is a most curious and interesting matter, but we
cannot go into it now. It will be enough to tell you
that there was a Master of the King's Posts under
Henry viii. In the time of Queen Anne, something
like our present post was established, but all the letters
were carried in parcels on the backs of horses till 1784,
when they were taken in mail-coaches. As weight was
a great consideration, only one sheet might be sent for
the lowest price, and the charge was according to the
distance, so that poor people were quite cut off from
hearing of one another.

Tmi. — Granny says she only had one letter from her
brother in all his life, and that cost elevenpence.

Mr, L. — The payment was generally made by the
receiver. Indeed it was thought rather insulting to
prepay a letter, and much correspondence was checked

164 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

ft

by disHke to put a heavy expense on those who could
ill afford it. At last a clever schoolmaster named
Kowland Hill, just as railways were invented, and
weight became a less serious consideration, devised a
scheme which was taken up by Government in 1839, and
has worked so well as to be adopted all over the world,
namely, the causing all letters to be pre-paid, as they are
now, by stamps in proportion to their weight. This
made it so easy to send letters that multitudes came
in, and the payment for them, as the system has spread
more and more, has been very profitable, and has done
much to enable Government to lessen other burthens
on the people, while it is an infinite benefit to every one.

Edward, — ^My mother would not like never to hear
of me without having elevenpence to pay !

Mr. L, — Or eightpence, or fourpence at the least.
From one part of London to another there was a two-
penny post, a private speculation, but that was the
cheapest in England.

George, — And this revenue, as you call it, goes in
paying the people employed by Government, judges,
soldiers, sailors, clerks.

Mr, L. — And in building and keeping up ships' wear,
providing cannon, rifles, and all our defences, and in
ten thousand more ways than we can reckon. The
accounts are well looked after year by year, and ren-
dered in, but to guess at their items is more than
we could do»

John. — One thing more, sir. Isn't there a National
Debtl

Mr, L. — Yes! In the time of William IIL and
Queen Anne, the wars with the French cost more than

WE LIVE UNDER. 155

the taxes could raise. So Government borrowed
money of any who had any to lay by, giving regular
interest every year. This has gone on ever since, and
as the Grovernment is not like a private company, and is
as sure as anything can be not to fail to pay, it affords
really the safest way of disposing of one's capital, though
it does not give such high interest as capital which is
employed in trade.

Albert, — Then who is the creditor in the National
debtl

Mr, L, — Everybody who has what is called money
in the funds, or in Government securities. Yes, and
everybody with money in a post-office savings-bank.

John, — And can one always get the money back ]

Mr. L, — Yes, always.

John, — Then the National Debt does no one any
harm?

Mr, L, — No, except so far that the interest to be
paid has to be considered in the amount of revenue to
be raised. But that is not of much account, considering
what we even now are saved from by our fathers
having defended our country in the great wars against
the French.

156 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER XVI.

THE POOR LAWS.

Tom, — The relieving officer says he must come into
the House.

Herbert, — Who is that, Tom ?

Tom. — Why, old Jem Thwaytes ; now his poor old
wife is dead, there 's no one to do anything for him
and nothing to keep him.

Mr, L, — Is he the old tottering man whose wife was
buried yesterday 1

Tom.— Yes, sir, a hard time she had of it, poor old
soul. My mother was always sorry for her, for she
says all her life 'twas nothing but work, work, work
for her, and drink, drink, drink for him.

Mr. L. — Were there no children ?

Tom, — I believe there was a son, but he ran away
with a summons out against him, and nobody knows
what became of him.

Mr, L, — So there is nothing to keep the old man
from the workhouse. It is all that lies between him
and starvation.

George, — That is what Unions are for, is it not, sir 1

Mr. L. — ^Yes, they are meant to prevent any one
from perishing from actual destitution. .

John. — That is what is done with the poor-rates.

WE LIVE UNDER. 157

Albert. — So the guardians grind the faces of the poor.

George. — Come now, Albert, what paper does that
come out of 1

Herbert. — I think it is out of the magic lantern slide,
where the old man is having his long nose ground off.

Albert. — ^You laugh, but I know what I say. Why
wouldn't they give Mrs, Long relief]

Mr. L. — ^Why ? because it is more her own children's
business to maintain her than it is your father's.

Albert.— Mj father's 1

Mr. L. — Yes, the cost of every fresh person main-
tained by the parish adds to every one's rates, does it
not 1 It is your father's face, and all the faces of the
small and great rate-payers that would be ground if
the guardians gave relief where it was the duty of the
relations to maintain a person.

George. — Please, sir, begin at the beginning, and tell
us all about it.

Mr. L. — Well, we must begin from the times of
slavery.

Herbert. — Were there ever slaves here, sir 1

Mr. L. — Not after the Eoman times, I fancy, but
when the Saxons came, they made the natives whom
they found living on the land, serfs or thralls. These
were not quite like the old Roman slaves, or the negro
slaves you have heard of, for they could not be sold
away from their homes on the estate, nor have their
families broken up. They went with the land, the law
protected them, and their lord was obliged to have a
Church with a parish priest to watch over them, on his
estate, and also he was bound not to misuse them, nor
leave them to starve in their old age.

156 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Ser&fir/.-r— Could they be set free ?

Mr. Zu — O yes 1 Edward shall read us the manu-
mission, that is, the freeing of a faithftil serf, from Sir
Walter Scott's Ivanhoey after he has done good service
to his master.

*** Kneel down, Garth,' said his lord, Cedric. The swine-
herd was in an instant at his master^s feet. ' Theow and Ksne
art thoii no longer,' said Cedric, touching him with a wand ;
' Folk-free and sacless art thou in town and from town, in the
forest as in the field. A hide of land I give to thee in my
steads of Walhui^ham, from me and mine to thee and thine
aye and for ever ; and a malison on his head who this gainsays ! '

** No longer a serf, but a freeman and a landholder, Gurth
sprung upon his feet, and twice bounded aloft to almost his
own height from the ground.

" * A smith and a file,' he cried, * to do away the collar from
the neck of a freeman ! Noble Master ! doubled is my strength
by your gift, and doubly will I fight for you ! There is a free
spirit in my breast — I am a man changed to myself and all
around ! Ha, Fangs ! ' he continued, — for that faithful cur,
seeing his master thus transported, began to jump upon him, to
express his sympathy, — * knowest thou thy master still ? " '

Herbert. — What was the collar 1
Mr. L. — Here is the description when Gurth first
makes his appearance : —

" It was a brass ring, resembling a dog's collar, but without
any opening, and soldered fast round his neck, so loose as to
form no impediment to his breathing, yet so tight &s to be incap-
able of being removed, excepting by the use of the file. On this
singalar gorget was engraved, in Saxon characters, an inscrip-
tion of the following purport : — 'Gurth, the son of Beowulph,
is the born thrall of Oedric of Botherwood." *

Albert, — Just like a dog !

Edward. — I don't know what all these words mean.

WE LIVE UNDER. 159

Mr. L, — Look at the end of the chapter. Our master,
who knew Anglo-Saxon, helped me to note them down.

Edward (reads) — Theow and esne both mean serf or
bondsman ; folk-free explains itself; mcless*, or soccage-
less, seems to mean free from obligation.

Herbert — ^What did Oedric give himi

Mr, L. — A hide of land. I don't know what that
measured, but it was supposed to be just enough for
one man to till in a year.

George. — Would he pay no rent ?

Mr. L. — No, but he would still be bound to come
out bringing provisions for forty days, to fight for his
lord, also to help to get in his crops for so many days,
and to pay certain dues, if the lord knighted his eldest
son, gave his daughter in marriage, or if the head of
either family died. This was only in return for the
land he held. If he chose to throw up the land, he
was free.

George. — When was all this ]

Mr. L. — The adventures in Ivanhoe are supposed to
have taken place just when Richard the Lion-heart
came home from his crusade, but serfs and bondsmen
remained in the same condition aD through the next
century and the one after it, though I do not think
they wore collars. The Normans called these bondmen
villains in gross.

Herbert. — Villains ! what a shame !

Mr, L, — VUla was the Latin for a farm. It is
what our term village comes from, and the villains were
the bondsmen attached to the manor.

Edtoard. — ^I am afraid they could hot have been good
for much, to make villain mean what it does now !

160 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr. L. — Perhaps it was only used to mean a low
fellow. HoweveTy the villains in gross or bondsmen were
sometimes much oppressed What I believe brought
the first change to them was the terrible Black Death
in the time of Edward III. They lived in miserable
hovels, dirty and wretched^and the pestilence killed off
whole villages full. Some estates were left with no
one to cultivate them, towns were half-emptied, and
the survivors were tempted to run away to other places,
and here show themselves as freemen and get wages.
Parliament made absolutely savage laws against these
runaways. They were branded and beaten if they were
caught, and if one was found living away from his
master^s manor, and working at a trade, he was liable
to be dragged back to his old bondage and severely
punished. I believe it was partly these severities,
added to the poll-tax, that led to Wat Tyler's Bebellion.

Edward. — ^Did not King Bichard ii. make them many
fair promises and keep none of them )

Mr. L. — ^Perhaps he meant to do better than he was
allowed to accomplish. He was only sixteen, and never
could do much against the selfish men about him. In
the next Parliament there was some talk of abolishing
serfdom, but the masters would not hear of it, and laws
were made, that if a man were found away from his
home as a vagabond, he should be put in the stocks
till he gave security that he would return to the place
where he was bom. There was also a petition that
serfs should be punished if they sent theii: sons to
school so as to be trained for clergy, because then the
master lost their services, but King Bichard never con-
sented to this demand.

WE LIVB UNDER. 161

Frank, — Those people weren't like the gentle-folks
now, who are always after us to go to school.

Mr, L. — Noy but the Church has always been the
same in helping the poor. Alms were largely given at
all the monasteries, and if a villain's son wished to
learn he could find a convent school to teach him.

George, — ^And how were these bondmen made free ?

Mr, L, — ^There is no real record. The masters' hand
gradually weighed less hard on them, and by the time
the wars of the Eoses were over there seems to have been
hardly any actual serfdom. There were statutes in the
time of Henry vii. for punishing or sending to their settle-
ment sturdy beggars, but not for sending home a labourer
maintaining himself. But you see freedom brought
difficulties. A sick or broken-down old bondsman was
maintained by his lord, but when he ceased to belong
to the property, he had no claim.

Herbert — ^Did he starve ]

Edward, — Or did the monks in the convents feed him ]

Mr, L, — Generally they would do so, and crowds
used to throng the convent gates, often idle, beggarly
folk, but great numbers of the really feeble and destitute.
But when King Henry viii. broke up the abbeys, it
was a terrible stroke on the poor. Not only were there
all the sick, aged, and infirm deprived of support, but
quantities of people were thrown out of work, such as
servants and labourers of all kinds. The plough lands
of the abbeys were often turned by the nobles to whom
they were granted into pastures for sheep, so that
labourers were not wanted, and distress was terrible.
Sir Thomas More once said a sheep did more harm than
a lion, so many ploughed fields were laid down to feed

L

162 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

flocks. The Parliament of Henry viiL was cruel enough
to enact that if an able-bodied man were found begging,
he should be put in the stocks, and have the letter Y.,
for vagabond, branded on him. He was then to be
made a slave to any one who chose to demand him, and
who might keep him two years, and force him to work
by the whip or chains. If he ran away within the
time, he was branded with S., and made a slave for
life ; if he ran away again, he might be hung as a felon.

Edward, — That was the way the 72,000 people came
to be hung under Henry VIIL, I suppose.

Mr. L, — Partly. I imagine the king and his lords did
not realise that there really was not work enough, and
wanted to threaten people into diligence. Besides, a
masterful beggar, as some of the old statutes call him,
could not have been a pleasant person to meet in a lane,
or to have knocking at your house door, and he was
most likely to do something to deserve punishment. The
Bridewell was first intended as a place for correcting such
vagabonds, and teaching them some trade. Then, under
Edward VI., it was further enacted that the minister
and churchwardens should in each parish collect alms
for the maintenance of their poor. If a householder
would not give, they were to admonish him, and if
their exhortation had no effect, they were to report to
the Bishop, who was to reprove him.

Albert, — Did that do much good 1

Mr, L, — I am afraid that it did not do enough good,
especially during the troubles of Queen Mary's time.
Indeed, when she died, there were nine sees without
any Bishops at all. When the sees were filled up,
Queen Elizabeth, in her third year, empowered the

WE UVJ5 UNPBR. 163

Bishops to summon the uncharitable householder before
the Justices of the Peace, who would force him to give
his due share. Eleven years later, in 1562, there
was a weekly charge made regularly on all house-
holders in each parish ; for the maintenance of the
destitute, the magistrates were to determine the settle-
ment of the poor, and further, they gave licences to the
really old, maimed, blind, helpless, or the like, to go
about begging. Those who begged without a licence
were whipped at the cart's tail, branded with a hot iron
in the ear, sent to prison if they persevered, and even
at last hung. But things were righting themselves
under Queen Elizabeth; there was more trade and
more work; farms were got into order, and distress
was not so great, so that strong men did honest labour
at home, instead of becoming masterful beggars.

George, — Was Queen Elizabeth's the Old Poor Law
that people talk of 1

Mr. L. — It was the beginning of it. Each parish,
you see, was rated at a vestry meeting to maintain its
own destitute persons, and the administration was given
to the churchwardens, and overseer, with an appeal to
the Justices of the Peace at the petty sessions.

Tom. — I *ve heard Granny say that if the parish
would not give the poor enough, they could go to the
magistrates.

Edward. — ^And did the law answer, sir 1

Mr. L. — So far that there was less begging in
England than anywhere else, and when workhouses
were added in the time of George I. to shelter orphans
and houseless people, it was thought all had been done
that could be needed.

164 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Edward, — ^And were people better off then, sii*?

Mr, L, — I believe that in good season^ they had
more food — more milk, and more meat, but their bread
was of barley, and in bad seasons they suffered horribly.
For clothes, they were much worse off. Children used
to gather wool left by the sheep on the thorn bushes,
for their mothers to spin, and they generally ran about
barefooted. Then their houses were such as you
would hardly put a tolerable cart-horse into.

George, — Oh, but sir, all the old cottages here are
much better built than the new, except those of Squire's
own building. The lot of oak timber in some of them
is a real wonder !

Mr, L, — I believe those old cottages, like Baker Lee's,
w6re really little farm-houses. There were then many
small landholders, smock-frock farmers as they were
called, who did their work by the help of their families,
sent their sons and daughters out to service, and though
they lived as hard, and worked harder than the la-
bourers, never thought of parish help, or they would
have forfeited their land. The hovels of a worse
description have no doubt perished.

Edward, — How long did this old Poor Law last 1

Mr, L.— Till 1834. I don't know how it worked
in the old times, but I have heard much of what the
effects were just before the Poor Law Amendment
Act. Each parish managed its own affairs, so some
were different from others, but this is what I know
was true. It was agreed (as it is now), that no one
was to starve. So if a man said he had not wages
enough to maintain his family, he could get a fresh
allowance from the parish for each child that was born

WE LIVE UNDER. 165

to him, and if he would not trouble himself to work pro-
perly, and nobody would employ him, there he still was,
the parish giving him so much a week. If the over-
seer said he was an idle fellow, and deserved no help, he
went off to the magistrates, and got an order for relief,
George, — Not going into the workhouse 1
Mr. L. — ^Most likely not, and if he did, it was
probably no great change. He took his furniture, and
had one or two rooms given him where he lived with his
wife and family. There was often no governor, nor any
one to keep order, and the roughest and most good-
for-nothing men and women and wildest children got
together there, and made it a shocking place.
George. — If there was no work to be had %
Mr. L. — The parish officer sometimes tried to make
some. They set their paupers to break stones on the
road. I once heard an old man say that he had seen
strong men each wheel one barrow with a little chalk in
it, and empty it out, and then be paid enough to keep
their whole families for a week.

Edward. — Where did the money come from 1
Mr. L. — Out of the pockets of the ratepayers. You
will not wonder that the poor little smock-frock farmers
could not hold out against such burthens, but often had
to sell, or cease to rent, their holdings, and become
labourers, though often the honourable resolution never
to take parish pay remained with them and their
families, and made them the most industrious labourers.
But it was of little use to be a good workman, for the
farmers, being absolutely obliged to maintain the idle,
gave low wages, and made up the rest from the rates.
John. — Couldn't people get work elsewhere ?

166 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr, L, — The farmers of other places dreaded nothing
60 much as the coming of a new family which might
gain a settlement and become chargeable to them.
Cottages were pulled down on purpose to keep out
strangers, and while all the anxiety of the parish was to
keep down the rates, it was after all forced to pay
people for being lazy and vicious. The farmers, who
had been very well off when prices were high in the
time of the great French war, really were getting
crushed by this state of things, and the poor themselves
were being spoilt. Then was devised the new plan,
which many people thought very hard.-

Edward. — Then there came to be Unions.

Mr, L. — You see one parish might have several rich
and not many poor in it, while another would have a
large number of very wretched people, and no resident
gentry. So it made things more even to put them
together, and it also saved much expense for them to
club so as to have but one workhouse, one doctor, one
relieving officer, and so on. Each parish, you know,
elects its own Guardians of the poor from among the
ratepayers, and Justices of the Peace are always
Guardians by their office. These have, as of old, to
prevent any one from starving, but they are not to keep
him at his ease at other people's expense. So, the
workhouses were put under strict government ; and if
able-bodied people asked for help, they found it was
not to keep them in idleness. They had to work,
picking oakum, digging, washing ; and no relief was to
be had out of the house, except for the sick and dis-
abled, or children of widows.

Herbert. — But isn't it a shame to part husbands and
wives ?

WE LIVE UNDER. 167

Mr. L, — It does fall hard on old people sometimes,
but the able-bodied man who brings his family to the
workhouse does not deserve to be with them, and most
likely they are much better without him.

Edward. — I never knew an able-bodied man in the
house.

Mr. L. — No. When the men found that they could
not get relief without leading a very unpleasant life,
they managed to. get work. Some went to the factories,
others emigrated, the gentry and farmers cultivated
more land and employed more hands, and now we
certainly never think of a family having relief except
in sickness. Industry was really brought back again,
and encouraged, and the laws of settlement were also
made lighter, so that it has become quite easy to move
about in search of employment since there has ceased
to be a dread of fresh families becoming chargeable.

Edward. — I see — refusing to help people has made
them help themselves much more.

George. — But haven't the Guardians grown harder
and harder about relief]

Mr. L. — It looks so. But it is the outcome of much
thought. It was found that though men will work,
they will not save, and that though the workhouse is
dreaded, there is, or was, no such shame about parish
pay. So that people spent all their money on them-
selves, and the instant they were ill, or when they grew
old, expected the parish to make up to them. Their
children in the same way did not feel called on to keep
them in their old age, and it is not fair to expect the
independent struggling ratepayers to make up for what
has gone in beer and smoke.

Tom, — I 'm sure, sir, there 's precious little to save.

168 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

«

Mr, L, — You, Tom, as a widow's son, are keeping the
family, and doing the work of the father, but you,
Frank and John, whose fathers are strong and hearty,
and earning full wages, how about yours % I don't
want you to tell me, and you don't get men's wages
yet, but you soon will, and there will probably be a
time before you marry, and it may be for some time
after, when you will do wisely to keep putting something
by. Then, when your parents grow old, you may be
able to share with your brothers and sisters the honour
of supporting them in comfort, and you in your old age
need not in your turn weigh over heavily on dutiful
children.

John (sheepishly). — One doesn't look on to that.

Mr, L, — ^No, but what 's the use of all your education
but to teach you to look forward 1 While men were
ignorant serfs, cared for like cattle, they could shut their
eyes to the certainty that if they lived, old age nyu&i
come and sickness most likely will. Now, there is no
real excuse for strong young men wasting their means on
what only hurts them, body and soul, and leaving their
parents to be maintained at other people's cost.
England expects every man to do his duty, and it is a
duty to provide for one's own household. You need not
hoard, nor go without any reasonable healthful pleasure
in moderation, but if you live the life that Christian
self-ruling men and lads should lead, unless some
misfortune should be sent upon you by the will of
Heaven, there is every reason to think you will have the
means to help your parents and friends, and prevent
yourselves from becoming miserable burthens either to
the parish or to charity.

W'E LIVE UNDER* 169

CHAPTEE XVII.

CHURCH PATRONAGE.

Albert, — Sir, you said we were to read the papers
and make up our minds. There was a man left such a
one at our house to-day. It says the Archbishops are
fattening on the vitals -and sucking the life-blood of
the country, and the Bishops have ever so many livings,
and my uncle told me I was to ask you what you said
to that ]

Mr. L. — Say? Why, judging by his picture in
Church Bells, if these vitals are so fattening, the Arch-
bishop can't have a large share.

Albert, — But what do you say in earnest, sir 1

Mr, L, — First I must know what this saying means.
Did you say vitals or victuals, Albert ]

Albert (sulkily). — Vitals. Of course I know the word.

Mr. i. — And what does it mean 1

Albert, — It means — oh ! I know what it means very
well.

Mr. L. — Then pray tell us.

Albert. — It means — well, something like the inwards
of a pig.

Mr. L. — Thank you, and what then are the vitals of
the country 1

170 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Albert. — Oh ! of course every one knows.

Mr, L, — I want to see if you know.

Albert, — Why, George Morris, I won't stay here if
I am to be laughed at.

Mr, L. — Never mind, George. Your uncle asked what
I said to this dreadful account of the Archbishops, and
1 wanted an explanation of it.

Albert (mumbles out). — Only that they get lots of
money.

Mr, L, — I suppose that is about as near as the
writer himself could come to the meaning, if we had
him here. And he wants you to suppose that we are
all the poorer and more miserable for it, and that it
comes in some way out of our pockets.

Albert, — And aren't the Bishops paid out of the
taxes 1

Mr, L, — Not a farthing of them.

Albert, — I thought there were tithes.

Mr. L, — So there are, but the Bishops have no part
in them.

Albert. — They get their money out of the livings
then?

Mr, L. — No. They only give them to other people.

Tom. — Then what does the man mean %

Edward, — Nonsense,- 1 suppose.

Mr, L, — Something very like it. Here, Albert, I '11
try to show you the truth of the matter. When the
English were first converted —

Herbert. — In the time of St. Augustine and King
Ethelbert.

Mr, L, — Yes. There was little money then and
much land. So as each kingdom was converted and a

WE LIVE UNDER. 171

Bishopric set up, the king endowed it with lands, that
is, he gave estates on the produce of which the Bishop
might maintain himself and his people, and give away
alms, build churches, and meet other calls. On these
estates, with others presented to them in like manner,
the Archbishops and Bishops went on living, one after
another, for more than a thousand years, giving the
people a great deal, building churches, endowing
hospitals and colleges, but not taking anything from
them.

Edioard, — ^Not even before the Eeformation.

Mr, L. — No. The Popes forced both clergy and
people to give them money, but the Bishops gave, and
did not take. The King robbed their sees terribly at
the Reformation, but still large estates were left to
them, which had never belonged to any one else since
the times when England was a kingdom.

George, — Have they got them now ]

Mr. L, — I was going to explain. Bodies of clergy,
such as the Chapters of Cathedrals, I mean the Dean
and Canons, had likewise large estates. The value of
lands and of money had gone on increasing, and thus
there was much more than was needful, in some hands.
In the meantime, new places had sprung up where
there was scarcely any provision for the clergy, so that
though the whole Church was really fairly endowed,
the amount required to be freshly divided. There was
a great deal of consideration and debate about the
matter, for many thought no one had a right to touch
church property, and when it was remembered that
Henry viii. had meant to endow bishoprics, colleges,
and hospitals out of the abbey lands, and then that he

172 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

kept them, or gave them away to his courtiers, there
were fears that any change might end in the same
way. However, in 1835 an Act was passed, with
consent of the Bishops in the Honse of Lords, by which,
whenever a Bishop should die, the estates of the see
were to be made over to what was called "the Ecclesi-
astical Commission," which was to consist of a body of
Bishops and noblemen and statesmen of high character.
The Cathedrals were not to have as many Canonries as
before, and their estates were likewise made over into
the Commissioners' hands. Out of the property that
thus came in, a fixed income, such as was thought
sufficient, was allotted to each Bishop or Canon, together
with the palace and its grounds belonging to the see,
and the rest is used to help out poor livings, and endow
new churches. This work has now been going on for
forty years, and almost all, if not all, these estates have
been dealt with by the Ecclesiastical Commissioners.
They have done their best, in earnest, and though they
have made some mistakes, the work has been a very
good one for the Church on the whole.

Albert. — ^What kind of mistakes 1

Mr, L. — Perhaps giving hardly enough to the sees.
A Bishop has to keep open house for his clergy, to
receive young men who come to be ordained, to travel
about a great deal, and to be foremost in helping all
good works that are set on foot ; so that he often finds
it very difficult to make his income hold out. But at
any rate, you see, Albert, that we are none of us a
penny the poorer for the whole bench of Bishops.
They have given up the property that had been theirs
for a thousand years, and they live on a small allow-

WE LIVE UNDER. 173

ance taken out of it ; and if that allowance were
divided among us all, do you expect that we should be
much richer?

Albert. — I don't know.

Mr. L. — I'll tell you a story. Baron Nathan
Rothschild, the great Jew banker, was sitting in his
counting-house in Vienna, when in dashed half a dozen
men, telling him that there was a revolution, and every
one was to share equally. " Very well," he quietly
said, " how much money do you think I have 1 "

" Forty million florins," said one, at a guess.

" You overrate my fortune," said the Jew, " but I
will grant that you are right." Nowthere are 40,000,000
people in Germany, so that is a florin apiece for them.
Here is one for each of you. You have had your
share. Good-morning ! "

Albert, — But why must the Bishops be always rich
menl

Mr, L, — They are not, unless they have private
fortunes of their own. What they are paid from the
Commission is barely enough for the expenses of
their position. They often have to leave their families
far from well off, and as to the Colonial and Missionary
Bishops, they are often very poor.

George. — You have had your answer, Albert.

John. — I don't understand all about it now. The
tithes go to the clergy, don't they 1
' Mr. L. — Certainly. You know what tithes are.

John. — The tenth part.

Mr. L. — You know too that the giving tithes to the
priesthood began —

Herbert. — With Abraham.

.174 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr, L, — And it was regulated by the Levitical law.
So that Christians thought the rule a guide for them,
and King Ethelwolf, Alfred's father, is said to have
first made it part of the law that the land should pay-
tithes to the parish priest. Archbishop Theodore
had before this set the example of getting every
diocese divided into parishes. These parishes generally
followed the lines of the different estates, and that is
the reason some are so much larger than others. King
Athelstan, the grandson of Alfred, enacted that a man
might become noble if he had made three voyages, and
built a church with a bell-tower on his estate. By
the time of the Norman Conquest, most parishes had
been marked out all over England, and were set down
in Domesday book. The priests of these parishes had
the tenth part of the land for their own, and received
yearly a tenth of the crops from every one in the place.
I have seen great tithe barns which were built when
the tithes were actually given in kind, every tenth
sheaf out of the field. The parish priest was called the
Parson in very early times, as some people tell us, from
being the principal person in the parish. Others give
it a still higher meaning. Person means one who re-
presents another, and the Parson or Person is Christ's
representative to us.

Edward, — We called our clergyman at home, the
Eector.

George, — And we call Mr. Somers the Vicar.

Mr, L, — I am coming to those titles. A great many
abbeys and monasteries were founded and endowed
with estates which had churches upon them. When
this happened, the monks considered that as they were

WE LIVE UNDER. 175

elergy, they might keep the tithe of corn, the great
tithes as they called them, provided they employed a
priest to reside there, and attend to the parish. He
was called a Vicar, which means one taking the place
of another, serving in his stead. To this day it has the
old meaning in France, where the parish priest is called
the Cur6, and the curate, as we should call him, the
vkaire,

Edward, — ^Did the monks give the Vicar a salary, as
our Rector gives his curate *?

Mr. L, — No, but while they took the great tithes
of the corn, they let him have the smaller tithe of
the profits on cattle, and such like ; and. as before the
Reformation priests might not marry, and were some-
times little more refined than" their flocks, the Vicars
managed to get along. Indeed, where a place was rich,
and the great tithes considerable, they were sometimes
given away to colleges, and other Church foundations,
because they were thought too much for a country
priest. When Henry viii. broke up the abbeys, you
know he often granted their lands and possessions to
his favourites. These were mostly very bad and greedy
men, caring only to enrich themselves, so they kept
any great tithes that had come into their hands with
the other wealth of the monks, and the livings still
continued vicarages, and have done so ever since.

Edward, — You said the great tithes came from the
corn crops, and the small tithes from other crops.

Mr. L. — Yes, and in some places, such as the cider,
perry, and cheese districts, I believe the small tithes
are really larger than the great ones. But on the
other hand, all sorts of manufactures and employments

176 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

that have sprung up in later times have never been
tithed, so that in some of the richest places, the clergy
are very badly oflf, and they would be still worse
provided for but that the Ecclesiastical Commission
has added to the endowments of the churches.

George. — How are Bishops and clergy appointed]
I don't mean ordained.

Mr, L. — Their spiritual power is derived, as you
know, from our blessed Lord, through His apostles.
Their appointment to their several posts has been fixed in
various ways. As to the Bishops, surely some of you re-
member English History enough to recollect St. Anselm
and Henry L, and the question about appointments.

Edward. — I remember ! The Canons of the Cathedral
had the right of choosing the Bishop, only the King
always told them whom to choose.

Mr, L, — That has ever since been the rule. The
Cathedral Chapter is supposed to elect its Bishop, but
it is only as a form; the Sovereign's nomination is
always taken. The Crown also appoints the Deans,
but the Bishops appoint the Canons.

George, — ^Who are they %

Mr, L, — The clergymen belonging to the Cathedral
who were intended to be the Bishops' Council. As to
the parishes, the modes of appointment to them are
most various. Some are old rectories, to which the lord
of the manor has had the presentation from time
immemorial. Some belong to colleges, and are generally
given to members of the college going by seniority.
Some, I imagine those which were on the estates
belonging to the Crown, are still in its gift, and the
Lord Chancellor usually chooses the clergyman who

WE LIVE UNDER. 177

shall be presented to the living. Some, large numbers
of recently formed ones, are in the gift of the Bishop
of the diocese in which they lie.

George, — That is what Albert's paper meant.

Edward, — But the Bishops only choose the Kector or
Vicar who is to have them. They don't gain anything
by the appointment.

Mr, L. — No. The paper only puts in the statement
because ignorant people are likely to misunderstand it.

Albert. — ^But I am sure I have heard of buying and
selling livings.

Mr, L, — ^No doubt you have. It is an inaccurate
way of mentioning what is hardly legal and not right.
You heard that the lords of the manor used to leave
their heir the right of choosing the clergyman of the
parish. This right is called the ad vowson, and the owner
is called the patron. Sometimes, if the estate were sold,
or the family went away, or grew poor, they no longer
cared for the advowson, and were willing to make it
over to some other person who might wish to have it,
for a sum of money. This is one way of doing what is
called selling a living, and an innocent one so far as I
can see. Now, when this advowson belongs to a family,
the living is often given to one of the sons or brothers,
and thus It came to be looked on as a provision for one
of them, a bit of family property, in fact. And here
the world began creeping in, and leading to traffic.
For if there were no kinsman in orders to take the
living on its becoming vacant, the patron, if he were a
man who cared more for his own purse than the good of
the Church, still tried to get some advantage for himself.
Now it is absolutely against the rules of the Church

M

178 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

to give or take anything for committing to another,
or for receiving, the cure of souls. It is called
Simony. EecoUect St. Peter at Samaria, and you will
see why,

Edward, — Is it because of Simon Magus, who
wanted to purchase from the Apostles the power, of
confirming 1

Mr, L. — Yes. Every clergyman, on being inducted
to the living by the Bishop, has to make oath that he
has not been guilty of this offence, which is evidently
in the sight of God, a deadly sin. Also, it is utterly
unlawful to pay or receive any price for the presenta-
tion to a living while it is vacant. The law, however,
does not forbid the purchase of the next presentation,
and this is what is most commonly called selling or
buying a living.

Edward, — Is it right, sir 1

Mr, L, — I think it is sometimes done with excellent
intentions, as when a father purchases the presentation
that he may give it to a son whom he knows to be a
fit pastor for the people. But the power of so selling
a presentation has led to great abuses, such as appoint-
ing a very old infirm man in order to be able to sell
the presentation, which must soon fall in. The Bishops
and all Convocation are considering how to render such
things impossible, and on the whole, it is generally
agreed that the great variety of patronage works well,
by bringing together clergymen of different schools of
thought, so that when they meet, the views of all may
be enlarged, and they may understand one another
better.

George, — ^Is that what they all go to Carchester for,

WE LIVE UNDER. 179

when the street is full of black coats, and they all dine
at the Hall Inn 1

Tom, — The churchwardens go then. Master went
last time.

Mr. L. — That is the Visitation. Every third year
the Bishop comes, the other two, the Archdeacon,
who is a clergyman appointed to attend to various
matters in the diocese, such as seeing whether churches
are repaired, and churchyards in order. Then the clergy
and churchwardens meet, have a service and Celebra-
tion together, and a charge is made to them on their
duties, or the Bishop directs them as to any question
affecting the Church.

Edward, — What have churchwardens to dol

Mr, L, — They are oflBcers chosen, one by the parish
priest, one by the people as their legal representa-
tives in their secular duties to their church. They have
to keep the building in repair, and to see that all
things needful for the service, especially the Holy
Communion, are supplied ; they ought to keep order
in the church, and they collect the alms ; and when
so sad a matter happens as a clergyman failing in his
duties, it is they who have to call on the Archdeacon
or Bishop to interfere. They ought to be in their
degree the wardens or protectors of the church. It
is one of the offices freely undertaken as a duty, and
giving a sort of consideration in the parish.

180 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER XVIIL

THE THREE ESTATES OF THE BEALM.

Herbert, — Well now, I want to know how all these
laws are made.

George, — Why, in Parliament, to be sure.

Herbert, — Of course I have heard of Parliament,

John, — We have got the picture of the Houses of Par-
liament, a great white house with towers like a Church.

Albert, — And the great clock, and Big Ben, in one of
them.

Herbert, — But what do they do there 1 How do
they make the laws 9

Mr, L, — Do you know whom you mean by * they '1

Herbert, — Well — Sir James goes up to Parliament
every year.

Albert, — He is member for the county, and Mr.
Higginson is member for Carchester. My cousin,
Ernest, told me they had such a jolly row at the election !

George, — Election — that is, choosing the members of
Parliament.

Mr, L, — Of the House of Commons, in fact. The
English members of the House of Lords are not elected.

Herbert, — How do they get in, then %

Mr, L, — By birth, or else they are made Peers for
their services to the country.

WE LIVE UNDER. 181

John. — Does Peer mean a Lordi

Mr. J. — Not exactly; peer means an equal, because
all the noblemen in the House of Peers are on equal
tenns there, and the vote of a Duke, or even of the
Prince of Wales, reckons for no more than that of a
Baron. Do you know what the three estates of the
realm are ]

Edward, — King or Queen, Lords, and Commons.

Mr. L. — Not quite right. The Queen is above all.
The three Estates are Clergy, Lords, and Commons.
These are represented by Convocation and the Houses
of Peers and Commons.

Edward. — I don't know anything about Convocation.

George. — I We seen it in the paper, but I thought it
was the parsons' meeting about their sermons.

Albert. — I thought it was about their tithes.

Mr. L. — Much notion you seem to have about it !
Well, we must begin at the beginning — to get things
clear. I don't know if Edward is historian enough to
tell us what the old Saxon Council of State was
called.

Edward. — The Witenagemot.

Albert. — How much ]

Mr. L. — It is only old English, Albert — Witan, the
wise; ge-mot, the meeting. All the little kingdoms
of the old English had their own meeting of wise men
— thanes and eldermen. I have seen one place where
they used to meet.

Edward. — A house standing these thousand years
and more !

Mr. L. — No, not a house. The meetings were out
of doors. There was a great mound built up in the

182 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

middle with a flat place on the top for the speaker,
and there seemed to be ridges of turf banked up
all round the mound to serve for seats, or perhaps for
supports of benches for the audience. I think there
was one place evidently meant for a throne, but I am
not clear, for it is many years since I saw it, and it
had been planted with trees, long ago, by- some one
who did not understand the curiosity of it. All the
old nations of kindred blood had such meetings. There
the trials by ordeal came off, and the prices were fixed
at which deadly feuds could be bought off. There are
very grand remains of such a meeting-place in Iceland.
The northern nations called it * thing ' or * ting,' which
is worth remembering, because our word husting came
from it. It is House-ting, consultation of householders
or house-bonds, husbands.

Ge<yrge, — But why do we have a northern word 1

Edward, — I suppose the Danes brought it.

Mr, L. — True. The Danes named many things in
England.

Herbert, — How came it to turn into a Parliament ?

Mr. L, — Because when the Northmen came and
settled in Normandy they learnt French, and so took
to calling the old house-ting a Parlement — from parler,
to talk. So, when they came to England, the meeting
of the wise men turned into a great Talk.

Edward, — But did they begin to have a Parliament
so soon ?

Mr, L, — There had been a Parliament in Normandy,
but William the Conqueror and the kings just after
him, managed so as to ask no one's leave for what they
did. They could put down the English by means of

WE LIVE UNDER. 183

the Normans, and the Normans by means of the
English, though they had some sort of council for
which William Eufus built Westminster Hall. . I
think, however, that these Parliaments consisted wholly
of nobles and bishops. It was not till the year 1213
that a council was held at Oxford, and the sheriffs of
each shire were summoned by the king to send up
four discreet knights to confer with him on the affairs
of the kingdom. I think it was then that the word
Parliament came into common use for the council.

Edward, — There was the Mad Parliament under
Henry ill.

Mr, L. — Then it was that the barons, led by Simon
de Montfort, came to the perception that the only way
to prevent their being entirely at the mercy of the
king was to let him have no money without the con-
sent of the nation, not only of the nobles but of the
cities. So in 1265, there was a summons to all the
sheriffs, bidding them return two knights for their
counties, and two burgesses for every city and borough
in them, to declare their grievances, and to consent to
raise money for the needs of the king. From that
time, this same great rule of the English constitution
has been observed.

Edward, — That the burgesses and knights of the
shire should grant the money.

Mr, L, — Exactly so, though most likely the barons
only thought of getting aid in keeping the extravagance
of Henry iii. within bounds, and never thought that
they were being guided to make their country the most
truly free and strong in Europe. And as to going up
to Parliament, it was looked on as a great misfortune.

184 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

I have a history of a county election in the days of
Edward I. to show you, from the same book as the
account of the trial by jury, The Merchant and Friar,

John. — ^Is it true, sir ]

Mr, L. — It is not true that Marco Polo and Roger
Bacon travelled together and saw this very election,
but all that is here described was proved to Sir Francis
Palgrave by old books and papers, and he has drawn
us a life-like picture of it. The travellers came to a
mound with an oak-tree on it, and on the merchant
saying that it was like a place of popular assembly he
had seen in Friesland, the friar answered, " This is no
other than Grimbald's oak, beneath whose boughs the
shire court of this county, the earliest and most im-
portant of our national tribunals, is held at the present
day." In the meantime a crowd collected, upwards of
two thousand, and a considerable proportion of the
throng consisted of little knots of husbandmen. " The
churls, four or five of whom were generally standing
together, each company seeming to compose a deputa-
tion, might be easily distinguished by their dress, a
long frock of coarse, yet snow-white linen, hanging
down to the same length before and behind, and orna-
mented round the neck with broidery neatly executed
in blue thread."

" Every one of these groups of peasantry, who it must
be observed were the representatives of their respective
townships, had a species of chieftain, in the person of
an individual who, though it was evident that he be-
longed to the same rank in society, gave directions to
the rest." Besides these, there were well-clad persons
collected into sets of twelve, — representing the hun-

WE LIVE UNDER. 1 85

dreds of the country — and there were a few knights.
By and by appeared the High Sheriff, Sir Giles de
Argentine, he surrounded by his escort of javelin men,
tall yeomen all arrayed in a uniform suit of livery.
With him came a messenger from the Chancellor, called
by the odd name of the Portejoye, or joy-bringer, because
he was the usual messenger from the king to his people.
The writ or message he brought from King Edward
set forth all the evils which the kingdom was likely to
sustain from an invasion of the Scots, and ended with,
"We have determined to hold our Parliament at West-
minster in eight days of St. Hilary."

Parliament ! Every one was seized with alarm, for
it meant nothing to these people but that they would
be forced to pay. A mitred abbot, who had to attend
it in person, tried to ride oflf ; but the SheriflF shouted,
"My Lord Abbot, we want you," an^ the Portejoye
served him with a writ of summons.

He made a great resistance, but the Sheriff went on
to cause his clerk to read the writ commanding him to
cause two knights to be elected for the shire, from
every city two citizens, from every borough two bur-
gesses. Every one fell back, there was a general con-
sternation, and one of the yeomen stepped forward
and declared that " such slender folk " as these poor
country people ought not to be asked to do what be-
longed to earls and barons.

However, the Sheriff accepted no excuses, and a con-
sultation began. A wink passed between the yeoman
and a well-mounted knight, who began backing and
sidling away through the groups of shire-men, and as
soon as he had got clear out of the ring, John Trafford,

186 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

the yeoman, declared that Sir Richard de Fogeys had
been chosen.

The Sheriff instantly ordered his bailiffs to secure
the body of the member, who was to be kept in custody
unless he gave good bail to appear in Parliament. But
this was sooner said than done: Sir Richard was
galloping away across the fields 1 The bailiffs gave
chase, so did the whole assembly, but the member
made his escape, and was out of reach, after giving
one of the bailiffs a black eye I Another knight was
named, who seems to have been willing to serve for
four shillings and eight-pence a day, to be paid by the
county during the sitting.

I have only told you the outline, boys — the whole is
too long to read you.

Edward. — Why did these knights so much dislike
going 1

Mr, L. — I think they were sure to be reproved by
the king for whatever they did not grant, while the
shire-men would be furious at whatever they did grant.
Nothing but money was wanted from them, and the
session was very soon over. In the time of Edward ill.
I believe there first began the separation between the
elected members and the barons, while the clergy had
a separate assembly ; and under Edward iv. the rule
was established that a measure must have the consent
of both Lords and Commons, and then go up to the
Sovereign, who gives consent *in these old French words,
" Lt Boy le veult,** or the king wishes it. Or as it is at
the present time, " La Reyne le veuU" If the Sovereign
refused to allow a bill to pass, the mode of rejection
was " Le Boy s'aviseraf^ the king will consider.

WE LIVE UNDER. 187

George, — ^Why don't they answer in English]

Mr. L. — It is a continuation of the old forms that
began when French was the court-language.

Edward. — Has Queen Victoria ever said " La Reyne
s^avisera ?

Mr. L. — ^Never. I believe the last time the king
stood in opposition to the Parliament was when George
III. refused to consent to Eoman Catholic Emanci-
pation.

George. — Then what makes an Act of Parliament 1

Mr. L. — It is proposed in either the House of
Commons or the House of Lords by some member,
and is then called a bill. It is read three times
in each House, debated over, and sometimes much
altered from the original draft. There is a division
at each reading, the ayes and noes are counted, and
if the majority in each House have agreed to it,
it is passed and sent up to be consented to by the
Sovereign.

Edward. —But you said, sir, the clergy in Convoca-
tion were the other Estate of the realm.

Mr. L. — So they are. They were at first summoned,
that they might grant aids to the king, as they were
not taxed like other people. When Henry. viii. broke
from the power of the Pope, he made Convocation con-
sent, as a body, to whatever he chose to do to the
Church of England. It seems strange that so large
a number of men should have consented to so much
despoiling of the Church ; but as a fact, those who met
in Convocation agreed to all that either he or his son
and daughters did. From that time. Convocation was
consulted about Church matters. Indeed the clergy

188 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

there taxed themselves till the year 1685, when the
right was given up. In the early years of George i..
Dr. Hoadly, who had lately been appointed Bishop of
Winchester, published a book with such false doctrine
in it, that Convocation was about to condemn it, when
the king and his ministers directed the Archbishop to
prorogue, that is, to defer, the meeting till another time.
From that year, 1717, though the writs were sent out
to summon Convocation whenever Parliament met, it
was always prorogued directly till 1861, when the
great earnestness and skill of Bishop Wilberforce pre-
vailed, and he obtained permission for Convocation to
sit and deliberate.

George, — And what do they do 1

Mr, L, — One outcome of their meetings is the new
Lectionary, by which the whole table of Lessons has
been revised and altered. They have also sanctioned
harvest thanksgivings, and they are always ready to
hold council on all that affects the Church.

Edward, — And who go to Convocation 1

Mr. L, — There is an Upper and a Lower House.
The Upper House consists of the Bishops, the Lower
of Archdeacons and Deans, and of members called
proctors, who are elected by the beneficed clergy of
each diocese.

George, — Who are the beneficed clergy ]

Mr, L, — ^Those who hold livings and are not merely
curates.

Edward, — I thought Bishops were in the House of
Lords.

Mr. L, — So they are, for they are Peers of the realm,
and so have a right to share in the government of the

WE LIVE tJNDER. l89

state. They are called Spiritual Peers, and the other
Lords Temporal Peers.

George. — I don't understand now. I thought you
said Lords were not chosen but born to it ] Now I am
sure there was a young Lord standing for Carchester.

Mr, L, — Lord Harfield. yes, but he is not a Peer.
He is only Lord Carchester's eldest son, and as long
as his father lives, is really as much a commoner as
you or I; but he bears what is called the title by
courtesy, one of his father's titles which he is allowed
to use, though he has no right to it. He would be
described in any legal paper as Edward Harfield,
commonly called Baron Harfield.

Edward. — And the other sons 1

Mr. L. — They have Honourable put before their
names, and the younger sons of Dukes and Marquesses
put Lord before their Christian name, but that is
all. In the eye of the law there is no difference
between them and a ploughboy, and the small dis-
tinction does not descend to their sons. It is one of
the points in which England has customs of its own.
In Germany, all a Baron's sons are Barons, and their
sons after them, for ever. And in France, before the
Eevolution, all the sons and descendants of a nobleman
were for all generations free from all taxes, and as the
clergy paid none either, the rest of the nation did
indeed bear a terrible weight. But it has never been
so in England. Only the holder of the peerage himself
has a seat in the House of Lords, or any privilege
above other people.

Albert. — And what makes people Peers ?

Mr. L. — The Sovereign makes them Peers by send-

190 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

ing them a parchment called a patent of nobility. It
is generally given for some great service to the country^
either as soldier, or sailor, law-officer, or statesman. I
should think you could give some instances your-
selves.

Herbert — Lord Nelson and the Duke of Wellington.

Mr, L. — ^True ; and you may see in them how these
promotions are won by merit, for Nelson was the son
of a country gentleman of small means, though Well-
ington was the younger son of an Irish nobleman.
But you might come to our own times.

Edward, — There is Lord Napier of Magdala —

Mr, L, — Whose title shows that he won it in Abys-
sinia. And Lord Clyde, who, as Sir Colin Campbell,
put down the Indian Mutiny. Then all Lord Chan-
cellors are m^de Peers, as it is necessary to have some
trained lawyers to assist in the business of the House.
Thus we now have Lord Selborne, a clergyman's son,
and we have had Lord Hatherley, whose father was an
alderman.

Edward, — Lord Beaconsfield used to be Mr. Disraeli.

Mr, L, — Ministers of state often, as he did, accept
a peerage when they begin to grow old, and feel the
work of leading the House of Commons too hard for
them, as the numbers of the Peers are smaller, the
business before them not so heavy, and the debates
less exciting.

George, — And the peerage passes on to their sons?

Mr, L, — If they have any sons, it goes on their
death to the eldest ; but he has first to take his seat,
and take the oaths, being introduced by some other
Peer, and indeed every time there is a dissolution of

WE LIVE UNDER. 191

-the House of Commons the Lords have all to take
their seats over again, and renew their oaths to the
Queen and country.

George. — Have the families all begun by doing some-
thing for the country ]

Mr, L. — ^A great many have. For instance, you all
remember Queen Anne's great general 1

Herbert. — The Duke of Marlborough.

Mr. L. — He began life as John Churchill, and his
descendant sits in the House of Lords now, and
was lately Viceroy of Ireland. Again, the Mar-
quesses of Exeter and Salisbury are both descended
from Queen Elizabeth's great Lord Burghley. The
Earl of Shrewsbury's forefatiier was the grand old
Lord Talbot of the days of Henry vi. If we had
time, I would read you the scene in Shakespeare
where he and his son die together at the Bridge of
Castillon.

Edward. — Surely some of those old people were born
noble, and did not win their rank.

Mr, L, — True, Edward. There have been noble
families before the times of history, standing out
among the others just as chiefs do among savage
tribes, by being really finer and abler men. The
forefathers of the Barons who struggled for Magna
Charta were noble in this manner.

Edward. — Can you tell us of any of them, sir 1

Mr. L. — These old families have not always titles
and peerages among them, and the titles are often
much less old than the families. At this moment,
the first I can remember are the Stanleys. They are
said to descend from Nestingum, a little child whom

i92 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

King Alfred rescued from an eagle's nest. Their crest
is the eagle and child, or the bird and bantling, as
Cheshire people call it. But they did not rise to
distinction till after one of them married the mother
of Henry vii., though since that as Earls of ])erby they
have done good service. And here is another instance
for you. The Seymour family bears a pair of wings in
honour of the flight of their ancestor, Osmond de
Centeville, when he carried off the little Duke Rich-
ard of Normandy in a bundle of hay; but they did
not come into notice till Henry viii. married Jane
Seymour, and her brother caused Edward VI. to create
him Duke of Somerset.

Albert. — And what is the use of haying these Lords %
Mr. L, — That no measure may be decided on with-
out its being thoroughly sifted, and looked at in all
points of view.

Albert. — But don't the Commons do that ]
Mr. L. — ^They previously being chosen never more
than six years back, are much more subject to be
swayed by passing fits of feeling, and might do many
things they would afterwards repent of, without the
Lords to act as a check. An Upper House has always
been found necessary as a sort of balance. The
Americans, having no nobles, form one by electing a
set of senators, chosen not by all the people, but th^
government of each state. The French have tried
different ways of forming an Upper House, but have
kept to none of them long.

Edward. — I see how it is. The members of the
House of Commons are likely to think how to please
their constituents.

WE LIVE UNDER. 193

Mr, L, — Indeed they have often pledged themselves
to do so.

Edward, — ^But the Lords, who do not depend on
anybody, are free to consider what is best for the
country.

Albert. — Or themselves.

Mr, L, — So their enemies say in the papers we were
talking of. But though there are here and there ex-
ceptions, and noblemen have been known to make a bad
use of their rank, yet as a general rule, our British
nobility grow up feeling that they have a great trust in
their hands, and do really try to use it for the good of
the whole nation. Every one agrees that they are quite
the most conscientious, brave, and truly superior
nobility in the world, and the flower of the nation ; and
it is certain that without the stimulus they give to all
works for the public good, nothing would go on half
so well. I should have told you, by-the-by, that all
Scottish and Irish Peers have not seats in the House
of Lords. They choose a certain number to represent
them; besides which an Irish Peer, though not a
Scottish one, can be elected by an English constituency
as a member of the House of Commons.

N

194 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER XIX.

THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.

George, — In that book you read us last time, sir, the
knights ran away to keep from being sent up to Parlia-
ment. I thought a gentleman would give anything to
go in these days.

Mr, L, — There is the change that has come in these
six hundred years. Then the Commons could do
nothing but grant money to the king, which they
naturally disliked, not knowing that it was the small
and of the wedge, and that they woUld come to be the
chief power in the kingdom.

George, — How did their power come to them 1

Mr, L. — We should have to go through the whole
history of England to see that, but Edward can help us
to some of the steps. The Barons were, as»you know,
the great power in England from the time when Magna
Charta was signed, and when a Parliament was called,
they generally swayed it till, in 1308, it was established
that the consent of the burgesses and knights of the
shire, as the town and county members were called, was
needed to pass any law, for as the power of taxing
themselves was in their hands, they could obtain terms
by withholding the supplies, and they used to present

WE LIVE UNDER. 195

petitions for the redress of grievances. The Plantagenet
kings were in fact afraid of their barons, and encour-
aged the knights and burgesses. Under Edward iii.
the two chambers were separated. Then during the
Hundred years' War — you know what that was 1

Edward, — The war with France.

Mr, L, — ^During that war, when the kings wanted
money, they conceded what the Commons asked. And
the wars of the Eoses, as you all know, destroyed the
great strength of the barons, while there was little
damage done to the city of London or indeed to any
town. So the merchants and squires were constantly
advancing, and all the more because the Tudor kings
made it their business to crush any noble who seemed
to be growing powerful. You can remember an
example or two, Edward.

Edward, — When Henry viii. cut off the Duke of
Buckingham's head, and sent the Duke of Norfolk to
prison.

Mr, L, — ^In one way or another, by their own fault
or their misfortune, by the time Elizabeth's reign was
over, no noble remained able to rule at home like a
little king, or to lord it over the Sovereign like the
Earl of Lancaster or Earl Warwick, the king-maker.
On the other hand, the Commons had grown into a
set of strong, resolute, and often well-educated men.
Queen Elizabeth saw it plainly. She knew how to
manage them ; they really loved her and followed her
leading, or if they showed signs of not doing so, she
could quell them by a thorough scolding, and she
saved, and pinched her army and navy and everything
else, to avoid pressing them for money. But when the

196 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Stuarts came in, they did not understand this manage-
ment, and then resistance began.

Edward. — Then Charles I. tried to raise money in
other ways.

Mr. L, — And by those he made shipwreck, but we
cannot go into that history now. The Long Parliament,
as you know, he summoned when he was compelled,
and it declared itself incapable of being dissolved.

George. — How long did it last 1

Herbert. — Till Oliver Cromwell sent Colonel Pryde
to turn it out.

Edward.— It lasted from 1640 to 1649.

Mr. L. — But as I said before its acts were invalid,
after they ceased to pass through the Lords and to be
confirmed by the King. Indeed it was not dissolved
then ; for after eleven years, the remains of it came
together to invite Charles IL to return. In 1694
an Act was passed that a fresh Parliament should be
elected every three years, but the expense and disturb-
ance of elections are so undesirable that in 1715 the
period was made seven years.

Edward, — I thought Parliament was dissolved when
the Sovereign chooses.

Mr, L. — So it may be, but it miist be'dissolved every
seven years.

Herbert. — ^For fear it should get wicked like the
Long Parliament 1

Mr. L. — Not exactly, Herbert, but because it is
thought fit that the nation should have an opportunity
of showing their opinions at such intervals.

Herbert, — How do they do so 1

Mr, L, — "By the members whom they choose.

WE LIVE UNDER. 197

Besides, Parliament is always broken up by the death
of the Sovereign. Everything has to be begun afresh
with a new reign.

George* — You talked of its being prorogued last
night. Is that the same as being dissolved 1

Mr. L. — By no means. Parliament is prorogued
when it ceases to sit for a time, usually from August to
Februaiy, but the members all retain their seats. It
is dissolved when they are dismissed, and writs are
sent out to the Sheriffs to hold fresh elections.

Edward. — And that is not much like the one you
read about.

Mr, L. — Yet the great outlines are followed. Till
quite recently the Sheriff used to assemble the electors
(as many as choose to come) at the hustings (the house-
ting, you see). This was generally a platform set up in
front of the county or town hall. He read the writ
desiring the electors to choose either one or two per-
sons, as the case might be. Then some principal person
of the place stood forth and proposed the candidate, and
another seconded him. The candidate made a speech
telling what his views were. If there were only one can-
didate for a place that had a single member, or two for a
place with two, the nomination was made without opposi-
tion, and the member was declared to be duly elected.

Edward. — But surely, sir, that was not all.

Mr, L. — No, for generally there would be another
candidate of different politics, brought forward by the
opposite party. He would be proposed and seconded,
and make his speech.

Albert. — And wasn't there a great row 1 And didn't
the people halloo and throw rotten eggs and dead cats 1

198 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr, L. — If they were low blackguardly fellows, who
chose to disgrace themselves, their native place, and
their country by doing what made no difference to the
result of the election.

John. — What happened then 1

Mr, L. — The Sheriff called for a show of hands, first
for one and then for the other. He counted the hands
held up as well as he could, and declared which had
the most. Of course this could be no real guide, since a
great many electors were not present, and in the crowd
there might be many people without a vote ; I daresay
Albert would not have scrupled to hold up his hand.

Albert.— Why shouldn't I ?

Mr. L. — Because you can have no vote till you are
twenty-one and are a householder possessed of a certain
amount of property. Well, the candidate who had the
fewest hands shown in his favour demanded a poll, that
is, that the heads of the electors should be counted, and
so the election began.

Herbert. — What makes an elector 1

Edward. — ^Why, having a vote.

Herbert. — And what gives a vote ^

Mr. L. — ^A certain amount of property— how much
has been the matter in question ever since the great
strength of the House of Commons was felt, and a
seat there had become the way to honour and influence.
There were in the old times different qualifications in
different places. In the counties only freeholders had
votes — I mean people with land of their own, and in the
boroughs, only the freemen of the place ; and there were
different rules in various places to make persons such,
the having served an apprenticeship, or the family

WE LIVE UNDER. 199

having lived there for some generations. Moreover,
the old customs had gone on of returning representa-
tives for horoughs which had dwindled away, or been
deserted, like Old Sarum, which is a mere green mound,
while new places that had sprung up and grown
populous still only shared in the county election.

Edward, — That was the cause of the Eeform Bill of
1832 under William IV., was it not?

Mr. L. — ^Yes, the whole arrangement of counties and
boroughs was revised, and the franchise, that is, the
right of voting, made the same everywhere — keeping
the old rule of forty-shilling freeholders in the counties,
but adding to them tenants rated at above £50 a year.
In boroughs the qualification was £10, and in 1867 a
vote was given to every householder in a borough, and
in counties to tenants rated at £12 a year.

Tom. — Why are there not .the same rule for both 1

Mr. L. — You remember that rents are higher in
towns, and that to have a house there implies being
of more substance and intelligence than to rent a
cottage in a village.

George. — Why does that make a difference ^

Mr. L. — ^Because the great point is to have electors
who can understand what they are about, and give their
votes as having a conscience about them. I think you
can see, lads, that it is a grave thing to have a share
in the choice of the men who make our laws, and who
decide whether we have peace or war.

George. — I should think so.

Mr. L. — ^But I am afraid there always have been a
great many persons everywhere too ignorant, thought-
less, or unscrupulous to see it in that light.

200 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

John, — What, in the old times, when there were so
few electors 1

Mr. L, — Oh yes. In fact most of the bad customs
have come down from old times. The ignorance was
great then. Many of the forty shilling freeholders were
quite rough labouring men ; some of the old freemen of
the towns were quite untaught. There was so little
chance of their giving a vote with any real under-
standing that the candidates had no notion but of
securing it in any way possible. An election was just
a fight between two rivals, who thought everything
fair. The canvass, that is, the asking for votes, was
begun long beforehand, by the candidate and his friends
calling on e^ery voter, paying the most outrageous
compliments, and offering all sorts of services. I
remember my mother used to tell a story of a rather
silly lady who was trying to canvass for her husband,
and coming into a very plain room where she could
find nothing to admire, burst out with, " Oh what a
pretty poker ! " Every child in the family was to be
kissed, admired, and petted.

Edward, — Did people like it when they knew it was
not true 1

Mr. L. — Well, I fancy they laughed at it, but they
had come to think it their due, and would have felt
neglected if the candidates had not paid them the
compliment, so it was not safe to leave them unvisited,
lest they should take offence. These were the people
who were above being bribed. There were others who
would be secured by a bribe under some little disguise,
such as the candidate pretending to take a great fancy
to some trifle and paying a huge price for it, or hiring

WE LIVE UNDER. 201

a messenger for a ridiculously large sum, while there
were others who had no shame at all, and would
absolutely sell their vote, sometimes to both sides.

George. — Was it allowed 1

Mr, L, — Not at all. An election could be set aside
if bribery was proved ; but people had come to think
it a sort of necessary matter, and when it was done on
each side, neither durst bring an accusation against the
other. Besides, honourable mjen, who hated bribery
too much to soil their fingers with it, could, before 1832,
almost always get a seat in Parliament for one of the
very small boroughs, which did just what they were
bidden by the most influential gentleman at hand.

Edward. — I am glad every one did not bribe.

Mr. L. — Rival families, and above all rival parties,
looked on elections as trials of strength, and forgot to
think of means in their vehemence. As the time drew
nearer the struggle grew hotter. At county elections
the votes were only taken at the chief town, and it
went on for more than a week. I once heard described
by a very old gentleman his journey to the first election
at which he had a vote; he lived in a remote part
of the county, and the gentlemen of the same party
collected together with the farmers and other voters,
all on horseback with the colours of their candidate,
bright bunches of ribbons in their hats, and from all
the lanes and roads more of the party came riding in,
and greeting them. This was all well. The leader of
these riders was the same clergyman-magistrate who
wrote the book of prayers for prisoners I told you of,
and he was sure to keep them together, and as much
as possible out of harm's way. But the regular thing was

202 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

that each party engaged as many inns and public-houses
as possible. These streamed with their colours, and
there was unlimited eating and drinking at the expense
of the candidate. You may suppose what horrible riot-
ing and licence there was when there were no police-
men, and the military could not interfere. Indeed the
soldiers are still shut up in barracks during an election.

George. — I should think they would only make the
row worse.

Mr, L, — That is not the reason ; it ifi in order that
there may be no interference with the freedom of the
election.

John. — They would not meddle with it.

Mr. L. — Not now, but in excited times, like those of
James IL, the army, if it were the king's obedient
servant, might be used to alarm the people into voting
for the party preferred by the Court. That is the
reason of the rule. All sorts of tricks were played by
the supporters of the rival candidates to prevent those
against them from coming to the poll. I have heard
of a gentleman halting at an inn for the night, and
there some of the other side drugged his wine, then,
when he went to bed, darkened his windows outside,
and when he woke, late in the morning, he was answered
as if he were making a noise in the night, and so he
went to bed again, and lost the day ! Or men were
entrapped into the public-houses on the other side,
made drunk and shut up till too late to vote. Or
false messages were brought calling the elector to a
distant place on urgent business. Then no one can
guess what the mobs were, abusing, threatening,
pelting, beating, misusing every one who voted for the

WE LIVE UNDER. 203

man who was not the favourite of the moment. There
were polling booths set up at the public place. The
men, as they came up, were asked for whom they voted,
and they had to answer clearly and at once before all.
Then, at the close of the poll, the numbers were counted,
and the Sheriff declared which was the successful
candidate, and afterwards his supporters thought it
needful to their triumph to carry him round the town
in a chair decked with ribbons.

Albert, — There must have been plenty of fun.

Herbert — Yes, the boys must have had a good time !

Mr, L. — I have no doubt the boys enjoyed it much
more than the schoolmasters or than any one else who
really thought about the matter seriously. Well, after
the Beform Bill, it was all the more needful to do some-
thing to restrain all this licence at elections. So if,
after the return of a member, his rival petitions that
the election has been gained by bribery or intimida-
tion, each vote that is specified as unfairly given is
examined into by a Parliamentary Committee, and if
it turns out that the voter has been either bribed or
frightened, it is struck off. Moreover, a place that
is shown to have been flagrantly accessible to bribery is
disfranchised, and prevented from returning a member.

Edward, — What a disgrace !

Mr. L. — I wish every Englishman could be made
to feel the shame and disgrace of selling his vote in
any way, but I am afraid that there are still many
who think the vote only useful as a way of getting
money or gain of some kind for themselves! Much has
been done to make elections less riotous. There is
now no public nomination, but two ratepayers present

204 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

the name of their candidate in writing, signed by at least
four more, to the Sheriff, and there is no show of hands.
The polling places are now at all the county towns, the
vote is given secretly, the election only lasts one day,
and the result is made known at no fixed time, but as
soon as the votes have been counted, so as to avoid if
possible the gathering of a crowd. No treating is
allowed, no colours may be worn, every rule that can
prevent violence has been made ; but unfortunately the
roughs are so much in the habit of thinking an election
a time of licence that it has never yet been possible to
prevent a great deal of blackguardism. And, boys, I
trust you will never add to this terrible evil.

George, — How could we 1

Mr. X. — If excitement and the desire of joining in
what was going on should lead you to add your voices
to the yells and hootings with which the mob delights
to torment the people they dislike. It is a cruel and
savage thing for a multitude to bait men who are only
doing what they think their duty.

George. — With the rotten eggs Albert talks of.

Albert. — But if they are on the wrong side %

Mr. L. — Does that make it right to pelt and abuse
them % Besides, half these mobs are made up of foolish
boys like you, who only come out of curiosity. They
shout and yell for the pleasure of abusing somebody,
though they really know nothing about the matter.
Do you know, I once saw some men tried for man-
slaughter, after a contested election. They had formed
part of a crowd which had hunted a solicitor, the agent
for the unpopular candidate, all the way along the street.
He just reached his own door, fell down, and died !

WE LIVE UNDER. 205

John, — Were they found guilty, sir 1

Mr, L, — No, for the poor man had heart complaint,
but there could be no doubt that his death was really
caused by his breathless run from these men in their
frenzy to drive away the opposite party.

Edward, — Has nothing been done to mend such
things 1

Mr. L, — The last great change that was made was
this : Formerly every man's vote was openly made and
recorded, and it was thought that this made some of
the poorer electors vote merely as they thought would
best please their employers. So now there is a ballot.
Only the numbers, not the names of the voters, on either
side are known, unless they choose to tell what they
have done.

Edward, — ^Did that do any good 1

Mr, L, — I fear it has not made much difference as
yet.

George. — I wonder gentlemen choose to offer bribes,

Mr, L, — Many do not. Others choose to know
nothing about it, and their agents set it down as
" election expenses." But remember, it is to people
who have no self-respect that bribes in any shape are
offered, " to blind their eyes withal." I speak seriously
of this to you, boys, because if you turn out the steady
prosperous men I hope to see you, you are almost
certain to have votes.

George, — You don't think we would be bribed.

Mr. L, — No one knows how the temptation comes.
If you do not look on the right use of your vote as a
matter of principle, you will come to look on it only as
a means of getting something for yourself. If you let

206 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

yourself be secretly overpaid on the understanding that
you poll for the giver, that is a gross form of cheating
the law, and doing a dishonourable thing.

Tom, — Of course it is.

Mr, L, — Yet you may find many who would think
you foolish for not profiting by the chance. Again, I
have known others who only think whether they shall
gain or lose favour or custom by the way they give
their votes. Or some just let themselves be swayed
by the keepers of the public-houses they frequent, and
whom they will not offend, because they like a
comfortable seat by the fire.

Frank, — That is worst of all.

Ge(yrge, — Very low, and yet not so bad as being
bribed in an underhand way.

Mr, L, — I have also heard many, who should have
known better, own that all they thought of was whether
a member would spend much money on the town, and
do much for it, as they say. Nothing will do but the
principle.

John, — And what is the principle, sir 1

Mr, L, — See if any of you can tell me.

George, — Is it to choose the best man 1

Edward, — Or the man whose politics seem best for
the country?

John, — Might one go by what the Prayer says,
" For the advancement of Thy glory, for the good of
Thy Church, for the safety, honour, and welfare of our
Sovereign and her dominions " ?

Mr, L, — That 's the soundest rule, John. If you keep
that in mind, it is a safe guide to keep you upright.

George. — But how are we to know ?

WE LIVE UNDER. 207

Albert. — Oh, you know there are —

Mr, L. — Stay, Albert, I am not going to meddle
with parties, one way or the other. But there are
ways of finding out how to give your vote as honest
faithful Englishmen — either from reading history and
keeping up with superior newspapers. You may have
a real political opinion of your own.

Albert — Of course I have.

Mr, L, — Indeed, Mr. Albert Cray, I am happy to
hear it. But I was going to say that for those who
have not the time or brains for sucb a study, there is
generally some guidance in the personal character of
the candidate. If he be a gentleman of the neighbour-
hood, there are means of knowing whether he is likely
to be a wise and conscientious person, whom you can
trust as your representative. Or again, you can ask the
advice, or follow the example of some good and wise
man whose judgment you trust. Or you may make
up your mind which side you think is the right one to
support, and give your weight to that, and John has
told us the best principle to help our decision. All
these ways of deciding are lawful and right. The one
great thing is, never to let hope of gain or fear of loss
make any difference to you in fulfilling the trust that
has been committed to you. And again, keep steadily
to your principle, thought out quietly with prayer for a
right judgment in all things, and don't be swayed by
fine flourishing speeches that move men at the moment ;
but weigh them well over. Always think highly and
gravely of the duty, for it is upon these votes that the
choice depends of the men who can either save or ruin
their country.

208 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

CHAPTER XX.

GOVERNMENT.

John. — Please, sir, what did you mean when you said
so much depended on our votes )

Tom, — When we have them.

Mr. L. — It is because the choice of the Cabinet
Ministers depends on the majority in the House of
Commons.

Herbert. — Cabinet! That's a black cupboard on
legs, all over gold storks and Chinamen — ^where Miss
Manners keeps her pretty things.

Mr. L. — Cabinet was once a French word for a little
cabin, or closet. Thus, on the one side it came to
mean a small cupboard, on the other, an inner room,
a study or council room. I rather think the King's
council or ministry came to be called his Cabinet when
Charles ii. came back from France.

Edward. — ^Ministry is used in the sense of being
servants.

George. — Who are they 1

Mr. Zf.— You may see the list in this almanac.

Edward. — And they govern the country 1

Herbert. — The Queen does that.

Mr. L. — Everything is done in her name, and she

WE LIVE UNDER. 209

consents to what is done, and signs the orders, but no
one person could possibly attend to all that has to be
carried on.

Edward, — Our kings used to do so, did they not 1

Mr, L, — Such a king as Edward i. or Henry v.
could do so, but the kingdom was a great deal smaller
then, and the business much less severe. If a feeble
king like Edward ii. tried to lean upon a helper, there
was sure to be a jealous outcry about favourites.

Edward, — Queen Elizabeth had Lord Burleigh.

Mr. L. — By her time, the need of councillors was
felt and acknowledged, but there was one great differ-
ence then, and for long after. The sovereign really
chose the ministers then, but only seems to do so now.

Herbert, — Does Parliament choose them 1

Mr, L. — No, but if the majority in the House of
Commons vote against their measures, or declare a
want of confidence in the ministry, it is an understood
thing that all resign their oflfices. Then the Queen
sends for the leader of the opposite party, and desires
him to form a fresh ministry. He sends in a set of
names, she approves, and if any of the new ministry
are in the House of Commons their seats are vacated,
and they have to be elected again. This is to make it
clear that the office is not given to influence the holder's
line of policy. Those who re-elect him do so knowing
that he is to be a minister of state.

Edward, — I remember when old Mr. Harding was ill,
and went out of Parliament, the newspaper said he had
accepted the Chiltem Hundreds. What did that mean]

Mr. L, — Do you know where the Chiltem Hundreds
arel

210 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Edward, — Hills between Buckinghamshire and Ox-
fordshire, are they not 1

Mr. L, — And as they used to belong to neither
county, no Sheriff had power in them. So runaway
knights of the shire, who would not be sent up to
Parliament, used to take refuge there, and hide till the
short session was over. Afterwards a Steward of the
Chiltern Hundreds was appointed, and though the
place itself now is dealt with as a part of one of the
counties, the title of the oflSce still continues, and a
member who wishes to resign his seat before the
dissolution always does so by professing to become
this . Steward, who being an officer of state, leaves his
seat vacant.

Tom, — Why do they keep such odd old ways of
speaking 1

Mr, L. — Because it is one great blessing of England
that there has been no great break in her constitution.
Habits have been altered gradually as need has come,
but never unnecessarily, and there has been no utter
overthrow and setting up all afresh, as there was in
France. Everything here has roots going down deep
into time, and such words and customs are the signs of
their having gone on from our forefathers long ages
ago, and tell curious stories. For instance, before the
opening of Parliament each year, some of the members
have to go and examine the vaults under the Houses.
You can all tell why 1

Herbert, — In case of another Guy Fawkes, and
Gunpowder Plot 1

Mr. L, — ^For two hundred years it seemed to be
a precaution to smile at, but in these days of wicked

WE LIVE UNDER. 211

attempts with dynamite^ it seems to have become no
vain custom.

Tom. — Have you ever seen the inside of the Houses
of Parliament, sir %

Mr, L. — Yes, once or twice ; but I don't think I could
make you understand the arrangement of them except
that the two Houses, as they are called, of Lords and
Commons, are really two very large halls, with a space
between, but each with great doors, so that they can
be thrown into one on occasion. I wish you could see
the grand paintings upon all the walls of the passages
and rooms outside, mostly of the most noted events in
history ; but what do you think is the first and grandest
of them all ?

Herbert, — The signing of Magna Charta ]

Mr, L. — Oh no ! Magna Charta has its place, but
this is a far greater thing. It is Moses coming down
from the Mount with the two Tables of the Law in his
hands.

Edward. — The foundation of Law !

Mr, L, — There is Moses with his shining face veiled,
Aaron advancing to receive the Tables, looking humbled
and full of a sense of his own unworthiness ; Nadab
and Abihu pressing forward eagerly and irreverently ;
Eleazar and Phinehas grave and awe-struck ; Miriam
very old now, looking up with calm ecstasy at the
glorified form of him whom she once watched in his
bulrush cradle. Every face, of elders, women, or
Israelites, nay, every bit of their dress, is a careful
study, and far in the distance is shown the canopy
beneath which the embalmed body of Joseph is being
carried to rest at Shechem. It was a noble thought.

212 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

thus to set before our lawmakers and governors, by
what Eternal Law we are all to be guided.

George, — Please tell us about the opening of Parlia-
ment.

Tom, — Does not the Queen do it %

Herbert. — Don't you know the funny old picture of
the Queen — no, I believe it was the King — agoing to
open Parliament, in a coach, with six cream-coloured
horses with long tails 1

Mr, L, — I believe such horses were brought first by
George i. They are a German kind, and the stud of
them is — or was, a few years ago — kept up in Hanover,
where they are trained to paw, and step high — how,
do you think] By taking them out to exercise in
spectacles, so that they see each stone so magnified
that they tread high to avoid it.

George, — The Queen does not always go.

Mr, L, — No, she often sends a commission to open
Parliament, which can sit only by her authority.
There is a throne for her at the upper end of the House
of Lords, and a seat for the Prince of Wales near.
There she is placed, with the Peers and Bishops robed,
and before her the Lord Chancellor standing by his
seat, the wool-sack.

John, — A wool- sack !

Mr, L, — Not such as Mr. Drew would fill after a
shearing. It looks more like a great red ottoman, but
it is really stuffed with wool, and I have always been
told that it is because wool was the great growth and
manufacture of England that the Lord Chancellor sits
on a wool-sack in the House of Lords. Well, all the
doors are thrown open, between the two Houses, and

WE LIVE UNDER. 213

the Commons come up in procession, headed by the
Speaker, in his gold- embroidered gown and his wig,
with the mace borne before him.

Edward, — The mace that Oliver Cromwell called a
bauble 1

Mr. L. — Exactly so. It is the sign of authority.

T&m, — Who is the Speaker ?

Mr. L, — I will tell you when we have finished the
opening. After all have bowed, the Queen's Speech is
read. She used to read it herself, and it is said that
no one could forget the clear sweet beauty of her tones,
but now, even when she is present, it is generally read
for her. And after all, the words, though spoken as if
by her, are composed by the ministry, telling the two
Houses what measures they wish to have put forward.
Then the ceremony is over, and the Commons retire,
the Speaker walking backwards as long as he is in the
royal presence. Then the work begins with a debate
on the reply to the Queen's speech. The Speaker is
one of the members who is chosen to be a chairman to
conduct the business in general, and to be the person
who holds communication with the Queen. That is
the reason he is called the Speaker, for he never makes
a speech in the House, though there cannot be a sitting
without him in his chair, with the mace before him.
All the speeches are addressed to him and he makes a
sign which member may speak, when several are wishing
to do so. When the mace is taken up, and he goes
away, the House goes into committee, to discuss any
subject before it, but there can be no division — no
voting — without him to manage it.

Herbert — How does he manage it?

214 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Mr. L, — He puts the question. Some cry out " ay "
— some "no" — but as among 658, it is impossible thus
to count, the members walk out at two different doors,
each side having appointed a teller, who counts them
and sets down their names.

Herbert — And the most are the majority.

George, — And when the ministers do not get the
majority, they go out 1

Mr. L. — If it be a real ministerial question connected
with their plans of government.

George. — But what do the ministers do ?

Mr. L. — They decide and manage matters practically.
The Home Secretary is the person to whom all questions
about the pardon or punishment of criminals are
referred. He acts as the medium of carrying on all
the government of England itself. The Colonial
Secretary is in like manner referred to for all matters
regarding the colonies. There is another Secretary
to deal with foreign affairs, another for war, who
communicates with the Commander-in-chief, another
for India, another for Ireland, and lately one for the
Board of Education. It is from him that come all
the codes about what my scholars shall do in each
Standard.

Herbert. — Do these great people really do that 1 -

Mr. L. — Not for this school in particular, but the
rules are laid down for all schools that get a Govern-
ment grant. Secretaries of State used to be only a sort
of clerks to the sovereign. Queen Elizabeth's were no
more, but as business multiplied, and the power of the
Crown was lessened, the Secretaries became really the
actual hands to do whatever has to be done, though they

WE LIVE UNDER. 215

may be, and are, continually called to account for what
they do.

Frank. — Who looks after the shipping ?

Mr, L. — There used to be a Lord High Admiral, but
now his work is done by a commission called the Lords
of the Admiralty.

George, — And are there not two Chancellors 1

Mr, L. — The Chancellor of the Exchequer is a very
different person from the Lord Chancellor. The
Exchequer was an institution in the old duchy of
Normandy. It was both for the king's treasury, and
for sending out judges. Some people say the name
came from schicken, to send; some* that it was from
the checkered room where the persons concerned in it
sat.

Edward, — ^You said that some of the Judges were
called Barons of the Exchequer.

Mr, L, — Yes, but it is with the financial, that is, the
money part that we are most concerned. The manager
of the expenses of government was called the Chancellor
of the Exchequer in the time of Henry ill., and now it
is the Chancellor of the Exchequer who estimates how
much money will be wanted for the year, and suggests
any change in the way of raising it. This account is
brought forward once a year, and is called the Budget,
another old word.

Edward, — And that must be in the House of
Commons V

Mr, L, — Yes, for the Lords have nothing to do with
raising the supplies. So a Peer never can be Chancellor
of the Exchequer, but on the other hand the Lord
Chancellor must be a Peer, for he has to be to the

216 TALKS ABOUT THE LAWS

Lords what the Speaker is to the Commons. They
cannot sit without him on his wool-sack.

Herbert, — I thought he was a great lawyer.

Mr. L, — So he is, the head of all the lawyers in the
kingdom.

Herbert, — Then he is made a lord 1

Mr, L, — Yes, a peerage is given to him. The court
of Chancery is the supreme court for judging between
subject and subject, and to which matters of trust are
referred. The sovereign being the natural guardian
of orphans, the Chancellor, as his representative,
"manages all questions about children under age who
have property, decides questions as to which relations
shall have the care of them, and the like.

George, — How has he time if he has to be always
sitting in the House of Lords 1

Mr. L. — He has Vice-Chancellors to do most of his
law business. Besides, the Lords do not sit so often
or so long as the Commons. Another important part
of the Lord Chancellor's office is to keep the Great
Seal, which is made fresh at the beginning of each reign,
and' impressions are affixed to all Acts of Parliament
to confirm them.

Herbeii, — I know the pictures of the Great Seals.

Edward, — But there is the Prime Minister besides.

Mr. L, — Or Premier, as it is now the fashion to call
him. He who is to be the ruling spirit of the Cabinet
generally takes the office called First Lord of the
Treasury. I do not think it is an office with much
definite work, but he has to be the most in communica-
tion with the Queen, and to lead his party in which-
ever House he may belong to, as well as doing hosts of

WE LIVE UNDER. 217

other work. And now, I think we have talked enough
to show you a little of the outline of our English
Constitution, and how you — when a man — can affect
the whole nation.

George. — By one's vote.

Mr, L, — By one's honest, faithful life, first of all.
The nation is made up of men and women. Each right-
minded, well-principled person makes it stronger, as
each idler makes it weaker. Your life first then, and
next your vote. On the one hand, keep pure from
bribery and corruption, and, on the other, beware
before all things of being led away by such papers, and
such men, as work on people's passions and greediness,
to try to persuade them that all authorities are tyrants
and oppressors.

Tom. — Grandfather says they told every one that if
the Reform Bill passed, every poor man would have a
fat pig in his stye.

Mr. L. — And fifty years have only brought the fat
pig to those who would have got it in former times, the
sober industrious men. Yes, lads, let us bring away
from our talks the assurance that the only way to be
blessings to ourselves and our country is to follow the
great old rule, " Fear God and honour the King," —
honour him, that is, by faithfully keeping the laws of
the country, and doing our best for God and man in
our own place, whatever it may be.

PRINTED BY T. AND A. CONSTABLE, PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY,
AT THE EDINBURGH UNIVERSITY PRESS.

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