to give no false evidence or false pleas, to
consent to no tricks or corruption. Among
these and other things we find that he was
to be suspended if he took fees on both
sides. It is astonishing how similar in all
countries and ages, are the temptations
that seem to beset the advocate. This was
Demosthenes in re Phormio repeated.

We have left ourselves no space to do
more than bow in parting, to the worthy
brotherhood of serjeants-at-law, the most
ancient and honoured of leading English
advocates, before the now greater Queen's
counsel was known. They seem to have
been the most favoured class of men in the
kingdom at one time, and though the old
records do not tell us much of all that
they said, they are eloquent of all that
they ate. The newly-installed serjeant
was first called upon to feast on spiced
bread, comfits, and hippocras, " with other
goodly conceits," after which, having
"counted upon his wits," he proceeded to
feed again for the space of a week: and on
one occasion Henry the Eighth and one of
his queens (probably not she who survived
him) dined with the new serjeants. They
stayed for one day, but the serjeants kept
it up for four more.

Thus did the serjeants of old " eat their
terms," and on such fare did the professional
advocate grow up in England. We
cannot part with him on pleasanter terms,
or find matter for more complacent thought
than his brave conservatism. The times
are changed, but he is changed in them as
little as may be. Let other men, in professions
where special acquirements seem
to the superficial to be less an object, be
competitively examined on all hands; the
barrister preserves, " while creeds and
civilisations rise and fall," his proud autonomy.
Hippocras and comfits are things of
the past, and the conceits of the Temple
kitchens may not be always goodly; but,
now as in the olden days, the young
Hortensius of England, making his way to the
bar, is chiefly called upon—to Eat.

WAIFS.

IF I pick up a sovereign in the street, an old
relic behind a sliding panel, or a purse lying
unclaimed on the counter or floor of a shop;
if I buy an old Bible with a concealed banknote
in the cover, or dig up a parcel of old
coins in a field, or discover a bag without an
owner in a railway carriage; if I strike a vein
of precious metal in a quartz rock, or descry
glittering particles of pure gold in alluvial
sands, or take home with me a poor dog who
has lost his master; am I, in these cases, or
any of them, to claim the property as my own?
And if in any, in which?

As to the metallic treasures which lie underground,
simply because they have never
been dug up, they come under the operation
of laws relating to mining; but treasures
"found," under all the various meanings of
this word, are subject to very curious contentions
as to ownership. Because I find something,
it does not necessarily follow that the
something belongs to me. In some countries
a custom has been adopted of awarding such
treasures to the sovereign; in others, of dividing
them between the finder of the article
and the owner of the land whereon found; while
in Denmark, where antiquarian relics are
numerous and valuable, in affording illustrations
of Scandinavian history and usages, a
recent law compels the finder of such property
to give it up to the crown, on condition of
receiving an equivalent in money. In old
times, the monarchs of England claimed ownership
of any relics or treasures found in the
ruins of despoiled and deserted abbeys and
monasteries. James the First, for instance,
granted a patent under the great seal, "To
allow to Mary Middlemore, one of the maydes
of honour to our deerest consort Queen Anne,
and her deputies, power and authority to enter
into the Abbeys of St. Albans, Canterbury, St.
Edmondsbury, and Romsey, and into all lands,
baronies, and houses within a mile belonging
to such abbeys: there to dig and search after
treasure, supposed to be hidden in such places."
A pretty mode of rewarding a court lady!

Many of the facts illustrating this subject
are very curious. Some years ago, a bidder at
an auction bought an old bureau or chest of
drawers. On examining it afterwards, he
discovered a secret drawer which contained gold
coin and bank-notes. He unwisely talked
about his good fortune; the affair came to the
knowledge of the seller, who claimed restitution
of the money. The curious point here,
was, that neither the buyer nor the seller knew
previously of the existence of the property. It
was decided by a court of law that the bureau
only was bought and sold, and that the finder
must give up the money to the former owner of
the bureau. Who had thus hidden the money,
and when, could not be ascertained. A Bible
bought at an old book-stall has been known to
contain bank-notes concealed in the cover; if the
buyer were to noise the fact abroad, it would
depend on many niceties of evidence whether
he could legally keep the money or not.

In truth, it has become a very complex
affair of time, place, and circumstance, to know
whether we may keep what we find. How did
the article become placed where we found it?
And was it on the Queen's highway? If a
man voluntarily throw away property, it is
no longer his; but if he only hide it, or
if he accidentally lose it, he certainly does
not intend to abandon all claim to it. Supposing,
however, that all chance of finding the
former owner must be given up, there are often
many tough contests to be maintained concerning
the rights of the finder.