might, if brought into the intimate contact
which travelling together implies, fall into such
discussions concerning the cases about to be
tried, as might prove contrary to the laws of
that professional etiquette which regulates what
should and what should not be the nature of the
intercourse between solicitor and advocate. In
a word, it was found that such association might
lead to what are stigmatised as "unprofessional
practices."

Of course, as it had been determined by those
who have the ordering of such matters, that the
attorney and barrister should not travel together
from one town to another, it was not likely that
the two classes should be allowed to reside
together when the journey's end was attained.
Accordingly, it was arranged as a regulation
which was on no account to be infringed, that
when the attorney arrived at his destination, he
was to take up his abode at the inn, while the
barrister was to provide himself with private
lodgings in the town. Inns were not (as a rule)
so comfortable in the days when this arrangement
was made as they are now, and it is to be
supposed that the barrister had, generally
speaking, the best of it.

Now, these two regulations, which bind the
barrister, first, to travel by a different conveyance
from that used by the attorney, and
secondly, to adopt a different place of abode
from that which the attorney makes use of,
should surely stand or fall together. If one of
them be binding, the other should be also.
Unfortunately, nobody seems to see the thing in
this light; at any rate, no one attempts to
remedy the inconsistency that though the barrister
and the attorney travel together in the same
conveyance from London to York, they may not
both put up at the same hotel when they get
there. Surely this is an illogical state of things,
unworthy of a profession which "goes in" for
close reasoning.

The inconvenience arising from a strict
adherence to this law which forbids the attorney
and the barrister to inhabit the same house is
very great, and falls heavily on the latter.
Not only is it more convenient, when a short
residence only is contemplated, to take up
one's abode at an establishment intended for
the use of travellers, but it is, of course, less
expensive. The attorney has the advantage
of the barrister in every way. He not only
arrives at a well–lighted, cheerful–looking house
where everything is organised expressly with a
view to the traveller's convenience, and where
he has only to ring a bell to have all his
wants supplied—not only has he all these
advantages, but he pays less for them. Those
dingy lodgings to which the barrister is
consigned when he arrives at the assize town, are
not only dingy but very expensive: for the
simple reason that it is necessary they should
be kept vacant when he does not want them, in
order that they may be available for his use
when he does want, them. It is not the lodging–
house–keeper who is to blame here, but the
system. Of course the lodgings must be paid
for, and if the owner of the lodgings fails of
obtaining a permanent tenant, because at certain
seasons he expects an occasional tenant, it is not
surprising that he should expect remunerative
compensation for the loss he sustains. It is
inexpressibly annoying to reach some town where one
knows there is a particularly good hotel, and to
see the attorneys walking off to their comfortable
quarters, while you, the barrister, betake
yourself to those gloomy apartments over the
chemist's which are regularly reserved for your
use.

Yes, you repair with a sinking heart, to your
bedroom first, to seek some refreshment after
your long journey, and you find that the water
supply is on the old niggardly scale, and that
the large ewer and basin which they promised
you on the occasion of your last visit has not
been supplied. And then sitting down upon the
side of the bed—which every man who is worth
twopence always does when he wipes his hands
—you find that that infernal feather–bed has
come to the surface once again, and is softer, too,
than ever. Is it not astounding how slowly
reform advances in this country? For at least
a score of years feather–beds have been
denounced by everybody, and yet there they still
are flourishing in almost every lodging–house in
England. With how little hope it is that when
looking for apartments you advance to the bed
and administer the great punch test. In goes
your fist into the horrid soft mass just as you
expected.

With what wonderful establishments has this
dire regulation, of which I am complaining,
made me acquainted! My experience in the
matter of lodgings is enormous, and one result
of that experience is, that they are all singularly
alike. In all, I have found a circular table,
and a cheffonier which emits, on being opened, a
composite smell of cooked ham, candles, spirits,
and tea–leaves—of general chandlery, in short.
And well it may do so, this receptacle having
been used by all previous lodgers both as a
larder and a store–room. I have found, moreover,
that stamped felt is used in most lodgings
as a substitute for Brussels carpet, and that shells
are in favour as chimney–piece ornaments, though
not to the exclusion of white china lambs
touched up with gold, and poodle dogs of
hideous aspect plunging their muzzles into
baskets of petrified shaving–lather representing
flowers.

The cookery, again, at one lodging–house is
curiously like the cookery at another lodging–
house. The eggs are invariably either underdone
or hard, the potatoes are watery, and the
chops are subjected to some treatment which
gives them a grey colour when they appear on
table: though how they are brought into that
unnatural condition is unknown to the present
writer.

And then the lodging–house servants: how
little variety there is among the different
specimens of that noble race! How short they are,
and how thick. How dirty are their hands, and
how hard they work. It is doubtful whether any