not old Flaw, in suppliant way,
Demurring to so hard a fate,
Begg'd but a look, tho' through the gate.
St. Peter, rather off his guard,
Unwilling to be thought too hard,
Opens the gate to let him peep in.
What did the lawyer? Did he creep in?
Or dash at once to take possession?
Oh no, he knew his own profession:
He took his hat off with respect,
And would no gentle means neglect;
But finding it was all in vain
For him admittance to obtain,
Thought it were best, let come what will,
To gain an entry by his skill.
So while St. Peter stood aside,
To let the door be opened wide,
He skimmed his hat with all his strength
Within the gate to no small length.
St. Peter stared; the lawyer asked him
"Only to fetch his hat," and passed him;
But when he reached the jack he'd thrown,
Oh, then was all the lawyer shown;
He clapt it on, and arms akembo
(As if he had been the gallant Bembo),
Cry'd out--'What think you of my plan?
Eject me, Peter, if you can.'"

The celestial courts having devised no process of ejectment that could
be employed in this unlooked-for emergency, St. Peter hastily withdrew
to take counsel's opinion; and during his absence Mr. Flaw firmly
established himself in the realms of bliss, where he remains to this day
the black sheep of the saintly family.

But though a flippant humorist in these later times could deride the
lawyer as a character who had better not force his way into heaven,
since he would not find a single personal acquaintance amongst its
inhabitants, in more remote days lawyers achieved the honors of
canonization, and our forefathers sought their saintly intercession with
devout fervor. Our calendars still regard the 15th of July as a sacred
day, in memory of the holy Swithin, who was tutor to King Ethelwulf and
King Alfred, and Chancellor of England, and who certainly deserved his
elevation to the fellowship of saints, even had his title to the honor
rested solely on a remarkable act which he performed in the exercise of
his judicial functions. A familiar set of nursery rhymes sets forth the
utter inability of all the King's horses and men to reform the shattered
Humpty-Dumpty, when his rotund highness had fallen from a wall; but when
a wretched market-woman, whose entire basketful of new-laid eggs had
been wilfully smashed by an enemy, sought in her trouble the aid of
Chancery, the holy Chancellor Swithin mir