," says Mr. Snivel,
holding his glass in the light, and squinting his blood-shotten eyes,
the lids of which he has scarce power to keep open. "Drink,
George--drink! You have had your day--why let such nonsense trouble
you? The whole city is in love with the girl. Her beauty makes her
capricious; if the old Judge has got her, let him keep her. Indeed, I'm
not so sure that she doesn't love him, and (well, I always laugh when I
think of it), it is a well laid down principle among us lawyers, that no
law stands good against love." Mr. Snivel's leaden eyelids close, and
his head drops upon his bosom. "She never can love him--never! His
wealth, and some false tale, has beguiled her. He is a hoary-headed
lecher, with wealth and position to aid him in his hellish pursuits; I
am poor, and an outcast! He has flattered me and showered his favors
upon me, only to affect my ruin. I will have--"

"Pshaw! George," interrupts Mr. Snivel, brightening up, "be a
philosopher. Chivalry, you know--chivalry! A dashing fellow like you
should doff the kid to a knight of his metal: challenge him." Mr. Snivel
reaches over the table and pats his opponent on the arm. "These women,
George! Funny things, eh? Make any kind of love--have a sample for every
sort of gallant, and can make the quantity to suit the purchaser. 'Pon
my soul this is my opinion. I'm a lawyer, know pretty well how the sex
lay their points. As for these unfortunate devils, as we of the
profession call them (he pauses and empties his glass, saying, not bad
for a house of this kind), there are so many shades of them, life is
such a struggle with them; they dream of broken hopes, and they die
sighing to think how good a thing is virtue. You only love this girl
because she is beautiful, and beautiful women, at best, are the most
capricious things in the world. D--n it, you have gone through enough of
this kind of life to be accustomed to it. We think nothing of these
things, in Charleston--bless you, nothing! Keep the Judge your
friend--his position may give him a means to serve you. A man of the
world ought at all times to have the private friendship of as many
judges as he can."

"Never! poor as I am--outcast as I feel myself! I want no such
friendship. Society may shun me, the community may fear me, necessity
may crush me--yea! you may regard me as a villain if you will, but, were
I a judge, I would scorn to use my office to serve base ends." As he
says this he draws a pistol fr