leases are made for the term of 999 years, because a lease for 1000 years would create a freehold.That deeds executed on a Sunday are void.―That in order to disinherit an heir at law, it is neces→ sary to give him a shilling by the will, for that otherwise he would be entitled to the whole property."

The surprise of a stranger who happens to enter Serjeant's Inn while the judges are sitting, has something very amusing in it. No sooner has his foot crossed the threshold, than a number of officious gentlemen press around him with the kind offer, "Do you want bail, Sir?" at the same time endeavouring to thrust a small piece of paper into his hand. The ready benevolence of these individuals is naturally very marvellous to him, and it is not until he learns that they expect their services to be rewarded with half-a-crown, that his surprise ceases. It is often found convenient to put in bail immediately, and the names of these men of straw are accordingly inserted, until some substantial persons can be obtained, who may be able to justify, or swear they are worth a certain sum. In one of the public libraries at Cambridge is preserved a small tract, which gives a curious account of this class of people, such as they existed upwards of two centuries ago. The title is as follows:

"The Discoverie of the Knights of the Poste, or the Knights of the Poste, or Common Baylers newly descried, &c." By E. S. at London. Printed by G. S. & are to be sold neare the Golden Lyon, in the Olde Bayly. 1597."

"How doe all our ancient acquaintance, the good oath-takers, or common baylers, alias, the knights of the poste, the lords of Lob's-pound, and heires apparent to the pilory,-for it was a small matter, instead of hearing morning praier, to goe fasting before a justice, and forsweare himself, whereby he hath gotten many a crowne. When he was hired to come before any judge to baile a man, it was his accustomed use to call himself by a wrong name; and if he dwelt in Long-lane, perhaps he would say he dwelt in White-chappell, and so neither certifie them of his right name, nor of his true dwelling place, so that if any enquiery be made of him, in such place where he affirmed himself to dwell, there is no such man to be found, and by this meanes he scapes manie a scouring.

"There is a most braue fellow, but very newly crept into this crew, and his name is N., wellknown, one that looks very high, and at every word casteth his eye above Powls steeple, as if he would quarrel with the moone, or had some controversie against the seuen starres. In his attire he is neat and fine, also in his speeche stately, and

of a scornfull countenance, and when he comes into Westminster Hall, he bends his browes, as if he would beare downe the King's Bench barre with his lookes.-Twenty more of such fellows could I name, if that leasure would serue me, and as I have rehearst their names, so could I shew you many of their actions, what wylie and amusing pranks they play.-And, through want of meate, many times they walke out their dinner in. Duke Humfrey his allie, or else fetch a sleepe under a pillar in Powle, only to beguile hunger.You may have them most commonly in Fleetstreete, about Serjeant's-inn, or else about Chancery-lane, or else in some of the pudding-pie houses at Westminster; out of term-time, you shall have them commonly once or twice a day, walking in Duke Humfrey's-alley, in Powles, or at the Lion, at the back-side of St. Nicholas-shambles, or at the Rose in Parnier-alley, or at the Dolphin, at the end of Carter-lane, and sometimes at the Wooll-sack, in the same Lane, and there lye crushing of the two-penny ale pot by halfe a day together. Thus, most gentle reader, have you heard of the cunning shiftes and wicked devices of those lewde and evile-minded persons."

CHARACTER OF SAUNDERS.

One of the most admirable biographical sketches in the language is that of Sir Edmund Saunders,

Chief-Justice of the King's Bench, in the reign of Charles II., by Roger North, in the Memoirs of his Brother, the Lord Keeper Guilford. The character is drawn in North's somewhat rude style, but possesses wonderful vivacity and spirit.

"The Lord Chief-Justice Saunders succeeded in the room of Pemberton. His character and his beginning were equally strange. He was at first no better than a poor beggar-boy, if not a parish foundling, without known parents or relations. He had found a way to live by obsequiousness, (in Clement's Inn, as I remember,) and courting the attornies' clerks for scraps. The extraordinary observance and diligence of the boy, made the society willing to do him good. He appeared very ambitious to learn to write; and one of the attornies got a board knocked up at a window on the top of a staircase; and that was his desk, where he sat and wrote after copies of court and other hands the clerks gave him. He made himself so expert a writer, that he took in business, and earned some pence by hackney-writing. And thus by degrees, he pushed his faculties, and fell to forms, and, by books that were lent him, became an exquisite entering clerk; and, by the same course of improvement of himself, an able counsel, first in a special pleading, then at large. And, after he was called to the bar, had practice, in the King's Bench Court, equal with any there.

As to his person, he was corpulent and beastly; a mere lump of morbid flesh. He used to say, by his troggs, (such an humorous way of talking he affected,) none could say he wanted issue of his body, for he had nine in his back. He was a fetid mass, that offended his neighbours at the bar in the sharpest degree. Those whose ill-fortune it was to stand near him, were confessors, and, in summer time, almost martyrs. This hateful decay of his carcase, came upon him by continual sottishness,-for, to say nothing of brandy, he was seldom without a pot of ale at his nose, or near him. That exercise was all he used; the rest of his life was sitting at his desk, or piping at home; and that home was a tailor's house in Butcher Bow, called his lodging, and the man's wife was his nurse, or worse; but, by virtue of his money, of which he made little account, though he got a great deal, he soon became master of the family; and, being no changeling, he never removed, but was true to his friends, and they to him, to the last hour of his life.

"So much for his person and education. As for his parts, none had them more lively than he. Wit and repartee, in an affected rusticity, were natural to him; he was ever ready, and never at a loss; and none came so near as he to be a match for Serjeant Mainard. His great dexterity was in the art of special pleading, and he would lay