“CLERK.  Ay, sir, but priests then cheated the nation by doing their offices in an unknown language.

“PUZZLE.  True, but ours is a way much surer; for we cheat in no language at all, but loll in our own coaches, eloquent in gibberish, and learned in jingle.  Pull out the parchment [referring to the will of LORD BRUMPTON], there’s the deed; I made it as long as I could.  Well, I hope to see the day when the indenture shall be the exact measure of the land that passes by it; for ’tis a discouragement to the gown, that every ignorant rogue of an heir should in a word or two understand his father’s meaning, and hold ten acres of land by half-an-acre of parchment.  Nay, I hope to see the time when that there is indeed some progress made in, shall be wholly affected; and by the improvement of the noble art of tautology, every Inn in Holborn an Inn of Court.  Let others think of logic, rhetoric, and I know not what impertinence, but mind thou tautology.  What’s the first excellence in a lawyer?  Tautology.  What’s the second?  Tautology.  What’s the third?  Tautology; as an old pleader said of action.”

* * * * *

Who shall say that the tautological sentiments of Mr. Puzzle are not still inculcated?  Nay, the whole play furnishes a capital instance of the truism that the world changes but little, and, furthermore, that the mould of nigh two centuries cannot spoil the wit of sparkling Steele.  Ah, Dick!  Dick! you may have been a sorry dog, with your toasts and your taverns, yet ’tis a thousand pities that a few dramatists of to-day cannot drink inspiration from the same cups.

To continue our cheerful journey with this unusual “Funeral,” we soon find ourselves introduced to Lord Hardy, the unjustly discarded son of Brumpton.  Hardy is a high-spirited, honest man of quality, a trifle out at elbows just now, owing to the stoppage of financial supplies from the paternal mansion.  His straits are oft severe, and it is fortunate that he has in Trim a faithful servant who knows so well how to keep the duns at bay.  “Why, friend, says I [Trim is describing to Hardy his method of dealing with his lordship’s creditors], how often must I tell you my lord is not stirring.  His lordship has not slept well, you must come some other time; your lordship will send for him when you are at leisure to look upon money affairs; or if they are so saucy, so impertinent as to press a man of your quality for their own, there are canes, there’s Bridewel, there’s the stocks for your ordinary tradesmen; but to an haughty, thriving Covent Garden mercer, silk or laceman, your lordship gives your most humble service to him, hopes his wife is well; you have letters to write, or you would see him yourself, but you desire he would be with you punctually on such a day, that is to say, the day after you are gone out of town, Which shows very plainly that Trim could have earned large wages had he lived in the nineteenth century.  These ‘Palmy Days’ are not long enough, however, to permit the introduction of all the characters, nor the outlining of the entire story, with its brisk love-interest.  But this bit of dialogue, which occurs after Sable has discovered the much-alive Lord Brumpton, is too good to be ignored: