to meet a greater, a more awful one!  May that be granted, my Lord! oh, may He grant it!  I am very feeble, my Lord, but still able to entreat that your lordship will temper justice with mercy.  About a month ago, my Lord, when I little apprehended the occurrence which—­but may His will be done!  My honesty is known, my Lord; it is known there, pointing up—­about a month ago, I say, I had my last child baptized by—­I am ashamed to tell your lordship what name, lest you might imagine that I done so for the purpose of biasing your judgment in the—­No, my Lord, I will add nothing to the simple fact—­I had my last child baptized by the name of Richard Pennywinkle M’Slime—­a circumstance which fills my heart with sentiments of joy and gratification up to this moment.  And I am not depressed—–­far from it.  This, my Lord, is a trial, and I know, for I feel, that it is good for me to be tried, inasmuch as it is a proof that I am cared for THERE!” and he pointed again upwards as he spoke.

The judge, who was a kind-hearted and humane man, was melted even unto tears which he could with difficulty restrain whilst he spoke.

“Unhappy man,” said he, “I have been for several years in the habit of dispensing law—­”

“Justice, you mean, my Lord,” said Solomon; “oh, justice, justice, or rather mercy, my Lord! little of law have you ever dispensed!  Oh, little of law—­but much of justice.  May He be praised for it! amen, amen!”

“Your case, unhappy man, is one which places me in a peculiarly painful position indeed.  The compliment you were good enough to pay me—­I mean that of calling your child after me—­makes me feel as if in addressing you I was—­” here he sobbed and wiped his eyes bitterly, and was about to proceed, when Widow Lenehan’s counsel rose up, and said:—­

“My Lord, it is really too bad that hypocrisy should continue its impositions even to the last act of the drama.  I feel it my duty to disabuse your lordship in this matter of naming the child after you.  Perhaps the compliment will be considerably diminished, if not absolutely reversed, when you come to know, my Lord, that the child which bears your lordship’s name—­if it does bear it—­is an illegitimate one, and very unworthy, indeed, my Lord of bearing such an honored name as yours.”

The judge had been shedding tears for Solomon’s calamities during this address, but it is almost unnecessary to say that the change from the benevolent and pathetic to the indignant was as fine a specimen as ever was given of the ludicrous.

“Do you mean to tell me,” said the judge, the whole features of his face in a state of transition that was perfectly irresistible; “do you mean to tell me that the child which the wretched! man had the insolence to name after me, was not born in wedlock.

“My Lord,” said Solomon, “this is a subject on which aided by my great namesake the wisest of—­”

“The decision of the court,” continued the judge, “is, that your name be struck off the list of Attornies who practice here.”