Hereof then just a little sample: let us call it '_A Judgment in the Rolls Court_;' or in any other; I care not.
Precedent's slave, this mountebank decides As great Authority, not Reason, guides.
"'Tis not for him, degenerate wight, to say Faults can be mended at this time of day, For Coke himself declared--no matter what-- Can Justice suffer what Lord Coke would not?
And if 1 Siderfin, p.

10, you scan, Lord Hoax has fixed the rule, that learned man: I cannot, dare not, if I would, be just, My hands are tied, and follow Hoax I must; That _very_ learned Lord could not be wrong.
Besides, in fact, it has been settled long, For the great case of Hitchcock versus Bundy Decided--( Cro.Eliz.per Justice Grundy), That [black was white];--and so, what can I say?
Landmarks are things must not be moved away: I cannot put the clock of Wisdom back, And solemnly pronounce that black _is_ black.
Though plaintiff has the right, I grant it clear, I must be ruled by Hoax and Hitchcock here: Equity follows, does not mend the laws: Therefore declare, defendant gains the cause." Then, as virtuously bound, Indignation interrogates sundry ejaculations; or, if you like it better, ejaculates sundry interrogations: as thus, take a brace: If right and reason both combine in one, Why, in God's name, should justice not be done?
If law be not a lie, and judgments jokes, Why not _be just_, and cut adrift Lord Hoax?
After a vast deal more in this vein of literature--for you perceive my present purpose is dissection in part of this ancient rhyme--we arrive at a magnanimous-- No! Right shall have his own, put off no longer By rule of Former, or by whim of Stronger; Nor, because Jack goes tumbling down the hill, Shall precedent create a tumbling Jill.
Public opinion soon shall change the scene, And wash the Law's Augaean stable clean; Sweep out the Temple, drive the sellers thence, And lead, in novel triumph, Common Sense.
Verily, this is of the dullest, but it is brief: endure it, and pray you consider the deadliness of the topic, and the barbarous cruelty wherewith courtesy has clipped the wings of my poor spite.

Let us turn to other title-pages; assuring all the world that no specific mountebank has been here intended, and that nothing more is meant than a nerveless blow against legal cant, quainter than Quarles's, and against that well-known species of Equity, which must have been so titled from like antiquated reasons with those that induced Numa and his company to call a dark grove, lucus.
* * * * * How many foes, in this utilitarian era, has that very unwarrantable vice, called Poetry! All who despise love and love-making, all who prefer billiards to meditation, all who value hard cash above mental riches, feel privileged to hate it; while really, typographers, the illegible diamond print in which you generally set it up, whether in book, or newspaper, or handbill, or magazine, induces many an indifferent peruser to skip the poem for the sake of his eye-sight.

I presume that the monosyllable, rhyme, comprehends pretty nearly all that the world at large intends by poetry; and, in the same manner as certain critics have sneered at Livy--no, it was Tacitus--for commencing his work with a bad hexameter, so many a reader will now-a-days condemn a whole book, because it is somewhere found guilty of harbouring a distich.

But poetry, friend World, means far other than rhyme; its etymology would yield "creation," or "fabrication," of sense as well as sound, and of melody for the eye as well as melody for the ear.