Mary Anns, shall have desecrated its altars
and profaned its hearth.

CHIP.
COMPROMISING COMPROMISES.

ABOUT seventeen years ago, a fashionable
West End bank failed through unavoidable
causes. The shareholders were furious;
and instantly threw everything connected
with it into Chancery, where the affairs
have remained ever since. Half of the directors
emigrated; leaving only three to bear
the brunt of the losses: an influential earl,
a gentleman of large fortune holding an
office in the Exchequer, and another,
possessed of a considerable sum, the reward
of long services in the East India Company.
For seventeen years these unfortunate
ex-directors have been the victims of Chancery
proceedings: the earl cramped in all his
movements; the second, seeing his noble
fortune dwindling away; the third, after
five years' struggle, dying of heart disease,
brought on by anxiety in the cause. This
gentleman left a widow and one daughter;
and, year after year, these two frail beings
were tossed on the troubled waves of
Chancery, — first raised aloft almost to hope, then
sunk deep into the depths of despair. Their
entire fortune was being rapidly devoured by
lawyers, and the pen of the younger lady
(now growing up) likely to be soon their only
support.

This was the state of things when a
compromise was suggested. We have seen since
that this is quite a usual proposition when
causes have come to a crisis, or when counsel
at assizes held in one town, wish to be off
to earn new fees in another.  In this case, it
was argued, was it not better to lay down all
at once and buy peace at any price, than, by
not compromising, to run the chance of saving
some portion as an independence for the
declining years of the elder lady, at the price
of prolonging the torture and suspense which
might cut short those years? The former
course was advised by counsel; who
exclaimed, " Pay, pay; give up your fortune,
or we cannot save you from ruin! " Still
the ladies hesitated. Who would not ?
Providentially, one of the many opposing
counsel became enamoured of the daughter,
and was determined to save her. He let her
know that she was the victim of the deepest
deception; that the compromise was merely
proposed as a plea for levying a final heavy
contribution on all the unhappy parties in
the cause; and that, if it could come to one
hearing more, her side must win. All
compromise was resolutely refused; and every
possible effort was made by the attorney to
change this resolution. For six months
daily letters, of alternately mild and threatening
character, poured in; visits of the most
distressing nature from friends and enemies,
with the continual assurance that seven
years was the shortest limit of the litigation ;
while others gravely put off the solution
to doomsday if no compromise was effected.

If ever firmness was required and displayed,
it was in this case; and, finding every effort
useless to extract the money by persecution,
surreptitious means were resorted to; the
cause being all this time expressly deferred.
One of the counsel took a long journey into
a remote village to endeavour to persuade
the sum required to compromise the cause
out of the executor, an aged bed-ridden
man. Fortunately he would not take such a
responsibility upon himself. The attorney
then gave notice that all the remaining
property should be thrown into Chancery, under
the plea that the executor was incapable. He
would have carried this scheme into effect, if
the ladies had not now taken the only means
left them for defence. To appear in open
court; to inform the judge of all these
intolerable proceedings in the presence of the
astonished counsel, and to implore him not
to sanction them. They were listened to,
protected, and saved. Further delay was
peremptorily refused, and the cause was
gained, with costs, in five days.

This is one instance of a thousand in which
causes are fed and fattened upon by legal
birds of prey; or are corruptly compromised.
It is, alas! one instance in ten thousand of
justice being summarily done by the prompt
interference of the court.

THE SIGHING SHADE.

LADY MAUD sitteth alone,
Weaving her tapestry;
Silken lily, and rose, and leaf,
And spangled butterfly.
Slender threads drawn through, and through,
Changing, gay and rich of hue
As rainbow in the sky.

Lady Maud is quiet and proud,
Scornful of lip and brow ;
Her heart in her bosom lieth cold,
But pure as unfallen snow.
He who loves her is good and great,
Brave and noble, of high estate,
And tender, too, I trow.

He has said his say and he is gone,
She dreameth o'er his face ;
She heareth still his lofty words,—
He is of knightly race.
Never a word of guile spake he,
Never a word of love spake she,
His voice hath left its trace.

'' I was too cold and proud," said she,
"Such love cannot be bought :
'Twas pleasant to hear his loving words—
O ! heart of mine, thou'rt nought ! "
She raised her face to the twilight sky,
Beside her was breathed a deep low sigh,
Like burden of painful thought.

She turn'd in haste to search the gloom,
Startled, and chill'd, and pale:
All was silent and she alone—
Again that fearsome wail !