“The eyes of England are upon us—­reverse this conviction, and you let loose a rebel band upon the country, ripe for treason, stratagem, or spoil—­you overturn the finest order of society in the world; henceforth no man’s property will be safe, the laws will be disregarded, and even the upright, talented, and independent magistracy of England brought into contempt.  But I feel convinced that your decision will be far otherwise—­that by it you will teach these hot-headed—­rebellious—­radical grocers that they cannot offend with impunity, and show them that there is a law which reaches even the lowest and meanest inhabitant of these realms, that amid these days of anarchy and innovation you will support the laws and aristocracy of this country, that you will preserve to our children, and our children’s children, those rights and blessings which a great and enlightened administration have conferred upon ourselves, and raise for Tomkins of Tomkins and the magistracy of the proud county of Surrey, a name resplendent in modern times and venerated to all eternity.”

Here Bumptious cast a parting frown at Jorrocks, and banging down his brief, tucked his gown under his arm, turned on his heel and left the court, to indulge in a glass of pale sherry and a sandwich, regardless which way the verdict went, so long as he had given him a good quilting.  The silence that followed had the effect of rousing some of the dozing justices, who nudging those who had fallen asleep, they all began to stir themselves, and having laid their heads together, during which time they settled the dinner-hour for that day, and the meets of the staghounds for the next fortnight, they began to talk of the matter before the court.

“I vote for reversing,” said Squire Jolthead; “Jorrocks is such a capital fellow.”  “I must support Boreem,” said Squire Hicks:  “he gave me a turn when I made the mistaken commitment of Gipsy Jack.”  “What do you say, Mr. Giles?” inquired Mr. Tomkins.  “Oh, anything you like, Mr. Tomkins.”  “And you, Mr. Hopper?” who had been asleep all the time.  “Oh! guilty, I should say—­three months at the treadmill—­privately whipped, if you like,” was the reply.  Mr. Petty always voted on whichever side Bumptious was counsel—­the learned serjeant having married his sister—­and four others always followed the chair.

Tomkins then turned round, the magistrates resumed their seats along the bench, and coming forward he stood before the judge’s chair, and taking off his hat with solemn dignity and precision, laid it down exactly in the centre of the desk, amid cries from the bailiffs and ushers for “Silence, while the justices of the peace of our sovereign lord the king, deliver the judgment of the court.”