THE FISHERIES. 121 



cord the legislator, and the advocate, have swept for 

 ever from our halls, the long-prized cobwebs. 



Proud are our recollections of the wit and elo- 

 quence that once resounded through our domes ; 

 sincere our admiration and respect, for all those 

 sages of our law — present and past — whose learn- 

 ing, wisdom, integrity, and independence, adorned, 

 or still adorn our halls ; deep and warm our sym- 

 pathy with the many learned, laborious, and honour- 

 able men, who, toiling in an humbler sphere of forensic 

 usefulness, are now left stranded by the receding 

 tide; but small our grief, and light is our regret, for 

 wasteful privileges, useless forms, and empty techni- 

 calities. 



And what, alas! remains, for honourable pursuit 

 or practice, of all that mighty fabric, which once 

 rivalled the proud halls of Westminster ? — a mere 

 wreck. ' Progress,' demon or angel, said the word, 

 and lo 1 — slowly, but sure, — a proud profession fades 

 before the wave of the magician's wand. Still we 

 must admit, our legal system was all too unwieldy 

 for our wants — no more the butterfly will be spread 

 upon the wheel, or vast machinery be set in motion 

 to do some LiUiputian work. — Lofty was the sys- 

 tem, high and independent was its practice, and 

 proud its prestiges : but it is gone ; shorn of its 

 rays, its profits, and its privileges — it withers, and 

 it dies. 



And what at length will survive, of all our anci- 



G 



