ake the benefit of the
act--commonly called "an act for the relief of poor debtors." But before
he can reach this boon, ten days must elapse. Generous-minded
legislators, no doubt, intended well when they constructed this act, but
so complex are its provisions that any legal gentleman may make it a
very convenient means of oppression. And in a community where laws not
only have their origin in the passions of men, but are made to serve
popular prejudices--where the quality of justice obtained depends upon
the position and sentiments of him who seeks it,--the weak have no
chance against the powerful.

The multiplicity of notices, citations, and schedules, necessary to the
setting free of this "poor debtor" (for these fussy officials must be
paid), Maria finds making a heavy drain on her lean purse.

The Court is in session, and the ten days having glided away, the old
man is brought into "open Court" by two officials with long tipstaffs,
and faces looking as if they had been carefully pickled in strong
drinks. "Surely, now, they'll set me free--I can give them no more--I am
old and infirm--they have got all--and my daughter!" he muses within
himself. Ah! he little knows how uncertain a thing is the law.

The Judge is engaged over a case in which two very fine old families are
disputing for the blood and bones of a little "nigger" girl. The
possession of this helpless slave, the Judge (he sits in easy dignity)
very naturally regards of superior importance when compared with the
freedom of a "poor debtor." He cannot listen to the story of
destitution--precisely what was sought by Keepum--to-day, and to-morrow
the Court adjourns for six months.

The Antiquary is remanded back to his cell. No one in Court cares for
him; no one has a thought for the achings of that heart his release
would unburden; the sorrows of that lone girl are known only to herself
and the One in whom she puts her trust. She, nevertheless, seeks the old
man in his prison, and there comforts him as best she can.

Five days more, and the "prisoner" is brought before the Commissioner
for Special Bail, who is no less a personage than the rosy-faced Clerk
of the Court, just adjourned. And here we cannot forbear to say, that
however despicable the object sought, however barren of right the plea,
however adverse to common humanity the spirit of the action, there is
always to be found some legal gentleman, true to the lower instincts of
the profession, read