instigated to _infringe_ the laws of their country. If there were
no demand there would be no supply."

"Surely they don't _all_ drink gin?" replied Debriseau.

"Drink gin! You're thinking of your damned Cherbourg trade,--your ideas
are confined. Is there nothing smuggled besides gin? Now, if the
husbands and fathers of these ladies,--those who have themselves enacted
the laws,--wink at their _infringement_, why should not others do so?
The only distinction between the equally offending parties is, that
those who are in power,--who possess all the comforts and luxuries which
this world can afford,--who offend the laws from vanity and caprice, and
entice the needy to administer to their love of display, are protected
and unpunished; while the adventurous seaman, whose means of supporting
his family depend upon his administering to their wishes, or the poor
devil who is unfortunately detected with a gallon of spirits, is thrown
into gaol as if he were a _felon_. There cannot be one law for the rich
and another for the poor, Debriseau. When I hear that the wives of the
aristocracy have been seized by the revenue officers, and the contraband
articles which they wear have been taken off their backs, and that they
have been sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment, by a committal from
the magistrate, then--and not till then--will I acknowledge our
profession to be _dishonest_."

"Very true," said Debriseau; "it shows the folly of men attempting to
make laws for their _masters_."

"Is it not shocking," continued McElvina, "to reflect upon the conduct
of the magistrate, who has just sentenced perhaps four or five unhappy
wretches to a dungeon for an offence against these laws? He leaves the
seat of Justice, and returns to the bosom of his family. Here his
wife," (mimicking)--"`Well, my dear, you're come at last--dinner has
been put back this half-hour. I thought you would never have finished
with those odious smugglers.' `Why, my love, it was a very difficult
case to prove; but we managed it at last, and I have signed the warrant
for their committal to the county gaol. They're sad, troublesome
fellows, these smugglers.'--Now look at the lady: `What dress is that
you put on to greet your husband?' `Gros de Naples de Lyon.'--`The lace
it is trimmed with?' `Valenciennes,'--`Your gloves, madam?' `Fabrique
de Paris.'--`Your ribands, your shoes, your handkerchief?' All, all
contraband.--Worthy magistrate, if you wo