on the point of renewing the conversation, when one of the plump gentlemen, who in additon to a benevolent countenance, possessed a pair of spectacles, and a pair of black gaiters, interfered—
"The fact of the matter is," said the benevolent gentleman, "that my friend here (pointing to the other plump gentleman) will give you half a guinea, if you'll answer one or two—"
"Now, my dear sir—my dear sir," said the little man, "pray, allow me—my dear sir, the very first principle to be observed in these cases, is this: if you place a matter in the hands of a professional man, you must in no way interfere in the progress of the business; you must repose implicit confidence in him. Really, Mr. (he turned to the other plump gentleman, and said)—I forget your friend's name."
"Pickwick," said Mr. Wardle, for it was no other than that jolly personage.
"Ah, Pickwick—really Mr. Pickwick, my dear sir, excuse me—I shall be happy to receive any private suggestions of yours, as amicus curiæ, but you must see the impropriety of your interfering with my conduct in this case, with such an ad captandum argument as the offer of half a guinea. Really, my dear sir, really;" and the little man took an argumentative pinch of snuff, and looked very profound.
"My only wish, sir," said Mr. Pickwick. "was to bring this very unpleasant matter to as speedy a close as possible."
"Quite right—quite right," said the little man.
"With which view," continued Mr. Pickwick, "I made use of the argument which my experience of men has taught me is the most likely to succeed in any case."
"Ay, ay," said the little man, very good, very good, indeed; but you should have suggested it to me. My dear sir, I'm quite certain cannot be ignorant of the extent of confidence which must be placed in professional men. If any authority can be necessary on such a point, my dear sir, let me refer you to the well-known case in Barnwell and—"
"Never mind George Barnwell," interrupted Sam, who had