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A favourite at the Old Bailey, and eke at the Sessions, Mr.

Stryver had begun cautiously to hew away the lower staves of the

ladder on which he mounted. Sessions and Old Bailey had now to

summon their favourite, specially, to their longing arms; and

shouldering itself towards the visage of the Lord Chief Justice

in the Court of King's Bench, the florid countenance of Mr.

Stryver might be daily seen, bursting out of the bed of wigs,

like a great sunflower pushing its way at the sun from among a

rank garden-full of flaring companions.