A BOOK ABOUT LAWYERS. 

by

JOHN CORDY JEAFFRESON, Barrister-at-LawAuthor of"A Book About Doctors, "Etc. , Etc. 

Reprinted from the London Edition. 

Two Volumes in One. 

New York:_Carleton, Publisher, Madison Square. _London: S. Low, Son & Co. , M DCCC LXXV. 

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1807, byG. W. Carleton & Co. , In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for theSouthern District of New York. 

John F. Trow & Son, Printers, 205-213 East 12th St. , New York. 

CONTENTS. 

PART I. HOUSES AND HOUSEHOLDERS. 

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. LADIES IN LAW COLLEGES 7

 II. THE LAST OF THE LADIES 13

 III. YORK HOUSE AND POWIS HOUSE 22

 IV. LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS 27

 V. THE OLD LAW QUARTER 36

PART II. LOVES OF THE LAWYERS. 

 VI. A LOTTERY 49

 VII. GOOD QUEEN BESS 55

 VIII. REJECTED ADDRESSES 62

 IX. "CICERO" UPON HIS TRIAL 71

 X. BROTHERS IN TROUBLE 75

 XI. EARLY MARRIAGES 86

PART III. MONEY. 

 XII. FEES TO COUNSEL 97

 XIII. RETAINERS, GENERAL AND SPECIAL 113

 XIV. JUDICIAL CORRUPTION 122

 XV. GIFTS AND SALES 136

 XVI. A ROD PICKLED BY WILLIAM COLE 143

 XVII. CHIEF JUSTICE POPHAM 149

 XVIII. JUDICIAL SALARIES 153

PART IV. COSTUME AND TOILET. 

 XIX. BRIGHT AND SAD 163

 XX. MILLINERY 169

 XXI. WIGS 171

 XXII. BANDS AND COLLARS 182

 XXIII. BAGS AND GOWNS 187

 XXIV. HATS 195

PART V. MUSIC. 

 XXV. THE PIANO IN CHAMBERS 206

 XXVI. THE BATTLE OF THE ORGANS 208

 XXVII. THE THICKNESS IN THE THROAT 219

PART VI. AMATEUR THEATRICALS. 

 XXVIII. ACTORS AT THE BAR 224

 XXIX. "THE PLAY'S THE THING" 230

 XXX. THE RIVER AND THE STRAND BY TORCHLIGHT 238

 XXXI. ANTI-PRYNNE 243

 XXXII. AN EMPTY GRATE 251

PART VII. LEGAL EDUCATION

 XXXIII. INNS OF COURT AND INNS OF CHANCERY 258

 XXXIV. LAWYERS AND GENTLEMEN 265

 XXXV. LAW-FRENCH AND LAW-LATIN 277

 XXXVI. STUDENT LIFE IN OLD TIME 287

 XXXVII. READERS AND MOOTMEN 298

XXXVIII. PUPILS IN CHAMBERS 307

PART VIII. MIRTH. 

 XXXIX. WIT OF LAWYERS 316

 XL. HUMOROUS STORIES 334

 XLI. WITS IN 'SILK' AND PUNSTERS IN 'ERMINE' 349

 XLII. WITNESSES 365

 XLIII. CIRCUITEERS 376

 XLIV. LAWYERS AND SAINTS 390

PART IX. AT HOME: IN COURT: AND IN SOCIETY. 

 XLV. LAWYERS AT THEIR OWN TABLES 402

 XLVI. WINE 413

 XLVII. LAW AND LITERATURE 423

PART I. 

HOUSES AND HOUSEHOLDERS. 

CHAPTER I. 

LADIES IN LAW COLLEGES. 

A law-student of the present day finds it difficult to realize thebrightness and domestic decency which characterized the Inns of Court inthe sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries. Under existingcircumstances, women of character and social position avoid the gardensand terraces of Gray's Inn and the Temple. 

Attended by men, or protected by circumstances that guard them fromimpertinence and scandal, gentlewomen can without discomfort pass andrepass the walls of our legal colleges; but in most cases a lady entersthem under conditions that announce even to casual passers the object ofher visit. In her carriage, during the later hours of the day, abarrister's wife may drive down the Middle Temple Lane, or through thegate of Lincoln's Inn, and wait in King's Bench Walk or New Square, until her husband, putting aside clients and papers, joins her for thehomeward drive. But even thus placed, sitting in her carriage andguarded by servants, she usually prefers to fence off inquisitive eyesby a bonnet-veil, or the blinds of her carriage-windows. On Sunday, thewives and daughters of gentle families brighten the dingy passages ofthe Temple, and the sombre courts of Lincoln's Inn: for the musicalservices of the grand church and little chapel, are amongst thereligious entertainments of the town. To those choral celebrationsladies go, just as they are accustomed to enter any metropolitan church;and after service they can take a turn in the gardens of either Society, without drawing upon themselves unpleasant attention. So also, unattended by men, ladies are permitted to inspect the floralexhibitions with which Mr. Broome, the Temple gardener, annuallyentertains London sightseers. 

But, save on these and a few similar occasions and conditions, gentlewomen avoid an Inn of Court as they would a barrack-yard, unlessthey have secured the special attendance of at least one member of thesociety. The escort of a barrister or student, alters the case. Whatbarrister, young or old, cannot recall mirthful eyes that, with quickshyness, have turned away from his momentary notice, as in answer to therustling of silk, or stirred by sympathetic consciousness of women'snoiseless presence, he has raised his face from a volume of reports, andseen two or three timorous girls peering through the golden haze of aLondon morning, into the library of his Inn? What man, thus drawn awayfor thirty seconds from prosaic toil, has not in that half minuteremembered the faces of happy rural homes, --has not recalled old dayswhen his young pulses beat cordial welcome to similar intruders upon thestillness of the Bodleian, or the tranquil seclusion of Trinity library?What occupant of dreary chambers in the Temple, reading this page, cannot look back to a bright day, when young, beautiful, and pure assanctity, Lilian, or Kate, or Olive, entered his room radiant withsmiles, delicate in attire, and musical with gleesome gossip aboutcountry neighbors, and the life of a joyous home?

Seldom does a Templar of the present generation receive so fair andinnocent a visitor. To him the presence of a gentlewoman in his court, is an occasion for ingenious conjecture; encountered on his staircaseshe is a cause of lively astonishment. His guests are men, more or lessaddicted to tobacco; his business callers are solicitors and theirclerks; in his vestibule the masculine emissaries of tradesmen maysometimes be found--head-waiters from neighboring taverns, pot-boys fromthe 'Cock' and the 'Rainbow. ' A printer's devil may from time to timeknock at his door. But of women--such women as he would care to mentionto his mother and sisters--he sees literally nothing in his dusty, ill-ordered, but not comfortless rooms. He has a laundress, one of aclass on whom contemporary satire has been rather too severe. 

Feminine life of another sort lurks in the hidden places of the lawcolleges, shunning the gaze of strangers by daylight; and even when itcreeps about under cover of night, trembling with a sense of its ownincurable shame. But of this sad life, the bare thought of which sends ashivering through the frame of every man whom God has blessed with apeaceful home and wholesome associations, nothing shall be said in thispage. 

In past time the life of law-colleges was very different in thisrespect. When they ceased to be ecclesiastics, and fixed themselves inthe hospices which soon after the reception of the gowned tenants, werestyled Inns of Courts; our lawyers took unto themselves wives, who wereboth fair and discreet. And having so made women flesh of their fleshand bone of their bone, they brought them to homes within the immediatevicinity of their collegiate walls, and sometimes within the wallsthemselves. Those who would appreciate the life of the Inns in pastcenturies, and indeed in times within the memory of living men, shouldbear this in mind. When he was not on circuit, many a counsellor learnedin the law, found the pleasures not less than the business of hisexistence within the bounds of his 'honorable society. ' In the fullestsense of the words, he took his ease in his Inn; besides being hisworkshop, where clients flocked to him for advice, it was his club, hisplace of pastime, and the shrine of his domestic affections. In thisgeneration a successful Chancery barrister, or Equity draftsman, looksupon Lincoln's Inn merely as a place of business, where at a prodigiousrent he holds a set of rooms in which he labors over cases, andsatisfies the demands of clients and pupils. A century or two centuriessince the case was often widely different. The rising barrister broughthis bride in triumph to his 'chambers, ' and in them she received thefriends who hurried to congratulate her on her new honors. In thoserooms she dispensed graceful hospitality, and watched her husband'stoils. The elder of her children first saw the light in those narrowquarters; and frequently the lawyer, over his papers, was disturbed bythe uproar of his heir in an adjoining room. 

Young wives, the mistresses of roomy houses in the western quarters oftown, shudder as they imagine the discomforts which these young wives ofother days must have endured. "What! live in chambers?" they exclaimwith astonishment and horror, recalling the smallness and cheerlessaspect of their husbands' business chambers. But past usages must not behastily condemned, --allowance must be made for the fact that ourancestors set no very high price on the luxuries of elbow-room andbreathing-room. Families in opulent circumstances were wont to dwellhappily, and receive whole regiments of jovial visitors in little housesnigh the Strand and Fleet Street, Ludgate Hill and Cheapside;--houseshidden in narrow passages and sombre courts--houses, compared withwhich the lowliest residences in a "genteel suburb" of our own timewould appear capacious mansions. Moreover, it must be borne in mind thatthe married barrister, living a century since with his wife inchambers--either within or hard-by an Inn or Court--was, at acomparatively low rent, the occupant of far more ample quarters thanthose for which a working barrister now-a-days pays a preposterous sum. Such a man was tenant of a 'set of rooms' (several rooms, althoughcalled 'a chamber') which, under the present system, accommodates asmall colony of industrious 'juniors' with one office and a clerk's roomattached. Married ladies, who have lived in Paris or Vienna, in the 'oldtown' of Edinburgh, or Victoria Street, Westminster, need no assurancethat life 'on a flat' is not an altogether deplorable state ofexistence. The young couple in chambers had six rooms at theirdisposal, --a chamber for business, a parlor, not unfrequently adrawing-room, and a trim, compact little kitchen. Sometimes they had two'sets of rooms, ' one above another; in which case the young wife couldhave her bridesmaids to stay with her, or could offer a bed to a friendfrom the country. Occasionally during the last fifty years of the lastcentury, they were so fortunate as to get possession of a small detachedhouse, originally built by a nervous bencher, who disliked the sound offootsteps on the stairs outside his door. Time was when the Innscomprised numerous detached houses, some of them snug dwellings, andothers imposing mansions, wherein great dignitaries lived with properostentation. Most of them have bean pulled down, and their sites coveredwith collegiate 'buildings;' but a few of them still remain, the grandpiles having long since been partitioned off into chambers, and thelittle houses striking the eye as quaint, misplaced, insignificantblocks of human habitation. Under the trees of Gray's Inn gardens maybe seen two modest tenements, each of them comprising some six or eightrooms and a vestibule. At the present time they are occupied as officesby legal practitioners, and many a day has passed since womanly tastedecorated their windows with flowers and muslin curtains; but a certainvenerable gentleman, to whom the writer of this page is indebted formuch information about the lawyers of the last century, can rememberwhen each of those cottages was inhabited by a barrister, his youngwife, and three or four lovely children. Into some such a house nearLincoln's Inn, a young lawyer who was destined to hold the seals formany years, and be also the father of a Lord Chancellor, married in theyear of our Lord, 1718. His name was Philip Yorke: and though he was ofhumble birth, he had made such a figure in his profession that greatmen's doors, were open to him. He was asked to dinner by learned judges, and invited to balls by their ladies. In Chancery Lane, at the house ofSir Joseph Jekyll, Master of the Rolls, he met Mrs. Lygon, a beauteousand wealthy widow, whose father was a country squire, and whose motherwas the sister of the great Lord Somers. In fact, she was a lady of suchbirth, position, and jointure, that the young lawyer--rising man thoughhe was--seemed a poor match for her. The lady's family thought so; andif Sir Joseph Jekyll had not cordially supported the suitor with aletter of recommendation, her father would have rejected him as a mantoo humble in rank and fortune. Having won the lady and married her, Mr. Philip Yorke brought her home to a 'very small house' near Lincoln'sInn; and in that lowly dwelling, the ground-floor of which was thebarrister's office, they spent the first years of their wedded life. What would be said of the rising barrister who, now-a-days, on hismarriage with a rich squire's rich daughter and a peer's niece, shouldpropose to set up his household gods in a tiny crip just outsideLincoln's Inn gate, and to use the parlor of the 'very small house' forprofessional purposes? Far from being guilty of unseemly parsimony inthis arrangement, Philip Yorke paid proper consideration to his wife'ssocial advantages, in taking her to a separate house. His contemporariesamongst the junior bar would have felt no astonishment if he had fittedup a set of chambers for his wealthy and well-descended bride. Notmerely in his day, but for long years afterward, lawyers of gentle birthand comfortable means, who married women scarcely if at all inferior toMrs. Yorke in social condition, lived upon the flats of Lincoln's Innand the Temple. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE LAST OF THE LADIES. 

Whatever its drawbacks, the system which encouraged the young barristerto marry on a modest income, and make his wife 'happy in chambers, ' musthave had special advantages. In their Inn the husband was near everysource of diversion for which he greatly cared, and the wife wassurrounded by the friends of either sex in whose society she took mostpleasure--friends who, like herself, 'lived in the Inn, ' or in one ofthe immediately adjacent streets. In 'hall' he dined and drank wine withhis professional compeers and the wits of the bar: the 'library'supplied him not only with law books, but with poems and dramas, withmerry trifles written for the stage, and satires fresh from the Row;'the chapel'--or if he were a Templer, 'the church'--was his habitualplace of worship, where there were sittings for his wife and childrenas well as for himself; on the walks and under the shady trees of 'thegarden' he sauntered with his own, or, better still, a friend's wife, criticising the passers, describing the new comedy, or talking over thelast ball given by a judge's lady. At times those gardens were pervadedby the calm of collegiate seclusion, but on 'open days' they were briskwith life. The women and children of the legal colony walked in themdaily; the ladies attired in their newest fashions, and the childrenrunning with musical riot over lawns and paths. Nor were the groundsmere places of resort for lawyers and their families. Taking rankamongst the pleasant places of the metropolis, they attracted, on 'opendays, ' crowds from every quarter of the town--ladies and gallants fromSoho Square and St. James's Street, from Whitehall and Westminster;sightseers from the country and gorgeous alderwomic dowagers fromCheapside. From the days of Elizabeth till the middle, indeed till theclose, of the eighteenth century the ornamental grounds of the fourgreat Inns were places of fashionable promenade, where the rank andtalent and beauty of the town assembled for display and exercise, evenas in our own time they assemble (less universally) in Hyde Park andKensington Gardens. 

When ladies and children had withdrawn, the quietude of the gardenslured from their chambers scholars and poets, who under murmuringbranches pondered the results of past study, or planned new works. BenJonson was accustomed to saunter beneath the elms of Lincoln's Inn; andSteele--alike on 'open' and 'close' days--used to frequent the gardensof the same society. "I went, " he writes in May, 1809, "into Lincoln'sInn Walks, and having taking a round or two, I sat down, according tothe allowed familiarity of these places, on a bench. " In the followingNovember he alludes to the privilege that he enjoyed of walking thereas "a favor that is indulged me by several of the benchers, who are veryintimate friends, and grown in the neighborhood. "

But though on certain days, and under fixed regulations, the outsidepublic were admitted to the college gardens, the assemblages were alwayspervaded by the tone and humor of the law. The courtiers and grandladies from 'the west' felt themselves the guests of the lawyers; andthe humbler folk, who by special grant had acquired the privilege ofentry, or whose decent attire and aspect satisfied the janitors of theirrespectability, moved about with watchfulness and gravity, surveying thecounsellors and their ladies with admiring eyes, and extolling thebenchers whose benevolence permitted simple tradespeople to take the airside by side with 'the quality. ' In 1736, James Ralph, in his 'NewCritical Review of the Publick Buildings, ' wrote about the square andgardens of Lincoln's Inn in a manner which testifies to the respectfulgratitude of the public for the liberality which permitted all outwardlydecent persons to walk in the grounds. "I may safely add, " he says, "that no area anywhere is kept in better order, either for cleanlinessand beauty by day, or illumination by night; the fountain in the middleis a very pretty decoration, and if it was still kept playing, as it wassome years ago, 'twould preserve its name with more propriety. " In hisremarks on the chapel the guide observes, "The raising this chapel onpillars affords a pleasing, melancholy walk underneath, and by night, particularly, when illuminated by the lamps, it has an effect that maybe felt, but not described. " Of the gardens Mr. Ralph could not speak inhigh praise, for they were ill-arranged and not so carefully kept as thesquare; but he observes, "they are convenient; and considering theirsituation cannot be esteemed to much. There is something hospitable inlaying them open to public use; and while we share in their pleasures, we have no title to arraign their taste. "

The chief attraction of Lincoln's Inn gardens, apart from its beautifultrees, was for many years the terrace overlooking 'the Fields, ' whichwas made _temp. _ Car. II. At the cost of nearly £1000. Dugdale, speakingof the recent improvements of the Inn, says, "And the last was theenlargement of their garden, beautifying with a large tarras walk on thewest side thereof, and raising the wall higher towards Lincoln's InneFields, which was done in An. 1663 (15 Car. II. ), the charge thereofamounting to a little less than a thousand pounds, by reason that thelevelling of most part of the ground, and raising the tarras, requiredsuch great labor. " A portion of this terrace, and some of the old trees, were destroyed to make room for the new dining-hall. 

The old system supplied the barrister with other sources of recreation. Within a stone's throw of his residence was the hotel where his club hadits weekly meeting. Either in hall, or with his family, or at a tavernnear 'the courts, ' it was his use, until a comparatively recent date, todine in the middle of the day, and work again after the meal. Courts satafter dinner as well as before; and it was observable that counsellorsspoke far better when they were full of wine and venison than when theystated the case in the earlier part of the day. But in the evening thesystem told especially in the barrister's favor. All his many friendslying within a small circle, he had an abundance of congenial society. Brother-circuiteers came to his wife's drawing-room for tea and chat, coffee and cards. There was a substantial supper at half-past eight ornine for such guests (supper cooked in my lady's little kitchen, orsupplied by the 'Society's cook'); and the smoking dishes wereaccompanied by foaming tankards of ale or porter, and followed bysuperb and richly aromatic bowls of punch. On occasions when the learnedman worked hard and shut out visitors by sporting his oak, he enjoyedprivacy as unbroken and complete as that of any library in Kensington orTyburnia. If friends stayed away, and he wished for diversion, he couldrun into the chambers of old college-chums, or with his wife's graciouspermission could spend an hour at Chatelin's or Nando's, or any othercoffeehouse in vogue with members of his profession. During festiveseasons, when the judges' and leaders' ladies gave their grand balls, the young couple needed no carriage for visiting purposes. From Gray'sInn to the Temple they walked--if the weather was fine. When it rainedthey hailed a hackney-coach, or my lady was popped into a sedan andcarried by running bearers to the frolic of the hour. 

Of course the notes of the preceding paragraphs of this chapter are butsuggestions as to the mode in which the artistic reader must call up thelife of the old lawyers. Encouraging him to realize the manners andusages of several centuries, not of a single generation, they do notattempt to entertain the student with details. It is needless to saythat the young couple did not use hackney-coaches in times prior to theintroduction of those serviceable vehicles, and that until sedans wereinvented my lady never used them. 

It is possible, indeed it is certain, that married ladies living inchambers occasionally had for neighbors on the same staircase women whomthey regarded with abhorrence. Sometimes it happened that a dissolutebarrister introduced to his rooms a woman more beautiful than virtuous, whom he had not married, though he called her his wife. People can nomore choose their neighbors in a house broken up into sets of chambers, than they can choose them in the street. But the cases where ladieswere daily liable to meet an offensive neighbor on their commonstaircase were comparatively rare; and when the annoyance actuallyoccurred, the discipline of the Inn afforded a remedy. 

Uncleanness too often lurked within the camp, but it veiled its face;and though in rare cases the error and sin of a powerful lawyer may havebeen notorious, the preccant man was careful to surround himself withsuch an appearance of respectability that society should easily feignignorance of his offence. An Elizabethan distich--familiar to allbarristers, but too rudely worded for insertion in this page--informs usthat in the sixteenth century Gray's Inn had an unenviable notorietyamongst legal hospices for the shamelessness of its female inmates. Butthe pungent lines must be regarded as a satire aimed at certainexceptional members, rather than as a vivacious picture of the generaltone of morals in the society. Anyhow the fact that Gray's Inn[1] wasalone designated as a home for infamy--whilst the Inner Temple waspointed to as the hospice most popular with rich men, the Middle Templeas the society frequented by Templars of narrow means, and Lincoln's Innas the abode of gentlemen--is, of itself, a proof that the pervadingmanners of the last three institutions were outwardly decorous. Underthe least favorable circumstances, a barrister's wife living inchambers, within or near Lincoln's Inn, or the Temple, during CharlesII. 's reign, fared as well in this respect as she would have done hadFortune made her a lady-in-waiting at Whitehall. 

A good story is told of certain visits paid to William Murray's chambersat No. 5, King's Bench Walk Temple, in the year 1738. Born in 1705, Murray was still a young man when in 1738 he made his brilliant speechin behalf of Colonel Sloper, against whom Colley Cibber's rascally sonhad brought an action for _crim. Con. _ with his wife--the lovely actresswho was the rival of Mrs. Clive. Amongst the many clients who were drawnto Murray by that speech, Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, was neither theleast powerful nor the least distinguished. Her grace began by sendingthe rising advocate a general retainer, with a fee of a thousandguineas; of which sum he accepted only the two-hundredth part, explaining to the astonished duchess that "the professional fee, with ageneral retainer, could neither be less nor more than five guineas. " IfMurray had accepted the whole sum he would not have been overpaid forhis trouble; for her grace persecuted him with calls at mostunseasonable hours. On one occasion, returning to his chambers after"drinking champagne with the wits, " he found the duchess's carriage andattendants on King's Bench Walk. A numerous crowd of footmen andlink-bearers surrounded the coach; and when the barrister entered hischambers he encountered the mistress of that army of lackeys. "Youngman, " exclaimed the grand lady, eying the future Lord Mansfield with alook of warm displeasure, "if you mean to rise in the world, you mustnot sup out. " On a subsequent night Sarah of Marlborough called withoutappointment at the same chambers, and waited till past midnight in thehope that she would see the lawyer ere she went to bed. But Murray beingat an unusually late supper-party, did not return till her grace haddeparted in an over-powering rage. "I could not make out, sir, who shewas, " said Murray's clerk, describing her grace's appearance and manner, "for she would not tell me her name; _but she swore so dreadfully that Iam sure she must be a lady of quality_. "

Perhaps the Inns of Court may still shelter a few married ladies, whoeither from love of old-world ways, or from stern necessity, consent todwell in their husbands' chambers. If such ladies can at the presenttime be found, the writer of this page would look for them in Gray'sInn--that straggling caravansary for the reception of money-lenders, Bohemians, and eccentric gentlemen--rather than in the other three Innsof Court, which have undoubtedly quite lost their old population oflady-residents. But from those three hospices the last of the ladiesmust have retreated at a comparatively recent date. Fifteen years since, when the writer of this book was a beardless undergraduate, he had thehonor of knowing some married ladies, of good family and unblemishedrepute, who lived with their husbands in the Middle Temple. One of thoseladies--the daughter of a country magistrate, the sister of adistinguished classic scholar--was the wife of a common law barristerwho now holds a judicial appointment in one of our colonies. The womenof her old home circle occasionally called on this young wife: but asthey could not reach her quarters in Sycamore Court without attractingmuch unpleasant observation, their visits were not frequent. Living in abarrack of unwed men, that charming girl was surrounded by honestfellows who would have resented as an insult to themselves animpertinence offered to her. Still her life was abnormal, unnatural, deleterious; it was felt by all who cared for her that she ought not tobe where she was; and when an appointment with a good income in ahealthy and thriving colony was offered to her husband, all who knewher, and many who had never spoken to her, rejoiced at the intelligence. At the present time, in the far distant country which looks up to heras a personage of importance, this lady--not less exemplary as wife andmother than brilliant as a woman of society--takes pleasure in recallingthe days when she was a prisoner in the Temple. 

One of the last cases of married life in the Temple, that came beforethe public notice, was that of a barrister and his wife who incurredobloquy and punishment for their brutal conduct to a poor servant girl. No one would thank the writer for re-publishing the details of thatnauseous illustration of the degradation to which it is possible for agentleman and scholar to sink. But, however revolting, the case is notwithout interest for the reader who is curious about the social life ofthe Temple. 

The portion of the Temple in which the old-world family life of the Innsheld out the longest, is a clump of commodious houses lying between theMiddle Temple Garden and Essex Street, Strand. Having theirentrance-doors in Essex Street, these houses are, in fact, as private asthe residences of any London quarter. The noise of the Strand reachesthem, but their occupants are as secure from the impertinent gaze orunwelcome familiarities of law-students and barristers' clerks, as theywould be if they lived at St. John's Wood. In Essex Street, on theeastern side, the legal families maintained their ground almost tillyesterday. Fifteen years since the writer of this page used to beinvited to dinners and dances in that street--dinners and dances whichwere attended by prosperous gentlefolk from the West End of the town. Atthat time he often waltzed in a drawing-room, the windows of whichlooked upon the spray of the fountain--at which Ruth Pinch loved to gazewhen its jet resembled a wagoner's whip. How all old and precious thingspass away! The dear old 'wagoner's whip' has been replaced by a pert, perky squirt that will never stir the heart or brain of a future Ruth. 

[1] The scandalous state of Gray's Inn at this period is shown by thefollowing passage in Dugdale's 'Origines:'--"In 23 Eliz. (30 Jan. ) therewas an order made that no laundress, nor women called victuallers, should thenceforth come into the gentlemen's chambers of this society, until they were full forty years of age, and not send theirmaid-servants, of what age soever, in the said gentlemen's chambers, upon penalty, for the first offence of him that should admit of anysuch, to be put out of Commons: and for the second, to be expelled theHouse. " The stringency and severity of this order show a determinationon the part of the authorities to cure the evil. 

Chapter III. 

YORK HOUSE AND POWIS HOUSE. 

Whilst the great body of lawyers dwelt in or hard by the Inns, thedignitaries of the judicial bench, and the more eminent members of thebar, had suitable palaces or mansions at greater or less distances fromthe legal hostelries. The ecclesiastical Chancellors usually enjoyedepiscopal or archiepiscopal rank, and lived in the London palacesattached to their sees or provinces. During his tenure of the seals, Morton, Bishop of Ely, years before he succeeded to the archbishopric ofCanterbury, and received the honors of the Cardinalate, grewstrawberries in his garden on Holborn Hill, and lived in the palacesurrounded by that garden. As Archbishop of Canterbury, ChancellorWarham maintained at Lambeth Palace the imposing state commemorated byErasmus. 

When Wolsey made his first progress to the Court of Chancery inWestminster Hall, a progress already alluded to in these pages, hestarted from the archiepiscopal palace, York House or Place--an officialresidence sold by the cardinal to Henry VIII. Some years later; and whenthe same superb ecclesiastic, towards the close of his career, went onthe memorable embassy to France, he set out from his palace atWestminster, "passing through all London over London Bridge, havingbefore him of gentlemen a great number, three in rank in black velvetlivery coats, and the most of them with great chains of gold about theirnecks. "

At later dates Gardyner, whilst he held the seals, kept his numeroushousehold at Winchester House in Southwark; and Williams, the lastclerical Lord Keeper, lived at the Deanery, Westminster. 

The lay Chancellors also maintained costly and pompous establishments, apart from the Inns of Court. Sir Thomas More's house stood in thecountry, flanked by a garden and farm, in the cultivation of whichground the Chancellor found one of his chief sources of amusement. InAldgate, Lord Chancellor Audley built his town mansion, on the site ofthe Priory of the Canons of the Holy Trinity of Christ Church. Wriothesley dwelt in Holborn at the height of his unsteady fortunes, andat the time of his death. The infamous but singularly lucky Rich livedin Great St. Bartholomew's, and from his mansion there wrote to the Dukeof Northumberland, imploring that messengers might be sent to him torelieve him of the perilous trust of the Great Seal. Christopher Hattonwrested from the see of Ely the site of Holborn, whereon he built hismagnificent palace. The reluctance with which the Bishop of Elysurrendered the ground, and the imperious letter by which Elizabethcompelled the prelate to comply with the wish of her favorite courtier, form one of the humorous episodes of that queen's reign. Hatton Houserose over the soil which had yielded strawberries to Morton; and of thathouse--where the dancing Chancellor received Elizabeth as a visitor, andin which he died of "diabetes _and_ grief of mind"--the memory ispreserved by Hatton Garden, the name of the street where some of ourwealthiest jewelers and gold assayers have places of business. 

Public convenience had long suggested the expediency of establishing apermanent residence for the Chancellors of England, when either bysuccessive expressions of the royal will, or by the individual choice ofseveral successive holders of the _Clavis Regni_, a noble palace on thenorthern bank of the Thames came to be regarded as the proper domicilefor the Great Seal. York House, memorable as the birthplace of FrancisBacon, and the scene of his brightest social splendor, demands a briefnotice. Wolsey's 'York House' or Whitehall having passed from theprovince of York to the crown, Nicholas Heath, Archbishop of York, established himself in another York House on a site lying between theStrand and the river. In this palace (formerly leased to the see ofNorwich as a bishop's Inn, and subsequently conferred on Charles Brandonby Henry VIII. ) Heath resided during his Chancellorship; and when, inconsequence of his refusal to take the oath of supremacy, Elizabethdeprived him of his archbishopric, York House passed into the hands ofher new Lord Keeper, Sir Nicholas Bacon. On succeeding to the honors ofthe Marble Chair, Hatton did not move from Holborn to the Strand; butotherwise all the holders of the Great Seal, from Heath to Francis Baconinclusive, seem to have occupied York House; Heath, of course, using itby right as Archbishop of York, and the others holding it under leasesgranted by successive archbishops of the northern province. So little isknown of Bromley, apart from the course which he took towards Mary ofScotland, that the memory of old York House gains nothing of interestfrom him. Indeed it has been questioned whether he was one of itstenants. Puckering, Egerton, and Francis Bacon certainly inhabited it insuccession. On Bacon's fall it was granted to Buckingham, whose desireto possess the picturesque palace was one of the motives which impelledhim to blacken the great lawyer's reputation. Seized by the LongParliament, it was granted to Lord Fairfax. In the following generationit passed into the hands of the second Duke of Buckingham, who soldhouse and precinct for building-ground. The bad memory of the man whothus for gold surrendered a spot of earth sacred to every scholarlyEnglishman is preserved in the names of _George_ Street, _Duke_ Street, _Villiers_ Street, _Buckingham_ Street. 

The engravings commonly sold as pictures of the York House, in whichLord Bacon kept the seals, are likenesses of the building after it waspulled about, diminished, and modernized, and in no way whateverrepresent the architecture of the original edifice. Amongst theart-treasures of the University of Oxford, Mr. Hepworth Dixonfortunately found a rough sketch of the real house, from which sketchMr. E. M. Ward drew the vignette that embellishes the title-page of 'TheStory of Lord Bacon's Life. '

After the expulsion of the Great Seal from old York House, it wanderedfrom house to house, manifesting, however, in its selections of Londonquarters, a preference for the grand line of thoroughfare betweenCharing Cross and the foot of Ludgate Hill. Escaping from theWestminster Deanery, where Williams kept it in a box, the _Clavis Regni_inhabited Durham House, Strand, whilst under Lord Keeper Coventry'scare. Lord Keeper Littleton, until he made his famous ride from Londonto York, lived in Exeter House. Clarendon resided in Dorset House, Salisbury Court, Fleet Street, and subsequently in Worcester House, Strand, before he removed to the magnificent palace which aroused theindignation of the public in St. James's Street. The greater and happierpart of his official life was passed in Worcester House. There he heldcouncils in his bedroom when he was laid up with gout; there KingCharles visited him familiarly, even condescending to be present to thebedside councils; and there he was established when the Great Fire ofLondon caused him, in a panic, to send his most valuable furniture tohis Villa at Twickenham. Thanet House, Aldersgate Street, is theresidence with which Shaftesbury, the politician, is most generallyassociated; but whilst he was Lord Chancellor he occupied Exeter House, Strand, formerly the abode of Keeper Littleton. Lord Nottingham sleptwith the seals under his pillow in Great Queen Street, Lincoln's InnFields, the same street in which his successor, Lord Guildford, had theestablishment so racily described by his brother, Roger North. And LordJeffreys moving westward, gave noisy dinners in Duke Street, Westminster, where he opened a court-house that was afterwardsconsecrated as a place of worship, and is still known as the Duke StreetChapel. Says Pennant, describing the Chancellor's residence, "It iseasily known by a large flight of stone steps, which his royal masterpermitted to be made into the park adjacent for the accommodation of hislordship. These steps terminate above in a small court, on three sidesof which stands the house. " The steps still remain, but their history isunknown to many of the habitual frequenters of the chapel. AfterJefferys' fall the spacious and imposing mansion, where the_bon-vivants_ of the bar used to drink inordinately with the wits andbuffoons of the London theatres, was occupied by Government; and therethe Lords of the Admiralty had their offices until they moved to theirquarters opposite Scotland Yard. Narcissus Luttrell's Diary contains thefollowing entry:--"April 23, 1690. The late Lord Chancellor's house atWestminster is taken for the Lords of the Admiralty to keep theAdmiralty Office at. "

William III. , wishing to fix the holders of the Great Seal in apermanent official home, selected Powis House (more generally known bythe name of Newcastle House), in Lincoln's Inn Fields, as a residencefor Somers and future Chancellors. The Treasury minute books preserve anentry of September 11, 1696, directing a Privy Seal to "discharge theprocess for the apprised value of the house, and to declare the king'spleasure that the Lord Keeper or Lord Chancellor for the time beingshould have and enjoy it for the accommodation of their offices. " Soonafter his appointment to the seals, Somers took possession of thismansion at the north-west corner of the Fields; and after him LordKeeper Sir Nathan Wright, Lord Chancellor Cowper, and Lord ChancellorHarcourt used it as an official residence. But the arrangement was notacceptable to the legal dignitaries. They preferred to dwell in theirprivate houses, from which they were not liable to be driven by a changeof ministry or a grist of popular disfavor. In the year 1711 the mansionwas therefore sold to John Holles, Duke of Newcastle, to whom it isindebted for the name which it still bears. This large, unsightlymansion is known to every one who lives in London, and has any knowledgeof the political and social life of the earlier Georgian courtiers andstatesmen. 

CHAPTER IV. 

LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS. 

The annals of the legal profession show that the neighborhood ofGuildhall was a favorite place of residence with the ancient lawyers, who either held judicial offices within the circle of the Lord Mayor'sjurisdiction, or whose practice lay chiefly in the civic courts. In thefifteenth and sixteenth centuries there was quite a colony of juristshard by the temple of Gogmagog and Cosineus--or Gog and Magog, as thegrotesque giants are designated by the unlearned, who know not thehistory of the two famous effigies, which originally figured in anElizabethan pageant, stirring the wonder of the illiterate, andreminding scholars of two mythical heroes about whom the curious readerof this paragraph may learn further particulars by referring to MichaelDrayton's 'Polyolbion. '

In Milk Street, Cheapside, lived Sir John More, judge in the Court ofKing's Bench; and in Milk street, A. D. 1480, was born Sir John's famousson Thomas, the Chancellor, who was at the same time learned and simple, witty and pious, notable for gentle meekness and firm resolve, aboundingwith tenderness and hot with courage. Richard Rich--who beyond Scroggsor Jeffreys deserves to be remembered as the arch-scoundrel of the legalprofession--was one of Thomas More's playmates and boon companions forseveral years of their boyhood and youth. Richard's father was anopulent mercer, and one of Sir John's near neighbors; so the youngsterswere intimate until Master Dick, exhibiting at an early age his viciouspropensities, came to be "esteemed very light of his tongue, a greatdicer and gamester, and not of any commendable fame. "

On marrying his first wife Sir Thomas More settled in a house inBucklersbury, the City being the proper quarter for his residence, as hewas an under-sheriff of the city of London, in which character he bothsat in the Court of the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs, and presided over aseparate court on the Thursday of each week. Whilst living inBucklersbury he had chambers in Lincoln's Inn. On leaving Bucklersburyhe took a house in Crosby Place, from which he moved, in 1523, toChelsea, in which parish he built the house that was eventually pulleddown by Sir Hans Sloane in the year 1740. 

A generation later, Sir Nicholas Bacon was living in Noble Street, Foster Lane, where he had built the mansion known as Bacon House, inwhich he resided till, as Lord Keeper, he took possession of York House. Chief Justice Bramston lived, at different parts of his career, inWhitechapel; in Philip Lane, Aldermanbury; and (after his removal fromBosworth Court) in Warwick Lane, Sir John Bramston (the autobiographer)married into a house in Charterhouse Yard, where his father, the ChiefJustice, resided with him for a short time. 

But from an early date, and especially during the seventeenth andeighteenth centuries, the more prosperous of the working lawyers eitherlived within the walls of the Inns, or in houses lying near the lawcolleges. Fleet Street, the Strand, Holborn, Chancery Lane, and the goodstreets leading into those thoroughfares, contained a numerous legalpopulation in the times between Elizabeth's death and George III. 'sfirst illness. Rich benchers and Judges wishing for more commodiousquarters than they could obtain at any cost within college-walls, erected mansions in the immediate vicinity of their Inns; and theirexample was followed by less exalted and less opulent members of the barand judicial bench. The great Lord Strafford first saw the light inChancery Lane, in the house of his maternal grandfather, who was abencher of Lincoln's Inn. Lincoln's Inn Fields was principally built forthe accommodation of wealthy lawyers; and in Charles II. 's reign QueenStreet, Lincoln's Inn Fields was in high repute with legal magnates. SirEdward Coke lived alternately in chambers, and in Hatton House, Holborn, the palace that came to him by his second marriage. John Kelyng's housestood in Hatton Garden, and there he died in 1671. In his mansion inLincoln's Inn Fields, Sir Harbottle Grimston, on June 25, 1660 (shortlybefore his appointment to the Mastership of the Rolls, for which placehe is said to have given Clarendon £8000), entertained Charles II. And agrand gathering of noble company. After his marriage Francis North tookhis high-born bride into chambers, which they inhabited for a short timeuntil a house in Chancery Lane, near Serjeants' Inn, was ready fortheir use. On Nov. 15, 1666, --the year of the fire of London, in whichyear Hyde had his town house in the Strand--Glyn died in his house, inPortugal Row, Lincoln's Inn Fields. On June 15, 1691, Henry Pollexfen, Chief Justice of Common Pleas, expired in his mansion in Lincoln's InnFields. These addresses--taken from a list of legal addresses lyingbefore the writer--indicate with sufficient clearness the quarter of thetown in which Charles II. 's lawyers mostly resided. 

Under Charles II. The population of the Inns was such that barristerswishing to marry could not easily obtain commodious quarters withinCollege-walls. Dugdale observes "that all but the benchers go two to achamber: a bencher hath only the privilege of a chamber to himself. " Headds--"if there be any one chamber consisting of two parts, and the onepart exceeds the other in value, and he who hath the best part sells thesame, yet the purchaser shall enter into the worst part; for it is acertain rule that the auntient in the chamber--_viz. _, he who wastherein first admitted, without respect to their antiquity in the house, hath his choice of either part. " This custom of sharing chambers gaverise to the word 'chumming, ' an abbreviation of 'chambering. ' Barristersin the present time often share a chamber--_i. E. _, set of rooms. In theseventeenth century an utter-barrister found the half of a set of roomsinconveniently narrow quarters for himself and wife. By arrangingprivately with a non-resident brother of the long robe, he sometimesobtained an entire "chamber, " and had the space allotted to a bencher. When he could not make such an arrangement, he usually moved to a houseoutside the gate, but in the immediate vicinity of his inn, as soon ashis lady presented him with children, if not sooner. 

Of course working, as well as idle, members of the profession were foundin other quarters. Some still lived in the City; others preferred morefashionable districts. Roger North, brother of the Lord Keeper and sonof a peer, lived in the Piazza of Covent Garden, in the house formerlyoccupied Lely the painter. To this house Sir Dudley North moved from hiscostly and dark mansion in the City, and in it he shortly afterwardsdied, under the hands of Dr. Radcliffe and the prosperous apothecary, Mr. St. Amand. "He had removed, " writes Roger, "from his great house inthe City, and came to that in the Piazza which Sir Peter Lely formerlyused, and I had lived in alone for divers years. We were so muchtogether, and my incumbrances so small, that so large a house might holdus both. " Roger was a practicing barrister and Recorder of Bristol. 

During his latter years Sir John Bramston (the autobiographer) kepthouse in Greek Street, Soho. 

In the time of Charles II. The wealthy lawyers often maintained suburbanvillas, where they enjoyed the air and pastimes of the country. When hiswife's health failed, Francis North took a villa for her at Hammersmith, "for the advantage of better air, which he thought beneficial for her;"and whilst his household tarried there, he never slept at his chambersin town, "but always went home to his family, and was seldom an eveningwithout company agreeable to him. " In his latter years, Chief JusticePemberton had a rural mansion in Highgate, where his death occurred onJune 10, 1699, in the 74th year of his age. A pleasant chapter might bewritten on the suburban seats of our great lawyers from the Restorationdown to the present time. Lord Mansfield's 'Kenwood' is dear to all whoare curious in legal _ana_. Charles Yorke had a villa at Highgate, wherehe entertained his political and personal friends. Holland, thearchitect, built a villa at Dulwich for Lord Thurlow; and in consequenceof a quarrel between the Chancellor and the builder, the former tooksuch a dislike to the house, that after its completion he never slept anight in it, though he often passed his holidays in a small lodgestanding in the grounds of the villa. "Lord Thurlow, " asked a lady ofhim, as he was leaving the Queen's Drawing-room, "when are you goinginto your new house?" "Madam, " answered the surly Chancellor, incensedby her curiosity, "the Queen has asked me that impudent question, and Iwould not answer her; I will not tell you. " For years Loughborough andErskine had houses in Hampstead. "In Lord Mansfield's time, " Erskineonce said to Lord Campbell, "although the King's Bench monopolized allthe common-law business, the court often rose at one or two o'clock--thepapers, special, crown, and peremptory, being cleared; and then Irefreshed myself by a drive to my villa at Hampstead. " It was onHampstead Heath that Loughborough, meeting Erskine in the dusk, said, "Erskine, you must not take Paine's brief;" and received the promptreply, "But I have been retained, and I will take it, by G-d!" Much ofthat which is most pleasant in Erskine's career occurred at hisHampstead villa. Of Lord Kenyon's weekly trips from his mansion inLincoln's Inn Fields to his farm-house at Richmond notice has been takenin a previous chapter. The memory of Charles Abbott's Hendon villa ispreserved in the name, style, and title of Lord Tenterden, of Hendon, inthe county of Middlesex. Indeed, lawyers have for many generationsmanifested much fondness for fresh air; the impure atmosphere of theircourts in past time apparently whetting their appetites for wholesomebreezes. 

Throughout the eighteenth century Lincoln's Inn Fields, an open thoughdisorderly spot, was a great place for the residence of legal magnates. Somers, Nathan Wright, Cowper, Harcourt, successively inhabited PowisHouse. Chief Justice Parker (subsequently Lord Chancellor Macclesfield)lived there when he engaged Philip Yorke (then an attorney's articledclerk, but afterwards Lord Chancellor of England) to be his son's lawtutor. On the south side of the square, Lord Chancellor Henley kept highstate in the family mansion that descended to him on the death of hiselder brother, and subsequently passed into the hands of the Surgeons, whose modest but convenient college stands upon its site. Wedderburn andErskine had their mansions in Lincoln's Inn Fields, as well as theirsuburban villas. And between the lawyers of the Restoration and thejudges of George III. 's reign, a large proportion of our most eminentjurists and advocates lived in that square and the adjoining streets;such as Queen Street on the west, Serle Street, Carey Street, PortugalStreet, Chancery Lane, on the south and south-east. The reader, let itbe observed, may not infer that this quarter was confined to legalresidents. The lawyers were the most conspicuous and influentialoccupants; but they had for neighbors people of higher quality, who, attracted to the square by its openness, or the convenience of its site, or the proximity of the law colleges, made it their place of abode inLondon. Such names as those of the Earl of Lindsey and the Earl ofSandwich in the seventeenth, and of the Duke of Ancaster and the Duke ofNewcastle in the eighteenth century, establish the patrician characterof the quarter for many years. Moreover, from the books of popularantiquaries, a long list might be made of wits, men of science, andminor celebrities, who, though in no way personally connected with thelaw, lived during the same period under the shadow of Lincoln's Inn. 

Whilst Lincoln's Inn Fields took rank amongst the most aristocraticquarters of the town, it was as disorderly a square as could be found inall London. Royal suggestions, the labors of a learned committeeespecially appointed by James I. To decide on a proper system ofarchitecture, and Inigo Jones's magnificent but abortive scheme had buta poor result. In Queen Anne's reign, and for twenty years later, theopen space of the fields was daily crowded with beggars, mountebanks, and noisy rabble; and it was the scene of constant uproar and frequentriots. As soon as a nobleman's coach drew up before one of thesurrounding mansions, a mob of half-naked rascals swarmed about theequipage, asking for alms in alternate tones of entreaty and menace. Pugilistic encounters, and fights resembling the faction fights of anIrish row, were of daily occurrence there; and when the rabble decidedon torturing a bull with dogs, the wretched beast was tied to a stake inthe centre of the wide area, and there baited in the presence of aferocious multitude, and to the diversion of fashionable ladies, whowatched the scene from their drawing-room windows. The Sacheverelloutrage was wildest in this chosen quarter of noblemen and blackguards;and in George II. 's reign, when Sir Joseph Jekyll, the Master of theRolls, made himself odious to the lowest class by his Act for laying anexcise upon gin, a mob assailed him in the middle of the fields, threwhim to the ground, kicked him over and over, and savagely trampled uponhim. It was a marvel that he escaped with his life; but withcharacteristic good humor, he soon made a joke of his ill-usage, sayingthat until the mob made him their football he had never been master of_all_ the _rolls_. Soon after this outbreak of popular violence, theinhabitants enclosed the middle of the area with palisades, and turnedthe enclosure into an ornamental garden. Describing the Fields in 1736, the year in which the obnoxious Act concerning gin became law, JamesRalph says, "Several of the original houses still remain, to be areproach to the rest; and I wish the disadvantageous comparison hadbeen a warning to others to have avoided a like mistake. . . . But this isnot the only quarrel I have to Lincoln's Inn Fields. The area is capableof the highest improvement, might be made a credit to the whole city, and do honor to those who live round it; whereas at present no place canbe more contemptible or forbidding; in short, it serves only as anursery for beggars and thieves, and is a daily reflection on those whosuffer it to be in its abandoned condition. "

During the eighteenth century, a tendency to establish themselves in thewestern portion of the town was discernible amongst the great law lords. For instance, Lord Cowper, who during his tenure of the seals resided inPowis House, during his latter years occupied a mansion in Great GeorgeStreet, Westminster--once a most fashionable locality, but now a streetalmost entirely given up to civil engineers, who have offices there, butusually live elsewhere. In like manner, Lord Harcourt, moving westwardsfrom Lincoln's Inn Fields, established himself in Cavendish Square. LordHenley, on retiring from the family mansion in Lincoln's Inn Fields, settled in Grosvenor Square. Lord Camden lived in Hill Street, BerkeleySquare. On being entrusted with the sole custody of the seals, LordApsley (better known as Lord Chancellor Bathurst) made his firststate-progress to Westminster Hall from his house in Dean Street, Soho;but afterwards moving farther west, he built Apsley House (familiar toevery Englishman as the late Duke of Wellington's town mansion) upon thesite of Squire Western's favorite inn--the 'Hercules' Pillars. '

CHAPTER V. 

THE OLD LAW QUARTER. 

Fifteen years since the writer of this page used to dine with aconveyancer--a lawyer of an old and almost obsolete school--who had anumerous household, and kept a hospitable table in Lincoln's Inn Fields;but the conveyancer was almost the last of his species. The householdinglegal _resident_ of the Fields, like the domestic resident of theTemple, has become a feature of the past. Among the ordinary nocturnalpopulation of the square called Lincoln's Inn Fields, may be found a fewsolicitors who sleep by night where they work by day, and a sprinklingof young barristers and law students who have residential chambers ingrand houses that less than a century since were tenanted by members ofa proud and splendid aristocracy; but the gentle families have by thistime altogether disappeared from the mansions. 

But long before this aristocratic secession, the lawyers took possessionof a new quarter. The great charm of Lincoln's Inn Fields had been thefreshness of the air which played over the open space. So also therecommendation of Great Queen Street had been the purity of its ruralatmosphere. Built between 1630 and 1730, that thoroughfare--at presenthemmed in by fetid courts and narrow passages--caught the keen breezesof Hampstead, and long maintained a character for salubrity as well asfashion. Of those fine squares and imposing streets which lie betweenHigh Holborn and Hampstead, not a stone had been laid when the groundcovered by the present Freemason's Tavern was one of the most desirablesites of the metropolis. Indeed, the houses between Holborn and GreatQueen Street were not erected till the mansions on the south side ofthe latter thoroughfare--built long before the northern side--had foryears commanded an unbroken view of Holborn Fields. Notwithstanding manygloomy predictions of the evils that would necessarily follow fromover-building, London steadily increased, and enterprising architectsdeprived Lincoln's Inn Fields and Great Queen Street of their ruralqualities. Crossing Holborn, the lawyers settled on a virgin plainbeyond the ugly houses which had sprung up on the north of Great QueenStreet, and on the country side of Holborn. Speedily a new quarterarose, extending from Gray's Inn on the east to Southampton Row on theWest, and lying between Holborn and the line of Ormond Street, Red LionStreet, Bedford Row, Great Ormond Street, Little Ormond Street, GreatJames Street, and Little James Street were amongst its bestthoroughfares; in its centre was Red Lion Square, and in itsnorthwestern corner lay Queen's Square. Steadily enlarging itsboundaries, it comprised at later dates Guildford Street, John's Street, Doughty Street, Mecklenburgh Square, Brunswick Square, BloomsburySquare, Russell Square, Bedford Square--indeed, all the region lyingbetween Gray's Inn Lane (on the east), Tottenham Court Road (on thewest), Holborn (on the south), and a line running along the north of theFoundling Hospital and 'the squares. ' Of course this large residentialdistrict was more than the lawyers required for themselves. It becameand long remained a favorite quarter with merchants, physicians, [2] andsurgeons; and until a recent date it comprised the mansions of manyleading members of the aristocracy. But from its first commencement itwas so intimately associated with the legal profession that it was oftencalled the 'law quarter;' and the writer of this page has often heardelderly ladies and gentlemen speak of it as the 'old law quarter. '

Although lawyers were the earliest householders in this new quarter, itschief architect encountered at first strong opposition from a section ofthe legal profession. Anxious to preserve the rural character of theirneighborhood, the gentlemen of Gray's Inn were greatly displeased withthe proposal to lay out Holborn Fields in streets and squares. Underdate June 10, 1684, Narcissus Luttrell wrote in his diary--"Dr. Barebone, the great builder, having some time since bought the Red LyonFields, near Graie's Inn walks, to build on, and having for that purposeemployed severall workmen to goe on with the same, the gentlemen ofGraie's Inn took notice of it, and, thinking it an injury to them, wentwith a considerable body of 100 persons; upon which the workmenassaulted the gentlemen, and flung bricks at them, and the gentlemen atthem again. So a sharp engagement ensued, but the gentlemen routed themat last, and brought away one or two of the workmen to Graie's Inn; inthis skirmish one or two of the gentlemen and servants of the house werehurt, and severall of the workmen. "

James Ralph's remarks on the principal localities of this district areinteresting. "Bedford Row, " he says, "is one of the most noble streetsthat London has to boast of, and yet there is not one house in it whichdeserves the least attention. " He tells us that "Ormond Street isanother place of pleasure, and that side of it next the Fields is, beyond question, one of the most charming situations about town. " This'place of pleasure' is now given up for the most part to hospitals andother charitable institutions, and to lodging-houses of an inferiorsort. Passing on to Bloomsbury Square, and speaking of the Duke ofBedford's residence, which stood on the North side of the square, hesays, "Then behind it has the advantage of most agreeable gardens, and aview of the country, which would make a retreat from the town almostunnecessary, besides the opportunity of exhibiting another prospect ofthe building, which would enrich the landscape and challenge newapprobation. " This was written in 1736. At that time the years of twogenerations were appointed to pass away ere the removal of Bedford Houseshould make way for Lower Bedford Place, leading into Russell Square. 

So late as the opening years of George III. 's reign, Queen's Squareenjoyed an unbroken prospect in the direction of Highgate and Hampstead. 'The Foreigner's Guide: or a Necessary and Instructive Companion both tothe Foreigner and Native, in their Tours through the Cities of Londonand Westminster' (1763), contains the following passage:--"Queen'sSquare, which is pleasantly situated at the extreme part of the town, has a fine open view of the country, and is handsomely built, as arelikewise the neighboring streets--viz. , Southampton Row, Ormond Street, &c. In this last is Powis House, so named from the Marquis of Powis, whobuilt the present stately structure in the year 1713. It is now the townresidence of the Earl of Hardwicke, late Lord Chancellor. Theapartments are noble, and the whole edifice is commendable for itssituation, and the fine prospect of the country. Not far from thence isBloomsbury Square. This square is commendable for its situation andlargeness. On the North side is the house of the Duke of Bedford. Thisbuilding was erected from a design of Inigo Jones, and is very elegantand spacious. " From the duke's house in Bloomsbury Square and hissurrounding property, the political party, of which he was the Chief, obtained the nickname of the Bloomsbury Gang. 

Chief Justice Holt died March 5, 1710, at his house[3] in Bedford Row. In Red Lion Square Chief Justice Raymond had the town mansion wherein hedied on April 15, 1733; twelve years after Sir John Pratt, Lord Camden'sfather, died at his house in Ormond Street. On December 15, 1761, ChiefJustice Willes died at his house in Bloomsbury Square. Chagrin atmissing the seals through his own arrogance, when they had been actuallyoffered to him, was supposed to be a principal cause of the ChiefJustice's death. His friends represented that he died of a broken heart;to which assertion flippant enemies responded that no man ever had aheart after living seventy-four years. Murray for many years inhabited ahandsome house in Lincoln's Inn Fields; but his name is more generallyassociated with Bloomsbury Square, where stood the house which wassacked and burnt by the Gordon rioters. In Bloomsbury Square ourgrandfathers used to lounge, watching the house of Edward Law, subsequently Lord Ellenborough, in the hope of seeing Mrs. Law, as shewatered the flowers of her balcony. Mrs. Law's maiden name was Towry, and, as a beauty, she remained for years the rage of London. Even atthis date there remain a few aged gentlemen whose eyes sparkle and whosechecks flush when they recall the charms of the lovely creature whobecame the wife of ungainly Edward Law, after refusing him on threeseparate occasions. 

On becoming Lord Ellenborough and Chief Justice, Edward Law moved to agreat mansion in St. James's Square, the size of which he described to afriend by saying: "Sir, if you let off a piece of ordnance in the hall, the report is not heard in the bedrooms. " In this house the ChiefJustice expired, on December 13, 1818. Speaking of Lord Ellenborough'sresidence in St. James's Square, Lord Campbell says: "This was the firstinstance of a common law judge moving to the 'West End. ' Hitherto allthe common law judges had lived within a radius of half a mile fromLincoln's Inn; but they are now spread over the Regent's Park, Hyde ParkGardens, and Kensington Gore. "

Lord Harwicke and Lord Thurlow have been more than once mentioned asinhabitants of Ormond Street. 

Eldon's residences may be noticed with advantage in this place. Onleaving Oxford and settling in London, he took a small house for himselfand Mrs. Scott in Cursitor Street, Chancery Lane. About this dwelling hewrote to his brother Henry:--"I have got a house barely sufficient tohold my small family, which (so great is the demand for them here) will, in rent and taxes, cost me annually six pounds. " To this house he usedto point in the days of his prosperity, and, in allusion to the povertywhich he never experienced, he would add, "There was my first perch. Many a time have I run down from Cursitor Street to Fleet Market andbought sixpenn'orth of sprats for our supper. " After leaving CursitorStreet, he lived in Carey Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, where also, inhis later years, he believed himself to have endured such want of moneythat he and his wife were glad to fill themselves with sprats. When hefixed this anecdote upon Carey Street, the old Chancellor used torepresent himself as buying the sprats in Clare Market instead of FleetMarket. After some successful years he moved his household from thevicinity of Lincoln's Inn, and took a house in the law quarter, selecting one of the roomy houses (No. 42) of Gower Street, where helived when as Attorney General he conducted the futile prosecutions ofHardy, Horne Tooke, and Thelwall, in 1794. 

On quitting Gower Street, Eldon took the house in Bedford Square, whichwitnessed so many strange scenes during his tenure of the seals, andalso during his brief exclusion from office. In Bedford Square he playedthe part of chivalric protector to the Princess of Wales, and chuckledover the proof-sheets of that mysterious 'book' by the publication ofwhich the injured wife and the lawyer hoped to take vengeance on theircommon enemy. There the Chancellor, feeling it well to protract hisflirtation with the Princess of Wales, entertained her in the June of1808, with a grand banquet, from which Lady Eldon was compelled byindisposition to be absent. And there, four years later, when he wassatisfied that her Royal Highness's good opinion could be of no serviceto him, the crafty, self-seeking minister gave a still more splendiddinner to the husband whose vices he had professed to abhor, whosemeanness of spirit he had declared the object of his contempt. "However, " writes Lord Campbell, with much satiric humor, describingthis alliance between the selfish voluptuary and the equally selfishlawyer, "he was much comforted by having the honor, at the prorogation, of entertaining at dinner his Royal Highness the Regent, with whom hewas now a special favorite, and who, enjoying the splendid hospitalityof Bedford Square, forgot that the Princess of Wales had sat in the sameroom; at the same table; on the same chair; had drunk of the same wine;out of the same cup; while the conversation had turned on her barbaroususage, and the best means of publishing to the world _her_ wrongs and_his_ misconduct. "

Another of the Prince Regent's visits to Bedford Square is surroundedwith comic circumstances and associations. In the April of 1815, amastership of chancery became vacant by the death of Mr. Morris; andforthwith the Chancellor was assailed with entreaties from everydirection for the vacant post. For two months Eldon, pursuing thatpolicy of which he was a consummate master, delayed to appoint; buton June 23, he disgusted the bar and shocked the more intelligentsection of London society, by conferring the post on Jekyll, thecourtly _bon vivant_ and witty descendant of Sir Joseph Jekyll, Masterof the Rolls. Amiable, popular, and brilliant, Jekyll received thecongratulations of his numerous personal friends; but beyond thecircle of his private acquaintance the appointment created livelydissatisfaction--dissatisfaction which was heightened rather thandiminished by the knowledge that the placeman's good fortune wasentirely due to the personal importunity of the Prince Regent, whocalled at the Chancellor's house, and having forced his way into thebedroom, to which Eldon was confined by an attack of gout, refusedto take his departure without a promise that his friend should havethe vacant place. How this royal influence was applied to theChancellor, is told in the 'Anecdote Book. '

Fortunately Jekyll was less incompetent for the post than his enemieshad declared, and his friends admitted. He proved a respectable master, and held his post until age and sickness compelled him to resign it;and then, sustained in spirits by the usual retiring pension, hesauntered on right mirthfully into the valley of the shadow of death. Onthe day after his retirement, the jocose veteran, meeting Eldon in thestreet, observed:--"Yesterday, Lord Chancellor, I was your master;to-day I am my own. "

From Bedford Square, Lord Eldon, for once following the fashion, movedto Hamilton Place, Piccadilly. With the purpose of annoying him the'Queen's friends, ' during the height of the 'Queen Caroline agitation, 'proposed to buy the house adjoining the Chancellor's residence inHamilton Place, and to fit it up for the habitation of that notaltogether meritorious lady. Such an arrangement would have been anhumiliating as well as exasperating insult to a lawyer who, as long asthe excitement about the poor woman lasted, would have been liable toaffront whenever he left his house or looked through the windows facingHamilton Place. The same mob that delighted in hallooing round whateverhouse the Queen honored with her presence, would have varied their'hurrahs' for the lady with groans for the lawyer who, after making herwrongs the stalking-horse of his ambition, had become one of her chiefoppressors. Eldon determined to leave Hamilton Place on the day whichshould see the Queen enter it; and hearing that the Lords of theTreasury were about to assist her with money for the purchase of thehouse, he wrote to Lord Liverpool, protesting against an arrangementwhich would subject him to annoyance at home and to ridicule out ofdoors. "I should, " he wrote, "be very unwilling to state anythingoffensively, but I cannot but express my confidence that Government willnot aid a project which must remove the Chancellor from his house thenext hour that it takes effect, and from his office at the same time. "This decided attitude caused the Government to withdraw theircountenance from the project; whereupon a public subscription was openedfor its accomplishment. Sufficient funds were immediately proffered; andthe owner of the mansion had verbally made terms with the patriots, whenthe Chancellor, outbidding them, bought the house himself. "I had noother means, " he wrote to his daughter, "of preventing the destructionof my present house as a place in which I could live, or which anybodyelse would take. The purchase-money is large, but I have already hadsuch offers, that I shall not, I think, lose by it. "

Russell Square--where Lord Loughborough (who knows aught of the Earl ofRosslyn?) had his town house, after leaving Lincoln's Inn Fields, andwhere Charles Abbott (Lord Tenterden) established himself on leaving thehouse in Queen Square, into which he married during the summer of1795--maintained a quasi-fashionable repute much later than the olderand therefore more interesting parts of the 'old law quarter. ' TheodoreHook's disdain for Bloomsbury is not rightly appreciated by those whofail to bear in mind that the Russell Square of Hook's time was tenantedby people who--though they were unknown to 'fashion, ' in the sense givento the word by men of Brummel's habit and tone--had undeniable statusamongst the aristocracy and gentry of England. With some justice thewitty writer has been charged with snobbish vulgarity because heridiculed humble Bloomsbury for being humble. His best defence is foundin the fact that his extravagant scorn was not directed at helpless andaltogether obscure persons so much as at an educated and well-born classwho laughed at his caricatures, and gave dinners at which he was proudto be present. Though it fails to clear the novelist of the specialcharge, this apology has a certain amount of truth; and in so far as itpalliates some of his offences against good taste and gentle feeling, byall means let him have the full benefit of it. Criticism can afford tobe charitable to the clever, worthless man, now that no one admires ortries to respect him. Again, it may be advanced, in Hook's behalf, thatpolitical animosity--a less despicable, though not less hurtful passionthan love of gentility--contributed to Hook's dislike of the quarter onthe north side of Holborn. As a humorist he ridiculed, as a panderer tofashionable prejudices he sneered at, Bloomsbury; but as a tory hecherished a genuine antagonism to the district of town that wasassociated in the public mind with the wealth and ascendency of thehouse of Bedford. Anyhow, the Russell Square neighborhood--although itwas no longer fashionable, as Belgravia and Mayfair are fashionable atthe present day--remained the locality of many important families, atthe time when Mr. Theodore Hook was pleased to assume that no one abovethe condition of a rich tradesman or second-rate attorney lived in it. Of the lawyers whose names are mournfully associated with the squareitself are Sir Samuel Romilly and Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd. In 1818, theyear of his destruction by his own hand, Sir Samuel Romilly lived there;and Talfourd had a house on the east side of the square up to the timeof his lamented death in 1854. 

That Theodore Hook's ridicule of Bloomsbury greatly lessened for a timethe value of its houses there is abundant evidence. When he deluged thedistrict with scornful satire, his voice was a social power, to which aconsiderable number of honest people paid servile respect. His cleverwords were repeated; and Bloomsbury having become a popular by-word forcontempt, aristocratic families ceased to live, and were reluctant toinvest money, in its well-built mansions. But Hook only accelerated amovement which had for years been steadily though silently makingprogress. Erskine knew Red Lion Square when every house was occupied bya lawyer of wealth and eminence, if not of titular rank; but before hequitted the stage, barristers had relinquished the ground in favor ofopulent shopkeepers. When an ironmonger became the occupant of a housein Red Lion Square on the removal of a distinguished counsel, Erskinewrote the epigram--

 "This house, where once a lawyer dwelt, Is now a smith's, --alas! How rapidly the iron age Succeeds the age of brass. "

These lines point to a minor change in the social arrangements ofLondon, which began with the century, and was still in progress whenErskine had for years been mouldering in his grave. In 1823, the year ofErskine's death, Chief Baron Richards expired in his town house, inGreat Ormond Street. In the July of the following year BaronWood--_i. E. _, George Wood, the famous special pleader--died at his housein Bedford Square, about seventeen months after his resignation of hisseat in the Court of Exchequer to John Hullock. 

At the present time the legal fraternity has deserted Bloomsbury. Thelast of the Judges to depart was Chief Baron Pollock, who sold his greathouse in Queen Square at a quite recent date. With the disappearance ofthis venerable and universally respected judge, the legal history of theneighborhood may be said to have closed. Some wealthy solicitors stilllive in Russell Square and the adjoining streets; a few old-fashionedbarristers still linger in Upper Bedford Place and Lower Bedford Place. Guilford Street and Doughty Street, and the adjacent thoroughfares ofthe same class, still number a sprinkling of rising juniors, literarybarristers, and fairly prosperous attorneys. Perhaps the ancient aromaof the 'old law quarter'--Mesopotamia, us it is now disrespectfullytermed--is still strong and pleasant enough to attract a few lawyers whocherish a sentimental fondness for the past. A survey of the Post OfficeDirectory creates an impression that, compared with other neighborhoods, the district north and northeast of Bloomsbury Square still possessesmore than an average number of legal residents; but it no longer remainsthe quarter of the lawyers. 

There still resides in Mecklenburgh Square a learned Queen's Counsel, for whose preservation the prayers of the neighborhood constantlyascend. To his more scholarly and polite neighbors this gentleman is anobject of intellectual interest and anxious affection. As the last of anextinct species, as a still animate Dodo, as a lordly Mohican who hasoutlived his tribe, this isolated counselor of her Gracious Majesty iswatched by heedful eyes whenever he crosses his threshold. In themorning, as he paces from his dwelling to chambers, his way down DoughtyStreet and John Street, and through Gray's Inn Gardens, is guarded bymen anxious for his safety. Shreds of orange-peel are whisked from thepavement on which he is about to tread; and when he crosses Holborn hewalks between those who would imperil their lives to rescue him fromdanger. The gatekeeper in Doughty Street daily makes him low obeisance, knowing the historic value and interest of his courtly presence. Occasionally the inhabitants of Mecklenburgh Square whisper a fear thatsome sad morning their Q. C. May flit away without giving them a warning. Long may it be before the residents of the 'Old Law Quarter' shall wailover the fulfillment of this dismal anticipation!

[2] Dr. Clench lived in Brownlow Street, Holborn; and until his death, in 1831, John Abernethy occupied in Bedford Row the house which is stillinhabited by an eminent surgeon, who was Abernethy's favorite pupil. OfDr. Clench's death in January, 1691-2, Narcissus Luttrell gives thefollowing account: "The 5th, last night, Dr. Clench, the physician, wasstrangled in a coach; two persons came to his house in Brownlow Street, Holborn, in a coach, and pretended to carry him to a patient's in theCity; they drove backward and forward, and after some time stopt byLeadenhall, and sent the coachman to buy a couple of fowls for supper, who went accordingly; and in the meantime they slipt away, and thecoachman when he returned found Dr. Clench with a handkerchief tyedabout his neck, with a hard sea-coal twisted in it, and clapt againsthis windpipe; he had spirits applied to him and other means, but toolate, he having been dead some time. " Dr. Clench's murderer, one Mr. Harrison, a man of gentle condition, was apprehended, tried, foundguilty, and hung in chains. 

[3] Holt's country seat was Redgrave Hall, formerly the home of theBacons. It was on his manor of Redgrave, that Sir Nicholas Baconentertained Queen Elizabeth, when she remarked that her Lord Keeper'shouse was too small for him, and he answered--"Your Majesty has made metoo great for my house. "

PART II. 

LOVES OF THE LAWYERS. 

CHAPTER VI. 

A LOTTERY. 

"I would compare the multitude of women which are to be chosen for wivesunto a bag full of snakes, having among them a single eel; now if a manshould put his hand into this bag, he may chance to light on the eel;but it is an hundred to one he shall be stung by a snake. "

These words were often heard from the lips of that honest judge, SirJohn More, whose son Thomas stirred from brain to foot by the brighteyes, and snowy neck, and flowing locks of _cara Elizabetha_ (the _caraElizabetha_ of a more recent Tom More was 'Bessie, my darling')--pennedthose warm and sweetly-flowing verses which delight scholars of thepresent generation, and of which the following lines are neither theleast musical nor the least characteristic:--

 "Jam subit illa dies quæ ludentem obtulit olim Inter virgineos te mibi prima choros. Lactea cum flavi decuerunt colla capilli, Cum gena par nivibus visa, labella rosis: Cum tua perstringunt oculos duo sydera nostros Perque oculos intrant in mea corda meos. "

The goddess of love played the poet more than one droll trick. Havingapproached her with musical flattery, he fled from her with fear andabhorrence. For a time the highest and holiest of human affections wasto his darkened mind no more than a carnal appetite; and he strove toconquer the emotions which he feared would rouse within him a riot ofimpious passions. With fasting and cruel discipline he would fain havekilled the devil that agitated him, whenever he passed a pretty girl inthe street. As a lay Carthusian he wore a hair-shirt next his skin, disciplined his bare back with scourges, slept on the cold ground or ahard bench, and by a score other strong measures sought to preserve hisspiritual by ruining his bodily health. But nature was too powerful forunwholesome doctrine and usage, and before he rashly took a celibaticvow, he knelt to fair Jane Colt--and rising, kissed her on the lips. 

When spiritual counsel had removed his conscientious objections tomatrimony, he could not condescend to marry for love, but must, forsooth, choose his wife in obedience to considerations of compassionand mercy. Loving her younger sister, he paid his addresses to Jane, because he shrunk from the injustice of putting the junior above theolder of the two girls. "Sir Thomas having determined, by the advice anddirection of his ghostly father, to be a married man, there was at thattime a pleasant conceited gentleman of an ancient family in Essex, oneMr. John Colt, of New Hall, that invited him into his house, being muchdelighted in his company, proffering unto him the choice of any of hisdaughters, who were young gentlewomen of very good carriage, goodcomplexions, and very religiously inclined; whose honest and sweetconversation and virtuous education enticed Sir Thomas not a little; andalthough his affection most served him to the second, for that hethought her the fairest and best favored, yet when he thought withinhimself that it would be a grief and some blemish to the eldest to havethe younger sister preferred before her, he, out of a kind ofcompassion, settled his fancy upon the eldest, and soon after marriedher with all his friends' good liking. "

The marriage was a fair happy union, but its duration was short. Aftergiving birth to four children Jane died, leaving the young husband, whohad instructed her sedulously, to mourn her sincerely. That his sorrowwas poignant may be easily believed; for her death deprived him of adocile pupil, as well as a dutiful wife. 

"Virginem duxit admodum puellam, " Erasmus says of his friend, "clarogenere natam, rudem adhuc utpote ruri inter parentes ac sorores semperhabitam, quo magis illi liceret illam ad suos mores fingere. Hanc etliteris instruendam curavit, et omni musices genere doctam reddidit. "Here is another insight into the considerations which brought about themarriage. When he set out in search of a wife, he wished to capture asimple, unsophisticated, untaught country girl, whose ignorance of theworld should incline her to rely on his superior knowledge, and thedeficiencies of whose intellectual training should leave him an amplefield for educational experiments. Seeking this he naturally turned hissteps toward the eastern countries; and in Essex he found the younglady, who to the last learnt with intelligence and zeal the lessonswhich he set her. 

More's second choice of a wife was less fortunate than his first. Wanting a woman to take care of his children and preside over his rathernumerous establishment, he made an offer to a widow, named AliceMiddleton. Plain and homely in appearance and taste, Mistress Alicewould have been invaluable to Sir Thomas as a superior domestic servant, but his good judgment and taste deserted him when he decided to makeher a closer companion. Bustling, keen, loquacious, tart, the good damescolded servants and petty tradesmen with admirable effect; but even atthis distance of time the sensitive ear is pained by her sharp, garrulous tongue, when its acerbity and virulence are turned against herpacific and scholarly husband. A smile follows the recollection that heendeavored to soften her manners and elevate her nature by a system ofculture similar to that by which Jane Colt, 'admodum puella, ' had beenformed and raised into a polished gentlewoman. Past forty years of age, Mistress Alice was required to educate herself anew. Erasmus assures hisreaders that "though verging on old age, and not of a yielding temper, "she was prevailed upon "to take lessons on the lute, the cithara, theviol, the monochord, and the flute, which she daily practised to him. "

It has been the fashion with biographers to speak bitterly of this poorwoman, and to pity More for his cruel fate in being united to atermagant. No one has any compassion for her. Sir Thomas is the victim;Mistress Alice the shrill virago. In those days, when every historicreprobate finds an apologist, is there no one to say a word in behalf ofthe Widow Middleton, whose lot in life and death seems to this writervery pitiable? She was quick in temper, slow in brain, domineering, awkward. To rouse sympathy for such a woman is no easy task; but ifwretchedness is a title to compassion, Mistress Alice has a right tocharity and gentle usage. It _was not_ her fault that she could notsympathize with her grand husband, in his studies and tastes, his loftylife and voluntary death; it _was_ her misfortune that his stepstraversed plains high above her own moral and intellectual level. Bysocial theory they were intimate companions; in reality, no man andwoman in all England were wider apart. From his elevation he lookeddown on her with commiseration that was heightened by curiosity andamazement; and she daily writhed under his gracious condescension andpassionless urbanity; under her own consciousness of inferiority andconsequent self-scorn. He could no more sympathize with her petty aims, than she with the high views and ambitions; and conjugal sympathy wasfar more necessary to her than to him. His studious friends and cleverchildren afforded him an abundance of human fellowship; his public caresand intellectual pursuits gave him constant diversion. He stood in suchsmall need of her, that if some benevolent fairy had suddenly endowedher with grace, wisdom, and understanding, the sum of his satisfactionwould not have been perceptibly altered. But apart from him she had nosufficient enjoyments. His genuine companionship was requisite for herhappiness; but for this society nature had endowed her with no fitness. In the case of an unhappy marriage, where the unhappiness is not causedby actual misconduct, but is solely due to incongruity of tastes andcapacities, it is cruel to assume that the superior person of theill-assorted couple has the stronger claim to sympathy. 

Finding his wife less tractable than he wished, More withheld hisconfidence from her, taking the most important steps of his life, without either asking for her advice, or even announcing the coursewhich he was about to take. His resignation of the seals was announcedto her on the day _after_ his retirement from office, and in a mannerwhich, notwithstanding its drollery, would greatly pain any woman ofordinary sensibility. The day following the date of his resignation wasa holiday; and in accordance with his usage the ex-Chancellor, togetherwith his household, attended service in Chelsea Church. On her way tochurch, Lady More returned the greetings of her friends with astateliness not unseemly at that ceremonious time in one who was thelady of the Lord High Chancellor. At the conclusion of service, ere sheleft her pew, the intelligence was broken to her in a jest that she hadlost her cherished dignity. "And whereas upon the holidays during hisHigh Chancellorship one of his gentlemen, when the service of the churchwas done, ordinarily used to come to my lady his wife's pew-door, andsay unto her '_Madam, my lord is gone_, ' he came into my lady his wife'spew himself, and making a low courtesy, said unto her, 'Madam, my lordis gone, ' which she, imagining to be but one of his jests, as he usedmany unto her, he sadly affirmed unto her that it was true. This was theway he thought fittest to break the matter unto his wife, who was fullof sorrow to hear it. "

Equally humorous and pathetic was that memorable interview between Moreand his wife in the Tower, when she, regarding his position by thelights with which nature had endowed her, counseled him to yield even atthat late moment to the king. "What the goodyear, Mr. More!" she cried, bustling up to the tranquil and courageous man. "I marvel that you, whohave been hitherto always taken for a wise man, will now so play thefool as to lie here in this close, filthy prison, and be content to beshut up thus with mice and rats, when you might be abroad at yourliberty, with the favor and good-will both of the king and his council, if you would but do as the bishops and best learned of his realm havedone; and, seeing you have at Chelsea a right fair house, your library, your books, your gallery, and all other necessaries so handsome aboutyou, where you might, in company with me, your wife, your children, andhousehold, be merry, I muse what, in God's name, you mean, here thusfondly to tarry. " Having heard her out--preserving his good-humor, hesaid to her, with a cheerful countenance, "I pray thee, good Mrs. Alice, tell me one thing!" "What is it?" saith she, "Is not this houseas near heaven as my own?"

Sir Thomas More was looking towards heaven. 

Mistress Alice had her eye upon the 'right fair house' at Chelsea. 

CHAPTER VII. 

GOOD QUEEN BESS. 

Amongst the eminent men who are frequently mentioned as notorioussuitors for the personal affection of Queen Elizabeth, a conspicuousplace is awarded to Hatton, by the scandalous memoirs of his time andthe romantic traditions of later ages. Historians of the presentgeneration have accepted without suspicion the story that Hatton wasElizabeth's amorous courtier, that the fanciful letters of 'Lydds' werefervent solicitations for response to his passion; that he won her favorand his successive promotions by timely exhibition of personal grace andsteady perseverance in flattery. Campbell speaks of the queen and herchancellor as 'lovers;' and the view of the historian has been upheld bynovelists and dramatic writers. 

The writer of this page ventures to reject a story which is notconsistent with truth, and casts a dark suspicion on her who was notmore powerful as a queen than virtuous as a woman. 

For illustrations of lovers' pranks amongst the Elizabethan lawyers, thereader must pass to two great judges, the inferior of whom was a fargreater man than Christopher Hatton. Rivals in law and politics, Baconand Coke were also rivals in love. Having wooed the same proud, lovely, capricious, violent woman, the one was blessed with failure, and theother was cursed with success. 

Until a revolution in the popular estimate of Bacon was effected by Mr. Hepworth Dixon's vindication of that great man, it was generallybelieved that love was no appreciable element in his nature. Delight invain display occupied in his affections the place which should have beenheld by devotion to womanly beauty and goodness; he had sneered at lovein an essay, and his cold heart never rebelled against the doctrine ofhis clever brain; he wooed his notorious cousin for the sake of power, and then married Alice Barnham for money. Such was the theory, the mostsolid foundation of which was a humorous treatise, [4] misread andmisapplied. 

The lady's wealth, rank, and personal attractions were in truth the onlyfacts countenancing the suggestion that Francis Bacon proffered suit tohis fair cousin from interested motives. Notwithstanding her defects oftemper, no one denies that she was a woman qualified by nature to rousethe passion of man. A wit and beauty, she was mistress of the arts whichheighten the powers of feminine tact and loveliness. The daughter of SirThomas Cecil, the grandchild of Lord Burleigh, she was Francis Bacon'snear relation; and though the Cecils were not inclined to help him tofortune, he was nevertheless one of their connection, and consequentlyoften found himself in familiar conversation with the bright andfascinating woman. Doubtless she played with him, persuading herselfthat she merely treated him with cousinly cordiality, when she wasdesignedly making him her lover. The marvel was that she did not givehim her hand; that he sought it is no occasion for surprise--or forinsinuations that he coveted her wealth. Biography is by turnsmischievously communicative and vexatiously silent. That Bacon loved SirWilliam Hatton's widow, and induced Essex to support his suit, and thatrejecting him she gave herself to his enemy, we know; but history tellsus nothing of the secret struggle which preceded the lady's resolutionto become the wife of an unalluring, ungracious, peevish, middle-agedwidower. She must have felt some tenderness for her cousin, whosecomeliness spoke to every eye, whose wit was extolled by every lip. Perhaps she, like many others, had misread the essay 'Of Love, ' and feltherself bound in honor to bring the philosopher to his knees at herfeet. It is credible that from the outset of their sentimentalintercourse, she intended to win and then to flout him. But coquetrycannot conquer the first laws of human feeling. To be a good flirt, awoman must have nerve and a sympathetic nature; and doubtless the flirtin this instance paid for her triumph with the smart of a lasting wound. Is it fanciful to argue that her subsequent violence and misconduct, herimpatience of control and scandalous disrespect for her aged husband, may have been in some part due to the sacrifice of personal inclinationwhich she made in accepting Coke at the entreaty of prudent and selfishrelations--and to the contrast, perpetually haunting her, between whatshe was as Sir Edward's termagant partner, and what she might have beenas Francis Bacon's wife?

She consented to a marriage with Edward Coke, but was so ashamed of herchoice, that she insisted on a private celebration of their union, although Archbishop Whitgift had recently raised his voice against thescandal of clandestine weddings, and had actually forbidden them. In theface of the primate's edict the ill-assorted couple were united inwedlock, without license or publication of banns, by a country parson, who braved the displeasure of Whitgift, in order that he might securethe favor of a secular patron. The wedding-day was November 24, 1598, the bridegroom's first wife having been buried on the 24th of theprevious July. [5] On learning the violation of his orders, thearchbishop was so incensed that he resolved to excommunicate theoffenders, and actually instituted for that purpose legal proceedings, which were not dropped until bride and bridegroom humbly sued forpardon, pleading ignorance of law in excuse of their misbehavior. 

The scandalous consequences of that marriage are known to every readerwho has laughed over the more pungent and comic scenes of Englishhistory. Whilst Lady Hatton gave masques and balls in the superb palacewhich came into her possession through marriage with Sir ChristopherHatton's nephew, Coke lived in his chambers, working at cases andwriting the books which are still carefully studied by every young manwho wishes to make himself a master of our law. In private they hadperpetual squabbles, and they quarrelled with equal virulence andindecency before the world. The matrimonial settlement of their only andill-starred daughter was the occasion of an outbreak on the part ofhusband and wife, that not only furnished diversion for courtiers butagitated the council table. Of all the comic scenes connected with thatunseemly _fracas_, not the least laughable and characteristic was thegrand festival of reconciliation at Hatton House, when Lady Hattonreceived the king and queen in Holborn, and expressly forbade herhusband to presume to show himself among her guests. "The expectancy ofSir Edward's rising, " says a writer of the period, [6] "is much abated byreason of his lady's liberty, [7] who was brought in great honor toExeter House by my Lord of Buckingham from Sir William Craven's, whithershe had been remanded, presented by his lordship to the king, receivedgracious usage, reconciled to her daughter by his Majesty, and her housein Holborn enlightened by his presence at a dinner, where there was aroyal feast; and to make it more absolutely her own, expresscommandment given by her ladyship, that neither Sir Edward Coke nor anyof his servants should be admitted. "

If tradition may be credited, the law is greatly indebted to the classof women whom it was our forefathers' barbarous wont to punish with theducking-stool. Had Coke been happy in his second marriage, it is assumedthat he would have spent more time in pleasure and fewer hours at hisdesk, that the suitors in his court would have had less carefuldecisions, and that posterity would have been favored with fewerreports. If the inference is just, society may point to the commentaryon Littleton, and be thankful for the lady's unhappy temper and sharptongue. In like manner the wits of the following century maintained thatHolt's steady application to business was a consequence of domesticmisery. The lady who ruled his house in Bedford Row, is said to havebeen such a virago, that the Chief Justice frequently retired to hischambers, in order that he might place himself beyond reach of hervoice. Amongst the good stories told of Radcliffe, the Tory physician, is the tradition of his boast, that he kept Lady Holt alive out of purepolitical animosity to the Whig Chief Justice. Another eminent lawyer, over whose troubles people have made merry in the same fashion, wasJeffrey Gilbert, Baron of the Exchequer. At his death, October 14, 1726, this learned judge left behind him that mass of reports, histories, andtreatises by which he is known as one of the most luminous, as well asvoluminous of legal writers. None of his works passed through the pressduring his life, and when their number and value were discovered afterhis departure to another world, it was whispered that they had beencomposed in hours of banishment from a hearth where a _scolding wife_made misery for all who came within the range of her querulous notes. 

Disappointed in his suit to his beautiful and domineering cousin, Baconlet some five or six years pass before he allowed his thoughts again toturn to love, and then he wooed and waited for nearly three years more, ere, on a bright May day, he met Alice Barnham in Marylebone Chapel, andmade her his wife in the presence of a courtly company. In the July of1603, he wrote to Cecil:--"For this divulged and almost prostitutedtitle of knighthood, I could, without charge by your honor's mean, becontent to have it, both because of this late disgrace, and because Ihave three new knights in my mess in Gray's Inn Commons, and because Ihave found out an alderman's daughter, a handsome maiden, to my liking. So as if your honor will find the time, I will come to the court fromGorhambury upon any warning. " This expression, 'an alderman's daughter, 'contributed greatly, if it did not give rise to, the misapprehensionthat Bacon's marriage was a mercenary arrangement. In these later timesthe social status of an alderman is so much beneath the rank of adistinguished member of the bar, that a successful queen's counsel, whoshould make an offer to the daughter of a City magistrate, would beregarded as bent upon a decidedly unambitious match; and if in asignificant tone he spoke of the lady as 'an alderman's daughter' hiswords might be reasonably construed as a hint that her fortune atonedfor her want of rank. But it never occurred to Bacon's contemporaries toput such a construction on the announcement. Far from using the words inan apologetic manner, the lover meant them to express concisely thatAlice Barnham was a lady of suitable condition to bear a title as wellas to become his bride. Cecil regarded them merely as an assurance thathis relative meditated a suitable and even advantageous alliance, justas any statesman of the present day would read an announcement that akinsman, making his way in the law-courts, intended to marry 'anadmiral's daughter' or a 'bishop's daughter. ' That it was the reverse ofa mercenary marriage, Mr. Hepworth Dixon has indisputably proved in hiseighth chapter of 'The Story of Lord Bacon's Life, ' where he contrastsLady Bacon's modest fortune with her husband's personal acquisitions andprospects. 

[4] To readers who have no sense of humor and irony, the essay 'Of Love'unquestionably gives countenance to the theory that Francis Bacon wascold and passionless in all that concerned woman. Of the many strangeconstructions put upon this essay, not the least amusing and perverse isthat which would make it a piece of adroit flattery to Elizabeth, whonever permitted love "to check with business, " though she is representedto have used it as a diversion in idle moments. If Sir Thomas More's'Utopia' had been published a quarter of a century after 1518 (the dateof its appearance), a similar construction would have been put on thepassage, which urges that lovers should not be bound by an indissolubletie of wedlock, until mutual inspection has satisfied each of thecontracting parties that the other does not labor under any gravepersonal defect. If it were possible to regard the passage containingthis proposal as an interpolation in the original romance, it might thenbe regarded as an attempt to palliate Henry VIII. 's conduct to Anne ofCleves. 

[5] When due allowance has been made for the difference between theusages of the sixteenth century and the present time, decency wassignally violated by this marriage, which followed so soon upon Mrs. Coke's death, and still sooner upon the death of Lady Hatton's famousgrandfather, at whose funeral the lawyer made the first overtures forher hand. Mrs. Coke died June 27, 1598, and was buried at Huntingfield, co. Suffolk, July 24, 1598. Lord Burleigh expired on August 4, of thesame year. Coke's first marriage was not unhappy; and on the death ofhis wife by that union, he wrote in his note-book:--"Most beloved andmost excellent wife, she well and happily lived, and, as a true handmaidof the Lord, fell asleep in the Lord, and now lives and reigns inheaven. " In after years he often wished most cordially that he could say_as much_ for his second wife. 

[6] Strafford's Letters and Despatches, I. 5. 

[7] Lady Hatton never used her second husband's name either before orafter his knighthood. A good case, touching the customary right of amarried lady to bear the name, and take her title from the rank of aformer husband, is that of Sir Dudley North, Charles II. 's notorioussheriff of London. The son of an English peer, he married Lady Gunning, the widow of a wealthy civic knight, and daughter of Sir Robert Cann, "amorose old merchant of Bristol"--the same magistrate whom JudgeJeffreys, in terms not less just than emphatic, upbraided for hisconnection with, or to speak moderately, his connivance at, the Bristolkidnappers. It might be thought that the merchant's daughter, on hermarriage with a peer's son, would be well content to relinquish thetitle of Lady Gunning; but Roger North tells us that his brother Dudleyaccepted knighthood, in order that he might avoid giving offence to thecity, and also, in order that his wife might be called Lady North, andnot Lady Gunning. --_Vide Life of the Hon. Sir Dudley North. _ After SirThomas Wilde (subsequently Lord Truro), married Augusta Emma d'Este, thedaughter of the duke of Sussex and Lady Augusta Murray, that lady, ofwhose legitimacy Sir Thomas had vainly endeavored to convince the Houseof Lords, retained her maiden surname. In society she was generallyknown as the Princess d'Este, and the bilious satirists of the Inns ofCourt used to speak of Sir Thomas as 'the Prince. ' It was said that oneof Wilde's familiar associates, soon after the lawyer's marriage, calledat his house and asked if the Princess d'Este was at home. "No, sir, "replied the servant, "the Princess d'Este is not at home, but the Princeis!" That this malicious story obtained a wide currency is notwonderful; that it is a truthful anecdote the writer of this book wouldnot like to pledge his credit. The case of Sir John Campbell and LadyStrathedon, was a notable instance of a lawyer and his wife bearingdifferent names. Raised to the peerage, with the title of BaronessStratheden, the first Lord Abinger's eldest daughter was indebted to herhusband for an honor that made him her social inferior. Many readerswill remember a droll story of a misapprehension caused by herladyship's title. During an official journey, Sir John Campbell andBaroness Stratheden slept at lodgings which he had frequently occupiedas a circuiteer. On the morning after his arrival, the landlady obtaineda special interview with Campbell, and in the baroness's absence thusaddressed him, with mingled indignation and respectfulness:--"Sir JohnCampbell, I am a lone widow, and live by my good name. It is not in myhumble place to be too curious about the ladies brought to my lodgingsby counsellors and judges. It is not in me to make remarks if acounsellor's lady changes the color of her eyes, and her complexionevery assizes. But, Sir John, a gentleman ought not to bring a lady to alone widow's lodgings, unless so long as he 'okkipies' the apartments hemakes all honorable professions that the lady is his wife, and as suchgives her the use of his name. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

REJECTED ADDRESSES. 

No lawyer of the Second Charles's time surpassed Francis North in loveof money, or was more firmly resolved not to marry, without due andsubstantial consideration. 

His first proposal was for the daughter of a Gray's Inn money-lender. Usury was not a less contemptible vocation in the seventeenth centurythan it is at the present time; and most young barristers of gentledescent and fair prospects would have preferred any lot to thedegradation of marriage with the child of the most fortunate usurer inCharles II. 's London. But the Hon. Francis North was placed comfortably_beneath_ the prejudices of his order and time of life. He was of noblebirth, but quite ready to marry into a plebeian family; he was young, but loved money more than aught else. So his hearing was quickened andhis blood beat merrily when, one fine morning, "there came to him arecommendation of a lady, who was an only daughter of an old usurer inGray's Inn, supposed to be a good fortune in present, for her father wasrich; but, after his death, to become worth, nobody could tell what. "One would like to know how that 'recommendation of a lady' reached thelawyer's chambers; above all, who sent it?

"His lordship, " continues Roger North, "got a sight of the lady, and didnot dislike her; thereupon he made the old man a visit, and a proposalof himself to marry his daughter. " By all means let this ingenuous, high-spirited Templar have a fair judgment. He would not have soldhimself to just any woman. He required a _maximum_ of wealth with a_minimum_ of personal repulsiveness. He therefore 'took a sight of thelady' (it does not appear that he talked with her) before he committedhimself irrevocably by a proposal. The _sight_ having been taken, as hedid not dislike her (mind, he did not positively like her) he made theold man a visit. Loving money, and believing in it, this 'old man'wished to secure as much of it as possible for his only child; andtherefore looking keenly at the youthful admirer of a usurer's heiress, "asked him what estate his father intended to settle upon him forpresent maintenance, jointure, and provision for children. " Mildly andnot unjustly Roger calls this "an inauspicious question. " It was soinauspicious that Mr. Francis North abruptly terminated the discussionby wishing the usurer good-morning. So ended Love Affair No. 1. 

Having lost his dear companion, Mr. Edward Palmer, son of the powerfulSir Geoffry Palmer, Mr. Francis North soon regarded his friend's wifewith tender longing. It was only natural that he should desire tomitigate his sorrow for the dead by possession of the woman who was"left a flourishing widow, and very rich. " But the lady knew her worth, as well she might, for "never was lady more closely besieged withwooers: she had no less than five younger sons sat down before her atone time, and she kept them well in hand, as they say, giving nodefinite answers to any of one of them. " Small respect did MistressEdward Palmer show her late husband's most intimate friend. For weeksshe tortured the wretched, knavish fellow with coquettish tricks, andhaving rendered him miserable in many ways, made him ludicrous byjilting him. "He was held at the long saw above a month, doing his dutyas well as he might, and that was but clumsily; for he neither dressednor danced, when his rivals were adroit at both, and the lady used toshuffle her favors amongst them affectedly, and on purpose to mortifyhis lordship, and at the same time be as civil to him, with like purposeto mortify them. " Poor Mr. Francis! Well may his brother writeindignantly, "It was very grievous to him--that had his thoughts uponhis clients' concerns, which came in thick upon him--to be held in acourse of bo-peep play with a crafty widow. " At length, "after aclancular proceeding, " this crafty widow, by marrying "a jolly knight ofa good estate, " set her victims free; and Mr. Francis was at liberty tolook elsewhere for a lapful of money. 

Roger North tells the story of the third affair so concisely and pithilythat his exact words must be put before the reader:--"Anotherproposition came to his lordship, " writes the fraternal biographer, giving Francis North credit for the title he subsequently won, althoughat the time under consideration he was plain _Mister_ North, on the keenlook-out for the place of Solicitor General, "by a city broker, from SirJohn Lawrence, who had many daughters, and those reputed beauties; andthe fortune was to be £6000. His lordship went and dined with thealderman, and liked the lady, who (as the way is) was dressed out for amuster. And coming to treat, the portion shrank to £5000, and upon thathis lordship parted, and was not gone far before Mr. Broker (following)came to him, and said Sir John would give £500 more at the birth of thefirst child; but that would not do, for his lordship hated suchscrewing. Not long after this dispute, his lordship was made the King'sSolicitor General, and then the broker came again, with news that SirJohn would give £10, 000. 'No, ' his lordship said, 'after such usage hewould not proceed if he might have £20, 000. '" The intervention of thebroker in this negotiation is delightfully suggestive. More should havebeen said about him--his name, address, and terms for doing business. Was he paid for his services on all that he could save from a certainsum beyond which his employer would not advance a single gold-piece forthe disposal of his child? Were there, in olden time, men who avowedthemselves 'Heart and Jointure Brokers, Agents for Lovers of both Sexes, Contractors of Mutual Attachments, Wholesale and Retail Dealers inReciprocal Affection, and General Referees, Respondents, and Insurers inall Sentimental Affairs, Clandestine or otherwise?'

After these mischances Francis North made an eligible match undersomewhat singular circumstances. As co-heiresses of Thomas, Earl ofDown, three sisters, the Ladies Pope, claimed under certain settlementslarge estates of inheritance, to which Lady Elizabeth Lee set up acounter claim. North, acting as Lady Elizabeth Lee's counsel, effected acompromise which secured half the property in dispute to his client, anddiminished by one-half the fortunes to which each of the three suitorson the other side had maintained their right. Having thus reduced theestate of Lady Frances Pope to a fortune estimated at about £14, 000, thelawyer proposed for her hand, and was accepted. After his marriage, alluding to his exertions in behalf of Lady Elizabeth Lee's verydisputable claim, he used to say that "he had been counsel againsthimself;" but Roger North frankly admits that "if this question had notcome to such a composition, which diminished the ladies' fortunes, hisbrother had never compassed his match. "

It was not without reluctance that the Countess of Downs consented tothe union of her daughter with the lawyer who had half ruined her, andwho (though he was Solicitor General and in fine practice) could settleonly £5000 upon the lady. "I well remember, " observes Roger, "the goodcountess had some qualms, and complained that she knew not how she couldjustify what she had done (meaning the marrying her daughters with nobetter settlement). " To these qualms Francis North, with lawyer-likecoolness, answered--"Madam, if you meet with any question about that, _say_ that your daughter has £1000 per annum jointure. "

The marriage was celebrated in Wroxton Church; and after bountifulrejoicings with certain loyalist families of Oxfordshire, the happycouple went up to London and lived in chambers until they moved into ahouse in Chancery Lane. 

It may surprise some readers of this book to learn that George Jeffreys, the odious judge of the Bloody Circuit, was a successful gallant. Tall, well-shaped, and endowed by nature with a pleasant countenance andagreeable features, Jeffreys was one of the most fascinating men of histime. A wit and a _bon-vivant_, he could hit the humor of the roysteringcavaliers who surrounded the 'merry monarch;' a man of gallantry andpolite accomplishments, he was acceptable to women of society. The sametongue that bullied from the bench, when witnesses were perverse orcounsel unruly, could flatter with such melodious affectation ofsincerity, that he was known as a most delightful companion. As amusical connoisseur he spoke with authority; as a teller of good storieshe had no equal in town. Even those who detested him did not venture todeny that in the discharge of his judicial offices he could at hispleasure assume a dignity and urbane composure that well became the seatof justice. In short, his talents and graces were so various andeffective, that he would have risen to the bench, even if he had laboredunder the disadvantages of pure morality and amiable temper. 

Women declared him irresistible. At court he had the ear of Nell Gwynand the Duchess of Portsmouth--the Protestant favorite and the Catholicmistress; and before he attained the privilege of entering Whitehall--ata time when his creditors were urgent, and his best clients were theinferior attorneys of the city courts--he was loved by virtuous girls. He was still poor, unknown, and struggling with difficulties, when heinduced an heiress to accept his suit, --the daughter of a rural squirewhose wine the barrister had drunk upon circuit. This young lady waswooed under circumstances of peculiar difficulty; and she promised toelope with him if her father refused to receive him as a son-in-law. Ill-luck befell the scheme; and whilst young Jeffreys was waiting inthe Temple for the letter which should decide his movements, anintimation reached him that elopement was impossible and unionforbidden. The bearer of this bad news was a young lady--the child of apoor clergyman--who had been the confidential friend and paid companionof the squire's daughter. 

The case was hard for Jeffreys, cruel for the fair messenger. He hadlost an advantageous match, she had lost her daily bread. Furious withher for having acted as the _confidante_ of the clandestine lovers, thesquire had turned this poor girl out of his house; and she had come toLondon to seek for employment as well as to report the disaster. 

Jeffreys saw her overpowered with trouble and shame--penniless in thegreat city, and disgraced by expulsion from her patron's roof. Seeingthat her abject plight was the consequence of amiable readiness to servehim, Jeffreys pitied and consoled her. Most young men would have soothedtheir consciences and dried the running tears with a gift of money or aletter recommending the outcast to a new employer. As she was pretty, alibertine would have tried to seduce her. In Jeffreys, compassion rouseda still finer sentiment: he loved the poor girl and married her. On May23, 1667, Sarah Neesham was married to George Jeffreys of the InnerTemple; and her father, in proof of his complete forgiveness of her_escapade_, gave her a fortune of £300--a sum which the poor clergymancould not well afford to bestow on the newly married couple. 

Having outlived Sarah Neesham, Jeffreys married again--taking for hissecond wife a widow whose father was Sir Thomas Bludworth, ex-Lord Mayorof London. Whether rumor treated her unjustly it is impossible to say atthis distance of time; but if reliance may be put on many broad storiescurrent about the lady, her conduct was by no means free from fault. Shewas reputed to entertain many lovers. Jeffreys would have created lessscandal if, instead of taking her to his home, he had imitated the piousSir Matthew Hale, who married his maid-servant, and on being twitted bythe world with the lowliness of his choice, silenced his censors with ajest. 

Amongst the love affairs of seventeenth-century lawyers place must bemade for mention of the second wife whom Chief Justice Bramston broughthome from Ireland, where she had outlived two husbands (the Bishop ofClogher and Sir John Brereton), before she gave her hand to the judgewho had loved her in his boyhood. "When I see her, " says the ChiefJustice's son, who describes the expedition to Dublin, and the return toLondon, "I confess I wondered at my father's love. She was low, fatt, red-faced; her dress, too, was a hat and ruff, which tho' she neverchanged to death. But my father, I believe, seeing me changecountenance, told me it was not beautie, but virtue, he courted. Ibelieve she had been handsome in her youth; she had a delicate, finehand, white and plump, and indeed proved a good wife and mother-in-law, too. " On her journey to Charles I. 's London, this elderly bride, in herantiquated attire, rode from Holyhead to Beaumaris on a pillion behindher step-son. "As she rode over the sandes, " records her step-son, "behind mee, and pulling off her gloves, her wedding ringe fell off, andsunk instantly. She caused her man to alight; she sate still behind me, and kept her eye on the place, and directed her man, but he not guessingwell, she leaped off, saying she would not stir without her ringe, itbeing the most unfortunate thinge that could befall any one to lose thewedding-ringe--made the man thrust his hand into the sands (the natureof which is not to bear any weight but passing), he pulled up sand, butnot the ringe. She made him strip his arme and put it deeper into thesand, and pulled up the ringe; and this done, he and shee, and all thatstood still, were sunk almost to the knees, but we were all pleased thatthe ringe was found. "

In the legal circle of Charles the Second's London, Lady King wasnotable as a virago whose shrill tongue disturbed her husband's peace ofmind by day, and broke his rest at night. Earning a larger income thanany other barrister of his time, he had little leisure for domesticsociety; but the few hours which he could have spent with his wife andchildren, he usually preferred to spend in a tavern, beyond the reach ofhis lady's sharp querulousness. "All his misfortune, " says Roger North, "lay at home, in perverse consort, who always, after his day-labor done, entertained him with all the chagrin and peevishness imaginable; so thathe went home as to his prison, or worse; and when the time came, ratherthan go home, he chose commonly to get a friend to go and sit in a freechat at the tavern, over a single bottle, till twelve or one at night, and then to work again at five in the morning. His fatigue in business, which, as I said, was more than ordinary to him, and his no comfort, orrather, discomfort at home, and taking his refreshment by excising hissleep, soon pulled him down; so that, after a short illness, he died. "On his death-bed, however, he forgave the weeping woman, who, morethrough physical irritability than wicked design, had caused him so muchundeserved discomfort; and by his last will and testament he madeliberal provision for her wants. Having made his will, "he said, I amglad it is done, " runs the memoir of Sir John King, written by hisfather, "and after took leave of his wife, who was full of tears; seeingit is the will of God, let us part quietly in friendship, withsubmissiveness to his will, as we came together in friendship by Hiswill. "

CHAPTER IX. 

"CICERO" UPON HIS TRIAL. 

A complete history of the loves of lawyers would notice many scandalousintrigues and disreputable alliances, and would comprise a good deal ofliterature for which the student would vainly look in the works of ourbest authors. From the days of Wolsey, whose amours were notorious, andwhose illegitimate son became Dean of Wells, down to the present time ofbrighter though not unimpeachable morality, the domestic lives of oureminent judges and advocates have too frequently invited satire andjustified regret. In the eighteenth century judges, without any loss of_caste_ or popular regard, openly maintained establishments that inthese more decorous and actually better days would cover their keeperswith obloquy. Attention could be directed to more than one legal familyin which the descent must be traced through a succession of illegitimatebirths. Not only did eminent lawyers live openly with women who were nottheir wives, and with children whom the law declined to recognize astheir offspring; but these women and children moved in good society, apparently indifferent to shame that brought upon them but fewinconveniences. In Great Ormond Street, where a mistress and severalillegitimate children formed his family circle, Lord Thurlow was visitedby bishops and deans; and it is said that in 1806, when Sir JamesMansfield, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, was invited to thewoolsack and the peerage, he was induced to decline the offer more byconsideration for his illegitimate children than by fears for thestability of the new administration. 

Speaking of Lord Thurlow's undisguised intercourse with Mrs. Hervey, Lord Campbell says, "When I first knew the profession, it would nothave been endured that any one in a judicial situation should have hadsuch a domestic establishment as Thurlow's; but a majority of judges hadmarried their mistresses. The understanding then was that a man elevatedto the bench, if he had a mistress, must either marry her or put heraway. For many years there has been no necessity for such analternative. " Either Lord Campbell had not the keen appetite forprofessional gossip, with which he is ordinarily credited, or hisconscience must have pricked him when he wrote, "For many years therehas been no necessity for such an alternative. " To show how far hislordship erred through want of information or defect of candor is notthe duty of this page; but without making any statement that can woundprivate feeling, the present writer may observe that 'theunderstanding, ' to which Lord Campbell draws attention, has affected thefortune of ladies within the present generation. 

That the bright and high-minded Somers was the debauchee that Mrs. Manley and Mr. Cooksey would have us believe him is incredible. It isdoubtful if Mackey in his 'Sketch of Leading Characters at the EnglishCourt' had sufficient reasons for clouding his sunny picture of thestatesman with the assertion that he was "something of a libertine. " Butthere are occasions when prudence counsels us to pay attention toslander. 

Having raised himself to the office of Solicitor General, Somers, likeFrancis Bacon, found an alderman's daughter to his liking; and havingformed a sincere attachment for her, he made his wishes known to herfather. Miss Anne Bawdon's father was a wealthy merchant, styled SirJohn Bawdon--a man proud of his civic station and riches, and thinkinglightly of lawyers and law. When Somers stated his property andprojects, the rental of his small landed estate and the buoyancy of hisprofessional income, the opulent knight by no means approved theprospect offered to his child. The lawyer might die in the course oftwelve months; in which case the Worcestershire estate would be still asmall estate, and the professional income would cease. In twelve mouthsMr. Solicitor might be proved a scoundrel, for at heart all lawyers werearrant rogues; in which case matters would be still worse. Havingregarded the question from these two points of view, Sir John Bawdongave Somers his dismissal and married Miss Anne to a rich Turkeymerchant. Three years later, when Somers had risen to the woolsack, andit was clear that the rich Turkey merchant would never be anythinggrander than a rich Turkey merchant, Sir John saw that he had made aserious blunder, for which his child certainly could not thank him. Agoodly list might be made of cases where papas have erred and repentedin Sir John Bawdon's fashion. Sir John Lawrence would have made hisdaughter a Lord Keeper's lady and a peeress, if he and his broker haddealt more liberally with Francis North. Had it not been for Sir JosephJekyll's counsel, Mr. Cocks, the Worcestershire squire, would haverejected Philip Yorke as an ineligible suitor, in which case _plain_Mrs. Lygon would never have been Lady Hardwicke, and worked herhusband's twenty purses of state upon curtains and hangings of crimsonvelvet. And, if he were so inclined, this writer could point to alearned judge, who in his days of 'stuff' and 'guinea fees' was deemedan ineligible match for a country apothecary's pretty daughter. Thecountry doctor being able to give his daughter £20, 000, turned awaydisdainfully from the unknown 'junior, ' who five years later was leadinghis circuit, and quickly rose to the high office which he still fills tothe satisfaction of his country. 

Disappointed in his pursuit of Anne Bawdon, Somers never again made anywoman an offer of marriage; but scandalous gossip accused him of immoralintercourse with his housekeeper. This woman's name was Blount; andwhile she resided with the Chancellor, fame whispered that her husbandwas still living. Not only was Somers charged with open adultery, but itwas averred that for the sake of peace he had imprisoned in a madhousehis mistress's lawful husband, who was originally a Worcester tradesman. The chief authority for this startling imputation is Mrs. Manley, whowas encouraged, if not actually paid, by Swift to lampoon his politicaladversaries. In her 'New Atalantis'--the 'Cicero' of which scandalouswork was understood by its readers to signify 'Lord Somers, '--thisshameless woman entertained quid-nuncs and women of fashion by puttingthis abominable story in written words, the coarseness of which accordedwith the repulsiveness of the accusation. 

At a time when honest writers on current politics were punished withfine and imprisonment, the pillory and the whip, statesmen andecclesiastics were not ashamed to keep such libellers as Mrs. Manley intheir pay. That the reader may fully appreciate the change which timehas wrought in the tone of political literature, let him contrast thevirulence and malignity of this unpleasant passage from the NewAtalantis, with the tone which recently characterized the publicdiscussion of the case which is generally known by the name of 'TheEdmunds Scandal. '

Notwithstanding her notorious disregard of truth, it is scarcelycredible that Mrs. Manley's scurrilous charge was in no way countenancedby facts. At the close of the seventeenth century to keep a mistress wasscarcely regarded as an offence against good morals; and living inaccordance with the fashion of the time, it is probable that Somers didthat which Lord Thurlow, after an interval of a century, was able to dowithout rousing public disapproval. Had his private life been spotless, he would doubtless have taken legal steps to silence his traducer; andunsustained by a knowledge that he dared not court inquiry into hisdomestic arrangements, Mrs. Manley would have used her pen with greatercaution. But all persons competent to form an opinion on the case haveagreed that the more revolting charges of the indictment were thebaseless fictions of a malicious and unclean mind. 

CHAPTER X. 

BROTHERS IN TROUBLE. 

In the 'Philosophical Dictionary, ' Voltaire, laboring undermisapprehension or carried away by perverse humor, made the followingstrange announcement:--"Il est public en Angleterre, et on voudroit lenier en vain, que le Chancelier Cowper épousa deux femmes, qui vécurentensemble dans sa maison avec une concorde singulière qui fit honneur àtous trois. Plusieurs curieux ont encore le petit livre que ceChancelier composa en faveur de la Polygamie. " Tickled by theextravagant credulity or grotesque malice of this declaration, anEnglish wit, improving upon the published words, represented theFrenchman as maintaining that the custodian of the Great Seal of Englandwas called the _Lord Keeper_, because, by English law, he was permittedto keep as many wives as he pleased. 

The reader's amusement will not be diminished by a brief statement ofthe facts to which we are indebted for Voltaire's assertions. 

William Cowper, the first earl of his line, began life with a reputationfor dissipated tastes and habits, and by unpleasant experience helearned how difficult it is to get rid of a bad name. The son of aHertfordshire baronet, he was still a law student when he formed areprehensible connexion with an unmarried lady of that county--Miss (or, as she was called by the fashion of the day Mistress) Elizabeth Culling, of Hertingfordbury Park. But little is known of this woman. Her age isan affair of uncertainty, and all the minor circumstances of herintrigue with young William Cowper are open to doubt and conjecture; butthe few known facts justify the inference that she neither merited norfound much pity in her disgrace, and that William erred through boyishindiscretion rather than from vicious propensity. She bore him twochildren, and he neither married her nor was required by public opinionto marry her. The respectability of their connexions gave the affair apeculiar interest, and afforded countenance to many groundless reports. By her friends it was intimated that the boy had not triumphed over thelady's virtue until he had made her a promise of marriage; and somepersons even went so far as to assert that they were privately married. It is not unlikely that at one time the boy intended to make her hiswife as soon as he should be independent of his father, and free toplease himself. Beyond question, however, is it that they were neverunited in wedlock, and that Will Cowper joined the Home Circuit with thetenacious fame of a scapegrace and _roué_. 

That he was for any long period a man of dissolute morals is improbable;for he was only twenty-four years of age when he was called to the bar, and before his call he had married (after a year's wooing) a virtuousand exemplary young lady, with whom he lived happily for more thantwenty years. A merchant's child, whose face was her fortune--Judith, the daughter of Sir Robert Booth, is extolled by biographers forreclaiming her young husband from a life of levity and culpablepleasure. That he loved her sincerely from the date of their imprudentmarriage till the date of her death, which occurred just about sixmonths before his elevation to the woolsack, there is abundant evidence. 

Judith died April 2, 1705, and in the September of the following yearthe Lord Keeper married Mary Clavering, the beautiful and virtuous ladyof the bedchamber to Caroline Wilhelmina Dorothea, Princess of Wales. This lady was the Countess Cowper whose diary was published by Mr. Murray in the spring of 1864; and in every relation of life she was asgood and noble a creature as her predecessor in William Cowper'saffection. Of the loving terms on which she lived with her lord, conclusive testimony is found in their published letters and her diary. Frequently separated by his professional avocations and her duties ofattendance upon the Princess of Wales, they maintained, during theperiods of personal severance, a close and tender intercourse by writtenwords; and at all other times, in sickness not less than in health, theywere a fondly united couple. One pathetic entry in the countess's diaryspeaks eloquently of their nuptial tenderness and devotion:--"April 7th, 1716. After dinner we went to Sir Godfrey Kneller's to see a picture ofmy lord, which he is drawing, and is the best that was ever done forhim; it is for my drawing-room, and in the same posture that he watchedme so many weeks in my great illness. "

Lord Cowper's second marriage was solemnized with a secrecy for whichhis biographers are unable to account. The event took place September, 1706, about two months before his father's death, but it was notannounced till the end of February, 1707, at which time Luttrell enteredin his diary, "The Lord Keeper, who not long since was privately marriedto Mrs. Clavering of the bishoprick of Durham, brought her home thisday. " Mr. Foss, in his 'Judges of England, ' suggests that theconcealment of the union "may not improbably be explained by the LordKeeper's desire not to disturb the last days of his father, who mightperhaps have been disappointed that the selection had not fallen on someother lady to whom he had wished his son to be united. " But thisconjecture, notwithstanding its probability, is only a conjecture. Unless they had grave reasons for their conduct, the Lord Keeper and hislady had better have joined hands in the presence of the world, for themystery of their private wedding nettled public curiosity, and gave newlife to an old slander. 

Cowper's boyish _escapade_ was not forgotten by the malicious. No soonerhad he become conspicuous in his profession and in politics, than thestory of his intercourse with Miss Culling was told in coffee-rooms withall the exaggerations that prurient fancy could devise or enmitydictate. The old tale of a secret marriage--or, still worse, of a mockmarriage--was caught from the lips of some Hertford scandal-monger, andconveyed to the taverns and drawing-rooms of London. In taking SirRobert Booth's daughter to Church, he was said to have committed bigamy. Even while he was in the House of Commons he was known by the name of'Will Bigamy;' and that _sobriquet_ clung to him ever afterwards. Twentyyears of wholesome domestic intercourse with his first wife did not freehim from the abominable imputation, and his marriage with Miss Claveringrevived the calumny in a new form. Fools were found to believe that hehad married her during Judith Booth's life and that their union had beenconcealed for several years instead of a few months. The affair withMiss Culling was for a time forgotten, and the charge preferred againstthe keeper of the queen's conscience was bigamy of a much more recentdate. 

In various forms this ridiculous accusation enlivens the squibs of thepamphleteers of Queen Anne's reign. In the 'New Atalantis' Mrs. Manleycertified that the fair victim was first persuaded by his lordship'ssophistries to regard polygamy as accordant with moral law. Having thuspoisoned her understanding, he gratified her with a form of marriage, inwhich his brother Spencer, in clerical disguise, acted the part of apriest. It was even suggested that the bride in this mock marriage wasthe lawyer's ward. Never squeamish about the truth, when he could gain apoint by falsehood, Swift endorsed the spiteful fabrication, and in the_Examiner_, pointing at Lord Cowper, wrote--"This gentleman, knowingthat marriage fees were a considerable perquisite to the clergy, foundout a way of improving them cent. Per cent. For the benefit of theChurch. His invention was to marry a second wife while the first wasalive; convincing her of the lawfulness by such arguments as he did notdoubt would make others follow the same example. _These he had drawn upin writing with intention to publish for the general good, and it ishoped he may now have leisure to finish them. _" It is possible that thewords in italics were the cause of Voltaire's astounding statement:"Plusieurs curieux ont encore le petit livre que ce Chancelier composaen faveur de la Polygamie. " On this point Lord Campbell, confidentlyadvancing an opinion which can scarcely command unanimous assent, says, "The fable of the '_Treatise_' is evidently taken from the panegyric on'a plurality of wives, ' which Mrs. Manley puts into the mouth of LordCowper, in a speech supposed to be addressed by Hernando to Lousia. " Butwhether Voltaire accepted the 'New Atalantis, ' or the _Examiner_, as anauthority for the statements of his very laughable passage, it isscarcely credible that he believed himself to be penning the truth. Themost reasonable explanation of the matter appears to be, that tickledby Swift's venomous lines, the sarcastic Frenchman in malice and gaietyadopted them, and added to their piquancy by the assurance that theChancellor's book was not only published, but was preserved byconnoisseurs as a literary curiosity. 

Like his elder brother, the Chancellor, Spencer Cowper married at anearly age, lived to wed a second wife, and was accused of immoralitythat was foreign to his nature. The offence with which the youngerCowper was charged, created so wide and profound a sensation, and gaverise to such a memorable trial, that the reader will like to glance atthe facts of the case. 

Born in 1669, Spencer Cowper was scarcely of age when he was called tothe bar, and made Comptroller of the Bridge House Estate. The office, which was in the gift of the corporation of London, provided him with agood income, together with a residence in the Bridge House, St. Olave's, Southwark, and brought him in contact with men who were able to bringhim briefs or recommend him to attorneys. For several years theboy-barrister was thought a singularly lucky fellow. His hospitablehouse was brightened by a young and lovely wife (Pennington, thedaughter of John Goodeve), and he was so much respected in his localitythat he was made a justice of the peace. In his profession he wasequally fortunate: his voice was often heard at Westminster and on theHome Circuit, the same circuit where his brother William practised andhis family interest lay. He found many clients. 

Envy is the shadow of success; and the Cowpers were watched by men wholonged to ruin them. From the day when they armed and rode forth towelcome the Prince of Orange, the lads had been notably fortunate. Notwithstanding his reputation for immorality William Cowper had sprunginto lucrative practice, and in 1695 was returned to Parliament asrepresentative for Hartford, the other seat for the borough being filledby his father, Sir William Cowper. 

In spite of their comeliness and complaisant manners, the lightness oftheir wit and the _prestige_ of their success, Hertford heard murmursthat the young Cowpers were _too_ lucky by half, and that the Cowperinterest was dangerously powerful in the borough. It was averred thatthe Cowpers were making unfair capital out of liberal professions: andwhen the Hertford Whigs sent the father and son to the House of Commons, the vanquished party cursed in a breath the Dutch usurper and hisobsequious followers. 

It was resolved to damage the Cowpers:--by fair means or foul, to renderthem odious in their native town. 

Ere long the malcontents found a good cry. 

Scarcely less odious to the Hertford Tories than the Cowpers themselveswas an influential Quaker of the town, named Stout, who activelysupported the Cowper interest. A man of wealth and good repute, thisfollower of George Fox exerted himself enthusiastically in the electioncontest of 1695: and in acknowledgment of his services the Cowpershonored him with their personal friendship. Sir William Cowper asked himto dine at Hertford Castle--the baronet's country residence; SirWilliam's sons made calls on his wife and daughter. Of course theseattentions from Cowpers to 'the Shaker' were offensive to the Torymagnates of the place: and they vented their indignation in whispers, that the young men never entered Stout's house without kissing hispretty daughter. 

While these rumors were still young, Mr. Stout died leaving considerableproperty to his widow, and to his only child--the beauteous Sarah; andafter his death the intercourse between the two families became yet moreclose and cordial. The lawyers advised the two ladies about themanagement of their property: and the baronet gave them invitations tohis London House in Hatton Garden, as well as to Hertford Castle. Thefriendship had disastrous consequences. Both the brothers were veryfascinating men--men, moreover, who not only excelled in the art ofpleasing, but who also habitually exercised it. From custom, inclination, policy, they were very kind to the mother and daughter;probably paying the latter many compliments which they would never haveuttered had they been single men. Coming from an unmarried man thespeech is often significant of love, which on the lips of a husband isbut the language of courtesy. But, unfortunately, Miss ('Mistress' isher style in the report of a famous trial) Sarah Stout fell madly inlove with Spencer Cowper notwithstanding the impossibility of marriage. 

Not only did she conceive a dangerous fondness for him, but she openlyexpressed it--by speech and letters. She visited him in the Temple, andpersecuted him with her embarrassing devotion whenever he came toHertford. It was a trying position for a young man not thirty years ofage, with a wife to whom he was devotedly attached, and a family whosepolitical influence in his native town might be hurt by publication ofthe girl's folly. Taking his elder brother into his confidence, he askedwhat course he ought to pursue. To withdraw totally and abruptly fromthe two ladies, would be cruel to the daughter, insulting to the mother;moreover, it would give rise to unpleasant suspicions and prejudicialgossip in the borough. It was decided that Spencer must repress thegirl's advances--must see her loss frequently--and, by a reserved andfrigid manner, must compel her to assume an appearance of womanlydiscretion. But the plan failed. 

At the opening of the year 1699 she invited him to take up his quartersin her mother's house, when he came to Hertford at the next SpringAssizes. This invitation he declined, saying that he had arranged totake his brother's customary lodgings in the house of Mr. Barefoot, inthe Market Place, but with manly consideration he promised to call uponher. "I am glad, " Sarah wrote to him on March 5, 1699, "you have notquite forgot there is such a person as I in being: but I am willing toshut my eyes and not see anything that looks like unkindness in you, andrather content myself with what excuses you are pleased to make, than beinquisitive into what I must not know: I am sure the winter has been toounpleasant for me to desire the continuance of it: and I wish you wereto endure the sharpness of it but for one short hour, as I have done formany long nights and days, and then I believe it would move that rockyheart of yours that can be so thoughtless of me as you are. "

On Monday, March 13, following the date of the words just quoted, Spencer Cowper rode into Hertford, alighted at Mrs. Stout's house, anddined with the ladies. Having left the house after dinner, in order thathe might attend to some business, he returned in the evening and suppedwith the two women. Supper over, Mrs. Stout retired for the night, leaving her daughter and the young barrister together. No sooner had themother left the room, than a distressing scene ensued. 

Unable to control or soothe her, Spencer gently divided the clasp of herhands, and having freed himself from her embrace, hastened from the roomand abruptly left the house. He slept at his lodgings; and the nextmorning he was horror-struck on hearing that Sarah Stout's body had beenfound drowned in the mill-stream behind her old home. That catastrophehad actually occurred. Scarcely had the young barrister reached theMarket Place, when the miserable girl threw herself into the stream fromwhich her lifeless body was picked on the following morning. At thecoroner's inquest which ensued, Spencer Cowper gave his evidence withextreme caution, withholding every fact that could be injurious toSarah's reputation; and the jury returned a verdict that the deceasedgentlewoman had killed herself whilst in a state of insanity. 

In deep dejection Spencer Cowper continued the journey of the circuit. 

But the excitement of the public was not allayed by the inquest andsubsequent funeral. It was rumored that it was no case of self-murder, but a case of murder by the barrister, who had strangled his dishonoredvictim, and had then thrown her into the river. Anxious to save theirsect from the stigma of suicide the Quakers concurred with the Tories incharging the young man with a hideous complication of crimes. The caseagainst Spencer was laid before Chief Justice Holt, who at firstdismissed the accusation as absurd, but was afterwards induced to committhe suspected man for trial; and in the July of 1699 the charge actuallycame before a jury at the Hertford Assizes. Four prisoners--SpencerCowper, two attorneys, and a law-writer--were placed in the dock on thecharge of murdering Sarah Stout. 

On the present occasion there is no need to recapitulate the ridiculousevidence and absurd misconduct of the prosecution in this trial; thoughcriminal lawyers who wish to know what unfairness and irregularitieswere permitted in such inquiries in the seventeenth century cannot dobetter than to peruse the full report of the proceedings, which may befound in every comprehensive legal library. In this place it is enoughto say that though the accusation was not sustained by a shadow oflegal testimony, the prejudice against the prisoners, both on the partof a certain section of the Hertford residents and the presiding judge, Mr. Baron Hatsel, was such that the verdict for acquittal was adisappointment to many who heard it proclaimed by the foreman of thejury. Narcissus Luttrell, indeed, says that the verdict was "to thesatisfaction of the auditors;" but in this statement the diarist wasunquestionably wrong, so far as the promoters of the prosecution wereconcerned. Instead of accepting the decision without demur, theyattempted to put the prisoners again on their trial by the obsoleteprocess of "appeal of murder;" but this endeavor proving abortive, thecase was disposed of, and the prisoners' minds set at rest. 

The barrister who was thus tried on a capital charge, and narrowlyescaped a sentence that would have consigned him to an ignominiousdeath, resumed his practice in the law courts, sat in the House ofCommons and rose to be a judge in the Court of Common Pleas. It is saidthat he "presided on many trials for murder; ever cautious andmercifully inclined--remembering the great peril which he himself hadundergone. "

The same writer who aspersed Somers with her unchaste thoughts, andreiterated the charge of bigamy against Lord Chancellor Cowper, did notomit to give a false and malicious version to the incidents which hadacutely wounded the fine sensibilities of the younger Cowper. But enoughnotice has been taken of the 'New Atalantis' in this chapter. To thatrepulsive book we refer those readers who may wish to peruse Mrs. Manley's account of Sarah Stout's death. 

A distorted tradition of Sarah Stout's tragic end, and of Lord Cowper'simputed bigamy, was contributed to an early number of the 'European' bya clerical authority--the Rev. J. Hinton, Rector of Alderton, inNorthamptonshire. "Mrs. Sarah Stout, " says the writer, "whose death wascharged upon Spencer Cowper, was strangled accidentally by drawing thesteenkirk too tight upon her neck, as she, with four or five youngpersons, were at a game of romp upon the staircase; but it was not doneby Mr. Cowper, though one of the company. Mrs. Clavering, LordChancellor Cowper's second wife, whom he married during the life of hisfirst, was there too; they were so confounded with the accident, thatthey foolishly resolved to throw her into the water, thinking it wouldpass that she had drowned herself. " This charming paragraph illustratesthe vitality of scandal, and at the same time shows how ludicrouslyrumor and tradition mistell stories in the face of evidence. 

Spencer Cowper's second son, the Rev. John Cowper, D. D. , was the fatherof William Cowper, the poet. 

CHAPTER XI. 

EARLY MARRIAGES. 

Notwithstanding his illustrious descent, Simon Harcourt raised himselfto the woolsack by his own exertions, and was in no degree indebted topowerful relatives for his elevation. The son of a knight, whose loyaltyto the House of Stuart had impoverished his estate, he spent hisstudent-days at Pembroke, Oxford, and the Inner Temple, in resolutelabor, and with few indulgences. His father could make him but a slenderallowance; and when he assumed the gown of a barrister, the futureChancellor, like Erskine in after years, was spurred to industry by thevoices of his wife and children. Whilst he was still an undergraduate ofthe university, he fell in love with Rebecca Clark, daughter of a piousman, of whose vocation the modern peerages are ashamed. Sir PhilipHarcourt (the Chancellor's father) in spite of his loyalty quarrelledwith the Established Church, and joined the Presbyterians: and ThomasClark was his Presbyterian chaplain, secretary, and confidentialservant. Great was Sir Philip's wrath on learning that his boy had notonly fallen in love with Rebecca Clark, but had married her privately. It is probable that the event lowered the worthy knight's esteem for thePresbyterian system; but as anger could not cut the nuptial bond, thefather relented--gave the young people all the assistance he could, andhoped that they would live long without repenting their folly. The matchturned out far better than the old knight feared. Taking his humblebride to modest chambers, young Harcourt applied sedulously to the studyof the law; and his industry was rewarded by success, and by thegratitude of a dutiful wife. In unbroken happiness they lived togetherfor a succession of years, and their union was fruitful of children. 

Harcourt fared better with his love-match than Sergeant Hill with hisheiress, Miss Medlycott of Cottingham, Northamptonshire. On the morningof his wedding the eccentric sergeant, having altogether forgotten hismost important engagement for the day, received his clients in chambersafter his usual practice, and remained busy with professional caresuntil a band of devoted friends forcibly carried him to the church, where his bride had been waiting for him more than an hour. The ceremonyhaving been duly performed, he hastened back to his chambers, to bepresent at a consultation. Notwithstanding her sincere affection forhim, the lady proved but an indifferent wife to the black-letter lawyer. Empowered by Act of Parliament to retain her maiden-name aftermarriage, she showed her disesteem for her husband's patronymic by hermode of exercising the privilege secured to her by special law; and manya time the sergeant indignantly insisted that she should use his name inher signatures. "My name is Hill, madam; my father's name was Hill, madam; all the Hills have been named Hill, madam; Hill is a goodname--and by ----, madam, you _shall_ use it. " On other matters he wasmore compliant--humoring her old-maidish fancies in a most docile andconciliating manner. Curiously neat and orderly, Mrs. Medlycott tookgreat pride in the faultlessness of her domestic arrangements, so far ascleanliness and precise order were concerned. To maintain the whitenessof the pipe-clayed steps before the front door of her Bedford Squaremansion was a chief object of her existence; and to gratify her in thisparticular, Sergeant Hill use daily to leave his premises by the kitchensteps. Having outlived the lady, Hill observed to a friend who wascondoling with him on his recent bereavement, "Ay, my poor wife is gone!She was a good sort of woman--in _her_ way a _very_ good sort of woman. I do honestly declare my belief that in _her_ way she had no equal. But--but--I'll tell you something in confidence. If ever I marry again, _I won't marry merely for money_. " The learned sergeant died in hisninety-third year without having made a second marriage. 

Like Harcourt, John Scott married under circumstances that called forthmany warm expressions of censure; and like Harcourt, he, in after life, reflected on his imprudent marriage as one of the most fortunate stepsof his earlier career. The romance of the law contains few more pleasantepisodes than the story of handsome Jack Scott's elopement with BessieSurtees. There is no need to tell in detail how the comely Oxfordscholar danced with the banker's daughter at the Newcastle assemblies;how his suit was at first recognised by the girl's parents, although theScotts were but rich 'fitters, ' whereas Aubone Surtees, Esquire, was abanker and gentleman of honorable descent; how, on the appearance of anaged and patrician suitor for Bessie's hand, papa and mamma told JackScott not to presume on their condescension, and counseled Bessie tothrow her lover over and become the lady of Sir William Blackett; howBessie was faithful, and Jack was urgent; how they had secret interviewson Tyne-side and in London, meeting clandestinely on horseback and onfoot, corresponding privately by letters and confidential messengers;how, eventually, the lovers, to the consternation of 'good society' inNewcastle, were made husband and wife at Blackshiels, North Britain. Whois ignorant of the story? Does not every visitor to Newcastle pausebefore an old house in Sandhill, and look up at the blue pane whichmarks the window from which Bessie descended into her lover's arms?

Jack and Bessie were not punished with even that brief period ofsuffering and uncertainty which conscientious novelists are accustomed, for the sake of social morals, to assign to run-away lovers before themerciful guardian or tender parent promises forgiveness and a liberalallowance, paid in quarterly installments. In his old age Eldon used tomaintain that their plight was very pitiable on the third morning aftertheir rash union. "Our funds were exhausted: we had not a home to go to, and we knew not whether our friends would ever speak to us again. " Inthis strain ran the veteran's story, which, like all other anecdotesfrom the same source, must be received with caution. But even the oldpeer, ever ready to exaggerate his early difficulties, had not enougheffrontery to represent that their dejection lasted more than threedays. The fathers of the bride and bridegroom soon met and came toterms, and with the beginning of the new year Bessie Scott was living inNew Inn Hall, Oxford, whilst her husband read Vinerian Lectures, andpresided over that scholastic house. The position of Scott at this timewas very singular. He was acting as substitute for Sir Robert Chambers, the principal of New Inn Hall and Vinerian Professor of Law, whocontrived to hold his university preferments, whilst he discharged theduties of a judge in India. To give an honest color to this indefensiblearrangement, it was provided that the lectures read from the VinerianChair should actually be written by the Professor, although they weredelivered by deputy. Scott, therefore, as the Professor's mouth-piece, on a salary of £60 a year, with free quarters in the Principal's house, was merely required to read a series of treatises sent to him by theabsent teacher. "The law-professor, " the ex-Chancellor used to relatewith true Eldonian humor and _fancy_--"sent me the first lecture, whichI had to read immediately to the students, and which I began withoutknowing a single word that was in it. It was upon the statute (4 and 5P. And M. C. 8), 'of young men running away with maidens. ' Fancy mereading, with about 140 boys and young men all giggling at theProfessor! Such a tittering audience no one ever had. " If this incidentreally occurred on the occasion of his 'first reading, ' the laughtermust have been inextinguishable; for, of course, Jack Scott's run-awaymarriage had made much gossip in Oxford Common Rooms, and the singularloveliness of his girlish wife (described by an eye-witness as being "sovery young as to give the impression of childhood, ") stirred the heartof every undergraduate who met her in High Street. 

There is no harm done by laughter at the old Chancellor's romanticfictions about the poverty which he and his Bessie encountered, hand inhand, at the outset of life; for the laughter blinds no one to thegenuine affection and wholesome honesty of the young husband and wife. One has reason to wish that marriages such as theirs were more frequentamongst lawyers in these ostentatious days. At present the youngbarrister, who marries before he has a clear fifteen hundred a year, ischarged with reckless imprudence; and unless his wife is a woman offortune, or he is able to settle a heavy sum of money upon her, hisanxious friends terrify him with pictures of want and sorrow stored upfor him in the future. Society will not let him live after the fashionof 'juniors' eighty or a hundred years since. He must maintain twoestablishments--his chambers for business, his house in the west-end oftown for his wife. Moreover, the lady must have a brougham and liberalpin money, or four or five domestic servants and a drawing-room wellfurnished with works of art and costly decorations. They must give statedinners and three or four routs every season; and in all other matterstheir mode of life must be, or seem to be, that of the upper tenthousand. Either they must live in this style, or be pushed aside andforgotten. The choice for them lies between very expensive society ornone at all--that is to say, none at all amongst the rising members ofthe legal profession, and the sort of people with whom young barristers, from prudential motives, wish to form acquaintance. Doubtless many afair reader of this page is already smiling at the writer's simplicity, and is saying to herself, "Here is one of the advocates of marriage onthree hundred a year. "

But this writer is not going to advocate marriage on that or any otherparticular sum. From personal experience he knows what comfort a marriedman may have for an outlay of three or four hundred per annum; and frompersonal observation he knows what privations and ignominious povertyare endured by unmarried men who spend twice the larger of those sumson chamber-and-club life. He knows that there are men who shiver at thebare thought of losing caste by marriage with a portionless girl, whilstthey are complacently leading the life which, in nine cases out of ten, terminates in the worst form of social degradation--matrimony where thehusband blushes for his wife's early history, and dares not tell his ownchildren the date of his marriage certificate. If it were his pleasurehe could speak sad truths about the bachelor of modest income, who isrich enough to keep his name on the books of two fashionable clubs, tolive in a good quarter of London, and to visit annually continentalcapitals, but far too poor to think of incurring the responsibilities ofmarriage. It could be demonstrated that in a great majority of instancesthis wary, prudent, selfish gentleman, instead of being the socialsuccess which many simple people believe him, is a signal and mostmiserable failure; that instead of pursuing a career of variousenjoyments and keen excitements, he is a martyr to _ennui_, bored by themonotony of an objectless existence, utterly weary of the splendidclubs, in which he is presumed by unsophisticated admirers to find anample compensation for want of household comfort and domestic affection:that as soon as he has numbered forty years, he finds the roll of hisfriends and cordial acquaintances diminish, and is compelled to retirebefore younger men, who snatch from his grasp the prizes of socialrivalry; and that, as each succeeding lustre passes, he finds the chainof his secret disappointments and embarrassments more galling and heavy. 

It is not a question of marriage on three hundred a year withoutprospects, but a marriage on five or six hundred a year with goodexpectations. In the Inns of Court there are, at the present time, scores of clever, industrious fine-hearted gentlemen who have sureincomes of three or four hundred pounds per annum. In Tyburnia andKensington there is an equal number of young gentlewomen with incomesvarying between £150 and £300 a year. These men and women see each otherat balls and dinners, in the parks and at theatres; the ladies would notdislike to be wives, the men are longing to be husbands. But thathideous tyrant, social opinion, bids them avoid marriage. 

In Lord Eldon's time the case was otherwise. Society saw nothingsingular or reprehensible in his conduct when he brought Bessie to livein the little house in Cursitor Street. No one sneered at the younglaw-student, whose home was a little den in a dingy thoroughfare. At alater date, the rising junior, whose wife lived over his businesschambers in Carey Street, was the object of no unkind criticism becausehis domestic arrangements were inexpensive, and almost frugal. Had hissuccess been tardy instead of quick and decisive, and had circumstancescompelled him to live under the shadow of Lincoln's Inn wall for thirtyyears on a narrow income, he would not on that account have sufferedfrom a single disparaging criticism. Amongst his neighbors in adjacentstreets, and within the boundaries of his Inn, he would have foundsociety for himself and wife, and playmates for his children. Goodfortune coming in full strong flood, he was not compelled to greatlychange his plan of existence. Even in those days, when costlyostentation characterized aristocratic society--he was permitted to livemodestly--and lay the foundation of that great property which hetransmitted to his ennobled descendants. 

When satire has done its worst with the miserly propensities of thegreat lawyer and his wife, their long familiar intercourse exhibits awealth of fine human affection and genuine poetry which sarcasm cannottouch. Often as he had occasion to regret Lady Eldon's peculiarities--thestinginess which made her grudge the money paid for a fish or a basket offruit; the nervous repugnance to society, which greatly diminished hispopularity; and the taste for solitude and silence which marked herpainfully towards the close of her life--the Chancellor never even hintedto her his dissatisfaction. When their eldest daughter, following hermother's example, married without the permission of her parents, it wassuggested to Lord Eldon that her ladyship ought to take better care ofher younger daughter, Lady Frances, and entering society should play thepart of a vigilant _chaperon_. The counsel was judicious; but theChancellor declined to act upon it, saying, --"When she was young andbeautiful, she gave up everything for me. What she is, I have made her;and I cannot now bring myself to compel her inclinations. Our marriageprevented her mixing in society when it afforded her pleasure; itappears to give pain now, and why should I interpose?" In his old age, when she was dead, he visited his estate in Durham, but could notfind heart to cross the Tyne bridge and look at the old house fromwhich he took her in the bloom and tenderness of her girlhood. Anurgent invitation to visit Newcastle drew from him the reply--"Iknow my fellow-townsmen complain of my not coming to see them; but_how can I pass that bridge?_" After a pause, he added, "Poor Bessie!if ever there was an angel on earth she was one. The only reparationwhich one man can make to another for running away with his daughter, is to be exemplary in his conduct towards her. "

In pecuniary affairs not less prudent than his brother, Lord Stowell inmatters of sentiment was capable of indiscretion. In the long list oflegal loves there are not many episodes more truly ridiculous than thestory of the older Scott's second marriage. On April 10, 1813, thedecorous Sir William Scott, and Louisa Catharine, widow of John, Marquis of Sligo, and daughter of Admiral Lord Howe, were united in thebonds of holy wedlock, to the infinite amusement of the world offashion, and to the speedy humiliation of the bridegroom. So incensedwas Lord Eldon at his brother's folly, that he refused to appear at thewedding; and certainly the Chancellor's displeasure was not withoutreason, for the notorious absurdity of the affair brought ridicule onthe whole of the Scott family connexion. The happy couple met for thefirst time in the Old Bailey, when Sir William Scott and LordEllenborough presided at the trial of the marchioness's son, the youngMarquis of Sligo, who had incurred the anger of the law by luring intohis yacht, in Mediterranean waters, two of the king's seamen. Throughoutthe hearing of that _cause célèbre_, the marchioness sat in the fetidcourt of the Old Bailey, in the hope that her presence might rouseamongst the jury or in the bench feelings favorable to her son. Thishope was disappointed. The verdict having been given against the youngpeer, he was ordered to pay a fine of £5000, and undergo four months'incarceration in Newgate, and--worse than fine and imprisonment--wascompelled to listen to a parental address from Sir William Scott on theduties and responsibilities of men of high station. Either under theinfluence of sincere admiration for the judge, or impelled by desire forvengeance on the man who had presumed to lecture her son in a court ofjustice, the marchioness wrote a few hasty words of thanks to SirWilliam Scott for his salutary exhortation to her boy. She even went sofar as to say that she wished the erring marquis could always have sowise a counsellor at his side. This communication was made upon a slipof paper, which the writer sent to the judge by an usher of the court. Sir William read the note as he sat on the bench, and having lookedtowards the fair scribe, he received from her a glance and smile thatwere fruitful of much misery to him. Within four months the courteousSir William Scott was tied fast to a beautiful, shrill, volubletermagant, who exercised marvellous ingenuity in rendering him wretchedand contemptible. Reared in a stately school of old-world politeness, the unhappy man was a model of decorum and urbanity. He took reasonablepride in the perfection of his tone and manner; and themarchioness--whose malice did not lack cleverness--was never more happythan when she was gravely expostulating with him, in the presence ofnumerous auditors, on his lamentable want of style, tact, andgentlemanlike bearing. It is said that, like Coke and Holt under similarcircumstances, Sir William preferred the quietude of his chambers to thesociety of an unruly wife, and that in the cellar of his Inn he soughtcompensation for the indignities and sufferings which he endured athome. Fifty years since the crusted port of the Middle Temple couldsoothe the heart at night, without paining the head in the morning. 

PART III. 

MONEY. 

CHAPTER XII. 

FEES TO COUNSEL. 

From time immemorial popular satire has been equally ready to fix theshame of avarice upon Divinity Physic, and Law; and it cannot be deniedthat in this matter the sarcasms of the multitude are often sustained bythe indisputable evidence of history. The greed of the clergy for tithesand dues is not more widely proverbial than the doctor's thirst forfees, or the advocate's readiness to support injustice for the sake ofgain. Of Guyllyam of Horseley, physician to Charles VI. Of France, Froissart says, "All his dayes he was one of the greatest nygardes thatever was;" and the chronicler adds, "With this rodde lightly allphysicians are beaten. " In his address to the sergeants who were calledsoon after his elevation to the Marble Chair, the Lord Keeper Puckering, directing attention to the grasping habits which too frequentlydisgraced the leaders of the bar, observed: "I am to exhort you also notto embrace multitude of causes, or to undertake more places of hearingcauses than you are well able to consider of or perform, lest therebyyou either disappoint your clients when their causes be heard, or comeunprovided, or depart when their causes be in hearing. For it is allone not to come, as either to come unprovided, or depart before it beended. " Notwithstanding Lingard's able defence of the Cardinal, scholarsare still generally of opinion that Beaufort--the Chancellor who lentmoney on the king's crown, the bishop who sold the Pope's soldiers for athousand marks--is a notable instance of the union of legal covetousnessand ecclesiastical greed. 

The many causes which affect the value of money in different ages createinfinite perplexity for the antiquarian who wishes to estimate theprosperity of the bar in past times; but the few disjointed data, thatcan be gathered from old records, create an impression that in thefourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the ordinary fees ofeminent counsel were by no means exorbitant, although fortunatepractitioners could make large incomes. 

Dugdale's 'Baronage' describes with delightful quaintness William deBeauchamp's interview with his lawyers when that noble (on the death ofJohn Hastings, Earl of Pembroke, _temp. _ Richard II. , without issue), claimed the earl's estates under an entail, in opposition to EdwardHastings, the earl's heir-male of the half-blood. "Beauchamp, " saysDugdale, "invited his learned counsel to his house in Paternoster Row, in the City of London; amongst whom were Robert Charlton (then a judge), William Pinchbek, William Branchesley, and John Catesby (all learnedlawyers); and after dinner, coming out of his chapel, in an angry mood, threw to each of them a piece of gold, and said, 'Sirs, I desire youforthwith to tell me whether I have any right or title to Hastings'lordship and lands. ' Whereupon Pinchbek stood up (the rest being silent, fearing that he suspected them), and said, 'No man here nor in Englanddare say that you have any right in them, except Hastings do quit hisclaim therein; and should he do it, being now under age, it would be ofno validitie. '" Had Charlton, the Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, taken gold for his opinion on a case put before him in his judicialcharacter, he would have violated his judicial oath. But in the earl'shouse in Paternoster Row he was merely a counsellor learned in the law, not a judge. Manifest perils attend a system which permits a judge inhis private character to give legal opinions concerning causes on whichhe may be required to give judgment from the bench; but notwithstandingthose perils, there is no reason for thinking that Charlton on thisoccasion either broke law or etiquette. The fair inference from thematter is, that in the closing years of the fourteenth century judgeswere permitted to give opinions for money to their private clients, although they were forbidden to take gold or silver from any personhaving "plea or process hanging before them. "

In the year of our Lord 1500 the corporation of Canterbury paid foradvice regarding their civic interests 3_s. _ 4_d. _ to each of threesergeants, and gave the Recorder of London 6_s. _ 8_d. _ as aretaining-fee. Five years later, Mr. Serjeant Wood received a fee of10_s. _ from the Goldsmiths' Company; and it maybe fairly assumed, thatso important and wealthy a body paid the sergeant on a liberal scale. Inthe sixteenth century it was, and for several generations had been, customary for clients to provide food and drink for their counsel. Mr. Foss gives his readers the following list of items, taken from a bill ofcosts, made in the reign of Edward IV. :--

 _s. _ _d. _For a breakfast at Westminster spent on our counsel 1 6

To another time for boat-hire in and out, and a breakfast for two days 1 6

In like manner the accountant of St. Margaret's, Westminster, entered inthe parish books, "Also, paid to Roger Fylpott, learned in the law, forhis counsel given, 3_s. _ 8_d. _, with 4_d. _ for his dinner. "

A yet more remarkable custom was that which enabled clients to hirecounsel to plead for them at certain places, for a given time, inwhatever causes their eloquence might be required. There still existsthe record of an agreement by which, in the reign of Henry VII. , Sergeant Yaxley bound himself to attend the assizes at York, Nottinghamand Derby, and speak in court at each of those places, whenever hisclient, Sir Robert Plumpton--"that perpetual and always unfortunatelitigant, " as he is called by Sergeant Manning--required him to do so. This interesting document runs thus--"This bill, indented at London the18th day of July, the 16th yeare of the reigne of King Henry the 7th, witnesseth that John Yaxley, Sergeant-at-Law, shall be at the nextassizes to be holden at York, Nottin. , and Derb. , if they be holden andkept, and there to be of council with Sir Robert Plumpton, knight, suchassizes and actions as the said Sir Robert shall require the said JohnYaxley, for the which premises, as well as for his costs and hislabours, John Pulan, gentleman, bindeth him by thease presents tocontent and pay to the said John Yaxley 40 marks sterling at the feastof the Nativetie of our Lady next coming, or within eight days nextfollowing, with 5 li paid aforehand, parcell of paiment of the said 40marks. Provided alway that if the said John Yaxley have knowledg andwarning only to cum to Nottin. And Derby, then the said John Yaxley isagread by these presents to take only xv li besides the 5 li aforesaid. Provided alwaies that if the said John Yaxley have knowledg and warningto take no labour in this matter, then he to reteine and hold the said 5li resaived for his good will and labour. In witness hereof, the saidJohn Yaxley, serjeant, to the part of this indenture remaining with thesaid John Pulan have put his seale the day and yeare above-written. Provided also that the said Robert Plumpton shall beare the charges ofthe said John Yaxley, as well at York as at Nottingham and Derby, andalso to content and pay the said money to the said John Yaxley comed tothe said assizes att Nott. , Derb. , and York. JOHN YAXLEY. "

This remarkable agreement--made after Richard III. Had vainly endeavoredto compose by arbitration the differences between Sir Robert and SirRobert's heir-general--certifies that Sir Robert Plumpton engaged toprovide the sergeant with suitable entertainment at the assize towns, and also throws light upon the origin of retaining-fees. It appears fromthe agreement that in olden time a retaining fee was merely part(surrendered in advance) of a certain sum stipulated to be paid forcertain services. In principle it was identical with the payment of theshilling, still given in rural districts, to domestic servants on anagreement for service, and with the transfer of the queen's shillinggiven to every soldier on enlistment. There is no need to mention theclassic origin of this ancient mode of giving force to a contract. 

From the 'Household and Privy Purse Expenses of the Le Stranges ofHunstanton, ' published in the Archæologia, may be gleamed someinteresting particulars relating to the payment of counsel in the reignof Henry VIII. In 1520, Mr. Cristofer Jenney received from the LeStranges a half-yearly fee of ten shillings; and this general retainerwas continued on the same terms till 1527, when the fee was raised from£1 per annum to a yearly payment of £2 13_s. _ 4_d. _ To Mr. Knightley waspaid the sum of 8_s. _ 11_d. _ "for his fee, and that money yt he laydeoute for suying of Simon Holden;" and the same lawyer also received atanother time 14_s. _ 3_d. _ "for his fee and cost of sute for iii termes. "A fee of 6_s. _ 8_d. _ was paid to "Mr. Spelman, s'jeant, for his counsellin makyng my answer in ye Duchy Cham. ;" and the same serjeant receiveda fee of 3_s. _ 4_d. _ "for his counsell in putting in of the answer. "Fees of 3_s. _ 4_d. _ were in like manner given "for counsell" to Mr. Knightley and Mr. Whyte; and in 1534, Mr. Yelverton was remunerated "forhis counsell" with the unusually liberal honorarium of twenty shillings. From the household book of the Earl of Northumberland, it appears thatorder was made, in this same reign, for "every oone of my lordescounsaill to have c's. Fees, if he have it in household and not bypatent. " After the earl's establishment was reduced to forty-twopersons, it still retained "one of my lordes counsaill for annsweringand riddying of causes, whenne sutors cometh to my lord. " At a time whenevery lord was required to administer justice to his tenants and theinferior people of his territory, a counsellor learned in the law, wasan important and most necessary officer in a grand seigneur's retinue. 

Whilst Sir Thomas More lived in Bucklersbury, he "gained, without grief, not so little as £400 by the year. " This income doubtless accrued fromthe emoluments of his judicial appointment in the City, as well as fromhis practice at Westminster and elsewhere. In Henry VIII. 's time it wasa very considerable income, such as was equalled by few leaders of thebar not holding high office under the Crown. 

In Elizabeth's reign, and during the time of her successor, barristers'fees show a tendency toward increase; and the lawyers who were employedas advocates for the Crown, or held judicial appointments, acquiredprincely incomes, and in some cases amassed large fortunes. Fees of20_s. _ were more generally paid to counsel under the virgin queen, thanin the days of her father; but still half that fee was not thought toosmall a sum for an opinion given by Her Majesty's Solicitor General. Indeed, the ten-shilling fee was a very usual fee in Elizabeth's reign;and it long continued an ordinary payment for one opinion on a case, orfor one speech in a cause of no great importance and of fewdifficulties. 'A barrister is like Balaam's ass, only speaking when hesees the angel, ' was a familiar saying in the seventeenth century. InChancery, however, by an ordinance of the Lords Commissioners passed in1654, to regulate the conduct of suits and the payments to masters, counsel, and solicitors, it was arranged that on the hearing of a cause, utter-barristers should receive £1 fees, whilst the Lord Protector'scounsel and sergeants-at-law should receive £2 fees, _i. E. _, 'doublefees. '

The archives of Lyme Regis show that under Elizabeth the usage wasmaintained of supplying counsel with delicacies of the table, and alsoof providing them with means of locomotion. Here are some items in anold record of disbursements made by the corporation of LymeRegis:--"A. D. Paid for Wine carried with us to Mr. Poulett--£0 3_s. _6_d. _; Wine and sugar given to Mr. Poulett, £0 3_s. _ 4_d. _; Horse-hire, and for the Sergeant to ride to Mr. Walrond, of Bovey, and for a loaf ofsugar, and for conserves given there to Mr. Poppel, £1 1_s. _ 0_d. _; Wineand sugar given to Judge Anderson, £0 3_s. _ 4_d. _ A bottle and sugargiven to Mr. Gibbs (a lawyer). "

Under Elizabeth, the allowance made to Queen's Sergeants was £26 6_s. _8_d. _ for fee, reward, and robes; and £20. For his services whenever aQueen's Sergeant travelled circuit as Justice of Assize. The fee for herSolicitor General was £50. When Francis Bacon was created King's Counselto James I. , an annual salary of forty pounds was assigned to him fromthe royal purse; and down to William IV. 's time, King's Counsel receiveda stipend of £40 a year, and an allowance for stationery. Under the lastmentioned monarch, however, the stipend and allowance were bothwithdrawn; and at present the status of a Q. C. Is purely an affair ofprofessional precedence, to which no fixed emolument is attached. 

But a list of the fees, paid from the royal purse to each judge or crownlawyer under James I. , would afford no indication as to the incomesenjoyed by the leading members of the bench and bar at that period. Thesalaries paid to those officers were merely retaining fees, and theirchief remuneration consisted of a large number of smaller fees. Like thejudges of prior reigns, King James's judges were forbidden to accept_presents_ from actual suitors; but no suitor could obtain a hearingfrom any one of them, until he had paid into court certain fees, ofwhich the fattest was a sum of money for the judge's personal use. Atone time many persons labored under an erroneous impression, that asjudges were forbidden to accept presents from actual suitors, the honestjudge of past times had no revenue besides his specified salary andallowance. Like the king's judges, the king's counsellors frequentlymade great incomes by fees, though their nominal salaries wereinvariably insignificant. At a time when Francis Bacon was James'sAttorney General, and received no more than £81 6_s. _ 8_d. _ for hisyearly salary, he made £6000 per annum in his profession; and of thatincome--a royal income in those days--the greater portion consisted offees paid to him for attending to the king's business. "I shall now, "Bacon wrote to the king, "again make oblation to your Majesty, --first ofmy heart, then of my service; thirdly, of my place of Attorney, which Ithink is honestly worth £6000 per annum; and fourthly, of my place inthe Star Chamber, which is worth £1600 per annum, and with the favor andcountenance of a Chancellor, much more. " Coke had made a still largerincome during his tenure of the Attorney's place, the fees from hisprivate official practice amounting to no loss a sum than seventhousand pounds in a single year. 

At later periods of the seventeenth century barristers made largeincomes, but the fees seem to have been by no means exorbitant. Juniorbarristers received very modest payments, and it would appear thatjuniors received fees from eminent counsel for opinions and otherprofessional services. Whilst he acted as treasurer of the MiddleTemple, at an early period of his career, Whitelock received a fee fromAttorney General Noy. "Upon my carrying the bill, " writes Whitelock, "toMr. Attorney General Noy for his signature, with that of the otherbenchers, he was pleased to advise with me about a patent the king hadcommanded him to draw, upon which he gave me a fee for it out of hislittle purse, saying, 'Here, take those single pence, ' which amounted toeleven groats, 'and I give you more than an attorney's fee, because youwill be a better man than the Attorney General. This you will find to betrue. ' After much other drollery, wherein he delighted and excelled, weparted, abundance of company attending to speak to him all this time. "Of course the payment itself was no part of the drollery to whichWhitelock alludes, for as a gentleman he could not have taken moneyproffered to him in jest, unless etiquette encouraged him to look forit, and allowed him to accept it. The incident justifies the inferencethat the services of junior counsel to senior barristers--services atthe present time termed 'devilling'--were formerly remunerated with cashpayments. 

Toward the close of Charles I. 's reign--at a time when politicaldistractions were injuriously affecting the legal profession, especiallythe staunch royalists of the long robe--Maynard, the Parliamentarylawyer, received on one round of the Western Circuit, £700, "which, "observes Whitelock, to whom Maynard communicated the fact, "I believewas more than any one of our profession got before. "

Concerning the incomes made by eminent counsel in Charles II. 's time, many _data_ are preserved in diaries and memoirs. That a thousand a yearwas looked upon as a good income for a flourishing practitioner of the'merry monarch's' Chancery bar, may be gathered from a passage in'Pepys's Diary, ' where the writer records the compliments paid to himregarding his courageous and eloquent defence of the Admiralty, beforethe House of Commons, in March, 1668. Under the influence of half-a-pintof mulled sack and a dram of brandy, the Admiralty clerk made such aspirited and successful speech in behalf of his department, that he wasthought to have effectually silenced all grumblers against themanagement of his Majesty's navy. Compliments flowed in upon the oratorfrom all directions. Sir William Coventry pledged his judgment that thefame of the oration would last for ever in the Commons; silver-tonguedSir Heneage Finch, in the blandest tones, averred that no other livingman could have made so excellent a speech; the placemen of the Admiraltyvied with each other in expressions of delight and admiration; and oneflatterer, whose name is not recorded, caused Mr. Pepys infinitepleasure by saying that the speaker who had routed the accusers of agovernment office, might easily earn a thousand a year at the Chancerybar. 

That sum, however, is insignificant when it is compared with the incomesmade by the most fortunate advocates of that period. Eminent speakers ofthe Common Law Bar made between £2000 and £3500 per annum on circuit andat Westminster, without the aid of king's business; and still largerreceipts were recorded in the fee-books of his Majesty's attorneys andsolicitors. At the Chancery bar of the second Charles, there was atleast one lawyer, who in one year made considerably more than four timesthe income that was suggested to Pepys's vanity and self-complacence. AtStanford Court, Worcestershire, is preserved a fee-book kept by SirFrancis Winnington, Solicitor-General to the 'merry monarch, ' fromDecember 1674 to January 13, 1679, from the entries of which record thereader may form a tolerably correct estimate of the professionalrevenues of successful lawyers at that time. In Easter Term, 1671, SirFrancis pocketed £459; in Trinity Term £449 10s. ; in Michaelmas Term£521; and in Hilary Term 1672, £361 10s. ; the income for the year being£1791, without his earnings on the Oxford Circuit and during vacation. In 1673, Sir Francis received £3371; in 1674, he earned £3560;[8] and in1675--_i. E. _, the first year of his tenure of the Solicitor'soffice--his professional income wars £4066, of which sum £429 wereoffice fees. Concerning the Attorney-General's receipts about this time, we have sufficient information from Roger North, who records that hisbrother, whilst Attorney General, made nearly seven thousand pounds inone year, from private and official business. It is noteworthy thatNorth, as Attorney General, made the same income which Coke realized inthe same office at the commencement of the century. But under theStuarts this large income of £7000--in those days a princelyrevenue--was earned by work so perilous and fruitful of obloquy, thateven Sir Francis, who loved money and cared little for public esteem, was glad to resign the post of Attorney and retire to the Pleas with£4000 a year. That the fees of the Chancery lawyers under Charles II. Were regulated upon a liberal scale we know from Roger North, and therecord of Sir John King's success. Speaking of his brother Francis, thebiographer says: "After he, as king's counsel, came within the bar, hebegan to have calls into the Court of Chancery; which he liked verywell, because the quantity of the business, _as well as the fees_, wasgreater; but his home was the King's Bench, where he sat and reportedlike as other practitioners. " And in Sir John King's memoirs it isrecorded that in 1676 he made £4700, and that he received from £40 to£50 a day during the last four days of his appearance in court. Dying in1677, [9] whilst his supremacy in his own court was at its height, SirJohn King was long spoken of as a singularly successful Chancerybarrister. 

Of Francis North's mode of taking and storing his fees, the 'Life ofLord Keeper Guildford' gives the following picture: "His businessincreased, even while he was Solicitor, to be so much as to haveoverwhelmed one less dexterous; but when he was made Attorney General, though his gains by his office were great, they were much greater by hispractice; for that flowed in upon him like an orage, enough to oversetone that had not an extraordinary readiness in business. His skull-caps, which he wore when he had leisure to observe his constitution, as Itouched before, were now destined to lie in a drawer to receive themoney that came in by fees. One had the gold, another the crowns andhalf-crowns, and another the smaller money. When these vessels werefull, they were committed to his friend (the Hon. Roger North), who wasconstantly near him, to tell out the cash, and put it into the bagsaccording to the contents; and so they went to his treasurers, Blanchardand Child, goldsmiths, Temple Bar. "[10] In the days of wigs, skull-capslike those which Francis North used as receptacles for money, were verygenerally worn by men of all classes and employments. On returning tothe privacy of his home, a careful citizen usually laid aside his costlywig, and replaced it with a cheap and durable skull-cap, before he satdown in his parlor. So also, men careful of their health often woreskull-caps _under_ their wigs, on occasions when they were required toendure a raw atmosphere without the protection of their beavers. In dayswhen the law-courts were held in the open hall of Westminster, andlawyers practising therein, were compelled to sit or speak for hourstogether, exposed to sharp currents of cold air, it was customary forwearers of the long robe to place between their wigs and natural hairclosely-fitting caps, made of stout silk or soft leather. But moreinteresting than the money-caps, are the fees which they contained. Theringing of the gold pieces, the clink of the crowns with thehalf-crowns, and the rattle of the smaller money, led back the barristerto those happier and remote times, when the 'inferior order' of theprofession paid the superior order with 'money down;' when, the advocatenever opened his mouth till his fingers had closed upon the gold of histrustful client; when 'credit' was unknown in transactions betweencounsel and attorney;--that truly _golden_ age of the bar, when thebarrister was less suspicious of the attorney, and the attorney heldless power over the barrister. 

Having profited by the liberal payments of Chancery whilst he was anadvocate, Lord Keeper Guildford destroyed one source of profit tocounsel from which Francis North, the barrister, had drawn many a capfulof money. Saith Roger, "He began to rescind all motions for speeding anddelaying the hearing of causes besides the ordinary rule of court; andthis lopped off a limb of the motion practice. I have heard Sir JohnChurchill, a famous Chancery practitioner, say, that in his walk fromLincoln's Inn down to the Temple Hall, where, in the Lord KeeperBridgman's time, causes and motions out of term were heard, he had taken£28. With breviates only for motions and defences for hastening andretarding hearings. His lordship said, that the rule of the courtallowed time enough for any one to proceed or defend; and if, forspecial reasons, he should give way to orders for timing matters, itwould let in a deluge of vexatious pretenses, which, true or false, being asserted by the counsel with equal assurance, distracted thecourt and confounded the suitors. "

Let due honor be rendered to one Caroline, lawyer, who was remarkablefor his liberality to clients, and carelessness of his own pecuniaryinterests. From his various biographers, many pleasant stories may begleaned concerning Hale's freedom from base love of money. In his days, and long afterward, professional etiquette permitted clients and counselto hold intercourse without the intervention of an attorney. Suitors, therefore, frequently addressed him personally and paid for his advicewith their own hands, just as patients are still accustomed to fee theirdoctors. To these personal applicants, and also to clients whoapproached him by their agents, he was very liberal. "When those whocame to ask his counsel gave him a piece, he used to give back the half, and to make ten shillings his fee in ordinary matters that did notrequire much time or study. " From this it may be inferred that whilstHale was an eminent member of the bar, twenty shillings was the usualfee to a leading counsel, and an angel the customary honorarium to anordinary practitioner. As readers have already been told, the angel[11]was a common fee in the seventeenth century; but the story of Hale'sgenerous usage implies that his more distinguished contemporaries werewont to look for and accept a double fee. Moreover, the anecdote wouldnot be told in Hale's honor, if etiquette had fixed the double fee asthe minimum of remuneration for a superior barrister's opinion. He wasfrequently employed in arbitration cases, and as an arbitrator hesteadily refused payment for his services to legal disputants, saying, in explanation of his moderation, "In these cases I am made a judge, anda judge ought to take no money. " The misapprehension as to the nature ofan arbitrator's functions, displayed in these words, gives aninstructive insight into the mental constitution of the judge who wroteon natural science, and at the same time exerted himself to secure theconviction of witches. A more pleasant and commendable illustration ofhis conscientiousness in pecuniary matters, is found in the steadinesswith which he refused to throw upon society the spurious coin which hehad taken from his clients. In a tone of surprise that raises a smile atthe average morality of our forefathers, Bishop Burnet tells of Hale:"Another remarkable instance of his justice and goodness was, that whenhe found ill money had been put into his hands, he would never suffer itto be vented again; for he thought it was no excuse for him to put falsemoney in other people's hands, because some had put it into his. A greatheap of this he had gathered together, for many had so abused hisgoodness as to mix base money among the fees that were given him. " Inthis particular case, the judge's virtue was its own reward. His housebeing entered by burglars, this accumulation of bad money attracted thenotice of the robbers, who selected it from a variety of goods andchattels, and carried it off under the impression that it was thelawyer's hoarded treasure. Besides large sums expended on unusual actsof charity, this good man habitually distributed amongst the poor atithe of his professional earnings. 

In the seventeenth century, General Retainers were very common, and thecounsel learned in the law, were ready to accept them from persons oflow extraction and questionable repute. Indeed, no upstart deemedhimself properly equipped for a campaign at court, until he had recordeda fictitious pedigree at the Herald's College, taken a barrister as wellas a doctor into regular employment, and hired a curate to say gracedaily at his table. In the summer of his vile triumph, Titus Oates wasattended, on public occasions, by a robed counsel and a physician. 

[8] In his 'Survey of the State of England in 1685, ' Macauley--givingone of those misleading references with which his history abounds--says:"A thousand a year was thought a large income for a barrister. Twothousand a year was hardly to be made in the Court of King's Bench, except by crown lawyers. " Whilst making the first statement, hedoubtless remembered the passage in 'Pepys's Diary. ' For the secondstatement, he refers to 'Layton's Conversation with Chief Justice Hale. 'It is fair to assume that Lord Macauley had never seen Sir FrancisWinnington's fee-book. 

[9] In the fourth day of his fever, he being att the Chancery Bar, hefell so ill of the fever, that he was forced to leave the Court and cometo his chambers in the Temple, with one of his clerks, which constantlywayted on him and carried his bags of writings for his pleadings, andthere told him that he should return to every clyent his breviat and hisfee, for he could serve them no longer, for he had done with this world, and thence came home to his house in Salisbury Court, and took hisbed. . . . And there he sequestered himself to meditation between God andhis own soul, without the least regret, and quietly and patientlycontented himself with the will of God. --_Vide Memoir of Sir John King, Knt. , written by his Father. _

[10] The lawyers of the seventeenth century were accustomed to make ashow of their fees to the clients who called upon them. Hudibras'slawyer (Hud. , Part iii. Cant. 3) is described as sitting in state withhis books and money before him:

"To this brave man the knight repairs For counsel in his law affairs, And found him mounted in his pew, With books and money placed for shew, Like nest-eggs, to make clients lay, And for his false, opinion pay: Towhom the knight, with comely grace, Put off his hat to put his case, Which he as proudly entertain'd As the other courteously strain'd; Andto assure him 'twas not that He looked for, bid him put on's hat. "

Under Victoria, the needy junior is compelled, for the sake ofappearances, to furnish his shelves with law books, and cover his tablewith counterfeit briefs. Under the Stuarts, he placed a bowl of spuriousmoney amongst the sham papers that lay upon his table. 

[11] In the 'Serviens ad Legem, ' Mr. Sergeant Manning raises questionconcerning the antiquity of _guineas_ and half-guineas, with thefollowing remarks:--"Should any cavil be raised against this jocularallusion, on the ground that guineas and half-guineas were unknown tosergeants who flourished in the sixteenth century, the objector might bereminded, that in antique records, instances occur in which the'guianois d'or, ' issued from the ducal mint at Bordeaux, by theauthority of the Plantagenet sovereigns of Guienne, were by the sameauthority, made current among their English subjects; and it might besuggested that those who have gone to the coast of Africa for the originof the modern guinea, need not have carried their researches beyond theBay of Biscay. _Quære_, whether the Guinea Coast itself may not owe itsname to the 'guianois d'or' for which it furnished the raw material. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

RETAINERS GENERAL AND SPECIAL. 

Pemberton's fees for his services in behalf of the Seven Bishops showthat the most eminent counsel of his time were content with very modestremuneration for advice and eloquence. From the bill of an attorneyemployed in that famous trial, it appears that the ex-Chief Justice waspaid a retaining-fee of five guineas, and received twenty guineas withhis brief. He also pocketed three guineas for a consultation. At thepresent date, thirty times the sum of these paltry payments would bethought an inadequate compensation for such zeal, judgment, and abilityas Francis Pemberton displayed in the defence of his reverend clients. 

But, though lawyers were paid thus moderately in the seventeenthcentury, the complaints concerning their avarice and extortions wereloud and universal. This public discontent was due to the inordinateexactions of judges and place-holders rather than to the conduct ofbarristers and attorneys; but popular displeasure seldom cares todiscriminate between the blameless and the culpable members of anobnoxious system, or to distinguish between the errors of ancient customand the qualities of those persons who are required to carry out oldrules. Hence the really honest and useful practitioners of the lawendured a full share of the obloquy caused by the misconduct of venaljustices and corrupt officials. Counsel, attorneys, and even scrivenerscame in for abuse. It was averred that they conspired to pick the publicpocket; that eminent conveyancers not less than copying clerks, swelledtheir emoluments by knavish tricks. They would talk for the mere purposeof protracting litigation, injure their clients by vexations andbootless delays, and do their work so that they might be fed for doingit again. Draughtsmen find their clerks wrote loosely and wordily, because they were paid by the folio. "A term, " writes the quaint authorof 'Saint Hillaries Teares, ' in 1642, "so like a vacation; the primecourt, the Chancery (wherein the clerks had wont to dash their clientsout of countenance with long dashes); the examiners to take thedepositions in hyperboles, and roundabout _Robinhood_ circumstances with_saids_ and _aforesaids_, to enlarge the number of sheets. " 'Hudibras'contains, amongst other pungent satires against the usages of lawyers, an allusion to this characteristic custom of legal draughtsmen, whobeing paid by the sheet, were wont

 "To make 'twixt words and lines large gaps, Wide as meridians in maps; To squander paper and spare ink, Or cheat men of their words some think. "

In the following century the abuses consequent on the objectionablesystem of folio-payment were noticed in a parliamentary report (bearingdate November 8, 1740), which was the most important result of anineffectual attempt to reform the superior courts of law and to lessenthe expenses of litigation. 

More is known about the professional receipts of lawyers since theRevolution of 1688 than can be discovered concerning the incomes oftheir precursors in Westminster Hall. For six years, commencing withMichaelmas Term, 1719, Sir John Cheshire, King's Sergeant, made anaverage annual income of 3241_l. _ Being then sixty-three years of age, he limited his practice to the Common Pleas, and during the next sixyears made in that one court 1320_l. _ per annum. Mr. Foss, to whom thepresent writer is indebted for these particulars with regard to Sir JohnCheshire's receipts, adds: "The fees of counsel's clerks form a greatcontrast with those that are now demanded, being only threepence on afee of half-a-guinea, sixpence for a guinea, and one shilling for twoguineas. " Of course the increase of clerk's fees tells more in favor ofthe master than the servant. At the present time the clerk of abarrister in fairly lucrative practice costs his master nothing. Bountifully paid by his employer's clients, he receives no salary fromthe counsellor whom he serves; whereas, in old times, when his fees werefixed at the low rate just mentioned, the clerk could not live andmaintain a family upon them, unless his master belonged to the mostsuccessful grade of his order. 

Horace Walpole tells his readers that Charles Yorke "was reported tohave received 100, 000 guineas in fees;" but his fee-book shows that hisprofessional rise was by no means so rapid as those who knew him in hissunniest days generally supposed. The story of his growing fortunes isindicated in the following statement of successive incomes:--1st year ofpractice at the bar, 121_l. _ 2nd, 201_l. _; 3rd and 4th, between 300_l. _and 400_l. _ per annum; 5th, 700_l. _; 6th, 800_l. _; 7th, 1000_l. _; 9th, 1600_l. _; 10th, 2500_l. _ Whilst Solicitor General he made 3400_l. _ in1757; and in the following year he earned 5000_l. _ His receipts duringthe last year of his tenure of the Attorney Generalship amounted to7322_l. _ The reader should observe that as Attorney General he made butlittle more than Coke had realized in the same office, --a fact servingto show how much better paid were Crown lawyers in times when they heldoffice like judges during the Sovereign's pleasure, than in these latterdays when they retire from place together with their political parties. 

The difference between the incomes of Scotch advocates and Englishbarristers was far greater in the eighteenth century than at the presenttime, although in our own day the receipts of several second-ratelawyers of the Temple and Lincoln's Inn far surpass the revenues of themost successful advocates of the Edinburgh faculty. A hundred and thirtyyears since a Scotch barrister who earned 500_l. _ per annum by hisprofession was esteemed notably successful. 

Just as Charles Yorke's fee-book shows us the pecuniary position of aneminent English barrister in the middle of the last century, JohnScott's list of receipts displays the prosperity of a very fortunateCrown lawyer in the next generation. Without imputing motives thepresent writer, may venture to say that Lord Eldon's assertions withregard to his earnings at the bar, and his judicial incomes, were not instrict accordance with the evidence of his private accounts. He used tosay that his first year's earnings in his profession amounted tohalf-a-guinea, but there is conclusive proof that he had a considerablequantity of lucrative business in the same year. "When I was called tothe bar, " it was his humor to say, "Bessie and I thought all ourtroubles were over, business was to pour in, and we were to be richalmost immediately. So I made a bargain with her that during thefollowing year all the money I should receive in the first elevenmonths should be mine, and whatever I should get in the twelfth monthshould be hers. That was our agreement, and how do you think it turnedout? In the twelfth month I received half-a-guinea--eighteenpence wentfor charity, and Bessy got nine shillings. In the other eleven months Igot one shilling. " John Scott, be it remembered, was called to the baron February 9, 1776, and on October 2, of the same year, William Scottwrote to his brother Henry--"My brother Jack seems highly pleased withhis circuit business. I hope it is only the beginning of futuretriumphs. All appearances speak strongly in his favor. " There is no needto call evidence to show that Eldon's success was more than respectablefrom the outset of his career, and that he had not been called manyyears before he was in the foremost rank of his profession. His fee-bookgives the following account of his receipts in thirteen successiveyears:--1786, 6833_l. _ 7_s. _; 1787, 7600_l. _ 7_s. _; 1788, 8419_l. _14_s. _; 1789, 9559_l. _ 10_s. _; 1790, 9684_l. _ 15_s. _; 1791, 10, 213_l. _13_s. _ 6_d. _; 1792, 9080_l. _ 9_s. _; 1793, 10, 330_l. _ 1_s. _ 4_d. _; 1794, 11, 592_l. _; 1795, 11, 149_l. _ 15_s. _ 4_d. _; 1796, 12, 140_l. _ 15_s. _8_d. _; 1797, 10, 861_l. _ 5_s. _ 8_d_; 1798, 10, 557_l. _ 17_s. _ During thelast six of the above-mentioned years he was Attorney General, andduring the preceding four years Solicitor General. 

Although General Retainers are much less general than formerly, they areby no means obsolete. Noblemen could be mentioned who at the presenttime engage counsel with periodical payments, special fees of coursebeing also paid for each professional service. But the custom is dyingout, and it is probable that after the lapse of another hundred years itwill not survive save amongst the usages of ancient corporations. Noticehas already been taken of Murray's conduct when he returned nine hundredand ninety-five out of a thousand guineas to the Duchess ofMarlborough, informing her that the professional fee with the generalretainer was neither more nor less than five guineas. The annual salaryof a Queen's Counsel in past times was in fact a fee with a generalretainer; but this periodic payment is no longer made to wearers ofsilk. 

In his learned work on 'The Judges of England, ' Mr. Foss observes: "Thecustom of retaining counsel in fee lingered in form, at least in oneducal establishment. By a formal deed-poll between the proud Duke ofSomerset and Sir Thomas Parker, dated July 19, 1707, the duke retainshim as his 'standing counsell in ffee, ' and gives and allows him 'theyearly ffee of four markes, to be paid by my solicitor' at Michaelmas, 'to continue during my will and pleasure. '" Doubtless Mr. Foss is awarethat this custom still 'lingers in form;' but the tone of his wordsjustifies the opinion that he underrates the frequency with whichgeneral retainers are still given. The 'standing counsel' of civic andcommercial companies are counsel with general retainers, and usuallytheir general retainers have fees attached to them. 

The payments of English barristers have varied much more than theremunerations of English physicians. Whereas medical practitioners inevery age have received a certain definite sum for each consultation, and have been forbidden by etiquette to charge more or less than thefixed rate, lawyers have been allowed much freedom in estimating theworth of their labor. This difference between the usages of the twoprofessions is mainly due to the fact, that the amount of time andmental effort demanded by patients at each visit or consultation is verynearly the same in all cases, whereas the requirements of clients aremuch more various. To get up the facts of a law-case may be the work ofminutes, or hours, or days, or even weeks; to observe the symptoms of apatient, and to write a prescription, can be always accomplished withinthe limits of a short morning call. In all times, however, the legalprofession has adopted certain scales of payment--that fixed the_minimum_ of remuneration, but left the advocate free to get more, ascircumstances might encourage him to raise his demands. Of the many goodstories told of artifices by which barristers have delicately intimatedtheir desire for higher payment, none is better than an anecdoterecorded of Sergeant Hill. A troublesome case being laid before thismost erudite of George III. 's sergeants, he returned it with a briefnote, that he "saw more difficulty in the case than, _under all thecircumstances_, he could well solve. " As the fee marked upon the casewas only a guinea, the attorney readily inferred that its smallness wasone of the circumstances which occasioned the counsel's difficulty. Thecase, therefore, was returned, with a fee of two guineas. Stilldissatisfied, Sergeant Hill wrote that "he saw no reason to change hisopinion. "

By the etiquette of the bar no barrister is permitted to take a brief onany circuit, save that on which he habitually practises, unless he hasreceived a special retainer; and no wearer of silk can be speciallyretained with a less fee than three hundred guineas. Erskine's firstspecial retainer was in the Dean of St. Asaph's case, his first speechin which memorable cause was delivered when he had been called to thebar but little more than five years. From that time till his elevationto the bench he received on an average twelve special retainers a year, by which at the minimum of payment he made £3600 per annum. Besidesbeing lucrative and honorable, this special employment greatly augmentedhis practice in Westminster Hall, as it brought him in personal contactwith attorneys in every part of the country, and heightened hispopularity amongst all classes of his fellow-countrymen. In 1786 heentirely withdrew from ordinary circuit practice, and confined hisexertions in provincial courts to the causes for which he was speciallyretained. No advocate since his time has received an equal number ofspecial retainers; and if he did not originate the custom of specialretainers, [12] he was the first English barrister who ventured to rejectall other briefs. 

There is no need to recapitulate all the circumstances of Erskine'srapid rise in his profession--a rise due to his effective brilliance andfervor in political trial: but this chapter on lawyers' fees would beculpably incomplete, if it failed to notice some of its pecuniaryconsequences. In the eighth month after his call to the bar he thankedAdmiral Keppel for a splendid fee of one thousand pounds. A few yearslater a legal gossip wrote: "Everybody says that Erskine will beSolicitor General, and if he is, and indeed whether he is or not, hewill have had the most rapid rise that has been known at the bar. It isfour years and a half since he was called, and in that time he hascleared £8000 or £9000, besides paying his debts--got a silk gown, andbusiness of at least £3000 a year--a seat in Parliament--and, over andabove, has made his brother Lord Advocate. "

Merely to mention large fees without specifying the work by which theywere earned would mislead the reader. During the railway mania of 1845, the few leaders of the parliamentary bar received prodigious fees; andin some cases the sums were paid for very little exertion. Frequently ithappened that a lawyer took heavy fees in causes, at no stage of whichhe either made a speech or read a paper in the service of his tooliberal employers. During that period of mad speculation thecommittee-rooms of the two Houses were an El Dorado to certain favoredlawyers, who were alternately paid for speech and _silence_ withreckless profusion. But the time was so exceptional, that the feesreceived and the fortunes made in it by a score of lucky advocates andsolicitors cannot be fairly cited as facts illustrating the socialcondition of legal practitioners. As a general rule, it may be statedthat large fortunes are not made at the bar by large fees. Our richestlawyers have made the bulk of their wealth by accumulating sufficientbut not exorbitant payments. In most cases the large fee has not been avery liberal remuneration for the work done. Edward Law's retainer forthe defence of Warren Hastings brought with it £500--a sum which causedour grandfathers to raise their hands in astonishment at the nabob'smunificence; but the sum was in reality the reverse of liberal. In all, Warren Hastings paid his leading advocate considerably less than fourthousand pounds; and if Law had not contrived to win the respect ofsolicitors by his management of the defence, the case could not be saidto have paid him for his trouble. So also the eminent advocate, who inthe great case of Small _v. _ Attwood received a fee of £6000, wasactually underpaid. When he made up the account of the special outlaynecessitated by that cause, and the value of business which theburdensome case compelled him to decline, he had small reason tocongratulate himself on his remuneration. 

A statement of the incomes made by chamber-barristers, and of the sumsrealized by counsel in departments of the profession that do not invitethe attention of the general public, would astonish those uninformedpersons who estimate the success of a barrister by the frequency withwhich his name appears in the newspaper reports of trials and suits. Thetalkers of the bar enjoy more _éclat_ than the barristers who confinethemselves to chamber practice, and their labors lead to the honors ofthe bench; but a young lawyer, bent only on the acquisition of wealth, is more likely to achieve his ambition by conveyancing orarbitration-business than by court-work. Kenyon was never a popular orsuccessful advocate, but he made £3000 a year by answering cases. Charles Abbott at no time of his life could speak better than avestryman of average ability; but by drawing informations andindictments, by writing opinions on cases, he made the greater part ofthe eight thousand pounds which he returned as the amount of hisprofessional receipts in 1807. In our own time, when that popular commonlaw advocate, Mr. Edwin James, was omnipotent with juries, his incomenever equalled the incomes of certain chamber-practitioners whose namesare utterly unknown to the general body of English society. 

[12] Lord Campbell observes: "Some say that special retainers began withErskine; but I doubt the fact. " It is strange that there should beuncertainty as to the time when special retainers--unquestionably acomparatively recent innovation in legal practice--came into vogue. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

JUDICIAL CORRUPTION. 

To a young student making his first researches beneath the surface ofEnglish history, few facts are more painful and perplexing than thejudicial corruption which prevailed in every period of our country'sgrowth until quiet recent times--darkening the brightest pages of ourannals, and disfiguring some of the greatest chieftains of our race. 

Where he narrates the fall and punishment of De Weyland towards theclose of the thirteenth century, Speed observes: "While the Jews bytheir cruel usuries had in one way eaten up the people, the justiciars, like another kind of Jews, had ruined them with delay in their suits, and enriched themselves with wicked convictions. " Of judicial corruptionin the reigns of Edward I. And Edward II. A vivid picture is given in apolitical ballad, composed in the time of one or the other of thosemonarchs. Of this poem Mr. Wright, in his 'Political Songs, ' gives afree version, a part of which runs thus:--

 "Judges there are whom gifts and favorites control, Content to serve the devil alone and take from him a toll; If nature's law forbids the judge from selling his decree, How dread to those who finger bribes the punishment shall be. 

 "Such judges have accomplices whom frequently they send To get at those who claim some land, and whisper as a friend, ''Tis I can help you with the judge, if you would wish to plead, Give me but half, I'll undertake before him you'll succeed. '

 "The clerks who sit beneath the judge are open-mouthed as he, As if they were half-famished and gaping for a fee; Of those who give no money they soon pronounce the state, However early they attend, they shall have long to wait. 

 "If comes some noble lady, in beauty and in pride, With golden horns upon her head, her suit he'll soon decide; But she who has no charms, nor friends, and is for gifts too poor, Her business all neglected, she's weeping shown the door. 

 "But worse than all, within the court we some relators meet, Who take from either side at once, and both their clients cheat; The ushers, too, to poor men say, 'You labor here in vain, Unless you tip us all around, you may go back again. '

 "The sheriff's hard upon the poor who cannot pay for rest, Drags them about to every town, on all assizes press'd Compell'd to take the oath prescrib'd without objection made, For if they murmur and can't pay, upon their backs they're laid. 

 "They enter any private house, or abbey that they choose, Where meat and drink and all things else are given as their dues; And after dinner jewels too, or this were all in vain, Bedels and garçons must receive, and all that form the train. 

 "And next must gallant robes be sent as presents to their wives, Or from the manor of the host some one his cattle drives; While he, poor man, is sent to gaol upon some false pretence, And pays at last at double cost, ere he gets free from thence. 

 "I can't but laugh to see their clerks, whom once I knew in need, When to obtain a bailiwick they may at last succeed; With pride in gait and countenance and with their necks erect They lands and houses quickly buy and pleasant rents collect. 

 "Grown rich they soon the poor despise, and new-made laws display, Oppress their neighbors and become the wise men of their day; Unsparing of the least offence, when they can have their will, The hapless country all around with discontent they fill. "

In the fourteenth century judicial corruption was so general andflagrant, that cries came from every quarter for the punishment ofoffenders. The Knights Hospitallers' Survey, made in the year 1338, gives us revelations that confound the indiscreet admirers of feudalmanners. From that source of information it appears that regularstipends were paid to persons "tam in curia domini regis quamjusticiariis, clericis, officiariis et aliis ministris, in diversiscuriis suis, ac etiam aliis familaribus magnatum tam pro terristenementis redditbus et libertatibus Hospitalis, quam Templariorum, etmaxime pro terris Templariorum manutenendis. " Of pensions to the amountof £440 mentioned in the account, £60 were paid to judges, clerks, andminor officers of courts. Robert de Sadington, the Chief Baron, received40 marks annually; twice a year the Knights Hospitallers presented capsto one hundred and forty officers of the Exchequer; and they expended200 marks _per annum_ on gifts that were distributed in law courts, "_pro favore habendo_, et pro placitis habendis, et expensisparliamentorum. " In that age, and for centuries later, it was customaryfor wealthy men and great corporations to make valuable presents to thejudges and chief servants the king's courts; but it was always presumedthat the offerings were simple expressions of respect--not tributerendered, "pro favore habendo. "

Bent on purifying the moral atmosphere of his courts, Edward III. Raisedthe salaries of his judges, and imposed upon them such oaths that noneof their order could pervert justice, or even encourage venal practices, without breaking his solemn vow[13] to the king's majesty. 

From the amounts of the _royal_ fees or stipends paid to Edward III. 'sjudges, it may be vaguely estimated how far they were dependent on giftsand _court_ fees for the means of living with appropriate state. JohnKnyvet, Chief Justice of the King's Bench, has £40 and 100 marks perannum. The annual fee of Thomas de Ingleby, the solitary puisne judgeof the King's Bench at that time, was at first 40 marks; but he obtainedan additional £40 when the 'fees' were raised, and he received moreover£20 a year as a judge of assize. The Chief of the Common Pleas, Robertde Thrope, received £40 per annum, payable during his tenure of office, and another annual sum of £40 payable during his life. John de Mowbray, William de Wychingham, and William de Fyncheden, the other judges of theCommon Pleas, received 40 marks each as official salary, and £20 perannum for their services at assizes. Mowbray's stipend was subsequentlyincreased by 40 marks, whilst Wychingham and Fyncheden received anadditional £40 par annum. To the Chief Baron and the other two Barons ofthe Exchequer annual fees of 40 marks each were paid, the Chief Baronreceiving £20 per annum as Justice of Assize, and one of the puisneBarons, Almaric de Shirland, getting an additional 40 marks for certainspecial services. The 'Issue Roll of 44 Edward III. , 1370, ' also showsthat certain sergeants-at-law acted as Justices of Assize, receiving fortheir service £20 per annum. 

Throughout his reign Edward III. Strenuously exerted himself to purgehis law courts of abuses, and to secure his subjects from evils wroughtby judicial dishonesty; and though there is reason to think that heprosecuted his reforms, and punished offending judges with moreimpulsiveness than consistency--with petulance rather thanfirmness[14]--his action must have produced many beneficial results. Butit does not seem to have occurred to him that the system adopted by hispredecessors, and encouraged by the usages of his own time, was thereal source of the mischief, and that so long as judges received thegreater part of their remuneration from suitors, fees and the donationsof the public, enactments and proclamations would be comparativelypowerless to preserve the streams of justice from pollution. Thefee-system poisoned the morality of the law-courts. From the highestjudge to the lowest usher, every person connected with a court ofjustice was educated to receive small sums of money for triflingservices, to be always looking out for paltry dues or gratuities, tomultiply occasions for demanding, and reasons for pocketing petty coins, to invent devices for legitimate peculation. In time the system producedsuch complications of custom, right, privilege, claim, that no one couldsay definitely how much a suitor was actually bound to pay at each stageof a suit. The fees had an equally bad influence on the public. Trainedto approach the king's judges with costly presents, to receive them ontheir visits with lavish hospitality, to send them offerings at theopening of each year, the rich and the poor learnt to look on judicialdecisions as things that were bought and sold. In many cases thisimpression was not erroneous. Judges were forbidden to accept gifts fromactual suitors, or to take payments _for_ judgments after theirdelivery; but on the judgment-seat they were often influenced byrecollections of the conduct of suitors who _had been_ munificent beforethe commencement of proceedings, and most probably would be equallymunificent six months after delivery of a judgment favorable to theirclaims. Humorous anecdotes heightened the significance of patent facts. Throughout a shire it would be told how this suitor won a judgment by asumptuous feast; how that suitor bought the justice's favor with a flaskof rare wine, a horse of excellent breed, a hound of superior sagacity. 

In the fifteenth century the judge whose probity did not succumb to anexcellent dinner was deemed a miracle of virtue. "A lady, " writes Fullerof Chief Justice Markham, who was dismissed from his place in 1470, "would traverse a suit of law against the will of her husband, who wascontented to buy his quiet by giving her her will therein, thoughotherwise persuaded in his judgment the cause would go against her. Thislady, dwelling in the shire town, invited the judge to dinner, and(though thrifty enough herself) treated him with sumptuousentertainment. Dinner being done, and the cause being called, the judgegave it against her. And when, in passion, she vowed never to invite thejudge again, 'Nay, wife, ' said he, 'vow never to invite a _just judge_any more. '" It may be safely affirmed that no English lady of our timeever tried to bribe Sir Alexander Cockburn or Sir Frederick Pollock witha dinner _à la Russe_. 

By his eulogy of Chief Justice Dyer, who died March 24, 1582, Whetstonegives proof that in Elizabethan England purity was the exception ratherthan the rule with judges:--

 "And when he spake he was in speeche reposde; His eyes did search the simple suitor's harte; To put by bribes his hands were ever closde, His processe juste, he tooke the poore man's parte. He ruld by lawe and listened not to arte, Those foes to truthe--loove, hate, and private gain, Which most corrupt, his conscience could not staine. "

There is no reason to suppose that the custom of giving and receivingpresents was more general or extravagant in the time of Elizabeth thanin previous ages; but the fuller records of her splendid reign givegreater prominence to the usage than it obtained in the chronicles ofany earlier period of English history. On each New Year's day hercourtiers gave her costly presents--jewels, ornaments of gold or silverworkmanship, hundreds of ounces of silver-gilt plate, tapestry, laces, satin dresses, embroidered petticoats. Not only did she accept suchcostly presents from men of rank and wealth, but she graciously receivedthe donations of tradesmen and menials. Francis Bacon made her majesty"a poor oblation of a garment;" Charles Smith, the dustman, threw uponthe pile of treasure "two bottes of cambric. " The fashion thuscountenanced by the queen was followed in all ranks of society; all men, from high to low, receiving presents, as expressions of affection whenthey came from their equals, as declarations of respect when they camefrom their social inferiors. Each of her great officers of state drew ahandsome revenue from such yearly offerings. But though the burdens andabuses of this system were excessive under Elizabeth, they increased inenormity and number during the reigns of the Stuarts. 

That the salaries of the Elizabethan judges were small in comparisonwith the sums which they received in presents and fees may be seen fromthe following Table of stipends and allowances annually paid, towardsthe close of the sixteenth century:--

 £ _s. _ _d. _

The Lord Cheefe Justice of England:-- Fee, Reward and Robes 208 6 8 Wyne, 2 tunnes at £5 the tunne 10 0 0 Allowance for being Justice of Assize 20 0 0

The Lord Cheefe Justice of the Common Pleas:-- Fee, Reward, and Robes 141 13 4 Wyne, two tunnes 8 0 0 Allowance as Justice of Assize 20 0 0 Fee for keeping the Assize in the Augmentation Court 12 10 8

Each of the three Justices in these two Courts:-- Fee, Reward and Robes £123 6_s. _ 8_d. _ Allowance as Justice of Assize 20 0 0

The Lord Cheefe Baron of the Exchequer:-- Fee 100 0 0 Lyvery 12 17 8 Allowance as Justice of the Assize 20 0 0

Each of the three Barons:-- Fee 46 12 4 Lyvery a peece 12 17 4 Allowance as Justice of Assize 20 0 0

Prior to and in the earlier part of Elizabeth's reign, the sheriffs hadbeen required to provide diet and lodging for judges travelling oncircuit, each sheriff being responsible for the proper entertainment ofjudges within the limits of his jurisdiction. This arrangement was veryburdensome upon the class from which the sheriffs were elected, as theofficial host had not only to furnish suitable lodging and cheer for thejustices themselves, but also to supply the wants of their attendantsand servants. The ostentatious and costly hospitality which law andpublic opinion thus compelled or encouraged them to exercise towardscircuiteers of all ranks had seriously embarrassed a great number ofcountry gentlemen; and the queen was assailed with entreaties for areform that should free a sheriff of small estate from the necessity ofeither ruining himself, or incurring a reputation for stinginess. Inconsequence of these urgent representations, an order of council, bearing date February 21, 1574, decided "the justices shall have of hermajesty several sums of money out of her coffers for their daily diet. "Hence rose the usage of 'circuit allowances. ' The sheriffs, however, were still bound to attend upon the judges, and make suitable provisionfor the safe conduct of the legal functionaries from assize town toassize town;--the sheriff of each county being required to furnish abody-guard for the protection of the sovereign's representatives. Thisresponsibility lasted till the other day, when an innovation (of whichMr. Arcedeckne, of Glevering Hall, Suffolk, was the most notorious, though not the first champion), substituted guards of policemen, paid bycounty-rates, for bands of javelin-men equipped and rewarded by thesheriffs. In some counties the javelin-men--remote descendants of themail-clad knights and stalwart men-at-arms who formerly mustered at thesummons of sheriffs--still do duty with long wands and fresh rosettes;but they are fast giving way to the wielders of short staves. 

Amongst the bad consequences of the system of gratuities was the colorwhich it gave to idle rumors and malicious slander against the purity ofupright judges. 

When Sir Thomas More fell, charges of bribery were preferred against himbefore the Privy Council. A disappointed suitor, named Parnell, declaredthat the Chancellor had been bribed with a gift-cup to decide in favorof his (Parnell's) adversary. Mistress Vaughan, the successful suitor'swife, had given Sir Thomas the cup with her own hands. The fallenChancellor admitting that "he had received the cup as a New Year'sGift, " Lord Wiltshire cried, with unseemly exultation, "Lo! did I nottell you, my lords, that you would find this matter true?" It seemedthat More had pleaded guilty, for his oath did not permit him to receivea New Year's Gift from an actual suitor. "But, my lords, " continued theaccused man, with one of his characteristic smiles, "hear the other partof my tale. After having drunk to her of wine, with which my butler hadfilled the cup, and when she had pledged me, I restored it to her, andwould listen to no refusal. " It is possible that Mistress Vaughan didnot act with corrupt intention, but merely in ignorance of the rulewhich forbade the Chancellor to accept her present. As much cannot besaid in behalf of Mrs. Croker, who, being opposed in a suit to LordArundel, sought to win Sir Thomas More's favor by presenting him with apair of gloves containing forty angels. With a courteous smile heaccepted the gloves, but constrained her to take back the gold. Thegentleness of this rebuff is charming; but the story does not tell morein favor of Sir Thomas than to the disgrace of the lady and the moraltone of the society in which she lived. 

Readers should bear in mind the part which New Year's Gifts and othercustomary gratuities played in the trumpery charges against Lord Bacon. Adopting an old method of calumny, the conspirators against his fairfame represented that the gifts made to him, in accordance with ancientusage, were bribes. For instance Reynel's ring, presented on New Year'sday, was so construed by the accusers; and in his comment upon thecharge, Bacon, who had inadvertently accepted the gift during theprogress of a suit, observes, "This ring was received certainly_pendente lite_, and though it were at New Year's tide, yet it was toogreat a value for a New Year's Gift, though, as I take it, nothing nearthe value mentioned in the articles. " So also Trevor's gift was a NewYear's present, of which Bacon says, "I confess and declare that Ireceived at New Year's tide an hundred pounds from Sir John Trevor, andbecause it came as a New Year's Gift, I neglected to inquire whether thecause was ended or depending; but since I find that though the cause wasthen dismissed to a trial at law, yet the equity is reserved, so as itwas in that kind _pendente lite_. " Bacon knew that this explanationwould be read by men familiar with the history of New Year's Gifts, andall the circumstances of the ancient usage; and it is needless to saythat no man of honor thought the less highly of Bacon at that time, because his pure and guiltless acceptance of customary presents was byingenious and unscrupulous adversaries made to assume an appearance ofcorrupt compliance. 

How far the Chancellors of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuriesdepended upon customary gratuities for their revenues may be seen fromthe facts which show the degree of state which they were required tomaintain, and the inadequacy of the ancient fees for the maintenance ofthat pomp. When Elizabeth pressed Hatton for payment of the sums whichhe owed her, the Chancellor lamented his inability to liquidate her justclaims, and urged in excuse that the _ancient fees_ were very inadequateto the expenses of the Chancellor's office. But though ElizabethanChancellors could not live upon their ancient fees, they kept up palacesin town and country, fed regiments of lackeys, and surpassed the ancientnobility in the grandeur of their equipages. Egerton--the needy andillegitimate son of a rural knight, a lawyer who fought up from theranks--not only sustained the costly dignities of office, but left tohis descendants a landed estate worth £8000 per annum. Bacon's successorin the 'marble chair, ' Lord Keeper Williams, assured Buckingham that inEgerton's time the Chancellor's lawful income was less than threethousand per annum. "The lawful revenue of the office stands thus, "wrote Williams, speaking from his intimate knowledge of Ellesmere'saffairs, "or not much above it at anytime:--in fines certain, £1300 perannum, or thereabouts; in fines casual, £1250 or thereabouts; in greaterwrits, £140; for impost of wine, £100--in all, £2790; and these are allthe true means of that great office. " It is probable that Williamsunder-stated the revenue, but it is certain that the income, apart fromgratuities, was insufficient. 

The Chancellor was not more dependent on customary gratuities than thechief of the three Common Law courts. At Westminster and on circuit, whenever he was required to discharge his official functions, theEnglish judge extended his hand for the contributions of thewell-disposed. No one thought of blaming judges for their readiness totake customary benevolences. To take gifts was a usage of theprofession, and had its parallel in the customs of every calling andrank of life. The clergy took dues in like manner: from the earliestdays of feudal life the territorial lords had supplied their wants inthe same way; amongst merchants and yeomen, petty traders and servants, the system existed in full force. These presents were made without anysecrecy. The aldermen of borough towns openly voted presents to thejudges; and the judges received their offerings--not as benefactions, but as legitimate perquisites. In 1620--just a year before Lord Bacon'sfall--the municipal council of Lyme Regis left it to the "mayor'sdiscretion" to decide "what gratuity he will give to the Lord ChiefBaron and his men" at the next assizes. The system, it is needless tosay, had disastrous results. Empowering the chief judge of every courtto receive presents not only from the public, but from subordinatejudges, inferior officers, and the bar; and moreover empowering eachplace-holder to take gratuities from persons officially or by professionconcerned in the business of the courts, it produced a complicatedmachinery for extortion. By presents the chief justices bought theirplaces from the crown or a royal favorite; by presents the puisnejustices, registrars, counsel bought place or favor from the chief; bypresents the attorneys, sub-registrars, and outside public sought togain their ends with the humbler place-holders. The meanest ushers ofWestminster Hall took coins from ragged scriveners. Hence every placewas actually bought and sold, the sum being in most cases very high. Sir James Ley offered the Duke of Buckingham £10, 000 for the Attorney'splace. At the same period the Solicitor General's office was sold for£4000. Under Charles I. Matters grew still worse than they had beenunder his father. When Sir Charles Cæsar consulted Laud about the worthof the vacant Mastership of the Rolls, the archbishop frankly said, "that as things then stood, the place was not likely to go without moremoney than he thought any wise man would give for it. " Disregarding thisintimation, Sir Charles paid the king £15, 000 for the place, and added aloan of £2000. Sir Thomas Richardson, at the opening of the reign, gave£17, 000 for the Chiefship of the Common Pleas. If judges needed giftsbefore the days when vacant seats were put up to auction, of course theystood all the more in need of them when they bought their promotionswith such large sums. It is not wonderful that the wearers of erminerepaid themselves by venal practices. The sale of judicial offices wasnaturally followed by the sale of judicial decisions. The judges havingsubmitted to the extortions of the king, the public had to endure theextortions of the judges. Corruption on the bench produced corruption atthe bar. Counsel bought the attention and compliance of 'the court, ' andin some cases sold their influence with shameless rascality. They wouldtake fees to speak from one side in a cause and fees to be silent fromthe other side--selling their own clients as coolly as judges sold thesuitors of their courts. Sympathizing with the public, and stung bypersonal experience of legal dishonesty, the clergy sometimes denouncedfrom the pulpit the extortions of corrupt judges and unprincipledbarristers. The assize sermons of Charles I. 's reign were frequentlyseasoned with such animadversions. At Thetford Assizes, March, 1630, the Rev. Mr. Ramsay, in the assize-sermon, spoke indignantly of judgeswho "favored causes, " and of "counsellors who took fees to be silent. "In the summer of 1631, at the Bury Assizes, "one Mr. Scott made a soresermon in discovery of corruption in judges and others. " At Norwich, thesame authority, viz. , 'Sir John Rous's Diary, ' informs us--"Mr. Greenewas more plaine, insomuch that Judge Harvey, in his charge, broke outthus: 'It seems by the sermon that we are corrupt, but we know that wecan use conscience in our places as well as the best clergieman ofall. '"

In his 'Life and Death of Sir Matthew Hale, ' Bishop Burnet tells a goodstory of the Chief's conduct with regard to a customary gift. "It isalso a custom, " says the biographer, "for the Marshall of the King'sBench to present the judges of that court with a piece of plate for aNew Year's Gift, that for the Chief Justice being larger than the rest. This he intended to have refused, but the other judges told him itbelonged to his office, and the refusing it would be a prejudice to hissuccessors; so he was persuaded to take it, but he sent word to themarshall, that instead of plate he should bring him the value of it inmoney, and when he received it, he immediately sent it to the prisonsfor the relief and discharge of the poor there. "

[13] A portion of the oath prescribed for judges in the 'Ordinances forJustices, ' 20 Edward III. , will show the reader the evils which calledfor correction and the care taken to effect their cure. "Ye shallswear, " ran the injunction to which each judge was required to vowobedience, "that well and lawfully ye shall serve our lord the king andhis people in the office of justice; . . . And that ye take not byyourself or by other, privily or apertly, gift or reward of gold orsilver, nor any other thing which may turn to your profit, unless it bemeat nor drink, and that of small value, _of any man that shall haveplea or process before you, as long as the same process shall be sohanging, nor after for the same cause: and that ye shall take no fee aslong as ye shall be justice, nor robes of any man, great or small_, butof the king himself: and that ye give none advice or counsel to no man, great or small, in any case where the king is party; &c. &c. &c. " Theclause forbidding the judge to receive gifts of actual suitors was apositive recognition of his right to customary gifts rendered by personswho had no process hanging before him. It should, moreover, be observedthat in the passage, "ye shall take no fee as long as ye shall bejustice, nor robes of any man, " the word "fee" signifies "salary, " andnot a single payment or gratuity. The Judge was forbidden to receivefrom any man a fixed stipend (by the acceptance of which he would becomethe donor's servant), or robes (the assumption of which would be opendeclaration of service); but he was at liberty to accept the offeringswhich the public were wont to make to men of his condition, as well asthe sums (or 'fees, ' as they would be termed at the present day) due ondifferent processes of his court. That the word 'fee' is thus used inthe ordinance may be seen from the words "for this cause we haveincreased the fees (les feez) of the same our justices, in such manneras it ought reasonably to suffice them, " by which language attention isdrawn to the increase of judicial salaries. 

[14] Mr. Foss observes: "In 1350, William de Thrope, Chief Justice ofthe King's Bench, was convicted on his own confession of receivingbribes to stay justice; but though his property was forfeited to theCrown on his condemnation, the king appears to have relented, and tohave made him second Baron of the Exchequer in May, 1352, unless I ammistaken in supposing the latter to have been the same person. "

CHAPTER XV. 

GIFTS AND SALES. 

By degrees the public ceased to make presents to the principal judges ofthe kingdom; but long after the Chancellor and the three Chiefs hadtaken the last offerings of general society, they continued to receiveyearly presents from the subordinate judges, placemen, and barristersof their respective courts. Lord Cowper deserves honor for being theholder of the seals who, by refusing to pocket these customarydonations, put an end to a very objectionable system, so far as theCourt of Chancery was concerned. 

On being made Lord Keeper, he resolved to depart from the custom of hispredecessors for many generations, who on the first day of each new yearhad invariably entertained at breakfast the persons from whom tributewas looked for. Very droll were these receptions in the old time. Therepast at an end, the guests forthwith disburdened themselves of theirgold--the payers approaching the holder of the seals in order of rank, and laying on his table purses of money, which the noble payee acceptedwith his own hands. Sometimes his lordship was embarrassed by a ceremonythat required him to pick gold from the fingers of men, several of whomhe knew to be in indigent circumstances. In Charles II. 's time it wasobserved that the silver-tongued Lord Nottingham on such occasionsalways endeavored to hide his confusion under a succession of nervoussmiles and exclamations--"Oh, Tyrant Cuthtom!--Oh, Tyrant Cuthtom!"

It is noteworthy that in relinquishing the benefit of these exactions, the Lord Keeper feared unfriendly criticism much more than heanticipated public commendation. In his diary, under date December 30, Cowper wrote:--"I acquainted my Lord Treasurer with my design to refuseNew Year's Gifts, if he had no objection against it, as spoiling, insome measure, a place of which he had the conferring. He answered it wasnot expected of me, but that I might do as my predecessors had done; butif I refused, he thought nobody could blame me for it. " Anxious aboutthe consequences of his innovation, the new Lord Keeper gave notice thaton January 1, 1705-6, he would receive no gifts; but notwithstandingthis proclamation, several officers of Chancery and counsellors came tohis house with tribute, and were refused admittance. "New Year's Giftsturned back, " he wrote in his diary at the close of the eventful day, "and pray God it doth me more credit and good than hurt, by makingsecret enemies _in fæce Romuli_. " His fears were in a slight degreefulfilled. The Chiefs of the three Common Law Courts were greatlydispleased with an innovation which they had no wish to adopt; and theirwarm expressions of dissatisfaction induced the Lord Keeper to cover hisdisinterestedness with a harmless fiction. To pacify the indignantChiefs and the many persons who sympathized with them, he pretended thatthough he had declined intentionally the gifts of the Chancerybarristers, he had not designed to exercise the same self-denial withregard to the gifts of Chancery officers. [15]

The common law chiefs were slow to follow in the Lord Keeper's steps, and many years passed before the reform, effected in Chancery byaccident or design, or by a lucky combination of both, was adopted inthe other great courts. In his memoir of Lord Cowper, Campbell observes:"His example with respect to New Year's Gifts was not speedily followed;and it is said that till very recently the Chief Justice of the CommonPleas invited the officers of his court to a dinner at the beginning ofthe year, when each of them deposited under his plate a present in theshape of a Bank of England note, instead of a gift of oxen roaring athis levee, as in ruder times. " There is no need to remind the reader inthis place of the many veracious and the many apocryphal storiesconcerning the basket justices of Fielding's time--stories showing thatin law courts of the lowest sort applicants for justice were accustomedto fee the judges with victuals and drink until a comparatively recentdate. 

Lucky would it have been for the first Earl of Macclesfield if thecustom of selling places in Chancery had been put an end to forever bythe Lord Keeper who abolished the custom of New Year's Gifts; but thejudge who at the sacrifice of one-fourth of his official income sweptaway the pernicious usage which had from time immemorial marked theopening of each year, saw no reason why he should purge Chancery ofanother scarcely less objectionable practice. Following the steps oftheir predecessors, the Chancellors Cowper, Harcourt, and Macclesfieldsold subordinate offices in their court; and whereas all previousChancellors had been held blameless for so doing, Lord Macclesfield waspunished with official degradation, fine, imprisonment, and obloquy. 

By birth as humble[16] as any layman who before or since his time hasheld the seals, Thomas Parker raised himself to the woolsack by greattalents and honorable industry. As an advocate he won the respect ofsociety and his profession; as a judge he ranks with the firstexpositors of English law. Although for imputed corruption he was hurledwith ignominy from his high place, no one has ventured to charge himwith venality on the bench. That he was a spotless character, or thathis career was marked by grandeur of purpose, it would be difficult toestablish; but few Englishmen could at the present time be found to denythat he was in the main an upright peer, who was not wittinglyneglectful of his duty to the country which had loaded him with wealthand honors. 

Amongst the many persons ruined by the bursting of the South Sea Bubblewere certain Masters of Chancery, who had thrown away on that wildspeculation large sums of which they were the official guardians. LordMacclesfield was one of the victims on whom the nation wreaked its wrathat a crisis when universal folly had produced universal disaster. Topunish the masters for their delinquencies was not enough; greatersacrifices than a few comparatively obscure placemen were demanded bythe suitors and wards whose money had been squandered by the fraudulenttrustees. The Lord Chancellor should be made responsible for theChancery defalcations. That was the will of the country. No onepretended that Lord Macclesfield had originated the practice whichpermitted Masters in Chancery to speculate with funds placed under theircare; attorneys and merchants were well aware that in the days ofHarcourt, Cowper, Wright, and Somers, it had been usual for masters topocket interest accruing from suitors' money; notorious also was itthat, though the Chancellor was theoretically the trustee of the moneyconfided to his court, the masters were its actual custodians. Had theChancellor known that the masters were trafficking in dangerousinvestments to the probable loss of the public, duty would have requiredhim to examine their accounts and place all trust-moneys beyond theirreach; but until the crash came, Lord Macclesfield knew neither theactual worthlessness of the South Sea Stock, nor the embarrassedcircumstances of the defaulting masters, nor the peril of the personscommitted to his care. The system which permitted the masters tospeculate with money not their own was execrable, but the LordChancellor was not the parent of that system. 

Infuriated by the national calamity, in which they were themselves greatsufferers, the Commons impeached the Chancellor, charging him with highcrimes and misdemeanors, of which the peers unanimously declared himguilty. In this famous trial the great fact established against hislordship was that he had sold masterships to the defaulters. It appearedthat he had not only sold the places, but had stood out for very highprices; the inference being, that in consideration of these large sumshe had left the purchasers without the supervision usually exercised byChancellors over such officers, and had connived at the practices whichhad been followed by ruinous results. To this it was replied, that ifthe Chancellor had sold the places at higher prices than hispredecessors, he had done so because the places had become much morevaluable; that at the worst he had but sold them to the highest bidder, after the example of his precursors; that the inference was notsupported by any direct testimony. 

Very humorous was some of the evidence by which the sale of themasterships was proved. Master Elde deposed that he bought his officefor 5000 guineas, the bargain being finally settled and fulfilled aftera personal interview with the accused lord. Master Thurston, anotherpurchaser at the high rate of 5000 guineas, paid his money to LadyMacclesfield. It must be owned that these sums were very large, buttheir magnitude does not fix fraudulent purpose upon the Chancellor. That he believed himself fairly entitled to a moderate present onappointing to a mastership is certain; that he regarded £2000 as thegratuity which he might accept, without blushing at its publication, maybe inferred from the restitution of £3250 which he made to one of thepurchasers for £5250 at a time when he anticipated an inquiry into hisconduct; that he felt himself acting indiscreetly if not wrongfully inpressing for such large sums is testified by the caution with which heconferred with the purchasers and the secrecy with which he acceptedtheir money. 

His defence before the peers admitted the sales of the places, butmaintained that the transactions were legitimate. 

The defence was of no avail. When the question of guilty or not guiltywas put to the peers, each of the noble lords present answered, "Guilty, upon my honor. " Sentenced to pay a fine of £30, 000, and undergoimprisonment until the mulct was paid, the unfortunate statesmanbitterly repented the imprudence which had exposed him to the vengeanceof political adversaries and to the enmity of the vulgar. Whilst thepassions roused by the prosecution were at their height, the fallenChancellor was treated with much harshness by Parliament, and withactual brutality by the mob. Ever ready to vilify lawyers, the rabbleseized on so favorable an occasion for giving expression to one of theirstrongest prejudices. Amongst the crowds who followed the Earl to theTower with curses, voices were heard to exclaim that "Staffordshire hadproduced the three greatest scoundrels of England--Jack Sheppard, Jonathan Wilde, and Tom Parker. " Jonathan Wilde was executed in1725--the year of Lord Macclesfield's impeachment; and Jack Shepparddied on the gallows at Tyburn, November 16, 1724. 

Throughout the inquiry, and after the adverse verdict, George I. Persisted in showing favor to the disgraced Chancellor; and when theviolent emotions of the crisis had passed away it was generally admittedby enlightened critics of public events that Lord Macclesfield had beenunfairly treated. The scape-goat of popular wrath, he suffered less forhis own faults, than for the evil results of a bad system; and at thepresent time--when the silence of more than a hundred and thirty yearsrests upon his tomb--Englishmen, with one voice, acknowledge thevaluable qualities that raised him to eminence, and regret theproceedings which consigned him in his old age to humiliation and gloom. 

[15] It should be observed that many persons are of opinion that theLord Keeper's assertion on this point was not an artifice, but a simplestatement of fact. To those who take this view, his lordship's positionseems alike ridiculous and respectable--respectable because he actuallyintended to forbear from taking the barrister's money; ridiculousbecause, through clumsy and inadequate arrangements, he missed the otherand not less precious gifts which he did not mean to decline. Anyhow, the critics admit that credit is due to him for persisting in achange--wrought in the first instance partly by honorable design andpartly by accident. 

[16] The cases of John Scott, Philip Yorke, and Edward Sugden are beforethe mind of the present writer, when he pens the sentence to which thisnote refers. The social extraction of the English bar will be consideredin a later chapter of this work. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

A ROD PICKLED BY WILLIAM COLE. 

"A proneness to take bribes may be generated from the habit of takingfees, " said Lord Keeper Williams in his Inaugural Address, making anungenerous allusion to Francis Bacon, whilst he uttered a statementwhich was no calumny upon King James's Bench and Bar, though it issignally inapplicable to lawyers of the present day. 

Of Williams, tradition preserves a story that illustrates the prevalenceof judicial corruption in the seventeenth century, and the jealousy withwhich that Right Reverend Lord Keeper watched for attempts to tamperwith his honesty. Whilst he was taking exercise in the Great Park ofNonsuch House, his attention was caught by a church recently erected atthe cost of a rich Chancery suitor. Having expressed satisfaction withthe church, Williams inquired of George Minors, "Has he not a suitdepending in Chancery?" and on receiving an answer in the affirmative, observed, "he shall not fare the worse for building of churches. " Thesewords being reported to the pious suitor, he not illogically argued thatthe Keeper was a judge likely to be influenced in making his decisionsby matters distinct from the legal merits of the case put before him. Acting on this impression, the good man forthwith sent messengers toNonsuch House, bearing gifts of fruits and poultry to the holder of theseals. "Nay, carry them back, " cried the judge, looking with a grimsmile from the presents to George Minors; "nay, carry them back, George, and tell your friend that he shall not fare the better for sending ofpresents. "

Rich in satire directed against law and its professors, the literatureof the Commonwealth affords conclusive testimony of the low esteem inwhich lawyers were held in the seventeenth century by the populace, andshows how universal was the belief that wearers of ermine and gentlemenof the long robe would practice any sort of fraud or extortion for thesake of personal advantage. In the pamphlets and broadsides, in thesquibs and ballads of the period, may be found a wealth of quaintnarrative and broad invective, setting forth the rascality of judges andattorneys, barristers and scriveners. Any literary effort to throwcontempt upon the law was sure of success. The light jesters, who mademerry with the phraseology and costumes of Westminster Hall, were only afew degrees less welcome than the stronger and more indignant scribeswho cried aloud against the sins and sinners of the courts. When simplefolk had expended their rage in denunciations of venal eloquence andunjust judgments, they amused themselves with laughing at the antiquatedverbiage of the rascals who sought to conceal their bad morality underworse Latin. 'A New Modell, or the Conversion of the Infidell Terms ofthe Law: For the Better promoting of misunderstanding according toCommon Sense, ' is a publication consisting of a cover or fly-leaf andtwo leaves, that appeared about a year before the Restoration. The witis not brilliant; its humor is not free from uncleanness; but its comicrenderings[17] of a hundred law terms illustrate the humor of thetimes. 

More serious in aim, but not less comical in result, is William Cole's'A Rod for the Lawyers. London, Printed in the year 1659. ' The prefaceof this mad treatise ends thus--"I do not altogether despair but thatbefore I dye I may see the Inns of Courts, or dens of Thieves, convertedinto Hospitals, which were a rare piece of justice; that as theyformerly have immured those that robbed the poor of houses, so they mayat last preserve the poor themselves. "

Another book touching on the same subject and belonging to the sameperiod, is, 'Sagrir, or Doomsday drawing nigh; With Thunder andLightning to Lawyers, (1653) by John Rogers. '

Violent, even for a man holding Fifth-Monarchy views, John Rogersprefers a lengthy indictment against lawyers, for whose delinquenciesand heinous offence he admits neither apology nor palliation. In hisopinion all judges deserve the death of Arnold and Hall, whose lastmoments were provided for by the hangman. The wearers of the long robeare perjurers, thieves, enemies of mankind; their institutions arehateful, and their usages abominable. In olden time they were lesspowerful and rapacious. But prosperity soon exaggerated all their evilqualities. Sketching the rise of the profession, the authorobserves--"These men would get sometimes Parents, Friends, Brothers, Neighbors, sometimes _others_ to be (in their absence) Agents, Factors, or Solicitors for them at Westminster, and as yet they had no statelyhouses or mansions to live in, as they have now (called Inns of Court), but they lodged like countrymen or strangers in ordinary Inns. Butafterwards, when the interests of lawyers began to look big (as inEdward III. 's days), they got mansions or colleges, which they calledInns, and by the king's favor had an addition of honor, whence they werecalled Inns of Court. "[18]

The familiar anecdotes which are told as illustrations of Chief JusticeHale's integrity are very ridiculous, but they serve to show that thejudges of his time were believed to be very accessible to corruptinfluences. During his tenure of the Chiefship of the Exchequer, Halerode the Western Circuit, and met with the loyal reception usuallyaccorded to judges on circuit in his day. Amongst other attentionsoffered to the judges on this occasion was a present of venison from awealthy gentleman who was concerned in a cause that was in due coursecalled for hearing. No sooner was the call made than Chief Baron Haleresolved to place his reputation for judicial honesty above suspicion, and the following scene occurred:--

"_Lord Chief Baron. _--'Is this plaintiff the gentleman of the same namewho hath sent me the venison?' _Judge's servant. _--'Yes, please you, mylord. ' _Lord Chief Baron. _--'Stop a bit, then. Do not yet swear thejury. I cannot allow the trial to go on till I have paid him for hisbuck!' _Plaintiff. _--'I would have your lordship to know that neithermyself nor my forefathers have ever sold venison, and I have donenothing to your lordship which we have not done to every judge that hascome this circuit for centuries bygone. ' _Magistrate of theCounty. _--'My lord, I can confirm what the gentleman says for truth, fortwenty years back. ' _Other Magistrates. _--'And we, my lord, know thesame. ' _Lord Chief Baron. _--'That is nothing to me. The Holy Scripturesays, 'A gift perverteth the ways of judgment. ' I will not suffer thetrial to go on till the venison is paid for. Let my butler count downthe full value thereof. ' _Plaintiff. _--'I will not disgrace myself andmy ancestors by becoming a venison butcher. From the needless dread of_selling_ justice, your lordship _delays_ it. I withdraw my record. '"

As far as good taste and dignity were concerned, the gentleman of theWest Country was the victor in this absurd contest: on the other hand, Hale had the venison for nothing, and was relieved of the trouble ofhearing the cause. 

In the same manner Hale insisted on paying for six loaves of sugar whichthe Dean and Chapter of Salisbury sent to his lodgings, in accordancewith ancient usage. Similar cases of the judge's readiness to construecourtesies as bribes may be found in notices of trials and books of_ana_. 

_A propos_ of these stories of Hale's squeamishness, Lord Campbell tellsthe following good anecdote of Baron Graham: "The late Baron Grahamrelated to me the following anecdote to show that he had more firmnessthan Judge Hale:--'There was a baronet of ancient family with whom thejudges going the Western Circuit had always been accustomed to dine. When I went that circuit I heard that a cause, in which he wasplaintiff, was coming on for trial: but the usual invitation wasreceived, and lest the people might suppose that judges could beinfluenced by a dinner; I accepted it. The defendant, a neighboringsquire, being dreadfully alarmed by this intelligence, said to himself, 'Well, if Sir John entertains the judge hospitably, I do not see why Ishould not do the same by the jury. ' So he invited to dinner the wholeof the special jury summoned to try the cause. Thereupon the baronet'scourage failed him, and he withdrew the record, so that the cause wasnot tried; and although I had my dinner, I escaped all suspicion ofpartiality. "

This story puts the present writer in mind of another story which he hasheard told in various ways, the wit of it being attributed by differentnarrators to two judges who have left the bench for another world, and aMaster of Chancery who is still alive. On the present occasion theMaster of Chancery shall figure as the humorist of the anecdote. 

Less than twenty years since, in one of England's southern counties, twoneighboring landed proprietors differed concerning their respectiverights over some unenclosed land, and also about certain rights offishing in an adjacent stream. The one proprietor was the richestbaronet, the other the poorest squire of the county; and they agreed tosettle their dispute by arbitration. Our Master in Chancery, slightlyknown to both gentlemen, was invited to act as arbitrator afterinspecting the localities in dispute. The invitation was accepted andthe master visited the scene of disagreement, on the understanding thathe should give up two days to the matter. It was arranged that on thefirst day he should walk over the squire's estate, and hear the squire'suncontradicted version of the case, dining at the close of the day withboth contendents at the squire's table; and that on the second day, having walked over the baronet's estate, and heard without interruptionthe other side of the story, he should give his award, sitting over wineafter dinner at the rich man's table. At the close of the first day thesquire entertained his wealthy neighbor and the arbitrator at dinner. In accordance with the host's means, the dinner was modest butsufficient. It consisted of three fried soles, a roast leg of mutton, and vegetables; three pancakes, three pieces of cheese, three smallloaves of bread, ale, and a bottle of sherry. On the removal of theviands, three magnificent apples, together with a magnum of port, wereplaced on the table by way of dessert. At the close of the second daythe trio dined at the baronet's table, when it appeared that, struck bythe simplicity of the previous day's dinner, and rightly attributing theabsence of luxuries to the narrowness of the host's purse, the wealthydisputant had resolved not to attempt to influence the umpire by givinghim a superior repast. Sitting at another table the trio dined onexactly the same fare, --three fried soles, a roast leg of mutton, andvegetables; three pancakes, three pieces of cheese, three small loavesof bread, ale, and a bottle of sherry; and for dessert three magnificentapples, together with a magnum of port. The dinner being over, theapples devoured, and the last glass of port drunk, the arbitrator (hiseyes twinkling brightly as he spoke) introduced his award with thefollowing exordium:--"Gentlemen, I have with all proper attentionconsidered your _sole_ reasons: I have taken due notice of your _joint_reasons, and I have come to the conclusion that your _des(s)erts_ areabout equal. "

[17] Of these renderings the subjoined may be taken as favorablespecimens:--"Breve originale, original sinne; capias, a catch to a sadtune; alias capias, another to the same (sad tune); habeas corpus, atrooper; capias ad satisfaciend. , a hangman: latitat, bo-peep; nisiprius, first come first served; demurrer, hum and haw; scandal. Magnat. , down with the Lords. "

[18] Even vacations stink in the nostrils of Mr. Rogers; for hemaintains that they are not so much periods when lawyers cease fromtheir odious practices, as times of repose and recreation wherein theygain fresh vigor and daring for the commission of further outrages, andallow their unhappy victims to acquire just enough wealth to render themworth the trouble of despoiling. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

CHIEF JUSTICE POPHAM. 

One of the strangest cases of corruption amongst English Judges stillremains to be told on the slender authority which is the sole foundationof the weighty accusation. In comparatively recent times there have notbeen many eminent Englishmen to whom 'tradition's simple tongue' hasbeen more hostile than Queen Elizabeth's Lord Chief Justice, Popham. Theyounger son of a gentle family, John Popham passed from Oxford to theMiddle Temple, raised himself to the honors of the ermine, secured theadmiration of illustrious contemporaries, in his latter years gainedabundant praise for wholesome severity towards footpads, and at hisdeath left behind him a name--which, tradition informs us, belonged to aman who in his reckless youth, and even after his call to the bar, was acut-purse and highwayman. In mitigation of his conduct it is urged bythose who credit the charge, that young gentlemen of his date were somuch addicted to the lawless excitement of the road, that when he wasstill a beardless stripling, an act (1 Ed. VI. C. 12, s. 14) was passed, whereby any peer of the realm or lord of parliament, on a firstconviction for robbery, was entitled to benefit of clergy, though hecould not read. But bearing in mind the liberties which rumor is wont totake with the names of eminent persons, the readiness the multitudealways display to attribute light morals to grave men, and theinfrequency of the cases where a dissolute youth is the prelude to amanhood of strenuous industry and an old age of honor--the cautiousreader will require conclusive testimony before he accepts Popham'sconnection with 'the road' as one of the unassailable facts of history. 

The authority for this grave charge against a famous judge is JohnAubrey, the antiquary, who was born in 1627, just twenty years afterPopham's death. "For severall yeares, " this collector says of the ChiefJustice, "he addicted himself but little to the studie of the lawes, butprofligate company, and was wont to take a purse with them. His wifeconsidered her and his condition, and at last prevailed with him tolead another life and to stick to the studie of the lawe, which, uponher importunity, he did, being then about thirtie yours old. " As Pophamwas born in 1531, he withdrew, according to this account, from thecompany of gentle highwaymen about the year 1561--more than sixty yearsbefore Aubrey's birth, and more than a hundred years before thecollector committed the scandalous story to writing. The worth of suchtestimony is not great. Good stories are often fixed upon eminent menwho had no part in the transactions thereby attributed to them. If thiswriter were to put into a private note-book a pleasant but unauthorizedanecdote imputing _kleptomania_ to Chief Justice Wiles (who died in1761), and fifty years hence the note-book should be discovered in adirty corner of a forgotten closet and published to the world--wouldreaders in the twentieth century be justified in holding that Sir JohnWilles was an eccentric thief?

But Aubrey tells a still stranger story concerning Popham, when he setsforth the means by which the judge made himself lord of Littlecote Hallin Wiltshire. The case must be given in the narrator's own words. 

"Sir Richard Dayrell of Littlecot in com. Wilts. Having got his lady'swaiting-woman with child, when her travell came sent a servant with ahorse for a midwife, whom he was to bring hoodwinked. She was brought, and layd the woman; but as soon as the child was born, she saw theknight take the child and murther it, and burn it in the fire in thechamber. She having done her business was extraordinarily rewarded forher paines, and went blindfold away. This horrid action did much run inher mind, and she had a desire to discover it, but knew not where 'twas. She considered with herself the time she was riding, and how many milesshe might have rode at that rate in that time, and that it must be somegreat person's house, for the roome was twelve foot high: and sheshould know the chamber if she sawe it. She went to a justice of peace, and search was made. The very chamber found. The knight was brought tohis tryall; and, to be short, this judge had this noble house, park, andmanor, and (I think) more, for a bribe to save his life. Sir John Pophamgave sentence according to lawe, but being a great person and afavorite, he procured a _nolle prosequi_. "

This ghastly tale of crime following upon crime has been reproduced bylater writers with various exaggerations and modifications. Dramas andnovels have been founded upon it; and a volume might be made of theballads and songs to which it has given birth. In some versions thecorrupt judge does not even go through the form of passing sentence, butsecures an acquittal from the jury; according to one account, themother, instead of the infant, was put to death; according to another, the erring woman was the murderer's daughter, instead of his wife'swaiting-woman; another writer, assuming credit as a conscientiousnarrator of facts, places the crime in the eighteenth instead of thesixteenth century, and transforms the venal judge into a cleverbarrister. 

In a highly seasoned statement of the repulsive tradition communicatedby Lord Webb Seymour to Walter Scott, the murder is described withhideous minuteness. 

Changing the midwife into 'a Friar of orders grey, ' and murdering themother instead of the baby, Sir Walter Scott revived the story in one ofhis most popular ballads. But of all the versions of the tradition thathave come under this writer's notice, the one that departs most widelyfrom Aubrey's statement is given in Mr. G. L. Rede's 'Anecdotes andBiography, ' (1799). 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

JUDICIAL SALARIES. 

For the last three hundred years the law has been a lucrativeprofession, our great judges during that period having in many instancesleft behind them large fortunes, earned at the bar or acquired fromofficial emoluments. The rental of Egerton's landed estates was £8, 000per annum--a royal income in the days of Elizabeth and James. Maynardleft great wealth to his grand-daughters, Lady Hobart and Mary Countessof Stamford. Lord Mansfield's favorite investment was mortgage; andtowards the close of his life the income which he derived for moneyslent on sound mortgages was £30, 000 per annum. When Lord Kenyon had losthis eldest son, he observed to Mr. Justice Allan Park--"How delightedGeorge would be to take his poor brother from the earth and restore himto life, although he receives £250, 000 by his decease. " Lord Eldon issaid to have left to his descendants £500, 000; and his brother, LordStowell, to whom we are indebted for the phrase 'the elegant simplicityof the Three per Cents. , ' also acquired property that at the time of hisdeath yielded £12, 000 per annum. 

Lord Stowell's personalty was sworn under £230, 000, and he had investedconsiderable sums in land. It is noteworthy that this rich lawyer didnot learn to be contented with the moderate interest of the Three perCents. Until he had sustained losses from bad speculations. Notable alsois it that this rich lawyer--whose notorious satisfaction with three percent. Interest has gained for him a reputation of noble indifference togain--was inordinately fond of money. 

These great fortunes were raised from fees taken in practice at thebar, from judicial salaries or pensions, and from other officialgains--such as court dues, perquisites, sinecures, and allowances. Sincethe Revolution of 1688 these last named irregular or fluctuating sourcesof judicial income have steadily diminished, and in the present day havecome to an end. Eldon's receipts during his tenure of the seals cannotbe definitely stated, but more is known about them and his earnings atthe bar than he intended the world to discover, when he declared inParliament "that in no one year, since he had been made Lord Chancellor, had he received the same amount of profit which he enjoyed while at thebar. " Whilst he was Attorney General he earned something more than£10, 000 a year; and in returns which he himself made to the House ofCommons, he admits that in 1810 he received, as Lord Chancellor, a grossincome of £22, 730, from which sum, after deduction of all expenses, there remained a net income of £17, 000 per annum. He was enabled also toenrich the members of his family with presentations to offices, andreversions of places. 

Until comparatively recent times, judges were dangerously dependent onthe king's favor; for they not only held their offices during thepleasure of the crown, but on dismissal they could not claim a retiringpension. In the seventeenth century, an aged judge, worn out by toil andlength of days, was deemed a notable instance of royal generosity, if heobtained a small allowance on relinquishing his place in court. ChiefJustice Hale, on his retirement, was signally favored when Charles II. Graciously promised to continue his salary till the end of hislife--which was manifestly near its close. Under the Stuarts, the judgeswho lost their places for courageous fidelity to law, were wont toresume practice at the bar. To provide against the consequences ofejection from office, great lawyers, before they consented to exchangethe gains of advocacy for the uncertain advantages of the woolsack, usedto stipulate for special allowance--over and above the ancientemoluments of place. Lord Nottingham had an allowance of £4000 perannum; and Lord Guildford, after a struggle for better times, wasconstrained, at a cost of mental serenity, to accept the seals, with aspecial salary of half that sum. [19]

From 1688 down to the present time, the chronicler of changes in thelegal profession, has to notice a succession of alterations in thesystem and scale of judicial payments--all of the innovations having atendency to raise the dignity of the bench. Under William and Mary, anallowance (still continued), was made to holders of the seal on theirappointment, for the cost of outfit and equipages. The amount of thisspecial aid was £2000, but fees reduced it to £1843 13_s. _ Mr. Fossobserves--"The earliest existing record of this allowance, is dated June4, 1700, when Sir Nathan Wright was made Lord Keeper, which states it tobe the same sum as had been allowed to his predecessor. "

At the same period, the salary of a puisne judge was but £1000 a year--asum that would have been altogether insufficient for his expenses. Aconsiderable part of a puisne's remuneration consisted of fees, perquisites, and presents. Amongst the customary presents to judges atthis time, may be mentioned the _white gloves_, which men convicted ofmanslaughter, presented to the judges when they pleaded the king'spardon; the _sugar loaves_, which the Warden of the Fleet annually sentto the judges of the Common Pleas; and the almanacs yearly distributedamongst the occupants of the bench by the Stationers' Company. From oneof these almanacs, in which Judge Rokeby kept his accounts, it appearsthat in the year 1694, the casual profits of his place amounted to £694, 4_s. _ 6_d. _ Here is the list of his official incomes, (net) for tenyears:--in 1689, £1378, 10_s. _; in 1690, £1475, 10_s. _ 10_d. _; in 1691, £2063, 18_s. _ 4_d. _; in 1692, £1570, 1_s. _ 4_d. _; in 1693, £1569, 13_s. _1_d. _; in 1694, £1629, 4_s. _ 6_d. _; in 1695, £1443, 7_s. _ 6_d. _; in1696, £1478, 2_s. _ 6_d. _; in 1697, £1498, 11_s. _ 11_d. _; in 1698, £1631, 10_s. _ 11_d. _ The fluctuation of the amounts in this list, is worthy ofobservation; as it points to one bad consequence of the system of payingjudges by fees, gratuities, and uncertain perquisites. A needy judge, whose income in lucky years was over two thousand pounds, must have beensadly pinched in years when he did not receive fifteen hundred. 

Under the heading, "The charges of my coming into my judge's place, andthe taxes upon it the first yeare and halfe, " Judge Rokeby gives thefollowing particulars:

"1689, May 11. To Mr. Milton, Deputy Clerk of the Crown, as per note, for the patent and swearing privately, £21, 6_s. _ 4_d. _ May 30. To Mr. English, charges of the patent at the Secretary of State's Office, asper note, said to be a new fee, £6, 10_s. _ Inrolling the patent inExchequer and Treasury, £2, 3_s. _ 4_d. _ Ju. 27. Wine given as a judge, as per vintner's note, £23, 19_s. _ Ju. 24. Cakes, given as a judge, asper vintner's note, £5, 14_s. _ 6_d. _ Second-hand judge's robes, withsome new lining, £31. Charges for my part of the patent for our salarys, to Aaron Smith, £7, 15_s. _, and the dormant warrant £3. --£10, 15_s. _--£101, 8_s. _ 2_d. _

"Taxes, £420. 

"The charges of my being made a serjeant-at-law, and of removing myselfeand family to London, and a new coach and paire of horses, and of myknighthood (all which were within the first halfe year of my coming fromYork), upon the best calculation I can make of them, were att least£600. "

Concerning the expenses attendant on his removal from the Common Pleasto the King's Bench in 1695--a removal which had an injurious resultupon his income--the judge records: Nov. 1. To Mr. Partridge, the Crierof King's Bench, claimed by him as a fee due to the 2 criers, £2. Nov. 12. To Mr. Ralph Hall, in full of the Clerk of the Crown's bill for mypatent, and swearing at the Lord Keeper's, and passing it through theoffices, £28, 14_s. _ 2_d. _ Dec. 6. To Mr. Carpenter, the Vintner, forwine and bottles, £22, 10_s. _ 6_d. _ To Gwin, the Confectioner, forcakes, £5, 3_s. _ 6_d. _ To Mr. Mand (his clerk), which he paid att theTreasury, and att the pell for my patent, allowed there, £1, 15_s. _ Tot. £60, 2_s. _ 8_d. _ The charges for wine and cakes were consequences of acustom which required a new judge to send biscuits and macaroons, sackand claret, to his brethren of the bench. 

In the reign of George I. The salaries of the common law judges wereraised--the pensions of the chiefs being doubled, and the _puisnes_receiving fifteen hundred instead of a thousand pounds. 

Cowper's incomes during his tenure of the seals varied between somethingover seven and something under nine thousand per annum: but there issome reason to believe that on accepting office, he stipulated for ahandsome yearly salary, in case he should be called upon to relinquishthe place. Evelyn, not a very reliable authority, but still a chroniclerworthy of notice even on questions of fact, says:--"Oct. 1705. Mr. Cowper made Lord Keeper. Observing how uncertain greate officers are ofcontinuing long in their places, he would not accept it unless £2, 000 ayeare were given him in reversion when he was put out, in considerationof his loss of practice. His predecessors, how little time soever theyhad the seal, usually got £100, 000, and made themselves barons. " It isdoubtful whether this bargain was actually made; but long afterCowper's time, lawyers about to mount the woolsack, insisted on havingterms that should compensate them for loss of practice. LordMacclesfield had a special salary of £4000 per annum, during hisoccupancy of the marble chair, and obtained a grant of £12, 000 from theking;--a tellership in the Exchequer being also bestowed upon his eldestson. Lord King obtained even better terms--a salary of £6000 per annumfrom the Post Office, and £1200 from the Hanaper Office; this largeincome being granted to him in consideration of the injury done to theChancellor's emoluments by the proceedings against LordMacclesfield--whereby it was declared illegal for chancellors to sellthe subordinate offices in the Court of Chancery. This arrangement--givingthe Chancellor an increased salary in _lieu_ of the sums which he couldno longer raise by sales of offices--is conclusive testimony that inthe opinion of the crown Lord Macclesfield had a right to sell themasterships. The terms made by Lord Northington, in 1766, onresigning the Seals and becoming President of the Council, illustratethis custom. On quitting the marble chair, he obtained an immediatepension of £2000 per annum; and an agreement that the annual paymentshould be made £4000 per annum, as soon as he retired from thePresidency: he also obtained a reversionary grant for two lives of thelucrative office of Clerk of the Hanaper in Chancery. 

In Lord Chancellor King's time, amongst the fees and perquisites whichhe wished to regulate and reform were the supplies of stationery, provided by the country for the great law-officers. It may be supposedthat the sum thus expended on paper, pens, and wax was an insignificantitem in the national expenditure; but such was not the case--for thechief of the courts were accustomed to place their personal friends onthe free-list for articles of stationery. The Archbishop of Dublin, adignitary well able to pay for his own writing materials, wrote to LordKing, April 10, 1733: "MY LORD, --Ever since I had the honor of beingacquainted with Lord Chancellors, I have lived in England and Irelandupon Chancery paper, pens, and wax. I am not willing to lose an oldadvantageous custom. If your Lordship hath any to spare me by myservant, you will oblige your very humble servant, "JOHN DUBLIN. "

So long as judges or subordinate officers were paid by casualperquisites and fees, paid directly to them by suitors, a taint ofcorruption lingered in the practice of our courts. Long after judgesceased to sell injustice, they delayed justice from interested motives, and when questions concerning their perquisites were raised, they wouldsometimes strain a point, for the sake of their own private advantage. Even Lord Ellenborough, whose fame is bright amongst the reputations ofhonorable men, could not always exercise self-control when attempts weremade to lessen his customary profits, "I never, " writes Lord Campbell, "saw this feeling at all manifest itself in Lord Ellenborough exceptonce, when a question arose whether money paid into court was liable topoundage. I was counsel in the case, and threw him into a furiouspassion, by strenuously resisting the demand; the poundage was to gointo his own pocket--being payable to the chief clerk--an office held intrust for him. If he was in any degree influenced by this consideration, I make no doubt that he was wholly unconscious of it. "

George III. 's reign witnessed the introduction of changes long required, and frequently demanded in the mode and amounts of judicial payments. In1779, puisne judges and barons received an additional £400 per annum, and the Chief Baron an increase of £500 a year. Twenty years later, Stat. 39, Geo. III. , c. 110, gave the Master of the Rolls, £4000 ayear, the Lord Chief Baron £4000 a year, and each of the puisne judgesand barons, £3000 per annum. By the same act also, life-pensions of£4000 per annum were secured to retiring holders of the seal, and it wasprovided that after fifteen years of service, or in case of incurableinfirmity, the Chief Justice of the King's Bench could claim, onretirement, £3000 per annum, the Master of the Rolls, Chief of CommonPleas, and Chief Baron £2500 per annum, and each minor judge of thosecourts or Baron of the coif, £2000 a year. In 1809, (49 Geo. III. , c. 127) the Lord Chief Baron's annual salary was raised to £5000; whilst ayearly stipend of £4000 was assigned to each puisne judge or baron. By53 Geo. III. , c. 153, the Chiefs and Master of the Rolls, received onretirement an additional yearly £800, and the puisnes an additionalyearly £600. A still more important reform of George III. 's reign wasthe creation of the first Vice Chancellor in March, 1813. Rank wasassigned to the new functionary next after the Master of the Rolls, andhis salary was fixed at £5000 per annum. 

Until the reign of George IV. Judges continued to take fees andperquisites; but by 6 Geo. IV. C. 82, 83, 84, it was arranged that thefees should be paid into the Exchequer, and that the undernamed greatofficers of justice should receive the following salaries and pensionson retirement:--

 An. Pension An. Sal. On retirement. 

Lord Chief Justice of King's Bench £10, 000 £4000Lord Chief Justice of Common Pleas 8000 3750The Master of the Rolls 7000 3750The Vice Chancellor of England 6000 3750The Chief Baron of the Exchequer 7000 3750Each Puisne Baron or Judge 5500 3500

Moreover by this Act, the second judge of the King's Bench wasentitled, as in the preceding reign, to £40 for giving charge to thegrand jury in each term, and pronouncing judgment on malefactors. 

The changes with regard to judicial salaries under William IV. Werecomparatively unimportant. By 2 and 3 Will. IV. C. 116, the salaries ofpuisne judges and barons were reduced to £5000 a year; and by 2 and 3Will. IV. C. 111, the Chancellor's pension, on retirement, was raised to£5000, the additional £1000 per annum being assigned to him incompensation of loss of patronage occasioned by the abolition of certainoffices. These were the most noticeable of William's provisions withregard to the payment of his judges. 

The present reign, which has generously given the country two newjudges, called Lord Justices, two additional Vice Chancellors, and aswarm of paid justices, in the shape of county court judges andstipendiary magistrates, has exercised economy with regard to judicialsalaries. The annual stipends of the two Chief Justices, fixed in 1825at £10, 000 for the Chief of the King's Bench, and £8000 for the Chief ofthe Common Pleas, have been reduced, in the former case to £8000 perannum, in the latter to £7000 per annum. The Chancellor's salary for hisservices as Speaker of the House of Lords, has been made part of the£10, 000 assigned to his legal office; so that his income is no more thanten thousand a year. The salary of the Master of the Rolls has beenreduced from £7000 to £6000 a year; the same stipend, together with apension on retirement of £3750, being assigned to each of the LordsJustices. The salary of a Vice Chancellor is £5000 per annum; and afterfifteen years' service, or in case of incurable sickness, rendering himunable to discharge the functions of his office, he can retire with apension of £3500. 

Thurlow had no pension on retirement; but with much justice LordCampbell observes: "Although there was no parliamentary retiredallowance for ex-Chancellors, they were better off than at present. Thurlow was a Teller of the Exchequer, and had given sinecures to allhis relations, for one of which his nephew now receives a commutation of£9000 a year. " Lord Loughborough was the first ex-Chancellor whoenjoyed, on retirement, a pension of £4000 per annum, under Stat. 39Geo. III. C. 110. The next claimant for an ex-Chancellor's pension wasEldon, on his ejection from office in 1806; and the third claimant wasErskine, whom the possession of the pension did not preserve from thehumiliation of indigence. 

Eldon's obstinate tenacity of office, was attended with one good result. It saved the nation much money by keeping down the number ofex-Chancellors entitled to £4000 per annum. The frequency with whichGovernments have been changed during the last forty years has had acontrary effect, producing such a strong bevy of lawyers--who arepensioners as well as peers--that financial reformers are loudly askingif some scheme cannot be devised for lessening the number of thesecostly and comparatively useless personages. At the time when this pageis written, there are four ex-Chancellors in receipt of pensions--LordsBrougham, St. Leonards, Cranworth, and Westbury; but death has recentlydiminished the roll of Chancellors by removing Lords Truro andLyndhurst. Not long since the present writer read a very able, butone-sided article in a liberal newspaper that gave the sum total spentby the country since Lord Eldon's death in ex-Chancellors' pensions; andin simple truth it must be admitted that the bill was a fearful subjectfor contemplation. 

[19] During the Commonwealth, the people, unwilling to pay their judgesliberally, decided that a thousand a year was a sufficient income for aLord Commissioner of the Great Seal. 

PART IV. 

COSTUME AND TOILET. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

BRIGHT AND SAD. 

From the days of the Conqueror's Chancellor, Baldrick, who is reputed tohave invented and christened the sword-belt that bears his name, lawyershave been conspicuous amongst the best dressed men of their times. Formany generations clerical discipline restrained the members of the barfrom garments of lavish costliness and various colors, unless high rankand personal influence placed them above the fear of censure andpunishment; but as soon as the law became a lay-profession, itsmembers--especially those who were still young--eagerly seized thenewest fashions of costume, and expended so much time and money onpersonal decoration, that the governors of the Inns deemed it expedientto make rules, with a view to check the inordinate love of gay apparel. 

By these enactments, foppish modes of dressing the hair wasdiscountenanced or forbidden, not less than the use of gaudy clothes andbright arms. Some of these regulations have a quaint air to readers ofthis generation; and as indications of manners in past times, theydeserve attention. 

From Dugdale's 'Origines Juridiciales, ' it appears that in the earlierpart of Henry VIII. 's reign, the students and barristers of the Innswere allowed great licence in settling for themselves minor points ofcostume; but before that paternal monarch died, this freedom waslessened. Accepting the statements of a previous chronicler, Dugdaleobserves of the members of the Middle Temple under Henry--"They have noorder for their apparell; but every man may go as him listeth, so thathis apparell pretend no lightness or wantonness in the wearer; for, evenas his apparell doth shew him to be, even so he shall be esteemed amongthem. " But at the period when this licence was permitted in respect ofcostume, the general discipline of the Inn was scandalously lax; thevery next paragraph of the 'Origines' showing that the templars forboreto shut their gates at night, whereby "their chambers were oftentimesrobbed, and many other misdemeanors used. "

But measures were taken to rectify the abuses and evil manners of theschools. In the thirty-eighth year of Henry VIII. An order was made"that the gentlemen of this company" (_i. E. _, the Inner Temple) "shouldreform themselves in their cut or disguised apparel, and not to havelong beards. And that the Treasurer of this society should confer withthe other Treasurers of Court for an uniform reformation. " Theauthorities of Lincoln's Inn had already bestirred themselves to reducethe extravagances of dress and toilet which marked their younger andmore frivolous fellow-members. "And for decency in Apparel, " writesDugdale, concerning Lincoln's Inn, "at a council held on the day of theNativity of St. John the Baptist, 23 Hen. VIII. It was ordered that fora continual rule, to be thenceforth kept in this house, no gentleman, being a fellow of this house, should wear any cut or pansid hose, orbryches; or pansid doublet, upon pain of putting out of the house. "

Ten years later the authorities of Lincoln's Inn (33 Hen. VIII. ) orderedthat no member of the society "being in commons, or at his repast, should wear a beard; and whoso did, to pay double commons or repasts inthis house during such time as he should have any beard. "

By an order of 5 Maii, 1 and 2 Philip and Mary, the gentlemen of theInner Temple were forbidden to wear long beards, no member of thesociety being permitted to wear a beard of more than three weeks'growth. Every breach of this law was punished by the heavy fine oftwenty shillings. In 4 and 5 of Philip and Mary it was ordered that nomember of the Middle Temple "should thenceforth wear any great brychesin their hoses, made after the Dutch, Spanish, or Almon fashion; orlawnde upon their capps; or cut doublets, upon pain of iiis iiiidforfaiture for the first default, and the second time to be expelled thehouse. " At Lincoln's Inn, "in 1 and 2 Philip and Mary, one Mr Wyde, ofthis house, was (by special order made upon Ascension day) fined at fivegroats, for going in his study gown in Cheapside, on a Sunday, about teno'clock before noon; and in Westminister Hall, in the Term time, in theforenoon. " Mr. Wyde's offence was one of remissness rather than ofexcessive care for his personal appearance. With regard to beards in thesame reign Lincoln's Inn exacted that such members "as had beards shouldpay 12_d. _ for every meal they continued them; and every man" wasrequired "to be shaven upon pain of putting out of commons. "

The orders made under Elizabeth with regard to the same or similarmatters are even more humorous and diverse. At the Inner Temple "it wasordered in 36 Elizabeth (16 Junii), that if any fellow in commons, orlying in the Louse, did wear either hat or cloak in the Temple Church, hall, buttry, kitchen, or at the buttry-barr, dresser, or in the garden, he should forfeit for every such offence vis viiid. And in 42 Eliz. (8Febr. ) that they go not in cloaks, hatts, bootes, and spurs into thecity, but when they ride out of the town. " This order was mostdispleasing to the young men of the legal academies, who were given toswaggering amongst the brave gallants of city ordinaries, and delightedin showing their rich attire at Paul's. The Templar of the Inner Templewho ventured to wear arms (except his dagger) in hall committed a graveoffence, and was fined five pounds. "No fellow of this house should comeinto the hall" it was enacted at the Inner Temple, 38 Eliz. (20 Dec. )"with any weapons, except his dagger, or his knife, upon pain offorfeiting the sum of five pounds. " In old time the lawyers oftenquarrelled and drew swords in hall; and the object of this regulationdoubtless was to diminish the number of scandalous affrays. The MiddleTemple, in 26 Eliz. , made six prohibitory rules with regard to apparel, enacting, "1. That no ruff should be worn. 2. Nor any White color indoublets or hoses. 3. Nor any facing of velvet in gownes, but by such aswere of the bench. 4. That no gentleman should walk in the streets intheir cloaks, but in gownes. 5. That no hat, or long, or curled hair beworn. 6. Nor any gown, but such as were of a sad color. " Of similarorders made at Gray's Inn, during Elizabeth's reign, the following edictof 42 Eliz. (Feb. 11) may be taken as a specimen:--"That no gentleman ofthis society do come into the hall, to any meal, with their hats, boots, or spurs; but with their caps, decently and orderly, according to theancient order of this house: upon pain, for every offence, to forfeitiiis 4d, and for the third offence expulsion. Likewise, that nogentleman of this society do go into the city, or suburbs, or to walk inthe Fields, otherwise than in his gown, according to the ancient usageof the gentlemen of the Inns of Court, upon penalty of iiis iiiid forevery offence; and for the third, expulsion and loss of his chamber. "

At Lincoln's Inn it was enacted, "in 38 Eliz. , that if any Fellow ofthis House, being a commoner or repaster, should within the precinct ofthis house wear any cloak, boots and spurs, or long hair, he should payfor every offence five shillings for a fine, and also to be put out ofcommons. " The attempt to put down beards at Lincoln's Inn failed. Dugdale says, in his notes on that Inn, "And in 1 Eliz. It was furtherordered, that no fellow of this house should wear any beard above afortnight's growth; and that whoso transgresses therein should for thefirst offence forfeit 3_s. _ 4d. , to be paid and cast with his commons;and for the second time 6_s_ 8d. , in like manner to be paid and cast withhis commons; and the third time to be banished the house. But thefashion at that time of wearing beards grew then so predominant, as thatthe very next year following, at a council held at this house, upon the27th of November, it was agreed and ordered, that all orders before thattime touching beards should be void and repealed. " In the same year inwhich the authorities of Lincoln's Inn forbade the wearing of beards, they ordered that no fellow of their society "should wear any sword orbuckler; or cause any to be born after him into the town. " This was thefirst of the seven orders made in 1 Eliz. For _all_ the Inns of Court;of which orders the sixth runs thus:--"That none should wear any velvetupper cap, neither in the house nor city. And that none after the firstday of January then ensuing, should wear any furs, nor any manner ofsilk in their apparel, otherwise than he could justifie by the statureof apparel, made _an. _ 24 H. 8, under the penalty aforesaid. " In theeighth year of the following reign it was ordained at Lincoln's Inn"that no rapier should be worn in this house by any of the society. "

Other orders made in the reign of James I. , and similar enactmentspassed by the Inns in still more recent periods, can be readily found onreference to Dugdale and later writers upon the usages of lawyers. 

On such matters, however, fashion is all-powerful; and however grandlythe benchers of an Inn might talk in their council-chamber, they couldnot prevail on their youngsters to eschew beards when beards were themode, or to crop the hair of their heads when long tresses were worn bygallants at court. Even in the time of Elizabeth--when authority wasmost anxious that utter-barristers should in matters of costume maintainthat reputation for 'sadness' which is the proverbial characteristic ofapprentices of the law--counsellors of various degrees were conspicuousthroughout the town for brave attire. If we had no other evidencebearing on the point, knowledge of human nature would make us certainthat the bar imitated Lord Chancellor Hatton's costume. At Gray's Inn, Francis Bacon was not singular in loving rich clothes, and running intodebt for satin and velvet, jewels and brocade, lace and feathers. Evenof that contemner of frivolous men and vain pursuits, Edward Coke, biography assures us, "The jewel of his mind was put into a fair case, abeautiful body with comely countenance; a case which he did wipe andkeep clean, delighting in good clothes, well worn; being wont to saythat the outward neatness of our bodies might be a monitor of purity toour souls. "

The courts of James I. And his son drew some of their most splendid fopsfrom the multitude of young men who were enjoined by the elders of theirprofession to adhere to a costume that was a compromise between the garbof an Oxford scholar and the guise of a London 'prentice. The same wasthe case with Charles II. 's London. Students and barristers outshone thebrightest idlers at Whitehall, whilst within the walls of their Innsbenchers still made a faint show of enforcing old restrictions uponcostume. At a time when every Templar in society wore hair--eithernatural or artificial--long and elaborately dressed, Sir William Dugdalewrote, "To the office of the chief butler" (_i. E. _, of the MiddleTemple) "it likewise appertaineth to take the names of those that beabsent at the said solemn revells, and to present them to the bench, asalso inform the bench of such as wear hats, bootes, _long hair_, or thelike (for the which he is commonly out of the young gentlemen's favor). "

CHAPTER XX. 

MILLINERY. 

Saith Sir William Dugdale, in his chapter concerning the personal attireof judges--"That peculiar and decent vestments have, from greatantiquity, been used in religious services, we have the authority ofGod's sacred precept to Moses, '_Thou shall make holy rayments for Aaronand his sons, that are to minister unto me, that they may be for gloryand beauty_. '" In this light and flippant age there are men irreverentenough to smile at the habiliments which our judges wear in court, forthe glory of God and the seemly embellishment of their own naturalbeauty. 

Like the stuff-gown of the utter-barrister, the robes of English judgesare of considerable antiquity; but antiquaries labor in vain to discoverall the facts relating to their origin and history. Mr. Foss says thatat the Stuart Restoration English judges resumed the robes worn by theirpredecessors since the time of Edward I. ; but though the judicial robesof the present day bear a close resemblance to the vestments worn bythat king's judges, the costume of the bench has undergone manyvariations since the twentieth year of his reign. 

In the eleventh year of Richard II. A distinction was made between thecostumes of the chiefs of the King's Bench and Common Pleas and theirassistant justices; and at the same time the Chief Baron's inferiorityto the Chief Justices was marked by costume. 

Henry VI. 's Chief Justice of the King's Bench, Sir John Fortescue, inhis delightful treatise 'De Laudibus Legum Angliæ, ' describes theceremony attending the creation of a justice, and minutely sets forththe chief items of judicial costume in the Bench and Common Pleas duringhis time. "Howbeit, " runs Robert Mulcaster's rendering of the 'DeLaudibus, ' "the habite of his rayment, hee shall from time to timeforwarde, in some pointes change, but not in all the ensignmentsthereof. For beeing serjeaunt at lawe, hee was clothed in a long robepriestlyke, with a furred cape about his shoulders, and thereupon ahoode with two labels such as Doctours of the Lawes use to weare incertayne universityes, with the above described quoyfe. But being oncemade a justice, in steede of his hoode, hee shall weare a cloake cloasedupon his righte shoulder, all the other ornaments of a serjeant stillremayning; sauing that a justyce shall weare no partye coloured vestureas a serjeant may. And his cape is furred with none other than menever, whereas the serjeant's cape is ever furred with whyte lambe. "

Judicial costume varied with the fashion of the day or the whim of thesovereign in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Subsequentgenerations saw the introduction of other changes; and in the time ofCharles I. Questions relating to the attire of the common law judgeswere involved in so much doubt, and surrounded with so manycontradictory precedents and traditions, that the judges resolved tosimplify matters by conference and unanimous action. The result of theirdeliberation was a decree, dated June 6, 1635, to which Sir JohnBramston, Chief of the King's Bench, Sir John Finch, Chief of the CommonPleas, Sir Humphrey Davenport, Chief of the Exchequer, and all the minorjudges of the three courts, gave subscription. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

WIGS. 

The changes effected in judicial costume during the Commonwealth, likethe reformation introduced at the same period into the language of thelaw, were all reversed in 1660, when Charles II. 's judges resumed theattire and usages of their predecessors in the first Charles's reign. When he had satisfied himself that monarchical principles were sure ofan enduring triumph, and that their victory would conduce to his ownadvantage, great was young Samuel Pepys's delight at seeing the ancientcustoms of the lawyers restored, one after another. In October, 1660, hehad the pleasure of seeing "the Lord Chancellor and all the judgesriding on horseback, and going to Westminster Hall, it being the firstday of term. " In the February of 1663-4 his eyes were gladdened by therevival of another old practice. "28th (Lord's Day). Up and walked toSt. Paul's, " he writes, "and, by chance, it was an extraordinary day forthe Readers of Inns of the Court and all the Students to come to church, it being an old ceremony not used these twenty-five years, upon thefirst Sunday in Lent. Abundance there was of students, more than therewas room to seat but upon forms, and the church mighty full. One Hawkinspreached, an Oxford man, a good sermon upon these words, 'But the wisdomfrom above is first pure, then peaceable. '" Hawkins was no doubt ahumorist, and smiled in the sleeve of his Oxford gown as he told thelaw-students that _peace_ characterized the highest sort of _wisdom_. 

But, notwithstanding their zeal in reviving old customs, the lawyers ofthe Restoration introduced certain novelties into legal life. From Paristhey imported the wig which still remains one of the distinctiveadornments of the English barrister; and from the same centre ofcivilization they introduced certain refinements of cookery, which hadbeen hitherto unknown in the taverns of Fleet Street and the Strand. Inthe earlier part of the 'merry monarch's' reign, the eating-house mostpopular with young barristers and law-students was kept by a French cooknamed Chattelin, who, besides entertaining his customers with delicatefare and choice wine, enriched our language with the word 'cutlet'--inhis day spelt costelet. 

In the seventeenth century, until wigs were generally adopted, thecommon law judges, like their precursors for several past generations, wore in court velvet caps, coifs, and cornered caps. Pictures preserveto us the appearance of justices, with their heads covered by one or twoof these articles of dress, the moustache in many instances adorning thelip, and a well-trimmed beard giving point to the judicial chin. Themore common head-dress was the coif and coif-cap, of which it isnecessary to say a few words. 

The coif was a covering for the head, made of white lawn or silk, andcommon law judges wore it as a sign that they were members of thelearned brotherhood of sergeants. Speaking of the sergeants, Fortescue, in his 'De Laudibus, ' says--"Wherefore to this state and degree hath noman beene hitherto admitted, except he hath first continued by the spaceof sixteene years in the said generall studio of the law, and in tokenor signe, that all justices are thus graduat, every one of them alwaies, while he sitteth in the Kinge's Courts, weareth a white quoyfe of silke;which is the principal and chiefe insignment of habite, wherewithserjeants-at-lawe in their creation are decked. And neither the justice, nor yet the serjeaunt, shall ever put off the quoyfe, no not in thekinge's presence, though he bee in talke with his majestie's highnesse. "At times it was no easy matter to take the coif from the head; for thewhite drapery was fixed to its place with strings, which in the case ofone notorious rascal were not untied without difficulty. In Henry III. 'sreign, when William de Bossy was charged in open court with corruptionand dishonesty, he claimed the benefit of clerical orders, andendeavored to remove his coif in order that he might display histonsure; but before he could effect his purpose, an officer of the courtseized him by the throat and dragged him off to prison. "Voluit, " saysMatthew Paris, "ligamenta coifæ suæ solvere, ut, palam monstraret setonsuram habere clericalem; sed non est permissus. Satelles vero eumarripiens, non per coifæ ligamina sed per guttur eum apprehendens, traxit ad carcerem. " From which occurrence Spelman drew the untenable, and indeed, ridiculous inference, that the coif was introduced as aveil, beneath which ecclesiastics who wished to practice as judges orcounsel in the secular courts, might conceal the personal mark of theirorder. 

The coif-cap is still worn in undiminished proportions by judges whenthey pass sentence of death, and is generally known as the 'black cap. 'In old time the justice, on making ready to pronounce the awful wordswhich consigned a fellow-creature to a horrible death, was wont to drawup the flat, square, dark cap, that sometimes hung at the nape of hisneck or the upper part of his shoulder. Having covered the whiteness ofhis coif, and partially concealed his forehead and brows with the sablecloth, he proceeded to utter the dread sentence with solemn composureand firmness. At present the black cap is assumed to strike terror intothe hearts of the vulgar; formerly it was pulled over the eyes, to hidethe emotion of the judge. 

Shorn of their original size, the coif and the coif-cap may still beseen in the wigs worn by sergeants at the present day. The black blotwhich marks the crown of a sergeant's wig is generally spoken of as hiscoif, but this designation is erroneous. The black blot is the coif-cap;and those who wish to see the veritable coif must take a near view ofthe wig, when they will see that between the black silk and thehorsehair there lies a circular piece of white lawn, which is thevestige of that pure raiment so reverentially mentioned by Fortescue. Onthe general adoption of wigs, the sergeants, like the rest of the bar, followed in the wake of fashion: but at first they wore their old coifsand caps over their false hair. Finding this plan cumbersome, theygradually diminished the size of the ancient covering, until the coifand cap became the absurd thing which resembles a bald place coveredwith court-plaster quite as much as the rest of the wig resembles humanhair. 

Whilst the common law judges of the seventeenth century, before theintroduction of wigs, wore the undiminished coif and coif-cap, the LordChancellor, like the Speaker of the House of Commons, wore a hat. LordKeeper Williams, the last clerical holder of the seals, used to wear inthe Court of Chancery a round, conical hat. Bradshaw, sitting aspresident of the commissioners who tried Charles I. , wore a hat insteadof the coif and cap which he donned at other times as a serjeant of law. Kennett tells us that "Mr. Sergeant Bradshaw, the President, was afraidof some tumult upon such new and unprecedented insolence as that ofsitting judge upon his king; and therefore, beside other defence, he hada thick big-crowned beaver hat, lined with plated steel, to ward offblows. " It is scarcely credible that Bradshaw resorted to such means forsecuring his own safety, for in the case of a tumult, a hat, howeverstrong, would have been an insignificant protection against popularfury. If conspirators had resolved to take his life, they would havetried to effect their purpose by shooting or stabbing him, not byknocking him on the head. A steel-plated hat would have been but a poorguard against a bludgeon, and a still poorer defence against poignard orpistol. It is far more probable that in laying aside the ordinaryhead-dress of an English common law judge, and in assuming ahigh-crowned hat, the usual covering of a Speaker, Bradshaw endeavoredto mark the exceptional character of the proceeding, and to remind thepublic that he acted under parliamentary sanction. Whatever the wearer'sobject, England was satisfied that he had a notable purpose, andpersisted in regarding the act as significant of cowardice or ofinsolence, of anxiety to keep within the lines of parliamentaryprivilege or of readiness to set all law at defiance. At the time andlong after Bradshaw's death, that hat caused an abundance of discussion;it was a problem which men tried in vain to solve, an enigma thatpuzzled clever heads, a riddle that was interpreted as an insult, acaution, a protest, a menace, a doubt. Oxford honored it with a Latininscription, and a place amongst the curiosities of the university, andits memory is preserved to Englishmen of the present day in the familiarlines--

 "Where England's monarch once uncovered sat, And Bradshaw bullied in a broad-brimmed hat. "

Judges were by no means unanimous with regard to the adoption of wigs, some of them obstinately refusing to disfigure themselves with falsetresses, and others displaying a foppish delight in the new decoration. Sir Matthew Hale, who died in 1676, to the last steadily refused todecorate himself with artificial locks. The likeness of the ChiefJustice that forms the frontispiece to Burnet's memoir of the lawyer, represents him in his judicial robes, wearing his SS collar, and havingon his head a cap--not the coif-cap, but one of the close-fittingskull-caps worn by judges in the seventeenth century. Such skull-caps, it has been observed in a prior page of this work, were worn bybarristers under their wigs, and country gentlemen at home, during thelast century. Into such caps readers have seen Sir Francis North put hisfees. The portrait of Sir Cresswell Levinz (who returned to the bar ondismissal from the bench in 1686) shows that he wore a full-bottomed wigwhilst he was a judge; whereas Sir Thomas Street, who remained a judgetill the close of James II. 's reign, wore his own hair and a coif-cap. 

When Shaftesbury sat in court as Lord High Chancellor of England he worea hat, which Roger North is charitable enough to think might have been ablack hat. "His lordship, " says the 'Examen, ' "regarded censure solittle, that he did not concern himself to use a decent habit as becamea judge of his station; for he sat upon the bench in an ash-colored gownsilver-laced, and full-ribboned pantaloons displayed, without any blackat all in his garb, unless it were his hat, which, now, I cannotpositively say, though I saw him, was so. "

Even so late as Queen Anne's reign, which witnessed the introduction ofthree-cornered hats, a Lord Keeper wore his own hair in court insteadof a wig, until he received the sovereign's order to adopt the venerabledisguise of a full-bottomed wig. Lady Sarah Cowper recorded of herfather, 1705:--"The queen after this was persuaded to trust a Whiggministry, and in the year 1705, Octr. , she made my father Ld. Keeper ofthe Great Seal, in the 41st year of his age--'tis said the youngest LordKeeper that ever had been. He looked very young, and wearing his ownhair made him appear yet more so, which the queen observing, obliged himto cut it off, telling him the world would say she had given the sealsto a boy. "

The young Lord Keeper of course obeyed; and when he appeared for thefirst time at court in a wig, his aspect was so grave and reverend thatthe queen had to look at him twice before she recognized him. More thanhalf a century later, George II. Experienced a similar difficulty, whenLord Hardwicke, after the close of his long period of official service, showed himself at court in a plain suit of black velvet, with a bag andsword. Familiar with the appearance of the Chancellor dressed infull-bottomed wig and robes, the king failed to detect his old friendand servant in the elderly gentleman who, in the garb of a privateperson of quality, advanced and rendered due obeisance. "Sir, it is LordHardwicke, " whispered a lord in waiting who stood near His Majesty'sperson, and saw the cause of the cold reception given to theex-Chancellor. But unfortunately the king was not more familiar with theex-Chancellor's title than his appearance, and in a disastrous endeavorto be affable inquired, with an affectation of interest, "How long hasyour lordship been in town?" The peer's surprise and chagrin were greatuntil the monarch, having received further instruction from the courtlyprompter at his elbow, frankly apologized in bad English and with noisylaughter. "Had Lord Hardwicke, " says Campbell, "worn such a uniform asthat invented by George IV. For ex-Chancellors (very much like a FieldMarshal's), he could not have been mistaken for a common man. "

The judges who at the first introduction of wigs refused to adopt themwere prone to express their dissatisfaction with those coxcombicalcontrivances when exhibited upon the heads of counsel; and for someyears prudent juniors, anxious to win the favorable opinion of anti-wigjustices, declined to obey the growing fashion. Chief Justice Hale, anotable sloven, conspicuous amongst common law judges for the meannessof his attire, just as Shaftesbury was conspicuous in the Court ofChancery for foppishness, cherished lively animosity for two sorts oflegal practitioners--attorneys who wore swords, and young Templars whoadorned themselves with periwigs. Bishop Burnet says of Hale: "He was agreat encourager of all young persons that he saw followed their booksdiligently, to whom he used to give directions concerning the method oftheir study, with a humanity and sweetness that wrought much on all thatcame near him; and in a smiling, pleasant way he would admonish them, ifhe saw anything amiss in them; particularly if they went too fine intheir clothes, he would tell them it did not become their profession. Hewas not pleased to see students wear long periwigs, or attorneys go withswords, so that such men as would not be persuaded to part with thosevanities, when they went to him laid them aside and went as plain asthey could, to avoid the reproof which they knew they might otherwiseexpect. " In England, however, barristers almost universally wore wigs atthe close of the seventeenth century; but north of the Tweed advocateswore cocked hats and powdered hair so late as the middle of theeighteenth century. When Alexander Wedderburn joined the Scotch bar in1754, wigs had not come into vogue with the members of his profession. 

Many are the good stories told of judicial wigs, and amongst the best ofthem, is the anecdote which that malicious talker Samuel Rogersdelighted to tell at Edward Law's expense. "Lord Ellenborough, " says the'Table-Talk, ' "was once about to go on circuit, when Lady Ellenboroughsaid that she should like to accompany him. He replied that he had noobjection provided she did not encumber the carriage with bandboxes, which were his utter abhorrence. During the first day's journey LordEllenborough, happening to stretch his legs, struck his foot againstsomething below the seat; he discovered that it was a bandbox. Up wentthe window, and out went the bandbox. The coachman stopped, and thefootman, thinking that the bandbox had tumbled out of the window by someextraordinary chance, was going to pick it up, when Lord Ellenboroughfuriously called out, 'Drive on!' The bandbox, accordingly, was left bythe ditch-side. Having reached the county town where he was to officiateas judge, Lord Ellenborough proceeded to array himself for hisappearance in the court-house. 'Now, ' said he, 'where's my wig?--where_is_ my wig?' 'My lord, ' replied his attendant, 'it was thrown out ofthe carriage window!'"

Changing together with fashion, barristers ceased to wear their wigs insociety as soon as the gallants and bucks of the West End began toappear with their natural tresses in theatres and ball rooms; but theconservative genius of the law has hitherto triumphed over the attemptsof eminent advocates to throw the wig out of Westminster Hall. When LordCampbell argued the great Privilege case, he obtained permission toappear without a wig; but this concession to a counsel--who, on thatoccasion, spoke for sixteen hours--was accompanied with an intimationthat "it was not to be drawn into precedent. "

Less wise or less fortunate than the bar, the judges of England woretheir wigs in society after advocates of all ranks and degrees hadagreed to lay aside the professional head-gear during hours ofrelaxation. Lady Eldon's good taste and care for her husband's comfort, induced Lord Eldon, soon after his elevation to the pillow of the CommonPleas, to beg the king's permission that he might put off his judicialwig on leaving the courts, in which as Chief Justice he would berequired to preside. The petition did not meet with a favorablereception. For a minute George III. Hesitated; whereupon Eldon supportedhis prayer by observing, with the fervor of an old-fashioned Tory, thatthe lawyer's wig was a detestable innovation--unknown in the days ofJames I. And Charles the Martyr, the judges of which two monarchs wouldhave rejected as an insult any proposal that they should assume ahead-dress fit only for madmen at masquerades or mummers at countrywakes. "What! what!" cried the king, sharply; and then, smilingmischievously, as he suddenly saw a good answer to the plausibleargument, he added--"True, my lord, Charles the First's judges wore nowigs, but they wore beards. You may do the same, if you like. You mayplease yourself about wearing or not wearing your wig; but mind, if youplease yourself by imitating the old judges, as to the head--you mustplease me by imitating them as to the chin. You may lay aside your wig;but if you do--you must wear a beard. " Had he lived in these days, whenbarristers occasionally wear beards in court, and judges are not lessconspicuous than the junior bar for magnitude of nose and whisker, Eldonwould have accepted the condition. But the last year of the lastcentury, was the very centre and core of that time which may be calledthe period of close shavers; and John Scott, the decorous andrespectable, would have endured martyrdom rather than have grown abeard, or have allowed his whiskers to exceed the limits of mutton-chopwhiskers. 

As Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, and subsequently as Chancellor, Eldon wore his wig whenever he appeared in general society; but in theprivacy of his own house he gratified Lady Eldon by laying aside theofficial head-gear. That this was his usage, the gossips of thelaw-courts knew well; and at Carlton House, when the Prince of Wales wasmost indignant with the Chancellor, who subsequently became his familiarfriend, courtiers were wont to soothe the royal rage with divertinganecdotes of the attention which the odious lawyer lavished on thenatural hair that gave his Bessie so much delight. On one occasion, whenEldon was firmly supporting the cause of the Princess of Wales, 'thefirst gentleman of Europe' forgot common decency so far, that he made ajeering allusion to this instance of the Chancellor's domesticamiability. "I am not the sort of person, " growled the prince with anoutbreak of peevishness, "to let my hair grow under my wig to please mywife. " With becoming dignity Eldon answered--"Your Royal Highnesscondescends to be personal. I beg leave to withdraw;" and suiting hisaction to his words, the Chancellor made a low bow to the angry prince, and retired. The prince sneaked out of the position by an untruth, instead of an apology. On the following day he caused a writtenassurance to be conveyed to the Chancellor, that the offensive speech"was nothing personal, but simply a proverb--a proverbial way of sayinga man was governed by his wife. " It is needless to say that theexpression was not proverbial, but distinctly and grossly personal. LordMalmesbury's comment on this affair is "Very absurd of Lord Eldon; butexplained by his having literally done what the prince said. " LordEldon's conduct absurd! What was the prince's?

CHAPTER XXII. 

BANDS AND COLLARS. 

Bands came into fashion with Englishmen many years before wigs, but likewigs they were worn in general society before they became a recognizedand distinctive feature of professional costume. Ladies of rank dyedtheir hair, and wore false tresses in Elizabethan England; but theirexample was not extensively followed by the men of their time--althoughthe courtiers of the period sometimes donned 'periwinkes, ' to theextreme disgust of the multitude, and the less stormy disapprobation ofthe polite. The frequency with which bands are mentioned in Elizabethanliterature, affords conclusive evidence that they were much worn towardthe close of the sixteenth century; and it is also matter of certaintythat they were known in England at a still earlier period. Henry VIII. Had "4 shirte bands of silver with ruffes to the same, whereof one wasperled with golde;" and in 1638 Peacham observed, "King Henry VIII. Wasthe first that ever wore a band about his neck, and that very plain, without lace, and about an inch or two in depth. We may see how the caseis altered, he is not a gentleman, or in the fashion, whose band ofItalian cutwork standeth him not at the least in three or four pounds;yea, a sempster in Holborn told me there are of threescore pound priceapiece. " That the fops of Charles I. 's reign were spending money on afashion originally set by King Henry the Bluff, was the opinion also ofTaylor the Water Poet, who in 1630 wrote--

 "Now up alofte I mount unto the ruffe, Which into foolish mortals pride doth puffe; Yet ruffes' antiquity is here but small-- Within this eighty years not one at all; For the Eighth Henry (so I understand) Was the first king that ever wore a _band_; And but a _falling-band_, plaine with a hem; All other people knew no use of them. Yet imitation in small time began To grow, that it the kingdom overran; The little falling-bands encreased to ruffes, Ruffes (growing great) were waited on by cuffes, And though our frailties should awake our care, We make our ruffes as careless as we are. "

In regarding the falling-band as the germ of the ruff, the Water-Poetdiffers from those writers who, with greater appearance of reason, maintain that the ruff was the parent of the band. Into this questionconcerning origin of species, there is no occasion to enter on thepresent occasion. It is enough to state that in the earlier part of theseventeenth century bands or collars--bands stiffened and standing atthe backward part, and bands falling upon the shoulder and breast--werearticles of costume upon which men of expensive and modish habits spentlarge sums. 

In the days of James I. , when standing bands were still the fashion, andfalling-bands had not come in, the Inns of Court men were veryparticular about the stiffness, cut, and texture of their collars. Speaking of the Inns of Court men, Sir Thomas Overbury, (who waspoisoned in 1613), says: "He laughs at every man whose band sits notwell, or that hath not a fair shoe-type, and is ashamed to be in anyman's company who wears not his cloathes well. "

If portraits may be trusted, the falling-band of Charles I. 's time, boreconsiderable resemblance to the falling neck-frill, which twenty yearssince was very generally worn by quite little boys, and is still sometimesseen on urchins who are about six years of age. The bands worn by thebarristers and clergy of our own time are modifications of this antiquefalling-band, and like the coif cap of the modern sergeant, they bearonly a faint likeness to their originals. But though bands--longer thanthose still worn by clergymen--have come to be a distinctive feature oflegal costume, the bar was slow to adopt falling-collars--regarding themas a strange and fanciful innovation. Whitelock's personal narrativefurnishes pleasant testimony that the younger gentry of Charles I. 'sEngland adopted the new collar before the working lawyers. 

"At the Quarter-Sessions of Oxford, " says Whitelock, speaking of theyear 1635, when he was only thirty years of age, "I was put into thechair in court, though I was in colored clothes, a sword by my side, anda falling-band, which was unusual for lawyers in those days, and in thisgarb I gave the charge to the Grand Jury. I took occasion to enlarge onthe point of jurisdiction in the temporal courts in mattersecclesiastical, and the antiquity thereof, which I did the ratherbecause the spiritual men began in those days to swell higher thanordinary, and to take it as an injury to the Church that anythingsavoring of the spirituality, should be within the cognisance ofignorant laymen. The gentlemen and freeholders seemed well pleased withmy charge, and the management of the business of the sessions; and saidthey perceived one might speak as good sense in a falling-band as in aruff. " At this time Whitelock had been about seven years at the bar; butat the Quarter-Sessions the young Templar was playing the part ofcountry squire, and as his words show, he was dressed in a fashion thatdirectly violated professional usage. 

Whitelock's speech seems to have been made shortly before the baraccepted the falling-band as an article of dress admissible in courts oflaw. Towards the close of Charles's reign, such bands were verygenerally worn in Westminster Hall by the gentlemen of the long robe;and after the Restoration, a barrister would as soon have thought ofappearing at the King's Bench without his gown as without his band. Unlike the bar-bands of the present time--which are lappets of finelawn, of simple make--the bands worn by Charles II. 's lawyers weredainty and expensive articles, such as those which Peacham exclaimedagainst in the preceding reign. At that date the Templar in prosperouscircumstances had his bands made entirely of point lace, or of fine lawnedged with point lace; and as he wore them in society as well as incourt, he was constantly requiring a fresh supply of them. Few accidentswere more likely to ruffle a Templar's equanimity than a mishap to hisband occurring through his own inadvertence or carelessness on the partof a servant. At table the pieces of delicate lace-work were exposed tomany dangers. Continually were they stained with wine or soiled withgravy, and the young lawyer was deemed a marvel of amiability who couldsee his point lace thus defiled and abstain from swearing. "I remember, "observes Roger North, when he is showing the perfect control in whichhis brother Francis kept his temper, at his table a stupid servant spilta glass of red wine upon his point band and clothes. "He only wiped hisface and clothes with the napkin, and 'Here, ' said he, 'take this away;'and no more. "

In 'The London Spy, ' Ned Ward shows that during Queen Anne's reign legalpractitioners of the lowest sort were particular to wear bands. Describing the pettifogger, Ward says, "He always talks with as greatassurance as if he understood what he pretends to know; and always wearsa band, in which lies his gravity and wisdom. " At the same period abrisk trade was carried on in Westminster Hall by the sempstresses whomanufactured bands and cuffs, lace ruffles, and lawn kerchiefs for thegrave counsellors and young gallants of the Inns of Court. "Fromthence, " says the author of 'The London Spy', "we walked down by thesempstresses, who were very nicely digitising and pleating turnsoversand ruffles for the young students, and coaxing them with amorous looks, obliging cant, and inviting gestures, to give so extravagant a price forwhat they buy. "

From collars of lace and lawn, let us turn to collars of precious metal. 

Antiquarians have unanimously rejected the fanciful legend adopted byDugdale concerning the SS collar, as well as many not less ingeniousinterpretations of the mystic letters; and at the present time it isalmost unanimously settled that the SS collar is the old Lancastrianbadge, corresponding to the Yorkist collar of Roses and Suns, and thatthe S is either the initial of the sentimental word 'Souvenez, ' or, asMr. Beltz maintains, the initial letter of the sentimental motto, 'Souvenez-vous de moi. ' In Mr. Foss's valuable work, 'The Judges ofEngland, ' at the commencement of the seventh volume, the curious readermay find an excellent summary of all that has been or can be said aboutthe origin of this piece of feudal livery, which, having at one timebeen very generally assumed by all gentle and fairly prosperouspartisans of the House of Lancaster, has for many generations been thedistinctive badge of a few official persons. In the second year of HenryIV. An ordinance forbade knights and Esquires to wear the collar, savein the king's presence; and in the reign of Henry VIII. , the privilegeof wearing the collar was taken away from simple esquires by the 'Actefor Reformacyon of Excesse in Apparayle, ' 24 Henry VIII. C. 13, whichordained "That no man oneless he be a knight . . . Weare any color ofGold, named a color of S. " Gradually knights and non-official personsrelinquished the decoration; and in our own day the right to bear it isrestricted to the two Chief Justices, the Chief Baron, thesergeant-trumpetor, and all the officers of the Heralds' College, pursuivants excepted; "unless, " adds Mr. Foss, "the Lord Mayor of Londonis to be included, whose collar is somewhat similar, and is composed oftwenty-eight SS, fourteen roses, thirteen knots; and measures sixty-fourinches. "

CHAPTER XXIII. 

BAGS AND GOWNS. 

On the stages of the Caroline theatres the lawyer is found with a greenbag in his hand; the same is the case in the literature of Queen Anne'sreign; and until a comparatively recent date green bags were generallycarried in Westminster Hall and in provincial courts by the great bodyof legal practitioners. From Wycherley's 'Plain Dealer, ' it appears thatin the time of Charles II. Angry clients were accustomed to revile theirlawyers as 'green bag-carriers. ' When the litigious Widow Blackacreupbraids the barrister who declines to argue for her, sheexclaims--"Impertinent again, and ignorant to me! Gadsboddikins! youpuny upstart in the law, to use me so, you green-bag carrier, youmurderer of unfortunate causes, the clerk's ink is scarce off of yourfingers. " In the same drama, making much play with the green bag, Wycherley indicates the Widow Blackacre's quarrelsome disposition bydecorating her with an enormous green reticule, and makes her son thelaw-student, stagger about the stage in a gown, and under a heavy burdenof green bags. 

So also in the time of Queen Anne, to say that a man intended to carry agreen bag, was the same as saying that he meant to adopt the law as aprofession. In Dr. Arbuthnot's 'History of John Bull, ' the prevalence ofthe phrase is shown by the passage, "I am told, Cousin Diego, you areone of those that have undertaken to manage me, and that you have saidyou will carry a green bag yourself, rather than we shall make an end ofour lawsuit. I'll teach them and you too to manage. " It must, however, be borne in mind that in Queen Anne's time, green bags, like whitebands, were as generally adopted by solicitors and attorneys, as bymembers of the bar. In his 'character of a pettifogger' the author of'The London Spy' observes--"His learning is commonly as little as hishonesty, and his conscience much larger than his green bag. "

Some years have elapsed since green bags altogether disappeared from ourcourts of law; but the exact date of their disappearance has hithertoescaped the vigilance and research of Colonel Landman, 'Causidicus, ' andother writers who in the pages of that useful and very entertainingpublication, _Notes and Queries_, have asked for information on thatpoint and kindred questions. Evidence sets aside the suggestion that thecolor of the lawyer's bag was changed from green to red because theproceedings at Queen Caroline's trial rendered green bags odious to thepublic, and even dangerous to their bearers; for it is a matter ofcertainty that the leaders of the Chancery and Common Law bars carriedred bags at a time considerably anterior to the inquiry into the queen'sconduct. 

In a letter addressed to the editor of _Notes and Queries_, a writer whosigns himself 'Causidicus, ' observes--"When I entered the profession(about fifty years ago) no junior barrister presumed to carry a bag inthe Court of Chancery, unless one had been presented to him by a King'sCounsel; who, when a junior was advancing in practice, took anopportunity of complimenting him on his increase of business, and givinghim his own bag to carry home his papers. It was then a distinction tocarry a bag, and a proof that a junior was rising in his profession. Ido not know whether the custom prevailed in other courts. " From this itappears that fifty years since the bag was an honorable distinction atthe Chancery bar, giving its bearer some such professional status asthat which is conferred by 'silk' in these days when Queen's Counsel arenumerous. 

The same professional usage seems to have prevailed at the Common Lawbar more than eighty years ago; for in 1780, when Edward Law joined theNorthern Circuit, and forthwith received a large number of briefs, hewas complimented by Wallace on his success, and presented with a bag. Lord Campbell asserts that no case had ever before occurred where ajunior won the distinction of a bag during the course of his firstcircuit. There is no record of the date when members of the junior barreceived permission to carry bags according to their own pleasure; it iseven matter of doubt whether the permission was ever expressly accordedby the leaders of the profession--or whether the old restrictive usagedied a gradual and unnoticed death. The present writer, however, isassured that at the Chancery bar, long after _all_ juniors were allowedto carry bags, etiquette forbade them to adopt bags of the same color asthose carried by their leaders. An eminent Queen's Counsel, who is amember of that bar, remembers that when he first donned a stuff gown, he, like all Chancery jurors, had a purple bag--whereas the wearers ofsilk at the same period, without exception, carried red bags. 

Before a complete and satisfactory account can be given of the use ofbags by lawyers, as badges of honor and marks of distinction, answersmust be found for several questions which at present remain open todiscussion. So late as Queen Anne's reign, lawyers of the loweststanding, whether advocates or attorneys, were permitted to carrybags;--a right which the junior bar appears to have lost when Edward Lawjoined the Northern Circuit. At what date between Queen Anne's day and1780 (the year in which Lord Ellenborough made his _début_ in theNorth), was this change effected? Was the change gradual or sudden? Towhat cause was it due? Again, is it possible that Lord Campbell andCausidicus wrote under a misapprehension, when they gave testimonyconcerning the usages of the bar with regard to bags, at the close ofthe last and the beginning of the present century? The memory of thedistinguished Queen's Counsel, to whom allusion is made in the precedingparagraph, is quite clear that in his student days Chancery jurors wereforbidden by etiquette to carry _red_ bags, but were permitted to carryblue bags; and he is strongly of opinion that the restriction, to whichLord Campbell and Causidicus draw attention, did not apply at any timeto blue bags, but only concerned red bags, which, so late as thirtyyears since, unquestionably were the distinguishing marks of men inleading Chancery practice. Perhaps legal readers of this chapter willfavor the writer with further information on this not highly important, but still not altogether uninteresting subject. 

The liberality which for the last five and-twenty years has marked thedistribution of 'silk' to rising members of the bar, and the ease withwhich all fairly successful advocates may obtain the rank of Queen'sCounsel, enable lawyers of the present generation to smile at a rulewhich defined a man's professional position by the color of his bag, instead of the texture of his gown; but in times when 'silk' was givento comparatively few members of the bar, and when that distinction wasmost unfairly withheld from the brightest ornaments of their profession, if their political opinions displeased the 'party in power, ' it wasnatural and reasonable in the bar to institute for themselves an 'orderof merit'--to which deserving candidates could obtain admission withoutreference to the prejudices of a Chancellor or the whims of a clique. 

At present the sovereign's counsel learned in the law constitute adistinct order of the profession; but until the reign of William IV. They were merely a handful of court favorites. In most cases they weresound lawyers in full employment; but the immediate cause of theirelevation was almost always some political consideration--and sometimesthe lucky wearer of a silk gown had won the right to put K. C. Or Q. C. After his name by base compliance with ministerial power. That ourearlier King's Counsel were not created from the purest motives or forthe most honorable purposes will be readily admitted by the reader whoreflects that 'silk gowns' are a legal species, for which the nation isindebted to the Stuarts. For all practical purposes Francis Bacon was aQ. C. During the reign of Queen Elizabeth. He enjoyed peculiar anddistinctive _status_ as a barrister, being consulted on legal matters bythe Queen, although he held no place that in familiar parlance wouldentitle him to rank with her Crown Lawyers; and his biographers haveagreed to call him Elizabeth's counsellor learned in the law. But a Q. C. Holding his office by patent--that is to say, a Q. C. As that term isunderstood at the present time--Francis Bacon never was. On theaccession, however, of James I. , he received his formal appointment ofK. C. , the new monarch having seen fit to recognise the lawyer's claim tobe regarded as a 'special counsel, ' or 'learned counsel extraordinary. 'Another barrister of the same period who obtained the same distinctionwas Sir Henry Montague, who, in a patent granted in 1608 to the twoTemples, is styled "one of our counsel learned in the law. " Thusplanted, the institution of monarch's special counsel was for manygenerations a tree of slow growth. Until George III. 's reign the numberof monarch's counsel, living and practising at the same time, was neverlarge; and throughout the long period of that king's rule the fraternityof K. C. Never assumed them agnitude and character of a professionalorder. It is uncertain what was the greatest number of contemporaneousK. C. 's during the Stuart dynasty; but there is no doubt that from thearrival of James I. To the flight of James II. There was no period whenthe K. C. 's at all approached the sergeants in name and influence. InRymer's 'Foedera' mention is made of four barristers who were appointedcounsellors to Charles I. , one of whom, Sir John Finch, in a patent ofprecedence is designated "King's Counsel;" but it is not improbable thatthe royal martyr had other special counsellors whose names have not beenrecorded. At different times of Charles II. 's reign, there were createdsome seventeen K. C. 's, and seven times that number of sergeants. JamesII. Made ten K. C. 's; William and Mary appointed eleven specialcounsellors; and the number of Q. C. 's appointed by Anne was ten. Thenames of George I. 's learned counsel are not recorded; the list ofGeorge II. 's K. C. 's, together with barristers holding patents ofprecedence, comprise thirty names; George III. Throughout his longtenure of the crown, gave 'silk' with or without the title of K. C. , toninety-three barristers; George IV. To twenty-six; whereas the list ofWilliam IV. 's appointments comprised sixty-five names, and the presentqueen has conferred the rank of Q. C. On about two hundred advocates--thelaw-list for 1865 mentioning one hundred and thirty-seven barristers whoare Q. C. 's, or holders of patents of precedence; and only twenty-eightsergeants-at-law, not sitting as judges in any of the supreme courts. The diminution in the numbers of the sergeants is due partly to the lossof their old monopoly of business in the Common Pleas, and partly--somesay chiefly--to the profuseness with which silk gowns, with Q. C. Rankattached, have been thrown to the bar since the passing of the ReformBill. 

Under the old system when 'silk' was less bountifully bestowed, eminentbarristers not only led their circuits in stuff; but, after holdingoffice as legal advisers to the crown and wearing silk gowns whilst theyso acted with their political friends, they sometimes resumed theirstuff gowns and places 'outside the bar, ' on descending from officialeminence. When Charles York in 1763 resigned the post of AttorneyGeneral, he returned to his old place in court without the bar, clad inthe black bombazine of an ordinary barrister, whereas during his tenureof office he had worn silk and sat within the bar. In the same mannerwhen Dunning resigned the Solicitor Generalship in 1770, he reappearedin the Court of King's Bench, attired in stuff, and took his placewithout the bar; but as soon as he had made his first motion, he wasaddressed by Lord Mansfield, who with characteristic courtesy informedhim that he should take precedence in that court before all members ofthe bar, whatever might be their standing, with the exception of King'sCounsel, Sergeants, and the Recorder of London. On joining the NorthernCircuit in 1780, Edward Law found Wallace and Lee leading in silk, andtwenty years later he and Jemmy Park were the K. C. 's of the samedistrict; Of course the circuit was not without wearers of the coif, oneof its learned sergeants being Cockell, who, before Law obtained theleading place, was known as 'the Almighty of the North;' and whosesuccess, achieved in spite of an almost total ignorance of legalscience, was long quoted to show that though knowledge is power, powermay be won without knowledge. 

From pure dislike of the thought that younger men should follow closelyor at a distance in his steps to the highest eminences of legal success, Lord Eldon was disgracefully stingy in bestowing honors on risingbarristers who belonged to his own party, but his injustice anddownright oppression to brilliant advocates in the Whig ranks merit thewarmest expressions of disapproval and contempt. The most notorioussufferers from his rancorous intolerance were Henry Brougham and Mr. Denman, who, having worn silk gowns as Queen Caroline's Attorney Generaland Solicitor General, were reduced to stuff attire on that wretchedlady's death. 

It is worthy of notice that in old time, when silk gowns were few, theirwearers were sometimes very young men. From the days of Francis North, who was made K. C. Before he was a barrister for seven full years'standing, down to the days of Eldon, who obtained silk after sevenyears' service in stuff, instances could be cited of the rapidity withwhich lucky youngsters rose to the honors of silk, whilst hard-workedveterans were to the last kept outside the bar. Thurlow was called tothe bar in November, 1754, and donned silk in December, 1761. Six yearshad now elapsed since his call to the English bar, when AlexanderWedderburn was entitled to put the initials K. C. After his name, andwrote to his mother in Scotland, "I can't very well explain to you thenature of my preferment, but it is what most people at the bar are verydesirous of, and yet most people run a hazard of losing money by it. Ican scarcely expect any advantage from it for some time equal to what Igive up; and, notwithstanding, I am extremely happy, and esteem myselfvery fortunate in having obtained it. " Erskine's silk was won with evengreater speed, for he was invited within the bar, but his silk gowncame to him with a patent of precedence, giving him the status withoutthe title of a King's Counsel. 

Bar mourning is no longer a feature of legal costume in England. On thedeath of Charles II. Members of the bar donned gowns indicative of theirgrief for the national loss, and they continued, either universally orin a large number of cases, to wear these woful habiliments till 1697, when Chief Justice Holt ordered all barristers practising in his courtto appear "in their proper gowns and not in mourning ones"--an orderwhich, according to Narcissus Luttrell, compelled the bar to spend £15per man. From this it may be inferred that (regard being had to changein value of money) a bar-gown at the close of the seventeenth centurycost about ten times as much as it does at the present time. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

HATS. 

Not less famous in history than Bradshaw's broad-brimmed hat, nor lessgraceful than Shaftesbury's jaunty beaver, nor less memorable than thesailor's tarpaulin, under cover of which Jeffreys slunk into the RedCow, Wapping, nor less striking than the black cap still worn by Justicein her sternest mood, nor less fanciful than the cocked hat whichcovered Wedderburn's powdered hair when he daily paced the High Streetof Edinburgh with his hands in a muff--was the white hat which anillustrious Templar invented at an early date of the eighteenth century. Beau Brummel's original mind taught the human species to starch theirwhite cravats; Richard Nash, having surmounted the invidious bar ofplebeian birth and raised himself upon opposing circumstances to thethrone of Bath, produced a white hat. To which of these great mensociety owes the heavier debt of gratitude thoughtful historians cannotagree; but even envious detraction admits that they deserve high rankamongst the benefactors of mankind. Brummel was a soldier; but Lawproudly claims as her own the parent of the pale and spotless _chapeau_. 

About lawyers' cocked hats a capital volume might be written, thatshould contain no better story than the one which is told of NedThurlow's discomfiture in 1788, when he was playing a trickster's gamewith his friends and foes. Windsor Castle just then contained threedistinct centres of public interest--the mad king in the hands of hiskeepers; on the one side of the impotent monarch the Prince of Waleswaiting impatiently for the Regency; on the other side, the queen withequal impatience longing for her husband's recovery. The prince and hismother both had apartments in the castle, her majesty's quarters beingthe place of meeting for the Tory ministers, whilst the prince'sapartments were thrown open to the select leaders of the Whigexpectants. Of course the two coteries kept jealously apart; butThurlow, who wished to be still Lord Chancellor, "whatever king mightreign, " was in private communication with the prince's friends. Withfurtive steps he passed from the queen's room (where he had a minutebefore been assuring the ministers that he would be faithful to theking's adherents), and made clandestine way to the apartment whereSheridan and Payne were meditating on the advantages of a regencywithout restriction. On leaving the prince, the wary lawyer used tosteal into the king's chamber, and seek guidance or encouragement fromthe madman's restless eyes. Was the malady curable? If curable, howlong a time would elapse before the return of reason? These were thequestions which the Chancellor put to himself, as he debated whether heshould break with the Tories and go over to the Whigs. Through theaction of the patient's disease, the most delicate part of the lawyer'soccupation was gone; and having no longer a king's conscience to keep, he did not care, by way of diversion--to keep his own. 

For many days ere they received clear demonstration of the Chancellor'sdeceit, the other members of the cabinet suspected that he was actingdisingenuously, and when his double-dealing was brought to their sureknowledge, their indignation was not even qualified with surprise. Thestory of his exposure is told in various ways; but all versions concurin attributing his detection to an accident. Like the gallant of theFrench court, whose clandestine intercourse with a great lady wasdiscovered because, in his hurried preparations for flight from herchamber, he appropriated one of her stockings, Thurlow, according to oneaccount, was convicted of perfidy by the prince's hat, which he boreunder his arm on entering the closet where the ministers awaited hiscoming. Another version says that Thurlow had taken his seat at thecouncil-table, when his hat was brought to him by a page, with anexplanation that he had left it in the prince's private room. A third, and more probable representation of the affair, instead of laying thescene in the council-chamber, makes the exposure occur in a more publicpart of the castle. "When a council was to be held at Windsor, " said theRight Honorable Thomas Grenville, in his old age recounting theparticulars of the mishap, "to determine the course which ministersshould pursue, Thurlow had been there some time before any of hiscolleagues arrived. He was to be brought back to London by one of them, and the moment of departure being come, the Chancellor's hat wasnowhere to be found. After a fruitless search in the apartment where thecouncil had been held, a page came with the hat in his hand, sayingaloud, and with great _naïveté_, 'My lord, I found it in the closet ofhis Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. ' The other Ministers were stillin the Hall, and Thurlow's confusion corroborated the inference whichthey drew. " Cannot an artist be found to place upon canvas this scene, which furnishes the student of human nature with an instructive instanceof

 "That combination strange--a lawyer and a blush?"

For some days Thurlow's embarrassment and chagrim were very painful. Buta change in the state of the king's health caused a renewal of thelawyer's attachment to Tory principles and to his sovereign. 

The lawyers of what may be termed the cocked hat period seldommaintained the happy mean between too little and too great care forpersonal appearance. For the most part they were either slovenly orfoppish. From the days when as a student he used to slip into Nando's ina costume that raised the supercilious astonishment of hiscontemporaries, Thurlow to the last erred on the side of neglect. Camdenroused the satire of an earlier generation by the miserable condition ofthe tiewig which he wore on the bench of Chancery, and by an undignifiedand provoking habit of "gartering up his stockings while counsel werethe most strenuous in their eloquence. " On the other hand JosephYates--the puisne judge whom Mansfield's jeers and merciless oppressionsdrove from the King's Bench to the Common Pleas, where he died withinfour months of his retreat--was the finest of fine gentlemen. Before hehad demonstrated his professional capacity, the habitual costliness anddelicacy of his attire roused the distrust of attorneys, and on morethan one occasion wrought him injury. An awkward, crusty, hard-featuredattorney entered the foppish barrister's chambers with a bundle ofpapers, and on seeing the young man in a superb and elaborate eveningdress, is said to have inquired, "Can you say, sir, when Mr. Yates willreturn?" "Return, my good sir!" answered the barrister, with an air ofsurprise, "I am Mr. Yates, and it will give me the greatest pleasure totalk with you about those papers. " Having taken a deliberate survey ofthe young Templar, and made a mental inventory of all the fantasticarticles of his apparel, the honest attorney gave an ominous grunt, replaced the papers in one of the deep pockets of his long-skirted coat, twice nodded his head with contemptuous significance, and then, withoutanother word--walked out of the room. It was his first visit to thosechambers, and his last. Joseph Yates lost his client, before he couldeven learn his name; but in no way influenced by the occurrence hemaintained his reputation for faultless taste in dress, and when he hadraised himself to the bench, he was amongst the judges of his day allthat Revell Reynolds was amongst the London physicians of a later date. 

Living in the midst of the fierce contentions which distracted Irelandin the days of our grandfathers, John Toler, first Earl of Norbury, would not have escaped odium and evil repute, had he been a merciful manand a scrupulous judge; but in consequence of failings and wickedpropensities, which gave countenance to the slanders of his enemies andat the same time earned for him the distrust and aversion of hispolitical coadjutors, he has found countless accusers and not a singlevindicator. Resembling George Jeffreys in temper and mental capacity, heresembled him also in posthumous fame. A shrewd, selfish, overbearingman, possessing wit which was exercised with equal promptitude uponfriends and foes, he alternately roused the terror and the laughter ofhis audiences. At the bar and in the Irish House of Commons he was alikenotorious as jester and bully; but he was a courageous bully, and to thelast was always as ready to fight with bullets as with epigrams, andthough his humor was especially suited to the taste and passions of therabble, it sometimes convulsed with merriment those who were shocked byits coarseness and brutality. Having voted for the abolition of theIrish Parliament, the Right Honorable John Toler was prepared to justifyhis conduct with hair-triggers or sarcasms. To the men who questionedhis patriotism he was wont to answer, "Name any hour before my courtopens to-morrow, " but to the patriotic Irish lady who loudly charged himin a crowded drawing-room with having sold his country, he replied, withan affectation of cordial assent, "Certainly, madam, I have sold mycountry. It was very lucky for me that I had a country to sell--I wish Ihad another. " On the bench he spared neither counsel nor suitors, neither witnesses nor jurors. When Daniel O'Connell, whilst he wasconducting a cause in the Irish Court of Common Pleas, observed, "Pardonme, my lord, I am afraid your lordship does not apprehend me;" the ChiefJustice (alluding to a scandalous and false report that O'Connell hadavoided a duel by surrendering himself to the police) retorted, "Pardonme also; no one is more easily apprehended than Mr. O'Connell"--(apause--and then with emphatic slowness of utterance)--"whenever hewishes to be apprehended. " It is _said_ that when this same judge passedsentence of death on Robert Emmett, he paused when he came to the pointwhere it is usual for a judge to add in conclusion, "And may the Lordhave mercy on your soul!" and regarded the brave young man withsearching eyes. For a minute there was an awful silence in the court;the bar and the assembled crowd supposing that the Chief Justice hadpaused so that a few seconds of unbroken stillness might add to thesolemnity of his last words. The disgust and indignation of thespectators were beyond the power of language, when they saw a smile ofbrutal sarcasm steal over the face of the Chief Justice as he rose fromhis seat of judgment without uttering another word. 

Whilst the state prosecutions were going forward, Lord Norbury appearedon the bench in a costume that accorded ill with the gravity of hisoffice. The weather was intensely hot; and whilst he was at his morningtoilet the Chief Justice selected from his wardrobe the dress which wasmost suited to the sultriness of the air. The garb thus selected for itscoolness was a dress which his lordship had worn at a masquerade ball, and consisted of a green tabinet coat decorated with hugemother-of-pearl buttons, a waistcoat of yellow relieved by blackstripes, and buff breeches. When he first entered the court, andthroughout all the earlier part of the proceedings against a party ofrebels, his judicial robes altogether concealed this grotesque attire;but unfortunately towards the close of the sultry day's work, LordNorbury--oppressed by the stifling atmosphere of the court, andforgetting all about the levity as well as the lightness of his innerraiment--threw back his judicial robe and displayed the dress whichseveral persons then present had seen him wear at Lady Castlereagh'sball. Ere the spectators recovered from their first surprise, LordNorbury, quite unconscious of his indecorum, had begun to pass sentenceof death on a gang of prisoners, speaking to them in a solemn voice thatcontrasted painfully with the inappropriateness of his costume. 

In the following bright and picturesque sentence, Dr. Dibdin gives alife-like portrait of Erskine, whose personal vanity was only equalledby the egotism which often gave piquancy to his orations, and neverlessened their effect:--"Cocked hats and ruffles, with satinsmall-clothes and silk stockings, at this time constituted the usualevening dress. Erskine, though a good deal shorter than his brethren, somehow always seemed to take the lead both in pace and in discourse, and shouts of laughter would frequently follow his dicta. Among thesurrounding promenaders, he and the one-armed Mingay seemed to be themain objects of attraction. Towards evening, it was the fashion for theleading counsel to promenade during the summer in the Temple Gardens, and I usually formed one in the thronging mall of loungers andspectators. I had analysed Blackstone, and wished to publish it under adedication to Mr. Erskine. Having requested the favor of an interview, he received me graciously at breakfast before nine, attired in the smartdress of the times, a dark green coat, scarlet waistcoat, and silkbreeches. He left his coffee, stood the whole time looking at the chartI had cut in copper, and appeared much gratified. On leaving him, achariot-and-four drew up to wheel him to some provincial town on aspecial retainer. He was then coining money as fast as his chariotwheels rolled along. " Erskine's advocacy was marked by that attention totrifles which has often contributed to the success of distinguishedartists. His special retainers frequently took him to parts of thecountry where he was a stranger, and required him to make eloquentspeeches in courts which his voice had never tested. It was his customon reaching the town where he would have to plead on the following day, to visit the court over-night, and examine its arrangements, so thatwhen the time for action arrived he might address the jury from the mostfavorable spot in the chamber. He was a theatrical speaker, and omittedno pains to secure theatrical effect. It was noticed that he neverappeared within the bar until the _cause célèbre_ had been called; anda buzz of excitement and anxious expectation testified the eagerness ofthe assembled crowd to _see_, as well as to hear, the celebratedadvocate. Every article of his bar costume received his especialconsideration; artifice could be discerned in the modulations of hisvoice, the expressions of his countenance, and the movements of hisentire body; but the coldest observer did not detect the artifice untilit had stirred his heart. Rumor unjustly asserted that he never utteredan impetuous peroration which he had not frequently rehearsed in privatebefore a mirror. About the cut and curls of his wigs, their texture andcolor, he was very particular: and the hands which he extended inentreaty towards British juries were always cased in lemon-colored kidgloves. 

Erskine was not more noticeable for the foppishness of his dress thanwas Lord Kenyon for a sordid attire. Whilst he was a leading advocatewithin the bar, Lord Kenyon's ordinary costume would have disgraced acopying clerk; and during his later years, it was a question amongstbarristers whether his breeches were made of velvet or leather. The witsmaintained that when he kissed hands upon his elevation to theAttorney's place, he went to court in a second-hand suit purchased fromLord Stormont's _valet_. In the letter attributed to him by a cleverwriter in the 'Rolliad, ' he is made to say--"My income has been cruellyestimated at seven, or, as some will have it, eight thousand pounds perannum. I shall save myself the mortification of denying that I am rich, and refer you to the constant habits and whole tenor of my life. Theproof to my friends is easy. My tailor's bill for the last fifteen yearsis a record of the most indisputable authority. Malicious souls maydirect you, perhaps, to Lord Stormont's _valet de chambre_, and canvouch the anecdote that on the day when I kissed hands for myappointment to the office of Attorney General, I appeared in a lacedwaistcoat that once belonged to his master. I bought the waistcoat, butdespise the insinuation; nor is this the only instance in which I amobliged to diminish my wants and apportion them to my very limitedmeans. Lady K---- will be my witness that until my last appointment Iwas an utter stranger to the luxury of a pocket-handkerchief. " Thepocket-handkerchief which then came into his possession was supposed tohave been found in the pocket of the second-hand waistcoat; and Jekyllalways maintained that, as it was not considered in the purchase, itremained the valet's property, and did not pass into the lawyer'srightful possession. This was the only handkerchief which Lord Kenyon issaid to have ever possessed, and Lord Ellenborough alluded to it when, in a conversation that turned upon the economy which the income-taxwould necessitate in all ranks of life, he observed--"Lord Kenyon, whois not very nice, intends to meet the crisis by laying down hishandkerchief. "

Of his lordship's way of getting through seasons of catarrh without ahandkerchief, there are several stories that would scarcely please thefastidious readers of this volume. 

Of his two wigs (one considerably less worn than the other), and of histwo hats (the better of which would not have greatly disfigured an oldclothesman, whilst the worse would have been of service to aprofessional scarecrow), Lord Kenyon took jealous care. The inferior wigwas always worn with the better hat, and the more dilapidated hat withthe superior wig; and it was noticed that when he appeared in court withthe shabbier wig he never removed his _chapeau_; whereas, on the dayswhen he sat in his more decent wig, he pushed his old cocked hat out ofsight. In the privacy of his house and in his carriage, whenever hetraveled beyond the limits of town, he used to lay aside wig and hat, and cover his head with an old red night-cap. Concerning his great-coat, the original blackness of which had been tempered by long usage into afuscous green, capital tales were fabricated. The wits could not spareeven his shoes. "Once, " Dr. Didbin gravely narrated, "in the case of anaction brought for the non-fulfillment of a contract on a large scalefor shoes, the question mainly was, whether or not they were well andsoundly made, and with the best materials. A number of witnesses werecalled, one of them, a first-rate character in the gentle craft, beingclosely questioned, returned contradictory answers, when the ChiefJustice observed, pointing to his own shoes, which were regularlybestridden by the broad silver buckle of the day, 'Were the shoesanything like these?' 'No, my lord, ' replied the evidence, 'they were agood deal better and more genteeler. '" Dr. Didbin is at needless painsto assure his readers that the shoemaker's answer was followed byuproarious laughter. 

PART V. 

MUSIC. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

THE PIANO IN CHAMBERS. 

In the Inns of Court, even more often than in the colleges of Oxford andCambridge, musical instruments and performances are regarded by severestudents with aversion and abhorrence. Mr. Babbage will live in peaceand charity with the organ-grinders who are continually doing him anunfriendly turn before the industrious conveyancer on the first floorwill pray for the welfare of 'that fellow upstairs' who daily practisesthe flute or cornopean from 11 A. M. To 3 P. M. The 'Wandering Minstrels'and their achievements are often mentioned with respect in the westerndrawing-rooms of London; but if the gentlemen who form thatdistinguished _troupe_ of amateur performers wish to sacrifice theirpresent popularity and take a leading position amongst the socialnuisances of the period, they should migrate from the district whichdelights to honor them to chambers in Old Square, Lincoln's Inn, andgive morning concerts every day of term time. 

Working lawyers feel warmly on this subject, maintaining that no manshould be permitted to be an _amateur_-barrister and an_amateur_-musician at the same time, and holding that law-students witha turn for wind-instruments should, like vermin, be hunted down andknocked on the head--without law. Strange stories might be told of thediscords and violent deeds to which music has given rise in the fourInns. In the last century many a foolish fellow was 'put up' at tenpaces, because he refused to lay down an ophicleide; even as late asGeorge IV. 's time death has followed from an inordinate addiction to theviolin; and it was but the other day that the introduction of a pianointo a house in Carey Street led to the destruction of three close andwarm friendships. 

So alive are lawyers to the frightful consequences of a wholesaleexhibition of melodious irritants, that a natural love of order anddesire for self-preservation has prompted them to raise numerousobstructions to the free development of musical science in theirpeculiar localities of town. In the Inns of Court and Chancery Laneprofessional etiquette forbids barristers and solicitors to play uponorgans, harmoniums, pianos, violins, or other stringed instruments, drums, trumpets, cymbals, shawms, bassoons, triangles, castanets or anyother bony devices for the production of noise, flageolets, hautboys, orany other sort of boys--between the hours of 9 A. M. And 6 P. M. And thisrule of etiquette is supported by various special conditions introducedinto the leases by which the tenants hold much of the local houseproperty. Under some landlords, a tenant forfeits his lease if heindulges in any pursuit that causes annoyance to his immediateneighbors; under others, every occupant of a set of chambers bindshimself not to play any musical instrument therein, save between thehours of 9 A. M. And 12 P. M. ; and in more than one clump of chambers, situated within a stone's throw from Chancery Lane, glee-singing is notpermitted at any period of the four-and-twenty hours. 

That the pursuit of harmony is a dangerous pastime for young lawyerscannot be questioned, although a long list might be given of cases wheremusical barristers have gained the confidence of many clients, andeventually raised themselves to the bench. A piano is a treacherouscompanion for the student who can touch, it deftly--dangerous as an idlefriend, whose wit is ever brilliant; fascinating as a beautiful woman, whose smile is always fresh; deceptive as the drug which seems toinvigorate, whilst in reality it is stealing away the intellectualpowers. Every persevering worker knows how large a portion of his hardwork has been done 'against the grain, ' and in spite of stronginclinations to indolence--in hours when pleasant voices could haveseduced him from duty, and any plausible excuse for indulgence wouldhave been promptly accepted. In the piano these pleasant voices areconstantly present, and it can always show good reason--why reluctantindustry should relax its exertions. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE BATTLE OF THE ORGANS. 

Sir Thomas More and Lord Bacon--the two most illustrious laymen who haveheld the Great Seal of England--were notable musicians; and manysubsequent Keepers and Chancellors are scarcely less famous for love ofharmonious sounds than for judicial efficiency. Lord Keeper Guildfordwas a musical amateur, and notwithstanding his low esteem of literaturecondescended to write about melody. Lord Jeffreys was a goodafter-dinner vocalist, and was esteemed a high authority on questionsconcerning instrumental performance. Lord Camden was an operaticcomposer; and Lord Thurlow studied thorough-bass, in order that he mightdirect the musical exercises of his children. 

In moments of depression More's favorite solace was the viol; and sogreatly did he value musical accomplishments in women, that he not onlyinstructed his first and girlish wife to play on various instruments, but even prevailed on the sour Mistress Alice Middleton "to take lessonson the lute, the cithara, the viol, the monochord, and the flute, whichshe daily practised to him. " But More's love of music was expressedstill more forcibly in the zeal with which he encouraged and took partin the choral services of Chelsea Church. Throughout his residence atChelsea, Sir Thomas was a regular attendant at the church, and duringhis tenure of the seals he not only delighted to chant the appointedpsalms, but used to don a white surplice, and take his place among thechoristers. Having invited the Duke of Norfolk to dine with him, theChancellor prepared himself for the enjoyment of that great peer'ssociety by attending divine service, and he was still occupied with hisreligious exercises when his Grace of Norfolk entered the church, and tohis inexpressible astonishment saw the keeper of the king's consciencein the flowing raiment of a chorister, and heard him give "Glory to Godin the highest!" as though he were a hired singer. "God's body! God'sbody! My Lord Chancellor a parish clerk?--a parish clerk?" was theduke's testy expostulation with the Chancellor. Whereupon More, withgentle gravity, answered, "Nay; your grace may not think that theking--your master and mine--will with me, for serving his Master, beoffended, and thereby account his office dishonored. " Not only was itMore's custom to sing in the church choir, but he used also to bear across in religious processions; and on being urged to mount horse whenhe followed the rood in Rogation week round the parish boundaries, heanswered, "It beseemeth not the servant to follow his master prancing ona cock-horse, his master going on foot. " Few incidents in Sir ThomasMore's remarkable career point more forcibly to the vast differencebetween the social manners of the sixteenth century and those of thepresent day. If Lord Chelmsford were to recreate himself with leadingthe choristers in Margaret Street, and after service were seen walkinghomewards in an ecclesiastical dress, it is more than probable thatpublic opinion would declare him a fit companion for the lunatics ofwhose interests he has been made the official guardian. Society feltsome surprise as well as gratification when Sir Roundell Palmer recentlypublished his 'Book of Praise;' but if the Attorney General, instead ofprinting his select hymns had seen fit to exemplify their beauties withhis own voice from the stall of a church-singer, the piety of hisconduct would have scarcely reconciled Lord Palmerston to its dangerouseccentricity. 

Amongst Elizabethan lawyers, Chief Justice Dyer was by no means singularfor his love of music, though Whetstone's lines have given exceptionalcelebrity to his melodious proficiency:--

 "For publique good, when care had cloid his minde, The only joye, for to repose his sprights, Was musique sweet, which showd him well inclind; For he doth in musique much delight, A conscience hath disposed to do most right: The reason is, her sound within our eare, A sympathie of heaven we thinke we heare. "

Like James Dyer, Francis Bacon found music a pleasant and salutarypastime, when he was fatigued by the noisy contentions of legal practiceor by strenuous application to philosophic pursuits. A perfect master ofthe science of melody, Lord Bacon explained its laws with a clearnesswhich has satisfied competent judges that he was familiar with thepractice as well as the theories of harmony; but few passages of hisworks display more agreeably his personal delight and satisfaction inmusical exercise and investigation than that section of the 'NaturalHistory, ' wherein he says, "And besides I practice as I do advise; whichis, after long inquiry of things immersed in matter, to interpose somesubject which is immateriate or less materiate; such as this of sounds:to the end that the intellect may be rectified and become not partial. "

A theorist as well as performer, the Lord Keeper Guilford enunciated hisviews regarding the principles of melody in 'A Philosophical Essay ofMusick, Directed to a Friend'--a treatise that was published without theauthor's name, by Martin, the printer to the Royal Society, in the year1677, at which time the future keeper was Chief Justice of the CommonPleas. The merits of the tract are not great; but it displays thesubtlety and whimsical quaintness of the musical lawyer, who performedon several instruments, was very vain of a feeble voice, and used toattribute much of his professional success to the constant study ofmusic that marked every period of his life. "I have heard him say, "Roger records, "that if he had not enabled himself by these studies, andparticular his practice of music upon his bass or lyra viol (which heused to touch lute-fashion upon his knee), to divert himself alone, hehad never been a lawyer. His mind was so airy and volatile he could nothave kept his chamber if he must needs be there, staked down purely tothe drudgery of the law, whether in study or practice; and yet uponsuch a leaden proposition, so painful to brisk spirits, all the successof the profession, regularly pursued, depends. " His first acquaintancewith melodious art was made at Cambridge, where in his undergraduatedays he took lessons on the viol. At this same period he "had theopportunity of practice so much in his grandfather's and father'sfamilies, where the entertainment of music in full concert was solemnand frequent, that he outdid all his teachers, and became one of theneatest violinists of his time. " Scarcely in consistence with thisdeclaration of the Lord Keeper's proficiency on the violin is a laterpassage of the biography, where Roger says that his brother "attemptedthe violin, being ambitious of the prime part in concert, but soon foundthat he began such a difficult art too late. " It is, however, certainthat the eminent lawyer in the busiest passages of his laborious lifefound time for musical practice, and that besides his essay on music, hecontributed to his favorite art several compositions which wereperformed in private concert-rooms. 

Sharing in the musical tastes of his family, Roger North, thebiographer, was the _friend_ who used to touch the harpsichord thatstood at the door of the Lord Keeper's bedchamber; and when politicalchanges had extinguished his hopes of preferment, he found consolationin music and literature. Retiring to his seat in Norfolk, Roger fittedup a concert-room with instruments that roused the astonishment ofcountry squires, and an organ that was extolled by critical professorsfor the sweetness of its tones. In that seclusion, where he lived toextreme old age, the lettered lawyer composed the greater part of thosewritings which have rendered him familiar to the present generation. Ofhis 'Memoirs of Musick, ' readers are not accustomed to speak sogratefully as of his biographies; but the curious sketch which Dr. Rimbault edited and for the first time published in 1846, is worthy ofperusal, and will maintain a place on the shelves of literary collectorsby the side of his brother's 'Essay. '

In that treatise Roger alludes to a contest which in the reigns ofCharles II. And James II. Agitated the musicians of London, divided theTemplars into two hostile parties, and for a considerable time gave riseto quarrels in every quarter of the town. All this disturbance resultedfrom "a competition for an organ in the Temple church, for which the twocompetitors, the best artists in Europe, Smith and Harris, were but justnot ruined. " The struggle thus mentioned in the 'Memoirs of Musick' isso comic an episode in the story of London life, and has been theoccasion of so much error amongst writers, that it claims briefrestatement in the present chapter. 

In February, 1682, the Benchers of the Temples, wishing to obtain fortheir church an organ of superlative excellence, invited Father Smithand Renatus Harris to compete for the honor of supplying the instrument. The masters of the benchers pledged themselves that "if each of theseexcellent artists would set up an organ in one of the halls belonging toeither of the societies, they would have erected in their church thatwhich, in the greatest number of excellencies, deserved the preference. "For more than twenty years Father Smith had been the first organ-builderin England; and the admirable qualities of his instruments testify tohis singular ability. A German artist (in his native country calledBernard Schmidt, but in London known as Father Smith), he hadestablished himself in the English capital as early as the summer of1660; and gaining the cordial patronage of Charles II. , he and his twogrand-nephews soon became leaders of their craft. Father Smith builtorgans for Westminster Abbey, for the Church of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, for St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, for Durham Cathedral, and forother sacred buildings. In St. Paul's Cathedral he placed the organwhich Wren disdainfully designated a "box of whistles;" and dying in1708, he left his son-in-law, Christopher Schreider, to complete theorgan which still stands in the chapel of Trinity College, Cambridge. But notwithstanding his greatness, Father Smith had rivals; his firstrival being Harris the Elder, who died in 1672, his second being RenatusHarris, or Harris the Younger. The elder Harris never caused Smith muchdiscomfort; but his son, Renatus, was a very clever fellow, and a strongparty of fashionable _connoisseurs_ declared that he was greatlysuperior to the German. Such was the position of these two rivals whenthe benchers made their proposal, which was eagerly accepted by theartificers, each of whom saw in it an opportunity for covering hisantagonist with humiliation. 

The men went to work: and within fourteen months their instruments wereready for competition. Smith finished work before Harris, and prevailedon the benchers to let him place his organ in the Temple church, wellknowing that the powers of the instrument could be much more readily andeffectively displayed in the church than in either of the dining-halls. The exact site where he fixed his organ is unknown, but the carefulauthor of 'A Few Notes on the Temple Organ, 1859, ' is of opinion that itwas put up "on the screen between the round and oblong churches--theposition occupied by the organ until the present organ-chamber wasbuilt, and the organ removed there during the progress of the completerestoration of the church in the year 1843. " No sooner had Harrisfinished his organ, than, following Father Smith's example, he askedleave of the benchers to erect it within the church. Harris's petitionto this effect bears date May 26, 1684; and soon afterwards the organwas "set up in the Church on the south side of the Communion Table. "

Both organs being thus stationed under the roof of the church, thecommittee of benchers appointed to decide on their relative meritsdeclared themselves ready to listen. The trial began, but manymonths--ay, some years--elapsed ere it came to an end. On either sidethe credit of the manufacturer was sustained by execution of the highestorder of art. Father Smith's organ was handled alternately by Purcelland Dr. Blow; and Draghi, the queen's organist, did his best to secure averdict for Renatus Harris. Of course the employment of these eminentmusicians greatly increased the number of persons who felt personalinterest in the contest. Whilst the pupils and admirers of Purcell andBlow were loud in declaring that Smith's organ ought to win, Draghi'sfriends were equally sure that the organ touched by his expert fingersought not to lose. Discussion soon became violent; and in everyprofession, clique, coterie of the town, supporters of Smith wrangledwith supporters of Harris. Like the battle of the Gauges in our time, the battle of the Organs was the grand topic with every class ofsociety, at Court and on 'Change, in coffee-houses and at ordinaries. Again and again the organs were tested in the hearing of dense andfashionable congregations; and as often the judicial committee wasunable to come to a decision. The hesitation of the judges put oil uponthe fire; for Smith's friends, indignant at the delay, asserted thatcertain members of the committee were bound to Harris by corruptconsiderations--an accusation that was retorted by the other side withequal warmth and want of justice. 

After the squabble had been protracted through many months, Harriscreated a diversion by challenging Father Smith to make additionalreed-stops within a given time. The challenge was accepted; andforthwith the Father went to work and made Vox Humana, Cremorne, DoubleCourtel, or Double Bassoon, and other stops. A day was appointed for therenewal of the contest; but party feeling ran so high, that during thenight preceding the appointed day a party of hot-headed Harrissiansbroke into the Temple Church, and cut Smith's bellows--so that on thefollowing morning his organ was of no more service than an oldlinen-press. A row ensued; and in the ardor of debate swords were drawn. 

In June, 1685, the benchers of the Middle Temple, made a writtendeclaration in favor of Father Smith, and urged that his organ should beforthwith accepted. Strongly and rather discourteously worded, thisdeclaration gave offence to the benchers of the Inner Temple, whoregarded it as an attempt at dictation; and on June 22, 1685, theyrecommended the appointment of another committee with powers to decidethe contest. Declining to adopt this suggestion, the Middle Templebenchers reiterated their high opinion of Smith's instrument. On thisthe Battle of the Organs became a squabble between the two Temples; andthe outside public, laughing over the quarrel of the lawyers, expresseda hope that honest men would get their own since the rogues had fallenout. 

At length, when the organ-builders had well-nigh ruined each other, andthe town had grown weary of the dispute, the Inner Temple yieldedsomewhere about the beginning of 1688--at an early date of which yearSmith received a sum of money in part payment for his organ. On May 27thof the same year, Mr. Pigott was appointed organist. After its rejectionby the Temple, Renatus Harris divided his organ into two, and havingsent the one part to the cathedral of Christ's Church, Dublin, he set upthe other part in the church of St. Andrew, Holborn. Three years afterhis disappointment, Renatus Harris was tried at the Old Bailey for apolitical offence, the nature of which may be seen from the followingentry in Narcissus Luttrell's Diary:--"April, 1691. The Sessions havebeen at the Old Bailey, where these persons, Renatus Harris, John Watts, William Rutland, Henry Gandy, and Thomas Tysoe, were tried at the OldBailey for setting up policies of insurance that Dublin would be in thehands of some other king than their present majesties by Christmas next:the jury found them guilty of a misdemeanor. " For this offence RenatusHarris was fined £200, and was required to give security for his goodconduct until Christmas. 

An erroneous tradition assigns to Lord Jeffreys the honor of bringingthe Battle of the Organs to a conclusion, and writers improving uponthis tradition, have represented that Jeffreys acted as sole umpirebetween the contendants. In his 'History of Music, ' Dr. Burney, to whomthe prevalence of this false impression is mainly due, observes--"Atlength the decision was left to Lord Chief Justice Jeffries, afterwardsKing James the Second's pliant Chancellor, who was of that society (theInner Temple), and he terminated the controversy in favor of FatherSmith; so that Harris's organ was taken away without loss of reputation, having so long pleased and puzzled better judges than Jefferies. "

Careful inquirers have ascertained that Harris's organ did not go toWolverhampton, but to Dublin and St. Andrew's Holborn, part of it beingsent to the one, and part to the other place. It is certain that Jeffryswas not chosen to act as umpire in 1681, for the benchers did not maketheir original proposal to the rival builders until February, 1682; andyears passed between that date and the termination of the squabble. WhenBurney wrote:--"At length the decision was left to Lord Chief JusticeJefferies, _afterwards King James II. 's pliant Chancellor_, " themusician was unaware that the squabble was still at white heat whilstJeffreys occupied the woolsack. On his return from the Western Campaign, Jeffreys received the seals in September, 1685, whereas the disputeabout the organs did not terminate till the opening of 1688, or atearliest till the close of 1687. There is no authentic record in thearchives of the Temples which supports, or in any way countenances, thestory that Jeffreys made choice of Smith's instrument; but it is highlyprobable that the Lord Chancellor exerted his influence with the InnerTemple (of which society he was a member), and induced the benchers, forthe sake of peace, to yield to the wishes of the Middle Temple. It is noless probable that his fine musical taste enabled him to see that theMiddle Temple benchers were in the right, and gave especial weight tohis words when he spoke against Harris's instrument. 

Though Jeffreys delighted in music, he does not seem to have held itsprofessors in high esteem. In the time of Charles II. Musical artists ofthe humbler grades liked to be styled 'musitioners;' and on a certainoccasion, when he was sitting as Recorder for the City of London, GeorgeJeffreys was greatly incensed by a witness who, in a pompous voice, called himself a musitioner. With a sneer the Recorder interposed--"Amusitioner! I thought you were a fiddler!" "I am a musitioner, " theviolinist answered, stoutly. "Oh, indeed, " croaked Jeffreys. "That isvery important--highly important--extremely important! And pray, Mr. Witness, what is the difference between a musitioner and a fiddler?"With fortunate readiness the man answered, "As much, sir, as there isbetween a pair of bag-pipes and a Recorder. "

CHAPTER XXVII. 

A THICKNESS IN THE THROAT. 

The date is September, 1805, and the room before us is a drawing-room ina pleasant house at Brighton. The hot sun is beating down on cliff andterrace, beach and pier, on the downs behind the town and the sparklingsea in front. The brightness of the blue sky is softened by white vaporthat here and there resembles a vast curtain of filmy gauze, but nowherehas gathered into visible masses of hanging cloud. In the distance thesea is murmuring audibly, and through the screened windows, togetherwith the drowsy hum of the languid waves, comes a light breeze that isinvigorating, notwithstanding its sensible warmth. 

Besides ourselves there are but two people in the room: a gentlewomanwho has said farewell to youth, but not to feminine grade and delicacy;and an old man, who is lying on a sofa near one of the open windows, whilst his daughter plays passages of Handel's music on the piano-forte. 

The old man wears the dress of an obsolete school of English gentlemen;a large brown wig with three rows of curls, the lowest row resting onthe curve of his shoulders; a loose grey coat, notable for the size ofits cuffs and the bigness of its heavy buttons; ruffles at his wrists, and frills of fine lace below his roomy cravat. These are the mostconspicuous articles of his costume, but not the most striking points ofhis aspect. Over his huge, pallid, cadaverous, furrowed face there is anair singularly expressive of exhaustion and power, of debility andlatent strength--an air that says to sensitive beholders, "Thisprostrate veteran was once a giant amongst giants; his fires are dyingout; but the old magnificent courage and ability will never altogetherleave him until the beatings of his heart shall have quite ceased: touchhim with foolishness or disrespect, and his rage will be terrible. "Standing here we can see his prodigious bushy eyebrows, that are aswhite as driven snow, and under them we can see the large black eyes, beneath the angry fierceness of which hundreds of proud British peers, assembled in their council-chamber, have trembled like so many whippedschoolboys. There is no lustre in them now, and their habitualexpression is one of weariness and profound indifference to the world--alook that is deeply pathetic and depressing, until some transient causeof irritation or the words of a sprightly talker rouse him intoanimation. But the most noticeable quality of his face is its look ofextreme age. Only yesterday a keen observer said of him, "Lord Thurlowis, I believe, only seventy-four; and from his appearance I should thinkhim a hundred years old. "

So quiet is the reclining form, that the pianist thinks her father mustbe sleeping. Turning on the music-stool to get a view of hiscountenance, and to satisfy herself as to his state, she makes a falsenote, when, quick as the blunder, the brown wig turns upon thepillow--the furrowed face is presented to her observation, and anelectric brightness fills the big black eyes, as the veteran, with deeprolling tones, reproves her carelessness:--"What are you doing?--whatare you doing? I had almost forgotten the world. Play that piece again. "

Twelve months more--and the lady will be playing Handel's music on thatsame instrument; but the old man will not be a listener. 

From Brighton, in 1805, let readers transport themselves to Canterburyin 1776, and let them enter a barber's shop, hard by CanterburyCathedral. It is a primitive shop, with the red and white pole over thedoor, and a modest display of wigs and puff-boxes in the window. A smallshop, but, notwithstanding its smallness, the best shop of its kind inCanterbury; and its lean, stiff, exceedingly respectable master is a manof good repute in the cathedral town. His hands have, ere now, powderedthe Archbishop's wig, and he is specially retained by the chief clergyof the city and neighborhood to keep their false hair in order, and trimthe natural tresses of their children. Not only have the dignitaries ofthe cathedral taken the worthy barber under their special protection, but they have extended to his little boy Charles, a demure, prim lad, who is at this present time a pupil in the King's School, to whichacademy clerical interest gained him admission. The lad is in hisfourteenth year; and Dr. Osmund Beauvoir, the master of the school, gives him so good a character for industry and dutiful demeanor, thatsome of the cathedral ecclesiastics have resolved to make the littlefellow's fortune--by placing him in the office of a Chorister. There isa vacant place in the cathedral choir; and the boy who is lucky enoughto receive the appointment will be provided for munificently. He willforthwith have a maintenance, and in course of time his salary will be£70 per annum. 

During the last fortnight the barber has been in great and constantexcitement--hoping that his little boy will obtain this valuable pieceof preferment; persuading himself that the lad's thickness of voice, concerning which the choir-master speaks with aggravating persistence, is a matter of no real importance; fearing that the friends of anothercontemporary boy, who is said by the choir-master to have an exceedinglymellifluous voice, may defeat his paternal aspirations. The momentousquestion agitates many humble homes in Canterbury; and whilst Mr. Abbott, the barber, is encouraged to hope the best for his son, therelatives and supporters of the contemporary boy are urging him not todespair. Party spirit prevails on either side--Mr. Abbott's familyassociates maintaining that the contemporary boy's higher notes resemblethose of a penny whistle; whilst the contemporary boy's father, withmuch satire and some justice, murmurs that "old Abbott, who is thegossip-monger of the parsons, wants to push his son into a place forwhich there is a better candidate. "

To-day is the eventful day when the election will be made. Even now, whilst Abbott, the barber, is trimming a wig at his shop window, andlistening to the hopeful talk of an intimate neighbor, his son Charleyis chanting the Old Hundredth before the whole chapter. When Charley hasbeen put through his vocal paces, the contemporary boy is requested tosing. Whereupon that clear-throated competitor, sustained by justifiableself-confidence and a new-laid egg which he had sucked scarcely a minutebefore he made his bow to their reverences, sings out with such richnessand compass that all the auditors recognize his great superiority. 

Ere ten more minutes have passed Charley Abbot knows that he has lostthe election; and he hastens from the cathedral with quick steps. Running into the shop he gives his father a look that tells the wholestory of--failure, and then the little fellow, unable to command hisgrief, sits down upon the floor and sobs convulsively. 

Failure is often the first step to eminence. 

Had the boy gained the chorister's place, he would have a cathedralservant all his days. 

Having failed to get it, he returned to the King's School, went a poorscholar to Oxford, and fought his way to honor. He became Chief Justiceof the King's Bench, and a peer of the realm. Towards the close of hishonorable career Lord Tenterden attended service in the Cathedral ofCanterbury, accompanied by Mr. Justice Richardson. When the ceremonialwas at an end the Chief Justice said to his friend--"Do you see that oldman there amongst the choristers? In him, brother Richardson, behold theonly being I ever envied: when at school in this town we were candidatestogether for a chorister's place; he obtained it; and if I had gained mywish he might have been accompanying you as Chief Justice, and pointingme out as his old school-fellow, the singing man. "

PART VI. 

AMATEUR THEATRICALS. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

ACTORS AT THE BAR. 

Some years since the late Sergeant Wilkins was haranguing a crowd ofenlightened electors from the hustings of a provincial borough, when astentorian voice exclaimed, "Go home, you rope-dancer!" Disdaining tonotice the interruption, the orator continued his speech for fiftyseconds, when the same voice again cried out, "Go home, yourope-dancer!" A roar of laughter followed the reiteration of the insult;and in less than two minutes thrice fifty unwashed blackguards wereroaring with all the force of their lungs, "Ah-h-h--Go home, yourope-dancer!" Not slow to see the moaning of the words, the unabashedlawyer, who in his life had been a dramatic actor, replied with hisaccustomed readiness and effrontery. A young man unacquainted with mobswould have descanted indignantly and with many theatrical flourishes onthe dignity and usefulness of the player's vocation; an ordinarydemagogue would have frankly admitted the discourteous impeachment, andpleaded in mitigation that he had always acted in leading parts and forhigh salaries. Sergeant Wilkins took neither of those courses, for heknew his audience, and was aware that his connection with the stage wasan affair about which he had better say as little as possible. Insteadof appealing to their generosity, or boasting of his histrioniceminence, he threw himself broadly on their sense of humor. Drawinghimself up to his full height, the big, burly man advanced to the margeof the platform, and extending his right hand with an air of authority, requested silence by the movement of his arm. The sign was instantlyobeyed; for having enjoyed their laugh, the multitude wished for therope-dancer's explanation. As soon as the silence was complete, he drewback two paces, put himself in an oratorical _pose_, as though he wereabout to speak, and then, disappointing the expectations of theassembly, deliberately raised forwards and upwards the skirts of hisfrock-coat. Having thus arranged his drapery he performed a slowgyration--presenting his huge round shoulders and unwieldy legs to thepopulace. When his back was turned to the crowd, he stooped and made alow obeisance to his vacant chair, thereby giving the effect ofcaricature to the outlines of his most protuberant and least honorablepart. This pantomime lasted scarcely a minute; and before the spectatorscould collect themselves to resent so extraordinary an affront, thesergeant once again faced them, and in a clear, rich, jovial toneexclaimed, "_He_ called me a rope-dancer!--after what you have seen, doyou believe him?"

With the exception of the man who started the cry, every person in thedense multitude was convulsed with laughter; and till the end of theelection no turbulent rascal ventured to repeat the allusion to thesergeant's former occupation. At a moment of embarrassment, Mr. Disraeli, in the course of one of his youthful candidatures, created adiversion in his favor by telling a knot of unruly politicians that he_stood on his head_. With less wit, and much less decency, but withequal good fortune, Sergeant Wilkins took up his position on a baserpart of his frame. 

The electors who respected Mr. Wilkins because he was a successfulbarrister, whilst they reproached him with having been a stage-player, were unaware how close an alliance exists between the art of the actorand the art of the advocate. To lawyers of every grade and specialitythe histrionic faculty is a useful power; but to the advocate who wishesto sway the minds of jurors it is a necessary endowment. Comprisingseveral distinct abilities, it not only enables the orator to rouse thepassions and to play on the prejudices of his hearers, but it preserveshim from the errors of judgment, tone, emphasis--in short, from manifoldblunders of indiscretion and tact by which verdicts are lost quite asoften as through defect of evidence and merit. Like the dramaticperformer, the court-speaker, especially at the common law bar, has toassume various parts. Not only should he know the facts of his brief, but he should thoroughly identify himself with the client for whom hiseloquence is displayed. On the theatrical stage mimetic business is cutup into specialities, men in most cases filling the parts of men, whilstactresses fill the parts of women; the young representing thecharacteristics of youth, whilst actors with special endowments simulatethe qualities of old age; some confining themselves to light and trivialcharacters, whilst others are never required to strut before the sceneswith hurried paces, or to speak in phrases that lack dignity and finesentiment. But the popular advocate must in turn fill every _rôle_. Ifchildish simplicity be his client's leading characteristic, hisintonations will express pliancy and foolish confidence; or if it isdesirable that the jury should appreciate his client's honesty ofpurpose, he speaks with a voice of blunt, bluff, manly frankness. Whatever quality the advocate may wish to represent as the client'sdistinctive characteristic, it must be suggested to the jury by mimeticartifice of the finest sort. Speaking of a famous counsel, anenthusiastic juryman once said to this writer--"In my time I have heardSir Alexander in pretty nearly every part: I've heard him as an old manand a young woman; I have heard him when he has been a ship run down atsea, and when he has been an oil-factory in a state of conflagration;once, when I was foreman of a jury, I saw him poison his intimatefriend, and another time he did the part of a pious bank director in afashion that would have skinned the eyelids of Exeter Hall: he ain't badas a desolate widow with nine children, of which the eldest is undereight years of age; but if ever I have to listen to him again, I shouldlike to see him as a young lady of good connexions who has been seducedby an officer of the Guards. " In the days of his forensic triumphs HenryBrougham was remarkable for the mimetic power which enabled him todescribe friend or foe by a few subtle turns of the voice. At a laterperiod, long after he had left the bar, in compliance with a requestthat he would return thanks for the bridesmaids at a wedding breakfast, he observed, that "doubtless he had been selected for the task inconsideration of his youth, beauty, and innocence. " The laughter thatfollowed this sally was of the sort which in poetic phraseology iscalled inextinguishable; and one of the wedding guests who heard thejoke and the laughter, assures this writer that the storm of mirthfulapplause was chiefly due to the delicacy and sweetness of theintonations by which the speaker's facile voice, with its old and oncefamiliar art, made the audience realize the charms of youth, beauty andinnocence--charms which, so far as the lawyer's wrinkled visage wasconcerned, were conspicuous by their absence. 

Eminent advocates have almost invariably possessed qualities that wouldhave made them successful mimics on the stage. For his mastery oforatorical artifices Alexander Wedderburn was greatly indebted toSheridan, the lecturer on elocution, and to Macklin, the actor, fromboth of whom he took lessons; and when he had dismissed his teachers andbecome a leader of the English bar he adhered to their rules, and dailypractised before a looking-glass the facial tricks by which Macklintaught him to simulate surprise or anger, indignation or triumph. Erskine was a perfect master of dramatic effect, and much of hisrichly-deserved success was due to the theatrical artifices with whichhe played upon the passions of juries. At the conclusion of a longoration he was accustomed to feign utter physical prostration, so thatthe twelve gentlemen in the box, in their sympathy for his sufferingsand their admiration for his devotion to the interests of his client, might be impelled by generous emotion to return a favorable verdict. Thus when he defended Hardy, hoarseness and fatigue so overpowered himtowards the close of his speech, that during the last ten minutes hecould not speak above a whisper, and in order that his whispers might beaudible to the jury, the exhausted advocate advanced two steps nearer totheir box, and then extended his pale face to their eager eyes. Theeffect of the artifice on the excited jury is said to have been greatand enduring, although they were speedily enlightened as to the realnature of his apparent distress. No sooner had the advocate received thefirst plaudits of his theatre on the determination of his harangue, thanthe multitude outside the court, taking up the acclamations which wereheard within the building, expressed their feelings with such deafeningclamor, and with so many signs of riotous intention, that Erskine wasentreated to leave the court and soothe the passions of the mob with afew words of exhortation. In compliance with this suggestion he left thecourt, and forthwith addressed the dense out-door assembly in clear, ringing tones that were audible in Ludgate Hill, at one end of the OldBailey, and to the billowy sea of human heads that surged round St. Sepulchre's Church at the other extremity of the dismal thoroughfare. 

At the subsequent trial of John Horne Tooke, Sir John Scott, unwillingthat Erskine should enjoy a monopoly of theatrical artifice, endeavoredto create a diversion in favor of the government by a display of thoselachrymose powers, which Byron ridiculed in the following century. "Ican endure anything but an attack on my good name, " exclaimed theAttorney General, in reply to a criticism directed against his mode ofconducting the prosecution; "my good name is the little patrimony I haveto leave to my children, and, with God's help, gentlemen of the jury, Iwill leave it to them unimpaired. " As he uttered these words tearssuffused the eyes which, at a later period of the lawyer's career, usedto moisten the woolsack in the House of Lords--

 "Because the Catholics would not rise, In spite of his prayers and his prophecies. "

For a moment Horne Tooke, who persisted in regarding all thecircumstances of his perilous position as farcical, smiled at thelawyer's outburst in silent amusement; but as soon as he saw asympathetic brightness in the eyes of one of the jury, the dexterousdemagogue with characteristic humor and effrontery accused Sir JohnMitford, the Solicitor General, of needless sympathy with thesentimental disturbance of his colleague. "Do you know what Sir JohnMitford is crying about?" the prisoner inquired of the jury. "He isthinking of the destitute condition of Sir John Scott's children, andthe _little patrimony_ they are likely to divide among them. " The juryand all present were not more tickled by the satire upon the AttorneyGeneral than by the indignant surprise which enlivened the face of SirJohn Mitford, who was not at all prone to tears, and had certainlymanifested no pity for John Scott's forlorn condition. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

"THE PLAY'S THE THING. "

Following the example set by the nobility in their castles and civicpalaces, the Inns of Court set apart certain days of the year forfeasting and revelry, and amongst the diversions with which the lawyersrecreated themselves at these periods of rejoicing, the rudePre-Shakespearian dramas took a prominent place. So far back as A. D. 1431, the Masters of the Lincoln's Inn Bench restricted the number ofannual revels to four--"one at the feast of All-Hallown, another at thefeast of St. Erkenwald; the third at the feast of the Purification ofour Lady; and the 4th at Midsummer. " The ceremonials of these holidayswere various; but the brief and sometimes unintelligible notices of thechroniclers give us sufficiently vivid and minute pictures of theboisterous jollity that marked the proceedings. Miracle plays andmoralities, dancing and music, fantastic processions and mad pranks, spurred on the hours that were not devoted to heavy meals and deeppotations. In the merriments of the different Inns there was a pleasantdiversity--with regard to the duration and details of theentertainments: and occasionally the members of the four societies actedwith so little concert that their festivals, falling at exactly the sametime, were productive of rivalry and disappointments. Dugdale thinksthat the Christmas revels were not regularly kept in Lincoln's Innduring the reign of Henry VIII. ; and draws attention to an order made bythe benchers of that house on 27 Nov. , 22 H. VIII. , the record of whichruns thus:--"It is agreed that IF the two Temples do kepe Chrystemas, then the Chrystemas to be kept here; and to know this, the Steward ofthe House ys commanded to get knowledge, and to advertise my masters bythe next day at night. "

But notwithstanding changes and novelties, the main features of a revelin an Inn of Court were always much the same. Some member of the societyconspicuous for rank or wit of style, or for a combination of thesequalities, was elected King of the Revel, and until the close of thelong frolic he was despot and sole master of the position--so long as hedid not disregard a few not vexatious conditions by which, the bencherslimited his authority. He surrounded himself with a mock court, exactedhomage from barristers and students, made proclamations to his loyalchildren, sat on a throne at daily banquets, and never appeared inpublic without a body-guard, and a numerous company of musicians, toprotect his person and delight his ear. 

The wit and accomplishments of the younger lawyers were signallydisplayed in the dramatic interludes that usually enlivened thesesomewhat heavy and sluggish jollifications. Not only did they write thepieces, and put them before the audience with cunning devices for theproduction of scenic effect, but they were their own actors. It was notlong before their 'moralities' were seasoned with political sentimentsand allusions to public affairs. For instance, when Wolsey was in thefulness of his power, Sergeant Roo ventured to satirize the Cardinal ina masque with which Gray's Inn entertained Henry VIII. And hiscourtiers. Hall records that, "This plaie was so set furth with richeand costlie apparel; with strange diuises of maskes and morrishes, thatit was highly praised of all menne saving the Cardinall, whiche imaginedthat the plaie had been deuised of him, and in greate furie sent for thesaid Maister Roo, and toke from hym his coife, and sent him to theFlete, and after he sent for the yoong gentlemen that plaied in theplaie, and them highly rebuked and threatened, and sent one of them, called Thomas Moyle, of Kent, to the Flete; but by means of friendesMaster Roo and he wer deliuered at last. " The author stoutly denied thathe intended to satirize the Cardinal; and the chronicler, believing thesergeant's assertions, observes, "This plaie sore displeased theCardinal, and yet it was never meant to him. " That the presentation ofplays was a usual feature of the festivals at Gray's Inn may be inferredfrom the passage where Dugdale, in his notes on that society, says;--"In4 Edw. VI. (17 Nov. ), it was also ordered that henceforth there shouldbe no comedies called _Interludes_ in this House out of Term time, butwhen the feast of the Nativity of our Lord is solemnly observed. Andthat when there shall be any such comedies, then all the society at thattime in commons to bear the charge of the apparel. "

Notwithstanding her anxiety for the maintenance of good discipline inthe Inns of Court, Queen Elizabeth encouraged the Societies to celebratetheir feasts with costliness and liberal hospitality, and her taste fordramatic entertainments increased the splendor and frequency oftheatrical diversions amongst the lawyers. Christopher Hatton's name isconnected with the history of the English drama, by the acts which hecontributed to 'The Tragedie of Tancred and Gismunda, compiled by thegentlemen of the Inner Temple, and by them presented before hermajestie;' and he was one of the chief actors in that ponderous andextravagant mummery with which the Inner Temple kept Christmas in thefourth year of Elizabeth's reign. 

The circumstances of that festival merit special notice. 

In the third year of Elizabeth's reign the Middle Temple and the InnerTemple were at fierce war, the former society having laid claim toLyon's Inn, which had been long regarded as a dependency of the InnerTemple. The two Chief Justices, Sir Robert Catlyn and Sir James Dyer, were known to think well of the claimant's title, and the masters of theInner Temple bench anticipated an adverse decision, when Lord RobertDudley (afterwards Earl of Leicester) came to their relief with an orderfrom Queen Elizabeth enjoining the Middle Templars no longer to vextheir neighbors in the matter. Submission being the only course open tothem, the lawyers of the Middle Temple desisted from their claim; andthe Masters of the Inner Temple Bench expressed their great gratitude toLord Robert Dudley, "by ordering and enacting that no person or personsof their society that then were, or thereafter should be, should beretained of councell against him the said Lord Robert, or his heirs; andthat the arms of the said Lord Robert should be set up and placed insome convenient place in their Hall as a continual monument of hislordship's favor unto them. "

Further honors were paid to this nobleman at the ensuing Christmas, whenthe Inner Temple held a revel of unusual magnificence and made LordRobert the ruler of the riot. Whilst the holidays lasted the younglord's title and style were "Pallaphilos, prince of Sophie HighConstable Marshal of the Knights Templars, and Patron of the HonorableOrder of Pegasus. " And he kept a stately court, having for his chiefofficers--Mr. Onslow (Lord Chancellor), Anthony Stapleton (LordTreasurer), Robert Kelway (Lord Privy Seal), John Fuller (Chief Justiceof the King's Bench), William Pole (Chief Justice of the Common Pleas), Roger Manwood (Chief Baron of the Exchequer), Mr. Bashe (Steward of theHousehold), Mr. Copley (Marshal of the Household), Mr. Paten (ChiefButler), Christopher Hatton (Master of the Game), Messieurs Blaston, Yorke, Penston, Jervise (Masters of the Revels), Mr. Parker (Lieutenantof the Tower), Mr. Kendall (Carver), Mr. Martyn (Ranger of the Forests), and Mr. Stradling (Sewer). Besides these eighteen Placemen, Pallaphiloshad many other mock officers, whose names are not recorded, and he wasattended by a body-guard of fourscore members of the Inn. 

From the pages of Gerard Leigh and Dugdale, the reader can obtain asufficiently minute account of the pompous ceremonials and heavybuffooneries of the season. He may learn some of the special servicesand contributions which Prince Pallaphilos required of his chiefcourtiers, and take note how Mr. Paten, as Chief Butler, had to provideseven dozen silver and gilt spoons, twelve dozen silver and giltsalt-cellars, twenty silver and gilt candlesticks, twenty fine largetable-cloths of damask and diaper, twenty dozen white napkins, threedozen fair large towels, twenty dozen white cups and green pots, to saynothing of carving-knives, carving table, tureens, bread, beer, ale, andwine. The reader also may learn from those chroniclers how the companywere placed according to degrees at different tables; how the banquetswere served to the sound of drums and fifes; how the boar's head wasbrought in upon a silver dish; how the gentlemen in gowns, thetrumpeters, and other musicians followed the boar's head in statelyprocession; and how, by a rule somewhat at variance with modern notionsconcerning old English hospitality, strangers of worth were expected topay in cash for their entertainment, eightpence per head being thecharge for dinner on the day of Christmas Eve, and twelve-pence beingdemanded from each stranger for his dinner on the following day. 

Ladies were not excluded from all the festivities; though it may bepresumed they did not share in all the riotous meals of the period. Itis certain that they were invited, together with the young law-studentsfrom the Inns of Chancery, to see a play and a masque acted in the hall;that seats were provided for their special accommodation in the hallwhilst the sports were going forward; and that at the close of thedramatic performances the gallant dames and pretty girls wereentertained by Pallaphilos in the library with a suitable banquet;whilst the mock Lord Chancellor, Mr. Onslow, presided at a feast in thehall, which with all possible speed had been converted from theatricalto more appropriate uses. 

But though the fun was rare and the array was splendid to idle folk ofthe sixteenth century, modern taste would deem such gaiety rude andwearisome, would call the ladies' banquet a disorderly scramble, andthink the whole frolic scarce fit for schoolboys. And in many respectsthose revels of olden time were indecorous, noisy, comfortless affairs. There must have been a sad want of room and fresh air in the InnerTemple dining-hall, when all the members of the inn, the selectedstudents from the subordinate Inns of Chancery, and half a hundredladies (to say nothing of Mr. Gerard Leigh and illustrious strangers), had crowded into the space set apart for the audience. At the dinnerswhat wrangling and tumult must have arisen through squabbles for place, and the thousand mishaps that always attend an endeavor to entertainfive hundred gentlemen at a dinner, in a room barely capacious enoughfor the proper accommodation of a hundred and fifty persons. Unless thiswriter greatly errs, spoons and knives were in great request, and tablelinen was by no means 'fair and spotless' towards the close of the rout. 

Superb, on that holyday, was the aspect of Prince Pallaphilos. Wearing acomplete suit of elaborately wrought and richly gilt armor, he boreabove his helmet a cloud of curiously dyed feathers, and held a giltpole-axe in his hand. By his side walked the Lieutenant of the Tower(Mr. Parker), clad in white armor, and like Pallaphilos furnished withfeathers and a pole-axe. 

On entering the hall the prince and his Lieutenant of the Tower werepreceded by sixteen trumpeters (at full blare), four drummers (at fulldrum), and a company of fifers (at full whistle), and followed by fourmen in white armor, bearing halberds in their hands. Thrice did thisprocession march round the fire that blazed in the centre of the hall;and when in the course of these three circuits the four halberdiers andthe musicians had trodden upon everybody's toes (their own included), and when moreover they had blown themselves out of time and breath, silence was proclaimed; and Prince Pallaphilos, having laid aside hispole-axe and his naked sword and a few other trifles, took his seat atthe urgent entreaty of the mock Lord Chancellor. 

But Kit Hatton's appearance and part in the proceedings were even moreoutrageously ridiculous. The future Lord Chancellor of England was thena very elegant and witty young fellow, proud of his quick humor andhandsome face, but far prouder of his exquisitely proportioned legs. Nosooner had Prince Pallaphilos taken his seat, at the Lord Chancellor'ssuggestion, than Kit Hatton (as master of the game) entered the hall, dressed in a complete suit of green velvet, and holding a green bow inhis left hand. His quiver was supplied with green arrows, and round hisneck was slung a hunting-horn. By Kit's side, arrayed in exactly thesame style, walked the Ranger of the Forests (Mr. Martyn); and havingforced their way into the crowded chamber, the two young men blew threeblasts of venery upon their horns, and then paced three times round thefire. After thus parading the hall they paused before the LordChancellor, to whom the Master of Game made three curtsies, and then onhis knees proclaimed the desire of his heart to serve the mighty PrincePallaphilos. 

Having risen from his kneeling posture Kit Hatton blew his horn, and atthe signal his huntsman entered the room, bringing with him a fox, acat, and ten couples of hounds. Forthwith the fox was released from thepole to which it was bound; and when the luckless creature had creptinto a corner under one of the tables, the ten couples of hounds weresent in pursuit. It is a fact that English gentlemen in the sixteenthcentury thus amused themselves with a fox-hunt in a densely crowdeddining-room. Over tables and under tables, up the hall and down thehall, those score hounds went at full cry after a miserable fox, whichthey eventually ran into and killed in the cinder-pit, or as Dugdaleexpresses it, "beneath the fire. " That work achieved, the cat was turnedoff, and the hounds sent after her, with much blowing of horns, muchcracking of whips, and deafening cries of excitement from the gownsmen, who tumbled over one another in their eagerness to be in at the death. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

THE RIVER AND THE STRAND BY TORCHLIGHT. 

Scarcely less out of place in the dining-hall than Kit Hatton's hounds, was the mule fairly mounted on which the Prince Pallaphilos made hisappearance at the High Table after supper, when he notified to hissubjects in what manner they were to disport themselves till bedtime. Thus also when the Prince of Purpoole kept his court at Gray's Inn, A. D. 1594, the prince's champion rode into the dining-hall upon the back of afiery charger which, like the rider, was clothed in a panoply of steel. 

In costliness and riotous excess the Prince of Purpoole's revel atGray's Inn was not inferior to any similar festivity in the time ofElizabeth. On the 20th of December, St. Thomas's Eve, the Prince (oneMaster Henry Holmes, a Norfolk gentleman) took up his quarters in theGreat Hall of the Inn, and by the 3rd day of January the grandeur andcomicality of his proceedings had created so much talk throughout thetown that the Lord Treasurer Burghley, the Earls of Cumberland, Essex, Shrewsbury and Westmoreland, the Lords Buckhurst, Windsor, Sheffield, Compton, and a magnificent array of knights and ladies visited Gray'sInn Hall on that day and saw the masque which the revellers put upon thestage. After the masque there was a banquet, which was followed by aball. On the following day the prince, attended by eighty gentlemen ofGray's Inn and the Temple (each of the eighty wearing a plume on hishead), dined in state with the Lord Mayor and aldermen of the city, atCrosby Place. The frolic continued for many days more; the royalPurpoole on one occasion visiting Blackwall with a splendid retinue, onanother (Twelfth Night) receiving a gallant assembly of lords, ladies, and Knights, at his court in Gray's Inn, and on a third (Shrovetide)visiting the queen herself at Greenwich, when Her Majesty warmlyapplauded the masque set before her by the actors who were members ofthe Prince's court. So delighted was Elizabeth with the entertainment, that she graciously allowed the masquers to kiss her right hand, andloudly extolled Gray's Inn "as an house she was much indebted to, for itdid always study for some sports to present unto her;" whilst to themock Prince she showed her favor, by placing in his hand the jewel (setwith seventeen diamonds and fourteen rubies) which he had won by valorand skill in the tournament which formed part of the Shrovetide sports. 

Numerous entries in the records of the inns testify to the importanceassigned by the olden lawyers to their periodic feasts; and though inthe fluctuations of public opinion with regard to the effects ofdramatic amusements, certain benchers, or even all the benchers of aparticular inn, may be found at times discountenancing the custom ofpresenting masques, the revels were usually diversified and heightenedby stage plays. Not only were interludes given at the high and grandholidays styled _Solemn Revels_, but also at the minor festivitiestermed Post Revels they were usually had recourse to for amusement. "Besides those _solemn revels_, or measures aforesaid, " says Dugdale, concerning the old usages of the 'Middle Temple, ' "they had wont to beentertained with Post Revels performed by the better sort of the younggentlemen of the society, with galliards, corrantoes, and other dances, or else with stage-plays; the first of these feasts being at thebeginning, and the other at the latter end of Christmas. But of lateyears these Post Revels have been disused, both here and in the otherInns of Court. "

Besides producing and acting some of our best Pro-Shakespearian dramas, the Elizabethan lawyers put upon the stage at least one of WilliamShakespeare's plays. From the diary of a barrister (supposed to be JohnManningham, of the Middle Temple), it is learnt that the MiddleTemplar's acted Shakespeare's 'Twelfth Night' at the Readers' feast onCandlemas Day, 1601-2. [20]

In the following reign, the masques of the lawyers in no degree fell offwith regard to splendor. Seldom had the Thames presented a morepicturesque and exhilarating spectacle than it did on the evening ofFebruary 20, 1612, when the gentlemen masquers of Gray's Inn and theTemple, entered the king's royal barge at Winchester House, at seveno'clock, and made the voyage to Whitehall, attended by hundreds ofbarges and boats, each vessel being so brilliantly illuminated that thelights reflected upon the ripples of the river, seemed to be countless. As though the hum and huzzas of the vast multitude on the water wereinsufficient to announce the approach of the dazzling pageant, gunsmarked the progress of the revellers, and as they drew near the palace, all the attendant bands of musicians played the same stirring tune withuniform time. It is on record that the king received the amateur actorswith an excess of condescension, and was delighted with the masque whichMaster Beaumont of the Inner Temple, and his friend, Master Fletcher, had written and dedicated "to the worthy Sir Francis Bacon, hisMajesty's Solicitor-General, and the grave and learned bench of theanciently-called houses of Grayes Inn and the Inner Temple, and theInner Temple and Grayes Inn. " The cost of this entertainment wasdefrayed by the members of the two inns--each reader paying £4, eachancient, £2 10_s. _; each barrister, £2, and each student, 20_s. _

The Inner Temple and Gray's Inn having thus testified their loyalty anddramatic taste, in the following year on Shrove-Monday night (Feb. 15, 1613), Lincoln's Inn and the Middle Temple, with no less splendor and_éclat_, enacted at Whitehall a masque written by George Chapman. Forthis entertainment, Inigo Jones designed and perfected the theatricaldecorations in a style worthy of an exhibition that formed part of thegaieties with which the marriage of the Palsgrave with the PrincessElizabeth was celebrated. And though the masquers went to Whitehall byland, their progress was not less pompous than the procession which hadpassed up the Thames in the February of the preceding year. Havingmustered in Chancery Lane, at the official residence of the Master ofthe Rolls, the actors and their friends delighted the town with agallant spectacle. Mounted on richly-caparisoned and mettlesome horses, they rode from Fleet Street up the Strand, and by Charing Cross toWhitehall, through a tempest of enthusiasm. Every house was illuminated, every window was crowded with faces, on every roof men stood in rows, from every balcony bright eyes looked down upon the gay scene, and frombasement to garret, from kennel to roof-top throughout the long way, deafening cheers testified, whilst they increased the delight of themultitude. Such a pageant would, even in these sober days, rouse Londonfrom her cold propriety. Having thrown aside his academic robe, eachmasquer had donned a fantastic dress of silver cloth embroidered withgold lace, gold plate, and ostrich plumes. He wore across his breast agold baldrick, round his neck a ruff of white feathers brightened withpearls and silver lace, and on his head a coronal of snowy plumes. Before each mounted masquer rode a torch-bearer, whose right hand waveda scourge of flame, instead of a leathern thong. In a gorgeous chariot, preceded by a long train of heralds, were exhibited the DramatisPersonæ--Honor, Plutus, Eunomia, Phemeis, Capriccio--arrayed in theirappointed costumes; and it was rumored that the golden canopy of theircoach had been bought for an enormous sum. Two other triumphal carsconveyed the twelve chief musicians of the kingdom, and these masters ofmelody were guarded by torch-bearers, marching two deep before andbehind, and on either side of the glittering carriages. Preceding themusicians, rode a troop of ludicrous objects, who roused the derision ofthe mob, and made fat burghers laugh till tears ran down their cheeks. They were the mock masque, each resembling an ape, each wearing afantastic dress that heightened the hideous absurdity of his monkey'svisage, each riding upon an ass, or small pony, and each of themthrowing shells upon the crowd by way of a largess. In the front of themock masque, forming the vanguard of the entire spectacle, rode fiftygentlemen of the Inns of Court, reining high-bred horses, and followedby their running footmen, whose liveries added to the gorgeousmagnificence of the display. 

Besides the expenses which fell upon individuals taking part in theplay, or procession, this entertainment cost the two inns £1086 8_s. _11_d. _ About the same time Gray's Inn, at the instigation of AttorneyGeneral Sir Francis Bacon, performed 'The Masque of Flowers' before thelords and ladies of the court, in the Banqueting-house, Whitehall; andsix years later Thomas Middleton's Inner Temple Masque, or Masque ofHeroes' was presented before a goodly company of grand ladies by theInner Templars. 

[20] The propensity of lawyers for the stage, lingered amongstbarristers on Circuit, to a comparatively recent date. 'Old stagers' ofthe Home and Western Circuits, can recall how the juniors of theirbriefless and bagless days used to entertain the natives of Guildfordand Exeter with Shakspearian performances. The Northern Circuit also wasat one time famous for the histrionic ability of its bar, but toward theclose of the last century, the dramatic recreations of its juniormembers were discountenanced by the Grand Court. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

ANTI-PRYNNE. 

Of all the masques mentioned in the records of the Inns of Court, themost magnificent and costly was the famous Anti-Prynne demonstration, bywhich the lawyers endeavored to show their contemptuous disapproval of awork that inveighed against the licentiousness of the stage, andpreferred a charge of wanton levity against those who encouragedtheatrical performances. 

Whilst the 'Histriomastix' rendered the author ridiculous to mere men ofpleasure, it roused fierce animosities by the truth and fearlesscompleteness of its assertions; but to no order of society was thefamous attack on the stage more offensive than to the lawyers; and oflawyers the members of Lincoln's Inn were the most vehement in theirdispleasure. The actors writhed under the attack; the lawyers wereliterally furious with rage--for whilst rating them soundly for theirlove of theatrical amusements, Prynne almost contrived to make it seemthat his views were acceptable to the wisest and most reverend membersof the legal profession. Himself a barrister of Lincoln's Inn, he withequal craft and audacity complimented the benchers of that society onthe firmness with which they had forbidden professional actors to takepart in the periodic revels of the inn, and on their inclination togovern the society in accordance with Puritanical principles. Addressinghis "Much Honored Friends, the Right Worshipful Masters of the Bench ofthe Honorable Flourishing Law Society of Lincoln's Inne, " theutter-barrister said: "For whereas other Innes of Court (I know not bywhat evil custom, and worse example) admit of common actors andinterludes upon their two grand festivalls, to recreate themselveswithall, notwithstanding the statutes of our Kingdome (of whichlawyers, of all others, should be most observant), have branded allprofessed stage-players for infamous rogues, and stage-playes forunlawful pastimes, especially on Lord's-dayes and other solemnholidayes, on which these grand dayes ever fall; yet such hath been yourpious tender care, not only of this societie's honor, but also of theyoung students' good (for the advancing of whose piety and studies youhave of late erected a magnificent chapel, and since that a library), that as you have prohibited by late publicke orders, all disorderlyBacchanalian Grand-Christmasses (more fit for pagans than Christians;for the deboisest roarers than grave civill students, who should bepatternes of sobriety unto others), together with all publicke dice-playin the Hall (a most pernicious, infamous game; condemned in all ages, all places, not onely by councels, fathers, divines, civilians, canonists, politicians, and other Christian writers; by divers Paganauthors of all sorts, and by Mahomet himselfe; but likewise by sundryheathen, yea, Christian Magistrates' edicts). "

Concerning the London theatres he observes that the "two old playhouses" (_i. E. _, the Fortune and the Red Bull), the "new theatre"(_i. E. _, Whitefriars play-house), and two other established theatres, being found inadequate to the wants of the play-going public, a sixththeatre had recently been opened. "The multitude of our Londonplay-haunters being so augmented now, that all the ancient Divvel'sChappels (for so the fathers style all play-houses) being five innumber, are not sufficient to containe their troops, whence we see asixth now added to them, whereas even in vitious Nero his raigne therewere but three standing theatres in Pagan Rome (though far more splendidthan Christian London), and those three too many. " Having thusenumerated some of the saddest features of his age, the author of the'Player's Scourge' again commends the piety and decorum of theLincoln's Inn Benchers, saying, "So likewise in imitation of the ancientLacedæmonians and Massilienses, or rather of primitive zealousChristians, you have always from my first admission into your society, and long before, excluded all common players with their ungodlyinterludes, from all your solemn festivals. "

If the benchers of one Inn winced under Prynne's 'expressions ofapproval, ' the students of all the Inns of Court were even moredispleased with the author who, in a dedicatory letter "to the rightChristian, Generous Young Gentlemen-Students of the four Innes of Court, and especially those of Lincolne's Inne, " urged them to "at lastfalsifie that ignominious censure which some English writers in theirprinted works have passed upon Innes of Court Students, of whom theyrecord:--That Innes of Court men were undone but for players, that theyare their chiefest guests and imployment, and the sole business thatmakes them afternoon's men; that is one of the first things they learneas soon as they are admitted, to see stage-playes, and take smoke at aplay-house, which they commonly make their studie; where they quicklylearne to follow all fashions, to drinke all healths, to wear favoursand good cloathes, to consort with ruffianly companions, to swear thebiggest oaths, to quarrel easily, fight desperately, quarrelinordinately, to spend their patrimony ere it fall, to use gracefullysome gestures of apish compliment, to talk irreligiously, to dally witha mistresse, and hunt after harlots, to prove altogether lawless insteed of lawyers, and to forget that little learning, grace, and vertuewhich they had before; so much that they grow at last past hopes of everdoing good, either to the church, their country, their owne or others'souls. "

The storm of indignation which followed the appearance of the'Histriomastix' was directed by the members of the Four Inns, who feltthemselves bound by honor no less than by interest, to disavow allconnexion with, or leaning towards, the unpopular author. 

On the suggestion of Lincoln's Inn, the four societies combined theirforces, and at a cost of more than twenty thousand pounds, in additionto sums spent by individuals, entertained the Court with that splendidmasque which Whitelock has described in his 'Memoirs' with elaborateprolixity. The piece entitled 'The Triumph of Peace, ' was written byShirley, and it was produced with a pomp and lavish expenditure thatwere without precedent. The organization and guidance of the undertakingwere entrusted to a committee of eight barristers, two from each inn;and this select body comprised men who were alike remarkable fortalents, accomplishments, and ambition, and some of whom were destinedto play strangely diverse parts in the drama of their epoch. Itcomprised Edward Hyde, then in his twenty-sixth year; young BulstrodeWhitelock, who had not yet astonished the more decorous magnates of hiscountry by wearing a falling-band at the Oxford Quarter Sessions; EdwardHerbert, the most unfortunate of Cavalier lawyers; John Selden, alreadya middle-aged man; John Finch, born in the same year as Selden, andalready far advanced in his eager course to a not honorable notoriety. Attorney General Noy was also of the party, but his disastrous careerwas already near its close. 

The committee of management had their quarters at Ely House, Holborn;and from that historic palace the masquers started for Whitehall on theeve of Candlemas Day, 1633-4. It was a superb procession. First marchedtwenty tall footmen, blazing in liveries of scarlet cloth trimmed withlace, each of them holding a baton in his right hand, and in his left aflaring torch that covered his face with light, and made the steel andsilver of his sword-scabbard shine brilliantly. A company of themarshal's men marched next with firm and even steps, clearing the wayfor their master. A burst of deafening applause came from the multitudeas the marshal rode through the gateway of Ely House, and caracoled overthe Holborn way on the finest charger that the king's stables couldfurnish. A perfect horseman and the handsomest man then in town, Mr. Darrel of Lincoln's Inn, had been elected to the office of marshal indeference to his wealth, his noble aspect, his fine nature, and hisperfect mastery of all manly sports. On either side of Mr. Darrel'shorse marched a lacquey bearing a flambeau, and the marshal's page wasin attendance with his master's cloak. An interval of some twenty paces, and then came the marshal's body-guard, composed of one hundred mountedgentlemen of the Inns of Court--twenty-five from each house; showing intheir faces the signs of gentle birth and honorable nurture; and withstrong hands reining mettlesome chargers that had been furnished fortheir use by the greatest nobles of the land. This flood of flashingchivalry was succeeded by an anti-masque of beggars and cripples, mounted on the lamest and most unsightly of rat-tailed srews andspavined ponies, and wearing dresses that threw derision on legalvestments and decorations. Another anti-masque satirized the wildprojects of crazy speculators and inventors; and as it moved along thespectators laughed aloud at the "fish-call, or looking-glass for fishesin the sea, very useful for fishermen to call all kinds of fish to theirnets;" the newly-invented wind-mate for raising a breeze over becalmedseas, the "movable hydraulic" which should give sleep to patientssuffering under fever. 

Chariots and horsemen, torch-bearers and lacqueys, followed in order. "Then came the first chariot of the grand masquers, which was not solarge as those that went before, but most curiously framed, carved, andpainted with exquisite art, and purposely for this service and occasion. The form of it was after that of the Roman triumphant chariots. Theseats in it were made of oval form in the back end of the chariot, sothat there was no precedence in them, and the faces of all that sat init might be seen together. The colors of the first chariot were silverand crimson, given by the lot to Gray's Inn: the chariot was drawn withfour horses all abreast, and they were covered to their heels all overwith cloth of tissue, of the colors of crimson and silver, huge plumesof white and red feathers on their heads; the coachman's cap andfeather, his long coat, and his very whip and cushion of the same stuffand color. In this chariot sat the four grand masquers of Gray's Inn, their habits, doublets, trunk-hose, and caps of most rich cloth oftissue, and wrought as thick with silver spangles as they could beplaced; large white stockings up to their trunk-hose, and rich sprigs intheir cap, themselves proper and beautiful young gentlemen. On each sideof the chariot were four footmen in liveries of the color of thechariot, carrying huge flamboys in their hands, which, with the torches, gave such a lustre to the paintings, spangles, and habits that hardlyanything could be invented to appear more glorious. "

Six musicians followed the state-chariot of Gray's Inn, playing as theywent; and then came the triumphal cars of the Middle Templars, the InnerTemplars, and the Lincoln's Inn men--each car being drawn by four horsesand attended by torch-bearers, flambeau-bearers, and musicians. In shapethese four cars were alike, but they differed in the color of theirfittings. Whilst Gray's Inn used scarlet and silver, the MiddleTemplars chose blue and silver decorations, and each of the other twohouses adopted a distinctive color for the housings of their horses andthe liveries of their servants. It is noteworthy that the inns (equal asto considerations of dignity) took their places in the pageant by lot;and that the four grand masquers of each inn were seated in theirchariot on seats so constructed that none of the four took precedence ofthe others. The inns, in days when questions of precedence received muchattention, were very particular in asserting their equality, whenevertwo or more of them acted in co-operation. To mark this equality, themasque written by Beaumont and Fletcher in 1612 was described "TheMasque of the Inner Temple and Grayes Inn; Grayes Inn and the InnerTemple:" and the dedication of the piece to Francis Bacon, reversingthis transposition, mentions "the allied houses of Grayes Inn and theInner Temple, and the Inner Temple and Grayes Inn, " these changes beingmade to point the equal rank of the two fraternities. 

Through the illuminated streets this pageant marched to the sound oftrumpets and drums, cymbals and fifes, amidst the deafening acclamationsof the delighted town; and when the lawyers reached Whitehall, the kingand queen were so delighted with the spectacle, that the procession wasordered to make the circuit of the tilt-yard for the gratification oftheir Majesties, who would fain see the sight once again from thewindows of their palace. Is there need to speak of the manner in whichthe masque was acted, of the music and dances, of the properties andscenes, of the stately banquet after the play and the grand ball whichbegan at a still later hour, of the king's urbanity and the graciousnessof Henrietta, who "did the honor to some of the masquers to dance withthem herself, and to judge them as good dancers as she ever saw!"

Notwithstanding a few untoward broils and accidents, the entertainmentpassed off so satisfactorily that 'The Triumph of Peace' was acted for asecond time in the presence of the king and queen, in the MerchantTaylors' Hall. Other diversions of the same kind followed with scarcelyless _éclat_. At Whitehall the king himself and some of the choicestnobles of the land turned actors, and performed a grand masque, on whichoccasion the Templars were present as spectators in seats of honor. 

During the Shrovetide rejoicings of 1635, Henrietta even condescended towitness the performance of Davenant's 'Triumphs of the Prince d'Amour, 'in the hall of the Middle Temple. Laying aside the garb of royalty, shewent to the Temple, attended by a party of lords and ladies, and finegentlemen who, like herself, assumed for the evening dresses suitable topersons of private station. The Marquis of Hamilton, the Countess ofDenbigh, the Countess of Holland, and Lady Elizabeth Fielding were hercompanions; whilst the official attendants on her person were the Earlof Holland, Lord Goring, Mr. Percy, and Mr. Jermyn. Led to her place by"Mrs. Basse, the law-woman, " Henrietta took a seat upon a scaffold fixedalong the northern side of the hall, and amidst a crush of benchers'wives and daughters saw the play and heartily enjoyed it. 

Says Whitelock, at the conclusion of his account of the grand masquegiven by the four inns, "Thus these dreams past, and these pompsvanished. " Scarcely had the frolic terminated when death laid a chillhand on the time-serving Noy, who in the consequences of his dishonestcounsels left a cruel legacy to the master and the country whom he alikebetrayed. A few more years--and John Finch, having lost the Great Seal, was an exile in a foreign land, destined to die in penury, withoutagain setting foot on his native soil. The graceful Herbert, whosesmooth cheek had flushed with joy at Henrietta's musical courtesies, became for a brief day the mock Lord Keeper of Charles II. 's mock courtat Paris, and then, dishonored and disowned by his capricious master, helanguished in poverty and disease, until he found an obscure grave inthe French capital. More fortunate than his early rival, Edward Hydeoutlived Charles Stuart's days of adverse fortune, and rose to agrievous greatness; but like that early rival, he, too, died in exile inFrance. Perhaps of all the managers of the grand masque the scholarlypedant, John Selden, had the greatest share of earthly satisfaction. Notthe least fortunate of the party was the historian of "the pomp andglory, if not the vanity of the show, " who having survived theCommonwealth and witnessed the Restoration, was permitted to retain hispaternal estate, and in his last days could tell his numerousdescendants how his old chum, Edward Hyde, had risen, fallen, and--passed to another world. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

AN EMPTY GRATE. 

With the revival of gaiety which attended and followed the Restoration, revels and masques came once more into vogue at the Inns of Court, where, throughout the Commonwealth, plays had been prohibited, andfestivals had been either abolished or deprived of their ancienthilarity. The caterers of amusement for the new king were not slow tosuggest that he should honor the lawyers with a visit; and in accordancewith their counsel, His Majesty took water on August 15, 1661, and wentin the royal barge from Whitehall to the Temple to dine at the Reader'sfeast. 

Heneage Finch had been chosen Autumn Reader of that inn, and inaccordance with ancient usage he demonstrated his ability to instructyoung gentlemen in the principles of English law, by giving a series ofcostly banquets. From the days of the Tudors to the rise of OliverCromwell, the Reader's feasts had been amongst the most sumptuous andostentatious entertainments of the town--the Sergeant's feasts scarcelysurpassing them in splendor, the inaugural dinners of lord mayors oftenlagging behind them in expense. But Heneage Finch's lavish hospitalityoutstripped the doings of all previous Readers. His revel was protractedthroughout six days, and on each of these days he received at his tablethe representative members of some high social order or learned body. Beginning with a dinner to the nobility and Privy Councillors, hefinished with a banquet to the king; and on the intervening days heentertained the civic authorities, the College of Physicians, the civillawyers, and the dignitaries of the Church. 

The king's visit was attended with imposing ceremony, and wanted nocircumstance that could have rendered the occasion more honorable to thehost or to the society of which he was a member. All the highestofficers of the court accompanied the monarch, and when he stepped fromhis barge at the Temple Stairs, he spoke with jovial urbanity to hisentertainer and the Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, who receivedhim with tokens of loyal deference and attachment. "On each side, " saysDugdale, "as His Majesty passed, stood the Reader's servants in scarletcloaks and white tabba doublets; there being a way made through the wallinto the Temple Gardens; and above them on each side the benchers, barristers, and other gentlemen of the society, all in their gowns andformalities, the loud music playing from the time of his landing till heentered the hall; where he was received with xx violins, which continuedas long as his majesty stayed. " Fifty chosen gentlemen of the inn, wearing their academic gowns, placed dinner on the table, and waited onthe feasters--no other servants being permitted to enter the hall duringthe progress of the banquet. On the dais at the top of the hall, under acanopy of state, the king and his brother James sat apart from men oflower degree, whilst the nobles of Whitehall occupied one long table, under the presidency of the Lord Chancellor, and the chief personages ofthe inn dined at a corresponding long table, having the reader for theirchairman. 

In the following January, Charles II. And the Duke of York honoredLincoln's Inn with a visit, whilst the mock Prince de la Grange held hiscourt within the walls of that society. Nine years later--in theFebruary of 1671--King Charles and his brother James again visitedLincoln's Inn, on which occasion they were entertained by Sir FrancisGoodericke, Knt. , the reader of the inn, who seems almost to have gonebeyond Heneage Finch in sumptuous profusion of hospitality. Of thisroyal visit a particular account is to be seen in the Admittance Book ofthe Honorable Society, from which it appears that the royal brotherswere attended by the Dukes of Monmouth and Richmond; the Earls ofManchester, Bath, and Anglesea; Viscount Halifax, the Bishop of Ely, Lord Newport, Lord Henry Howard, and "divers others of great qualitie. "

The entertainment in most respects was a repetition of Sir HeneageFinch's feast--the king, the Duke of York, and Prince Rupert dining onthe dais at the top of the hall, whilst the persons of inferior thoughhigh quality were regaled at two long tables, set down the hall; andthe gentlemen of the inn condescending to act as menial servants. Thereader himself, dropping on his knee when he performed the servileoffice, proffered the towel with which the king prepared himself for therepast; and barristers of ancient lineage and professional eminencecontended for the honor of serving His Majesty with surloin andcheesecake upon the knee, and hastened with the alacrity of well-trainedlacqueys to do the bidding of "the lords att their table. " Having eatenand drunk to his lively satisfaction, Charles called for the AdmittanceBook of the Inn, and placed his name on the roll of members, therebyconferring on the society an honor for which no previous king of Englandhad furnished a precedent. Following their chief's example, the Duke ofYork and Prince Rupert and other nobles forthwith joined the fraternityof lawyers; and hastily donning students' gowns, they mingled with thetroop of gowned servitors, and humbly waited on their liege lord. 

In like manner, twenty-one years since (July 29, 1845) when QueenVictoria and her lamented consort visited Lincoln's Inn, on the openingof the new hall, they condescended to enter their names in the AdmissionBook of the Inn, thereby making themselves students of the society. HerMajesty has not been called to the bar; but Prince Albert in due coursebecame a barrister and bencher. Repeating the action of Charles II. 'scourtiers, the great Duke of Wellington and the bevy of great noblespresent at the celebration became fellow-students with the queen; and onleaving the table the prince walked down the hall, wearing a student'sstuff gown (by no means the most picturesque of academic robes), overhis field-marshal's uniform. Her Majesty forbore to disarrange hertoilet--which consisted of a blue bonnet with blue feathers, a dress ofLimerick lace, and a scarlet shawl, with a deep gold edging--by puttingher arms through the sleeveless arm-holes of a bombazine frock. 

Grateful to the lawyers for the cordiality with which they welcomed himto the country, William III. Accepted an invitation to the MiddleTemple, and was entertained by that society with a banquet and a masque, of which notice has been taken in another chapter of this work; and in1697-8 Peter the Great was a guest at the Christmas revels of theTemplars. On that occasion the Czar enjoyed a favorable opportunity forgratifying his love of strong drink, and for witnessing the ease withwhich our ancestors drank wine by the magnum and punch by the gallon, when they were bent on enjoyment. 

In the greater refinement and increasing delicacy of the eighteenthcentury, the Inns of Court revels, which had for so many generationsbeen conspicuous amongst the gaieties of the town, became less and lessmagnificent; and they altogether died out under the second of thoseGeorges who are thought by some persons to have corrupted public moralsand lowered the tastes of society. In 1733-4, when Lord ChancellorTalbot's elevation to the woolsack was celebrated by a revel in theInner Temple Hall, the dulness and disorder of the celebration convincedthe lawyers that they had not acted wisely in attempting to reviveusages that had fallen into desuetude because they were inconvenient tonew arrangements or repugnant to modern taste. No attempt was made toprolong the festivity over a succession of days. It was a revel of oneday; and no one wished to add another to the period of riot. At twoo'clock on Feb. 2, 1733-4, the new Chancellor, the master of the revels, the benchers of the inns, and the guests (who were for the most partlawyers), sat down to dinner in the hall. The barristers and studentshad their ordinary fare, with the addition of a flask of claret to eachmess; but a superior repast was served at the High Table where fourteenstudents (of whom the Chancellor's eldest son was one), served aswaiters. Whilst the banquet was in progress, musicians stationed in thegallery at the upper end of the hall filled the room with deafeningnoise, and ladies looked down upon the feasters from a large gallerywhich had been fitted up for their reception over the screen. Afterdinner, as soon as the hall could be cleared of dishes and decanters, the company were entertained with 'Love for Love, ' and 'The Devil toPay, ' performed by professional actors who "all came from the Haymarketin chairs, ready dressed, and (as it was said), refused any gratuity fortheir trouble, looking upon the honor of distinguishing themselves onthis occasion as sufficient. " The players having withdrawn, the judges, sergeants, benchers, and other dignitaries, danced 'round about the coalfire;' that is to say, they danced round about a stove in which therewas not a single spark of fire. The congregation of many hundreds ofpersons, in a hall which had not comfortable room for half the number, rendered the air so oppressively hot that the master of the revelswisely resolved to lead his troop of revellers round an empty grate. Thechronicler of this ridiculous mummery observes: "And all the time of thedance the ancient song, accompanied by music, was sung by one TobyAston, dressed in a bar-gown, whose father had formerly been Master ofthe Plea Office in the King's Bench. When this was over, the ladies camedown from the gallery, went into the parliament chamber, and stayedabout a quarter of an hour, while the hall was being put in order. Theythen went into the hall and danced a few minuets. Country dances beganat ten, and at twelve a Very fine cold collation was provided for thewhole company, from which they returned to dancing, which theycontinued as long as they pleased, and the whole day's entertainment wasgenerally thought to be very genteelly and liberally conducted. ThePrince of Wales honored the performance with his company part of thetime; he came into the music _incog. _ about the middle of the play, andwent away as soon as the farce of 'walking round the coal fire' wasover. "

With this notable dance of lawyers round an empty grate, the old revelsdisappeared. In their Grand Days, equivalent to the gaudy days, or feastdays, or audit days of the colleges at Oxford and Cambridge, the Inns ofCourt still retain the last vestiges of their ancient jollifications, but the uproarious riot of the obsolete festivities is but faintlyechoed by the songs and laughter of the junior barristers and studentswho in these degenerate times gladden their hearts and loosen theirtongues with an extra glass of wine after grand dinners, and then hastenback to chambers for tobacco and tea. 

On the discontinuance of the revels the Inns of Court lost their chiefattractions for the courtly pleasure-seekers of the town, and many a daypassed before another royal visit was paid to any one of the societies. In 1734 George III. 's father stood amongst the musicians in the InnerTemple Hall; and after the lapse of one century and eleven years thepresent queen accepted the hospitality of Lincoln's Inn. No recordexists of a royal visit made to an Inn of Court between those events. Only the other day, however, the Prince of Wales went eastwards andpartook of a banquet in the hall of Middle Temple, of which society heis a barrister and a bencher. 

PART VII. 

LEGAL EDUCATION. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

INNS OF COURT AND INNS OF CHANCERY. 

Schools for the study of the Common Law, existed within the bounds ofthe city of London, at the commencement of the thirteenth century. Nosooner had a permanent home been assigned to the Court of Common Pleas, than legal practitioners fixed themselves in the neighborhood ofWestminster, or within the walls of London. A legal society speedilygrew up in the city; and some of the older and more learned professorsof the Common Law, devoting a portion of their time and energies to thelabors of instruction, opened academies for the reception of students. Dugdale notices a tradition that in ancient times a law-school, calledJohnson's Inn, stood in Dowgate, that another existed in Pewter Lane, and that Paternoster Row contained a third; and it is generally thoughtthat these three inns were amongst the academies which sprung up as soonas the Common Pleas obtained a permanent abode. 

The schools thus established in the opening years of the thirteenthcentury, were not allowed to flourish for any great length of time; forin the nineteenth year of his reign, Henry III. Suppressed them by amandate addressed to the mayor and sheriffs of the city. But though thisking broke up the schools, the scholars persevered in their study; andif the king's mandate aimed at a complete discontinuance of legalinstruction, his policy was signally defeated. 

Successive writers have credited Edward III. 's reign with theestablishment of Inns of Court; and it has been erroneously inferredthat the study of the Common Law not only languished, but was altogetherextinct during the period of nearly one hundred years that intervenedbetween Henry III. 's dissolution of the city schools and Edward III. 'saccession. Abundant evidence, however, exists that this was not thecase. Edward I. , in the twentieth year of his reign, ordered his judgesof the Common Pleas to "provide and ordain, from every county, certainattorneys and lawyers" (in the original "atturnatus et _apprenticiis_")"of the best and most apt for their learning and skill, who might doservice to his court and people; and those so chosen, and no othershould follow his court, and transact affairs therein; the words ofwhich order make it clear that the country contained a considerable bodyof persons who devoted themselves to the study and practice of the law. "So also in the Year-book, 1 Ed. III. , the words, "et puis une apprentisedemand, " show that lawyers holding legal degrees existed in the veryfirst year of Edward III. 's reign; a fact which justifies the inferencethat in the previous reign England contained Common Law schools capableof granting the legal degree of apprentice. Again Dugdale remarks, "In20 Ed. III. , in a _quod ei deforciat_ to an exception taken, it wasanswered by Sir Richard de Willoughby (then a learned justice of the_Common Pleas_) and William Skipwith, (afterwards also one of thejustices of that court), that the same was no exception amongst the_Apprentices in Hostells or Inns_. " Whence it is manifest that Inns ofCourt were institutions in full vigor at the time when they have beensometimes represented as originally established. 

But after their expulsion from the city, there is reason to think thatthe common lawyers made no attempt to reside in colleges within itsboundaries. They preferred to establish themselves on spots where theycould enjoy pure air and rural quietude, could surround themselves withtrees and lawns, or refresh their eyes with the sight of the silverThames. In the earliest part of the fourteenth century, they tookpossession of a great palace that stood on the western outskirt of thetown, and looked westwards upon green fields, whilst its eastern wallabutted on New Street--a thoroughfare that was subsequently calledChancellor's Lane, and has for many years been known as Chancery Lane. This palace had been the residence of Henry Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, whoconferred upon the building the name which it still bears. The earl diedin 1310, some seventeen years before Edward III. 's accession; andThynne, the antiquary, was of opinion that no considerable periodintervened between Henry Lacy's death and the entry of the lawyers. Inthe same century, the lawyers took possession of the Temple. The exactdate of their entry is unknown; but Chaucer's verse enables the studentto fix, with sufficient preciseness, the period when the more nobleapprentices of the law first occupied the Temple as tenants of theKnight's Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem, who obtained a grant ofthe place from Edward III. [21] The absence of fuller particularsconcerning the early history of the legal Templars, is ordinarily andwith good reason attributed to Wat Tyler's rebels, who destroyed therecords of the fraternity by fire. From roof to basement, beginning withthe tiles, and working downwards, the mob destroyed the principal housesof the college; and when they had burnt all the archives on which theycould lay hands, they went off and expended their remaining fury onother buildings, of which the Knights of St. John were proprietors. 

The same men who saw the lawyers take possession of the Temple on thenorthern banks of the Thames, and of the Earl of Lincoln's palace in NewStreet, saw them also make a third grand settlement. The manor ofPortepoole, or Purpoole, became the property of the Grays of Wilton, inthe twenty-second year of Edward I. ; and on its green fields, lyingnorth of Holborn, a society of lawyers established a college which stillretains the name of the ancient proprietors of the soil. Concerning theexact date of its institution, the uncertainty is even greater thanthat which obscures the foundation of the Temple and Lincoln's Inn; butantiquaries have agreed to assign the creation of Gray's Inn, as anhospicium for the entertainment of lawyers, to the time of Edward III. 

The date at which the Temple lawyers split up into two separatesocieties, is also unknown; but assigning the division to some periodposterior to Wat Tyler's insurrection, Dugdale says, "But, notwithstanding, this spoil by the rebels, those students so increasedhere, that at length they divided themselves into two bodies; the onecommonly known by the Society of the Inner Temple, and the other of theMiddle Temple, holding this mansion as tenants. " But as both societieshad a common origin in the migration of lawyers from Thavies Inn, Holborn, in the time of Edward III. , it is usual to speak of the twoTemples as instituted in that reign, and to regard all four Inns ofCourt as the work of the fourteenth century. 

The Inns of Chancery for many generations maintained towards the Inns ofCourt a position similar to that which Eton School maintains towardsKing's at Cambridge, or that which Winchester School holds to NewCollege at Oxford. They were seminaries in which lads underwentpreparation for the superior discipline and greater freedom of the fourcolleges. Each Inn of Court had its own Inns of Chancery, yearlyreceiving from them the pupils who had qualified themselves forpromotion to the status of Inns-of-Court men. In course of time, students after receiving the preliminary education in an Inn of Chancerywere permitted to enter an Inn of Court on which their Inn of Chancerywas not dependent; but at every Inn of Court higher admission fees werecharged to students coming from Inns of Chancery over which it had nocontrol, than to students who came from its own primary schools. If thereader bears in mind the difference in respect to age, learning, andprivileges between our modern public schoolboys and universityundergraduates, he will realize with sufficient nearness to truth thedifferences which existed between the Inns of Chancery students and theInns of Court students in the fifteenth century; and in the students, utter-barristers, and benchers of the Inns of Court at the same periodhe may see three distinct orders of academic persons closely resemblingthe undergraduates, bachelors of arts, and masters of arts in ouruniversities. 

In the 'De Laudibus Legum Angliæ, '[22] written in the latter part of thefifteenth century, Sir John Fortescue says--"But to the intent, mostexcellent Prince, yee may conceive a forme and an image of this study, as I am able, I wil describe it unto you. For there be in it ten lesserhouses or innes, and sometimes moe, which are called Innes of theChauncerye. And to every one of them belongeth an hundred students atleast, and to some of them a much greater number, though they be notever all together in the same. "

In Charles II. 's time there were eight Inns of Chancery; and of themthree were subsidiary to the Inner Temple--viz. , Clifford's Inn, Clement's Inn, and Lyon's Inn. Clifford's Inn (originally the townresidence of the Barons Clifford) was first inhabited by law-students inthe eighteenth year of Edward III. Clement's Inn (taking its name fromthe adjacent St. Clement's Well) was certainly inhabited by law-studentsas early as the nineteenth year of Edward IV. Lyon's Inn was an Inn ofChancery in the time of Henry V. 

One alone (New Inn) was attached to the Middle Temple. In the previouscentury, the Middle Temple had possessed another Inn of Chancery calledStrand Inn; but in the third year of Edward VI. This nursery was pulleddown by the Duke of Somerset, who required the ground on which it stoodfor the site of Somerset House. 

Lincoln's Inn had for dependent schools Furnival's Inn and ThaviesInn--the latter of which hostels was inhabited by law-students in EdwardIII. 's time. Of Furnival's Inn (originally Lord Furnival's town mansion, and converted into a law-school in Edward VI. 's reign) Dugdale says:"After which time the Principall and Fellows of this Inne have paid tothe society of Lincoln's Inne the rent of iiil vis iiid as an yearlyrent for the same, as may appear by the accompts of that house; and byspeciall order there made, have had these following priviledges: first(viz. 10 Eliz. ), that the utter-barristers of Furnivall's Inne, of ayeares continuance, and so certified and allowed by the Benchers ofLincoln's Inne, shall pay no more than four marks apiece for theiradmittance into that society. Next (viz. In Eliz. ) that every fellow ofthis inne, who hath been allowed an utter-barrister here, and that hathmooted here two vacations at the Utter Bar, shall pay no more for theiradmission into the Society of Lincoln's Inne, than xiiis iiiid, thoughall utter-barristers of any other Inne of Chancery (excepting ThavyesInne) should pay xxs, and that every inner-barrister of this house, whohath mooted here one vacation at the Inner Bar, should pay for hisadmission into this House but xxs, those of other houses (exceptingThavyes Inne) paying xxvis viiid. "

The subordinate seminaries of Gray's Inn, in Dugdale's time, were StapleInn and Barnard's Inn. Originally the Exchange of the London woolenmerchants, Staple Inn was a law-school as early as Henry V. 's time. Itis probable that Bernard's Inn became an academy for law-students inthe reign of Henry VI. 

[21] Chaucer mentions the Temple thus:--

"A manciple there was of the Temple, Of which all catours might takeensemple For to be wise in buying of vitaile; For whether he pay'd ortook by taile, Algate he wayted so in his ashate, That he was aye beforein good estate. Now is not that of God a full faire grace, That such aleude man's wit shall pace The wisdome of an heape of learned men? Ofmasters had he more than thrice ten, That were of law expert andcurious, Of which there was a dozen in that house, Worthy to beenstewards of rent and land Of any lord that is in England; To maken himlive by his proper good In honour debtless, but if he were wood; Or liveas scarcely as him list desire, And able to helpen all a shire, In anycase that might have fallen or hap, And yet the manciple set all hercapp. "

[22] The 'De Laudibus' was written in Latin; but for the convenience ofreaders not familiar with that classic tongue, the quotations from thetreatise are given from Robert Mulcaster's English version. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

LAWYERS AND GENTLEMEN. 

Thus planted in the fourteenth century beyond the confines of the city, and within easy access of Westminster Hall, the Inns of Court andChancery formed an university, which soon became almost as powerful andfamous as either Oxford or Cambridge. For generations they were spokenof collectively as the law-university, and though they were voluntarysocieties--in their nature akin to the club-houses of modernLondon--they adopted common rules of discipline, and an uniform systemof instruction. Students flocked to them in abundance; and whereas thestudents of Oxford and Cambridge were drawn from the plebeian ranks ofsociety, the scholars of the law-university were almost invariably thesons of wealthy men and had usually sprung from gentle families. To be alaw-student was to be a stripling of quality. The law university enjoyedthe same patrician _prestige_ and _éclat_ that now belong to the morearistocratic houses of the old universities. 

Noblemen sent their sons to it in order that they might acquire thestyle and learning and accomplishments of polite society. A proportionof the students were encouraged to devote themselves to the study of thelaw and to attend sedulously the sittings of Judges in Westminster Hall;but the majority of well-descended boys who inhabited the Inns ofChancery were heirs to good estates, and were trained to become theirwealth rather than to increase it--to perfect themselves in gracefularts, rather than to qualify themselves to hold briefs. The same was thecase in the Inns of Court, which were so designated--not because theyprepared young men to rise in courts of law, but because they taughtthem to shine in the palaces of kings. It is a mistake to suppose thatthe Inns of Court contain at the present time a larger proportion ofidle members, who have no intention to practise at the bar, than theycontained under the Plantagenets and Tudors. On the contrary, in thefourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the number of Templars who merelyplayed at being lawyers, or were lawyers only in name, was actually aswell as relatively greater than the merely _nominal_ lawyers of theTemple at the present time. For several generations, and for twocenturies after Sir John Fortescue wrote the 'De Laudibus, ' theInns-of-Court man was more busied in learning to sing than in learningto argue a law cause, more desirous to fence with a sword than to fencewith logic. 

"Notwithstanding, " runs Mulcaster's translation of the 'DeLaudibus, '[23] "the same lawes are taught and learned, in a certaineplace of publique or common studie, more convenient and apt forattayninge to the knowledge of them, than any other university. Fortheyr place of studie is situate nigh to the Kinges Courts, where thesame lawes are pleaded and argued, and judgements by the same given byjudges, men of gravitie, auncient in yeares, perfit and graduate in thesame lawes. Wherefore, euerie day in court, the students in those lawesresorte by great numbers into those courts wherein the same lawes areread and taught, as it were in common schooles. This place of studie isfar betweene the place of the said courts and the cittie of London, which of all thinges necessarie is the plentifullest of all cities andtownes of the realme. So that the said place of studie is not situatewithin the cittie, where the confluence of people might disturb thequietnes of the studentes, but somewhat severall in the suburbes of thesame cittie, and nigher to the saide courts, that the studentes maydayelye at their pleasure have accesse and recourse thither withoutweariness. "

Setting forth the condition and pursuits of law-students in his day, SirJohn Fortesque continues; "For in these greater inns, there can nostudent bee mayntayned for lesse expenses by the yeare than twentyemarkes. And if hee have a servaunt to wait uppon him, as most of themhave, then so much the greater will his charges bee. Nowe, by reason ofthis charge, the children onely of noblemenne doo studye the lawes inthose innes. For the poore and common sorte of the people are not ableto bear so great charges for the exhibytion of theyr chyldren. AndMarchaunt menne can seldome finde in theyr heartes to hynder theyrmerchaundise with so greate yearly expenses. And it thus falleth outthat there is scant anye man founde within the realme skilfull andcunning in the lawes, except he be a gentleman borne, and come of noblestocke. Wherefore they more than any other kinde of men have a speciallregarde to their nobility, and to the preservation of their honor andfame. And to speake upryghtlye, there is in these greater innes, yea, and in the lesser too, beside the studie of the lawes, as it were anuniversity or schoole of all commendable qualities requisite for noblemen. There they learn to sing, and to exercise themselves in all kindeof harmonye. There also they practice daunsing, and other noblemen'spastimes, as they use to do, which are brought up in the king's house. On the working dayes, the most of them apply themselves to the studye ofthe lawe, and on the holye dayes to the studye of holye Scripture;[24]and out of the tyme of divine service, to the reading of Chronicles. Forthere indeede are vertues studied, and vices exiled. So that, for theendowment of vertue, and abandoning of vice, Knights and Barrons, withother states and noblemen of the realme, place their children in thoseinnes, though they desire not to have them learned in the lawes, nor tolieue by the practice thereof, but onely uppon their father's allowance. Scant at anye tyme is there heard among them any sedition, chyding, orgrudging, and yet the offenders are punished with none other payne, butonely to bee amooved from the compayne of their fellowshippe. Whichpunishment they doo more feare than other criminall offendours doo feareimprisonment and yrons: For hee that is once expelled from anye of thosefellowshippes is never received to bee a felowe in any of the otherfellowshippes. And so by this means there is continuall peace; and theirdemeanor is lyke the behaviour of such as are coupled together inperfect amytie. "

Any person familiar with the Inns of Court at the present time will seehow closely the law-colleges of Victoria's London resemble in manyimportant particulars the law-colleges of Fortescue's period. After thefashion of four centuries since young men are still induced to enterthem for the sake of honorable companionship, good society, and socialprestige, rather than for the sake of legal education. After the remarksalready made with regard to musical lawyers in a previous section ofthis work, it is needless to say that Inns of Court men are notremarkable for their application to vocal harmony; but the youngermembers are still remarkable for the zeal with which they endeavor tomaster the accomplishments which distinguish men of fashion and tone. Ifthe nominal (sometimes they are called 'ornamental') barristers of thefifteenth century liked to read the Holy Scriptures, the young lawyersof the nineteenth century are no less disposed to read their Biblescritically, and argue as to the merits of Bishop Colenso and hisopponents. Moreover, the discipline described by Fortescue is stillfound sufficient to maintain order in the inns. 

Writing more than a century after Fortescue, Sir John Ferne, in his'Blazon of Gentrie, the Glory of Generosity, and the Lacy's Nobility, 'observes: "Nobleness of blood, joyned with virtue, compteth the personas most meet to the enterprize of any public service; and for that causeit was not for nought that our antient governors in this land, did witha special foresight and wisdom provide, that none should be admittedinto the Houses of Court, being seminaries sending forth men apt to thegovernment of justice, except he were a gentleman of blood. And thatthis may seem a truth, I myself have seen a kalendar of all those whichwere together in the society of one of the same houses, about the lastyear of King Henry the Fifth, with the armes of their House and familymarshalled by their names; and I assure you, the self same monument dothboth approve them all to be gentlemen of perfect descents and also thenumber of them much less than now it is, being at that time in one housescarcely three score. "[25]

This passage from an author who delighted to magnify the advantages ofgenerous descent, has contributed to the very general and erroneousimpression that until comparatively recent times the members of theEnglish bar were necessarily drawn from the highest ranks of society;and several excellent writers on the antiquities of the law have laidaside their customary caution and strengthened Ferne's words withinaccurate comment. 

Thus Pearce says of the author of the 'Glory of Generositie'--"He wasone of the advocates for excluding from the Inns of Court all who werenot 'a gentleman by blood, ' according to the ancient rule mentioned byFortescue, which seems to have been disregarded in Elizabeth's time. "Fortescue nowhere mentions any such rule, but attributes thearistocratic character of the law-colleges to the high cost ofmembership. Far from implying that men of mean extraction were excludedby an express prohibition, his words justify the inference that no suchrule existed in his time. 

Though Inns-of-Court men were for many generations gentlemen by birthalmost without a single exception, it yet remains to be proved thatplebeian birth at any period disqualified persons for admission to thelaw-colleges. If such a restriction ever existed it had disappearedbefore the close of the fifteenth century--a period not favorable to theviews of those who were most anxious to remove the barriers placed byfeudal society between the gentle and the vulgar. Sir John More (thefather of the famous Sir Thomas) was a Judge in the King's Bench, although his parentage was obscure; and it is worthy of notice that hewas a successful lawyer of Fortescue's period. Lord Chancellor Audleywas not entitled to bear arms by birth, but was merely the son of aprosperous yeoman. The lowliness of his extraction cannot have been anyserious impediment to him, for before the end of his thirty-sixth yearhe was a sergeant. In the following century the inns received a steadilyincreasing number of students, who either lacked generous lineage orwere the offspring of shameful love. For instance, Chief Justice Wray'sbirth was scandalous; and if Lord Ellesmere in his youth reflected withpride on the dignity of his father, Sir Richard Egerton, he had reasonto blush for his mother. Ferne's lament over the loss of heraldricvirtue and splendor, which the inns had sustained in his time, testifiesto the presence of a considerable plebeian element amongst the membersof the law-university. But that which was marked in the sixteenth wasfar more apparent in the seventeenth century. Scroggs's enemies werewrong in stigmatizing him as a butcher's son, for the odious chiefjustice was born and bred a gentleman, and Jeffreys could boast a decentextraction; but there is abundance of evidence that throughout thereigns of the Stuarts the inns swarmed with low-born adventurers. Thecareer of Chief Justice Saunders, who, beginning as a "poor beggar boy, "of unknown parentage, raised himself to the Chiefship of the King'sBench, shows how low an origin a judge might have in the seventeenthcentury. To mention the names of such men as Parker, King, Yorke, Ryder, and the Scotts, without placing beside them the names of such men asHenley, Harcourt, Bathurst, Talbot, Murray, and Erskine, would tend tocreate an erroneous impression that in the eighteenth century the barceased to comprise amongst its industrious members a large aristocraticelement. 

The number of barristers, however, who in that period brought themselvesby talent and honorable perseverance into the foremost rank of the legalprofession in spite of humble birth, unquestionably shows that ambitiousmen from the obscure middle classes were more frequently than in anyprevious century found pushing their fortunes in Westminster Hall. LordMacclesfield was the son of an attorney whose parents were of lowlyorigin, and whose worldly means were even lower than their ancestralcondition. Lord Chancellor King's father was a grocer and salter whocarried on a retail business at Exeter; and in his youth the Chancellorhimself had acted as his father's apprentice--standing behind thecounter and wearing the apron and sleeves of a grocer's servitor. PhilipYorke was the son of a country attorney who could boast neither wealthnor gentle descent. Chief Justice Ryder was the son of a mercer whoseshop stood in West Smithfield, and grandson of a dissenting minister, who, though he bore the name, is not known to have inherited the bloodof the Yorkshire Ryders. Sir William Blackstone was the fourth son of asilkman and citizen of London. Lords Stowell and Eldon were the childrenof a provincial tradesman. The learned and good Sir Samuel Romilly'sfather was Peter Romilly, jeweller, of Frith Street, Soho. Such were theorigins of some of the men who won the prizes of the law incomparatively recent times. The present century has produced an evengreater number of barristers who have achieved eminence, and are able tosay with honest pride that they are the _first_ gentlemen mentioned intheir pedigrees; and so thoroughly has the bar become an openprofession, accessible to all persons[26] who have the means ofgentlemen, that no barrister at the present time would have the badtaste or foolish hardihood to express openly his regret that the membersof a liberal profession should no longer pay a hurtful attention toilliberal distinctions. 

According to Fortescue, the law-students belonging at the same time tothe Inns of Court and Chancery numbered _at least_ one thousand eighthundred in the fifteenth century; and it may be fairly inferred from hiswords that their number considerably exceeded two thousand. To each ofthe ten Inns of Chancery the author of the 'De Laudibus' assigns "anhundred students at the least, and to some of them a much greaternumber;" and he says that the least populous of the four Inns of Courtcontained "two hundred students or thereabouts. " At the present time thenumber of barristers--together with Fellows of the College of Advocates, and certificated special pleaders and conveyancers not at the bar--isshown by the Law List for 1866 to be somewhat more than 4800. [27] Evenwhen it is borne in mind how much the legal business of the whole nationhas necessarily increased with the growth of our commercialprosperity--it being at the same time remembered, upon the other hand, how many times the population of the country has doubled itself sincethe wars of the Roses--few persons will be of opinion that the legalprofession, either by the number of its practitioners or its command ofemployment, is a more conspicuous and prosperous power at the presenttime than it was in the fifteenth century. 

Ferne was by no means the only gentleman of Elizabethan London todeplore the rapid increase in the number of lawyers, and to regret thegrowing liberality which encouraged--or rather the national prosperitywhich enabled--men of inferior parentage to adopt the law as aprofession. In his address on Mr. Clerke's elevation to the dignity of asergeant, Lord Chancellor Hatton, echoing the common complaintconcerning the degradation of the law through the swarms of plebeianstudents and practitioners, observed--"Let not the dignitie of the lawebe geven to men unmeete. And I do exhorte you all that are heare presentnot to call men to the barre or the benches that are so unmeete. I findethat there are now more at the barre in one house than there was in allthe Innes of Court when I was a younge man. " Notwithstanding theChancellor's earnest statement of his personal recollection of the stateof things when he was a young man, there is reason to think that he wasquite in error in thinking that lawyers had increased so greatly innumber. From a MS. In Lord Burleigh's collection, it appears that in1586 the number of law-students, resident during term, was only 1703--asmaller number than that which Fortescue computed the entire populationof the London law-students, at a time when civil war had cruellydiminished the number of men likely to join an aristocratic university. Sir Edward Coke estimated the roll of Elizabethan law-students at onethousand, half their number in Fortescue's time. Coke, however, confinedhis attention in this matter to the Students of Inns of Court, and paidno attention to Inns of Chancery. Either Hatton greatly exaggerated theincrease of the legal working profession; or in previous times theproportion of law-students who never became barristers greatly exceededthose who were ultimately called to the bar. 

Something more than a hundred years later, the old cry against thelow-born adventurers, who, to the injury of the public and thedegradation of the law, were said to overwhelm counsellors andsolicitors of superior tone and pedigree, was still frequently heard inthe coteries of disappointed candidates for employment in WestminsterHall, and on the lips of men whose hopes of achieving social distinctionwere likely to be frustrated so long as plebeian learning and energywere permitted to have free action. In his 'History of Hertfordshire'(published in 1700), Sir Henry Chauncey, Sergeant-at-Law, exclaims: "Butnow these mechanicks, ambitious of rule and government, often educatetheir sons in these seminaries of law, whereby they overstock theprofession, and so make it contemptible; whilst the gentry, not sensibleof the mischief they draw upon themselves, but also upon the nation, prefer them in their business before their own children, whom theybereave of their employment, formerly designed for their support;qualifying their servants, by the profit of this profession, to purchasetheir estates, and by this means make them their lords and masters, whilst they lessen the trade of the kingdom, and cause a scarcity ofhusbandmen, workmen, artificers, and servants in the nation. "

That the Inns of Court became less and less aristocratic throughout theseventeenth and eighteenth centuries there is no reason to doubt; but itmay be questioned whether it was so overstocked with competent workingmembers, as poor Sir Henry Chauncey imagined it. Describing the state ofthe inns some two generations later, Blackstone computed the number oflaw-students at about a thousand, perhaps slightly more; and he observesthat in his time the merely _nominal_ law-students were comparativelyfew. "Wherefore, " he says, "few gentlemen now resort to the Inns ofCourt, but such for whom the knowledge of practice is absolutelynecessary; such, I mean, as are intended for the profession; the rest ofour gentry, (not to say our nobility also) having usually retired totheir estates, or visited foreign kingdoms, or entered upon public life, without any instruction in the laws of the land, and indeed with hardlyany opportunity of gaining instruction, unless it can be afforded tothem in the universities. "

The folly of those who lamented that men of plebeian rank were allowedto adopt the legal profession as a means of livelihood, was howeverexceeded by the folly of men of another sort, who endeavored to hide thehumble extractions of eminent lawyers, under the ingenious falsehoods offictitious pedigrees. In the last century, no sooner had a lawyer ofhumble birth risen to distinction, than he was pestered by fabricatorsof false genealogies, who implored him to accept their silly romancesabout his ancestry. In most cases, these ridiculous applicants hoped toreceive money for their dishonest representations; but not seldom ithappened that they were actuated by a sincere desire to protect theheraldic honor of the law from the aspersions of those who maintainedthat a man might fight his way to the woolsack, although his father hadbeen a tender of swine. Sometimes these imaginative chroniclers, notcontent with fabricating a genealogical chart for a _parvenu_ LordChancellor, insisted that he should permit them to write their lives insuch a fashion, that their earlier experiences should seem to be inharmony with their later fortunes. Lord Macclesfield (the son of a poorand ill-descended country attorney), was traced by officious adulatorsto Reginald Le Parker, who accompanied Edward I. , while Prince of Wales, to the Holy Land. In like manner a manufacturer of genealogies tracedLord Eldon to Sir Michael Scott of Balwearie. When one of this servileschool of worshippers approached Lord Thurlow with an assurance that hewas of kin with Cromwell's secretary Thurloe, the Chancellor, with bluffhonesty, responded, "Sir, as Mr. Secretary Thurloe was, like myself, aSuffolk man, you have an excuse for your mistake. In the seventeenthcentury two Thurlows, who were in no way related to each other, flourished in Suffolk. One was Cromwell's secretary Thurloe, the otherwas Thurlow, the Suffolk carrier. I am descended from the carrier. "Notwithstanding Lord Thurlow's frequent and consistent disavowals ofpretension to any heraldic pedigree, his collateral descendants arecredited in the 'Peerages' with a descent from an ancient family. 

[23] This charming book was written during the author's exile, whichbegan in 1463. 

[24] This passage is one of several passages in Pre-reformation Englishliterature which certify that the Bible was much more widely andcarefully read by lettered and studious layman, in times prior to therupture between England and Rome, than many persons are aware, and someviolent writers like to acknowledge. 

[25] Pathetically deploring the change wrought by time, Ferne alsoobserves of the Inns of Court, --"Pity to see the same places, throughthe malignity of the times, and the negligence of those which shouldhave had care to the same, been altered quite from their firstinstitution. "

[26] It is not unusual now-a-days to see on the screened list ofstudents about to be called to the bar the names of gentlemen who havecaused themselves to be described in the quasi-public lists as the sonsof tradesmen. Some few years since a gentleman who has already made hisname known amongst juniors, was thus 'screened'in the four halls as theson of a petty tradesman in an obscure quarter of London; and assumingthat his conduct was due to self-respect and affectionate regard for hisparent, it seemed to most observers that the young lawyer, in thusfrankly stating his lowly origin, acted with spirit and dignity. It maybe that years hence this highly-accomplished gentleman will, like LordTenterden and Lord St. Leonards (both of whom were the sons of honestbut humble tradesmen), see his name placed upon the roll of England'shereditary noblesse. 

[27] Of this number about 2500 reside in or near London and maintainsome apparent connexion with the Inns of Court. Of the remainder, somereside in Scotland, some in Ireland, some in the English provinces, somein the colonies; whilst some of them, although their names are still onthe Law List, have ceased to regard themselves as members of the legalprofession. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

LAW-FRENCH AND LAW-LATIN. 

No circumstances of the Norman Conquest more forcibly illustrate thehumiliation of the conquered people, than the measures by which theinvaders imposed their language on the public courts of the country, andendeavored to make it permanently usurp the place of the mother-tongueof the despised multitude; and no fact more signally displays ourconservative temper than the general reluctance of English society torelinquish the use of the French words and phrases which still tincturethe language of parliament, and the procedures of Westminster Hall, recalling to our minds the insolent domination of a few powerfulfamilies who occupied our country by force, and ruled our forefatherswith vigorous injustice. 

Frenchmen by birth, education, sympathy, William's barons did theirutmost to make England a new France: and for several generations thedescendants of the successful invaders were no less eager to abolishevery usage which could remind the vanquished race of their lostsupremacy. French became the language of parliament and thecouncil-chamber. It was spoken by the judges who dispensed justice inthe name of a French king, and by the lawyers who followed the royalcourt in the train of the French-speaking judges. In the hunting-fieldand the lists no gentleman entitled to bear coat-armour deigned to uttera word of English: it was the same in Fives' Court and at thegambling-table. Schoolmasters were ordered to teach their pupils toconstrue from Latin into French, instead of into English; and young menof Anglo-Saxon extraction, bent on rising in the world by native talentand Norman patronage, labored to acquire the language of the rulingclass and forget the accents of their ancestors. The language and usagesof modern England abound with traces of the French of this period. Toevery act that obtained the royal assent during last session ofparliament, the queen said "La reyne le veult. " Every bill which is sentup from the Commons to the Lords, an officer of the lower house endorseswith "Soit bailé aux Seigneurs;" and no bill is ever sent down from theLords to the Commons until a corresponding officer of the upper househas written on its back, "Soit bailé aux Communes. "

In like manner our parochial usages, local sports, and domestic gamescontinually remind us of the obstinate tenacity with which theAnglo-Saxon race has preserved, and still preserves, the vestiges of itsancient subjection to a foreign yoke. The crier of a country town, inany of England's fertile provinces, never proclaims the loss of ayeoman's sporting-dog, the auction of a bankrupt dealer'sstock-in-trade, or the impounding of a strayed cow, until he hascommanded, in Norman-French, the attention of the sleepy rustics. Thelanguage of the stable and the kennel is rich in traces of Normaninfluence; and in backgammon, as played by orthodox players, we have asuggestive memorial of those Norman nobles, of whom Fortescue, in the'De Laudibus' observes: "Neither had they delyght to hunt, and toexercise other sportes and pastimes, as dyce-play and the hand-ball, butin their own proper tongue. "

In behalf of the Norman _noblesse_ it should be borne in mind that theirpolicy in this matter was less intentionally vexatious and insolent thanit has appeared to superficial observers. In the great majority ofcauses the suitors were Frenchmen; and it was just as reasonable thatthey should like to understand the arguments of their counsel andjudges, as it is reasonable for suitors in the present day to requirethe proceedings in Westminster Hall to be clothed in the language mostfamiliar to the majority of persons seeking justice in its courts. Ifthe use of French pleadings was hard on the one Anglo-Saxon suitor whodemanded justice in Henry I. 's time, the use of English pleadings wouldhave been equally annoying to the nine French gentlemen who appeared forthe same purpose in the king's court. It was greatly to be desired thatthe two races should have one common language; and common sense ordainedthat the tongue of the one or the other race should be adopted as thenational language. Which side therefore was to be at the pains to learna new tongue? Should the conquerors labor to acquire Anglo-Saxon? orshould the conquered be required to learn French? In these days thecultivated Englishmen who hold India by military force, even as theNorman invaders held England, by the right of might, settle a similarquestion by taking upon themselves the trouble of learning as much ofthe Asiatic dialects as is necessary for purposes of business. But theNorman barons were not cultivated; and for many generations ignorancewas with them an affair of pride no less than of constitutionalinclination. 

Soon ambitious Englishmen acquired the new language, in order to use itas an instrument for personal advancement. The Saxon stripling who couldkeep accounts in Norman fashion, and speak French as fluently as hismother tongue, might hope to sell his knowledge in a good market. As thesteward of a Norman baron he might negotiate between my lord and mylord's tenants, letting my lord know as much of his tenant's wishes, andrevealing to the tenants as much of their lord's intentions as suitedhis purpose. Uniting in his own person the powers of interpreter, arbitrator, and steward, he possessed enviable opportunities andfacilities for acquiring wealth. Not seldom, when he had grown rich, orwhilst his fortunes were in the ascendant, he assumed a French name aswell as a French accent; and having persuaded himself and his youngerneighbors that he was a Frenchman, he in some cases bequeathed to hischildren an ample estate and a Norman pedigree. In certain causes in thelaw courts the agent (by whatever title known) who was a perfect masterof the three languages (French, Latin, and English) had greatly theadvantage over an opposing agent who could speak only French and Latin. 

From the Conquest till the latter half of the fourteenth century thepleadings in courts of justice were in Norman-French; but in the 36 Ed. III. , it was ordained by the king "that all plees, which be to be plededin any of his courts, before any of his justices; or in his otherplaces; or before any of his other ministers; or in the courts andplaces of any other lords within the realm, shall be pleded, shewed, anddefended, answered, debated, and judged in the English tongue, and thatthey be entred and enrolled in Latine. And that the laws and customs ofthe same realm, termes, and processes, be holden and kept as they be, and have been before this time; and that by the antient termes and formsof the declarations no man be prejudiced; so that the matter of theaction be fully shewed in the demonstration and in the writ. " Longbefore this wise measure of reform was obtained by the urgent wishes ofthe nation, the French of the law courts had become so corrupt andunlike the language of the invaders, that it was scarcely moreintelligible to educated natives of France than to most Englishmen ofthe highest rank. A jargon compounded of French and Latin, none saveprofessional lawyers could translate it with readiness or accuracy; andwhilst it unquestionably kept suitors in ignorance of their own affairs, there is reason to believe that it often perplexed the most skilful ofthose official interpreters who were never weary of extolling hislucidity and precision. 

But though English lawyers were thus expressly forbidden in 1362 toplead in Law-French, they persisted in using the hybrid jargon forreports and treatises so late as George II. 's reign; and for an equallength of time they seized every occasion to introduce scraps ofLaw-French into their speeches at the bars of the different courts. Itshould be observed that these antiquarian advocates were enabled thus todisplay their useless erudition by the provisions of King Edward's act, which, while it forbade French _pleadings_, specially ordained theretention of French terms. 

Roger North's essay 'On the study of the Laws' contains amusingtestimony to the affection with which the lawyers of his day regardedtheir Law-French, and also shows how largely it was used till the closeof the seventeenth century by the orators of Westminster Hall. "Here Imust stay to observe, " says the author, enthusiastically, "thenecessity of a student's early application to learn the old Law-French, for these books, and most others of considerable authority, aredelivered in it. Some may think that because the Law-French is no betterthan the old Norman corrupted, and now a deformed hotch-potch of theEnglish and Latin mixed together, it is not fit for a polite spark tofoul himself with; but this nicety is so desperate a mistake, thatlawyer and Law-French are coincident; one will not stand without theother. " So enamored was he of the grace and excellence of law-reporters'French, that he regarded it as a delightful study for a man of fashion, and maintained that no barrister would do justice to the law and theinterests of his clients who did not season his sentences with Normanverbiage. "The law, " he held, "is scarcely expressible properly inEnglish, and when it is done, it must be _Françoise_, or very uncouth. "

Edward III. 's measure prohibitory of French pleadings had thereforecomparatively little influence on the educational course oflaw-students. The published reports of trials, known by the name ofYear-Books, were composed in French, until the series terminated in thetime of Henry VIII. ; and so late as George II. 's reign, Chief BaronComyn preferred such words as 'chemin, ' 'dismes, ' and 'baron and feme, 'to such words as 'highway, ' 'tithes, ' 'husband and wife. ' More liberalthan the majority of his legal brethren, even as his enlightenment withregard to public affairs exceeded that of ordinary politicians of histime, Sir Edward Coke wrote his commentaries in English, but when hepublished them, he felt it right to soothe the alarm of lawyers byassuring them that his departure from ancient usage could have nodisastrous consequences. "I cannot conjecture, " he apologeticallyobserves in his preface, "that the general communicating these laws inthe English tongue can work any inconvenience. "

Some of the primary text-books of legal lore had been rendered intoEnglish, and some most valuable treatises had been written and publishedin the mother tongue of the country; but in the seventeenth century noInns-of-Court man could acquire an adequate acquaintance with the usagesand rules of our courts and the decisions of past judges, until he wasable to study the Year-Books and read Littleton in the original. Toacquire this singular language--a _dead_ tongue that cannot be said tohave ever lived--was the first object of the law-student. He worked atit in his chamber, and with faltering and uncertain accents essayed tospeak it at the periodic mootings in which he was required to take partbefore he could be called to the bar, and also after he had become anutter-barrister. In his 'Autobiography, ' Sir Simonds D'Ewes makesmention in several places of his Law-French exercises (_temp. _ JamesI. ), and in one place of his personal story he observes, "I had twicemooted in Law-French before I was called to the bar, and several timesafter I was made an utter-barrister, in our open hall. Thrice alsobefore I was of the bar, I argued the reader's cases at the Inns ofChancery publicly, and six times afterwards. And then also, being anutter-barrister, I had twice argued our Middle-Temple reader's case atthe cupboard, and sat nine times in our hall at the bench, and arguedsuch cases in English as had before been argued by young gentlemen orutter-barristers in Law-French bareheaded. "

Amongst the excellent changes by which the more enlightened of theCommonwealth lawyers sought to lessen the public clamor of law-reformwas the resolution that all legal records should be kept, and all writscomposed, in the language of the country. Hitherto the law records hadbeen kept in a Latin that was quite as barbarous as the French used bythe reporters; and the determination to abolish a custom which servedonly to obscure the operations of justice and to confound the illiteratewas hailed by the more intelligent purchasers of law as a notable stepin the right direction. But the reform was by no means acceptable to themajority of the bar, who did not hesitate to stigmatize the measure as adangerous innovation--which would prove injurious to learned lawyers andpeace-loving citizens, although it might possibly serve the purposes ofignorant counsel and litigious 'lay gents. '[28]The legal literature ofthree generations following Charles I. 's execution abounds withcontemptuous allusions to the 'English times' of Cromwell; theold-fashioned reporters, hugging their Norman-French and looking withsuspicion on popular intelligence, were vehement in expressing theircontempt for the prevalent misuse of the mother tongue. "I have, "observes Styles, in the preface to his reports, "made these reportsspeak English; not that I believe that they will be thereby moregenerally useful, for I have always been and yet am of opinion, thatthat part of the Common Law which is in the English hath only occasionedthe making of unquiet spirits contentiously knowing, and more apt tooffend others than to defend themselves; but I have done it in obedienceto authority, and to stop the mouths of such of this English age, who, though they be confessedly different in their minds and judgments, asthe builders of Babel were in their language, yet do think it vain, ifnot impious, to speak or understand more than their own mother tongue. "In like manner, Whitelock's uncle Bulstrode, the celebrated reporter, says of the second part of his reports, "that he had manny years sinceperfected the words in French, in which language he had desired itmight have seen the light, being most proper for it, and most convenientfor the professors of the law. "

The restorers who raised Charles II. To his father's throne, lost notime in recalling Latin to the records and writs; and so gladly did thereporters and the practising counsel avail themselves of the reaction infavor of discarded usages, that more Law-French was written and talkedin Westminster Hall during the time of the restored king, than had beenpenned and spoken throughout the first fifty years of the seventeenthcentury. 

The vexatious and indescribably absurd use of Law-Latin in records, writs, and written pleadings, was finally put an end to by statute 4George II. C. 26; but this bill, which discarded for legal processes acumbrous and harsh language, that was alike unmusical and inexact, andwould have been utterly unintelligible to a Roman gentleman of theAugustan period, did not become law without much opposition from some ofthe authorities of Westminster Hall. Lord Raymond, Chief Justice of theKing's Bench, spoke in accordance with opinions that had many supporterson the bench and at the bar, when he expressed his warm disapprobationof the proposed measure, and sarcastically observed "that if the billpaused, the law might likewise be translated into Welsh, since many inWales understood not English. " In the same spirit Sir Willian Blackstoneand more recent authorities have lamented the loss of Law-Latin. LordCampbell, in the 'Chancellors, ' records that he "heard the late LordEllenborough from the bench regret the change, on the ground that it hadhad the tendency to make attorneys illiterate. "

The sneer by which Lord Raymond endeavored to cast discredit on theproposal to abolish Law-Latin, was recalled after the lapse of manyyears by Sergeant Heywood, who forthwith acted upon it as though itoriginated in serious thought. Whilst acting as Chief Justice of theCarmarthen Circuit, the sergeant was presiding over a trial of murder, when it was discovered that neither the prisoner, nor any member of thejury, could understand a word of English; under these circumstances itwas suggested that the evidence and the charge should be explained_verbatim_, to the prisoner and his twelve triers by an interpreter. Tothis reasonable petition that the testimony should be presented in aWelsh dress, the judge replied that, "to accede to the request would beto repeal the act of parliament, which required that all proceedings incourts of justice should be in the English tongue, and that the case ofa trial in Wales, in which the prisoner and jury should not understandEnglish, was a case not provided for, although the attention of thelegislature had been called to it by that great judge Lord Raymond. " Thejudge having thus decided, the inquiry proceeded--without the help of aninterpreter--the counsel for the prosecution favoring the jury with aneloquent harangue, no single sentence of which was intelligible to them;a series of witnesses proving to English auditors, beyond reach ofdoubt, that the prisoner had deliberately murdered his wife; and finallythe judge instructing the jury, in language which was as insignificantto their minds as the same quantity of obsolete Law-French would havebeen, that it was their duty to return a verdict of 'Guilty. ' Throwingthemselves into the humor of the business, the Welsh jurymen, althoughthey were quite familiar with the facts of the case, acquitted themurderer, much to the encouragement of many wretched Welsh husbandsanxious for a termination of their matrimonial sufferings. 

[28] In the seventeenth century, lawyers usually called their clientsand the non-legal public 'Lay Gents. '

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

STUDENT LIFE IN OLD TIME. 

From statements made in previous chapters, it may be seen that inancient times the Law University was a far more conspicuous feature ofthe metropolis than it has been in more modern generations. In thefifteenth century the law students of the town numbered about twothousand; in Elizabethan London their number fluctuated between onethousand and two thousand; towards the close of Charles II. 's reign theywere probably much less than fifteen hundred; in the middle of theeighteenth century they do not seem to have much exceeded one thousand. Thus at a time when the entire population of the capital wasconsiderably less than the population of a third-rate provincial town ofmodern England, the Inns of Court and Chancery contained moreundergraduates than would be found on the books of the Oxford Collegesat the present time. 

Henry VIII. 's London looked to the University for mirth, news, trade. During vacations there was but little stir in the taverns and shops ofFleet Street; haberdashers and vintners sate idle; musicians starved;and the streets of the capital were comparatively empty when thestudents had withdrawn to spend their holidays in the country. As soonas the gentlemen of the robe returned to town all was brisk and merryagain. As the town grew in extent and population, the social influenceof the university gradually decreased; but in Elizabethan London the_éclat_ of the inns was at its brightest, and during the reigns ofElizabeth's two nearest successors London submitted to the Inns-of-Courtmen as arbiters of all matters pertaining to taste--copying their dress, slang, amusements, and vices. The same may be said, with less emphasis, of Charles II. 's London. Under the 'Merry Monarch' theatrical managerswere especially anxious to please the inns, for they knew that no playwould succeed which the lawyers had resolved to damn--that no actorcould achieve popularity if the gallants of the Temple combined to laughhim down--that no company of performers could retain public favor whenthey had lost the countenance of law-colleges. Something of this powerthe young lawyers retained beyond the middle of the last century. Fielding and Addison caught with nervous eagerness the critical gossipof the Temple and Chancery Lane, just as Congreve and Wycherly, Drydenand Cowley had caught it in previous generations. Fashionable tradesmenand caterers for the amusement of the public made their engagements andspeculations with reference to the opening of term. New plays, newbooks, new toys were never offered for the first time to Londonpurchasers when the lawyers were away. All that the 'season' is tomodern London, the 'term' was to old London, from the accession of HenryVIII. To the death of George II. , and many of the existing commercialand fashionable arrangements of a London 'season' maybe traced to theold-world 'term. '

In olden time the influence of the law-colleges was as great uponpolitics as upon fashion. Sheltering members of every powerful family inthe country they were centres of political agitation, and places for thesecret discussion of public affairs. Whatever plot was in course ofincubation, the inns invariably harbored persons who were cognisant ofthe conspiracy. When faction decided on open rebellion or hiddentreason, the agents of the malcontent leaders gathered together in theinns, where, so long as they did not rouse the suspicions of theauthorities and maintained the bearing of studious men, they could hireassassins, plan risings, hold interviews with fellow-conspirators, andnurse their nefarious projects into achievement. At periods of dangertherefore spies were set to watch the gates of the hostels, and mark whoentered them. Governments took great pains to ascertain the secret lifeof the collegians. A succession of royal directions for the disciplineof the inns under the Tudors and Stuarts points to the jealousy andconstant apprehensions with which the sovereigns of England longregarded those convenient lurking-places for restless spirits anddangerous adversaries. Just as the Student-quarter of Paris is stillwatched by a vigilant police, so the Inns of Court were closely watchedby the agents of Wolsey and Thomas Cromwell, of Burleigh and Buckingham. During the troubles and contentions of Elizabeth's reign Lord Burleighwas regularly informed concerning the life of the inns, the number ofstudents in and out of town, the parentage and demeanor of new members, the gossip of the halls, and the rumors of the cloisters. In proportionas the political temper and action of the lawyers were deemed matters ofhigh importance, their political indiscretions and misdemeanors werepromptly and sometimes ferociously punished. An idle joke over a pot ofwine sometimes cost a witty barrister his social rank and his ears. Topromote a wholesome fear of authority in the colleges, government everynow and then flogged a student at the cart's tail in Holborn, orpilloried a sad apprentice of the law in Chancery Lane, or hung anancient on a gibbet at the entrance of his inn. 

The anecdote-books abound with good stories that illustrate thepolitical excitability of the inns in past times, and the energy withwhich ministers were wont to repress the first manifestations ofinsubordination. Rushworth records the adventure of four young men ofLincoln's Inn who throw aside prudence and sobriety in a tavern hard bytheir inn, and drank to "the confusion of the Archbishop of Canterbury. "The next day, full of penitence and head-ache, the offenders werebrought before the council, and called to account for their scandalousconduct; when they would have fared ill had not the Earl of Dorset donethem good service, and privately instructed them to say in theirdefence, that they had not drunk confusion to the archbishop but to thearchbishop's _foes_. On this ingenious representation, the councilsupposed that the drawer--on whose information the proceedings weretaken--had failed to catch the last word of the toast; and consequentlythe young gentlemen were dismissed with a 'light admonition, ' much totheir own surprise and the informer's chagrin. 

Of the political explosiveness of the inns in Charles II. 's timeNarcissus Luttrell gives the following illustration in his diary, underdate June 15 and 16, 1681:--"The 15th was a project sett on foot inGrayes Inn for the carrying on an addresse for thankes to his majestiefor his late declaration; and was moved that day in the hall by some atdinner, and being (as is usual) sent to the barre messe to be by themrecommended to the bench, but was rejected both by bench and barr; butthe other side seeing they could doe no good this way, they gott aboutforty together and went to the tavern, and there subscribed the saidaddresse in the name of the truelye loyall gentlemen of Grayes Inn. Thechief sticklers for the said addition were Sir William Seroggs, Jun. , Robert Fairebeard, Capt. Stowe, Capt. Radcliffe, one Yalden, withothers, to the number of 40 or thereabouts; many of them sharpers abouttown, with clerks not out of their time, and young men newly come fromthe university. And some of them went the 17th to Windsor, and presentedthe said addresse to his majesty: who was pleasd to give them histhanks and confer (it is said) knighthood on the said Mr. Fairebeard;this proves a mistake since. The 16th was much such another addressecarried on in the Middle Temple, where several Templars, meeting aboutone or two that afternoon in the hall for that purpose, they began todebate it, but they were opposed till the hall began to fill; and thenthe addressers called for Mr. Montague to take the chaire; on which apoll was demanded, but the addressers refused it, and carried Mr. Montague and sett him in the chaire, and the other part pulled him out, on which high words grew, and some blows were given; but the addressersseeing they could doe no good with it in the hall, adjourned to theDivill Tavern, and there signed the addresse; the other party kept inthe hall, and fell to protesting against such illegall and arbitraryproceedings, subscribing their names to a greater number than theaddressers were, and presented the same to the bench as a grievance. "

Like the King's Head Tavern, which stood in Chancery Lane, the DevilTavern, in Fleet Street, was a favorite house with the Caroline Lawyers. Its proximity to the Temple secured the special patronage of thetemplars, whereas the King's Head was more frequented by Lincoln's-Innmen; and in the tavern-haunting days of the seventeenth century thosetwo places of entertainment saw many a wild and dissolute scene. UnlikeChattelin, who endeavored to satisfy his guests with delicate repastsand light wines, the hosts of the Devil and the King's Head provided themore substantial fare of old England, and laid themselves out to pleaseroysterers who liked pots of ale in the morning, and were wont to drinkbrandy by the pint as the clocks struck midnight. Nando's, the housewhere Thurlow in his student-period used to hold nightly disputationswith all comers of suitable social rank, was an orderly place incomparison with these more venerable hostelries; and though the Mitre, Cock, and Rainbow have witnessed a good deal of deep drinking, it may bequestioned if they, or any other ancient taverns of the legal quarter, encouraged a more boisterous and reckless revelry than that whichconstituted the ordinary course of business at the King's Head and theDevil. 

In his notes for Jan. 1681-2, Mr. Narcissus Luttrell observes--"The13th, at night, some young gentlemen of the Temple went to the King'sHead Tavern, Chancery Lane, committing strange outrages there, breakingwindowes, &c. , which the watch hearing of came to disperse them; butthey sending for severall of the watermen with halberts that attendtheir comptroller of the revells, were engaged in a desperate riott, inwhich one of the watchmen was run into the body and lies very ill; butthe watchmen secured one or two of the watermen. " Eleven years later thediarist records: "Jan. 5. One Batsill, a young gentleman of the Temple, was committed to Newgate for wounding a captain at the Devil Tavern inFleet Street on Saturday last. " Such ebullitions of manlyspirit--ebullitions pleasant enough to the humorist, but occasionallyproductive of very disagreeable and embarrassing consequences--were notuncommon in the neighborhood of the Inns of Court whilst the Christmasrevels were in progress. 

A tempestuous, hot-blooded, irascible set were these gentlemen of thelaw-colleges, more zealous for their own honor than careful for thefeelings of their neighbors. Alternately warring with sharp tongues, sharp pens, and sharp swords they went on losing their tempers, friends, and lives in the most gallant and picturesque manner imaginable. Here isa nice little row which occurred in the Middle Temple Hall during thedays of good Queen Bess! "The records of the society, " says Mr. Foss, "preserve an account of the expulsion of a member, which is renderedpeculiarly interesting in consequence of the eminence to which thedelinquent afterwards attained as a statesman, a poet, and a lawyer. Whilst the masters of the bench and other members of the society weresitting quietly at dinner on February 9, 1597-8, John Davis came intothe hall with his hat on his head, and attended by two persons armedwith swords, and going up to the barrister's table, where Richard Martinwas sitting, he pulled out from under his gown a cudgel 'quem vulgaritervocant a bastinado, ' and struck him over the head repeatedly, and withso much violence that the bastinado was shivered into many pieces. Thenretiring to the bottom of the hall, he drew one of his attendants'swords and flourished it over his head, turning his face towards Martin, and then turning away down the water steps of the Temple, threw himselfinto a boat. For this outrageous act he was immediately disbarred andexpelled the house, and deprived for ever of all authority to speak orconsult in law. After nearly four years' retirement he petitioned thebenchers for his restoration, which they accorded on October 30, 1601, upon his making a public submission in the hall, and asking pardon ofMr. Martin, who at once generously forgave him. " Both the principals inthis scandalous outbreak and subsequent reconciliation became honorablyknown in their profession--Martin rising to be a Recorder of London anda member of parliament; and Davies acting as Attorney General of Irelandand Speaker of the Irish parliament, and achieving such a status inpolitics and law that he was appointed to the Chief Justiceship ofEngland, an office, however, which sudden death prevented him fromfilling. 

Nor must it be imagined that gay manners and lax morals were lessgeneral amongst the veterans than amongst the youngsters of the bar. Judges and sergeants were quite as prone to levity and godless riot asstudents about to be called; and such was the freedom permitted byprofessional decorum that leading advocates habitually met their clientsin taverns, and having talked themselves dry at the bars of WestminsterHall, drank themselves speechless at the bars of Strand taverns--erethey reeled again into their chambers. The same habits of uproariousself-indulgence were in vogue with the benchers of the inns, and theDoctors of Doctors' Commons. Hale's austerity was the exceptionaldemeanor of a pious man protesting against the wickedness of an impiousage. Had it not been for the shortness of time that had elapsed sinceAlgernon Sidney's trial and sentence, John Evelyn would have seen noreason for censuring the loud hilarity and drunkenness of Jeffreys andWithings at Mrs. Castle's wedding. 

In some respects, however, the social atmosphere of the inns was farmore wholesome in the days of Elizabeth, and for the hundred yearsfollowing her reign, than it is at present. Sprung in most cases fromlegal families, the students who were educated to be working members ofthe bar lived much more under the observation of their older relations, and in closer intercourse with their mothers and sisters than they do atpresent. Now-a-days young Templars, fresh from the universities, wouldbe uneasy and irritable under strict domestic control; and as men withbeards and five-and-twenty years' knowledge of the world, they wouldresent any attempt to draw them within the lines of domestic control. But in Elizabethan and also in Stuart London, law-students wereconsiderably younger than they are under Victoria. 

Moreover, the usage of the period trained young men to submit withcheerfulness to a parental discipline that would be deemed intolerableby our own youngsters. During the first terms of their eight, seven, orat least six years of pupilage, until they could secure quarters withincollege walls, students frequently lodged in the houses or chambers ofnear relations who were established in the immediate vicinity of theinns. A judge with a house in Fleet Street, an eminent counsel with afamily mansion in Holborn, or an office-holder with commodious chambersin Chancery Lane, usually numbered amongst the members of his family ason, or nephew, or cousin who was keeping terms for the bar. Thus placedunder the immediate superintendence of an elder whom he regarded withaffection and pride, and surrounded by the wholesome interests of arefined domestic circle, the raw student was preserved from much follyand ill-doing into which he would have fallen had he been thrownentirely on his own resources for amusement. 

The pecuniary means of Inns-of-Court students have not varied muchthroughout the last twelve generations. In days when money was scarceand very precious they of course lived on a smaller number of coins thanthey require in these days when gold and silver are comparativelyabundant and cheap; but it is reasonable to suppose that in every periodthe allowances, on which the less affluent of them subsisted, representthe amounts on which young men of their respective times were just ableto maintain the figure and style of independent gentlemen. The costlypageants and feasts of the inns in old days must not be taken asindicative of the pecuniary resources of the common run of students; forthe splendor of those entertainments was mainly due to the munificenceof those more wealthy members who by a liberal and even profuseexpenditure purchased a right to control the diversions of the colleges. Fortescue, speaking of his own time, says: "There can no student beemayntayned for lesse expenses by the yeare than twentye markes. And ifhee haue a seruant to waite uppon him, as most of them haue, then somuch the greater will his charges bee. " Hence it appears that during themost patrician period of the law university, when wealthy persons wereaccustomed to maintain ostentatious retinues of servants, a law-studentoften had no private personal attendant. An ordinance shows that inElizabethan London the Inns-of-Court men were waited upon by laundressesor bedmakers who served and took wages from several masters at the sametime. It would be interesting to ascertain the exact time when the"laundress" was first introduced into the Temple. She certainlyflourished in the days of Queen Bess; and Roger North's piquantdescription of his brother's laundress is applicable to many of hersuccessors who are looking after their perquisites at the present date. "The housekeeper, " says Roger, "had been formerly his lordship'slaundress at the Temple, and knew well her master's brother so early aswhen he was at the writing-school. She _was a phthisical old woman, andcould scarce crawl upstairs once a day_. " This general employment ofservants who were common to several masters would alone prove that theInns-of-Court men in the seventeenth century felt it convenient tohusband their resources, and exercise economy. Throughout that centurysixty pounds was deemed a sufficient income for a Temple student; andthough it was a scant allowance, some young fellows managed to push onwith a still more modest revenue. Simonds D'Ewes had £60 per annumduring his student course, and £100 a year on becoming anutter-barrister. "It pleased God also in mercy, " he writes, "after thisto ease me of that continual want or short stipend I had for about fiveyears last past groaned under; for my father, immediately on my call tothe bar, enlarged my former allowance with forty pounds more annually;so as, after this plentiful annuity of one hundred pounds was duly andquarterly paid me by him, I found myself easyd of so many cares anddiscontents as I may well account that the 27th day of June foregoingthe first day of my outward happiness since the decease of my dearestmother. " All things considered, a bachelor in James I. 's London with aclear income of £100 per annum was on the whole as well off for his timeas a young barrister of the present day would be with an annualallowance of £250 or £300. Francis North, when a student, was allowedonly £60 per annum; and as soon as he was called and began to earn alittle money, his parsimonious father reduced the stipend by £10; but, adds Roger North, "to do right to his good father, he paid him thatfifty pounds a year as long as he lived, saying he would not discourageindustry by rewarding it, when successful, with less. " George Jeffreys, in his student-days, smarted under a still more galling penury, for hewas allowed only £50 a year, £10 being for his clothes, and £40 for therest of his expenditure. In the following century the nominal incomes oflaw-students rose in proportion as the wealth of the country increasedand the currency fell in value. In George II. 's time a young Templarexpected his father to allow him £150 a year, and on encouragement wouldspend twice that amount in the same time. Henry Fielding's allowancefrom General Fielding was £200 per annum; but as he said, with a laugh, he had too feeling and dutiful a nature to press an affectionate fatherfor money which he was totally unable to pay. At the present time £150per annum is about the smallest sum on which a law-student can live withoutward decency; and £250 per annum the lowest amount on which a chamberbarrister can live with suitable dignity and comfort. If he has tomaintain the expenses of a distant circuit Mr. Briefless requires from£100 to £200 more. Alas! how many of Mr. Briefless's meritorious andmost ornamental kind are compelled to shift on far less ample means!How many of them periodically repeat the jest of poor A----, who madethis brief and suggestive official return to the Income TaxCommissioners--"I am totally dependent on my father, who allowsme--nothing!"

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

READERS AND MOOTMEN. 

Romantic eulogists of the Inns of Court maintain that, as an instrumentof education, the law-university was nearly perfect for many generationsafter its consolidation. That in modern time abuses have impaired itsfaculties and diminished its usefulness they admit. Some of them arecandid enough to allow that, as a school for the systematic study oflaw, it is under existing circumstances a deplorably deficient machine;but they unite in declaring that there _was_ a time when the system ofthe combined Colleges was complete and thoroughly efficacious. The morecautious of these eulogists decline to state the exact limits of theperiod when the actual condition of the university merited their cordialapproval, but they concur in pointing to the years between the accessionof Henry VII. And the death of James I. , as comprising the brightestdays of its academical vigor and renown. 

It is however worthy of observation that throughout the times when thelegal learning and discipline of the colleges are described to have beenadmirable, the system and the students by no means won the approbationof those critical authorities who were best able to see their failingsand merits. Wolsey was so strongly impressed by the faulty education ofthe barristers who practised before him, and more especially by theirtotal ignorance of the principles of jurisprudence, that he prepared aplan for a new university which should be established in London, andshould impart a liberal and exact knowledge of law. Had he lived tocarry out his scheme it is most probable that the Inns of Court andChancery would have become subsidiary and subordinate establishments tothe new foundation. In this matter, sympathizing with the moreenlightened minds of his age, Sir Nicholas Bacon was no less desirousthan the great cardinal that a new law university should be planted intown, and he urged on Henry VIII. The propriety of devoting a certainportion of the confiscated church property to the foundation andendowment of such an institution. 

On paper the scheme of the old exercises and degrees looks veryimposing, and those who delight in painting fancy pictures may inferfrom them that the scholastic order of the colleges was perfect. Beforea young man could be called to the bar, he had under ordinarycircumstances to spend seven or eight years in arguing cases at the Innsof Chancery, in proving his knowledge of law and Law-French at moots, insharpening his wits at case-putting, in patient study of the Year-Books, and in watching the trials of Westminster Hall. After his call he wasrequired to spend another period in study and academic exercise beforehe presumed to raise his voice at the bar; and in his progress to thehighest rank of his profession he was expected to labor in educating thestudents of his house as assistant-reader, single-reader, double-reader. The gravest lawyers of every inn were bound to aid in the task ofteaching the mysteries of the law to the rising generation. 

The old ordinances assumed that the law-student was thirsting for aknowledge of law, and that the veterans were no less eager to impartit. During term law was talked in hall at dinner and supper, and afterthese meals the collegians argued points. "The cases were put" after theearlier repast, and twice or thrice a week moots were "brought in" afterthe later meal. The students were also encouraged to assemble towardsthe close of each day and practise 'case-putting' in their gardens andin the cloisters of the Temple or Lincoln's Inn. The 'great fire' of1678-9 having destroyed the Temple Cloisters, some of the benchersproposed to erect chambers on the ground, to and fro upon whichlaw-students had for generations walked whilst they wrangled aloud; butthe Earl of Nottingham, recalling the days when young Heneage Finch usedto put cases with his contemporary students, strangled the proposal atits birth, and Sir Christopher Wren subsequently built the Cloisterswhich may be seen at the present day. 

But there is reason to fear that at a very early period in their historythe Inns of Court began to pay more attention to certain outward formsof instruction than to instruction itself. The unbiassed inquirer isdriven to suspect that 'case-putting' soon became an idle ceremony, and'mooting' a mere pastime. Gentlemen ate heartily in the sixteenth andseventeenth centuries; and it is not easy to believe that immediatelyafter a twelve o'clock dinner benchers were in the best possible mood toteach, or students in the fittest condition for learning. It is crediblethat these post-prandial exercitations were often enlivened by sparklingquips and droll occurrences; but it is less easy to believe that theywere characterised by severe thought and logical exactness. So also withthe after-supper exercises. The six o'clock suppers of the lawyers wereno light repasts, but hearty meals of meat and bread, washed down by'_green pots_' of ale and wine. When 'the horn' sounded for supper, thestudent was in most cases better able to see the truth of knotty pointsthan when in compliance with etiquette he bowed to the benchers, andasked if it was their pleasure to hear a moot. It seems probable thatlong before 'case-puttings' and 'mootings' were altogether disused, theold benchers were wont to wink mischievously at each other when theyprepared to teach the boys, and that sometimes they would turn away fromthe proceedings of a moot with an air of disdain or indifference. Theinquirer is not induced to rate more highly the intellectual effort ofsuch exercises because the teachers refreshed their exhausted powerswith bread and beer as soon as the arguments were closed. 

When such men as Coke and Francis Bacon were the readers, the studentswere entertained with lectures of surpassing excellence; but it wasseldom that such readers could be found. It seems also that at an earlyperiod men became readers, not because they had any especial aptitudefor offices of instruction, or because they had some especial fund ofinformation--but simply because it was their turn to read. Routineplaced them in the pulpit for a certain number of weeks; and when theyhad done all that routine required of them, and had thereby qualifiedthemselves for promotion to the rank of sergeant, they took their seatsamongst the benchers and ancients with the resolution not to troublethemselves again about the intellectual progress of the boys. 

Soon also the chief teacher of an Inn of Court became its chief feasterand principal entertainer; and in like manner his subordinates inoffice, such as assistant readers and readers elect, were required toput their hands into their pockets, and feed their pupils with venisonand wine as well as with law and equity. It is amusing to observe howlittle Dugdale has to say about the professional duties of readers--andhow much about their hospitable functions and responsibilities. Philipand Mary ordered that no reader of the Middle Temple should give awaymore than fifteen bucks during his readings; but so greatly did the costof readers' entertainments increase in the following century, thatDugdale observes--"But the times are altered; there being few summerreaders who, in half the time that heretofore a reading was wont tocontinue, spent so little as threescore bucks, besides red deer; somehave spent fourscore, some an hundred. "

Just as readers were required to spend more in hospitality, they wererequired to display less learning. Sound lawyers avoided election to thereaders' chairs, leaving them to be filled by rich men who could affordto feast the nobility and gentry, or at least by men who were willing topurchase social _éclat_ with a lavish outlay of money. Under Charles II. The 'readings' were too often nothing better than scandalous exhibitionsof mental incapacity: and having sunk into disrepute, they died outbefore the accession of James II. 

The scandalous and beastly disorder of the Grand Day Feasts at theMiddle Temple, during Francis North's tenure of the reader's office, wasone of the causes that led to the discontinuance of Reader's Banquets atthat house; and the other inns gladly followed the example of the MiddleTemple in putting an end to a custom which had ceased to promote thedignity of the law. Of this feast, and his brother's part in it, RogerNorth says: "He (_i. E. _ Francis North) sent out the officers with whitestaves (for so the way was) and a long list to invite; but he wenthimself to wait upon the Archbishop of Canterbury, Sheldon; for so alsothe ceremony required. The archbishop received him very honorably andwould not part with him at the stairshead, as usually had been done;but, telling him he was no ordinary reader, went down, and did not parttill he saw him past at his outward gate I cannot much commend theextravagance of the feasting used at these readings; and that of hislordship's was so terrible an example, that I think none hath venturedsince to read publicly; but the exercise is turned into a revenue, and acomposition is paid into the treasury of the society. Therefore one maysay, as was said of Cleomenes, that, in this respect, his lordship was_ultimus herorum_, the last of the heroes. And the profusion of the bestprovisions, and wine, was to the worst of purposes--debauchery, disorder, tumult, and waste. I will give but one instance; upon thegrand day, as it was called, a banquet was provided to be set upon thetable, composed of pyramids, and smaller services in form. The firstpyramid was at least four feet high, with stages one above another. Theconveying this up to the table, through a crowd, that were in fullpurpose to overturn it, was no small work: but, with the friendlyassistance of the gentlemen, it was set whole upon the table. But, afterit was looked upon a little, all went, hand over hand, among the rout inthe hall, and for the most part was trod under foot. The entertainmentthe nobility had out of this was, after they had tossed away the dishes, a view of the crowd in confusion, wallowing one over another, andcontending for a dirty share of it. "

It would, however, be unfair to the ancient exercises of 'case-putting'and 'mooting' not to bear in mind that by habituating successfulbarristers to take personal interest in the professional capabilities ofstudents, they helped to maintain a salutary intercourse betwixt theyounger and older members of the profession. So long as 'moots' lasted, it was the fashion with eminent counsel to accost students inWestminster Hall, and gossip with them about legal matters. In CharlesII. 's time, such eminent barristers as Sir Geoffrey Palmer daily gavepractical hints and valuable suggestions to students who courted theirfavor; find accurate legal scholars, such as old 'Index Waller, ' would, under judicious treatment, exhibit their learning to boys ambitious offollowing in their steps. Chief Justice Saunders, during the days of hispre-eminence at the bar, never walked through Westminster Hall without atrain of lads at his heels. "I have seen him, " says Roger North, "forhours and half-hours together, before the court sat, stand at the bar, with an audience of students over against him, putting of cases, anddebating so as suited their capacities, and encouraged their industry. And so in the Temple, he seldom moved without a parcel of youths hangingabout him, and he merry and jesting with them. "

Long after 'moots' had fallen into disuse, their influence in thisrespect was visible in the readiness of wigged veterans to extend akindly and useful patronage to students. Even so late as the close ofthe last century, great black-letter lawyers used to accost students inWestminster Hall, and give them fair words, in a manner that would bemisunderstood in the present day. Sergeant Hill--whose reputation forrecondite legal erudition, resembled that of '_Index_ Waller, ' orMaynard, in the seventeenth century--once accosted John Scott, as thelatter, in his student days, was crossing Westminster Hall. "Pray, younggentleman, " said the black-letter lawyer, "do you think herbage andpannage rateable to the poor's rate?" "Sir, " answered the future LordEldon, with a courteous bow to the lawyer, whom he knew only by sight, "I cannot presume to give any opinion, inexperienced and unlearned as Iam, to a person of your great knowledge, and high character in theprofession. " "Upon my word, " replied the sergeant, eyeing the young manwith unaffected delight, "you are a pretty sensible young gentleman; Idon't often meet with such. If I had asked Mr. Burgess, a young man uponour circuit, the question, he would have told me that I was an oldfool. You are an extraordinary sensible young gentleman. "

The period when 'readings, ' 'mooting, ' and 'case-putting' fell intodisuse or contempt, is known with sufficient accuracy. Having noticedthe decay of readings, Sir John Bramston writes, in Charles II. 's reign, "At this tyme readings are totally in all the Inns of Court layd aside;and to speak truth, with great reason, for it was a step at once to thedignity of a sergeant, but not soe now. " Marking the time when mootsbecame farcical forms, Roger North having stated that his brotherFrancis, when a student, was "an attendant (as well as exerciser) at theordinary moots in the Middle Temple and at New Inn, " goes on to say, "Inthose days, the moots were carefully performed, and it is hard to give agood reason (bad ones are prompt enough) why they are not so now. " Butit should be observed, that though for all practical purposes 'moots'and 'case-puttings' ceased in Charles II. 's time, they were not formallyabolished. Indeed, they lingered on throughout the eighteenth century, and to the present time--when vestiges of them may still be observed inthe usages and discipline of the Inns. Before the writer of this pagewas called to the bar by the Masters of the Society of Lincoln's Inn, he, like all other students of his time, had to go through the form ofputting a case on certain days in the hall after dinner. The ceremonyappeared to him alike ludicrous and interesting. To put his case, he wasconducted by the steward of the inn to the top of the senior bar table, when the steward placed an open MS. Book before him, and said, "Readthat, sir;" whereupon this deponent read aloud something about "a femmesole, " or some such thing, and was still reading the rest of the MS. , kindly opened under his nose by the steward, when that worthy officerchecked him suddenly, saying, "That will do, sir; you have _put_ yourcase--and can sign the book. " The book duly signed, this deponent bowedto the assembled barristers, and walked out of the hall, smiling as hethought how, by an ingenious fiction, he was credited with having put anelaborate case to a college of profound jurists, with having argued itbefore an attentive audience, and with having borne away the laurels oftriumph. Recently this pleasant mockery of case-putting has been sweptaway. 

In Roger North's 'Discourse on the Study of the Laws, ' and 'Life of theLord Keeper Guildford, ' the reader may see with clearness the course ofan industrious law-student during the latter half of the seventeenthcentury, and it differs less from the ordinary career of an industriousTemple-student in our time, than many recent writers on the subjectthink. 

Under Charles II. , James II. , and William III. The law-student wascompelled to muster the barbarous Law-French; but the books which he wasrequired to read were few in comparison with those of a modernInns-of-Court man. Roger North mentions between twenty and thirtyauthors, which the student should read in addition to Year-Books andmore recent reports; and it is clear that the man who knew with anydegree of familiarity such a body of legal literature was a very eruditelawyer two hundred years since. But the student was advised to read thissmall library again and again, "common-placing" the contents of itsvolumes, and also "common-placing" all new legal facts. The utility andconvenience of common-place books were more apparent two centuriessince, than in our time, when books of reference are always publishedwith good tables of contents and alphabetical indexes. Roger North heldthat no man could become a good lawyer who did not keep a common-placebook. He instructs the student to buy for a common-place register "agood large paper book, as big as a church bible;" he instructs him howto classify the facts which should be entered in the work; and for amodel of a lucid and thoroughly lawyer-like common-place book he refers"to Lincoln's Inn library, where the Lord Hale's common-place book isconserved, and that may be a pattern, _instar omnium_. "

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

PUPILS IN CHAMBERS. 

But the most important part of an industrious law-student's labors inolden time, was the work of watching the practice of Westminster Hall. In the seventeenth century, the constant succession of political trialsmade the King's Bench Court especially attractive to students who weremore eager for gossip than advancement of learning; but it was alwaysheld that the student, who was desirous to learn the law rather than tocatch exciting news or hear exciting speeches, ought to frequent theCommon Pleas, in which court the common law was said to be at home. Atthe Common Pleas, a student might find a seat vacant in the students'benches so late as ten o'clock; but it was not unusual for every placedevoted to the accommodation of students in the Court of King's Bench, to be occupied by six o'clock, A. M. By dawn, and even before the sun hadbegun to break, students bent on getting good seats at the hearing of animportant cause would assemble, and patiently wait in court till thejudges made their appearance. 

One prominent feature in the advocate's education must always beelocutionary practice. "Talk; if you can, to the point, but anyhowtalk, " has been the motto of Advocacy from time immemorial. HeneageFinch, who, like every member of his silver-tongued family, was anauthority on matters pertaining to eloquence, is said to have advised ayoung student "to study all the morning and talk all the afternoon. "Sergeant Maynard used to express his opinion of the importance ofeloquence to a lawyer by calling law the "ars bablativa. " Roger Northobserves--"He whose trade is speaking must not, whatever comes out, failto speak, for that is a fault in the main much worse than impertinence. "And at a recent address to the students of the London University, LordBrougham urged those of his auditors, who intended to adopt theprofession of the bar, to habituate themselves to talk about everything. 

In past times law-students were proverbial for their talkativeness; andthough the present writer has never seen any records of a Carolinianlaw-debating society, it is matter of certainty that in the seventeenthcentury the young students and barristers formed themselves intocoteries, or clubs, for the practice of elocution and for legaldiscussions. The continual debates on 'mootable days, ' and the incessantwranglings of the Temple cloisters, encouraged them to pay especialattention to such exercises. In Charles II. 's reign Pool's company, wasa coterie of students and young barristers, who used to meetperiodically for congenial conversation and debate. "There is seldom atime, " says Roger North, speaking of this coterie, "but in every Inn ofCourt there is a studious, sober company that are select to each other, and keep company at meals and refreshments. Such a company did Mr. Poolfind out, whereof Sergeant Wild was one, and every one of them provedeminent, and most of them are now preferred in the law; and Mr. Pool, atthe latter end of his life, took such a pride in his company that heaffected to furnish his chambers with their pictures. " Amongst thebenefits to be derived from such a club as that of which Mr. Pool waspresident, Roger North mentions "Aptness to speak;" adding: "for a manmay be possessed of a book-case, and think he has it _ad unguem_throughout, and when he offers at it shall find himself at a loss, andhis words will not be right and proper, or perhaps too many, and hisexpressions confused: _when he has once talked his case over, and, hiscompany have tossed it a little to and fro, then he shall utter it morereadily, with fewer words and much more force_. "

These words make it clear that Mr. Pool's 'company' was a select'law-debating society. ' Far smaller as to number of members, somethingmore festive in its arrangements, but not less bent on furthering theprofessional progress of its members, it was, some two hundred yearssince, all that the 'Hardwicke' and other similar associations are atthe present. [29]

To such fraternities--of which the Inns of Court had several in the lastcentury--Murray and Thurlow, Law and Erskine had recourse: and besidesattending strictly professional clubs, it was usual for the students, oftheir respective times, to practise elocution at the coffee-houses andpublic spouting-rooms of the town. Murray used to argue as well as'drink champagne' with the wits; Thurlow was the irrepressible talker ofNando's; Erskine used to carry his scarlet uniform from Lincoln's InnHall, to the smoke-laden atmosphere of Coachmakers' Hall, at whichmemorable 'discussion forum' Edward Law is known to have spoken in thepresence of a closely packed assembly of politicians, idlers upon town, shop-men, and drunkards. Thither also Horne Tooke and Dunning used toadjourn after dining with Taffy Kenyon at the Chancery Laneeating-house, where the three friends were wont to stay their hunger forsevenpence halfpenny each. "Dunning and myself, " Horne Tooke saidboastfully, when he recalled these economical repasts, "were generous, for we gave the girl who waited on us a penny apiece; but Kenyon, whoalways knew the value of money, rewarded her with a halfpenny, andsometimes with a _promise_. "

Notwithstanding the recent revival of lectures and the institution ofexaminations, the actual course of the law-student has changed littlesince the author of the 'Pleader's Guide, ' in 1706, described the careerof John Surrebutter, Esq. , Special Pleader and Barrister-at-Law. Thelabors of 'pupils in chambers, are thus noticed by Mr. Surrebutter:--

 "And, better to improve your taste, Are by your parents' fondness plac'd Amongst the blest, the chosen few (Blest, if their happiness they knew), Who for three hundred guineas paid To some great master of the trade, Have at his rooms by _special_ favor His leave to use their best endeavor, By drawing pleas from nine till four, To earn him twice three hundred more; And after dinner may repair To 'foresaid rooms, and then and there Have 'foresaid leave from five till ten, To draw th' aforesaid pleas again. "

Continuing to describe his professional career, Mr. Surrebutter mentionscertain facts which show that so late as the close of last centuryprofessional etiquette did not forbid special pleaders and barristers tocurry favor with solicitors and solicitors' clerks by attentions whichwould now-a-days be deemed reprehensible. He says:--

 "Whoe'er has drawn a special plea Has heard of old Tom Tewkesbury, Deaf as a post, and thick as mustard, He aim'd at wit, and bawl'd and bluster'd And died a Nisi Prius leader-- That genius was my special pleader-- That great man's office I attended, By Hawk and Buzzard recommended Attorneys both of wondrous skill, To pluck the goose and drive the quill. Three years I sat his smoky room in, Pens, paper, ink, and pounce consuming; The fourth, when Epsom Day begun, Joyful I hailed th' auspicious sun, Bade Tewkesbury and Clerk adieu; (Purification, eighty-two) Of both I wash'd my hands; and though With nothing for my cash to show, But precedents so scrawl'd and blurr'd, I scarce could read a single word, Nor in my books of common-place One feature, of the law could trace, Save Buzzard's nose and visage thin, And Hawk's deficiency of chin, Which I while lolling at my ease Was wont to draw instead of pleas. My chambers I equipt complete, Made friends, hired books, and gave to eat; If haply to regale my friends on, My mother sent a haunch of ven'son, I most respectfully entreated The choicest company to eat it; _To wit_, old Buzzard, Hawk, and Crow; _Item_, Tom Thornback, Shark, and Co. Attorneys all as keen and staunch As e'er devoured a client's haunch. And did I not their clerks invite To taste said ven'son hash'd at night? For well I knew that hopeful fry My rising merit would descry, The same litigious course pursue, And when to fish of prey they grew, By love of food and contest led, Would haunt the spot where once they fed. Thus having with due circumspection Formed my professional connexion, My desks with precedents I strew'd, Turned critic, danc'd, or penn'd an ode, Suited the _ton_, became a free And easy man of gallantry; But if while capering at my glass, Or toying with a favorite lass, I heard the aforesaid Hawk a-coming, Or Buzzard on the staircase humming, At once the fair angelic maid Into my coal-hole I convey'd; At once with serious look profound, Mine eyes commencing with the ground, I seem'd like one estranged to sleep, 'And fixed in cogitation deep, ' Sat motionless, and in my hand I Held my 'Doctrina Placitandi, ' And though I never read a page in't, Thanks to that shrewd, well-judging agent, My sister's husband, Mr. Shark, Soon got six pupils and a clerk. Five pupils were my stint, the other I took to compliment his mother. "

Having fleeced pupils, and worked as a special pleader for a time, Mr. Surrebutter is called to the bar; after which ceremony his actiontowards 'the inferior branch' of the profession is not more dignifiedthan it was whilst he practised as a Special Pleader. 

It appears that in Mr. Surrebutter's time (_circa_ 1780) it was usualfor a student to spend three whole years in the same pleader's chambers, paying three hundred guineas for the course of study. Not many yearspassed before students saw it was not to their advantage to spend solong a period with the same instructor, and by the end of the centurythe industrious student who could command the fees wherewith to pay forsuch special tuition, usually spent a year or two in a pleader'schambers, and another year or two in the chambers of an equitydraughtsman, or conveyancer. Lord Campbell, at the opening of thepresent century, spent three years in the chambers of the eminentSpecial Pleader, Mr. Tidd, of whose learning and generosity thebiographer of the Chancellors makes cordial and grateful acknowledgment. Finding that Campbell could not afford to pay a second hundred guineasfor a second year's instruction, Tidd not only offered him the run ofhis chambers without payment, but made the young Scotchman take back the£105 which he had paid for the first twelve months. 

In his later years Lord Campbell delighted to trace his legal pedigreeto the great pleader and 'pupillizer' of the last century, Tom Warren. The chart ran thus: "Tom Warren had for pupil Sergeant Runnington, whoinstructed in the mysteries of special pleading the learned Tidd, whowas the teacher of John Campbell. " With honest pride and pleasant vanitythe literary Chancellor maintained that he had given the genealogicaltree another generation of forensic honor, as Solicitor General Dundasand Vaughan Williams, of the Common Pleas Bench, were his pupils. 

Though Campbell speaks of _Tom Warren_ as "the greater founder of thespecial pleading race, " and maintains that "the voluntary discipline ofthe special pleader's office" was unknown before the middle of the lastcentury, it is certain that the voluntary discipline of a legalinstructor's office or chambers was an affair of frequent occurrencelong before Warren's rise. Roger North, in his 'Discourse on the Studyof the Laws, ' makes no allusion to any such voluntary discipline as anordinary feature of a law-student's career; but in his 'Life of LordKeeper Guildford' he expressly informs us that he was a pupil in hisbrother's chambers. "His lordship, " writes the biographer, "having takenthat advanced post, and designing to benefit a relation (the HonorableRoger North), who was a student in the law, and kept him company, causedhis clerk to put into his hands all his draughts, such as he himself hadcorrected, and after which conveyances had been engrossed, that, by aperusal of them, he might get some light into the formal skill ofconveyancing. And that young gentleman instantly went to work, and firstnumbered the draughts, and then made an index of all the clauses, referring to that number and folio; so that, in this strict perusal anddigestion of the various matters, he acquired, not only a formal style, but also apt precedents, and a competent notion of instruments of allkinds. And to this great condescension was owing that little progress hemade, which afterwards served to prepare some matters for his lordship'sown perusal and settlement. " Here then is a case of a pupil in abarrister's chambers in Charles II. 's reign; and it is a case thatsuffers nothing from the fact that the teacher took no fee. 

In like manner, John Trevor (subsequently Master of the Rolls andSpeaker of the Commons) about the same time was "bred a sort of clerk inold Arthur Trevor's chamber, an eminent and worthy professor of the lawin the Inner Temple. " On being asked what might be the name of the boywith such a hideous squint who sate at a clerk's desk in the outer room, Arthur Trevor answered, "A kinsman of mine that I have allowed to sithere, to learn the knavish part of the law. " It must be observed thatJohn Trevor was not a clerk, but merely a "sort of a clerk" in hiskinsman's chamber. 

In the latter half of the seventeenth century, and in the earlier halfof the eighteenth century, students who wished to learn the practice ofthe law usually entered the offices of attorneys in large practice. Atthat period, the division between the two branches of the profession wasmuch less wide than it subsequently became; and no rule or maxim ofprofessional etiquette forbade Inns-of-Court men to act as thesubordinates of attorneys and solicitors. Thus Philip Yorke (LordHardwicke) in Queen Anne's reign acted as clerk in the office of Mr. Salkeld, an attorney residing in Brook Street, Holborn, whilst he kepthis terms at the Temple; and nearly fifty years later, Ned Thurlow (LordThurlow), on leaving Cambridge, and taking up his residence in theTemple, became a pupil in the office of Mr. Chapman, a solicitor, whoseplace of business was in Lincoln's Inn. There is no doubt that it wascustomary for young men destined the bar thus to work in attorneys'offices; and they continued to do so without any sense of humiliation orthought of condescension, until the special pleaders superseded theattorneys as instructors. 

[29] The mention of 'the Hardwicke' brings a droll story to the writer'smind. Some few years since the members of that learned fraternityassembled at their customary plate of meeting--a large room inAnderton's Hotel, Fleet Street--to discuss a knotty point of law aboutanent Uses. The master of young men was strong; and amongstthem--conspicuous for his advanced years, jovial visage, red nose, andair of perplexity--sate an old gentleman who was evidently a stranger toevery lawyer present. Who was he? Who brought him? Was there any one inthe room who knew him? Such were the whispers that floated about, concerning the portly old man, arrayed in blue coat and drab breechesand gaiters, who took his snuff in silence, and watched the proceedingswith evident surprise and dissatisfaction. After listening to threespeeches this antique, jolly stranger rose, and with much embarrassmentaddressed the chair. "Mr. President, " he said--"excuse me; but may Iask, --is this 'The Convivial Rabbits?'" A roar of laughter followed thisenquiry from a 'convivial rabbit, ' who having mistaken the evening ofthe week, had wandered into the room in which his convivialfellow-clubsters had held a meeting on the previous evening. Onreceiving the President's assurance that the learned members of alaw-debating society were not 'convivial rabbits, ' the elderly strangerbuttoned his blue coat and beat a speedy retreat. 

PART VIII. 

MIRTH. 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

WIT OF LAWYERS. 

No lawyer has given better witticisms to the jest-books than Sir ThomasMore. Like all legal wits, he enjoyed a pun, as Sir Thomas Manners, themushroom Earl of Rutland discovered, when he winced under the cuttingreproof of his insolence, conveyed in the translation of 'Honores mutantmores'--_Honors change manners_. But though he would condescend to playwith words as a child plays with shells on a sea-beach, he could at willcommand the laughter of his readers without having recourse to mereverbal antics. He delighted in what may be termed humorousmystification. Entering Bruges at a time when his leaving had gainedEuropean notoriety, he was met by the challenge of a noisy fellow whoproclaimed himself ready to dispute with the whole world--or any otherman--"in omni scibili et de quolibet ente. " Accepting the invitation, and entering the lists in the presence of all the scholastic magnates ofBruges, More gravely inquired, "An averia carucæ capta in vetitonamiosint irreplegibilia?" Not versed in the principles and terminology ofthe common law of England, the challenger could only stammer andblush--whilst More's eye twinkled maliciously, and his auditors wereconvulsed with laughter. 

Much of his humor was of the sort that is ordinarily called _quiet_humor, because its effect does not pass off in shouts of merriment. Ofthis kind of pleasantry he gave the Lieutenant of the Tower a specimen, when he said, with as much courtesy as irony, "Assure yourself I do notdislike my cheer; but whenever I do, then spare not to thrust me out ofyour doors!" Of the same sort were the pleasantries with which, on themorning of his execution, he with fine consideration for others stroveto divert attention from the cruelty of his doom. "I see no danger, " heobserved, with a smile, to his friend Sir Thomas Pope, shaking hiswater-bottle as he spoke, "but that this man may live longer if itplease the king. " Finding in the craziness of the scaffold a goodpretext for leaning in friendly fashion on his gaoler's arm, he extendedhis hand to Sir William Kingston, saying, "Master Lieutenant, I pray yousee me safe up; for my coming down let me shift for myself. " Even to theheadsman he gave a gentle pleasantry and a smile from the block itself, as he put aside his beard so that the keen blade should not touch it. "Wait, my good friend, till I have removed my beard, " he said, turninghis eyes upwards to the official, "for it has never offended hishighness. "

His wit was not less ready than brilliant, and on one occasion itsreadiness saved him from a sudden and horrible death. Sitting on theroof of his high gate-house at Chelsea, he was enjoying the beauties ofthe Thames and the sunny richness of the landscape, when his solitudewas broken by the unlooked-for arrival of a wandering maniac. Wearingthe horn and badge of a Bedlamite, the unfortunate creature showed thesigns of his malady in his equipment as well as his countenance. Havingcast his eye downwards from the parapet to the foot of the tower, heconceived a mad desire to hurl the Chancellor from the flat roof. "Leap, Tom! leap!" screamed the athletic fellow, laying a firm hand on More'sshoulder. Fixing his attention with a steady look, More said, coolly, "Let us first throw my little dog down, and see what sport that willbe. " In a trice the dog was thrown into the air. "Good!" said More, feigning delight at the experiment: "now run down, fetch the dog, andwe'll throw him off again. " Obeying the command, the dangerous intruderleft More free to secure himself by a bar, and to summon assistance withhis voice. 

For a good end this wise and mirth-loving lawyer would play the part ofa practical joker; and it is recorded that by a jest of the practicalsort he gave a wholesome lesson to an old civic magistrate, who, at theSessions of the Old Bailey, was continually telling the victims ofcut-purses that they had only themselves to thank for their losses--thatpurses would never be cut if their wearers took proper care to retainthem in their possession. These orations always terminated with, "Inever lose _my_ purse; cut-purses never take _my_ purse; no, i'faith, because I take proper care of it. " To teach his worship wisdom, and curehim of his self-sufficiency, More engaged a cut-purse to relieve themagistrate of his money-bag whilst he sat upon the bench. A story isrecorded of another Old Bailey judge who became the victim of a thiefunder very ridiculous circumstances. Whilst he was presiding at thetrial of a thief in the Old Bailey, Sir John Sylvester, Recorder ofLondon, said incidentally that he had left his watch at home. The trialended in an acquittal, the prisoner had no sooner gained his libertythan he hastened to the recorder's house, and sent in word to LadySylvester that he was a constable and had been sent from the Old Baileyto fetch her husband's watch. When the recorder returned home and foundhe had lost his watch, it is to be feared that Lady Sylvester lost herusual equanimity. _Apropos_ of these stories Lord Campbell tells--how, at the opening period of his professional career, soon after thepublication of his 'Nisi Prius Reports, ' he on circuit successfullydefended a prisoner charged with a criminal offence; and how, whilst thesuccess of his advocacy was still quickening his pulses, he discoveredthat his late client, with whom he held a confidential conversation, hadcontrived to relieve him of his pocket-book, full of bank-notes. As soonas the presiding judge, Lord Chief Baron Macdonald, heard of the mishapof the reporting barrister, he exclaimed, "What! does Mr. Campbell thinkthat no one is entitled to _take notes_ in court except himself?"

By the urbane placidity which marked the utterance of his happiestspeeches, Sir Nicholas Bacon often recalled to his hearers the courteouseasiness of More's _repartees_. Keeping his own pace in society, as wellas in the Court of Chancery, neither satire nor importunity could ruffleor confuse him. When Elizabeth, looking disdainfully at his modestcountry mansion, told him that the place was too small, he answered withthe flattery of gratitude, "Not so, madam, your highness has made me toogreat for my house. " Leicester having suddenly asked him his opinion oftwo aspirants for court favor, he responded on the spur of the moment, "By my troth, my lord, the one is a grave councillor: the other is aproper young man, and so he will be as long as he lives. " To the queen, who pressed him for his sentiments respecting the effect ofmonopolies--a delicate question for a subject to speak his mindupon--he answered, with conciliatory lightness, "Madam, will you have mespeak the truth? _Licentiâ_ omnes deteriores sumus. " In court he used tosay, "Let us stay a little, that we may have done the sooner. " Butnotwithstanding his deliberation and the stutter that hindered hisutterances, he could be quicker than the quickest, and sharper than themost acrid, as the loquacious barrister discovered who was suddenlychecked in a course of pert talkativeness by this tart remark from thestammering Lord Keeper: "There is a difference between you and me, --forme it is a pain to s-speak, for you a pain to hold your tongue. " Thatthe familiar story of his fatal attack of cold is altogether true onecannot well believe, for it seems highly improbable that the LordKeeper, in his seventieth year, would have sat down to be shaved near anopen window in the month of February. But though the anecdote may not behistorically exact, it may be accepted as a faithful portraiture of hismore stately and severely courteous humor. "Why did you suffer me tosleep thus exposed?" asked the Lord Keeper, waking in a fit of shiveringfrom slumber into which his servant had allowed him to drop, as he satto be shaved in a place where there was a sharp current of air. "Sir, Idurst not disturb you, " answered the punctilious valet, with a lowlyobeisance. Having eyed him for a few seconds, Sir Nicholas rose andsaid, "By your civility I lose my life. " Whereupon the Lord Keeperretired to the bed from which he never rose. 

Amongst Elizabethan Judges who aimed at sprightliness on the Bench, Hatton merits a place; but there is reason to think that the idlers, whocrowded his court to admire the foppishness of his judicial costume, didnot get one really good _mot_ from his lips to every ten bright sayingsthat came from the clever barristers practising before him. One of thebest things attributed to him is a pun. In a case concerning the limitsof certain land, the counsel on one side having remarked withexplanatory emphasis, "We lie on this side, my Lord;" and the counsel onthe other side having interposed with equal vehemence, "We lie on thisside, my Lord, "--the Lord Chancellor leaned backwards, and drylyobserved, "If you lie on both sides, whom am I to believe?" InElizabethan England the pun was as great a power in the jocularity ofthe law-courts as it is at present; the few surviving witticisms thatare supposed to exemplify Egerton's lighter mood on the bench, being forthe most part feeble attempts at punning. For instance, when he wasasked, during his tenure of the Mastership of the Rolls, to _commit_ acause, _i. E. _, to refer it to a Master in Chancery, he used to answer, "What has the cause done that it should be committed?" It is alsorecorded of him that, when he was asked for his signature to a petitionof which he disapproved, he would tear it in pieces with both hands, saying, "You want my hand to this? You shall have it; aye, and both myhands, too. "

Of Egerton's student days a story is extant, which has merits, independent of its truth or want of truth. The hostess of a Smithfieldtavern had received a sum of money from three graziers, in trust forthem, and on engagement to restore it to them on their joint demand. Soon after this transfer, one of the co-depositors, fraudulentlyrepresenting himself to be acting as the agent of the other two, inducedthe old lady to give him possession of the whole of the money--andthereupon absconded. Forthwith the other two depositors brought anaction against the landlady, and were on the point of gaining a decisionin their favor, when young Egerton, who had been taking notes of thetrial, rose as _amicus curiæ_, and argued, "This money, by the contract, was to be returned to _three_, but _two_ only sue;--where is the_third_? let him appear with the others; till then the money cannot bedemanded from her. " Nonsuit for the plaintiffs--for the young student ahum of commendation. 

Many of the pungent sayings current in Westminster Hall at the presenttime, and attributed to eminent advocates who either are still upon theforensic stage, or have recently withdrawn from it, were common jestsamongst the lawyers of the seventeenth century. What law-student noweating dinners at the Temple has not heard the story of SergeantWilkins, who, on drinking a pot of stout in the middle of the day, explained that, as he was about to appear in court, he thought it rightto fuddle his brain down to the intellectual standard of a British jury. This merry thought, two hundred and fifty years since, was currentlyattributed to Sir John Millicent, of Cambridgeshire, of whom it isrecorded--"being asked how he did conforme himselfe to the gravejustices his brothers, when they met, 'Why, in faithe, ' sayes he, 'Ihave no way but to drinke myself downe to the capacitie of the Bench. '"

Another witticism, currently attributed to various recent celebrities, but usually fathered upon Richard Brinsley Sheridan--on whose reputationhave been heaped the brilliant _mots_ of many a speaker whom he neverheard, and the indiscretions of many a sinner whom he never knew--iscertainly as old as Shaftesbury's bright and unprincipled career. WhenCharles II. Exclaimed, "Shaftesbury, you are the most profligate man inmy dominions, " the reckless Chancellor answered, "Of a subject, sir, Ibelieve I am. " It is likely enough that Shaftesbury merely repeated thewitticism of a previous courtier; but it is certain that Sheridan wasnot the first to strike out the pun. 

In this place let a contradiction be given to a baseless story, whichexalts Sir William Follett's reputation for intellectual readiness andargumentative ability. The story runs, that early in the January of1845, whilst George Stephenson, Dean Buckland, and Sir William Follettwere Sir Robert Peel's guests at Drayton Manor, Dean Buckland vanquishedthe engineer in a discussion on a geological question. The next morning, George Stephenson was walking in the gardens of Drayton Manor beforebreakfast, when Sir William Follett accosted him, and sitting down in anarbor asked for the facts of the argument. Having quickly 'picked up thecase, ' the lawyer joined Sir Robert Peel's guests at breakfast, andamused them by leading the dean back to the dispute of the previous day, and overthrowing his fallacies by a skilful use of the same argumentswhich the self-taught engineer had employed with such ill effect. "Whatdo you say, Mr. Stephenson?" asked Sir Robert Peel, enjoying the dean'sdiscomfiture. "Why, " returned George Stephenson, "I only say this, thatof all the powers above and under earth, there seems to me no power sogreat as the gift of the gab. " This is the story. But there are factswhich contradict it. The only visit paid by George Stephenson to DraytonManor was made in the December of 1844, not the January of 1845. Theguests (invited for Dec. 14, 1844), were Lord Talbot, Lord Aylesford, the Bishop of Lichfield, Dr. Buckland, Dr. Lyon Playfair, ProfessorOwen, George Stephenson, Mr. Smith of Deanston, and ProfessorWheatstone. Sir William Follett was not of the party, and did not setfoot within Drayton Manor during George Stephenson's visit there. Ofthis, Professor Wheatstone (who furnished the present writer with theseparticulars), is certain. Moreover, it is not to be believed that SirWilliam Follett, an overworked invalid (who died in the June of 1845 ofthe pulmonary disease under which he had suffered for years), would sitin an arbor before breakfast on a winter's morning to hold debate witha companion on any subject. The story is a revival of an anecdote firsttold long before George Stephenson was born. 

In lists of legal _facetiæ_ the habit of punning is not more noticeablethan the prevalent unamiability of the jests. Advocates are intellectualgladiators, using their tongues as soldiers of fortune use their swords;and when they speak, it is to vanquish an adversary. Antagonism is anunavoidable condition of their existence; and this incessant warfaregives a merciless asperity to their language, even when it does notinfuse their hearts with bitterness. Duty enjoins the barrister to leaveno word unsaid that can help his client, and encourages him to perplexby satire, baffle by ridicule, or silence by sarcasm, all who may opposehim with statements that cannot be disproved, or arguments that cannotbe upset by reason. That which duty bids him do, practice enables him todo with terrible precision and completeness; and in many a case thecaustic tone, assumed at the outset as a professional weapon, becomeshabitual, and, without the speaker's knowledge, gives more pain withinhis home than in Westminster Hall. 

Some of the well-known witticisms attributed to great lawyers are sobrutally personal and malignant, that no man possessing any respect forhuman nature can read them without endeavoring to regard them as merebiographic fabrications. It is recorded of Charles Yorke that, after hiselection to serve as member for the University of Cambridge, he, inaccordance with etiquette, made a round of calls on members of senate, giving them personal thanks for their votes; and that on coming to thepresence of a supporter--an old 'fellow' known as the ugliest man inCambridge--he addressed him thus, after smiling 'an aside' to a knot ofbystanders--"Sir, I have reason to be thankful to my friends ingeneral; but I confess myself under particular obligation to you forthe very _remarkable countenance_ you have shown me on this occasion. "There is no doubt that Charles Yorke could make himself unendurablyoffensive; it is just credible that without a thought of their doublemeaning he uttered the words attributed to him; but it is not to bebelieved that he--an English gentleman--thus intentionally insulted aman who had rendered him a service. 

A story far less offensive than the preceding anecdote, but in one pointsimilar to it, is told of Judge Fortescue-Aland (subsequently LordFortescue), and a counsel. Sir John Fortescue-Aland was disfigured by anose which was purple, and hideously misshapen by morbid growth. Havingchecked a ready counsel with the needlessly harsh observation, "Brother, brother, you are handling the case in a very lame manner, " the angryadvocate gave vent to his annoyance by saying, with a perfect appearanceof _sang-froid_, "Pardon me, my lord; have patience with me, and I willdo my best to make the case as plain as--as--the nose on your lordship'sface. " In this case the personality was uttered in hot blood, by a manwho deemed himself to be striking the enemy of his professionalreputation. 

If they were not supported by incontrovertible testimony, the admirersof the great Sir Edward Coke would reject as spurious many of theoverbearing rejoinders which escaped his lips in courts of justice. Histone in his memorable altercation with Bacon at the bar of the Court ofExchequer speaks ill for the courtesy of English advocates inElizabeth's reign; and to any student who can appreciate the dignifiedformality and punctilious politeness that characterized Englishgentlemen in the old time, it is matter of perplexity how a man ofCoke's learning, capacity, and standing, could have marked his contemptfor 'Cowells Interpreter, ' by designating the author in open court Dr. Cowheel. Scarcely in better taste were the coarse personalities withwhich, as Attorney General, he deluged Garnet the Jesuit, whom hedescribed as "a Doctor of Jesuits; that is, a Doctor of six D's--asDissimulation, Deposing of princes, Disposing of kingdoms, Daunting andDeterring of Subjects, and Destruction. "

In comparatively recent times few judges surpassed Thurlow inoverbearing insolence to the bar. To a few favorites, such as John Scottand Kenyon, he could be consistently indulgent, although even to themhis patronage was often disagreeably contemptuous; but to those whoprovoked his displeasure by a perfectly independent and fearless bearinghe was a malignant persecutor. For instance, in his animosity to RichardPepper Arden (Lord Alvanley), he often forgot his duty as a judge andhis manners as a gentleman. John Scott, on one occasion, rising in theCourt of Chancery to address the court after Arden, who was his leaderin the cause, and had made an unusually able speech, Lord Thurlow hadthe indecency to say, "Mr. Scott, I am glad to find that you are engagedin the cause, for I now stand some chance of knowing something about thematter. " To the Chancellor's habitual incivility and insolence it isallowed that Arden always responded with dignity and self-command, humiliating his powerful and ungenerous adversary by invariablegood-breeding. Once, through inadvertence, he showed disrespect to thesurly Chancellor, and then he instantly gave utterance to a cordialapology, which Thurlow was not generous enough to accept withappropriate courtesy. In the excitement of professional altercation withcounsel respecting the ages of certain persons concerned in a suit, hecommitted the indecorum of saying aloud, "I'll lay you a bottle ofwine. " Ever on the alert to catch his enemy tripping, Thurlow's eyebrightened as his ear caught the careless words; and in another instanthe assumed a look of indignant disgust. But before the irate judge couldspeak, Arden exclaimed, "My lord, I beg your lordship's pardon; I reallyforgot where I was. " Had Thurlow bowed a grave acceptance of theapology, Arden would have suffered somewhat from the misadventure; butunable to keep his abusive tongue quiet, the 'Great Bear' growled out, in allusion to the offender's Welsh judgeship, "You thought you were inyour own court, I presume. "

More laughable, but not more courteous, was the same Chancellor's speechto a solicitor who had made a series of statements in a vain endeavor toconvince his lordship of a certain person's death. "Really, my lord, " atlast the solicitor exclaimed, goaded into a fury by Thurlow's repeatedejaculations of "That's no proof of the man's death;" "Really, my lord, it is very hard, and it is not right that you won't believe me. I sawthe man dead in his coffin. My lord, I tell you he was my client, and heis dead. " "No wonder, " retorted Thurlow, with a grunt and a sneer, "_since he was your client_. Why did you not tell me that sooner? Itwould kill me to have such a fellow as you for my attorney. " That thisgreat lawyer could thus address a respectable gentleman is lessastonishing when it is remembered, that he once horrified a party ofaristocratic visitors at a country-house by replying to a lady whopressed him to take some grapes, "Grapes, madam, grapes! Did not I say aminute ago that I had the _gripes_!" Once this ungentle lawyer wasfairly worsted in a verbal conflict by an Irish pavier. On crossing thethreshold of his Ormond Street house one morning, the Chancellor wasincensed at seeing a load of paving-stones placed before his door. Singling out the tallest of a score of Irish workmen who were repairingthe thoroughfare, he poured upon him one of those torrents of curseswith which his most insolent speeches were usually preluded, and thentold the man to move the stones away instantly. "Where shall I take themto, your honor?" the pavier inquired. From the Chancellor another volleyof blasphemous abuse, ending with, "You lousy scoundrel, take them tohell!--do you hear me?" "Have a care, your honor, " answered the workman, with quiet drollery, "don't you think now that if I took 'em to theother place your honor would be less likely to fall over them?"

Thurlow's incivility to the solicitor reminds us of the cruel answergiven by another great lawyer to a country attorney, who, through fussyanxiety for a client's interests, committed a grave breach ofprofessional etiquette. Let this attorney be called Mr. Smith, and letit be known that Mr. Smith, having come up to London from a secludeddistrict of a remote country, was present at a consultation ofcounsellors learned in the law upon his client's cause. At thisinterview, the leading counsel in the cause, the Attorney General of thetime, was present and delivered his final opinion with characteristicclearness and precision. The consultation over, the country attorneyretreated to the Hummums Hotel, Covent Garden, and, instead of sleepingover the statements made at the conference, passed a wretched andwakeful night, harassed by distressing fears, and agitated by aconviction that the Attorney General had overlooked the most importantpoint of the case. Early next day, Mr. Smith, without appointment, wasat the great counsellor's chambers, and by vehement importunity, as wellas a liberal donation to the clerk, succeeded in forcing his way to theadvocate's presence. "Well, Mis-ter Smith, " observed the AttorneyGeneral to his visitor, turning away from one of his devilling juniors, who chanced to be closeted with him at the moment of the intrusion, "what may you want to say? Be quick, for I am pressed for time. "Notwithstanding the urgency of his engagements, he spoke with a slownesswhich, no less than the suspicious rattle of his voice, indicated thefervor of displeasure. "Sir Causticus Witherett, I trust you will excusemy troubling you; but, sir, after our yesterday's interview, I went tomy hotel, the Hummums, in Covent Garden, and have spent the evening andall night turning over my client's case in my mind, and the more I turnthe matter over in my mind, the more reason I see to fear that you havenot given one point due consideration. " A pause, during which SirCausticus steadily eyed his visitor, who began to feel strangelyembarrassed under the searching scrutiny: and then--"State the point, Mis-ter Smith, but be brief. " Having heard the point stated, SirCausticus Witherett inquired, "Is that all you wish to say?" "All, sir--all, " replied Mr. Smith; adding nervously, "And I trust you willexcuse me for troubling you about the matter; but, sir, I could notsleep a wink last night; all through the night I was turning this matterover in my mind. " A glimpse of silence. Sir Causticus rose and standingover his victim made his final speech--"Mis-ter Smith, if you take myadvice, given with sincere commiseration for your state, you willwithout delay return to the tranquil village in which you habituallyreside. In the quietude of your accustomed scenes you will have leisureto _turn this matter over in what you are pleased to call your mind_. And I am willing to hope that _your mind_ will recover its usualserenity. Mr. Smith, I wish you a very good morning. "

Legal biography abounds with ghastly stories that illustrate theinsensibility with which the hanging judges in past generations used todon the black cap jauntily, and smile at the wretched beings whom theysentenced to death. Perhaps of all such anecdotes the most thoroughlysickening is that which describes the conduct of Jeffreys, when, asRecorder of London, he passed sentence of death on his old and familiarfriend, Richard Langhorn, the Catholic barrister--one of the victims ofthe Popish Plot phrensy. It is recorded that Jeffreys, not content withconsigning his friend to a traitor's doom, malignantly reminded him oftheir former intercourse, and with devilish ridicule admonished him toprepare his soul for the next world. The authority which gives us thisstory adds, that by thus insulting a wretched gentleman and personalassociate, Jeffreys, instead of rousing the disgust of his auditors, elicited their enthusiastic applause. 

In a note to a passage in one of the Waverley Novels, Scott tells astory of an old Scotch judge, who, as an enthusiastic chess-player, wasmuch mortified by the success of an ancient friend, who invariably beathim when they tried their powers at the beloved game. After a time thehumiliated chess-player had his day of triumph. His conqueror happenedto commit murder, and it became the judge's not altogether painful dutyto pass upon him the sentence of the law. Having in due form and withsuitable solemnity commended his soul to the divine mercy, he, after abrief pause, assumed his ordinary colloquial tone of voice, and noddinghumorously to his old friend, observed--"And noo, Jammie, I think ye'llalloo that I hae checkmated you for ance. "

Of all the bloodthirsty wearers of the ermine, no one, since the openingof the eighteenth century, has fared worse than Sir Francis Page--thevirulence of whose tongue and the cruelty of whose nature were marks forsuccessive satirists. In one of his Imitations of Horace, Pope says--

 "Slanderer, poison dread from Delia's rage, Hard words or hanging, if your judge be Page. "

In the same spirit the poet penned the lines of the 'Dunciad'--

 "Mortality, by her false guardians drawn, Chicane in furs, and Casuistry in lawn, Gasps, as they straighten at each end the cord, And dies, when Dulness gives her----the Sword. "

Powerless to feign insensibility to the blow, Sir Francis openly fittedthis _black_ cap to his dishonored head by sending his clerk toexpostulate with the poet. The ill-chosen ambassador performed hismission by showing that, in Sir Francis's opinion, the whole passagewould be sheer nonsense, unless 'Page' were inserted in the vacantplace. Johnson and Savage took vengeance on the judge for the judicialmisconduct which branded the latter poet a murderer; and Fielding, in'Tom Jones, ' illustrating by a current story the offensive levity of thejudge's demeanor at capital trials, makes him thus retort on ahorse-stealer: "Ay! thou art a lucky fellow; I have traveled the circuitthese forty years, and never found a horse in my life; but I'll tellthee what, friend, thou wast more lucky than thou didst know of; forthou didst not only find a horse, but a halter too, I promise thee. "This scandal to his professional order was permitted to insult thehumane sentiments of the nation for a long period. Born in 1661, he diedin 1741, whilst he was still occupying a judicial place; and it is saidof him, that in his last year he pointed the ignominious story of hisexistence by a speech that soon ran the round of the courts. In answerto an inquiry for his health, the octogenarian judge observed, "My dearsir--you see how it fares with me; I just manage to keep _hanging on, hanging on_. " This story is ordinarily told as though the old man didnot see the unfavorable significance of his words; but it is probablethat, he uttered them wittingly and with, a sneer--in the cynicism andshamelessness of old age. 

A man of finer stuff and of various merits, but still famous as a'hanging judge, ' was Sir Francis Buller, who also made himself odious tothe gentler sex by maintaining that husbands might flog their wives, ifthe chastisement were administered with a stick not thicker than theoperator's thumb. But the severity to criminals, which gave him a placeamongst hanging judges, was not a consequence of natural cruelty. Inability to devise a satisfactory system of secondary punishments, anda genuine conviction that ninety-nine out of every hundred culprits wereincorrigible, caused him to maintain that the gallows-tree was the mostefficacious as well as the cheapest instrument that could be inventedfor protecting society against malefactors. Another of his stern _dicta_was, that previous good character was a reason for increasing ratherthan a reason for lessening a culprit's punishment; "For, " he argued, "the longer a prisoner has enjoyed the good opinion of the world, theless are the excuses for his misdeeds, and the more injurious is hisconduct to public morality. "

In contrast to these odious stories of hanging judges are some anecdotesof great men, who abhorred the atrocities of our penal system, longbefore the worst of them were swept away by reform. Lord Mansfield hasnever been credited with lively sensibilities, but his humanity was soshocked by the bare thought of killing a man for committing a triflingtheft, that he on one occasion ordered a jury to find that a stolentrinket was of less value than forty shillings--in order that the thiefmight escape the capital sentence. The prosecutor, a dealer in jewelry, was so mortified by the judge's leniency, that he exclaimed, "What, mylord, my golden trinket not worth forty shillings? Why, the fashionalone cost me twice the money!" Removing his glance from the vindictivetradesman, Lord Mansfield turned towards the jury, and said, with solemngravity, "As we stand in need of God's mercy, gentlemen, let us not hanga man for fashion's sake. "

Tenderness of heart was even less notable in Kenyon than in Murray; butLord Mansfield's successor was at least on one occasion stirred byapathetic consequence of the bloody law against persons found guilty oftrivial theft. On the Home Circuit, having passed sentence of death on apoor woman who had stolen property to the value of forty shillings in adwelling-house, Lord Kenyon saw the prisoner drop lifeless in the dock, just as he ceased to speak. Instantly the Chief Justice sprang to hisfeet, and screamed in a shrill tone, "I don't mean to hang you--do youhear!--don't you hear?--Good----will nobody tell her that I don't meanto hang her?"

One of the humorous aspects of a repulsive subject is seen in thecuriosity and fastidiousness of prisoners on trial for capital offenceswith regard to the professional _status_ of the judges who try them. Asheep-stealer of the old bloody days liked that sentence should bepassed upon him by a Chief Justice; and in our own time murderersawaiting execution, sometimes grumble at the unfairness of their trials, because they have been tried by judges of inferior degree. Lord Campbellmentions the case of a sergeant, who, whilst acting as Chief JusticeAbbott's deputy, on the Oxford circuit, was reminded that he was 'merelya temporary' by the prisoner in the dock. Being asked in the usual wayif he had aught to say why sentence of death should not be passed uponhim, the prisoner answered--"_Yes; I have been tried before a journeymanjudge. _"

CHAPTER XL. 

HUMOROUS STORIES. 

Alike commendable for its subtlety and inoffensive humor was thepleasantry with which young Philip Yorke (afterwards Lord Hardwicke), answered Sir Lyttleton Powys's banter on the Western Circuit. An amiableand upright, but far from brilliant judge, Sir Lyttleton had a few petphrases---amongst them, "I humbly conceive, " and "Look, do yousee"--which he sprinkled over his judgments and colloquial talk withridiculous profuseness. Surprised at Yorke's sudden rise into lucrativepractice, this most gentlemanlike worthy was pleased to account for theunusual success by maintaining that young Mr. Yorke must have written alaw-book, which had brought him early into favor with the inferiorbranch of the profession. "Mr. Yorke, " said the venerable justice, whilst the barristers were sitting over their wine at a 'judges'dinner, ' "I cannot well account for your having so much business, considering how short a time you have been at the bar: I humbly conceiveyou must have published something; for look you, do you see, there isscarcely a cause in court but you are employed in it on one side or theother. I should therefore be glad to know, Mr. Yorke, do you see, whether this be the case. " Playfully denying that he possessed anycelebrity as a writer on legal matters, Yorke, with an assumption ofcandor, admitted that he had some thoughts of lightening the labors oflaw-students by turning Coke upon Littleton into verse. Indeed, heconfessed that he had already begun the work of versification. Notseeing the nature of the reply, Sir Lyttleton Powys treated the drollfancy as a serious project, and insisted that the author should give aspecimen of the style of his contemplated work. Whereupon the youngbarrister--not pausing to remind a company of lawyers of the words ofthe original. "Tenant in fee simple is he which hath lands or tenementsto hold to him and his heirs for ever"--recited the lines--

 "He that holdeth his lands in fee Need neither to quake nor quiver, _I humbly conceive: for look, do you see_ They are his and his heirs' forever. "

The mimicry of voice being not less perfect than the verbal imitation, Yorke's hearers were convulsed with laughter, but so unconscious was SirLyttleton of the ridicule which he had incurred, that on subsequentlyencountering Yorke in London, he asked how "that translation of Cokeupon Littleton was getting on. " Sir Lyttleton died in 1732, and exactlyten years afterwards appeared the first edition of 'The Reports of SirEdward Coke, Knt. , in Verse'--a work which its author may have beeninspired to undertake by Philip Yorke's proposal to versify 'Coke onLittleton. '

Had Yorke's project been carried out, lawyers would have a large supplyof that comic but sound literature of which Sir James Burrow's Reportscontain a specimen in the following poetical version of Chief JusticePratt's memorable decision with regard to a woman of English birth, whowas the widow of a foreigner:

 "A woman having settlement Married a man with none, The question was, he being dead, If what she had was gone. 

 "Quoth Sir John Pratt, 'The settlement Suspended did remain, Living the husband; but him dead It doth revive again. '

 (_Chorus of Puisne Judges. _)

 "Living the husband; but him dead It doth revive again. "

Chief Justice Pratt's decision on this point having been reversed by hissuccessor, Chief Justice Ryder's judgment was thus reported:

 "A woman having a settlement, Married a man with none, He flies and leaves her destitute; What then is to be done?

 "Quoth Ryder, the Chief Justice, 'In spite of Sir John Pratt, You'll send her to the parish In which she was a brat. 

 "'_Suspension of a settlement_ Is not to be maintained; That which she had by birth subsists Until another's gained. '

 (_Chorus of Puisne Judges. _)

 "That which she had by birth subsists Until another's gained. "

In the early months of his married life, whilst playing the part of anOxford don, Lord Eldon was required to decide in an important actionbrought by two undergraduates against the cook of University College. The plaintiffs declared that the cook had "sent to their rooms anapple-pie _that could not be eaten_. " The defendant pleaded that he hada remarkably fine fillet of veal in the kitchen. Having set aside thisplea on grounds obvious to the legal mind, and not otherwise thenmanifest to unlearned laymen, Mr. John Scott ordered the apple-pie to bebrought in court; but the messenger, dispatched to do the judge'sbidding, returned with the astounding intelligence that during theprogress of the litigation a party of undergraduates had actuallydevoured the pie--fruit and crust. Nothing but the pan was left. Judgment: "The charge here is, that the cook has sent up an apple-piethat cannot be eaten. Now that cannot be said to have been uneatablewhich has been eaten; and as this apple-pie has been eaten, it waseatable. Let the cook be absolved. "

But of all the judicial decisions on record, none was delivered withmore comical effect than Lord Loughborough's decision not to hear acause brought on a wager about a point in the game of 'Hazard. ' Aconstant frequenter of Brookes's and White's, Lord Loughborough was wellknown by men of fashion to be fairly versed in the mysteries ofgambling, though no evidence has ever been found in support of thecharge that he was an habitual dicer. That he ever lost much by play isimprobable; but the scandal-mongers of Westminster had some plausiblereasons for laughing at the virtuous indignation of the spotlessAlexander Wedderburn, who, whilst sitting at _Nisi Prius_, exclaimed, "Do not swear the jury in this case, but let it be struck out of thepaper. I will not try it. The administration of justice is insulted bythe proposal that I should try it. To my astonishment I find that theaction is brought on a wager as to the mode of playing an illegal, disreputable, and mischievous game called 'Hazard;' whether, allowingseven to be the main, and eleven to be a nick to seven, there are moreways than six of nicking seven on the dice? Courts of justice areconstituted to try rights and redress injuries, not to solve theproblems of the gamesters. The gentlemen of the jury and I may haveheard of 'Hazard' as a mode of dicing by which sharpers live, and youngmen of family and fortune are ruined; but what do any of us know of'seven being the main, ' or 'eleven being the nick to seven?' Do we comehere to be instructed in this lore, and are the unusual crowds (drawnhither, I suppose, by the novelty of the expected entertainment) to takea lesson with us in these unholy mysteries, which they are to practicein the evening in the low gaming-houses in St. James Street, pithilycalled by a name which should inspire a salutary terror of enteringthem? Again, I say, let the cause be struck out of the paper. Move thecourt, if you please, that it may be restored, and if my brethren thinkthat I do wrong in the course that I now take, I hope that one of themwill officiate for me here, and save me from the degradation of trying'whether there be more than six ways of nicking seven on the dice, allowing seven to be the main and eleven to be a nick to seven'--aquestion, after all, admitting of no doubt, and capable of mathematicaldemonstration. "

With equal fervor Lord Kenyon inveighed against the pernicious usage ofgambling, urging that the hells of St. James's should, be indicted ascommon nuisances. The 'legal monk, ' as Lord Carlisle stigmatized him forhis violent denunciations of an amusement countenanced by women of thehighest fashion, even went so far as to exclaim--"If any suchprosecutions are fairly brought before me, and the guilty parties areconvicted, whatever may be their rank or station in the country, thoughthey may be the first ladies in the land, they shall certainly exhibitthemselves in the pillory. "

The same considerations, which decided Lord Loughborough not to try anaction brought by a wager concerning chicken-hazard, made LordEllenborough decline to hear a cause where the plaintiff sought torecover money wagered on a cock-fight. "There is likewise, " said LordEllenborough, "another principle on which I think an action on suchwagers cannot be maintained. They tend to the degradation of courts ofjustice. It is impossible to be engaged in ludicrous inquiries of thissort consistently with that dignity which it is essential to the publicwelfare that a court of justice should always preserve. I will not trythe plaintiff's right to recover the four guineas, which might involvequestions on the weight of the cocks and the construction of their steelspurs. "

It has already been remarked that in all ages the wits of WestminsterHall have delighted in puns; and it may be here added, with theexception of some twenty happy verbal freaks, the puns of lawyers havenot been remarkable for their excellence. L'Estrange records that when astone was hurled by a convict from the dock at Charles I. 's ChiefJustice Richardson, and passed just over the head of the judge, whohappened to be sitting at ease and lolling on his elbow, the learned mansmiled, and observed to those who congratulated him on his escape, "Yousee now, if I had been an _upright judge_ I had been slaine. " UnderGeorge III. Joseph Jekyll[30] was at the same time the brightest wit andmost shameless punster of Westminster Hall; and such pride did he takein his reputation as a punster, that after the fashion of the wits of anearlier period he was often at considerable pains to give a pun awell-wrought epigrammatic setting. Bored with the long-winded speech ofa prosy sergeant, he wrote on a slip of paper, which was in due coursepassed along the barristers' benches in the court where he wassitting--

 "The sergeants are a grateful race, Their dress and language show it; Their purple garments come from _Tyre_, Their arguments go to it. "

When Garrow, by a more skilful than successful cross-examination, wasendeavoring to lure a witness (an unmarried lady of advanced years) intoan acknowledgment that payment of certain money in dispute had beentendered, Jekyll threw him this couplet--

 "Garrow, forbear; that tough old jade Will never prove a _tender maid_. "

So also, when Lord Eldon and Sir Arthur Pigott each made a stand incourt for his favorite pronunciation of the word 'lien;' Lord Eldoncalling the word _lion_ and Sir Arthur maintaining that it was to bepronounced like _lean_, Jekyll, with an allusion to the parsimoniousarrangements of the Chancellor's kitchen, perpetrated the _jeud'esprit_--

 "Sir Arthur, Sir Arthur, why what do you mean By saying the Chancellor's _lion_ is _lean_? D'ye think that his kitchen's so bad as all that, That nothing within it can ever get fat?"

By this difference concerning the pronunciation of a word the presentwriter is reminded of an amicable contest that occurred in WestminsterHall between Lord Campbell and a Q. C. Who is still in the front rank ofcourt-advocates. In an action brought to recover for damages done to acarriage, the learned counsel repeatedly called, the vehicle in questiona broug-ham, pronouncing both syllables of the word _brougham_. Whereupon, Lord Campbell with considerable pomposity observed, "_Broom_is the more usual pronunciation; a carriage of the kind you mean isgenerally and not incorrectly called a _broom_--that pronunciation isopen to no grave objection, and it has the great advantage of saving thetime consumed by uttering an extra syllable. " Half an hour later in thesame trial Lord Campbell, alluding to a decision given in a similaraction, said, "In that case the carriage which had sustained injury wasan _omnibus_----" "Pardon me, my lord, " interposed the Queen's Counsel, with such promptitude that his lordship was startled into silence, "acarriage of the kind, to which you draw attention is usually termed'bus;' that pronunciation is open to no grave objection, and it has thegreat advantage of saving the time consumed by uttering two extrasyllables. " The interruption was followed by a roar of laughter, inwhich Lord Campbell joined more heartily than any one else. 

One of Jekyll's happy sayings was spoken at Exeter, when he defendedseveral needlemen who were charged with raising a riot for the purposeof forcing the master-tailors to give higher wages. Whilst Jekyll wasexamining a witness as to the number of tailors present at the allegedriot, Lord Eldon--then Chief Justice of the Common Pleas--reminded himthat three persons can make that which the law regards as a riot;whereupon the witty advocate answered, "Yes, my lord, Hale and Hawkinslay down the law as your lordship states it, and I rely on theirauthority; for if there must be three men to make a riot, the riotersbeing _tailors_, there must be nine times three present, and unless theprosecutor make out that there were twenty-seven joining in this breachof the peace, my clients are entitled to an acquittal. " On Lord Eldonenquiring whether he relied on common-law or statute-law, the counselfor the defence answered firmly, "My lord, I rely on a well-known maxim, as old as Magna Charta, _Nine Tailors make a Man_. " Finding themselvesunable to reward a lawyer for so excellent a jest with an adverseverdict, the jury acquitted the prisoners. Towards the close of hiscareer Eldon made a still better jest than this of Jekyll's concerningtailors. In 1829, when Lyndhurst was occupying the woolsack for thefirst time, and Eldon was longing to recover the seals, the latterpresented a petition from the Tailors' Company at Glasgow againstCatholic Belief. 

"What!" asked Lord Lyndhurst from the woolsack, in a low voice, "do the_tailors_ trouble themselves about such _measures_?" Whereto, withunaccustomed quickness, the old Tory of the Tories retorted, "No wonder;you can't suppose that _tailors_ like _turncoats_. "

As specimens of a kind of pleasantry becoming more scarce every year, some of Sir George Rose's court witticisms are excellent. When Mr. Beams, the reporter, defended himself against the _friction_ of passingbarristers by a wooden bar, the flimsiness of which was pointed out toSir George (then Mr. Rose), the wit answered--

 "Yes--the partition is certainly thin-- Yet thick enough, truly, the Beams within. "

The same originator of happy sayings pointed to Eldon's characteristicweakness in the lines--

 "Mr. Leach made a speech, Pithy, clear, and strong; Mr. Hart, on the other part, Was prosy, dull, and long; Mr. Parker made that darker Which was dark enough without; Mr. Bell spoke so well, That the Chancellor said--'I doubt. '"

Far from being offended by this allusion to his notorious mentalinfirmity, Lord Eldon, shortly after the verses had floated intocirculation, concluded one of his decisions by saying, with asignificant smile, "And here _the Chancellor does not doubt_. "

Not less remarkable for precipitancy than Eldon for procrastination, SirJohn Leach, Vice-Chancellor, was said to have done more mischief byexcessive haste in a single term than Eldon in his whole life wroughtthrough extreme caution. The holders of this opinion delighted to repeatthe poor and not perspicuous lines--

 "In equity's high court there are Two sad extremes, 'tis clear; Excessive slowness strikes us there, Excessive quickness here. 

 "Their source, 'twixt good and evil, brings A difficulty nice; The first from Eldon's _virtue_, springs, The latter from his _vice_. "

It is needless to remark that this attempt to gloss the Chancellor'sshortcomings is an illustration of the readiness with which censorsapologize for the misdeeds of eminently fortunate offenders. WhilstEldon's procrastination and Leach's haste were thus put in contrast, anepigram also placed the Chancellor's frailty in comparison with thetedious prolixity of the Master of the Rolls--

 "To cause delay in Lincoln's Inn Two diff'rent methods tend: His lordship's judgments ne'er begin, His honors never end. "

A mirth-loving judge, Justice Powell, could be as thoroughly humorous inprivate life as he was fearless and just upon the bench. Swift describeshim as a surpassingly merry old gentleman, laughing heartily at allcomic things, and his own droll stories more than aught else. In courthe could not always refrain from jocularity. For instance, when hetried Jane Wenham for witch-craft, and she assured him that she couldfly, his eye twinkled as he answered, "Well, then you may; there is nolaw against flying. " When Fowler, Bishop of Gloucester--a thoroughbeliever in what is now-a-days called spiritualism--was persecuting hisacquaintance with silly stories about ghosts, Powell gave him a tellingreproof for his credulity by describing a horrible apparition which wasrepresented as having disturbed the narrator's rest on the previousnight. At the hour of midnight, as the clocks were striking twelve, thejudge was roused from his first slumber by a hideous sound. Starting up, he saw at the foot of his uncompanioned bed a figure--dark, gloomy, terrible, holding before its grim and repulsive visage a lamp that shedan uncertain light. "May Heaven have mercy on us!" tremulouslyejaculated the bishop at this point of the story. The judge continuedhis story: "Be calm, my lord bishop; be calm. The awful part of thismysterious interview has still to be told. Nerving myself to fashion thewords of inquiry, I addressed the nocturnal visitor thus--'Strangebeing, why hast thou come at this still hour to perturb a sinfulmortal?' You understand, my lord, I said this in hollow tones--in what Imay almost term a sepulchral voice. " "Ay--ay, " responded the bishop, with intense excitement; "go on--I implore you to go on. What did _it_answer?" "It answered in a voice not greatly different from the voice ofa human creature--'Please, sir, _I am the watchman on beat, and yourstreet-door is open_. '" Readers will remember the use which Barham hasmade of this story in the Ingoldsby Legends. 

As a Justice of the King's Bench, Powell had in Chief Justice Holt anassociate who could not only appreciate the wit of others, but couldhimself say smart things. When Lacy, the fanatic, forced his way intoHolt's house in Bedford Row, the Chief Justice was equal to theoccasion. "I come to you, " said Lacy, "a prophet from the Lord God, whohas sent me to thee and would have thee grant a _nolle prosequi_ forJohn Atkins, his servant, whom thou hast sent to prison. " Whereto thejudge answered, with proper emphasis, "Thou art a false prophet and alying knave. If the Lord God had sent thee, it would have been to theAttorney General, for the Lord God knows that it belongeth not to theChief Justice, to grant a _nolle prosequi_; but I, as Chief Justice, cangrant a warrant to commit thee to John Atkins's company. " Whereupon thefalse prophet, sharing the fate of many a true one, was forthwithclapped in prison. 

Now that so much has been said of Thurlow's brutal sarcasms, justicedemands for his memory an acknowledgment that he possessed a vein ofgenuine humor that could make itself felt without wounding. In hisundergraduate days at Cambridge he is said to have worried the tutors ofCaius with a series of disorderly pranks and impudent _escapades_, buton one occasion he unquestionably displayed at the university the quickwit that in after life rescued him from many an embarrassing position. "Sir, " observed a tutor, giving the unruly undergraduate a look ofdisapproval, "I never come to the window without seeing you idling inthe court. " "Sir, " replied young Thurlow, imitating the don's tone, "Inever come into the court without seeing you idling at the window. "Years later, when he had become a great man, and John Scott was payinghim assiduous court, Thurlow said, in ridicule of the mechanicalawkwardness of many successful equity draughtsmen, "Jack Scott, don'tyou think we could invent a machine to draw bills and answers inChancery?" Having laughed at the suggestion when it was made, Scott putaway the droll thought in his memory; and when he had risen to beAttorney General reminded Lord Thurlow of it under rather awkwardcircumstances. Macnamara, the conveyancer, being concerned as one of theprincipals in a Chancery suit, Lord Thurlow advised him to submit theanswer to the bill filed against him to the Attorney General. In duecourse the answer came under Scott's notice, when he found it sowretchedly drawn, that he advised Macnamara to have another answer drawnby some one who understood pleading. On the same day he was engaged atthe bar of the House of Lords, when Lord Thurlow came to him, and said, "So I understand you don't think my friend Mac's answer will do?" "Do!"Scott replied, contemptuously. "My Lord, it won't do at all! it musthave been drawn by that wooden machine which you once told me might beinvented to draw bills and answers. " "That's very unlucky, " answeredThurlow, "and impudent too, if you had known--_that I drew the answermyself_. "

Lord Lyndhurst used to maintain that it was one of the chief duties of ajudge to render it disagreeable to counsel to talk nonsense. Jeffreys inhis milder moments no doubt salved his conscience with the samedoctrine, when he recalled how, after elating him with a compliment, hestruck down the rising junior with "Lord, sir! you must be cackling too. We told you, Mr. Bradbury, your objection was very ingenious; that mustnot make you troublesome: you cannot lay an egg, but you must becackling over it. " Doubtless, also, he felt it one of the chief dutiesof a judge to restrain attorneys from talking nonsense when--on hearingthat the solicitor from whom he received his first brief had boastfullyremarked, in allusion to past services, "My Lord Chancellor! I _made_him!"--he exclaimed, "Well, then, I'll lay my maker by the heels, " andforthwith committed his former client and patron to the Fleet prison. Ifthis bully of the bench actually, as he is said to have done, interrupted the venerable Maynard by saying, "You have lost yourknowledge of law; your memory, I tell you, is failing through old age, "how must every hearer of the speech have exulted when Maynard quietlyanswered, "Yes, Sir George, I have forgotten more law than you everlearned; but allow me to say, I have not forgotten much. "

On the other hand it should be remembered that Maynard was a maneminently qualified to sow violent animosities, and that he was aperpetual thorn in the flesh of the political barristers, whoseprinciples he abhorred. A subtle and tricky man, he was constantlymisleading judges by citing fictitious authorities, and then smiling attheir professional ignorance when they had swallowed his audaciousfabrications. Moreover, the manner of his speech was sometimes asoffensive as its substance was dishonest. Strafford spoke a bittercriticism not only with regard to Maynard and Glyn, but with regard tothe prevailing tone of the bar, when, describing the conduct of theadvocates who managed his prosecution, he said: "Glynne and Maynard usedme _like advocates_, but Palmer and Whitelock _like gentlemen_; and yetthe latter left out nothing against me that was material to be urgedagainst me. " As a Devonshire man Maynard is one of the many cases whichmay be cited against the smart saying of Sergeant Davy, who used toobserve: "The further I journey toward the West, the more convinced I amthat the wise men come from the East. " But shrewd, observant, liberalthough he was in most respects, he was on one matter so far behind thespirit of the age that, blinded and ruled by an unwise sentiment, hegave his parliamentary support to an abortive measure "to preventfurther building in London and the neighborhood. " In support of thismeasure he observed, "This building is the ruin of the gentry and ruinof religion, as leaving many good people without churches to go to. This enlarging of London makes it filled with lacqueys and pages. In St. Giles's parish scarce the fifth part come to church, and we shall haveno religion at last. "

Whilst justice has suffered something in respect of dignity from theoverbearing temper of judges to counsel, from collisions of the benchwith the bar, and from the mutual hostility of rival advocates, she hasat times sustained even greater injury from the jealousies andaltercations of judges. Too often wearers of the ermine, sitting on thesame bench, nominally for the purpose of assisting each other, haveroused the laughter of the bar, and the indignation of suitors, by theirpetty squabbles. "It now comes to my turn, " an Irish judge observed, when it devolved on him to support the decision of one or the other oftwo learned coadjutors, who had stated with more fervor than courtesyaltogether irreconcilable opinions--"It now comes to my turn to declaremy view of the case, and fortunately I can be brief. I agree with mybrother A, from the irresistible force of my brother B's arguments. "Extravagant as this case may appear, the King's Bench of WestminsterHall, under Mansfield and Kenyon, witnessed several not less scandalousand comical differences. Taking thorough pleasure in his work, LordMansfield was not less industrious than impartial in the discharge ofhis judicial functions; so long as there was anything for him to learnwith regard to a cause, he not only sought for it with pains but with amanifest pleasure similar to that delight in judicial work which causedthe French Advocate, Cottu, to say of Mr. Justice Bayley: "Il s'amuse àjuger:" but notwithstanding these good qualities, he was often culpablydeficient in respect for the opinions of his subordinate coadjutors. Attimes a vain desire to impress on the minds of spectators that hisintellect was the paramount power of the bench; at other times apersonal dislike to one of his _puisnes_ caused him to derogate from thedignity of his court, in cases where he was especially careful toprotect the interests of suitors. With silence more disdainful than anywords could have been, he used to turn away from Mr. Justice Willes, atthe moment when the latter expected his chief to ask his opinion; and onsuch occasions the indignant _puisne_ seldom had the prudence and nerveto conceal his mortification. "I have not been consulted, and I will beheard!" he once shrieked forth in a paroxysm of rage caused byMansfield's contemptuous treatment; and forty years afterwards JeremyBentham, who was a witness of the insult and its effect, observed: "Atthis distance of time--five-and-thirty or forty years--the femininescream issuing out of his manly frame still tingles in my ears. "Mansfield's overbearing demeanor to his _puisnes_ was reproduced withless dignity by his successor; but Buller, the judge who wore erminewhilst he was still in his thirty-third year, and who confessed that his"idea of heaven was to sit at Nisi Prius all day, and to play whist allnight, " seized the first opportunity to give Taffy Kenyon a lesson ingood manners by stating, with impressive self-possession and convincinglogic, the reasons which induced him to think the judgment delivered byhis chief to be altogether bad in law and argument. 

[30] One of Jekyll's best displays of brilliant impudence wasperpetrated on a Welsh judge, who was alike notorious for his greed ofoffice and his want of personal cleanliness. "My dear sir, " Jekyllobserved in his most amiable manner to this most unamiable personage, "you have asked the minister for almost everything else, why _don't_ youask him for a piece of soap and a nail-brush?"

CHAPTER XLI. 

WITS IN 'SILK' AND PUNSTERS IN 'ERMINE. '

Whilst Lord Camden held the chiefship of the Common Pleas, he waswalking with his friend Lord Dacre on the outskirts of an Essex village, when they passed the parish stocks. "I wonder, " said the Chief Justice, "whether a man in the stocks endures a punishment that is physicallypainful? I am inclined to think that, apart from the sense ofhumiliation and other mental anguish, the prisoner suffers nothing, unless the populace express their satisfaction at his fate by peltinghim with brick-bats. " "Suppose you settle your doubts by putting yourfeet into the holes, " rejoined Lord Dacre, carelessly. In a trice theChief Justice was sitting on the ground with his feet some fifteeninches above the level of his seat, and his ankles encircled by hardwood. "Now, Dacre!" he exclaimed, enthusiastically, "fasten the bolts, and leave me for ten minutes. " Like a courteous host Lord Dacre compliedwith the whim of his guest, and having placed it beyond his power toliberate himself bade him 'farewell' for ten minutes. Intending tosaunter along the lane and return at the expiration of the statedperiod, Lord Dacre moved away, and falling into one of his customaryfits of reverie, soon forgot all about the stocks, his friend's freak, and his friend. In the meantime the Chief Justice went through everytorture of an agonizing punishment--acute shootings along the confinedlimbs, aching in the feet, angry pulsations under the toes, violentcramps in the muscles and thighs, gnawing pain at the point where hisperson came in immediate contact with the cold ground, pins-and-needleseverywhere. Amongst the various forms of his physical discomfort, faintness, fever, giddiness, and raging thirst may be mentioned. Heimplored a peasant to liberate him, and the fellow answered with a shoutof derision; he hailed a passing clergyman, and explained that he wasnot a culprit, but Lord Camden, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, andone of Lord Dacre's guests. "Ah!" observed the man of cloth, not so muchanswering the wretched culprit as passing judgment on his case, "madwith liquor. Yes, drunkenness is sadly on the increase; 'tis droll, though, for a drunkard in the stocks to imagine himself a ChiefJustice!" and on he passed. A farmer's wife jogged by on her pillion, and hearing the wretched man exclaim that he should die of thirst, thegood creature gave him a juicy apple, and hoped that his punishmentwould prove for the good of his soul. Not ten minutes, but ten hours didthe Chief Justice sit in the stocks, and when at length he was carriedinto Lord Dacre's house, he was in no humor to laugh at his ownmiserable plight. Not long afterwards he presided at a trial in which aworkman brought an action against a magistrate who had wrongfully placedhim in the stocks. The counsel for the defence happening to laugh at thestatement of the plaintiff, who maintained that he had suffered intensepain during his confinement, Lord Camden leaned forwards and inquired ina whisper, "Brother were you ever in the stocks?" "Never, my lord, "answered the advocate, with a look of lively astonishment "I have been, "was the whispered reply; "and let me assure you that the agony inflictedby the stocks is--_awful_!"

Of a different sort, but scarcely less intense, was the pain endured byLord Mansfield whenever a barrister pronounced a Latin word with a falsequantity. "My lords, " said the Scotch advocate, Crosby, at the bar ofthe House of Lords, "I have the honor to appear before your lordships ascounsel for the Curators. " "Ugh!" groaned the Westminster Oxfordlaw-lord, softening his reproof by an allusion to his Scotchnationality, "Curators, Mr. Crosby, Curators: I wish _our_ countrymenwould pay a little more attention to prosody. " "My Lord, " replied Mr. Crosby, with delightful readiness and composure, "I can assure you that_our_ countrymen are very proud of your lordship as the greatestsenator and orator of the present age. " The barrister who made BaronAlderson shudder under his robes by applying for a 'nolle prosequi, ' wasnot equally quick at self-defence, when that judge interposed, "Stop, sir--consider that this is the last day of term, and don't make thingsunnecessarily long. " It was Baron Alderson who, in reply to thejuryman's confession that he was deaf in one ear, observed, "Then leavethe box before the trial begins; for it is necessary that jurymen should_hear both sides_. "

Amongst legal wits, Lord Ellenborough enjoys a high place; and though indealing out satire upon barristers and witnesses, and even on hisjudicial coadjutors, he was often needlessly severe, he seldomperpetrated a jest the force of which lay solely in its cruelty. Perhapsthe most harsh and reprehensible outburst of satiric humor recorded ofhim is the crushing speech by which he ruined a young man for life. "The_unfortunate_ client for whom it is my privilege to appear, " said ayoung barrister, making his first essay in Westminster Hall--"theunfortunate client, my lord, for whom I appear--hem! hem!--I say, mylord, my _unfortunate client_----" Leaning forwards, and speaking in asoft, cooing voice, that was all the more derisive, because it was sogentle, Lord Ellenborough said, "you may go on, sir--so far the court iswith you. " One would have liked his lordship better had he sacrificedhis jest to humanity, and acted as long afterwards that true gentleman, Mr. Justice Talfourd, acted, who, seeing a young barrister overpoweredwith nervousness, gave him time to recover himself by saying, in thekindest possible manner, "Excuse me for interrupting you--but for aminute I am not at liberty to pay you attention. " Whereupon the Judgetook up his pen and wrote a short note to a friend. Before the note wasfinished, the young barrister had completely recovered hisself-possession, and by an admirable speech secured a verdict for hisclient. A highly nervous man, he might on that day have been broken forlife, like Ellenborough's victim, by mockery; but fortunate in appearingbefore a judge whose witty tongue knew not how to fashion unkind words, he triumphed over his temporary weakness, and has since achieved welldeserved success in his profession. Talfourd might have made a jest forthe thoughtless to laugh at; but he preferred to do an act, on whichthose who loved him like to think. 

When Preston, the great conveyancer, gravely informed the judges of theKing's Bench that "an estate in fee simple was the highest estate knownto the law of England, " Lord Ellenborough checked the great Chancerylawyer, and said with politest irony, "Stay, stay, Mr. Preston, let metake that down. An estate" (the judge writing as he spoke) "in feesimple is--the highest estate--known to--the law of England. Thank you, Mr. Preston! The court, sir, is much indebted to you for theinformation. " Having inflicted on the court an unspeakably drearyoration, Preston, towards the close of the day, asked when it would betheir lordship's pleasure to hear the remainder of his argument;whereupon Lord Ellenborough uttered a sigh of resignation, and answered, 'We are bound to hear you, and we will endeavor to give you ourundivided attention on Friday next; but as for _pleasure_, that, sir, has been long out of the question. '

Probably mistelling an old story, and taking to himself the merit ofLord Ellenborough's reply to Preston, Sir Vicary Gibbs (Chief of theCommon Pleas) used to tell his friends that Sergeant Vaughan--thesergeant who, on being subsequently raised to the bench through theinfluence of his elder brother, Sir Henry Halford, the court physician, was humorously described by the wits of Westminster Hall as a judge _byprescription_--once observed in a grandiose address to the Judges of theCommon Pleas, "For though our law takes cognizance of divers differentestates, I may be permitted to say, without reserve or qualification ofany kind, that the highest estate known to the law of England is anestate in fee simple. " Whereupon Sir Vicary, according to his ownaccount, interrupted the sergeant with an air of incredulity andastonishment. "What is your proposition, brother Vaughan? Perhaps I didnot hear you rightly!" Flustered by the interruption, which completelyeffected its object, the sergeant explained, "My lord, I mean to contendthat an estate in fee simple is _one of the highest estates_ known tothe law of England, that is, my lord, that it may be under certaincircumstances--and sometimes is so. "

Notwithstanding his high reputation for wit, Lord Ellenborough woulddeign to use the oldest jests. Thus of Mr. Caldecott, who over and overagain, with dull verbosity, had said that certain limestone quarries, like lead and copper mines, "were not rateable, because the limestonecould only be reached by boring, which was matter of science, " hegravely inquired, "Would you, Mr. Caldecott, have us believe that everykind of _boring_ is matter of science?" With finer humor he nipped inthe bud one of Randle Jackson's flowery harangues. "My lords, " said theorator, with nervous intonation, "in the book of nature it iswritten----" "Be kind enough, Mr. Jackson, " interposed LordEllenborough, "to mention the page from which you are about to quote. "This calls to mind the ridicule which, at an earlier period of hiscareer, he cast on Sheridan for saying at the trial of Warren Hastings, "The treasures in the Zenana of the Begum are offerings laid by thehand of piety on the altar of a saint. " To this not too rhetoricalstatement, Edward Law, as leading counsel for Warren Hastings, repliedby asking, "how the lady was to be considered a saint, and how thecamels were to be laid upon the altar?" With greater pungency, Sheridandefended himself by saying, "This is the first time in my life that Iever heard of special pleading on a metaphor, or a bill of indictmentagainst a trope; but such is the turn of the learned gentleman's mind, that when he attempts to be humorous no jest can be found, and whenserious no fact is visible. "[31] To the last Law delighted to point theabsurdities of orators who in aiming at the sublime only achieved theridiculous. "My lords, " said Mr. Gaselee, arguing that mourning coachesat a funeral were not liable to post-horse duty, "it never could havebeen the intention of a Christian legislature to aggravate the griefwhich mourners endure whilst following to the grave the remains of theirdearest relatives, by compelling them at the same time to pay thehorse-duty. " Had Mr. Gaselee been a humorist, Lord Ellenborough wouldhave laughed; but as the advocate was well known to have no turn forraillery, the Chief Justice gravely observed, "Mr. Gaselee, you incurdanger by sailing in high sentimental latitudes. "

To the surgeon in the witness-box who said, "I employ myself as asurgeon, " Lord Ellenborough retorted, "But does anybody else employ youas a surgeon?"

The demand to be examined _on affirmation_ being preferred by a Quakerwitness, whose dress was so much like the costume of an ordinary_conformist_ that the officer of the court had begun to administer theusual oath, Lord Ellenborough inquired of the 'friend, ' "Do you reallymean to impose upon the court by appearing here in the disguise of areasonable being?" Very pungent was his ejaculation at a cabinet dinnerwhen he heard that Lord Kenyon was about to close his penurious old ageby dying. "Die!--why should he die?--what would he get by that?"interposed Lord Ellenborough, adding to the pile of jests by which menhave endeavored to keep a grim, unpleasant subject out of sight--a pileto which the latest _mot_ was added the other day by Lord Palmerston, who during his last attack of gout exclaimed playfully. "_Die_, my deardoctor! That's the _last_ thing I think of doing. " Having jested aboutKenyon's parsimony, as the old man lay _in extremis_, Ellenboroughplaced another joke of the same kind upon his coffin. Hearing thatthrough the blunder of an illiterate undertaker the motto on Kenyon'shatchment in Lincoln's Inn Fields had been painted '_Mors Janua Vita_, 'instead of 'Mors Janua Vitæ, ' he exclaimed, "Bless you, there's nomistake; Kenyon's will directed that it should be 'Vita, ' so that hisestate might be saved the expense of _a diphthong. _" Capital also washis reply when Erskine urged him to accept the Great Seal. "How canyou, " he asked, in a tone of solemn entreaty, "wish me to accept theoffice of Chancellor, when you know, Erskine, that I am as ignorant ofits duties as you are yourself?" At the time of uttering these words, Ellenborough was well aware that if he declined them Erskine would takethe seals. Some of his puns were very poor. For instance, hisexclamation, "Cite to me the decisions of the judges of the land: notthe judgments of the Chief Justice of Ely, who is fit only to _rule_ acopybook. "

One of the best 'legal' puns on record is unanimously attributed by thegossipers of Westminster Hall to Lord Chelmsford. As Sir FrederickThesiger he was engaged in the conduct of a cause, and objected to theirregularity of a learned sergeant who in examining his witnessesrepeatedly put leading questions. "I have a right, " maintained thesergeant, doggedly, "to _deal_ with my witnesses as I please. " "To thatI offer no objection, " retorted Sir Frederick; "you may _deal_ as youlike, but you shan't _lead_. " Of the same brilliant conversationalistMr. Grantley Berkeley has recorded a good story in 'My Life andRecollections. ' Walking down St. James's Street, Lord Chelmsford wasaccosted by a stranger, who exclaimed "Mr. Birch I believe?" "If youbelieve that, sir, you'll believe anything, " replied the ex-Chancellor, as he passed on. 

When Thelwall, instead of regarding his advocate with grateful silence, insisted on interrupting him with vexatious remarks and impertinentcriticisms, Erskine neither threw up his brief nor lost his temper, butretorted with an innocent flash of merriment. To a slip of paper onwhich the prisoner had written, "I'll be hanged if I don't plead my owncause, " he contented himself with returning answer, "You'll be hanged ifyou do. " His _mots_ were often excellent, but it was the tone and joyousanimation of the speaker that gave them their charm. It is said that inhis later years, when his habitual loquaciousness occasionally sank intogarrulity, he used to repeat his jests with imprudent frequency, shamelessly giving his companions the same pun with each course of along dinner. There is a story that after his retirement from public lifehe used morning after morning to waylay visitors on their road throughthe garden to his house, and, pointing to his horticultural attire andthe spade in his hand assure them that he was 'enjoying his otium cum_digging a tatie_. ' Indeed the tradition lives that before his fall fromthe woolsack, pert juniors used to lay bets as to the number of times hecould fire off a favorite old pun in the course of a sitting in theCourt of Chancery, and that wily leaders habitually strove to catch hisfavor by giving him opportunities for facetious interruptions duringtheir arguments. If such traditions be truthful, it is no matter forsurprise that Erskine's court-jokes have come down to us with so manyvariations. For instance, it is recorded with much circumstantialitythat on circuit, accosting a junior who had lost his portmanteau fromthe back of a post-chaise, he said, with mock gravity, "Young gentlemen, henceforth imitate the elephant, the wisest of animals, who always_carries his trunk before him_;" and on equally good authority it isstated that when Polito, the keeper of the Exeter 'Change Menagerie, metwith a similar accident and brought an action for damages against theproprietor of the coach from the hind-boot of which his property haddisappeared, Erskine, speaking for the defence, told the jury that theywould not be justified in giving a verdict favorable to the man, who, though he actually possessed an elephant, had neglected to imitate itsprudent example and carry his trunk before him. 

As a _littérateur_ Erskine met with meagre success; but some of hissquibs and epigrams are greatly above the ordinary level of '_vers desociété_. ' For instance this is his:--

 "DE QUODAM REGE. 

 "I may not do right, though I ne'er can do wrong; I never can die, though I can not live long; My jowl it is purple, my hand it is fat-- Come, riddle my riddle. What is it? _What? What?_"

The liveliest illustrations of Erskine's proverbial egotism are thesquibs of political caricaturists; and from their humorousexaggerations it is difficult to make a correct estimate of the lengthsof absurdity to which his intellectual vanity and self-consciousnesssometimes carried him. From what is known of his disposition it seemsprobable that the sarcasms aimed by public writers at his infirmityinclined him to justify their attacks rather than to disprove them byhis subsequent demeanor, and that some of his most extravagant outburstsof self-assertion were designed in a spirit of bravado and recklessgood-nature to increase the laughter which satirists had raised againsthim. However this may be, his conduct drew upon him blows that wouldhave ruffled the composure of any less self-complacent or less amiableman. The Tory prints habitually spoke of him as Counsellor Ego whilst hewas at the bar; and when it was known that he had accepted the seals, the opposition journals announced that he would enter the house as"Baron Ego, of Eye, in the county of Suffolk. " Another of his nicknameswas _Lord Clackmannan_; and Cobbett published the following notice of anharangue made by the fluent advocate in the House of Commons:--"Mr. Erskine delivered a most animated speech in the House of Commons on thecauses and consequences of the late war, which lasted thirteen hours, eighteen minutes, and a second, by Mr. John Nichol's stop-watch. Mr. Erskine closed his speech with a dignified climax: 'I was born free, and, by G-d, I'll remain so!'--[A loud cry of '_Hear! hear_' in thegallery, in which were citizens Tallien and Barrère. ] On Monday threeweeks we shall have the extreme satisfaction of laying before the publica brief analysis of the above speech, our letter-founder having enteredinto an engagement to furnish a fresh font of I's. "[32]

From the days of Wriothesley, who may be regarded as the mostconspicuous and unquestionable instance of judicial incompetency in theannals of English lawyers, the multitudes have always delighted instories that illustrate the ignorance and incapacity of men who arepresumed to possess, by right of their office, an extraordinary share ofknowledge and wisdom. What law-student does not rub his hands as hereads of Lord St. John's trouble during term whilst he held the seals, and of the impatience with which he looked forward to the long vacation, when he would not be required to look wise and speak authoritativelyabout matters concerning which he was totally ignorant. Delicious arethe stories of Francis Bacon's clerical successor, who endeavored to getup a _quantum suff_. Of Chancery law by falling on his knees and askingenlightenment of Heaven. Gloomily comical are the anecdotes of ChiefJustice Fleming, whose most famous and disastrous blunder was hisjudgment in Bates's case. Great fun may be gathered from the tales thatexemplify the ignorance of law which characterized the military, andalso the non-military laymen, who helped to take care of the sealsduring the civil troubles of the seventeenth century. Capital is RogerNorth's picture of Bob Wright's ludicrous shiftlessness whenever theinfluence of his powerful relations brought the loquacious, handsome, plausible fellow a piece of business. "He was a comely fellow, " saysRoger North, speaking of the Chief Justice Wright's earlier days, "airyand flourishing both in his habits and way of living; and his relationWren (being a powerful man in those parts) set him in credit with thecountry; but withal, he was so poor a lawyer that he used to bring suchcases as came to him to his friend Mr. North, and he wrote the opinionon the paper, and the lawyer copied it, and signed under the case as ifit had been his own. It ran so low with him that when Mr. North was atLondon he sent up his cases to him, and had opinions returned by thepost; and, in the meantime he put off his clients on pretence of takingthe matter into serious consideration. " Perhaps some readers of thispage can point to juniors of the present date whose professionalincapacity closely resembles the incompetence of this gay youngbarrister of Charles II. 's time. Laughter again rises at the thought ofLord Chancellor Bathurst and the judicial perplexities and blunderswhich caused Sir Charles Williams to class him with those who

 "Were cursed and stigmatized by power, And rais'd to be expos'd. "

Much more than an average or altogether desirable amount of amiabilityhas fallen to the reader who can refrain from a malicious smile, when heis informed by reliable history that Lord Loughborough (no mean lawyeror inefficient judge), gave utterance to so much bad law, as Chairman ofQuarter Sessions in canny Yorkshire, that when on appeal his decisionswere reversed with many polite expressions of _sincere_ regret by theKing's Bench, all Westminster Hall laughed in concert at the mistakes ofthe sagacious Chief of the Common Pleas. 

But no lawyer, brilliant or dull, has been more widely ridiculed forincompetence than Erskine. Sir Causticus Witherett, being asked someyears since why a certain Chancellor, unjustly accused of intellectualdimness by his political adversaries and by the uninformed public, preferred his seat amongst the barons to his official place on thewoolsack, is said to have replied: "The Lord Chancellor usually takeshis seat amongst the peers whenever he can do so with propriety, becausehe is a highly nervous man, and when he is on the woolsack, he is apt tobe frightened at finding himself all alone--_in the dark_. " As soon asErskine was mentioned as a likely person to be Lord Chancellor, rumorsbegan to circulate concerning his total unfitness for the office; and nosooner had he mounted the woolsack than the wits declared him to bealone and in the dark. Lord Ellenborough's sarcasm was widely repeated, and gave the cue to the advocate's detractors, who had little difficultyin persuading the public that any intelligent law-clerk would make asgood a Chancellor as Thomas Erskine. With less discretion thangood-humor, Erskine gave countenance to the representations of hisenemies by ridiculing his own unfitness for the office. During theinterval between his appointment and his first appearance as judge inthe Court of Chancery, he made a jocose pretence of 'reading up' for hisnew duties: and whimsically exaggerating his deficiencies, herepresented himself as studying books with which raw students have somedegree of familiarity. Caught with 'Cruise's Digest' of the lawsrelating to real property, open in his hand, he observed to the visitorwho had interrupted his studies, "You see, I am taking a little from my_cruise_ daily, without any prospect of coming to the end of it. "

In the autumn of 1819 two gentlemen of the United States having differedin opinion concerning his incompetence in the Court of Chancery--the oneof them maintaining that the greater number of his decrees had beenreversed, and the other maintaining that so many of his decisions hadnot endured reversal--the dispute gave rise to a bet of three dozen ofport. With comical bad taste one of the parties to the bet--the one whobelieved that the Chancellor's judgments had been thus frequentlyupset--wrote to Erskine for information on the point. Instead of givingthe answer which his correspondent desired, Erskine informed him in thefollowing terms that he had lost his wine:--

 "Upper Berkley Street, Nov. 13, 1819. 

 "SIR:--I certainly was appointed Chancellor under the administration in which Mr. Fox was Secretary of State, in 1806, and could have been Chancellor under no administration in which he had not a post; nor would have accepted without him any office whatsoever. I believe the administration was said, by all the _Blockheads_, to be made up of all the _Talents_ in the country. 

 "But you have certainly lost your bet on the subject of my decrees. None of them were appealed against, except one, upon a branch of Mr. Thellusson's will--but it was affirmed without a dissentient voice, on the motion of Lord Eldon, then and now Lord Chancellor. If you think I was no lawyer, you may continue to think so. It is plain you are no lawyer yourself; but I wish every man to retain his opinion, though at the cost of three dozen of port. 

 "Your humble servant, "ERSKINE. 

 "To save you from spending your money on bets which you are sure to lose, remember that no man can be a great advocate who is no lawyer. The thing is impossible. "

Of the many good stories current about chiefs of the law who are stillalive, the present writer, for obvious reasons, abstains from takingnotice; but one humorous anecdote concerning a lively judge may withpropriety be inserted in these pages, since it fell from his own lipswhen he was making a speech from the chair at a public dinner. Betweensixty-five and seventy years from the present time, when Sir FrederickPollock was a boy at St. Paul's school, he drew upon himself thedispleasure of Dr. Roberts, the somewhat irascible head-master of theschool, who frankly told Sir Frederick's father, "Sir, you'll live tosee that boy of yours hanged. " Years afterwards, when the boy of whomthis dismal prophecy was made had distinguished himself at Cambridge andthe bar, Dr. Roberts, meeting Sir Frederick's mother in society, overwhelmed her with congratulations upon her son's success, andfortunately oblivious of his former misunderstanding with his pupil, concluded his polite speeches by saying--"Ah! madam, I always said he'dfill an _elevated_ situation. " Told by the venerable judge at a recentdinner of 'Old Paulines, ' this story was not less effective than thebest of those post-prandial sallies with which William St. JulienArabin--the Assistant Judge of Old Bailey notoriety--used to convulsehis auditors something more than thirty years since. In the 'Arabiniana'it is recorded how this judge, in sentencing an unfortunate woman to along term of transportation, concluded his address with--"You must goout of the country. You have disgraced _even_ your own sex. "

Let this chapter close with a lawyer's testimony to the moral qualitiesof his brethren. In the garden of Clement's Inn may still be seen thestatue of a negro, supporting a sun-dial, upon which a legal witinscribed the following lines:--

 "In vain, poor sable son of woe, Thou seek'st the tender tear; From thee in vain with pangs they flow, For mercy dwells not here. From cannibals thou fled'st in vain; Lawyers less quarter give; The _first_ won't eat you till you're _slain_, The _last_ will do't _alive_. "

Unfortunately these lines have been obliterated. 

[31] Robert Dallas--one of Edward Law's coadjutors in the defence ofHastings--gave another 'manager' a more telling blow. Indignant withBurke for his implacable animosity to Hastings, Dallas (subsequentlyChief Justice of the Common Pleas) wrote the stinging lines--

"Oft have we wondered that on Irish ground No poisonous reptile has e'eryet been found; Reveal'd the secret stands of nature's work--She savedher venom to produce her Burke. "

[32] In the 'Anti-Jacobin, ' Canning, in the mock report of an imaginaryspeech, represented Erskine as addressing the 'Whig Club' thus:--"Forhis part he should only say that, having been, as he had been, both asoldier and a sailor, if it had been his fortune to have stood in eitherof these relations to the Directory--as _a_ man and a major-general heshould not have scrupled to direct his artillery against the nationalrepresentatives:--as a naval officer he would undoubtedly haveundertaken for the removal of the exiled deputies; admitting theexigency, under all its relations, as it appeared to him to exist, andthe then circumstances of the times with all their bearings anddependencies, branching out into an infinity of collateralconsiderations and involving in each a variety of objects, political, physical, and moral; and these, again, under their distinct and separateheads, ramifying into endless subdivisions, which it was foreign to hispurpose to consider, Mr. Erskine concluded by recapitulating, in astrain of agonizing and impressive eloquence, the several more prominentheads of his speech; he had been a soldier and a sailor, and had a sonat Winchester school--he had been called by special retainers, duringthe summer, into many different and distant parts of thecountry--traveling chiefly in post-chaises. He felt himself called uponto declare that his poor faculties were at the service of hiscountry--of the free and enlightened part of it at least. He stood thereas a man--he stood in the eye, indeed, in the hand of God--to whom (inthe presence of the company and the waiters), he solemnly appealed. Hewas of noble, perhaps royal, blood--he had a house at Hampsted--wasconvinced of the necessity of a thorough and radical reform. Hispamphlets had gone through thirty editions, skipping alternately the oddand even numbers. He loved the Constitution, to which he would cling andgrapple--and he was clothed with the infirmities of man's nature. "

CHAPTER XLII. 

WITNESSES. 

In the days when Mr. Davenport Hill, the Recorder of Birmingham, made aprofessional reputation for himself in the committee-rooms of the Housesof Parliament, he had many a sharp tussle with one of those venalwitnesses who, during the period of excitement that terminated in thedisastrous railway panic, were ready to give scientific evidence onengineering questions, with less regard to truth than to the interestsof the persons who paid for their evidence. Having by mendaciousevidence gravely injured a cause in which Mr. Hill was interested ascounsel, and Mr. Tite, the eminent architect, and present member forBath, was concerned as a projector, this witness was struck withapoplexy and died--before he could complete the mischief which he had soadroitly begun. Under the circumstances, his sudden withdrawal from theworld was not an occasion for universal regret. "Well, Hill, have youheard the news?" inquired Mr. Tite of the barrister, whom he encounteredin Middle Temple Lane on the morning after the engineer's death. "Haveyou heard that ---- died yesterday of apoplexy?" "I can't say, " was therejoinder, "that I shall shed many tears for his loss. He was an arrantscoundrel. " "Come, come, " replied the architect, charitably, "you havealways been too hard on that man. He was by no means so bad a fellow asyou would make him out. I do verily believe that in the whole course ofhis life that man never told a lie--_out of the witness-box_. " Strangeto say, this comical testimony to character was quite justified by thefact. This man, who lied in public as a matter of business, waspunctiliously honorable in private life. 

Of the simplest method of tampering with witnesses an instance is foundin a case which occurred while Sir Edward Coke was Chief Justice of theKing's Bench. Loitering about Westminster Hall, one of the parties in anaction stumbled upon the witness whose temporary withdrawal from theways of men he was most anxious to effect. With a perfect perception ofthe proper use of hospitality, he accosted this witness (a staring, open-mouthed countryman), with suitable professions of friendliness, andcarrying him into an adjacent tavern, set him down before a bottle ofwine. As soon as the sack had begun to quicken his guest's circulation, the crafty fellow hastened into court with the intelligence that thewitness, whom he had left drinking in a room not two hundred yardsdistant, was in a fit and lying at death's door. The court being askedto wait, the impudent rascal protested that to wait would be useless;and the Chief Justice, taking his view of the case, proceeded to givejudgment without hearing the most important evidence in the cause. 

In badgering a witness with noisy derision, no barrister of CharlesII. 's time could surpass George Jeffreys; but on more than one occasionthat gentleman, in his most overbearing moments, met with his master inthe witness whom he meant to brow-beat. "You fellow in the leatherndoublet, " he is said to have exclaimed to a countryman whom he was aboutto cross-examine, "Pray, what are you paid for swearing?" "God blessyou, sir, and make you an honest man, " answered the farmer, looking thebarrister full in the face, and speaking with a voice of heartygood-humor; "if you had no more for lying than I have for swearing, youwould wear a leather doublet as well as I. "

Sometimes Erskine's treatment of witnesses was very jocular, andsometimes very unfair; but his jocoseness was usually so distinct frommere flippant derisiveness, and his unfairness was redeemed by suchdelicacy of wit and courtesy of manner, that his most malicious _jeuxd'esprit_ seldom raised the anger of the witnesses at whom they wereaimed. A religious enthusiast objecting to be sworn in the usual manner, but stating that though he would not "kiss the book, " he would "hold uphis hand" and swear, Erskine asked him to give his reason for preferringso eccentric a way to the ordinary mode of giving testimony. "It iswritten in the book of Revelations, " answered the man, "that the angelstanding on the sea _held up his hand_. " "But that does not apply toyour case, " urged the advocate; "for in the first place, you are noangel; secondly, you cannot tell how the angel would have sworn if hehad stood on dry ground, as you do. " Not shaken by this reply, whichcannot be called unfair, and which, notwithstanding its jocoseness, wasexactly the answer which the gravest divine would have made to suchscruples, the witness persisted in his position; and on being permittedto give evidence in his own peculiar way, he had enough influence withthe jury to induce them to give a verdict adverse to Erskine's wishes. 

Less fair but more successful was Erskine's treatment of the commercialtraveller, who appeared in the witness box dressed in the height offashion, and wearing a starched white necktie folded with the 'Brummelfold. ' In an instant reading the character of the man, on whom he hadnever before set eyes, and knowing how necessary it was to put him in astate of extreme agitation and confusion, before touching on the factsconcerning which he had come to give evidence, Erskine rose, surveyedthe coxcomb, and said, with an air of careless amusement, "You were bornand bred in Manchester, _I perceive_. " Greatly astonished at thisopening remark, the man answered, nervously, that he was "a Manchesterman--born and bred in Manchester. " "Exactly, " observed Erskine, in aconversational tone, and as though he were imparting information to apersonal friend--"exactly so; I knew it from the absurd tie of yourneckcloth. " The roars of laughter which followed this rejoinder socompletely effected the speaker's purpose that the confounded bagmancould not tell his right hand from his left. Equally effective wasErskine's sharp question, put quickly to the witness, who, in an actionfor payment of a tailor's bill, swore that a certain dress-coat wasbadly made--one of the sleeves being longer than the other. "You will, "said Erskine, slowly, having risen to cross-examine, "swear--that one ofthe sleeves was--longer--than the other?" _Witness. _ "I do swear it. "_Erskine_, quickly, and with a flash of indignation, "Then, sir, I am tounderstand that you positively deny that one of the sleeves was_shorter_ than the other?" Startled into a self-contradiction by thesuddenness and impetuosity of this thrust, the witness said, "I do denyit. " _Erskine_, raising his voice as the tumultuous laughter died away, "Thank you, sir; I don't want to trouble you with another question. " Oneof Erskine's smartest puns referred to a question of evidence. "A case, "he observed, in a speech made during his latter years, "being laidbefore me by my veteran friend, the Duke of Queensbury--better known as'old Q'--as to whether he could sue a tradesman for breach of contractabout the painting of his house; and the evidence being totallyinsufficient to support the case, I wrote thus: 'I am of opinion thatthis action will not _lie_ unless the witnesses _do_. '" It is worthy ofnotice that this witticism was but a revival (with a modification) of apun attributed to Lord Chancellor Hatton in Bacon's 'Apophthegmes. '

In this country many years have elapsed since duels have taken placebetwixt gentlemen of the long robe, or between barristers and witnessesin consequence of words uttered in the heat of forensic strife; but inthe last century, and in the opening years of the present, it was novery rare occurrence for a barrister to be called upon for'satisfaction' by a person whom he had insulted in the course of hisprofessional duty. During George II. 's reign, young Robert Henley somercilessly badgered one Zephaniah Reeve, whom he had occasion tocross-examine in a trial at Bristol, that the infuriated witness--Quakerand peace-loving merchant though he was--sent his persecutor a challengeimmediately upon leaving court. Rather than incur the ridicule of 'goingout with a Quaker, ' and the sin of shooting at a man whom he hadactually treated with unjustifiable freedom, Henley retreated from anembarrassing position by making a handsome apology; and yearsafterwards, when he had risen to the woolsack, he entertained his oldacquaintance, Zephaniah Reeve, at a fashionable dinner-party, when heassembled guests were greatly amused by the Lord Chancellor's account ofthe commencement of his acquaintance with his Quaker friend. 

Between thirty and forty years later Thurlow was 'called out' by theDuke of Hamilton's agent, Mr. Andrew Stewart, whom he had grievouslyoffended by his conduct of the Great Douglas Case. On Jan. 14, 1769-1770, Thurlow and his adversary met in Hyde Park. On his way to theappointed place, the barrister stopped at a tavern near Hyde ParkCorner, and "ate an enormous breakfast, " after which preparation forbusiness, he hastened to the field of action. Accounts agree in sayingthat he behaved well upon the ground. Long after the bloodless_rencontre_, the Scotch agent, not a little proud of his 'affair' with afuture Lord Chancellor, said, "Mr. Thurlow advanced and stood up to melike an elephant. " But the elephant and the mouse parted without hurtingeach other; the encounter being thus faithfully described in the 'Scots'Magazine:' "On Sunday morning, January 14, the parties met with swordsand pistols, in Hyde Park, one of them having for his second hisbrother, Colonel S----, and the other having for his Mr. L----, memberfor a city in Kent. Having discharged pistols, at ten yards' distance, without effect, they drew their swords, but the seconds interposed, andput an end to the affair. "

One of the best 'Northern Circuit stories' pinned upon Lord Eldonrelates to a challenge which an indignant suitor is said to have sent toLaw and John Scott. In a trial at York that arose from a horse-race, itwas stated in evidence that one of the conditions of the race requiredthat "each horse should be ridden by a gentleman. " The race having beenrun, the holders refused to pay the stakes to the winner on the groundthat he was not a gentleman; whereupon the equestrian whose gentilitywas thus called in question brought an action for the money. After avery humorous inquiry, which terminated in a verdict for the defendants, the plaintiff _was said_ to have challenged the defendants' counsel. Messrs. Scott and Law, for maintaining that he was no gentleman; towhich invitation, it also averred, reply was made that the challengees"could not think of fighting one who had been found _no gentleman_ bythe solemn verdict of twelve of his countrymen. " Inquiry, however, hasdeprived this delicious story of much of its piquancy. Eldon had no partin the offence; and Law, who was the sole utterer of the obnoxiouswords, received no invitation to fight. "No message was sent, " says awriter, supposed to be Lord Brougham, in the 'Law Magazine, ' "and noattempt was made to provoke a breach of the peace. It is very possibleLord Eldon may have said, and Lord Ellenborough too, that they were notbound to treat one in such a predicament as a gentleman, and hence thestory has arisen in the lady's mind. The fact was as well known on theNorthern Circuit as the answer of a witness to a question, whether theparty had a right by his circumstances to keep a pack of fox-hounds; 'Nomore right than I to keep a pack of archbishops. '"

Curran is said to have received a call, before he left his bed onemorning, from a gentleman whom he had cross-examined with needlesscruelty and unjustifiable insolence on the previous day. "Sir!" saidthis irate man, presenting himself in Curran's bedroom, and rousing thebarrister from slumber to a consciousness that he was in a very awkwardposition, "I am the gintleman whom you insulted yesterday in HisMajesty's court of justice, in the presence of the whole county, and Iam here to thrash you soundly!" Thus speaking, the Herculean intruderwaved a horsewhip over the recumbent lawyer. "You don't mean to strike aman when he is lying down?" inquired Curran. "No, bedad; I'll just waittill you've got out of bed and then I'll give it to you sharp and fast. "Curran's eye twinkled mischievously as he rejoined: "If that's the case, by ---- I'll lie here all day. " So tickled was the visitor with thishumorous announcement, that he dropped his horsewhip, and dismissinganger with a hearty roar of laughter, asked the counsellor to shakehands with him. 

In the December of 1663, Pepys was present at a trial in Guildhallconcerning the fraud of a merchant-adventurer, who having insured hisvessel for £2400 when, together with her cargo, she was worth no morethan £500, had endeavored to wreck her off the French coast. FromPepys's record it appears that this was a novel piece of rascality atthat time, and consequently created lively sensation in general society, as well as in legal and commercial coteries. "All the great counsel inthe kingdom" were employed in the cause; and though maritime causesthen, as now, usually involved much hard swearing, the case was notablefor the prodigious amount of perjury which it elicited. For the mostpart the witnesses were sailors, who, besides swearing with stolidindifference to truth, caused much amusement by the incoherence of theirstatements and by their free use of nautical expressions, which werequite unintelligible to Chief Justice (Sir Robert) Hyde. "It was, " saysPepys, "pleasant to see what mad sort of testimonys the seamen did give, and could not be got to speak in order; and then their terms such as thejudge could not understand, and to hear how sillily the counsel andjudge would speak as to the terms necessary in the matter, would makeone laugh; and above all a Frenchman, that was forced to speak inFrench, and took an English oath he did not understand, and had aninterpreter sworn to tell us what he said, which was the best testimonyof all. " A century later Lord Mansfield was presiding at a trialconsequent upon a collision of two ships at sea, when a common sailor, whilst giving testimony, said, "At the time I was standing abaft thebinnacle;" whereupon his lordship, with a proper desire to master thefacts of the case, observed, "Stay, stay a minute, witness: you saythat at the time in question you were _standing abaft the binnacle_; nowtell me, where is abaft the binnacle?" This was too much for the gravityof 'the salt, ' who immediately before climbing into the witness-box hadtaken a copious draught of neat rum. Removing his eyes from the bench, and turning round upon the crowded court with an expression of intenseamusement, he exclaimed at the top of his voice, "He's a pretty fellowfor a judge! Bless my jolly old eyes!--[the reader may substitute afamiliar form of 'imprecation on eye-sight']--you have got a pretty sortof a land-lubber for a judge! He wants me to tell him where _abaft thebinnacle is_!" Not less amused than the witness, Lord Mansfieldrejoined, "Well, my friend, you must fit me for my office by telling mewhere _abaft the binnacle_ is; you've already shown me the meaning of_half seas over_. "

With less good-humor the same Chief Justice revenged himself on Dr. Brocklesby, who, whilst standing in the witness-box of the Court of King'sBench, incurred the Chief Justice's displeasure by referring to theirprivate intercourse. Some accounts say that the medical witness merelynodded to the Chief Justice, as he might have done with propriety had theybeen taking seats at a convivial table; other accounts, with lessappearance of probability, maintain that in a voice audible to the bar, hereminded the Chief Justice of certain jolly hours which they had spenttogether during the previous evening. Anyhow, Lord Mansfield was hurt, andshowed his resentment in his 'summing-up' by thus addressing the Jury:"The next witness is one _R_ocklesby, or _B_rocklesby--_B_rocklesby or_R_ocklesby, I am not sure which; and first, _he swears that he is aphysician_. "

On one occasion Lord Mansfield covered his retreat from an untenableposition with a sparkling pleasantry. An old witness named _Elm_ havinggiven his evidence with remarkable clearness, although he was more thaneighty years of age, Lord Mansfield examined him as to his habitual modeof living, and found that he had throughout life been an early riser anda singularly temperate man. "Ay, " observed the Chief Justice, in a toneof approval, "I have always found that without temperance and earlyhabits, longevity is never attained. " The next witness, the _elder_brother of this model of temperance, was then called, and he almostsurpassed his brother as an intelligent and clear-headed utterer ofevidence. "I suppose, " observed Lord Mansfield, "that you also are anearly riser. " "No, my lord, " answered the veteran, stoutly; "I like mybed at all hours, and special-_lie_ I like it of a morning. " "Ah; but, like your brother, you are a very temperate man?" quickly asked thejudge, looking out anxiously for the safety of the more important partof his theory. "My lord, " responded this ancient Elm, disdaining toplead guilty to a charge of habitual sobriety, "I am a very old man, andmy memory is as clear as a bell, but I can't remember the night whenI've gone to bed without being more or less drunk. " Lord Mansfield wassilent. "Ah, my lord, " Mr. Dunning exclaimed, "this old man's casesupports a theory upheld by many persons, that habitual intemperance isfavorable to longevity. " "No, no, " replied the Chief Justice, with asmile, "this old man and his brother merely teach us what everycarpenter knows--that Elm, whether it be wet or dry, is a very toughwood. " Another version of this excellent story makes Lord Mansfieldinquire of the elder Elm, "Then how do you account for your prolongedtenure of existence?" to which question Elm is made to respond, morelike a lawyer than a simple witness, "I account for it by the terms ofthe original lease. "

Few stories relating to witnesses are more laughable than that whichdescribes the arithmetical process by which Mr. Baron Perrot arrived atthe value of certain conflicting evidence. "Gentlemen of the jury, " thisjudge is reported to have said, in summing up the evidence in a trialwhere the witnesses had sworn with noble tenacity of purpose, "there arefifteen witnesses who swear that the watercourse used to flow in a ditchon the north side of the hedge. On the other hand, gentlemen, there arenine witnesses who swear that the watercourse used to flow on the southside of the hedge. Now, gentlemen, if you subtract nine from fifteen, there remain six witnesses wholly uncontradicted; and I recommend you togive your verdict for the party who called those six witnesses. "

Whichever of the half-dozen ways in which it is told be accepted as theright one, the following story exemplifies the difficulty whichoccasionally arises in courts of justice, when witnesses use provincialterms with which the judge is not familiar. Mr. William Russell, in pastdays deputy-surveyor of 'canny Newcastle, ' and a genuine Northumbrian indialect, brogue, and shrewdness, was giving his evidence at an importanttrial in the Newcastle court-house, when he said--"As I was going alongthe quay, I saw a hubbleshew coming out of a chare-foot. " Not aware thaton Tyne-side the word 'hubbleshew' meant 'a concourse of riotouspersons;' that the narrow alleys or lanes of Newcastle 'old town' werecalled by their inhabitants 'chares;' and that the lower end of eachalley, where it opened upon quay-side, was termed a 'chare-foot;' thejudge, seeing only one part of the puzzle, inquired the meaning of theword 'hubbleshew. ' "A crowd of disorderly persons, " answered thedeputy-surveyor. "And you mean to say, " inquired the judge of assize, with a voice and look of surprise, "that you saw a crowd of people comeout of a chair-foot?" "I do, my lord, " responded the witness. "Gentlemen of the jury, " said his lordship, turning to the 'twelve goodmen' in the box, "it must be needless for me to inform you--_that thiswitness is insane_!"

The report of a trial which occurred at Newcastle Assizes towards theclose of the last century gives the following succession of questionsand answers:--_Barrister. _--"What is your name?" _Witness. _--"Adam, sir--Adam Thompson. " _Barrister. _--"Where do you live?" _Witness. _--"InParadise. " _Barrister_ (with facetious tone). --"And pray, Mr. Adam, howlong have you dwelt in Paradise?" _Witness. _--"Ever since the flood. "Paradise is the name of a village in the immediate vicinity ofNewcastle; and 'the flood' referred to by the witness was the inundation(memorable in local annals) of the Tyne, which in the year 1771 sweptaway the old Tyne Bridge. 

CHAPTER XLIII. 

CIRCUITEERS. 

Exposed to some of the discomforts, if not all the dangers, [33] oftravel; required to ride over black and cheerless tracts of moor andheath: now belated in marshy districts, and now exchanging shots withgentlemen of the road; sleeping, as luck favored them, in way-sidetaverns, country mansions, or the superior hotels of provincialtowns--the circuiteers of olden time found their advantage incultivating social hilarity and establishing an etiquette thatencouraged good-fellowship in their itinerant societies. At an earlydate they are found varying the monotony of cross-country rides withracing-matches and drinking bouts, cock-fights and fox-hunting; andenlivening assize towns and country houses with balls and plays, frolicand song. A prodigious amount of feasting was perpetrated on an ordinarycircuit-round of the seventeenth century; and at circuit-messes, judges'dinners, and sheriffs' banquets, saucy juniors were allowed a license ofspeech to staid leaders and grave dignitaries that was altogetherexceptional to the prevailing tone of manners. 

In the days when Chief Justice Hyde, Clarendon's cousin, used to ridethe Norfolk Circuit, old Sergeant Earl was the leader, or, to use theslang of the period, 'cock of the round'. A keen, close-fisted, toughpractitioner, this sergeant used to ride from town to town, chucklingover the knowledge that he was earning more and spending less than anyother member of the circuit. One biscuit was all the refreshment whichhe permitted himself on the road from Cambridge to Norwich; although heconsented to dismount at the end of every ten miles to stretch hislimbs. Sidling up to Sergeant Earl, as there was no greater man for himto toady, Francis North offered himself as the old man's travellingcompanion from the university to the manufacturing town; and when Earlwith a grim smile accepted the courteous suggestion, the young mancongratulated himself. On the following morning, however, he had reasonto question his good fortune when the sergeant's clerk brought him acake, and remarked, significantly, "Put it in your pocket, sir; you'llwant it; for my master won't draw bit till he comes to Norwich. " It wasa hard day's work; but young Frank North was rewarded for his civilityto the sergeant, who condescended to instruct his apt pupil in thetricks and chicaneries of their profession. "Sir, " inquired North at theclose of the excursion, emboldened by the rich man's affability, "bywhat system do you keep your accounts, which must be very complex, asyou have lands, securities, and great comings-in of all kinds?""Accounts! boy, " answered the grey-headed curmudgeon; "I get as much asI can, and I spend as little as I can; that's how I keep my accounts. "

When North had raised himself to the Chiefship of the Common Pleas hechose the Western Circuit, "not for the common cause, it being a longcircuit, and beneficial for the officers and servants, but because heknew the gentlemen to be loyal and conformable, and that he should havefair quarter amongst them;" and so much favor did he win amongst theloyal and conformable gentry that old Bishop Mew--the prelate ofWinchester, popularly known as Bishop _Patch_, because he always wore apatch of black court-plaster over the scar of a wound which he receivedon one of his cheeks, whilst fighting as a trooper for Charles I. --usedto term him the "Deliciæ occidentis, or Darling of the West. " On oneoccasion this Darling of the West was placed in a ludicrous position bythe alacrity with which he accepted an invitation from "a busy fanatic, "a Devonshire gentleman, of good family, and estate, named Duke. This"busy fanatic" invited the judges on circuit and their officers to dineand sleep at his mansion on their way to Exeter, and subsequentlyscandalized his guests--all of them of course zealous defenders of theEstablished Church--by reading family-prayers before supper. "Thegentleman, " says the historian, "had not the manners to engage theparish minister to come and officiate with any part of the eveningservice before supper: but he himself got behind the table in his hall, and read a chapter, and then a long-winded prayer, after thePresbyterian way. " Very displeased were the Chief Justice and the otherJudge of Assize; and their dissatisfaction was not diminished on thefollowing day when on entering Exeter a rumor met them, that "the judgeshad been at a conventicle, and the grand jury intended to present themand all their retinue for it. "

Not many years elapsed before this Darling of the West was replaced, byanother Chief Justice who asserted the power of constituted authoritieswith an energy that roused more fear than gratitude in the breasts oflocal magistrates. That grim, ghastly, hideous progress, which Jeffreysmade in the plenitude of civil and military power through the WesternCounties, was not without its comic interludes; and of its lessrepulsive scenes none was more laughable than that which occurred inBristol Courthouse when the terrible Chief Justice upbraided the Bristolmagistrates for taking part in a slave-trade of the most odious sort. The mode in which the authorities of the western port carried on theiriniquitous traffic deserves commemoration, for no student can understandthe history of any period until he has acquainted himself with itsprevailing morality. At a time when by the wealth of her merchants andthe political influence of her inhabitants Bristol was the second cityof England, her mayor and aldermen used daily to sit in judgment onyoung men and growing boys, who were brought before them and chargedwith trivial offences. Some of the prisoners had actually broken thelaw: but in a large proportion of the cases the accusations were totallyfictitious--the arrests having been made in accordance with thedirections of the magistrates, on charges which the magistratesthemselves knew to be utterly without foundation. Every morning theBristol tolsey or court-house saw a crowd of those wretchedcaptives--clerks out of employment, unruly apprentices, street boyswithout parents, and occasionally children of honest birth, ay, ofpatrician lineage, whose prompt removal from their native land wasdesired by brutal fathers or vindictive guardians; and every morning amockery of judicial investigation was perpetrated in the name ofjustice. Standing in a crowd the prisoners were informed of the offencescharged against them; huddled together in the dock, like cattle in apen, they caught stray sentences from the lips of the perjured rascalswho had seized them in the public ways; and whilst they thus in a frenzyof surprise and fear listened to the statements of counsel for theprosecution, and to the fabrications of lying witnesses, agents of thecourt whispered to them that if they wished to save their lives theymust instantly confess their guilt, and implore the justices totransport them to the plantations. Ignorant, alarmed, and powerless, themiserable victims invariably acted on this perfidious counsel; andforthwith the magistrates ordered their shipment to the West Indies, where they were sold as slaves--the money paid for them by West Indiaplanters in due course finding its way into the pockets of the Bristoljustices. It is asserted that the wealthier aldermen, through caution, or those few grains of conscience which are often found in the breastsof consummate rogues, forbore to share in the gains of this abominabletraffic; but it cannot be gainsaid that the least guilty magistrateswinked at the atrocious conduct of their brother-justices. 

Vowing vengeance on the Bristol kidnappers Jeffreys entered theircourt-house, and opened proceedings by crying aloud that "he had broughta broom to sweep them with. " The Mayor of Bristol was in those days nocommon mayor; in Assize Commissions his name was placed before thenames of Judges of Assize; and even beyond the limits of hisjurisdiction he was a man of mark and influence. Great therefore wasthis dignitary's astonishment when Jeffreys ordered him--clothed as hewas in official scarlet and furs--to stand in the dock. For a fewseconds the local potentate demurred; but when the Chief Justice pouredupon him a cataract of blasphemy, and vowed to hang him instantly overthe entrance to the tolsey unless he complied immediately, thehumiliated chief magistrate of the ancient borough took his place at thefelon's bar, and received such a rating as no thief, murderer or rebelhad ever heard from George Jeffrey's abusive mouth. Unfortunately theaffair ended with the storm. Until the arrival of William of Orange theguilty magistrates were kept in fear of criminal prosecution; but thematter was hushed up and covered with amnesty by the new government; sothat "the fright only, which was no small one, was all the punishmentwhich these judicial kidnappers underwent; and the gains, " says RogerNorth, "acquired by so wicked a trade, rested peacefully in theirpockets. " It should be remembered that the kidnapping justices whom theodious Jeffreys so indignantly denounced were tolerated and courted bytheir respectable and prosperous neighbors; and some of the worstcharges, by which the judge's fame has been rendered odious toposterity, depend upon the evidence of men who, if they were notkidnappers themselves, saw nothing peculiarly atrocious in the conductof magistrates who systematically sold their fellow-countrymen into amost barbarous slavery. 

Amongst old circuit stories of questionable truthfulness there is asingular anecdote recorded by the biographers of Chief Justice Hale, who, whilst riding the Western Circuit, tried a half-starved lad on acharges of burglary. The prisoner had been shipwrecked upon the Cornishcoast, and on his way through an inhospitable district had endured thepangs of extreme hunger. In his distress, the famished wanderer brokethe window of a baker's shop and stole a loaf of bread. Under thecircumstances, Hale directed the jury to acquit the prisoner: but, lessmerciful than the judge, the gentlemen of the box returned a verdict of'Guilty'--a verdict which the Chief Justice stoutly refused to act upon. After much resistance, the jurymen were starved into submission; and theyouth was set at liberty. Several years elapsed; and Chief Justice Halewas riding the Northern Circuit, when he was received with such costlyand excessive pomp by the sheriff of a northern county, that heexpostulated with his entertainer on the lavish profuseness of hisconduct. "My lord, " answered the sheriff, with emotion, "don't blame mefor showing my gratitude to the judge who saved my life when I was anoutcast. Had it not been for you, I should have been hanged in Cornwallfor stealing a loaf, instead of living to be the richest landowner of mynative county. "

A sketch of circuit-life in the middle of the last century may be foundin 'A Northern Circuit, Described in a Letter to a Friend: a PoeticalEssay. By a Gentleman of the Middle Temple. 1751. '--a piece of doggrelthat will meet with greater mercy from the antiquary than the poeticalcritic. 

In seeking to avoid the customary exactions of their office, thesheriffs of the present generation were only following in the steps ofsheriffs who, more than a century past, exerted themselves to reduce theexpenses of shrievalties, and whose economical reforms were defended byreference to the conduct of sheriffs under the last of the Tudors. --Inthe days of Elizabeth, the sheriffs demanded and obtained relief from anobligation to supply judges on circuit, with food and lodging; underVictoria they have recently exclaimed against the custom which requiredthem to furnish guards of javelin-bearers for the protection of HerMajesty's representatives; when George II. Was king, they grumbledagainst lighter burdens--for instance, the cost of white kid-gloves andpayments to bell-ringers. The sheriff is still required by custom topresent the judges with white gloves whenever an assize has been heldwithout a single capital conviction; but in past times, on every_maiden_ assize, he was expected to give gloves not only to the judges, but to the entire body of circuiteers--barristers as well as officers ofcourt. [34] Wishing to keep his official expenditure down to the lowestpossible sum, a certain sheriff for Cumberland--called in 'A NorthernCircuit, ' Sir Frigid Gripus Knapper--directed his under-sheriff not togive white gloves on the occasion of a maiden assize at Carlisle, andalso through the mouth of his subordinate, declined to pay the officersof the circuit certain customary fees. To put the innovator to shame, Sir William Gascoigne, the judge before whom the case was laid, observedin open court, "Though I can compel an immediate payment, it being ademand of right, and not a mere gift, yet I will set him an example bygifts which I might refuse, but will not, because they are customary, "and forthwith addressing the steward, added--"Call the sheriff'scoachman, his pages, and musicians, singing-boys, and vergers, and givethem the accustomed gifts as soon as the sheriff comes. " From thisdirection, readers may see that under the old system of presents a judgewas compelled to give away with his left hand much of that which heaccepted with his right. It appears that Sir William Gascoigne's conducthad the desired effect; for as soon as the sheriff made his appearance, he repudiated the parsimonious conduct of the under-sheriff--though itis not credible that the subordinate acted without the direction orconcurrence of his superior. "I think it, " observed the sheriff, inreference to the sum of the customary payments, "as much for the honorof my office, and the country in general, as it is justice to those towhom it is payable; and if any sheriff has been of a different opinionit shall never bias me. "

From the days when Alexander Wedderburn, in his new silk gown, to thescandal of all sticklers for professional etiquette, made a daring butfutile attempt to seize the lead of the circuit which seventeen yearslater he rode as judge, 'The Northern' had maintained the _prestige_ ofbeing the most important of the English circuits. Its palmiest and mostfamous days belong to the times of Norton and Wallace, Jack Lee and JohnScott, Edward Law and Robert Graham; but still amongst the wise whiteheads of the upper house may be seen at times the mobile features of anaged peer who, as Mr. Henry Brougham, surpassed in eloquence andintellectual brilliance the brightest and most celebrated of hisprecursors on the great northern round. But of all the great men whosenames illustrate the annals of the circuit, Lord Eldon is the personmost frequently remembered in connexion with the jovial ways ofcircuiteers in the old time. In his later years the port-loving earldelighted to recall the times when as Attorney General of the CircuitGrand Court he used to prosecute offenders 'against the peace of ourLord the Junior, ' devise practical jokes for the diversion of the bar, and over bowls of punch at York, Lancaster, or Kirkby Lonsdale, argueperplexing questions about the morals of advocacy. Just as JohnCampbell, thirty years later, used to recount with glee how in the mockcourts of the Oxford Circuit he used to officiate as crier, "holding afire-shovel in his hand as the emblem of his office;" so did old LordEldon warm with mirth over recollections of his circuit revelries andescapades. Many of his stories were apocryphal, some of themunquestionably spurious; but the least truthful of them contained anelement of pleasant reality. Of course Jemmy Boswell, a decent lawyer, though better biographer, was neither duped by the sham brief, norinduced to apply in court for the writ of 'quare adhaesit pavimento;'but it is quite credible that on the morning after his removal in acondition of vinous prostration from the Lancaster flagstones, hisjocose friends concocted the brief, sent it to him with a bad guinea, and proclaimed the success of their device. When the chimney-sweeper'sboy met his death by falling from a high gallery to the floor of thecourt-house at the York Assizes, whilst Sir Thomas Davenport wasspeaking, it was John Scott who--arguing that the orator's dullness hadsent the boy to sleep, and so caused his fatal fall--prosecuted SirThomas for murder in the High Court, alleging in the indictment that thedeath was produced by a "certain blunt instrument of _no value_, calleda _long speech_. " The records of the Northern Circuit abound withtestimony to the hearty zeal with which the future Chancellor took partin the proceedings of the Grand Court--paying fines and imposing themwith equal readiness, now upholding with mock gravity the high andmajestic character of the presiding judge, and at another timeinveighing against the levity and indecorum of a learned brother who hadmaintained in conversation that "no man would be such a----fool as to goto a lawyer for advice who knew how to get on without it. " The monstrousoffender against religion and propriety who gave utterance to thisexecrable sentiment was Pepper Arden (subsequently Master of the Rollsand Lord Alvanley), and his punishment is thus recorded in the archivesof the circuit:--"In this he was considered as doubly culpable, in thefirst place as having offended, against the laws of Almighty God by hisprofane cursing; for which, however, he made a very sufficient atonementby paying a bottle of claret; and secondly, as having made use of anexpression which, if it should become a prevailing opinion, might havethe most alarming consequences to the profession, and was thereforedeservedly considered in a far more hideous light. For the last offencehe was fin'd 3 bottles. Pd. "

One of the most ridiculous circumstances over which the Northern Circuitmen of the last generation delighted to laugh occurred at Newcastle, when Baron Graham--the poor lawyer, but a singularly amiable and placidman, of whom Jeckyll observed, "no one but his sempstress could rufflehim"--rode the circuit, and was immortalized as 'My Lord 'Size, ' in Mr. John Shield's capital song--

 "The jailor, for trial had brought up a thief, Whose looks seemed a passport for Botany Bay; The lawyers, some with and some wanting a brief, Around the green table were seated so gay; Grave jurors and witnesses waiting a call; Attorneys and clients, more angry than wise; With strangers and town-people, throng'd the Guildhall, All watching and gaping to see my Lord 'Size. 

 "Oft stretch'd were their necks, oft erected their ears, Still fancying they heard of the trumpets the sound, When tidings arriv'd, which dissolv'd them in tears, That my lord at the dead-house was then lying drown'd. Straight left _tête-a-tête_ were the jailor and thief; The horror-struck crowd to the dead-house quick hies; Ev'n the lawyers, forgetful of fee and of brief, Set off helter-skelter to view my Lord 'Size. 

 "And now the Sandhill with the sad tidings rings, And the tubs of the taties are left to take care; Fishwomen desert their crabs, lobsters, and lings, And each to the dead-house now runs like a hare; The glassmen, some naked, some clad, heard the news, And off they ran, smoking like hot mutton pies; Whilst Castle Garth tailors, like wild kangaroos, Came tail-on-end jumping to see my Lord 'Size. 

 "The dead-house they reach'd, where his lordship they found, Pale, stretch'd on a plank, like themselves out of breath, The coroner and jury were seated around, Most gravely enquiring the cause of his death. No haste did they seem in, their task to complete, Aware that from hurry mistakes often rise; Or wishful, perhaps, of prolonging the treat Of thus sitting in judgment upon my Lord 'Size. 

 "Now the Mansion House butler, thus gravely deposed:-- 'My lord on the terrace seem'd studying his charge And when (as I thought) he had got it compos'd, He went down the stairs and examined the barge; First the stem he surveyed, then inspected the stern, Then handled the tiller, and looked mighty wise; But he made a false step when about to return, And souse in the river straight tumbled Lord 'Size. '

 "'Now his narrative ended, the butler retir'd, Whilst Betty Watt, muttering half drunk through her teeth, Declar'd 'in her breast great consarn it inspir'd, That my lord should sae cullishly come by his death;' Next a keelman was called on, Bold Airchy by name, Who the book as he kissed showed the whites of his eyes, Then he cut an odd caper attention to claim, And this evidence gave them respecting Lord 'Size;--

 "Aw was settin' the keel, wi' Dick Slavers an' Matt, An' the Mansion House stairs we were just alongside, When we a' three see'd somethin', but didn't ken what, That was splashin' and labberin', aboot i' the tide. 'It's a fluiker, ' ki Dick; 'No, ' ki Matt, 'its owre big, It luik'd mair like a skyet when aw furst seed it rise;' Kiv aw--for aw'd getten a gliff o' the wig-- 'Ods marcy! wey, marrows, becrike, it's Lord 'Size. 

 "'Sae aw huik'd him, an' haul'd him suin into the keel, An' o' top o' the huddock aw rowl'd him aboot; An' his belly aw rubb'd, an' aw skelp'd his back weel, But the water he'd druck'n it wadn't run oot; So aw brought him ashore here, an' doctor's, in vain, Furst this way, then that, to recover him tries; For ye see there he's lyin' as deed as a stane, An' that's a' aw can tell ye aboot my Lord 'Size. '

 "Now the jury for close consultation retir'd: Some '_Death Accidental_' were willing to find; 'God's Visitation' most eager requir'd; And some were for 'Fell in the River' inclin'd; But ere on their verdict they all were agreed, My Lord gave a groan, and wide opened his eyes; Then the coach and the trumpeters came with great speed, And back to the Mansion House carried Lord 'Size. "

Amongst memorable Northern Circuit worthies was George Wood, thecelebrated Special Pleader, in whose chambers Law, Erskine, Abbott and amob of eminent lawyers acquired a knowledge of their profession. It ison record that whilst he and Mr. Holroyde were posting the Northernround, they were accosted on a lonely heath by a well-mounted horseman, who reining in his steed asked the barrister "What o'clock it was?"Favorably impressed by the stranger's appearance and tone of voice, Woodpulled out his valuable gold repeater, when the highwayman presenting apistol, and putting it on the cock, said coolly, "_As you have_ a watch, be kind enough to give it me, so that I may not have occasion to troubleyou again about the time. " To demur was impossible; the lawyer, therefore, who had met his disaster by _going to the country_, meeklysubmitted to circumstances and surrendered the watch. For the loss of anexcellent gold repeater he cared little, but he winced under the banterof his professional brethren, who long after the occurrence used tosmile with malicious significance as they accosted him with--"What's thetime, Wood?"

Another of the memorable Northern circuiteers was John Hullock, who, like George Wood, became a baron of the Exchequer, and of whom thefollowing story is told on good authority. In an important cause triedupon the Northern Circuit, he was instructed by the attorney whoretained him as leader on one side not to produce a certain deed unlesscircumstances made him think that without its production his clientwould lose the suit. On perusing the deed entrusted to him with thisremarkable injunction, Hullock saw that it established his client'scase, and wishing to dispatch the business with all possiblepromptitude, he produced the parchment before its exhibition wasdemanded by necessity. Examination instantly detected the spuriouscharacter of the deed, which had been fabricated by the attorney. Ofcourse the presiding judge (Sir John Bayley) ordered the deed to beimpounded; but before the order was carried out, Mr. Hullock obtainedpermission to inspect it again. Restored to his hands, the deed wasforthwith replaced in his bag. "You must surrender that deed instantly, "exclaimed the judge, seeing Hullock's intention to keep it. "My lord, "returned the barrister, warmly, "no power on earth shall induce me tosurrender it. I have incautiously put the life of a fellow-creature inperil; and though I acted to the best of my discretion, I should neverbe happy again were a fatal result to ensue. " At a loss to decide on theproper course of action, Mr. Justice Bayley retired from court toconsult with his learned brother. On his lordship's reappearance incourt, Mr. Hullock--who had also left the court for a brief period--toldhim that during his absence the forged deed had been destroyed. Theattorney escaped; the barrister became a judge. 

[33] Lord Eldon, when he was handsome Jack Scott of the NorthernCircuit, was about to make a short cut over the sands from Ulverstone toLancaster at the of the tide, when he was restrained from acting on hisrash resolve by the representations of an hotel keeper. "Danger, danger, " asked Scott, impatiently--"have you ever _lost_ anybody there?"Mine host answered slowly, "Nae, sir, nae body has been _lost_ on thesands, _the puir bodies have been found at low water_. "

[34] With regard to the customary gifts of white gloves Mr. Fosssays:--"Gloves were presented to the judges on some occasions: viz. , when a man, convicted for murder, or manslaughter, came and pleaded theking's pardon; and, till the Act of 4 & 5 William and Mary c. 18, whichrendered personal appearance unnecessary, an outlawry could not bereversed, unless the defendant came into court, and with a present ofgloves to the judges implored their favor to reverse it. The custom ofgiving the judge a pair of white gloves upon a maiden assize hascontinued till the present time. " An interesting chapter might bewritten on the ancient ceremonies and usages obsolete and extant, of ourcourts of law. Here are a few of the practices which such a chapterwould properly notice:--The custom, still maintained, which forbids theLord Chancellor to utter any word or make any sign, when on Lord Mayor'sDay the Lord Mayor of London enters the Court of Chancery, and by themouth of the Recorder prays his lordship to honor the Guildhall banquetwith his presence; the custom--extant so late as Lord Brougham'sChancellorship--which required the Holder of the Seals, at theinstallation of a new Master of Chancery, to install the new master byplacing a cap or hat on his head; the custom which in Charles II. 'stime, on motion days at the Chancellor's, compelled all barristersmaking motions to contribute to his lordship's 'Poor's Box'--barristerswithin the bar paying two shillings, and outer barristers oneshilling--the contents of which box were periodically given tomagistrates, for distribution amongst the deserving poor of London; thecustom which required a newly-created judge to present his colleagueswith biscuits and wine; the barbarous custom which compelled prisonersto plead their defence, standing in fetters, a custom enforced by ChiefJustice Pratt at the trial of the Jacobite against Christopher Layer, although at the of trial of Cranburne for complicity in the'Assassination Plot, ' Holt had enunciated the merciful maxim, "When theprisoners are tried they should stand at ease;" the custom which--indays when forty persons died of gaol fever caught at the memorable BlackSessions (May, 1759) at the Old Bailey, when Captain Clark was tried forkilling Captain Innes in a duel--strewed rue, fennel, and other herbs onthe ledge of the dock, in the faith that the odor of the herbage wouldact as a barrier to the poisonous exhalations from prisoners sick ofgaol distemper, and would protect the assembly in the body of the courtfrom the contagion of the disease. 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

LAWYERS AND SAINTS. 

Notwithstanding the close connexion which in old times existed betweenthe Church and the Law, popular sentiment holds to the opinion that theways of lawyers are far removed from the ways of holiness, and that thedifficulties encountered by wealthy travellers on the road to heaven arefar greater with rich lawyers than with any other class of rich men. Anold proverb teaches that wearers of the long robe never reach paradise_per saltum_, but 'by slow degrees;' and an irreverent ballad supportsthe vulgar belief that the only attorney to be found on the celestialrolls gained admittance to the blissful abode more by artifice thandesert. The ribald broadside runs in the following style:---

 "Professions will abuse each other; The priests won't call the lawyer brother; While _Salkeld_ still beknaves the parson, And says he cants to keep the farce on. Yet will I readily suppose They are not truly bitter foes, But only have their pleasant jokes, And banter, just like other folks. And thus, for so they quiz the law, Once on a time th' Attorney Flaw, A man to tell you, as the fact is, Of vast chicane, of course of practice; (But what profession can we trace Where none will not the corps disgrace? Seduced, perhaps, by roguish client, Who tempt him to become more pliant), A notice had to quit the world, And from his desk at once was hurled. Observe, I pray, the plain narration: 'Twas in a hot and long vacation, When time he had but no assistance. Tho' great from courts of law the distance, To reach the court of truth and justice (Where I confess my only trust is); Though here below the special pleader Shows talents worthy of a leader, Yet his own fame he must support, Be sometimes witty with the court Or word the passion of a jury By tender strains, or full of fury; Misleads them all, tho' twelve apostles, While with the new law the judge he jostles, And makes them all give up their powers To speeches of at least three hours-- But we have left our little man, And wandered from our purpos'd plan: 'Tis said (without ill-natured leaven) "If ever lawyers get to heaven, It surely is by slow degrees" (Perhaps 'tis slow they take their fees). The case, then, now I fairly state: Flaw reached at last to heaven's high gate; Quite short he rapped, none did it neater; The gate was opened by St. Peter, Who looked astonished when he saw, All black, the little man of law; But charity was Peter's guide. For having once himself denied His master, he would not o'erpass The penitent of any class; Yet never having heard there entered A lawyer, nay, nor ever ventured Within the realms of peace and love, He told him mildly to remove, And would have closed the gate of day, Had not old Flaw, in suppliant way, Demurring to so hard a fate, Begg'd but a look, tho' through the gate. St. Peter, rather off his guard, Unwilling to be thought too hard, Opens the gate to let him peep in. What did the lawyer? Did he creep in? Or dash at once to take possession? Oh no, he knew his own profession: He took his hat off with respect, And would no gentle means neglect; But finding it was all in vain For him admittance to obtain, Thought it were best, let come what will, To gain an entry by his skill. So while St. Peter stood aside, To let the door be opened wide, He skimmed his hat with all his strength Within the gate to no small length. St. Peter stared; the lawyer asked him "Only to fetch his hat, " and passed him; But when he reached the jack he'd thrown, Oh, then was all the lawyer shown; He clapt it on, and arms akembo (As if he had been the gallant Bembo), Cry'd out--'What think you of my plan? Eject me, Peter, if you can. '"

The celestial courts having devised no process of ejectment that couldbe employed in this unlooked-for emergency, St. Peter hastily withdrewto take counsel's opinion; and during his absence Mr. Flaw firmlyestablished himself in the realms of bliss, where he remains to this daythe black sheep of the saintly family. 

But though a flippant humorist in these later times could deride thelawyer as a character who had better not force his way into heaven, since he would not find a single personal acquaintance amongst itsinhabitants, in more remote days lawyers achieved the honors ofcanonization, and our forefathers sought their saintly intercession withdevout fervor. Our calendars still regard the 15th of July as a sacredday, in memory of the holy Swithin, who was tutor to King Ethelwulf andKing Alfred, and Chancellor of England, and who certainly deserved hiselevation to the fellowship of saints, even had his title to the honorrested solely on a remarkable act which he performed in the exercise ofhis judicial functions. A familiar set of nursery rhymes sets forth theutter inability of all the King's horses and men to reform the shatteredHumpty-Dumpty, when his rotund highness had fallen from a wall; but whena wretched market-woman, whose entire basketful of new-laid eggs hadbeen wilfully smashed by an enemy, sought in her trouble the aid ofChancery, the holy Chancellor Swithin miraculously restored each brokenshell to perfect shape, each yolk to soundness. Saith William ofMalmesbury, recounting this marvellous achievement--"statimque porrectocrucis signo, fracturam omnium ovorum consolidat. "

Like Chancellor Swithin before him, and like Chancellor Wolsey in alater time, Chancellor Becket was a royal tutor;[35] and like Swithin, who still remains the pluvious saint of humid England, and unlikeWolsey, who just missed the glory of canonization, Becket became awidely venerated saint. But less kind to St. Thomas of Canterbury thanto St. Swithin, the Reformation degraded Becket from the saintly rank bythe decision which terminated the ridiculous legal proceedingsinstituted by Henry VIII. Against the holy reputation of St. Thomas. After the saint's counsel had replied to the Attorney-General, who, ofcourse, conducted the cause for the crown, the court declared that"Thomas, sometime Archbishop of Canterbury, had been guilty ofcontumacy, treason and rebellion; that his bones should be publiclyburnt, to admonish the living of their duty by the punishment of thedead; and that the offerings made at his shrine should be forfeited tothe crown. "

After the conclusion of the suit for the saint's degradation--a suitwhich was an extravagant parody of the process for establishing at Romea holy man's title to the honors of canonization--proclamation was madethat "forasmuch as it now clearly appeared that Thomas Becket had beenkilled in a riot excited by his own obstinacy and intemperate language, and had been afterwards canonized by the Bishop of Rome as the championof his usurped authority, the king's majesty thought it expedient todeclare to his loving subjects that he was no saint, but rather a rebeland traitor to his prince, and therefore strictly charged and commandedthat he should not be esteemed or called a saint; that all images andpictures of him should be destroyed, the festivals in his honor beabolished, and his name and remembrance be erased out of all books, under pain of his majesty's indignation and imprisonment at his grace'spleasure. "

But neither St. Swithin nor St. Thomas of Canterbury, lawyers thoughthey were, deigned to take the legal profession under especialprotection, and to mediate with particular officiousness between thelong robe and St. Peter. The peculiar saint of the profession was St. Evona, concerning whom Carr, in his 'Remarks of the Government of theSeverall Parts of Germanie, Denmark, &c. , ' has the following passage:And now because I am speaking of Petty-foggers, give me leave to tellyou a story I mett with when I lived in Rome. Goeing with a Romane tosee some antiquityes, he showed me a chapell dedicated to St. Evona, alawyer of Brittanie, who, he said, came to Rome to entreat the Pope togive the lawyers of Brittanie a patron, to which the Pope replied, thathe knew of no saint but what was disposed to other professions. At whichEvona was very sad, and earnestly begd of the Pope to think of one forhim. At last the Pope proposed to St. Evona that he should go round thechurch of St. John de Latera blindfold, and after he had said so manyAve Marias, that the first saint he laid hold of should be his patron, which the good old lawyer willingly undertook, and at the end of his AveMaryes he stopt at St. Michael's altar, where he layed hold of theDivell, under St. Michael's feet, and cry'd out, this is our saint, lethim be our patron. So being unblindfolded, and seeing what a patron hehad chosen, he went to his lodgings so dejected, that a few monethsafter he died, and coming to heaven's gates knockt hard. Whereupon St. Peter asked who it was that knockt so bouldly. He replied that he wasSt. Evona the advocate. Away, away, said St. Peter, here is but oneadvocate in Heaven; here is no room for you lawyers. O but, said St. Evona, I am that honest lawyer who never tooke fees on both sides, orpleaded in a bad cause, nor did I ever set my Naibours together by theears, or lived by the sins of the People. Well, then, said St. Peter, come in. This newes coming down to Rome, a witty poet wrote on St. Evona's tomb these words:--

 'St. Evona un Briton, Advocat non Larron. Hallelujah. '

This story put me in mind of Ben Jonson goeing throw a church in Surrey, seeing poore people weeping over a grave, asked one of the women whythey wept. Oh, said shee, we have lost our pretious lawyer, JusticeRandall; he kept us all in peace, and always was so good as to keep usfrom goeing to law; the best man ever lived. Well, said Ben Jonson, Iwill send you an epitaph to write upon his tomb, which was--

 'God works wonders now and then, Here lies a lawyer an honest man. '

An important vestige of the close relations which formerly existedbetween the Law and the Church is still found in the ecclesiasticalpatronage of the Lord Chancellor; and many are the good stories told ofinterviews that took place between our more recent chancellors andclergymen suing for preferment. "Who sent you, sir?" Thurlow askedsavagely of a country curate, who had boldly forced his way into theChancellor's library in Great Ormond Street, in the hope of winning thepresentation to a vacant living. "In whose _name_ do you come, that youventure to pester me about your private affairs? I say, sir--what greatlords sent you to bother me in my house?" "My Lord, " answered theapplicant, with a happy combination of dignity and humor, "no great mansupports my entreaty; but I may say with honesty, that I come to you inthe name of the Lord of Hosts. " Pleased by the spirit and wit of thereply, Thurlow exclaimed, "The Lord of Hosts! the Lord of Hosts! you arethe first parson that ever applied to me in that Lord's name; and thoughhis title can't be found in the Peerage, by ---- you shall have theliving. " On another occasion the same Chancellor was less benign, butnot less just to a clerical applicant. Sustained by Queen Charlotte'spersonal favor and intercession with Thurlow, the clergyman in questionfelt so sure of obtaining the valuable living which was the object ofhis ambition, that he regarded his interview with the Chancellor as apurely formal affair. "I have, sir, " observed Lord Thurlow, "received aletter from the curate of the parish to which it is my intention toprefer you, and on inquiry I find him to be a very worthy man. Thefather of a large family, and a priest who has labored zealously in theparish for many years, he has written to me--not asking for the living, but modestly entreating me to ask the new rector to retain him ascurate. Now, sir, you would oblige me by promising me to employ the poorman in that capacity. " "My lord, " replied Queen Charlotte's pastor, "itwould give me great pleasure to oblige your lordship in this matter, butunfortunately I have arranged to take a personal friend for my curate. "His eyes flashing angrily, Thurlow answered, "Sir, I cannot force you totake this worthy man for your curate, but I can make him the rector; andby ---- he shall have the living, and be in a position to offer you thecuracy. "

Of Lord Loughborough a reliable biographer records a pleasant andsingular story. Having pronounced a decision in the House of Lords, which deprived an excellent clergyman of a considerable estate andreduced him to actual indigence, the Chancellor, before quitting thewoolsack, addressed the unfortunate suitor thus:--"As a judge I havedecided against you, whose virtues are not unknown to me; and inacknowledgment of those virtues I beg you to accept from me apresentation to a living now vacant, and worth £600 per annum. "

Capital also are the best of many anecdotes concerning Eldon and hisecclesiastical patronage. Dating the letter from No. 2, CharlotteStreet, Pimlico, the Chancellor's eldest son sent his father thefollowing anonymous epistle:--

 "Hear, generous lawyer! hear my prayer, Nor let my freedom make, you stare, In hailing you Jack Scott! Tho' now upon the woolsack placed, With wealth, with power, with title graced, _Once_ nearer was our lot. 

 "Say by what name the hapless bard May best attract your kind regard-- Plain Jack?--Sir John?--or Eldon? Give from your ample store of giving, A starving priest some little living-- The world will cry out 'Well done. '

 "In vain, without a patron's aid, I've prayed and preached, and preached and prayed-- _Applauded_ but _ill-fed_. Such vain _éclat_ let others share; Alas, I cannot feed on air-- I ask not _praise_, but _bread_. "

Satisfactorily hoaxed by the rhymer, the Chancellor went to Pimlico insearch of the clerical poetaster, and found him not. 

Prettier and less comic is the story of Miss Bridge's morning call uponLord Eldon. The Chancellor was sitting in his study over a table ofpapers when a young and lovely girl--slightly rustic in her attire, slightly embarrassed by the novelty of her position, but thoroughly incommand of her wits--entered the room, and walked up to the lawyer'schair. "My dear, " said the Chancellor, rising and bowing with old-worldcourtesy, "who _are_ you?" "Lord Eldon, " answered the blushing maiden, "I am Bessie Bridge of Weobly, the daughter of the Vicar of Weobly, andpapa has sent me to remind you of a promise which you made him when Iwas a little baby, and you were a guest in his house on the occasion ofyour first election as member of Parliament for Weobly. " "A promise, mydear young lady?" interposed the Chancellor, trying to recall how he hadpledged himself. "Yea, Lord Eldon, a promise. You were standing over mycradle when papa said to you, 'Mr. Scott, promise me that if ever youare Lord Chancellor, when my little girl is a poor clergyman's wife, youwill give her husband a living;' and you answered, 'Mr. Bridge, mypromise is not worth half-a-crown, but I give it to you, wishing it wereworth more. '" Enthusiastically the Chancellor exclaimed, "You are quiteright. I admit the obligation. I remember all about it;" and, then, after a pause, archly surveying the damsel, whose graces were thereverse of matronly, he added, "But surely the time for keeping mypromise has not yet arrived? You cannot be any one's wife at present?"For a few seconds Bessie hesitated for an answer, and then, with a blushand a ripple of silver laughter she replied, "No, but I do so wish to be_somebody's_ wife. I am engaged to a young clergyman; and there's aliving in Herefordshire near my old home that has recently fallenvacant, and if you'll give it to Alfred, why then, Lord Eldon, we shallmarry before the end of the year. " Is there need to say that theChancellor forthwith summoned his Secretary, that the secretaryforthwith made out the presentation to Bessie's lover, and that havinggiven the Chancellor a kiss of gratitude, Bessie made good speed back toHerefordshire, hugging the precious document the whole way home?

A bad but eager sportsman, Lord Eldon used to blaze away at hispartridges and pheasants with such uniform want of success that LordStowell had truth as well as humor on his side when he observed, "Mybrother has done much execution this shooting season; with his gun hehas _killed a great deal of time_. " Having ineffectually discharged twobarrels at a covey of partridges, the Chancellor was slowly walking tothe gate of one of his Encome turnip-fields when a stranger of clericalgarb and aspect hailed him from a distance, asking, "Where is LordEldon?" Not anxious to declare himself to the witness of his ludicrouslybad shot, the Chancellor answered evasively, and with scant courtesy, "Not far off. " Displeased with the tone of this curt reply, theclergyman rejoined, "I wish you'd use your tongue to better purpose thanyou do your gun, and tell me civily where I can find the Chancellor. ""Well, " responded the sportsman, when he had slowly approached hisquestioner, "here you see the Chancellor--I am Lord Eldon. " It was anuntoward introduction to the Chancellor for the strange clergyman whohad traveled from the North of Lancashire to ask for the presentation toa vacant living. Partly out of humorous compassion for the applicant whohad offered rudeness, if not insult to the person whom he was mostanxious to propitiate; partly because on inquiry he ascertained therespectability of the applicant; and partly because he wished to seal bykindness the lips of a man who could report on the authority of his owneyes that the best lawyer was also the worst shot in all England, Eldongave the petitioner the desired preferment. "But now, " the oldChancellor used to add in conclusion, whenever he told the story, "seethe ingratitude of mankind. It was not long before a large present ofgame reached me, with a letter from my new-made rector, purporting thathe had sent it to me, because _from what he had seen of my shooting he_supposed I must be badly off for game. Think of turning upon me in thisway, and wounding me in my tenderest point. "

Amongst Eldon's humorous answers to applications for preferment shouldbe remembered his letter to Dr. Fisher of the Charterhouse: on one sideof a sheet of paper, "Dear Fisher, I cannot, to-day, give you thepreferment for which you ask. --I remain your sincere friend, ELDON. --_Turn over_;" and on the other side, "I gave it to youyesterday. " This note reminds us of Erskine's reply to Sir JohnSinclair's solicitation for a subscription to the testimonial which SirJohn invited the nation to present to himself. On the one side of asheet of paper it ran, "My dear Sir John, I am certain there are few inthis kingdom who set a higher value on your services than myself, and Ihave the honor to subscribe, " and on the other side it concluded, "myself your obedient faithful servant, ERSKINE. "

[35] Swithin was tutor to Ethelwulf and Alfred. Becket was tutor toHenry II. 's eldest son. Wolsey--who took delight in dischargingscholastic functions from the days when he birched schoolboys atMagdalen College, Oxford, till the time when in the plenitude of hisgrandeur he framed regulations for Dean Colet's school of St. Paul's andwrote an introduction to a Latin Grammar for the use of children--actedas educational director to the Princess Mary, and superintended thestudies of Henry VIII. 's natural son, the Earl of Richmond. Amongstpedagogue-chancellors, by license of fancy, may be included the Earl ofClarendon, whose enemies used to charge him with 'playing theschoolmaster to his king, ' and in their desire to bring him intodisfavor at court used to announce his approach to Charles II. Bysaying, "Here comes your schoolmaster. "

PART IX. 

AT HOME: IN COURT: AND IN SOCIETY. 

CHAPTER XLV. 

LAWYERS AT THEIR OWN TABLES. 

A long list, indeed, might be made of abstemious lawyers; but theirtemperance is almost invariably mentioned by biographers as matter forregret and apology, and is even made an occasion for reproach in caseswhere it has not been palliated by habits of munificent hospitality. Inthe catalogue of Chancellor Warham's virtues and laudable usages, Erasmus takes care to mention that the primate was accustomed toentertain his friends, to the number of two hundred at a time: and whenthe man of letters notices the archbishop's moderation with respect towines and dishes--a moderation that caused his grace to eschew suppers, and never to sit more than an hour at dinner--he does not omit toobserve that though the great man "made it a rule to abstain entirelyfrom supper, yet if his friends were assembled at that meal he would sitdown along with them and promote their conviviality. "

Splendid in all things, Wolsey astounded envious nobles by themagnificence of his banquets, and the lavish expenses of his kitchens, wherein his master-cooks wore raiment of richest materials--the _chef_of his private kitchen daily arraying himself in a damask-satin orvelvet, and wearing on his neck a chain of gold. Of a far other kindwere the tastes of Wolsey's successor, who, in the warmest sunshine ofhis power, preferred a quiet dinner with Erasmus to the pompous displayof state banquets, and who wore a gleeful light in his countenance when, after his fall, he called his children and grandchildren about him, andsaid: "I have been brought up at Oxford, at an Inn of Chancery, atLincoln's Inn, and in the King's Court--from the lowest degree to thehighest, and yet have I in yearly revenues at this present, little leftme above a hundred pounds by the year; so that now, if we wish to livetogether, you must be content to be contributaries together. But mycounsel is that we fall not to the lowest fare first; we will not, therefore, descend to Oxford fare, nor to the fare of New Inn, but wewill begin with Lincoln's Inn diet, where many right worshipful men ofgreat account and good years do live full well; which if we findourselves the first year not able to maintain, then will we in the nextyear come down to Oxford fare, where many great, learned, and ancientfathers and doctors are continually conversant; which if our pursesstretch not to maintain neither, then may we after, with bag and wallet, go a-begging together, hoping that for pity some good folks will give ustheir charity and at every man's door to sing a _Salve Regina_, wherebywe shall keep company and be merry together. "

Students recalling the social life of England should bear in mind thehours kept by our ancestors in the fourteenth and two followingcenturies. Under the Plantagenets noblemen used to sup at five P. M. , anddine somewhere about the breakfast hour of Mayfair in a modern Londonseason. Gradually hours became later; but under the Tudors the ordinarydinner hour for gentlepeople was somewhere about eleven A. M. , and theirusual time for supping was between five P. M. And six P. M. , tradesmen, merchants and farmers dining and supping at later hours than theirsocial superiors. "With us, " says Hall the chronicler, "the nobility, gentry, and students, do ordinarily go to dinner at eleven before noon, and to supper at five, or between five and six, at afternoon. Themerchants dine and sup seldom before twelve at noon and six at night. The husbandmen also dine at high noon as they call it, and sup at sevenor eight; but out of term in our universities the scholars dine at ten. "Thus whilst the idlers of society made haste to eat and drink, theworkers postponed the pleasures of the table until they had made a goodmorning's work. In the days of morning dinners and afternoon suppers, the law-courts used to be at the height of their daily business at anhour when Templars of the present generation have seldom risen from bed. Chancellors were accustomed to commence their daily sittings inWestminster at seven A. M. In summer, and at eight A. M. In winter months. Lord Keeper Williams, who endeavored to atone for want of law byextraordinarily assiduous attention to the duties of his office, usedindeed to open his winter sittings by candlelight between six and seveno'clock. 

Many were the costly banquets of which successive Chancellors invitedthe nobility, the judges, and the bar, to partake at old York House; butof all the holders of the Great Seal who exercised pompous hospitalityin that picturesque palace, Francis Bacon was the most liberal, gracious, and delightful entertainer. Where is the student of Englishhistory who has not often endeavored to imagine the scene when BenJonson sat amongst the honored guests of

 "England's high Chancellor, the destin'd heir, In his soft cradle, to his father's chair, "

and little prescient of the coming storm, spoke of his host as one

 "Whose even thread the Fates spin round and full, Out of their choicest and their whitest wool. "

Even at the present day lawyers have reason to be grateful to Bacon forthe promptitude with which, on taking possession of the Marble Chair, herevived the ancient usages of earlier holders of the seal, and set anexample of courteous hospitality to the bar, which no subsequentChancellor has been able to disregard without loss of respect and_prestige_. Though a short attack of gout qualified the new pleasure ofhis elevation--an attack attributed by the sufferer to his removal "froma field air to a Thames air, " _i. E. _, from Gray's Inn to the south sideof the Strand--Lord Keeper Bacon lost no time in summoning the judgesand most eminent barristers to his table; and though the gravity of hisindisposition, or the dignity of his office, forbade him to join in thefeast, he sat and spoke pleasantly with them when the dishes had beenremoved. "Yesterday, " he wrote to Buckingham, "which was my weary day, Ibid all the judges to dinner, which was not used to be, and entertainedthem in a private withdrawing chamber with the learned counsel. When thefeast was past I came amongst them and sat me down at the end of thetable, and prayed them to think I was one of them, and but a foreman. "Nor let us, whilst recalling Bacon's bounteous hospitalities, fail injustice to his great rival, Sir Edward Coke---who, though he usuallyheld himself aloof from frivolous amusements, and cared but little forexpensive repasts, would with a liberal hand place lordly dishes beforelordly guests; and of whom it is recorded in the 'Apophthegmes, ' thatwhen any great visitor dropped in upon him for pot-luck without noticehe was wont to say, "Sir, since you sent me no notice of your coming, you must dine with me; but if I had known of it in due time I would havedined with you. "

From such great men as Lord Nottingham and Lord Guildford, whosuccessively kept high state in Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, tofat _puisnes_ occupying snug houses in close proximity to the Inns ofCourt, and lower downwards to leaders of the bar and juniors sleeping aswell as working in chambers, the Restoration lawyers were conspicuouspromoters of the hilarity which was one of the most prominent and leastoffensive characteristics of Charles II. 's London. Lord Nottingham'ssumptuous hospitalities were the more creditable, because he voluntarilyrelinquished his claim to £4000 per annum, which the royal bounty hadassigned him as a fund to be expended in official entertainments. Similar praise cannot be awarded to Lord Guildford; but justice compelsthe admission that, notwithstanding his love of money, he maintained the_prestige_ of his place, so far as a hospitable table and profusedomestic expenditure could support it. 

Contrasting strongly with the lawyers of this period, who copied inminiature the impressive state of Clarendon's princely establishments, were the jovial, catch-singing, three-bottle lawyers--who preferreddrunkenness to pomp; an oaken table, surrounded by jolly fellows, toante-rooms crowded with obsequious courtiers; a hunting song with abrave chorus to the less stormy diversion of polite conversation. Ofthese free-living lawyers, George Jeffreys was a conspicuous leader. Notaverse to display, and not incapable of shining in refined society, thisnotorious man loved good cheer and jolly companions beyond all othersources of excitement; and during his tenure of the seals, he was nevermore happy than when he was presiding over a company of sharp-wittedmen-about-town whom he had invited to indulge in wild talk and choicewine at his mansion that overlooked the lawns, the water, and the treesof St. James's Park. On such occasions his lordship's most valued booncompanion was Mountfort, the comedian, whom he had taken from the stageand made a permanent officer of the Duke Street household. Whether theactor was required to discharge any graver functions in the Chancellor'sestablishment is unknown; but we have Sir John Reresby's testimony thatthe clever mimic and brilliant libertine was employed to amuse hislordship's guests by ridiculing the personal and mental peculiarities ofthe judges and most eminent barristers. "I dined, " records Sir John, "with the Lord Chancellor, where the Lord Mayor of London was a guest, and some other gentlemen. His lordship having, according to custom, drunk deep at dinner, called for one Mountfort, a gentleman of his, whohad been a comedian, an excellent mimic; and to divert the company, ashe was pleased to term it, he made him plead before him in a feignedcause, during which he aped the judges, and all the great lawyers of theage, in tone of voice and in action and gesture of body, to the verygreat ridicule, not only of the lawyers, but of the law itself, which tome did not seem altogether prudent in a man in his lofty station in thelaw; diverting it certainly was, but prudent in the Lord Chancellor Ishall never think it. " The fun of Mountfort's imitations was oftenheightened by the presence of the persons whom they held up toderision--some of whom would see and express natural displeasure at theaffront; whilst others, quite unconscious of their own peculiarities, joined loudly in the laughter that was directed against themselves. 

As pet buffoon of the tories about town, Mountfort was followed, at aconsiderable distance of time, by Estcourt--an actor who united wit andfine humor with irresistible powers of mimicry; and who contrived toacquire the respect and affectionate regard of many of those famousWhigs whom it was alike his pleasure and his business to renderridiculous. In the _Spectator_ Steele paid him a tribute of cordialadmiration; and Cibber, noticing the marvellous fidelity of hisimitations, has recorded, "This man was so amazing and extraordinary amimic, that no man or woman, from the coquette to the privy counsellor, ever moved or spoke before him, but he could carry their voice, look, mien, and motion instantly into another company. I have heard him makelong harangues, and form various arguments, even in the manner ofthinking of an eminent pleader at the bar, with every the least articleand singularity of his utterance so perfectly imitated, that he was thevery _alter ipse_, scarce to be distinguished from the original. "

With the exception of Kenyon and Eldon, and one or two less conspicuousinstances of judicial penuriousness, the judges of the Georgian periodwere hospitable entertainers. Chief Justice Lee, who died in 1754, gained credit for an adequate knowledge of law by the sumptuousness andfrequency of the dinners with which he regaled his brothers of the benchand learned counsellors. Chief Justice Mansfield's habitual temperanceand comparative indifference to the pleasures of the table did not causehim to be neglectful of hospitable duties. Notwithstanding the coldformality of Lord Hardwicke's entertainments, and the charges ofniggardliness preferred against Lady Hardwicke's domestic system byOpposition satirists, Philip Yorke used to entertain the chiefs of hisprofession with pomp, if not with affability. Thurlow entertained asomewhat too limited circle of friends with English fare and asuperabundance of choice port in Great Ormond Street. Throughout hispublic career, Alexander Wedderburn was a lavish and delightful host, amply atoning in the opinion of frivolous society for his politicalfalsity by the excellence and number of his grand dinners. On enteringthe place of Solicitor-General, he spent £8000 on a service of plate;and as Lord Loughborough he gratified the bar and dazzled thefashionable world by hospitality alike sumptuous and brilliant. 

Several of the Georgian lawyers had strong predilections for particulardishes or articles of diet. Thurlow was very fanciful about his fruit;and in his later years he would give way to ludicrous irritability, ifinferior grapes or faulty peaches were placed before him. At Brighton, in his declining years, the ex-Chancellor's indignation at a dish ofdefective wall-fruit was so lively that--to the inexpressibleastonishment of Horne Tooke and other guests--he caused the whole of avery fine dessert to be thrown out of the window upon the Marine Parade. Baron Graham's weakness was for oysters, eaten as a preparatory whet tothe appetite before dinner; and it is recorded of him that on a certainoccasion, when he had been indulging in this favorite pre-prandialexercise, he observed with pleasant humor--"Oysters taken before dinnerare said to sharpen the appetite; but I have just consumed half-a-barrelof fine natives--and speaking honestly, I am bound to say that I don'tfeel quite as hungry as when I began. " Thomas Manners Button's peculiar_penchant_ was for salads; and in a moment of impulsive kindness he gaveLady Morgan the recipe for his favorite salad--a compound of rare meritand mysterious properties. Bitterly did the old lawyer repent his unwisemunificence when he read 'O'Donnell. ' Warmly displeased with thepolitical sentiments of the novel, he ordered it to be burnt in theservants' hall, and exclaimed, peevishly, to Lady Manners, "I wish Ihad not given her the secret of my salad. " In no culinary product didLord Ellenborough find greater delight than lobster-sauce; and he gaveexpression to his high regard for that soothing and delicate compoundwhen he decided that persons engaged in lobster-fishery were exempt fromlegal liability to impressment. "Then is not, " inquired his lordship, with solemn pathos, "the lobster-fishery a fishery, and a most importantfishery, of this kingdom, though carried on in shallow water? Theframers of the law well knew that the produce of the deep sea, withoutthe produce of the shallow water, would be of comparatively small value, and intended that turbot, when placed upon our tables, should be flankedby good lobster-sauce. " Eldon's singular passion for fried 'liver andbacon' was amongst his most notorious and least pleasant peculiarities. Even the Prince Regent condescended to humor this remarkable taste byordering a dish of liver and bacon to be placed on the table when theChancellor dined with him at Brighton. Sir John Leach, Master of theRolls, was however less ready to pander to a depraved appetite. LordEldon said, "It will give me great pleasure to dine with you, and sinceyou are good enough to ask me to order a dish that shall test your new_chef's_ powers--I wish you'd tell your Frenchman to fry some liver andbacon for me. " "Are you laughing at me or my cook?" asked Sir JohnLeach, stiffly, thinking that the Chancellor was bent on ridiculing hisluxurious mode of living. "At neither, " answered Eldon, with equalsimplicity and truth; "I was only ordering the dish which I enjoy beyondall other dishes. "

Although Eldon's penuriousness was grossly exaggerated by hisdetractors, it cannot be questioned that either through indolence, orlove of money, or some other kind of selfishness, he was very neglectfulof his hospitable duties to the bench and the bar. "Verily he isworking off the arrears of the Lord Chancellor, " said Romilly, when SirThomas Plummer, the Master of the Rolls, gave a succession of dinners tothe bar; and such a remark would not have escaped the lips of thedecorous and amiable Romilly had not circumstances fully justified it. Still it is unquestionable that Eldon's Cabinet dinners were suitablyexpensive; and that he never grudged his choicest port to the oldattorneys and subordinate placemen who were his obsequious companionstowards the close of his career. For the charges of sordid parsimony sofrequently preferred against Kenyon it is to be feared there were bettergrounds. Under the steadily strengthening spell of avarice he ceased toinvite even old friends to his table; and it was rumored that in courseof time his domestic servants complained with reason that they wererequired to consume the same fare as their master deemed sufficient forhimself. "In Lord Kenyon's house, " a wit exclaimed, "all the yearthrough it is Lent in the kitchen, and Passion Week in the Parlor. "Another caustic quidnunc remarked, "In his lordship's kitchen the fireis dull, but the spits are always bright;" whereupon Jekyll interposedwith an assumption of testiness, "Spits! in the name of common sense Iorder you not to talk about _his_ spits, for nothing turns upon them. "

Very different was the temper of Erskine, who spent money faster thanKenyon saved it, and who died in indigence after holding the Great Sealof England, and making for many years a finer income at the bar than anyof his contemporaries not enjoying crown patronage. Many are the brightpictures preserved to us of his hospitality to politicians and lawyers, wits, and people of fashion; but none of the scenes is morecharacteristic than the dinner described by Sir Samuel Romilly, whenthat good man met at Erskine's Hampstead villa the chiefs of theopposition and Mr. Pinkney, the American Minister. "Among the light, trifling topics of conversation after dinner, " says Sir Samuel Romilly, "it may be worth while to mention one, as it strongly characterizes LordErskine. He has always expressed and felt a strong sympathy withanimals. He has talked for years of a bill he was to bring intoparliament to prevent cruelty towards them. He has always had somefavorite animals to whom he has been much attached, and of whom all hisacquaintance have a number of anecdotes to relate; a favorite dog whichhe used to bring, when he was at the bar, to all his consultations;another favorite dog, which, at the time when he was Lord Chancellor, hehimself rescued in the street from some boys who were about to kill itunder the pretence of its being mad; a favorite goose, which followedhim wherever he walked about his grounds; a favorite macaw, and otherdumb favorites without number. He told us now that he had got twofavorite leeches. He had been blooded by them last autumn when he hadbeen taken dangerously ill at Portsmouth; they had saved his life, andhe had brought them with him to town, had ever since kept them in aglass, had himself every day given them fresh water, and had formed afriendship for them. He said he was sure they both knew him and weregrateful to him. He had given them different names, 'Home' and 'Cline'(the names of two celebrated surgeons), their dispositions being quitedifferent. After a good deal of conversation about them, he wenthimself, brought them out of his library, and placed them in their glassupon the table. It is impossible, however, without the vivacity, thetones, the details, and the gestures of Lord Erskine, to give anadequate idea of this singular scene. " Amongst the listeners to Erskine, whilst he spoke eloquently and with fervor of the virtues of his twoleeches, were the Duke of Norfolk, Lord Grenville, Lord Grey, LordHolland, Lord Ellenborough, Lord Lauderdale, Lord Henry Petty, andThomas Grenville. 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

WINE. 

From the time when Francis Bacon attributed a sharp attack of gout tohis removal from Gray's Inn Fields to the river side, to a time not manyyears distant when Sir Herbert Jenner Fust[36] used to be brought intohis court in Doctors' Commons and placed in the judicial seat by twoliveried porters, lawyers were not remarkable for abstinence from thepleasures to which our ancestors were indebted for the joint-fixing, picturesque gout that has already become an affair of the past. Throughout the long period that lies between Charles II. 's restorationand George III. 's death, an English judge without a symptom of gout wasso exceptional a character that people talked of him as an interestingsocial curiosity. The Merry Monarch made Clarendon's bedroom hiscouncil-chamber when the Chancellor was confined to his couch by_podagra_. Lord Nottingham was so disabled by gout, and what the oldphysicians were pleased to call a 'perversity of the humors, ' that hisduties in the House of Lords were often discharged by Francis North, then Chief Justice of the Common Pleas; and though he persevered inattending to the business of his court, a man of less resolution wouldhave altogether succumbed to the agony of his disease and the burden ofhis infirmities. "I have known him, " says Roger North, "sit to hearpetitions in great pain, and say that his servants had let him out, though he was fitter for his chamber. " Prudence saved Lord Guildfordfrom excessive intemperance; but he lived with a freedom that would beremarkable in the present age. Chief Justice Saunders was a confirmedsot, taking nips of brandy with his breakfast, and seldom appearing inpublic "without a pot of ale at his nose or near him. " Sir Robert Wrightwas notoriously addicted to wine; and George Jeffreys drank, as heswore, like a trooper. "My lord, " said King Charles, in a significanttone, when he gave Jeffreys the _blood-stone_ ring, "as it is a hotsummer, and you are going the circuit, I desire you will not drink toomuch. "

Amongst the reeling judges of the Restoration, however, there moved onevenerable lawyer, who, in an age when moralists hesitated to calldrunkenness a vice, was remarkable for sobriety. In his youth, whilst hewas indulging with natural ardor in youthful pleasures, Chief JusticeHale was so struck with horror at seeing an intimate friend dropsenseless, and apparently lifeless, at a student's drinking-bout, thathe made a sudden but enduring resolution to conquer his ebriouspropensities, and withdraw himself from the dangerous allurements ofungodly company. Falling upon his knees he prayed the Almighty torescue his friend from the jaws of death, and also to strengthen him tokeep his newly-formed resolution. He rose an altered man. But in an agewhen the barbarous usage of toast-drinking was in full force, he feltthat he could not be an habitually sober man if he mingled in society, and obeyed a rule which required the man of delicate and excitablenerves to drink as much, bumper for bumper, as the man whose sluggishsystem could receive a quart of spirits at a sitting and yet scarcelyexperience a change of sensation. At that time it was customary withprudent men to protect themselves against a pernicious and tyrannouscustom, by taking a vow to abstain from toast-drinking, or even fromdrinking wine at all, for a certain stated period. Readers do not needto be reminded how often young Pepys was under a vow not to drink; andthe device by which the jovial admiralty clerk strengthened an infirmwill and defended himself against temptation was frequently employed byright-minded young men of his date. In some cases, instead of _vowing_not to drink, they _bound_ themselves not to drink within a certainperiod; two persons, that is to say, agreeing that they would abstainfrom wine and spirits for a certain period, and each _binding_ himselfin case he broke the compact to pay over a certain sum of money to hispartner in the bond. Young Hale saw that to effect a completereformation of his life it was needful for him to abjure the practice ofdrinking healths. He therefore vowed _never again_ to drink a health;and he kept his vow. Never again did he brim his bumper and drain it atthe command of a toast-master, although his abstinence exposed him tomuch annoyance; and in his old age he thus urged his grandchildren tofollow his example--"I will not have you begin or pledge any health, forit is become one of the greatest artifices of drinking, and occasions ofquarrelling in the kingdom. If you pledge one health you obligeyourself to pledge another, and a third, and so onwards; and if youpledge as many as will be drunk, you must be debauched and drunk. Ifthey will needs know the reason of your refusal, it is a fair answer, 'that your grandfather that brought you up, from whom, under God, youhave the estate you enjoy or expect, left this in command with you, thatyou should never begin or pledge a health. '"

Jeffrey's _protégé_, John Trevor, liked good wine himself, but emulatedthe virtuous Hale in the pains which he took to place the treacherousdrink beyond the reach of others--whenever they showed a desire to drinkit at his expense. After his expulsion from the House of Commons, SirJohn Trevor was sitting alone over a choice bottle of claret, when hisneedy kinsman, Roderic Lloyd, was announced. "You rascal, " exclaimed theMaster of the Rolls, springing to his feet, and attacking his footmanwith furious language, "you have brought my cousin, Roderic Lloyd, Esquire, Prothonotary of North Wales, Marshal to Baron Price, up my backstairs. You scoundrel, hear ye, I order you to take him this instantdown my _back stairs_, and bring him up my _front stairs_. " Sir Johnmade such a point of showing his visitor this mark of respect, that theyoung barrister was forced to descend and enter the room by the statestaircase; but he saw no reason to think himself honored by his cousin'spunctilious courtesy, when on entering the room a second time he lookedin vain for the claret bottle. 

On another occasion Sir John Trevor's official residence affordedshelter to the same poor relation when the latter was in great mentaltrouble. "Roderic, " saith the chronicler, "was returning rather elevatedfrom his club one night, and ran against the pump in Chancery Lane. Conceiving somebody had struck him, he drew and made a lunge at thepump. The sword entered the spout, and the pump, being crazy, felldown. Roderic concluded he had killed his man, left, his sword in thepump, and retreated to his old friend's house at the Rolls. There he wasconcealed by the servants for the night. In the morning his Honor, having heard the story, came himself to deliver him from hisconsternation and confinement in the coal-hole. "

Amongst the eighteenth century lawyers there was considerable differenceof taste and opinion on questions relating to the use and abuse of wine. Though he never, or very seldom, exceeded the limits of sobriety, Somersenjoyed a bottle in congenial society; and though wine never betrayedhim into reckless hilarity, it gave gentleness and comity to hishabitually severe countenance and solemn deportment--if reliance may beplaced on Swift's couplet--

 "By force of wine even Scarborough is brave, Hall grows more pert, and Somers not so grave. "

A familiar quotation that alludes to Murray's early intercourse with thewits warrants an inference that in opening manhood he preferredchampagne to every other wine; but as Lord Mansfield he steadily adheredto claret, though fashion had taken into favor the fuller winestigmatized as poison by John Home's famous epigram--

 "Bold and erect the Caledonian stood; Old was his mutton, and his claret good. 'Let him drink port, ' an English statesman cried: He drunk the poison and his spirit died. "

Unlike his father, who never sinned against moderation in his cups, Charles Yorke was a deep drinker as well as a gourmand. Hardwicke'ssuccessor, Lord Northington, was the first of a line ofport-wine-drinking judges that may at the present time be fairly saidto have come to an end--although a few reverend fathers of the law yetremain, who drink with relish the Methuen drink when age has deprived itof body and strength. Until Robert Henley held the seals, Chancellorscontinued to hold after-dinner sittings in the Court of Chancery oncertain days of the week throughout term. Hardwicke, throughout his longofficial career, sat on the evenings of Wednesdays and Fridays hearingcauses, while men of pleasure were fuddling themselves with fruityvintages. Lord Northington, however, prevailed on George III. To let himdiscontinue these evening attendances in court. "But why, " asked themonarch, "do you wish for a change?" "Sir, " the Chancellor answered, with delightful frankness, "I want the change in order that I may finishmy bottle of port at my ease; and your majesty, in your parental carefor the happiness of your subjects, will, I trust, think this asufficient reason. " Of course the king's laughter ended in a favorableanswer to the petition for reform, and from that time the Chancellor'sevening sittings were discontinued. But ere he died, the jovialChancellor paid the penalty which port exacts from all her ferventworshippers, and he suffered the acutest pangs of gout. It is recordedthat as he limped from the woolsack to the bar of the House of Lords, heonce muttered to a young peer, who watched his distress with evidentsympathy--"Ah, my young friend, if I had known that these legs would oneday carry a Chancellor, I would have taken better care of them when Iwas at your age. " Unto this had come the handsome legs of youngCounsellor Henley, who, in his dancing days, stepped minuets to theenthusiastic admiration of the _belles_ of Bath. 

Some light is thrown on the manners of lawyers in the eighteenth centuryby an order made by the authorities of Barnard's Inn, who, in November, 1706, named two quarts as the allowance of wine to be given to eachmess of four men by two gentlemen on going through the ceremony of'initiation. ' Of course, this amount of wine was an 'extra' allowance, in addition to the ale and sherry assigned to members by the regulardietary of the house. Even Sheridan, who boasted that he could drink any_given_ quantity of wine, would have thought twice before he drank solarge a given quantity, in addition to a liberal allowance of stimulant. Anyhow, the quantity was fixed--a fact that would have elicited anexpression of approval from Chief Baron Thompson, who, loving port winewisely, though too well, expressed at the same time his concurrence withthe words, and his dissent from the opinion of a barrister, whoobserved--"I hold, my lord, that after a good dinner a certain quantityof wine does no harm. " With a smile, the Chief Baron rejoined--"True, sir; it is the _uncertain_ quantity that does the mischief. "

The most temperate of the eighteenth-century Chancellors was LordCamden, who required no more generous beverage than sound malt liquor, as he candidly declared, in a letter to the Duke of Grafton, wherein hesays--"I am, thank God, remarkably well, but your grace must not seduceme into my former intemperance. A plain dish and a draught of porter(which last is indispensable), are the very extent of my luxury. " Forporter, Edward Thurlow, in his student days, had high respect and keenrelish; but in his mature years, as well as still older age, full-bodiedport was his favorite drink, and under its influence were seen to thebest advantage those colloquial powers which caused Samuel Johnson toexclaim--"Depend upon it, sir, it is when you come close to a man inconversation that you discover what his real abilities are; to make aspeech in a public assembly is a knack. Now, I honor Thurlow, sir;Thurlow is a fine fellow: he fairly puts his mind to yours. " OfThurlow, when he had mounted the woolsack, Johnson also observed--"Iwould prepare myself for no man in England but Lord Thurlow. When I amto meet him, I would wish to know a day before. " From the many storiestold of Thurlow and ebriosity, one may be here taken and brought underthe reader's notice--not because it has wit or humor to recommend it, but because it presents the Chancellor in company with anotherport-loving lawyer, William Pitt, from whose fame, by-the-by, LordStanhope has recently removed the old disfiguring imputations ofsottishness. "Returning, " says Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, a poor authority, but piquant gossip-monger, "by way of frolic, very late at night, onhorseback, to Wimbledon, from Addiscombe, the seat of Mr. Jenkinson, near Croydon, where the party had dined, Lord Thurlow, the Chancellor, Pitt, and Dundas, found the turnpike gate, situate between Tooting andStreatham, thrown open. Being elevated above their usual prudence, andhaving no servant near them, they passed through the gate at a briskpace, without stopping to pay the toll, regardless of the remonstrancesand threats of the turnpike man, who running after them, and believingthem to belong to some highwaymen who had recently committed somedepredation on that road, discharged the contents of his blunderbuss attheir backs. Happily he did no injury. "

Throughout their long lives the brothers Scott were steady, and, according to the rules of the present day, inordinate drinkers of portwine. As a young barrister, John Scott could carry more port withdecorum than any other man of his inn; and in the days when he isgenerally supposed to have lived on sprats and table-beer, he seldompassed twenty-four hours without a bottle of his favorite wine. Prudence, however, made him careful to avoid intoxication, and when hefound that a friendship often betrayed him into what he thoughtexcessive drinking, he withdrew from the dangerous connexion. "I seeyour friend Bowes very often, " he wrote in May, 1778, a time when Mr. Bowes was his most valuable client; "but I dare not dine with him aboveonce in three months, as there is no getting away before midnight; and, indeed, one is sure to be in a condition in which no man would wish tobe in the streets at any other season. " Of the quantities imbibed atthese three-monthly dinners, an estimate may be formed from thefollowing story. Bringing from Oxford to London that fine sense of themerits of port wine which characterized the thorough Oxonion of acentury since, William Scott made it for some years a rule to dine withhis brother John on the first day of term at a tavern hard by theTemple; and on these occasions the brothers used to make away withbottle after bottle not less to the astonishment than the approval ofthe waiters who served them. Before the decay of his faculties, LordStowell was recalling these terminal dinners to his son-in-law, LordSidmouth, when the latter observed, "You drank some wine together, Idare say?" Lord Stowell, modestly, "Yes, we drank some wine. "Son-in-law, inquisitively, "Two bottles?" Lord Stowell, quickly puttingaway the imputation of such abstemiousness, "More than that. "Son-in-law, smiling, "What, three bottles?" Lord Stowell, "More. "Son-in-law, opening his eyes with astonishment, "By Jove, sir, you don'tmean to say that you took four bottles?" Lord Stowell, beginning to feelashamed of himself, "More; I mean to say we had more. Now don't ask anymore questions. "

Whilst Lord Stowell, smarting under the domestic misery of which hisfoolish marriage with the Dowager Marchioness of Sligo was fruitful, sought comfort and forgetfulness in the cellar of the Middle Temple, Lord Eldon drained magnums of Newcastle port at his own table. Populouswith wealthy merchants, and surrounded by an opulent aristocracy, Newcastle had used the advantages given her by a large export trade withPortugal to draw to her cellars such superb port wine as could be foundin no other town in the United Kingdom; and to the last the ToryChancellor used to get his port from the canny capital of Northumbria. Just three weeks before his death, the veteran lawyer, sitting in hiseasy-chair and recalling his early triumphs, preluded an account of thegreat leading case, "Akroyd _v. _ Smithson, " by saying to his listener, "Come, Farrer, help yourself to a glass of Newcastle port, and help meto a little. " But though he asked for a little, the old earl, accordingto his wont, drank much before he was raised from his chair and led tohis sleeping-room. It is on record, and is moreover supported byunexceptionable evidence, that in his extreme old age, whilst he wascompletely laid upon the shelf, and almost down to the day of his death, which occurred in his eighty-seventh year, Lord Eldon never drank lessthan three pints of port daily with or after his dinner. 

Of eminent lawyers who were steady port-wine drinkers, Baron Platt--theamiable and popular judge who died in 1862, aged seventy-two years--maybe regarded as one of the last. Of him it is recorded that in earlymanhood he was so completely prostrated by severe illness that beholdersjudged him to be actually dead. Standing over his silent body shortlybefore the arrival of the undertaker, two of his friends concurred ingiving utterance to the sentiment: "Ah, poor dear fellow, we shall neverdrink a glass of wine with him again;" when, to their momentary alarmand subsequent delight, the dead man interposed with a faint assumptionof jocularity, "But you will though, and a good many too, I hope. " Whenthe undertaker called he was sent away a genuinely sorrowful man; andthe young lawyer, who was 'not dead yet, ' lived to old age and goodpurpose. 

[36] In old Sir Herbert's later days it was a mere pleasantry, or boldfigure of speech to say that his court had risen, for he used to belifted from his chair and carried bodily from the chamber of justice bytwo brawny footmen. Of course, as soon as the judge was about to beelevated by his bearers, the bar rose; and also as a matter of coursethe bar continued to stand until the strong porters had conveyed theirweighty and venerable burden along the platform behind one of the rowsof advocates and out of sight. As the _trio_ worked their laborious wayalong the platform, there seemed to be some danger that they mightblunder and fall through one of the windows into the space behind thecourt; and at a time when Sir Herbert and Dr. ---- were at openvariance, that waspish advocate had on one occasion the bad taste tokeep his seat at the rising of the court, and with characteristicmalevolence of expression to say to the footmen, "Mind, my men, and takecare of that judge of yours--or, by Jove, you'll pitch him out of thewindow. " It is needless to say that this brutal speech did not raise thespeaker in the opinion of the hearers. 

CHAPTER XLVII. 

LAW AND LITERATURE. 

At the present time, when three out of every five journalists attachedto our chief London newspapers are Inns-of-Court men; when many of ourable and successful advocates are known to ply their pens in organs ofperiodical literature as regularly as they raise their voices in courtsof justice; and when the young Templar, who has borne away the firsthonors of his university, deems himself the object of a compliment onreceiving an invitation to contribute to the columns of a leading reviewor daily journal--it is difficult to believe that strong men are stillamongst us who can remember the days when it was the fashion of the barto disdain law-students who were suspected of 'writing for hire' andbarristers who 'reported for the papers. ' Throughout the opening yearsof the present century, and even much later, it was almost universallyheld on the circuits and in Westminster Hall, that Inns-of-Court menlowered the dignity of their order by following those literaryavocations by which some of the brightest ornaments of the law supportedthemselves at the outset of their professional careers. Notwithstandingthis prejudice, a few wearers of the long robe, daring by nature, orrendered bold by necessity, persisted in 'maintaining a connexion withthe press, whilst they sought briefs on the circuit, or waited forclients in their chambers. Such men as Sergeant Spankie and LordCampbell, as Master Stephen and Mr. Justice Talfourd, were reporters forthe press whilst they kept terms; and no sooner had Henry Brougham'seloquence charmed the public, than it was whispered that for years hispen, no less ready than his tongue, had found constant employment inorgans of political intelligence. 

But though such men were known to exist, they were regarded as the'black sheep' of the bar by a great majority of their profession. It isnot improbable that this prejudice against gownsmen on the press waspalliated by circumstances that no longer exist. When political writerswere very generally regarded as dangerous members of society, and whenconductors of respectable newspapers were harassed with vexatiousprosecutions and heavy punishments for acts of trivial inadvertence, orfor purely imaginary offences, the average journalist was in manyrespects inferior to the average journalist working under the presentmore favorable circumstances. Men of culture, honest purpose, and finefeeling were slow to enrol themselves members of a despised andproscribed fraternity; and in the dearth of educated gentlemen ready toaccept literary employment, the task of writing for the public paperstoo frequently devolved upon very unscrupulous persons, who renderedtheir calling as odious as themselves. A shackled and persecuted pressis always a licentious and venal press; and before legislation endowedEnglish journalism with a certain measure of freedom and security, itwas seldom manly and was often corrupt. It is therefore probable thatour grandfathers had some show of reason for their dislike ofcontributors to anonymous literature. At the bar men of unquestionableamiability and enlightenment were often the loudest to express thisaversion for their scribbling brethren. It was said that the scribblerswere seldom gentlemen in temper; and that they never hesitated to puffthemselves in their papers. These considerations so far influenced Mr. Justice Lawrence that, though he was a model of judicial suavity to allother members of the bar, he could never bring himself to be barelycivil to advocates known to be 'upon the press. '

At Lincoln's Inn this strong feeling against journalists found vent in aresolution, framed in reference to a particular person, which would haveshut out journalists from the Society. It had long been understood thatno student could be called to the bar _whilst_ he was acting as areporter in the gallery of either house; but the new decision of thebenchers would have destroyed the ancient connexion of the legalprofession and literary calling. Strange to say this illiberal measurewas the work of two benchers who, notwithstanding their patriciandescent and associations, were vehement asserters of liberal principles. Mr. Clifford--'O. P. ' Clifford--was its proposer and Erskine was itsseconder. Fortunately the person who was the immediate object of itsprovisions petitioned the House of Commons upon the subject, and theconsequent debate in the Lower House decided the benchers to withdrawfrom their false position; and since their silent retreat no attempt hasbeen made by any of the four honorable societies to affix an undeservedstigma on the followers of a serviceable art. Upon the whole theliterary calling gained much from the discreditable action of Lincoln'sInn; for the speech in which Sheridan covered with derision this attemptto brand parliamentary reporters as unfit to associate with members ofthe bar, and the address in which Mr. Stephen, with manly reference tohis own early experiences, warmly censured the conduct of the society ofwhich he was himself a member, caused many persons to form a new andjuster estimate of the working members of the London press. Havingalluded to Dr. Johnson and Edmund Burke, who had both acted asparliamentary reporters, Sheridan stated that no less than twenty-threegraduates of universities were then engaged as reporters of theproceedings of the house. 

The close connexion which for centuries has existed between men of lawand men of letters is illustrated on the one hand by a long successionof eminent lawyers who have added to the lustre of professional honorsthe no less bright distinctions of literary achievements or friendships, and on the other hand by the long line of able writers who eitherenrolled themselves amongst the students of the law, or resided in theInns of Court, or cherished with assiduous care the friendly regard offamous judges. Indeed, since the days of Chancellor de Bury, who wrotethe 'Philobiblon, ' there have been few Chancellors to whom literature isnot in some way indebted; and the few Keepers of the Seal who neithercared for letters nor cultivated the society of students, are amongstthe judges whose names most Englishmen would gladly erase from thehistory of their country. Jeffreys and Macclesfield represent theunlettered Chancellors; More and Bacon the lettered. Fortescue's 'DeLaudibus' is a book for every reader. To Chancellor Warham, Erasmus--ascholar not given to distribute praise carelessly--dedicated his 'St. Jerom, ' with cordial eulogy. Wolsey was a patron of letters. More may besaid to have revived, if he did not create, the literary taste of hiscontemporaries, and to have transplanted the novel to English soil. Equally diligent as a writer and a collector of books, Gardyner spenthis happiest moments at his desk, or over the folios of the magnificentlibrary which was destroyed by Wyat's insurgents. Christopher Hatton wasa dramatic author. To one person who can describe with any approach toaccuracy Edward Hyde's conduct in the Court of Chancery, there aretwenty who have studied Clarendon's 'Rebellion. ' At the present dateHale's books are better known than his judgments, though his conducttowards the witches of Bury St. Edmunds conferred an unenviable fame onhis judicial career. By timely assistance rendered to Burnet, LordNottingham did something to atone for his brutality towards Milton, whom, at an earlier period of his career, he had declared worthy of afelon's death, for having been Cromwell's Latin secretary. Lord KeeperNorth wrote upon 'Music;' and to his brother Roger literature isindebted for the best biographies composed by any writer of his period. In his boyhood Somers was a poet; in his maturer years the friend ofpoets. The friend of Prior and Gay, Arbuthnot and Pope, Lord ChancellorHarcourt, wrote verses of more than ordinary merit, and alike in periodsof official triumph and in times of retirement valued the friendship ofmen of wit above the many successes of his public career. LordChancellor King, author of 'Constitution and Discipline of the PrimitiveChurch, ' was John Locke's dutiful nephew and favorite companion. King'simmediate successor was extolled by Pope in the lines, O teach us, Talbot! thou'rt unspoil'd by wealth, That secret rare, between the extremes to move, Of mad good-nature and of mean self-love. Who is it copies Talbot's better part, To ease th' oppress'd, and raise the sinking heart?

But Talbot's fairest eulogy was penned by his son's tutor, AlexanderThomson--a poet who had no reason to feel gratitude to Talbot's officialsuccessor. Ere he thoroughly resolved to devote himself to law, the coldand formal Hardwicke had cherished a feeble ambition for literarydistinction; and under its influence he wrote a paper that appeared inthe _Spectator_. Blackstone's entrance at the Temple occasioned hismetrical 'Farewell' to his muse. In his undergraduate days at CambridgeLord Chancellor Charles Yorke was a chief contributor to the 'AthenianLetters, ' and it would have been well for him had he in after-life givento letters a portion of the time which he sacrificed to ambition. Thurlow's churlishness and overbearing temper are at this date triflingmatters in comparison with his friendship for Cowper and Samuel Johnson, and his kindly aid to George Crabbe. Even more than for the wisdom ofhis judgments Mansfield is remembered for his intimacy with 'the wits, 'and his close friendship with that chief of them all, who exclaimed, "How sweet an Ovid, Murray, was our boast, " and in honor of that "SweetOvid" penned the lines, "Graced as thou art, with all the power of words, So known, so honored in the House of Lords"--

verses deliciously ridiculed by the parodist who wrote, "Persuasion tips his tongue whene'er he talks: And he has chambers in the King's Bench walks. "

As an atonement for many defects, Alexander Wedderburn had onevirtue--an honest respect for letters that made him in opening manhoodseek the friendship of Hume, at a later date solicit a pension for Dr. Johnson, and after his elevation to the woolsack overwhelm Gibbon withhospitable civilities. Eldon was an Oxford Essayist in his young, thecompiler of 'The Anecdote Book' in his old days; and though he cannot becommended for literary tastes, or sympathy with men of letters, he wasone of the many great lawyers who found pleasure in the conversation ofSamuel Johnson. Unlike his brother, Lord Stowell clung fast to hisliterary friendships, as 'Dr. Scott of the Commons' priding himself moreon his membership in the Literary Club than on his standing in thePrerogative Court; and as Lord Stowell evincing cordial respect for thesuccessors of Reynolds and Malone, even when love of money had takenfirm hold of his enfeebled mind. Archdeacon Paley's London residence wasin Edward Law's house in Bloomsbury Square. In Erskine literary ambitionwas so strong that, not content with the fame brought to him byexcellent _vers de société_, he took pen in hand when he resigned theseals, and--more to the delight of his enemies than the satisfaction ofhis friends--wrote a novel, which neither became, nor deserved to be, permanently successful. With similar zeal and greater ability theliterary reputation of the bar has been maintained by Lord Denman, whowas an industrious _littérateur_ whilst he was working his way up at thebar; by Sir John Taylor Coleridge, whose services to the _QuarterlyReview_ are an affair of literary history; by Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd, who, having reported in the gallery, lived to lake part in the debatesof the House of Commons, and who, from the date of his first engagementon the _Times_ till the sad morning when "God's finger touched him, "while he sat upon the bench, never altogether relinquished thoseliterary pursuits, in which he earned well-merited honor; by LordMacaulay, whose connexion with the legal profession is almost lost sightof in the brilliance of his literary renown; by Lord Campbell, whodreamt of living to wear an SS collar in Westminster Hall whilst he wasmerely John Campbell the reporter; by Lord Brougham, who, havinginstructed our grandfathers with his pen, still remains upon the stage, giving their grandsons wise lessons with his tongue; and by LordRomilly, whose services to English literature have won for him thegratitude of scholars. 

Of each generation of writers between the accession of Elizabeth and thepresent time, several of the most conspicuous names are either found onthe rolls of the inns, or are closely associated in the minds ofstudents with the life of the law-colleges. Shakspeare's plays aboundwith testimony that he was no stranger in the legal inns, and the richvein of legal lore and diction that runs through his writings hasinduced more judicious critics than Lord Campbell to conjecture that hemay at some early time of his career have directed his mind to thestudy, if not the practice, of the law. Amongst Elizabethan writers whobelonged to inns may be mentioned--George Ferrars, William Lambarde, SirHenry Spelman, and that luckless pamphleteer John Stubbs, all of whomwere members of Lincoln's Inn; Thomas Sackville, Francis Beaumont theYounger, and John Ferne, of the Inner Temple; Walter Raleigh, of theMiddle Temple; Francis Bacon, Philip Sidney, George Gascoyne, andFrancis Davison, of Gray's Inn. Sir John Denham, the poet, became aLincoln's-Inn student in 1634; and Francis Quarles was a member of thesame learned society. John Selden entered the Inner Temple in the secondyear of James I. , where in due course he numbered, amongst his literarycontemporaries, --William Browne, Croke, Oulde, Thomas Gardiner, Dynne, Edward Heywood, John Morgan, Augustus Cæsar, Thomas Heygate, Thomas May, dramatist and translator of Lucan's 'Pharsalia, ' William Rough and Rymerwere members of Gray's Inn. Sir John David and Sir Simonds D'Ewesbelonged to the Middle Temple. Massinger's dearest friends lived in theInner Temple, of which society George Keate, the dramatist, and Butler'sstaunch supporter William Longueville, were members. Milton passed themost jocund hours of his life in Gray's Inn, in which college Clevelandand the author of 'Hudibras' held the meetings of their club. Wycherleyand Congreve, Aubrey and Narcissus Luttrell were Inns-of-Court men. Inlater periods we find Thomas Edwards, the critic; Murphy, the dramaticwriter; James Mackintosh, Francis Hargrave, Bentham, Curran, Canning, atLincoln's Inn. The poet Cowper was a barrister of the Temple. Amongstother Templars of the eighteenth century, with whose names theliterature of their time is inseparably associated, were Henry Fielding, Henry Brooke, Oliver Goldsmith, and Edmund Burke. Samuel Johnson residedboth in Gray's Inn and the Temple, and his friend Boswell was anadvocate of respectable ability as well as the best biographer on theroll of English writers. 

The foregoing are but a few taken from hundreds of names that illustratethe close union of Law and Literature in past times. To lengthen thelist would but weary the reader; and no pains would make a perfectmuster roll of all the literary lawyers and _legal littérateurs_ whoeither are still upon the stage, or have only lately passed away. Intheir youth four well-known living novelists--Mr. William HarrisonAinsworth, Mr. Shirley Brooks, Mr. Charles Dickens, and Mr. BenjaminDisraeli--passed some time in solicitors' offices. Mr. John Oxenford wasarticled to an attorney. Mr. Theodore Martin resembles the authors of'The Rejected Addresses' in being a successful practitioner in theinferior branch of the law. Mr. Charles Henry Cooper was a successfulsolicitor. On turning over the leaves to that useful book, 'Men of theTime, ' the reader finds mention made of the following men of letters andlaw--Sir Archibald Alison, Mr. Thomas Chisholm Anstey, Mr. WilliamEdmonstone Aytoun, Mr. Philip James Bailey, Mr. J. N. Ball, Mr. SergeantPeter Burke, Sir J. B. Burke, Mr. John Hill Burton, Mr. Hans Busk, Mr. Isaac Butt, Mr. George Wingrove Cooke, Sir E. S. Creasy, Dr. Dasent, Mr. John Thaddeus Delane, Mr. W. Hepworth Dixon, Mr. CommissionerFonblanque, Mr. William Forsyth, Q. C. , Mr. Edward Foss, Mr. WilliamCarew Hazlitt, Mr. Thomas Hughes, Mr. Leone Levi, Mr. LawrenceOliphant, Mr. Charles Reade, Mr. W. Stigant, Mr. Tom Taylor, Mr. McCullagh Torrens, Mr. M. F. Tupper, Dr. Travers, Mr. Samuel Warren, andMr. Charles Weld. Some of the gentlemen in this list are not merelynominal barristers, but are practitioners with an abundance of business. Amongst those to whom the editor of 'Men of the Time' draws attention as'Lawyers, ' and who either are still rendering or have rendered goodservice to literature, occur the names of Sir William A'Beckett, Mr. W. Adams, Dr. Anster, Sir Joseph Arnould, Sir George Bowyer, Sir JohnColeridge, Mr. E. W. Cox, Mr. Wilson Gray, Mr. Justice Haliburton, Mr. Thomas Lewin, Mr. Thomas E. May, Mr. J. G. Phillimore, Mr. James FitzJames Stephen, Mr. Vernon Harcourt, Mr. James Whiteside. Some of thedistinguished men mentioned in this survey have already passed toanother world since the publication of the last edition of 'Men of theTime;' but their recorded connexion with literature as well as law noless serves to illustrate an important feature of our social life. It isalmost needless to remark that the names of many of our ablest anonymouswriters do not appear in 'Men of the Time. '