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 THE BAR, 
 
 SKETCHES 
 
 EMINENT JUDGES, BARRISTERS, 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 A POEM, WITH NOTES 
 
 i ^ DEFABTMENT. 
 
 CET>UNT ARMi 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 rHINTED FOR HURST, ROIUNSON AND C(^ CHEArSIDE; 
 AND ROBINSON AND HERNA3IAN, LEEDS, 
 
 1825. 
 <y9 
 
<^ 
 
RIGHT HON. THOMAS LORD ERSKINE, K.T.' 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 MANY YEARS THE ORNAMENT OP 
 
 THIS POEM 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 BY HTS LORDSHir'S 
 
 MOST OBEDIENT 
 AND HUMBLE SERVANT. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 * His Lordship's death took place before this work went to press, 
 but as it had been written some time before that event, the author 
 felt unwilling to withdraw it. Indeed, the difficulty of discovering 
 a substitute for so consummate a master of forensic oratory, would, 
 of itself, be a sufficient plea for retaining it ; for should it be said 
 " detur dignissimo," and the author should be required to point out 
 the individual, he would be apt to cry out with honest Davus— 
 Davns sum-^non Mdipxis f 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The Gentlemen of the Bar have not had 
 justice done to them. Illustrious members of the 
 senate, and buskined heroes of the stage, have, 
 at various periods, exercised the poefs pen, and 
 received the homage and respect due to their 
 transcendant merits. The Bar has produced 
 the most profound lawyers and the most eloquent 
 advocates : and are they alone — they who over- 
 look nothing — to be overlooked themselves ! — 
 Must the Garrick's, the Barry's, and the 
 Kemble's — the Pitt's, the Fox's, and the Burke's 
 be recorded and immortalized in "tuneful 
 strains," and shall the Hale's, the Holt's, and the 
 Mansfield's— the Erskine's, the Garrow's, and 
 the Scarlett's — "cum multis aliis qucB nunc per- 
 scribere longum est,"' as the most erudite Wilham 
 Li'^y expresseth it — shall all these prodigies 
 of the Bench and the Bar, go down to the 
 great deep of oblivion, unhonoured and imsung? 
 
VI 
 
 Forbid it justice ! Forbid it ye guardian genii 
 — protectors of retiring worth and modest merit, 
 and aid my goose quill in endeavouring to ^' ren- 
 der unto Caesar 5 the things that are Caesar'^s,*'^ 
 while I laud the merits, and discuss — tenderly 
 discuss — the demerits — if any there be — of the 
 gentlemen of the — "long robe,"" for the use 
 and behoof of them and their successors, and, 
 as I humbly but confidently hope, to the equal 
 gratification, edification, and, peradventure, 
 mystification of the public at large, — Vale* 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Poet discovered at his Chambers in the Temple— 
 with eye " in a fine frenzy rolling" — The Postman arrives 
 with a letter — Address to the friend who sent it — lletro- 
 spection — Reflections and a simile— .The author proposeth 
 to comply with the wishes of his friend, by shewing him a 
 
 glimpse of the Courts of Law Cicero — Lycurgus — 
 
 Solon — Demosthenes ! He leaves to others to explore the 
 Mysteries of the Law, and proposeth to skim the surface 
 only, and take a view of its most distinguished members — 
 He boldly asserteth the right of fair and fair discussion — 
 but disclaimeth all private pique or personal ill wilL — 
 Address to the Muse — More retrospection — The present 
 case — The bard ceaseth to sing of himself, and proposeth to 
 chaunt the praises of other great men — He revert eth to 
 those of the " olden time" — Lord Chief Justice Gascoigne — 
 Holt — Hale — Saunders — Maynard — JefFeries, &c. &c. — 
 Mansfield — Beginning of term — Business of the courts— 
 The opening thereof — A view of Westminster-HaU — 
 Speculative and profound reflections thereon — Varieties of 
 existing nondescripts— Sketches of eminent legal characters 
 of modem times — Erskine — Garrow, &c. &c — Bayley — 
 
 Gibbs C. PhilHps Chief Justice Abbott Yaughan— 
 
 Copley — Pell — Exchequer Court — Court of Chancery — 
 Romilly, &c. &c. — Lord Chancellor Eldon— Grave reflec- 
 tions, with an address to the Lords of the Admiralty — 
 Another address to gas-light Winsor — Conclusion. 
 
THE BAR. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 UP this vast staircase lined with many a cell. 
 Where special pleaders, and pale students dwell. 
 And hatched by law, eternal discord reigns. 
 What means this tumult in a lawyer's brains ! 
 Why do I rave, and as my frenzy burns. 
 Mutter a curse and breathe a prayer by turns ! 
 Torn and distracted by overwhelming cares — 
 But hark ! the Postman, thundering up the stairs, 
 A letter brings — from Atticus it comes. 
 The best of '' fellows" and the first of " chums !" 
 
 Friend of my youth ! who oft in happier times, 
 Would'st read and e'en commend my simple rhymes. 
 With happiest art my fluttering hopes would'st raise. 
 By friendly censure, or judicious praise ; 
 Since 'tis to thee I owe this itch of rhyme, 
 (To sober folk a folly or a crime,) 
 Wilt thou from higher themes again descend 
 To listen to the gossip of thy friend ! 
 b2 
 
41 THE BAR. 
 
 Imagine then the day's dull business past. 
 And evening's musing moments come at last. 
 When all is stillness, save the distant sound 
 Of rattling coaches in eternal round. 
 Or Thames's tide with gently murmuring fall. 
 And watchmen's lonely tread and drowsy call. 
 While my faint rushlight glimmers through the trees. 
 Again thy welcome lines I con at ease ; — 
 They rouse my slumbering fancy, and I long 
 Once more to taste the sweets of ^^ sacred song !*' 
 
 But ah ! for me, the sport of wayward fate. 
 No tuneful groves nor murmuring streams await ; 
 No solitude with vernal sweets that blows. 
 No sylvan scenes of indolent repose ; 
 Where 'round the bard as evening shadows bend. 
 On rosy pinions all the Nine descend ! 
 Condemn'd to slave in ^^ Hope's delusive mine," 
 Where fortune's precious gems but rarely shine ; 
 There, doom'd to toil through tedious years in vain. 
 And waste the lamp of life for others' gain ! 
 My soul disturb'd by many a ruffling blast. 
 Heaves like the Ocean when the storm is past. 
 And pants for cloudless skies and purer air. 
 Where thunders never roll, nor lightnings glare ,* 
 
THE BAR. O 
 
 Where my vex'd spirit may at length repose, 
 And my sad eyes in peaceful slumbers close ! 
 So the lone traveller fainting and half lost. 
 Who the parch'd plains of Araby has cross'd;, 
 With rapture rests beneath some silent shade, 
 And while his weary limbs at ease are laid. 
 Safe from the burning sun and sultry blast. 
 Forgets awhile the dangers he has passed ! 
 
 Yet come, my friend — and since 'tis your desire, 
 Into our dull vocation to inquire. 
 Come — and for once the curtain 111 withdraw, 
 And shew, as on a stage^ our Courts of Law, 
 With all their solemn scenes, and actors rare, 
 Enough in truth to make a parson swear ! 
 The mighty task will all my cares repay, 
 Should'st thou but relish and commend my lay. 
 And once again reward my arduous toil. 
 With patient hearing and approving smile. 
 As festive guests applaud their host's dull song. 
 Nor seem to think e'en Chevy-Chace too long ! 
 
 Yet fancy not that I presume to trace 
 Up to its distant source the ancient race 
 Of Orators and Sages of the law. 
 Such as proud Rome beheld, or Athens saw. 
 
6 THE BAR. 
 
 When to the crowded Forum's listening throng, 
 Great TuUy pour*d his matchless strains along ; 
 Immortal strains ! now splendid^ now sublime^ 
 Doom'd to survive the wrecks of ruthless Time^ 
 And the " eternal city" to outlast. 
 With all its perishable splendours past ! 
 Or when all Greece resounded with applause, 
 When Solon or Lycurgus framed the law ; 
 And HE declaim'd,* resistless, uncontrourd. 
 Whose eloquence like heaven's own thunder roU'd, 
 Roused all her heroes' mighty hearts as one. 
 And shook the haughty tyrant on his throne.t 
 Nor yet suppose while fill'd with solemn awe, 
 I now approach more modern courts of law. 
 That the bold muse will venture to rehearse. 
 Their learned mysteries in light sportive verse. 
 Or dare to draw, as with a conjurer's rod. 
 Their dark arcana from their '^ drear abode !" 
 
 No ! let more bold adventurers explore 
 Those dreary regions of black lettered lore. 
 And deep mysterious haunts and hidden springs ; — 
 Enough for me, as with a swallow's wings. 
 Lightly to skim the surfaces of things ; 
 
 • Demosthenes attending to his celebrated phiHppics. 
 -|- Philip of Macedon. 
 
THE BAR. 
 
 Of sages old to take a bird's eye view. 
 
 And then a wider survey of the new ; 
 
 And to behold^ as in a raree-show , 
 
 What has been done, and what is doing now ; 
 
 Who are the mighty pillars of the laws. 
 
 Who best can plead, and best can judge a cause.- 
 
 '^ Beware, beware !'' methinks I hear you cry, 
 
 ^' Nor rashly thus provoke the enemy. 
 
 Lawyers are ^^ privileged" — ^besides you know. 
 
 You hit a brother — when you strike a blow. 
 
 And, setting fellowship aside — at best 
 
 You only plague and anger a wasp's nest ; 
 
 A mad experiment — which all agree 
 
 Can ne'er be practised with impunity \" 
 
 I grant it is so thought and spoken too. 
 And what the world avers must needs be true ; 
 Yet why, while every kind of public men. 
 Are held fair subjects for a critic's pen. 
 And courts are open or to you or me. 
 Say, why should Lawyers only, go ^^ scot free ?" 
 Pleading '^ prescriptive right," time out of mind, 
 ^^ Unlash'd themselves, to lash all human kind."* 
 
 * ChurchiU. 
 
8 THE BAR. 
 
 Away with such distinctions^ great or small. 
 The free-born Muse is paramount to all, 
 She deems all public characters fair game. 
 Claiming ^' prescriptive right" to praise or blame ; 
 Alike indifferent if her strictures tend 
 To please them by their freedom, or offend. 
 While independence guides her, — and so long 
 As truth and justice regulate her song ! 
 
 And here, all private pique, or groundless blame. 
 Or personal ill will, I must disclaim ; 
 No motive have I to withhold applause. 
 Or deal out censure without ^^ lawful cause." 
 Envy, thank heaven ! nor hatred e'er had part. 
 Nor malice found a corner in my heart ! 
 To invade the sanctity of private life. 
 To sow dissention, or to stir up strife. 
 Domestic peace to wither in its bloom. 
 By slanderous arts — I follow no man home ! 
 Sacred for ever be that home for me. 
 Its joys, its sorrows, and its privacy ! 
 
 No ! all the subjects that my verse engage, 
 I but regard as actors on the stage. 
 And marking how they play their several parts. 
 Weigh in the scales of justice their deserts. 
 
THE BAR. 
 
 And from the scene of action when they're gone^ 
 With theni; and their performance^ I have done. 
 
 Delightful Muse ! whose sweetly varying powers^ 
 Have often sooth'd my solitary hours^, 
 Gilded their silent gloom with heavenly ray^ 
 And made them swift as moments pass away ; 
 O now once more thy votary befriend^ 
 And all thy soul-inspiring influence lend^ 
 While boldly he essays in strains sublime^, 
 ^^ Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme !*'* 
 
 First trace we back the joyous morn of life^ 
 With healthy and strength^ and bounding spirits rife^, 
 When fired with hope;, impatient of delay^, 
 Youth's headstrong passions riot in full play^ 
 And like a fiery courser breaks away ! 
 
 * This is not exactly so ad Hiteram. In 1819 a series 
 of " Criticisms on the Bar" appeared in the Exammer 
 newspaper, which were afterwards published together in a 
 volume. The present work was ahiiost entirely written 
 before the " Criticisms" fell into the author's hands; wliich, 
 though written in that desultory manner, perhaps best 
 calculated for a weekly paper, happen frequently to coincide 
 nearly with the author's, a circumstance that may be adduced 
 as some proof at least, of their general correctness. The fea- 
 tures taken separately, may be somewhat different, but the 
 appearance of the tout ensemble is pretty much the same — 
 There are other traits of character in that work, which had 
 escaped the author's observation, of which he has availed 
 himself in retouching his ^^ Sketches." 
 
10 THE BAR. 
 
 Well if the counsel of a prudent friend 
 
 Can curb and guide them to some useful end ! 
 
 Thrice happy time ! when floats the buoyant mind, 
 
 Howe'er so rough the waves, or strong the wind. 
 
 Ne'er dreads the present malice of the fates. 
 
 Nor future evil e'er anticipates ; 
 
 When neither doubts nor dangers can appal. 
 
 But hope exults triumphant over all ! 
 
 In such a state, with school and college done. 
 Joyous and brilliant as the morning sun. 
 With gladness he prepares his course to run ! 
 With what sweet musings oft he wanders o'er 
 Those haunts which Holt or Mansfield trod before. 
 And many a kindred spirit since hath been. 
 Whose mighty names immortalize the scene I 
 
 There, while within the ^^ Temple's" hallowed 
 round. 
 His dozen terms revolve their destined round. 
 He walks beneath its venerable dome. 
 And eats his commons with some college chum^ 
 Till, his probation past, all unappall'd. 
 Boldly he takes the oaths,— -and then is '^^ call'd I" 
 
THE BAR. 11 
 
 Then from the heart with friendship's generous 
 glow. 
 Kind greetings and warm gratulations lloW;, 
 And freed from cold restraint and formal thrall, 
 Joy reigns triumphant in the apcient hall ! 
 The quip, the quirk, the laugh, the joke, the pun 
 Each other chase, and round the circle run. 
 The song, howe'er so badly chaunted, draws 
 Bravo's! and rattling thunders of applause. 
 And though its void of reason as of rhyme. 
 And badly sung, in neither tune nor time. 
 Not Braham could delight his hearers more. 
 Nor raise a louder, livelier encore !* 
 
 Thrice happy days ! none such can e'er be found. 
 Save on the busy Circuit's joyous round. 
 Where merrry Momus treats their gay abodes. 
 With nights and suppers worthy of the godst 
 Days of delight ! too brilliant to endure. 
 Which gathering clouds of care must soon obscure. 
 And storms of discord and eternal strife. 
 Deform and darken through the rest of life ! 
 
 * See a pleasant paper on this subject in a vohime of 
 essays first published in the London Magazine, luider the 
 signature oi " Elia." It is now pretty well known to have 
 proceeded from the pen of " Charles Lamb." 
 
 -j- Nodes canoqnc denm ! What the Romans oaHod 
 suppers, are now tashionable dinners ! 
 
12 r THE BAR. 
 
 Behold me then^ (the first bright season pass'd) 
 On the Law's rough and boundless ocean cast^ 
 Full freighted with a student's precious store^ 
 Bald Norman French;, and deep black lettered lore. 
 Statutes at large ^^ by Rimmington" complete. 
 In force — ^repeal'd — modern and obsolete ; 
 Correct reports of ^^ Cases in K. B." 
 Later decisions still which do n't agree, 
 Sound dicta — ^rules for ever to abide^ 
 Settled to-day — to-morrow set aside ! 
 Guide-posts with hands reversed since yesterday. 
 That only serve to lead our steps astray ! 
 With such a cargo — see me push from shore. 
 The dangers of my voyage to explore. 
 Driving to sea — no pilot at the helm. 
 When rocks appear, or sudden storms o'erwhelm. 
 Of boisterous waves, and adverse winds the sport. 
 And half despairing e'er to gain the port. 
 
 But hold ! of self enough — now go with me 
 Westminster and its lions rare to see ; 
 A sight to make you bless your ^^ lucky star" 
 For having snugly placed you where you are ! 
 
 In this vast theatre of '^ jaw" and jar, 
 Wheue human passions wage eternal war. 
 
THE BAR. 13 
 
 As fancy looks around she thinks^ alas ! 
 
 ^^ Through what new scenes and changes do we pass !" 
 
 Within these walls^ (as rolls on ocean's shore 
 
 Wave after wave and then is seen no more^) 
 
 To men of mighty names and mighty deeds^ 
 
 '^ Another and another still succeeds/' 
 
 And while intent you watch them rolling on^ 
 
 Turn but a moment and behold^ they're gone ! 
 
 Yet^ of the countless number^ some survive^ 
 Whose memory history still keeps alive^, 
 Rare mummies^ that go down to future days^ 
 Embalm'd alike by censure or by praise^ 
 Of these^ behold me now present a few 
 Whole-lengths and sketches^ to your wondering view. 
 
 First in the scanty list of mighty names^ 
 Gascoigne our reverence and attention claims^, 
 Intrepid Gascoigne ! proved in every thing. 
 The tried and true lieutenant of his king. 
 By no respect of persons ruled or sway'd. 
 Of high and low, who no distinction made. 
 And deaf alike to censure or applause. 
 Ne'er brook'd an insult to his country's laws ! 
 For when young Harry, in a reckless hour. 
 Braved with contempt his office and his power, 
 
14 THE BAR. 
 
 And dared with base indignity to treaty 
 And strike him even on the judgment seat. 
 He sent his future sovereign to the Fleet !* 
 To cool at once his passion and his heels, 
 Rack'd with those pangs a conscious sinner feels ! 
 
 Great Holt, than whom, none better knew the 
 laws. 
 Or ever better served his country's cause. 
 Who firmly every stretch of power withstood, t 
 And always labour'd for his country's good. 
 
 Lo, Hale ! in whom were curiously combined. 
 Various conflicting qualities of mind ! 
 Pious, yet bigotted and narrow soul'd. 
 And just, though oft by prejudice controul'd. 
 Profoundly ^' learned in the law," alone 
 He ruled without a rival near his throne. 
 Yet not content with that, he needs must shine 
 Philosopher, wit, poet, and divine ! 
 His fancy fill'd with whims and waking dreams. 
 And pleased with trifling visionary schemes. 
 
 * For this anecdote, which did equal honour to the 
 judge, and eventually to the sovereign, Henry V. — See 
 Hume'^s History of England. 
 
 •j- A remarkable instance of this kind is also related by 
 Hume. — History of England. 
 
THE BAR. 16 
 
 Vain of his knowledge^ to his errors blind. 
 The wisest, yet the weakest of mankind ! 
 
 So framed he wasted oft his precious nights. 
 With fawning fools, and selfish parasites ; 
 Delighted with a dainty snug repast. 
 And fond of praise and flattery to the last ! 
 Thus, ignorant though learn' d, and weak though wise. 
 He viewed things often with distorted eyes. 
 And truth or error, right or wrong surveyed. 
 As reason ruled, or superstition sway'd ; 
 Now shining forth without a fleck or flaw, 
 A luminous expounder of the law. 
 In wisdom's vast and varied treasures rich, — 
 Now — hanging an old woman for a witch !* 
 
 And there behold — a precious theme for song, 
 SAUNDERst the big, the bulky, and the strong. 
 Whom, as a perfect wonder of her trade. 
 Capricious nature in a frolic made ; 
 And in the heterogeneous lump combined, ' 
 Things most admired or hated in mankind ! 
 
 Grossly debauch'd, intemperate excess. 
 He lived not quite a brute, but little less ; 
 
 * Vide Appendix A. f Ai)pendix B. 
 
16 THE BAR. 
 
 Redeem'd by rare endowments^ that combined. 
 Proved beyond doubt the monster had a mind ! 
 
 Awaken'd from his beer and brandy dose. 
 Flushed with the night's debauch, at morn he rose. 
 With bloated face, and bloodshot blinking eye. 
 Behold the hog come reeking from his stye. 
 In court arrived, he waddles to his place. 
 Belching unsavoury fumes in every face ! 
 In vain they growl with dark forbidding frown. 
 Like a huge stinking dunghill he squats down, 
 Pois'ning the air with his pestiferous breath. 
 And almost stifling Bench and Bar to death. 
 
 Yet spite of all his faults, behold this odd 
 Strange compound at the bar a demi-god ! 
 With coarse good humour, and exhaustless wit. 
 That every point of every case can fit ; 
 Generous as just, from selfish feelings free. 
 As pleased to give as to receive a fee ; 
 He sits the great Silenus of the court. 
 At once the student's wonder and their sport. 
 While midst the ribbald sallies that abound. 
 Recondite learning, and instruction sound. 
 Flow from the filthy vessel that contains 
 The lucid distillation of his brains. 
 
THE BAR. 17 
 
 Lo ! while he speaks^ in groups they throng as near 
 As their disturbed olfactory nerves can bear. 
 To the rare precious things his mouth discloses. 
 Opening their ears, and stopping all their noses ! 
 And gathering seeds of knowledge from his tongue 
 As hungry sparrows pick up grains from dung ! 
 
 But when on things suh judice, he spoke, 
 He proved that he could go " beyond a joke !" 
 And in his face when opposition stared. 
 He stood for all emergencies prepared ; 
 And knew so well to attack, or to defend. 
 That when he laboured to attain his end. 
 With so much art, and such effect he'd plead — 
 That not the Bench, with Jefperies at their head. 
 Though trench'd by envy, hatred, and ill-will. 
 Could long resist his subtlety and skill. 
 Forced to give up, reluctantly, what pride 
 And prejudice unjustly had denied. 
 
 Or, if in merrier mood, he waged war 
 Against the lighter legions of the Bar, 
 Weapons of every sort he had at will. 
 Which he could use with equal force and skill ; 
 And when his vexed opponents filFd with rage. 
 The monster ^^ vi et armis' durst engage, 
 c 
 
18 THE BAR. 
 
 He fought and foird them^ as a thing of sporty 
 And laugh'd^ or fairly stunk them out of court. 
 Strange mortal mixture of this earthly mouldy 
 Whose memory stands in history's page unroird^ 
 Doom'd to remain beyond life's narrow span, 
 A satire and an eulogy on man ! 
 In vain oblivion claims him for her own — 
 Like a dead carcase on the waters thrown. 
 His rottenness prevents his sinking down. 
 
 There subtle Maynard* *^4aid his traps/' and there 
 Sat brutal Jefferies^t savage as a bear ; 
 With fluster'd face, fierce looks, and thundering tone. 
 Enough to turn his hearers into stone. 
 Ferocious as a savage of the wood. 
 Foaming with rage — athirst for human blood ; 
 Nor age nor sex were spared at his command. 
 Nor innocence itself could stay his murderous hand ! 
 A monster ! by his vices and his crimes 
 Preserved from perishing to after times. 
 As poisonous reptiles are by spirits kept 
 From turning to the dust in which they crept. 
 
 * " Maynard was made King's Antient Serjeant, but 
 never rose higher — He was a very able practiser, and used 
 to lay traps for the Judges, and very cunning ones." For 
 other curious particulars of this learned lawyer, see North'' s 
 Life of Lord Guilford^ vol. 1. 
 
 -f- See Appendix C. 
 
THE BAR. 19 
 
 There Foster* ruled^ in all his dealings just. 
 And GuiLFORD^t ever faithful to his trust. 
 And after a long barren interval, 
 Oame Mansfield:}; — wiser, greater than them all ! 
 O could my Muse breathe an immortal lay, 
 Her humble tribute would she gladly pay 
 To him, the virtuous and enlightened sage. 
 The glory of his country and his age. 
 But ah ! she feels, thus daring to aspire. 
 Her ^' talents sink beneath her proud desire," 
 And in despair unstrings her trembling lyre ; 
 Conscious already that recording fame 
 Has stamped with imniortality his name. 
 
 But hark ! huge porters with loud echoing ring. 
 The clanging doors back on their hinges fling ! 
 The Term begins ! the ancient structure shakes. 
 And startled silence from her slumber wakes ! 
 Now, full of bustle like a summer hive 
 Of bees, the busy Temple's all alive ! 
 
 * " This eminent lawyer, after practising in his native 
 place with reputation, was, on the recommendation of 
 Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, made one of the Judges of 
 the Court of King's Bench, in which capacity he main- 
 tained his station with great credit for legal knowledge and 
 integrity, &c," — Biograph. Diet. 
 
 -f See North's Life. X See Appendix D. 
 
 c2 
 
20 THE BAR. 
 
 Grave gownsmen^ full of thought^ ^^to chambers" hie. 
 
 From court to court, perplexed, attornies fly ; 
 
 A Dowling* each ! quick scouring to and fro. 
 
 And wishing he could cut himself in two. 
 
 That he two places at a time might reach. 
 
 So he could charge his ^^ six and eightpence" each. 
 
 Through the dark regions of the low'ring sky. 
 Now red-taird writs like angry comets fly. 
 Portentous in their course ! with fear of change 
 Perplexing awe-struck mortals as they range. 
 Attornies' clerks in haste each other greet, 
 And porters hurry on from street to street. 
 Now watchful Bums,t (dark messengers of fate,) 
 In lurking corners for their victims wait. 
 
 Now Special Pleaders all their skill display. 
 And spin, like spiders, through the live-long day. 
 Their subtle webs to catch their careless prey ! 
 Pleas, declarations, and replies abound. 
 Eventful '^ issues" thicken o'er the ground. 
 And every hostile movement pro and con, 
 '' Gives dreadful note of preparation." 
 
 * A celebrated character in " Tom Jones." 
 -j- 5wm-bailifFs, a corruption of 6ow/ic?-bailiffs, so called 
 from their being bound to the sheriffs for the due execution 
 of their duties. 
 
THE BAR. 21 
 
 While ^^ notices of trial" sound from far^, 
 The signal of a dreadful — ^^ paper war/* 
 
 Lo ! through the Hall^* indulging harmless talk^ 
 In full costume the learned judges walk^ 
 Greet their grave brethren — nod — shake hands and 
 
 bow. 
 Gracious this day to all — a goodly shew ! 
 Grimly they smile, as slowly they advance. 
 The pinks of courtesy and complaisance, 
 As if their pictured ancestors of yore 
 Had left their frames and stepped upon the floor ! 
 And now, with due solemnity of face. 
 And needful form, each judge resumes his place. 
 Business begins, no time must now be lost, 
 But every man stand ready at his post. 
 
 Now for awhile silk gownsmen sit at ease, 
 And lucky juniors pick up straggling fees. 
 ^^'^ Motions of course'* are heard on things "of straw,*' 
 And heavy arguments on /*" points of law.** 
 Now needy debtors, to escape a gaol. 
 For trifles purchase excellent " leg bail,** 
 
 * Westminster-Hall. 
 
22 THE BAR. 
 
 And perjured villains^ in mere wanton sport;, 
 Swallow their oaths^ and ^^ justify in court." 
 Drilled and instructed with some artful tale^ 
 Now rogues come up to get discharged from gaol. 
 And should some scoundrel's case admit a doubt. 
 Oaths by the dozen may be cheaply bought. 
 To dupe his creditors and ^^ buff him out/'* 
 
 O shame to Britain ! and her guardian laws, 
 (The just proud theme of wonder and applause,) 
 Calmly to slumber, while from year to year 
 Such flagrant vile abuses still appear; 
 And hardened villains, as a dextrous feat. 
 Thus dare to beard e'en justice on her seat. 
 
 And now at length, these formal matters o'er. 
 Come the dread ^*^ sittings" — when men smile no more. 
 
 Now, well-pleased, the hackney-coachmen, wet 
 or dry. 
 Betwixt '' the Temple" and Westminster ply. 
 
 * " Buff him out" — this is, or used to be, done by 
 getting a person to make an affidavit that the party, at 
 whose suit the debtor is in prison, has been duly served with 
 a copy of the schedule required by the statute, Slc so that 
 when he was brought up to be examined, his discharge took 
 place as a thing oi course, there being no opposition on the 
 part of the plaintiff, who of course remained ignorant of 
 the nefarious proceedings. 
 
THE BAR. 23 
 
 Oft raising the whip-hand^ now here now there. 
 Anxious to catch an eye^ and get ^^ a fare." 
 Quickly from court to courts now in_, now out;, 
 Grave barristers with brief-bags move about. 
 Some with large full ones, some with mighty small. 
 And many more, alas ! with none at all ; 
 Talking in pairs, pacing to and fro, 
 A certain sign they've nothing else to do. 
 
 Now briskly through the ^^ Hall" a numerous 
 
 throng. 
 With business-looking phizzes, drive along. 
 Or stand in motley groups, with anxious faces. 
 Debating on the merits of their ^^ cases." 
 Exulting Discord flaps his raven wings. 
 And round her dark portentous shadow flings. 
 Rank above rank, array' d in wig and gown. 
 Her presence feel, her baleful influence own. 
 From the bash'd junior, who first holds a brief. 
 To the bold ^^Leader" who commands in chief; 
 While hood-wink'd justice holds her trembling 
 
 scales. 
 Which rise or sink as right or wrong prevails. 
 For wrong sometimes, '^ in truth or reason's spite," 
 Or human skill, will triumph over right. 
 
24 THE BAR. 
 
 Ranged on each side in battle's dread array, 
 Contending hosts await the impending fray. 
 While mingled hopes and fears their bosoms sway. 
 Soon, soon amidst the shock, (for fall some must,) 
 Shall plaintiffs or defendants bite the dust. 
 In various shapes, to mortal vision clear. 
 Soon shall the dark decrees of fate appear. 
 Withdrawn Records, for ^^ cause unknown'' abound. 
 And sudden nonsuits '^ turn the plaintiffs round," 
 Or unexpected facts, like ghosts arise. 
 To start and ^'^trip their heels up" by surprise. 
 Or, (while ^^ old stagers" chuckle at the sport,) 
 Like a strong whirlwind, '^^^blow them out of court !" 
 Prostrate defendants, by some lucky flaw. 
 Some blundering verdict, or some '^ point of law," 
 Shall rise, and getting on their legs again. 
 Victorious masters of the field remain. 
 Full many then who go into the fray. 
 Right sure to win — shall rue the fatal day. 
 And, sad reverse ! have all the costs to pay ! 
 While the proud victor, with success elate. 
 Rejoicing at his lost disastrous fate. 
 O'er his fall'n foe exults with fiend-like glee. 
 Himself half ruin'd by his victory. 
 
THE BAR. 25 
 
 Now turn around^ and looking wide and far. 
 Survey the numerous offspring of ^^ The Bar/' 
 ^"Heavens!" you exclaim^, and ^^can all these contrive 
 By law alone to keep themselves alive/' 
 Alas ! your judgment well may make a stand — 
 But did not fortune with a bounteous hand. 
 Larger and more substantial rations carve. 
 Than law — believe me many here would starve. 
 But hush — awhile let roving fancy pause. 
 And listen while the muse unfolds the cause. 
 And then you'll cease to wonder why so few 
 Their arduous calling with success pursue. 
 Of such a number foolish, weak and wise. 
 In intellect as various as in size ; 
 'Tis hard to make a stranger understand 
 Their characters — yet take a few off hand. 
 
 Foolish or not, all men would fain be wise. 
 Or seem to be in other people's eyes. 
 " Men should be what they seem' — 'tis true, so far — 
 But sad experience says they seldom are. 
 Yet he who wise or good but seems to be 
 Before the world — wins half the victory ; 
 For men, with what is visible, imprest. 
 Will readily give credit for the rest. 
 
26 THE BAR. 
 
 Pert as a prating parrot;, and as vain^, 
 And gifted with a like extent of brain^ 
 With twinkling ray of judgment by whose light 
 He barely can distinguish wrong from right; 
 Fond of orations that are loud and long^ 
 This thinks — nor ever doubts he may be wrong — > 
 All knowledge lies in words^ be what it may^ 
 So seldom gives his tongue a holiday. 
 Before the bench he makes a mighty rout^ 
 Like one who never knows what he's about, 
 And if '^ my Lud^'' amidst his hubbub-boo — 
 Submit without a check to hear him through. 
 With strings of trite ^^ wise saws" and musty jokes. 
 So much, yet to so little purpose talks. 
 That midst the bulky heap — for his intent 
 And meaning, when you sift his argument. 
 You find — enough to make a Crassus* laugh — • 
 A grain of wheat amidst a sack of chaff. — • 
 Yet he still fancies, with himself content. 
 His speech a clear convincing argument. 
 And though he leaves his point involved in doubt. 
 Cries '' '^vpeical behold Tve found it out V 
 
 * Crassus — a philosopher of old, who is said never to 
 have laughed but once in his Hfe— and that at seeing an ass 
 chewing a thistle. 
 
THE BAK. 27 
 
 Which only proves that the conceited elf 
 Instead of finding that^ has lost himself. 
 
 Different in kind^ but equal in degree. 
 Another dunce thinks all the world must see 
 There must be wisdom where there's gravity ! 
 Still rivers — he has heard — are always deep. 
 Ergo he sits as though he were asleep. 
 Ne'er dreaming there's a difference, poor fool. 
 Betwixt a river and a standing pool. 
 Pregnant with dulness, full of solemn awe. 
 If 'tis his lot to moot some point of law. 
 Behold him slowly rising in his place. 
 With assinine solemnity of face. 
 Anxious to give his labouring pangs relief. 
 And to unload his bosom and his brief. 
 Forth comes by driblets then, an hour's harangue 
 Of puzzling unintelligible slang. 
 Till half the drowsy bar are heard to snore. 
 And worn-out patience can endure no more. 
 
 There's one — a self-sufficient ^' son of earth," 
 A spoil'd child coxcomb almost from his birth. 
 His father's only hope, his mother's pride. 
 Greater to them than all the world beside ; 
 But let them think him great as e'er they will. 
 He in his own opinion's greater still. 
 
28 THE BAB. 
 
 Of learning he has got just such a store. 
 As makes him fancy he can learn no more ; 
 Like ideots happy in their ignorance;, 
 He lingers in a kind of waking trance. 
 Thinking though he ne'er stir — -he must advance. 
 By day, bright hopes inspire him, and by night, 
 ^'^ Visions of glory mock" his dazzled sight. 
 He dreams he is a Mansfield or a Holt, 
 He wakes, and finds in bed — a stupid dolt ; 
 And while away his fancied honours flee, 
 A stupid dolt he must for ever be. 
 
 Lo Curio ! a lawyer and a wit — > 
 And, as may be supposed, for neither fit. 
 Just trammelled in the rudiments of law. 
 Ere further than the vestibule he saw, 
 A brighter ^^ land of promise" he beheld. 
 And suddenly against old Coke rebelled. 
 Longing to get a modicum or plot. 
 Where Little* such a large demesne had got ; 
 And as that amorous frisky child of passion. 
 With his ^' sweet loves" are rather out of fashion. 
 And prudent mothers place the naughty man. 
 And all his choice prolusions under ban ; 
 
 The celebrated Thomas Little, Esq. alias httle Thomas. 
 
THE BAR. 29 
 
 While maids begin to think their mothers riglit 
 
 To keep such dainty ditties out of sight ; 
 
 No sin original he perpetrates^ 
 
 But takes an easier method^ and translates. 
 
 And since no mortal creature e'er can be 
 
 Quite good or bad at once^* — so wisely he 
 
 Begins a sober work^ that yet contains 
 
 A spice of seasoning in its mawkish strains^ 
 
 As elegies from Ovid or TibuUus^, 
 
 Or the more melting murmurings of CatuUus.t 
 
 His readers with a face of wonder ask — 
 
 ^^ Is this Catullus ? — then he wears a mask ! 
 
 No danger can assault the gentle sex 
 
 From one whose vizor serves but to perplex. 
 
 While they can neither hear his voice, nor trace 
 
 One charming feature of his beauteous face.*' 
 
 ^^ Ne sutor ultra crepidam,'' you cry — 
 
 " Lawyers should stick to prose/' — and so say I, 
 
 Sinner myself, I know it, and condemn 
 
 From past experience, the sin in them ; 
 
 * Nemo repente, &c. 
 •|- Vide an elegantly printed work in two vohnnes, 
 published in 1821, by Murray, called "A Translation of 
 Catullus," by the Hon. G. Lamb, and also the various 
 critiques upon it in the Reviews of the day. The author, 
 it is said, has since quitted the bar, and taken refuge in the 
 church. 
 
30 THE BAR. 
 
 And so sage Blackstone thought^ and in good time^ 
 
 For sober prose exchanged his lively rhyme^ 
 
 To law a faithful Benedict became^ 
 
 But first resolved to quit his former flame^ 
 
 One tender strain breath'd from his tuneful shell 
 
 And to his gentle mistress bade farewell.* 
 
 Poor Curio knows it^ to his heart's content. 
 And his backsliding must by this repent. 
 Since genuine poets, a disdainful race. 
 Deny him in their fellowship a place. 
 And learned sages as the world e'er saw. 
 Think he'll ne'er be a Solomon in law. 
 The critic cries — shaking his knowing sconce, 
 ^^ Lawyer and bard he ne'er can be at once." 
 And all the world, amidst the mighty pother. 
 Are apt to think he's neither one nor t'other. 
 
 Another, of all cases far the worst — > 
 O strange to say ! — ^with diffidence is cursed ! 
 Tho' not devoid of judgment, or of skill. 
 Like a young soldier lounging up to drill. 
 He always goes to court against his will ; 
 
 * See his " Farewell to the Muse," which is no indif- 
 ferent specimen of his talents for poetry. 
 
THE BAR. 31 
 
 And should he have ^^ a motion'' or '^ a case/' 
 Straight he puts on a rueful length of face. 
 With tremors strange his fluttering pulses beat^ 
 And his blood quickly mounts to '^ fever heat ;" 
 He neither can go on^ nor yet retreat ! 
 But if, encouraged by the indulgent judge^ 
 From his desponding slough he can but budge^, 
 With mighty eflfort should he march indeed^, 
 Push on with vigour^ and at length succeed ; 
 Yet ne'er so happy does he think his doom^ 
 As when the court breaks up^ and sends him home. 
 There^, snug ^' in chambers" all his troubles end^ 
 And there^ or in some tavern with a friend^ 
 He talks in social chat^ his troubles o'er^ 
 And promises — to ^^ go and sin no more^" 
 And while his fears and fancied torments cease. 
 He eats his chop and sips his punch in peace. 
 
 So, when in Bond- street's brilliant promenade, 
 A chosen junta go to ^^ high parade,"* 
 Gaily equipp'd in '^ Allen' s"t choice array, 
 That serves their pretty persons to display. 
 And shew at once the ^' fashion of the day." 
 
 * " High-parade," there, like " High-change," in 
 " the city," is from two to four o'clock or later. 
 
 -|- "Allen's" — a fashionable Schneider Aiiglicc iidlox 
 in that quarter. 
 
32 THE BAR. 
 
 With conscious pleasure they lounge thro' the street^ 
 Of fashion and of folly the elites, 
 While all the world with gaze intent pursue. 
 Eager to hear a voice, or catch a view. 
 
 Silent and slow, amidst the motley throng. 
 Should some lone stranger chance to pass along. 
 An ancient remnant of the good ^^ old school,'' 
 Who still unchanging — does all things ^^ by rule." 
 With ^^ clouded cane/* and wig of ample fold. 
 And coat of cut — some half a century old ; 
 Three corner'd hat — ruffles and frills to suit — 
 And many a quaint appurtenance to boot. 
 He thinks unnoticed he may ^^ take the air," 
 But soon perceives that he provokes a stare 
 With many a shrug and wrath- exciting smile — 
 Vex'd, harassed and uneasy all the while. 
 Fretting at ^^ change of times," without delay. 
 He from the ^^ genteel rabble" turns away. 
 And hastens to his walk to put an end. 
 To shake the hand of some old quondam friend. 
 Some kindred soul or two, with whom he may 
 Rail at the tasteless fopperies of the day. 
 And talk of '' better times" long passed away ! 
 
 Others with owlish gravity of face 
 Are doom'd to rest like fixtures in the place 
 
THK BAR. 33 
 
 From which their broad foundations^ ere they move. 
 
 Like Baxter's* christians, oft require '' a shove ;" 
 
 And thus — heaven grant them patience and relief — 
 
 Will sit for years and never hold a brief; 
 
 As honest Danser, who could read you Greek, 
 
 Yet knew, than Poll, no better how to speak ; 
 
 Who once at a demurrer tried his hand. 
 
 But thence retreating wisely made a stand. 
 
 For struggling in a fallow field of doubt. 
 
 He fairly stuck, and never could get out !t 
 
 Or Raincock,J in geometry who shines. 
 
 Screwing his face into a thousand lines. 
 
 Curves, angles, parallelograms, and squares. 
 
 At which, with horror poor dame nature stares ! 
 
 He, all the while, unconscious of grimace. 
 
 Sits lost in thought profound ; while void of grace. 
 
 Young barristers enjoy the glorious fun, 
 
 * Alluding to a well known treatise by the " pious 
 Richard Baxter," with a singularly quamt and ludicrous 
 title. 
 
 -f- This demurrer arose out of an action of trespass, the 
 locus in quo being a fallow field, when after proceeding as 
 long as he could, one of the Judges observed that the learned 
 counsel had stuck fast in the ploughed iield, and he advised 
 him to get out again as soon as he could, which kind hint 
 was immediately taken. Mr. D. is said to be a very good 
 Grecian. 
 
 X The learned Recorder of . He is said to 
 
 be well skilled in geometry, and goes on part of the Northern 
 Circuit. 
 
34 THE BAR. 
 
 And many a jibe and joke^ and villainous pun. 
 Are slyly handed round from one to one. 
 
 If these sad specimens of dullness strike. 
 Yet fancy not that all are dull alike — 
 Many there are, mix'd up among the rest. 
 With genius, taste, and soundest judgment blest. 
 Whose powers, by nature given with liberal hand. 
 Wait but a genial season to expand ; 
 Sure, if no blight destroy their vernal prime. 
 To blossom and bear fruit some future time ; 
 
 Of this select rare class, if small the store. 
 Between the two there yet are many more. 
 To that sad mediocrity allied. 
 
 Which neither gods, nor men, nor columns can abide !^ 
 Whom but to name were wilful waste of breath. 
 And toil enough to tire a man to death. 
 
 Then turn your eyes — yon chosen band pursue. 
 And mark them as they march in full review. 
 ]\Iuse ! who hast struck thy tuneful harp in praise 
 Of orators of other, brighter days. 
 
 * Mediocris, esse poetis, 
 
 Non homines, non Di, non concessere columnse. — Hor, 
 
THE liAK. 35 
 
 Say^ if thou can'st^ amongst the modern race^ 
 Whose wigs and gowns fill up each hallowed place, 
 Who are the mighty chiefs, whose fame remains 
 Yet to be sung in thine immortal strains! 
 But lo ! ere yet the catalogue's begun. 
 Deaths or promotion^ squanders one by one ! 
 And ah ! the Muse here fondly turns her gaze 
 To scenes remoter — ^to more brilliant days. 
 Days ever hallowed in forensic lore. 
 And sighs to think, as memory calls them o*er. 
 That matchless Erskine charms the court no more. 
 
 With playful wit at once and manly sense. 
 And all the charms of graceful eloquence, 
 .No more he moulds a jury to his will. 
 And while grave judges nod, with wondrous skill. 
 Bids the spring tide of varying passions roll. 
 Resistless, through each channel of the soul. 
 
 Of ardent mind^ with just ambition fired. 
 No danger e'er appall' d, no labour tired. 
 Scorning the beaten mill-horse round to trace. 
 Where Dulness travels with unvarying pace. 
 He dared ^^ with brave disorder" oft depart 
 To '^^ snatch a grace beyond the reach of art." 
 And far above those sluggish sons of earth. 
 Who, grub-like, love the soil that gave them birth, 
 1)2 
 
36 THE BAR- 
 
 Upwards he sprung^ amid the sun's bright glare. 
 To roam through realms of light, and life, and air. 
 
 While bats iri dusky twilight wheel around. 
 And blinking owls in darkness skim the ground. 
 So wings the bird of Jove his lofty flight. 
 To pierce the regions of empyreal light. 
 And on strong pinion borne, with stedfast gaze. 
 Mounts o'er the clouds amid the solar blaze. 
 Through his long course, with fancy fresh and prime. 
 And judgment, mellow' d by the hand of time ; 
 Consummate master of forensic art, 
 'Twas his each fine emotion to impart. 
 That charms the senses, or that melts the heart. 
 And, as his varying periods roU'd along. 
 In magic tones — the captivated throng 
 Heard with delighted hopes, or thrilling fears. 
 The music or the thunder of the spheres ! 
 While fiU'd with admiration aud surprize. 
 And scarce believing either ears or eyes, 
 Charm'd jurymen, ere passion could subside. 
 Gave what their cooler moments had denied. 
 
 As some bright comet, flashing through the sky. 
 Whose brilliant orb attracts the upraised eye. 
 Whose track mysterious, and portentous fires, 
 Delight at once and solemn awe inspires. 
 
THE BAR. 37 
 
 While meaner stars hide their diminished rays. 
 Lost in the light of its effulgent blaze. 
 Closes at length in gloom its bright career. 
 And then the twinkling stars again appear ; 
 So he, while fame, unclouded still by time. 
 Shone in full glory o'er his course sublime. 
 With setting splendour, left his throne of light. 
 And all again was '^ chaos and old night/' 
 
 Hail ! and farewell to the ascendant star. 
 The pride, the ^^ dulce decus* of the Bar ! 
 Farewell thine eloquence, and only thine. 
 Its pomp and prodigality divine ; 
 Now shining bright and soft as morning dews, 
 Colour'd with fancy's fine prismatic hues. 
 Glancing their varying tints at every turn. 
 Now fill'd with '^ thoughts that breathe and words 
 
 that burn ;" 
 That like heaven's lightning flashed beyond controul. 
 Their fire electric through the inmost soul. 
 To these a long farewell ! 
 
 Yet long as liberty the soul delights. 
 And Britons cherish and maintain their riirhts. 
 Long as they love their country's sacred cause. 
 And prize the safest bulwark of their laws. 
 
38 THE BAR, 
 
 So long shall be, with freedom's loud acclaim, 
 ^^ Trial by Jury'' link'd with Erskine's name. 
 
 Homage like this e'en / may dare impart, 
 'Tis honest, and flows freely from the heart. 
 Unskill'd to praise, unwilling to ofltnd. 
 My verse is framed to gain no private end. 
 But comes imbued with truth's fresh genuine glow, 
 PVom one thou never knew'st, and ne'er wilt know; 
 One, who to fortune and to fame unknown. 
 Boasts not to rank with bards of high renown. 
 Yet springs with pride from dull oblivion's gloom. 
 To hang his garland where thine honours bloom ; 
 And while thy name sounds from his simple shell. 
 Bids thee with conscious pride — hail and farewell !* 
 Brow-beating GARROwt ^'^ pours his throat" no more. 
 Strains every nerve, and sweats at every pore ; 
 
 * See Appendix E. 
 
 •]- Now one of the Barons of the Exchequer. He was 
 a very able advocate, as he ought to be who was opposed to 
 such a man as Erskine, which he was for many years. Of 
 his various qualifications for the bar, his talent for cross- 
 examination was that by which he v/as most distinguished, 
 and indeed for which he was altogether unrivalled. This, 
 and his general acuteness and thorough knowledge of the 
 tactical part of his profession, enabled him to maintain the 
 contest in his course of legal warfare "through many a well 
 fought day," to great advantage, and often with success. 
 
 The star of his professional glory seems to have set on 
 his retirement from the bar, since which time he has added 
 nothing to his reputation as a lawyer. 
 
THE BAR. 39 
 
 The arts of base hypocrisy to trace^, 
 Or tear the vizor from the villain's face. 
 Subtle and sly, than him none better knew 
 Fraud's dark and dubious labyrinth to pursue ; 
 And when with winding step and piercing ken 
 He found the monster lurking in his den. 
 Perforce he dragged him from the secret maze,* 
 And, like a wild-beast, to the public gaze 
 Exposed his savage looks, and garb forlorn, 
 A finger-mark for ridicule and scorn. 
 
 Of manners haughty, but of learning vast. 
 Unbending LAWREXCEt bows his head at last ; 
 And sage Le Blanc, who with a proper pride. 
 Courteous at once, appeared, and dignified; 
 And with firm tone, and gentlemanly ease. 
 Insured respect, yet never fail'd to please. 
 
 Versed in the subtle tactics of the law. 
 And all its varied learning, — next we saw 
 
 * Peclibusque informe cadaver 
 
 Protrahitur — Virg. 
 f Lawrence one of the Judges of the ling's Bench, 
 now deceased. Mr. Justice Le Blanc is also 
 " Gone to that distant bourne 
 From wlience no traveller returns,'' 
 
40 THE BAR, 
 
 Bayley* adorn the bench^ — mild, pious, kinder 
 
 With honest heart and highly gifted mind ; 
 
 High in his office, of commanding mien. 
 
 With aspect ever cheerful and serene ; 
 
 Mild, yet decisive, gentle, yet direct. 
 
 He wins affection, and commands respect ; • 
 
 And rules the Bar with such a temperate sway. 
 
 That it becomes a pleasure to obey. 
 
 Yet, should some self-sufficient coxcomb, dare 
 
 To trespass on decorum's rules too far. 
 
 Despite of his authority — then he 
 
 Knows well how to assert his dignity. 
 
 And from presuming prate or disrespect. 
 
 His station and his office to protect.f 
 
 Before him, when brought up with gasping breath 
 The guilty felon stands, on life and death, 
 
 * Of the King's Bench, He is the author of a treatise 
 on Bills of Exchange and Promissory Notes, &c. &c. 
 
 -|- A memorable instance of this kind did once occur at 
 York AssizeSo A certain leading counsel of the day, was 
 contesting some point of law, which he persisted in main- 
 taining even against the opinion of the Judge, who after 
 remonstrating with the learned gentleman several times 
 without effect, at length desired him to sit down. This not 
 being complied with, his Lordship rose with great dignity, 
 and in a tone of authority that would not be denied — said — 
 
 " Mr. P if you do not respect me^ at the least I'll make 
 
 you respect the situation I hold." This " grave rebuke" 
 had the desired effect. 
 
THE JJAR. 41 
 
 Pierced with his looks, he trembles and sinks down, 
 (For what so awful as a good man's frown,) 
 Yet, in the softened glances of his eyes. 
 Soon he beholds divine compassion rise ; 
 And as he sees the welcome sign appear. 
 Looks up again with mingled hope and fear. 
 While HE forgets the culprit in the man. 
 Tries all the means that human wisdom can. 
 And the lost wretch with every art befriends. 
 To snatch him from the danger that impends. 
 But should his skilful efforts prove in vain. 
 He '' does his office'* with regret and pain ; 
 And as in terms, that strike with solemn awe. 
 He passes the dread sentence of the law. 
 His faltering accents, and the tears that start. 
 Attest the manly feelings of his heart. 
 In Bayley we perceive that chance or fate. 
 In spite of nature, changes man's estate. 
 And thus, her wise and kind intentions foil'd. 
 In him behold a rare good parson spoil'd.* 
 
 * It is reported that his Lordship was once heard to 
 say, that he should prefer being a country clerg^mian, with 
 a comfortable vicarage, (including of course that useful and 
 necessary appendage — a good benefice,) to being made liord 
 Chief Justice ! His Lordship is remarkable (amongst other 
 shining or solid qualities) for his piety, Avhich he strongly 
 manifests (some think too strongly) by " outward and visi- 
 
42 
 
 THE BAR. 
 
 But tho' the church might have received with pride 
 Such talents^ with such virtues close allied ; 
 Yet^ 'midst the perils of these ticklish times^, 
 Pregnant with strife^ and fruitful of strange crimes^, 
 A judge of such materials^, rich and rare^ 
 111 could the sovereign or the country spare.* 
 
 Keen caustic Gibbs now seeks upon the bench. 
 In ermine, his ill humours to entrench. 
 Safe from the piercing arrows of small-talk. 
 Or Topping's war-whoop and dread tomahawk. t 
 Where envy's self will not deny or grudge 
 The praise he justly merits as a Judge. 
 
 ble signs" when in a place of worship during service. He 
 has published an edition of the Common Prayer Book 
 with notes. 
 
 * On the death of the late Lord Ellenborough, all eyes 
 were turned upon this excellent Judge, and why he was not 
 appointed to succeed that eminent person, has been a sub- 
 ject of wonder much discussed amongst all parties. Certain 
 it is, that such an appointment would have been hailed with 
 pleasure by the bar, and with satisfaction by the country at 
 large. 
 
 '|- The keen and waspish conduct of Sir Vicary Gibbs 
 (then Attorney General) on various occasions, is well re- 
 membered, as is also the severe, and, as was thought at the 
 time, well merited rebuke which the late Mr. Topping 
 administered to him on one of those occasions when he had 
 treated the latter with somewhat too much of his sarcastic 
 humour, a thing not to be endured by that undaunted vin- 
 dicator of the rights of the bar, with impunity. 
 
43 
 
 Topping and Scarlett now the troops lead on 
 Of which redoubted heroes — more anon !* 
 Jervis and Raine in patient silence chew 
 The cud of calm reflection — while below 
 Grave Gurney sits^ with ample nose hooked iu;, 
 As if to scrape acquaintance with his chin ; 
 Steady and cool^ on him from end to end 
 Safely his anxious client may depend. 
 With careful tread^ and nice sagacious nose^, 
 Like a staunch pointer o'er his ground he goes, 
 Follows the true scent with unerring aim^ 
 Nor ever makes di point but where there's game. 
 
 There mighty Marriott^ with discordant strain^, 
 Toils through his case^ and seldom toils in vain. 
 Thinking plain truth requires ^^no flowers of speech^" 
 He never tries if they're v/ithin his reach^ 
 But goes straight forwards till his journey's done. 
 Ne'er tempted from his road by joke or pun. 
 Laborious, as if working by the hour^ 
 Like a steam engine of enormous power. 
 With force mechanic, and resistless strength. 
 He gets through work of any breadth or length, 
 
 * See Part II. 
 
44 THE BAR. 
 
 Though hard as steely or ponderous as lead^ 
 And never flags so long as he is fed.* 
 
 Lo ! fresh imported from his ^^ Emerald Isle/' 
 Hibernian PniLLiPst joins the British file;, 
 Whom Dublin when his course he first began^ 
 Pronounced '^ a very promising young man^," 
 Nay whom they even ventured to proclaim 
 Presumptive heir to matchless Currants fame ; 
 Yet though the mighty monarch's since removed,, 
 His title to the throne remains unproved. 
 
 But what a difiPerence ! heaven and earth ! the one 
 A royal eagle soaring to the sun^ 
 Steady and strong and daring in his flighty 
 Piercing with stedfast eye the realms of light ; 
 Or cleaving through the air his rapid way^, 
 And darting swift as lightning on his prey ! 
 Lord of the air around^, below^ above — • 
 In every motion stiU the bird of Jove. 
 
 * Fed, i.e. figuratively fee^d. To feed an engine (with 
 fuel) and to /e^<i lawyers, are synonymous terms, and equally 
 indispensable too ! 
 
 -f Charles Phillips, Esq. late of the Irish Bar, but now 
 of the English Bar. 
 
THE BAR. 45 
 
 The other a keen hawk that when he flies^ 
 Skimming the fields or mounting to the skies. 
 Flutters his wings aloft — ^then comes down souse. 
 Pouncing upon a sparrow or — a mouse ! 
 
 That was like lightning thro' the tempest driven. 
 Flashed from the dread artillery of heaven ! 
 This a theatric torch-flare one may call. 
 And the loud rumbling of the mustard ball.* 
 
 The one a comet with disastrous glare. 
 Gleaming portentous through the troubled air. 
 Startling whole nations with its awful light — • 
 The other a mere school-boy's paper kite. 
 Borne fluttering forwards on the eddying gale. 
 With a brave blazing lantern at its tail. 
 
 This is a river swollen to a flood — 
 Breaking its bounds and covering many a rood. 
 
 «* " With thunder rumbHng from the mustard bowl." 
 
 Pope. 
 The author has a pleasant anecdote in a note on this 
 hne. " The old way," says he, " of making thunder and 
 mustard was the same : but since, it is better performed by 
 troughs of wood with stops in them. Whether Mr. Dennis 
 was the inventor of that improvement, I know not ; but it 
 is certain that being once at a tragedy of a new author, he 
 fell into a great passion at hearing some, and cried out, 
 ' 'sdeath ! that is my thunder'." 
 
46 THE BAR. 
 
 It Spreads its surface o'er a vast extent^ 
 But in diffusion when its force is spent^ 
 Back to its former channel soon it strays^ 
 While the dry land its shallowness betrays. 
 His eloquence was like the sea that roll'd 
 Driven by the winds of heaven uncontrolled, 
 Spreading a mighty deluge wide and round. 
 Whose waters fill'd alike the vast profound. 
 And every creek and corner of the ground ; 
 And leaving not a foot of firm dry land 
 Whereon his terror-stricken foe might stand. 
 
 An orator ! a maker of fine speeches — > 
 A sort of bastard eloquence, that reaches 
 But ne'er extends beyond that doubtful line. 
 Which youths and love-sick maids call ^' vastly fine," 
 And doting dowagers pronounce divine. 
 A gaudy picture glaringly displayed. 
 Like Joseph's coat of many colours made. 
 Jumbled without regard to light or shade. 
 
 In search of metaj)hor behold him fiy 
 To rummage all above or 'neath the sky. 
 Dart like a sun-beam in his wild career, 
 '' Beyond this visible diurnal sphere/' 
 Through the dark void flash with a meteor's sweep. 
 Or headlong plunge into the ^^ vasty deep," 
 
THE BAR. 47 
 
 Then in an earthly shape appear again^, 
 To dazzle and confuse the whirling brain ; 
 And after all this precious wild-goose chace — 
 To vulgar sense both out of time and place. 
 Still a mere mortal — panting for applause. 
 And losing sight of nothing — but his cause. 
 
 O strange mistake ! true eloquence disdains 
 Such pomp of words — such artificial strains ! 
 Vainly he tries her province to invade 
 ^^ With apt alliteration s artful aid/' 
 And to assist his arduous anxious aim. 
 Flies forth to fetch fine flowers and fiery flame, 
 Shakes from his brain — that rare kaleidescope — 
 An endless change of metaphor and trope. 
 And many a quaint antithesis to boot. 
 Which here and there like northern streamers shoot. 
 Or fire-balloons which make the people stare, 
 So long as they retain their light and air. 
 But when exhausted, with a pufF expire. 
 And sink forgotten in their native mire. 
 
 Yet, could he, deaf to popular applause, 
 (Oft lavished or withheld without a cause) 
 To one great object keep his aim confined 
 And trusting to himself, divest his mind 
 
48 
 
 THE BAR. 
 
 Of false ambition and of vain pretence;, 
 Phillips might justly claim pre-eminence. 
 With all his faults^, — and manifold they are — 
 Of sterling genius he has such a share^ 
 As his profession might and would have graced, 
 Sober'd by judgment, and refined by taste. 
 And England might have seen him at her bar, 
 'Midst the bright galaxy, a shining star.^^ 
 
 But oft capricious, from his proper track, 
 A noisy tavern-dinner calls him back. 
 Where primed with praise, and port's inspiring power. 
 He spouts to boozy patriots by the hour,t 
 Till they can scarcely tell, as reason reels. 
 Whether they stand upon their heads or heels. 
 
 * Since Mr. Phillips's residence in this country, the 
 public has had few opportunities of judging of his eloquence, 
 which is of a peculiar kind ; and, judging from the speeches 
 he has published, it seems better suited to his native island 
 than to this grave reflecting country. He possesses a consi- 
 derable portion of genius, with an ill regulated fancy, a 
 vitiated taste, and a very slender proportion of sound judg- 
 ment; faults which however, may be amended by expe- 
 rience. Mr. P. however is not without his admirers, even 
 on this side the water, but they are chiefly such as mistake 
 long and alliteration periods for eloquence, antithesis for 
 wit, and bombast for sublimity. Assuredly neither English 
 Judges and Juries are of this number, at the present day. 
 
 -|- See his famous speech at the "grand dinner," given 
 by the Whigs of Liverpool. 
 
THE BAR. 49 
 
 Or if perchance some '^ meeting" he attends,* 
 His ready eloquence their cause befriends. 
 Forth comes next day, in print, a flaming speech, 
 Far, far beyond what vulgar minds can reach. 
 Where metaphors, and tropes, and figures rare. 
 Like Esterhazy's diamonds, make you stare. 
 And almost hide, amidst the dazzling light,. 
 The subject they embellish from the sight.t 
 
 Thus headstrong fancy leads his steps astray. 
 And loses panting genius by the way. 
 Or if perchance together they should go. 
 With gaud and glitter he bedaubs them so. 
 That you (when you behold the things again) 
 Look for their features and their forms in vain. 
 
 So some young beauty, on her village green. 
 Blooming in native innocence, I've seen 
 
 * Mr. P. it was reported iii the daily prints, chanced 
 to attend a " Bible Society" meeting at or near Gloucester, 
 when j^he volunteered a speech that was received with 
 " unbounded applause." What is better, it was the means, 
 as was said, of introducing him to a lady to whom he was 
 soon afterwards married. This may be truly said to have 
 been one of the very best speeches, pubhshed or unpub- 
 lished, he ever made ! 
 
 f Prince Esterhazy's dress at the coronation was 
 described by a writer present (supposed to be Sir AValter 
 Scott) as being so covered with diamonds and pearls, as to 
 hide every vestige of the dress itself. 
 
50 THE BAR. 
 
 Moving unconscious of her cliarms^ and graced^ 
 
 By nature^ witli simplicity and taste^ 
 
 From affectation free — a lovely sight — 
 
 That fills the heart with joy and pure delight ! 
 
 But if unhappily seduced she's thrown 
 
 A lost deserted wretch — upon the town — • 
 
 Behold her gaily flaunting it about,, 
 
 In meretricious finery tricked out ! 
 
 Brave Bristol diamonds sparkle o'er her brow^ 
 
 Fine feathers wave and flowrets seem to blow^ 
 
 Her rounded arms Parisian bracelets deck^ 
 
 And rare mock pearls adorn her beauteous neck ; 
 
 On her wan cheek (their native roses fled) 
 
 Cosmetics vile^ and flaring rouge are spread;, 
 
 Bedizn'd thus^, with gaudy colours bright^, 
 
 While her false glitter strikes the wondering sights 
 
 For her lost beauty — ^hid in such disguise^ 
 
 You look in vain^ and scarce believe your eyes ! 
 
 Phillips ! for once believe the friendly Muse, 
 Nor her sage counsel with disdain refuse. 
 Genius, like beauty, with itself content, 
 ^' Needs not the foreign aid of ornament," 
 Its native charms are its peculiar boast. 
 And 'tis when ^^ unadorn'd — adorn'd the most." 
 
THE BAK. 51 
 
 Halt then— keep on thy feet — nor strive to fly 
 Like foolish Icarus^ to scale the sky^ 
 Lest in the vain attempt thy wings be found 
 To fail^ and bring thee tumbling to the ground. 
 Halt — and discreetly, while it yet is time. 
 Reduce to common sense thy strains sublime, 
 Restrain thy fancy, and reform thy style. 
 Or hie thee homeward to thy '*^ Emerald Isle,"* 
 On which, in evil hour, O why, good lack ! 
 Ungrateful ! didst thou ever turn thy back ! 
 
 * Mr. P. is the author of a poem so called, published 
 in 1812, and dedicated to his Royal Highness the Prince 
 Regent, whom he was then pleased to style "Ireland's 
 hope, and England*s ornament !" — Compare this with his 
 speech at Liverpool, before mentioned, and others since ; 
 in which he vindicates the change in his pohtical opinions. 
 A very able critic in his review of this work and his famous 
 " speeches" " edited by hunself " — thus speaks of the former. 
 " It is a perfect stream of praise, a shovv-er of roses on 
 every person who is named in it, from Alpha to Omega." — 
 As to his consistency in politics, the reviewer says "he 
 dedicated his poem in e.vpectation^ and he piibhshed (liis 
 Liverpool speeches) in disappointment.'''' INIr. PhilUps avers 
 that he changed his sentiments from a " conscientious con- 
 viction, &c." His reviewer thinks that there was no prin- 
 
 ciple in it, but that he changes — certa ratione modoque 
 
 Which of the two is right, let the reader judge for himself; 
 and in order to do that fau'ly, and impartially, let him first 
 " walk over" the " Emerald Isle," and then "go through" 
 the " Speeches," — if he can — and conchide with the mas- 
 terly analysis of both by the writer abovementioned, which 
 will amply repay him for his \)?ims. Quarterly lieview. vol. 16. 
 
 e2 
 
52 THE BAR. 
 
 And of thine Alma Mater* e'er lose sight — 
 
 The critics there might relish with delight 
 
 Those brilliant flourishes that run to waste. 
 
 Before a public void of genuine taste. 
 
 John Bull at empty splendour nerer winks^ 
 
 But looks^ and bluntly speaks whatever he thinks. 
 
 Hates nonsense, in whatever garb it goes. 
 
 And at the smell of flattery stops his nose. 
 
 Besides, 'tis not the way to fame or riches. 
 
 To make, what modern judges hate, long speeches. 
 
 Economize thy words — abridge — condense. 
 
 And talk on common themes with common sense. 
 
 Upon the subject keep observant watch. 
 
 And use, what courts and juries like — dispatch. 
 
 In phrase that most congenial appears 
 
 To British understandings — British ears ! 
 
 This do — or go and tune thy lyre again. 
 And chant to Erin a repentant strain. 
 Laud her '^ blue-stocking" wits and poets rare,t 
 In terms to make e'en Lady Morgan stare. 
 Though of such stufi^ — 'tis said — 'tis hard to make 
 A dose too large or strong for her to take. 
 
 Mr. P. was of Trinity College, Dublin, 
 t See " The Emerald Isle:' ^Passim. 
 
THE BAR. 53 
 
 Now comes the chief — though highest on the list. 
 He by the Muse must briefly be dismissed — 
 Acute he is — ^but not above his peers. 
 And wise enough — but not beyond his years ; 
 Presiding at his birth, some lucky star 
 Above his humble station raised him far. 
 Rescued him from a pedant's hapless fate. 
 And quickly raised him to his high estate.* 
 Scarce known — so strange — so sudden was his rise. 
 That folks beheld the change with huge surprise. 
 Gazed at his Lordship with admiring stare. 
 And ^^ wonder'd how the d — 1 he came there." 
 '^ Ohe ! jam satis est .'" — now leave we these. 
 And take a peep into the Common Pleas. 
 Where the mind finds refreshment and relief 
 Amidst the squabbling clan to find a chieft 
 Who rules with wisdom and true dignity. 
 And in all points is what a judge should be. 
 
 * The present Chief Justice Abbott, was, it is said, 
 formerly tutor in a private gentleman's family, who from 
 his acuteness, recommended him to apply to the study 
 of the law, which advice he fortunately took. His elevation 
 to his present high office, created no small surprize, at the 
 time, particularl> amongst the lawyers, 
 t Chief Justice Dallas. 
 
54 THE BAK. 
 
 Warm from last night's carouse^ a Prince's guest^ 
 Limpings but light of hearty comes Sergeant Best,^ 
 With greeting smiles he moves — a courtly grace 
 Still beaming o'er his ^^ shining morning face^" 
 Wit and champaigne still sparkling in his eyes. 
 And gay good humour, that e'en gout defies. 
 The brilliant court above has closed— and now 
 Both feet and head must to the court below. 
 To festive scenes of elegance and ease. 
 Where all are pleased because all strive to please. 
 Succeed the law's dry facts, and dull formalities. 
 
 Business become the order of the day, 
 Lo ! Brother Best prepares his part to play. 
 Eager to mingle in the glorious fray. 
 Then while like lightning in a fervid sky. 
 His spirit kindles in his flashing eye. 
 With earnest look, and bold impassion'd strain. 
 He strives the struggling judgment to enchain ; 
 Tries and retries with unremitting zeal. 
 And for his client feels or seems to feel. 
 Forgets all thoughts of interest and renown. 
 And pleads the cause as though it were his own. 
 
 Now one of the Judges of the Court of King's Bench. 
 
THE BAR. 55 
 
 Thus^ ere the jurymen can raise their eyes. 
 He takes the slumbering judgment by surprize. 
 And driving on the siege, in force and form. 
 Carries his point by stratagem or storm. 
 
 Gristly and gruff, and coarse as Cambridge brawn. 
 With lungs stentorian bawls gigantic Vaughan ; 
 In aspect iearless, and in language bold, 
 ^^ Awed by no shame — by no respect controurd," 
 Straight forward to the fact his efforts tend. 
 Spurning all decent bounds to gain his end. 
 No surgeon he, with either power or skill. 
 To shew the world his anatomic skill. 
 Or subtle, nice experiments to try- 
 He views his subject with a butcher's eye. 
 Nor waits its limbs and carcase to dissect. 
 But tears the heart and entrails out direct. 
 
 Him lynx-eyed Copley* sternly views afar. 
 Frowns bold defiance, and prepares for war. 
 Measures his rival with undaunted eye. 
 Like one resolved to conquer or to die. 
 
 * Now Solicitor-General. 
 
56 THE BAR. 
 
 Now burns the fight — the host on either side 
 In breathless silence the event abide.* 
 Crafty and cool^ sly Copley shifts his ground 
 And leads his strong assailant round and round, - 
 Who losing both his temper and his breath. 
 Drives like a Turk for victory or death ! 
 Fierce as a fiend^ he falls with vengeful ire 
 Foul on the foe, and should his piece miss fire. 
 While in disorder for a time he's thrown 
 With the butt end at once he knocks him down.t 
 
 Not long he lies, but with elastic bound, 
 A tennis-ball^ he springs up from the ground. 
 Then on his legs again^ he scorns to yield. 
 But inch by inch disputes the bloody field. 
 Till the vex*d umpire^ 'midst the dreadful fray. 
 Puts in his vetO;, and decides the day.J 
 
 * Jam vero rutili certatim, et Troes et omnes 
 Convertere occulos Itali — 
 
 Armaque deposuere humeris. — Virg. 
 
 -j- Lord Pembroke once said, when speaking of Dr. 
 Johnson's annoying mode of arguing any question, ''there's 
 no escaping the doctor — ^if his piece misses fire, he knocks 
 you down with the butt end." — BosweWs Life of Dr. J. 
 
 X This court has long been notorious for the squabbles — 
 often personal — of the leading counsel — Sergeant Vaughan 
 has encountered, in their turns, several of his learned 
 brethren — particularly Best, Copley, and of late Pell, who 
 begins to display talents of no ordinary description, and 
 
THE BAR. 57 
 
 Lo ! learned Lens — as contrasts always please^ 
 Like a calm summer lake reposed at ease. 
 Till warm collision, like a mighty wind. 
 Uplifts the depth and volume of his mind. 
 Then, as if roused from slumber, o'er his ground 
 He roars not with a torrent^s thundering sound. 
 Nor like a shallow stream '^ runs dimpling on,'* 
 Till in faint murmurs all its strength be gone. 
 But gently swelling from its copious source. 
 Like a vast river, rolls with steady force. 
 Bank full — yet ne'er overflowing its right course ; 
 Or if, perchance, the truant stream should stray. 
 It warms and fertilizes on its way. 
 And strews with many a leaf and classic flower 
 All that was wild and barren waste before. 
 
 But greater, nobler qualities than these. 
 Are his, who never fawns, or stops to please. 
 Who with stern independence for his shield. 
 To hollow-soul'd ambition scorns to yield. 
 For power or place, or paltry selfish ends. 
 Ne'er sells his conscience, nor deserts his friends. 
 
 who feels and asserts his consequence accordingly. The 
 Chief has had frequent occasion to interfere to his oreat 
 annoyance. It is remarkable that Sergeant Lens can always 
 contrive to keep out of such broils — much to his credit. 
 
58 THE BAR. 
 
 But stands (nor sighs for proffered honours past) 
 Unshaken and consistent to the last.* 
 
 Kare virtues these ! above all price or praise. 
 And seldom found in these degenerate days. 
 Yet these for one the muse may proudly claim 
 And with their splendid rays emblazon Lens's name. 
 
 Now to the restt — Muse bid a short farewell. 
 And kiss thy hand to bustling bright-eyed Pell. 
 Whose active spirit, and undaunted soul 
 In spite of even Vaughan's rude controul. 
 Will draw from dull obscurity his name. 
 And lead him on to fortune and to fame. J 
 
 * The learning and mild yet dignified deportment of 
 this profound lawyer, and true English gentleman (for some 
 are ill natured enough to assert that the two characters are 
 not always combined) seem to have conciliated all parties. 
 It is said that he has more than once had the offer of a high 
 official appointment, which, on the ground of its incon- 
 sistency with his political sentiments and connections, he 
 declined; a circumstance that did equal honour to both 
 parties. 
 
 -)- Of whom Sergeants Hullock and Cross are noticed 
 in the Second Part, as belonging to the Northern Circuit. 
 
 X See the note on Sergeant Copley, now Solicitor 
 General, who, since his promotion, appears to have quitted 
 the Court of Common Pleas for that of the King's Bench. 
 Sergeant Pell has, in consequence, had a great accession of 
 business, and has distinguished himself, both by his spirited 
 conflicts with Sergeant Vaughan, and on other more credit- 
 
THE BAR. 59 
 
 With eye averted, here the Muse stops short. 
 What Muse e'er entered the Exchequer Court. 
 There struggling genius vainly strives to rise 
 Through the dense fogs exhaling from excise. 
 Prime orators but strew their flowrets rare 
 To ^^ waste their sweetness on the desert air." 
 There, as they travel round the dull routine. 
 No meteor flash illumes the dreary scene, 
 Boeotian mists absorb each ray of light. 
 And all is " dark as chaos and old night." 
 Foul frauds above the reach of fear or shame. 
 No sympathy with eloquence can claim, 
 Save that, which by its potent force elate. 
 Flows in melodious strains at Billingsgate. 
 Well pleased, Laverna^ claps her gladsome wings. 
 While issuing from a thousand muddy springs. 
 The tide of discord rolls, and 'midst its sludge. 
 Flounder alike, both advocate and judge. 
 Gross bare-faced perjury stares them in the face. 
 Truth quits her throne, and fraud usurps her place. 
 While startled justice often takes a flight. 
 And e'en the king can hardly get his right. 
 
 able occasions, particularly in the celebrated ^' Portsmouth 
 Cause," in which he took a very promment part, and 
 enacted it with infinite credit to himself', and great satisfac- 
 tion to his noble client and the pubhc at lai*pe. 
 
 * The goddess of rogues and thieves. 
 
60 THE BAK. 
 
 No wonder that the Barons — as we see. 
 In such a Pandemonium can't agree* 
 But often make, amidst the strange uproar, 
 ^^ Confusion worse confounded" than before. 
 
 From scenes like these, without regret or pain. 
 Turn we our vagrant steps to Chancery-Lane, 
 Where equity, with bandage o'er her eyes. 
 Poises the trembling scales, that sink and rise 
 By turns — ^and with a fair impartial hand. 
 Weighs out to each his honest, just demand. 
 
 In such a sober set few traits can strike. 
 Where all seem wise, or rather grave alike. 
 Sometimes, indeed, amidst the solemn scene, 
 A merry interlude doth intervene. 
 Facetious Hart^ let loose amongst the folks — 
 Circum prcecordia ludit with his jokes. 
 Or drowsy Bell, in attitude ujicouth. 
 With closing eyelids, and wide yawning mouth. 
 Stretches his paunch, where windy vapours roll 
 With hollow rumbling — till beyond controul. 
 
 * This frequent difference amongst the learned Barons 
 gave rise to a well known pithy criticism on their respective 
 qualifications, which appeared in the daily papers. 
 
THE BAR. 61 
 
 Forcing their way, like fires in Etna pent^ 
 ^"^ Magno cum strejntu" they get a vent. 
 And form, as they escape at either door, 
 A running bass to his melodious snore. 
 
 Titters the grinning Bar — from one to one 
 The epidemic spreads — and, 'midst the fun. 
 My Lord himself unbends — and drops a pun.* 
 Then bursts aloud the chorus of applause. 
 No matter who the butt, or what the cause. 
 For when the Master smiles, and drops his staff. 
 And condescends to joke — the boi/s must laugh. 
 
 Yet Bell laborious diligence may boast. 
 And that he's ever ready at his post. 
 While fagging Hart preserves his proper bound. 
 And, steady as a mill-horse, goes his round. 
 
 Skilful, acute, in legal lore profound. 
 Close reasoning GiFFORDt stands on lofty ground. 
 From misty error's dull ophthalmia free. 
 He sees things clearly, and makes others see. 
 Each scattered part of a dissever'd case 
 
 * See Appendix F. 
 t Now Baron Gifford, and Chief Justice of the Com- 
 men Pleas. 
 
62 THE BAR. 
 
 He fits and dovetails in its proper place^, 
 
 And thus with dext'rous skilly and deep intent^ 
 
 Constructs a fine yet solid argument. 
 
 Strong and compact in every part and point. 
 
 Which neither force can break nor art disjoint. 
 
 With endless repetitions, loose details. 
 
 He ne'er your patience or your ears assails. 
 
 But grasps each point within his mind's strong clutch, 
 
 And seldom says too little or too much ! 
 
 Not so long-winded Wetherell* — who stale. 
 Diffuse and ^^ tedious as a twice told tale," 
 
 * This learned gentleman is remarkable for what are 
 expressively termed "long-winded" speeches, for which 
 sort of superabundant eloquence, one would suppose, minis- 
 ters must have a strong predilection. The present Attorney 
 General (Sir J. S Copley) was promoted, even from the 
 ranks of Opposition, to the office of Sohcitor General, soon 
 after his long and laboured defence of the famous Dr. 
 Watson of high- treason memory. On the same occasion 
 
 INIr now Sir Charles Wetherell— was leading Counsel, 
 
 having stepped out of his accustomed walk in the Court of 
 
 Chancery, and volunteered his services for that purpose 
 
 His address to the jury then, was of eight hours duration, 
 which, however, is not to be compared to his speech in the 
 " Roxburgh case," which lasted not for eighteen minutes, 
 as some might suppose, or eighteen hours, as others might 
 imagine, but for eighteen days !" (See Mr. Secretary Peel's 
 speech in the debate on Mr. WiUiams's motion for an 
 enquiry into the causes of the delays, &c. in Chancery.) — 
 His exertions in the celebrated " Portsmouth case," were 
 also of vast longitude^ soon after which he was appointed 
 Solicitor General. 
 
THE BAR. 63 
 
 Pours forth his loose harangues in strains uncouth. 
 Like ribbons dropping from a juggler's mouth. 
 Whene'er his lengthy arguments he spins. 
 At most with two ideas he begins. 
 So like that one may fairly call them twins. 
 With these he weaves a flimsy web, so weak. 
 That through its texture e'en a fly might break ; 
 Yet does he gabble on through thick and thin. 
 Like some old woman o'er her tea and gin — 
 Or like himself, when to his chum he talks. 
 Ogling the pretty girls in King's Bench walks. 
 
 O ! would he learn to stop in decent time 
 The jingling sounds of his eternal chime. 
 And put, with kind considerate intent. 
 His tongue upon the peace establishment. 
 
 Judicious Shadwell wanders round about 
 With careful steps — and prudently looks out. 
 As though he dreaded unawares to meet 
 ^^ Man traps and spring guns" underneath his feet. 
 
 Nor let the Muse o'erlook ingenuous Heald,* 
 Well versed in all the tactics of the field. 
 
 * Mr. Heald has been stated to be the author of " The 
 Brunoniad," — a mock-heroic poem, on the controversy 
 between the celebrated Doctors CuUen and Brown. This 
 
64 THE BAR. 
 
 Who^ with a subtle art that ne'er distracts. 
 Finely concentrates all his leading facts. 
 And reasons in a clear connected strain. 
 Nor- ever drops a link out of the chain. 
 Nor pass unnoticed unpretending Home,— 
 What though no classic flowers his brows adorn. 
 Yet his are sober sense without display. 
 And judgment sound that never leads astray— < 
 Foundations strong, that ever firmly stand. 
 Which they who build upon— build not on sand. 
 
 But where is he — ^now wanting in his place. 
 Whose speaking eye, and dark expressive face. 
 And sombre melancholy air combined. 
 Announced an index of no common mind ? 
 A mind which like some vast museum shone 
 With boundless treasures — not together thrown 
 Jn one chaotic mass — ^but where restrained 
 Variety without confusion reign'd. 
 
 Possessing, with perceptions clear and strong, 
 A sense intuitive of right and wrong. 
 
 is a mistake. That poem (which by the bje, is one of the 
 best of its kind in our language) was written by a gentleman 
 of the same name, at that time a pupil of Dr. Brown's, but 
 who afterwards quitted the profession of physic for that of 
 divinity. He is also the author of a translation of some ol 
 the "select odes of Horace" — a work of great merit. 
 
TIIK BAR. <).'; 
 
 Quick and sagacious to detect the place 
 
 Where lay the strength or weakness of a case. 
 
 And ever prompt to keep, with judgment true. 
 
 The means proportioned to the end in view ; 
 
 Viewing the field of war with jealous eye. 
 
 Certain each latent error to descry. 
 
 Like an old soldier, ere the figlit began. 
 
 He laid his schemes to thwart his rival's plan. 
 
 And when he found — involved in mist and doubt, — 
 
 That rival vainly struggling to get out. 
 
 By various ways he sent his legions round 
 
 All hostile calculations to confound. 
 
 Attacked him point by point, and unawares 
 
 Drove or inveigled him into his snares. 
 
 Till panic-struck — the foe was forced to yield, 
 
 And leave him fairly master of the field. 
 
 But oh ! to law's dull trammels not confined. 
 Shone the great powers of that enlightened mind. 
 Nor kept restricted to one gloomy part, 
 Were the warm feelings of that manly heart ; 
 Wisdom was there, adorn'd with classic grace. 
 And there each heaven-born virtue found a place ; 
 Humanity within his generous breast 
 And kind compassion found a place of rest, 
 
 p 
 
66 THE BAR. 
 
 And sacred love of freedom's holy cause. 
 Freedom that yields to nothing but the laws.* 
 
 Who in this portrait can such features see 
 And not at once discover Romilly ? 
 Alas ! that such a man, with such a mind. 
 To '' blank confusion" should have been consigned, 
 Bow*d to the dust beneath a load of pain. 
 Beyond the power of reason to sustain.t 
 
 Lamented Romilly ! though low thou'rt laid 
 In the dark tomb amongst the mighty dead. 
 Yet, not forgotten, do thine ashes sleep. 
 There friendship lingers long, and loves to weep; 
 There gratitude and pity oft attend. 
 And sad misfortune mourns her truest friend. 
 Pair freedom to thy memory drops a tear. 
 And sainted honour weeps '^^ a pilgrim there," 
 Their sacred sympathy embalms thy name. 
 And consecrates thy worth to deathless fame. 
 
 * " Hold to the laws !" was his motto at the time he 
 was elected for Westminster. 
 
 -]- The melancholy catastrophe alluded to is too well 
 remembered to need further notice here. 
 
THE BAK. ^7 
 
 Muse, pass not by, in thy correct report. 
 That grand improvement — the Vice Chancellor's 
 
 court, 
 A pretty post, devised like many more, 
 Of urgent business to reduce the store. 
 But which (Oh ! doubly painful to endure) 
 Increases the disease 'twas meant to cure. 
 Ah ! sure a pair like this were never seen 
 So much unlike in gesture and in mien. 
 Ill matched, this steps too fast, and that too slow,* 
 And both together do but rarely go. 
 One needs a curb, and t'other wants a spur. 
 And thus the vast machine can hardly stir. 
 While, when they often pull in different ways. 
 Despairing clients stand in dire amaze. 
 And swear, as they behold increasing fees, 
 ^^ The remedy is worse than the disease !" 
 
 Above the rest, in wisdom as in place. 
 Sits the great chief, t with grave and thoughtful face. 
 
 * The punning wits of the Chancery Bar, where 
 punning is (as has been shewn before) in high estimation, 
 say of the Lord Chancellor and his Vice — that the former 
 is accustomed " oyer saiis terminer^'''' and the latter " termi- 
 ner sans oyer,^^ 
 
 f Lord Chancellor Eldon. 
 
 f2 
 
68 THE BAR. 
 
 Raised by his native powers^ from stage to stage^ 
 A bright example to the rising age. 
 Studious and patient in life's early days^, 
 And true to his vocation — no mean praise- 
 In the deep solitude of crovi^ds unknown^ 
 On fools^ vi^hile fortune's harlot smiles were thrown, 
 'Twas his hard lot to meet her adverse frown. 
 Yet still, though storms of peril and dismay 
 Oft blew him from the current of his way. 
 Through boisterous seas that threaten'd to o'erwhelm. 
 While prudence kept a hand upon the helm. 
 With watchful eye he stretch'd his vent'rous sail. 
 Took the tide's flow, and caught a favouring gale, 
 A gale that like the constant trade-wind blew. 
 And brought the haven of his hope in view. 
 Where firmly moor'd, he rests secure at last. 
 And smiles on all the dangers that are past. 
 
 With just ideas, judgment strong and sound. 
 And learning luminous and yet profound. 
 His mind, as on it takes its mighty course. 
 Displays its secret treasures to their source. 
 Then calmly rests— its winding current run — . 
 Like some vast lake illumined by the sun. 
 Where through the world of waves, distinct and clear 
 The hidden wonders of its depths appear. 
 
THE BAR. 09 
 
 In green old age^, his wisdom still appears 
 To grow and ripen in his ripening years^ 
 Doom'd to descend;, with many a mighty name^, 
 To future times with honourable fame. 
 But cramp'd alas ! in this imperfect state. 
 By what some christen chance, and others fate: 
 Vain is the wisdom and the wit of man. 
 And little can he do — do all he can. 
 For to whatever point his efforts tend. 
 Like Sisyphus, his labours have no end. 
 Up hill he rolls the ponderous stone in vain. 
 Back it rebounds — and all's to do again. 
 
 Such hidden flaws and failings of the mind 
 Through all the various ranks of human kind. 
 Spread in a greater or a less degree. 
 Nor goes the royal conscience-keeper* free. 
 
 Upright sincere, laborious from his youth. 
 Zealous he seeks and fain would find the truth, 
 Hunts it through all the mazes of the mind. 
 Nor leaves or brake or bush untried behind, 
 
 * The Lord Chancellor used to be dignified ^Wth the 
 title of '' Keeper of the King's conscience" — and a verj 
 pretty post it must have been in former times^^mdeed at 
 any time. 
 
70 THE BAR. 
 
 With load enormous pressing on his back^ 
 Patiently he pursues his mill-horse track ; 
 Vain is the use of curb^ or lash^ or goad. 
 To check or urge him faster on his road. 
 Onwards he moves with slow but certain pace. 
 And always keeps his temper and — his place. 
 
 One weighty drawback, like a galling chain. 
 Fetters his limbs and makes his progress vain. 
 Weak indecision, like the shifting wind. 
 Perplexes and distracts his dubious mind. 
 And as his judgment owns her palsying sway. 
 Of strange misgivings he becomes the prey. 
 Wavering — '^ infirm of purpose"' — to both sides 
 He listens patiently, but ne'er decides ! 
 Points, on which all opinions are agreed. 
 And cases clear, which they who run may read. 
 He hears — ^re-hears- — from time to time postpones — ► 
 While on the rack exhausted patience groans. 
 And when at length his day of ^' judgment's'' come. 
 Makes up his mind — ^to take the papers home. 
 And though the Jiat trembles on his tongue. 
 Doubts to do right — for fear of doing wrong.* 
 
 * The character of this profound lawyer, and most 
 upright and conscious man, the author leaves to be 
 dehneated by more competent hands. The present resem- 
 
THE BAR. 71 
 
 How different stern Thurlow thought and spoke. 
 Firm and unbending as the " gnarled oak/' 
 Ne'er from his purpose shook by any wind. 
 Who, if a doubt e'er chanced to cross his mind. 
 Would (if he could not straight that doubt undo) 
 With brave decision — cut the knot in two. 
 
 Thus suit on suit piles up, from year to year. 
 Like the vast masses of some huge glacier. 
 With boundless zeal, in vain from day to day. 
 He toils to clear the growing heap away. 
 Toil as he may, reduce it as he will, ^ 
 
 Alas ! the mountain is a mountain still. 
 
 t 
 
 blance is a mere outline, which, nevertheless, may convey 
 some idea, however imperfect, of the great origiaal. With 
 regard to his doubts and indecision, they have often been 
 the subject both of grave discussion, and facetious anecdote. 
 His Lordship is fully sensible of his failings, and his candour 
 and humility in acknowledging them cannot be sufficiently 
 admired. In the case of Oddie, v. the Bishop of Norwich, 
 which came before him in 1821, he dropped the following 
 observation. " I am now approaching that period when my 
 natural existence will be brought to a close, and I confess, 
 that during my judicial life, my mind has often been ham- 
 pered with doubts, in cases in which men of stronger minds 
 would, perhaps, have entertained no doubt at all." '^ Those 
 doubts," said his Lordship on another occasion, " were 
 constitutional, nor could he by any means shake them off," 
 but that they arose from a desu'e '' to judge rightly after 
 the fullest consideration," nobody will doubt. 
 
72 THE BAR. 
 
 So the loose soil on Mam Tor's* shivering sides^ 
 With slow unceasing course for ever slides^ 
 And wastes, or seems to waste, its bulk for years. 
 Yet grows again unseen, and never less appears. 
 
 Guardians of Britain's glory ! ye who keep 
 Eternal vigils while her children sleep. 
 Who send our seamen and our ships to roll 
 In Hyperborean seas beyond the pole, 
 O while such distant honours ye foredoom. 
 Leave not so much, good Lords, undone at home. 
 But quitting unknown seas, and straits, and 
 
 streams. 
 Which no where flow but in your waking dreams. 
 Take soundings in that vast, that boundless sea. 
 The mare mortuum — of Chancery! 
 
 * Mam Tor — or the " Shivering mountain," as it is 
 commonly called, is about two miles from Castleton, in 
 Derbyshire. It was formerly a military station, being l30(K 
 feet above the level of the valley. 
 
 The title of " shivering mountain" is derived from its 
 shale continually decomposing under the action of the 
 atmosphere, and falling in large quantities down the face 
 of the precipice, into the valley below, the rushing noise 
 of which is sometimes so loud as to be heard at Castleton. 
 This shivering of the grit and shale has been going on for 
 ages, and hence it is supposed to have suffered no diminu- 
 tion in bulk, which however must be a vulvar error. 
 
THE BAK. 73 
 
 Where lost in fogs impenetrable, lie 
 
 Regions yet unexplored by human eye ; 
 
 And though he ne'er saw light — nor ever may. 
 
 Through such a chaos who could make his way ? 
 
 Yet crown with meet reward his daring deed 
 
 Who in the bold attempt should best succeed. 
 
 Then should some future hero persevere. 
 
 Like dauntless Baffin* in his bold career, 
 
 O may he find, in some remote degree, 
 
 A north-west passage through this mighty sea. 
 
 Reach limits which no mortal yet has found. 
 
 And snatch from Rosst the twenty thousand pound. 
 
 But lo ! in crowds of every cut and size. 
 Like snow-topp'd mountains, wigs o'er wigs arise, 
 ^^ Thick as autumnal leaves," — shook by the gale, 
 ^' That strew the brooks in Vallambrosa's" vale. 
 
 * Baffin — who first discovered the large gvdph since 
 known by the name of " Baffin's Bay." 
 
 •]• Captain Boss sailed on a voyage in search of " the 
 North-West Passage" in May, 1818, and returned in No- 
 vember — re infecta. Captain Parry went out on a similar 
 expedition in May, 1819, and returned in November, 1820, 
 with greater success, having penetrated 550 miles further 
 than nis predecessor, asserted the Polar sea to be navigable. 
 Captain Parry gained the reward of £5000 offered by 
 Government, and is now out on another similar voyage, 
 for which he has shewn himself pecuharly qualified. God 
 speed him well. 
 
74 THE BAR. 
 
 Whose catalogue of owners would appear. 
 Dull to call over to the jaded ear. 
 As Homer's list of heroes and their ships,,* 
 Which the impatient reader always skips. 
 
 Halt then^ my Muse ! no more the theme prolong. 
 But cease — and leave the rest to future song. 
 The rest whose wisdom lies in wig and gown. 
 To future fame ne'er destined to be known. 
 Whose leaden speeches, without aim or end, 
 (As heavy bodies to their centre tend,) 
 To dull oblivion silently descend. 
 And there forgotten sink in sullen mood. 
 Lost like a drop in ocean's mighty flood. 
 Yet still who day by day, with endless pains. 
 And lacking nothing upon earth — ^but brains. 
 
 * The great bard himself seems alarmed at the diffi- 
 culty of calling over this tremendous muster roll. 
 
 TiXri^rjt ^' ovK av eyo) /urjBijaojuaiy «' S ovojurojio), 
 {JK.vS' d fJLoi oEKa jLiBvyojaaif SsKa^e go/bcar blbv 
 ^(ovfj 3' apprjiCTOCy y^ayKEOV ilfuLOi fjrop ivifj,) 
 E/ /Li jbir) oXv/j^TTiddec M&crai, &c. &C. 
 
 HoM. II. 
 Which Pope thus paraphrases with less than his usual 
 diffusion ; though with enough of amphfication : 
 
 " To count them all demands a thousand tongues, 
 A throat of brass, and adamantine lungs ! 
 Assist ye Muses, &c." 
 
THE BAR. /O 
 
 Harangue whole hours without one happy hit^ 
 One flash of genius, or one spark of wit, 
 Whose drift appears — if any drift exist — 
 Like lamps that glimmer through '^ a city mist,'* 
 Whose doubtful rays the stranger's steps betray. 
 And only serve to make him lose his way. 
 
 Hail WiNSOR,* hail ! thou wonder-working wight. 
 Destined to make Cimmerian darkness bright. 
 And by the potent force of genius raise 
 The fitful gleam into a brilliant blaze. 
 Thee, tradesmen reeling from their clubs by guess. 
 With unfilch'd pockets, and clean garments, bless ; 
 Thee science loudly lauds, and art commends 
 That light that every honest man befriends. 
 Drury's frail nymphs regard it with a frown. 
 And lurking Pri8;s\ unite to cry it down; 
 Fat cooks and greasy chandlers join the cry^ 
 And roundly wish thee at the devil I Why ? 
 For wheresoever thy lustrous rays are thrown. 
 Farewell to trade ! their '^ occupation's gone." 
 
 Great luminary ! on thy radiant way, 
 Roll on, as rolls the glorious orb of day. 
 
 * Celebrated for his introduction of gas-light into use- 
 + Priy — a cant word for a thief. — Grose's Cant Dirt. 
 
7^ THE BAR. 
 
 Thy prototype — as yet thy bright career 
 But dawns upon our darkling hemisphere;, 
 Destined ere long to chace the shades of nighty 
 And pour one universal flood of light 
 O'er Britain's realms. Then may we hope to see 
 An intellectual gas prepared by thee^ 
 And in thy course — so happily begun — 
 With streets^, and shops^, and taverns thou hast done, 
 TheU;, for sublimer purposes designed. 
 Thy gas shall lighten up the human mind. 
 Archbishops, Bishops, Priests and Deacons — all 
 For Winsor's spiritual gas shall have a call. 
 And what has yet been dreary, dull, and dark. 
 Shall brighten with the true setherial spark. 
 While wondering hearers, as they rub their eyes. 
 Can scarce believe their senses for surprize. 
 And like the blind, restored to sudden sight. 
 With transport bless — ^yet almost doubt the light. 
 
 To thee each son of Pcean shall repair. 
 For vials of thy medicated air. 
 And ere careering on his daily rounds. 
 From street to street his rattling chariot sounds, 
 SnuiF'd up his nasal tube — the subtle gas. 
 Through the dark chambers of the skull shall pass, 
 ^^ Swift as the collied lightning" of the night 
 And from_ one focus^ pour its piercing light, 
 
TIIK BAR. // 
 
 From each opaque resisting medium free^ 
 Full on the brain — or where the brain should be. 
 Then shall the vapours dull, that thickly shroud 
 Poor Pia Mater in a dense dark cloud;, 
 Melt like the mists of morn before the sun^, 
 When from the east his fiery coursers run. 
 Then shall the jumbled atoms of the mind 
 Form into shape^, and systemize in kind^ 
 Phthisis and hydropS;, and *^'Marasmus dire/' 
 Each to its proper section shall retire^ 
 Mix'd recipes in rank and file shall range^, 
 Like raw recruits^ all wonder at the change. 
 The pill — the drop — the draught — the bolus tart^ 
 All take '^ close order/' and yet keep apart^ 
 And luckless A, by sad fatality. 
 No longer swallow what was meant for B ! 
 
 But O ! whoe'er thy precious boon may share. 
 Let Law's behoof be thy peculiar care. 
 Full in the centre of her hazy sphere. 
 Fix firm and fast a prime gasometer. 
 And thence thy sunbright radii diffuse 
 By tubes invisible, and winding flues. 
 Through its dark paths and mazy avenues. 
 Pierce the pale special pleader's gloomy cell. 
 And light the bench where ermined judges dwell. 
 
78 THE BAR. 
 
 Sitting in judgment on strife-loving crowds. 
 Like Homer's gods — amidst eternal clouds. 
 
 Then shall each Sergeant, ^^ learned in the law/' 
 No more o'er lengthy pleadings hum and haw. 
 And at each ebbing of the wordy flood 
 Be left — proh pudor — -sticking in the mud. 
 To stand without a sentence pro or con, 
 A laughing stock for idle lookers on. 
 
 Then, while each judge no longer stufi^s his head, 
 ^^ With all such reading as was never read," 
 Year after year fags to digest, in vain. 
 The learned lumber that o'erloads his brain. 
 And as congesting round his throbbing head 
 Thick and more thick the darkening vapours spread, 
 Mix'd with such gleams as but increase the gloom. 
 And serve to shew the horrors of his doom, 
 Lo I thy famed gas, like Rembrandt's lights divine. 
 O'er the dark shade shall pour a radiant line. 
 Each latent beauty on the canvas show 
 In soften'd chiar'oscuro's melting glow. 
 And guide his eye with clearness to explore 
 All that was ^' darkness visible" before. 
 
 And embryo statesmen then, who nightly bawl 
 For Britain's welfare^, in St. Stephen's Hall;, 
 
THE BAR. 79 
 
 While clouds of nonsense roll — a mighty mass — 
 
 May feel the electric power of Winsor's gas, 
 
 Which^ though its brightest blaze can never clear, 
 
 To mortal eye, that hazy atmosphere. 
 
 Through strata of sheer ignorance, thick and dull. 
 
 May haply penetrate some patriot's skull ; 
 
 Or feeble fitful glimmerings may shed 
 
 Through the vast hollow of some placeman's head. 
 
 Then, for a wonder ! may we live to see 
 
 Complying Tories and staunch Whigs agree. 
 
 And both unite, at length, with heart and mind. 
 
 To labour for the welfare of mankind. 
 
 ^Vhigs act a pure disinterested part. 
 
 And with the general weal alone at heart. 
 
 On place or pension ne'er bestow a thought. 
 
 Nor care a jot who's in or who is out ; 
 
 And Ministers — that rarest of all cases — 
 
 For their dear country's good — give up their places. 
 
 Then too shall bards, who ^vrite for deathless 
 fame. 
 Catch inspiration from the powerful flame. 
 As fumes of nitrogen inhaled diffuse 
 Their essence through the frames minutest flues. 
 Raise the dull spirit from its clay-bound bed. 
 Up to that spacious vacuum — the liead. 
 
80 THE BAR. 
 
 Where like a joyous drunkard o'er his bowl. 
 It reels and revels round without controul. 
 While the 'rapt patient^, with impatient mirth. 
 And bursting* fits of laughter, spurns the earth. 
 And borne by sylphs and zephyrs, in a trice 
 Lights on that bless'd domain — Fool's Paradise. 
 So shall thy gas ascend the poet's brain. 
 Each pulse a feeder, and a flue each vein ; 
 ^^ With a fine frenzy" fire his rolling eye 
 Glancing from sky to earth, from earth to sky. 
 While from his raptured fancy's ^' pictured urn" 
 He scatters '^ thoughts that breathe and words that 
 
 burn." 
 And pours a strain in mortals' ravish' d ears. 
 Sweet as ^olian harps, or music of the spheres. 
 
 Nay then, no more with dullness fill'd and spite. 
 Will selfish blundering playhouse critics write. 
 And vend their daily pufi^s, or vent their spleen. 
 On plays and players which they've never seen. 
 Driving in paragraphs a pretty trade. 
 Fair or unfair — according as they're paid. 
 
 * The gaseous oxide of nitrogen, when mixed with 
 atmospheric air, produces the most extraordmary effect on 
 the human frame, one of which is, a violent and uncon- 
 troulable propensity to laughter. 
 
THE BAR. 81 
 
 Then Managers shall;, faithful to their trust. 
 Discharge their debts^, and manage to be just. 
 Learn to distinguish, clear as the noon-day, 
 A melo-drama from a genuine play. 
 Nor, when they take an author's work to read. 
 Keep him for months — pining perhaps in need- 
 To kick his heels in vain from day to day. 
 Then tell him they've mislaid or lost his play. 
 Leave him to curse his fate, and to deplore 
 Their base injustice— till the season's o'er.* 
 
 Last in thy system's wide extent and scope, 
 O Winsor, let us dare to hope 
 Some rays of thy reflected light may fall 
 On the dun disk of that Saturnian ball. 
 Where pent in caves as dark as Dante's hell. 
 Critics, perdue, like lurking daemons dwell. 
 And from the deep alembic of the mind 
 Distil their deadly poison for mankind. 
 To be exhaled by fits, like noxious dews. 
 In monthly magazine's, and dire reviews. 
 Blighting each leaf and flowret of the Muse ! 
 Illumined by thy pure and lambent light, 
 What wrong before appear'd, may then seem right, 
 
 * Vide Appendix G. 
 
82 THE BAR. 
 
 And from their lurking holes^ both south and north;, 
 In their own proper shapes they may stand forth ; 
 Their dark bush-fighting warfare may suspend. 
 Nor the cold-blooded skill to vengeance lend. 
 But while thy rays their frozen souls expand. 
 Cease, with unfeeling heart and deadly hand. 
 That no compunction feels, no pity knows. 
 To crush the bud of genius ere it blows. 
 Nor deem it wise, amidst their dextrous feats, * 
 To break upon the wheel another hapless Keats I* 
 
 Nay, e'en in mercy to the rhyming folk. 
 Great Jefferey may lay down his tomahawk, 
 And happy gathering, wisdom from the past. 
 Let "justice fairly weigh the scales" at last. 
 From war and unrelenting carnage cease, 
 And calmly smoke the calumet of peace. 
 
 * The severity with which some of the critics treated 
 this young poet (who, with all his faults, discovered marks 
 of undoubted genius, which merited kinder notice) is said to 
 have hastened his untimely end. 
 
 END OF PART FIRST. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 Now-Changing on old woman for a witch ! — Page 15, 
 
 The character of this great man has not been generally 
 well understood. He has always been denominated " the 
 pious and learned Hale," " the just and upright judge," &c. 
 &c. " Roger North," a cotemporary lawyer, who knew him 
 well, has given us a more correct view of him both as a 
 lawyer and a man. A few extracts from his acccount may 
 suffice : 
 
 "He was an upright judge, if taken within himself; 
 and when he appeared, as he often did, and really was 
 partial, his inclination or prejudice, insensibly to himself, 
 drew his judgment aside. His bias lay strangely for or 
 against characters and denominations, and sometimes the 
 very habits of persons. If one party was a courtier, and 
 weU dressed, and the other a sor t of Puritan, with a black 
 cap and plain clothes, he insensibly thought the justice of 
 the cause with the latter. If the dissenting or anti-court 
 party was at the back of a cause, he was very seldom 
 impartial. 
 
 "It is certaui his vanity was excessive when he was 
 from off the seat of justice, and at home his conversation 
 was with none but flatterers. 
 
 g2 
 
84 APPENDIX TO PART I. 
 
 " He was allowed to be the most profound lawyer of his 
 time, but he knew it : but that did not save him, but he would 
 also be a profound philosopher, naturalist, poet, divine, &c. 
 
 " He was the most ilatterable creature ever known, for 
 there was a method of resignation to him, treating him with 
 little meals, and private, with his pipe at ease, which cer- 
 tainly captivated him. In short, to give every one his due, 
 there was in him the most of learnmg and wisdom, joined 
 with ignorance and folly, that ever was known to coincide 
 in the character of any one man in the world." — North's 
 Life of Lord Guilford^ voL 1. 
 
 How far the above character is compatible with that 
 " rigorous and impartial justice" that has been ascribed to 
 him, or with that humility which is the inseparable concomi- 
 tant of genuine piety, let the reader judge. '- \ r'- 
 
 His condemning the poor creatures to death at Bury St. 
 Edmund's, for witchcraft, did no honour to his understanding 
 or his humanity. 
 
 B. 
 
 Saunders the hig^ the bulky ^ and the strong, — Page 15. 
 
 The character of this extraordinary person is described 
 at length by North. A few of the most prominent features 
 may serve to give the reader some idea of the whole. 
 
 " His character and his beginning" says he, " were equally 
 strange. He was at first no better than a poor beggar boy, 
 without known parentage or 
 
 " He was ambitious to learn to write, and made himself 
 so expert a writer, that he took in business, and earned some 
 pence," (i. e. from the attornies in Inn, who encou- 
 raged him.) 
 
APPENDIX TO PART I. 85 
 
 " Bj books that were lent him, he became a most exqui- 
 site entering clerk, and by the same course of improvement 
 an able counsel, first in special pleading, then at large. 
 
 " As to hiy person, he was very corpulent and beastly ; 
 a mere lump of morbid flesh. He used to say, none could 
 say he wanted issue of his body, for he had nine in his back. 
 He was a foetid mass, that offended his neighbours at the 
 bar in the sharpest degree. This hateful decay of his carcase 
 came upon him by continual sottishness ; for to say nothing 
 of brandy, he was seldom without a pot of beer at his nose. 
 " Wit and repartee, in an affected rusticity, were natural 
 to him. He was ever ready, never at a loss. 
 
 " No ill usage from the bench was too hard for his hold 
 of business, being such as scarce any could do but himself. . 
 " With all this, he had a goodness of nature and disposi- 
 tion in so great a degree, that he may be deservedly styled 
 a philanthrope. He was a very Silenus to the boys (students) 
 to make them merry whenever they had a mind to it. If 
 any near him at the bar grumbled at his stench, he con- 
 verted the complaint into content and laughing with the 
 abundance of his wit. As to his ordinary dealing, he was 
 honest as the driven snow, and for good nature and conde- 
 scension there was not his fellow. 
 
 " I have seen him for hours and half hours together before 
 the court sat, stand at the bar with an audience of students, 
 putting of cases, and debating so as suited their capacities 
 and encouraged their industry. 
 
 " Whilst he sat in the Covu'ts of King's Bench he gave 
 the rule to the satisfaction of the lawyers." — Life of Lord 
 Guilford, 
 
86 APPENDIX TO PART I. 
 
 He left a volume of Reports, which are still held in 
 estimation, and of which a new edition, with notes, by the 
 late Sergeant Williams, was published a few years ago. 
 
 C. 
 Sat brutal Jefferies — savage as a bear, — ^Page 18. 
 
 Of this judge North says, " he had extraordinary abilities, 
 and but little acquired beyond what practice in affairs had 
 supplied. He talked fluently and with spirit, and his weak- 
 ness was that he could not reprehend without scolding, and 
 that in such Billingsgate language, as should not come out 
 of the the mouth of any man. He called it giving a lick 
 with the rough side of his tongue. It was ordinary to hear 
 him say, " go, you are a filthy, lousy, knitty rascal," with 
 much more of the like eloquence. 
 
 He seemed to lay nothing of business to heart, nor to 
 care what he did or left undone. Many times on days of 
 causes, at his own house the company have waited five hours 
 in a morning, and afterwards, he hath come out inflamed 
 and staring like one distracted. And that visage he put on, 
 when he animadverted on such as he took offence at which 
 made him a terror to offenders, whom also he terrified with 
 his face and voice, as if the thunder of the day of judg- 
 ment broke over their heads. 
 
 He then instances an attorney, who, on the Chancellor's 
 name being mentioned, had said, " The Lord Chancellor ! 
 why I made him," meaning his being the means of bringing 
 him early into business. When an affidavit to this purport 
 was read, " Well," said his lordship, " then I will lay my 
 
APPENDIX TO PART I. 87 
 
 maker by the heels !" and with this conceit he sent one of 
 his oldest and best friends to gaol. So much for his general 
 conduct and manners as a judge. For an account of his 
 judicial butchery of the prisoners after the rebellion of 
 Monmouth, see Hume^s History of England, This special 
 Assize (which James II. facetiously called " Jefferies' Cam- 
 paign,") procured him the title of " bloody JefFeries." He 
 died, soon after the abdication of his royal master, of the 
 wounds he received from the mob on that occasion. 
 
 A writer in a popular end excellent periodical work,* says 
 of this brutal and inhuman judge, " that there was some- 
 thing of human warmth within him that redeemed him from 
 utter hatred." On the contrary, he lived feared and de- 
 tested, and died universally execrated, monstrum, nulla 
 virtute redemptum. 
 
 D. 
 
 Came Mansfield^ wiser ^ greater than them all, — Page 19. 
 
 This great Judge was early distinguished as " a prompt 
 perspicuous, and eloquent pleader," and rose rapidly to the 
 summit of his profession. His personal graces and accom- 
 plishments attracted universal attention at the outset of his 
 brilliant career, so much so, that Pope, then at the height 
 of his reputation, and not a little fastidious in his choice of 
 friends, dedicated one of his most finished imitations of 
 Horace to him. In this epistle, however, that great poet 
 could say nothing better of his admired friend than what is 
 contained in the celebrated couplet, often quoted as a 
 striking example of the " art of sinking," which he has so 
 successfully ridiculed in other poets of that day. 
 
 * Retrospective Review, vol. 2. 
 
APPENDIX TO PART I. 
 
 Graced as thou art, with all the power of words. 
 So known, so honour'd, at— the House of Lords. 
 
 The chief scene, however, of Lord M.'s glory was in the 
 Court of King's Bench, where he presided for upwards of 
 thirty years with the highest reputation, having, from the 
 first of his sitting there, introduced a regularity and des- 
 patch of business, before altogether unknown; and such 
 was the correctness of his decisions, that, " except in the 
 case of Perrin Blake," as Burrow says in the preface to his 
 reports, "and the case of Literary Property," there had not 
 been from 1756 to 1776 a final difference of the court in any 
 case or upon any point whatever ; and it is equally remarka- 
 ble, that excepting these two cases, no judgment given during 
 the same period had been reversed either in the Exchequer 
 Chamber, or in Parliament, and even these two reverses 
 were with great difference of opinion among the judges. 
 
 The letter addressed to this eminent judge by the bar, on 
 his resigning his office as Lord Chief Justice, and his 
 Lordship's answer, are too well known to need repeating. 
 
 E. 
 
 Bids thee, with conscious pride, hail and farewell. — Page 38. 
 
 The subject of these lines is admitted on all hands to have 
 been one of the most eloquent and successful advocates that 
 ever appeared at the bar, where for a great length of time 
 he stood unrivalled, and shone among his cotemporaries. 
 
 Some of his published speeches even, are eminently beau- 
 tiful ; but the form and feature — the thrilKng voice — the 
 fire and animation — the expression — the look — the soul 
 flashing through the eyes — all these are wanting, the effect 
 
APPENDIX TO PART I. 89 
 
 of which can only be imagined and felt by those who have 
 heard them. 
 
 This great and genuine orator is the only one on record 
 who ever dared to try the experiment of enforcing his argu-. 
 ment by the introduction of an oath, is perhaps the only 
 one who could have done it with success. This extraordinary 
 burst occurred in his celebrated defence of Lord George 
 Gordon, and has been thus frequently related — "After 
 reciting a variety of circumstances in his Lordship's con- 
 duct, and quoting the language he had used — the orator 
 suddenly, abruptly, and vehemently exclaims, " I say^ by 
 ***, that man is a ruffian who shall, after this, presume to 
 build upon such honest artless conduct as an evidence of 
 guHt !" 
 
 " The sensation," says the recorder of this highly dramatic 
 scene, " produced by this exclamation, and by the magic of 
 the voice, the eye, the face, the figure, and all we call the 
 manner with which they were uttered, was quite electrical, 
 and baffled all power of description." 
 
 With Mr. Erskine the true eloquence of the English bar 
 may be said to have disappeared. Since that period the 
 business of the courts has increased to such a degree, that 
 a less rhetorical and elaborate style became absolutely 
 necessary : and accordingly the advocates of the present 
 day, in general condense their addresses to juries, and con- 
 trive to do as much business as possible, in as little time, a 
 method encouraged by the bench, and approved in general 
 by the suitors, with a few exceptions, for there will always 
 be some of opinion — 
 
 " That he who sings the longest, sings the best." 
 
90 APPENDIX TO PART I. 
 
 F. 
 
 My Lord himself unbends^ and drops a pun. — Page 61. 
 
 Those who imagine the Court of Chancery to be a scene 
 of unvarying gravity and dullness, are quite mistaken. On 
 the contrary, there is frequently more innocent merriment 
 to be found there than in all the other courts put together 
 " Quips and quirks, and wreathed (perhaps we should say) 
 wrinkled smiles" abound, and one of my Lord's witty re- 
 marks, and above all his admirable puns, are enough to set 
 the whole court in a titter of good humour for a whole day. 
 As FalstafF was not only " witty himself, but the cause of 
 wit in others" — so his Lordship is not only a capital punster 
 himself, but the cause of punning in others. The mania 
 spreads, and such is the rivalry excited amongst the Chan- 
 cery men, that it may often be fairly called a modern 
 ''pun-ic war!" The Opera-House was an almost inex- 
 haustible subject. A vast variety of other cases might be 
 mentioned, affording similar opportunities for the exercise 
 of their pun-ical wit. The following will give some idea of 
 one of these exhibitions. 
 
 Patent Hair Brushes — Metcalfe v. Thompson. 
 
 Plaintiff has a patent for hair brushes of a particular sort. 
 Defendant was selling, without license, brushes of the same 
 kind. 
 
 No Counsel appearing for the plaintiff, Lord Chancellor 
 said, "this injunction must he brushed off^ unless some 
 Counsel be here soon to support it. 
 
 When Counsel came in, Sir Samuel Romilly, who opposed 
 the patentee, produced an old brush, which had been used 
 
APPENDIX TO PART I. 01 
 
 hy a wigmaker, &c. for above thirty ^ears, which was 
 exactly the same in principle as the patent brush. 
 
 Lord Chancellor — " Is it a foa^''s brush ?" (The owner of 
 the brush is called Fox.) 
 
 Sir Samuel — " It is my Lord." 
 
 Lord Chancellor — " Shew me the brushes." 
 
 Here four head-brushes, one long broom, one knee-buckle 
 brush, and three clothes brushes were handed up to his 
 Lordship. Nothing was heard but peals of laughter. The 
 only two grave persons in the court were Messrs. Metcalfe 
 and Thompson. 
 
 Sir Samuel — " Now, my Lord, ingenious as the construc- 
 tion of these patent brushes may be, your Lordship will 
 find that it is exactly the same as this brush of my friend 
 Fox, which has been used for thirty years," 
 
 Lord Chancellor — " Hand me up this old Fox's wig^ 
 really this antique looks uncommonly well." 
 
 Mr. Treslove — " Your Lordship will see, by looking at it, 
 that it is the same to a hair as the patentees' brushes ; only 
 they look a little fresher." 
 
 Lord Chancellor — " That is, Mr. Tress-love^ because they 
 are younger. I have examined this old brush, and I see it 
 is a curiosity of the kind ; but when you and I get as old^ 
 and our tresses have been as well worn, we shall perhaps 
 look as antique." 
 
 Mr. T. said, he had advised his client " not to shew his 
 brush." 
 
 Ijord Chancellor — Then I must say, that you being 
 a pursuer^ were at fault there; for if an injunction is 
 granted by this court, the article on which such an in- 
 junction is granted, must be lodged with the master. I 
 
92 APPENDIX TO PART 1. 
 
 remember, iii a case of waste, that a person actually fixed 
 an oak tree to an affidavit he had made, to shew the court of 
 what nature the trees in question were." (A loud burst of 
 laughter.) 
 
 So much for the humour of one of the most profound 
 lawyers, of the present or any other age. One other speci- 
 men is too good to be overlooked. 
 
 Sherwood and Others v. Pierce Egan. — Injunction to 
 restrain the defendant from publishing an additional volume 
 of a work called "Boxiana." ' r? 
 
 When the motion was made, his Lordship observed, he 
 had often heard of Boxers being " in Chancery." A term 
 used by boxers when one of the combatants get the head of 
 his opponent fast under his left arm. 
 
 Mr. Shadwell stated the case. 
 
 Lord Chancellor — " Have you got any affidavit, or are 
 you going upon what is called " the fancy ?" 
 
 Mr. S — " I have an affidavit, my Lord." 
 
 After some discussion, his Lordship asked Mr. Egan " if 
 he could not alter his title-page." 
 
 Mr. Egan said he could, and though the learned Counsel 
 had been very striking in his address, ye he thought he 
 would not, after all, be able to make a hit. 
 
 Lord Chancellor — " Well but really I think, Mr. Egan, 
 that by a little alteration in your title-page you might hit 
 Mr. Shadwell fairly out of court." 
 
 Mr. Egan said he would take his Lordship's advice—and 
 Mr. Shadwell hoped he would dedicate the volume to his 
 Lordship. 
 
 And again, in Murray v. Bundell, 1821 The subject a 
 
 Cookery Book. After Mr. Murray's letter to the defendant 
 was read. 
 
APPENDIX TO PART I. 93 
 
 Lord Chancellor — " That's good cookery." 
 
 Mr. Shadwell, after a long argument, concluded thus — 
 
 " So that the effect of the two injunctions was, that Mrs. 
 
 Rundell would be restrained from publishing such parts of 
 
 the work as belonged to Mr. Murray, and Mr. Murray 
 
 would be restrained from publishing at all." 
 
 Lord Chancellor — " Then we shall have no dinner at all." 
 Mr. Shadwell — "Just so, my Lord — too many cooks 
 
 have spoiled the broth." 
 
 G. 
 
 Their base injustice till the season's o'er. — Page 8L 
 
 Amongst the many miseries of authorship, not the least 
 are those endured by the unfortunate playwright. This 
 description of writers seems at all times to have suffered 
 much from their necessary intercourse with theatrical mana- 
 gers. Smollett had, it seems, a specimen of this kind on 
 some such occasion. But he was not a man to sit down 
 quietly with it, and accordingly he resented the indignity. 
 by giving to the world, in his usual forcible manner, a strik- 
 ing account of the transaction, under the character of 
 " Melopyn," in his novel of Roderic Random. This, it is 
 said, produced an interview with the " little great" manager 
 (Garrick), with whom he had to do, and a reconciliation 
 ensued, with no great sincerity probably on either side. 
 
 In the grievous case of Mr. Bucke with the famous com- 
 mittee of the Drury-Lane theatre, he gives a lamentable 
 detail of his negociations with them on presenting a play of 
 his for acceptance. It is too long even for abridgment — 
 Suffice it to say, that after keeping the unfortunate author 
 
94 APPENDIX TO PART f. 
 
 in suspense for a whole season, he had the mortification of 
 being told " that his play had been mislaid, and could not 
 be found." 
 
 But the miseries of a playwright, even after his piece is ac- 
 cepted by the manager, by no means terminate. Goldsmith, 
 after the first representation of his comedy, " She Stoops to 
 Conquer," (which was successful,) said he had been sitting 
 for two hours on a barrel of gunpowder. 
 
 The celebrated Goldoni, who seems to have had some ex- 
 perience of this kind, gives the following lively description 
 of it. 
 
 Con. — " Oh poetamio ! vi sono schiavo. (A Guglielmo) 
 siete qui per fare alcune deUe vostre opere ? 
 
 Gug — Padrone mio riverito> 
 
 Livia. — ^Anche poeta ? (Verso Guglielmo.) 
 
 Aur. — Si, e poeta. Non lo sapete ? 
 
 — Oh ! questa e una bella professione ! 
 
 Liv. — Questo e unmestier dilettevole. 
 
 Gug — II comporre per i teatri, lo chiamano bella professi- 
 one, mestier dilettevole ? Si sapessero tutto non Pintende- 
 rebbono gia cosi. Di quanti exercizi ho fatto, questo e stato 
 il piu laborioso, il piu difficile, il piu tormentoso. Oh ! Te 
 pure ladura cosa, faticare, sudare, struggersi ad un tavoHno, 
 per far una teatrale composizione, e poi vederle gettur a 
 terra, sentrila criticare, lacerare, e ;.in premia del sudore e 
 della fatica aver de 'rimproveri, e de dispiaceri." &c. &c. 
 
 VAventuriere, Atto prime. 
 
THE BAR. 
 
 PART II. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Vacation — Breaking up of the Courts — Barristers quit- 
 ting the Inns of Court for the different Circuits — Unhappy 
 case of those left behind — The Muse taketh a flight to the 
 Northern Circuit, and arriveth on the banks of the Ouse — 
 Arrival of the Judges — Cavalcade of the High Sheriff, 
 City Sheriffs, Lord Mayor, and Corporation to meet them 
 —Appearance in the city — Night closeth the scene — Sunday 
 Morning — Citizens and strangers mingling in the streets — 
 The tolling of church bells — The Minster — A solemn apos- 
 trophe to that magnificent structure — Afternoon — The 
 arrival of Counsel — Attomies, &c. &c — Monday Morning 
 — Opening of the Courts — Retrospective view of several 
 eminent lawyers defunct — ^Wallace — Bolton — Davenport — 
 Law — Cockell — Sketches of others of the present day — 
 Topping — Scarlett — Brougham — Raine — Sergeant Hullock 
 — Heywood — Richardson — Littledale — Sergeant Cross — 
 Maude — Hardy — Wailes — Walker — Walton — Tindal — 
 Jones — Starkie — Park — Pollock — Holt — xVlderson — Black- 
 bume — Address to Junior Counsel — Conclusion. 
 
 H 
 
THE BAR. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Ct)c ^Nrottfjem Citcuit. 
 
 VACATION comes ! The courts break up at last. 
 And the great " sittings after term" are past ! 
 Grave gownsmen, now, of every degree. 
 From Trinity's* dull drudgery set free. 
 Forth to the circuits fly with mickle glee. 
 While as by various tracks, like rooks, they fly. 
 To all the diff^erent quarters of the sky. 
 The ^^ Inns," deserted by the sable train. 
 Like old forsaken rookeries remain. 
 
 Unhappy he who cannot ^^ raise the wind," 
 But in close chambers must be left behind. 
 Seldom abroad — ^to take the air afraid, — 
 Some doctor's or some tailor's bill unpaid 1 
 
 * Trinity Term, 
 h2 
 
100 THE BAR. 
 
 For now no change diversifies the scene 
 
 That spreads before him in his " cave of spleen f 
 
 Like some poor traveller, on a desert cast. 
 
 He looks with horror o'er the boundless waste. 
 
 Joyless he views the blazing sun on high 
 
 And prays for clouds to cool the sultry sky; 
 
 No blessing does he count the radiant heat. 
 
 That melts him when he scours the dusty street. 
 
 Or flaming on the windows of his cell. 
 
 Makes it a hot-house, or a little hell. 
 
 Where imps of darkness, lurking in disguise. 
 
 Of ^^ declarations" — special pleas — replies — 
 
 Rejoinders — sur-rejoinders and demurrers — 
 
 ^^ Puzzled with mazes, and perplex'd with errors," 
 
 In every nook annoy his troubled sight 
 
 Vex him by day, and harass him by night. 
 
 For e'en when as that welcome night draws nigh, 
 
 (Escaped from pestering dun and bailiff sly) 
 
 In balmy sleep's oblivious repose. 
 
 He hopes his troubles and his eyes to close. 
 
 Still haunted "^ith the soul-tormenting themes, 
 
 John Doe appears the hero of his dreams ! 
 
 Lo ! the grim goblin squats upon his breast. 
 
 Presses his lungs, and breaks his silent rest ! 
 
 In vain, half- wake — he heaves, and tries to scream, 
 
 Pinches himself — and thinks *^^ 'tis but a dream !" 
 
I HE n\n 101 
 
 He drinks his breath — stifles his struggling cries — 
 And laughs with hideous grin^ and goggling eyes^ 
 Till nature^ with an effort of despair. 
 Shakes off the phantom, which dissolves in air ! 
 
 From scenes like these, that shock both sense and 
 sight. 
 The Muse with gladsome pinions takes her flight. 
 Far to the North, she wings her rapid way. 
 Where Ouse meanders o'er his bed of clay. 
 And Ebor's lofty pinnacles arise. 
 In gorgeous splendour pointing to the skies ! 
 Where Law extends her wide capacious sphere. 
 And tries to deal out justice twice a year. 
 There to attend, and watch with anxious view. 
 The arduous course her learned sons pursue. 
 And true to her vocation's end and aim. 
 Record their honours and attest their fame. 
 
 Hark ! what loud clangors echo round and round ! 
 Mail-coach horns blow, and brazen trumpets sound. 
 And flying crowds in tumult throng the street, 
 In eager anxious haste ^^ My Lord" to meet. 
 And lo !. surrounded by the motley throng, 
 The grand procession slowly moves along ! 
 
102 THE BAR. 
 
 With lanky arms, wan cheeks — and hollow eyes, 
 
 And bodies fleshless as anatomies, 
 
 Lean scraggy necks on which each head is seen 
 
 Nodlingjust like a ^^ Chinese mandarine/' 
 
 With legs so feeble, tottering and slow. 
 
 They scarce can bear their bodies as they go. 
 
 Twelve halberd-men (the city guard !) appear. 
 
 Some in the van, and others in the rear. 
 
 Trembling beneath the weighty arms they bear ! 
 
 (Heaven ! how unlike the halberdmen of old. 
 
 Mighty as giants, and as lions bold. 
 
 Emblems of British valour ajid good cheer. 
 
 Who ate " bluff HARRY's"*beef and drank his beer. 
 
 Or squared their brawny chests in glittering ranks 
 
 When great Eliza graced proud Thames's banks.)t 
 
 They of the van, announce the grand approach, 
 (Meet avant-couriers of the sheriff's coach,) 
 While the rear-guard, like bees in compact swarm. 
 Protect the Judges — and the coach from harm ! 
 
 * Henry the Eighth. 
 
 + " The Yeomen of the Guard, the tallest aud most 
 handsome men whom England could produce, guarded with 
 their halberts the passage from palace gate to the river side." 
 Kenihuorth^ v. 3. 
 
 This passsaffe, though extracted fropi a romance, is 
 strictly historical 
 
THE BAR. 103 
 
 Follow the City-sherifFs in full bloom. 
 
 And portly Aldermen in grand costume, 
 
 While gentlemen — ^hight of the "Twenty-four/'* 
 
 And Common Council-men, like torrents pour. 
 
 In the gay scene of splendour and parade. 
 
 Behold amidst the dazzling cavalcade. 
 
 Brilliant above the rest, beyond compare. 
 
 That greatest of all mortals — '^ My Lord Mayor V 
 
 His glittering equipage delights the eye. 
 
 His splendid liveries with the sheriff's vie. 
 
 And by the well-fed coachman kept in check. 
 
 Each proudly conscious steed, with rainbow neck. 
 
 As ever and anon the trumpets sound. 
 
 Champs at the frothy bit and paws the ground. 
 
 Onward they move amidst the growing mass. 
 
 Till through the wedging crowd they scarce can pass. 
 
 While from the windows that overlook the way. 
 
 Fair groups of lovely dames their charms display; 
 
 With graceful forms, sweet smiles, and sunbright 
 
 eyes. 
 Sparkling with pleasure, rank o'er rank they rise. 
 
 * Gentlemen of the " Twenty-four" — are those who 
 have served the office of Sheriff. Of Common Council-men, 
 there are seventy -two, being eighteen for each of the four 
 wards. 
 
104 THE BAR. 
 
 Piercing the hearts of beaus^ who, from below, 
 Gaze at their beauties and forget the show ! 
 Then, both at Judges, Sheriff, and Lord Mayor, 
 John Bull indulges in a glorious stare. 
 Dogs bark, and children shout, and rend the ambient 
 air ! 
 
 At length the show is o'er, the din subsides. 
 Slowly the mob retires like ebbing tides. 
 And the vast hubbub dies upon the breeze, 
 Like the low murmuring sounds of distant seas. 
 Night comes with solemn step, and over all 
 Throws her dark mantle like a sable pall. 
 And now, (first taking care to get well fed,) 
 The ministers of justice go to bed. 
 And there, no more with weighty cares oppress'd. 
 Refresh their weary limbs with needful rest. 
 
 'Tis Sunday morn ! and crowding every street. 
 Brisk clean-faced citizens each other greet. 
 And strangers gazing round, with curious eye. 
 At every corner some fresh wonder spy. 
 Till with the vast variety oppress'd. 
 The mighty king* of all absorbs the rest. 
 
 * Cathedral 
 
THE BAR. 105 
 
 Now sounds discordant, with eternal toll. 
 From forty steeples, through the city roll, 
 And loud above the rest, with solemn swell,; 
 Peals the deep thunder of the Minster bell ! 
 
 Hail! glorious fabric of the *^ olden time^" 
 Whose wondrous structure crown'd with towers 
 
 sublime. 
 Stilly like some giant's frowning form appears. 
 Mighty and strong, beneath the weight of years ; 
 In majesty still mocks the tempest's rage. 
 And the destroying silent waste of age. 
 Stupendous monument of human skill. 
 How do thy sacred walls the bosom thrill. 
 And solemn thoughts of days gone by impart. 
 That strangely move the mind, and fill the swelling 
 heart. 
 
 O who, when musing 'midst thy lonely aisles, 
 (While thought, the soul from human care beguiles,) 
 Can view thy gorgeous windows, ^^ richly dight. 
 Shedding around a " dim religious light ;" 
 Thy tombs, where human grandeur sleeps in dust, 
 And, as in mockery, stands the silent bust. 
 Whose cold expressive silence, 'midst the scene, 
 Sadly announces that such things have been. 
 
106 THE BAR. 
 
 Or who^ in solemn mood^ can softly tread 
 Amongst those ^' frail memorials" of the dead. 
 While heavenly strains of music float around. 
 And human voices* join with thrilling sound 
 The swelling diapason, as they raise 
 The ^^ pealing anthem," and "the note of praise ;" 
 Nor feel each grovelling wish, each vain desire. 
 Within the breast without a sigh expire. 
 And every thought, as if on angels' wings. 
 Rise far above all sublunary things, 
 
 * A late traveller thus notices the effect produced by 
 the human voice in sacred music : — 
 
 " Of musical instruments, the organ only is admitted 
 into St. Peter's, or rather into the Papal chapel, and even 
 that, not always ; voices only are employed in general, and 
 as these voices are numerous, perfect in their kind, and in 
 thorough unison with each other, and as the singers them- 
 selves are concealed from view, the effect is enchanting, 
 and brings to mind the celestial voices 
 
 " In full harmonic numbers join'd," 
 That sometimes reached the ears of our first parents in 
 Paradise. — Eustace* s Classical Tour through Italy ^ v. 2. 
 
 Undoubtedly there is no instrument so beautiful as the 
 " human voice divine." A piece of Mozart or Beethoven 
 as performed at the Opera-House, may astonish and dehght, 
 but the effect of the sweet and tuneful voices of five thou- 
 sand charity children singing "Luther's Hymn," or, the 
 " Old Hundred," under the stupendous vault of St. Paul's, 
 is subhme and even affecting to tears; nor are his feelings to 
 be envied who could hear them without. 
 
 " The former kind of music delights the ear, the 
 latter, affects the heart ! — 
 
 " Tl cantar che nel a^ima se sente 
 
 II piu 'ne sente V alma, men' V orrechio." 
 
THE BAR. 107 
 
 With the soul's homage^ free from earthly thrall, 
 In trembling hope before the God of all. 
 
 Ah ! fond mistake — we look for such in vain^ 
 They are mere phantoms of the poet's brain. 
 Or are — if they exist — so thinly strew'd. 
 That they are lost amongst the vulgar crowds 
 The crowd, who only go to gape and stare^, 
 While oft their betters^ more refined^ repair 
 ^^ Not for the sermon, but the music there !" 
 
 But cease, my Muse, such subjects to rehearse 
 Suits not the tenor of thy sportive verse ! 
 Then stoop thy wing, thy lofty flight restrain. 
 And to more humble themes descend again.* 
 
 Now jurymen and witnesses begin. 
 In various groups and clusters, to drop in. 
 Bustling, hawk-eyed attornies now appear. 
 Their thoughtful clients budging in the rear. 
 This, in high glee, with joyous hope elate. 
 Regardless of the dark decrees of Fate, 
 
 * Non hoc jocose conveniunt lyrae : 
 
 desine pervicax 
 
 Referre sermonevS deonim, et 
 
 Magna modis tenuare parvis ! — Hor^ 
 
108 THE BAR. 
 
 Eats, drinks, and talks from morn to night, ^^at 
 
 speed/' 
 And " never doubts at all" but hell succeed. 
 While that, revolving in his anxious mind. 
 His cause, with thoughts of those he's left behind. 
 Now, speculating on his pending doom. 
 Now, ^^ wondering — ^how things go on at home," 
 What in his tedious absence may befall. 
 And wishing he had never come at all ! 
 Now barristers of all degrees approach 
 By units, pairs, and prials — by mail-coach ; 
 Juniors inside and outside take a drive. 
 And second bests in ^^ neat post-chaise" arrive ; 
 While the great ^'^ leaders," at a later hour. 
 Come rattling thro' the streets, in chariot and four.* 
 
 Business begins, and every nerve is strain d 
 To catch the favourite, if he's not retain'd. 
 Contending parties on both sides assail. 
 And briefs and fees pour in as thick as hail. 
 Devotion's at an end, and prayers give place 
 To solemn consultations on the case. 
 
 * The "Commission Day," at York Assizes, being 
 always on a Saturday, the Counsel, Attornies, &c. generally 
 arrive on the Sunday, and "^ commence operations" the 
 same evening. 
 
THE BAIL 1U1> 
 
 Of plaintiffs or defendants, who crowd in. 
 Nor deem such sabbath-breaking any sin ; 
 But hold, with lawyers, that in time of need. 
 Better the day, and better is the deed. 
 
 Immortal Alfred ! statesman, warrior, sage. 
 Thou shining light of a dark barbarous age^ 
 Shedding throughout the land its lustrous rays. 
 Still brightly burning in these later days. 
 Pillar of fire ! in that benighted time. 
 Of more than mortal mould, thou stood'st sublime. 
 Shewing thy children, as thy glories rose. 
 Their footsteps through a wilderness of woes, 
 A cloud of thunder to thy countries foes. 
 True patriot ! who in that country's cause. 
 First made her people free, then gave them laws ; 
 By wise gradations humanized the mind. 
 And proved thyself the friend of all mankind ! 
 Thee lawyers hail, the wisest of the wise. 
 Who first sent down thy Judges of Assize, 
 (And when they took a bribe, or shewed foul play. 
 Didst hang them,* in terroreruy by the way). 
 And call'd litigious suitors to appear. 
 Their rights and wrongs to settle once a year 
 
 * Le Mirroir de ,Iustioe, c 2. 
 
110 THE BAR. 
 
 To keep them settled, justice vainly tries. 
 Old feuds revive, and new disputes arise. 
 This threatens vengeance dire and that defies ! 
 But fevi^, enamour'd of ^^ the law's delay,** 
 Like the Chief Baron sweetly cry, " stay, stay !**^ 
 For both in law and wine, hid in disguise. 
 The mischief in th' uncertain quantum lies,t 
 And happy he, who of such perilous stuff. 
 Has first the courage to cry ^^ hold — enough !" 
 
 Yet some there are of higher mettled parts. 
 Who love a glorious law-suit in their hearts. 
 For fees, strain every nerve to ^^ raise the wind" 
 (Leaving their honest debts unpaid behind,) 
 Content to go with half a coat, no doubt. 
 Provided their opponent's left without. 
 
 * The late Chief Baron Thompson had a habit of check- 
 ing witnesses continually by crying out " stay, stay !*' from 
 wmch he acquired the appellation of " the old staymaker." 
 
 •j- " Uncertain gwaTiifwm,"— thereby hangs a tale. It is 
 said that the learned Chief was a very facetious companion 
 over the bottle, which he much enjoyed. At one of the 
 Judges' dinners, during the assizes, there was present 
 amongst the party a certain dignitary of the church. When 
 the cloth was drawn, " 1 always think," said the very Rev. 
 guest, " I always think, my Lord, that a certain quantity 
 of wine does a man no harm, after a good dinner !" " Oh 
 no ! sir — by no means" — replied the Chief Baron, " it is 
 the uncertain quantity that does all the mischief I" 
 
THE BAR. 1 1 1 
 
 O strange perversion of the human mind 
 That wildly leads astray one half mankind, 
 In wilful error groping like the blind. 
 Rabid* and fierce, the Indian tiger strays. 
 Yet on his kind, by instinct, never preys. 
 And where on Greenland's coasts the billows roll. 
 In friendly compact bears together prowl ; 
 But man, with rancorous hate or furious zeal. 
 Against his brother lifts the deadly steel; 
 Covets the goods which other men possess. 
 And though he's made " than angels little less,'* 
 Passes, by choice, his little span of life. 
 In poor hostility and needless strife. 
 
 Yet so it is, and feeble, fallen man. 
 His nature cannot change, do all he can. 
 Sooner shall change the leopard's skin so bright. 
 Or hands shall wash the Ethiopian white. 
 Sooner shall dry the sea, the stars shall fall. 
 Nay, sooner (far more wonderful than all) 
 Shall greedy placemen, to assist the state. 
 Resign their births^, nor murmur at their fate. 
 Shall furious patriots from barking stop. 
 Until, like Cerberus, they get a sop, 
 
 * Indicatiquis agit rabida cum tigride pacem 
 Perpetuam : ssevis inter se convenit ursis. 
 Ast homini lethale inciide ne fanda 
 Procudisse parum est. — Juvenal. Sat 15. 
 
112 THE BAR. 
 
 Doctors and lawyers cease to love their fees, 
 And whales to swim in Hyperborean seas^ 
 Or to the huge surprise of all beholders^ 
 Helluo* forsake — a prime ^^cod's-head and shoulders." 
 
 Now Monday comes, and hark ! the trumpets blow. 
 And through the streetS;, with solemn pace and slow. 
 The Judge majestically moves along 
 In awful state, amidst the gazing throng. 
 And at the trumpet's loud obstreperous din. 
 The courts fly open, and the crowd breaks in. 
 While harden'd felons, startled at the sound. 
 In ^' blank confusion" wildly stare around, 
 
 * I am at loss to know who is meant here. Pope talks 
 
 of a certain Helluo, of his time, who was, it seems, a lover 
 
 of fish also. 
 
 " Mercy," cries Helluo, *' mercy, on my soul ! 
 Is there no hope ? Alas ! then bring the jowl?" 
 
 My friend Mr. Alderman Marrowfat of whom I made 
 inquiry could give me no satisfactory information on the 
 subject ; " for," said he, " were I to point out all those whom 
 I know to be fond of the excellent dish in question, I might 
 name the whole Corporation of the city of London !" 
 
 But, upon second thoughts, as the scene of this part of 
 our author's work is laid in the ancient and venerable city of 
 York, perhaps some notable illustration of the passage, may 
 be obtained at that place. I shall therefore forthwith apply 
 to that learned and almost omniscient antiquarian, the cele- 
 brated Dr. Dryasdust, [immortalized in some of the labours 
 of the " Great known unknown"] who doubtless will be 
 able (if anybody can) to throw some light upon the subject; 
 the result whereof I hope to communicate in a future edi- 
 tion of '-'- The Bar." — Scrihlerus Tertius, 
 
THE BAR. 113 
 
 And on eternity's tremendous brink, 
 Rally their senses^, and attempt to think, 
 And conscience struck;, begin with dire amaze 
 To count the number of their evil days. 
 
 The Court now opens in due solemn form, 
 Hush'd like a murmuring calm before a storm, 
 Judge^, SheriiF^ Counsel, in due order range^ 
 And bows and sweet civilities exchange. 
 While to the lofty chieftains of the band. 
 My Lord, with gracious smile, extends a friendly 
 hand. 
 
 Now Fancy's conjuring rod begins to raise 
 The shades of mighty men of former days. 
 Which still appear to hover o'er the court. 
 Smile at the tumult, and enjoy the sport. 
 
 Lo ! where great Wallace once, like Jove in 
 state 
 And majesty, above his compeers sate. 
 And with an eastern tyrant's stamp or nod, 
 Ruled o'er his subjects with despotic rod. 
 There Bolton show'd his broad expanse of face. 
 And sturdy Davenport of mulish race. 
 
114 THE BAR. 
 
 And there, with store of wit, and mirthful glee. 
 And joke, that never fail'd, sat famed Jack Lee !* 
 
 In later times^ behold where Law stood forth, 
 Yclep'd the great Goliatht of the North ! 
 
 * From the hearsay account of the few veterans who 
 are old enough to recollect those celebrated advocates. 
 f So nick-named by the late Lord Erskine. 
 
 This eminent lawyer was a very powerful advocate, 
 and after his elevation to the high dignity of Lord Chief 
 Justice of King's Bench, was considered one of the ablest 
 Judges that ever presided there. It has been more than 
 once asserted in the courts, that perhaps no Judge (Lord 
 Mansfield excepted) ever made so many decisions that have 
 stood undisturbed. Of his Lordship, when at the bar, the 
 following anecdote has been related, which evinces great 
 promptitude at " the retort courteous." — In a cause tried 
 before Lord Kenyon, (who was on all occasions very hostile 
 to Mr. Law,) Mr. Erskine, (being on the opposite side,) in 
 the course of his speech, became somewhat more violent 
 than ordinary, and made use of certain personahties not to 
 be overlooked by a man of his opponent's temperament — 
 Accordingly he commenced his reply with the following 
 happy quotation : — 
 
 *' Dicta ferox, non me tua fervida terrent, 
 Di me terrent, et Jupiter Hostis V'—Virg. 
 
 In a curious trial, which took place at York Assizes, 
 when Lord E. (then Mr. Law) went on the Northern Cir- 
 cuit, respecting a horse race, " rode by gentlemen," wherein 
 the title of the winner to that appellation was called in 
 questit)n, his definition and illustrations of the term " gen- 
 tleman," and indeed the whole of his speech, is a fine speci- 
 men of that ironical humour and promptitude in turning 
 unexpected circumstances to " good account," for which he 
 was particularly distinguished on many subsequent occa- 
 sions. His addresss and admirable management of the 
 cause alluded to, gained his client a verdict, " to the. great 
 
THE BAR. 115 
 
 Who like a mighty torrent in its course 
 Swept all before him with overwhelming force. 
 Mature in wisdom^ since become a sage^ 
 That like a comet comes but in an age. 
 Though from the steady light he gave afar. 
 He shone, and long will shine, a fixed star. 
 
 Like a full harvest moon, there, next in place, 
 Shone portly Cockell's* honest round red face. 
 Clearness of intellect was his, combined 
 With vast unbounded native power of mind. 
 And with his great resources at command. 
 He grasp'd each object with a powerful hand. 
 Nor gave it up to either force or skill, 
 TiU he had moulded it to suit his will. 
 Of consultations grave no need had he. 
 Who drunk or sober every point could see. 
 And when the merits of the case were told. 
 Would tell you of some fox-chase ten years old, 
 Or other merry tale with vast delight. 
 Yet (while his client almost dead with fright. 
 
 satisfaction of a most crowded court, who hailed the deci- 
 sion with the loudest acclamations !" 
 
 See a very amusing httle work called " Heraldic 
 Anomalies," which contains a condensed but accurate 
 account of this celebrated speech. 
 
 * See Appendix A. 
 
 1 2 
 
116 THE BAR. 
 
 Quite in despair^ gave up his cause as lost,) 
 Next day was always ready at his post. 
 
 Fluent of speech, of trite ideas full. 
 Smoothly sententious, and correctly dull ; 
 Next followed Park, sed longo hit erv alio, 
 Whose brain would probably have long lain fallow. 
 But, lucky chance ! just then no rivals rose. 
 And he must needs succeed whom none oppose. 
 And, luckier still, when business and hard toil 
 Had well exhausted the poor shallow soil. 
 With all a Scotsman's true sagacity. 
 He kept in favour with ^^ the powers that be," 
 And making to the Bench a ^^ good retreat," 
 Mounted o'er wiser heads, and took his seat. 
 There big with mighty magisterial airs. 
 And full of small vexations, petty cares,* 
 
 * Of his Lordship's " solemn trifling," the following is 
 a most striking and inimitable specimen. 
 
 His Lordship's well known irascibleness of temper, (a 
 lamentable failing in a Judge,) is frequently manifested — ■■ 
 sedente curia — on trivial occasions, such as scolding the 
 bailiffs, calling the courts to order, &c. &c. But m the 
 following instance it was carried to a much more formidable 
 length. 
 
 At the Salisbury Assizes, a fellow of the name of 
 Hopwood was convicted of stealing a sack of oats, for which 
 offence this learned Judge sentenced him to eighteen months 
 imprisonment, and hard labour. Before he quitted the dock, 
 the prisoner had the audacity to ask how he was to recover 
 
THE BAR. 117 
 
 His solemn trifling and demeanor's such. 
 He thinks so little, and he talks so much. 
 That folks, in random speech are apt to say, 
 (For wicked wits will talk do what you may,) 
 It clearly proves, beyond a doubt's controul. 
 That a great man may have — a little soul; 
 And that in spite of all his specious skill. 
 His calling would not have sustained much ill ; 
 Nor would the Bar have sunk overwhelmed with woe. 
 Had he continued still — in statu quo.^ 
 In solid worth, and learning near akin. 
 Rough as two pines without, as sweet within. 
 
 the wages for his hard labour ? The answer to which arro- 
 gant question, was, an immediate commutation of the 
 sentence to seven years transportation. 
 
 In the whole annals of justice — or if the reader pleases 
 — mjustice, there is hardly to be found such another instance 
 of the stretch of prerogative for the purpose of gratifying 
 mere personal resentment. This sort of selfish sensibility is 
 the more to be lamented, since his Lordship is undoubtedly 
 on all occasions, where his own individual feehngs are not 
 concerned, both a just and a very humane Judge. 
 
 It is proper to mention that his I^ordship is the author 
 of a treatise on "Marine Insurance," which has been always 
 held in repute. It was pubUshed in the early part of his 
 Hfe, and was considered to hold forth good promises of his 
 future celebrity as a lawyer. Whether these promises have 
 been satisfactorily fulfilled or not, — this deponent sayeth 
 not. 
 
 * See Appendix B. 
 
118 THE BAR. 
 
 HoLROYD* with mind like glass without a flaw. 
 And WooD^t a ^^ neat compendium" of the law, 
 (A compound image he, like that of old. 
 Fashioned with feet of clay J — ^but head of gold !) 
 True as the season came, ^' pair'd off" from Town, 
 And here in friendly union posted down,§ 
 So as is sung or said in verse or prose, 
 Brentford's two kings march'd smelling at one rose. 
 
 * Now one of the Judges of the Court of King'sBench. 
 
 •|- One of the Barons oi the Exchequer. He has lately 
 retired. 
 
 J The learned Judge is much afflicted with the gout. 
 Apropos de bottes ! When Voltaire once paid a visit to his 
 friend, the celebrated Turgot, who was, as often happened, 
 laid up in the gout ; the moment he came in, he (Turgot) 
 points to his legs, crying out — " see, my friend ! the feet of 
 clay — the feet of clay !" " Ah," replied the wit — " and the 
 head of gold — the head of gold !" 
 
 § These two learned friends used generally to go down to 
 the Northern Circuit together, on one of which occasions, in 
 crossingFinchley Common, a man of gentlemanly appearance 
 rode up to the chaise, and politely accosting them, requested 
 to know " what o'clock it was." Mr. Wood immediately 
 drew forth a capital gold repeater, telling the stranger the 
 hour. He then, to their no very agreeable surprise, pre- 
 sented a pistol, and demanded instant delivery of the watch, 
 which was given up without venturing to demur* l^he gen- 
 tleman then wishing them a pleasant journey, touched his 
 beaver, and galloped off. The story being made known at 
 York, the learned gentleman was frequently reminded of 
 his misfortune, by the question " what o'clock is it Wood ?" 
 
THE BAR. 119 
 
 But why should we descant on other days. 
 And give to former worthies all our praise ? 
 Muse of historic truth ! once more descend, 
 And with thine aid the adventurous bard befriend. 
 Who bravely dares, in no ignoble strain. 
 Record the names that yet unsung remain. 
 And make them, in unfading colours, long 
 ^^ Live in description, and look fresh in song." 
 
 First on the muster-roll of war. 
 Stands mighty Topping — father of the Bar,* 
 Of him, that grateful Bar may justly boast. 
 Its shield, its Ajax, in himself a host. 
 Him, whom no power e'er awes, no force e'er bends. 
 To compromise his feelings or his friends. 
 From bitter truths who ne'er restrains his tongue. 
 To shelter meanness, or to wink at wrong ; 
 Who, firm of purpose, with indignant strain. 
 The ^^ insolence of office"t dares disdain. 
 And when it tramples on decorum's laws. 
 Stands in the gap, the champion of the cause. 
 
 * i. e. at York, when this was written. 
 -|- Alluding to a severe but (as it was then thought) a 
 justly merited rebuke, with which he replied to some obser- 
 vations of the late Sir Vicary Gibbs, then Attorney General, 
 made with too much of his accustomed asperity. 
 
120 THE BAK. 
 
 Fearless goes forth with mighty hand uprear'd. 
 
 And bold takes the lion by the beard. 
 
 A giant he^ amidst the pigmy race^ 
 
 Arm'd with great strength of lungs and ^^ power of 
 
 face/' 
 And tongue^ the dread of every rogue or dunce. 
 That keenly cuts both back and edge at once. 
 With weapons such as these, when folly shoots. 
 He lops the sprouts oiF, or grubs up the roots. 
 And many a half bred would-be knave or fool 
 Puts down at once, by powerful ridicule. 
 But should some glaring vice or barefaced wrong 
 Demand the wrathful vengeance of that tongue. 
 In coarse invective, terms not very choice. 
 Aloud he raises his tremendous voice, 
 '^ Grating harsh thunder" on the startled ear. 
 While shameless guilt grows pale with trembling fear. 
 
 The tempest of his wrath awhile subdued. 
 As he reposes in a calmer mood. 
 Juniors beware ! look round with careful ken. 
 Lest you disturb the lion in his den. 
 Topping you know full well is no man's foe. 
 Unless^ perchance^ you tread upon his toe. 
 
THE BAR. 121 
 
 Then loud he'll roar^ as roar'd great Mars* with pain. 
 When in fierce combat on the Trojan plain. 
 The great Tydides breathed the god a vein. 
 Or him, who, when his foes poked out his eye. 
 Sent forth a loud and agonizing cry. 
 While earth and ocean trembled far around. 
 And Etna's caverns echo'd with the sound.t 
 
 But patience, juniors ! when the storm blows high. 
 Bend for a while, and let its rage go by ; 
 His irritable temper once at rest, 
 A better heart ne'er warm'd a human breast. 
 A forest oak, that mocks the tempest's rage. 
 He stands still vigorous in a green old age. 
 There, while young saplings spring beneath his shade. 
 Long may he stand and flourish ere he fade. 
 And when at length he falls, as fall he must. 
 Loved be his memory, honour'd be his dust.J 
 
 ^Oaffov T kvv^ayCkoL (nriayov ij CeKct^^lXol 
 Wyepec Ir TroXt/xw, tpi^ijyayoiyrtQ'' Apsoc. — Horn, II. 5. 
 -y Clamorem immeusum tollit ; quo pontus et omnes 
 Intremuere undse, penitusque exterrita tellus 
 Italiae, curvisque immugiit ^tna cavernis — Virr/. En. I. 3. 
 These are certainly two of the greatest " shoutings" 
 upon record, and form very energetic illustrations of the text. 
 X Since this was written, this eminent advocate retired 
 from the bar, and is now no more. Peace to his manes ! 
 
122 THE BAR. 
 
 Behind his brief-bag — ^an enormous pile — 
 Lo ! Scarlett^ blooming with perennial smile, 
 A bold ambitious candidate for fame. 
 Who early on her list enrolled his name. 
 And from that moment made his passions bend. 
 And all his powers to compass one great end. 
 
 Ardent of mind, and conscious of his force. 
 He join'd his rivals in the arduous course. 
 Yet far too wise to waste his strength too soon. 
 For mightier toils he stored the precious boon. 
 And his high spirit, impatient of delay. 
 Discreetly curb'd, and for a time gave way ; 
 With eye observant marked the ^^ vantage ground,*' 
 Where best a certain footing could be found. 
 And when the lucky moment came at last. 
 Whole ranks of lazy, lagging loiterers pass'd. 
 And, while he left them all upon the stare. 
 Shot by, and took his seat '^ within the Bar." 
 
 So on Newmarket or famed Epsom's plains. 
 With flashing eye-balls, and distended veins. 
 When neck to neck, each hot high-mettled steed. 
 Too eager for the sport, goes off at speed ; 
 The prudent jockey, with cool thoughtful mind. 
 Wisely reins in, but still keeps close behind. 
 
THE BAR. ]23 
 
 Till midst the rush for honour and renown. 
 He sees some *^^ bolting/'* and some ^^ broken down/' 
 Then with an arrow's swiftness, '^ making play/' 
 Darts to the goal, and bears the palm away. 
 
 Hark ! when he rises to expound his case, 
 A buz of approbation fills the place. 
 " Look ! what a handsome lawyer," goes around. 
 While notes of admiration much abound. 
 That such a rara avis can be found. 
 '^ La ! what a pleasant face," cries Madam Fig, 
 " I wonders how he'd look without a wig !" 
 " Without a wig !" her sapient spouse replies, 
 ^^ 'Tis in the wig that all their wisdom lies, 
 " 'Tis wig and gown that make the lawyer prate — 
 ^^ Stript him of these — he's dumb as sure as fate." 
 But hush ! the cause begins, or grave or gay. 
 Smiling he starts — smiling pursues his way. 
 O'er rough or smooth he glides, or pro or con, 
 And though not shallow, still runs dimpling on ; 
 
 * To "bolt"— is to break out of the'course. To "break 
 down" is to become suddenly lame, from the back sinews 
 giving way, or any other cause. " Making play," i. e. 
 putting a horse up, approaching to the top of his speed. 
 
 From the authority of one of the most " knowing" 
 jockies of the age — need I add Mr. Buckle. 
 
 f " Strip him of his plumage, and he falls to the 
 earth V— Junius. 
 
124 THE BAR. 
 
 Yet^ as the subject swells^ the interest grows, 
 
 His eloquence with greater volume flows, 
 
 '^ Though deep, yet clear, though gentle yet not dull. 
 
 Strong without rage, without overflowing full,'* 
 
 Sweeping before him, with resistless force. 
 
 All that obstructs his proud triumphant course. 
 
 Clear-sighted, eloquent, acute, refined. 
 No point escapes his penetrating mind. 
 And while his rival from the broad highway. 
 The wavering judgment strives to lead away. 
 And like a will-o-wisp, now in, now out. 
 Involves the light of truth in mist and doubt. 
 Moving the mind's all powerful lens at will. 
 To one bright focus, with consummate skill. 
 And matchless art he draws the scattered rays. 
 Before the jury in one brilliant blaze. 
 Who, as the clouds and fogs all disappear. 
 Fancy they see their way as day-light clear. 
 He sees the flattering dream, and ere they wake. 
 Lulls and confines them in the fond mistake. 
 And when their self-love's wound up to the top. 
 Has the rare gift of knowing when to stop. 
 So when in perilous seas, 'midst hopes and fears. 
 His dubious course the skilful seaman steers. 
 
THE BAR. 12o 
 
 He marks the sunken rocks and shelving shores, 
 And every bay and v^inding creek explores, 
 Careful^ unseen where lurking dangers throng. 
 To keep true soundings as he moves along, 
 Till clear^ he finds '' good sea-room" once again. 
 And floats exulting on the boundless main. 
 Then, while some rival, lagging far behind. 
 Misses his track, and drives before the wind, 
 Or^ worse, neglecting as he drifts to sound. 
 In spite of helm or compass, runs aground ; 
 He spreads his swelling sail with conscious pride. 
 And scuds triumphant, both with gale and tide, 
 . Leaves the sad vvreck of winds and waves the sport. 
 And lands his precious cargo safe in port. 
 
 Yet, trust me, Scarlett's not in fact or law, 
 " That faultless monster which the world ne'er saw," 
 But has, partaking of the common lot. 
 His failings and his faults, — as who has not. 
 Keen and astute, to biting satire prone. 
 His spirit oft assumes a hostile tone. 
 And while you study for the cause in vain. 
 Inflicts a wound regardless of the pain. 
 But should some luckless scrivener* — hapless wight ! 
 Incur his high displeasure, ^vrong or right, 
 
 * See Appendix C 
 
126 THE BAR. 
 
 Then on the trembling slave's devoted head^ 
 With double vengeance, falls his anger dread. 
 
 As savages who take a captive foe. 
 Ne'er kindly immolate him at a blow. 
 But while a gasping breath of life remains, 
 Kill him by inches to prolong his pains. 
 With tortures strange, and cruelties refined. 
 So he, beyond endurance, racks the mind. 
 Tears every nerve, draws blood at every pore. 
 Till fortitude expires, and nature can no more. 
 ^^ Gods !" some old practised limb* is apt to cry. 
 When such a '^ roasting" meets his curious eye, 
 ^^ Can all this difference be betwixt a leader 
 And an obliging smiling special pleader ?" 
 Aud can a Sergeant's coif, or a silk gown. 
 Confer, along with riches and renown. 
 The privilege to strike a man when down ? 
 
 Ye mighty chiefs ! of rank and high degree. 
 Warriors in words, whoe'er you chance to be. 
 Amidst your toils, if e'er in evil hour. 
 Some demon tempt you to abuse your power. 
 
 * A " limb of the law" is an ancient nickname for an 
 attorney. 
 
THE BAR. 127 
 
 Ere yet with polson'd dart^ or deadly pike^ 
 The trembling victim you prepare to strike. 
 Beware ! reflect^ — suspend the threaten'd blow. 
 Nor, coward like, insult a fallen foe; 
 Like some stern sergeant, of despotic will. 
 Who lords it o'er his raw recruits at drill. 
 And basely strikes them, heedless of their pain, 
 (While their blood boils in every throbbing vein,) 
 Because he knows they dare not strike again. 
 
 For, woe to him who, with unbridled tongue. 
 Dashes through thick or thin, or right or \vrong. 
 Reckless whom he bespatters as he goes. 
 Or whether he rides over friends or foes. 
 Who launching forth the arrows of his ^vit. 
 Chuckles whene'er they make a lucky hit. 
 Regardless whom they strike or where they fall. 
 So that they speed, and make a hit at all. 
 Who in cold blood can needlessly impart 
 One pang of anguish to an honest heart. 
 Can wound its feelings in mere wanton sport. 
 On hearsay evidence, or vague report ; 
 Nay worse, with savage pitiless delight. 
 Expose its hidden foibles to the sight. 
 And as a gamester casts with desperate eye 
 His all upon the hazard of a die, 
 
128 THE BAR. 
 
 Will stake his friend for others' foolish fun. 
 And dare to lose him for a senseless pun. 
 
 To such — for such there are, I grieve to say. 
 The sorrowing Muse would sing this warning lay, 
 ^' Let those who throw a stone at all who pass. 
 Take heed their houses are not made of glass ; 
 And ponder this unerring truth full well. 
 That poor insulted nature will rebel. 
 And e'en when writhing with the sudden pain. 
 The worm, when trod upon, will turn again. 
 Vengeance a vigil on their steps will keep. 
 Sting him by day, or stab him in his sleep. 
 And while too late he mourns the impending doom. 
 Cry out — .*'*' behold ! the ides of IMarch are come." 
 Well-natured Raine, whose strong stentorian lungs 
 Would furnish bellows for a hundred tongues. 
 In warfare, like a giant runs his course. 
 And gives the war-whoop with a giant's force. 
 Strikes the crest fallen foe with wild affright. 
 And wins the victory by sheer main and might. 
 
 A horse his ^^ dear delight," or long or short, 
 Oive him a ^^ horse-cause" — that is quite his forte. 
 Hark ! while he pleads with all his might and soul. 
 From court to court his thundering periods roll. 
 
THK BAR. 129 
 
 Not louder roar*d King Dick — so great his £»rce — 
 ^' A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse !"* 
 Yet, 'midst the tumult of dire war's alarms. 
 When 'tis his turn " to rest upon his arms," 
 No longer fierce or irritable, then 
 He smiles, and— Jonathan's ^^ himself again !" 
 Forgetting and forgiving all his foes. 
 His heart with pure good humour overflows ; 
 He talks, he laughs, and slyly cracks his jokes. 
 And whispers nonsense just like other folks ; 
 Till young and old inspired with mirth grow gay, 
 Andi fun becomes the order of the day.t 
 
 In such a humour — full of kitten's play. 
 Should a ^^ choice subject" come within his way. 
 One who should prove reluctant, strange or shy. 
 
 * A ludicrous instance of this sort once occurred. The 
 late Chief Baron Thompson hearing an uncommon noise at 
 the crown end of the Court, (where they were trying 
 causes also,) cried out, " who's that man that's making such 
 a noise, bailiff! turn him out, if he don't hold his tongue." 
 " O my Lord," said Mr. Topping, "its only a friend of 
 our's pleading at the other end of the Court." 
 
 -|- Mr. Raine was held in high estimation by his 
 brethren at the bar for his social and convivial qualities — 
 His pleasantry and facetiousness were said to be as inex- 
 haustible as his good humour. In his absence the toast of 
 " Jonty — and fun !" was amongst the orders of the day — 
 That absence has now become permanent, he having been 
 made a Welsh Judge. 
 
 K 
 
130 THE BAR. 
 
 With waggish look^ he holds his head awry. 
 
 And at the sawney cocks his '^ gimlet eye/'* 
 
 All his vis comica together brings. 
 
 And smiling, ^^ looks unutterable things." 
 
 Till like a fly transfixed upon a pin. 
 
 By his arch drollery, and his comic grin. 
 
 Bored, and bamboozled, the poor wight ^^ gives in." 
 
 Alert, and watchful, WiLLiAMst lurks hard by. 
 Ogling the jury with expressive eye. 
 And as his keen opponent shapes his case. 
 Eyes them askance, with a strange grimace. 
 Now with a face of seeming wonder stares. 
 And catches their attention unawares. 
 Then smiles incredulous at all that's said, 
 Or^ grave as Burleigh, shakes his sapient head. 
 
 ^ " Gimlet eye," an eye that bores one. — Dictionary of 
 the Vulgar Tongue. 
 
 "t* It will be seen that the author does not always class 
 the Counsel according to seniority. Mr. Williams is intro- 
 duced here, as being frequently opposed to Mr. Raine in 
 horse causes. The famous one of Shillito and Claridge, 
 (which was tried three times,) afforded ample scope to their 
 abihties, and great skill in horse flesh — ^both being an^ateurs 
 on the turf. The cause was admirably well tried, ak well 
 as the temper of both advocates; but the coolness and 
 amazing "power of face" of the defendant's Counsel 
 (Williams) at length succeeded, though not till the jury had 
 been locked up from five in the afternoon till eleven next 
 morning ! 
 
THE BAR. 131 
 
 As though he said, in language plain and clear. 
 Can you believe the nonsense that you hear ! 
 
 In spite of prejudice, in reason's spite. 
 Say what you will Lavater must be right. 
 For gifted \vith this mighty power of face. 
 Victorious Williams proves the very case. 
 And, ^^ hoaxing'' both the jury and the foe. 
 Wins half the battle ere he strikes a blow. 
 
 Judicious HuLLOCK* — easy of access, 
 Who ne'er assuming more, or taking less. 
 Than all the world allows to be his due. 
 His client's interest always keeps in view. 
 Heedless of empty fame, or vain applause. 
 Who leaves no ^^ stone unturn'd" to gain his cause. 
 Who, as he clears his rugged passage round, 
 Or delves into the bowels of the ground. 
 With all the care of age, the zeal of youth. 
 From its deep burrow oft unearths the truth, 
 Conceal'd with care beneath the dark abode, 
 By crafty cunning, or foul lurking fraud, 
 And safely hidden from the eagle sight 
 Of eloquence that takes a higher flight. 
 
 * Now one of the Barons of the Court of Exchequer, 
 
 K 2 
 
132 THE BAR. 
 
 Prime prince* of Special Pleaders^ with pale face. 
 And studious look-— come forwards to thy place. 
 Full of recondite learning and strong sense — 
 Whose only fault is — thy pre-eminence. 
 ^^ Painful pre-eminence I" that when the wine 
 Was out — once made thee subject to a fine.t 
 Press forward to the top — make room — for lo ! 
 Close at thy elbow comes thy brother Joe ! j 
 Illustrious pair ! for either side prepared, § 
 March on together to your high reward ; 
 Then will the Bar, the suitors, cry with pain. 
 We ne'er shall look upon their like again. 
 
 With meagre form, and face so wondrous thin. 
 That it resembles Milton's " death and sin,'' 
 Long arms that saw the air like windmill sails. 
 And tongue that in its duty never fails. 
 
 * Hichardson. 
 
 •j- This is hterally true, Mr. R. not having subjected 
 himself in '• the Mess" to any fine in the regular course of 
 things, on the motion of Mr. Scarlett, he was fined for 
 being " so eminent a Special Pleader !" which was carried 
 of course by acclamation. 
 
 J Joseph Littledale, Esq. to whom, it is said, a seat on 
 the Bench has been offered, but declined. The former has 
 been appointed one of the Judges of the Court of Common 
 Pleas. 
 
 § Arcades ambo, 
 
 Et cantare pares, et respondere parati. — Virg, 
 
THE BAR. 133 
 
 Behold the hero of the North ! make room^ 
 For Scotia's " babe of grace" — great Harry 
 
 Brougham.^ 
 A chieftain he of strong elastic mind. 
 That covets all the knowledge of mankind;, 
 And though elusive as the subtle air. 
 Grasps and retains a more than common share. 
 To the huge wonder of each brainless dunce. 
 He's critic, statesman — lawyer — aU at once. 
 Yet if (as sings or says the immortal witt) 
 '^ One science only will one genius fit"— 
 Far better had his passions never stray'd. 
 From that to which his early vows were paid. 
 For he who nobly dares aspire, her mind 
 And its vast treasures to possess, will find 
 A mistress that will " not unsought be won," 
 Nor tamely bear a rival near her throne. 
 Had he the goal still labour'd to pursue. 
 However distant, he first had in view. 
 With well-earn'd wealth, and honest just renown. 
 The highest honours might have been his own. 
 
 * Scottice — " Hairy Broom.'' Though not a native of 
 Scotland, he was educated there ; and the gude folk of that 
 country are apt to claim him as their own — when he pleases 
 them ! 
 
 t Po})e. 
 
134 THE BAR. 
 
 But ah I ambition oft makes fearful odds^ 
 
 {^' That glorious fault of angels and of gods/') 
 
 In mortal man s estate — 'twas this alone 
 
 That raised the great Napoleon to a throne^ 
 
 And when he grew "top-heavy" — ^hurl'd him down. 
 
 'Twas this that tempted;, in an evil hour. 
 
 Our lofty aspirant to grasp at power. 
 
 To quit the certain road to wealth and fame. 
 
 For the mere hollow " whistling of a name/' 
 
 Thus labouring half his life up hill to gain. 
 
 The lofty summit of his hopes — in vain. 
 
 His vast reward — (O what a woeful fall !) 
 
 To be— The Queen's Attorney General !* 
 
 Glad in his vacant moments to renew. 
 
 His old acquaintance with the great " REViEW."t 
 
 So children after shining rainbows run, 
 (Those transient bright creations of the sun,) 
 Which, in the keen pursuit, appear to stay. 
 But, when they try to grasp them, — melt away. 
 
 * Mr. B. was appointed the Queen's Attorney General, 
 in virtue of which office he obtained a silk gown. After her 
 Majesty's death he has been deprived of it again, a measure 
 
 equally needless, illiberal, and it may be added, unjust 
 
 He has, however, applied himself with more than ordinary 
 attention to his profession since that period, circumstances 
 have lately been extremely favourable to his pursuits, par- 
 ticularly on the Northern Circuit. 
 
 t The Edinburgh. 
 
THE BAR. 135 
 
 Sick of the empty honours that await. 
 The harassed leader of a dull debate. 
 Night after night, he vainly wastes his breath. 
 And toils and fags his very soul to death. 
 To prove before the House, with serious face. 
 To demonstration — that, in everv case. 
 The way to save the country, is — no doubt, — 
 To get one party in, and t'other out. 
 
 Yet, while his venial errors to descry. 
 We look with keen and microscopic eye. 
 Let equal justice, with impartial view. 
 Give to his sterling merit all its due ; 
 And own his faults, though scann'd with truth severe. 
 But like dark spots upon the sun appear. 
 Which not a moment cloud its brilliant rays. 
 Lost and extinguished in the general blaze. 
 
 Behold him, then, with large and liberal mind. 
 Of richest, rarest, qualities combined. 
 Bottomed in solid judgment and sound sense, 
 Adorn'd by chaste yet powerful eloquence. 
 Where strength unites with elegance and ease, 
 A classic union that must ever please. 
 
136 THE BAR. 
 
 Thus form'd^ when courts of law demand his care^ 
 You see at once his province is not there. 
 He labours hard;, 'tis true^ takes endless pains. 
 And all his subject to the bottom drains. 
 And when some latent fraud he would descry. 
 Darts from his keen and penetrating eye, 
 A burning glance that makes the witness start, 
 Piercing the inmost secret of his heart ; 
 And, like the touch of great Ithuriel's spear. 
 Compels the "lurking" devil to appear.* 
 
 Yet, spite, of all his zeal, his boundless pains, 
 A deficit, a want of tact, remains, 
 A certain nameless something, more or less. 
 Far better to imagine than express. 
 And which, beyond the art of man to reach. 
 Nothing but vast experience can teach. 
 
 * During Lent Assizes at York, in 1820, Mr. B. sat 
 looking intently at a witness who was giving evidence, and 
 whom he was about to cross-examine, which produced the 
 eiFect attributed to the basilisk ; for the poor fellow, after 
 several ineffectual attempts to go on, declared that he could 
 not say another word, unless " that gentleman," pointing 
 to him, " would take his eyes off him." 
 
 The learned gentleman afterwards tried the same ex- 
 periment on the intrepid Mademoiselle Demont, at the 
 Queen's Trial, but without effect. 
 
THE BAR. 137 
 
 But^ break the fetters that enthrall his mindj, 
 And leave his genius free and unconfined^ 
 Then in his proper sphere^ the senate^ placed^ 
 Give him some subject in which stands embraced 
 Topics of interest and vast magnitude^ 
 But little canvassed^ and less understood^ 
 Which moot the dearest interests of a state, 
 A people's welfare, or an empire's fate ; 
 Such mighty questions, with momentous sway. 
 Bring his transcendant talents into play. 
 And as into its hidden depths they wind. 
 Draw from the vast resources of his mind, 
 A mass of varied knowledge, bright and sound, 
 With views now luminous, and now profound. 
 Resistless arguments brought forth at will. 
 Enforced with vigour, and wound up with skill. 
 Which put all trivial cavils to the rout. 
 And leave the captious mind no room to doubt. 
 
 Halt not my Muse ! and ne'er be at a loss. 
 While yet remains unsung Lancastrian Cross. 
 Grafted* at York too late, he does not grow. 
 Or if he does, 'tis very — very slow. 
 
 * Mr. (now Sergeant) Cross first attended the York- 
 Assizes, when the late Mr. Toppinj^'s health becrun to 
 decline. 
 
138 THE BAIV 
 
 Erect and solemn^ stately^, stiff and starchy 
 As though he were preparing for a march^ 
 He marks the jury with a soldier's eye^* 
 And then '^^ attention !" cries^ or seems to cry. 
 Labouring with big intent, and pompous swell. 
 He seems to draw his knowledge from a well. 
 So long in coming up, so very deep. 
 That, Lethe-like, he sets you all asleep ! 
 Slowly he -speaks, and whatsoe'er his case. 
 Puts on an undertaker's length of face. 
 With equal gravity the facts expounds. 
 For forty shillings or a thousand pounds ! 
 Now solemnly harangues on life and death ! 
 And now, with equal force and waste of breath. 
 And many an earnest look and pause to boot. 
 Largely descants upon some paltry suit. 
 In laboured phrase, which, out of time and place. 
 Serves but to shew his client, to his face. 
 The weakness and the folly of his case. 
 So tawdry trimmings on a threadbare coat. 
 Both pride at once and poverty denote. 
 Thus oft while curiosity — 'hard fate. 
 Dying to know the worst — is forced to wait. 
 
 * He was Colonel of a Corps of Volunteers, at 
 Manchester. 
 
THE BAR. 139 
 
 Stretcli'd on keen expectation's tenter hooks^ 
 His dark mysterious words and ominous looks^, 
 Though '^^ things of pith and moment" they portend^ 
 Prove but the mountain s labour in the end. 
 
 Yet had he been^ with all his faults^ content^ 
 Upon his native ground to pitch his tent^ 
 Through his wide circuit's ever busy scene^ 
 Great Sessions* leader might he still have been^ 
 With growing business tumbling in between. 
 All this^ in luckless hour^ this envied lot^ 
 This ^^ glorious certainty' — he left — for what ? 
 To sit^ where la^vyers in the Common Pleas^ 
 Rise^ as they go to heaven — ^by degrees ; 
 
 * The Learned Sergeant was many 3^ears leader of the 
 Sessions at Manchester, &c. Slc. and had much private 
 practice. His removal to the Court of Common Pleas, on 
 his getting " the coif," was a bold and somewhat hazardous 
 step, considering that it ah'eady possessed such men as Lens, 
 Best, Yaughan, Copley, Pell, &c. &c. &c. The Sergeant 
 possesses a commanding presence, and abilities of no ordi- 
 nary stamp. His great faults are a stiffness in manner, and 
 a slow circuitous method of going to the goal at which he 
 proposes to arrive. What sort of a soldier he avouH have 
 been cannot be ascertained, since happily his mihtary talents 
 were never called into exercise, beyond the field-day on the 
 peaceable plain of Kelsall Moor. But he is the very 
 Fabius of advocates, and never takes any thing by a coup de 
 main ! With his talents, nevertheless, and those wonder- 
 working qualities, patience and perseverance, the learned 
 Sergeant may yet, it is to be hoped, advance u]) nearer the 
 top of the table of good things in liis chosen court. At 
 present he seems to be somewhat '^ below the saU !'* 
 
140 THE BAR. 
 
 And while with greedy maw^ some three or four 
 Voracious chiefs the plenteous feast devour^ 
 Mix with the rest;, who yawn^, and bite their thumbs^ 
 Or feed;, perchance upon the scattered crumbs, 
 A tasty;, teasing^ tantalizing mite^ 
 That only serves to whet the appetite. 
 And make a disappointed stomach feel 
 Outrageous longings for a fuller meal. 
 
 Nimble of speech, stout Maude* has easy work. 
 Content to be a '^^ second best" at York, 
 But to his West- Riding Sessions come. 
 Plays the '^ first fiddle,"t and is quite at home I 
 His circuit's there ! there, cock of all the walk. 
 He knows both when and how to '^'^make a talk !" 
 
 * Francis Maude, Esq. of Hatfield Hall, near Wake- 
 field, a Bencher of the Honourable Society of Gray's Inn, 
 and Leader of the West Riding Sessions, &c. &c. 
 
 -j- The propriety of this phrase can only be understood 
 by those who are acquainted with the musical predilections 
 of this gentleman. He is, "in truth," (a favourite expression 
 of his,) a first-rate amateur, and no despicable performer. 
 They relate the following anecdote in his neighbourhood, 
 which seems quite a'pro'pos to the subject. At a convivial 
 party, not above a hundred miles from " Merry Wakefield," 
 the guests were amusing themselves with toasting their 
 absent friends, connecting each toast with some favourite 
 pursuit of the toastee^ as, "Hawksworth and Hunting," &c. 
 When Mr. H. a learned gentleman there, being called upon 
 in his turn, with great promptitude gave, " Frank Maude 
 and Fiddling." 
 
\ 
 
 THE BAR. 141 
 
 With solid judgment;, and unwearied zeal, 
 None better knows to try you '^ an appeal." 
 SuQcess attends, for wlieresoe'er lie goes. 
 He always leads their worships '' by the nose." 
 Your pardon, Sirs^ I would not fain transgress. 
 This is a blundering error of the press ; 
 Correct it, printer ! when it next appears^, 
 And then for *^* nose" — their worships may read 
 
 Au reste — and jarring politics aside^ 
 That source of discord^ e'en 'mongst friends long tried. 
 That wondrous tube, which whigs or tories use 
 As suits their present end or future views. 
 Through which they see^ without or flaw or fleck. 
 Mountains of vice diminished to a speck^ 
 
 * Mr. M. is said to have " the ear of the court" at 
 these sessions, an advantage which he well knows how to 
 turn to good account. These hints as to the learned gentle- 
 man's leading the bench in the way expressed in this passage, 
 are by no means to be considered as coming from the author, 
 but merely such as have been broadly stated in open court 
 more than once, by counsel when opposed to him (Mr. M.). 
 whether as matter of fact, or out of pique at his success, 
 may be a question. If the latter should be the case, it is 
 hardly fair to attribute it in any degree to the want of im- 
 partiaHty in the Bench. Perhaps, after all, the Bench 
 consider such expressions as having no other meaning than 
 to produce a Uttle effect, in a bad case or a failing argument, 
 and therefore suffer them to pass unnoticed. 
 
142 THE BAR. 
 
 Or^, should they look at foe instead of friend^ 
 Behold with horror through th' inverted end^ 
 Mere warts and peccadilloes of the times^ 
 S weird and distorted into monstrous crimes.* 
 Clear d of this sickening jaundice of the mind^ 
 Maude is the liberal friend of human kind^ 
 And stands (what greater gifts can heaven impart,) 
 Bless'd with a clear head, and an honest heart ! 
 
 Muse ! when to York's dull walls we bid good night. 
 Overlook not Hardy;]: ere thou tak'st thy flight. 
 Hardy, whose eloquence, bold, varied, strong, 
 A copious riv6r briskly flows along. 
 Now smoothly gliding o'er untroubled sands. 
 Now rough and rapid as the theme demands ; 
 Still 'midst its wandering course, he keeps in view 
 The object that he labours to pursue. 
 Nor e'er forgets, on any vain pretence. 
 To make ^^ the sound an echo to the sense." 
 
 Ne'er idle, with the hyp he never frets. 
 And when he is not fishing mends his nets ; 
 
 * '' I' admire Messieurs les hommes ! leur propres de- 
 faults leur paroissent des minuties, au Heu qu'Lls regardent 
 ceux d' autrui avec un microscope." — Ze Diable Boiteuoe^ 
 torn. 1. 
 
 -(- John Hardy, Esq. of Heath, near Wakefield. 
 
THE liAK. 143 
 
 Nay disengaged^ '' sedente curiae' 
 A vacant moment serves him to display^ 
 With pliant fingers that obey his will^ 
 In ^^ striking likenesses" his graphic skilly 
 And oft amidst the dull forensic strife. 
 His learned friends he sketches to the life. 
 Nor let their Lordships owe his skill a grudge. 
 If he should happen — to hit off — a Judge.* 
 
 Had fortune frown' d, and left him no resource. 
 But his own strength wherewith to run his course. 
 Or had ambition fired his youthful mind. 
 And kept it to its lofty track confined. 
 In spite of fate, or of the ^'^ law's delay," 
 Talents like his must once have made their way. 
 Up to the summit now beheld afar, 
 Crown'd with the highest honours of the Bar. 
 Yet if a lucky star upon him smiled. 
 And fortune own'd him as a favourite child. 
 In him her bounteous favour breeds no strife, 
 With the great duties of his public life. 
 
 * Two of these sketches, (viz. those of INIr. Justice 
 Bayley and Baron Wood,) done with a pen, were picked up 
 in the court, and etched by an artist of York. The latter 
 especially, is an admirable hkeness. 
 
144 THE BAR. 
 
 By turns judge^ advocate and soldier^* he 
 With zeal^ sound judgment^ and fidelity 
 Performs his various functions — thus to live^ 
 What more can fortune or ambition give. 
 
 Untired good humour is thy gift^ O WAiLEs^t 
 Which^ like the widovi^'s oil-cruise^ never fails ; 
 Aided with that — whene'er he sallies forth^ 
 Or on the Western Circuity or the Norths, 
 Mix'd with sound sterling sense, he gains his ends, 
 O may the honest parson J ne'er want friends. 
 
 Suitors, who justice seek, and wish for right. 
 Instead of waging an uncertain fight, 
 
 * Mr, Hardy is Recorder of the Borough of Leeds, 
 and Colonel of a Corps of Volunteers. He is also one of 
 the principal proprietors of the extensive and valuable Iron 
 Works, at Low Moor, near Bradford. 
 
 -f Of Potter Newton, near Leeds. 
 
 J " The honest parson." Opus est explanatur. A few 
 years ago, when this gentleman was going to set off for the 
 North Hiding Sessions, the yearly Conference of the Metho- 
 dists had just broke up at that place, and a number of the 
 preachers were departing to their different destinations — 
 One of them coming up to Mr. W. who was about to take 
 his seat in the coach, very kindly and familiarly enquired 
 after his health, as if he had met with an old acquaintance, 
 (which no doubt from the very parsonic appearance of the 
 learned gentleman, he thought he had,) adding, " Well ! / 
 am fixed for the Halifax Circuit — and pray. Brother, where 
 are you bound for ?" — " O !" replied he, " / am bound for 
 the Northern Circuit !" and thus the two brethren parted 
 without further explanation. 
 
THE BAR. 145 
 
 And running risks of special pleading flaws. 
 Let upright Walker arbitrate your cause.* 
 
 Or if in " troubled waters" you have got. 
 Where doubtful rights are your unenvied lot. 
 When special jurymen have had ^' a view" 
 And ^^ clipped and heel'd/' your Counsel sit perdue, 
 Should his kind Lordship, in that solemn pause, 
 (Having perhaps no stomach for the cause,) 
 Hint at a reference, and each side agrees. 
 Which sometimes happens — ^when they've got their 
 
 fees, 
 Walton will weigh the merits of your case. 
 Adjust th' uncertain boundaries of the place. 
 Reduce or raise your weirs on proper grounds. 
 And keep the stream within its ancient bounds. 
 So shall your private feuds and quarrels cease. 
 Neighbours be friends again, and sleep in peace. 
 
 But lo ! amongst the Bar's experienced throng. 
 The ^^ rising hopes"t demand the Muse's song. 
 
 * Of Potter Newton, near Leeds. 
 •f Since this was written a considerable period has 
 elapsed, so that several of the gentlemen, after-mentioned, 
 have advanced in their profession, and given way to a 
 younger race. 
 
146 THE BAR. 
 
 Sagacious Jones,* whom quaking felons bless 
 For that quick-sighted shrewdness and address. 
 Which often saves their trembling hopes from wreck. 
 And from the gallows rescues many a neck. 
 Whose talents, (hitherto concealed in shade) 
 To raise their value, need but be displayed. 
 And when they fairly once get into play, 
 The palm of victory will bear away !t 
 
 Starkie,:|: than whom, none with a quicker eye 
 A slip, or lurking nonsuit, can espy. 
 Or should he fail to creep out of the flaw. 
 Suggest a doubt, or raise '^^ a point of l^w ,*" 
 And if his client in despair appears. 
 To save his pocket, and assuage his fears. 
 None with more judgment, or with less pretence. 
 Knows when to make a well-timed reference ; 
 Thus to put oiF awhile ^^ the evil day," 
 And give him, for another chance, fair play. 
 
 TiNDAL,§ beneath whose sleepy looking eye 
 A fertile mind Lavater would descry, 
 A treasury, fiU'd with intellectual store. 
 From which, the more he takes, it grows the more, 
 
 * Now Recorder of Chester. 
 
 •|- Palmam qui meruit ferat. 
 
 X Author of a Treatise on Criminal Law. 
 
 § N. C. Tindal, Esq. of the Inner Temple. 
 
THE BAR. 147 
 
 A thing unheard of in historic fame^ 
 
 Would the King's treasury always did the same ! 
 
 Acute, ingenious Park, of judgment sound. 
 Than whom no better " second'' can be found. 
 Yet to become a first, upon the ground. 
 
 Pale Pollock who consumes the ^^ midnight oil," 
 And plies his task with unremitting toil. 
 Till, as the life-drops from his cheeks retreat. 
 He looks as though he had forgot-— to eat. 
 
 Holt* who in every thing he says or writes. 
 Sagacity with sound good sense unites. 
 
 "First Wrangler;" ALDERsONt — a sessions 
 "star," 
 Already ^^ cuts a figure" at the Bar, 
 Maintains his academic honours past. 
 And every subject " wrangles" to the last. 
 
 * Author of a Treatise on the Law of Libel, and of 
 several able productions of a political nature. 
 
 f He was First Wrangler when at the University, as 
 was also Mr. Pollock. 
 
 l2 
 
148 THE BAR. 
 
 Broad Blackburn,* of a strong and sturdy mind. 
 By nature for conflicting war designed, 
 A grappler of the genuine bull-dog breed. 
 Must fight, not fawn his way, if he succeed. 
 For, trust me, come what will — fees or no fees- 
 Hell never study Chesterfield to please. 
 
 ^' The last in order, but the first in place," 
 Comes jolly HEYwooDt with his jocund face, 
 ^^ Burly and big, and studious of his ease,"J 
 No more he cares for causes or for fees. 
 But still delights to hear the play of lungs. 
 And, Babel-like, confusion of strange tongues. 
 The tumult and the loud discordant jar. 
 Of squabbling " upgrown children" of the Bar, 
 Delighted listens to the stunning noise. 
 And in their brawls renews his former joys. 
 
 * John Blackburn, Esq. of the Temple. Mr. B. is 
 considered to be a " rising man" in his profession, and has 
 obtained some celebrity amongst that party of which Sir 
 Francis Burdett is reckoned the head. 
 
 -|- John Pemberton Heywood, Esq. of Wakefield. It 
 is some years since Mr. Heywood retired from the Bar, at 
 which period he was the Senior Barrister on the Northern 
 Circuit. For several years before that event took place, he 
 attended the Assizes at York, more for the sake of mingling 
 with his old professional friends, than with any view to 
 business. 
 
 X Cowper. 
 
THE BAR. 149 
 
 So some high-mettled charger in decay, 
 Turn'd out;, and sent a grazing on '^ half pay/' 
 If on the common^ in his devious course, 
 Perchance he sees a distant troop of horse^ 
 Windgalls and spavins are at once forgot^ 
 With ears erect he snorts and gets a trot^ 
 But should the bugle blow^, or trumpet sound. 
 With thundering hoofs he *^^ charges" o'er the ground. 
 Halts on the line, and on the bloodless plain, 
 ^^ Falls in," and fights his battles o'er again. 
 Or so some sportsman, long '^ laid up in port ;" 
 Who though he hunts no more, still loves the sport; 
 If, as he hobbles on his daily rounds. 
 Perchance to hear the distant cry of hounds. 
 The well known music all his soul inspires. 
 And once again he feels his wonted fires. 
 Again, in fancy, goes through all the chace. 
 Though he ne'er budge a bar-length from the place. 
 
 Juniors ! who 'midst the illustrious band remain 
 Yet unrecorded in the Muse's strain. 
 Still while your spirits kindle at each name, 
 And pant to follow in pursuit of fame. 
 As the Law's rough and rugged course ye try. 
 On them for ever keep a stedfast eye. 
 
150 THE BAR, 
 
 The shilling lights of your " time honoured" land,, 
 Aloft^ like flaming beacons^ lo ! they stand. 
 Guiding o'er dangerous tracks, with friendly ray. 
 Lost wandering strangers on their dubious way. 
 And showing, as their arduous course they run, 
 What deeps to sail through, and what rocks to shun, 
 Till escaped from arduous toils and perils past. 
 The vessel gains her destined port at last 
 
 And if perchance, oppress'd by fortune's frown. 
 Your spirits sink desponding and cast down. 
 Remember Esop's hare, that, like the wind^ 
 Left the slow-crawling tortoise far behind. 
 Yet loitering oft, and stopping by the way. 
 Sometimes to slumber, and sometimes to play ; 
 Her rival still urged on her plodding pace. 
 And, by sheer perseverance, won the race !* 
 Think, how with poverty, that '' no man's friend,'' 
 And all the evils which its steps attend, 
 Saunderst or Foster once had to contend ! 
 
 * II broute, il se repose, 
 II s' amuse a tout autre chose, 
 Qu' a la gageure, a la ^n^ quand il vit 
 Que r autre touchoils presque au bout de la carriere, 
 II partit comme un trait, Mais elans qu'il fit, 
 Furent vains : la tortue arriva la premiere. 
 
 Fables de la Fontaine. 
 t See Part I. 
 
THE BAR. 151 
 
 And spite of rival friends or secret foes^ 
 Up to the highest honours proudly rose ! 
 
 If these^ and many more of mighty name^, 
 Have fought their way to fortune and to fame. 
 Take heart ! and think as you advance en train, 
 What has been done, may yet be done again ! 
 Who follows fortune never should despair. 
 Faint heart and lagging step ne'er won the fair. 
 Bravely aspire ! push on with heart and soul. 
 Each in his turn may reach the envied goal. 
 And though the path be rugged, steep and straight. 
 And fiird with mazes dark and intricate. 
 Yet the proud lofty summit to attain. 
 Who strives in earnest seldom strives in vain. 
 
 Then, forward ! with firm step and daring eye. 
 Boldly all dangers and all doubts defy; 
 Fag up the hill, till your probation's o'er. 
 And be what Holt or Mansfield was before ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 A. 
 
 Shone portly CockelVs honest round red face. — Page 115. 
 
 Of the late Sergeant Cockell very little has been made 
 known to the public. He was a native of Pontefract, and was 
 articled to an attorney at Halifax, where there are persons 
 yet living who remember him frequenting a club where 
 he was reckoned|a first-rate spouter. He was at a future 
 period called to the Bar, and went on the Northern Circuit, 
 where he was many years the antagonist of Mr. Law, (after- 
 wards Lord Eilenborough.) He was of a robust make, with 
 a full rubicond face, and large dark and very expressive eyes, 
 of which he well knew the perfect use, particularly in his 
 examination of Yorkshire witnesses, in which he shone 
 unrivalled. He was a man of great natural power of mind, 
 which, together with an excellent memory, supported him 
 on every emergency, and frequently with very little previ- 
 ous preparation. The Sergeant was a mighty great lover of 
 wine and strong drink, of which he used to take very liberal 
 potations. On such occasions he often created no small 
 alarm to his clients, a singular mstance of which is well 
 known to some of the Senior Barristers on the Northern 
 Circuit. It was in a cause tried at York, of great magni- 
 tude and importance, in which he was leader for one of the 
 
154 APPENDIX TO PART II. 
 
 parties. On the evening preceding the trial, a consultation 
 was held at his lodgings, at which, to the great consternation 
 of the attorney by whom he was retained, the learned 
 Sergeant was " too far gone," to talk about business, who 
 presently prepared to take his departure overwhelmed with 
 despair, He was however re-assured, by a promise that 
 " all should be right and ready in the morning." After be- 
 ing made acquainted by the Junior Counsel (the present 
 learned and worthy leader of the West Riding Sessions) 
 with the principal points in the cause, he tied a napkin 
 dipped in cold water round his head — slept a few hours — and 
 arose again between four and five in the morning, quite 
 " himself again !" When the Court opened, he was ready 
 with his usual good looks and presence of mind. He then 
 went on with the cause, (which lasted the whole day,) and, to 
 the great surprize and satisfaction of the quaking attorney 
 and his client, succeeded in getting a verdict, and it was 
 remarked, that he never distinguished himself more than on 
 that memorable occasion ! 
 
 His constitution, naturally robust, suddenly gave way, 
 and he died of a rapid decline, at his house in Pontefract. 
 The Sergeant was a good tempered, kiiid-hearted and bene- 
 volent man, and died regretted as he had lived, respected 
 and beloved by the Bar — his family and friends. 
 
 Had he continued still — in statu quo Page 11 7. 
 
 The first time Mr Justice Park went on the Western 
 Circuit, his conduct on the Bench was not thought to be the 
 
APPENDIX TO PART 11. 155 
 
 most dignified or conciliating in the world, by which he 
 drew upon himself' some severe animadversions, in a letter 
 soon after published and addressed to his Lordship. 
 
 That his Lordship does not receive much personal respect 
 or deference to his opinions from the Bar, has often been 
 remarked, and on no occasion was the truth of the observa- 
 tion ever more strongly manifested than in the following 
 instance, as reported in the public prints, 25th June, 1823» 
 In the Common Pleas — Thurtell v. BeaumonL 
 In the course of this cause, the following extraordinary 
 scene took place. Mr. Sergeant Taddy was examining a 
 witness from Norfolk, and asked him a question about some- 
 thing that happened " after the plaintiff had disappeared 
 from that neighbourhood," as the Sergeant expressed it. 
 
 Mr. Justice Park — *' That is an improper question, and 
 ought not to have been put." 
 
 Mr. Sergeant Taddy — " That is an imputation to which 
 I will not submit. I am incapable of putting an improper 
 question to any witness." 
 
 Mr. Justice Park — " What imputation. Sir ? I desire 
 you will not charge me with casting imputations. I say the 
 question was not properly put, for the expression ' to dis- 
 appear' means ' to leave clandestinely'." 
 
 Sergeant Taddy — " I say it means no such thing." 
 Mr. Justice Park — ^' I hope I have some understanding 
 left, and so far as that goes, the word certainly bore that 
 interpretation, and was therefore improper." 
 
 Sergeant Taddy — " I never will submit to a rebuke of 
 this kind." 
 
 Mr. Justice Park — " This is a very improper manner. 
 Sir, for a Counsel to address the Bench in." 
 
156 APPENDIX TO PART II. 
 
 Sergeant Taddy — " And that is a very improper manner 
 for a Judge to address Counsel in." 
 
 Mr. Justice Park — " I protest, Sir, you will compel me to 
 do what is very disagreeable to me.'* [Rising with warmth.] 
 Sergeant Taddy — " Do what you like, my Lord !" [With 
 equal warmth.] 
 
 Mr. Justice Park — (Resuming his seat) " Well, I hope I 
 shall manifest the indulgence of a Christian Judge." 
 
 Sergeant Taddy — " You may exercise your indulgence, 
 or your power, in any way your Lordship's discretion may 
 suggest, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me." 
 
 Mr. Justice Park — " I have the functions of a Judge to 
 discharge, and in doing so, I must not be reproved in this 
 kind of way." 
 
 Sergeant Taddy — " And I have a duty to discharge as 
 Counsel, which I shall discharge as I think proper, without 
 submitting to a rebuke from any quarter." 
 
 [Here Mr. Sergeant Lens rose to interfere.] 
 Sergeant Taddy — " No ! brother Lens ! I must protest 
 against the interference." 
 
 Sergeant Lens — " My brother Taddy, my Lord, has been 
 betrayed into some warmth." 
 
 Sergeant Taddy — (Pulling back Sergeant Lens into his 
 place.) "I again protest against any interference on my 
 account, I am quite prepared to answer for my own 
 conduct." 
 
 Mr. Justice Park — " My brother Lens, Sir, has a right 
 to be heard." 
 
 Sei^eant Taddy—" Not on my account. I am fully capa- 
 ble of answering for myself." 
 
 Mr. Justice Park—" Has he not a right to possess the 
 Court on any subject he pleases ?" 
 
APPENDIX TO PART II. 157 
 
 Seijeant Taddy — " Not while I am in possession of it, 
 and am examining a witness." 
 
 Here the dispute ended, and his Lordship threw himself 
 back in his chair, and was silent. 
 
 But should some luckless scrivener — hapless wight! Page 125. 
 
 There is an immeasurable distance between a Barrister 
 and an Attorney ; and many of the former have, or affect 
 to have, an absolute antipathy to the latter. Mr. Scarlett 
 seems to be no great admirer of them himself. In truth, he 
 may be said to be what Dr. Johnson used to call a " good 
 hater" of the fraternity, and never loses an opportunity of 
 declaring his sentunents. In the celebrated cause of 
 " Hodgson and Scarlett," tried at Lancaster, in 1817, the 
 hostility which gave birth to it had been carried to a great 
 length. Mr. Holt gives a fuU report of the subsequent 
 arguments upon the case, by which it appears that the 
 Judges were unanimous in their opinions, that such an 
 action could not be maintained.* Upon a dispassionate 
 review of those arguments, one may coUect at least three 
 good reasons, why Counsel should be more abstemious in 
 their vituperations of those gentlemen. L They (the 
 Barristers) are sure of the protection of the Court. 2. The 
 abused party cannot reply to any observations, nowever 
 strong, that may be made on his character or conduct. 3. 
 Nor can he have any redress or satisfaction out of Court. 
 
 * Reports of Cases argued and ruled at Nisi Prius, in the Com- 
 mon Pleas, and on the Northern Circuit— V. 1. p. 3. 
 
158 APPENDIX TO PART II. 
 
 He cannot maintain an action against the offender, because, 
 though his remarks may cut his very heart-strings, and ex- 
 pose him to the derision or contempt of the whole world, 
 yet if they should be " pertinent to the matter in issue" — 
 it all " goes for nothing !" And as to deciding it as a 
 question of honour — that is out of the question entirely. — 
 For these reasons, it does seem not only hard but unfair to 
 attack an individual, so situated, with that excess of viru- 
 lence which is too frequently manifested, and which nothing 
 but the most flagrant misconduct can justify or excuse. 
 
 "Brow-beating," more or less, has always been held as one 
 of the immemorial privileges of a Barrister. In the time 
 of Coke it was at its highest state of perfection. " This 
 great lawyer," says an agreeable modern author, " perhaps 
 set the example of that style of railing and invective at our 
 Bar, which the egotism and craven insolence of some of our 
 lawyers still make use of in their practice there." His 
 gross and vulgar abuse of the celebrated Rawleigh is then 
 given as a specimen, a short extract from which will be 
 enough to exhibit both his virulence and Sir Walter's dignity 
 and rool contempt. He described him as '^ a viper and a 
 monster, with an English face and Spanish heart, against 
 whom there was no occasion to confront the witnesses — ^his 
 criminality was evident, and he was a reptile, and the dregs 
 of the earth," and afterwards, "he was the most vile and 
 execrable traitor that ever existed in the world, &c. &c." 
 
 Sir Walter — " You speak indiscreetly and barbarously." 
 
 Attorney General — " I cannot find words to express such 
 viperous treasons." 
 
 Sir Walter — " I think you want words, indeed, for you 
 have repeated one thing half a dozen times." 
 
APPENDIX TO PART II. 159 
 
 Attorney General — '' Thou art an odious fellow, and thy 
 name is hateful to all England for thy pride." 
 
 Sir Walter — " It will then go near to prove a measuring 
 cast between you and me Mr. Attorney." 
 
 " This style of railing," contmues our author, " was long 
 the privilege of lawyers. It was received by Judge 
 Jefferies, &c."* and it may be added, that it continues in 
 vogue, though not to the same extent, to the present day. 
 
 That noble animal, the lion, is said always to keep on 
 " the best terms" with his provider — cleaving him a portion 
 of the food he furnishes him with ; but though the Attorney 
 may be said to stand somewhat in the same capacity to the 
 Barrister, it is rarely that he regards him with complaisance, 
 much less does he treat him with any thing like gratitude. As 
 to the occasional harsh conduct of the subject of this note, 
 in this respect, it does not appear difficult to account for it. 
 Mr. S. rose rapidly in his profession, and has for some years 
 enjoyed an unparalleled degree of success in it. The next 
 great object of his ambition, was, of course, a seat in " the 
 House," and though foiled in his two contests for the borough 
 of Lewisham, he at length, (thanks to the good offices of a 
 certain learned friend of his, not above a hundred miles 
 from H — ^tf— d H — ^11, in Yorkshire,) got snugly seated for 
 that of Peterborough, under the auspices of Earl Fitzwilliam. 
 By the way, these same "rotten boroughs" are vastly 
 convenient places of refuge, on such occasions, even to the 
 incorruptible whigs ! And then, as a matter of course — 
 and almost of equal consequence — he had the rare good for- 
 tune to be elected a member of Brookes ! 
 
 * D'Israeli: Curiosities of Literature— Second Series. 
 
160 APPENDIX TO PART II. 
 
 With all these honours " blushing thick upon him," it is 
 no mighty great wonder if his natural hauteur has of late 
 years somewhat increased, and hence we may also account 
 for his cavalier treatment of the gentlemen in question. — 
 It is time however, in this age of refinement, that a greater 
 degree of liberality should be used in this respect, which 
 never will be the case, till the leading men of the day choose 
 to set the example to their Junior Brethren, who, like all 
 the rest of mankind, soon get enamoured of power, and are 
 not slow to imitate that sort of conduct in their Seniors 
 which its possession they imagine, authorizes and justifies. 
 To a discreet and moderate exercise of their privileges there 
 can be no objection, but that unfair and wanton abuse of 
 those privileges, which but too frequently takes place in our 
 Courts of Law, is as unwise as it is unjust and illiberal, and 
 will never be countenanced by the candid and unprejudiced 
 part of mankind. 
 
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