hum of admiration, and sometimes an outburst of louder applause as they march in procession from the northern gate to their respective courts. In olden time, and even so late as George IV.'s reign, each term of the year was opened with this formal procession, the ceremony being in many respects more impressive than at present.

To receive the judges on the opening of each new term, the serjeants used to take up position on the west side of the Hall, immediately before their court. There standing in single file, with their faces towards the east wall, they waited the arrival of the judges, who appeared in due order,-first, the Lord Chancellor and his officers; next, the justices of the King's Bench; in the third place, the judges of the Common Pleas ; lastly, the Barons of the Exchequer. On coming up to the serjeants the Chancellor shook each serjeant by the hand, saying, as he did so, "How d'ye do, brother? I wish you a good term." Having thus greeted each wearer of the coif, his lordship, attended by his officers, passed on to the Chancery at the southern end of the Hall. In like manner each judge of the King's Bench greeted each serjeant, and then, with his fellows, passed up to the Court of King's Bench. The same urbanity having been displayed by the justices of the Common Pleas, they passed into the peculiar court of the serjeants. Lastly, the Barons of the Exchequer approached, and shaking hands with their dear brothers, the serjeants,* they wheeled round and marched into the Court of Exchequer.

In 1825 the new courts of law in Westminster Hall were

* What pen can do justice to the ancient dignity and splendour of the serjeants, the sumptuous excess of their banquets, which Dugdale describes with entertaining prolixity, the parti-coloured robes with which they formerly charmed the vulgar taste, the sacred wisdom of their order, about which Fortescue speaks with reverential affection, and their ancient privileges, of which the present Queen's ancient serjeant, Mr. Serjeant Manning, has written with characteristic erudition in his "Serviens ad Legem ?" Of their coifs and caps something has been said in a former part of this work. Allusion also has been made to their ancient custom of standing at the pillars of St. Paul's, and publicly vending their opinions,—a custom referred to in Chaucer's oft-quoted lines,

"A serjeant of the lawe, ware and wise,

That often hadde yben at the parvis,
There was also, full riche of excellence,
Discreet he was and of gret reverence,

in process of construction; and in consequence of the disarrangement of the Hall by builders and carpenters, Hilary Term of that year was not opened in the usual manner. Having breakfasted with Lord Eldon in Lincoln's Inn Hall, the Common-law judges took their leave of the Chancellor at half-past twelve o'clock, and drove to Westminster. At the end of Parliament Street the carriages of the King's Bench justices diverged to the right, and drew up before the new Sessions House, where the Chief Justice held his court, whilst his present chamber was being built. The judges of the Common Pleas and the Barons of the Exchequer took possession of their appointed seats in Westminster Hall; but the serjeants, instead of waiting in file for the greetings of the

He semed swiche, his wordes were so wise,
Justice he was ful often in assize,
By patent and by pleine commissioun.
For his science and his high renoun
Of fees and robes he had many on,
So gret a pourchasour was no wher non,
All was fee simple to him in effect,
His pourchasing might not been in suspect.
No wher so besy a man there n'as,
And yet he semed besier than he was,
In termes hadde he cas and domes alle,
That fro the time of King Will were a falle,
Thereto he coude endite and make a thing,
Ther coude no wight pinche at his writing;
And every statute could he plaine by rote.
He rode but homely, in a medlee cote,
Girt with a seint of silk with barres smale,
Of his array tell I no longer tale."

Of this pervise of old St. Paul's Mr. James Manning, Q.A.S., observes-" Fortescue
(De Laudibus, c. 51) says, 'Sed placitantes tunc se divertunt ad pervisum et alibi,
consulentes cum servientibus ad legem, &c.' Ducange says, 'Paradisus, atrium
porticibus circundatum ante ædes sacras, ex. gr. apáduσos, qui ab Hesychio
definitur τόπος ἐν τῷ περίπατοι, locus porticibus et deambulatoriis circundatus,
vulgo, parvis." From this use of the word paradisus doubtless came the name of
the ancient place of entertainment called "Paradise" which was kept in the purlieus
of the Hall. So early as Henry VII.'s reign the custody and profits derived from
"Paradyse,"
," "Hell," "Purgatory," were granted by the crown to courtiers. In
Charles II.'s London the first mentioned of these drink-shops was frequently called
"Heaven," by which title Hudibras alludes to it in the line, "False Heaven, at
the end of the Hall." It stood in Old Palace Yard.

Before legislation of the present reign (9 and 10 Vict., c. 54) finally deprived the

judges before their chamber, assembled in the Court of Common Pleas, and there expected the arrival of their justices. Whilst the alterations were going forward at Westminster Hall, the Lord Chancellor sate in Lincoln's Inn Hall.

Having spent enough time in the Hall, let us make for the parks; but as we cross Palace Yard,' and look again at the Northern Gate, let us remember that in olden time, and so late as the opening of this century, the exterior aspect of the Hall, like the outside of the Temple Church at the same date, was much disfigured by mean and unsightly buildings. Close against the wall, on the right hand of a person entering the Hall, stood the old Exchequer Coffee House, where the advocates of George III.'s era used to meet their clients in consultation. Describing in 1800 the disfigurements of the Hall, Ireland says "This shameful negligence, in not preserving the original parts, is most conspicuous in the removal of the figures in front; and in the concealment of them, by the erection of those nuisances, the coffee-houses, at the entrance. The Gothic points of the niches are still discernible over part of the Exchequer Coffee House; and the whole-length figures, in the niches beneath them, we have reason to believe are yet

serjeants of their ancient monopoly in the Common Pleas, rendering permanent the change temporarily effected by William IV.'s warrant, the power and prosperity of the serjeants had undergone several variations, and upon the whole very great diminution. At the close of Mary's reign, and at the opening of Elizabeth's, they were in a state of depression,-for either Serjeant Bendloes was actually the only serjeant in existence for several months at that time, or he was the only serjeant who for a while attended Westminster Hall in the pursuit of business. Under Elizabeth the order regained much of their ancient prestige; and throughout the seventeenth century they were powerful and respected,-although their futile opposition to Francis North on Dumb Day, when they refused to speak, tended to make them ridiculous in the eyes of the public. Throughout the eighteenth century they steadily lost influence, and notwithstanding the eminence of some of their fraternity, became objects of pleasantry with the advocates of Erskine's date. Buller used to call them "the heavy blacks;" in allusion to the question often heard in Westminster Hall, "Why is a serjeant's speech like a tailor's goose ?"—to which query the answer was, "Because it is hot and heavy." Of late years their decay has been even more rapid and visible. The statute already mentioned was a disastrous blow to an order which in the minds of flippant laymen is associated with Charles Dickens's inimitable caricature of Mr. Serjeant Busfuz, in the 'Pickwick Papers.' The ancient brotherhood of serjeants, however, still numbers some able and very successful practitioners at the bar, who for the most part hold patents of precedence by virtue of which they rank with queen's counsel.

standing. In an ancient print which we have seen of this building, published before the coffee-houses were erected, the figures all appeared perfect; and in course gave great relief to the general elevation. We cannot but sincerely regret the sad innovations that have been made all along this whole range of buildings, by projections of sheds, porter-shops, and other excrescences of the meanest character; which being here huddled promiscuously together, conceal from the public eye every vestige of antiquity."

VOL. II.

B B

T the present time, when three out of every five journalists attached to our chief London newspapers are Inns-ofCourt men; when many of our able and successful advocates are known to ply their pens in organs of periodical literature as regularly as they raise their voices in courts of justice; and when the young Templar, who has borne away the first honours of his university, deems himself the object of a flattering compliment when he is for the first time invited to contribute to the columns of a leading review or daily journal-it is difficult to believe that strong men are still amongst us who can remember the days when it was the fashion of the bar to disdain law-students who were suspected of "writing for hire" and barristers who "reported for the papers." Throughout the opening years of the present century, and even much later, it was almost universally held on the circuits and in Westminster Hall, that Inns-of-Court men lowered the dignity of their order by following those literary avocations by which some of the brightest ornaments of the law supported themselves at the outset of their professional careers. Notwithstanding this prejudice, a few wearers of the long robe, daring by nature, or rendered bold by necessity, persisted in "maintaining a connexion with the press" whilst they sought briefs on circuit, or waited for clients in their chambers. Such men as Serjeant Spankie and Lord Campbell, as Master Stephen and Mr. Justice Talfourd, were reporters for the press whilst they kept terms; and no sooner had Henry Brougham's eloquence charmed the public, than it was whispered that for years his pen, no less ready than his tongue, had found constant employment in organs of political intelligence.