his lordship had worn at a masquerade ball, and consisted of a green tabinet coat decorated with large mother-of-pearl buttons, a waistcoat of yellow relieved by black stripes, and buff breeches. When he first entered the court, and throughout all the earlier part of the proceedings against a party of rebels, his judicial robes altogether concealed this grotesque attire ; but unfortunately towards the close of the sultry day's work, Lord Norbury-oppressed by the stifling atmosphere of the court, and forgetting all about the levity as well as the lightness of his inner raiment-threw back his judicial robe and displayed the dress which several persons then present had seen him wear at Lady Castlereagh's ball. Ere the spectators recovered from their first surprise, Lord Norbury, quite unconscious of his indecorum, had begun to pass sentence of death on a gang of prisoners, speaking to them in a solemn voice that contrasted painfully with the inappropriateness of his cos

tume.

In the following bright and picturesque sentence, Dr. Dibdin gives a life-like portrait of Erskine, whose personal vanity was only equalled by the egotism which often gave piquancy to his orations, and never lessened their effect:-" Cocked hats and ruffles, with satin small-clothes and silk stockings, at this time constituted the usual evening dress. Erskine, though a good deal shorter than his brethren, somehow always seemed to take the lead both in pace and in discourse, and shouts of laughter would frequently follow his dicta. Among the surrounding promenaders, he and the one-armed Mingay seemed to be the main objects of attraction. Towards evening, it was the fashion for the leading counsel to promenade during the summer in the Temple Gardens, and I usually formed one in the thronging mall of loungers and spectators. I had analysed Blackstone, and wished to publish it under a dedication to Mr. Erskine. Having requested the favour of an interview, he received me graciously at breakfast before nine, attired in the smart dress of the times, a dark green coat, scarlet waistcoat, and silk breeches. He left his coffee, stood the whole time looking at the chart I had had cut in copper, and appeared much gratified. On leaving him, a chariot-and-four drew up to wheel him to some provincial town on a special retainer. He was then

coining money as fast as his chariot wheels rolled along." Erskine's advocacy was marked by that attention to trifles which has often contributed to the success of distinguished artists. His special retainers frequently took him to parts of the country where he was a stranger, and required him to make eloquent speeches in courts which his voice had never tested. It was his custom on reaching the town where he would have to plead on the following day, to visit the court overnight, and examine its arrangements, so that when the time for action arrived he might address the jury from the most favourable spot in the chamber. He was a theatrical speaker, and omitted no pains to secure theatrical effect. It was noticed that he never appeared within the bar until the cause célèbre had been called; and a buzz of excitement and anxious expectation testified the eagerness of the assembled crowd to see, as well as to hear, the celebrated advocate. Every article of his bar costume received his especial consideration; artifice could be discerned in the modulations of his voice, the expressions of his countenance, and the movements of his entire body; but the coldest observer did not detect the artifice until it had stirred his heart. Rumour unjustly asserted that he never uttered an impetuous peroration which he had not frequently rehearsed in private before a mirror. About the cut and curls of his wigs, their texture and colour, he was very particular; and the hands which he extended in entreaty towards British juries were always cased in lemon-coloured kid gloves.

Erskine was not more noticeable for the foppishness of his dress than was Lord Kenyon for a sordid attire. Whilst he was a leading advocate within the bar, Lord Kenyon's ordinary costume would have disgraced a copying clerk; and during his later years, it was a question amongst barristers whether his breeches were made of velvet or leather. The wits maintained that when he kissed hands upon his elevation to the Attorney's place, he went to court in a second-hand suit purchased from Lord Stormont's valet. In the letter attributed to him by a clever writer in the " Rolliad," he is made to say-"My income has been cruelly estimated at seven, or, as some will have it, eight thousand pounds per annum. I shall save myself the mortification of denying that I am rich, and refer you to the

vonstant habits and whole tenour of my life. The proof to my Arenda a easy. My tailor's bill for the last fifteen years is a pienet of the most indisputable authority. Malicious souls may tant you, perhaps, to Lord Stormont's valet de chambre, and * youch the anecdote that on the day when I kissed hands for my appointment to the office of Attorney General, I appeared in a laced waistcoat that once belonged to his master. I bought the waistcoat, but despise the insinuation; nor is this the only instance in which I am obliged to diminish my wants and apportion them to my very limited means. Lady K *... be my witness that until my last appointment I was an atter stranger to the luxury of a pocket-handkerchief." The porxet-handkerchief which then came into his possession was exposed to have been found in the pocket of the second-hand waistcoat; and Jekyll always maintained that, as it was not considered in the purchase, it remained the valet's property, and did not pass into the lawyer's rightful possession. This was the only handkerchief which Lord Kenyon is said to have ever possessed, and Lord Ellenborough alluded to it when, in a conversation that turned upon the economy which the incometax would necessitate in all ranks of life, he observed―" Lord Kenyon, who is not very nice, intends to meet the crisis by laying down his handkerchief."

Of his lordship's way of getting through seasons of catarrh without a handkerchief, there are several stories that would scarcely please the fastidious readers of these volumes.

Of his two wigs (one considerably less worn than the other), and of his two hats (the better of which would not have greatly disfigured an old clothesman, whilst the worse would have been of service to a professional scarecrow) Lord Kenyon took jealous care. The inferior wig was always worn with the better hat, and the more dilapidated hat with the superior wig; and it was noticed that when he appeared in court with the shabbier wig he never removed his chapeau; whereas, on the days when he sat in his more decent wig, he pushed his old cocked hat out of sight. In the privacy of his house and in his carriage, whenever he travelled beyond the limits of town, he used to lay aside wig and hat, and cover his head with an old red nightcap. Concerning his great-coat, the original blackness of which

had been tempered by long usage into a fuscous green, capital tales were fabricated. The wits could not spare even his shoes.

Once," Dr. Dibdin gravely narrated, "in the case of an action brought for the non-fulfilment of a contract on a large scale for shoes, the question mainly was, whether or not they were well and soundly made and with the best materials. A number of witnesses were called, one of them, a first-rate character in the gentle craft, being closely questioned, returned contradictory answers, when the Chief Justice observed, pointing to his own shoes, which were regularly bestridden by the broad silver buckle of the day, 'Were the shoes anything like these?' 'No, my lord,' replied the evidence, they were a good deal better and more genteeler.'" Dr. Dibdin is at needless pains to assure his readers that the shoemaker's answer was followed by uproarious laughter.

PART VIII.-MUSIC.

SCHOL

CHOLASTIC disciplinarians are almost unanimous in regarding a taste for music as a dangerous propensity in the young student. Eighteen years have passed since this writer heard an Oxford tutor implore a freshman, in whom he took friendly as well as professional interest, to cast musical instruments from his room, and to regard the choral service of his college chapel as a temptation rather than as a source of delight. The undergraduate had been found guilty of receiving, entertaining, harbouring, and playing upon a certain cottage-piano which had been placed in his private chamber by a trustful tradesman of the High Street; and in mitigation of judgment the guilty youth, with mingled simplicity and impudence, had urged that his chief motive in ordering the pernicious piece of mechanism was a wish to make his academic cell remind him of his own virtuous home in a distant province. "I urge you again," said dear old Christopher Pontifex, to the great delight of a crowded 'lecture,' who were witnesses of the scene and hearers of the vicegerent's exhortation, "to throw that piece of furniture out of the window, or in some other way place yourself beyond its insidious influence. If you cannot overcome an absurd desire to make your room resemble a lady's drawingroom, retain the piano-but get rid of the works. That would be a step in the right direction. Your vision would be gratified, whilst your mind would escape a poison. In the pleasure which you derive from the sight of a piano, I own myself unable to participate. To me a piano is a gloomy object, surrounded with mournful associations and sad memories. Let me tell