Lord Fortescue. His lordship was disfigured by a purple nose of abnormal growth. Interrupting counsel one day with the observation: "Brother, brother, you are handling the case in a very lame manner," the angry counsel calmly retorted, "Pardon me, my lord; have patience with me and I will do my best to make the case as plain as—as—the nose on your lordship's face." Nor did the retort of an Attorney-General to a judge, after a warm discussion on a point which the latter claimed to decide, show much respect for the Bench. The judge closed the argument with "I ruled so and so."—"You ruled," muttered the Attorney-General. "You ruled! You were never fit to rule anything but a copy-book."

Verse has been used as a medium of much amusing legal wit and humour, although law and law cases do not offer very easy subjects for turning into rhyme. But a good illustration is afforded by Mr. Justice Powis, who had a habit of repeating the phrase, "Look, do you see," and "I humbly conceive." At York Assize Court on one occasion he said to Mr. Yorke, afterwards Lord Hardwicke, "Mr. Yorke, I understand you are going to publish a poetical version of 'Coke upon Lyttelton.' Will you favour me with a specimen?"—"Certainly, my lord," replied the barrister, who thereupon gravely recited:

In Sir James Burrows' reports is given a poetical version of Chief Justice Pratt's decision with regard to a woman of English birth who was the widow of a foreigner.

The Chief Justice's decision having been reversed by his successor, Chief Justice Ryder's decision was reported:

EDWARD THURLOW, BARON THURLOW. LORD CHANCELLOR.

Many of the well-known witticisms attributed to great judges are so tinged with personality—even tending to malignity—that no one possessing respect for human nature can read them without being tempted to regard them as mere biographical fabrications. But such a construction cannot be put upon the stories told of Lord Chancellor Thurlow, whose overbearing insolence to the Bar is well known. To a few friends like John Scott, Lord Eldon, and Lloyd Kenyon, Lord Kenyon, he could be consistently indulgent; but to those who provoked him by an independent and fearless manner he was little short of a persecutor. Once when Scott was about to follow his leader, who had made an unusually able speech, the Chancellor addressed him: "Mr. Scott, I am glad to find you are engaged in the cause, for I now stand some chance of knowing something about the matter." This same leader of the Bar on one occasion, in the excitement of professional altercation, made use of an undignified expression before Lord Thurlow; but before his lordship could take notice of it the counsel immediately apologised, saying, "My lord, I beg your lordship's pardon. I really forgot for the moment where I was." A silent recognition of the apology would have made the counsel feel his position more keenly, but the Chancellor could not let such an opportunity pass and immediately flashed out: "You thought you were in your own Court, I presume," alluding to a Welsh judgeship held by the offending counsel.

As a contrast to Lord Thurlow's treatment of Scott's leader, the following story—given in Scott's own words—shows how the great Chancellor could unbend himself in the company of men who were in his favour. "After dinner, one day when nobody was present but Lord Kenyon and myself, Lord Thurlow said, 'Taffy, I decided a cause this morning, and I saw from Scott's face that he doubted whether I was right.' Thurlow then stated his view of the case, and Kenyon instantly said, 'Your decision was quite right.' 'What say you to that?' asked the Chancellor. I said, 'I did not presume to form a case on which they were both agreed. But I think a fact has not been mentioned, which may be material.' I was about to state the fact, and my reasons. Kenyon, however, broke in upon me, and with some warmth stated that I was always so obstinate there was no dealing with me. 'Nay,' interposed Thurlow, 'that's not fair. You, Taffy, are obstinate, and give no reasons. You, Jack, are obstinate too; but then you give your reasons, and d—d bad ones they are!'"

Another anecdote again illustrates the Chancellor's treatment of even those who were on a friendly footing with him. Sir Thomas Davenport, a great Nisi Prius leader, had long flattered himself with the hope of succeeding to some valuable appointment in the law; but several good things passing by, he lost his patience and temper along with them. At last he addressed this laconic application to his patron: "The Chief Justiceship of Chester is vacant; am I to have it?" and received the following laconic answer: "No! by G—d! Kenyon shall have it."

Scarcely less courteous was this Lord Chancellor's treatment of a solicitor who endeavoured to prove to him a certain person's death. To all his statements the Chancellor replied, "Sir, that is no proof," till at last the solicitor losing patience exclaimed: "Really, my lord, it is very hard and it is not right that you should not believe me. I knew the man well: I saw the man dead in his coffin. My lord, the man was my client." "Good G—d, sir! why didn't you tell me that sooner? I should not have doubted the fact one moment; for I think nothing can be so likely to kill a man as to have you for his