appearance on the bench I should little have anticipated that he would have become the decided, somewhat peremptory, and awful judge that he now is. If he had been a political lawyer he might have become Lord Chancellor; but he never took the political road to the highest judicial offices. That great mixed career belonged to Sir Alexander Cockburn. I may here observe that the intellectual-looking judge, immediately to the left, is Mr. Justice Mellor, a meritorious example of what energetic and cultivated dissent can accomplish. Sir Alexander -he is baronet in his own right as well as knight by the Queen'smight once or twice have been Lord Chancellor, and might, as they say, be any day a peer. He may almost be defined as belonging to that remarkable species of politicians the 'single-speech' orators, whose solitary speeches in the House of Commons have made themselves material for legend and tradition. 'Single-speech Hamilton' was the greatest example of the class; but though Sir Alexander was always a good debater, it was one especial speech which made his fame. It was that great occasion in which a vote censuring Lord Palmerston was moved in the House of Commons, and in which the Peelites combining with the Protectionists, it seemed possible that there might be a reconstruction of the Conservative party, and that the Liberals might be driven out of office. I have never seen anywhere in the 'Times,' not even after the best speeches of the best men, stronger language indicative of enthusiastic applause and the immense impression created, than the short paragraph at the conclusion of the speech describing the effects produced. That speech made Mr. Cockburn Solicitor-General, and in due course Mr. Attorney and Lord Chief Justice of England. It has a certain historical importance inasmuch as it elicited a powerful reply from Sir Robert Peel, whom the daring lawyer had charged with conspiracy, a speech which was Sir Robert's last, for not many hours afterwards he received the accident

which caused his death. As Attorney-General and member for Southampton Sir Alexander confessed that he was in the position which he liked best, and had nothing further to desire. But great men must 'go up' when the great vacancies fall in, if only that the men who press hard upon their heels may plant themselves on another ascending rung of the ladder of fortune. He makes a great common-law judge, and he and his bar are always on the happiest terms. It is perhaps to be regretted that our greatest judicial offices are, after all, political prizes, which sometimes fall to men who are simply the luckiest; but, as a rule, the public has exceedingly little to complain of. The Queen's Bench Court is an exceedingly strong one. It is the best men, and the best men alone, who, as a rule, get our judgeships, which are not too highly paid, especially when weighted with the expense of going circuit. I hear, by the way, heavy complaints about the judges' port at the circuit dinners, which their servants take round with them, and which gets considerably muddled by the time they come to the last assize town. This is the more to be regretted, as the judges generally preserve a stately silence which occasions such defects being keenly noticed. Sometimes in our legal history it happens that there is a strong run upon some particular court this was once notably the case with the Exchequer Chamberbut now all the courts are admirably manned, and justice, as the American said, is an article which the Britishers sell dear, but they sell it prime.

Mr. Attorney-General Collier prays judgment on the particular defendants whom he had the honour of convicting. He has, more than once, refused a puisne judgeship, and the next chiefship which falls vacant will be his by the rights of political etiquette. He hardly ranks as a great lawyer, but he can conduct a case very fairly. His prosecution, when Solicitor-General, of Muller the murderer was remarkably well done, and he has gained the ear of the House of Commons,

Sir

and he certainly possesses good debating powers, and he is moreover a very accomplished man. He exhibits a picture this year at the Royal Academy, and not for the first time. Then the SolicitorGeneral 'prays judgment' against the defendants whom he has convicted. This praying judgment' has an almost bloodthirsty sound, especially when we recollect all the horrible things which 'praying judgment' once indicated in the old state trials. I have heard the Solicitor-General likened to a game cock with his spurs up, and the more hopeless and undeserving the case the more conspicuous is his gallantry and the better he fights. He perhaps proceeds rather gingerly in cases of very plain sailing. John Duke Coleridge is a political lawyer. His first speech quite took the House by surprise, and with considerable variations he has maintained a good position there. He has attempted something in legislation; in his time he has lectured, written in magazines, attempted something in theology, and so altogether he is something much more than a lawyer pure and simple. The counsel one place removed from him is Sir John Karslake, to whom he was constantly opposed on the Western circuit, and whom he defeated at the last election for the 'ever faithful' city of Exeter. 'With him,' as the lawyers say, is Mr. Lopes. All these lawyers are western-circuit men, and the Western circuit has always shown extremely well in point of barristerial ability. When the 'judgment prayed for' is to come off a curious point arises. One of the defendants, Dr. Kinglake, exhibits affidavits which satisfy Sir Robert Collier that he is too dangerously ill of heart disease to be able to appear. Everybody is sorry for Dr. Kinglake. He is a man of high character, besides possessing the reflected glory of his brother's literary achievements. He possessed a much keener sense of the evil of bribery than is recognised by the ordinary Bridgewater conscience, for almost as soon as he had drawn the money he repents and tears up the cheque. I remem

ber a great deal of contempt being poured upon Lord Lytton because the critics erroneously supposed that he had erroneously supposed that a criminal could be sentenced in his absence. The AttorneyGeneral argued that the judges could do so in the case of Dr. Kinglake, and cited some cases that seemed to have a bearing in that direction. The Chief Justice, however, significantly inquired whether, supposing the court passed a sentence of imprisonment, that sentence would run from the time of its passing or from the time of the culprit surrendering to undergo the penalty. In the result the Chief Justice gave some sort of sanction to the principle indicated by the AttorneyGeneral, and in the absence of Dr. Kinglake inflicted a comparatively gentle fine, which satisfied the demands of justice, and also rehabilitated his character. We will hope that his severer medical symptoms will be mitigated by the favourable termination of the case.

We now look into the other courts. Instead of one court only holding a nisi prius sitting, by recent legislation you may have as many courts as may be conveniently carried on at the same time. Nothing is more extraordinary than the intense state of vivacity into which counsel may lash themselves on subjects which would seem to be almost incapable of the most moderate degree of enthusiasm. Take the case of a bill transaction or of a disputed wine account, and the amount of speechifying and the amount of energy expended seem ludicrously incongruous with the minor interests involved. The learned counsel argue as if for dear life.

When we enter the Common Pleas the court has adjourned for lunch. The judges are partaking of chops and sherry, it may be presumed, and in the democratised court there is a prevailing sensation of sandwiches. Then we adjourn to the Exchequer Chamber. Brave old Sir Fitzroy Kelly here nobly holds his own. The long exclusion of his party from political power for many years kept him from the legal promotion which was his due, and he

had almost ceased to practise in the courts when the retirement of Sir Frederick Pollock made him Chief Baron. And a most excellent Chief Baron he makes, a most deserved favourite with the profession and with the public. His great forensic triumphs are almost forgotten by the present generation; but no forensic triumphs were greater than those gained in their day by the three great Tory barristers of the Westminster courts, Pollock, Thesiger, and Kelly. We must just take a glance at the other barons. There is Baron Martin, son-in-law of Pollock, late L. C. B., a great authority on turf matters, who is often willing to do his circuit as a pedestrian in a pretty country. There is the redoubted Baron Bramwell, who, if we may use the expression, has a very strongly-marked individuality as a judge. By sheer stress of talent he forced his way from a stool in a bank to the ermine. The baron inspires a considerable amount of awe. He used to walk down to the Old Bailey during the trial of the garotters with a little dog behind him, and very exemplary sentences he passed upon the garotters. He, too, has a fine eye for scenery, and I believe at one assizes scandalised some good people by climbing a mountain instead of going to church. A very awkward man to deal with sometimes is the great Baron Bramwell. A case, something of this kind, once took place before him. A so-called gentleman was brought up on a charge of assaulting his wife. The counsel for the defendant endeavoured to put things in an amicable point of view. Since the unfortunate transaction in question the defendant and his wife had come to terms, and there was to be a separation, with a handsome allowance for the lady, provided, however, out of the lady's own fortune. The counsel for the prosecution was willing enough to adjust matters on this footing. But Baron Bramwell troubled the defendant to go into the dock, and when he had gone into the dock he troubled him to plead, and when he had pleaded guilty the Baron troubled him with a sentence of twelve months' impri

sonment with hard labour as a preliminary step to the adjustment of his family affairs. Next we see Baron Pigott. He is easily recognised, as his portrait is in the Academy this year. He takes a large interest in leading philanthropic questions, and I have noticed how well he exemplifies the theory that the judge is counsel for an undefended prisoner, when he takes all imaginable pains, apart from an advocate's rhetoric and artifice, in bringing out clearly all that can be said in answer to a criminal charge. Mr. Baron Channell is deservedly popular in the courts and in society. A more humane, tender-hearted, painstaking judge never existed. He is only too fair-minded, if such a thing be possible. The ordinary British jury, at least down in the provinces, stand in need of all the assistance which a judge can lend them. I once had an opportunity of hearing a juryman's opinion of Mr. Baron Channell. He is a deal too fair,' said the enlightened juryman. We were just like pigs in a poke, and did not know which way to turn.' Many judges almost make themselves advocates in their summing up; and looking at the ordinary ridiculous appearance presented by a British jury, it is just as well that this should be the case. This is not the plan, I think, which is pursued by Baron Channell. He follows the old approved plan of reading through his notes, and if there is no answer to the prosecution you must convict the prisoner, or if the plaintiff has not made out his case you must find a verdict for the defendant. Properly speaking, it is no part of a judge's duty to form a distinct opinion upon a case. Their office is to place both sides of a question impartially before the umpires, and perhaps this is best done by a colourless mind. Most judges, however, form very decided opinions in the course of a case, and some of them express their opinions very strongly. Lastly, we must mention Mr. Baron Cleasby, who in his university career maintained the best traditions of the academic honours taken by our eminent members of the bar. He unsuccessfully

contested the representation of the university of Cambridge against Mr. Beresford Hope, and when the Tories made him one of their three additional judges, his appointment, which has been abundantly vindicated, received the hearty applause of men of all shades of political opinion.

You

Charles Dickens somewhere speaks of that large variety of hair and whisker for which the British bar is so justly famous. The remark is curiously verified as you look around a crowded court. He might have added that there is also a distinct barristerial expression of countenance. The most intellectual conversation of the present day is probably to be found among members of the bar. I do not know if the Westminster Courts would present the highest type of this intellectual excellence; we should rather find it, I think, among members of the Equity Bar, or counsel who confine their practice to chambers. They are comparatively free from that forensic and adversative way of looking at matters which so often mars the advocate and the leader-writer. may, if you like, obtain a full and curious contrast, while Convocation is sitting in term-time, between parsons and lawyers. Go out of Palace Yard and get into Dean's Yard. Make your way to that famous room known as the Jerusalem Chamber. You will have little difficulty in obtaining admission by calling out a friend or by leaving a card. There you will find a number of blackcoated gentry arguing away, often with extreme force and eloquence, on matters where they have not the slightest practical power of giving effect, to their deliberations. Their functions are purely deliberative, and they must rest content with the indirect good obtained by free discussion. The clerical expression is, on the whole, benevolent, while the barristerial expression, generally speaking, is highly pugnacious. The cleric is appreciative, the barrister critical; the cleric looks wise even if he is not, the barrister is cynical; the cleric is credulous, the barrister is in a chronic state of dubiety. The best faces of the

gownsmen who flitted by me in the cloisters were not, perhaps, such clever faces as those of the gownsmen in the hall, but gave a greater idea of calmness, culture, and breadth. It is not inappropriate that I should step across from Westminster Hall to Westminster Abbey-as Macaulay touchingly says, 'the great temple of Silence and Reconciliation, which for so many generations has given a quiet resting-place to those whose minds and bodies have been shattered by the contentions of the great hall.' I wanted also to observe the effect of the new regulations of Dean Stanley and the Chapter in flinging open the Abbey and the chapels to all comers every Monday. The edifice was very full. Crowds were looking on the chair of coronation and walking about beneath the worn banners in the chapel of Henry the Seventh. I found a little crowd of poor people gazing upon the quaint monument erected by Charles the Second in memory of the Princes murdered in the Tower. I volunteered to translate the inscription; and the silence first, and the thanks afterwards testified how strongly one of the most touching incidents of our history has taken hold of the popular imagination. And so, as old Pepys would say, gaily home to my rooms.

MR. DICKENS AND CHAUNCY HARE
TOWNSHEND.

Amid the national outburst of sorrow for the great common loss to humanity in the death of Charles Dickens, everything in the way of anecdote, memoir, and literature has been ransacked that could contribute a fact or an idea to the illustration of the character of England's greatest novelist. Mr. George A. Sala has even already, so early, published a life' of some sort or other, in which he announces that he (we mean the great Sala) has written some three thousand articles for the Daily Telegraph'-a portentous fact. The human mind is well-nigh baffled in the contemplation of that ocean of rhetorical twaddle. It is a sad thought that, humanly speaking, had Mr. Dickens worked less hard, and accumulated less money,

he might have been spared many years, and have to give us some of his best thoughts. They might have wanted something of the vivacity and genius of his early days; but so great a mind would have given us something worthy of the vast experience of its ripe maturity. There seems to have been no decline in his intellectual powers. His latest complete work, 'Our Mutual Friend,' would favourably compare with most of the works in that long and most familiar series. In intellectual matters his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated.' In the domain of fiction he was the master-spirit of the age. Other poets might trench on the preeminence of Mr. Tennyson; but no living novelist could trench upon the pre-eminence of Mr. Dickens. In all questions of philanthropy, of social science, of broad, general politics, of mixed human interests, we would willingly concede any place which his admirers might claim for him; and we believe that much ungenerous injustice has been done to him by those who have cynically regarded his claims in this respect. At the same time we think that some of the language used by Bishop Frazer, Dean Stanley, and Mr. Jowett, had better have been left unsaid. Literature could hardly say too much for Mr. Dickens, but he could not be appropriately discussed in the pulpit, for there could hardly be a man who had less affinity for it. Not that all his instincts were not of a most generous kind, and he probably possessed deep religious feelings; but we could cull from his works, save that we decline the ungracious task, passages of sheer astonishing ignorance on religious matters. We believe that he himself would, on this ground, have chosen the silence which is golden.

Nevertheless, there is a religious work associated with the name of Mr. Dickens that has been quite overlooked, so far as we are aware, by those who have been endeavouring, in their different ways, to do justice to his memory. Last year a book made its appearance entitled 'Religions Opinions of the late Reverend Chauncy Hare Townshend.

Published, as directed in his Will, by his Literary Executor.' The work is, strictly speaking, a philosophical and theological work, the philosophical element being inferior to the theological. It has received some amount of circulation; but it is probably the last book with which we should expect his name to be associated. But in the preface we find the following extract from the will: 'I appoint my friend Charles Dickens, of Gadshill Place, in the county of Kent, Esquire, my literary executor, and beg of him to publish, without alteration, as much of my notes and reflections as may make known my opinions on religious matters, they being such as I verily believe would be conducive to the happiness of mankind.' Mr. Dickens proceeds: 'In pursuance of the foregoing injunction the Literary Executor so appointed (not previously aware that the publication of any religious opinions would be enjoined upon him) applied himself to the examination of the numerous papers left by his deceased friend.

.. Finding everywhere internal evidence that Mr. Townshend's religious opinions had been constantly meditated and reconsidered, with great pains and sincerity, throughout his life, the Literary Executor carefully compiled them (always in the writer's exact words), and endeavoured, in piecing them together, to avoid needless repetition.'

Some time ago I spent a little time in examining the MSS., so jealously guarded, of Pascal's

Thoughts, preserved in the Bibliothèque Impériale. They consisted of innumerable jottings on scattered bits of paper, some carefully written, and others dashed off on the moment. In some such state Mr. Dickens found the 'Religious Opinions,' 'scattered up and down through a variety of memoranda or note books, the gradual accumulations of year upon year.' Mr. Townshend was an eminently amiable and generous man. With much error, there is much worth and originality in his Opinions.' Still he was no Pascal; and 'the happiness of mankind' will hardly be affected by the publication. His