mentor, "yer see, it as like this—we met the sodgers on the bridge, and one of 'em says to me 'Good mornin'.' 'Good mornin', yer '"; but before the specimen of ap palling vernacular that followed was well ar ticulated, Mr. Justice Byles had fled precip itately from the Bench, with, no doubt, a mental resolution never again to invite a witness of the navigating order "to tell his story in his own way." I remember hearing a leather-lunged gen tleman bawling legal platitudes to old ViceChancellor Bacon, who, after sitting passive for some time in a state of ill-concealed irritability, gave utterance in quavering tones to the following pungent remonsstrance: I am, of course, aware, Mr. Soand-so, that it is my duty to hear you, but I venture to remind you that there is such a quality as mer-r-cy!" One of the greatest Equity judges of the last half century was the late Sir George Jessel, the first, and, so far, the only Jew who has been raised to the English Bench. Jessel's appointment was received with a certain amount of misgiving, not on account of his attainments, which were unexception able, but by reason of an undesirable audac ity which had occasionally marked his conduct of cases at the Bar. There is no doubt that at a pinch in order to score a point he was not above "improving" the actual text of the Report which he purported to be quoting, and I well remember this practice producing quite a dramatic little scene, when, having sprung upon a particularly painstaking op ponent some case which apparently demol ished the latter's argument, that learned gentleman with an almost apoplectic gasp requested that the volume might be passed to him. The result of his perusal was more satisfactory to himself than it was to Jessel, who, however, treated the matter as a mere "trifle," not worth fussing about, and calmly restarted his argument on a new tack! In this undesirable habit he resembled an emi nent predecessor, who on investing some obsolete case on which he was relying with a complexion peculiarly favorable to his ar

guments but quite new to the presiding judge, the latter quietly asked him to hand up his volume of Reports. After a moment's examination the judge handed the volume back with the scathing rebuke: "As I thought, Mr. , my memory of thirty years is more accurate than your quotation." A Chancery Court is not, as a rule, a very amusing resort, but Vice-Chancellor Mains was always able to command a fair ly "good house," as he might gen erally be counted on to show a certain amount of sport under the stimu lating attacks of Mr. Glasse and his Hibern ian rival, Mr. Napier Higgins. Mr. Glasse, whose countenance recalled that of a vicious old pointer, when not engaged in bandying epithets with Mr. Higgins, applied himself only too successfully to developing the un happy Vice-Chancellor's propensities for making himself ridiculous. Sir Richard, an amiable, loquacious old gentleman who had bored and buttonholed his parliamentary chiefs into giving him a judgeship, was cer tainly an easy prey for a bullying counsel. In external aspect dignified enough, he was afflicted with a habit of conversational ir relevancy which might have supplied a mas ter-subject for the pen of Charles Dickens. While Higgins roared him down like a floundering bull, Glasse plied the even more discomfiting weapons of calculated contempt and impertinence. The following is a sample of scenes which were then of almost daily occurrence in Sir Richard's court. "That reminds me," the judge would oracularly interpose, fixing his eyeglass and glancing round the court,— "That reminds me of a point I once raised in the House of Commons " "Really, my lord," Mr. Glasse would brusquely interrupt with a withering sneer, "we have not come here to listen to your Lordship's parliamentary experiences." Whereat with an uneasy flush the ViceChancellor would mutteringly resume atten tion. On one occasion I recollect Mr. Glasse so far forgetting himself as to ex claim audibly, in response to some sudden