inveighing against the levity and indecorum of a learned brother who had maintained in conversation that "no man would be such a----fool as to go to a lawyer for advice who knew how to get on without it." The monstrous offender against religion and propriety who gave utterance to this execrable sentiment was Pepper Arden (subsequently Master of the Rolls and Lord Alvanley), and his punishment is thus recorded in the archives of the circuit:--"In this he was considered as doubly culpable, in the first place as having offended, against the laws of Almighty God by his profane cursing; for which, however, he made a very sufficient atonement by paying a bottle of claret; and secondly, as having made use of an expression which, if it should become a prevailing opinion, might have the most alarming consequences to the profession, and was therefore deservedly considered in a far more hideous light. For the last offence he was fin'd 3 bottles. Pd." One of the most ridiculous circumstances over which the Northern Circuit men of the last generation delighted to laugh occurred at Newcastle, when Baron Graham--the poor lawyer, but a singularly amiable and placid man, of whom Jeckyll observed, "no one but his sempstress could ruffle him"--rode the circuit, and was immortalized as 'My Lord 'Size,' in Mr. John Shield's capital song-- "The jailor, for trial had brought up a thief, Whose looks seemed a passport for Botany Bay; The lawyers, some with and some wanting a brief, Around the green table were seated so gay; Grave jurors and witnesses waiting a call; Attorneys and clients, more angry than wise; With strangers and town-people, throng'd the Guildhall, All watching and gaping to see my Lord 'Size. "Oft stretch'd were their necks, oft erected their ears, Still fancying they heard of the trumpets the sound, When tidings arriv'd, which dissolv'd them in tears, That my lord at the dead-house was then lying drown'd. Straight left _tete-a-tete_ were the jailor and thief; The horror-struck crowd to the dead-house quick hies; Ev'n the lawyers, forgetful of fee and of brief, Set off helter-skelter to view my Lord 'Size. "And now the Sandhill with the sad tidings rings, And the tubs of the taties are left to take care; Fishwomen desert their crabs, lobsters, and lings, And each to the dead-house now runs like a hare; The glassmen, some naked, some clad, heard the news, And off they ran, smoking like hot mutton pies; Whilst Castle Garth tailors, like wild kangaroos, Came tail-on-end jumping to see my Lord 'Size.