at which the gentleman laughed very heartily.” I, of course, had no choice but to laugh also, although the wit ran a little too slow for me; but my laugh was taken with more cordiality than I had grace to give it with, and that was a signal for more of the same kind, of which I may mention a specimen or two. A case was argued one day before Lord Braxfield, in which the counsel had rather exposed a position which that hasty judge had laid down a few days previous; and his lordship was so much irritated, that he snatched up a ruler, and brandished it at the counsel, as much as to say, “if I had you out of court, I would cudgel you.” “What does he mean by that?” said an English barrister who happened to be present. “He is doing that which you must have done often,” said Erskine, “he is _taking a rule to show cause_.” “Why that is rather a novel rule to take in a court of justice,” said the Englishman. “Not at all,” replied Erskine, “it is merely a rule _nisi_.” One of the latest of Erskine’s witticisms that were repeated to me was that of the two Macnabs, father and son,--the first of whom was chief of that sept of the Celts, and the other the author of a system of the universe, too sublime even for Athenian comprehension. The chief was the most patriarchal as well as the most powerful man of his day, and the number of his sons and daughters rivalled that of some of the illustrious patriarchs of olden time. Harry Erskine said, that “these two Macnabs were the two greatest men that ever had lived, for the one could make a world, and the other could people it.” Another saying of his was very often repeated to me, but I confess I never could see the point of it. A Tory lawyer, of feeble body and feebler mind, was elevated to the bench, and the Athenians supposed that a Whig, remarkable alike for his talents and the slowness of his motions, had been improperly overlooked, while the little Tory was promoted. It was remarked to Erskine, that they “had put the cart before the horse.” “No,” said Harry, “they have not done that, they have only put the ass before the elephant.” Another time, when a client was hesitating into which of the hands of two writers to the signet he should throw himself, somebody said, he was like the ass between the two bundles of hay. “No,” said Erskine, “he is like the bundle of hay between the two asses; for, whichever way he goes, he will be eaten up.” This species of pun is mostly confined to Whigs, or gentlemen who have some pretensions to literature or taste; and in as far as intellectuality can be predicated of such matters, it may be called the _pun intellectual_. From Harry Erskine, the intellectual pun of the Athenian barristers does not appear to have descended full and entire to any one individual. A small piece fell to the share of George Cranstoun; but he is too independent for using it, and therefore he is said to have laid it out at interest for the benefit of the next generation.