Braxfield was the last of our judges who rigidly adhered to the old “braid Scots.” “Hae ye ony counsel, man?” said he to Margarot, when placed at the bar, “Dae ye want tae hae ony appintit?” “No,” replied Margarot; “I only want an interpreter to make me understand what your Lordship says!” “Strong built and dark, with rough eyebrows, powerful eyes, threatening lips, and a low, growling voice, he was like a formidable blacksmith. His accent and his dialect were exaggerated Scotch; his language, like his thoughts, short, strong, and conclusive” (Cockburn, “Memorials of his Time,” 1856, p. 113). “Despising the growing improvement of manners, he shocked the feelings even of an age which, with more of the formality, had far less of the substance of decorum than our own. Thousands of his sayings have been preserved, and the staple of them is indecency, which he succeeded in making many people enjoy, or at least, endure, by hearty laughter, energy of manner, and rough humour” (_ib._ p. 114). He domineered over the prisoners, the counsel, and his colleagues alike. Devoid of even a pretence to judicial decorum, he delighted while on the bench in the broadest jests and the most insulting taunts, “over which he would chuckle the more from observing that correct people were shocked. Yet this was not from cruelty, for which he was too strong and too jovial, but from cherished coarseness” (_ib._ pp. 115-116). Gerald, at his trial, ventured to say that Christianity was an innovation, and that all great men had been reformers, “even our Saviour Himself.” “Muckle He made o’ that,” chuckled Braxfield; “He was hangit” (_ib._ p. 117). On another occasion he remarked to an eloquent culprit at the bar, “Ye’re a vera clever chiel, man, but ye wad be nane the waur o’ a hangin’” (Lockhart’s “Life of Scott,” 1845, p. 425). Of Braxfield’s grim humour in its unprofessional aspect but a few samples are now tolerable. Among these, however, is the following:--When a butler gave up his place because his mistress was always scolding him, “Lord!” exclaimed his master, “ye’ve little tae complain o’; be thankfu’ ye’re no marriet till her.” “Out of the bar or off the bench,” says Stevenson, “he was a convivial man, a lover of wine, and one who shone peculiarly at tavern meetings.” When Lord Newton, then Charles Hay, was one morning pleading before him, after a night of hard drinking--the opposing counsel being in the like case--Braxfield observed, “Gentlemen, ye maun just pack up yer papers and gang hame; the tane o’ ye’s riftin’ punch and the ither’s belchin’ claret; there’ll be nae guid got oot o ye the day!” (“Kay’s Portraits,” 1877, vol. i., p. 169).