ve ever conscientiously
endeavoured in all things to do my duty.
And now, as I lay down my pen, dreamily thinking over old names, old
friends, and old faces of bygone years, I live my life over again.
Everything passes like a picturesque vision before my eyes. I can see
the old coach which brought me from my home--a distance of thirty
miles in eight hours--a rapid journey in those days. This was old
Kirshaw's swift procedure. Then there was the "Bedford Times" I
travelled with, which was Whitehead's fire-engine kind of motor; but
generally in that district John Crowe was the celebrated whip.
Then passes before me the old Cock that crew over the doorway in Fleet
Street, a Johnsonian tavern of mighty lineage and celebrity for chops
and steaks. And I see the old waiter, with his huge pockets behind, in
which he deposited the tons of copper tips from the numberless diners
whom he attended to during his long career.
Then I observe the Rainbow, by no means such a celebrity, although
more brilliant than the Mitre by its side; and in the Mitre I see (but
only in imagination) Johnson and Goldsmith talking over the quaint
philosophy of wine and letters till three o'clock in the morning,
finishing their three or four bottles of port, and wondering why they
were a little seedy the next day.
And there sits at my side, enjoying his chop, Tom Firr, described as
the king of huntsmen--a true and honest sportsman, simple, respectful,
and respected, whose name I will not omit from my list of celebrities,
for he is as worthy of a place in my reminiscences as any M.F.H. you
could meet.
CHAPTER L.
SENTENCES.
There is no part of a Judge's duty which is more important or
more difficult than apportioning the punishment to the particular
circumstances of a conviction. As an illustration of this statement I
would take the offence of bigamy, where in the one case the convicted
person would deserve a severe sentence of imprisonment, while in
another case he or she might be set at liberty without any punishment
at all. Such cases have occurred before me.
The sentence of another Judge upon another prisoner ought not to be
followed, for each prisoner should be punished for nothing but the
particular crime which he has committed. For this reason the case of
each individual should be considered by itself.
I dislike, also, the practice of passing a severe sentence for a
trifling offence merely because it has been a common hab
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