ently referred to him as "this soldier." The
witness, who was in Court, bore this for a time, but at last,
exasperated, exclaimed, "I am not a soldier, I'm an officer!"--"Well,
gentlemen of the jury," proceeded Jeffrey, "this officer, who on his own
statement is no soldier," &c.

Patrick, Lord Robertson, one of the senators of the College of Justice,
was a great humorist. He was on terms of intimacy with the late Mr.
Alexander Douglas, W.S., who, on account of the untidiness of his
person, was known by the sobriquet of "Dirty Douglas." Lord Robertson
invited his friend to accompany him to a ball. "I would go," said Mr.
Douglas, "but I don't care about my friends knowing that I attend
balls."--"Why, Douglas," replied the senator, "put on a well-brushed
coat and a clean shirt, and nobody will know you." When at the Bar,
Robertson was frequently entrusted with cases by Mr. Douglas. Handing
his learned friend a fee in Scottish notes, Mr. Douglas remarked: "These
notes, Robertson, are, like myself, getting old."--"Yes, they're both
old and dirty, Douglas," rejoined Robertson.

When Robertson was attending an appeal case in the House of Lords he
received great attention from Lord Brougham. This gave rise to a report
in the Parliament House of Edinburgh that the popular Tory advocate had
"ratted" to the Liberal side in politics, which found expression in the
following _jeu d'esprit_:

"When Brougham by Robertson was told
He'd condescend a place to hold,
The Chancellor said, with wondering eyes,
Viewing the _Rat's_ tremendous size,
'That you a place would hold is true,
But where's the place that would hold you?'"

Lord Rutherford when at the Bar put an illustration to the Bench in
connection with a church case. "Suppose the Justiciary Court condemned a
man to be hanged, however unjustly, could that man come into this Court
of Session and ask your lordships to interfere?" and he turned round
very majestically to Robertson opposing him. "Oh, my lords," said
Robertson, "a case of suspension, clearly."

When a sheriff, Rutherford, dining with a number of members of the legal
profession, had to reply to the toast, "The Bench of Scotland." In
illustration of a trite remark that all litigants could not be expected
to have the highest regard for the judges who have tried their cases, he
told the following story: A worthy but unfortunate south-country farmer
had fought his case in the teeth of adverse deci