It was the same judge, we believe, between whom and Mr. Curran the following pass of wit once took place at table.  “Pray, Mr. Curran,” said the judge, “is that hung beef beside you?  If it is, I will try it.”  “If you try it, my lord,” replied Mr. Curran, “it is sure to be hung.”

Keep to the Point.—­Lord Tenterden contracted such an inveterate habit of keeping himself and everybody else to the precise matter in hand, that once, during a circuit dinner, having asked a country magistrate if he would take venison, and receiving what he deemed an evasive reply, “Thank you, my lord, I am going to take boiled chicken,” his lordship sharply retorted, “That, sir, is no answer to my question; I ask you again if you will take venison, and I will trouble you to say yes or no, without further prevarication.”

Longs and Shorts.—­There were two barristers at the Irish bar who formed a singular contrast in their statures.  Ninian Mahaffy, Esq., was as much above the middle size as Mr. Collis was below it.  When Lord Redesdale was Lord Chancellor of Ireland, these two gentlemen chanced to be retained in the same cause, a short time after his lordship’s elevation, and before he was personally acquainted with the Irish bar.  Mr. Collis was opening the motion, when the lord chancellor observed, “Mr. Collis, when a barrister addresses the court, he must stand.”  “I am standing on the bench, my lord,” said Collis.  “I beg a thousand pardons,” said his lordship, somewhat confused.  “Sit down, Mr. Mahaffy.”  “I am sitting, my lord,” was the reply to the confounded chancellor.

The Scotch bar had once to boast in Mr. Erskine, of Cardross, of a pleader quite as diminutive as Mr. Collis.  He had usually a stool brought to him to stand upon when addressing the court, which gave occasion for a witty rival once to observe, that “that was one way of rising at the bar.”

Lord Kaimes used to relate a story of a man who claimed the honour of his acquaintance on rather singular grounds.  His lordship, when one of the justiciary judges, returning from the north circuit to Perth, happened one night to sleep at Dunkeld.  The next morning, walking towards the ferry, but apprehending he had missed his way, he asked a man whom he met to conduct him.  The other answered, with much cordiality, “That I will do with all my heart, my lord.  Does not your lordship remember me?  My name’s John ——­, I have had the honour to be before your lordship for stealing sheep!” “Oh, John!  I remember you well; and how is your wife?  She had the honour to be before me too, for receiving them, knowing them to be stolen.”  “At your lordship’s service.  We were very lucky; we got off for want of evidence; and I am still going on in the butcher trade.”  “Then,” replied his lordship, “we may have the honour of meeting again.”