every species of art should be employed to entangle the opinions of the people, which in other countries would be inevitable destruction;—yet in England, in enlightened England, all this will not pluck a hair from the head of innocence; -the jury will still look steadfastly to the law, as the great polar star, to direct them in their course:-as prudent men they will set no example of disorder, nor pronounce a verdict of censure on authority, or of approbation or disapprobation beyond their judicial province;-but, on the other hand, they will make no political sacrifice, but deliver a plain, honest man from the toils of injustice. When your verdict is pronounced, this will be the judgment of the world;and if any amongst ourselves are alienated in their affections to government, nothing will be so likely to reclaim them:-they will say,-Whatever we have lost of our control in Parliament, we have yet a sheetanchor remaining to hold the vessel of the State amidst contending storms:-we have still, thank God, a sound administration of justice secured to us, in the independence of the Judges, in the rights of enlightened juries, and in the integrity of the Bar;-ready at all times, and upon every possible occasion, whatever may be the consequences to themselves, to stand forward in defense of the meanest man in England, when brought for judgment before the laws of the country."

The trial of Lord George Gordon presents another one of Erskine's efforts expounding the law of treason. There is a remarkable instance in his argument in this case where a burst of oratory was effective and impressive. It exploded at the psychological moment when every environment was perfect and ideal. Reaching a superb climax, he exclaimed: "By God, that man is a ruffian who shall after this presume to build upon such honest, artless conduct as an evidence of guilt." One of his critics says of this: "Mr. Erskine's tone was one of deep reverence, without the slightest approach toward the profane use of the words, but giving them all the solemnity of a judicial oath. The magic of his eye, gesture, and countenance beaming with emotion, completed the impression and made it irresistible. It was a thing which no man could do but once in his life. Mr. Erskine attempted it once in the House of Commons, and utterly failed."

This speech also contains a splendid exposition of the fundamental rights of the subject in relation to government. For sentimental oratory and passionate appeal his

speech in behalf of Bingham, in the opinion of the writer, surpasses all of his efforts. For masterly argument upon facts, and for presentation of law to juries, his efforts in behalf of Hardy, Stockdale and Gordon are unsurpassed examples. These 'should be thoroughly perused and studied in their entirety by every lawyer in nisi prius practice. As an example of effective and exhaustive presentation of law to the court his argument in behalf of the Dean of St. Asaph stands out preeminent and supreme.

Erskine did much toward maintaining the dignity and independence of the bar, winning for it a position of equality with the bench. He rightly considered the bar as much a part of the judicial machinery as the bench, and entitled to as much respect and consideration from the bench as should be accorded the bench by the bar. In the case referred to, (the Dean of St. Asaph), when Erskine sought to protest against what he deemed the illegal action of the trial judge in attempting to force a certain form of verdict from the jury, he was peremtorily ordered to sit down. "Sit down, Sir," remarked his Lordship. "Remember your duty, or I shall be obliged to proceed in another manner." To which Erskine replied in defiant, but respectful tones: "Your Lordship may proceed in what manner you think fit. I know my duty as well as your Lordship knows yours. I shall not alter my conduct."

In his defense of Thomas Paine he very aptly portrays the duty of a lawyer to his client and society. Says he:

"I will forever, at all hazards, assert the dignity, independence, and integrity of the English bar, without which impartial justice, the most valuable part of the English Constitution, can have no existence.

"From the moment that any advocate can be permitted to say that he will or will not stand between the Crown and the subject arraigned in the court where he daily sits to practice, from that moment the liberties of England are at an end.

"If the advocate refuses to defend, from what he may think of the charge or of the defense, he assumes the character of the judge; nay, he assumes it before the hour of judgment; and, in proportion to his rank and reputation, puts the heavy influence of, perhaps, a mistaken opinion

into the scale against the accused, in whose favor the benevolent principle of English law makes all presumptions, and which commands the very judge to be his counsel."

Erskine had an idea that he was a writer. He sought to eclipse the "New Atlantis" and the "Utopia," and composed a political work called "Armata." This work has no particular value; but one striking passage therefrom will be given. His fictitious traveler, returning from the land of Armata describes its government, saying: "There is a talisman in Armata, which, while it is preserved inviolate, will make her immortal: 'Her courts of justice speak aloud to her Parliament: Thus far shalt thou go, and no further.'" How familiar does this sound to the American lawyer trained in our peculiar constitutional system! It shows Erskine's lawyer-like mind, and his devotion to the principles of liberty and constitutional government.

After a most spectacular career at the bar Erskine was elevated to the woolsack and became Lord Chancellor. He was not a profound jurist, and made no great reputation as a judge. His forte was that of an advocate. His decisions may be found in the Vesey, Junior, Reports.

As great and remarkable as he was as a lawyer he could not possess all the talents allotted to the legal profession. Nature did not permit him to excel as a judge, but only as an advocate. Excellence in both capacities is a combination rarely found. Acting in a quasi-judicial capacity in the House of Lords in the trial of Queen Anne, consort of the King, who was prosecuted by her lord for infidelity, Erskine, yielding to his sense of justice and indignity at the manner in which the unfortunate woman was being hurried to conviction against the law, abandoned that calm deliberation of the judge for the impressive effulgence of the 'advocate, and hurled defiance at the very Throne itself, where sat King George IV, Erskine's personal friend and erstwhile companion as the Prince of Wales, as the personal prosecutor of his Queen. When she stood helpless

and defenseless against all the power of the Throne, and the intrigues of courtiers and flatterers, one voice came to her rescue and invoked for her protection the benign influence of the laws of England. It was the voice of Erskine, ringing out in clarion tones, in behalf of a woman weak and defenseless in an alien land. This majestic old man, in the sunset of life, with a record unscarred, and with the consciousness of duty well performed behind him, remained true to the ideals of a lifetime, and crowned a noble career with one mighty effort in behalf of the Constitution and the laws of his country. He presented a magnificent spectacle when, in the Upper Chamber of Parliament, he braved the minions of power, and bade defiance to the Throne itself in its very sanctuary. This was his last appearance in public, and it found him still standing on the threshold of liberty, beating back the advances of tyranny. Hear him on this

occasion:

"If I were in the Queen's situation, and I were convicted of adultery by your Lordships on such evidence as this, I would cast your decision in your face, and appeal to the other House of Parliament-to the representatives of the people. The House of Commons cannot pass the bill against their own convictions, and against the national nolle prosequi which resounds from every quarter of the Island. . . . To the King, who cannot be an indifferent spectator of this proceeding, I have many, many obligations, from the warm interest formerly taken by his Majesty in my advancement and credit, and from my belief that I am still held by him in the same personal regard-though political changes have removed me to a greater distance from his person. If his Majesty should ever be exposed to any injurious treatment, I should be ready to protect him at the peril of my life. I would contribute to his happiness by every sacrifice but that of my duty. My principles I never have deserted, and never will desert."

Continuing, after the proceedings against the Queen had

failed:

"I see the fate of this odious measure consummated, and I heartily rejoice at the event. My Lords, I am an old man, and my life, whether it has been for good or for evil, has been passed under the sacred rule of the law. In this moment I feel my strength renovated by that rule being restored. The accursed charge wherewithal we have been menaced has

passed over our heads. There is an end of that horrid and portentous excrescence of a new law-retrospective, oppressive and iniquitous. Our Constitution is once more safe. My heart is too full of the escape we have just experienced to let me do more than try to express my sense of the blessings which we have regained;-but I cannot praise them adequately myself, and I therefore prefer the language of one of the most eloquent writers of any age-Hooker-in his great work on Ecclesiastical Polity: 'Of Law, there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom of God; her voice, the harmony of the world; all things in Heaven and in Earth do her homage,-the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power:-both angels and men, and creatures of what condition soever,-though each in different sort and manner, yet all with uniform concert, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy.'"

No one can raise his head to look beyond the horizon without becoming a target. So Erskine, like all men of talent and ambition, had his detractors. Inferior men, jealous of his achievements and accomplishments, were wont to magnify his faults and to defame and disparage him. Lord Kenyon once replied to some criticisms of him that, even "if true, they were only spots on the sun"; that Erskine's "nonsense would set up half a dozen of such men as run him down."

Erskine was a great wit, and indulged in many sallies and anecdotes. On one occasion, after he had become Lord Chancellor, he was working in his garden. To a friend who came upon him he remarked: "Here I am enjoying my 'otium cum diggin a taity.'" "I am of the opinion," he once remarked, "that this action will not lie unless the witnesses do." A most refreshing and exhilarating specimen of his wit is told concerning an action against a stablekeeper for neglect to properly care for a horse. Plaintiff's attorney, becoming facetious in his argument, remarked that the horse, when confronted with stale and musty hay, "demurred;" to which Erskine flashed back the retort: "He should have gone to the country." Once when about to be endowed with some insignia of knighthood a friend inquired if he expected to have the garter; to which he replied: "You seem to suppose that, having been