id_ that when this same judge passed
sentence of death on Robert Emmett, he paused when he came to the point
where it is usual for a judge to add in conclusion, "And may the Lord
have mercy on your soul!" and regarded the brave young man with
searching eyes. For a minute there was an awful silence in the court;
the bar and the assembled crowd supposing that the Chief Justice had
paused so that a few seconds of unbroken stillness might add to the
solemnity of his last words. The disgust and indignation of the
spectators were beyond the power of language, when they saw a smile of
brutal sarcasm steal over the face of the Chief Justice as he rose from
his seat of judgment without uttering another word.

Whilst the state prosecutions were going forward, Lord Norbury appeared
on the bench in a costume that accorded ill with the gravity of his
office. The weather was intensely hot; and whilst he was at his morning
toilet the Chief Justice selected from his wardrobe the dress which was
most suited to the sultriness of the air. The garb thus selected for its
coolness was a dress which his lordship had worn at a masquerade ball,
and consisted of a green tabinet coat decorated with huge
mother-of-pearl buttons, a waistcoat of yellow relieved by black
stripes, and buff breeches. When he first entered the court, and
throughout all the earlier part of the proceedings against a party of
rebels, his judicial robes altogether concealed this grotesque attire;
but unfortunately towards the close of the sultry day's work, Lord
Norbury--oppressed by the stifling atmosphere of the court, and
forgetting all about the levity as well as the lightness of his inner
raiment--threw back his judicial robe and displayed the dress which
several persons then present had seen him wear at Lady Castlereagh's
ball. Ere the spectators recovered from their first surprise, Lord
Norbury, quite unconscious of his indecorum, had begun to pass sentence
of death on a gang of prisoners, speaking to them in a solemn voice that
contrasted painfully with the inappropriateness of his costume.

In the following bright and picturesque sentence, Dr. Dibdin gives a
life-like portrait of Erskine, whose personal vanity was only equalled
by the egotism which often gave piquancy to his orations, and never
lessened their effect:--"Cocked hats and ruffles, with satin
small-clothes and silk stockings, at this time constituted the usual
evening dress. Erskine, though a good deal