treaty towards British juries were always cased in lemon-colored kid
gloves.

Erskine was not more noticeable for the foppishness of his dress than
was Lord Kenyon for a sordid attire. Whilst he was a leading advocate
within the bar, Lord Kenyon's ordinary costume would have disgraced a
copying clerk; and during his later years, it was a question amongst
barristers whether his breeches were made of velvet or leather. The wits
maintained that when he kissed hands upon his elevation to the
Attorney's place, he went to court in a second-hand suit purchased from
Lord Stormont's _valet_. In the letter attributed to him by a clever
writer in the 'Rolliad,' he is made to say--"My income has been cruelly
estimated at seven, or, as some will have it, eight thousand pounds per
annum. I shall save myself the mortification of denying that I am rich,
and refer you to the constant habits and whole tenor of my life. The
proof to my friends is easy. My tailor's bill for the last fifteen years
is a record of the most indisputable authority. Malicious souls may
direct you, perhaps, to Lord Stormont's _valet de chambre_, and can
vouch the anecdote that on the day when I kissed hands for my
appointment to the office of Attorney General, I appeared in a laced
waistcoat that once belonged to his master. I bought the waistcoat, but
despise the insinuation; nor is this the only instance in which I am
obliged to diminish my wants and apportion them to my very limited
means. Lady K---- will be my witness that until my last appointment I
was an utter stranger to the luxury of a pocket-handkerchief." The
pocket-handkerchief which then came into his possession was supposed to
have been found in the pocket of the second-hand waistcoat; and Jekyll
always maintained that, as it was not considered in the purchase, it
remained the valet's property, and did not pass into the lawyer's
rightful possession. This was the only handkerchief which Lord Kenyon is
said to have ever possessed, and Lord Ellenborough alluded to it when,
in a conversation that turned upon the economy which the income-tax
would necessitate in all ranks of life, he observed--"Lord Kenyon, who
is not very nice, intends to meet the crisis by laying down his
handkerchief."

Of his lordship's way of getting through seasons of catarrh without a
handkerchief, there are several stories that would scarcely please the
fastidious readers of this volume.

Of his two wigs (one considerably less