I happened to be standing close beside Lord P's Bar, when a pleading was going on for aliment of a natural child, at the instance of a servant-wench against an Irish student, who had come to Edinburgh to attend the Medical Classes. The native of the Emerald Isle was personally present in rear of his counsel, arrayed in a tarnished green great-coat, and muttering bitterly in his national accent. I heard him say to one near him, that he had been prevented from getting out of the way in proper time, by the harsh procedure of a grocer in Drummond Street, whose account was unpaid, and who had detained him by what he called a "meditatione fugæ warrant." The poor girl's case was set forth with great breadth of colouring and verity of detail by Mr Clerk, (a fine sagacious-looking old gentleman, of whom I shall speak anon,) and the Bar was speedily surrounded by close ranks of listeners. Mr Jeffrey, who was of counsel for the son of Erin, observed that the exceeding rapipidity with which the crowd clustered itself around did not escape my attention, and whispered to me, that cases of this kind are always honoured with an especial allowance of such honour-being regarded as elegant nuga, or taste

ful relaxations from the drier routine of ordinary practice somewhat like snatches of the BellesLettres in the midst of a course of hard reading. I could perceive, that even the grimmest and most morose-looking Men of Business would, in passing, endeavour to wedge their noses into the crowd, and after catching a few words of the pleading, would turn away grinning like satyrs, with the relish of what they had heard still mantling in their opaque imaginations. Jeffrey also told me, that Irish cases of the sort abovementioned are extremely frequent even in the Scottish courts; and, indeed, the great Philips himself seems never to enjoy the full command and swing of his powers, unless on the subject of a seduction; so that it may be said with truth of this wonderful man, and the gallant nation to which he belongs, that they mutually stand in much need of each other.

"Tis well that they should sin, so he may shine."

P. M.

35

LETTER XXXI.

TO THE SAME.

DEAR WILLIAMS,

THE walls of this Outer House are in general quite bare; for the few old portraits hung here and there, are insufficient to produce any impression in the general view; but the Hall has lately received one very important ornamentnamely, a statue of the late Lord Melville by Chantry, which has been placed on a pedestal of considerable elevation in the centre of the floor. As a piece of art, I cannot say that I consider this statue as at all equal to some others by the same masterly hand, which I have seen elsewhere. I am aware, however, that it is seen to very little advantage in the situation where it is placed; and, moreover, that no statue can be seen to its utmost advantage, when it is quite new from the chisel of the sculptor. It requires some time before the marble can be made to re

concile itself with the atmosphere around it; and while the surface continues to offend the eye by its first cold glare of chalky whiteness, it is not quite easy for an ordinary connoisseur to form a proper idea of the lines and forms set forth in this unharmonious material. Making allowance for all this, however, I can scarcely bring myself to imagine, that the statue of Melville will ever be thought to do honour to the genius of Chantry. There is some skill displayed in the management of the Viscount's robes; and in the face itself, there is a very considerable likeness to Lord Melville-which is enough, as your recollection must well assure you, to save it from any want of expressiveness. But the effect of the whole is, I think, very trivial, compared with what such an artist might have been expected to produce, when he had so fine a subject as Dundas to stimulate his energies. It is not often, now-a-days, that an artist can hope to meet with such a union of intellectual and corporeal grandeur, as were joined together in this Friend and Brother of William Pitt.

This statue has been erected entirely at the expence of the gentlemen of the Scottish Bar, and it is impossible not to admire and honour the

feelings, which called forth from them such a magnificent mark of respect for the memory of their illustrious Brother. Lord Melville walked the boards of the Parliament House during no less than twenty years, before he began to reside constantly in London as Treasurer of the Navy; and during the whole of this period, his happy temper and manners, and friendly open-hearted disposition, rendered him a universal favourite among all that followed the same course of life. By all true Scotchmen, indeed, of whatever party in church or state, Melville was always regarded with an eye of kindliness and partiality. Whig and Tory agreed in loving him; and how could it be otherwise, for although nobody surely could be more firm in his political principles than he himself was, he allowed no feelings, arising out of these principles, to affect his behaviour in the intercourse of common life. He was always happy to drink his bottle of port with any worthy man of any party; and he was always happy to oblige personally those, in common with whom he had any recollections of good-humoured festivity. But the great source of his popularity was unquestionably nothing more than his intimate and most familiar acquaintance with the actual state of Scotland, and its inhabitants, and