Patrick, Lord Robertson, one of the senators of the College of Justice, was a great humorist. He was on terms of intimacy with the late Mr. Alexander Douglas, W.S., who, on account of the untidiness of his person, was known by the sobriquet of "Dirty Douglas." Lord Robertson invited his friend to accompany him to a ball. "I would go," said Mr. Douglas, "but I don't care about my friends knowing that I attend balls."—"Why, Douglas," replied the senator, "put on a well-brushed coat and a clean shirt, and nobody will know you." When at the Bar, Robertson was frequently entrusted with cases by Mr. Douglas. Handing his learned friend a fee in Scottish notes, Mr. Douglas remarked: "These notes, Robertson, are, like myself, getting old."—"Yes, they're both old and dirty, Douglas," rejoined Robertson.
When Robertson was attending an appeal case in the House of Lords he received great attention from Lord Brougham. This gave rise to a report in the Parliament House of Edinburgh that the popular Tory advocate had "ratted" to the Liberal side in politics, which found expression in the following jeu d'esprit:
"When Brougham by Robertson was told
He'd condescend a place to hold,
The Chancellor said, with wondering eyes,
Viewing the Rat's tremendous size,
'That you a place would hold is true,
But where's the place that would hold you?'"
Lord Rutherford when at the Bar put an illustration to the Bench in connection with a church case. "Suppose the Justiciary Court condemned a man to be hanged, however unjustly, could that man come into this Court of Session and ask your lordships to interfere?" and he turned round very majestically to Robertson opposing him. "Oh, my lords," said Robertson, "a case of suspension, clearly."
When a sheriff, Rutherford, dining with a number of members of the legal profession, had to reply to the toast, "The Bench of Scotland." In illustration of a trite remark that all litigants could not be expected to have the highest regard for the judges who have tried their cases, he told the following story: A worthy but unfortunate south-country farmer had fought his case in the teeth of adverse decisions in the Lower Courts to the bitter end in one of the divisions of the Court of Session. After the decision of this tribunal affirming the judgment he had appealed against, and thus finally blasting his fondest hopes, he was heard to mutter as he left the Court: "They ca' themselves senators o' the College o' Justice, but it's ma opeenion they're a' the waur o' drink!"
It was only a small point of law, but the two counsel were hammering at each other tooth and nail. They had been submitting this and that to his lordship for twenty minutes, and growing more and more heated as they argued. At last: "You're an ass, sir!" shrieked one. "And you're a liar, sir!" roared the other. Then the judge woke up. "Now that counsel have identified each other," said he, "let us proceed to the disputed points."
A recent eminent judge of the Scottish Bench when sitting to an artist for his portrait was asked what he thought of the likeness. His lordship's reply was that he thought it good enough, but he would have liked "to see a little more dislike to Gladstone's Irish Bills in the expression."