For the foregoing anecdotes relating to this well-known witty lawyer, as well as for the one that follows, I am indebted to the late Dr. Charles Rogers’ Illustrations of Scottish Life. On a change of ministry, Erskine was appointed to succeed Harry Dundas (subsequently Lord Melville), as Lord-Advocate. On the morning of his appointment, he met Dundas in the Parliament House, who had resumed the ordinary gown worn by all practitioners at the Scottish Bar, excepting the Lord-Advocate and the Solicitor-General. After a little conversation, Erskine remarked that he must be off to order his silk gown.
“’Tis not worth your while,” said Dundas, “for the short time you’ll want it; you had better borrow mine.”
“I have no doubt your gown,” replied Erskine, “is made to fit any party; but however short may be my time in office, it shall not be said of Henry Erskine that he put on the abandoned habits of his predecessor.”
The late Lord Rutherford was a very able lawyer, but exceedingly affected in his manner and speech, and when addressing either the Bench or a jury spoke extra-superfine English. When, however, he broke out in a passion, which was by no means an unusual occurrence, he expressed his feelings in the broad vernacular. Lord Cockburn said to him one day, “It is strange, Rutherford, that you should pray in English and swear in Scotch.”
Mr. Strang and Mr. Bruce were two members of the faculty in Parliament House, Edinburgh, who were nearly equally matched in cleverness, but most unlike as to stature. Strang was quite an Anak in height, whilst Bruce was so diminutive that he was facetiously known as “Zaccheus.” When Sheriff Barbour, of Inverness, was appointed a Lord of Session, under the title of Lord Skelton, he was naturally ignorant of the new members of the bar in Parliament House, from which he had been away for twenty years.
On an early day after Lord Skelton began his duties in the Court of Session he was hearing a case in which Bruce appeared for the prosecution, while Strang had been retained for the defence. Bruce, duly arrayed in wig and gown, the latter of which effectually hid his short legs, was standing behind the Advocate’s table, and had got under weigh in his opening remarks for the prosecution, when his Lordship interposed, with the slightest manifestation of feeling—
“It is usual, Mr. Bruce, for an advocate to stand when he addresses the Court.”
“I am standing, my Lord,” replied Bruce, deferentially.
“Oh, I beg a thousand pardons!” resumed Lord Skelton, feeling bitterly his unfortunate remark, and bowing his head for a few minutes towards his papers.
Bruce continuing his opening address, his Lordship took courage and looked up, when he saw at the other end of the bar the tall figure of Strang, towering up above his fellows. Thinking he had risen to interpose some remark against the opposing counsel’s speech, he hurriedly said—