Of Lord Hermand we have already had occasion to speak, as in fact his name has become in some manner identified with that conviviality which marked almost as a characteristic the Scottish Bench of his time.  He gained, however, great distinction as a judge, and was a capital lawyer.  When at the bar, Lords Newton and Hermand were great friends, and many were the convivial meetings they enjoyed together.  But Lord Hermand outlived all his old last-century contemporaries, and formed with Lord Balgray what we may consider the connecting links between the past and the present race of Scottish lawyers.

Lord Kames was a keen agricultural experimentalist, and in his Gentleman Farmer anticipated many modern improvements.  He was, however, occasionally too sanguine.  “John,” said he one day to his old overseer, “I think we’ll see the day when a man may carry out as much chemical manure in his waistcoat pocket as will serve for a whole field.”  “Weel,” rejoined the other, “I am of opinion that if your lordship were to carry out the dung in your waistcoat pocket, ye might bring hame the crap in your greatcoat pocket.”

We could scarcely perhaps offer a more marked difference between habits once tolerated on the bench and those which now distinguish the august seat of Senators of Justice, than by quoting, from Kay’s Portraits, vol. ii. p. 278, a sally of a Lord of Session of those days, which he played off, when sitting as judge, upon a young friend whom he was determined to frighten.  “A young counsel was addressing him on some not very important point that had arisen in the division of a common (or commonty, according to law phraseology), when, having made some bold averment, the judge exclaimed, ‘That’s a lee, Jemmie,’ ‘My lord!’ ejaculated the amazed barrister.  ’Ay, ay, Jemmie; I see by your face ye’re leein’.’  ‘Indeed, my lord, I am not.’  ’Dinna tell me that; it’s no in your memorial (brief)—­awa wi’ you;’ and, overcome with astonishment and vexation, the discomfited barrister left the bar.  The judge thereupon chuckled with infinite delight; and beckoning to the clerk who attended on the occasion, he said, ‘Are ye no Rabbie H——­’s man?’ ‘Yes, my lord.’  ‘Wasna Jemmie——­leein’?’ ‘Oh no, my lord.’  ’Ye’re quite sure?’ Oh yes.’  ’Then just write out what you want, and I’ll sign it; my faith, but I made Jemmie stare.’  So the decision was dictated by the clerk, and duly signed by the judge, who left the bench highly diverted with the fright he had given his young friend.”  Such scenes enacted in court now would astonish the present generation, both of lawyers and of suitors.