answer that question? I certainly will answer it in this way, that from what they did, being a mere observer of what passed, I should not think myself justified in saying that either of them did. Am I to say whether I think they would have been glad if he had escaped? That is what you are pressing me

for.

Q. No man can misunderstand me; I ask, whether from the conduct of Lord Thanet or Mr. Fergusson, or either of them, as it fell under your observation, you believe, upon your oath, that they meant to favour the escape of O'Connor?

A. I repeat it again, that from what either of them did, I should have no right to conclude that they were persons assisting the escape of O'Connor.

Q. I ask you again, whether you believe from the conduct of Lord Thanet or Mr. Fergusson, or either of them, upon your oath, that they did not mean to favour the escape of O'Connor?

A. I have answered it already.

Lord Kenyon. If you do not answer it, to be sure we must draw the natural inference.

Mr. Sheridan. I have no doubt that they wished he might escape; but from any thing I saw them do, I have no right to conclude that they did. Mr. Law. I will have an answer; I ask you again, whether from their conduct, as it fell under your observation, you do not believe they meant to favour the escape of O'Connor ?

A. If the learned gentleman thinks he can entrap me, he will find himself mistaken.

Mr. Erskine. It is hardly a legal question.

Lord Kenyon. I think it is not an illegal question.

Mr. Law. I will repeat the question---whether from their conduct, as it fell under your observation, you do not believe they meant to favour the escape of O'Connor?

A. My belief is, that they wished him to escape; but, from any thing I saw of their conduct upon that occasiou, I am not justified in saying so.

Q. I will ask you, whether it was not previously intended that he should escape, if possible? A. Certainly the contrary.

Q. Nor had you any intimation that it was intended to be attempted?

A. Certainly the contrary, There was a loose rumour of another warrant, and that it was meant that he should be arrested again, which was afterwards contradicted. Then the question was mooted, whethe the writ could be issued before he was dismissed from custody. Certainly there was no idea of a rescue. There was no friend of Mr. O'Connor's, I believe, but saw with regret any attempt on his part to leave the court.

Re-examined by Mr. Erskine. You were asked by Mr. Law, whether you believed that the defendants wished or meant to favour the escape of Mr. O'Connor. I ask you, after what you have sworn, whether you believe these gentlemen did any act to rescue Mr. O'Connor?

A. Certainly not; and 1 have stated upon my oath, that every man in the narrow gateway endeavoured to stop him; I remarked it particularly; because, there being a common feeling among Englishmen, and he being acquitted, I thought they might form a plan to let him escape.

Q. You have stated that you saw no one act done or committed by any one of the defendants, indicative of an intention to aid Mr. O'Connor's escape. A. Certainly.

Q. I ask you, whether you believe they did take any part in rescuing Mr. O'Connor ?

A. Certainly not.

CRYING LAWYER.

One of the contemporaries of Mr. Wedderburn (afterwards Lord Loughborough) at the Scottish Bar, was Mr. Lockhart, a very celebrated pleader, who bore away all the laurels and all the emoluments of the profession. He appears to have excelled chiefly in the pathetic, and it was jocularly remarked of him, that the amount of his honorarium, or fee, could be easily discovered in his countenance; for if handsome, he appeared deeply affected at the justice of his client's case; but if unexpectedly great, he regularly melted It was owing to a sarcasm by Mr. Wedderburn on this weeping propensity of Mr. L., that Mr. W. was driven from the Scottish Bar, to reap that harvest of renown which awaited him in England. [See Anecdotes of Eloquence.]

into tears.

RISE OF CURRAN.

When Curran was called to the bar, he was without friends, without connexions, without fortune, conscious of talents far above the mob by which he was elbowed, and endued with a sensibility which rendered him painfully alive to the mortifications he was fated to

experience. After toiling for a very inadequate recompense at the sessions of Cork, and wearing, as he said himself, his teeth almost to their stumps, he proceeded to the metropolis, taking for his wife and young children, a miserable lodging on Hog-hill. Term after Term, without either profit or professional reputation, he paced the hall of the Four Courts. Yet even thus he was not altogether undistinguished. If his pocket was not heavy, his heart was light: he was young and ardent, buoyed up not less by the consciousness of what he felt within, than by the encouraging comparison with those who were successful around him; and he took his station among the crowd of idlers, whom he amused with his wit, or amazed by his eloquence. Many even who had emerged from that crowd, did not disdain occasionally to glean from his conversation the rich and varied treasures which he did not fail to squander with the most unsparing prodigality; and some there were who observed the brightness of the infant luminary struggling through the obscurity that clouded its commencement. Amongst those who had the discrimination to appreciate, and the heart to feel for him, luckily for Curran, was Mr. Arthur Wolfe, afterwards the unfortunate but respected Lord Kilwarden. The first fee of any consequence which he received, was through his recommendation; and his recital of the incident cannot be without its interest to the young professional aspirant, whom a temporary neglect may have sunk into dejection. "I then lived," said he, "upon Hog-hill; my wife and children were the chief furniture of my apartments; and as to my rent, it stood pretty much the same chance of liquidation with the national debt. Mrs. Curran,

however, was a barrister's lady, and what was wanted in wealth, she was well determined should be supplied by dignity. The landlady, on the other hand, had no idea of any gradation except that of pounds, shillings, and pence. I walked out one morning to avoid the perpetual altercations on the subject, with my mind, you may imagine, in no very enviable temperament. I fell into the gloom to which from my infancy I had been occasionally subject. I had a family for whom I had no dinner, and a landlady for whom I had no rent. I had gone abroad in despondence; I returned home almost in desperation. When I opened the door of my study, where Lavater alone could have found a library, the first object which presented itself was an immense folio of a brief, 20 golden guineas wrapped up beside it, and the name of Old Bob Lyons, marked upon the back of it. I paid my landlady; bought a good dinner; gave Bob Lyons a share of it; and that dinner was the date of my prosperity!" Such was his own exact account of his professional advancement.

BON MOT.

Mr. Bethel, an Irish counsellor, as celebrated for his wit as his practice, was once robbed of a suit of clothes in rather an extraordinary manner. Meeting on the day after a brother barrister in the Hall of the Four Courts, the latter began to condole with him on his misfortune, mingling some expressions of surprise at the singularity of the thing. "It is extraordinary indeed, my dear friend," replied Bethel, "for without vanity, I may say it is the first suit I ever lost."