for the prosecution are simple not to open them to the jury in a speech, but simply to call the witnesses for the prosecution. He next addresses the clerk of the court, commanding him 'to get twelve common jurymen into the box,' so as to be ready to commence the trial of the first prisoner against whom a bill shall be presented by the Grand Jury; nibs his pen, and then proceeds to talk affably with the Mayor of Greenpool, who is seated near him on the bench. Presently a bill is brought in by the Grand Jury; the prisoner referred to in it is at once arraigned at the Bar; the witnesses are examined for the prosecution; Quirk sums the case up to the jury; they find the accused man guilty; Quirk sentences him to seven years' penal servitude; and all this is accomplished within the space of thirty minutes from the conclusion of Quirk's charge to the Grand Jury!

In this way will Quirk proceed, without a moment's interruption, throughout the entire day. I confess that I pity those twelve jurymen who are now in the jury box. They are decent tradesmen, accustomed to sit down to a comfortable dinner at one o'clock, whereas Quirk never takes any lunch and never dines till eight o'clock at night. Quirk will, therefore, remorselessly keep the wretched jurymen whom he has at present got

hold of hard at work during the entire day, pitilessly disregarding their humble request, preferred at one o'clock, to be allowed to go h'out for h'only five minutes to 'ave a snack at somethink!' About seven o'clock, having by that time got through the entire calendar, Quirk will dismiss the twelve wretched jurymen more dead than alive, sardonically presenting them at parting with the thanks of the country for their valuable services.' Quirk will then rush off to his hotel, enjoy there his eight o'clock dinner and his bottle of hock-—the only things Quirk knows are law and hock-and he will then rush back to town by the night train, cramming up en route that big brief from which he has to open the plaintiff's case at Guildhall at ten o'clock to-morrow morning.

Greenpool sessions are what are termed in the slang of the Bar 'soup sessions.' In other words, all the prosecution briefs are in the hands of the town clerk of Greenpool, and he gives to each barrister who attends Greenpool sessions (according to seniority) one prosecution brief. Very often there are more barristers present than there are cases to be tried; in which event 'the soup,'. in the slang of the Bar, is said 'not to have gone all round.' Upon the other hand there are sometimes ---though rarely-more cases to be tried at Green

pool sessions than there are barristers present, in which event several of the senior counsel get two briefs. The fee ordinarily marked upon a prosecution brief at sessions is only one guinea, though, I believe, that at some sessions in England, in cases where there are more than six witnesses to be examined, a fee of two guineas is allowed to the prosecuting counsel. In obedience to Bar etiquette, no man who has attained the rank of a Q.C. ever goes sessions unless he be specially retained to do so.

Nearly every sessions in England has a sessions mess, of which every barrister who goes sessions must be a member. Only those barristers too who are members of the circuit in which the county of Stoneyshire is included are allowed, by the etiquette of their profession, to go to Stoneyshire sessions. The same rule applies to every county in England. Unless, for example, a barrister be a member of the Western circuit he would not be allowed by his professional brethren to practise at Exeter sessions. Similarly no man who is not a member of the Midland circuit would be permitted to practise at Birmingham sessions.

I may close this article by saying that scarcely any barristers who live in London can ever hope, even if they are more than ordinarily successful, to make any money by attending country sessions.

The practice, however, which young counsel acquire at sessions in conducting cases in court is of the utmost value to them, and sometimes enables them afterwards to attain to eminence in their profession. Whenever a young barrister therefore has obtained a large practice at Country sessions, he may fairly be considered to have successfully mounted the first rung of the ladder which may eventually lead him to the judicial bench.

AN EMINENT LEADER.

SIR LONGROBE BIGWIG, Q.C., M.P., stands six feet three in his stockings; his chest is broad; his nose is aquiline; his eyes are keen; his mouth is firm; and his voice is one of the most musical with which ever man was blessed. Taken altogether, Sir Longrobe Bigwig is a man of imposing appearance, and he is, without doubt, a very eminent leader. He has in his time had so much practice in addressing juries, that he now knows to a nicety what to say to them, and also-which is often much more important-what to leave unsaid. Sir Longrobe Bigwig, though he now 'leads' on one side or the other, in almost every important case which is tried in Westminster Hall, had, so long as he remained a junior counsel, a very small practice at the bar. Nor is this to be wondered at, for though Sir Longrobe Bigwig is an acute cross-examiner, and an able speaker, he has never been celebrated for his knowledge of the laws of his country. Now