deed, he was never given to much exercise or muscular exertion, and spent much of his time, both in town and country, among his books, of which he had a very rare collection. He was exceedingly wellversed in the civil law. In dealing with facts he was rapid, discriminating, and incisive; and when these were ascertained and fixed, he handled the law applicable to them with the ease and grasp of a master. At the time of his death he had been thirtytwo years at the Bar, and twenty-years on the Bench. His sagacity and masterly analysis of evidence, and the intense earnestness with which he identified himself with his client, made his appeals to juries always powerful and frequently resistless. As a judge he was distinguished by breadth and distinctiveness of view, his graceful and luminous exposition, his purity and impartiality of character, and by uniform affability and courtesy of demeanour. In private life, while he held by his distinctive principles, he was too goodnatured to obtrude them upon society. No man was more ready to co-operate with those who differed most widely from him, if he could find common standing-ground, and this, with his many other marked qualities, made him esteemed by all parties alike.

Lord Neaves became connected with Blackwood's Magazine in 1835. He always retained the connection, and his earlier contributions were frequently in conjunction with his friends Moir and Cheape. He was considerably younger than the great Christopher North-the leading spirit of the literary contributors to Blackwood—but not too far separated in age to be one of the brilliant group which surrounded that representative man. Messrs Blackwood published a volume of his "Songs and Verses: Social and Scientific," as the production of "an old cóntributor to Maga," a work which reached, in 1875, a fourth and enlarged edition.

His songs

and verses are the perfection of admir

able good sense, combined with quickness to perceive the ludicrous. The humour is always rich, fresh, and enforced, and the satire is keen, without a particle of bitterness. He naturally had a fine sense of the ridiculous, and a lively impression of incongruity. The last work from his pen which issued from the press, "The Translations from the Greek Anthology," has been universally praised by scholars, both for the grace of the rendering and the mastery of the text which it evinces. In the year in which he died, he supplied some acute and valuable notes to the fourth edition of Mackenzie's "Treatise on the Roman Law," which he enlivens by several spirited translations from obscure Greek epigrams on lawyers and legal subjects, given with great spirit and felicity.

It has been regretted that Lord Neaves did not engage in more systematic literary work. That he would have excelled in this pursuit there can be little doubt, from the quality of what he has done. Such labour, however, he considered more as a recreation than a task; and probably more continuous or more ambitious toil might have proved too much for a frame never physically vigorous. He not only read his books, but he studied them; and that occupation, and the companionship of an attached family, and the pleasant intercourse of a large and congenial circle of friends, were the resources of his hours of leisure.

THE SONS OF THE MANSE.

AIR-"This Brown Jug."

O! law is a trade that's not easy to learn,
And a good many failures we daily discern;

But, touching this matter, I'm anxious to mention
A fact I've observed, that may claim some attention :
If
you look round the Bar you will see at a glance
Not a few of the foremost are Sons of the Manse.

Some glibly can speak what is not worth the speaking;
Some can think, but they still are for words vainly seeking ;
A young man's best prospects will likely be blighted
If the tongue and the brains aren't duly united;
But if men who have both are here asked to advance,
You will find out that many are Sons of the Manse.

In both Heads of the Court my assertion is proved,
For a grandson is merely a son once removed;

Others' names I don't mention-the task would be tedious,
And perhaps would be found not a little invidious ;

But I often have witnessed a gay legal dance,

Where the whole four performers were Sons of the Manse.

The son of an agent, his son-in-law too,

May be certain at first to have something to do ;
Political friends may secure one a start-

Nay, a clerk from an office may play a fair part;
But in time these will not have the ghost of a chance
With those dangerous rivals, the Sons of the Manse.

I don't know how elsewhere these matters may be,
Though I daresay in England the like things they see;
I remember at least that the race of the Laws
Had both Bishops and Judges that met with applause;
But in Italy, Spain, and in most parts of France,
They can scarce have legitimate Sons of the Manse.

But talking of England, you'll keep it in view
That the Manse has sent thither a nursling or two:
Plain John through high honours successfully passed,
And the Woolsack sustained his Fife "hurdies" at last;
While Brougham, in his pride, loved to caper and prance,
When, confessed, through his mother, a Son of the Manse.

I don't mean to say that these shoots from the Church
Have left all their brothers-in-law in the lurch;
Good sons of lay Sires, not a whit behind these,
Have their share of the talents, their share of the fees;
But all parties will own that my song's no romance,
And that both Bench and Bar owe a debt to the Manse.

Such wondrous results there's no way of explaining,
If we do not ascribe them to clerical training;
The tyro begins with the "Chief End of Man,"
And Effectual Calling" completes the great plan;
Both Language and Logic his genius enhance
Till he comes out a genuine Son of the Manse.

Then here's to the Manse! both Established and Free,
And don't, I beseech you, leave out the U. P.;
Seceders good service performed in past years,
Though I'm sorry they call themselves now Volunteers;
At the old Burgher Sect I can ne'er look askance,
When I think Robert Jameson came from that Manse.

The Manse and the Pulpit, the Bench and the Bar,
With the same godless enemies ever wage war;
They seek to subdue, by the pen, by the tongue,
Dissension, Disorder, Injustice, and Wrong.

How changed for the worse were broad Scotland's expanse,
If she hadn't the Parliament House-and the Manse.

A SONG OF PROVERBS.

AIR-" Push about the jorum."

In ancient days, tradition says,

When knowledge much was stinted-
When few could teach and fewer preach,
And books were not yet printed-

What wise men thought, by prudence taught,
They pithily expounded;

And proverbs sage, from age to age,

In every mouth abounded.

O blessings on the men of yore,
Who wisdom thus augmented,
And left a store of easy lore
For human use invented.

Two of a trade, 'twas early said,
Do very ill agree, sir;

A beggar hates at rich men's gates

A beggar's face to see, sir.

Yet trades there are, though rather rare,
Where men are not so jealous;

Two lawyers know the coal to blow,
Just like a pair of bellows,

O blessings, etc.

When tinkers try their trade to ply,
They make more holes than mend, sir;
Set some astride a horse to ride,

You know their latter end, sir.

Rogues meet their due when out they fall,
And each the other blames, sir ;
The pot should not the kettle call
Opprobrious sorts of names, sir.
O blessings, etc.

The man who would Charybdis shun,
Must make a cautious movement,
Or else he'll into Scylla run-
Which would be no improvement.
The fish that left the frying-pan,
On feeling that desire, sir,
Took little by their change of plan,
When floundering in the fire, sir.
O blessings, etc.

A man of nous from a glass house
Will not be throwing stones, sir;
A mountain may bring forth a mouse,
With many throes and groans, sir.
A friend in need's a friend indeed,

And prized as such should be, sir;
But summer friends, when summer ends,
Are off and o'er the sea, sir.

O blessings, etc.

Sour grapes, we cry, of things too high,
Which gives our pride relief, sir;
Between two stools the bones of fools
Are apt to come to grief, sir.
Truth, some folks tell, lies in a well,
Though why I ne'er could see, sir;
But some opine 'tis found in wine :
Which better pleases me, sir.
O blessings, etc.

Your toil and pain will all be vain,
To try to milk the bull, sir;
If forth you jog to shear the hog,
You'll get more cry than wool, sir.
"Twould task your hand to sow the sand,
Or shave a chin that's bare, sir;
You cannot strip a Highland hip
Of what it does not wear, sir.
O blessings, etc.

I'm wae to think the Scottish tongue
Is deein' oot sae fast, man ;
But some few sayin's may be sung
Or e'er its day be past, man.
It's far o'er late the nest to seek,
When a' the birds are flown, man;

Or yet the stable door to steek,
When a' the steeds are stown, man.
O blessings, etc.

Of proverbs in the common style
If now you're growing weary,
I'll try again to raise a smile

With two by Lord Dundreary.
You cannot brew good Burgundy
Out of an old sow's ear, sir;
Nor can you make a silken purse
From very sour small beer, sir.
O blessings, etc.

Now he who listens to my song,
And heeds what I indite, sir,
Will seldom very far go wrong,
And often will go right, sir.