It must be admitted (talking of the late _Vice_) that he really was
enough to annoy any sober staid master, by his frolics and gambols since
he has been made a judge. I remember him a quiet good sort of man
enough: with a bed-room and kitchen in the area of No. 11, New-square;
and his dining-room above, serving also for consultations: and his
going, now and then, only to have a game of whist and glass of negus at
Serle's;--but, now, he is a perfect _Monsieur Tonson_ to all continental
travellers. Never can you take up the police-book at the hotels, on the
road to Italy, without _Sir John Leach_ staring you in the face. The
other day at the _Cloche_ at Dijon (I will never go there again, and beg
Sir John to do me the favour to withdraw his patronage also,--the _Parc_
is worth twenty of it), yawning over my bottle of _Cote d'Or_, I
inquired of the waiter who of my "land's language" had lately been
there. "Vy, Sare, ve have de Milor Leash." "Lord Leash?"--"Oui,
Monsieur;--mais, Fanchette, apportez le livre ici pour Monsieur--le
voila."--"Ah, ha! Sir John Leach; I see."--"Ah qu'il est bon enfant!
qu'il est gai!" exclaimed the _garcon_. "Ah! qu'il est aimable!" sighed
Fanchette--Enter De Molin the banker's little bureau at Lausanne--(by
the way, it is the favourite chamber of Gibbon the historian, and if you
pay the house a visit from motives of curiosity respecting its former
occupant, you will be happy to be allowed to remain and converse with
the actual owner, for a more honourable, liberal, and better-informed
man, does not exist)--there, I say, in the glass over the mantlepiece,
will you see the card of _Sir John Leach_. Milan--Florence--the same. At
Torlogna's the same. Then at Naples: go to San Carlos'; and if you get
behind the scenes, ask for Braccini, the _poetá_ of the theatre, who has
been long in England; "Cospetto di Bacco!" he will exclaim: "il degn
uomo, quel Vice Cancelliere: il Cavaliere _Licci!_--Gran Dio! quale
talento per la musica!-Cappari! egli ha guadagnato i cuori di tutte le
donne Napolitane."[3] I certainly expect to hear him some day astonish
the bar, by unwittingly striking up "O Pescator delle onde," or "Sul
margine del Rio," in the Rolls Court; and, as in ancient Greece ('tis
said) pleadings were chanted, let us yet hope to hear an argument
preferred to the tune of "They are a' noddin, noddin, noddin;" an answer
stated _andante_; a reply given in a _bravura_, and judgment pronounced
_presto_. With all his faults (if they be such, which I do not admit),
the present Master of the Rolls is a good judge, and an able man;--"un
peu vif, peut-etre," as Fanchette might say; and it is more agreeable
than otherwise, to see one who has devoted his life to the study of the
law, enjoying himself in lighter pursuits, after having attained rank
and dignity in the profession; and after having punctually and
satisfactorily executed the important duties of the day, seeking at its
close, and participating in the gaiety which society offers. It speaks a
good heart and cheerful temper; whereas, when we hear a distaste
declared for music, and that of the highest character, we cannot but
call to mind "He who has not the concord of sweet sounds" within
himself;--but I will not pursue the quotation. Besides, were there
persons fools enough to blame Sir John for his social propensities, he
might answer them as the Parisian coachman did.--"What was that?"--"Why,
a French Jehu was tried in 1818, for some accident caused by his
cabriolet, before the Criminal Court of Paris; when, having heard the
evidence, the President of the Tribunal declared that he stood
acquitted, but that the court felt it its duty to blame him, and that he
was blamed accordingly." "Blamed!" exclaimed Jehu; "Blamed!--I don't
quite understand your Honor;--but--but--will it prevent my handling the
ribands, and driving the _wehicle_?"--"No!" said the judge. "Then, with
all respect for your Honor, I just laugh at it," said coachee, bowing.
"And so do I," said the president also, in rising to leave the
court.--_New Monthly Magazine_.
[3] By Bacchus! what a worthy man is the Vice Chancellor, the
Chevalier Leach! gods! what a taste for music; i' faith he has
gained the hearts of all the Neapolitan ladies.
* * * * *