There were some persons perhaps who on the 4th of December last, when the Queen went in pomp to open the new Law Courts, betook themselves not to the new hall, but to the old. Possibly they had no choice but to put up with the less gorgeous of the two pageants, for they were neither jurors in the Belt case nor otherwise persons of mark. Or it may be they preferred to see the end of an old story—a very old story—to the beginning of a new. For such a choice there was something to be said. They may live to see many noteworthy sights in Mr. Street–s new Courts; they will hardly see another procession of judges in Westminster Hall, and when the procession had passed, they may have felt that they had seen what was worth remembering. Not that there was any excuse for profound emotion, but still something had happened; the curtain had fallen on a scene which began who shall say how long ago? Possibly some readers may be so far like-minded with these spectators, that having seen through the artist–s eye something of the judges as they sit in their new Courts, and being of the sound opinion that a good picture needs no bush of words, they will be willing to throw a glance back on Westminster Hall.