Part 4

When you, my first brief, were delivered, Every fibre in me quivered With delight. I seemed to see Myself admitted a K.C.; Piles of briefs upon the table, More work to do than I was able; Clients scrambling for advice, Then Lord Chancellor in a trice.

I seized my virgin pencil blue, Marked and perused you through and through The story brief, instructions short, Defendant in a county court, It needed not an ounce of sense To see that you had no defence. But, erudite in English law, I fashioned bricks without the straw.

Around my chamber-floor I sped, Harangued the book-case on each head; Demosthenes and Cicero On hearing me had cried a go. Then I must own that I was nettled-- Out of court the case was settled. All my points were left unmade, And the fee is left unpaid.

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When may a lawyer’s clerk be considered most captivating? When he’s engrossing.

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WHY SOME OF US GO ON CIRCUIT

(_By one of the Briefless_)

_Member of the Upper Bar (perusing Assize List)._ Shall I go round this time? Hum. Let me see. “Muddeford”--can get a day’s hunting there, I think. “Wandsbury”--go over to the Chilstons for Sunday, and have a jolly afternoon with Lily. “Swanston”--wouldn’t do any harm to go and look up Uncle George. “Leamouth”--excellent quarters at hotel there; fair dinner, too. “Deddingham”--good murder case; shouldn’t like to miss it. Yes, I think I’ll go round as far as that, and get back to town in time for the boat-race.”

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REFORM OF THE LAW.--Chancellors, ex-Chancellors, and King’s Counsel, are members of a society for the reform of the law. They meet and denounce the wickedness of costs, and then hie away to practice. This reminds us of a passage in Borrow’s _Gipsies of Spain_:--“And now, my dears,” says the head of the family to the younger branches--“now you have said your prayers, go out and steal.”

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LAW AND POLICE

(_A report of the future_)

The report that the Flashaway divorce suit is postponed is unfounded. It will commence on Tuesday as advertised. There are still a few gallery seats to be obtained at five guineas each.

At Bow Street yesterday, John Jones, a costermonger, was summoned for having obstructed the crowd waiting outside the pit of the Divorce Court. Lady Hightone having given evidence in support of the charge, the defendant explained that he was merely trying to get his barrow through the crowd on his way from Covent Garden.

The magistrate said that the pleasure-seeking public must be protected, and fined him five pounds and costs.

At the same court, the Earl of Blankley was charged with having driven a motor car to the public danger, and further with having run down a boy with fatal result.

His lordship explained that he was co-respondent in a divorce suit, and was on his way to the Law Courts when the accident occurred. The speed may have been a little excessive.

The magistrate said, that bearing in mind the public character of the business on which the defendant was engaged, he would discharge him on payment of half-a-crown and the funeral expenses.

The fine was at once paid.

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AT THE NEW LAW COURTS.--The cry of the solicitor who has to go to the top story to transact business is, “Please give us a lift.” The solicitor’s lift, if introduced, will be called a conveyancer.

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A VERY BAD JUDGE.--The man who tries his friends.

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MOTTO FOR A MAN REPRIEVED FROM THE GALLOWS.--No noose is good news.

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STRANGE SORT OF BUSINESS.--Lawyers sometimes take a different view of things from other persons; so perhaps they may understand how a stationer can think it is to his advantage to give this public notice in his window,--“Deeds abstracted.”

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THE BARRISTERS OF ENGLAND!

The barristers of England, how hungrily they stand About the Hall of Westminster, with wig, and gown, and band; With brief bag full of dummies and fee book full of _oughts_, Result of the establishment of the new county courts.

The barristers of England, how listlessly they sit, Expending on each other a small amount of wit: Without the opportunity of doing something worse, By talking nonsense at the cost of some poor client’s purse.

The barristers of England, how when they get a cause, They (some of them) will disregard all gentlemanly laws; And bullying the witnesses upon the adverse side. Will do their very utmost the honest truth to hide.

The barristers of England, how with _sang froid_ sublime, They undertake to advocate two causes at one time; And when they find it is a thing impossible to do, They throw one client overboard, but take the fees of two.

The barristers of England, how rarely they refuse, The party they appear against with coarseness to abuse; Feeling a noble consciousness no punishment can reach The vulgar ribaldry they call the “privilege of speech.”

The barristers of England, how often they degrade An honourable calling to a pettifogging trade, And show how very slight the lines of separation are, Between the cabman’s licence, and “the licence of the bar.”

The barristers of England, how, if they owe a grudge, They try with insolence to goad a poor assistant-judge; And after having bullied him, their bold imposture clench, By talking of their high respect for the judicial bench.

The barristers of England, how sad it is to feel That rant will pass for energy, and bluster goes for zeal; But ’tis a consolation that ’mid their ranks there are Sufficient gentlemen to save the credit of the bar.

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LEGAL EXAMINATION QUESTION.

_Q._ What is a _feme sole_?

_A._ A lady’s boot that has lost its _fellow_.

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FROM SCOTLAND YARD.--Our police force, it has been observed, is deficient in height. The reason is plain. Tall policemen are discouraged, because they might look over things.

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A TIGHT FIT.--A state of coma, which bobbies are too apt to confound with apoplexy.

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A SPECIAL PLEA.--A young thief who was charged the other day with picking pockets, demurred to the indictment, “for, that, whereas he had never picked pockets, but had always taken them just as they came.”

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MONODY ON THE DEATH OF AN ONLY CLIENT

Oh! take away my wig and gown, Their sight is mock’ry now to me: I pace my chambers up and down, Reiterating “Where is _he_?”

Alas! wild echo, with a moan, Murmurs above my fever’d head: In the wide world I am alone; Ha! ha! my only client’s--dead.

In vain the robing room I seek; The very waiters scarcely bow; Their looks contemptuously speak, “He’s lost his only client now.”

E’en the mild usher, who of yore, Would hasten when his name I said, To hand in motions, comes no more, _He_ knows my only client’s dead.

Ne’er shall I, rising up in court, Open the pleadings of a suit: Ne’er shall the judges cut me short, While moving them for a compute.

No more with a consenting brief Shall I politely bow my head; Where shall I run to hide my grief? Alas! my only client’s dead.

Imagination’s magic power Brings back, as clear as clear can be, The spot, the day, the very hour, When first I sign’d my maiden plea.

In the Exchequer’s hindmost row, I sat, and some one touch’d my head, He tendered ten-and-six, but oh! That only client now is dead.

In vain, I try to sing--I’m hoarse: In vain I try to play the flute, A phantom seems to flit across,-- It is the ghost of a compute.

I try to read--but all in vain; My chambers listlessly I tread; Be still, my heart; throb less, my brain; Ho! ho! my only client’s dead.

I think I hear a double knock; I did--alas! it is a dun. Tailor--avaunt! my sense you shock; He’s dead! you know I had but one!

What’s this they thrust into my hand? A bill returned!--ten pounds for bread! My butcher got a large demand; I’m mad! my only client’s dead.

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REFORM YOUR LAWYERS’ BILLS.--There is one consolidation of the statutes that would be very useful--to make them so solid that no lawyer could drive a coach-and-six through them.

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THE WAY THEY HAVE AT THE BAR

(_Fragment from a romance not entirely imaginary_)

SCENE.--_A corridor in the Royal Courts. Eminent counsel in conversation with estimable solicitor and respected client._

_Client._ I am rather sorry, sir, that you could not conduct my case in person.

_Coun._ So am I. I took a deal of trouble in preparing the argument I proposed to advance, and it was a great disappointment to me that I was unable to deliver it in person.

_Solic._ But your junior, sir, represented you to perfection.

_Coun._ I am rejoiced to hear it. I give every credit to my young and learned friend, and am pleased to think that when we met in consultation I was able to choose the right line of policy.

_Solic._ Besides, if you were not with us, your retainer prevented you from being against us. And that was a distinct advantage.

_Coun._ You are most flattering, and too kind.

_Solic._ Not at all; and I am sure my client agrees with me?

_Client._ Well, of course I would rather have had the assistance of silk, although your junior no doubt did his best.

_Coun._ I am sure he did. And now, gentlemen, is there anything further I can do for you?

_Solic._ Thank you very much--I think not. You got up your case, consulted with your junior and if you were prevented from putting in an appearance in the Court itself, were there in spirit. Besides, I repeat it was a good thing for us that you did not join the Bar of the other side. Thank you very much indeed, sir. Good day.

_Coun._ Good day. (_He prepares to walk off, when, noticing a movement of the solicitor, he stops._) You are sure I can do nothing more for you?

_Solic._ Oh, it’s scarcely worth mentioning. But perhaps you would not mind returning your fee.

_Coun._ With the greatest pleasure! (_Hands over a bag of gold and exit._)

_Client._ Well, really, that seems to me very generous! Isn’t it rather unusual?

_Solic._ Unusual! Oh dear no! Why, it’s the practice of the whole profession!

_Curtain._

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LAW OF DIVORCE

SIR,--A “Barrister” who lately wrote to the _Times_, in order to draw public attention to the existing anomalies in the Law of Divorce, omitted all mention of one of its most glaring absurdities. Allow me to state a case in point. Mr. A. runs away with Mrs. B., very good, I mean, of course very bad; well, Mrs. A. sues for a divorce from Mr. A., and obtains an order for alimony _pendente lite_. Mr. A. objects to pay this amount for the support of his wife, whereupon the Judge “orders an attachment to issue.” Now, sir, if it be, as it certainly is, in the power of the Judge Ordinary to order Mr. A.’s attachment to _Issue_, why should he not be able judicially to order Mr. A.’s attachment to _Wife_? I remain, sir, yours thoughtfully.

A REVISING BARRISTER.

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IMPORTANT TO BARRISTERS

Among the cheap furniture projects, is a tempting offer to supply everything necessary for a barrister’s chambers for five pounds. We have made a rough calculation in our minds of the _meubles_; and the following, we should say, is about the estimate that the advertisers form of

EVERYTHING NECESSARY FOR A BARRISTER’S CHAMBERS.

£ s. d. A mahogany chair, stuffed with hay, for the learned barrister 0 10 0 A japan chair, for the learned barrister’s clerk 0 3 0 A table to hold a plate and a mug, for the learned barrister 0 8 0 A foot-and-a-half wide by five-feet-six long French bedstead 0 13 0 A hay mattress for ditto 0 5 0 A superior feather-bed, warranted best damaged quills 1 5 0 Two blankets in one 0 7 0 A superior brown quilt 0 3 0 Six yards of calico, to fold into a pair of sheets 0 5 0 A yard of matting for the learned barrister’s sitting-room 0 4 0 A pint tea-kettle 0 0 6 A wig-box, the wig to be hired when wanted 0 4 0 Two yards of black stuff, to hang up to look like a gown 0 3 0 A pair of endorsed dummies, as briefs 0 1 6 A blue bag and white stock 0 2 0 A fender and one fire-iron 0 4 0 A coal-scoop 0 1 0 A set of backs of old books, labelled “Reports” 0 1 0 Sundries 0 0 6 ------- £5 0 0

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MOTTO FOR THE LONG FIRM.--“Order is heaven’s first law.”

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LESSONS IN JUSTICE

(IN TWO TONGUES)

_The French Method, reported in a Paris Paper. Close of the Thirteenth Day._

The prisoner was admitted. He was self-possessed, grand, mysterious. He glanced round him with a air of disdain, and jeeringly bowed to the president, who regarded him with hatred. Then the president put questions to him.

_The President._ You are a thief, a scoundrel, an assassin! You know you committed the crime of which you are accused. You are a villain!

_The Prisoner._ And you--polite.

[_General assent._

_The President (with indignation)._ I will not have you say so! I tell you that I know you entered the room with the pistol. I know that you fired at the deceased. You know you did! Tell me, did you not kill the deceased?

_The Prisoner._ Why should I tell you? Is not your head of wood, M’sieur le Président.

[_General laughter._

_The President (with anger)._ You shall pay dearly for this! You have insulted me--you have insulted the son of my mother--and insulting her son, you have also insulted my mother!

[_A deep murmur._

_The Prisoner (shuddering)._ Oh, no! I deny it! I am not so base!

_The President._ But I tell you you are! I tell you that there is no more wicked man in the world than yourself! You are a poltroon!

[_Murmurs._

_The Prisoner._ And you call the father of my innocent child a poltroon? It is an outrage!

[_General assent._

_The President._ Your appeal to your innocent babe will avail you nothing. Your innocent babe would be better without such a father! (_General Shuddering._) Yes, I mean what I say--you are a craven!

_The Prisoner._ This is too much! I am no craven! I love my country as a mother loves her son.

[_General assent._

_M. le Président._ You insult France when you call yourself her son! You insult the Republic.

[_Loud murmurs._

_The Prisoner._ It is not for you to judge! I know you, M’sieur le Président. Forty years ago you were in the service of the King!

_M. le Président (with a cry)._ You shall be gagged if you utter such calumnies! You are a knave, a vagabond, a cut-throat! And now it is for the jury to decide. Have you anything to say in your defence?

_The Prisoner (to the Jury)._ I have nothing to say, save that I brand this man as a traitor! As for me I ask for liberty in the name of my infant--in the name of my child! I confess I am no saint, and if I _have_ murdered, why in the name of my innocent babe I beg of you to stretch out your hands to me and save me from the scaffold. I wish to return to the world to watch by the side of a cradle!

The jury, who were deeply affected, then retired, and, after two hours’ absence, returned a verdict of Guilty.

_The English Method, reported in a London Paper. End of the First Day._

The prisoner, who was ably represented by counsel, appeared to be deeply sensible of his position. He kept his eyes on the jury during the brief summing up.

His Lordship said that he trusted the jury would give the benefit of any doubt they might feel in the prisoner’s favour. In so serious a case they must not convict unless they were convinced of his guilt. The facts had been carefully laid before them, and he would not say a word to bias them one way or the other. He entreated them to remember that the life of a fellow creature was at stake, and to let that recollection make them desirous to record only what was proper and just. The jury then retired, and, after five minutes’ absence, returned a verdict of Guilty.

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NEW LEGAL DEFINITION.--_A Copyholder._--A compositor.

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LEGAL DISTINCTION.--_Q._ What is the difference between attorney and counsel?

_A._ One is a lawyer, and the other a jawyer.

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“TURNING HIS FLANK”

_Mr. Brisket (the butcher)._ “Good morning, Mr. Chattles! You’re a lawyer, and I want your advice. What can I do with a man whose dog steals some meat from my shop?”

_Mr. Chattles (the lawyer)._ “Demand the value, or summon the owner.”

_Mr. Brisket (triumphantly)._ “Then I want six-and-sixpence from you, sir, or else I’ll summons yer! Your dog there ran away with a piece of mutton o’ that valley from these premises last night!”

_Mr. Chattles._ “Hum--ah--h’m! Then if you’ll hand me over twopence, we shall just be square, Mr. Brisket--as my fee for consultation is six-and-eightpence!!”

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“SAUCE FOR THE COUNSEL GOOSE IS SAUCE FOR SOLOR GANDER”

(_Respectfully dedicated to the Incorporated Law Society and the Bar Committee_)

SCENE--_Interior of the Duke of Ditchwater’s Study._ TIME--_The near Future. PRESENT--His Grace and Mr. Kosts, the Family Solicitor._

_The Duke (finishing a long business talk)._ And I suppose we had better be represented by Mr. Silvertongue, the Queen’s Counsel?

_Mr. Kosts (hesitating)._ Certainly, your Grace, if it is your express wish.

_The Duke (surprised)._ Why, Mr. Kosts, you surely know of no better representative?

_Mr. Kosts (hurriedly)._ Oh no, your Grace. Mr. Silvertongue is a most eloquent advocate, and has the law at his fingers’ ends; but----

_The Duke._ Well? Surely we may entrust ourselves in his hands with perfect confidence? Do you not think so?

_Mr. Kosts._ Oh, certainly, your Grace, certainly. (_Hesitating._) But matters have changed a little lately. There has been an alteration in the law.

_The Duke._ Indeed!

_Mr. Kosts._ Yes, your Grace. The fact is, that the two branches of the legal profession have been amalgamated.

_The Duke._ I don’t quite understand.

_Mr. Kosts._ Why, your Grace, there is now no real distinction between solicitors and barristers, except in name. So I thought, your Grace, that as I could do the work as well, that perhaps I might replace Mr. Silvertongue, and---- You see, it is simply a matter of business.

_The Duke (interrupting)._ Certainly, certainly, Mr. Kosts. No doubt you could represent me admirably. But you see I am afraid Mr. Silvertongue might be a little offended. You know he is a personal friend of mine, and----