Chapter L: Our Noble Calling

THE LEGAL PROFESSION--TAKEN BY SURPRISE--MISSING THE POINT OF THE JOKE--A REMARKABLE INCIDENT--A JUDICIAL DECISION ON BAPTISM--A DOUBTFUL COMPLIMENT--STRONG PERSONAL ATTACHMENT--IRISH WIT--ENGLISH JOKES ABOUT LAWYERS--GREATNESS UNAPPRECIATED--ALL IN HIS WIFE'S NAME--A RETORT BY CURRAN--REMITTING A FINE--A CASE "ON ALL-FOURS"-- "GOING OUT WITH THE TIDE."

As we well know, lawyers generally entertain an exceedingly exalted opinion of their profession. Textbooks, opinions of courts, addresses innumerable to graduating students, all bear witness to the fact that our noble profession is the most honorable of human callings, the safeguard of society, the palladium of our liberty.

True, some uncharitable layman has suggested: "Yes, all this, and more, has been said a thousand times, _but always by lawyers."_

There are persons yet in life, who, practically at least, hold with Aaron Burr, that "law is that which is boldly asserted and plausibly maintained," and that lawyers, like the Roman augurs of old, always smile when they meet one another on the street. The by no means exalted opinion of two men as to "our noble profession" will appear from the following.

A few days after Knott was admitted to the bar, he was sitting alone in his office, waiting for clients, when a one-gallowsed, awkward-looking fellow from the "brush" walked in without ceremony, dropped into the only vacant chair, and inquired: "Air you a lawyer, mister?" Assuming the manner of one of the regulars, Knott unhesitatingly answered that he was. "Well," said the visitor, "I thought I would drap in and git you to fetch a few suits for me." Picking up his pen with the air of a man with whom suing people was an everyday, matter-of-course sort of affair, Knott said: "Who did you wish to sue?" To which--with a prolonged yawn--the prospective client drawled out: "I ain't particular, Mister, I jest thought I'd get you to pick out a few skerry fellows _that would complemise easy!"_

The remaining incident is an experience of my own, when, at the age of twenty-two, I had hung out my sign in the then county-seat of Old Woodford.

My first client had retained me to obtain a divorce because of abandonment during the two years last past by the sometime partner of his joys and sorrows. The bill for divorce was duly filed; but on "the coming in of the answer," a continuance of the suit, for cause shown, was granted to the defendant.

At an early hour on the morning thereafter, my client called, and I soon discovered he was in a frame of mind by no means joyous. The disappointment he expressed at the continuance of his suit was evidently sincere. My explanation of the impossibility of preventing it, and the confident hope I held out that he would certainly get his divorce at the next term, evidently gave him little relief. He at length intimated a desire to have a confidential talk with me. I took him into my "private office" (that has a professional sound, but as a matter of fact my office had but one room, and that was "open as day" to everybody) and assured him that whatever he said to me would be in the strictest confidence. Feeling that I was on safe ground, I now spoke in a lofty tone of the sacred relation existing between counsel and client, and that any communication he desired to make would be as safe as within his own bosom, "or words to that effect." Relieved, apparently, by the atmosphere of profound secrecy that now enveloped us, he "unfolded himself" to the effect that some years before he had been deeply in love with an excellent young lady in his neighborhood, but for some trifling cause he could now hardly explain, he had in a pique suddenly turned his attentions to another to whom he was soon united in the holy bonds that he was now so anxious to have sundered by the strong arm of the law.

A deeply drawn sigh was here the prelude to the startling revelation, that since his present sea of troubles had encompassed him about the old flame had been rekindled in his heart. I now candidly informed him that I was wholly inexperienced in such matters, but as his counsel I would take the liberty to advise him of the monstrous impropriety of any visible manifestation or expression of the newly revived attachment. This was followed by the comforting assurance upon my part, however, that when divorced, he would be lawfully entitled to re-enter the matrimonial lists in such direction, and at whatever gait seemed to him best. The sigh to which the above was the prelude, hardly prepared me for the startling revelation that another fellow was now actually keeping company with the young lady. My client's feelings here overcame him for a moment, and he complained bitterly of his hard fate in being "tied up," while the coast was clear to his competitor. After a moment of deep study, he expressed the opinion in substance, that if his rival could only be held in check until the divorce was granted, he was confident all would be well.

I here told him that this was all beyond my depth, and along a line where it would be impossible for me to render him any service. Hitching his chair up a little closer, and looking at me earnestly he said: "You are a good-looking young fellow, and rather a glib talker, and I will give you this hundred dollars if you will cut that fellow out until I get my divorce!" Declining with some show of indignation, as well as surprise--for I was _young_ then in the practice--I assured him that his proposal was out of the domain of professional service, and could not be thought of for a moment. In a tone indicating deep astonishment, he said: "Why, I thought a lawyer would do anything for money!"

"Yes," I replied, "most anything, but this is the exception; and besides, if the young lady is as beautiful as you say she is, you would be _in greater danger from me_ at the end of your probation than from the other fellow." "Oh, Lord, I hadn't thought of that," he exclaimed, as he pocketed his hundred dollars, picked up his hat, and left my office.

Near the close of the following term of court, as the decree was being signed granting the divorce aforementioned, I approached my client as he sat solitary in the rear of the court-room, and earnestly congratulated him upon the fact that he was now free and at liberty to fight his own battles. "Yes," he replied, with a groan that touched the heart of the tipstaff near by, "but it's too late now; _she married that other fellow last Thursday."_

TAKEN BY SURPRISE

Upon a time, far back, Ballou, of happy memory, was Judge of the Woodford Circuit Court. A young lawyer, after diligent preparation and exhaustive argument, confidently submitted his first case to the tender mercies of the Court. To his utter dismay, His Honor promptly rendered a decision adverse to the contention of the youthful barrister. Deeply humiliated by his defeat, the latter exclaimed: "I am _astonished_ at such a decision!" The admonition of a brother, to patience, failing to accomplish its charitable purpose, the irate attorney asservated more excitedly than before, his astonishment at such a decision. Whereupon the judge ordered the clerk to enter up a fine of five dollars against the offending attorney for contempt of court. Silence now reigned supreme, and the victim of judicial wrath sank back into his seat, utterly dismayed. The strain of the situation was at length relieved in part by an old lawyer from the opposite side of the trial table, slowly arising and solemnly remarking: "Something might be said, Your Honor, in extenuation of the conduct of my young friend. It is his first case, one in which he felt the deepest interest, and upon the successful issue of which, he had founded his fondest hopes. I trust Your Honor, upon due reflection, will remit this fine. It is true, he has with much vehemence expressed his astonishment at the decision of the Court. But his youth and inexperience must surely be taken into account. Ah, Your Honor, when our young brother has practised before this court as long as some of us have, _he will not be surprised at any decision Your Honor may make!"_

THE POINT OF THE JOKE

Sydney Smith is credited with saying that it required a surgical operation to get a joke into a Scotchman's head. And not a bad reply is that of the Scotchman: "Yes, an _English_ joke."

It is unnecessary, however, to cross the Atlantic in order to find a few well authenticated cases where the surgical operation would have been required. The Hon. Samuel H. Treat, United States Judge of Southern Illinois, was one of the ablest and most upright of judges, and possibly--on or off the bench--the most solemn-appearing of all of the sons of men.

This little incident was related by Judge Weldon. Soon after the close of the War, he one day told Judge Treat a story he had heard upon a recent visit to Washington. McDougall, formerly of Illinois, but at that time a Senator from California, had become very dissipated near the close of his term. At a late hour one night a policeman on the Avenue found him in an utterly helpless condition--literally in the gutter. As the officer was making an ineffectual attempt to get the unfortunate statesman upon his feet, he inquired: "Who are you?" The reply was: "This morning I was Senator McDougall, but now I am _Sewered!"_

A few moments later Mr. Hay came into the office and Judge Treat said: "Hay, Weldon has just told me a good story about our old friend McDougall. Mac was in the gutter, and a policeman asked him who he was, and Mac told him, 'This morning I was Senator McDougall, but now I am the Hon. William H. Seward!'"

AN INCIDENT

Upon the occasion of the celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of the organization of the City of Bloomington, the oration was delivered by the Hon. James S. Ewing, late Minister to Belgium. In the course of his address, he related the following incident:

"In the early history of this county, two boys one day went into the old courthouse to hear a lawsuit tried. There were assembled eight young lawyers, not all of them engaged in the trial, but giving strict attention to the proceedings. It was not a suit of great importance.

"The Court was presided over by Samuel H. Treat, who afterwards became a United States District Judge and one of the most distinguished lawyers and jurists in the State.

"One of the lawyers was David Davis, first a noted lawyer, then a circuit judge, then a judge of the Supreme Court of the United States, then a United States Senator and acting President of the Senate; a citizen of State and national fame whom the people of Bloomington loved and delighted to honor.

"Another was John T. Stuart, a brilliant lawyer, several times a member of Congress, and one of the most lovable of men.

"Another one was David B. Campbell, then the prosecuting attorney and afterwards a prominent lawyer and citizen of Springfield.

"Another was Edward D. Baker, who was afterwards a United State Senator from Oregon; a famous orator who immortalized himself by his marvellous oration over Senator Broderick.

"Another was James A. McDougall, a brilliant Irishman, afterwards a United States Senator from the State of California.

"And Abraham Lincoln, who has passed beyond the domain of human praise into the pantheon of universal history.

"I might add that one of those boys afterwards became the Vice-President of the United States; and the other is your speaker.

"Speaking to any audience in America, I might say in the world, I doubt if such an incident could be truthfully related of any other gathering."

A JUDICIAL DECISION ON BAPTISM

It is rarely the case that a Court is called upon to decide questions of a purely theological character. Of necessity, however--property interests being involved,--controversies, measurably of a religious character, sometimes arise for judicial determination.

The case to be mentioned is probably the only one where "baptism"-- the true mode and manner thereof--has ever come squarely before an American judge. A man under sentence of death for murder was awaiting execution in the jail of one of the counties in northern Kentucky. Under the ministrations of the pastor of the Baptist Church, the prisoner at length made "the good confession" and desired to be baptized. To this end, the faithful pastor applied to the circuit judge before whom the prisoner had been tried, for permission to have the rite observed in the Kentucky River near by. The judge--more deeply versed in "Blackstone" and "Ben Monroe" than in theological lore--declined to have the prisoner removed from the jail, but gave permission to have him baptized in the cell. The physical impossibility of the observance of the solemn rite in the prisoner's cell was at once explained. "Certainly," said the judge in reply, "I know there is no room in there to baptize him that way; but take a bowl of water and sprinkle him right where he is confined." "But," earnestly interposed the man of the sacred office, "our church does not recognize sprinkling as valid baptism. We hold _immersion_ to be the only Scriptural method." "Is it possible?" exclaimed the judge, greatly surprised. "Well, this Court decides that sprinkling _is_ valid baptism; and I tell you once for all, that that infernal scoundrel will be sprinkled, _or he will be hung without being baptized at all!"_

Inasmuch as this decision has never been _overruled_ by a higher court, it stands as the only judicial determination of the long-controverted question.

A DOUBTFUL COMPLIMENT

Mr. Clark was the leader of the Metamora Bar when I located there-- _and so continued._ My first case, and the compliment of somewhat doubtful significance bestowed upon its termination, came about in this wise. I was retained for the plaintiff before Squire Fairchild in a suit involving the ownership of a calf of the alleged value of seven dollars. It being my first case, and having the aforementioned leader as my professional antagonist--and what was of far greater consequence, a contingent fee of two dollars and a half trembling in the balance--it may well be supposed that no effort was spared upon my part. I won the case, of course--_what lawyer ever told about a case that he had not won?_

The same evening a little group in the village store were discussing the merits of the case, and comparing the forensic effort of the new lawyer with that of the old-time leader already mentioned. At length one Tobias Wilson, as he slid down from his accustomed perch upon the counter, significantly observed, "Men, you may say what you please, but for my part, I had ruther hear Stevenson speak _two_ minutes _than to hear old Clark all day!"_

STRONG PERSONAL ATTACHMENT

Mr. Clark--whose early advantages had been none of the best--was once counsel for the proponent in a closely contested will case. The testator, passing by the next of kin, had left his entire estate to a personal friend, a man not of his own blood.

In attempting to impress upon the jury the reasonableness of this disposition, Clark said: "This, gentlemen of the jury, is another striking illustration of the power of human friendship. All history--sacred and profane--is full of instances of strong personal attachments. Who can ever forget the undying affection of David and Jonathan, of Damon and Pythias, _of Scylla and Charybdis?"_

IRISH WIT

Judge Baldwin has left of record the witty reply of Jo Heyfron, an Irish lawyer, to a Mississippi judge. The judge, having rendered a very ridiculous decision in a cause in which Heyfron was engaged, the latter slowly arose as if to address the Court. The judge, exceedingly pompous and a poor lawyer withal, in imperative tone said: "Take your seat, Mr. Heyfron; you have practised at this bar long enough to know that when this Court renders a decision, its wisdom can only be called in question in a higher Court."

"If Your Honor plase," replied Jo in deprecatory tone, "far be it from me to impugn in the slightest degray the wisdom of Your Honor's decision. I only designed to rade a few lines from the book I hold in my hand, in order that Your Honor might parsave _how profoundly aignorant Sir William Blackstone was upon this subject!"_

It is difficult, at this day, to realize that such scenes could ever have been enacted in an English Court, as were not infrequent during the era embracing the celebrated "State Trials." While one of these was in progress, and Curran in the midst of his argument, the judge contemptuously turned his back upon the advocate, and began fondling a favorite dog at his side. The argument was at once suspended. "Proceed, sir," were the words which at length broke the stillness that had fallen upon the vast assemblage. "Ah!" exclaimed Curran, "I was only waiting for Your Lordship _to conclude your consultation with your learned associate!"_

ENGLISH JOKES ABOUT LAWYERS

Possibly the most solemn book in the world, not excepting Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy," or even "Fearne on Contingent Remainders," is an English publication of a half-century or so ago, entitled "Jokes about Great Lawyers."

Of several hundred alleged jokes, two or three will bear transplanting.

"My Lord," began a somewhat pompous barrister, "it is written the book of nature ----" "Be kind enough," interposed Lord Ellenborough, "to give me the _page_ from which you quote."

To the opening remark of an equally pompous barrister:

"My Lord, the unfortunate client for whom I appear ----" "Proceed sir, proceed," hastily observed the judge, _"so far the court is with you!"_

Ellenborough, when at the bar, after protracting his argument to the hour of adjournment, said that he would conclude when it should suit His Lordship's _pleasure_ to hear him.

The immediate reply was: "The Court will hear you, sir, to-morrow; but as to the pleasure, _that_ had long been out of the question."

GREATNESS UNAPPRECIATED

Gibbon has somewhere said, that one of the liveliest pleasures which the pride of man can enjoy is to reappear in a more splendid condition among those who have known him in his obscurity.

A case in point is a lawyer of prominence in one of the Western States, who soon after his appointment to a seat in the Cabinet revisited his early home. Meeting an acquaintance upon his arrival at the railway station, the visitor, with emotions akin to those described by Gibbon, ventured to inquire what his old neighbors said when they heard of him being appointed to a place in the Cabinet.

The unexpected reply was: "Oh, they didn't say nothin'; _they just laughed!"_

ALL IN HIS WIFE'S NAME

The late Colonel Lynch was for many years the recognized wit of the Logan County Bar. His repeated efforts, upon a time, to collect a judgment against a somewhat slippery debtor, were unavailing; the claim of the wife of the debtor, to the property attached, in each instance proving successful. Immeasurably disgusted at the "unsatisfied" return of the third writ, the Colonel indignantly exclaimed: "Yes, and I suppose if he should get religion, he would hold _that, too,_ in his wife's name!"

A RETORT BY CURRAN

The stinging retort of the Irish advocate Curran is recalled. At the close of his celebrated encounter with one of the most overbearing of English judges, the latter insultingly remarked to the somewhat diminutive advocate: "I could put you in my pocket, sir." To which, with the quickness of a lightning flash, Curran retorted: "If you did, Your Lordship would have more law in your pocket _than you ever had in your head!"_

Fiercely indignant, the judge replied: "Another word, and I will commit you, sir." To which Curran fearlessly retorted: "Do, and it will be the best thing Your Lordship _has committed this term!"_

REMITTING A FINE

About every courthouse in the "Blue Grass" still linger traditions of the late Thomas F. Marshall. For him Nature did well her part. He was a genius if one ever walked this earth. Tall, erect, handsome, of commanding presence, and with intellectual endowment such as is rarely vouchsafed to man, no place seemed beyond his reach. Having in addition the prestige of family, that counted for much, and being the possessor of inherited wealth, it indeed seemed that to one man "fortune had come with both of her hands full." The successor of Clay and Crittenden as Representative for the Ashland District, a peerless orator upon the hustings, at the bar, and in the Great Hall, his life went out in sorrow and disappointment.

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen
The saddest are these, 'It might have been!'"

His eulogy upon the gifted and lamented Menifee, the tribute of genius to genius, belongs to the realm of the loftiest eloquence, and seldom have words of deeper pathos been written than his own obituary --"Poor Tom's a-cold"--by George D. Prentice.

As to why that which seemed so full of promise "turned to ashes upon the lips," the following will explain. Meeting his kinsman, the Rev. Dr. Breckenridge, he said: "Bob, when you and I graduated, you took to the pulpit and I to the bottle, and _I have stuck to my text a good deal closer than you have to yours!"_

Not inaptly has hell been described as "disqualification in the face of opportunity."

Bearing in mind Marshall's invariable habit of _not_ paying his debts, the point of the closing remark of the judge in the incident to be related will appear. Marshall was engaged in the defence of a man charged with murder in a county some distance from his own home. Failing repeatedly in his attempt to introduce certain testimony excluded by the Court, he at length exclaimed:

"It was upon just such rulings as that that Jesus Christ was convicted."

"Mr. Clerk, enter up a fine of ten dollars against Mr. Marshall for contempt of court," was the prompt response of the judge.

"Well," said Marshall, "this is the first time in a Christian country I have ever heard of a _man being fined for abusing Pontius Pilate!"_

"Mr. Clerk," said the judge, with scarcely suppressed indignation, "enter up a fine of twenty-five dollars against Mr. Marshall for contempt of court, and the further order that he be imprisoned in the common jail of the county until the fine and costs are paid."

The death-like stillness that fell upon the assemblage was at length broken by Mr. Marshall arising and gravely addressing the Court.

"If Your Honor please, I am engaged in the trial of an important case, one where human life may depend upon my efforts. I have just been fined twenty-five dollars and ordered to be imprisoned until the fine is paid. Upon a careful examination of my pockets, I find that I have not that amount _nor any other amount_ about my person. I am more than one hundred miles from home and among strangers. In looking over this audience, I find but one familiar face, that of Your Honor. I am therefore constrained to request Your Honor, as an old and cherished friend, _to lend me_ the amount necessary to discharge this fine."

Instantly the judge exclaimed: "Remit that fine, Mr. Clerk; _the State is more able to lose it than I am."_

A CASE "ON ALL-FOURS"

Near two-thirds of a century ago, one of the best-known lawyers in Illinois was Justin Butterfield. He was one of the most eloquent of the gifted Whig leaders of the State when the list included such names as Lincoln, Stuart, Hardin, Browning, Baker, and Linder. He was the earnest champion of General Zachary Taylor for the Presidency in 1848, and his party devotion was rewarded by appointment to the commissionership of the General Land Office. The only appointment for which Mr. Lincoln was ever an applicant was that given to Butterfield soon after the inauguration of President Taylor.

Of few lawyers have brighter things ever been told than of Justin Butterfield. During the fierce anti-Mormon excitement-- which resulted in the destruction of the Nauvoo Temple and the expulsion of the Mormons from the State--the "Prophet," Joseph Smith, was placed upon trial for an alleged felony. The Hon. Nathaniel Pope was the presiding judge, and Butterfield counsel for Smith. A large audience, including many elegantly dressed ladies, was in attendance.

When he arose to address the Court, Butterfield with great dignity began:

"I am profoundly impressed with the solemnity of the situation and the awful responsibility resting upon me. I stand in the presence of his Holiness the Pope, surrounded by angels, _to speak in defence of the Lord's anointed Prophet!"_

While in active practice, Butterfield was upon one occasion opposing counsel to the Hon. David A. Smith in the Supreme Court of the State. The latter had concluded his argument and with head resting upon the table in front, had fallen asleep while Butterfield was speaking. A gleam of sunlight which had found its way through the window opposite, had fallen upon the very bald head of Smith, causing it to shine with unwonted brilliancy. Suddenly pausing and with arm extended toward his sleeping antagonist, Butterfield solemnly observed:

"The light shineth upon the darkness _and the darkness comprehendeth it not!"_

As the Old State Bank was about to expire by reason of limitation, the General Assembly passed a bill extending its corporate life fifteen years. In litigation in which Butterfield was counsel, the legal effect of the Act mentioned being involved, the opposing counsel insisted that the legal effect of said Act was the creation of a _new_ bank. Butterfield in reply insisted that "a new bank had not been created, but simply the life of the old one prolonged. A case in point, your Honor, precisely 'on all-fours' with this, is the well-authenticated one of the good Hezekiah when the Lord lengthened out his life fifteen years for meritorious conduct. Now, sir, did he thereby make a _new_ Hezekiah, _or did he leave him just the same old Hezekiah?"_

"GOING OUT WITH THE TIDE"

Soldier, lawyer, and wit was Colonel Phil Lee of Kentucky. When it is borne in mind that he was of exceedingly small stature the following incident--one he often related--will be appreciated.

Immediately upon attaining his majority he was a candidate for the Legislature. On election day he was quietly seated on a barrel in the room where the election for his precinct was being conducted, when an old Deacon from the Tan Bark settlement came in to vote. His choice for the State officers and for Sheriff was called out after some little parleying as to who were the _best men,_ and the voter was about to retire, when one of the judges said,

"Deacon, ain't you going to vote for a candidate for the Legislature?"

"Yas, of course, I like to forgot all about that; who is running for the Legislature?"

At which Phil, hopping down from the barrel, said, "Deacon, I am a candidate."

"Who, _you?"_ inquired the Deacon--with half contemptuous gaze at the diminutive-looking aspirant; then turning to the judge he said, _"Just put me down for the other fellow!"_

Admitted to the bar at Shepherdsville in his native county of Bullitt, when barely of age, his first appearance was as attorney for the plaintiff in a breach-of-promise case of much local celebrity. His speech held the jury and by-standers literally spellbound, and it was confidently asserted that the classic banks of Salt River will probably never witness such flights of eloquence again. At its close Phil was warmly congratulated by an old Squire from the "Rolling Fork."

"Phil, that was a mighty fine speech, a mighty fine speech, Phil, now mind, I tell you. That speech reminded me of Henry Clay."

At the first mention of _that_ name, the Squire was promptly invited out to take a drink. The first round of hospitality happily concluded, Phil was in readiness for any additional observations from the Squire.

"Yes, Phil, when you kinder rared back and throwed your right hand straight up, thinks I, Henry Clay, Henry Clay!"

Whereupon the Squire was without unnecessary delay invited to take another drink. This accomplished, the Squire still held the floor.

"Yes, Phil, yes, Phil, todes the last when you made that big swoop with both arms and 'peared like you was gwyen right up to the rafters, thinks I, Shore 'nough, Henry Clay come back from his grave!"

As flesh and blood could not stand everything, the old Squire was promptly invited to take another drink. Number three being property placed to his credit, the Squire continued:

"Yes, Phil, you peared to me to be Henry Clay right over again _with jist one leetle difference."_

At this Mr. Lee, curious to know what could be the _one_ possible little difference, when there were so many points of resemblance between two such orators as himself and Henry Clay, ventured to inquire. "I think," said the Squire, "this, Phil,--_you peared to kinder lack his ideas!"_

And now comes the tragic ending of a brilliant career. Lee, while Commonwealth's attorney, was in the last stages of that dread disease, consumption. A murder case was on trial in which he felt a deep interest. The case was one of unusual atrocity, and the accused--a man of some local prominence--had been exceedingly defiant towards the wan and emaciated prosecuting attorney from its beginning. With much difficulty Colonel Lee succeeded in getting to the court-room in order to make the closing speech to the jury. Utterly exhausted,--after depicting the horrible crime in all its enormity and demanding the extreme penalty of the law upon its perpetrator,--at its close, in tones that touched the hearts of all who heard him, he exclaimed:

"Gentlemen of the jury, I have prosecuted the pleas of this Commonwealth until the blood has dried up in my veins, and the flesh has perished from my bones!"

These were his _last_ words--and his life went out that same night just as the clock struck twelve. At the self-same hour the steps of the jury were heard slowly ascending to the court-room which had witnessed his last effort--their verdict, _"Guilty, the penalty, death!"_