The Man in Court

by Frederic DeWitt Wells

The lawyer waits about the courthouse for his case to be reached. It may take days or even weeks before it is marked ready. He wastes his time. The witnesses have been subp[oe]naed. They have to be told to come again the next day. There is little money in it for the lawyer. Office practice pays better than court work and except for the eminent pleaders there is but small honor.

During the trial the lawyer seems to be sparring. He takes the attitude of saying: "I want that point of law decided; it is such a nice point, it ought to be settled." As a matter of fact he only wants it settled in his own favor. It is not the abstract interest but the concrete fact in which he is interested.

The lawyer is vigilant from the beginning of the trial to the end. After the case is marked ready he watches the jury, the other side, and the judge; any movement may be of importance; if it escapes his notice he may lose his whole case. It is not safe for him to go on the assumption that the other side is as honest as he is. If they should attempt to put in some evidence that is not proper, to offer a paper that is not duly authenticated, to try by some trick or device to take an unfair advantage, he must be ready to pounce upon the incident. If he is quick he may turn it to the advantage of his own side.

The other lawyer among a bundle of letters offers one that is only a copy or is not signed. The lawyer notices it but keeps still and when at the proper time calls the attention of the judge and the jury to the fact, the plain implication is that the other side must have a very weak case if it needs bolstering up by such methods as this. The argument is that he let the paper go in without objection because he thought the matter trivial anyway, and he wanted the jury to see the underhand method of the other side.

The indefinable quality of personal magnetism is of much vaunted importance. It is like that horrid word, charm; no one knows what it means and seems to have a supernatural quality. The trial lawyer does not need either charm or magnetism. They are both nonsense. Like actors or fighters if they are sufficiently trained in their parts or know how to use their weapons, the lawyers' personal magnetism over judge and jury will come of itself. The judge is a fairly hard-hearted person. The jury may be governed by sentiment but they are an example of the average man and neither are going to be caught by smile or mannerisms. Sound qualities will prevail.

A fine-looking trial lawyer who thoroughly knew his business once had a hard case. His appearance and manner impressed the jury. They followed his every motion. The trial was long and tiresome. It was the days of those little iron puzzles to get two rings or anchors apart; occasionally he would take one out of his pocket and begin playing with it. The jury would follow him with their eyes to see whether he could do it. Whenever he thought the evidence for the other side was getting too interesting, out would come the little iron puzzle and the jury would pay more attention to its solution than to the witness on the stand. He won his case but that is no reason to recommend the playing of "Pigs in Clover" in the court-room. The reason he won the case was because he was the capable man and on the job.

The lawyers' profession is not a creative one but the value in the social structure is cohesive. He brings together the investor and the manufacturer, he amalgamates capital and labor on a sound legal basis. He adjusts conditions to the laws and laws to the conditions. His is the most large-minded of the professions. He is theoretically the layer of the law. In every community the eminent lawyer is the eminent citizen. No one commands greater respect. But there is no doubt that the inefficient administration of justice is the fault, to a large extent, of the legal profession.

The fine, kind face of the lawyer who, ripe in years and understanding, beams a genial smile is a living reproach to the detractors of his profession. Painstaking, scrupulous, broad-minded, and intelligent, with a twinkle of humor for the frailities of humanity, he looks on the pettiness of men with a wise tolerance. Beneath his ease of manner and cordiality of intercourse there lies a world of experience, of battles fought and won, of inherent force of character, of public honors received and gracefully borne. There are no limits to the admiration and love to which he is entitled.

Beside the lawyer, and watching him with worried eyes, sits the client, who unless he is in the wrong really wants the lawyer to bring out the facts in the case rather than to have him exhibit his qualities as a fighter.