The Seven Lamps of Advocacy

by Sir Edward Abbott Parry

Abraham Lincoln had a genius for seeing the real point of his case and putting it straight to the Court. A contemporary who was asked in later life what was Lincoln’s trick with the jury replied, “He saw the kernel of every case at the outset, never lost sight of it, and never let it escape the jury. That was the only trick I ever saw him play.”

Sir Henry Hawkins held the same view. He used to say, “Concentration is the art of argument. If you are diffuse, you will be cut up in detail.” And he was fond of quoting the teachings of Denman on this subject: “Remember also to put forward your best points first, for the weak ones are very likely to prejudice the good ones if they take the lead. It would be better advice to say never bring them forward at all, because they are useless.”

Johnny Williams, who appeared with Brougham and Denman for Queen Caroline, was a man of great sagacity, but much given to strong expletives. He was once induced by an attorney, against his own better judgment, to ask a question, the answer to which convicted his client on a capital charge. The circuit considered he was well justified, when the trial was over, in turning to the attorney and saying with great emphasis (formal expletives omitted), “Go home, cut your throat, and when you meet your client in hell, beg his pardon.”

But an apology was also due from Williams for surrendering his judgment to that of his attorney.

In nothing does the advocate more openly exhibit want of judgment than in prolixity. Modern courts of justice are blamed by the public, not wholly without cause, for the length and consequent expense of trials. To poor people this may mean a denial of justice. No one desires that the judge should constantly interfere with counsel in the discharge of their duties, but it seems to be his duty on occasion to blow his whistle and point out to the combatants that they are offside.

If every one connected with the trial of an action were to train and use his judgment and co-operate with the judgments of his fellow-workers in a policy of anti-waste, a great reproach would be lifted from our courts of justice.

Prolixity is no new disease. Many wise judges have sought to eradicate it. In the time of Charles II. things seem to have been in a specially bad way, and Lord Guildford, though he probably went to dangerous extremes, was well thought of by the public for his endeavour to speed up the legal machine.

“In his lordship’s conduct of trials he was very careful of three matters: 1. To adjust what was properly the question, and to hold the counsel to that; for he that has the worst end of the staff, is very apt to fling off from the point and go out of the right way of the cause. 2. To keep the counsel in order; for in trials they have their parts and their times. His lordship used frequently to inculcate to counsel the decorum of evidencing practice. 3. To keep down repetition, to which the counsel, one after another, are very propense; and, in speeching to the jury one and the same matter over and over again, the waste of time would be so great that, if the judge gave way to it, there would scarce be an end; for most of the talk was not so much for the causes as for their own sakes, to get credit in the country for notable talkers. And his lordship often told them that their confused harangues disturbed the order of his thoughts; and, after the trial was over, it was very hard for him to resume his method and direct the jury to comprise all the material parts of the evidence. Therefore he was positive not to permit more than one counsel of a side to speech it to the jury, by way of summing up the evidence; and he permitted that in such a way as made them weary of it. For, in divers sorts of trials, he wholly retrenched it; and where he observed much stiffness and zeal of the parties in a cause, then, after the evidence was over, he would say, ‘Come, make your speeches;’ and then sat him down: and that looked with a sort of contempt of their talents, which gave them a distrust, and discomposed their extempore so much that, for the most part, they said, ‘No, we will leave it to your lordship.’ And thus the abuse, by fastidious talk, wore away; and the practice before him was so well known, as it became at length a pure management of evidence and argument of law.”

The judgment of an advocate may be called upon at any moment for a sudden decision that may mean the victory or defeat of his client. For this reason it is necessary that he should be always alert. The contents of his brief must be already in his mind, and his attention must be fixed on what is happening in court, which has rarely been foreseen in the best-prepared brief ever delivered to counsel.

It was Russell who turned round to his junior and said, “What are you doing?”