The Law and Lawyers of Pickwick Part 3

"Hear, hear," a.s.sented Mr. Pell's client. "Why shouldn't he be?"

"Ah, why, indeed!" said a very red-faced man, who had said nothing yet, and who looked extremely unlikely to say anything more. "Why shouldn't he?"

A murmur of a.s.sent ran through the company.

"I remember, gentlemen," said Mr. Pell, "dining with him on one occasion. There was only us two, but everything as splendid as if twenty people had been expected--the great seal on a dumb-waiter at his right, and a man in a bag-wig and suit of armour guarding the mace with a drawn sword and silk stockings--which is perpetually done, gentlemen, night and day; when he said, 'Pell,' he said, 'no false delicacy, Pell. You're a man of talent; you can get anybody through the Insolvent Court, Pell; and your country should be proud of you.'

Those were his very words. 'My lord,' I said, 'you flatter me.'

'Pell,' he said, 'if I do I'm d.a.m.ned.'"

"Did he say that?" inquired Mr. Weller.

"He did," replied Pell.

"Vell, then," said Mr. Weller, "I say Parliament ought to ha' took it up; and if he'd been a poor man they _would_ ha' done it."

"But, my dear friend," argued Mr. Pell, "it was in confidence."

"In what?" said Mr. Weller.

"In confidence."

"Oh! wery good," replied Mr. Weller, after a little reflection. "If he d.a.m.ned hisself in confidence, o' course that was another thing."

"Of course it was," said Mr. Pell. "The distinction's obvious, you will perceive."

"Alters the case entirely," said Mr. Weller. "Go on, sir."

"No, I will not go on, sir," said Mr. Pell, in a low and serious tone.

"You have reminded me, sir, that this conversation was private--private and confidential, gentlemen. Gentlemen, I am a professional man. It may be that I am a good deal looked up to in my profession--it may be that I am not. Most people know. I say nothing. Observations have already been made in this room injurious to the reputation of my n.o.ble friend. You will excuse me, gentlemen; I was imprudent. I feel that I have no right to mention this matter without his concurrence. Thank you, sir; thank you."

Thus delivering himself, Mr. Pell thrust his hands into his pockets, and, frowning grimly around, rattled three-halfpence with terrible determination.

We hear also of Mrs. Pell.

Mrs. Pell was a tall figure, a splendid woman, with a n.o.ble shape, and a nose, gentlemen, formed to command, gentlemen, and be majestic. She was very much attached to me--very much--highly connected, too. Her mother's brother, gentlemen, failed for eight hundred pounds, as a law stationer.

So we have, ladies and gentlemen, these three types of this honourable profession. To my mind they have never been quite placed in their proper order. Perker has been universally admired and looked up to; Dodson and Fogg have been universally denounced; Mr. Pell has been suffered to remain unnoticed. Well, let us judge fairly the merits of these three gentlemen.

If Mr. Perker had lived to-day instead of in the year 1827, he would undoubtedly have been tried for the part he took in the Eatanswill election. What is the charge, after all, against Messrs. Dodson and Fogg, except that question with regard to poor Ramsey?--which, after all, is only a story told by the clerk Wicks, upon whom I do not think we can place very much reliance. What else did Dodson and Fogg do that should make them the object of obloquy and universal execration? They brought an action for breach of promise of marriage--some people think such actions should never be brought at all--they brought the action for breach of promise of marriage; they made a little arrangement with regard to costs, unprofessional if you like, but still nothing to bring down upon them the denouncement to which they have been made subject. So far as Mr. Pickwick was concerned, he had absolutely nothing to complain of in their conduct; and I venture to say it was most reprehensible in him under the circ.u.mstances to use the language which he did upon the occasion which I have quoted. But against Mr. Pell there is absolutely nothing to be said. He perhaps romanced a little with regard to his friendship with the Lord Chancellor; but which of us would not like to be on friendly terms with the Lord Chancellor? On that trifling exaggeration there is nothing practically to be urged against him; and while I claim for Mr. Pell the position of premier in this matter, I am sorry I have to accord to Mr. Perker the third place.

Well, now, although I would love to linger over Mr. Pell, I must pa.s.s on to say something of the counsel mentioned in this admirable work. But before I consider the more eminent and the more conspicuous of these, there is one member of the Bar who is seldom alluded to, but of whom I wish to say something to-night. I refer to Mr. Prosee. Mr. Prosee very few of you have ever heard of. He dined with Mr. Perker at Montague Place, Russell Square, on one occasion. It must have been rather a dull dinner party, for there were present two good country agents, Mr. Snicks, the Life Office Secretary, Mr. Prosee, the eminent counsel, three solicitors, one Commissioner of Bankrupts, a special pleader from the Temple, a small-eyed, peremptory young gentleman, his pupil, who had written a lively book about the law of demises, with a vast quant.i.ty of marginal notes and references; and several other eminent and distinguished personages, including the Mr. Prosee just mentioned.

Ladies and gentlemen, I do not know how it is, but I have always a.s.sociated Mr. Prosee with the Equity Bar. It may be that his name suggests it.

Well, I come now to the counsel which is better known to you, namely Serjeant Snubbin.

"We've done everything that's necessary," said Mr. Perker. "I have retained Serjeant Snubbin."

"Is he a good man?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

"Good man!" replied Perker. "Bless your heart and soul, my dear sir, Serjeant Snubbin is at the very top of his profession. Gets treble the business of any man in court--engaged in every case. You needn't mention it abroad, but we say--we of the profession--that Serjeant Snubbin leads the court by the nose."

"I should like to see him," said Mr. Pickwick.

"See Serjeant Snubbin, my dear sir!" rejoined Perker, in utter amazement. "Pooh, pooh! my dear sir, impossible! See Serjeant Snubbin! Bless you, my dear sir, such a thing was never heard of without a consultation fee being previously paid, and a consultation fixed. It couldn't be done, my dear sir--it couldn't be done!"

Thus was Mr. Pickwick brought face to face with the difficulty of seeing his own counsel. He could not understand why, having retained the services of a professional man and paid for them, there should exist any impediment to prevent access to him. I won't discuss to-night the advisability or non-advisability of dividing the profession of the law into two parts, but I do say that any system which prevents litigants having the fullest personal communication with those they have paid to represent them is an anomaly and an absurdity.

But Mr. Pickwick was a person of determination, and he did see Serjeant Snubbin, and he delivered to that learned gentleman a short address that was well worthy of his attention, as it is of every member of the Bar, including your very humble servant.

"Gentlemen of your profession, sir," continued Mr. Pickwick, "see the worst side of human nature. All its disputes, all its ill-will and bad blood, rise up before you. You know from your experience of juries (I mean no disparagement to you, or them) how much depends upon _effect_; and you are apt to attribute to others a desire to use, for purposes of deception and self-interest, the very instruments which you, in pure honesty and honour of purpose, and with a laudable desire to do your utmost for your client, know the temper and worth of so well, from constantly employing them yourselves. I really believe that to this circ.u.mstance may be attributed the vulgar but very general notion of your being, as a body, suspicious, distrustful, and overcautious. Conscious as I am, sir, of the disadvantage of making such a declaration to you, under such circ.u.mstances, I have come here, because I wish you distinctly to understand, as my friend Mr. Perker has said, that I am innocent of the falsehood laid to my charge; and although I am very well aware of the inestimable value of your a.s.sistance, sir, I must beg to add that, unless you sincerely believe this, I would rather be deprived of the aid of your talents than have the advantage of them."

The only effect this had upon Serjeant Snubbin was to cause him to ask rather snappishly,--

"Who is with me in this case?"

"Mr. Phunky, Serjeant Snubbin," replied the attorney.

"Phunky, Phunky," said the Serjeant, "I never heard the name before.

He must be a very young man."

"Yes, he is a very young man," replied the attorney. "He was only called the other day. Let me see--he has not been at the Bar eight years yet."

"Ah, I thought not," said the Serjeant, in that sort of pitying tone in which ordinary folks would speak of a very helpless little child.

"Mr. Mallard, send round to Mr.--Mr.--"

"Phunky's--Holborn Court, Gray's Inn," interposed Perker. (Holborn Court, by-the-bye, is South Square now.)

"Mr. Phunky, and say I should be glad if he'd step here a moment."

Mr. Mallard departed to execute his commission, and Serjeant Snubbin relapsed into abstraction until Mr. Phunky himself was introduced.

Although an infant barrister he was a full-grown man. He had a very nervous manner, and a painful hesitation in his speech; it did not appear to be a natural defect, but seemed rather the result of timidity, arising from the consciousness of being "kept down" by want of means, or interest, or connection, or impudence, as the case might be. He was overawed by the Serjeant, and profoundly courteous to the attorney.

"I have not had the pleasure of seeing you before, Mr. Phunky," said Serjeant Snubbin, with haughty condescension.

Mr. Phunky bowed. He _had_ had the pleasure of seeing the Serjeant, and of envying him too, with all a poor man's envy, for eight years and a quarter.

"You are with me in this case, I understand?" said the Serjeant.

If Mr. Phunky had been a rich man he would have instantly sent for his clerk to remind him; if he had been a wise one he would have applied his forefinger to his forehead, and endeavoured to recollect whether, in the multiplicity of his engagements, he had undertaken this one or not; but as he was neither rich nor wise (in this sense, at all events) he turned red and bowed.

"Have you read the papers, Mr. Phunky?" inquired the Serjeant.

Here again Mr. Phunky should have professed to have forgotten all about the merits of the case; but as he had read such papers as had been laid before him in the course of the action, and had thought of nothing else, waking or sleeping, throughout the two months during which he had been retained as Mr. Serjeant Snubbin's junior, he turned a deeper red and bowed again.

"This is Mr. Pickwick," said the Serjeant, waving his pen in the direction in which that gentleman was standing.

Mr. Phunky bowed to Mr. Pickwick with a reverence which a first client must ever awaken, and again inclined his head towards his leader.