The notion that disregard for truth is an advantage to a lawyer is, of all the spiteful commonplaces which people take a foolish pleasure in repeating upon the subject, the most absurd. A man suspected of that vice is never trusted, either by the judges or by the bar; and no one who does not know by practical experience how much the despatch of business depends on the existence of such confidence can estimate the loss which the want of it inflicts. Suppose a judge detects a lawyer in misstating the effect of an affidavit, and on all subsequent occasions insists on reading his affidavits straight through,—is that likely to make him a pleasant person to deal with? Suppose that after giving a promise to the counsel on the other side to produce a particular witness, or to make a particular admission, he refuses to do so,—is he likely to be trusted with confidence in return?
The simple truth is that advocacy is neither more nor less moral than other professions. It is a practical expedient devised as the best mode of doing a very difficult thing; namely, administering the law. It shares with all other human pursuits the reproach of doing harm, though on the whole it does good. It possesses a high and strict standard of professional morality, which is, however, evaded by a noisy and conspicuous section of its members; and it gives its prizes to those who have the intellectual and physical strength to win them; but in attaining them the possession of the principal moral virtues are a considerable, though not an indispensable, assistance.—Cornhill Magazine.
CAUSES CÉLÈBRES.
VII.
ÉLIÇABIDE.
[1840.]
ON the 17th of March in the year 1840 an immense crowd surrounded the entrance to the morgue in Paris. It was noon, and scarcely two hours before, the dead body of a little child had been borne to this building upon a stretcher. Already, from the city and its suburbs, a great throng had been attracted to the place, drawn thither by a lively curiosity mingled with a feeling of deep compassion. It was said that this child had been murdered under the most mysterious and horrible circumstances.
Early in the morning of the same day two gardeners, walking along a road near the Rue de Flanders, on the border of the village of Villette, saw, in a ditch used for the drainage of the village, the body of a child apparently about ten years of age. The little one's head was almost severed from the body by a deep cut, and the skull was frightfully crushed.
The two men at once hastened to M. Moulion, the Commissary of Police, and reported what they had seen. This official immediately proceeded to the spot, and began an inquest in which he was assisted by M. Croissant, Procureur du Roi. A hasty examination led the magistrates to strange conclusions.
The little victim had a pretty face, some what sunburned; his limbs were slender and well formed. He was neatly clothed in garments, almost new, which seemed to indicate that he belonged to the family of some well-to-do person of the middle class. Near the head, in the ditch, was found a cap lined with red. Around the neck, between the jacket and the shirt, was suspended, by a rubber
