826 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF
The Serjeant tried to look gravely at the fire, but the smile came back again.
" 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 pur- poses 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 circumstance may be attributed the vulgar but very general notion of your being, as a body, suspicious, distrustful, and over-cautious. Conscious as I am. Sir, of the disadvantage of making such a declara- tion to you, under such circumstances, 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 assistance, 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."
Long before the close of this address, which we are bound to say was of a very prosy character for Mr. Pickwick, the Serjeant had relapsed into a state of abstraction. After some minutes, however, during which he had reassumed his pen, he appeared to be again aware of the pre- sence of his clients ; and, raising his head from the paper, said, rather snappishly —
" Who's 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 — oh, he hasn't 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— (Hoi born 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 Serjeat Snubbin relapsed into abstraction until Mr. Phunky himself wa» 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 connexion, 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.
