Volume 2 — From The St. James Magazine. LAW AND LITERATURE.

Notwithstanding the seeming incongruity, there subsists a very intimate connection between law and literature. To the legal profession, more than any other, we are indebted for the magnitude and splendor of our literature. Nor is it only with one or two branches or divisions of literature that the connection exists. On the contrary, there is scarcely a single department in which the legal profession is not represented. History, biography, philosophy, metaphysics, poetry, the drama, fiction, oratory, criticism, and even theology, have all been contributed to by men who at one time or other were connected with the legal profession. Nor is the literature which has emanated from that source of a superficial or evanescent nature. Much of it has passed away, and is now almost unknown; but a great deal still remains, forming some of the best and most endurable of our classics. And these contributions have been—and still are being—made in spite of the opposition and discountenance of the legal profession itself.

There is an opinion very prevalent among the public generally, and the legal profession in particular, that the study of literature is at variance and inconsistent with the study of law; that the more the former is indulged in, the more the latter will decline. In support of this opinion we are told that very few men have distinguished themselves in both avocations; that men of great literary attainments have seldom risen to eminence in the legal profession. That is, no doubt, true; but I attribute it to a very different cause. I consider that the study of literature must have a beneficial effect upon a lawyer, provided that it is made subservient to the business of his profession.

The duties which lawyers are called upon to discharge are many and various, and consequently a vast deal of general knowledge is indispensable to the formation of a really good lawyer. It is not sufficient that he is well versed in legal principles and precedents. Without these he cannot succeed in his profession; but they are not the only requisites. There are many cases in which legal principle and precedent are only of secondary importance. It is when he is called upon to deal with such cases that the lawyer feels the advantages of varied information. If he is ignorant of almost everything but law, he must be painfully aware of his utter incompetence to do justice to his client. He is compelled to grope his way like a man in the dark; he wanders at random, stumbling over everything that lies in his path, and ends, it may be, by falling into a ditch from which he vainly attempts to extricate himself—every attempt only causing him to sink deeper—and is at last compelled to call for help. But it is different with the man who, in addition to his legal knowledge, is possessed of much general and varied information. He can always see his way, and, if assistance is necessary, he knows where to seek for, and seldom fails in obtaining it. It is only to a lawyer of this latter stamp that any man with his eyes open would intrust the care of interests which involved other than strictly legal questions.

Now if it be true that a large amount of general knowledge is necessary to the formation of a really good lawyer, then it must be admitted that the study {561} of literature is an indispensable part of his professional education. The arts and sciences are all represented in literature; and it is only in the study of literature that the requisite general information can be gained. The error appears to me to consist in confounding the term literature with amusing literature. This confusion of terms is very common; but it is also very absurd. When I speak of "literature," I use the word in its most comprehensive sense; and if I were to be understood as meaning solely "amusing literature," my meaning would be grossly perverted. There is no ground for accepting a limited interpretation unless the term used is expressly qualified.

Ease, fluency, and polish, not only in speaking, but also in writing, are likewise indispensable to a lawyer, particularly in the higher walks of the profession. In order to attain these requisites, conciseness, concentration, and arrangement of thought must be diligently studied. There is nothing which tends more to the acquirement of such qualities than the careful examination of them as displayed in the writings and speeches of others, and the frequent expression of our own thoughts, both in writing and in speech. Law treatises, it need scarcely be said, are not conspicuous as models of either ease, fluency, or polish; and therefore the lawyer who aspires to these accomplishments must seek elsewhere for his models. In this respect, also, the study of literature is beneficial to the lawyer; and if attentive reading be accompanied with frequent careful writing and speaking, he cannot fail ultimately to gain the objects of his desire. If the members of the legal profession would bestow more pains than they do to the acquisition of a good style of writing and speaking, the advantages which would accrue to them would greatly outweigh all the trouble incurred. I have seen letters and even pleadings written, and heard speeches delivered, by men of eminence in the legal profession, which displayed either the grossest carelessness or the most lamentable ignorance of the rules, not only of composition, but also of grammar; and such as would have been almost inexcusable in a schoolboy. It is a common notion that elegance is not required, and is out of place in law papers and in letters. I for one cannot agree in that opinion. An elegant style is always desirable. It is preposterous to assert—as many people do—that attention to style begets a habit of neglecting the substance for the sake of the shadow. On the contrary, an elegant style adds to the effect both of speech and writing; and therefore it ought to be cultivated by every lawyer.

So much for the general objection that the study of literature is incompatible with the study of law. I think I have said quite sufficient to show that it ought to form a part of the education of every lawyer. But with reference to the proof of the assertion, that men of distinguished literary attainments have seldom risen to eminence in the legal profession, I could name many men who have rendered themselves conspicuous for their literary abilities, and, at the same time, gained the highest honors of their profession. Yet I admit that overwhelming evidence of a contrary nature might easily be adduced; but I do not admit the reason to be that the one profession is incompatible with the other. I maintain the reverse. The reason why comparatively few lawyers have risen to eminence, both in literature and in law, appears to me to be simply this, that whenever their literary leanings became known, the opportunity was denied them of distinguishing themselves in their profession; the consequence of which was that they abandoned the study of law altogether, and betook themselves to the more agreeable and less laborious occupation of literature. And it must also be borne in mind that law is not always studied with the view of engaging in its practice; but often with the {562} sole purpose of gaining admission to the bar for the sake of its social advantages, or with the aim of acquiring such a knowledge as will be useful in legislative discussion.

I now proceed to consider the causes which lead to the intimate connection between law and literature. I do not think they are difficult of explanation. Speaking generally, it may be said that the lawyers who have distinguished themselves in literature have been for the most part members of the bar. Comparatively few have been members of the other branches of the profession. In England intending barristers must be students of an inn of court for three years, [Footnote 86] during which time they are not permitted to engage in any business. In Scotland, too, every applicant for admission into the faculty of advocates must have graduated either in arts or in laws; or undergo an examination in Latin, Greek (or in his option, in lieu of Greek, two of the following languages, viz., French, German, Italian, and Spanish), ethical and metaphysical philosophy, and logic or (in his option) mathematics, beside an examination in the civil law and the law of Scotland; and one year must be passed without an occupation. Having been called to the bar, a few years generally elapse before much business is intrusted to them, and often it never comes at all. During all this time something must be done—An occupation of some kind must be found either for pleasure or to kill time; or it may be to earn a means of subsistence. Literature—to which their previous training inclines them—is the only employment which is available; and accordingly literature is resorted to. A taste for letters is thus fostered. Its gratification has a twofold advantage, it affords both pleasure and profit. It becomes a habit, and is indulged in on every available occasion. There is always plenty of leisure, at least for many, years, and that leisure is devoted to literature. The employment is so seductive that in many cases its legal votaries are drawn away from their regular studies—which unfortunately often happen not to be profitable in a pecuniary sense— and adopt literature as a profession. Even lawyers with a large practice can occasionally find time for indulging in literary pursuits. During vacation they have plenty of leisure, and as they are accustomed to constant hard work in session, they experience a want and a craving whenever the have nothing to do, and this they endeavor to satisfy by devoting themselves to literature. Many of the most eminent men at the bar occupy the greater portion of their spare time in literary studies.

The practice of law eminently qualifies a man for attaining distinction in literature. It engenders rapidity of thought, systematic arrangement of arguments and ideas, and facility of expression. Lawyers in the enjoyment of any considerable practice are almost constantly called upon to form their opinion and give it expression, apparently without time for even the most superficial reflection. Continual exercise renders these easy to them. In setting forth their arguments both in written and in oral pleadings they are trained to habits of carefulness and close reasoning; because they know very well that any inconsistencies or false reasoning will at once be discovered by the judges whom they are addressing, or by the opposite counsel. What would impose upon a jury, or upon an ordinary reader or listener, will not impose either upon the judges or opposing counsel. They are thus led to say what they wish to say in the clearest manner, and in the way which is most likely to succeed in gaining the object in view. As they are compelled to avoid false reasoning and inconsistencies themselves, so they are ever on the outlook for them on the part of {563} an opponent—it becomes, in fact, a habit. Again, the various duties which they are called upon to discharge enable them to pass from one subject to another with ease and readiness, and compel them to acquire a vast amount of general information which is carefully stored up for future use. The habits thus engendered and constantly exercised, either in written pleading or in oral debate, are easily transferred to literature when that is indulged in. As perspicuity, arrangement, and close reasoning are the very qualities which lead to literary success, and as these are more exercised and consequently more perfect among lawyers than among any other class of men, the reason why they occupy such an eminent position in literature is easily understood.

There are two departments of literature to which the foregoing observations are applicable only to a limited extent—poetry and fiction. In many respects poetry and fiction are analogous: and the old adage, "Poeta nascitur, non fit," may, therefore, with almost equal propriety, be applied to the writer of fiction. However true it may be that the poet is born, there can be no doubt that the development of the poetic faculty is quite as much a matter of hard study and practice as the development of any other inborn faculty. The study of law is the opposite of poetical; but this very antagonism begets in the lawyer, by comparison, a keener relish for and appreciation of poetry, when he turns to it in his hours of leisure. And if he is gifted with the "faculty divine," the delight taken in its cultivation will be greater, because it is to him a relief from the dry details of his ordinary pursuits. He sees, too, so much of human life—of character and passion—in the course of his professional career, that he is enabled to delineate with truth, with strict adherence to reality, the feelings and emotions which he attempts to exhibit in the creatures of his imagination. These, combined with the habits of continuity of thought and forcible expression engendered by his professional studies, must contribute in no slight degree to his success as a poet or novelist. I do not mean to say that any lawyer may write a good novel or poem if he will only apply himself to the task. All I assert is that if he is gifted with the poetic faculty, his professional studies, when properly attended to, will contribute materially to his success as a poet or novelist.