FullReads

“Did you ever defend a client, knowing him to be guilty?”

“What was your motive in doing so?”

“But in addition to your love of fair play had you not also the hope and assurance of a fee?”

“In defending your guilty client did you declare your belief in his innocence?”

“Yes, I understand, but necessary as it may have been (in that it helped to defeat justice and earn your fee) was not your declaration a lie?”

“Do you believe it right to lie for the purpose of circumventing justice?–yes or no?”

“Do you believe it right to lie for personal gain–yes or no?”

“Then why did you do both?”

“A man who lies to beat the laws and fill his purse is–what?”

“In defending a murderer did you ever misrepresent the character, acts, motives and intentions of the man that he murdered–never mind the purpose and effect of such misrepresentation–yes or no?”

“That is what we call slander of the dead, is it not?”

“What is the most accurate name you can think of for one who slanders the dead to defeat justice and promote his own fortune?”

“Yes, I know–such practices are allowed by the ‘ethics’ of your profession, but can you point to any evidence that they are allowed by Jesus Christ?”

“If in former trials you have obstructed justice by slander of the dead, by falsely affirming the innocence of the guilty, by cheating in argument, by deceiving the court whom you are sworn to serve and assist, and have done all this for personal gain, do you expect, and is it reasonable for you to expect, the jury in this case to believe you?”

“One moment more, please. Did you ever accept an annual, or other fee conditioned on your not taking any action against a corporation?”

“While in receipt of such refrainer–I beg you pardon, retainer–did you ever prosecute a blackmailer?”

It will be seen that in testing the credibility of a lawyer it is needless to go into his private life and his character as a man and a citizen: his professional practices are an ample field in which to search for offenses against man and God. Indeed, it is sufficient simply to ask him: “What is your view of ‘the ethics of your profession’ as a suitable standard of conduct for a pirate of the Spanish Main?”

The moral sense of the laymen is dimly conscious of something wrong in the ethics of the noble profession; the lawyers affirming, rightly enough, a public necessity for them and their mercenary services, permit their thrift to construe it vaguely as personal justification. But nobody has blown away from the matter its brumous encompassment and let in the light upon it It is very simple.

Is it honorable for a lawyer to try to clear a man that he knows deserves conviction? That is not the entire question by much. Is it honorable to pretend to believe what you do not believe? Is it honorable to lie? I submit that these questions are not answered affirmatively by showing the disadvantage to the public and to civilization of a lawyer refusing to serve a known offender. The popular interest, like any other good cause, can be and commonly is, served by foul means. Justice itself may be promoted by acts essentially unjust. In serving a sordid ambition a powerful scoundrel may by acts in themselves wicked augment the prosperity of a whole nation. I have not the right to deceive and lie in order to advantage my fellowmen, any more than I have the right to steal or murder to advantage them, nor have my fellowmen the power to grant me that indulgence.

The question of a lawyer’s right to clear a known criminal (with the several questions involved) is not answered affirmatively by showing that the law forbids him to decline a case for reasons personal to himself–not even if we admit the statute’s moral authority. Preservation of conscience and character is a civic duty, as well as a personal; one’s fellow-men have a distinct interest in it. That, I admit, is an argument rather in the manner of an attorney; clearly enough the intent of this statute is to compel an attorney to cheat and lie for any rascal that wants him to. In that sense it may be regarded as a law softening the rigor of all laws; it does not mitigate punishments, but mitigates the chance of incurring them. The infamy of it lies in forbidding an attorney to be a gentleman. Like all laws it falls something short of its intent: many attorneys, even some who defend that law, are as honorable as is consistent with the practice of deceit to serve crime.