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Justin Vitali's Client: a French “Cause Célèbre.”

I.

A MAN on whose prospects success seemed to shine most sunnily was Justin Vitali, of the Bar of M-. At the age of thirty he had already achieved a reputation as a learned lawyer and an eloquent pleader. Without influential connections to help him on-labouring under the drawback of being a Corsican, which is not a title of merit in the eyes of French barristers who dislike the politics of their insular brethren, addicted, moreover, to solitary study which kept him from chumming with his fellows or going out into society and making friends of the sort who often do more for a barrister than professional merit does, Justin Vitali had, nevertheless, attracted attention much quicker than if he had had recourse to ambitious acts. He was just the sort of man whom solicitors appreciate. He had the gift of listening. It has been said that conversation has become a lost art in these our times because every man reflects on what he shall answer instead of paying attention to what he hears; Vitali, on the contrary, hearkened with all his ears, and his memory was so retentive that he often surprised a client by reminding him of a cursory remark which had been uttered without any intention that it should be remembered. It was a maxim of his that the merits of a case are ascertained less by what a client says than by what he lets slip; and he had a tact for drawing on a speaker to be communicative by an appearance of tacitly acquiescing in all his observations. This power of concentrated attention brought to bear on the reading of his briefs lent Vitali the force which an advocate must needs acquire who speaks with a full knowledge of his case, and it made him a dangerous opponent for leading barristers of large practice who went into court having but skimmed their briefs. It got to be said that when eminent counsel knew they were to be pitted against Justin Vitali they took care to master their facts and charged a heavier fee for the trouble. But, though other barristers might by fits and starts emulate the Corsican's industry, few could compete with the inborn gifts which made him an orator. He was a muscular man of middle height, with a swarthy complexion, black hair, which he wore long and brushed off his high forehead without any parting, thick black whiskers trimmed short, and dark eyes, large and piercing. In his ordinary attire he might have been taken for a provincial farmer in Sunday dress, for he wore illcut baggy clothes of rough cloth and was not careful about dusting

JUSTIN VITALI'S CLIENT: A FRENCH "CAUSE CÉLÈBRE." 445

them; but in court his gown and cambric fall became him well, and as soon as he had put them on he was another man. In this atmosphere of justice, which was his real sphere, he thawed; the cold expression of his features gave place to a look of ardent interest in all that was going on; he would turn his eyes with prompt, inquiring flashes on judges, witnesses, and on the jury if it were a criminal case; and casual spectators who did not know his ways, might have thought that he was continually tempted to spring on to his legs before the time. But this excitement was only outward, for when Vitali rose to speak his impulses were always under his control; they were like a steam machine which a child's hand can guide. He despised tricks of rhetoric, declamatory gestures, and sensational phrases, his eloquence being the natural outpouring of a full mind and heart, flowing like a torrent from a subterraneous lake. He had a clear and melodious voice; his gestures were few and graceful, and his Corsican imagination tinged his speeches with a warm colouring, with happy metaphors and with occasional beauties of true poetical pathos, more especially when he was pleading in cases in which his own sensibilities were greatly stirred.

This very frequently happened, for Vitali had laid down for himself a singular rule of conscience --he would plead no causes which he did not sincerely believe to be just. A well-known Scotch professor of jurisprudence being asked to deal with the question as to whether an advocate were justified in pleading iniquitous causes answered, that a counsel is a mouthpiece, not a judge, and that it is merely his function to place his client's case before the bench in the manner in which the client himself would have stated it had he possessed the requisite oratorical ability and legal knowledge. Vitali took a different view of an advocate's duties, and contended that a man has no right to place his talents and his learning at the service of a person who is endeavouring to do a wrong. "As well," said he, "might a locksmith argue that he was justified in aiding a burglar to break into a house so long as he took no share in the proceeds of the robbery." And on another occasion, smiling at somebody who had styled barristers "the defenders of the widow and the orphan," he replied drily, "Yes, but if some barristers defend the widow and orphan it is presumably because others attack them; therefore the Bar contains as many assailants as champions of the widow and orphan." Often when he had read a brief through, Vitali returned it with a note to the effect that he thought the cause untenable. And once or twice he had appended some words of critical advice which proved most unwelcome to the suitors who had wished to retain him. Had he been less laborious or able, or less successful in winning the causes which he did undertake, his hyper-scrupulousness would have blighted his professional prospects. As it was, solicitors gave him a character for eccentricity, and, while praising him aloud, thanked Heaven in secret that there were not more like him.

But Vitali had also made himself numerous enemies, for it was not

his

to be expected that a man should set up a rigid moral principle without seriously offending many worthy people who were less rigid. All the suitors whom Vitali had snubbed spoke with wrathful contempt of his pretended integrity, deriding it as the affectation of an hypocritical character; and from esprit de corps the Corsican's fellow barristers concurred. After all they were as good as be. Did he imagine forsooth that they pleaded unrighteously, that they had no principles, that they would let the temptation of a heavy retaining fee sway their sensitive consciences? Although M- is a large maritime city of nearly half a million inhabitants, its society is thoroughly provincial, and everybody there knows or believes he knows everybody else. It came to be rumoured that Justin Vitali's "bearishness" was due to his having been crossed in love; others discovered that his real name was Vitali della Sebbia, but that he had dropped his aristocratical patronymic because he was the son of a fraudulent bankrupt, who had hanged himself to escape the hulks; others felt sure that Vitali would turn out to have been a secret agent of the Jesuits, and they begged the rest to mark their words. In short, envy being unable to deny the Corsican's talent went to work dropping fly-spots on his reputation or his motives; but this did not prevent Vitali from increasing in credit among suitors day by day, for suitors, like patients, will run to the man who can bring them speediest relief, and there is no relief in law like a good verdict.

II.

At the moment when this tale opens Justin Vitali had just been pleading a cause which was to set the seal to his renown. He had appeared as counsel for an Opposition newspaper prosecuted by Government. The prosecution was unjust, but as there is no jury in press trials, the defendants had little justice to expect from three judges who, besides being ever anxious to serve Government, seemned to have the letter of the law on their side. Vitali took codes and precedents in hand, and proved that law as well as abstract equity were on the side of his clients; and he forced the bench to acquit on a legal technicality. No such thing had ever been seen in the annals of newspaper trials in M—; and after the judges had delivered their finding, in a densely-crowded court, which had become the scene of enthusiastic and tumultuous cheering, they grew afraid of their own work. The President of the tribunal, a shrewd old time-serving judge, repaired to a reception which the Prefect was holding that evening; so did the Deputy Procurator-General, for he was impatient to demonstrate that he had done his very utmost to get the journalists fined and sent to prison.

But they found the Prefect much less concerned about the failure of his prosecution than about Vitali's remarkable display of eloquence and legal acumen. He was a Bonapartist, who served the Republic grudg

ingly and hoped perseveringly for a restoration of the Third Empire, which might make a cabinet minister of him.

"What a speech!" he said musingly to the President; "a dismal pity that such an orator should belong to the Radicals.”

"But M. Vitali is a Bonapartist, I believe," replied the President, glad to show that he and his assessors had not been worsted by a Republican.

"A Bonapartist-and yet he pleads for the 'Reds'?"

"That is the failing of the man. He pleads for anybody-whom he thinks in the right."

"If he be a Bonapartist, he is a man to be taken up," exclaimed the Prefect, eagerly, for he knew the President was also an Imperialist. "We might push him forward at the next election. He would be a wonderful recruit for our party, now that Rouher is ageing."

"H'm! he would give you a good deal of trouble. Independence is his hobby."

"Oh! as to that, I have known many an Aristides grow tractable when a good berth was offered him," was the Prefect's confident answer. "The Procurator-Generalship of M- is still vacant, and I'll see if I

can't get Vitali appointed to it."

"He wouldn't accept," said the President, with assurance. "So long as you pay a Procurator-General but 15,000 francs a year, the post isn't worth the consideration of a man of thirty in large practice."

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"You leave the honour out of account," rejoined the Prefect. Besides, the post would only be a stepping-stone to politics. At all events we can try."

The Deputy-Procurator, who was approaching, and overheard the Prefect's remarks, pulled a wry face. He had set influences at work to obtain the Procuratorship for himself, and he lost no time in leaving the party to go and telegraph to his friends in Paris to bestir themselves.

Meanwhile Justin Vitali, exhausted by his long and intricate speech in court, had returned to his chambers. They were poorly furnished rooms, whose chief luxury was the library of well-bound law books, which every French advocate is bound to possess before he can be admitted to the Bar. Prior to sitting down to the frugal dinner which was sent him every day from a cookshop, Vitali went up to his writingtable, which groaned under a weight of papers, and began this letter :—

MY DEARLY-LOVED MOTHER,

"To-morrow's newspapers will carry you the report of a trial which has been my greatest success, and which will, I trust, definitely consolidate my position. My earnings are steadily on the increase, and I have little doubt now that after five years more of patient work, favoured by the luck which has hitherto befriended me, I shall be able to pay off my poor father's debts and clear his memory of the stain which was so maliciously and wrongfully thrown upon it. Towards this end,

on which we have both set our hearts, you may rely that I shall not cease to strive, to the exclusion of every other hope or ambition—”

He had got so far when there was a ring at the door of his chambers, and his servant entered with a card, saying that a lady desired to see M. Vitali at once.

"A lady at this hour? Did you ask her business?" said Vitali, as he glanced at the card, on which was the name “Madame Desplans." "She is a young person, sir, and she says she will not detain you above an hour," said the servant.

"An hour; that is at least frank: they generally say 'not above five minutes,' remarked Vitali with a weary smile. "Inquire whether the business is so urgent that the lady cannot fix an appointment."

"She seemed very anxious to see you, sir," rejoined the man, and he opened the door to go out; but at this moment a lady dressed in deep mourning suddenly glided past him, and entered the room.

The shade over the table lamp kept the light down and rendered it difficult to discern the visitor's features. But it was evident that she was young, slight of stature, and judging by the quality of her apparel and her gracefully dignified carriage, a person accustomed to good society. She walked straight up to Vitali's table without speaking. He rose astonished, but bowing, and offered her a seat, and it was only when the servant had retired that she addressed him in a musical voice of great vivacity and rendered slightly tremulous by excitement.

"Excuse me for intruding upon you, M. Vitali, but I wish you to appear for me in a lawsuit. I received notice this morning of an unworthy action that is to be brought against me, and nobody was ever so shamefully abused as I am in that paper. Here it is in my pocket, and I will leave it with you. When I got it at ten o'clock I cried for an hour; but my maid told me I had better come to you who are so famous, so I went to the courts, but you were speaking in that newspaper case, and when it was over I could not get near you because of the throng of persons who were applauding you. I applauded like the rest, for I assure you you were very eloquent, and it occurred to me that if you could find so many things to say for a journalist, you would speak still better in defence of a lonely persecuted woman."

"The suit is about a will," interrupted Vitali politely, for he was proof against compliments. "Allow me to glance at the paper. H'm! mercenary acts, wiles. It appears the plaintiffs wish to have the testator's will annulled on the ground of

"Yes, on the ground that I used undue influence!" exclaimed Madame Desplans. “Did you ever hear of such a thing? Why the money in question was bequeathed me by a man who at least twenty times offered to marry me and who might have been alive now if I had given him my hand! But I won't waste your time in exclamations; here are the bare facts. I was left an orphan at twelve, and at eighteen was married to a

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