36 IV. BROUGHAM AS AN ADVOCATE. `HERE was no chancellor that ever sat on the wool THE sack, who had studied the art of advocacy more perseveringly than Lord Brougham. "Omnibus enim rebus,” says Cicero, "is, qui princeps in agendo est, ornatissimus et paratissimus esse debet." The advocate must be not only eloquent but fully equipped with all the weapons of advocacy. Brougham thoroughly realised the force of this truth, and tried to translate it into practice. Yet, for all his zeal and study, he was not a good advocate in the forensic sense of the word. He could make a powerful speech, as in the case of Queen Caroline, but he lacked other qualifications that are necessary to entitle a man to be called a great advocate. "He strikes hard, sir," said an attorney, "but he strikes wrong." Brougham made fine speeches, but other men got the verdicts. It was one of Brougham's chief defects that he lacked the technical knowledge that would have made his forensic eloquence really effective. His mind was too impatient and interests too numerous to enable him to become a master of jurisprudence. He never received a grounding in English law. It is said that, when he was a pupil of Sir Nicholas Tindal in the Temple, an uncle of his, having high hopes of his ability, remarked to Tindal, "I hope my nephew is giving himself up soul and body to his profession.” “I do not know anything," was the reply, "as to his soul, but his body is very seldom in my chambers." There is an account of Brougham in an interesting little book called Criticisms of the Bar, published in 1819 by Amicus Curiae, which throws some light on his character as an advocate. "Mr. Brougham seldom makes his appearance in any of the Courts at Westminster among men (to use the well-known words of a well-known orator) contentionis quam veritatis cupidiores . . . . In the Cockpit he is often employed, and in the House of Lords, when the Lord Chancellor sits there, his In cases of real magnitude, attendance is almost daily The lack of familiarity with the technique and practice of the law, which the above writer seems to regard as matter for eulogy rather than for regret, was one of the chief causes of Brougham's weakness as an advocate. Sir Samuel Romilly, for example, was eloquent and ornatissimus in a high degree, but he was also deeply versed in the mysteries of jurisprudence. As a result, he exhibited the character of an advocate in its most complete perfection. Brougham, on the other hand, too often expressed his ignorance and showed his want of any real grasp of law. Remarks must often have been passed similar to one which was made when he delivered a speech on conveyancing. “I should not like him," said an eminent conveyancer, "to draw a deed relating to my property." Brougham wholly lacked the fine discretion and delicate tact that advocacy requires. He was greatly hampered in his career by his bad temper and want of balance. He showed it in his powerful face. "There is a glare in some men's eyes," says Bagehot, "which seems to say, 'Beware, I am dangerous, noli me tangere.' Lord Brougham's face has this." Sir Edward Malet, his stepson, says, that he would even shout at the servants in his home and call them brutes and beasts, if they handed him salt instead of pepper. His want of self-control went far to neutralise his many mental gifts. He was extremely versatile, and could turn his mind quickly from subject to subject. He possessed an extraordinary readiness that was the wonder of his contemporaries. He had great powers of persuasion and management. But his bad temper and unreliability spoiled everything. "The address and insinuation of Brougham," said Mackintosh, "are so great that nothing but the bad temper which he cannot always hide could hinder him from mastering everybody as he does Romilly." As a speaker Brougham was of course remarkable. He was an orator of tremendous power. His power of sarcasm, his amazing readiness, his energetic vigour, made him a formidable opponent. Peel once told Gladstone that he was "the most powerful man he had ever known in the House of Commons." He was always able to work himself into a passion when it suited his purpose. "Counsellor Broom Was all in a fume," By the mere said a popular rhyme of his earlier days. force of his lungs he silenced antagonists and overawed opponents. "He could not have roared louder," wrote Mr. Western, M.P., in 1816, "if a file of soldiers had come in and pushed the Speaker out of his chair." It is not surprising that Brougham's eloquence, while powerful in the House of Commons and at great public meetings, was not always successful in Courts of law or on circuit. In cases where a splash and a strong speech were required, Brougham was useful enough, but in cases which called for knowledge of law, patient and subtle cross-examination, and the other qualifications which are indispensable to efficient advocacy, Brougham was worse than useless. Some of Brougham's power as a speaker was doubtless the result of study. He had laboriously pored over the greatest models of oratory. He wrote a dissertation on the eloquence of the ancients. He dealt with the same subject in his inaugural address as Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow. He greatly admired Cicero and wrote about him in the Edinburgh Review. He regarded Demosthenes as the greatest of all the orators. He wrote about him also in the Edinburgh Review and published a translation of his speech on the Crown. A note to his translation shows how he had brooded on the oratory of the Greek. Writing of one of the finest passages in the speech on the Crown, he says, "It is such things as this that haunt the student of eloquence and will not quit his mind by day or by night, in the solitary walk, or in the senate and the forum, filling him at once with envy and admiration, with an irrepressible desire to follow in such footsteps, and with absolute despair at the distance of his own." Among moderns Brougham recommended as subjects for oratorical study, Burke's Thoughts on the Present Discontents and the Speech on Conciliation with America. He greatly admired Fox's speeches and regarded them as the classical models for debating, particularly those on the Westminster Scrutiny and the Russian Armament. He considered the first part of the latter speech as worthy of being pored over till the student had it by heart. He was also an admirer of Erskine, and wrote two articles about him in the Edinburgh Review. Brougham, like Mansfield and Garrow, knew the value of a dramatic and striking manner in advocacy, if it is not overdone. Lord Mansfield carried the study so far that Pope was found one day superintending him while he practised before a looking-glass. Of Sir William Garrow, it was said that he was an actor as well as an advocate, and that, when silent, he ceased not to address the jury by the change of his features. Brougham had carefully studied the art of impressing those whom he addressed by his bearing and delivery. As Mr. Hutton has pointed out, Brougham has described Lord Thurlow's manner on the Bench in a way which shows that he had studied closely the minutest histrionic effects of manner. He speaks of "the sarcastic and peremptory matter which eyes of the most fixed gloom, beneath eyebrows formed by nature to convey the abstract idea of a perfect frown, showed to be gathering or already collected." Again, he speaks of Lord Thurlow's manner of rising from the woolsack. "He rose slowly from his seat; he left the woolsack with deliberation," and so on. The description is vivid and graphic, and is not without some touches which seem to show the school in which Lord Brougham studied the art of impressing popular audiences. "You could see," says Mr. Hutton, "that he carefully calculated the oratorical power of his countenance, which was very great.” Brougham realised the great importance of a good opening speech in a case. The value of arrangement and order in opening is one of the commonplaces of competent advocacy, and Brougham dwelt upon this accomplishment in speaking of others. He records that Lord Mansfield stood high for "clearness and skill of statement, which he so greatly laboured, that it was said his story was worth other men's argument." He says of Lord Lyndhurst, "His statement of a case was so perfect that it rendered argument almost unnecessary. And he possessed the gift of unfolding a subject in such a manner as to carry conviction by mere strength of exposition." Some of Brougham's speeches are themselves models of clear and convincing exposition. Brougham considered it the duty of an advocate to sacrifice everybody and everything to the interests of his client. He said that it was Lord Erskine and his brother, Henry Erskine, who taught him that the first qualities in an advocate were the sacrificing everything to the cause, and indulging in no topic or illustration or comment that did not directly serve it in some material particular. In his great speech in defence of Queen Caroline, Brougham used words that have often been quoted. "There are many," he said, "whom it may be necessary to remind, that an |