"* * * half-witted, half-responsible creatures, missent to jail by shallow judges contentedly executing those shallow laws they ought to modify and stigmatise until civilization shall come and correct them."
The Bench and Bar are tempting game for those who
enjoy the absurdity of legal tricks and manners. Disraeli
pursues it in the Camelopard Court, in Popanilla;
Dickens in Pickwick, Old Curiosity Shop, Bleak House,
Our Mutual Friend, not to mention the Circumlocution
and Prerogative Offices; Trollope in Orley Farm; and Butler
in Erewhon.
Furnival, attorney for the defence, makes an eloquent and persuasive appeal in behalf of Lady Mason:[1]
"And yet as he sat down he knew that she had been guilty!
- * * and knowing that, he had been able to speak as
though her innocence were a thing of course. That those witnesses had spoken truth he also knew, and yet he had been able to hold them up to the execration of all around them as though they had committed the worst of crimes from the foulest of motives! And more than this, stranger than this, worse than this,—when the legal world knew—as the legal world soon did know—that all this had been so, the legal world found no fault with Mr. Furnival, conceiving that he had done his duty by his client in a manner becoming an English barrister and an English gentleman."
Contempt for chicanery and injustice, scorn for downright
oppression and exploitation, are notes often sounded.
Much more rare is an expression of sympathy for aspiring
but baffled mediocrity, with its converse satire for
those at fault. The most striking example is given by
Trollope. An introductory chapter, with a title and a refrain
of Væ Victis! is devoted to this subject:[2]
