A PRACTICING LAWYER
"If we are to speak of the law as our mistress we who are here know that she is amistress only to be wooed with sustainedand lonely passion—only to be won bystraining all the faculties by which man islikest to a god. When I think thus of thelaw, I see a princess, mightier than shewho once wrought at Bayeux, eternallyweaving into her web dim figures of theever-lengthening past—figures too dim tobe noticed by the idle, too symbolic to beinterpreted except by her pupils, but tothe discerning eye disclosing every painfulstep and every world shaking contest bywhich mankind has worked and fought itsway from savage isolation to organic sociallife."
MR. JUSTICE OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES
LARGELY AS a matter of family tradition, the law suggested itself as a career. I had read, however, that the average income of lawyers in the United States for some recently preceding annual period had been $800. That settled that line of inquiry. There wasn't going to be a lot of fun in life on $800 a year and there was no reason to believe that my performance in the law would be better than average. Upon self analysis, no qualifications for any more lucrative profession appeared. My classmates were of the opinion that most men in business made enough to live on anyway. Hence business it was when college was over.
A job was secured as the junior clerk-secretary to a major executive in a large industrial corporation. The work was fascinating. The Company was endeavoring to put upon their respective feet three or four newly developed enterprises. One felt himself a member, albeit inconsequential, of a team driving for a worthwhile goal against economic obstacles and the opposition of competitors. The actors with whom I took a walking, but not a speaking, part included men of ability and men of personal attraction. Working with them was a genuine pleasure.
Ten months passed. Discoveries were made. Most of my fellow employees could be classified into three divisions. The men who were the chief managers were working for this corporation because the financial return from their employment was greater than they thought they could make as individual business men. A second group were men who had families and who were not in business for themselves because they were too uncertain as to the outcome of such a venture. The third group, mostly the youngsters, were playing their imaginations over those days when they should be in business for themselves. Nearly every man in the organization would have preferred to have been his own master but felt it safer, for the time at least, to work for the big Company.
Many men who were making the best progress seemed to be those whose most marked ability was their capacity to go along smoothly, avoiding contests or any appearance of disagreement with their immediate superiors. Outspoken and frank men were usually not the most promising of success.
Inquiries among those men who were working for enterprises of similar size made it obvious that the phenomena noted were characteristic of the whole field of business on a big scale and not alone of the Company for which I was working.
Here was a problem. I was enthusiastic about the work, and the chances for promotion appeared reasonably good. On the other hand, was it wise economically to get in a position where one's progress might be blocked by a failure to be personally pleasing to a superior? Was it worthwhile to try to develop a "yes" personality and one of silent, though sometimes non-concurring, acquiescence in order to move up in the procession? If those already in the organization really preferred, but could not afford, to be independent, why should one who valued freedom of speech and action rather highly get deeper into a situation which jeopardized such freedom? Could he, in the long run, make a success of the venture?
While these thoughts were active, I learned that certain employees of the shipping department were paid $480 a year. At least one man supported a wife and a couple of children on this income. It occurred to me that the annual $800 the average lawyer was supposed to be making might not be such a pittance as I had imagined, particularly in view of the freedom which might go with it.
The result, principally of these reflections, was that in the fall of 1912,1 entered law school. An exciting adventure in trying to think then began.
IN BUSINESS the past, except that for a few recent years, seemed of little importance. Business was now on such a grander scale that anything which happened before our grandfathers' time was either not interesting or only amusing. In the study of the law, however, ancient social relationships, the play of old economic forces in the development of the ideas of a community, the effects of the great events of history, all went toward making the pattern which the law of even the present day was following. Here was opened a vista, looking backward it is true, of a knowledge which was of value in one's everyday life and not simply something to be read about after the business day was over, or discussed with a few rare and occasionally-met-with individuals.
In business, it was of no present importance that the Barons had wrested a basic charter for personal liberties from King John at Runnymede. While a proper lip service was paid to the men who fought for and compromised their ideas into the constitution of the United States, it seemed of no pertinent value to know the origin of the principles announced in that document. There was little appreciation of the events by which these principles have been developed through the conflict of ideas emerging in the social and economic struggles of man with man.
It was in law school that it became certain that what the men who have gone before us have done is of importance to us now; that what we are doing is of importance to the men who will follow us. Hence it became clear that if one is to have even an elementary understanding of what the statutes and decisions of the courts are really concerned with, he must have an appreciation of the past and he must have some feeling for the drift of the future.
Endeavoring to follow these ideas even in an unscientific and inaccurate fashion has led to occasional excursions into a sector of "abundant living" which probably would have never been explored with mere curiosity as a stimulus. This is not to assert that an interest in the past is the prerogative of a lawyer or to intimate that a business career is prohibitive of such an interest. The idea is merely to report that in one instance the pursuit of the law is believed to have given a vividness to the past and focused old events on the present and future to an extent that would not have been true if the interest had not been that of a lawyer.
Selling, in all its phases, was the most absorbing aspect of business. The actual practice of the law soon demonstrated that a capacity for salesmanship was a requisite to success in the legal practice. Selling to one's clients a confidence in his ability; selling a jury on the merit of his cause; selling the courts on the soundness of his contention; persuading those with whom he meets in conference of his integrity, his fairness, of his understanding of their point of view, are all the salesmanlike tasks of a lawyer. Unless he has the qualities of a good salesman, a practicing lawyer is seldom a marked success. Of course, a sense of the dramatic is an asset in the courts, but what outstanding salesman does not have something of this?
IT is BECOMING increasingly apparent that, while a lawyer's most valuable asset is that individualism that made him a lawyer, a capacity for team play and a facility for organization is a material aid to him. One who has not had much to do with lawyers has a flash picture of one man talking while others listen . As a matter of fact, much of the time of a lawyer is taken up with listening to other lawyers, to judges, to men in the office with him, to his clients, to witnesses, to any number of folk. An ability to absorb the ideas of his associates, of other lawyers and of laymen, and to work these into a pattern in which not only the ideas but the persons who give them life are properly integrated, requires an inherent capacity for organization, for cooperation. The merging, or disentangling, of the elements in any enterprise, be it of a commercial or other character, stretch a man's knowledge of how things, ideas, and men will work together. The well-done presentation of an actual case demands the skill of a campaigner. It involves planning for offense and defense, strategy, thrust and counter-thrust, the timely use of every fact and person related to the issue. An understanding of political and economic trends and events and some ability to guess into the future are necessary equipment in the practice of the law.
All of these requisites of a good lawyer grip the imaginations of men at the bar and compel good craftsmanship. Attempted acquisition of these qualities adds to the zest of existence from what might be termed a selfish point of view. There are, however, other aspects of a legal career which are not selfish or are, at least, of a higher selfishness. A lawyer in a real sense is an officer of the courts. Upon his ability to present the best case for his client and upon his willingness to present it honestly and fearlessly, the courts, and the public as well, must rely. Most judges are very busy; another's troubles are always their attention. If the men who present cases to them do not make the issues clear, do not marshall the facts in an understandable manner and do not make the pertinent laws and authorities readily available for consideration, acceptance, or rejection, the judge is handicapped and, barring an exceptional man on the bench, the court suffers in its functioning as a rather vital public instrument. In his relation to this situation the lawyer must fulfill a public trust.
While laymen may be skeptical of the thought, there is a stimulus in realizing that it is the cause of another, not his own, that a lawyer usually pleads. There is something fine in this. It induces a willingness to work for a cause that most frequently transcends an endeavor he would make for himself alone. Even the apparently most unfair advocate always preserves something of an objective attitude that makes for a more just and, usually, a more tolerant character.
THESE DAILY performances in the public interest have no reference to the opportunities open to a member of the bar to become a formal public servant. Perhaps mention of these is not necessary. That more public offices are filled by lawyers than by any other class of men is too well known for comment. Legislatures, executive offices, as well as the judiciary positions, are most commonly occupied by lawyers.
The opportunities to render service to the public generally, to one's "community," and at the same time to acquire a modicum of honor among one's fellows by activity in trade or professional associations, appeals to many men. Bar associations, local, state, national, afford this outlet for the lawyer. In recent years the activity of these organizations has been noteworthy. Re-forming the law itself, policing the conduct of its own members, raising the requirements for those who shall be permitted to invite the confidence of the layman, urging upon legislatures procedural and substantive changes, opposing bills believed to be ill-considered, etc., etc., have come, increasingly, to be recognized as the duty of the organized bar. An encouraging sign of the times is the willingness of busy and successful lawyers to answer the call for these tasks. A volume could be written on these efforts and their diversity. The current effect of the projects of the American Bar Association, for instance, are felt throughout the country in the administration of the law, and the monumental consequences of the skill, learning and time contributed to the American Law Institute are destined to have an effect upon the legal affairs of our people which no man can now measure.
"Most lawyers live well and die poor." That is as it should be. Practicing law is a luxury: in return for the independence and satisfaction it affords, one surrenders opportunities for the greater financial return of other occupations. For some there may be moderate wealth, but for all there is zest, the rewards of good craftsmanship, a sense of being alive —a part of what's going on, the opportunity to expand one's personality, to be one's self in the full sense. No two cases, no two conferences, no two clients are alike. There is always a new interest. There is always a new problem, always old and new responsibilities to be discharged in "lawyer-like" fashion. Collaterally there is no limit to the value of a knowledge of history, science, economics, literature, art, politics, and all of the other fields of endeavor of civilized man. One may always be a better lawyer. Finally, one may daily help lift another's burden—contribute something to the society through which he passes.
To live abundantly and to feel that he may somehow be helping his fellows is a rule for living which is not without its satisfactions.
George M. Morris '11 Of Washington, D. C. Mr. Morris graduated from Dartmouth in 1911 and received hisadvance degree in law from the University of Chicago in 1915.He was born in Chicago and returned to that city for his firstprofessional experience. Enlisting in the Army in 1917, OrdnanceDivision, he became Ist lieutenant, stationed at Wilbur WrightFlying Field and later at Washington, D. C. He started his ownlaw office in the capital after the War, later becoming a partnerin KixMiller, Baar & Morris, his present association. Mr. Morrishas been active hi Dartmouth affairs for many years. As an officerand prime mover in the Washington Alumni Club his activitybroadened with election to the Alumni Council in 1922. He waschairman of the Dartmouth Alumni Fund Committee in 1927 and1928, two of the most successful campaigns the Fund has everenjoyed.
