<h3> CHAPTER XXXVIII <br/><br/> LORD ST. HELIER—AMERICAN AND ENGLISH METHODS—MR. BENJAMIN </h3>
<p>If you care for a clear view of English life and
of Englishmen you need not always go to the
mountain tops in search of it. If you can find
a man who stands for what is typical, who is in
the front rank, but not among the very foremost,
who has, in a high degree, the qualities by which
the average Englishman, having them in a much
less degree, succeeds, he is as well worth studying
for this purpose as the most illustrious of them
all. I could name many such men. I will take
one whom I knew well for many years; to whose
kindness I owed much; whom I saw often in
London and stayed with often in the country; for
whose memory I have that kind of affection which
survives even a sense of many obligations. I mean
Lord St. Helier.</p>
<p>He was Mr. Francis Jeune when I first knew
him, and when he married Mrs. Stanley. Later
he became Sir Francis Jeune, and finally found
his way into that House of Lords which it is now
the fashion among one set of politicians to decry.
I suppose nobody would deny that, whatever
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P365"></SPAN>365}</span>
be the merits or demerits of the hereditary
principle, this House contains more distinguished and
supremely able men than any other body that
can be named. For such a man as Francis Jeune
it was the natural and pre-ordained abode when
his honourable career reached or approached its
climax.</p>
<p>Sir Francis Jeune was a man who made the
most of his abilities and opportunities. He was
a good lawyer, a good judge, and, after his marriage
with Mrs. Stanley, a considerable social force.
It is among the peculiarities of English life that the
Presidency of the Divorce Court should be one
of four great prizes at the English Bar. The Lord
High Chancellor, the Lord Chief Justice, and the
Master of the Rolls hold the other three most
coveted places, and are rewarded by appointments
such as the legal profession in no other country can
hope for. The dignity of all these positions is
very great, and the pay corresponds to the dignity.</p>
<p>If we contrast the splendid figures with the
salaries of the Judges of the Supreme Court at
the United States, the motto of the Republic
would seem to be Hamlet's "Thrift, thrift,
Horatio." But if the levelling doctrines of the present
day were to prevail, the British judges would soon
descend to the money level of the American. I do
not imagine they will. The illiberal treatment of
public servants has never been popular in England.</p>
<p>There is nevertheless something in these high
legal posts which attracts men to whom the pay,
high as it is, can be no attraction. But that
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P366"></SPAN>366}</span>
again only sharpens the contrast. The average
income of the magnates at the American Bar
being greater than at the English, and the salaries
of the American judges being less than half those
of the English judges, why should an American
lawyer of the first class ever accept a judicial
office? Clearly there are other and higher motives
than mere money. There are Americans, we are
told, who recognize in American life no motive
higher than money. But are they Americans, or
are they of the true American type? You might
have asked Mr. Roosevelt when he was here last
May. He is the most famous of living Americans
and he certainly did not become so by the worship
of money.</p>
<p>I have strayed far from Sir Francis Jeune, but
the law and the things of the law must ever have
an attraction for any one who has at any time, no
matter how long ago, been in contact with them;
otherwise than as a client. And I will stray further
still in order to add that one of the greatest names
at the English Bar, and now one of the greatest
memories, is that of an American. I mean, of
course, Mr. Benjamin. He had no superior. It
is doubtful whether he had an equal in those duties
of his profession in which he most cared to excel.
I knew him a little. He sometimes talked to me
of his career; surely the most remarkable at the
English or perhaps any other Bar, since he was
fifty-three when he came to this country. He
always acknowledged heartily the kindness shown
him, the facilities given him, the aid even of men
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P367"></SPAN>367}</span>
who foresaw in him a dangerous rival, to make
his path smooth. I said to him once:</p>
<p>"But you came here as the representative of a
Lost Cause which the English had at one time
almost made their own. That may have helped."</p>
<p>"Oh, no; the friendship of the governing classes
in England for the Confederacy had passed into
history. They had discovered their mistake. As
they would say, they had backed the wrong horse.
It was still some years to the Geneva Arbitration
but they had begun to be aware they would have
to pay, as others do when they put their money
on a loser. However, I don't think that counted
one way or the other. What did count was the
good-will of English lawyers to another lawyer.
That you can always depend on. They shortened
the formalities. They opened the doors as wide
as they could. And never once when I had gained
a foothold did I find that anybody remembered I
was not English; or remembered it to my disadvantage."</p>
<p>Taking his place as he did at the very head, he
was a memorable illustration of Daniel Webster's
well-known reply to the young lawyer who asked
him if the profession was not overcrowded:</p>
<p>"There is always room at the top."</p>
<p>Mr. Benjamin passed swiftly from penury to
affluence. He told me once what his highest
earnings in any one year had been. The amount
was larger by many thousands of pounds than the
income of his chief competitor. It was larger, I
think, than any English lawyer now makes except
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P368"></SPAN>368}</span>
at the Parliamentary Bar, where the figures are
almost fantastic. This is a money test but apply
any other you like and you would still see the
figure of Mr. Benjamin standing out from among
the crowd and high above it; and above even the
highest of that day.</p>
<p>I dined lately at the Inner Temple as the guest
of a great and successful lawyer. There was a
company of other successful lawyers and of judges.
I asked a question or two about Benjamin. In
that perfectly rarefied legal atmosphere there could
be none but a purely legal opinion. And there
was but one opinion. Most of these men had
known him, though Benjamin died in 1884.
Whether they knew him or not they knew all about
him. His greatness was admitted. Eulogies were
poured out on him.</p>
<p>"Did his American nationality hinder him?"</p>
<p>"It neither hindered nor helped. He was at
the English Bar and that was enough."</p>
<p>I come back to Sir Francis Jeune. He was the
friend and legal adviser of Lord Beaconsfield,
whose will he drew. A Conservative, of course.
His practice at the Bar was never of a showy
kind. But if you put yourself into his hands you
felt sure he would do the right and wise thing.
His mind was of the sort known as legal. When
he came to the Bench it was seen to be judicial
also. I suppose the general public has never
understood why Probate, Divorce, and Admiralty
should be united in one division of the Supreme
Court. No two subjects could be more unlike
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P369"></SPAN>369}</span>
than Divorce and Admiralty. But a judge is
supposed to have taken all legal knowledge to be
his province, and to be equally capable of dealing
with all the mysteries of the law in all its relations
to all parts of life. It is true that on the Admiralty
side assessors are called in. An assessor is a kind
of expert. A retired sea-captain, for example, who
has never commanded anything but a sailing ship,
is supposed to be competent to advise on the most
intricate questions of modern steamship navigation.
The result is sometimes astounding, as in the case
of the <i>Campania</i>, condemned by Mr. Justice
Gorell Barnes to pay for the loss of the bark
<i>Embolton</i>, by collision, solely because she was
steaming nine knots. It was proved that this was
the safest speed for her and for all comers; that
she was under better control at nine knots than
at any less speed. But the court said: "If people
will build ships which are safest at nine knots
they must be responsible for the consequences."</p>
<p>Sir Francis Jeune had no part in the trial of this
famous cause and I am sure had too much sense
to agree with the judgment. Good sense was,
perhaps, the predominant trait in his character.
He showed it pre-eminently in the Divorce Court.
There he was helped, no doubt, by his social
experiences. He knew London as few men know it.
He had, in such matters, almost feminine instincts.
But he ruled in his court as all strong English
judges rule, and as strong American judges do not.
In America we say of an advocate: "He tried such
and such a case." In England the phrase is
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P370"></SPAN>370}</span>
never used of the barrister. It is the judge who
"tries" the cause, as it ought to be. Sir Francis
"tried" the causes that came before him. He
knew the law. He mastered facts easily. He
was not easily misled and he had the sagacity
which led him quickly to right conclusions. Since
his death there have been contrasts on which I
will not dwell.</p>
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