What would the jury think if told that he will never get a penny
of it? It will all go (and probably a good deal more) for extra
costs; that is, the costs the winning party will have to pay his
own attorney, besides the costs in the cause which the losing party
has to pay. No one profits pecuniarily by that verdict or that
trial, except the lawyers on either side. And does it not reduce
the administration of justice to an absurdity, to think that in the
majority of cases, the decision, no matter on which side, does no
good to the man in whose favour it is given.

Another thing which makes the courts of law a sad sight is, that
probably in no scene in human affairs are disappointment and success
set in so sharp contrast--brought so close together. There, on the
bench, dignified, keen, always kind and polite (for the days of
bullying have gone by), sits the Chief Justice--a peer (if he pleases
to be one)--a great, distinguished, successful man; his kindred
all proud of him. And there, only a few yards off, sharp-featured,
desponding, soured, sits poor Mr. Briefless, a disappointed man,
living in lonely chambers in the Temple: a hermit in the great
wilderness of London; in short, a total failure in life. Very
likely he absurdly over-estimates his talents, and what he could
have done if he had had the chance; but it is at least possible
that he may have in him the genius of another Follett, wasting
sadly and uselessly away. Now, of course, in all professions, and
all walks of life, there are success and failure; but there is
none, I think, in which poor failure must bear so keenly the trial
of being daily and closely set in contrast with flushed success.
Mr. Smith and Mr. Brown were rival suitors for the hand of Miss
Jones; Mr. Smith succeeded, and Mr. Brown failed; but though Mr.
Brown feels his mortification severely even as things are, it would