ght of his
mind,' says Sir Francis, 'as of a very powerful telescope pulled out
just a little too much.' The sharp definitions, perceptible sometimes to
inferior minds, were in his a little blurred. These peculiarities,
however, were even advantages in this special class of business. The
precedents and principles involved were rather vague, and much of the
work within the province rather of the historian than of the lawyer. It
involved questions as to the spirit in which the articles and rubrics
had been composed by their authors. The requirement of 'courage' was
amply satisfied. 'I shall never forget,' says Sir Francis, 'one
occasion' in which Fitzjames was urged to take a course which he thought
improper, though it was not unnaturally desired by irritated clients
fighting against what they considered to be harsh legal restraint.
Fitzjames at once made it clear that no client should make him deviate
from the path of professional propriety. He had, in fact, indignantly
refused, as I find from one of his letters, to adopt a position which
implied distrust of the impartiality of the judges.

Of the cases themselves I must say generally that they often provoked a
grim smile from the advocate. When, in earlier days, he had defended Dr.
Williams he had spoken not merely as an advocate, but as a man who had
felt that he was vindicating the intellectual liberty of the Church of
which he was a member. The cases in which he was now concerned could
appeal to him only as an advocate. The first in which he appeared,
February 16, 1876, was sufficiently grotesque.[171] A clergyman had
refused to administer the sacrament to a gentleman who had published a
volume of 'Selections' from the Bible--implying, it was suggested, that
he did not approve of the part not selected--and who had his doubts
about the devil. The clergyman was reported to have said, 'Let him sit
down and write a calm letter, and say he believes in the devil, and I
will give him the sacrament.' The only legitimate causes in a legal
sense for refusing the sacrament would be that a man was an 'open and
notorious evil liver,' or a 'common and notorious depraver of the Book
of Common Prayer.' The Court of Arches apparently held that the
gentleman came under this description; but the Judicial Committee of the
Privy Council, after hearing Fitzjames, decided that he did not. A man
might disbelieve in the devil, without being a 'notorious evil liver,'
however irrational may be