the many
counsels in a Chancery suit by saying he had made up his mind. He, in
fact, lost his temper as each in succession rose, and he declined them
in turn. At last O'Connell, one of the unheard counsel, began in his
deepest and most emphatic tone: "Well then, my lord, since your lordship
refuses to hear my learned friend, you will be pleased to hear ME"; and
then he plunged into the case, without waiting for any expression,
assent or dissent, or allowing any interruption. On he went, discussing
and distinguishing, and commenting and quoting, till he secured the
attention of, and evidently was making an impression on, the unwilling
judge. Every few minutes O'Connell would say: "Now, my lord, my learned
young friend beside me, had your lordship heard him, would have informed
your lordship in a more impressive and lucid manner than I can hope to
do," etcetera, until he finished a masterly address. The Lord Chancellor
next morning gave judgment in favour of O'Connell's client.
He was engaged in a will case, the allegation being that the will was a
forgery. The subscribing witness swore that the will had been signed by
the deceased "while life was in him"--that being an expression derived
from the Irish language, which peasants who have long ceased to speak
Irish still retain. The evidence was strong in favour of the will, when
O'Connell was struck by the persistency of the man, who always repeated
the same words, "The life was in him." O'Connell asked: "On the virtue
of your oath, was he alive?"--"By the virtue of my oath, the life was
in him."--"Now I call upon you in the presence of your Maker, who will
one day pass sentence on you for this evidence, I solemnly ask--and
answer me at your peril--was there not a live fly in the dead man's
mouth when his hand was placed on the will?" The witness was taken aback
at this question; he trembled, turned pale, and faltered out an abject
confession that the counsellor was right; a fly had been introduced into
the mouth of the dead man, to allow the witness to swear that "life was
in him."
O'Connell was defending John Connor on a charge of murder. The most
incriminating evidence was the finding of the murderer's hat, left
behind on the road. The all-important question was as to the
identity of the hat as that of the accused man. A constable was
prepared to swear to it. "You found this hat?" said O'Connell.
"Yes."--"You examined it?"--"Yes."--"You know it to be the
prisoner's
|