CHAPTER XV. A FIRST BRIEF

  The reader has been already told that Joe Nelligan had achieved a greatsuccess in his first case. A disputed point of law had been raised,in itself insignificant, but involving in its train a vast varietyof momentous interests. Repton, with an ingenuity all his own, hadcontrived to draw the discussion beyond its original limits, that hemight entangle and embarrass the ambitious junior who had dared toconfute him. Nelligan accepted the challenge at once, and after a stormydiscussion of some hours came out the victor. For a while his timidmanner, and an overpowering sense of the great odds against him, seemedto weigh oppressively on him. The very successes he had won elsewherewere really so many disparagements to him now, giving promise, as itwere, of his ability. But, despite all these disadvantages, he enteredthe lists manfully and courageously.

  What a many-sided virtue is this same courage, and how prone is theworld to award its praises unequally for it! We are enthusiastic for thegallant soldier the earliest in the breach, or the glorious sailor whofirst jumps upon the enemy's quarter-deck, and yet we never dream ofinvesting with heroism him who dares to combat with the most powerfulintellects of debate, or enters the field of argument against mindsstored with vast resources of knowledge, and practised in all thesubtleties of disputation.

  It is time, existence is not in the issue; but are there not things athousand times dearer than life at peril? Think of him who has gone onfrom success to success; whose school triumphs have but heralded theriper glories of college life; who, rising with each new victory,is hailed by that dearest and best of all testimonies,--the pridefulenthusiasm of his own age. Fancy him, the victor in every struggle,who has carried all before him,--the vaunted chief of hiscontemporaries,--fancy him beaten and worsted on his first real field ofaction. Imagine such a man, with all the prestige of his college fame,rudely encountered and overcome in the contest of public life, and sayif any death ever equalled the suffering!

  Happily, our task has not to record any such failure in the presentcase. Young Nelligan sat down amidst the buzzing sound of approvingvoices, and received a warm eulogy from the Court on the promise of soconspicuous an opening. And a proud man was Dan Nelligan on that day!At any other time how deeply honored had he felt by the distinguishednotice of the great dignitaries who now congratulated him on his son'ssuccess! With what pride had he accepted the polite recognition of ChiefBarons and silk-gowned "leaders"! Now, however, his heart had but roomfor one thought,--Joe himself,--his own boy,--the little child as itwere of yesterday, now a man of mark and note, already stamped with theimpress of success in what, to every Irishman's heart at least, is thefirst of all professions. The High Sheriff shook old Nelligan's hand inopen court, and said, "It is an honor to our county, Nelligan, toclaim him." The Judge sent a message that he wished to see him in hisrobing-room, and spoke his warm praises of the "admirable speech, asremarkable for its legal soundness as for its eloquence;" and Reptonovertook him in the street, and, catching his hand, said, "Be proud ofhim, sir, for we are all proud of him."

  Mayhap the hope is not a too ambitious one, that some one of those whomay glance over these humble lines may himself have once stood in theposition of Joe Nelligan, in so far as regards the hour of his triumph,and have felt in his heart the ecstasy of covering with his fame the"dear head" of a father.

  If so, I ask him boldly,--whatever may have been the high rewards ofhis later fire, whatever honors may have been showered upon him, howevergreat his career, and however brilliant its recognitions,--has he ever,in his proudest moments, tasted such a glorious thrill of delight aswhen he has fallen into his father's arms overcome by the happiness thathe has made that father proud of him? Oh, ye who have experienced thisthrill of joy within you, cherish and preserve it. The most glowingeulogies of eloquence, the most ornate paragraphs of a flattering press,are sorry things in comparison to it. For ourselves, we had rather havebeen Joe Nelligan when, with his father's warm tears dimming his eyes,he said, "God bless you, my boy!" than have gained all the honors thateven talents like his can command!

  He could not bear to absent himself from home that day; and although hisfather would gladly have celebrated his triumph by gathering his friendsabout him, Joe entreated that they might be alone. And they were so. Thegreat excitement of the day over, a sense of weariness, almost sadness,stole over the young man; and while his father continued to relate forhis mother's hearing various little incidents of the trial, he listenedwith a half-apathetic dreaminess, as though the theme oppressed him. Theold man dwelt with delight on the flattering attention bestowed by theCourt on Joseph's address, the signs of concurrence vouchsafed from timeto time by the Bench, the approving murmur of the Bar while he spoke,and then the honest outburst of enthusiasm that shook the very walls ashe concluded. "I tried," continued Dan Nelligan,--"I tried to force myway through the crowd, and come and tell you that he had gained the day,but I couldn't; they were all around me, shaking my hands, patting me onthe shoulders, and saying, as if I did n't know it in my own heart, 'He'll make you a proud man yet, Mr. Nelligan.'"

  "I heard it all, five minutes after it was over," said Mrs. Nelligan;"and you 'd never guess who told me."

  "Counsellor Walsh," cried Nelligan.

  "No, indeed; I never seen him."

  "It was Hosey Lynch, then, for I saw him running like mad through thetown, spreading the news everywhere."

  "It was not Hosey," said she, half contemptuously. "I wish, Joe, you'dgive a guess yourself who told me."

  "Guess, mother,--guess who told you what?" said he, suddenly startingfrom some deep meditation.

  "Who told me that you won the cause, and beat all the great counsellorsfrom Dublin."

  "I'm sure, mother, it would be hard for me to say," said Joseph, smilingfaintly; "some of our kind townsfolk, perhaps. Father Neal, old PeterHayes, or--"

  "I'll just tell you at once," broke she in, half irritated at thesuggested source of her information. "It was Miss Mary herself, and noother."

  "Miss Martin!" exclaimed old Nelligan.

  "Miss Mary Martin!" echoed Joe; while a sickly paleness crept over hisfeatures, and his lips trembled as he spoke.

  "How came you to see her? Where was she?" asked Nelligan, eagerly.

  "I 'll tell you," replied she, with all the methodical preparation bywhich she heralded in the least important communications,--"I 'll tellyou. I was sitting here, working at the window, and wondering when thetrial would be over, for the goose that was for dinner was too near thefire, and I said to myself--"

  "Never mind what you said to yourself,--confound the goose," broke inold Dan, fiercely.

  "Faith, then, I 'd like to know if you 'd be pleased to eat your dinneron the cold loin of veal--"

  "But Miss Martin, mother,--Miss Martin," urged Joe, impatiently.

  "I'm coming to her, if you'll let me; but when you flurry me andfrighten me, I 'm ready to faint. It was last Candlemas you gave me astart, Dan, about--what was it, now? Lucky Mason's dog, I believe. No,it was the chimney took fire--"

  "Will you just go back to Miss Martin, if you please," said oldNelligan, sternly.

  "I wish I knew where I was,--what I was saying last," said she, in atone of deep sorrow and contrition.

  "You were going to say how Miss Mary told you all about the trial,mother," said Joe, taking her hand kindly within his own.

  "Yes, darling; now I remember it all. I was sitting here at the windowhemming them handkerchiefs of yours, and I heard a sharp sound of ahorse coming along quick, and, by the way he cantered, I said to myself,'I know _you_,' and, sure enough, when I opened the window, there shewas, Miss Mary herself, all dripping with wet, and her hat flattened onher face, at the door.

  "'Don't ask me to get down, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'for I'm in agreat hurry. I have to ride out to Kilkieran with this'--and she showedme a bottle she had in the pocket of her saddle. 'I only called to tellyou that your son has gained another--' What was it she called it?--avictory, or a battle,--no, it was somethin
g else--"

  "Never mind--go on," cried Joe; "and then?"

  "'But, my dear Miss Mary,' says I, 'you 're wet through and through.It's more than your life's worth to go off now another ten miles. I'llsend our gossoon, Mickey Slater, with the medicine, if you 'll just comein and stay with us.' I did n't say to dinner, for I was ashamed to askher to that.

  "'I should be delighted, Mrs. Nelligan,' said she, 'but it is impossibleto-day. I 'd have stayed and asked you for my dinner,'--her verywords,--'asked you for my dinner, but I have promised poor Mat Landy togo back to him. But perhaps it is as well as it is; and my aunt Dorothymight say, if she heard of it, that it was a strange choice I had madeof a festive occasion,--the day on which we were beaten, and the societyof him that worsted us.'

  "'Oh, but, Miss Mary,' says I, 'sure you don't think the worse of poorJoe--'

  "'I never thought more highly of him, my dear Mrs. Nelligan,' saidshe, 'than at this moment; and, whatever others may say or think, I'llmaintain my opinion, that he is a credit to us all. Good-bye! good-bye!'and then she turned short round, and said, 'I can't answer for howmy uncle may feel about what has occurred to-day, but you know _my_sentiments. Farewell!' And with that she was off; indeed, before I hadtime to shut down the window, she was out of sight and away."

  "She ought to know, and she will know, that Joe never said one hardthing of her family. And though he had in his brief enough to tempt himto bring the Martins up for judgment, not a word, not a syllable did heutter." This old Nelligan spoke with a proud consciousness of his son'shonorable conduct.

  "Good heavens!" exclaimed Joe, "is it not enough that a man sells hisintellect, pawns his capacity, and makes traffic of his brains, withoutbeing called on to market his very nature, and set up his very emotionsfor sale? If my calling demands this at my hands, I have done withit,--I renounce it."

  "But I said you refrained, Joe. I remarked that you would not suffer theheat of discussion to draw you into an angry attack--"

  "And you praise me for it!" broke in Joe, passionately. "You deem it anoccasion to compliment me, that, in defending the cause of a worthlessdebauchee, I did not seize with avidity the happy moment to assailan honorable gentleman; and not alone you, but a dozen others,congratulated me on this reserve,--this constraint,--as though thelawyer were but a bravo, and, his stiletto once paid for, he mustproduce the body of his victim. I regard my profession in another anda higher light; but if even its practice were the noblest that couldengage human faculties, and its rewards the highest that could crownthem, I'd quit it tomorrow, were its price to be the sacrifice of anhonorable self-esteem and the regard of--of those we care for." And inthe difficult utterance of the last words his cheek became crimson, andhis lip trembled.

  "I 'll tell you what you 'll do, Joe," said his mother, whose kindnesswas not invariably distinguished by tact,--"just come over with _me_to-morrow to Cro' Martin. I 'm going to get slips of the oak-leafgeranium and the dwarf rose, and we 'll just go together in a friendlyway, and when we 're there you 'll have some opportunity or other totell Miss Mary that it wasn't your fault for being against them."

  "He 'll do no such thing," broke in Nelligan, fiercely. "Miss MaryMartin wants no apologies,--her family have no right to any. Joe is amember of a high and powerful profession. If he does n't fill as great aplace now, who knows where he 'll not be this day fifteen years, eh, myboy? Maybe I 'll not be here to see,--indeed, it's more than likely I'll not,--but I know it now. I feel as sure of it as I do that my name's Dan."

  "And if you are not to see it, father," said Joe, as he pressed hisfather's hand between both his own,--"you and my dearest mother,--theprize will be nigh valueless. If I cannot, when my reward is won, comehome,--to such a home as this,--the victory will be too late." And sosaying he rose abruptly, and hurried from the room. The moment after hehad locked his door, and, flinging himself upon his bed, buried his facebetween his hands.

  With all the proud sensations of having achieved a great success, hisheart was heavily oppressed. It seemed to him as though Destiny haddecreed that his duty should ever place him in antagonism to hisaffections. Up to a short period before this trial came on he hadfrequently been in Miss Martin's company. Now, it was some triflingmessage for his mother; now, some book he had himself promised tofetch her; then visits to the sick--and Joe, latterly, had taken a mostbenevolent turn--had constantly brought them together; and often, whenMary was on foot, Joe had accompanied her to the gates of the demesne.In these meetings one subject usually occupied them,--the sad conditionof the country, the destitution of the poor,--and on this theme theirsympathies and hopes and fears all agreed. It was not only that theyconcurred in their views of the national character, but that theyattributed its traits of good or evil to the very same causes; and whileNelligan was amazed at finding the daughter of a proud house deeplyconversant with the daily life of the humblest peasant, she, too,was astonished how sincere in his respect for rank, how loyal inhis devotion to the claims of blood, was one whose birth might haveproclaimed him a democrat and a destroyer.

  These daily discussions led them closer and closer to each other, tillat length confidences grew up between them, and Mary owned to many ofthe difficulties that her lone and solitary station exposed her to.Many things were done on the property without--some in direct oppositionto--her concurrence. As she once said herself, "We are so ready tosatisfy our consciences by assuming that whatever we may do legallywe have a right to do morally, and at the same time, in the actualcondition of Ireland, what is just may be practically the very heaviestof all hardships." This observation was made with reference to some lawproceedings of Scanlan's instituting, and the day after she chanced tomake it Joe started for Dublin. It was there that Magennis's attorneyhad sent him the brief in that cause,--a charge which the etiquette ofhis profession precluded his declining.

  In what way he discharged the trust we have seen,--what sorrow it costhim is more than we can describe. "Miss Martin," thought he, "would knownothing of the rules which prescribe our practice, and will look upon myconduct here as a treason. For weeks long she has conversed with me incandor over the state of the county and its people; we separate for afew days, and she finds me arrayed with others against the interests ofher family, and actually paid to employ against her the very knowledgeshe has imparted to me! What a career have I chosen," cried he, in hisagony, "if every success is to be purchased at such a price!" With suchmen as Magennis he had nothing in common; their society, their habits,their opinions were all distasteful to him, and yet it was for him andhis he was to sacrifice the dearest hope of his heart,--to lose the goodesteem of one whose praise he had accounted more costly than the highestdistinction a sovereign could bestow on him. "And what a false positionmine!" cried he again. "Associated by the very closest ties with a partynot one of whose objects have my sympathies, I see myself separated byblood, birth, and station from all that I venerate and respect. I musteither be a traitor to my own or to myself; declare my enmity to all Ithink most highly of, or suffer my motives to be impugned and my fametarnished."

  There was, indeed, one circumstance in this transaction which displeasedhim greatly, and of which he was only aware when too late. The Magennisdefence had been "got up" by a subscription,--a fund to which Joseph'sown father had contributed. Amongst the machinery of attack upon thelanded gentry, Father Neal Rafferty had suggested the expediencyof "putting them on their titles" in cases the most trivial andinsignificant. Forfeiture and confiscation had followed each other sofrequently in Irish history,--grants and revocations were so mixedup together,--some attested in all formality, others irregular andimperfect,--that it was currently believed there was scarcely one singleestate of the whole province could establish a clear and indisputabletitle. The project was, therefore, a bold one which, while disturbingthe rights of property, should also bring under discussion so many vexedquestions of English rule and tyranny over the Irish. Libraries andcabinets were ransacked for ancient maps of the counties; and oldrecords were consulted t
o ascertain how far the original conditions ofservice, and so forth, had been complied with on which these estateswere held.

  Joseph had frequently carried home books from the library of Cro'Martin, rare and curious volumes, which bore upon the ancient history ofthe country. And now there crossed him the horrible suspicion that thewhole scheme of this attack might be laid to his charge, the informationto substantiate which he had thus surreptitiously-obtained. It was clearenough, from what his mother had said, that such was not Miss Martin'spresent impression; but who could say what representations might be madeto her, and what change effected in her sentiments? "And this," criedhe, in indignation--"and this is the great career I used to longfor!--this the broad highway I once fancied was to lead me to honorand distinction! Or is it, after all, my own fault, for endeavoringto reconcile two-things which never can have any agreement,--an humbleorigin and high aspirings? Were I an Englishman, the difficulty wouldnot be impassable; but here, in Ireland, the brand of a lowly fortuneand a despised race is upon me. Can I--dare I resist it?"

  A long and arduous conflict was that in which he passed the night,--nowinclining to abandon his profession forever, now to leave Irelandand join the English or some Colonial Bar; and at length, as day wasbreaking, and as though the fresh morning air which now blew upon himfrom his open window had given fresh energy to his nature, he determinedhe would persist in his career in his own country. "_My_ fate shall bean example or a warning!" cried he. "They who come after me shall knowwhether there be rewards within reach of honest toil and steady industrywithout the contamination of a mock patriotism! If I _do_ rise, it shallbe from no aid derived from a party or a faction; and if I fail, I bringno discredit upon 'my order.'"

  There are men who can so discipline their minds that they have but toestablish a law to their actions to make their whole lives "a system."Such individuals the Germans not inaptly call "self-contained men," andof these was Joe Nelligan one.

  A certain concentration of his faculties, and the fatigues of a wholenight passed thus in thought, gave a careworn, exhausted look to hisfeatures as he entered the room where Repton sat awaiting him forbreakfast.

  "I see what's the matter with you," said the old lawyer, as he entered."You have passed the night after a 'first brief.' This day ten yearsyou'll speak five hours before the Lords 'in error,' and never lose awink of sleep after it's over!"