Mr. Giddings was at pains to impress them with the absolute impossibility of even moderate success at the bar, without industry, while with it, mediocrity of talents would insure that.  “Of the whole number who were admitted,” he said, “about ten or fifteen per cent. succeeded; and one in a hundred became eminent.  Undoubtedly the greatest lawyer in the world did not possess the greatest intellect; but he must have been among the most industrious.  Brilliant parts may be useful; they are always dangerous.  The man who trusts to the inspiration of genius, or his capacity to get advantage by ingenious management in court, will find himself passed by a patient dullard.  The admiring world who witness some of the really fine intellectual performances that sometimes occur in court, haven’t the faintest conception as to when the real work was done, nor at all what it consisted in; nor when and how the raw material was gathered and worked up.  The soldier in war is enlisted to fight, but really a small part of his time is spent in battle; almost the whole of it is in preparation, training, gathering material, manoeuvring, gaining strategic advantages, and once in a while producing a field day, which tests the thoroughness of the preparation.  This illustrates the value of absolute thoroughness in the preparation of cases.  A good case is often lost, and a bad one gained, wholly by the care or negligence in their preparation.  You really try your cases out of court.”

Barton asked why it was that, while the world generally admired and respected the bar, there was a distrust of its honesty?—­at which there was a general smile.

“Because,” said Mr. Giddings, “there really are unworthy members of it; and the bar, like the ministry and the medical faculty, being comparatively a small body, is tried by its failures.  The whole is condemned in the person of a few; while a majority—­the bulk of men—­estimate themselves by their successes.  One great man sheds glory on his race, while one villain is condemned alone.  The popular judgment, that lawyers are insincere and dishonest, because they appear on both sides of a case, with equal zeal, when there can be but one right side, is not peculiar to the bar.  It should be remembered that learned and pious divines take opposite sides of all doctrinal points of Scripture, and yet nobody thinks of questioning their honesty.”

“When both are wrong,” put in Wade.

“Now there are, nominally at least, two sides in a law suit—­certainly two parties.  One party goes to Frank, here, and tells his side, most favorably to himself, and gets an opinion in his favor, and a suit is commenced.  The other tells his side to me, for instance, and on his statement I think he has a good defence.  From that moment each looks for evidence and law to sustain his side, and to meet the case made by the other; and invariably we come to the final trial, each honestly thinking he is right.  We try the case zealously and sincerely,