When Lincoln became a lawyer, he carried to the bar his habitual
honesty. His associates were often surprised by his utter disregard of
self-interest, while they could but admire his conscientious defense
of what he considered right. One day a stranger called to secure his
services.
“State your case,” said Lincoln.
A history of the case was given, when Lincoln astonished him by saying:
“I cannot serve you; for you are wrong, and the other party is right.”
“That is none of your business, if I hire and pay you for taking the
case,” retorted the man.
“Not my business!” exclaimed Lincoln. “My business is never to defend
wrong, if I am a lawyer. I never undertake a case that is manifestly
wrong.”
“Well, you can make trouble for the fellow,” added the applicant.
“Yes,” replied Lincoln, fully aroused, “there is no doubt but that I can
gain the case for you, and set a whole neighborhood at loggerhead. I can
distress a widowed mother and her six fatherless children, and thereby
get for you six hundred dollars, which rightly belongs as much to the
woman and her children as it does to you; but I won’t do it.”
“Not for any amount of pay?” continued the stranger.
“Not for all you are worth,” replied Lincoln. “You must remember that
some things which are legally right are not morally right. I shall not
take your case.”
“I don’t care a snap whether you do or not!” exclaimed the man angrily,
starting to go.
“I will give you a piece of advice without charge,” added Lincoln. “You
seem to be a sprightly, energetic man; I would advise you to make six
hundred dollars some other way.”