ck; I did not look timid or
supplicating or depressed; I simply bore myself as though I were doing
my accustomed work. That was my first offence. Then I dared to defend
myself, which was a greater offence still; for his lordship had not only
made up his mind that I was guilty, but resolved to play the part of
prosecuting counsel. We were bound to clash, and, if I am not mistaken,
we exchanged glances of defiance almost as soon as we faced each other.
His look said "I will convict you," and mine answered "We shall see."

Sir Hardinge Giffard's speech in opening the case for the prosecution
was brief, but remarkably astute. He troubled himself very little about
the law of Blasphemy, although the jury had probably never heard of
it before. He simply appealed to their prejudices. He spoke with bated
breath of our ridiculing "the most awful mysteries of the Christian
faith." He described our letterpress as an "outrage on the feelings of
a Christian community," which he would not shock public decency
by reading; and our woodcuts as "the grossest and most disgusting
caricatures." And then, to catch any juryman who might not be a
Christian, though perhaps a Theist, he declared that our blasphemous
libels would "grieve the conscience of any sincere worshipper of the
great God above us." This appeal was made with uplifted forefinger,
pointing to where that being might be supposed to reside, which I
inferred was near the ceiling. Sir Hardinge Giffard finally resumed
his seat with a look of subdued horror on his wintry face. He tried
to appear exhausted by his dreadful task, so profound was the emotion
excited even in his callous mind by our appalling wickedness. It was
well acted, and must, I fancy, have been well rehearsed. Yes, Sir
Hardinge Giffard is decidedly clever. It is not accident that has made
him legal scavenger for all the bigots in England.

Mr. Poland and Mr. Lewis then adduced the evidence against us. I need
not describe their performance. It occupied almost two hours, and it was
nearly one o'clock when I rose to address the jury. That would have been
a convenient time for lunch, but his lordship told me I had better go
on till the usual hour. As I had only been speaking about thirty
minutes when we did adjourn for lunch, I infer that his lordship was
not unwilling to spoil my defence. How different was the action of Lord
Coleridge when he presided at our third trial in the Court of Queen's
Bench! The case for the