ould throng the
bench of the court to see Phineas Finn tried, and all the world who
could find an entrance would do the same to see the great statesmen
and the noble lords. The importance of such an affair increases
like a snowball as it is rolled on. Many people talk much, and then
very many people talk very much more. The under-sheriffs of the
City, praiseworthy gentlemen not hitherto widely known to fame,
became suddenly conspicuous and popular, as being the dispensers of
admissions to seats in the court. It had been already admitted by
judges and counsel that sundry other cases must be postponed, because
it was known that the Bonteen murder would occupy at least a week. It
was supposed that Mr. Chaffanbrass would consume a whole day at the
beginning of the trial in getting a jury to his mind,--a matter on
which he was known to be very particular,--and another whole day at
the end of the trial in submitting to the jury the particulars of all
the great cases on record in which circumstantial evidence was known
to have led to improper verdicts. It was therefore understood that
the last week in June would be devoted to the trial, to the exclusion
of all other matters of interest. When Mr. Gresham, hard pressed by
Mr. Turnbull for a convenient day, offered that gentleman Thursday,
the 24th of June, for suggesting to the House a little proposition
of his own with reference to the English Church establishment, Mr.
Turnbull openly repudiated the offer, because on that day the trial
of Phineas Finn would be commenced. "I hope," said Mr. Gresham, "that
the work of the country will not be impeded by that unfortunate
affair." "I am afraid," said Mr. Turnbull, "that the right honourable
gentleman will find that the member for Tankerville will on that day
monopolise the attention of this House." The remark was thought to
have been made in very bad taste, but nobody doubted its truth.
Perhaps the interest was enhanced among politicians by the existence
very generally of an opinion that though Phineas Finn had murdered
Mr. Bonteen, he would certainly be acquitted. Nothing could then
prevent the acquitted murderer from resuming his seat in the House,
and gentlemen were already beginning to ask themselves after what
fashion it would become them to treat him. Would the Speaker catch
his eye when he rose to speak? Would he still be "Phineas" to the
very large number of men with whom his general popularity had made
him intimate? Would h