d that such
would be the penalty for every act of misconduct we committed, we
should be better men than we are. Let the boy be sworn."

On one occasion, before Maule, I had to defend a man for murder. It
was a terribly difficult case, because there was no defence except the
usual one of insanity.

The court adjourned for lunch, and Woollet (who was my junior) and I
went to consultation. I was oppressed with the difficulty of my task,
and asked Woollet what he thought I could do.

"Oh," said he in his sanguine way, "make a hell of a speech. You'll
pull him through all right. Let 'em have it."

"I'll give them as much burning eloquence as I can manage," said I,
in my youthful ardour; "but what's the use of words against facts? We
must really stand by the defence of insanity; it is all that's left."

"Call the clergyman," said Woollet; "he'll help us all he can."

With that resolution we returned to court. I made my speech for the
defence, following Woollet's advice as nearly as practicable, and
really blazed away. I think the jury believed there was a good deal in
what I said, for they seemed a very discerning body and a good deal
inclined to logic, especially as there was a mixture of passion in it.

We then called the clergyman of the village where the prisoner lived.
He said he had been Vicar for thirty-four years, and that up to very
recently, a few days before the murder, the prisoner had been a
regular attendant at his church. He was a married man with a wife and
two little children, one seven and the other nine.

"Did the wife attend your ministrations, too?" asked Maule.

"Not so regularly. Suddenly," continued the Vicar, after suppressing
his emotion, "without any apparent cause, the man became _a
Sabbath-breaker_, and absented himself from church."

This evidence rather puzzled me, for I could not understand its
purport. Maule in the meantime was watching it with the keenest
interest and no little curiosity. He was not a great believer in the
defence of insanity--except, occasionally, that of the solicitor
who set it up--and consequently watched the Vicar with scrutinizing
intensity.

"Have you finished with your witness, Mr. Woollet?" his lordship
inquired.

"Yes, my lord."

Maule then took him in hand, and after looking at him steadfastly for
about a minute, said,--

"You say, sir, that you have been Vicar of this parish for
_four-and-thirty years_?"

"Yes, my lord."

"And during that tim