Whether these things were preserved for phrenological purposes or for the gratification of the most sanguinary taste, I never knew, but they impressed me with a disgust of the brutal tendency of the age.

Dr. Bernard, however, seemed to take a different view.  Probably he was scientific.  He went up to them, and examined, as it seemed, every one of these ghastly memorials with an interest which could only be scientific.  It did not seem to have occurred to his brain that his head would probably be the next to adorn that repository of criminal effigies.

He was in charge of a warder, and looked round with the utmost composure, as though examining the Caesars in the British Museum, and was as interested as any fanatical fool of a phrenologist.  He shrugged his shoulders, raised his eyebrows, and repeated his old formula, “Well, if I am to be hanged, I must be hanged.”

He was acquitted.  My elaborate arguments on the law were not necessary, for the jury actually refused to believe the evidence as to the facts!

Such are the chances of trial by jury!

As a relief to this gloomy chapter I must tell you of a distinguished Judge who had to sentence a dishonest butler for robbing his master of some silver spoons.  He considered it his duty to say a few words to the prisoner in passing sentence, in order to show the enormity of the crime of a servant in his position robbing his master, and by way of warning to others who might be tempted to follow his example.

“You, prisoner,” said his lordship, “have been found guilty, by a jury of your country, of stealing these articles from your employer—­mark that—­your employer!  Now, it aggravates your offence that he is your employer, because he employs you to look after his property.  You did look after it, but not in the way that a butler should—­mark that!” The judge here hemmed and coughed, as if somewhat exhausted with his exemplary speech; and then resumed his address, which was ethical and judicial:  “You, prisoner, have no excuse for your conduct.  You had a most excellent situation, and a kind master to whom you owed a debt of the deepest gratitude and your allegiance as a faithful servant, instead of which you paid him by feathering your nest with his silver spoons; therefore you must be transported for the term of seven years!”

The metaphor was equal to that employed by an Attorney-General, who at a certain time in the history of the Home Rule agitation, addressing his constituents, told them that Mr. Gladstone had sent up a balloon to see which way the cat jumped with regard to Ireland!  He was soon appointed a Judge of the High Court.

Judges, however, are not always masters of their feelings, any more than they are of their language; they are sometimes carried away by prejudice, or even controlled by sentiment.  I knew one, a very worthy and amiable man, who, having to sentence a prisoner to death, was so overcome by the terrible nature of the crime that he informed the unhappy convict that he could expect no mercy either in this world or the next!