In the separate trial of Messrs. Foote and Ramsey, Mr. Foote again defended himself in a speech of marked ability, and spoken of by the judge as “very striking.”  Lord Coleridge made a noble charge to the jury, in which he strongly condemned prosecutions of unpopular opinions, pointing out that no prosecution short of extermination could be effective, and caustically remarking on the very easy form of virtue indulged in by persecutors.  “As a general rule,” he said, “persecution, unless far more extreme than in England in the nineteenth century is possible, is certain to be in vain.  It is also true, and I cannot help assenting to it, that it is a very easy form of virtue.  It is a more difficult form of virtue, quietly and unostentatiously to obey what we believe to be God’s will in our own lives.  It is not very easy to do it; and it makes much less noise in the world.  It is very easy to turn upon somebody else who differs from us, and in the guise of zeal of God’s honour to attack somebody of a difference of opinion, whose life may be more pleasing to God and more conducive to His honour than our own.  And when it is done by persons whose own lives are not free from reproach and who take that particular form of zeal for God which consists in putting the criminal law in force against others, that, no doubt, does more to create a sympathy with the defendant than with the prosecutor.  And if it should be done by those who enjoy the wit of Voltaire, and who do not turn away from the sneers of Gibbon, and rather relish the irony of Hume, our feelings do not go with the prosecutors, and we are rather disposed to sympathise with the defendant.  It is still worse if the person who takes such a course takes it, not from a kind of notion that God wants his assistance, and that he can give it less on his own account than by prosecuting others—­but it is mixed up with anything of partisan or political feeling, then nothing can be more foreign to what is high-minded, or religious, or noble, in men’s conduct; and indeed, it seems to me that any one who will do that, not for the honour of God but for the purpose of the ban, deserves the most disdainful disapprobation.”

The jury disagreed, and a nolle prosequi was entered.  The net results of the trials were a large addition to the membership of the National Secular Society, an increase of circulation of Freethought literature, the raising of Mr. Foote for a time to a position of great influence and popularity, and the placing of his name in history as a brave martyr for liberty of speech.  The offence against good taste will be forgotten; the loyalty to conviction and to courage will remain.  History does not ask if men who suffered for heresy ever published a rough word; it asks, Were they brave in their steadfastness; were they faithful to the truth they saw?  It may be well to place on record Mr. Foote’s punishment for blasphemy:  he spent twenty-two hours out of the twenty-four alone in his cell; his only seat was a stool without a back; his employment was picking matting; his bed was a plank with a thin mattress.  During the latter part of his imprisonment he was allowed some books.