Mr. Justice Fitzgerald—­You have Mr. Sullivan, for cause.

   Mr. Sullivan—­And can the crown order a juror to stand by without a
   cause assigned?

   Mr. Justice Fitzgerald—­The crown has a right to exercise that
   privilege.

   Mr. Sullivan—­Well, I will exercise no challenge, for cause or
   without cause.  Let the crown select a jury now as it pleases.

   Subsequently George M’Cartney was called, and directed to stand by.

   Patrick Ryan was also ordered to stand by.

   Mr. Martin—­I protest against this manner of selecting a jury.  I do
   so publicly.

   J.J.  Lalor—­I also protest against it.

   Thomas Bracken—­And I also.

The sensation produced by this scene embarrassed the crown officials not a little.  It dragged to light the true character of their proceeding.  Eventually the following twelve gentlemen were suffered by the crown to pass into the box as a “jury”—­[Footnote:  Not one Catholic was allowed to pass into the box.  Every Catholic who came to the box was ordered to “Stand by.”]

   SAMUEL EAKINS, Foreman. 
   WILLIAM DOWNES GRIFFITH. 
   EDWARD GATCHELL. 
   THOMAS MAXWELL HUTTON. 
   MAURICE KERR. 
   WILLIAM LONGFIELD. 
   JOSEPH PURSER. 
   THOMAS PAUL. 
   JAMES REILLY. 
   JOHN GEORGE SHIELS. 
   WILLIAM O’BRIEN SMYTH. 
   GEORGE WALSH.

The Solicitor-General, Mr. Harrison, stated the case for the prosecution.  Next the police repeated their evidence—­their description of the procession—­as given before the magistrates, and the government short-hand writer proved Mr. Martin’s speech.  The only witnesses now produced who had not testified at the preliminary stage were a Manchester policeman named Seth Bromley, who had been one of the van escort on the day of the rescue, and the degraded and infamous crown spy, Corridon.  The former—­eager as a beagle on the scent to run down the prey before him—­left the table amidst murmurs of derision and indignation evoked by his over-eagerness on his direct examination, and his “fencing” and evasion on cross-examination.  The spy Corridon was produced “to prove the existence of the Fenian conspiracy.”  Little notice was taken of him.  Mr. Crean asked him barely a trivial question or two.  Mr. Martin and Mr. Sullivan, when asked if they desired to cross-examine him, replied silently by gestures of loathing; and the wretch left the table—­crawled from it—­like a crippled murderer from the scene of his crime.

This closed the case for the crown, and Mr. Crean, counsel for Mr. Lalor, rose to address the jury on behalf of his client.  His speech was argumentative, terse, forcible, and eloquent; and seemed to please and astonish not only the auditors but the judges themselves, who evidently had not looked for so much ability and vigour in the young advocate before them.  Although the speeches of professional advocates do not come within the scope of this publication, Mr. Crean’s vindication of the national colour of Ireland—­probably the most telling passage in his address—­has an importance which warrants its quotation here:—­