“That imputation,” interrupted Lefroy, “upon the conduct of the sheriff I must pronounce to be most unwarranted and unfounded.”  And this discriminating judge continued to show that the imputation was so—­concluding with the assertion that the sheriff “had done his duty in the case.”  Then without pausing, he proceeded to the usual lecture, full of hypocritical cant with which British judges usually preface their awards, however infamous.  He alluded to the personal condition of Mr. Mitchel, and expressed his regrets that a person of such merits should be in such circumstances, Then having dilated on the enormity of the offence, he assured Mr. Mitchel that he had been found guilty of many heinous charges against the Queen and the Imperial Crown, and among others, of felonious intending to levy war upon that gentlewoman, and that the evidence was furnished by the prisoner’s self.  “How, therefore,” he continued, “you think yourself justified in calling it the verdict of a packed jury, and thus imputing perjury to twelve of your countrymen—­deliberate and wilful perjury—­”

“No,” interrupted the prisoner, “I did not impute perjury to the jury.”

“I understood,” said the speaker on the bench, “that you had stated, in arrest of judgment, that you had been found guilty by a packed jury.”

“I did,” was the reply.

Robert Holmes rose, during the judge’s speech, and said, “My lords, with the greatest respect, what I said was, that though he might be statutably guilty, he was not, in my opinion, morally guilty.  I repeat that opinion now.”

This avowal, so boldly and firmly made by the veteran Republican, was answered by all the audience, not pensioned, with plaudits.

Baron Lefroy would say no more on that point, only that the court could not acquiesce in a line of defence “which appeared to it very little short of, or amounting to, as objectionable matter as that for which the prisoner had been found guilty.

“I,” replied the aged advocate, “I am answerable for that under your Act of Parliament.”

Loud applause followed.  “Are there no policemen in court?” shouted Baron Lefroy.  The High Sheriff “had given strict orders,” he said, “to have all removed who would interrupt.”  “Make prisoners of them,” said the judge.  “I wish you to understand,” he continued, still excited, and addressing Mr. Mitchel, who during these episodes, stood unmoved, “that we have with the utmost anxiety and with a view to come to a decision upon the measure of punishment which it would be our duty to impose, postponed the passing of sentence on you until this morning.”  Then, having stated the various considerations which induced him to believe that the punishment should be lenient, and the equally various considerations which induced him to believe the contrary, Lefroy concluded as follows:  “We had to consider all this—­to look at the magnitude of the crime, and to look also at the consideration, that