The summing up of the judge was admirable.  He dwelt upon every point that could be construed in favour of the prisoner, but as he proceeded it became clear that the evidence was too convincing to admit of doubt, and there was but one opinion in the court as to the impending verdict when the jury retired from the box.  They were absent for about ten minutes, and on their return the foreman pronounced the prisoner guilty.  There was a faint murmur of applause, but it was instantly repressed.  The judge then proceeded to pronounce sentence in words which I can never forget, and which I copied out into a note-book next day from the report that was published in the leading newspaper.  I must condense it somewhat, and nothing which I could say would give more than a faint idea of the solemn, not to say majestic, severity with which it was delivered.  The sentence was as follows:-

“Prisoner at the bar, you have been accused of the great crime of labouring under pulmonary consumption, and after an impartial trial before a jury of your countrymen, you have been found guilty.  Against the justice of the verdict I can say nothing:  the evidence against you was conclusive, and it only remains for me to pass such a sentence upon you, as shall satisfy the ends of the law.  That sentence must be a very severe one.  It pains me much to see one who is yet so young, and whose prospects in life were otherwise so excellent, brought to this distressing condition by a constitution which I can only regard as radically vicious; but yours is no case for compassion:  this is not your first offence:  you have led a career of crime, and have only profited by the leniency shown you upon past occasions, to offend yet more seriously against the laws and institutions of your country.  You were convicted of aggravated bronchitis last year:  and I find that though you are now only twenty-three years old, you have been imprisoned on no less than fourteen occasions for illnesses of a more or less hateful character; in fact, it is not too much to say that you have spent the greater part of your life in a jail.

“It is all very well for you to say that you came of unhealthy parents, and had a severe accident in your childhood which permanently undermined your constitution; excuses such as these are the ordinary refuge of the criminal; but they cannot for one moment be listened to by the ear of justice.  I am not here to enter upon curious metaphysical questions as to the origin of this or that—­questions to which there would be no end were their introduction once tolerated, and which would result in throwing the only guilt on the tissues of the primordial cell, or on the elementary gases.  There is no question of how you came to be wicked, but only this—­namely, are you wicked or not?  This has been decided in the affirmative, neither can I hesitate for a single moment to say that it has been decided justly.  You are a bad and dangerous person, and stand branded in the eyes of your fellow-countrymen with one of the most heinous known offences.