The feeling was only momentary, but I fancy it resembled the weird thrill that must have swept through the ancient captive as he entered the Roman arena from his dark lair, and confronted the vague host of indifferent faces that were to watch his fight for life.
I resumed my address to the jury at two o'clock, and concluded it at four.

A considerable portion of that time was spent in altercations with the judge, of which I have already given some striking specimens.

Let me now give another.

It excited great laughter in court, and I confess the situation was so comic that I could scarcely preserve my own gravity.
After quoting a number of "blasphemous" passages from the writings of Professor Clifford, Lord Amberley, Matthew Arnold, the author of "The Evolution of Christianity," Swinburne, Byron and Shelley, I proceeded thus: "Now, gentlemen, I have given you a few illustrations of permitted blasphemy in expensive books, and I will now trouble you with a few instances of permitted blasphemy in cheap publications, which are unmolested because they call themselves Christian, and because those who conduct them are patronised by ecclesiastical dignitaries." Here I produced a copy of the _War Cry_, in which I had marked a piece of idiotic "blasphemy." Judge North scented mischief, and gestured to the officer behind me.

But that functionary was too deeply interested in the case to make much haste, and, not wishing to be frustrated, I read as rapidly as I could.