The rich man doesn’t steal a loaf of bread; he has no temptation to do so: the uneducated thief doesn’t get up sham companies, because he has no temptation to do so. Temptation and Opportunity have much to answer for in the destinies of men. Honesty is the best policy, but it is not always the most expedient or practicable.
Now there was much arraignment of prisoners, and much swearing of jurymen, and proclamations about “informing my Lords Justices and the Queen’s Attorney-General of any crimes, misdemeanours, felonies, &c., committed
by any of the prisoners,” and “if anybody could so inform my Lords Justices,” &c, he was to come forward and do so, and he would be heard. And then the crowd of prisoners, except the one about to be tried, were told to stand down. And down they all swarmed, some laughing and some crying, to the depths below. And the stout warders took their stand beside the remaining prisoner.
“Now,” said Mr. O’Rapley, “this Judge is quite fresh to the work, and I’ll warrant he’ll take a moral view of the law, which is about the worst view a Judge can take.”
The man left in the dock was a singular specimen of humanity: he was a thin, wizen-looking man of about seventy, with a wooden leg: and as he stood up to plead, leant on two crutches, while his head shook a good deal, as if he had got the palsy. A smile went round the bar, and in some places broke out into a laugh: the situation was, indeed, ridiculous; and before any but a Chancery Judge, methought, there must be an acquittal on the view. However, I saw that the man pleaded not guilty, and then Mr. Makebelieve opened the case for the Crown. He put it very clearly, and, as he said, fairly before the jury; and then called a tall, large-boned woman of about forty into the witness-box. This was the “afflicted widow,” as Makebelieve had called her; and the way she gave her evidence made a visible impression on the mind of the learned Judge. His Lordship looked up occasionally from his note-book and fixed his eyes on the prisoner, whose appearance was that of one trembling with a consciousness of guilt—that is, to one not versed in human nature outside an affidavit.
Mr. Nimble, the prisoner’s counsel, asked if the prisoner might sit down as he was very “infirm.”
“Have you an affidavit of that fact, Mr. Nimble?” asked the Judge.
“No, my lord; it is not usual on such an application to have an affidavit.”
“It is not usual,” said his lordship, “to take notice of any fact not upon affidavit; but in this case the prisoner may sit down.”
The prosecutrix gave her evidence very flippantly, and did not seem in the least concerned that her virtue had had so narrow an escape.