Two reasons operated on my mind, and induced me to forego the advantage I would derive from having some of the able and learned counsel that plead at this bar.  The first reason is, that if you, gentlemen, are a jury selected by the Crown, as juries are known to be selected heretofore in political cases—­if you are, in fact, a jury selected with the express purpose of finding a verdict for the Crown—­then, gentlemen, all the talent and ability that I could employ would avail me nothing.  If, on the other hand, by any chance the Attorney-General permitted honest men to find their way into the box, then, gentlemen, lawyers were equally unnecessary for me.

Not an inaccurate view of the case, perhaps; the experience of the Fenian trials, from first to last, certainly goes to support it.

The general set about his work of defending himself with infinite coolness and self-possession.  He was supplied with a chair, a small table, and writing materials in the dock.  When he had any notes to make, he sat down, cleaned and adjusted his spectacles, and wrote out what he wanted.  When he wished to cross-examine a witness, he removed his glasses, came to the front of the dock, and put his questions steadily and quietly, without a trace of excitement in his manner, but always with a close application to the subject in hand.  One could almost refuse to believe, while listening to him, that he had not been educated and trained for the bar; and undoubtedly many of those who wear wigs and gowns in her Majesty’s courts, are far from exhibiting the same degree of aptitude for the profession.  But it was in his address to the jury that the remarkable talents of the man were most brilliantly revealed.  It was an extraordinary piece of argument and eloquence, seasoned occasionally with much quiet humour, and enriched with many passages that showed a high and courageous spirit.  His scathing denunciations of the system of brutality practised towards the political prisoners in Kilmainham gaol, and his picture of Mr. Governor Price as “the old gorilla,” will long be remembered.  One portion of his remarks ran as follows:—­

The whole conduct of the Crown, since my arrest, has been such as to warrant me in asserting that I have been treated more like a beast of prey than a human being.  If I had been permitted to examine witnesses, I would have shown how the case had been got up by the Crown.  I would have shown them how the Crown Solicitor, the gaolers, the head gaoler and the deputy gaolers of Kilmainham, and the Protestant chaplain of that institution, had gone in, day and night, to all\ the witnesses—­to the cells of the prisoners—­with a bribe in one hand and a halter in the other.  I would have shown how political cases were got up by the Crown in Ireland.  I would have shown how there existed, under the authority of the Castle, a triumvirate of the basest wretches that ever conspired to take away the lives and liberties