persons, indeed, he had never seen.  But no story is too absurd to be imposed on minds blinded by religious and political fanaticism.  The Quakers and the Tories joined to raise a formidable clamour.  The Quakers had, in those days, no scruples about capital punishments.  They would, indeed, as Spencer Cowper said bitterly, but too truly, rather send four innocent men to the gallows than let it be believed that one who had their light within her had committed suicide.  The Tories exulted in the prospect of winning two seats from the Whigs.  The whole kingdom was divided between Stouts and Cowpers.  At the summer assizes Hertford was crowded with anxious faces from London and from parts of England more distant than London.  The prosecution was conducted with a malignity and unfairness which to us seem almost incredible; and, unfortunately, the dullest and most ignorant judge of the twelve was on the bench.  Cowper defended himself and those who were said to be his accomplices with admirable ability and self possession.  His brother, much more distressed than himself, sate near him through the long agony of that day.  The case against the prisoners rested chiefly on the vulgar error that a human body, found, as this poor girl’s body had been found, floating in water, must have been thrown into the water while still alive.  To prove this doctrine the counsel for the Crown called medical practitioners, of whom nothing is now known except that some of them had been active against the Whigs at Hertford elections.  To confirm the evidence of these gentlemen two or three sailors were put into the witness box.  On the other side appeared an array of men of science whose names are still remembered.  Among them was William Cowper, not a kinsman of the defendant, but the most celebrated anatomist that England had then produced.  He was, indeed, the founder of a dynasty illustrious in the history of science; for he was the teacher of William Cheselden, and William Cheselden was the teacher of John Hunter.  On the same side appeared Samuel Garth, who, among the physicians of the capital, had no rival except Radcliffe, and Hans Sloane, the founder of the magnificent museum which is one of the glories of our country.  The attempt of the prosecutors to make the superstitions of the forecastle evidence for the purpose of taking away the lives of men was treated by these philosophers with just disdain.  The stupid judge asked Garth what he could say in answer to the testimony of the seamen.  “My Lord,” replied Garth, “I say that they are mistaken.  I will find seamen in abundance to swear that they have known whistling raise the wind.”