it was unjust to prejudice his case by
evidence admitted against his co-defendants; and Lord Coleridge, who
obviously meant to see fair play, granted the application.

Mr. Bradlaugh's position was, in one sense, the most perilous he had
ever stood in. Just as his long litigation with respect to his seat in
Parliament was drawing to a close, and as he believed to a _successful_
close, he had to defend himself against a charge which, if he were
proved guilty, would entail upon him the penalty of imprisonment. Of
course it would not have been such imprisonment as I was suffering, for
Queen's Bench prisoners are generally sent to the civil side of Holloway
Gaol. But _any_ imprisonment at such a moment gravely imperilled his
prospects of success in the mighty struggle with wealth, bigotry, and
political prejudice. A sense of this fact weighed heavily upon him, but
it did not impair his energy or intellectual alertness; indeed, he was
one of those rare men whose faculties are sharpened by danger.

I need not dwell upon the evidence of the prosecution. It was
most unsatisfactory, and failed to connect Mr. Bradlaugh with the
_Freethinker_. Sir Hardinge Giffard, therefore, almost entirely confined
himself to playing upon the prejudices of the jury.

Mr. Bradlaugh was perfection itself in examining and cross-examining,
and was soon on the windward side of the judge, but his address to the
jury was too boisterous. He _felt_ too much. His adversary was not
under this disadvantage, and Sir Hardinge Giffard's address to the
jury, considered merely as a tactical display, was better than Mr.
Bradlaugh's.

On the second day of the trial (it lasted for three days) there
occurred a curious episode. Just before the adjournment for luncheon Mr.
Bradlaugh intimated that when the Court re-assembled he would call his
co-defendants as witnesses. Lord Coleridge replied in a low, suggestive
tone, "Do you think it necessary?" Mr. Bradlaugh rose and for the first
time I saw him tremble. "My lord," he said, "you put upon me a
grave responsibility." "I put no responsibility upon you," said Lord
Coleridge, "it is for you to decide." And the stately judge glided away
in his robes of office.

If Mr. Bradlaugh put his co-defendants in the witness-box, one of two
things might happen. They might decline to give evidence, as every
answer would tend to criminate themselves; or they might exculpate Mr.
Bradlaugh and procure their own damnation.

I do