argumentative or philosophic disposition may
care to quarrel with this doctrine, they must at least admit that it
would doubtless appear to them of vital truth were they defending
some trembling client concerning whose guilt or innocence they were
themselves somewhat in doubt. "Charity believeth all things," and
the prisoner is entitled to every reasonable doubt, even from his own
lawyer. It is the lawyer's business to create such a doubt if he can,
and we must not be too censorious if, in his eagerness to raise this in
the minds of the jury, he sometimes oversteps the bounds of propriety,
appeals to popular prejudices and emotions, makes illogical deductions
from the evidence, and impugns the motives of the prosecution. The
district attorney should be able to take care of himself, handle
the evidence in logical fashion, and tear away the flimsy curtain of
sentimentality hoisted by the defence. These are hardly "tricks" at
all, but sometimes under the name of advocacy a trick is "turned" which
deserves a much harsher name.

Not long ago a celebrated case of murder was moved for trial after the
defendant's lawyer had urged him in vain to offer a plea of murder in
the second degree. A jury was summoned and, as is the usual custom in
such cases, examined separately on the "voir dire" as to their fitness
to serve. The defendant was a German, and the prosecutor succeeded
in keeping all Germans off the jury until the eleventh seat was to be
filled, when he found his peremptory challenges exhausted. Then the
lawyer for the prisoner managed to slip in a stout old Teuton,
who replied, in answer to a question as to his place of nativity,
"Schleswig-Holstein." The lawyer made a note of it, and, the box filled,
the trial proceeded with unwonted expedition.

The defendant was charged with having murdered a woman with whom he
had been intimate, and his guilt of murder in the first degree was
demonstrated upon the evidence beyond peradventure. At the conclusion of
the case, the defendant not having dared to take the stand, the lawyer
arose to address the jury in behalf of what appeared a hopeless
cause. Even the old German in the back row seemed plunged in soporific
inattention. After a few introductory remarks the lawyer raised his
voice and in heart-rending tones began:

"In the beautiful county of Schleswig-Holstein sits a woman old and
gray, waiting the message of your verdict from beyond the seas." (Number
11 opened his eyes