on to the
evidence and speeches, and had taken full notes, wished to argue
the question. Arnold declined. He was not used, he doggedly said, to
reasoning and debating. His conscience was not satisfied; and he should
not acquit the Bishops. "If you come to that," said Austin, "look at me.
I am the largest and strongest of the twelve; and before I find such a
petition as this a libel, here I will stay till I am no bigger than a
tobacco pipe." It was six in the morning before Arnold yielded. It was
soon known that the jury were agreed: but what the verdict would be was
still a secret. [402]

At ten the Court again met. The crowd was greater than ever. The jury
appeared in their box; and there was a breathless stillness.

Sir Samuel Astry spoke. "Do you find the defendants, or any of them,
guilty of the misdemeanour whereof they are impeached, or not guilty?"
Sir Roger Langley answered, "Not guilty." As the words passed his
lips, Halifax sprang up and waved his hat. At that signal, benches and
galleries raised a shout. In a moment ten thousand persons, who crowded
the great hall, replied with a still louder shout, which made the old
oaken roof crack; and in another moment the innumerable throng without
set up a third huzza, which was heard at Temple Bar. The boats which
covered the Thames, gave an answering cheer. A peal of gunpowder was
heard on the water, and another, and another; and so, in a few moments,
the glad tidings went flying past the Savoy and the Friars to London
Bridge, and to the forest of masts below. As the news spread,
streets and squares, market places and coffeehouses, broke forth into
acclamations. Yet were the acclamations less strange than the weeping.
For the feelings of men had been wound up to such a point that at length
the stern English nature, so little used to outward signs of emotion,
gave way, and thousands sobbed aloud for very joy. Meanwhile, from the
outskirts of the multitude, horsemen were spurring off to bear along all
the great roads intelligence of the victory of our Church and nation.
Yet not even that astounding explosion could awe the bitter and intrepid
spirit of the Solicitor. Striving to make himself heard above the din,
he called on the judges to commit those who had violated, by clamour,
the dignity of a court of justice. One of the rejoicing populace was
seized. But the tribunal felt that it would be absurd to punish a single
individual for an offence common to hundreds of t