which side the prisoner's actions are most applicable. Innocence,
celestial virgin, always has her guard about her; she dares look the
frowns, the resentments, and the persecutions of the world in the
face; is able to stand the test of the strictest inquiry; and the more
we behold her, still the more shall we be in love with her charms. But
it is not so with guilt. The baneful fiend makes use of unjustifiable
means to conceal her wicked designs and prevent discovery. Artifice
and cunning are her supporters, bribery and corruption the defenders
of her cause; she flies before the face of law and justice, and shuns
the probation of a candid and impartial inquiry. Upon the whole
matter, you, gentlemen, are to judge; and judge as favourably as you
can for the prisoner.

If this were not sufficient to convince us of the prisoner's guilt, I
think the last transaction of all will leave not the least room to
doubt. When in discourse with persons that came to her at the house
where she had taken shelter, what but self-conviction could have drawn
such expressions from her? In her discourse with Mr. Fisher about
Cranstoun you will find she declared she had letters and papers that
would have hanged that villain; and, again, says, "My honour, Mr.
Fisher, to that villain has brought me to destruction"; and, again, in
her inquiry of Mr. Lane, what they would do with her, she bursts out
into this bitter exclamation, "Oh, that damned villain!" Then after a
short pause, "But why should I blame him? I am more to blame than he
is, for I gave it him." How could she be to blame for giving it if she
knew not what it was? And, as it is said, went yet farther, and
declared, "That she knew the consequence." If she did know it, she
must expect to suffer the consequence of it too.

Thus, gentlemen, have I endeavoured to lay before you some observations