"If you have no defence, old man, and there is no one will say a word for
you, we can but proceed to judgment."

Then in the main aisle of the Court there rose a youthful advocate.

"Most reverend Judges," he said in a mellifluous voice, clearer than the
fluting of a bell-bird, "it is useless to look for words from this old
man, for it is manifest that he himself is nothing, and that his lanthorn
is alone concerned in this affair. But, reverend Judges, bethink you
well: Would you have a lanthorn ply a trade or be concerned with a
profession, or do aught indeed but pervade the streets at night, shedding
its light, which, if you will, is vagabondage? And, Sirs, upon the
second count of this indictment: Would you have a lanthorn dive into
cesspools to rescue maidens? Would you have a lanthorn to beat footpads?
Or, indeed, to be any sort of partisan either of the Law or of them that
break the Law? Sure, Sirs, I think not. And as to this third charge of
fostering anarchy let me but describe the trick of this lanthorn's flame.
It is distilled, most reverend Judges, of oil and wick, together with
that sweet secret heat of whose birth no words of mine can tell. And
when, Sirs, this pale flame has sprung into the air swaying to every
wind, it brings vision to the human eye. And, if it be charged on this
old man Cethru that he and his lanthorn by reason of their showing not
only the good but the evil bring no pleasure into the world, I ask, Sirs,
what in the world is so dear as this power to see whether it be the
beautiful or the foul that is disclosed? Need I, indeed, tell you of the
way this flame spreads its feelers, and delicately darts and hovers in
the darkness, conjuring things from nothing? This mechanical summoning,
Sirs, of visions out of blackness is benign, by no means of malevolent
intent; no more than if a man, passing two donkeys in the road, one lean
and the other fat, could justly be arraigned for malignancy because they