But how should we know even in such a case, that “the man was not beside himself;” or that the homicide was not justifiable, or at least excusable? He may have acknowledged his guilt. And what if he has? He may have been mistaken; for such things have happened, and murders which never took place—though intended—have been acknowledged, and the missing parties have re-appeared after a long while, and explained the mystery. Or he may have been deranged; or being accused, and as it were enmeshed by a web of circumstances, he may have been led away like the son, who charged himself and his aged father, in Vermont, with the murder of a poor helpless creature, who was afterward found alive, by the instinct of self-preservation; hoping to lengthen, if not to save his life, at least until his innocence might be made to appear; and believing his father guilty. To prove all these things there must be a trial, and a public trial; otherwise, whatever may be the result, he will not be _proved_ guilty, according to the law and the evidence; nor could he be justly condemned; and there would be no safety for others. No matter how clear his guilt may be; nor how bad his character may be; the greater his guilt in the judgment of those who decide against him before trial, and without evidence upon oath, or sifting, or cross-examination—the more precious to him and to all, is the privilege of being put to death according to law. The fewer his rights, the more sacred they are. The more decided and overwhelming the evidence against him, the more necessary it is to wall him round about, as with a sword that turneth every way, against the influence of public opinion. It was in this way that the elder Adams reasoned, when he undertook the defense of the British officer, charged with the murder of Boston citizens, at the outbreak of the revolutionary war—and triumphed. And how shall this be done without the help of a Lawyer? Law, living a science, complicated, and full of mystery and fear, how is the poor criminal to prepare himself? How is he to defend his few remaining rights? And how is he to bear up against the ponderous and crushing weight of public opinion? He cannot. The thing is impossible. He must have help; and that help must be a lawyer; and that lawyer must be not only faithful to him, but unable to take advantage of, or to betray him, if he would; otherwise the culprit will never trust him, and his life will be at the mercy of the prosecutor, generally chosen for his knowledge of the law, and for his adroitness in making “the worse appear the better reason.” Well, then, a lawyer must be allowed to the greatest criminal—and the greater criminal he is, the more lawyers he ought to be allowed—if able to pay for them! or if the court, in consideration of his deplorable and hopeless guilt, or the atrocious character of the charge against him, be willing to assign them.