The closing speeches for the defense, delivered by Messrs. Erwin and Anderson, were masterpieces of forensic eloquence, and they were heard by a gathering such as has rarely assembled in a Pennsylvania court room. Legal practitioners, young and old, were there to watch the climax in this struggle of legal giants. Labor leaders sat side by side with capitalists. The classes and the masses were alike represented, and observed with equally keen interest the closing scene of the drama which, for all they knew, was to end in a tragedy. The prisoner himself was perhaps the coolest person in the throng. His nerve remained unshaken to the last. After Mr. Robb had made his address for the prosecution, in the course of which he characterized the battle at Homestead as "the most fanatical piece of barbarity ever witnessed," Mr. Erwin spoke. He said, in part: "At this time a grave responsibility rests upon me, for it now becomes my duty to address your conscience. It is a serious duty, your honor, (turning to the bench) to judge your fellow men's conscience. I am a stranger among you, but I do not fear your crowd, your array of lawyers or your judge, but I do fear my God. I am an officer of the court. I must obey it. I will obey it. I will walk in the line which it sets. We are here to try a citizen of Pennsylvania, born here, for taking the life of a man who, twenty-four hours after landing on your soil, was carried wounded from the boat with his smoking rifle in his hands. Your citizens ask me to ask you if you will believe these men who shot down McCoy and others of your citizens, or those self-confessed red-handed murderers. I stand here, and by the spirits of your dead citizens shot from your mills, I appeal to you for justice. I stand before a jury of Pennsylvania kings; there are no kings in Pennsylvania but the jury. There is no just adjudication but the jury box. It was the discovery of ages--to find some body wherein the conscience should be free. * * * * *