In the criminal trials, reference is made to the emotions of the defendant's family; the devoted, anxious wife, the poor little children who may bear the stigma of their father's disgrace, should the verdict go against him. Since the domestic life of neither party to the trial has appeared in evidence, such things being entirely "irrelevant and immaterial," it does not make a great deal of difference whether the picture is accurate or wholly fanciful. The defendant may be a drunkard, a burden to his wife, and a horror to his children; he may have abandoned his family to their own resources; it is possible that he has never had any family at all. The lawyer has no right to refer in his summing up, or otherwise, to anything that has not been properly submitted in evidence. He is guilty of unfair practice in telling the jury about the defendant's family or circumstances, unless this has been part of the case, which is improbable. He knows this well; so does his opponent and the judge. And should the opposing lawyer protest, the judge will say, looking up, "Be careful, counselor, be careful." The counselor bows respectfully and probably goes on in the same vein. The judge has not heard exactly what was said and feels that the lawyers, if they are not too blatant and noisy, may say what they please. There must not be too much talk about the wicked, money-grabbing, soulless corporation, not too much appeal for the down-trodden poor, nor an over indulgence in personalities. The lawyers must not call the other side liars and thieves too openly. That is, they may say they are untruthful, but liar is too strong. The denunciation must be a little restrained. The judge throws out a rather mild admonition. "The counsellor must keep to the evidence. You may not refer to matters which are not before the court." The lawyer says, "Yes, your Honor." The judge withdraws again into a contemplation of the high cost of living and his diminishing bank balance. The shouting and vociferation grow louder. The jury are long-suffering, but they cannot object. The other lawyer jumps up, and after an insistent effort makes himself heard. "The witness did not say that; you are stating something that is not so. I ask to have the stenographer read the minutes." The stenographer begins turning over the pages of his stenographic book. The exact testimony of the lady in the car is hard to find. "Heavens," think the jury, "are we going to have the whole case over again?"