could, if he wished, refuse to answer questions put to him.[532] Two other results of the changing spirit of the times may be found in the criminal courts. Witnesses for the prosecution were now always brought face to face with the accused, unless reason such as would be valid to-day was given to the contrary; and the prisoner was not only allowed to cross-examine the witnesses against him, but to call evidence in his own behalf.[533] The value of cross-examination to the defence was doubtless an important advance in theory; practically it was greatly impaired by the natural difficulties, which to an untrained man are almost insuperable, of cross-examining witnesses without proper instruction. But the power of calling witnesses for the defence was in practice as well a gain of immense magnitude. With these changes the procedure of Tudor times was handed on to the restored monarchy, and was retained without alteration until the end of the Stuart dynasty. The position of a person on trial, bettered as it was, was pitiable. The bench received the prisoner’s witnesses with the utmost suspicion and treated them as if they were proved to be accomplices in his crime. It was pointed out to the jury that they were not upon oath. At the trial of one of the regicides in 1660 it was even hinted that their evidence might be disbelieved on this ground alone.[534] Later practice demanded that the jury should be directed to notice the fact and warned that witnesses not upon oath deserved no less credit for this reason; but opportunity was generally taken to slight their evidence in other ways. If the prisoner’s witnesses were Roman Catholics, it was pointed out that their evidence might be tutored.[535] If not, the counsel for the prosecution could easily make an opening to call attention to the fact that mere words for the prisoner ought not to weigh as heavily as sound oaths for the king, and he would not be hastily checked by the court.[536] Theoretically, the court was “of counsel for the prisoner” in matters of law;[537] practically, as this conflicted with the judges’ duty to the king and their watch over his life, the prisoner was allowed to shift for himself. To justify the denial of counsel to the accused, the argument was constantly used that, in order to convict him, the proof must be so plain that no counsel could contend against it.[538] Honestly enough, no doubt, this was the theory; but in practice the slightest complication of facts or the most awkward piece of perjury could not fail to render the prisoner in his eagerness and ignorance helpless to unravel the skein which was being wound round him.