"Did the wife attend your ministrations, too?" asked Maule. "Not so regularly. Suddenly," continued the Vicar, after suppressing his emotion, "without any apparent cause, the man became _a Sabbath-breaker_, and absented himself from church." This evidence rather puzzled me, for I could not understand its purport. Maule in the meantime was watching it with the keenest interest and no little curiosity. He was not a great believer in the defence of insanity--except, occasionally, that of the solicitor who set it up--and consequently watched the Vicar with scrutinizing intensity. "Have you finished with your witness, Mr. Woollet?" his lordship inquired. "Yes, my lord." Maule then took him in hand, and after looking at him steadfastly for about a minute, said,-- "You say, sir, that you have been Vicar of this parish for _four-and-thirty years_?" "Yes, my lord." "And during that time I dare say you have regularly performed the services of the Church?" "Yes, my lord." "Did you have week-day services as well?" "Every Tuesday, my lord." "And did you preach your own sermons?" "With an occasional homily of the Church." "Your own sermon or discourse, with an occasional homily? And was this poor man a regular attendant at all your services during the whole time you have been Vicar?" "Until he killed his wife, my lord." "That follows--I mean up to the time of this Sabbath-breaking you spoke of he regularly attended your ministrations, and then killed his wife?" "Exactly, my lord." "Never missed the sermon, discourse, or homily of the Church, Sunday or week-day?" "That is so, my lord." "Did you write your own sermons, may I ask?" "Oh yes, my lord." Maule carefully wrote down all that our witness said, and I began to think the defence of insanity stood on very fair grounds, especially when I perceived that Maule was making some arithmetical calculations. But you never could tell by his manner which way he was going, and therefore we had to wait for his next observation, which was to this effect:-- "You have given yourself, sir, a very excellent character, and doubtless, by your long service in the village, have richly deserved it. You have, no doubt, also won the affection of all your parishioners, probably that of the Bishop of your diocese, by your incomparable devotion to your parochial duties. The result, however, of your indefatigable exertions, so far as this unhappy man is concerned, comes to this--" His lordship then turned and addressed his observations on the result to me. "This gentleman, Mr. Hawkins, has written with his own pen and preached or read with his own voice to this unhappy prisoner about _one hundred and four Sunday sermons or discourses, with an occasional homily, every year_."