The ninth juror was drawn, and it proved to be a country trader of the name of Hatfield. This person was known to be a man of considerable influence among persons of his own class, and to have a reputation for judgment, if not for principles. “They might as well send the other eleven home, and let Hatfield pronounce the verdict,” whispered one lawyer to another; “there is no material in that box to withstand his logic.” “Then he will hold this young woman’s life in his hand,” was the reply. “It will be pretty much so. The glorious institution of the jury is admirably devised to bring about such results.” “You forget the judge. He has the last word, you will remember.” “Thank God it is so; else would our condition be terrible. Lynch law is preferable to laws administered by jurors who fancy themselves so many legislators.” “It cannot be concealed that the spirit of the times has invaded the jury-box; and the court has not one-half its ancient influence. I should not like to have this Hatfield against me.” It would seem that Williams was of the same way of thinking; for he muttered to himself, desired the juror not to enter the box, and seemed to be pondering on the course he ought to pursue. The truth was that he himself had recently sued Hatfield for debt, and the proceedings had been a little vindictive. One of the dangers that your really skilful lawyer has to guard against is the personal animosity that is engendered by his own professional practice. Many men have minds so constituted that their opinions are affected by prejudices thus created; and they do not scruple to transfer their hostility from the counsel to the cause he is employed to defend. It is consequently incumbent on the prudent lawyer to make his estimate of character with judgment, and be as sure as the nature of the case will allow, that his client is not to suffer for his own acts. As hostility to the counsel is not a legal objection to a juror, Williams was under the necessity of presenting such as would command the attention of the court. “I wish the juror may be sworn true answers to make”—said Williams. Timms now pricked up his ears; for, if it were of importance for Williams to _oppose_ the reception of this particular individual, it was probably of importance to Mary Monson to have him received. On this principle, therefore, he was ready to resist the attack on the juror, who was at once sworn. “You reside in the adjoining town of Blackstone, I believe, Mr. Hatfield?” asked Williams. A simple assent was the reply. “In practice there, in one of the learned professions?” Hatfield was certain his interrogator knew better, for Williams had been in his store fifty times; but he answered with the same innocent manner as that with which the question was put. “I’m in trade.” “In trade!—Keep a store, I dare say, Mr. Hatfield?” “I do—and one in which I have sold you hundreds myself.”