“Individuals of the public may refuse to purchase, and there their rights cease. An opera, in particular, is a very expensive amusement; and in all countries where the rates of admission are low, the governments contribute to the expenditures. This is done from policy, to keep the people quiet, and possibly to help civilize them; but, if we are not far beyond the necessity of any such expedients, our institutions are nothing but a sublime mystification.” “It is wonderful, ’Squire, how many persons see the loose side of democracy, who have no notion of the tight! But, all this time, our client is in gaol at Biberry, and must be tried next week. Has nothing been done, ’Squire, to choke off the newspapers, who have something to say about her almost every day. It’s quite time the other side should be heard.” “It is very extraordinary that the persons who control these papers should be so indifferent to the rights of others as to allow such paragraphs to find a place in their columns.” “Indifferent! What do they care, so long as the journal sells? In our case, however, I rather suspect that a certain reporter has taken offence; and when men of that class get offended, look out for news of the colour of their anger. Isn’t it wonderful, ’Squire Dunscomb, that the people don’t see and feel that they are sustaining low tyrants, in two-thirds of their silly clamour about the liberty of the press?” “Many do see it; and I think this engine has lost a great deal of its influence within the last few years. As respects proceedings in the courts, there never will be any true liberty in the country, until the newspapers are bound hand and foot.” “You are right enough in one thing, ’Squire, and that is in the ground the press has lost. It has pretty much used itself up in Duke’s; and I would pillow and horse-shed a cause through against it, the best day it ever saw!” “By the way, Timms, you have not explained the pillowing process to me.” “I should think the word itself would do that, sir. You know how it is in the country. Half a dozen beds are put in the same room, and two in a bed. Waal, imagine three or four jurors in one of these rooms, and two chaps along with ’em, with instructions how to talk. The conversation is the most innocent and nat’ral in the world; not a word too much or too little; but it sticks like a bur. The juror is a plain, simple-minded countryman, and swallows all that his room-mates say, and goes into the box next day in a beautiful frame of mind to listen to reason and evidence! No, no; give me two or three of these pillow-counsellors, and I’ll undo all that the journals can do, in a single conversation. You’ll remember, ’Squire, that we get the last word by this system; and if the first blow is half the battle in war, the last word is another half in the law. Oh! it’s a beautiful business, is this trial by jury.”