Dedication to Abraham Lincoln.

9

But a great change has taken place in this country within the last three years. The attempt which was made forty years ago to fritter away the Declaration, and to leave it no more, at most, than an interesting memorial of the dead past, shorn of its vitality and practical value, and left without the germ or even the suggestion of the individual rights of man in it, as described by you in the speech referred to, has been renewed by men professing to be your followers.

This book is written with the hope that it will tend to expose the folly and madness of this second attempt to destroy the great Declaration of the rights of man. If that hope should be realized, it will be a very great gratification.

The Author.

THE TRIAL.

"I had a dream, but 'twas not all a dream."

-Lord Byron.

The thoughts that came into my head upon my bed were these: I dreamed that I was on a visit to a strange city, and while there, was taken to see a new and great court-housethe largest in the world. This building had been erected for the use of a new court, which had been created, organized, and established recently for the trial of great criminal cases. Its jurisdiction extended over all countries and through all ages. This great court was now holding its first session. The building was situated on a lofty eminence, commanding a fine view of all the neighboring country, and was surrounded by noble forest trees, a large variety of evergreens, and a great abundance of beautiful flowers. It was built of the finest marble, was admirable in its proportions, workmanship, and finish, and had a larger seating capacity than any building, ancient or modern, except the Flavian amphitheatre. Its acoustic properties were so perfect that Mr. Clay could be heard in it by forty thousand people.

When I entered the court-room, two cases had already been disposed of. In one Edward, the Black Prince, son of Edward the Third, King of England, had been tried for the murder of three thousand men, women, and children, inhabitants of the city of Limoges in France, in the year 1370. The facts in this case had been admitted by the defense.

Mothers, with their infants in their arms, had begged the enraged conqueror for the lives of themselves and their children; but he had put them all to death and made their city a desolation.

The only defense the attorneys of the Prince attempted was an impassioned appeal to the jury, founded on his hitherto high character as a man, and the glory he had won for himself and his country by the wonderful victories of Cressy and of Poictiers. But the appeal was vain. The jury brought in a verdict of "Guilty of murder in the first degree."

The second case tried was an indictment against Napoleon Bonaparte for the murder of five hundred thousand Egyptians, Spaniards, and Russians, at various times charged in the indictment.

The defend

In this case also the facts were admitted. ant had waged wars of invasion and conquest against the nations aforesaid, and therein had caused the death of half a million of men, including a great many thousands of the French.

A very determined and confident effort was made by the defense to prevent a verdict of guilty, by urging upon the jury that Napoleon was a great statesman as well as a great warrior; that he had done more for the elevation and glory of France than any other man that ever lived; and that four years' confinement to the island of St. Helena was an all-sufficient atonement for any evil he may have done.

But the instructions of the court upon the subject of murder were too full and clear to be disregarded by the jury, and they brought in a verdict of guilty as charged in the indictment.

All pertaining to the first two trials I learned afterwards from a friend who witnessed both. The third I saw and heard myself. It was an indictment against William McKinley for murdering twenty thousand Filipinos and two thousand Americans, many of whom were boys between sixteen and twenty-one years of age.

In this case nothing was admitted. The prosecution were required to prove their entire case. The defense disputed every inch of ground. They omitted nothing that was admissible as evidence or argument in favor of their client. In fact, the high position of the defendant, the circumstances and the surroundings, were calculated to rouse both parties to almost superhuman efforts. It was the most imposing scene I ever witnessed.

The presiding judge was Chief Justice Marshal, and associated with him were John Jay and Chancellor Kent. The jury were Aristides of Athens, Cincinnatus of Rome, Lafay ette of France, Alfred the Great of England, Count Tolstoi of Russia, Presidents Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Lincoln and Grant, Henry Clay and Bishop Simpson.

The vast audience of more than twenty thousand persons was composed of men from nearly all countries and all ages; nearly every foreign ambassador, nearly every United States senator, a majority of the House of Representatives, prominent men from every State, and from the adjacent country, men from every profession and pursuit. This mighty audience was completed and adorned by the largest array of intelligent and brilliant women ever assembled under one roof in the United States.

The great court-room was crowded when I entered and