he stood at the bar of Public Opinion in order that, after having said whatever he might have to say in defence or extenuation of his conduct, he might undergo whatever punishment, if any, the Court might be pleased to inflict.
John Jerningham, who was much agitated, deposed as follows—I am a theatrical manager. Six months ago the Prisoner submitted an original play for my approval. I accepted it because I had nothing else ready. I did not read it. That is the play that has just been damned. It is called Lead. I think it a very good title. I expect that by its failure I shall be four or five thousand pounds out of pocket. (Murmurs of sympathy from the crowded court.)
Cross-examined by the Author.—I did not read your play before accepting it, because I do not profess to be a judge of a play in manuscript. I accepted it because a French play on which I had counted proved a failure. I had nothing ready to put up in its place. I was at my wit's end. I have been there before. I soon get there. I have had no special training for the position of manager. I am not aware that any special training is requisite. It is a very easy profession to master. If you make a success you pocket the profits; if you fail you close your theatre abruptly, and a benefit performance is organized in your behalf. Then you begin again. I am aware that some alterations were made in your play without your sanction. I did not make them myself, as I do not understand these things. I always leave the alterations in an author's
