After a few puzzled looks, Lyons returned to his feet and quickly rehashed his argument. He concluded by praising the clergy and the Church of England, and then asking the jury to award the remainder of Maury's salary in damages.
Henry's turn for closing argument came. He rose slowly, and began to speak nervously, tripping over his words. Spectators recalled that Judge Henry appeared to sink lower in his chair, as the parsons in attendance exchanged smiles of confidence.
Those smiles and Judge Henry's embarrassment slowly dissipated, however, as Henry became increasingly comfortable and passionate in his speech. Historian A.J. Langguth writes that, once he overcame his apparent nervousness, he underwent a "transformation." To many in the court, he appeared to "glow" with fire as his "shoulders straightened, and he looked for the first time, like he might be six feet tall." According to Langguth, the jurors saw "lightning" in his eyes, and one man said later that Henry's oratory "made his hair stand on end and his blood run cold."
What was Henry so passionate about? At the heart of Henry's argument was the Rule of Law, specifically as it relates to contracts. Audaciously, Henry proclaimed that the King and his people had a binding contract, one that respected the right of the colonies to govern themselves. To Henry, this meant that the King of England was duty-bound to approve virtually any legislation duly passed by a colonial legislature. In the case of Virginia, this included the Two-Penny Act of 1758, which had cut the parsons' tobacco quota and reduced Maury's pay (as well as that of his colleagues). Whenever the King failed to approve such duly passed legislation, he broke a good-faith contract with his people and became little more than a tyrant.
Lyons was on his feet, accusing the young lawyer of treason. Murmurs of treason echoed around the room in support of the accusation. Henry, however, did not back down. Instead, he moved on. Having indicted the virtue of the King, he now aimed his guns squarely at the ministers of the Church of England.
Henry explained why the quotas had been adjusted by the colonial legislature, and that everyone in the colony (especially the farmers and working class) had to endure the changing economic fortunes of the various crop seasons. Should an ordained minister, asked Henry, set an example of greed and selfishness in such circumstances or in such times?
