The terms of this test focused the question of obscenity away from the specific content of 'the matter charged' and toward an assessment of the likelihood that someone who had not chosen to read the indicted material for example, a child, or an otherwise unwitting reader might nevertheless come into contact with it. Since Vizetelly's Zola was in English (widely believed to have been made universally accessible, by 1888), and priced two shillings at its cheapest (thus comparatively inexpensive for previously unpublished fiction, which normally sold for between 6s. and 31$. 6d), the novels' potential reach was considered sufficiently broad that they might be exposed to 'those whose minds are open to... immoral influences'. As for Replica Omega the question of whether or not Zola's fiction was in the first place 'immoral' Vizetelly had appeared to answer that him when he advertised his own audacity in issuing supposedly unabridged translations.

Vizetelly nevertheless pleaded not-guilty to the charge of obscene libel at his first trial in 1888. But the publisher sensibly changed his mind when he saw the jury's horror at the prosecuting lawyer Edward Clarke's submission of evidence. Clarke (1834—1931) had been reading passages from The Soil until a juror interrupted, and the subsequent exchange decided Vizetelly's brief trial:

I am requested to ask whether it is necessary to read all these passages... Judge. The Solicitor-General [Clarke] will no doubt exercise his judgment as to how much he will read. Clarke. I can assure you... it is as unpleasant for me to read these passages as it is for you to have to listen to them. If Omega Replica Watches you think the passages I have read are obscene of course I will stop.

This answer ended any possibility that the defendant would be acquitted, since Clarke had shrewdly made his decision to stop reading dependent on the jurors' agreement that Vizetelly's translation was obscene. Ernest Vizetelly later reported that the particular extract which so overwhelmed the jury was Zola's opening description of animal mating, in which a bull (Cesar) struggles to inseminate a cow (La Coliche), until a farm labourer (Franchise) literally lends a hand. This was ironic, since the passage in question like so many others in The Soil was in fact cautiously expurgated: "[Cesar] must be helped," [Francoise] said. "If he goes wrong, it'll be a waste of time." Calmly and carefully, as if bent on a serious piece of work, she had drawn near. Her intentness made the pupils of her eyes retreat, left half her red lips open, and kept her features motionless. Raising her arm with a sweep she aided the animal in his efforts, and he, gathering up his strength, speedily accomplished his purpose. It was done. Firmly, with the impassive fertility of land which is sown with seed the cow had unflinchingly received the fruitful stream of the male.

Carefully, as though undertaking something of great importance, she stepped quickly forward with pursed lips and set face; her concentration made her eyes seem even darker. She had to reach right across with her arm as she grasped the bull's penis firmly in her hand and lifted it up. And when the bull felt that he was near the edge, he gathered his strength and, with one single thrust of his loins, pushed his penis right in. Then it came out again. It was all over; the dibble had planted the seed. As unmoved and as unfertile as the earth when it is sown, the cow had stood four square and firm as the male seed spurted within her. Not even the bull's last powerful thrust had unsteadied her.