with pikes and firing on the one side, volleys of fire-arms at the word of command on the other, brought the conflict between lawful authority and rabble rule to a crisis at once. In ten minutes all was over. By the discipline of a mere handful of soldiers, judiciously posted and well commanded, the blind fury of thousands of brave men was forthwith subdued, and they fled in a wild panic. But the punishment of these giddy rioters was severe. Not less than thirty are computed to have perished. Many of the slain were carried off, and twelve bodies were left at the threshold of the inn. Slain for what object? The poor, ignorant, misguided working-classes could not themselves tell. They had been marched, without any definite design, to gratify the turbulent fancies and factious vanity of Frost and his brother Chartists, to show their physical strength, and commence a rebellion for that highsounding term the Charter, of the precise meaning of which they had no clear conception. Some yague, dim notion of improving their state, coercing property, and getting money without work, and the reliance upon en pty promises at trades-unions and lodge-meetings, in the absence of real grievances, seem to have urged them on."

The hopelessness of this insurrection formed the chief topic of defence with Frost's counsel. They argued, from the seeming impossibility of success, that it was impossible the attempt should have been contemplated; and efforts were made to break down the testimony in detail. To resist the evidence by which notorious facts were proved, can seldom be successful with the plain-minded intelligence of a jury; a more plausible alternative was relied on, when counsel struggled to exhibit, supposing the facts proved, that Frost's object in appearing in arms was not to seize the town of Newport, making this the beginning of a general rebellion, which would be high treason, but, by the display of physical force, to effect the amelioration of the condition of the Chartist prisoners in Monmouth gaol, which would be but a misdemeanor. Chief Justice Tindal, stating to the jury the distinction on which the case turned, cautiously avoided intimating to them any expression of his opinion whether the insurrection contemplated objects of a general or a particular nature. So

studiously did the presiding judge avoid giving the slightest aid to the jury in that which was their peculiar province and duty, that an unfounded impression was created that he was dissatisfied with the verdict :

De

"This trial (says Mr. Townsend) also must have furnished an excellent text, on which to strengthen their minds and soften their hearts. It was a noble spectacle to witness the calm, grave stillness which pervaded the Court, its gentle patience and dignified repose, in striking contrast to the fierce passions that raged without the walls. tachments of troops were then scouring the hills, as a fresh rising of the masses had been apprehended; yet day by day the steadfast course of justice pursued its even path with all the appearance and reality of perfect unruffled security. The master-spirit, who had caused such irreparable mischief, stood at the bar for his deliverance, and knew that he should not suffer from the general excitement. His crime was rather softened than exaggerated in the temperate speeches of counsel for the prosecution, and he met with a courteous forbearance from the Court, which he could not himself have shown. A stranger would not have surmised his guilt from the manner in which his name was mentioned, and the courtesy with which he was addressed. Monsieur Cottu alone, who had studied our criminal proceedings, might have guessed the grave nature of the accusation from this very absence of reproach and contumely. But the full, disimpassioned, and impartial consideration given to his case, the complete conviction impressed into the minds of all that justice had been done in mercy, wrought a salutary and perceptible effect on the lower orders. The most unruly bowed their heads in subjection to the supremacy of the law, so well vindicated to their understandings and commended to their feelings, and that portion of the kingdom has since been at peace."

The trial of Oxford for shooting at the Queen is well given. The defence relied on was insanity; and there can be little doubt that Oxford was scarcely of sufficiently sound mind to distinguish between right and wrong. The evidence for the Crown, also, failed to establish the fact charged in the indictment, that the pistol which he fired at the Queen was loaded with ball; and his counsel contended that the special verdict which the jury gave "We find the prisoner, Edward Oxford, guilty of discharging the contents of two pistols; but whether they were loaded with ball has not been satisfactorily proved to us, he being of unsound mind at the time"-was equivalent to an acquittal; they certainly did not amount to a conviction. But this verdict was not received; and after some consultation, a verdict of "not guilty, on the ground of insanity," was the form finally adopted.

This case was the occasion of favourably introducing to the public Mr. Sidney Taylor, who conducted the defence, and who had some few years before succeeded, in the Roscommon Peerage case, in establishing a claim to the title against what at first seemed insuperable difficulties. Mr. Taylor had, for many years, written with great earnestness and power against the severity of the criminal law of England; and the changes to a milder system were, in a great degree, attributable to the influence on public opinion which his writings had. The medical evidence in Oxford's case, on which the defence mainly rested, is given here at length, and is well worth preserving as certainly this and M'Naughten's case carried the defence, on the ground of insanity, farther than any previous judicial investigation had warranted; and for a while the public mind was possessed with apprehensions for the consequences of any extension of irresponsibility, which have proved to have been groundless. With respect to the person of the Queen, it is strange that a love of notoriety seems, after Oxford's case, to have led to attempts by some halfwitted persons against her life. There does not seem to have been any connexion with political objects, or any object at all, but the strange passion for notoriety. About two years after Oxford's trial, John Francis, a youth of nineteen, fired at the Queen on Constitution-hill. As in the former case, no bullet was found; but evidence of the sharp whizzing report with which the discharge was accompanied, satisfied the jury that the weapon was loaded with some destructive substance. In respect to the Queen's own anxiety on the subject, his life was spared, and the sentence commuted to transportation for life:

"Scarcely had the reprieve been granted, when a deformed stripling, William Bean, crooked in mind as in body, only seventeen, again presented his pistol at her Majesty, when going to the Chapel Royal. It was only loaded with powder and wadding, for he had sufficient cunning not to put his life in peril. He was sentenced to two years' imprisonment for the misdemeanor, and Lord Abinger shrewdly remarked that whipping at the cart's tail should be the fitting sentence in future.

"The nuisance had become a national disgrace, and intolerable; some shameful

punishment, suited to the character and condition of such intrusive poltroons, was required; and Sir Robert Peel proposed a measure better adapted to the offence than the high-sounding, but ineffectual charge of high treason, or attempt at treason. Under his auspicies was passed the salutary statute, 5 & 6 Vict., c. 51, intituled, 'An Act for the further Security and Protection of Her Majesty's person,' and enacting, in the most comprehensive terms, that whosoever shall point any description of fire-arms at the Queen, whether the same shall or shall not contain any explosive or destructive material, shall be guilty of a high misdemeanor, and liable to the same penalties as in convictions for simple larceny, and, in addition, shall be publicly or privately whipped, as often, and in such manner, as the Court shall direct, not exceeding thrice.' The bill was passed with unanimous assent; and Lord John Russell remarked pointedly, that, 'as the offence to be punished was the offence of base and degraded beings, a base and degrading punishment was most fitly applied to it.'"

The third trial in the selection is one of exceeding interest-it is that of Mr. Stuart, for killing Sir Alexander Boswell in a duel. The introductory remarks by which Mr. Townsend's abstract of this trial is prefaced, are well worth attention. The struggle between the letter of the law and the feelings of society, as existing in the minds of jurors, which prevented the letter of the law from being the rule of conduct to any one, is well exempli fied by the production of many remarkable cases: "During the long reign of George the Third, which comprehended nearly sixty years, about 170 duels are known to have been fought, and in those between sixty and seventy persons were slain." We should think these statistics are very much under the mark. In Ireland, certainly, the numbers were vastly greater, or Sir Jonah Barrington is in error is not that the civil word? But a more faithworthy witness, the author of "Ireland Sixty Years Ago," satisfies us that this, for almost any one county, would be much less than the number of duels fought. In most cases there was no prosecution; and where there were verdicts of conviction, there can be little doubt that, though the verdict did not say it in words, it was in cases where the jury thought the duel was not a fair one, and that murder was actually perpetrated. Major Campbell was sentenced to death and

this case the antagonists met in the night time, and without seconds. The words of the dying man were the chief evidence against the survivor, and he denied the fairness of the duel. Another case, worse in its characterwhere the survivor was convicted and executed-was one which was manifest assassination where the forms of duelling could scarcely be said to be observed at all. In Lord Byron's case, as we believe in all the cases tried by the House of Lords, the finding, under the most aggravated circumstances, has been manslaughter, and the punishment but nominal.

In 1794, an officer, who had been brought to a court-martial and dismissed the service, told the colonel of his late regiment that he was a coward, a ruffian, and a scoundrel. The colonel took no notice of this: on the next day he was again assailed with similar language, and a whip shaken over him. On consultation with his friends, it was deemed necessary that he should send a hostile message. They met, and he was shot dead. Baron Hotham, who tried the case, stated that the facts amounted to murder. "Such is the law of the land, which undoubtedly the prisoner has violated though he has acted in conformity to the law of honour. His whole demeanour in the duel was that of perfect honour and perfect humanity. Such is the law, and such are the facts. If you cannot reconcile the latter to your consciences, you must return a verdict of guilty. But if the contrary, though the acquittal may tread on the rigid rules of law, yet the verdict will be lovely in the sight both of God and man." This was going pretty far for a judge; and we confess we think Dr. Johnson's justification of duelling, on the ground of self-defence, more tenable than this mode of stating the law to be one thing, and the extent to which juries should be governed by it a thing wholly different.

The next case Mr. Townsend gives is one of Colonel Montgomery and Captain Macnamara ::

"It was a case of a foolish dispute about two dogs which accompanied the gentlemen when riding in the park: the dogs having quarrelled, Colonel Montgomery, who did not perceive that Captain Macnamara was

near, came and separated them, and said, 'Whose dog is this? I will knock him down.' On which Captain Macnamara rejoined, 'Have you the arrogance to say you will knock my dog down! you must first knock me down.' An altercation took place. Colonel Montgomery and his party rode up through Piccadilly, and Captain Macnamara following him, sent a friend immediately with a message. They met the same day, and Colonel Montgomery was shot dead on the spot.

"The defence in this case was prepared by Mr. Erskine, who appeared as his counsel, but was not allowed by law to address the jury. The defence which he prepared was one which few British juries could resist. He states, 'I am a captain of the British navy. My character you can only hear from others. But to maintain my character, I must be respected. When called upon to lead others into honourable danger, I must not be supposed to be a man who sought safety by submitting to what custom has taught others to consider as a disgrace. I am not presuming to urge anything against the laws of God or of this land. I know that, in the eye of religion and reason, obedience to the law, though against the feelings of the world, is the first duty, and ought to be the rule of action; but in putting a construction upon my motives, so as to ascertain the quality of my actions, you will make allowances for my situation. It is impossible to define in terms the proper feelings of a gentleman, but their existence has supported this happy country for many ages, and she might perish if they were lost.' The jury instantly acquitted him."

:

A similar defence was made in another case, tried by Mr. Justice Chambre, who told the jury it was in extenuation "If you are dissatisfied with the evidence that Mr. Sparling did commit the act which deprived Mr. Grayson of his life, coolly and deliberately and if, as I heartily wish, you may be able to observe any circumstances which will warrant you so to think, you will acquit him." We transcribe the charge, with Mr. Townsend's italics, who adds: "Seventy-two witnesses, the number necessary by the ecclesiastical law to convict a cardinal of the crime of incontinence, would not have sufficed to satisfy the jury after this hint, and in twenty minutes they returned with the verdict of 'not guilty.'" We do not read this charge quite in the way Mr. Townsend does. It seems to us clear, that, if on the jury, Chambre would have convicted.

The cases tried by the House of Lords have uniformly resulted in a

conviction but for manslaughter, which ought to have modified the strong language with which Mr. Townsend opens his narrative of the following remarkable case :

"There is a singular case, of Sheppard, tried before Sir Henry Russell, the recorder of Bombay, which issued in a verdict of manslaughter, though, if there be any authority in law for a concerted duel being a crime, it is either a murder or no offence at all. It is as much a departure from the authority of the law to find manslaughter, as to find it no crime. This, however, was an aggravated case. A quarrel took place between two officers in garrison, who chose to go out, after a long delay, several weeks having been spent in the exchange of notes, in the dark, and to fight by the light of a lantern held by a black servant between them, without the inspection of a single European; no witnesses were present. The offence of the party who suffered was of a very vague description, only one person saying that he thinks he had heard Captain Phillips speak lightly of Sheppard on some occasion or other. On this provocation the challenge is given, the parties fight alone (for the black servant was not permitted to give evidence) in the dark, and Captain Phillips is killed on the spot. The boldness with which the judge spoke out (what all judges in their hearts must feel) is remarkable.

"Sir Henry says, after stating that the crime of killing in a duel is murder: 'At the same time, in compassion to human infirmity, courts of law and juries have been in the habit of making great allowances for the circumstances in which persons called upon to fight a duel may have been placed. When a fellow-creature is put to death from motives of deliberate malice, the law pronounces the crime to be murder. When the same act is committed under the immediate influence of violent passion, it is merely accounted manslaughter. Now, in the case before you, it will be for you to consider whether the present circumstances of society, as applied to a gentleman and a soldier, do not take away the particular character of malice from the crime. A man is placed in a situation where, if he does not go out to fight a duel, he has no prospect before him in life but that of contempt and ignominy. Surely the feelings which are inseparable from such a situation may be supposed to deprive a man of selfpossession and self-command, as well as a violent gust of passion. And I see no reason why the law should deny, nor do I believe that the law does deny, the same indulgence to those feelings, that it yields to a brutal impulse, which it is the chief object of all human and divine institutions to control. In declaring this opinion, I believe I go farther than most judges have done, but I have not formed it without mature delibera

tion, and I think it places the question of law in cases of duel, upon more stable and more tenable grounds, than the shifts and artifices which have been so generally resorted to.""

But by far the most eloquent, and in all its circumstances the best charge to be found in this class of cases, is that of Baron Smith on the trial of Alcock. Alcock and Colclough were candidates for an Irish county. Alcock had gained the interest of a proprietor, some of whose tenants, forty-shilling freeholders, were about voting for Colclough. Alcock remonstrated with Colclough, who said he had not solicited the votes. "But they shall not vote for you," said Alcock. "How can I prevent them?" said Colclough. Alcock said he must have satisfaction. They fought, and Colclough was shot dead. The prosecution, it would appear, was vindictively conducted by the friends of the deceased-by the very persons who were on the ground witnessing and encouraging the violation of the law-and in the witnessing and encouraging a crime, themselves criminal.

The same principle that

runs through the latter part of this charge, of the practice of society having abrogated or varied the admitted letter of the law, was strenuously urged by Jeffrey in his defence of Stuart, and it is impossible not to allow it great weight:

"If an officer at the head of his regiment,' said Baron Smith, charging the jury, 'be called a coward and a scoundrel, and instead of cutting the offender down, challenge and kill him in a duel, he is a murderer by law; and if you are bound to find the prisoner Alcock guilty, you will be equally obliged to return a verdict of conviction against a gallant officer, under the circumstances which I have described. Yet, on the other hand, the military punishment and intolerable disgrace which must inevitably follow from his submitting to the affront, it cannot be necessary for me to dwell upon. If an aged, an infirm, a beloved, and respectable parent be insulted and reviled, or even struck and beaten in the presence of a son, and this latter happen to kill the assailant in a duel, the transaction will be murder; and, if you cannot acquit the prisoner, you could not acquit the child. If a husband find his wife in the embraces of another, and kill him unarmed and unresisting, this is manslaughter of the lowest and most venial kind. But if, giving the adulterer further time for preparation, and a fairer chance for his life, he puts arms in his

hands, and meets and kills him in a duel, the offence, altering its character, becomes at once murder; and if you are bound to convict the prisoner here, you would be also bound to a conviction in the case which I have supposed. Not because in morals the criminality is equal; but because both offences are murder in the eye of the law. But let me ask of your consciences and your hearts as men, could you convict the officer, the husband, or the son?

"I will not repeat, lest I might seem to inculcate, the austere doctrine of the law. In once stating it, I conceive that I have sufficiently discharged my painful duty. Nay, even sitting where I do, I think myself warranted in doubting whether this doctrine is not a sort of anomaly in our code; existing in theory, almost abrogated in practice, by the acuteness of the judges, the humanity of jurors, the mercy of the Crown. This, gentlemen, is all I have to say. The evidence is before you. If you believe it, you have heard its legal results from the bench. You have the law of the land bearing witness against the prisoner on the one hand, the law of opinion, on the other, endeavouring to excuse him; the one prescribing rigour, the other suggesting mercy. It is for you to pronounce which call you will obey! The trammels of my office forbid my adding more. But there is another, a far better voice than mine, to which, though I be silent, you may listen still. I mean that "still, small voice" of which you read in Scripture, and which addresses itself to the consciences of good and pious men in the soft and soothing accents of clemency and peace. Its dictates may be followed with a confidence the most explicit. It is the voice of Him who cannot err-who cannot lead his creatures into error -who, to justice without blemish, can unite mercy without bounds-who, all criminal as we are, can acquit us, and yet be just. To the influence of those secret and divine monitors, and (as far as human infirmity can follow) of this divine example, I surrender you, and commit the care of the prisoner at the bar. I wait with some anxiety and much impatience for your verdict. Judge, then, whether I am impatient for a capital conviction.'

"The jury, in one moment, acquitted the prisoner."

Mr. Townsend comments on this not very reasonably. "In a country where statesmen, members of parliament, lawyers, physicians, and country gentlemen,had measured their twelve paces, the stern dictates of the law ought rather have been urged." We think with juries, who tried this and similar cases, that the law of opinion is the law of the land, or is paramount to the law. By a change in that law of opinion,

and not in any other way, is it possible to prevent duelling. That change has arrived. But we are glad that in every part of the empire judges refused to make the effort of coercing juries to find verdicts against the common sense of the country. Had they done so, it seems to us probable that the custom of duelling would have survived some half century longer.

Some cases are mentioned of duels in Scotland where the survivor was acquitted; the judge telling the jury how it was impossible to disguise the truth, that the manners of the times, and the feelings of the people, were in direct opposition to the laws of the land, and then approving the verdicts of acquittal.

The Commissioners of Criminal Law, in their "Second Report" (1846), recommend the abolition of capital punishment in the case of duelling. Without reference to the distinctions between this offence and other cases of murder, they think it casts a stigma on the law to be unable to carry its sanctions into effect. If it says one thing and juries another, mischief, and nothing but mischief, is done, by leaving the law unaltered.

Let us not be supposed to vindicate the practice of duelling. We only quarrel with what has been proved by the experience of centuries to be an ineffective mode of getting rid of the evil. The trial of Mr. Stuart is, in all respects, an interesting one. In the high spirits which, perhaps, form an excuse for the wildest excesses of gaiety in a political writer-in some such exuberant spirits as animated Coleridge in his "Fire, Famine, and Slaughter”— Sir Alexander Boswell wrote a number of songs and pasquinades against persons politically opposed to him, and amongst others, against Stuart. We believe that the mere feeling of fun disguises from lively writers the pain they give, and that the persons lampooned or libelled can scarcely be said to have any personal existence to the mind of the writer who is so engaged. He exists as pure an abstraction as the Achilles or the Agamemnon of the Iliad. Sir Alexander Boswell was a man of great intellectual power, of very lively talents, and one whose verses, now that we suppose it is impossible they can give offence to any one, ought to be collected. Stuart was offended by the incessant attacks