affairs, than listen to these speculations of Lis. How shall I do it?"

"Sit down there, lad, and I'll tell thee. I've done the thing some scores of times, and know the words as well as I once knew my Pater.' Parbleu, I often wish I could remember that now, just to keep me from gloomy thoughts when I sit alone of an even ing.'

It was not a little to his astonishment, but still more to his delight. that I told the poor fellow I could help to refresh his memory, knowing, as I did, every word of the litanies by heart; and, accordingly, it was agreed on that I should impart religious instruction, in exchange for the secular knowledge he was conferring upon me.

"As for the petition," said Tronchon, seating himself opposite to me at the table, "it is soon done; for mark me, lad, these things must always be short; if thou be long-winded, they put thee away, and tell some of the clerks to look after thee-and there's an end of it. "Be brief, therefore, and next be legible write in a good, large round hand; just as, if thou wert speaking, thou wouldst talk with a fine, clear, distinct voice. Well then, begin thus:Republic of France, one and invincible! Make a flourish round that, lad, as if it came freely from the pen, When a man writes-FRANCE!' he should do it as he whirls his sabre round his head in a charge! Ay, just so.' I'm ready, Tronchon, go on.' "Mon General!' Nay, nay General mustn't be as large as France that's better. -yes, " The undersigned, whose certificates of service and conduct are herewith enclosed.' Stay, stop a moment, Tronchon; don't forget that I have got neither one or t'other. No matter; Ill make thee out both. Where was I?-Ay, 'herewith enclosed; and whose wounds, as the accompanying report will show "

"Wounds! I never received one." "No matter, I'll-eh-what? Feu d'enfer! how stupid I am! What have I been thinking of? Why, boy, it was a sick-furlough I was about to ask for; the only kind of petition I have ever had to write in a life long."

"And I am asking for active service."

"Ha! That came without asking for in my case."

"Then what's to be done, Tronchon? -clearly this wont do!"

He nodded sententiously an assent, and, after a moment's rumination, said

"It strikes me, lad, there can be no need of begging for that which usually comes unlooked for; but if thou don't choose to wait for thy billet for t'other world, but must go and seek it, the best way will be to up and tell the general as much."

"That was exactly my intention." "If he asks thee Cans't ride?' just say, 'Old Tronchon taught me;' he'll be one of the young hands, indeed, if he don't know that name! And mind, lad, have no whims or caprices about whatever service he names thee for, even were't the infantry itself! It's a hard word, that! I know it well! but a man must make up his mind for anything and everything. Wear any coat, go anywhere, face any enemy thou'rt ordered, and have none of those new-fangled notions about this general, or that army. Be a good soldier, and a good comrade. Share thy kit and thy purse to the last sous, for it will not only be generous in thee, but that so long as thou hoardest not, thou❜lt never be over eager for pillage. Mind these things, and with a stout heart and a sharp sabre, Maurice, 'tu ira loin.' Yes, I tell thee again, lad, tu ira loin.""

I give these three words as he said them, for they have rung in my ears throughout all my life long. In moments of gratified ambition, in the glorious triumph of success, they have sounded to me like the confirmed predictions of one who foresaw my elevation, in less prosperous hours. When fortune has looked dark and louring, they have been my comforter and support, telling me not to be downcast or depressed, that the season of sadness would soon pass away, and the road to fame and honour again open before me.

"You really think so, Tronchon? You think that I shall be something yet?"

"Tu ira loin,' I say," repeated he emphatically, and with the air of an oracle who would not suffer further interrogation. I therefore shook his hand cordially, and set out to pay my visit to the general.

Tuis is one of those books which it puzzles a reviewer to deal with. It contains a number of trials connected with state offences, or which, on one account or other, occupied a large share of public attention at the time of their occurrence. It is not very easy to give a definition of the word state trials; at least the editors of the collections published under that name have included in their books numerous cases unconnected with political of fences; we might find among them judicial investigations of private murders, of violence to females, of witchcraft, of perjury, brought together on no very intelligible principle. There seems no reason why the Recorder of Macclesfield should not follow the example set him by Emlyn and Hargrave; and he has accordingly not hesitated to introduce in the same volume, which contains the trials of Frost and O'Brien for high treason, and of O'Connell for conspiracy, reports of proceedings against Lord Cardigan for a duel, and Lord Stirling for forgery. We quarrel not with the title of the book, as it might not be easy to suggest one with any nearer approach to accuracy. Indeed, there seems little object in affecting any precision in such a matter; and Mr. Townsend ought, perhaps, to have been satisfied to give his book some such title as "Criminal Trials." The trials, of which reports are given in these volumes, are those of Frost, Oxford, and O'Brien, for high treason; of O'Connell for conspiracy; of Hunter and others for murder and conspiracy; of Stuart, Courvoisier, and M Naughten for murder; of Lord Cardigan for shooting in a duel; of Alexander Alexander, titular Earl of Stirling, for forgery; of Lord Cochrane for conspiracy; of Wakefield for conspiracy and abduction; of Williams for a libel on the Durham clergy; of Pinney, mayor of Bristol, for neglect of duty; and of Moxon for blasphemy; fifteen trials in all, every

one of which has some such peculiar feature of interest as well deserves preservation. "In making a selection," Mr. Townsend says, he "has endeavoured to preserve a faithful, but abridged report of such legal proceedings as would be most likely to command the attention of all members of the community, and to be read by them with pleasure and profit." The difficulty, however, of such a work is not the selection of the particular trials, but, as some process of abridgment is necessary, to determine on what principle that abridgment is to

be made.

The topics of most interest to a professional student are not those which engage public attention most. And again, those which engage public attention most at the time of the occurrence, are often those which have little bearing on the real question of the guilt or innocence of the party. Frost's trial, for instance, was of more value in a professional man's estimate, for the questions connected with the Crown's right of challenge, and the grounds on which it was argued, and the decision of the judges upon the time at which it was necessary to furnish the prisoner with a list of the witnesses, than for any of the after incidents of the trial. Yet these afterincidents are presented in full detail, especially when any personal repartee occurs between counsel. The play of words, uttered and forgotten, and deserving of nothing but instant oblivion, is thus sought to be given perma nence and importance, while all that requires more severe attention of mind is passed over, as not of a sufficiently popular character. We fear that Mr. Townsend has attempted things incompatible-a book useful, really useful to the student, and a book pleasant to glance over, the ornament for a few days or weeks of the drawing room or library-table, till some newer book occupy its place. In one respect, however, the book asserts a claim to high

clesfield.

affairs, than listen to these speculations of Lis. How shall I do it?"

"Sit down there, lad, and I'll tell thee. I've done the thing some scores of times, and know the words as well as I once knew my 'Pater.' Parbleu,

I often wish I could remember that now, just to keep me from gloomy thoughts when I sit alone of an evening.

It was not a little to his astonishment, but still more to his delight, that I told the poor fellow I could help to refresh his memory, knowing, as I did, every word of the litanies by heart; and, accordingly, it was agreed on that I should impart religious instruction, in exchange for the secular knowledge he was conferring upon me. "As for the petition," said Tronchon, seating himself opposite to me at the table, it is soon done; for mark me, lad, these things must always be short; if thou be long-winded, they put thee away, and tell some of the clerks to look after thee-and there's an end of it. "Be brief, therefore, and next be legible write in a good, large round hand; just as, if thou wert speaking, thou wouldst talk with a fine, clear, distinct voice. Well then, begin thus:Republic of France, one and invincible!' Make a flourish round that, lad, as if it came freely from the pen, When a man writes-FRANCE!' he should do it as he whirls his sabre round his head in a charge! Ay, just so." I'm ready, Tronchon, go on." "Mon General!' Nay, nay General mustn't be as large as France -yes, that's better. The undersigned, whose certificates of service and conduct are herewith enclosed.' Stay, stop a moment, Tronchon; don't forget that I have got neither one or t'other. No matter; Ill make thee out both. Where was I?-Ay, 'herewith enclosed; and whose wounds, as the accompanying report will show—"

66

6

"Wounds! I never received one." "No matter, I'll-eh-what? Feu d'enfer! how stupid I am! What have I been thinking of? Why, boy, it was a sick-furlough I was about to ask for; the only kind of petition I have ever had to write in a life long."

"And I am asking for active service."

"Ha! That came without asking for in my case."

"Then what's to be done, Tronchon? -clearly this wont do!"

He nodded sententiously an assent, and, after a moment's rumination, said

"It strikes me, lad, there can be no need of begging for that which usually comes unlooked for; but if thou don't choose to wait for thy billet for t'other world, but must go and seek it, the best way will be to up and tell the general as much."

"That was exactly my intention."

"If he asks thee Cans't ride?' just say, 'Old Tronchon taught me;' he'll be one of the young hands, indeed, if he don't know that name! And mind, lad, have no whims or caprices about whatever service he names thee for, even were't the infantry itself! It's a hard word, that! I know it well! but a man must make up his mind for anything and everything. Wear any coat, go anywhere, face any enemy thou'rt ordered, and have none of those new-fangled notions about this general, or that army. Be a good soldier, and a good comrade. Share thy kit and thy purse to the last sous, for it will not only be generous in thee, but that so long as thou hoardest not, thou'lt never be over eager for pillage. Mind these things, and with a stout heart and a sharp sabre, Maurice, 'tu ira loin.' Yes, I tell thee again, lad, 'tu ira loin.""

I give these three words as he said them, for they have rung in my ears throughout all my life long. In moments of gratified ambition, in the glorious triumph of success, they have sounded to me like the confirmed predictions of one who foresaw my elevation, in less prosperous hours. When fortune has looked dark and louring, they have been my comforter and support, telling me not to be downcast or depressed, that the season of sadness would soon pass away, and the road to fame and honour again open before me.

"You really think so, Tronchon? You think that I shall be something yet?"

"Tu ira loin,' I say," repeated he emphatically, and with the air of an oracle who would not suffer further interrogation. I therefore shook his hand cordially, and set out to pay my visit to the general.

Tins is one of those books which it puzzles a reviewer to deal with. It contains a number of trials connected with state offences, or which, on one account or other, occupied a large share of public attention at the time of their occurrence. It is not very easy to give a definition of the word state trials; at least the editors of the collections published under that name have included in their books numerous cases unconnected with political of fences; we might find among them judicial investigations of private murders, of violence to females, of witchcraft, of perjury, brought together on no very intelligible principle. There seems no reason why the Recorder of Macclesfield should not follow the example set him by Emlyn and Hargrave; and he has accordingly not hesitated to introduce in the same volume, which contains the trials of Frost and O'Brien for high treason, and of O'Connell for conspiracy, reports of proceedings against Lord Cardigan for a duel, and Lord Stirling for forgery. We quarrel not with the title of the book, as it might not be easy to suggest one with any nearer approach to accuracy. Indeed, there seems little object in affecting any precision in such a matter; and Mr. Townsend ought, perhaps, to have been satisfied to give his book some such title as "Criminal Trials." The trials, of which reports are given in these volumes, are those of Frost, Oxford, and O'Brien, for high treason; of O'Connell for conspiracy; of Hunter and others for murder and conspiracy; of Stuart, Courvoisier, and M'Naughten for murder; of Lord Cardigan for shooting in a duel; of Alexander Alexander, titular Earl of Stirling, for forgery; of Lord Cochrane for conspiracy; of Wakefield for conspiracy and abduction; of Williams for a libel on the Durham clergy; of Pinney, mayor of Bristol, for neglect of duty; and of Moxon for blasphemy; fifteen trials in all, every

*

66

one of which has some such peculiar feature of interest as well deserves preservation. In making a selection," Mr. Townsend says, he "has endeavoured to preserve a faithful, but abridged report of such legal proceedings as would be most likely to command the attention of all members of the community, and to be read by them with pleasure and profit." The difficulty, however, of such a work is not the selection of the particular trials, but, as some process of abridgment is necessary, to determine on what principle that abridgment is to be made. The topics of most interest to a professional student are not those which engage public attention most. And again, those which engage public attention most at the time of the occurrence, are often those which have little bearing on the real question of the guilt or innocence of the party. Frost's trial, for instance, was of more value in a professional man's estimate, for the questions connected with the Crown's right of challenge, and the grounds on which it was argued, and the decision of the judges upon the time at which it was necessary to furnish the prisoner with a list of the witnesses, than for any of the after incidents of the trial. Yet these afterincidents are presented in full detail, especially when any personal repartee occurs between counsel. The play of words, uttered and forgotten, and deserving of nothing but instant oblivion, is thus sought to be given permanence and importance, while all that requires more severe attention of mind is passed over, as not of a sufficiently popular character. We fear that Mr. Townsend has attempted things incompatible-a book useful, really useful to the student, and a book pleasant to glance over, the ornament for a few days or weeks of the drawing room or library-table, till some newer book occupy its place. In one respect, however, the book asserts a claim to high

consideration; and this gives it a great and enduring value:

"In the extracts here given from some of the most celebrated speeches of modern days, the editor has also had the great advantage of the last corrections of the speakers themselves, and has thus been enabled to preserve the ipsissima verba, by which minds were captivated and verdicts won; those treasures of oratory which would have gladdened the old age of Erskine, could he have seen how his talisman had been passed from hand to hand, and the mantle of his inspiration caught. The vivid appeals of Whiteside, the magnificent defence of Cockburn, the persuasive imagery of Talfourd, will exist as Kтýμaтa és aiei, trophies of forensic eloquence, beacon lights it may be, in the midst of that prosaic mistiness which has begun to creep around our courts. In an age which abjures imagination, few figures are now prized save those of the countinghouse!"

That the reports of their speeches should be revised by eminent men is, no doubt, most desirable. Still we think that, even after this, it would be well that some process of mere abridgment should be adopted-nothing introduced by the editor-nothing of substance, or even of vivid or peculiar turns of language omitted. There is, necessarily perhaps, in all spoken language, and particularly in the language of the Bar, as distinguished from that of Parliament and places of public business, an amplitude and redundancy of phrase that could be trimmed away with great advantage words that we have no doubt were uttered, but which, with the unnumbered specimens we have of forensic oratory, might be safely left to the imagination as the common property of all the learned brethren of the mystery, and, in some day, from which, however, we are probably some half-century distant, to be numbered as among the pomps and vanities which are altogether to be eschewed.

Mr. Townsend marks emphatically the favourable contrast between the state trials of our days and all that have preceded them :

"The humanising influence of a century's civilisation has not been poured in vain upon our courts, every part of which, whether we regard the judges, counsel, or jurors, seems radiant with justice in mercy.

"We are wiser than our forefathers, for we are more humane, and the judgments of the Bench command universal assent, since

who can doubt its anxiety to be just? In comparison with the calm intelligence and serene urbanity of C. J. Tindal, even the demeanour of Holt, with his sharp 'Sirrah' to the prisoner, and Look ye, sirs,' to counsel, looks harsh and austere. The technicalities and bald language of Sir Bartholomew Shower appear still more unfavourable to those who have read the legal arguments and impassioned addresses of Sir F. Pollock and Sir Fitzroy Kelly. There occurs now no unseemly wrangling with the Bar, no caustic and misplaced reviling of a prisoner such an incident would be deemed too strange for fiction-no hard words or hanging,' the last only on occasions of rare necessity, for there is no judge like Page. Whether in reference to the profound ability of the venerable magistrates who presidedone is still happily preserved to grace and dignify and inform the profession-or to the acuteness and eloquence of the counsel who prosecuted and defended-to the clear arrangement of proofs-to the arguments on points of law, or to the equable attention of the jury, who, in their anxiety for the truth, never betrayed, during an investigation of eight days, impatience or weariness; the lawyer, who rejoices in the honour of the gown, may point with proud satisfaction to the trial of John Frost under the special commission at Monmouth, which distinguished the close of 1839 and the first week of 1840. Rarely has there occurred a more grave case for solemn judicial inquiry. It scarcely seemed credible, at a time of profound peace, when work was abundant, and wages high, and provisions plentiful, that thousands of workmen, chiefly miners, should have been assembled on the hills above Newport on a Sunday night in November, according to previous concert, many of them armed with guns and pikes, to make a midnight attack on a peaceable town. It sounded more like a romance than a chapter of domestic history; and resembled rather the irruption of Indian savages upon the wigwams of some unoffending settlers, than the assemblage of fellow-countrymen. But for the tempestuousness of the night, which delayed the meeting of the three separate bands, commanded by Frost, Zachariah Williams, and Jones the watchmaker of Pontypool, who had undertaken to collect 10,000 men, the inhabitants of Newport would have been surprised in their sleep, and been exposed to the fury and excesses of an undisciplined multitude. The largest portion of these lawless marauders, under the guidance of Frost, arrived in the suburbs between eight and nine on Monday morning, Nov. 4, 5,000 in number, and attacked the little inn, in which a small detachment of the Queen's troops, under Lieutenant Grey, thirty in all, were drawn up. Taught by the disasters of Bristol, the troops entered into no parleying, no waving of caps, no shaking of hands with the mob. Thrusts