with great respect when on their seats, always addressed by the title of gentlemen,' yet when away, will hardly receive from them a passing notice of recognition. People make way for them whenever they go in or come out of the Hall in a body, and they have the privilege of spitting on whomsoever and on whatsoever they please, provided it be not on the Moof'tee himself.

These several persons thus assembled constitute what is called a Tribunal of Justice. Of the three parts that compose this tribunal, the most efficient, and the one the people most depend upon to maintain and dispense justice, is the jury. The system of juries is much prized and highly extolled both here and in England, not only as the true, but almost the only safeguard to personal liberty. Any individual, whatsoever may be his station in life, color or capacity, may practice as a lawyer, provided he has previously gone through a prescribed course of study; and the judges who are the expounders of the law, who should be men of great capacity as well as deeply learned, are appointed more often as a reward for their political services than for legal wisdom; it follows therefore that on the uprightness, intelligence and natural sagacity of twelve men called jurors, mainly rest the life, liberty and civil rights of the whole community. One would imagine that a body of men on whom devolves such important trusts would be chosen with the strictest regard for their fitness for their high and responsible office, yet this is by no means the case.

On a certain day an officer of the court throws into a box a number of pieces of paper, on which are written the names of persons whom he thinks ought to serve as jurors. He has no personal knowledge of them, probably never saw one of them, knows nothing of their fitness for the duty, and has no regard to their station, condition or private character. As a proof of this indifference of choice, if it happen, as is not unusual, that one who has been regularly drawn to serve, should be absent, his place is immediately supplied by the officer taking the first who may chance to be near him. The names being drawn from the box, these men thus chosen are assembled in the hall just spoken of, placed on the seats allotted to them, there to listen to the most complicated cases as they are expounded to them by the lawyers engaged on each side, who by the by as often bewilder as enlighten; after which they retire to a private room, there to decide unanimously upon the guilt or innocence of the party accused.

You will I think at once say that this is hap-hazard work to arrive at justice; that these men cannot all be capable of forming a correct opinion on matters they have suddenly been called from their accustomed occupations to decide upon, and that the chance is equal whether justice or injustice is declared.

There are other causes which operate to prevent the verdict of the jury being the deliberate conviction of the mind of each individual juror. When in the case of criminal actions the law is severe, the jury is inclined to temper it with mercy, and to bring in a verdict for a lesser offence, however strong may be the proof of

the guilt of the accused; this is done in violation of their oaths to be governed in their decision solely by law and evidence. Beside, a strong disinclination is now manifest against capital punishments; so much so, that if the jury find that by their verdict this would be inflicted, they come into court and declare their inability to agree, one dissentient being of course sufficient to prevent unanimity. When this occurs (and it does frequently) the court discharges them and orders a new trial. This want of agreement among jurors is become common in this country, even in civil suits, and is a sign either that a defect exists in the law, or that the duty of jurors is considered as a burden from which they seek to be relieved, by throwing it on to a new panel. By the English practice, jurors are kept together till they do agree. This is almost like the ancient torture to produce confession, only it is a milder form of coercion. Yet it does not bring conviction to a juror's mind, for a man is not sooner convinced of a point upon an empty stomach than on a full Wherefore he of the jury who has most power of endurance draws assent from the others, and thus becomes sole master of the fate of the accused. Yet the law calls this uniformity of opinion. It is any thing but that. Further, even in civil suits it is not uncommon to form a verdict by compromise among the jurors.

one.

If when the jury do not agree, and the disagreement turns upon a matter of law, the judge gives explanations by which to show wherein the law applies to the case. And here a new obstacle occurs to prevent the verdict of a jury being the unbiased opinion of all and each. One of the greatest difficulties in the way of a juror is, where guilt is mixed partly of facts and partly of law. A juror is not likely to possess a knowledge of the law: he cannot tell whether the act committed had that peculiar character which by law makes it a crime; of course he must rely upon the judge to state what the law is, as applicable to the facts. Now the judge may be full of legal knowledge, yet he may by passion or prejudice be warped in judgment, and give to the law a leaning its framers never contemplated; moreover, he may at the same time undertake to comment upon the matters of fact. In both cases the effect must be injurious to the independence of the jury. They will naturally place implicit faith on the interpretation of the law as given to them from the bench; and although they are not bound to heed the comments, yet their minds are liable to be swayed thereby. Hence an influence is created by the judge, and the greater this influence, whether derived from learning or character, the weaker will be the power of the jury to resist its effect, so that at last it may come, that one man is both judge and jury, while all the forms of justice are observed.

Neither is a juror always aided by the counsel. If he listen to the arguments on both sides with the attention he is bound to give, he is not always sure of having a clear view of the merits of the case, for one lawyer with a bad cause may have the greatest ability to persuade; the other, who has justice on his side, may yet be deficient in the art of making it apparent. He cannot with composure

weigh in his mind the arguments on each side while the counsel are absorbed in the examination or in the heat of their address. He has not the advantage possessed by the judge of being able to fix the attention on one subject, especially one he is not familiar with, nor has he an opportunity of taking notes to refresh his memory or aid his reflections. On the whole, the rigid impartiality looked for in the jury system is not always to be relied upon, and it may be a question whether, under its present form and practice, it is so perfect a safeguard to the rights of individuals as is imagined by those who live under it.

Trial by jury was practiced among the christians at a very early period of their history. Its existence may be traced as far back as the eighth century of the era of the christians (about the two hundredth year of the Hegira) when it prevailed among the Scandinavian tribes. It was not however always resorted to. The feudal knights were too arrogant to permit persons lower than their order to assume the right of adjusting their disputes: hence the wager of battle was instituted; yet this was ot of universal practice, being applied to at last only by the weak and aged. Then came the ordeal, or appeal to Heaven, instituted by the clergy to keep up their influence, by imposing upon the minds of the superstitious. So low were the masses sunk in ignorance, that the clergy believed a miracle must be resorted to for the purpose of moving them accordingly one was manufactured to suit the times. The lowest jugglery was often practiced to deceive the ignorant to condemn the innocent, and permit the guilty to escape. After this, the trial by jury came into universal use, and has continued to be the law of England and this country a great number of years. Like all human institutions it is not perfect, and the progress of civilization, which has produced such changes in the conduct and moral sentiments of mankind, der a modification of the system absolutely necessary.

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In Egypt it is certain it cannot be made to work; and happily for us we have a ruler whose great wisdom and impartiality supersede the use of such an institution. Our Basha, on whom be blessings! has a way which shows that he can unite in his person the two qualities of judge and juror. In one of his journeys into the interior, a cultivator of the soil appeared before him, to complain that his only cow, on which depended the support of his wife and children, had been forcibly taken from him for rent, and he was now destitute. Such a flagrant act of oppression was not to be borne; so his High ness lost no time in finding another person with two cows, one of which he took and gave to him who complained. This was a summary way of redressing a wrong. No bill of indictment was found, for the crime was apparent; no counsel wasted time in arguing for or against the parties; no judge summed up the evidence or explained the law; in a twinkling, justice was administered, and property distributed with an equal hand. The man who had suffered was made whole from his loss, and the man of two cows still had one left, for which he was grateful. He did not offend our lord and master by a murmur, well knowing that this is disrespectful.

Letter Twenty-fifth.

FROM THE SAME то THE SAME.

A CUSTOM prevails here among literary and scientific men, who have neither inclination nor leisure to write books, to deliver public discourses on such topics as they are familiar with, and which may be interesting to those who seek knowledge by an easy road. The practice has many advantages; it gives a young man of abilities an opportunity of displaying them, whereby in the end he may acquire literary or scientific reputation, while at the same time it conveys to the unlearned more instruction by listening an hour than can be obtained by a whole day of reading. A listener may not always, in so short space of time, acquire a great deal of positive knowledge, but this is just within his reach, by awakening his mind to facts he knew little of before, and by the method pointed out by the lecturer, to make these facts subservient to his enjoyment or improvement. You must not imagine that all those who deliver discourses are equally gifted in learning, or that all have equal power of fixing the attention of their audience. Some of these discourses are poor in composition; some might pass as being good, but are delivered in a dull way; on the other hand, many are well written and well recited, so that they have the effect to quicken the thoughts and excite the curiosity to know more of the subject under discussion.

Occasionally I have been present at these exhibitions, induced by a wish to see as much as possible of the ways of the people, as well as by a desire to increase my stock of knowledge. A short time since I listened to a person who delivered a discourse upon Civilization, its rise and progress. The orator's matter and manner were both good, yet I was not satisfied; my mind was not filled. After he had finished, I thought there was much more to know, and that he had not entered into the subject quite deep enough. This state of mind induced a long train of reflection, which determined me to attempt to gratify my desire from my own stock of ideas, aided by the writings of those of the learned who had thrown light upon a question so deeply interesting to every thinking person. When I sat down to the task I had imposed upon myself, it appeared less easy than I had imagined. When I drew up the curtain and looked about for materials to work with, I was sorely puzzled to know how to begin, or rather was at a loss to discover where the beginning was to be found. I consulted several books, and soon saw that the authors did not begin at what I considered the true commencement. They took civilization after it had been planted, and then marked its progress. This is not going back far enough. Robertson, Guizot, and others, have all treated very ably on the matter, but they begin at the fall of the Roman empire; when, to be sure, the world was thrown into darkness, and civilization was almost extinct, while arts, science, literature, and even morals, were nearly forgotten. Then they speak of the progress of society; of individuals; amelioration of the social system; ex

pansion of the faculties of man; without considering that civilization had once flourished, and that records were still in existence to show how it had reached an exalted state, and by what means it was lost. A feeble ray of light still shone on the path of improvement, where might be found means to recover the lost blessing; something was still visible to found civilization upon. The sky was dim, but the darkness was not total. The Romans in their fall left roots which remained long in a dormant state, yet still retained life; when dug up from beneath the rubbish that had collected over them, and carefully tended, they budded and brought forth goodly fruit in given time.

This is the starting-point of most authors I have read. In beginning after this manner, the hardest part of the labor is already done; they have only to dwell on exterior circumstances; to mark the events and revolutions of the social system, and see where it brings man out. It does not occur to them to go farther back and look deeper, to enter into the interior of man's nature, to display his natural faculties, and describe the change of his ideas when he is left alone to his own workings. I incline to the opinion that civilization is not a particular fact, but rather a gradual change produced on men's minds by a desire to improve their condition; an effort to develope their inherent powers. It is a remove from the primitive or savage state, whereby in the first place man's physical, then moral condition, is improved, and afterward, his political.

In the savage state, man's food depends on game, which is perhaps eaten raw, or baked in the sun. In warm climates he goes almost if not quite naked, and in cold climates he covers himself with skins, which he rudely sews together with the sinews of the animals he kills. His mind is a blank, on which very few images are painted. He thinks only of what is before him, and how he shall keep in life, regardless of those who are nearest to him. He cannot count beyond the number of his fingers, and only by these because they happen to be present to his sense of sight and touch. He sees the effect of the wind and the lightning, hears the thunder, and thinks an angry spirit threatens his life; sees the bright sun, and the fields covered with flowers, and the trees bearing fruit, and then believes another more benevolent spirit watches over him and ministers to his wants. All this, in a certain sense, is tangible; but his idea of a Supreme Creator, Upholder and All-wise Governor, is so confused that he cannot in any way explain it to himself; and his actions are but little influenced by these visible objects of nature. He moves and breathes, but his soul is a clod without life-giving spirit it has no elevation; it crawls on the earth; is grovelling, earthly.

I now think I hear you say, 'You have found your beginning.' I think so too. My man is low enough; if he had counted with his toes instead of his fingers, he would have been not lower, intellectually. Let us therefore take him by the hand and go a-head. To say that an ignorant people can of themselves perform acts whereby they can cast off their rudeness and make an advance toward civili