to sustain the prosecution who proved that the
prisoner had been engaged in the rebellion, and
that they saw him kill White with a pike.
When the case for the crown was closed, and a
certain conviction anticipated, Mr. Bushe said
he had one witness, and only one, but upon his
evidence he should confidently look for an
acquittal. He then placed James White, the
yeoman, in the witness-box, who swore
positively that he was alive, and had never been
killed by a pike or otherwise. The judge very
naturally considering the case at an end, left it
to the jury to pronounce their verdict, and after
due deliberation they returned one, finding the
prisoner guilty. "Guilty!" exclaimed the
astounded baron, "how can you convict a man of
murder when the person alleged to have been
killed is alive and in court looking at you?"
"Oh! my lord," said the foreman, "the prisoner
ruined a grey horse of mine, one of the finest in
the kingdom, and as under the indemnity he will
escape punishment for that, we are determined
to hang him on the charge of murder!" It
may be easily conceived that they were
disappointed in their very merciful determination.
The openness of jury trials and the facilities
they afford to elicit the truth and encourage the
talent for eloquence, are strong incitements to
ambition and exertion on the part of the advocate.
Grateful to the fearless independence of
juries in past times for the preservation of our
liberties, we hope to see the system improve
and be perpetual.

ITALIAN SAILORS.

AMONG the many projects which agitate Italy
at this present moment, one of the foremost is
the creation of a navy, and of all the ambitions
which derive their impulse from the past, there
is not one more reasonable than this. Venice
and Genoa have not lost the magic of their
names to this people, and there is no reason why
regenerated Italy should not be as great and
powerful on sea as on land.

All conversant with the Mediterranean have
long recognised the admirable qualities of the
Sardinian sailors, and have remarked their ships
as models of cleanliness and order. Small as the
old navy of Sardinia was, it was an arm on which
every succeeding government bestowed great
care and attention. The Naval College at Genoa
received a large subsidy from the state, and the
educational course was both long and severe.
Practically, also, the Sardinians, copying the
English system, established a school-ship, which
is put in commission every summer, and
continues to cruise about the Mediterranean for
four or five months. This vessel, a small
gunbrig, is entirely manned and officered by naval
cadets, excepting her commander and one
subordinate officer. All on board are in the state
of pupilage, and thus these cadets learn everything,
even to the most minute detail of their
profession, practically. We are all aware that
continental nations lay a far greater stress than
we do on this sort of acquirement. It is part
and parcel of all their military discipline, and
they cannot be brought to believe that a man
can command a company with credit or efficiency
who has not himself performed duty in the
ranks, and passed through every office and every
gradation in the life of a soldier.

Our yachting and boat-racing habits educate
our young men with very different powers of
bodily strength and endurance from those
possessed by the lounging and dissolute youth of a
continental city, just as our field-sports and
Alpine clubs introduce a very different measure
in sustaining fatigue and encountering peril. It
is, therefore, very possible that the system of
physical training is more of moment to them
than to us, and of its success in Italy there
cannot be a doubt.

When Alfieri said, the "plant— man, in Italy
grew luxuriously and well," he did no more than
justice to his country. For every quality of
strength and activity the Italian has no superior
in Europe. Without referring to the oft-quoted
fact that a large majority of the professed
athletes of the Continent are supplied by the
peninsula, let any who vaunts himself for a
peculiar gymnastic exercise compete with an
Italian! Take swimming, for instance. We in
England believe that this is an accomplishment
we are strong in. We imagine that,
pertaining as it does to the habits of a seafaring
people, we ought naturally to be pre-eminent
in it. If we indulge any such fancies in Italy
we shall soon discover our mistake, and I would
not advise even some of the best of our
amateurs rashly to challenge an Italian, to a
trial at this exercise. It is only a year ago I
myself saw an old sea comrade of Lord Byron's
—General Meneyaldo, the same mentioned in
Moore's Life as swimming so often with
Byron — spring from his boat into the blue Gulf
of Genoa, and take a stretch of upwards of a
mile, and this at above eighty years of age.

Of course the temperature of the water largely
contributes to this. It would not be possible
to remain in our colder Northern seas for the
same length of time. One can stay in the
Mediterranean without the slightest detriment,
and there are few who could face a swim of
three or four hours on an Atlantic swell, though
such an exploit on the Mediterranean is an everyday
occurrence.

With the exception of the Breton no Frenchman
can rival the Italian in aptitude for the sea.
The Italian is not only superior in strength and
activity, but in quietness of decision and
promptitude. None but men of great physical powers,
bold, ready-witted, and energetic, could manage
that "lateen sail" which every felucca carries—
the most dangerous rig to all but the Italian — but
which he handles with perfect safety and skill.
Nor is the least of their qualities their sobriety.
Drunkenness is almost unknown in the Italian
navy. The liberty men of a Sardinian ship-of-war
may be seen on shore, walking along hand in
hand, singing, it may be, some popular national
hymn — some glorious tribute to the King or
Garibaldi (whose sailor origin is dear to the