he had only killed an old woman who could not have lived much longer anyhow; it was two lives against one; and he wouldn't hang the man, not he. Others were for a conviction on grounds equally ridiculous. Fortunately for the poor doctor, all at length agreed on a verdict of "Not guilty."
Many a verdict is, we may be sure, only that of a majority, acquiesced in by dissentients anxious to be spared a troublesome discussion, and sensible enough to prevent their foreman announcing, as the foreman of a Limerick jury did, that they were "Unanimous—nine to three," in finding the prisoner not guilty. Of course the "unanimous" party had to retire again, and of course returned the same verdict, and the accused was discharged. Being grateful for his escape, he promised, as he was leaving the court, that it would be his last as well as his first offence, oblivious of the fact that the jury had decided that he had done nothing at all.
Physical arguments have been used by a majority when more legitimate ones failed. A juryman once asked a judge whether his differing in judgment from his eleven brethren justified his being knocked down with a chair. In the case of another jury, one, at dispersal, was heard to say to another, "Only I threatened to kick him, he'd never agreed." In America they would appear to have a gentler method of insuring unanimity. When Abraham Lincoln had to defend a fellow charged with stealing half-a-dozen prime hogs, the case against his client was so clearly proved that he told him as much. Not at all discomfited, the accused said, "Never mind about that; just abuse the witnesses, and spread yourself on general principles, and it will be all right." Sure enough it was so; to Lincoln's astonishment the jury brought in a verdict of "Not guilty." Congratulating his client on the result, he could not help saying that the affair was past his understanding. The rogue's explanation set his wonder at rest. "Well, Squire," said he, "you see, every one of them 'ere fellows had a piece of them hogs."
In a libel case tried in Louisiana, the losing counsel demanded a new trial, offering to prove, by the evidence of the foreman of the jury, that one of the jurors had received a letter offering a bribe; by the evidence of one of the court officers, that he had delivered such a letter; and by other evidence, that one of the jurors had owned to accepting a bribe, and that the foreman had been in constant communication with outside parties. The application was dismissed, the judge ruling, "that no juror must disclose what happened in the jury-room; that the confession of a juror could not be used to impeach his verdict; and that the person to whom the incriminating note was addressed could not testify to receiving it. The verdict had been rendered and registered, and could not be disturbed.
A counsel trying to make the best of a bad case insisted that there was some evidence in favor of the view he wished the jury to take. When he had done, Mr. Justice Maule said to the jury: "The learned counsel is perfectly right in his law; there is some evidence upon that point: but he's a lawyer, and you're not lawyers, and don't know what he means by 'some evidence;' so I'll tell you. Suppose there was an action on a bill of exchange, and six people swore they saw the defendant accept it, and six others swore they heard him say he should have to pay it, and six others knew him intimately, and swore to his handwriting; and suppose on the other side, they called a poor old man who had been at school with the defendant forty years before, and had not seen him since, and who said he rather thought the acceptance was not in his hand writing; why, there would be some evidence that it was not,—and that's what the learned counsel means in this case." This apt illustration was too much for the jurymen; they had seen their way clearly enough before, but found it necessary to retire and solve the judge's abstruse conundrum ere they could agree upon their verdict. Another bothered jury we suspect was that Amer-
