a wide distinction, in murder trials, between him who
committed the crime in a passion and those who did the thing quietly;
so that you had only to walk up to the person who had offended you,
and shoot him in the open street, to feel tolerably sure of impunity.
In short, there seems to have prevailed, at that time, north of Mason
and Dixon's line, very much the same state of things that still
prevails south of it; but there was other leaven at work, and the good
sense of the people gradually got the better of this short-sighted
folly of violence.

It is reported as fact, by all writers on the earlier history of this
State, that the holding of courts was conducted very much in the style
reported of the back counties of Georgia and Alabama in our day. The
sheriff would go out into the court-yard and say to the people, "Come
in, boys,--the court is going to begin,"--or sometimes, "Our John is
going to open court now,"--the judge being just one of the "boys."

Judges did not like to take upon themselves the _onus_ of deciding
cases, but shared it with the jury as far as possible. One story, well
authenticated, runs thus: A certain judge, having to pass sentence of
death upon one of his neighbors, did it in the following form: "Mr.
Green, the jury in their verdict say you are guilty of murder, and the
law in that case says you are to be hung. Now I want you and all your
friends down on Indian Creek to know that it is not me that condemns
you, but the jury and the law. What time would you like to be hung,
Sir?" The poor man replied, that it made no difference to him; he
would rather the court should appoint a time. "Well, then, Mr. Green,"
says the judge, "the court will allow you four weeks' time to prepare
for death and settle up your business." It was here suggested by the
Attorney-General that it was usual in such cases for the court to
recapitulate the essential parts of the evidence, to set forth the
nature and enormity of the crime, and solemnly to exhort the prisoner
to repent and fit himself for the awful doom awaiting him. "Oh!" said
the judge, "Mr. Green understands all that as well as if I had
preached to him a month. Don't you, Mr. Green? You understand you're
to be hung this day four weeks?" "Yes, Sir," replied Mr. Green, and so
the matter ended.

One legal brilliant blazes on the forehead of youthful Illinois, in
the shape of a summary remedy for duelling. One of those heroes who
think it safer to appeal to