instrumentality for ascertaining legal truth, which is so cumbersome in
its operation, and so uncertain in its results. A jury is, at best, a
means, and not an end; and although much may be said about the
incidental usefulness of jury service on account of its tendency to
enlarge the intellectual horizon of jurors, all that is beside the main
question.

Whether a particular occurrence took place or not, is a question which,
whether it be tried by a judge or by a jury, must be decided upon
evidence; which consists, in part, of circumstances, and, in part, of
acts, but in part also, and very largely, of the sworn statements of
individuals. While falsehood and corruption prevail among all classes of
the community so extensively as they now do, it is useless to claim that
decisions based upon human testimony are always or generally correct.
Perjury is as rife as ever, and works as much wrong as ever. To a
conscientious judge, like Judge Pitman, "the investigation of a mass of
tangled facts and conflicting testimony" cannot but be wearisome, as he
says it is; and, in many cases, the sense of responsibility "cannot but
be oppressive;" but he has so often repeated a _dictum_ of Lord
Redesdale that he must be presumed to have found solace in it--"it is
more important that an end be put to litigation, than that justice
should be done in every case." There is truth in that _dictum_; but,
like other truths, it has often been abused, especially by incompetent
or lazy or drowsy judges. More unfortunate suitors have suffered as
martyrs to that truth than the judges who jauntily "cast" them would
admit.

Judges may do their best; juries may do their best; they will often fall
into error; and instead of glorifying themselves or the system of which
they are a part, it would be more modest in them to say, "We are