o fragments in five minutes." I am inclined to suspect that
it was a _jeu d'esprit_ of historical antiquarianism, concocted by Birch
and his friends the Yorkes, with whom, as it is well known, he was
concerned in a more elegant literary recreation, the composition of the
Athenian Letters. The blunder of George Chalmers has been repeated in
numerous publications throughout Europe and in America. I think it
better to correct the text by this notice than by a silent suppression,
that it may remain a memorable instance of the danger incurred by the
historian from forged documents; and a proof that multiplied authorities
add no strength to evidence, when nil are to be traced to a single
source.]

TRIALS AND PROOFS OF GUILT IN SUPERSTITIOUS AGES.

The strange trials to which those suspected of guilt were put in the
middle ages, conducted with many devout ceremonies by the ministers of
religion, were pronounced to be the _judgments of God_! The ordeal
consisted of various kinds: walking blindfold amidst burning
ploughshares; passing through fires; holding in the hand a red-hot bar;
and plunging the arm into boiling water: the popular affirmation--"I
will put my hand in the fire to confirm this," was derived from this
custom of our rude ancestors. Challenging the accuser to single combat,
when frequently the stoutest champion was allowed to supply their place;
swallowing a morsel of consecrated bread; sinking or swimming in a river
for witchcraft; or weighing a witch; stretching out the arms before the
cross, till the champion soonest wearied dropped his arms, and lost his
estate, which was decided by this very short chancery suit, called the
_judicium crucis_. The bishop of Paris and the abbot of St. Denis
disputed about the patronage of a monastery: Pepin the Short, not being
able to decide on their confused claims, decreed one of these judgments
of God, that of the Cross. The bishop and abbot each chose a man, and
both the men appeared in the chapel, where they stretched out their arms
in the form of a cross. The spectators, more devout than the mob of the
present day, but still the mob, were piously attentive, but _betted_
however now for one man, now for the other, and critically watched the
slightest motion of the arms. The bishop's man was first tired:--he let
his arms fall, and ruined his patron's cause for ever. Though sometimes
these trials might be eluded by the artifice of the priest, numerous
were the inno