It is very difficult to say whether the change in the practice of our courts, by which prisoners are allowed counsel for their defence, is a real advantage to them or not. It is probable that in most cases the right of reply conceded to the prosecution, and the loss of that assistance which the judge formerly thought himself bound to afford the accused person, more than balances the advantage of a practised defender. Indeed the privilege of reply on the part of the public prosecutor seems a rank injustice. He brings the charge with all his materials prepared; he is bound to establish all the facts clearly, and at once, so as to leave no reasonable doubt. The prisoner replies by his counsel to an accusation made; and if that reply is satisfactory to the jury, the trial should end there, with the summing-up of the evidence, and the exposition of the law by the judge. Can any equitable motive be shown for granting the accuser the last word? I do not think it. The impression made by the speech of the counsel for the defence on the trial of Chandos Winslow was very great. It carried the jury completely away with it; and one of them whispered to another, that he did not think they need hear any more evidence. It seemed to him that there was no case for the prosecution. The bar, who regarded it critically, praised it amongst themselves very much, and took especial notice of the manner in which, as one of them expressed it, "Sir ---- got lightly over the soft ground." They were not all sure of Chandos Winslow's innocence; and during the greater part of the speech, they even doubted whether the learned counsel would get a verdict, though they generally agreed he ought. But at the end, when he so boldly declared that he could prove an unexceptionable alibi, their opinions changed, for they knew he was not a rash man, or one to risk the whole success of his case by a mode of defence the slightest shade of suspicion attaching to which, would strengthen every unfavourable impression regarding his client.