They certainly left no stone unturned in Canada to find out details in matters of treason or libel. The _John Bull_ and other English papers handled some cases without gloves; but it was reserved for Canada to show what could be done with printers’ ink. The type fairly flew into place under the willing fingers of compositors who were also politicians. Minerva in the printing office is oftentimes undignified. She seems to have been particularly so in the case of _Le Canadien_, a paper founded in 1806. Its wood-cut frontispiece had the arms and emblems of Canada, with two beavers hard at work biting the slender tie which attached the scroll to the insignia of Great Britain, and, of course, a suitable motto. Two reporters of that stormy time added to the excitement of the Assembly by throwing assafœtida on the stoves. The odour was insupportable, and the too enthusiastic scribes were taken in charge by the sergeant-at-arms. Like many others whose freedom that functionary sought to curtail, they could not be found when wanted. When the type, paper and presses of _Le Canadien_ office, under a warrant from Judge Sewell, were seized in 1810, the magistrate, attended by a file of soldiers, removed all to the vaults of the Courthouse. This act, with the long imprisonment without trial which followed, was considered one of the most arbitrary committed since Hanoverian rule began. The printers were arrested, as were also the leading members of the Assembly, Messrs. Pierre Bedard, Tachereau and Blanchet. When some of these members had been admitted to the bar, M. Perrault, one of those discreet men who were the saving of their country, patriotic but prudent, made the caustic remark: “So many men forced to steal in order to make a living! I shall certainly yet see some of you hanged.” It was quite easy to hang a man in days when the death penalty covered an incredible number of offences, when a boy could receive that sentence for killing a cow or a child for stealing sweets from a pastry cook’s window. So M. Perrault had a margin for his prediction. This half-jocular condemnation of the legal profession was prevalent to a degree which made many believe that in a corner of the Protestant hell, which was separate from and hotter than the Roman Catholic one, was a place reserved for lawyers. “There they will have a little hell of their own, and even well lighted for them to see each other the better; and there, after having deceived their poor clients on earth, they will tear each other to pieces without the devil having the bother of helping them.”