The trial was reported by the _Colonial Times_. The editor, Mr Henry Melville, pointed out in strong language the suspicion of unfairness; the dependence of the jury; the presence of the governor at Launceston during the trial; the infamous character of certain of the witnesses; and the overruling a challenge of a juror by the prisoner. The remarks of Melville were carried beyond the tolerated bounds of public criticism; the attorney-general, Stephen, induced the court to issue an attachment. The defendant was required to admit the authorship: this being done, the judge whose conduct he had censured pronounced the sentence.[192] To judge, condemn, and imprison, at once and by the party offended, included all that tyranny could ask. Any reference to the proceedings of a court, which the judge might choose to pronounce a libel, might consign to perpetual imprisonment. A similar case, at Newfoundland, was discussed in the House of Commons, and the ministers joined the opposition in severely reprehending the practice. The papers published the debate, and Arthur slowly obeyed the signal, and gave Melville his liberty. Motions for attachment have not often disgraced the administration of justice: they are relics of barbarous times. This process was issued against Fawkner, the editor of the _Launceston Advertiser_, who escaped by an apology; and it was moved for by the attorney-general, Stephen, against Murray and Melville, for calling an affidavit of the solicitor-general--to the effect that a fair trial could not be obtained in Bryan's case with a colonial jury--"an extraordinary document!" The judges dismissed the application, when Stephen remarked, that he "thanked God he despised the observations, as well as the scoundrel-like motives which influenced them." The intermixture of cattle of various owners, in the extensive forests belonging to the crown in the northern districts, afforded opportunities for plunder, and frequently occasioned disputes and quarrels. The herdsmen were often careless and dishonest, and their masters were liable to share the reproach of their mistakes or guilt. The marks distinguishing such property easily escaped the memory: it was often left to the choice of the magistrate to commit for felony, or resign the dispute to a civil tribunal. The constabulary were mostly prisoners of the crown. Their office entitled them to an earlier attainment of their liberty than other convicts: the detection of a serious crime gave them claims for a still quicker liberation; and the desire of freedom prompted them to lay snares for persons suspected, and even to commit a crime that they might charge it on the innocent. Thus, they would sometimes slaughter a branded beast, and throw its skin on the premises of the selected victim. Such atrocious wickedness was certainly not common, but that it sometimes occurred is beyond all doubt.