To the legal mind, the fact that _experts_ had to be called in to pass upon the question of identity is sufficient to arouse suspicion and provoke investigation. As stated in a former number, I was certain they would find Paul Jones—in their minds—for that was what they were looking for. Whenever, for instance, the medical expert starts out to find arsenic in the human stomach, arsenic generally shows up all right enough. In like manner French experts were called in to identify a certain corpse as that of Paul Jones, and, after the most elaborate and beautifully regular formalities, they solemnly pronounced the verdict which they knew was expected and which they were predisposed to find. “This is Paul Jones, isn’t it?” asks General Porter, most suavely, not to say persuasively. How could the politest experts of the politest people on earth say nay? The case was pitiful. The search for Paul Jones’s body had reached a crisis. Only four leaden coffins had been found in the old graveyard, and one of these _had_ to be Paul Jones, because he had been buried in such a coffin, and the other three bore name-plates which showed they could not be his. The fourth bore no name-plate; therefore it _must_ be Jones’s coffin. The necessity of the situation required it. Consequently, polite French experts measure, compare, incubate, decide and bring in the verdict desired. Looking at the matter as a lawyer, I should say that there is not sufficient legal evidence offered, as yet, to establish the identity of the dead body. The cemetery in which Commodore Paul Jones was buried was closed by law in 1793. _A canal was afterward cut through it._ The great sea-fighter was buried, as Napoleon was, in uniform. In the Life of him—“Great Commanders’ Series”—by Cyrus Townsend Brady, the statement is made that _Paul Jones was buried in the American uniform_, and that _a sword and other articles were placed in the coffin_. The body which General Porter has found was _not_ clad in uniform. There was no sword, or other article, found in the coffin. Commodore Jones died of dropsy, which had swollen his body to such an extent that he could not button his waistcoat. Yet the French experts declare that all the measurements tally exactly with those of the living Jones. * * * * * _Should They Do So?_ Awful changes take place after death, and they are greater with some than with others. Should the measurements of a corpse which had been entombed more than a hundred years correspond _exactly_ with those of the same body when alive? Most biographers put the _height_ of Admiral Jones at “about five feet and eight inches.” Won’t you find a greater number of men—in France especially—whose height is “about five feet eight inches” than you’ll find at any other figure? And will you not find more _corpses_ of about that length?