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' ' »U ■ ■ — t*k J: >TSMi .na . ♦ ♦ If '♦ A «« •8 , ™.' f " Ji i >i*i. -d t* t n me VOL. I. MIDDLETOWN, NEW CASTLE COUNTY, DELAWARE, SATURDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 22, 1868. NO. 8. £elfct fjoctrç. A HimaRBu ieahs moss mom. The anrgtag «a Of human life Forever onward rolls. Bearing to the eternal shore Bach day its freight of souls ; But though our bark sails bravely on, Pale Death sits at the prow. And few shall know we ever lived, A hundred years from now. Oh, mighty human brotherhood, Why fiercely war and strive, While God's great world has ample Space For everything alive 7 Broad fields, uncultured and unclaimed, Ate waiting for the plow Of progress, that shall make them bloom A hundred years from now. Why should we toil io earnestly In nth's short narrow span, On golden stair to climb so high Abore our brother man ? Why blindly at an earthly shrine Our souls in homage bow ? Our gods will rust, ourselves be dust, A hundred years from now. Whr prize so much the world's applause? Why dread so much its blame?. A fleeting echo is its voicç, Of censure or of fame ; The praise that thrills the heart, the scorn That dyes with shame the brow, Will be ns long-forgotten dreams, A hundred years from now. Earth's empires rise and fall, 0 Time ! Like breakers on thy shore, They rush upon thy rocks of doom, Are seen—and seen no more ; Tltc starry wilderness of worlds Thrt gem night's radiant brow, Will light the skies for other eyes, A hundred years from now. 0 Thou, before whose sleepless eyes The post and future stund An open page, like bubes we cling To thy protecting hand ; Change, sorrow, death, ore naught to ns, I#; we may safely bow Beneath the shadow of Thy throne, ,M A hundred years from now. Jntfreafinjj j&torg. THE SUDDEN CHOICE. A rfcw years ago I made one of tho seventy-nine passengers on board the fast steamer Emily Barton bound up tho Ten nessee. A pleasant, intelligent, go-ahead captain, a good steward, and social, refined company, made the trip one of pleasure, i udulsU; tong shall-I remember the aouey Emily Bartop. and her supurb living freight. One lovely Stimmer afternoon, it Was whispered that we wore to have a wedding before the boat reached hor des tination; said whisper started first low near the ladies cabin, and speedily made its way to the hull, the boiler deck, and even to the main; likdthe snowballsdowu the mountain, gathering size and momen tum, as it rolled forward, until the prin cipals in the interesting scene wore not only pointed dfit', but thb persons—some scraps in the history of each—fiction, foot and surmise, all hashed up ingeniously leaving you in the half pleasant, half pain ful suspense and doubt that opens the eyes so wide and strains the drum of the tight to all transpiriug around you. Well, we landed to wood at a magnificent beach bottom, the tall, heavy-leafed trees, with silver-gray trunks, making a deep cool shade, while they, that bore them, were, in the ear so river, reflected, so clear, so true, that inversion only pointed the false from real. Catting this charming spot in twain murmuring crystal brook, scarce four spans wide, to loose itseif in the of Tennessee waters, they in turn to he alike lost in the boundless sea. No sooner was the staging out than there emerged from the ladies' cabin afine, rnauly looking fellow, dressed in faultless taste, intellect beaming in every feature, while all over Mb face perfect happiness shone like phosphorus on the ses, snd leaning on his arm waa the most lovable woman it has ever been my lot to behold ; her fine hazel eyes (tell-tales that they were) speaking deep emotion, and her ex pressive lipquivering with deep suppressed excitement, while her step, dress snd grace was that of a queen. " There tliey are! "That's her!" —df.Qh how handsome !" bqrst from many » lip as we instinctively made way Shem pass to the altar, ana where tn had about came a to let at was as clear an idea as a trans •cendentalist generally has of what he is talking about. But one thing we all -seemed to know, that-there was fun ahead und to full in their walth was the wav to see it. ■ As tho ladies •offered to each, •of the cabin, down 1 the stairs, across the -staging, and up the sloping bank. Some Bfto yards up the brook the pair stopped, uutd, joining hands, they stood with clear mater between them—bridged as it was writh their twining fingers, and crossed by <• stream of love as pure as itseïfi All mss silent, still, until broken by tho min uter reading in an impreasive ''Aud of the rib whioh tho Lord God hath taken from man made he woman and brought hor nnto the man. And Adam said, this in now bone of my bone, aud flesh of my flesh ; ahe shall be «ailed wo man, because she vu taken of man.* Therefore shall a man leave his father and mother aud eloave unto Ms wife and thev Shaff he one flesh." 3 He dosed the book and offered g moat *>o' * heart but seemed (te fed «hat earnest appeal to the throne of «Hé«..' -we passed, a gallant arm was and thus we marched out m aimer. Then taking the nsnal questions, he pronounced them husband ana wife. The bride, «lowly sinking on her knees, raised her beautiful: face, all covered with tears, and her clasped hands, and in a most thrilliugly sweet voice, tremulous with deep emotion, said: " And now, O! merciful Father, grant: that our lives, thus unitod, may peacefully flow into one, even as this rivulet, until we reach the river of death ; and undivid ed in faith or conduct, be permitted to en joy thine eternal smiles, in the land of the pure and the blest." , . ., , Every pulse seemed still, hoping, wish ing for more of this beautiful drama. Mo word, no movement from all that throng ; all, was happiness ! O 1 lovely panorama, how deeply art thou graven on the heart. The happy man was in the act of imprint ing a kiss upon the smiling lips of his beautiful young bride, whon the clear tones of a manly voice, from a gentleman standing near by, startled all from their pleasing reverie., Universal gaze rested on a tall Tennesseean, whose eaglo eyes spoke the man a fit representative of the State where sleeps the great, illustrious Jackson. , "I can't stand this any longer !" said he. •• Pardon mo, ladies, pardon me. I have a proposition to make in the good faith of a man who never lies or trifles. I must make it at once. Mo«', I will marry, on this spot, any lady in the crowd who has the nerve to face such music. Look at me, and if you can love mens she loves (pointing to the bride,) I'll promise to be such a husband as she deserves, and such a husband as a true-hearted man will make to the woman who comes trembling but trustingly under his wing. 1 further {.«ay that no blot of shamq attaches to my name or ever shall. And this arm will protect und support the one who can.trust it. Who will take me?" And his eyes ran slowly and steadly over the crowd of haudsome women arouud him ; his earnest manner and novel speech had aroused an intense feeling, and all surprise and deep sympathy with the fear less excited orator, when to the astonish ment and delight of every one, a fawn-like, blue-eyed girl from the flowery banks of Alabama, stepped up to bis side, aud look ing confidingly up to him, with her hands on his arm, said : "X am thine"'. , • By this time his arm was arouud her waitt, and parking heri.curls, he "signed the contract" with a kiss that the mar ried ladies afterwards pronounced of the genuine sort—perfect and satisfactory, liaising his flashing eyes with a triunphsut expression from the pleasant job just men tioned, ho said : I, < , : > i . I' " ältere is tho parson ? : Send him right hcre-rrfllt this spot wo met, and ou this spot we will be marie one;,, X never let such leek ns this past me, by waiting a minute, so go ahead, all's ready-" And the parson did go ahead, and o.i the spot where they first met they were solemn ly united fopever. When the words ' 1 what God hath joined together,, let no man put asunder," died away, a shout weut up that woke the echo for miles; every hand was extended to the happy, luoky, venturesome fellow, aud every lady in the crowd prossed the lips of the haudsome wife (for a mo ment I wished I were she, but I instantly recovered my *ulf possession and thrust the weakuess from me ; womeu kissiug each other always seemed u waste of sweetness to me, but they kuow best,) aud laughing, shouting, happy, wo all returned on hoard. Our-generous captain set a splendid sup per ; the clerk made out two marriage cer tificates ; they were signed by the parties and seventy-four witnesses, (five more made the nine, you know) men, women and children, all told—everybody signed. Then we danced, we laughed, we made children of ourselves—yes, I am afraid We made fools of ourselves. Be that as it may, when the watch changed at noon of night, the bluffs on the durk shores of the river returned only unbroken the oeho of the coughing of the Emily Barton's engines, and our dreams vainly tried to vie with the lovely reality of the evening. V ill" A Twlcut for ConrirMtton. j . A talent for conversation has an extra ordinary value for the every day uses of life. Let any one who has the gift enter into the social circle anywhere. ' lldw efy one's free brightens at his entrance. How soon be sets all the little wheels in motion, encouraging the timid, Calling out the resources of the reserved and shy, sub sidizing the facile, and making everybody glad and happy. To converse Well is not to ehijrott the eOnvèrtàtioh. It is not to do ale thé talking. It is not necessary to talk with brilliancy. A man may with such surpassing power and soli ev talk endor nto si lence. He should seek the art of making others feel quite at home with him, so that no matter how great his attainments how small may be theirs, they find it just as pleasant talking to him as hearing him talk. Conversation, «tore than almost anything else, requires tacthnd discretion. It requires one to have most Varied know ledge, and to have it at instant disposal, so that he can nse just «s much or as little as the occasion demands. It requires the ability to pasa easily from the playful to the serious, from books to men, from thé mete phrases' of courtesy to the expres sions of sentiment and passion. A mischievous boy entered a stationery store the other day and asked the proprie tor 'what^ kind of pens he sold r 'All kinds,' was the reply. 'Well, then, Fll , taVe three cent« worth of pig-pens.* The! boy not wait to get them. J The greatest bet ever made has been de cided to be the alphabet. Ofotrarts from goohs. The English House of Commons. From "Old England, its Sosnorr, Art sad People." By l'rofcour Jsmtu M. Ilnppin, of Y sie College by Hurd k Housliton, New York, 186S. published Ascending the noble staircase leading up from old Westminter Hall, one passes iuto an avenue or corridor, connecting with the new Houses of Parliament. This su perb avenue is called St. Stephen's Hall. Along its sides are statues of Hampden Chatham, Burke, Pitt, Fox, and others of the great Commoners of England. This Hall leads into a vestibule highly deoorated and gilded, by which one enters immedi ately into the House of Commons on the one side, and the House of Lords on the other. Let us enter the House of Com mons. We go up a flight of stairs, and seat ourselveB in what is named the Dépor tera Gallery. Opposite us arc the report ers' desks, at which you sec anxious-looking men seated, who, after writiug a little time with intense application, get up and go out, being relieved of their toil by others. The House of Commons is almost as georgeous as wrought gold, fine brass, oak-wood ving, rich frescoes, and staiued-glass win dows can make it. I say almost, for tho House of Lords, though of the same gen eral architectural character, is still more elaborate iu its finish and ornament. It blazes with crimson and gold. After having looked around and above, and sated your eyes with richness, and studied out the Tudor rose and portculis ornaments, and other historic emblems, then look down aud see what this magnifi cent house of the gods contains. Are they gods or men? '/They are truly but men : and they are men who all on ns at a Quaker meeting. Quaker meeting ; for the spirit of heavenly repose which broods over the assemblies of the saints, is not surely here.* There is an anxious, angry, almost fierce spirit of de bate and ponflict. The only unexcited countenance is that of the Speaker, who, profoundly buried in his big gray wig, sits imperturbable as a machjnc, or rises at long intervals to ppt a vote iu the shortest and driest manner. ranged full length , Falkland, Helden, enr wear their hatB But it is no It is odd to see the quiet, matter-of-fact way in which vast, money-bills are voted upon aud disposed of in the English Par liament. I beard money enough to set up a small government appropriated in ahout five minutes, rill the members voting in fa vor of it, though there had been a protract ed and violent debate on it, in which it seeei'od as if the tottering government must give way.. The leal business goes on by machinery. Piitusslo« is like a dance on tho inill-Haor vf*riie the crest wheel goes steadily round. The cold, firm will of the governing class, sovereign in the House of Gommons as in tho House of Lords, allow ing little possibility of popular interfer ence, manages every thing in its own way. A long, green table stands in the center of the room, at one end of which two be wigged clerks arc seated, and at the other end hangs the ponderous mace. The Gov ernment party occupy seats on ene side of this table, and the Opposition on the other. There is an impression now prevailing in England, that the business of the nation lias become so gigantic and complicated that Parliament is really not equal to its transaction. 1 have certainly rarely seen a more wearied and fagged-out set of men than the government bench at that time presented. Tho brilliant gas- light streamed down on care-worn, and haggard faces. Thay wore then, it is true, it a state of siege, and brought by a powerful and unre lenting opposition into tho most desperate condition. Lord Palmerston, hewever, carried a bold air. In the broad and racy expression of his face he looked the born Irishman. He seemed to have the elas ticity of immortal youth. It was highly interesting to hear this inimitable voterait debater roll off his easy and stereotyped phrases of defense, now rising into stately rhetoric, now getting up an itnmenso indig nation, now casting himself back on his official dignity, and now darting a fatal thrust of mingled ridioule and power into tho weak place of his opponent's harness. His veuorable compeer, Lord John Bussell, has a pompous wa man, but is ingenious in gliding oilily around a difficulté; and when he cannot answer it, has an imperious way of.tramp ling H down. It was wonderful to see these old men sustaining these severe ntid-' flight debates : for the sessions of Parlia-. ment begin at five or six in the evening, and last sometimes until three o'clock in the morning; Confessedly the most polished and fluent speaker in Parliament is Mr. Gladstone; but, as a rough Englishman said to me, " He is too eloquent to be honest;" not that this is literally true, but with English people too much facility is looked upon with suspicion. I was fortunate to hear Mr. Bright Speak, although but briefly. Ho bas a round, füll forehead, and lute mouth, but the expression seemed to me gentler and more refined than I had imagined of this strong popular tribune. He looks like a good man—a man whose heart, whose moral nature, predominates overand subordinates his intellect. Yon revorse of this Idea, I think, face of Gladstone, who is pure intellect, though he has shown that he pos sesses a noble heart. Bright's speech was oharaoterixed by a straightforward plain ness, and also by singular force of eon* There was none of the drawling mannerism of the other speakers, bat a marching on in a free, fresh, direct current of remark. There seemed to me a consciousness that he injr for a Small a reso get just the from the fa , ura , OJ »„gutar t (leased «ohodariy expression. tv Ana rtf ika «tnawlS»«. 1 speakers, bat a marching fresh, direct current of was the leader of a growing power in the State, and waB bound to say something " telling" and strong. He stands on his own legs, and not on tion, opinions, or po moment the grandest figure, the foremost man in England. He seemed toxic, mor y, to tower immeasurably above all the bles and distinguished men about him. lie is indeed a dangerous man. He goes rather too fast for John Bull. Still, as one of my English friends said to m®, " Eng land will and must have substantial re forms, it matters not what minister is in power." The most striking-looking in the House of Çontmons is Disraeli. I did not hear him speak. Ilia head, from the distance where I sat, appeared not un like Webster's, though of far less massive mould ; perhaps it was his saturnine com plexion and iuipurturbable countenance that gave me this impression. His dark fea tures and black hair, his contemplative and even sombve expression, siugle him out among all. He is a stranger though his spirit may not he wholesome, and his eloquence is often more brilliant than sound, he has dated to rise above the dead level practical Standard of English debate into a new world of ideas aud prin ciples, and to discuss subjects in a moro comprehensive and philosophical way. The best speech I heard on the whole, for its vigorous English and manly thought, from Sir T. Baring. Judge Haliburton (Sam Slick) delivered a long, gossiping discourse with no particular poiut. With no lack of point was Mr. Buebuck's attack on the Chancellor of tho Exchequer. He speaks deliberately and ip a low voice, but with distiuct whisper, or hissing tone, thut makes every word tell. His keen shafts, drawn firmly to the head, are sent twang ing home with no reservation of human feebleness or pity. Chaucer must have written prophetically of him : j , Although seated on the lowest tier of benches opposite the reporters' 1 desks, it was some time before I could begin to un deratand a word that wax said. The thick articulation, und the broken, jerking way of speaking, made the EugUsli language sound like another'tongue. Even laird Palmerston at times got floundering and gaspiug in a painfully prolonged course of barren " eh-eh-eh's." In the House of Lords, the dull, and drawling style of oratory was still more pronounced. lairds Normandy, Glatiri cardc,- Waters, Do Canning, Brougham, aud others spoke. Some of the noble lords actually Went to sleep with folded artns be neath their broad-brimmed hats. Breiig ham has still the lionlike look Und' the en ergetic sweep of tho arm ; but the silver liair, benIQbuck, and, above all, failing voice, toll of the decay of physical force. In the remarks that he made there was no lack of mental vigor, and of dewnrighl crushing common sense. He made the impression of greater genuine oratorical power than any other speaker whom I have heard in England, though it was power on the wane, and the old tiro but faint. Sir Stratford de Canning, who has done a great work as a diplomatist, wielding the influ ence of England on the side of humanity and Christian civilisation, is no speaker, judging by the effort which I heard. His place is not in the stirring field of debate, He delivered a very elaborate speech that read remarkably well in the •• Timet" but lie nearly broke down twice in doing it. ; prescriptive reputa lictes. He is at this all ' ma here. Al M 4 'The arwes of thy dfabbèd eloquence 11 Shall pierce hid crest and eke his uTuateyle." Origin or UKut Sir n. Some of the greatest men thé world er produced, either in anoient or modern times were of very humble and obscure origin. Oolumbus, the discoverer of Ame nés, was the Bon of a weaver, and ver himself. Homer, the great: Greek po et, was a beggar. Demosthenes, the Gre cian orator, was the son of a cntlor. Oli ver Cromwell was the son of a brewer. Benjamin Franklin was the son of a tallow chandler; Ferguson, the Scotch astronom er, was a shepherd. Edmund Halley, an eminent English astronomer, the eon of a soap boiler of Shoreditch. Hogarth, the celebrated English painter, was but an ap prentice to an engraver of pewter pots. Virgil, the Latin poet, was the son of a potter ; and Horace of a shopkeeper. Shakespeare, the greatst of English drama tic poets, was the son of a woolstablc ; and Milton, the greatest of English epic poets, was tho son of a money scrivener. Pope was the son of a merchant; and Dr. Samuel Johnson, of a bookseller at Litch field ; Akenside, the author of that elegant poem, the " Pleasures of Imagination, the son of a butcher at Newcastle. Robert Burns was a ploughman at Ayrshire, Scot land ; Gray, the English poet, the son of a money sertvner ; and Henry Kirk White, of a butcher at Nottingham, England.— Bloomfield and Gifford were shoemakers ; and Addison, Goldsmith, Otway and Can ning, were sons of olergymen. The pres ent Lord Lyndhurst, the Chief Justice of England, was the son of the painter Com ley, and an American by birth. Thçse examples show that there is po state or condition of life, however humble or oh ■cure, from which talent and genius may not nse by individual exertion to emi nenoe and distinction. Particularly is this the case in our own éountry, where there Î! 1 ° "® blUt y> Bnd no Privileges conferred by birth a wea 1 Passionate reproofs are like medicine given scalding hot; the pafiant cairoot take thorn. If we wish to do good to those we rebuke, we should labor for meekness of wisdom, aud use soft words for hard arguments. UUmUn| S>—Iwlim A gentleman of .tyonsiderable fortune in England had two sons, one of whom caused him piuch anxiety from his dissipated char acter and conduct. The elder brother ot length asked permission of his father at visit some foreign clime, which was read ily granted. It was not long after he left home be fore the ship he sailed in was oaptured by an Algerine corsair, and he was takeu prisoner and convoyed to Algiers, where lie remained a number of years vythoutau opportunity of sending to or hearing from home. At length he effected his escape, and returned to his native land very desti tute ; when he arrived at the place where he was born, he was shocked to hear that his father had been dead several years, and his yonger brother was in full possession of his estates. On this information he proceeded immediately to his brother's house, where on his arrival he stated who he was, aud recounted his misfortunes. He was at first received with evident tokens of surprise ; but what was his tonishinent, after his brother had reoovered himself, to find that ho (the younger bro ther ) was determined to treat him as an imposter, and ordered him to quit hiB house, for he had a number of witnesses to prove the death of hii elder brother abroad'. Being thus received, he returned to the village, Dut met with, no better success, as those who would be likely to give him sistaned were either dead or had gone away. In this predicament he succeeded in'findiog an attorney, to whom he related the circumstances exactly as tliey stood, and requested his advice. The attorney, seeing the desperate state in which the affair stood, observed that as his brother Was in possession, he would be likely to have recourse to very unjust means, by suborning witnesses, ect. ; but that he would undertake to advocate the cause on condition that if he proved suc ocssful he should receive a thousand pounds ($5,000); " if the contrary," said the at torney, " as you have nothing to give, I shall demrnd nothing," To this proposal the elder brother agreed. It should be remarked, thnt at this time bribery and corruption were at Such is pitch that it was no uncommon thing for judge, jury, and the whole court to be perverted ; and the lawyer naturally concluded, this being the ease, that the elder brother stood hut a very indifferent chance, although he him «elf had ho doubt of the validity of his claim. In this dilemma, he resolved to take a journey to London, and lay the before Sir Matthew Haïe, then Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench—a character no less conspicuous for his abilities than f° r hi* unshaken integrity and strict im. partiality. 1 ' Sir Matthew heard the relation of the circumstances with patience, as likewise tho attorney's suspicions of the means that Would be adbptcd to deprive the elder brother of his right. Ho (Sir Matthew) desired him to go on with the regular pro ce 3? of the law, and leave the rest to him. Thus the matters stood till the day of trial came on—a few days previous to which Sir Matthew left home and travelled Whtil he eame within a short distance of the town where the matter was to be de «ided ; when pass'mg a miller's house, he directed the coachman to stop, while he alighted from his carriag the house. After salutii told him that he had a request to make which he hoped would be complied with, which was to exchange clothes with him and allow him to leave his earriage there until he should return (in a day or two). The miller at first supposed that Sir Matthew was joking, but on being convin ced to the contrary, he would fain have brought bis best sait; but no, the chief justice, equipped with the miller's clothes, hat, and wig, proceeded on foot the fol lowing morning. Understanding the' trial between the brothers was to take place that day, he went early to the oourt ball, without hav ing communication with any one on the subject. By mixing in the orowd, he had soon an opportunity of having the elder brother pointed out to him. He soon accosted him with, "Well, my friend, how is your oase likely to go on?" " I do not know," replied he, " but I am afraid but badly, for I have reason to be lieve that both judge and jury are deeply bribed ; and fur myself, have nothing but the justice of the oause to depend on, un supported by the property which my bro ther can command, I nave but faint hope of succeeding." He then recounted to the supposed mil ■ the whole of his tale, and finished by informing him of the agreement which had taken place between himself and the law ilthough Sir Matthew was in posses sion of the principal part of the circum stances, yet the ingenuous relation he now heard left no doubt in his mind of his be ing the lawful heir to the estate in" ques tion. as as I asi e and went into ng the miller, he Sir Matthew being determined to act accordingly, he, with this view, begged the eldest brother not to be discouraged : "for/' says he, "perhaps it may be ip tpv power to be of service to you. I don't know that I can, being, a* you see. bat a poor miller ; bu» I will do what I can, if you will follow iny advice; it cant do you no harm, and may be of some use to you." The elder brother readily oaught at any thing that might afford (the least prospect of success, and eagerly promised to adopt any reasonable plan that he might propose. " Well, then," said the pretended mil ler, " when the name* of the jnry called over, do you objeet to one of A matter which ; the judge will perhaps 1er yer; a are em, no ask you for your objections ; let your reply be, "I objeot to him by the rights of au Englishman," without giving reasons why; you will then perhaps be asked wboin you would wish to have in the room of the one you have objected to ; should that be the case, I'll take care to be in the way ; you can look round carelessly and mention me. If I am impannelled, though I cannot E remise, yet I entertain great hopes of ring useful to you." The elder brother agreed to follow his directions, and shortly after the trial came on. When the names of the jury were being called over, the elder brother, os he a instructed, objected to one of them. "And pray," says the judge, in an authoritative tone, " why do you object to that gentleman os a juryman ?" "1 ob ject to him, my lord, by the rights of an Englishman, without giving my why." " And whom," says the judge, * 1 do you wish to have in the room of that gentleman?". "I wish to have an honest man, my lord, no matter who;'' and look ing round, "suppose von miller should be called." "Very well," said his lord ship; "let the miller be sworn." He was accordingly called down from the gallery, in view of t led with the rest of the jury. been long in the box, when bo observed a little man very busy with the jury ; and presently he came to him and slipped five guineas into his hand, intimating that it was a present from the yonnger brother ; and after his departure the miller dioov ered, on inquiry of his ucigbors, that each them had reueived double that sun). He now turned his whole attention to the trial, which appeared to leah decidedly in favor of the younger brother, the wit nesses having sworn ^point-blank to the death and burial of tne elder brother. His lordship proceeded to sum up the evi dence, without taking notice of several contradictions which had taken place be tween the younger brother and his wit nesses. After having perfidiously expatiated in favor of the younger brother, he conclu ded ; and the jury, after beiug questioned in the usual manner whether they' were all agreed, the foreman was about to reply, when the miller stepped forward, calling out, "No, my lord, we are not aU agreed 1", " And pray," says his lordship, " what objections have you, old dusty wig?" " I have many objections, my lord ; in the first place, all these gcntlmcn of the jury have received ten broad pieces of gold from the younger brother, and I hate re ceived hut five !" He then proceeded to point out the contradictory evidencè w'hieh had been adduced, in such a strain of elo quence that the court was lost in as tonishment. The judge, unable longer to contain himself, called out with vehe mence, " Who are you? where do you come from? what is your name?" To which interrogatories the miller plied, " I come from Westminister Hall ; my name is Matthew Hale ; I am Lord Chief Justice of the Court of King's BenchJ; and feeling as 1 do a conviction of your nnworthiness to hold so high a judi cial station, from having observed your iniquitous and partial proceedings this day, I command you to come down, from that tribunal you Jjave so much disgraced, and I will try this cause myself." Sir Matthew then ascended the bench in the miller's wig, etc. had a new jury im pannelled, reexamined all the witnesses, proved them to have been suborned ; and the circumstances being completely changed the verdict was unhesitatingly given in favor of the elder brother. had reasons where he had been standing the elder brother, and impunei He hud not of re Old Tim« Winters* In 1664 the cold was so intense that the Thames was oovered with * ice sixty-one inches thick. Almost all the birds per ished. In 1691 the cold was so excessive that the famished wolves entered Vienna and attacked beasts and even men. Many peo ple in Germany were frozen to death in 1695, and the winters of 1697 and 1699 were nearly as bad. In 17Q9 occurred thnt famous winter called, by distinction, the cold winter.— AU the riven snd lakes were frozen, and even the sea for several miles from the shore. The ground was frozen nine feet deep. Birds and beasts ware struck dead in the fields, and men perished by thou sands in their houses. In the South of Franoe, the wine plantations were almost all destroyed ; nor have tl from their fatal disaster, sea was frozen and even the Mediterran ean about Genoa, and the citron and orange groves suffered extremely in the finest parts of Italy. In 1716 the winter was so intense that people traveUed across the straits from Copenhagen to the provinces of Senia, in. Sweedcn. In 1729, in Scotland, multitudes of cat tle and sheep were buried in the snow. tne winter was scarcely inferior to that of 1609. The anow lay ten feet deep in Spain and PprtUgal. The Zuydcr Zee was frosen over, and thousands of people went over it. And the lakes in England frote. In 1764 the winter was very cold. Snow fell in Portugal to the depth of 28 feet on a level. ' In 1754 and 1755 the winters were very severe and cold. In England the stron gest ale, exposed to the Sirin covered in 16 minutes With lee one eighth of an inch thick. . ■ ret recovered he Adriatic In 1740 a glass, was Two lovers, like two armies, generali; get along quietly until they are engaged. ^(jnxultural J)r#artinrnt Fur He MMlitoum Trantcript. Winter 1Jutter Making. Messrs. Editors:—With your permis sion, I propose to furnish, from time to time, an article or two for your Agricul tural Department. They of my observation and experience, aud may 'indued some other of your farmer rentier* to o n tribut» an occasional article to the same department. If the farmers, generally, would make public the results of their experience, they would increaso their stock of knowledge, and eonfer great bcoefit upon each other. For the present I shall confine myself to two subjects, vix : —Winter Butter making, and the Fatten ing of Hogs. Winter butter making is something that most farmers give hut little attention to, and that which is made, is generally poor, white in color, and not very palatable. In winter butter briugs the highest price, hut there is not generally much of it in the market. ' It can be produced, just as good, and as pientifnl, in winter as in sum mer, by pursuing the following directions: —In the first place, the egttle must he sheltered from the weather. They must have comfortable Bheds, and bedding of straw or stocks. They should hare a good supply of sngar-beets, carrots, or mangel wurtsel, along with their, oat straw atul corn-caps, aud two or three times a week they should be fed with ship-stuff, or upon coarsely ground corn meal. If the cows have timothy and clover hay mixed, so much the better. The butter can thus be made as sweet as it is in June, and of a fine yellow color, without the cheating process of coloring it with arahetta, car rot water, dr any thing else. The increase of butter will pay the increased cost, while the profits will be, an increase of manure, fatter cows, finer and larger spring calves. Wheat straw is not good as winter feed for ctrivs. It gives'to blit ter a very poor color, and a bitter taste. Nothing is so good for feed as clover and timothy, with the above mentioned suc culent roots, and occasionally a supply of meal of ship-stuff. Lèt our thrifty far mers try it. Plant this spring, an acre or two in roots, and no other orop will pay you better. Theoommon turnip is not fit for butter making, for whenever they arc used as food for milch cows, the butter is sure to be spoilt in flavor. are the results i A Cheap Process of Fattening Hogs. —Cultivate Sorgum, and feed stock and all to the hog" ; they are very fond of it, and will eat it up clean, and thrive rap idly upon it. It is the saccharide matter contained in the stock, which improves hogs so rapidly. Much less corn is re quired jrlien they are fed in this way, and they will fatteD much quicker. iVeic Cattle County, Feb. 1868. ARATO». Th« Dairy and tlic Orchard. The increased attention paid by agri~ culturiste to- dairy products and to the growth of fruits and vegetables for the city markets is noticed in a report of the United States Commissioners of Agricul ture. He states that the butter of Now York in I860, one of the Beveral products of the dairy, was estimated at $00,009, 000; that the supply of milk was also enormous, aud the manufacture of cheese in that State had bcoorno a verv important pursuit, there being not only immense contributions to the home market, but the quantity exported in 1805 was 58,089, 468 pounds, valued at $11,681,927.' It is even said that the American cheese is supplanting the British produot in the English market. It is strange that moro attention has not been paid by the Amer ican agriculturists to the culture of fruits and vegetables. .The importance of the great city markets has been, it is true, more and more appreciated id the Eastern and Middle States, but it may be doubted whether the commercial value of the minor products of the seil is as fully understood aud acted ou as it ought to be. There can he no safer investment for eapital aud industry than the cultivation of vegetables and fruits for the supply of the leading towns and cities of the Atlantic coast, which aro growing with such steady and rapid progress that an increasing and euor-, mous demand may be relied on as among the most certain events of the future. Effect of Rusty Straw o» Animal«. The eondition of straw known as •■ rust," "red-rag," "red-gutn," cet., is oaused by a fungus called Credo Jiubiyo, whielt form yellqyish-brown oval spots and blotches on the leaf, stem, and chuff. The'class of diseases produced by feed in« on rusty straw, are of those usually seen among animals that are poorly fed and nourished, viz ; marasmus, glanders, farcy, skin diseases, catarrhal afflictions, and watery swellings of the body aud legs. During eight months, and out of seven hundred horses fed on rusty straw, there were constantly from forty-five to fifty on the siok list; and in the month of Novem ber, there were as many as sixty-two cases resulting from the same oause. Such, then, is but a synopsis of a record that ought to open the eyes of farmers and others to & proper use of rusty straw. Lips 0 )i pATTER.—Bub with common lamp oil, then sprinkle fine sand over the cattle ; this will tend to protect the calves and grown stock from the attacks not only of lioe, hut also of flies and other annoy ances. Fatty matters of any kind repulsive te the louse tribe. arasa