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Middletown transcript. [volume] (Middletown, Del.) 1868-current, February 22, 1868, Image 1

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn84026820/1868-02-22/ed-1/seq-1/

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£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.
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
passed, a gallant arm was
and thus we marched out
m aimer.
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
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.
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,
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
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»«.
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
here. Al
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
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
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
yer; a
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
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
" 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.
where he had been standing
the elder brother, and impunei
He hud not
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
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.
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.
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.

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