Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, May 24, 1874, Page 10

[{1] THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, MAY 24, 1874 o —_— e PRIDE AND HUMILITY. The Man Whe Rides ami the Man Who Walks. Influence of a Horse on the Char- acter. A Few Insiences of Modest Horse- Drivers. The Buggy in Love-Making. The contrast presented every day on 0uT streets by the humility of pedestrians and the pompoua pride of those who ridein buggies or other ‘heeled vebicles, is 8 metaphysical matter oriby even of tho sttention of anewspaper editor who hes dived deep into the mysteries of epirituslietic Jore. Why tho pedestrian Bbo!l]d be the cmbodiment of a Heep-like euppreesion of self, aud tho buggy-rider the concentration of haughtiness is = problem which Las hardly yet received the sttention it deserves. Its very sntiquity ought to mako it interesting. The first mention of fast driving in Holy Writ is of peculiar interest, as it raises a very pertinent question whether there did not exiet, in the days of Abab and Jezebel, those necessary evils of modern times, police forces and ordinances for the prohibition of fast driving. Tho passago in question is that in which a watchman—cloarly & corporation official. with a truncheon in hand and etar glittoring on bis cbnormally-developed disphiagm—reports tho driviog of s horseman &5 equal in fury to tho driving of Jehn, who was fEe most conning whip of all ancient chrioteers. Laier on, Quintas Horatius, the Swinburne of lis nge, tang tho glories of Lolding the reins over a spanking team in the melodious veraes : Sunt quos curriculo pulverem Olympicam Collogessa Juvat, meta qus fervidis Evitata rotis, patns que nobilis Terzarum dominos, evelit ad deos. Weich lines were beautifully translated af » Inter date by Dr. Ssmuel Johoson, the grest lexicog- repher and reliable old sport, as follows: And there aro thoas whose chiefest glory seoms To be the speeding of 2:40 texma, The rush of fervid sulkies by the sward That lines the avenua or boulevard ; Or, nobler etill, 1o view them too the mark 1Ina 2:20 puree st Dexter Park, Still Jater, our own Oliver Wendell Holmes Eings the loathsome pride of the puffed-up indi- vidoal who has hired a buggy st & livery stable for & dollar and & balf, aud excites the ecorn of & pedestrain, who decides, probably because he 1s impecunious, and liverice are {o bim unaitain- able luxuries, that ke will jog slong with the “iandem that Nature gave him.” It mastbe a source of consoletion to thoss whose chronio Jack of money has doomed to chronic pedestrian- ism to muse upon the fact that at any rate they are as well fixed for locomotion ss Adam was. Take it aliogether, it is doubtful whether Adam, in the sunniest days he passed in Eden, was 28 serenely happy as mortal can sowadays bamade. ‘He must occasionally have suffered from sunbarn to an extent that is perbaps never known in med- ern times, and if mosquitcs existed in those days, when it is reasonatle to presume the mos- quito-bers man was as vet unborn, his sufferings end those of Lis gentle partner must have been excruciating, aud the fever after a night spent in fitfn glumber and goat-slaughter must bave been of a kind that made tho temptation of a draught of cooling cider particularly dangerous. And in the matter of riding men sre much bet- ter off mow-a-days. Adem nover knew the gentle accommodation of a Mexican saddle, and withont & donbt whenever he aud his wife spent a duy on horseback, playing Lsdy Godiva among thie hills 2nd dales of their delightful demesne, their reflections for weeks after upon thoir day's enjoyment must, es will be readily belioved by anyone who has overdone on an occasion either borseback or rowing cxercise, bave been un- pleasant in the extrame. But this is digressing from the rubject, and we are as far off as ever from finding out the source of & dnver's prido _snd of & pedostrian’s bumility. One peculiority ot the former 1s especially worthy of uotice. The fact that the borse is & borrowed oue never diminizhes tho ‘pride of the driver. The trustee of a livery Pplug, if anything, puts on more style than the Owner of & pair of bays. The briaf afternoon during which the spavined animal obeys his tug- givg snd sawing, and submits. as only & livery- hores can, to hi management, is to its tewporary owner a timo of peculiar and unadul- terated glory, and when late in the evening ke returns the steaming animal to the stable, it is with a noble couscionsnesa that he has '*had his money’s worth ont of him.” The man who de- pends entirely on the livery for tho turnout with which he does his everyday work is, strange to Esy, fesrfully timorous that pome one will’ find out that he is mot the bona-fide owner of the Rosinante. He nlways talks of the beast 83 * my mare Jenay,” or some other equally cnderring name ; he is moro conversaut with her pedigroe then his own, and gives her a three-minute record as confidently s though he himsclf wers o budding Bud Doble and the mare the makings of another Goldsmith Maid or Dexter It will be remember-~ ed that about a year ago & bomb-thell was cast * into the ranks "of these horse-loaners, in the shape of & proposed city ordinance ordering the - pumbering of all livery carriages. Luckily it did not pass, but it is a fact that in that exciting time, when there wasa prospect of the law's nseing, no less then fifts-three of Chicago's goclum. who were known for their tuin-outs and the knobby atyle of their concbmen’s livery, gave way noder the dread of cxposure,and were driven, by meditsting upou the prospect of visiting patienw in vebicles vulgarly numbered liko mitk- carts, into brain fevers from which only s srall percentago recovered. Whother or not this mor- tality among the medical men was a means of diminishing the sizo of the Sanitary Superin- tondent’s monthly report is & subject worthy of » paper by s member of the Philosophical So- ciety, and a lengthy discussfon at a futare meeting. B It is pleasing after considering the unnecessa: - pride of the man who drives a livery hack, an the wore natural hauteur of the man who is guiding his own property along the boulovard, to recognize, in same of the men who drive, the force of the paradoxical saying that thero is never o rule without =n exception. Thers arc men in Chicago who drive horges, and yet vaunt not themselves tothe skies. A pleasing example of the non-inflated Jehu is the mild individual who drives the Black Muria to and from the Bridewell. He directa tho motions of four handsome horues; the velicle he sits eathroned wpon, does not EE‘“QY with the glare of = painted coat of arms, £ the wire-work In the door and windows is of 2 pleacing form, and slouid arouse his prnde ; the load of bumaxity inside he is gusrding as & fanctionary of tho Govornment. Al this, and yet heispot proud. Ancther Johu who never feels like bursting with pride is the driver of tho county ambulance. And if there is s driver who ought to fecl bumble and deeply dejected, it ia he who gits on top of the filthy 'buses that run on the Madison etreet line, and directs the fal. tering steps of tke superannuated. attennated, spaviced, wall-oyed, wind-galled plogs which drag their comfortloss load of humanity from State fo Western avenme. It is but foir to state thst some of tueeo men aro achamed of their occupation, and occasionally commit suicide or join the Commissionaires, but unfortunately thege are the exception, and it is & fact that the Madison strcet *bus driver must, 88 class, be written down smong thoss of the drivers who havefallen heir to Lucifer's besetting &in. There aro yet other drivers who sbuse them- gelves in the sight of tho world. The men who drive the street-swecpers are ot prond, though this may ariee from necessit¥ rather than chioice, 28 wheu ono of them with the natural feelings of a_horeeman lifts his bead on bigh, volumes of dust crond into_khis eyes, surge 'down his throat, and threaten him with momentary suffo- lr.]mou, and he is obliged to assume a position of y. The Lumility of the pedestrian, hower: - most without exception. Given.'s s cri g wezlth of an Astor, and a brain that wowid oute weigh Nosh Webster's or Jim Tisk's by aa ounce, also a &2ip of & dry-goods clerk or report- €r on an cvening paper, if the former bo wfoot and the latter in a buggy, tho man of brains will waivo all his Xight of war, and all other rights, in favor of the man of ‘tucreins. Thers is s mysterions something in even the tempon posression of horee and buggy which gives thy possessor an inexplicable advantage over the pedestrian. Given two snitors to the same girl, the one handsome, clever, & good dancer, in Tach & highly accomplished young feliow, the othe homely, stupid, and awkward. The first makes love in tho most appreved etyle, but never takes ber ot buggy-ridug: | the of is a dolt at lovemabing Bar treats Lor 10 mav a Eicyads' by the | lake SBO7C, &l niilic Zoualit evening in soring when & young man's, sud, for the mdtter of that i also, & young woman's ** fancy,” lightly tarn to thoughts of love. 1Is there sny one %ho cannot name the solution of the problem, caunot tell that, Boouer or later, the self-reliant, hendsomo youth will learn to regret that twenty or thirty dollars judiciously invesied st the livery-stables bas proved of more svail in winning the prize than all the gems his natural gifts cuabled him to bear in tua chuae. A Whyis it? Echo answers why, and refers readers to the Chicsgo Philosophical Socioty as the only body which 18 worthy of being intrusted with thie solution of a problem which so deeply affects the interests of the masses. LITTLE BIJOU HERON. « El1 Perkins? Visits the Littlo Pro= dizy and Eier Strange Mother. To the Editor of the New York Graphic : Yesterday I mot little Bijou Heron, tho child- actress. I'was so delighted with tha sprightly little thing that I told her I wanted to como over to Sceond avenus cod eeo her mamms, y * Como,” .ssid Bijou; * but maybe she will see you and maybo she won't. Bus I'll tell H:r about you, and 1 think sbe’ll want to see you. 1 find everybodyis talking about the little prodigy Mr. Daly bzs secured, and everybody wants to know about her mother. Mayor Hall and George Francis Train both took so much interest in Matiida Horon, thie once-powerful and- beautiful impersonator of Camille, that they each guvo mo u loiter tober. So yestorduy I took the lotters and made the call formy Graphic readers. But alas! the letters were of no use. The great actress could not read thom. I found Ma~ tilda Horon's residenco in an obscure tenement- houso oa Second avenus, mear Twenty-socond stroet. 'The house ig kept by & silvor-haired old Irish 1ady, who says ‘‘tho 8ickk actiess up-stairs does such queor things.” + What things?" I asked. i “Why, sure enough, man, che eings when other people crs, sits up o nights and wchlapes day-times, eats when I fast, and siuds for a prasto when she ought to send for & doother, sure.” .As I entered the front door I heard loud talk- ing in the roomat the head of thoatairs. A voice, inpasaioned but ehattered, was incoherently ng : Demons—sogelsl This is_ not fair. Thoy shall nos play Camille. Camille is for Bijou, and 1'll tear the eyes outof any one who dares to plnp it! PBut—ahl never mind; I will alesp 1t ofr.” 1n & moment little Bijou came to (he head of the stairs, and, artlessly taking my hand, half— way led snd pulled me into the room. Bus ohl what a sight met my gazel The room was lit- tered AR poverty-struck. There was an old faded Jewuharp cook-stove, with the griddles scattered sround the floor. On the stove, in Jace of griddles, was an old faded bouquot, Ariedand Gusty; sna there, sprawlod upon sh old lounge, was tho once beutifal actress.. Hor feos were nhoeless, dress Lalf-unbuttoned, aud ber beautiful dark bair, which we have 80 often seen 1elieved by the white camelis, was cut tight toherhead, In placo of long, 'silken trosses wers short, bristling kaws, each standin, straight up. The sweot, palo face, aud the nec) of gracefully-carved alabaster, wore gono, and in their place were the puffed and crimson foa- Sures seen only among poor and miserable peo- ple. The mind of the great actresa was partly gone, the fire of Ler oye bad flickered out, and Baw before me & poor woman helplessly crazy— foolishly insane. Ido not write this unfeelingly. This state- ment of fact does not detract one iola from tho honor or_glory of Matilda Heron, but it calls upon us all to give her our sympathy and love. A great actress belonga to the peopls, and they have a right to know everything about ker, snd then they can come forward with aid and sympa- tby. Matilds Horon's insanity should ba known as well a5 Horace Greeley's. - But I found the great actress more than in- eane. Her icsanity prompts ber to indulge in stimnlants; 2nd insanity, poverty, and strange appetites make her trebly the object of our pity aud sympathy. Something muss be dono for Nistilds Heron. As little Bijou led me into theroom, her ‘mother said, smitingly : ©T'll tell you how it was, sweetheart. I'm a Catholic. Henry Ward Beecner is the Redecmer of the world. Ono day, tweaty years ago,—I'm 44 years old now,—ono day Faany Kembie and I wereup in the mountains in Aassachusetts. Lot's sec,—we wers building a bridge. and I was » young, honorable Catholic girl, and Baecher, ho—lio—hoe—h—e,—well I don't really remember how it was," and the once beautiful imperson- ator of Camille placed her haunds on her brow, as it trying to follow the thread of & broken thoughs. In a moment ghe eaid : * Bijou, tell his excellency about *Camille,” Tell 1t nicely.” **Well,” commenced Rijon, with great deli- beration, ¢ Mr. Palmer, of the Union Square Theatre, didn't know that ‘Camille’ was mam- ma's play, and that she had a right_to keep apy- one from playing it, the same as Mr. Daly bag the right to *Alphonse.” 8o, after Miss Clara Morris bad played it at & benofit,—mamma didn’t care anything sbout that, you know, but I mean aftor they got all thescenory for the play, and Olara Morris Was going to play it Again,~mam- ms objected. Then Mr. Palmer and Mra. Shook called on mamma, and said they didn't know * Camille’ was her play, and wanted mammsa to !3 them play it, and mamma consented to do it “ Ty it in the paper, *By the kind permission of Matilds Heron’? ™ asked Bijou's mother. +Yes, mamma." It was well said, Bijou—thank you!” ‘“You heard me, Bijou?" ocontinued the sctress. ¥Yes, mamma,” said Bijou. ‘* Then thaok me.” ‘¢ Thank you, mamma,” eaid Bijon, courtesy- ‘“fi to her mother. found thst little Dijou bad to make this courtesy & good many times a day, and thelittle tl}lng was 80 young and inexperienced that sha du‘iint know but what it was the proper thing todo, - ** How did you come to play in the theatrs 3" I asked little Bijou, s she 8t00d up by my chair, By Bead s ane SO i P #Well, I wia going to ward-schaol, and ono day little Gertrude Norwood, who nsed to plav tho child's -parts, fell - sick, and Mr. Hawkins came round for me to take herpart. I went over to rohearsal, and I'veboen there ever since. 5 *‘ Don't you sometimes get frightened on the stage,—foel like crying 7" ‘" Yes, I felt frightened the first pight, and the other night I felt strange when I didu't get an oncore. It was the first night I badn’t. had it und I felt like crying. That night I forgot, aud started home from the theatre alone, and came all the way alone to Second avenue. I didn't want aoybody with me, I was too busy thinking ebout that encore.” Alag, this was the first disapooiniment in the sweet littlo angel's life. Dijou couldlive on crusts, sleep on a pallet of rags in the arms of her crazy mamma, #nd be haypy ; and here she wasbreaking her heart because she didn't get hlrrfignlaxi gacare. > - ** How old are you, Bijou ?" I asked, takin, the hand of the iztle actress. % 3 “I'm10yoars old ; and min't it real nice for 1me to make £25 a weok for mamma " and little Bijou looked aa proud as aqueen. Do yon liko acting in the theatre 2" "0, Xguess Ido! I'm always going to ect. Its g:vsly‘ ‘ll'au juy;t try it once " 'Can you do anything elso 28 woll as you d Adrienne in * Alphonse,’ Bijou 2" 3 2 “‘Yes, they'’ro all alike to me. I'll say Miss Eou:mrr‘: part in ‘Box and Cox,’ if you want me to.” “All right, Rijou; let's hear you.” So the littls thing got two chiaie, put o pillow on earh, fized tno koys in the doors, abd com- menced. 1 was delightcd—entranced. Why, no ono has ecen littlo Brjou act yet. She has mag- netizm, power, geature, and eloquence cuongh to take tho most dillicult role in comedy or tragedy. And all 80 natural—so aweetly inzocsnt. * Who taught Bijou this 7" T acked her mother, w)mh%nd been nle: lnnf_tloxln few momonts. . *Nooas, aweetheart. 1t is the God Almight; in the child.” ‘Then, tumming to the little Sorr. der, she said, * Come here, Bijon, to your moth- er's arms.” In a momont' Lttie Bijou was kis- ing the dimmed face of her poor, unfortunate mother, As if shoLad beon an angol. Indced, she is not vet old enough to know that anything is the mat{er with her mothor. Sho has nover seen her otherwise, and she thinks it iz her normal state. It was a queer sight to see this strange affection of the dainty little child-act- ress for her moiber,—to sca ler put Ler arms around ber neck aad pat her choeis, and to oo her somotimes pus her littlo hand over ber mam- ma’s mouth when she was saying sowe indiscreet thiug which ought 1ot to be said. Last night I went to the Fifth Avenas Thea- tre tn bes Bijou in her Iast appesrance in AL phonse.” She showed the ramo nataral sweet- nesa that she does off the stage; but her power and genius are msubjection. _Her gonius will ba Toro startling in & strooger part, xud they are now rehears:ng *“Oliver Twist” 80 a3 to show the little prodigy in all her strongth. Faony Daveoport will make a splendid Naacy Sykes, ad tho whole combination will mako & theatrical novelty which the Metropolis hasn't Eecu for years. . . . Whatuntrodden path, what unex- ?p‘fi{fi‘gfi;flgflm tho great dramatic life, the 3 o Bijoa are to tre: 0o one knows, ‘L1me alone will eolve tue m‘m'rr. e Eur Pengrss,” i e MUSIC IN NEW YORK. Commencement of Theodore Thomas' Summer-Concert. Season.. . - Thomas’ Life-Work and Ambition—Popular Advance in Musical Ap- : preciation. Prominent Musical Works Produced in. New York During the Past Winter. A Sticky Digression. Correspondence of The Chicago Tribune. F New Yonx, May 18, 1874, The Theodore Thomas summer-concerts have begun. Only the residont New Yorker can sp- ‘prociate the delight that announcement carrios with it into the hearts and homes of tha Man- hattancse. Withoat Theodore Thomas, the hot, dreary summer, that drives a large part of womankind out of town, and lesves the male “provider” n desolate man in a dosorted houso, would stretch from Jume to Octo- bor, an unbroken wasie of hot, restless nights and loely meals. With Thoodore Thom- 88, that same individual knows that, seven nights ont of the week, he can stroll up the Avonuo,—and those sombre, magoificont palaces never yoom 80 stately as when ompty,—and find, at tho end of his walk, probably the finest orchestra in tho world, carrying him throngh three hours of the most delightfal music. Here he can rest his body and DATHE HIS 60UL IN HALNONT. His cigaris not interdicted, and he has at his command all tho beverzges known to the Ameri- can palate,” which their name is logion. Beside this, hoe enjoys the presence of a largo audience of well-dressed and_intelligent people, smong whom he stands an_excellont chauce of finding friends whose convorsation whiles away the broaks Letweon the parts, and rendersenduradle a stroll throngh tho ridiculovs apology for s gardon which you enter from the hall. The gist of the entertainment, the music, is wortly of the bighcst admiration, no causa of its excellence. but becauss its grows year by vear, and carries the teates and ruquirements of its bearers-withit. The open:' ing rogramme wes really o curiosity in this re- -pecg few yours 2zo it wonld haverolled fifty yards over the heads of one of our audiences. Among other things, it comprissd Weber'a over- ture, *‘Jubilee ;" Bestlioven's finale to the bal- lot-music in “Promethens;” tho introduction, wedding-march, and grand chorus from the thi act of * Lobengrin,"—and surely very fow things could bs better done than the way the orchestra rendered the wedding-march. on {ts exquis- ite atrains, a5 much swecter than the stan wodding-march we are nsed to s “ AS POLTRY 18 MORE LEAUTIFUL TNAN THUNDER, were distilled so deliciously into our ears, many a young heart swalled with ecstacy. Then we bad Schubert's overture ‘‘ Fierabras ; " a new meditation by Gounod ;_an allegrefto_from Mozart’s symphony in E flat; and Liszt's ‘“ Rhapsodic Hongroise " No. 2. To 8l out this programme, Auber, Mendelssohn, and Strauss were mada to do duty s popular composers! TLe concerts following Liave baen no less classical, We bavo kad *‘'Trois Danses Allsmandes,” by Dargiel ; the quintetie from the third act of Wayner's ““ Die lleistersinger yon Nuremberg; ™ Hofmaon's * Hucgarisn Suite " (new); i thoven's Symphony No, 2 in D, op. 36 ; Mendels- sohn's * Reformation Symphony ;" Dndley Buck's overture to the cantata ** Don Munio,"— a deserved LECOGNITION OF AN AMEIRICAN COMPOEER ; Gounod's overtare, * Le Medecin Malgre Lui,” for the first time ; end 80 on. ~Ithas taken hard, steady work, sud indefat- igable climbing, to bring together-an orchestra. equal to the faultloss interpretation of shese works, and to_carry its listeners up to such heights. Bat Thecdors Thomas is too ener- getic to rest here. For him, as for all great workers, * Hilla peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise.” There are yot grander projecta to be accomplished. TIHE LIFE-DREAM of this accomplished coaductor ig, firss, to make his orchestra & resident one, 80 as not to be compelled to go knocking sbout the country in the winter-time making & living in order to hold together until summer. This he has now nearly socomplished. During tho whole of thoe last winter, the main work of the orchestra hss been in Now York and Brooklyn, oxceptiog the con- certs given in the principal cities of Ney En: gland. the last of which was the grand Handel aud Haydn festival, which the Bostonese mildly applauded with their bean-nurtured hands and bluc-gingham umbrellss. His second ambition is to obtain a permanent chorus, so that choral com- positions may be produced with the same perfec- tion which haamarked the symphonic works ; and the third, after having obtaned a anent :ind well-appointed home- for this imf:rr:min- on, TO_PEODUCE THE SYMPHONIC DRAMA. juetly called “ the supreme type of musical art.” Surely, if he can accompliah it all, a magnificent life-work . - The winter-season bas been so remarkable 1 indicating the advance of musical appreciation in this community, that lovers, and certainly students, of musio.will be glad to note some of the more prominent works that have been pro- duced. Tlie svmphonies havo been:the Third, Fifth, Sixth, Soventh, and Eighth of Besthoyen : the Bacond of Bchumann; the C Major of Schu- Dert; the *Im Walde ” and **Leonore " of Raft; the C Minor of .Gade; the '*Faust™ Choral 8ymphony, and tha Praludes” of Liezt. The ciassical oyvertures hsyo included the * Corio- lauus,” “Leonors”: No. 3. *“‘Egmont,” snd ““Weiko des Hauses™ of Beethoven; the “Bride of Messina” of Schumann; the “Eury- anthe™ of Weber; tho *Roman Camival” of Berlioz; the * SigraSlembs” of Brendsen : and tho “3feistersingor” aud * Lobengrin”. .of Wagner. Among the miscellanies have boen Rubenstein’s * Ivan IV.:" Volkmann's * Sere- nade;” Prahm's variations on a the t Haydn; sclections from Wagner's Tristah a1 Isoldo,” * Walkueren,” * Huldigungs March Bach’s and Handel's concertos for string’ or- chestra ; selections from Cherubini’s Medea ;” Berlioz's scherzo, *‘ Queen Alabh."” Besids theso, there have been vocal selections from Gluck, Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven. Toany one who bas tasted, here and thers, of thess delicious things, the mere menu of sucha bsnquet can- not be unintercstiog reading. Of - courss, our masical a3 woll as other diet must be lighter in the summer senson, but thero 15 NO TBASI MIXED UP IX IT, and the standard is kept high, andraised higher. As Las been intended, the summor-concerts ars not only a social ivstitution, they are a social necessity. Tho New York young man, deprived of motlier and sisters, and of lady friends, by tho call to arms at the watering-places, and with the theatro-doors closed in his face, would be utterly at a loss withont them:for ways in which to kill the timo which he so seldom thinks of saving alive. He is there, therefore, in full force and undiminished atiractivenoes. There sre some of Lis poculiarities which these gather- ings briog - out into unplessant prominence. It increxses to o remarkable degree WIS ALKEADY BEMAEKADLE SEL¥-CONSCIOUSNESS, He moves about the edge of the audicuce snd through the middle, ratiling his _stick, puffing Lis cigar, and addiog to the general effect of the music by bringing down_ his heels with a0 especial omphasis, and making sudible remarks, all with the apparent conviction thet all the eyes this sids of Delawars are upon him. But this is not so much his fault as it is that of the ball. There never was any other place which made a 10an foel 80 quickly that he was the centre of obsorvation. T'his has tho most extraordinary effects. I bave seen the most modest men grow comoeited in five minutos wndor the sHmUIAR: Of the public eve ; men who naver smoked in thelr lives will try a'cigar ; men who don't know a bar of music from aburglar's jimmy will dispanss with the pro- grammo altogather, hum with the orchestrs, and Took dreadfully knowing, ail nnaware that the disolay is wanted on an unattending crowd ; men sirike attitndes who never struck anything or anybody before ; and, indsed, an acate and oyn- iczl observer can witness bere more displays of Luman natars, bloowing ‘under the warmth of the gaslight INTO 3I\GNTFICENT IMBECILITY, than in any otlier gathering of a similar size, And, ihile Iam on the subjact ef the youn man, whois the e3me yesterday, to-day, n next week, I should liko to make'a digression, and inquire, wit considerablo sollcitade, if THE STICK-FEVER bas epread to Chicago. It is raging here in all its violence, as it has been for months, and is particalarly noticesble at Thomas'. The stick- Tfever compriees vther affections and complaint: though porips you know thet airesdy. Th“ § afflicted yourg man is first dressed in the elabo- rats English utils, everything about him being cut 8 10086 an hn.gg; a8 poesible ; if possitle, ‘ho bas hoavy side-whiskers, and a big, b scarf, fastoned clumsily witha garish pin. grasps his stick, 5ener:\llv a stout, rough cane, exactly in the middle, and rushes out on the Avenuo swinging the cane horizontally back and Torth, as if his ides was to pnnch as big & hole 15 ossible in the shoulder-blades of all the people n front of him and the cheeks or jaws of all the peoplo behind him. The accomplished man car- ties himself successfully, except that ono leg of his baggy trousers occasionally gets wound around the other, and momentary confusion re- sults. But, us a gencral thing, he succeeds in ‘making himself look English enough to con- vince you that his anceators came over with that Trecious gang of cut-throats, the followers of William the Conqueror. But the feable 1mitator of this ia the moat mel- ancholy thing in metropolitan existonce. Your ‘young American, through many bad cigars, late nights, ana immature driaking, is often far from being a robust and hearty individual. His tail- or's attompts to romedy the deficiency only give lum abollow and unreal look. He lacks the ‘cournge to make a bold figure; his weak and un- ‘certain knees bring his foot down Wwith an un- ‘stesdy flapon the pavement ; and, when this balf-baked creature seizos an immenss cane and begins to work it back and forth in that painfn] way, charity draws the curtain. 1t is the moat ‘excruciating thing since. the struggle of Josh Billings’ young man with the faint' mu-tn;é\n. UST. e HORS N VITA. Oft yon hisve asked why I conntantly grieve, Aud 28 often bavo I refuded to speak Of a pain which only death can relieve, And telling to you only shows me weak. Little T knew of what the world calls wealth ; Just a husbond and cliild,—household of thres,— A nice little Lome, thie plosurcs of health ; Yot this world then was a Heaven to me. N0 breakers below, nor storm-clouds above, "To thresten the lite of my argony; And, under the sheen of a matchless love, My beart bounded wildly with ceatacy | Bometimes 1 would wonder if aught could take This cup from my lips ere I sipped my shara ; Thea the wild ruch of soul would swifily break O'er the sad thought, and drown every care | On one of ths battle-plaius of the South, He surrendered bis life, without u groan, While leading his runks 16 the cannon’s mouth, And hisgrave is now nuarked (O God !} “ "Unknown {7 All the onrrents of lovs then turned fo my boy, Who grew Like Lis sire, my shicld from all harm | ‘Then death came again, robbed lifo of all joy, And flung 'round tho grave an endearing charm, Oh ! how dork was day and rayless was nlgbty And how gloo.uy then the warld seemed to ba Gone evermore all that gave me delight,— Thencaforth it had naught of Hoaven for me Mid the merciless wreck, tho’, death had wrough Oxe bitter-sweet pleasure wuz not denled : Behl To move and muse in tha halls of ths cot That the g0ds of my heart had sanctifiod, Ope autumn.night a great city was doomad ; on palace and hovel, church-spiro and dome, Great temples of trade—all wure consumed, , - And before that blast fell my little home. Drifting slone down the current of life, Often I wonder how long it will bo Ere I'm freed fzom worldly sorrow and strife, And joined once more with my household of thres, The sunlight that once caused my life-blood to leap Has ceased to impart its warmh as before ; And winda that formerly played with my choek Now painfully piarce my frame to the core. 9 And I ask, *What is there left on thir sphero To give my Life zest, or lend the world beauty ? Tsfrthis: We're sorry; bo of good chieer; Be true to yomself ; it 13 your duty 77 A | when woman's heart is brokon with blows, How pitiiess the round of ssmpathy ! And, wiien her apirit is crushied with woes, OB1 how pewerlosa all phiiosophy | AsrnTax Dexse, = e i -A VERNAL METAPHOR. Dear Summer, goddess of all barmonles~ Thou of cerniéan eyes and breath of balm— Why dost thou linger in the land of palms, Toying forever with its gorgeons fowers, Dreaming in vast, luxuriant solitudes 7 The laud is cold Becauss thy dainty feet Have presszd it not for many weary dayn; Tho swollen streams plungs down through bsrren fielde, ~ And dash their hearts on gray rock-battlements ; The clouds look down upan the flowerless earth, And yaste themselves in tears ; the lonely tracw Reach out thetr ewupty arma and maan for thee ; Thera 14 a sullen 2orrow in the air At thy delny ; the never-resting winds Btray like sad spirits throcgh the dreary world In quest of thea; the chreriosa days go by, Dragging tholr leaden length across the sun, Brioging despair ; ths nights s full of woe; Tnquuet volces sigh In evcry grove ; And beavy, aimless clouds blot out 'the stars, All Naturs languiabes : : Why etill delay ? 0, ronse thes from thy conch of trovic flowers | Forego the dallianca ; gird thy vestil zone, Recrown thy brow with odorous anadezns, Yield thy long tresscs to the yearning winds, Tnfold thy dewy yan:, and kisa the stars | Bpesd.to the longing Learts that love theo best 3, Bring thy wide largess to a weary werld ; Bcatter thy bountles with an afuent hund ; Pour out thy benison : From cliff t» dale The sad 61d Earth wil thrill with warmest lifo ; A million choral throngs will welcomo theeo The happy winds will laugh among the trecs ‘The dancing sess will never casse thy praise The solemn hills will wreathe thelr lips in smiles; The humbis flowers will creep to kirs thy fest ; And through ths blooming land all liviug things Will Iify x:{ovaicu fall of gratitule: “Thank God the crowned Bunmcr comes again ! * SR Tuxo, CARPENTES, - April, 1874, ? —_——— PAST REMEMBERING OR FORGETTING. 4 And but for that sad, shrouded cye ‘That fires not, wins not, weeps zot now ; And but for thrt chill: chang~less brow Whose touch thrills with mortality,— Bome moments—aye, one traaclerous hour— Ho ntill might doubt the tyrznt's power ; 80 fair, 60 calm, o softly sc:led, The first—last ook by deatl: revealed.” Yer, thiat in the same fair face ‘Your lightest foot-fall could flush § To-dsy, in its still, white gruve, Moved neither 5 tremor nor blosh, Aye, 5toop with remorsclul pain, "And Xiss the shuc montb, if you will; But even your kissca are valn - To waken cn answering thrill, And tonderly, satlly pzses Tlie waves of her tuit, dusky hair; Yet under the old cazes Sbe sleops with a smile, unaware, Look long at the sweep of lah,— At white lids #nowed over deep eyes ; Look! they have censed 10 flagh Thelr glory of glad xurprise, You make no moan of regret, And your faco fs turned from the light; Will ever your heart forget That gitlih form shrouded in white? My words ere bitter, I know; More bitter my thoughte, as I trace Tha Iines of an zwful woy Plowed deep fn tho bloom of her face, Bweet lips for the last time kisred,— Your flewers close-clasped 0 iicr Lreast; Boleavoher! You are not miseed In the huah of eternal rest, & Mipiast Emzraso, e ¢ Wood Wanted »—Discovery of = Decp-lzid and Frightful Plot, From the Sedalia (30.) Democrat, To show how low and dogradsd conutry jour- nalism has become, we will cite this fact: Thirty years azo all these nowspaper fiends went into cahoot, end started papers fcr tho simple pur- 0a0 of layiog up enormons ‘amounts of wood. or this purpose every counfry paper put this notioo at the head of i{l lcu.lrcyo]nmpnt ) WOOD WakIZD.—Wa Wil tako wood for suka for this paper. Bring on your wood ! i Y'ee, “ bring on your wood.” Nark that! Now, what ars theae rascals doing ? ‘Why, they bave been running newspapers for wood until they have got all the wood in the country in thoir own hends. And now wood is up—they've made a corner in it. *“ But," the reader will ask, “whora is their markot? What good wil it do ther Poor, ignorane soul! Wo'll tell you. After these country editors have got sll the wood in the country into their own_bands, what do they do? Why, thoy g0 to work, tooth and toe-nail, and advocate cremation !~ They know perfectly well, juat ng 800D 28 cremation bocomes a part of American politics, every man will ba trsing it on his mother-in-law and wite's relations. And wood will go up 0 %160 a cord! Every 006 Of these flonds will havo this advertizement on ono whols eide of their paper: To CREMATIONIATS.—~T2n millicn cords of the best Rickory, old and dry, just tho thing for burning yous dear on-s fn the quizkest time poszidle, Oid ax- gxigu for kdndling, throvnin gratis. Apply at this Then thess country editors will be rolling i wedth.,émstad “g»s' n: l;zd molasses, Lm;mtzh:; wouldn't no more think of exchangi; i than running & patent outside. 505 TR JOB Ab; this is & deep-laid plot | THE TRAFFIC IN DEGREES. How Certam American “Cniversities” Confer “Doctorates” upon Ea- glishmen, A Thriving Trade in Capital Letters. { As the time has come for manufacturing Doe- tors, whethor of Medicine, Law, or Divinity, wo are reminded of the vast proportions which ths business has aitained. How the times have changed in this respect since those inwhich Arch- bishop Lombard was tho only Doctor of Theol- ogy omong the graduatos ot Paris, end Chancel- lor Wernerius was tha only gradusis of Bologna who was entitled to the degree of LL. D.! The Doctorate was, we beliove, FIRST CONFERRED IN ENGLAND during the reign of King John; but wo do not hear anything very definite upon the sub-~ ject until the time of Edward IV,, when the title of Doctor of Music was conferred, English- men of that day orossed the Channel in pursuit of both the studies and the honors of a learnod career. Chaucer studied in Italy. The English universitiea bave always been, and continue to be, exceedingly cautious in the granting of honorary degrees. The Scotch uni- versitics aro scarcely less 60, and require some show of age, attainments, and eervices, in the candidate for titular distinction. The Univer- sity of Dablin conditions the LL. D. upon cer- tain spocified acquiroments in scholarship. The London University (which is simpiy a Board of Examiners) gives no honorary titles, bat con- fers ail the degrees, from B. A. up to LL. D., in reward for ‘passing™ & severo ex- amination. Those who obtain their degree in this way ars caroful to have the fact known, in order to distinguish themselves from the common herd in America, and other honorary “Doctors.” Buch, indeed, is TEE ODITA attached to the American degree in learned oir- clos abrosd, that soms who have used every merns to obtain it are obliged, on certsin occa- 8ions, to behave as though they were asbamed of it. Whon chaffed by their superiors, they will oven dinown the concealed diploma. . 3 Beveral snubs have been received from En- Ela.ml and Scotland in return for offers of titles y American colleges. The' Rav. George Gilfil- lin, the noted Scotch. proacher, de- clined the IDicinifatis Doctor {from this country with an expression bordering hard upon contempt. It ia noedless to add, howaver, that tho honor was not proffered by Harvard, Yale, or Brown. But robuffs are exceptional, Tue rule is, that American degrees find BRISK AND STEADY MARKET in Great Britan. Their multiplication there has attracted much attention, and occasioned con- siderable sarcasm. A very fow years ago there was not a Dissenting Doctor of Divinity in ail the United Kingdom; now D. D.’s are oompar- atively as thick there as they are in this coun- try, where you cannot pitch an inkstand ont of the window without disfiguring the person of a “ Doctor " of some kind or other. ** Glasgow and Edinburgh,” we are told, *teem with dentisLs, licentiates, and preschers, who had re- courss to Americs for a o to their names.” ¢ In 1843 8 regiment of tors received the Lonorary D. D. from Americs.” Io an sddress before the British Medical Asso- ciation, &t Dublin, Sir Domiulc Carrigan said : 1t is notorious that, both in Germany and America, thers ars Universities that . i SELL THEIE DIPLOMAS Just as they sell beer or Indizn corm, to all thoss who can afford to pay for them.” Rir Dominio read a letter from *‘a gentlemsn connected with the medical press of London,” in which thas gentloman testifies that he had been *calledupon by an American agent with diplomas duly signed aud eealed by ons of the American colleges, nine or ten years old. He could have s supply ‘ecn years old if required.” The agent * Lad s variety in stock, price £20; but he wonld allow & discount off, 28 it was a matter of business.” The speaker oxposed ANOTHER DODGE of the London ‘agents” who give, as one of tho means for obtaining American and German degrets, a “viva voce examination.” And, when the ** candidate for honors” inquires where and before whom thts is to take place, he is referred to “one of their own graduates in his neighbor- hood.” “On passing such vivs voce examina- tion, and payment of £32, he was to have the degree!™ It is & noteworthy fact that no one has ever attempted to trade in the dogrees of Brtish or Irieh universitiss, It has come to be quite common to see in the English newspapers. = SUCH ADYLATISEMINTS AS THESE: Qlergymen and other gentlemsn qualified by educy~ tonal sttainmonts and social status can obtain promo- tion- n - abieutia to learned degrees in Divinity, Laws, Arts, Mfusic, Medicine, and other reco ordera, Strictest confidence sasured. Address 1L, A. Blooms- bury Terrsce, . _ Degrees 1.—)L A., Ph.D., Ph. B, L L B,LLD,, AL D, Qualified geutlomen, desirous of pro- Ceeding to thess honazary degrees, receive official n- stroctions and advice without charge, by applying to B.—These degrees and _diplomas; are guarsntced and thoy aro lassad by colleges and waives: wered to grant the same, Only the applica- tions of authors and other decidedly - datos will be replied to. The cost of these “degrees in absentia or in presendia,” is, sccording to one circnlar, for “Bachelor In any Faculty, £15;" for ** Doctor in tny Facuity, orfor Ph. D. or. . together, £20." ANOTUER CIRCTLAR g informs the aspirant for Alphabetical designa- tion that he “can obtals sny degree from the American University of Philadelphia, in the United Btstes,” of the advertiser, whois * the accredited agent” in England. That Uaiversity ‘“grants its bonorary degrecs on the recom- mendztion of " tho advertiser, who will procure them if *formsl application * is mado, and = fee enclosed of £21 for the M. A., or £28 for .the D.D. orLL. D. % The candidate is aesured tbat he will *save money, time, trouble, and religitus principles,” by making application for an American instead of a German cegreo because. _to socure the degros from Gottingen or Leipzig, requires ‘s’ Latin potition, a_ Latin Vits Curriculum, uunexceptionable certificates, and a learned dissertation, of not less than thirty-two pages foolscap, full sizo, on any subject of. literature, or philosophy, or acience, etc.;” whereasa coupls of capital letters from en "American university requires nothing but tha fee to *its accradited agent.” The prorequisites for a German \‘Iefiren, owever, are found, upon stepping bohind the scenes, £0 bo far leea formidable than they ap- pear in the advertisements, The agent ** will Rrrango all that.” 5 A FAC SMILE, of the di{sluma of the Unirersilatis Americanae, Apud Philadelphiam is now lying before us. 1t makes the customary display of Latio, and great seal.” and conoludes with the following names : John Buchanan, M. D.; Honry E. Jones, A. AL; Robert Simpson, A. AL! Thomas A. Rogers, D, D.; James Davis, A. M.; Jobn T. Goodrich, D, D.; James M. Bucliauan, Seo. - - : These gentlemen do not depend excinsively upon their traftic in capital letters for their livelihood. One of them has besn found in ths more honorable business of ¢ RETAILING EOOT-DEER in Brooklyn. As they have no students, thelr preseuce isnot required at the * University Build- 1og,” whers only a *“ Dean” is requirad to teach * the pure principles of electicism without big- otry," to *discard Alengrel.\lmi:’ to_superintend tho ** Museum " in the rear, which is devoted to !+ Seience,"—the scionce of obscenity. This bogus title manufactory in Philadelphis 18 BTILL IN FULL PLAST, it soems, notwithstanding the “ Act to prohibit the sale of Academic Degrces,” passcd by the Pennsylvania Legislatare in 1871. Its advertise- menta continue to appear in the Landon jour- nals, both religious and_secalar, and the liat of ita ** Doctors of Divinity " is coutinually ex- tending. The West. aod Chicago itsolf, not~ witbetanding its well-known repugnance to shams of every kind, has, we are mortifiod to know, a share in the titulary fruit of thiy Phila- delphia concern. There are at least TWO OTHER AMERICAN ‘* UNIVERSITIFS " which bave ‘“‘accredited egents” in England.- One is called sometimes ** 5t. John's College, Brooklyn,” and gometimes **The University of Brooklyn;"” and the cther is called ** Tho Clin- tonian University of Arkansas.” Poth of these seats of learning, accordiLg to the pratenrions of their advertisers, have everything that coutd be derired, except an existence. It also appears that these * Universities™ con- for not ozly a degros, but & hood, Waich may bs seen in academic praccesions, or clssmical demonatrations, st Oxford zad Cambridge. Does ggor?.-,o Francis Train, or Mark Twain, know of is Artemus Ward, we recollect, was * suffishently prowd ” of hisdegreo of ** T. K.” “The pretty scarlet and black hood of an Ox- foxd 3L H. bas seb the fazhion; and all the Toods supposed to belong to Gortingen, Brook- lyn, and Philadelphia, spproximato in every respect to the Oxford hood.” *‘An agent very succesaful in the dieposal of dogreea gots the hood made.” **No leas than FIFTY £OODS of this kind have beon supplied by a woll-known London honse within s comparatively snort tims.” If snything would deter the clergyman 20 adorned from turning his back upon the con- gregation when he pronounces tho benediction, this * pretty scarlat and black " eppendage would doit. If theso reverend frauds should also shavae their beads clean, from one of thoir long ears to tho other, they would present on addi- tional attraction to the audience which thoy are endeavoriog o hoodwink. . Inons case, a clergyman of ‘the Church of Engiand, who really believed in the authonticity of the American degree and hood, which he woro *‘at all times of his miniatration,” under- took to prove the identity of *'St. Jobn's Col- ]e%o, Brooklyn, from which he had received his «DH.D.” Tut, alas! Mr. Moran, our Secretary of Legation at London, replied that *'HE ENEW NOTIING of St. John's Collegu;” and President Coch- rane, of the Brooklyn Collegiate Institate, ‘*was mot aware of the existence of such an institution;” and Mr. Barnard, Commigsioner of Education, doclared: “ Thers was no wuch collego.” Nothing was left to the credulons parson but to doff h:s “ pretty ” hood, and to priot his name henceforth minus the couple of D's. But ““St. Jobn's Collego, Brooklyn,” continues, we understand, to do a thriving trade in capitst lotters. Like Pecksniff, whon \fiscoveres in practicing upon A, it is ‘sl tho more fiecessary that it should practice mupon B, if oaly to keep its hand in. And so the trade goes on.2ad we have only, in conclusion, to call the attention of bnyers to the BEASONABLENEES OF THE TERMS, If the satisfaction of being addressed as “ Doctor” instcad of * Mister " (swhich is com- ing to be an unusal title in this oountry) is ot worth $100 of any man’s money, we woald liko to lmow what that satisfaci’on is worth. Botler bea ' Dr.” of some kind, if it is nothing but a Corn-Doctor. Ths Awerican who bas made_his monay and his fame by opening oysters in Ful- ton-Street Market found the Leencst falicity of his Jife fn appending to his nems on the foregn hotel-books, * F. R, S.” He had all tho atten- tion he doaired ; and it was not until he had re- turned home that those who bad ministered ro oagerly to his comfort fouznd out that hia talis- manic lelters meant—Fried, Koasted, and Btewed ! WAGER OF BATTLE. The Last Case in which This Ancient Law Wzas Appealed To. From the New York Times. Few persons, perhaps, who read with plesstre in the pagesof “Ivanhoe” the account of tha combat between the Templar £nd the champion of tho unfortunate Rebeccs, and Who pause to |Elcnlltq on the strange state of éociety which then existed, whers s person’s honmor and his lifo rested froquently on the ea- duranco of a horse or the tonghness af an ash lance, areaware to kow late a day this mode of deciding criminal questions’ wes ths law of England. It will no doubt excite the surpriss of some of the readers of this article to fearn that the first quarter of this boasted ninetoenth ceutary nearly witnossed & similar trial by com- bat to settle the question of guilt or innocencs in a case of murder. Those recders who have heard of tha case before may foel interested in the aocount here given of its details, which has been abridged from a collection of remarksble trials recently published in England. Mary Ashford was a young girl of tho moat fascinating manners, of lovely person, in the bloom and prime of life, and living for some time under the protection of her uncle, a small farmer residing at Laoglsy, Warwick County, England, On tke 26th of Xfay, 1817, the unfortunate young woman weat t0 Biumingham. On her way she called upon = friend, one Hannah Cox, at the neighboring village of Erdington, and ar- ranged that she should be back esrlyin the eveaing and go to a dance at Tyburn. Abrabam Thornton was at the dance, admired Mary, and was heard toeay, “I bave beea inti- mate with her sister, and I will be intimate with Rer, though it should cost me my life.” Hs accompsuied hor from the dencing-room, and was Been with her at 3 slila about 8 a. m. At4a.m.she callod at her friend Cox's, and was then calm, composed, end in good spir- ita. Bhe left thera betwreen 4and 5 8. m., at or immediately after which depariure she was scen on har way home by three witnesses. Abont 6 s.m. a Iaboror found a bonnet and & bundls in a neighboring field, close by the top of = slope that led down to » pit filled with water. The poolwas dragged with s hay-rake and xs6t of long reins, and the bady of Mary ord was discovered. outraged and murdored. Death kad probably been caused by drowning, the body having been thrown into the pool whils inseneible. Thornton was, without any hesitation, com- mitted for trial on the Coroner’s inquest. The details of the case, as given in the evidence, need not be dwelt on here. Many circum- atances—the marks of foot-prints, which corre- spondod with his shoes, and his remark about tha murdered girl when at the ball—seemed to point him_out as the guilty perty. On tho otber hand, strong evidence was brought forward by the defense. It was showu that Mary could not have met her death before 4:30 a. m., probably not until 4:45 8. m. It was indisputably proved that Thornton tas seon at 4:30 2. m., ot & dis- tance from the pit in & stralght line of 134 miles, but by the nesrest road. When %o seen be was calm, and did not seem 88 if he had been running. He was a short and remarkably thick- with legs “as thick as hovel-posts,” % to his own attorncy's description of him in instructions to conceel, so that, unless tho witnesaes were mistaken as to the time, his alibi was clearly proved. Mr. Justico Holroyd, in giving ths caso to ths jury, after summing up the evidonce, said that ibis was one of thoso mysterious transactions in which justico could not be done but by com- paring most carefully all the facts and circum- stances of the cago. . . . . If any fair and reazonable deubt arosa in iheir minds as to his guilt, tha prisoner was oatitlod to the benefit of tho dombt, . .- . The jury, after consulting sbout eix minutes, refurned & verdict of ** Not guilty.” In the opinion of the whole community, this ended the care. Ths verdictof & jury in all criminal “ cazesis considered final, and thangb, whers the prisoner is found guilty, the ssutenca may be modified or remitted by tha pardoning power—in the event of acquittal the prisozer can never azain bo put on Lis triel for the same offense. This was the frnctice at that time a3 much as nuw, but an old proceeding, & relic of the feudsl agos, had never bsen abolished by any statute, and was, therefore, tha Jaw of En- gland in 1817. It was the extraordinary resort to this procesding which has made Thornton's case 80 notorious. By the law os it then stood the heir-at-law of a murdered person, or of a person considered to bo murdored, was at liberty to appeal the por- son suspected. This appeal was, in fact, a criminal prosecution (in the form of & privato action) put in forca by ono privato subiccs sgainst another. It differed fromapublic prose- cution in that it sought to have the offender punished not because the crime was = public offense, but because it wasaprivateinjury. Mora than this, because it was a private action, sud because the crown cannot modify or romit the decision of the jury in a private suit, it followed that ni case & verdict of *‘guilty " should be ren- dered inan “ eppeal of murdor,” die the de- fendant must; the pardoniug power eould not save him. In earlier days this proceeding was, no doubt, used 28 o means of extorting compensation, bat a8 civilization advanced and offensoa were no longer redeemed by money, this privats process Was, in rave inatances, put in forcs in order to msure the infliction of some punishmont, at lezst, on the person suspected, tfiouih no pecu- niary componsation might be allowe Although the practico was quite obsolete in 1817, of ita legality thero could be no doubt. as the decision of the Court of King’s Bench in this cege showed. s The acquittal of Thornton on the indictments tried at the Warwick Aseizes gave rise to & great deal of diesatiafaction, not ouly in that county, but throughout England. An opinion was formed ard resdily gained ground that a great feilure of justice had taken placa; that iho verdict had been given against evidence, and that the wit- neases for the prisoner had in the matter of tho alibi-willfally and deliberatcly committed per- jury. Itis not, perbaps, to be wondered at tuat blic opinion should have been strong againat ‘Lornton. The ovidence was strong, and to persons not able or willing to criticiso evidence, eonvincing The crime, 400, assuming muzdor to_have been committed, was a most brutal ono. In addition, it was stated, and believed, that Mary Ashford's cage was by Ro means the first in which Thorn- ton had been concerned; that he had been on other occasions placed in s gimilar predicament ; but tbat the offense bad always been condone: by money, and largo sums paid by his father, in order to avoid the dirgrace of a conviction. Of the truth of theso assertions there was no proof, but the public did not require, anl cerlainly would not pay eay atiention to, proofs that did not coincide or barmonize with their own preconceived copvic- | tiops, The resolt was that a groat and ua- reasonable prejudice was raiseq : Thoraton. When e preseed i bis oy s borhood, and especially when h mmmfihnq, crowds followed ang i},':fm:ffim To whom 15 due the credit of suggesienA0- subsequent proceediogs doesnot -p%em & Bowever, wero raised by subscripty determined to get Thoraton, by paecdit v obsoloto “writ of appesl for murde - 4, second time on his trial, in tho hopy thy 24 ould bo found which Wanld ngh iy e 2. Yious one, huve any hesitatio > m%; " y R in mnrlm_,‘. 0 only way this could be accomp] ished by getting the Leir-at-law of tho dace Ty Ashford, {o inatitute the proceedin, m"‘;‘g both hor father aad grandlather wers Godd’ neither of them conld claim as hagy 4106 cording to the Iaw as it then i inberitanco conld ineally escend, fi"' bad loft brothers her surriving, the o 2 of whom, William Ashford, s 'yoac, "t baraly of sge, would be her heir-at-l. i3 scen, and consented to the brocesdiagapre g™ Tho trial hiad taken place in August: by ghs all the preliminaries were arranzed, oS Sth of that month » wrt was issaed fo gyZt iff of Warwickshire commanding him fy S22~ Abraham r’é'lhorlnmn o bo respprelindel T wus accordiugly arrested in the net dav. Rty n Novomber 6th this extraordinary camo before tho Conrt of King'a Benoh, pett Yord Ellenborough, Chiet Justico, agq o2} puisne Judges, Bevlos. Abbait, (afterward 13 “Tonterden,) aud Holroyd (who had praades tho trial). " The taicata of ‘an able By o brought 10 bear npon tho cases, " Messre (g Guruey, Ricliardzon, and Chitly sppegiet - tho sppellant. Roypolds, Reader, and Tk for the dofeadant. ford ane ornton wers bro; coust, and confrontod with eack othar s difforent writs and retums wero read, oduis tha count of appeal, charging Thornton g the murder, and which concluded miip Li3 that, if * Thornton denied the felon; der, then that hie (Asnford) was mé,'fid;,,f“‘ the same, and had found plsdges to proseccips At this stage of the proceodings apolies was tgldf; {o!x; a shert adjournment, o iy ground of the extraordirary nature of p, Brococdings. vt g t was now generally believed that g would go hard with the prisonce, Toy o state of public feeling rendered is biskly probablo that the jury. bofors which it sy certain that he would have to atanda trial, womld bave no leammg tome the side of mercy. The extraordinary iy of the proceedings 50 far, aud the genstal iz, rance which exizted, even, as it seemed, srupy the ‘nble jurists who wero actually engsgad the case, 48 to the detaila of its manigemens, of courza prepared the public for further extr. dinary dsvelopments, but perhaps h: adozy people in England bad any idea.of ths g ious roply by which the appelles's counss} 14 decided to save ‘their client fiom” the askmn prodicament of & second encounter with 3 On Monday, the 17th. the court mas croeisf to excess, and long befora the doora wey opened a great numoer Of pPersons wers gy ecmbled on tha outeide in hops of admituey, It was cnly with great diffiouity, and after oy resistance that Thoruton was brought info coud iu the custody of the keaper of tho ‘Marshelw Prison; and placed in the centre of tha frf Tow of barristers, bobween to of Lis coansel, Tho count delivered in on the first day yzy then read, and the question put: *Abribay ‘Thornton, how gay you, are you guilty-of ths felony and marder whereof you aro sppeald cg Dot guilty " Thornton then read from a paper placed tn hif hand by his counsel: *‘Not guilty, sod [ ready to defend the same by my body” Ho then took from his counsel, Alr. Resds, & pair of new buckskin .glores, o gauntlets of antique form, tnd embroide) in &_peculiasr maner, one of which be i on his left hand the other ke flung down ‘uyd the floor of the court. In falling it struck i ford, who sat facing Thornton, on the hesd,u then foll at his feet. He stooped to pick W gy § 2nd 2t one momens there was a po:slhlma \ the challenge being reslly accepted, but a v ¢ sudible whisper of *‘Let it lie,” induced Aeied F to relinguish his intention. Ths gauntlet v then tsken into the custod of the oficerofty | court. 1t was ‘mow the turn of the appallor's coms} t0 ak for tume, which was, of course, gracted, They first objected thnt the appellor wasd wesk body, aud incapable of accepting d battle. Subsequenily, on the adioarned b, they did not press this ples, but denied the i peliee's right to trial by batile, becausa thet ‘wero violent presumptions that he wss guiliye the murder. _ : ‘Upon this point, which became _thevital ond of the caso, the sble counsel on both es, the soveral subsoqaent adjomrnmests, mod themselves waged battlo, 'Old black-laiter suthorities, precedonts of the Edward. 1L xad Henry IV., extracts from the works of Glaurils and Bracton and Flota were cited. Tindal, coa of Tnornton's connsol, after showing that %4 whole proceeding was a Norman imporishi read from the ancient ** Grand Coustumier”d Normandy in sapport of bis client's cause. ~ At length the court, by Lord Ellenbarongh delivered its decision. It declarod that thems Jzid down that * aa appelles may dofond Linse] by his body on being appealod. unless soms yise lent presumption malkes against him whica dos not admit of proof to the contrary,” was talsy of England; that no such violens presumpiies existed in this case, and tha the trial of buit must take place, uvless, the plaintill decin this mode of trial, the dofendent is entildd ¥ ‘go free. o A farther adjournment then took plscs &3 April 29, 3n h‘hx%b day defendant was brougd up for judgment. B e mp]urt ‘prevailed and obtaived crodit £d the applicant had decided to ICCB!;: he & fondsni'a chballenge, aud tuat the et would have to award the combat, and curixilf was at the highest pitch to learn the ms ner of battle und tho time snd spot whet it would take place, The public, howrs was destined to bo balked of its show..Th aprellor declinad the combat, and Thornta il thereupon discharged. Pablic feeling, hovers, being.atill prejudiced sgainst him, and bis it on the appeal huving givon him an uoeqrahd notoriety, he left the country and cume, it % £aid, to Zyew York. : Had Ashford accepted the challenge, might bave dopo had he been physell stronger, or had hia of. vengs against derer been more powerfal, ) have undoubtedly taken place, for ‘mflfll:‘ circumstauces could the crown have mur';_flu with s private action =8 this was. -It* have been a strange scene to presankyid vear that sax the death of Sir Samnel Bouilh to a generation which bad witnessed the sy cation of stoam to navigation and the prinaog ress. p P fa tho following session Paclisment sbolitsl & both tho appeal of murder and wager of L = A MAY-SONG. "Raund the May-pole swinging, On the vilisge green, Gladsoran youth Is siniing 3, 8 Welcome to the Queen. : trow the mead with Tuses, Chent a song of praise; Sweutly Love refoses. In thesa happy days. "Round the May-pole wheeling, ‘Mesry couples plas; i Cheerfai belis are pealing Welcome to the May. ‘Hail the fairest matden, Vied to Vernal King; Come with ofl'rings Ldez, Elossoms of the Spring. Life is aver flesting, G Slumaare but hours ive ts 358 greetin, With bright songs and How'r Lift the vell of xadnews, Winter’s night s 46WD, Eartl ia fall of gladness, Sprtugia on W O3S, ez Caicaco. —_——— TO THE MEAIORY OF HORACE GREELEY: Bleep weary heart! thy work is doze, Thy restices throbbings all are over; Armbition's goal could not be wen By thao this side the mystic river. Yetall thy days of csasoleas toil, i And cll the good thiy bands have Wroud 8hull ba as germs fn genial sail, To bud exd bloors with beaniy {raughts Brave, noblo heart ! we bid thes alacp, Aud rest theo from the nolve and andey Till Lovo's soft, velvet robes shall ereep Cler every haman fault and blnnl-ltf. And give 1o thee what's justly thine: ‘Che wish o blesa the gl!lr(uanDWI Aud, upward in the Aigat of time, Tilo world will ceass to blamo and wordets And more, *twill learn to count thes 904 And wweavo o lanrel-wreath for thee From out the deeds for which it would ‘To-day condsmn thy memorY. And 50 it I3 whosows In tears. And dies befors his goal 18 won, BLall reap 1o the sternal years 3 The golden fruif o bOgUD: | o prre RocursTes, N. Y., Dec. 8, 1872, e —Tt occarred Lo & acholar while writing 357 osition to remark that ‘ An ox does not 857000 48 AR Greter, bub I can fun gl