perhaps slumbering Charley.' In moonshine or in darkness; from step to pillar, or tree to porch; a thousand unearthly lights flashing before his eyes, and ten thousand undefined objects chasing each other in a circle around him; the votary of Bacchus presses on in his ballowed pursuit. At last, he encounters the keeper of the night. No questions are asked; the parties understand each other perfectly. The watchman knows that it is an irresistible influence, which it is useless to argue against, and he gets ready for the fight. If he is fortunate in the encounter, he bears his prisoner to the receptacle of dilapidated characters, vulgarly called the watch-house; and the next morning he carries out the duty, by conveying him to the police officer, who inflicts a farther penalty on the repentant sinner; not for assaulting a watchman, because he knows from experience that that is but a symptom of the disease, but for getting drunk.

But this is a mere digression. Let me pass to matters more appropriate to our profession and the subject.

I have seen many desperate cases saved at the bar, by great ingenuity or burning eloquence. I have seen one brilliant metaphor, one burst of soul-subduing pathos, so enwrap or work upon the feelings of the court and jury, that it has turned the tide of feeling and of judgment, and produced a verdict in favor of him whose words had so charmed his hearers. Yet I have seen these things fail. But there are two experiments, that in all my experience at the bar, I have never known to miss their end; and these are, in a desperate case, either to feign madness, or sham mad,' as it is technically called, or to introduce a female witness, whose tears are easily aroused. The first experiment belongs more appropriately to the criminal jurisprudence, and the latter to the civil side of the court. Let me give you an instance of each species, exaggerated, perhaps, yet containing the result and the process by which this and similar cases have been saved.

An individual in the town of -committed murder; black, diabolical murder. There was not a single feature in the case, that Mercy could render available. It was murder, in the true acceptation of the term. A lawyer of considerable eminence was called on by the prisoner, but after hearing his own statement, he could give him no other advice than this: My friend, if you are not hanged, it will be because you have broken jail, cut your throat, or shammed mad.' The murderer took the hint. He was not able to accomplish the first, and he was not willing to do the second; so he attempted the third. He came into court on the day of his trial, with one glove and one boot on; listened with apparent delight to his arraignment; and when asked, at the conclusion, if he was guilty or not guilty, answered, with a horse laugh: 'No, I thank you, Sir!'

In this philanthropic age, this was quite sufficient to arrest the torrent of indignation that had been rightfully setting against the offender, and to substitute in lieu thereof a feeling of intense sympathy. 'He's mad!' said one. Poor fellow!' muttered another. "What

a mercy we have discovered it before he was tried!' ejaculated a third. Why do n't they take him out of the box?' demanded a fourth. By this time, the prisoner, in great glee, had put his glove upon

his foot, and thrust his hand into his boot. Of course this was entirely too much for the humane feelings of the crowd. 'Shame! shame!' was muttered by a dozen philanthropic souls. Take him out of the box!' echoed the mob in general. Certainly,' said the judge, 'take him out, by all means. Mr. Solicitor, you can have no possible objection? Not the slightest, may it please your honor, provided you let two or three of the bailiffs stand between him and me,' answered the solicitor. The benevolent by-standers made a rush to execute the mandate of the court, but the prisoner checked their zeal, though not their sympathy, by knocking down half a dozen of them with his boot.

'Gentlemen of the jury,' said the court, it will be quite unnecessary to enter into any evidence in this case. The unhappy prisoner has certainly, in a very wanton manner, destroyed the life of a man, and left his widow and helpless children to misery and want. But it must be very evident to you, that this act has been the result rather of misfortune than of crime. We have the evidence of our own senses that the prisoner is mad. No man, gentlemen, would conduct himself so strangely in a court-room, or would wear his boots and gloves in so eccentric a manner, if he were not mad. Gentlemen, I have studied the anatomy of the mind with much industry, and I think I may say, with considerable success. I flatter myself, I am particularly conversant with the subject of insanity. It may be proper. that I should give you the general outlines of the subject, as they may prove both interesting and instructive. Gentlemen, the brain is a very delicate organ. Connected with it, are two membranes of still more delicate organization. These are the dura mater, and the pia mater. These, intertwining with, and intersecting, the porous substance of the brain, contribute to the exercise of its transcendant powers. (Our judge knows something,' said one of the delighted sympathizers.) But they become impaired, and Reason, gentlemen, Reason reels and totters on her throne. The light of the mind becomes extinguished, and the unfortunate victim, acting under some terrible delusion, commits a deed foreign to his nature. But the disease developes itself in various manners. The most prevalent species, however, is that denominated homicidal insanity,' the prominent symptom of which is, a desire to take away human life. Such, I doubt not, is the case with the prisoner. Indeed, I think that the intelligent writers of the present age have very clearly demonstrated, that it is more or less the case with every man who commits murder. I have explained to you, gentlemen, in a very clear and brief manner, the law and science on this subject, and there can be no doubt that the prisoner is entitled to your acquittal.' May it please your honor,' interposed the Solicitor General, ‘do n't you think that the jury might pronounce this a case of malicious prosecution?'

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'Perhaps not, Mr. Solicitor,' responded the judge. I honor your humanity, Sir; I am rejoiced to see that you can rise superior to the feelings which too often prompt public prosecutors; but, I think, as a man has really been killed, it might be considered a bad precedent to declare this prosecution a malicious one.'

'Your honor misunderstands my motive,' said the Solicitor General,

who was at that time the only sane man in the court-house, and who was entirely thrown off his balance, in respect to the court, by the excessive folly of the proceeding: your honor greatly misunderstands my motive. I see very clearly that any man who is knave enough to play the fool, is very safe from conviction in this court. As I cannot, therefore, get my costs out of him, and as the county is insolvent, and there is no chance of getting my fees there, I thought that the jury might be persuaded to find a verdict of malicious prosecution, which would enable me to make myself whole out of the prosecutor.'

The court frowned, but said nothing. The jury returned a verdict of 'not guilty,' without leaving the box. The counsel for the prisoner moved for his discharge. 'I venture to suggest,' again interposed the solicitor, as this man is afflicted with what your honor calls 'homicidal insanity,' and as his disease may manifest itself again with like symptoms, that the public safety requires he should be locked up.'

Locked up!' thundered forth the amazed advocate of the prisoner; 'locked up, Sir!-a man declared innocent by an impartial and intelligent jury of his countrymen! Is this our boasted liberty! Are these the fruits of our glorious independence! (Great applause and tremendous excitement.) Sir, what has become of the immortal principles of the illustrious JEFFERSON, that all men were born free and equal!' What has become of the doctrines of the gigantic minds of the revolution! What has become of

'Oh, never mind, what has become of them, Sir,' answered the judge; the man is free; let him go.'

The prisoner by this time had got both his boots on his feet, and both his gloves on his hands, and making a very respectful bow to the judge, stepped out of the court-room, accompanied by his sympathizing and benighted fellow citizens. And so much for the humbug of homicidal insanity.'

But it is time that I should turn to the other mode of saving a desperate case, viz: by the tears of a female witness. I can scarcely find it in my heart to make a jest of this, for it is a feeling most honorable to the character of man. With whom, indeed, should he sympathize, if not with her who is the beauty of his day, and the brightness of his night? Who is the shield that turns away from him the darts of reproach, the winged arrows of slander, the heavy blows of misfortune? Who but WOMAN, darling woman, whose smile would create a paradise on the coast of Labrador! I know that I have a slight tinge of romance in my system, and it may be owing to that, that I have never been able to consider woman as the equal of man. I hold, I shall ever hold, the doctrine, that she is one degree nearer to a heavenly race. I cannot look upon her beautiful form; the exquisite simplicity and grace of her character; her kindness in affliction; her gentleness under reproach and oppression; her untiring devotion-I cannot behold these, and regard her as the mere companion and coequal of that rough, money-loving, pleasurehunting, cross-grained animal, called MAN. And thus regarding her, I may truly aver, that there is no object so terrific in nature, as an angry woman. The equinoctial gale, or the tropical storm, is nothing

to the fury of an incensed female. The gale and the storm are natural, as much so as the sunshine and the shower; but an angry woman is an unnatural spectacle - monstrum horrendum; a Vesuvius in Eden; the spirit of a devil in the bosom of an angel. But I had better leave prosing, and tell my story.

I instituted an action, for a large amount, in the county of The suit was brought upon a plain promissory note, which I was assured was founded upon good consideration, and I was curious to know what defence could be set up. I was aware that I had to deal with a wily adversary; and when I offered my note in evidence, and closed my case, I was more terrified than surprised, when I heard him direct the sheriff to call Mrs. Mary Jackson. The witness appeared. To my horror, she was a perfect beauty; possessing a sweet countenance, with an exquisite form. I saw at once that my antagonist had formed the same judgment of human nature that I had, and that he was about to make the experiment of washing away the obligation of a note of hand, by the tears of a female witness. I knew that nothing but a desperate effort could save my client, and that her testimony must be excluded, before she had time to cry.

I rose at once. 'I perceive,' said I, addressing the court,' that this lady bears the same name with the defendant; I therefore respectfully request that she be placed on the voir dire.' This was done. Will you be kind enough to say, madam, what relation you are to the defendant?'

Sir,' answered she, applying a beautifully-embroidered handkerchief to her eyes, I am his injured wife!'

Then, of course, your honor, the lady's testimony is inadmissible.' 'Oh, very well,' interposed my adversary; 'you wish to keep the truth from the jury, do you? Gentlemen of the jury, you see what technicalities are resorted to, to procure a verdict against my client. I hope you will appreciate it, gentlemen.'

By this time, the lady was a beautiful representation of Rachel of old; and one glance at the jury was sufficient to convince me that my case was ruined. I turned to my client: 'You are gone, my friend,' said I. 'Gone!' said he; gone! my dear Sir; don't give up my suit so coolly. I shall be made a beggar, if I lose this case; and then what will become of my wife, and my poor daughters !' 'Oh, you have daughters, have you? Run and bring them, my dear friend! If they mine, we must countermine. Bring them,

one and all!'

My client rushed out, and as he lived but next door, he almost instantly returned, with a half dozen of as pretty girls as could be found any where. My antagonist's face fell to zero.

May it please your honor,' I began, 'I desire to offer some rebutting testimony.'

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Rebutting testimony, Mr. C-? why your adversary has not been permitted to examine his witness. What have you to rebut?'

'A great deal, your honor. The witness has given some testimony. She called herself the injured wife of the defendant. Injured by whom? By my client. Injured how? By procuring this note, the subject matter of this suit, from him. Now, Sir, I wish to swear the afflicted daughters of the plaintiff, against the injured wife of the defendant.'

Here my fair witnesses commenced to weep bitterly, while several of the jury looked on, with evident commiseration. My triumph was complete; but I determined to pay off my legal friend in his own coin.

'I do not seek, Sir,' continued I, 'to take up the time of this court and jury, by administering the oath to all these witnesses. I am afraid their heart-rending description of this nefarious transaction, (of which, be it remembered, they did not know a syllable,) would unman us all; and your honor and this intelligent jury would be tempted to inflict summary justice upon the base wretch, who, with a heart like Caligula, and a spirit like Nero, could attempt to doom to a life of beggary, of shame, and perhaps of infamy, the beautiful offspring of my unhappy, my too credulous, too confiding client. Sir, in the spirit of a liberal compromise, I will swear but three of them.'

Here there ensued a new burst of anguish from the daughters, and a corresponding and prolonged excitement of the jury. My legal friend saw that I had out-generalled him, and so he said: Cstop your nonsense, and take your verdict!' Of course, I did so ; but to show my knowledge of jury nature, I add, that as the foreman passed me, he said: 'I am rejoiced that you have gained your suit, but before you offered to swear those witnesses, your case was a very black one!'

THE BALD EAGLE.

THY place is in the heavens! The fiery sun
Is as a brother to thee! Thou alone
Of all earth's things, can gaze upon his face,
Unblinded by his glory!

SAIL on, proud bird, sail on!
On the pinions of the wind;
Nor from thy height look down

On the world thou leav'st behind.
Thou hast left the waving wood,
Where thy cry spread fear around;
Thou hast left the solitude,

That ne'er heard another sound:

And the fresh and flowery plains,
And the gently rippling spring,
And the dear though wild domains,
Where first thou tried'st thy wing.
Yet on, proud bird, sail on!

Unheeding rock or nest;
Though from them all thou 'rt gone,
Mourn not; thy place is best!

By the stream where thou hast quaffed,
In the plains where thou lov'dst to be,
The hunter's deadly shaft

Might have found its way to thee:
But now thou art rising high,

Thou hast left, thou hast left them all;

And thou fear'st not, in the sky,

An earthly shaft or thrall.

Yet wherefore dost thou turn
Again, and gaze thus back?
On, where the sun-beams burn!
Ón, in their glorious track!
And wherefore dost thou rest
Thus on thy mighty wing?
Why look back to thy nest,

With such fond lingering?

It hath precious ties for thee,

That can tempt thee back again;
Though thou know'st the earth must be
But a scene of fear and pain.
Sail on, proud bird, from earth!
Wilt thou not 'scape the snare?
Ah! freedom were little worth,

That thy loved ones could not share!

"T is thus with the parting soul,
When it looks with hope above;
When it breaks the earth's control,
And every bond, save love.
Though it knows it shall be free,
In heaven, from deeds unkind,
Still looks it lingeringly

To the world it leaves behind!