CLXXVI. THE WORLD FOR SALE.

The world for sale! Hang out the sign;
Call every traveler here to me;
Who'll buy this brave estate of mine,
And set me from earth's bondage free?
'Tis going!—yes, I mean to fling
The bauble from my soul away;
I'll sell it, whatsoe'er it bring;-
The World at auction here to-day!

It is a glorious thing to see;

Ah, it has cheated me so sore!
It is not what it seems to be:

For sale! It shall be mine no more:
Come, turn it o'er and view it well;
I would not have you purchase dear;
'Tis going-going! I must sell!

Who bids! Who'll buy the Splendid Tear!

Here's Wealth in glittering heaps of gold,
Who bids! but let me tell you fair,
A baser lot was never sold;

Who'll buy the heavy heaps of care!
And here, spread out in broad domain,
A goodly landscape all may trace;
Hall, cottage, tree, field, hill, and plain;
Who'll buy himself a Burial Place!

Here's Love, the dreamy potent spell
That Beauty flings around the heart!
I know its power, alas, too well!

'Tis going! Love and I must part!
Must part! What can I more with Love!
All over the enchanter's reign!
Who'll buy the plumeless, dying dove,
An hour of bliss,—an age of Pain!

And Friendship,-rârest gem of earth,
(Whoe'er hath found the jewel his?)
Frail, fickle, false, and little worth,

Who bids for Friendship-as it is! 'Tis going, going!-Hear the call; Once, twice, and thrice !—'Tis very low! "Twas once my hope, my stay, my all, But now the broken staff must go!

Fame! hold the brilliant meteor high;
How dazzling every gilded name!
Ye millions, now's the time to buy!

How much for Fame! How much for Fame!
Hear how it thunders! would you stand
On high "Olympus, far renowned,
Now purchase, and a world command!—
And be with a world's curses crowned!

Sweet star of Hope! with ray to shine
In every sad foreboding breast,
Save this desponding one of mine,—

Who bids for man's last friend and best!
Ah! were not mine a bankrupt life,

This treasure should my soul sustain;
But Hope and I are now at strife,
Nor ever may unite again.

And Song!-For sale my tuneless lute;
Sweet solace, mine no more to hold;
The chords that charmed my soul are mute,
I cannot wake the notes of old!

Or e'en were mine a wizard shell,

Could chain a world in raptures high;
Yet now a sad farewell!-farewell!
Must on its last faint echoes die.

Ambition, Fashion, Show, and Pride,
I part from all for ever now;
Grief in an overwhelming tide,
Ilas taught my haughty heart to bow.
Poor heart! distracted, ah! so long,
And still its aching throb to bear;
How broken, that was once so strong;
How heavy, once so free from care.

Ah, cheating earth!-could man but know,
Sad soul of mine, what thou and I,
The bud would never wish to blow
The nestling never long to fly,
Perfuming the regardless air;
High soaring into empty space;
A blossom ripening to despair,

A flight-without a resting-place!

No more for me life's fitful dream;
Bright vision, vanishing away!

My bark requires a deeper stream:
My sinking soul a surer stay.
By Death, stern sheriff! all bereft,
I
weep, yet humbly kiss the rod;
The best of all I still have left,-

My Faith, my Bible, and my God.

REV. R. HOYT.

CLXXVII. THE JUST JUDGE.

The

A GENTLEMAN, who possessed an estate worth about five hundred pounds a year, in the eastern part of England, had two sons. eldest, being of a rambling disposition, went abroad. After several years, his father died; when the younger son, destroying his will, seized upon the estate. He gave out that his elder brother was dead, and bribed false witnesses to attest the truth of it. In the course of time, the elder brother returned; but came home in miserable circumstances. His younger brother repulsed him with scorn; telling him he was an impostor and a cheat. He asserted that his real brother was dead long ago, and he could bring witnesses to prove it.

The poor fellow, having neither money nor friends, was in a most dismal situation. He went round the parish making complaints, and, at last, to a lawyer, who, when he had heard the poor man's story, replied, "You have nothing to give me. If I undertake your cause and lose it, it will bring me into disgrace, as all the wealth and evidence are on your brother's side. However, I will undertake your cause on this condition; you shall enter into an obligation to pay me one thousand guineas, if I gain the estate for you: if I lose it, I know the consequences, and I venture with my eyes open." Accordingly, he entered an action against the younger brother, which was to be tried at the next general assizes at Chelmsford, in Essex.

The lawyer having engaged in the cause of the young man, and stimulated by the prospect of a thousand guineas. set his wits to work to contrive the best method to gain his end. At last, he hit upon this happy thought: that he would consult the first judge of his age, Lord Chief Justice Hale. Accordingly, he hastened up to London, and laid open the cause, and all its circumstances. The judge, who was a great lover of justice, heard the case attentively, and promised him all assistance in his power. The lawyer having taken leave, the judge arranged his business so as to be at Chelmsford before the assizes begun.

When arrived within a short distance of the place, he dismissed his attendants, and entered a lonely house. He found it occupied by

a miller. After some conversation, he proposed to the miller to change clothes with him. As the judge had a very good suit on, he readily assented. Accordingly, the judge clothed himself from top to toe with the miller's best. Thus prepared, away he marched to Chelmsford, and procured good lodgings. The next day, when the trial came on, he walked, like an ignorant country fellow, backward and forward along the county hall. He had a thousand eyes within him; and when the court began to fill, he found out the poor fellow who was the plaintiff. As soon as he came into the hall, the miller drew up to him: Honest friend," said he, "how is your cause like to go to-day?" "Why," replied the plaintiff, "my cause is in a very Oprecarious situation, and if I lose it I am ruined for life." 'Well, honest friend," said the miller, "will you take my advice? I will

let you into a secret, which, perhaps, you do not know; every

Englishman has the right and privilege to except against any one juryman through the whole twelve. Now do you insist upon your privilege, without giving the reason why; and, if possible, get me chosen in his room; and I will do you all the service in my power." Accordingly, when the clerk had called over the names of the jury. men, the plaintiff excepted to one of them. The judge on the bench was highly offended with this liberty. "What do you mean," said he, by excepting against that gentleman ?" "I mean, my lord, to assert my privilege as an Englishman, without giving a reason why."

The judge, who had been highly bribed, in order to conceal it by a show of candor, and having a confidence in the superiority of his party, said, "Well, sir, as you claim your privilege in one instance, I will grant it. Whom would you wish to have in the room of that man excepted?" After a short time taken in consideration, "Sir," says he, "I wish to have an honest man chosen in ;" and looking around the court he said, "There is that miller in the court, we will have him, if you please." Accordingly, the miller was chosen in. As soon as the clerk of the court had given them all their oaths, a dexterous little fellow came into the apartment, and slipped ten guineas into the hands of eleven jurymen, and gave the miller but five. He observed that they were all bribed as well as himself, and said to his next neighbor, in a soft whisper, "How many have you got?" "Ten pieces," said he. But he concealed what he had got himself. The cause was opened by the plaintiff's counsel, and the scraps of evidence they could pick up were adduced in his favor. The younger brother was provided with a great number of witnesses and pleaders, all plentifully bribed as well as the judge. The evidence deposed that they were in the self-same country, when the brother died, and saw him buried. The counselors pleaded upon this accumulated evidence, and everything went with a full tide in favor of the

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younger brother. The judge summed up the evidence with great gravity and deliberation. "And now, gentlemen of the jury," said he, "lay your heads together, and bring in your verdict, as you shall deem most just." They waited but a few minutes, before they determined in favor of the younger brother. The judge said, "Gentlemen, are you agreed, and who shall speak for you?” We are all agreed, may it please your honor,” replied one; our foreman shall speak for us." 'Hold!" replied the miller, "we are not all agreed." "Why?" said the judge, in a very surly manner, "what's the matter with you? What reasons have you for disagreeing?" "I have several reasons," said the miller; "the first is, they have given to all these gentlemen of the jury ten broad pieces of gold, and to me but five; which, you know, is not fair. Besides, I have many objections to make to the false reasonings of the pleaders, and the contradictory evidence of the witnesses." Upon this the miller began a discourse, which discovered such vast penetration of judgment, such extensive knowledge of the law, and was expressed with such energetic and manly eloquence, that astonished the judge and the whole court. As he was going on with his powerful demonstrations, the judge, in a surprise of soul, stopped him.

"Where did you come from, and who are you?" "I came from Westminster Hall," replied the miller; "and my name is Matthew Hale. I am Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench. I have observed the iniquity of your proceedings this day; therefore come down from a seat which you are no way worthy to hold. You are one of the corrupt parties in this iniq'uitous business. I will come up this moment and try the cause all over again." Accordingly, Sir Matthew went up with his miller's hat and dress on, began the trial from the very commencement, and searched every circumstance of truth and falsehood. He proved the elder brother's title to the estate, from the contradictory evidence of the witnesses and the false reasonings of the pleaders; unraveled all their sophistry to the very bottom, and gained a complete victory in favor of truth and justice.

JUV, COMPANION.

CLXXVIII. INTERMENT OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

BURY the Great Duke

With an empire's lamentation,

Let us bury the Great Duke

To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation,

Mourning when their leaders fall,

Warriors carry the warrior's pall,

And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.