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Some Sev^nieenlti Centuf| Matrons AND THEIR HOUSEKEEPING. There Is a pathetic interest in watch- i»« the swift course of a great river jaat above a fall. The steady flow of the mass of deep, clear water U aa im- age of calm and controlled strength; and yet we know â€" what the river does notâ€" that this orderly progress ia short- ly to be changed for a mad plunge over rough roclcs, and that the river itaelf will soon be a mere boiling maaa of foam and bubbles and cnnfuaed eddies, afyparently aunleas in its passion and strength, till it finds a. fresh bed, and flo;<3 on again at a, different level. Something of this feeling possesses us when we read the annals of English homes in the early part of the seven- teenth century. The great days of Elizabeth still form the background of the picture, and the younger genera- tion, for whom Vandyke painted and Love!tic« sani?. have an air of di^^nified ea^e and leisure which is very attrac- tive. The Puritan, with his sour looks and croppe<l hair, is still only a butt for ridicule, not to 1)6 taken seriously by people of culture, and the political lealot may safely be left to the tender mercies of the Star Chamber. The sataract of the Great Rebellion is still Mit of sight and hearing. Such a stately an<i gracious figure is the Lady of Berkeley. Jajxe, daughter i>f Sir Michael Stanhope, and wife of Henry, Baron Berkeley of Berkeley, Uobray, Segrave, and Breuse ofGower. md lord of many fair castles a.Dd majiors in the West. The Lords of Berkeley, through all tlieir long line, were said to have been fortunate in their wivtvi ; and the mis- tresses of Berkeley Castle had been distinguished for their "skill in house- wifely coursee," their careful overlook- ing of "dairy affairs" and of the "accompts of their husbands' manors and household officers," and tor their hunting, hawking, and general out-of- door activities. Indeed, some of them more than justified the old proverb in the county of Uloui^ester : â€" An the guodmon aays. so it should bee; But a.s the good wife says, so it must bee. There were household traditions of a Lady of Berkeley in the early four- teenth century who, feeling in "her elder years" that she was growing "weake and sickly." took the most energetic measures to preserve her vigor. Part of her "Physicke for her better health was thesawiage of billets and sticks, for which cause shee bad before her death yearly brought cer- taine fine handsawes, which she used in her chamber, which commonly cost ijd a piece." Lady Jane's mother-in-law was as masterful as Queen Bess herself, "over- powerful with her husband, and seldom at rest with ht^rself ... of Complex- ion of a c(jmely brown, of a middle stature. Betimes in winter and sum- mer mornings she would make her walks to visit her stables, barns, day- house, poultry, swine-t roughs, and the like." Lord Berkeley's first wife. Lady Katherlne Howard, not so notable a houM;wife, was inclined to ">>etake herself to the delights of youth and greatness". She was an adept with her crossbow, and was ">o<' good an Archer at butts with the Longbow, as her side by her was never the weaker." She Oiccompanietl her lord on hia hunting Journeys, and "kept commonly a cast or two of merlins mewed in her own chamber," to the great detriment, as her maidens lamented, of "her gownee and kirlles." Lady Katherlne ilied in 1596. and two years later Lord Berkeley married Jane Stanhope. She did not share in her predecessor's sporting tastes, and ut once, in gracious and womanly way.s, set to work to put her house and household in order. That this was no slight task may be seen by the size of the household .â- *he ruled over. When the Lord of Berkeley moved from one of his castles to another, accom- panied by his ladjr. "he was seldom or never attended with fewer than one hundred anil fiftj servanLs in their lawny cloth coats in summer, with the badge of the while Lyon rampant embroidered on the left sleeve, and in coat.s of white frieze lined with crimson taffety in the winter . . . amongst whom many were Gentlemen and Ksquires of reiqarkable families and de»ent, and of alliance to the house of Berkeley." Kor the conduct of these esquires and psiges. who are under the control of the "Gentleman I'sher in waiting." the Lady of Berkeley draws up full and minute directions. The laws for the whole household she has fuljy entered in the "Yeomaji's book." which she expects her gentlemen to observe "without any breach or con- tempt of them;" but she t hlnks good to five ihem some specLal rules that, by heir "obe<lienc6. well-liehaviour and tractablejieae," they may "proiurc the meaner sort of my servaut.s in calling to amend their faults by their good examples." WlK>n the yeomen of the chambers have done their work, the gentlemen usher is to go round, at eight o'clock in winter and seven o'clock in summer, or "if strangers be there, then at more early hours," and see that all things in the dining and withdrawing chambers â- xe in fair order and "well set up, according to his lady's former direc- tions set down." The rooms are to be always ready for the entertainment of strangers ; he is to see that the great fires of oak logs are burning brightly in winter and summer; that "the chim- neys are trimmed with green boughs and the windows with herbs and sweet flowers, .and the chamber strowed with Jrreen rushes." There are minute rules or the attendance of "the gentleman tieher and the rest of my gentlemen when I shall walk any wa^ out of the park, OiS into the fields or any of my 1 outward grounds, further, when I ilo walk in the piirk then I do license the gentlemen either walke bowl, shoote, ttr any other pastiutt?, where 1 walk in this order. It I do walk in the high i walk, then thoy ma^ be in the lower walk ; it I do >vn.lk tn the lower walk, 1 then they maj be in the upper." When : niy laily walks in "the greate garden," she gives gracious Iic<>.nse to the gentle- men to be m another psirt of it, whether she has at rangers with her or not. Lady Jane is minutely solicitous adoui the comfort of guests in their I own chamlxTS, and her anxiety that breiikfiifit should be served punctually to the moment they have a&ke«l for It is worthy of railroad days. A "gentle- man of calling" must be attended from his lied-chamber to the dining-room when tueaU are served, and there is much ceremonious etiquette of leave- tjikmg when the guests' ruling-horses are brought round to the hall door. Some oC Lady Jane's decrees, as re- gards attendance upon her walks and suchlike, are not, she says, "express commandments," but rather the inti- mation of her wishes; but the reiilly I serious duties ot the day culminate in the dining-hall. No trifling or negli- gence can be allowed during the august ceremonial of dinner and supper â€" the "commandment" hire is absolute: ">ly plejLsure Ls that the gentleman usher and ijie rest of my gentlemen shall, with Hue reverence and great tliligence, wholly give their attendance to wait upon ue, and none for those times to that must all our mene done, or ells it she can find fait with ; you want a will coste Fanny more in Barbing then wit, you .« what inconvenanceu that we give for wages in a yeare ; and if he [ want brings you for your company is had nevor come hither you mite sooner not considerabell. a nustrea wold kepe a had him. for Pauu usee to groe so hur thare for ever. . . . She is much fonde of all his mene as much adooe I alon and she hus good parts, and louts have to make him tochange, all though conversacion, as ail we wemien dew, 1 thay be nevore such fooles as Dimoike find the wagis do ras hur trinds, but i was. I inquired after my cosan Will: ' told hur 1 beleve your plas would be no Uormor's Butler for you. but he was j ill plas nor has bin. Now the woman gone into france. Suih a one as he was | spe<iks with a hy valew oi you and would asarved anyone's torne, so nete | cannot tell wen to leve you. but thay a man; and with one copeof beare. as I answer all she can say with the hyist thay suy, woulit a doone his master more cre<leie then many a one with Bottles of wine," "Panny can goe without leading," "Jugge" wTites a little later. "Now I am very charfull. hopinge he Is on the mending hande, and the more liei-ause the Nal)ores heare al)outes thinke a good parte of his sickness is malan- choley, and so hee thinke hLmselfe; and some neare nal)ores come moste days to mac him mery. and yett the Lose of go to rest themselves in other places bis eies goes so to his harte .is he cannot . and noL to go to any bye place to eat meat in corners, nor to take nor give away any meat . . . but to give goml at tendance till they go all together to take their diversion. And therein all to behave themselves civilly like gentle- men ... to use no playmg fence nor disorderly pastimes in the hall which 'aused great disorder and gives cause of offence by the great noise that comes by that means." It is a consolation to feel that the great lady who ruled her family so well passed away before the evil times, and that the "gentleman usher and the rest of my geatlemen" had full leisure to carry out in detail the stately funeral rites which had lieen accorded to her predecessors. No longer, as of old, did "priests with their crosses, and friars white and grey." stream up to Berkeley Castle from the neighboring churi-hes and monasteries ; but it was still need- ful to feast all the country-siile "with ale and comfets, red wine and claret." The weary steward could thank God at the end of the day that no spoons were lost, though twenty dozen were used ; and that hia lady had been fitly buried. While the Lady of Berkeley's ordi- nances impress us with all the solem- nity of an old-ivorld minuet, the letters written after the Civil War are quite mo<lern in spiritâ€" full of the reality born of conflict, poverty, and suffering. The gentleman usher and his train ot attendant gentlemen, the waiting gen- tlewoman and her maidens, have Iwen confounded with their masters and mistresses in a common calamity, much to the eventual gtiin of both. When Church and King were struggling in Ije mery. and beside apaineof his heade troblea him tow bade." He can hardly have Ixsen a very _ pleasant companion ; he looks "very j Knite, thay will not go aside. Thare ofers can bt, how ever if she lie tur youn turn kep hur." She remained on another year, but left Claydon in the spring ot Itilii. " In my openyone," his sister, Lady Elmes, writes (who was not inclined to be lavish in rewarding service done to herself), " you ware much moare bowntiCul to Mrs. Westor- holt then you needed to a benn ; my iui(«ll Dr. and I say one quorter of it had been very well, consedoring up one , what a count she left you." All Sir ' Ralph's lady friends are hunting tor housekeepers: Aunt Isham says, ' 'tis i haxde to mete with them." " IJE your i Sarvants walk according to thare yalleo," and is so drowsy that his wife tears that "this may bringe him tothe slepey desese. tor he slepes much, and thinkee as he doth not .slepe att all." His naps gradually extended to twenty- two hours out of the twenty-four. Perhaps Wood's monotonous voice acte<l as a sedative for Jlrs. Isham is obliged to confesB that the man who was so good a borljer "is the worse Reader as ever you harde. as I am faine to hear him reed Psalmts and Chapters, and when Mr. Pan is well we shall got a Play Booke for him as he may Larne to ree<l that." The servant finds it as painful an exertion to reail the PsvIIms as she does to listen ; "when we had him a weecke or thare alwute. he sayd he had not Ilee<l so much in seven yeares before as in that weecke, and that was not much; not past the day of the month, and .i chapter in a day : he is a very willing muu in a House and sivell, and that plea.ses me." I'heir neighlx)r Lady Wenman invites them to Thame Park, and Mrs. Isham would like to accept, if she can stir up her invalid to go out ; l>ut he is grown so melancholy ne cannot lie left alone . . . "and Luckes so slovenly as none of my cosan's mene will Lie with him, and to have him abroade with me I am ashamed." The precedence due to guests, which the gentleman u&her at I^rkeley Castle was expected to have at his fingers' ends, had become very <-omplicated under the Commonwealth. There were the rapids. Etiquette could hardly hope! peers, created by the king over the to kevp her footing; but periods of water, not recognized at home; there transition are painful. The change of tone strikes us in the letters of Slistress Elizabeth Isham, written about the middle ot the cen- tury. She was the wife of Thomas, son of Sir Euseby Isham. Her bus- Ijojid's fcunily. the Ishams ot Lamport and Pytchlev. in Northiunptonshire, had suffered bitterly from fines .and im- i prtsonment. Her own rehiiions, the Dentons, a wealthy and distinguished county family ol Bia-kinghamsbire. bad were the memters, not peers, of Crom- well's I'pper House, and titles ot his Granting which the Roya lists sniffed at. Irs. Isham writes feelingly of the trials of hostesses when etiquette was reviv- ing a little; neighbors are "so dis- coutente*! alx>ule you f<ir Plase as thay be nevor to be reconciled againe ; this is a thiuge I doe much hate. Any one shall goe before me as will, and iff Sir Harry Blunte axed Uurroles (Heralds) before he came downo, my Thinkes fared' even "worse. ifillesden House] 1>«U» i« so many buriells aboute, as the home of her childhood, had been I ?°°* shoulge thinke of PUse. ' She liesieged and burnt to the ground; her brother. Sir Alexander Denton, died in the Tower ; her trusted friend and brother-in-law. Sir Edmund Verney, was killed at Edgehill. and her own fortune had melted away. How bravely Elizabeth l>?ham carried her- self in poverty and in bereavement, her letters to her nephew, Sir Ralph Ver- ney. testify. In the uns«ttle<l timee when friends IS very proud of a new page. "You be to see t he fust of m.v small ofieer. I thinke itt may be a prety site to see him a Horse-bocke ami in Boots, for since he nevor hiul Boots on Ijetore ; be is to call at Lee for a leter. so he is not to stay longe with you. This Boy as we have Is good for nothing but his Boots, anil that pleases Pannye, and so because he is pleased I am pleased . . . you will be a w eary with wrote loeach other in cipher, EIizal>ethi '"•'^'mg these sc-ribled Lines, .solreste and Thomas Isham were distinguished >""'' «ver Lovmge .Ante, E. Isham in the letters written to their relations in ej.ile as "Jugge and Pann." homely names pertaining rather to the kitchen than the parlor, nut which continue*! in fumilUr use long after the need for concealment ha<l iwssed away. Thomas Isham was an ardent Royal- ist, as befitted his name; he bud com- pounded, and after the biirniug down of their home at iiadclive, he and his wife settled themselves in a house belonging to Sir J. 'Tipping, at Wheat- field, in Oxford-hire. He was gradually losing his eyesight, and became more and more depreoaeil iis he grew more deiieudent. Mrs. Isham ^ writes in 16.)7: "Fanny's eies be still worse and wors<>. now he cannot see toreede. whh'h is a greate grete to him ... He hath sent* up to by him acoach to travel aboute in ; I would not a had him buy one till nexe sommore, but these Hus- Ixmdfl must have thare wills, the old sainge is thay will Live the Longer. If Panuy would be ruled by me, we would nevor sture out of this cuntrey, till we come to be Bearyed in your contrey or these People a wary ot us." "My buslxuid is very weike." she She writes to Sir Ralph the next autumn for "some Spanishe Broome see<ls or any t hinge of that as will growe, to sett umler my windore to teepe the slinkes a>vay . . . and to send worde when the seeds shouige be soed, as I may doe itt caicordiniy." Aunt Isham stUl suffered from a "Rosy Face" and indigestion. Sir Ralph, a man of austere tastes, was living upon a diet ot hoxd biscuites ; but when he impuseil this self-denying ordinance upon the old ladv. It was more effective in extracting her teeth than in curing her ailments. (Nov. Iti, 16()1): "Sir Ralph. " she writes, "Now I leve all the I)rs. to t;ike yoxir Phisik. which is the Shepe Bisket, 2 teeth I Lefte at Uilsdon. and almost all my Bones was to be left tltire, for every time Iwente to Church 1 was sicke and some time swoned quite away, but now I am well att Lee, only another tooth Loose and all my Gomes so tender as nolhing<> I can eale but what is minced, so I in I reate you to send me noe more ot the bisket then must be taken in one weeke, for I shall lie .i weary to lake I itt longer, and now you must be att one some- I Charge more with me, that Is a penny tis an ill time much adoe to writes the following spring. times 1 thinke he will live, but he 15 | grateT t J'grate itt". . more lukely to die 3 ths I had. fori »i,h ^^ » . ,1 h^ve mucn adoe to him laste triday. and he not bemge sicke k^pe i^e biskit t-om the mise, thare they can not tell what to say to him: t^,"^ ,^ ^^^„ (^^^ ^j ., gj^^ ^^^ ^ l.hey imt me in hopes of huu. and this far more .i^re«ahle nr«»-rintion for Sir she (June 22. 16()2) was a grave ma.vde as was with Mrs. { Goode, as could doe any t hinge as for j tine Parsarves, rase yeast, in uie Dairy, 1 in the Kiching,and more than you have to put her to, and very saving beside and carfuil. She was not to be bad last ye&r, and should a ctme to my Nese Dormer, but she would give her but £6 , and she would have £10, . . she sites ; in the Halle." Sir Ralph is in corre- spondence with Stephen Windress, at SulKm, about Mrs. Smithby. another applicant. " Sir, I have known hir this 4 years and upwards. . . . hir carriag was very modest and sober, both at home and abroad, of which I have often been an eye-witnesse, and as to hir | houswifry it was enough for such a hous as Mr. Godfreys, a farmer, and i uon oi; Lhe ablest nether, but Sir 1 very I much question whether her houswifry, 1 Carraig, or any other parts l)e such as ' may make hir capabi ot your service, j Sir give me leave to tell your worshipp in playn learmes that in my Judgment she is not. " Mrs. Isham recommends a certain '" Marget Chile,'" whose charac- ter she sends to Sir Ralph in her own delightful style : " She hath bine used too onlej my Lady Tippinge's Hous these lU yeares, goeing and cominge, and att pr«sentu she is in the House and hath bine heare now ever since. Whit- suntide, and staye<l upon the accounie of her selte and her childrena being sicke, which she is good att to tende, and is against her will to goe to be maxied as her Father will have her, but if she can perswade her father as she had leather goe to sarvis, the Lady Tippinge thinkes her fit tor such a plase ; she is a very sivill mayd and hath a greate dele of wite. and does nuHt tbinges aboute a House, ajid Passible she is incase her Gloves be on, but her hansomenes is not whate itt was, for once she was very pretty." Eventually a Mistress Frances Buck- ley succeeds to MLrs. Weslerholt's responsibilities, and at once sets to work to replenish Sir Ralph's shirts, which were reduced to three. He sends her dou'n the materials from London. " The needles are well, and the thread very good if it were a litell finer." She wishes to employ a town cousm ot her own to choose the stores, who has been used to buy much for the queen. Mrs. Buckley is great at household physic, and makes triends with tho rector's wife, Mrs. Buttertield, by compaj-ing their symptoms. She ia^busy with her preserves, her elder-flower " vinigar," and rock candy ; anil hopes to get "some Rose Watert it it be but a glass or two," when the weather is dry. " Jugge's " service to her relations are not confined to chousing servants for j them ; she feels within herself a genius for match-making, .ind whether there ' is an hein'ss Id be secured for on eldest .son. or a living to Ix- got for a younger one, she proclaims herself " a well wish- er to all the yonge sparkes." It is with something of a shock that we learn that the trail and sickly hus- band, who " in his deep melancholy " could scarcely be kept from suicide, survived by several years his ciieerful and capable helpmeet. She lived long enough to see her high- est hopes fulfilled in the Restoration, and not long enough to see how futile those hopes bad b^n. She is burieil with ber own relations in the beautiful church at Hillesden. A long and .affectionate euitaph marks her resting-place. " Pia Mater I certa Arnica 1 optima Conjux I" â-  â-  u - r. -or. 9S """•'"'" '°',^ far more agreeaWe prescription for Si day I hey give hmi_Phi«.cke»o gentell r^,^ "iToulu wt^h you heare,"" sh as a chiia may take itt, so 1 hope itt ^^^^ from Wheatfield (June 22, 16()2) may doe him good ; they be the lieste Dra. in Oxford, so I wtshe they may have gaud Locke wit h him . . . he is not sicke att all, but noe Blode in his Lipes and very shorte winded ; the 'as you might drink some ot the Sider as is heare aboute us, itt tis ao good : and your Sider was madetosoonc to be good, for ajiy sortes of Aplee will be good togeai her so thay Lie awhile Lorde lie his comforter.' Panny' is so Before v«i tn-ika itt in too Sider for fn.. h,.Ho.- „ fx..., ,iov.„ lofo- thar " h^ :<i "e*"â„¢ you mfl-KO iti m too iMoer, lor the best Sider is made but just before far better a few days later that "he is come to socke a Bone of a sucking Rat. tt." Mrs. Isham suffered from an eruption on the skin, tor which Sir Ralph Verney sends her a home-made lotion, with the following directions. (March ti, 1658): '"Apply this to your face every night after you are in bed . . .let it lie on all night, and wipe it gently off in the morning with a piece of store new Black Cloth, but wash not your face. If you see roe company for a day or two, or three, it is lietter, for then you xnay lay it on fretih in the morning, and let it continue on all da.v and wipe it gently oft at night againe with the Black ('loath ... I had almost forgot to tell you, you must not lay it on cleare, but sb^ke it very well togeather, till tie as thick as caudle, then power out a little quickly into this china box, and, lying on your back, take a piece of spungo. pat it uppon your Face thick ajid thin togeather ... if you like it you may have as much of it as you please at a Weekes Warning."' When it arrives she is too busy with her hu6bajid"B ailments to attend to her own . . . "If m^y dear Panny is well I shall soon make use of itt. I doe but thinke with my Blake fnse and the Blake cloth what a Blakemor I shall be."" Blindness had perchance its com- pensation tor her husband. The question of servants consequently comes up. Sir Ralph iisks whether they have a man to recommend. "I thinke in time Woods may make a, good sarvisable sarvant," Mrs. Isham replies, "becase h» hath tamedtobarbeollredy. Crismas after Ine Apies hath had a Sweet." She has tried fisses' milk, and sends her ass on to Lord Wenman, who U sick. Mixe.! up with her household "" "-.<"-"'""«" """« lore are dark allusiims toihe fau- ladies pe.will doubtless have as large.a col that Sir Ralph might woo, and will not. CLOTHES OF A PRINCE. Pri«e« WaleH fnyx fur HI and iThal Be> ronii'H 4ir Tlieiu. The Prince of Wales always orders eight suits at a time, and they are paid for at the uniform price of $40, says -the Argonaut. His trouser<«, too, always cost a uniform priraâ€" 312 a pair. This rule., however, does not apply to uniforms and his dress .suiU. of which latter he usee twelve in a year, at a cost of f 80 each. The Prince never wears a pair of trousers more than four times, and, as bis discarded clothes are not among the perquisites of his valet, there is a stock ot thousands of them at Marlborough House. At his death CEfflE Df MIS OF MOSES UST OF CURIOUS TEXTS WORTHY OF PRESEHVATION. CaplljU Exrcstlon* Ksre, aad ClreuM* ktantlal Eviaenee .\'ever AdstUtcd AsalBnl PrlMtnen. Two weeks ago a clergyman in a near-by city preached an eloquent ser- mon favoring capital punishment, "be- cause," he said, "it is according to the law of Muses, and should be favored by every Christian." What is the law of Muses in relation to this question? We doubt if it is generally approved, for it contemplates nearly 30 distinct of- fensei as capital crimes, but lew of which are capitally punished in any country to-day. Ten are mentioned in Exodus aa follows: Murder, xxi., 12 ; kidnapping, xxi., id; eating leavened bread during the Passover, xii., 15 • suffering an unruly ox to be at Liberty if he kill a person, xii., 2» ; witchcraft, xxii.. 18 ; idolatry, xxii., 20 ; oppression of widow and fa- therless, xzii., 20 ; compounding holy ointment or putting it upon any Strang* er, XXX., 33; violation of the Sabbath, xxxi., U ; smiting father or mother, xxi., 13. Nine are set forth in Lcvitcus, in the texts indicated : Eating the flesh ot the sacrifice of peace offerings with uucleanness, vii., 20 ; eating the fat ot offered beasts, vii., 25 ; eating any man- ner of blood, vii., 27 ; ottering children to Moloch, XX., 2 ; eating a sacrifice at peace offering, xix., B ; screening the idoiator, xx., 4 ; going after famiUax spirits and wizards, xx.. 6 ; adultery, XX., 10; blasphemy, xxiv., IB. Six are found m texts from Num- bers: Strangers cuuiint; uear the taii- ernacle, i., ji ; coming near tho priest"* office, iii.. lu ; usurping saceruoial f uno- tions, iv., 20; torbearmg 1^ keep Pass- over, ix., 13 ; presumption, or despising the word of tue Lord, xv., 30; deiiiuig the sanctuary of the Lord, xix., 13. And in Deuteronomy there are three denunciations: i-aiae pi-eteuse^ «> the character of a divine messenger, xii., 5 ; opposition to the decrees of ibe high- est judicial authority, xviii., 12; im- chastiiy, xxii., 13. Still other offenses were pronounced capital in the Mosaic code, but they do nut remain such, and some are not even criminal under modern legisla- tion. HOW TRIALS WERE ORDEUKD. Above texts were submitted to a reverend doctor and his opinion request- ed. His reply is simply an explanation of the method of procedure under those ancient laws, and is to the fol- lowing effect: For the trial of all capital offenses not less than 23 Juilges wei-e necessaxy, which number might ue augmented to 71. Evidence by means of interpreters not being allowed, a knowledge of all living languages was a necessary qualiXicatiou in the .ludges in order that they themselves might examine and cross-quest lou wuiiua.'jes and insreT by be the belter enabled to elicit and Judge of the truth. Circuuistautial evidence, however, strongly corroborated, ^vas in no wisrt received. At least two witnesses of irreproach- able character, and who must have warned the accused of the consequences attendant upon the crime, were in all cases necessary for conviction. RULiiS OF PRtK'EDURE. It was the imperative duty of the senior Jud^e to point out lu'the wit- nesses in the strongest terms the gre*t value of the life of a human being created in tiie image of Go<l, and to dwell strongly upon the a^tul punish- ment that awaitetl theiu should they by false testimony be instrumental in sheddin,; innocent blix>d. A majority of one witness sufficed tor acquittal, whexeos It required a ma- jority of two for conviction. So rare was the execution ot a crim- inal, when Isniol was governed by her own laws, that if one only took place during 70 years the Judges were said to have been murderers. Each Judge on the delivery of hia opinion hud to show his reasons for the same. On an adjournment ot trial it waa permitted a Judge to reverse his opin- ion from guilty to not guilty, but the contrary, from not guilty to guilty, was not pennitted him. These points indicate that the ex- treme severity ot tho laws was most beueticieiitly tempoi-ed by mercy in the trials. "Our widdore is sate come downe againe, but to beare tho good andfinde Language the Earle gave her, as gave you the Hownde as you broatein your coach, would a made one in Love with him." Spite ot much good counsel. Sir Ralph Verney, continued a widower, and .4unt Isham and his other female relations gave him valuable advice about his household matters. One lady sends him directions for the washing of his pewter plates, which will bring out the stain ot any wuce, " except it bee pickled rabbits, which stand â-  up on the plait a pretty while, and soe they will stoaine them filthyly." 'The ladies" good offices were ealle<l into requisition when a domestic crisi.s occurre<l at Claydon, greatly affecting his comfort. His housekeeper, Mrs. Westerholt, was leaving i>uu. A year l^efore her allegl- ajice had been shaken by a person of quality. "' Mrs. W. has bin with me and acqiiiiintod me,"' writes Laily Ho- bart ," with my Lady St.inings' by of- lij^ era which sems strange she shold mack to another bodys sarvant. but she says she will not deu any thing to disples you. . . . i am loth \o\x .shold part with bur becAus she is aquanted with your ways; the lone* of the plas is all lection as did King George the Fourth, the auction of whose clothes extended through three weeks. All the Prince's clothes, old and newr, except his hats, which for some reason are kept at Sandringham. are stored at Marlborough House, in what are known as the "brushing rooms," where several men a,re kept busy looking after them. The uniforms and state robes alone at Marlborough House are insureil for 9'20,OUO, so tjat his entire wardrobe must represent a very com- fortable fortune. MEET IT ON THE AVAY. No use waitin' fer the wu^n, Loatin' life away ; Com needs hoein'; Keep a-goin'â€" M!eet tt on the way I No use waitin' f«r the wafon, Life is but a day ; "".me is lackiii'; Hay needs stackin' â€" - I\&et ill. on the way I No use waitin' fer the wa^^oa, Hair is growin' ^ray ; Storm winds hummin"; Night is comin'â€" Meet it ou the way I EXCITING HIDE AND SEEK. The Way a Pom-KIUer In Cape I'olssy ("ooled a Llou. .4n unpleasant experience with a lion in Cape Colony is narrated by Alice B. Balfour, who travelled many miles there and gathered native stories as she had opportunity. The horse of a certain post-rider had fallen sick and died by the way, and so, leaving it, he walked on. After some time he became a>vare that be was followed by a Hon, which stopped when be did, and went on when he started again, always keeping about the same distance l)ehind him. Evident- ly it meant to Wait imtil night, to spring upon him. A taw miles ahead, as he knew, there was a deep drift in the river, and on the opp<isite bank, higher up a farm. He went down to the drift out a large ant-heap between himseli and the lion, hastil ystuck his stick in the ground, and hung his hat on it, so that it should juat show above the top of tho ant-henp, and thanâ€" still keeping the mound between himself and the lionâ€" rushed down into tho wale*, where the bank concealed him. Then he hurried up-stream till he got to the farm. Next day, the ground round the ant- hill wns torn up in all directions, and the hat had been reduced to a pulp. PURE FICTION. Maud â€" Why did you call me Alice when you proposeil to me, Alfred? Did you ever know a girl hy that name f Alfredâ€" Only in a novel, dear. .'â-  ?.1