The true Democrat., 1856-03-11

uuCo "t Holne, anu nose Wncn we cannot, St without altogether. Try the experiment.. Il will cost little sclf-denial, and perhaps lit tie more money at first, but in the eud we vii be gathers by the speculation.
 
 Last days of Jeffreys, one of the
 Atrocious Judges.
 From the New Volunaes of Macatlzays Hsto~4
 of Engla'ad
 Among the many offenders whose names were mentioned in the course of these inquiries was one who stood alone and unapproached in guilt and infamy, and whom whigs and tories were equally willing to leave to the extreme ri- gor of the law On that terrible day which was succeeded by the Irish Night the roar of a great city disappointed of its revenge had fol- lowed Jeffreys to the drawbridge of the tower His imprisonment was not strictly legal; but he at first accepted with thanks and blessings the protection which those dark walls, made famous by so many crimes and sorrows, afforded him against the fury of the multitude. Soon, how. ever, he became sensible that his life was still In imminent peril.
 For time he flattered himself with the hope that writ of habeas corpus would liberate him from his confinement, and that he should be able to steal away to some foreign country, and to hide himself with part of his ll-gotten wealth from the detestlnation of mankind; but, till the government was settled, there was no court com petent to grant writ of habeas corpus; and as soon as the government had been settled, the haJeas corpus act was suspended Whether the legal guilt of murder could be brought home to Jetfreys may be doubted. But he was mo- rally guilty of so many marders that if there had been no other way of reaching his life, a retrospective act of attainder would have been clamorously demanded by the whole nation.- A disposition to triumph over the fallen has never been one of the beSetting sins of English men; but the hatred of which Jeffreys was the object was without paraIlelin our history, and partook but too largely of the savageness of his nature.
 The people, where he was concerned, were as cruel as himself, and eXuted in his misery as he had been accustomed to exult in the mi sery of convlcts listening to the sentence of death, and of families clad in mourning The rabble congregated before his deserted mansion in Duke street, and read on the door with shouts of laughter the bills which announced the sale of his property. Even the delicate women, who had tears for highwaymen and househreak CTS, breathed nothing bat vengeance against him. The lampoons on him which were hawked about the town were distinguished by an atrocitv rare even in those days. Hanging would be too mild death for him: grave under the gibbet too respectable a resting place; he ought to be tortured like an Indian; he ought to be devour- ed alive
 The street poets portioncd out all his joints with cannibal ierocty, and computed how many pounds of steak might be cut from his we'll fat tened carcas Nay, the rage of his enemies WAS such that in language seldom heard in England they proclaimed their wish that he might go to the place of wailins and gnashng of teeth, to the worm that never dies, to the fire that is ne- yer quenched They exborted him to hang himself in his garters, and to cut his throat with razor. They put up horrible prayers that lie might not be able to repent, that he might die the same hard hearted, wicked Jeffreys that he had lived. His spirit, as mean in diversity as insolent and inhuman in prosperity, sank down under the load of public abhorrence. His con- stitution, originally bad, and much impaired by intemperance, was completely broken by dis tresS and anxiety
 He was tormented by a cruel internal disease which the most skillfil surgeons of that age were seldom able to relieve. One solace wa: left to him-brandy Even when he had causes to try and councils to attend he bad seldom gone to bed sober. Now, when he had noth ing to occupy his mind, save terrible recol- lections and terrible forebodngs, he abandon- ed himself without reserve to his favortf vice. Many believed him to be bent on shor- tening his life by excess. lie thoughtit better they said, to go off in a drunken fit than to be hacked by Kctch, or torn limb from limb by the populace.
 Once he was reused from a state of abjec despordency by an agreeable sensation, speedi- ly followed by mortifying disappointment A parcel had been left for him at the tower- It appeared to be barrel of Colchester oys- ters, his favorlte dainties He was greatly nov ed; for there are moments when those who least deserve affection are pleased to think that they inspire it. "Thank God" he exclaimed, :" have still some friends left" He opened the barrel; and from among heap of shells out tumbed stout halter.
 It does not appear that one of the fatterers or buffoons whom he had enriched ont of the plunder of his victims came to comfort him r the day of trouble. But he was not left in ut ter solitude. John Tutchin, whom he had sen- tenced to be dogged every fortnight for sever years, made his way into the tower, and pre- sented himself before the fallen oppressor.- Poor Jetlreys humbled to the dust, behaved with abjact civility, and called for wine. "l am glad, sr,' he said to see you" "And am glad,' answered the resentlul whig, tC see your lordshp in this place." served my master,' said Jcffreys: was bound in con science to do so.' Where was your consc ence," said Tutchin, "when you passed tha sentence on me at Dorchester?'' Ut was se down in my instructions,' answered Jeffreys fawningly, that was to show no mercy to men like you, men of parts and courage Wher went back to court, was reprimanded for my lenity.'
 Even Tutchin, acrimonious as was his nature and great as were his wrongs, seems to have been little notified by the pitable spectacle which he had at first contemplated with vndic. tive pleasure. He always denied the truth O the report that he was the person who sent the Colchester barrel to the tower.
 more benevolent man, John Sharp, tht excellent Dean of Norwich, forced himself te visit the prisoner. It was a painful task, bu Sharp had been treated by Jeffreys, in ol( times, as kindly as it was in the nature of J ef freys to treat anybody, and had once or twice been able, by patiently waiting until the storn of curses and invectives had spent itself, anC by dexterously seiziDg the moment of gooc humor, to obtain for unhappy families some mitigation of their sufferings. The prsone was surprised and pleased. "What!" he said "dare you own me now?"
 It was in vain, however, that the amiable di vine tried to give sautary pain to that scared conscience. Jeffreys, instead of acknowledgin. his guilt, exclaimed vehemently against the in justice of mankind. People call me mur derer for doing what at the time was applaud ed by some who are now high in public favor They call me drunkard because take puncl to relieve me in my agony" He would no admit that, as president of the high comms sion, he had done anything that deserved re proach. His colleagues, he said, were the req criminal; and now they threw all the blame ol him. He spoke with peculiar asperitv of Sprat who had undoubtedly been the most human and moderate member of the board.
 It soon became clear that the wicked judg was fast sinking under the weight of bodily arc mental suffering. Doctor John Scott, lreben dary of Saint Pauls, a clergyman of great sane tity, and author of the christian life, a treatls | once widely renowned, was summoned: proba