Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1869-06-04
Misttuang.
4 JURTM4N'S STORY.
BY JUDGE CLARK.

We had been out twenty-four hours,
and stood eleventh one. The case was
plain one-at least we eleven thought so.
A murder of peculiar atrocity had been
committed; and though no eye had wit
messed the deed. circumstances pointed
to the prisoners guilt with unfailing GER
tainty.
The recusant juror had stood out from
the first. He acknowledged the cogency
Of the proofs. confessed his inability to
reconcile the facts with the defendants
innocence, and yet, on every vote went
steadily for acquittal.
His conduct was ine1plicable. 1t could
not rise from lack of intelligence; for,
while he spoke but little, his words were
well chosen, and eyinced thorough I'M
derstanding of the case.
Though still in the prime of manhood,
his locks were prematurcly white, and
his face wore singularly sad and thought
ful expression.
He might be one of those who enter
tanned scruples as to the right OF society
to inflict the death penalty. But no, it
was not that for, in reply 10 such sug-
gestion, he frankly admitted that brutal
men, like the vicious brutes they resem-
BILE, must be controlled by fear, and that
dread of death. the supreme terror, is, in
many cases. the only adequate restraint.
AT the prospect of another night of
fruitless Imprisonment we began to grow
impatient, and expostulated warmly
against what seemed an unreasonable
captiousness and some not over kind re-
marks were indulged in as to the impro-
priety of trifing with an oath like that
under which we were acting.
And yet, the man answered, AS though
eommuning with himself rather than re-
pelling the imputation, " 1t is Conscience
that hinders my concurrence in verdict
approved of by my judgment"
How can that be ?n inquired several
at once.
Conscience may not always dare to fol-
low judgment"
"Buthere she can know no other guide'
~ once would have said the same"
And what has changed your opinion p
"ExPERIENCE
The speakers manner was visibly agi-
tated; we waited in silence the explana-
ton which he seemed ready to give.
Mastering his emotion. as if in answer
to our looks of inquiry, he continued;
Twenty years ago was young man
just beginning life. Few had brighter
prospects, and none brighter hopes.
An attachment, dating from childhood,
had ripened with its object. There had
been no verbal declaration and accept
ance Of lovs-no formal plighting of
troth; but when / took my departure to
seek home in the distant West, it was a
thing understood, that when had found
it and put it in order, she was TO share it.
Life in the forest, though solitary, is
not necessarily lonesome. The kind of
society afforded by Nature, depends much
on ones self. AS for me, lived more in
the future than in the present, and Hope
is IN ever-cheerful companion.
At length the time came for making the
final payment on the home which l had
bought 1t would henceforth be my
own; and in few more months, my sim
pie dwelling, which had spared no
pains to render inviting, would be
graced by its mistress.
At the land-ofiice, which was some six
ty miles off, met my old friend, George
C.. He too had come TO seek his fortune
| in the West; and We were both delighted
at the meeting. He had brought with
him, he said, sum of money which he
desired to invest in land, on which it
was his purpose to settle.
Iexpressed a strong wish to have him
for neighbor. and gavo him a cordial
invitation TO accompany me home, CIV