The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1875-03-04
A JURYMAN'S STORY.

BY NEW YORK MERCHANT.
We had been out of court twenty
hours, and stood eleven to one. The
case was very plain one--at least, we
eleven thought SO. a murder of pecu-
liar atrocity had been committed; and
though no eye had witnessed the deed,
circumstances pointed to the prisoner
guilt with unfailing certainty.
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 defendant
innocence, and yet, on every vote, went
steadily for acquittal. Eis conduct was
inexphcable. 1t could not result from a
lack of intelligence; for. while he spoke
but little, his words were well chosen,
and evinced a thorough understanding
of the case.
Slough still in the prime of manhood,
his locks were prematurely white, and
his face.wore a singularly sad and thought
full expression. He might be one of
those who entertained scruples as to the
right of society to infict the death pen
atty. But no, it was not that; for, in
reply to such suggestion, he frankly
admitted that the brutal men, like the
vicious brutes they resemble, must be
controlled through fear, and that dread
of death, the supreme terror, is, in many
cases, the only adequate restraint.
At the prospect of another night of
frrlitless Imprisonment we began toigrow
impatient, and expostulated warmly
against what seemed an unreasonable
captiousness; and some not over kind
remarks were INDUCED in as to the I'M
propiety of trifing with an oath like that
under which we were acting.
'sAnd yet" the man answered, as
though communing with himself, rather
than repelling the imputation, sit is
conscience that hinders my concurrence
in verdict approved by my Judgment. "
GLOW can that be ?'queried several at
once.
Conscience may not always dare to
follow Judgment
ssBut here she can know no other
guide"
81 once would have said the same"
''And what has changed your opin-
ion?"
''Erperience!"
The speakers manner was visibly
agitated, and we waited in silence the
explanation which he seemed ready to
give. Mastering his emotion, as if in
answer to our looks of inquiry, he con-
tinued:
''Twenty years ago, I was young
mani just beginning life. Few had bright
ter prospects, and none brighter hopes.
An attachment, dating from childhood,
had ripened with its object. There had
been no verbal declaration and accep-
tnce of love-no formal plie hitting of
troth but when I took my departure to
seek home in the distant West, it was
a thing understood, that when I had
fonnd it and put it in order, she was to
share it. Life in the forrest, though
solitary, is not necessarily lonesome.
The kind of society afforded by Nature,
depends much on ones self. As for me
I lived more in the future than in the
present, and Hope is an ever-cheerful
companion. At legth the time came for
making the final payment on the home
which had bought. 1t would hence
forward be my own and, in few more
months, my simple dwelling, which 1
had spared no pains to render inviting
would be graced by its mistress.
SAT the land-office, which was some
sixty miles off, [ met my old friend,
George G.. 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. 1
expressed strong wish to have him for
a neighbor, and gave him cordial invi-
tation to accompany me home, giving it
as my belief that he coul nowhere make
q better seIe ,t-on than in that vicinity.