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��THE OLD MANSION.
��' the law is the quintessence of justice.'" By the statute of 28 Henry VIII., C..15, Benefit of Clergy was taken away from all offenses committed on the high seas. Under this statute, if a man owning real estate to the value of millions, but no personal property, had stolen goods to the amount of thirteen pence, when he was three miles from the mainland, or any headland thereof, or' any bay or arm or inlet of the sea. he would have been hung, his lands would have been forfeit- ed to the crown, and his family would have been left to beg or starve, or steal and be hung themselves. If, however, the crime had been committed at any distance less than three miles from the mainland, or any headland thereof, or any bay or arm or inlet of the sea, then the offender would not have been pun- ishable either in person or estate — pro- vided that he could read.
The Benefit of Clergy that we have considered is that which ordinary peo- ple enjoyed, people of the middle class. It was rendered almost a dead letter by the
��statute of 5 Anne, C. 6, and was finally abolished in 1827 — except as to noble- men.
1 Edward VI., C. 12, provided that " any Lord or Lords of Parliament, to include Archbishops and Bishops and any Peer or Peers of the realm, having place or voice in the Parliament, being convicted of any of the said offenses, [house-breaking by day or night, high- way robbery, horse-stealing, robbing churches, etc.] for the first time, upon his or their request or prayer, though he cannot read, be allowed Benefit of Cler- gy, and be discharged without any burn- ing in the hand, loss of inheritance or corruption of blood."
After occupying a prominent place in English law for more than seven hun- dred years, Benefit of Clergy has at length become a thing of the past. Since Victoria came to the throne, and since the trial of Lord Cardigan, it has been formally abolished as to noblemen. — E. P. Dole.
��THE OLD MANSION.
��BY HELEN M. RUSSELL.
��"Goodbye, sister! I shall be glad when I go to work again, so I can ac- company you every morning. It is a long dreary walk for you to take alone."
" I do not find it so, Frank. I enjoy it very much, though of course I like your company. Good morning;" and, turn- ing, the young girl walked away in the direction of the village whose church spires one could just discern above the trees in the distance, while her compan- ion, a lad perhaps fourteen or sixteen years of age, retraced his steps to the lit- tle white cottage, evidently their home.
She was not beautiful, this heroine of mine, scarcely pretty, even, and yet there was a " nameless something " about her that would attract one's attention even in the midst of those who laid claim
��to far greater personal charms. Her hair was brown, so dark as to be nearly black ; her eyes were dark grey. She was not tall, but singularly graceful in every movement. Indeed, Esther Arlington was just what she seemed, modest and gentle, and consequently respected by all who knew her. Her father had died when she was twelve years old, leaving her mother with two children, herself and a brother, younger by several years. They were far from being wealthy, and therefore as soon as Esther became old enough she was obliged to look about in search of some means of earning a liveli- hood.
Fortunately, she secured an excellent situation as saleswoman in a dry goods store in the large and thriving village of
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