SUPREME COURT.

Mount Ida Chronicle, Volume IV, Issue 217, 25 April 1873, Page 6

SUPREME COURT.

Dunedin, Friday, April 18. (Before his Honor Judge Chapman and Special Jury.) BREACH OP PROMISE OP MARRIAGE. Wenkheim v. Arndt.—This was a claim of £SOO damages for breach of promise of marriage. Mr. Barton and Mr. Chapman appeared for the plaintiff, Julius Wenk- ' heim, storekeeper, Queenstown; Mr. Stout (with him Mr. E. Cook) for the defendants, Hermann Arndt, merchant of Arrowtown, and Marie Arndt, his wife. The following were the issues read:—l. Was it in the month of June, 1872, mutually agreed between the plaintiff and the defendant, Marie Arndt, then being Marie Beaver, that they should marry each other within a reasonable time, and upon the request of the other of them ? 2. Did the said Marie Beaver, in breach of the said agreement, before the commencement of this action, refuse to marry the plaintiff? 3. Did the said Marie Beaver, on the 19th November, 1872, marry the defendant, Hermann .Arndt ? 4. Is the plaintiff entitled to recover any, and if any, what amount of damages? Mr. Barton's address was as follows : I appear in this case, instructed by • Messrs. Macassey, Holmes, and Chapman, for Mr. Julius Wenkheim—a storekeeper m a large way of business at Queenstown, and a highly respectable and well-to-do gentleman. There is at Queenstown another storekeeper carrying on business in an equally large way—Mr. Bendix Hallenstein—and between him and Mr. Wenkheim there exists a considerable'trade rivalry, and this rivalry has in all probability been the remote cause of this action, and of the very shabby and discreditable treatment to which Mr. Wenkheim has been subjected by the defendants. The male Hermann Arndt, carries on a large business at Arrowtown, either as a partner with Hallenstein, or else as his manager; but however that may _bb, he is a person of good position, considerable means, and the bosom friend of Mr. Hallenstein. Mr. Hallenstein is the member of Parliament for Queens- -_.. town, and I can only say that, if Mr. Hallenstein's powers over his brother members be at all equal to his persuasive qualities where his private friends are concerned, he ought to be deemed a dangerous rival to Mr. Vogel in the 'intricate game of New Zealand politics. The facts I am about to relate to you are almost as sensational as a three volume novel.—[His Honor: I hope you will compress them into one.]— And although Mr. Arndt and . Mr. Hallenstein have thus far completely checkmated the rival storekeeper, and have succeeded in making him the laughing stock to be pointed at by his neighbors in the Queenstown district, I am not so sure -, that from henceforth the tables will not v be turned, and that instead of Mr. Wenkheim haying to hide his head and leave the district, it may perhaps happen that it is Mr. Arndt and his bride, and his partner or employer, Mr. Hallenstein, thatVillhave to hide their heads in shame. If it does so happen that the biter shall be bitten in his turn, it will be only fair play, and will be a fitting conclusion of retributive justice to this curious romance in real life.—The facts are as follows: Some time previous to May, last year, Mr. Wenkheim was in Dunedin, and was then introduced to the family of the Beavers. He seems to have been smitten with Miss Marie Beaver, and some negotiations took place between him and Mr. Alexander Beaver, her brother, relative to making her his wife. In May, Mr. Alexander Beaver, the brother of the young lady, was making a professional tour through the Province, and at Arrowtown the plaintiff seems to have proposed to him for his sister's hand. The result of these negotiations was that Mr. Wenkheim wrote to Miss Beaver, offering her his hand, and in reply received two letters in that month from Mrs. Beaver and Miss Marie Beaver, which I shall now read to. you.

"Dunedin, May 12, 1872. " Mr. Wenkheim— * ' "Dear Sir,—l take the sacred parental duty as a privilege to address you the words which by right should be verbal. It is the holy promise which I have given to my husband in his last illness, expressed by him in these words: 'Bertha, remember you must tiow take care of Marie and Laura, and take care.' I said, * Yes, my dear The words are still in my ear. You will now understand, besides my maternal love and duties I have given the promise, and will keep it as long as they are under my protection. Once trusting these treasures in other hands, I must be fully aware that these men are indeed trustworthy to render them happy as far as human endeavors are able. The question is now, what are these ' requirements and desires ?' The answer is simply this: They are not too high. I wish my daughter to marry you, bitt I do not know your views of domestic life. You must remember you never expressed them in my house. T will tell you my own. Pray do not mistake me. My experience has taught which duty found I must tell. You said you worked hard: so far you fitlfilled your duty, yet you said you were not j

happy. My husband and myself did the utmost to give otir daughters some education to refine the home which it may please God to destine for them. To guide; to conduct it with care and good sense; to. make a pleasant, tasteful abode; to make of it a holy love and unity; to be good, saving housewives. - You are a. bachelor, living retired; have you considered whether you can support a wife and home comfortably ? _ "Trusting you can answer me conscientiously, and agree with my views, praying the Almighty may bless our doings and endeavors, —I am, &c, ." Bertha Beaver. " "May 19, 1872. "Mr. Wenkheim—"Dear Sir, —So unexpectedly came your letter, that it quite overpowered me for a few moments. 1 could not realise it, yet it were impossible that the deep feelings expressed therein should not have affected me. I asked myself over and over again, is this language really the dictates of your heart ? I would rather believe than doubt; yet it were too rash for me to answer definitely to the result of your loving appeal. I would not have a woman's heart, if I were to tell you it had not moved me deeply; but I should have preferred to speak to you—we have seen so little of each other, and the time was so short; but I thank you sincerely for your good opinion with regard to myself, and I feel truly happy to find you know how to appreciate each member of our much-loved family. I have indeed a loving home; it has kept me back with its endearing influence. Our circle was ever an affectionate one, and I may really say we have loved and lived for one another. If, it please God to direct my heart to accept" your loving offer, I would place such implicit confidence in you that you would be to me what my heart could desire/ You would be kind: as considerate as those I have now around me. I beg you will await my decision until I have heard from my dear brother, upon whose opinion I place the greatest trust. He will no doubt visit you shortly. Till then, -dear Mr. "Wenkheim, I hope you will have a little patience, and believe me, whatever may be the result of our short acquaintance, I shall always think with deep respect of your very kind-manner and good feeling you have deemed fit to express towards all of us. Once more thanking you and wishing you every success, believe me, dear sir, your ever sincere,

" Marie Beaver. " Miss Beaver, it will be noticed, requested Mr. Wenklieim, by her letter, to await her decision till she had heard from her, brother, " upon whose opinion she placed the greatest trust." On the Ist June, Mrs. Beaver telegraphed to her son, to Arrowtown, directing the telegram to care of Wenkkeiin, asking her son as follows : " .Uneasy about you. Wanted particulars how answer W.'s letter. Keply immediately. "Mrs. Beaver." On same day Alex. Beaver replied by telegram : " Particulars yesterday. Wait. Everything quite satisfactory to all. "A/Beaver." Upon this telegram Mrs. Beaver seems to have made up her mind, and on the following day, the 2nd June, Miss Marie Beaver, either by her own or her mother's hand, wrote to her lover the following very flowery, romantic, and love-provok-ing letter : _ "June 2, 1572. "Dear Mr. Wenklieim, —Really your loving letter gave me very great pleasure, and I begin to think, after all, a little fellow has a large heart at his disposal, and that dear heart is so full of feeling for me. I cannot be so indifferent to leave you any longer in suspense. It were heartless of me, indeed; but before I proceed with all I think to express, I want to tell you what unspeakable delight your letters give. I can read them over and over, the more I recall your words, which breathe f orthboth tender and manly thoughts, whether it tells your thoughts of home or j me, or reveals a truly loving nature, and awakens the fondest sympathy for you. You must be a good man, or it were impossible for you to foster such sweet recollections of scenes which, through the many worldly struggles, have yet remained unchanged. I cannot but ieel grateful to God for having won so loving a, heart. It is strange how, in course of time, circumstances reveal to us the hidden depth of our nature. I little dreamt when my dear brother introduced you, a perfect stranger, that so great an event as our mutual regard would originate from that accidental meeting; but from the first hour you no longer appeared a stranger to me. I have ever admired a genial nature, the very simplicity of your manner attracted me towards you, and now I pray to God that we shall both always bless the hour in which v/e met. If it were not the great confidence I place in your loving nature, I should not so easily have responded to your wishes; but as you say, I, too, feel within myself that you will make me truly happy. I will dotibt you no longer, but pray that God may bless us and grant us a long, happy, happy life, that you may be prosperous and always love me clearly. I-will be to you, please God, as good as I have ever endeavored to be to my darling parents; and if the voice of a loved one gone seems yet to call me—if that cherished memory appears a reality, and the" spirit of my father seems to bless, I cannot but regret that he is no longer here to share my heart's happiness. My dearest mother has given her consent and blessing, and I now allow my thoughts to dwell upon my future home. I picture you as much happier—your home which I shall enter, Ohi such pride to adorn. You will

become a different man; you ■will not know yourself, for I feel that such united power as please God,, of creating our home an ideal one, we shall both make it the centre of our hopes—it must be a perfect little picture—one that my dear husband will long to linger in—it must give us comfort and pleasure, where will find a sweet repose after a busy day. I would, prefer a cottage in a garden. However, my dear Mr. Wenkhehn, you shall act as you please; but it is such pleasure _to tend the flowers, and watch a spring with her blooming tenderness opening every little bud; and then, on the summer's evening, fancy us sitting at the open window and the fragrant perfume stealing into our room. I should really love my———but T won't say what, 37-ou will think me romantic; but it is not so; I picture a house where a loving, happy pair will be found. I have some nice new songs, and that will fill the vacant moment. You must write very often to me, and please to call me ' Marie,' never 'Maria.' I don't like that name. Marie sounds much sweeter. Write me long letters express your ideas fully, since I do not think you can spare the time (however much I would like it) to come tons. We shall have to content ourselves by writing often. I like your letters; they cannot be too long—tell me about yourself; if you are getting better. I hope you and dear Alexander have spent some pleasant hours together. lam expecting his return with great impatience, but I am just chatting to you as though I had known you ever so long; it is very strange; it seems all to be a dream, and God grant we may ever live in the most happy reality. Good-bye, and believe me ever your sincere ".Mahie. "P.S.—My clearest mother and Laura send their kind regards; will both write to yon next time." , Before receipt of this letter, Alexander Beaver told Wenkheim he would be accepted, and thereupon Wenkheim was overjoyed, and began to make his arrangements to change his condition, and informed his friends of the engagement. Amongst others, he told the news to a friend of his who was in Hallenstein's employment—a Mr. Jacob Vandor Walde —who told it to Mr. Hallenstein in Mr. Arndt's presence. What Hallenstein and Arhdt did we can only judge of by subsequent events : but Hallenstein seems have had an interview with Mr. A. Beaver, and the result was that, on the 6th June while Miss Marie's love-letter was still on its way to her intended husband, a telegram was sent by Mrs. Beaver to Wenkheim in these words : " Please send my letter addressed to you unopened by return of coach back. Will reply to your letter soon. (Signed) " Mes Beaveu." As_ I presume Mrs. Beaver would not be. guilty of so mean and paltry a mis-state-' rnent as to call her daughter's letter f( my letter," I have from this circumstance, coupled with the strange similarity, of the handwriting, drawn the conclusion thjat she—Mrs. Beaver—at all events,, actecf as amanuensis, while her daughter was giving vent to the beautiful and romantic thoughts with which the epistle is filled. To this telegram the unsuspecting Wenkheim replied on the same day. " I come and see you—please let me soon open the letter. " Wenkheim." But hour after hour passed by without any answer, until at last Wenkheim again' entreated fer a reply in these words : " Please reply ;" I wait in the office. " Wenkheim," None came, however, till next day, when he received from Mrs. Beaver the following telegram : " Too late for reply. Pray do net open letter. Must speak with my son; expect him daily.

" Mks Beaver." • Now, by this time, Hallenstein and Arndt who thought themselves sufficiently secure to crow a little, began to talk openly and Wenkheim soon heard of their sayings and doings, and the light began to dawn upon him that all was not rightand as he had received no telegram while waiting during the whole day of the 6tK he on that evening opened the letter, and to his surprise and delight he found it was not a letter from Mrs. Beaver, but from Mane herself, and filled with such warm expressions of affectionate anticipation of her married happiness, that Wenkheim felt sure the young lady's affections were Jiis, so he, on the morning of the 7th tele graphed to Miss Marie as follows : " Miss Marie Beaver, jwT iead thj letter - im »hw ■" Thy Wenkheim." This telegram must have crossed Mrs Beaver's of same date. We may imagine the surprise of each on receipt of the telegram of the other. However, the old lady seems to have been equal to the occasion. bJie saw that something must be done to keep things as they were, and she accordingly telegraphs a trumped-up excuse, after taking three days to discover it as follows : ' «w 7i •' n ~l " Jnr >e 10, 1872. Wenkheirn, Queenstown— m " Some hours after the letter had left I learnt

I that you long had been engaged. Hare no | further explanation of this. My son is not returned. I * " Mes. Beater." That; the excuse was trumped-up, and also that the widow wanted to keep two strings to ner bow appears plain, from the following two telegrams to her son: " Beaver, Cromwell—- " Shall M. accept W.j or wait until your return.. Answer. Come home soon. " Mes. Beatee." „ " June -18, Beaver, Alexandra—"Letter from Arndt—will come—does he-/ know about W. Did you speak about M. to - A ? Reply. " Beaver." To this the reply'was as follows ; ' " Beaver, Dunedin—- " Have spoken to A. about M. Cannot say if A. knows about W. When will A. be in Dunedin ? No coach until Friday. Reply. " Beater."' Now, gentlemen, comes the cream of the plotting and counterplotting of. this very amiable and. accomplished BeaTer famiiy. Wenkheim, when he heard of Halienstein and Arndt's boastings, at once wrote to Alexander Beaver* and that gentleman, whose correspondence by telegram with his family I haTe first read, wrote this astoundingly cunning and false letter to Wenkheim, which I shall now read to you—

"Cromwell, June 7,1872. ' " Mr. dear Friend,—lt is with feelings of pain I answer your letter, which was placed in my hand this day, and would have telegraphed at once had I not thought it better to communicate my ideas in proper course. It seems rather strange that my dear ones should have telegraphed for letters : addressed to you, and also natural that you should suspect that I acted prejudicially against you ; but let me tell you distinctly that you are mistaken, for had I -that motive my action would have been definite, and had I spoken that further connection must cease. "My letters which were written home can fbe read by you, and I am satisfied all that has been said, you would admit in my face, is not contrary to your own wishes—not contrary to your interest, but faithful and honest, and what you may feel proiid of; what, can I say against you ? What can" any person say ? . My private opinion and public is : the same. Do you immagihe that lam so silly as to forget that every man's time is so valueless as to be abhvto spend it foolishly. I appreciate your economy of time, and praydo not attribute to me what I am innocent of j you charge me with things wrongfully and unfairly.

." How can you inimagine that what has. been said between heaven and earth, underthe strictest confidence and good faith, should be used against you by me. As you are mistaken, what has been said is sacred, as though, you had never written or uttered anything. My letters home are plain and. simple, not touching- on anything beyond yourself as a person and business; I hope they are not destroyed, that you can judge for . yourself: Again, as to your position ; I -must tell you plainly that, in my opinion, few men have risen as you haye ; and my opinion of you is higher than you immagine. Yes, even much higher than when first I had the pleasure of knowing you. I have nothing to vindicate" myself with. I have not abused your confidence, not to a single person, and will not for anybody. "On the other hand, I must express my;, ideas- that if they wish at home that you should return'any letters they sent, it is your.unbounded duty to grant their request, and that without hesitation. I do not wish ta say more, only that if it should be ordained that we should stand in close relation, it will not be by force but natural means; which can i only take place by calm reflection. I have asked justly on both sides, have nothing to reproach myself with, and .again say what I have written is only in your favor;— With regards, yours. truly, "A. Beaver." Upon receipt of this letter Wenkheim telegraphed to Miss Marie as follows : "June" "19. ".Miss Marie Beaver " Ask thy,brother; all in order. . "Thy Wenkheim." This telegram from Wenkheim seems to have excited great commotion in the Beaver family, and a. lady, signing herself " Beaver "—probably the daughter, not the mother—forthwith sent off two telegrams, one to Wenkheim and one to her brother, as follows : '' Wenkheim—"You will receive letter by next mail. "Beaver.". { . "June 19. "Beaver—- " Shall I write A ? Reply to telegram, yesterday." "Beaver." Whether Miss Beaver wrote to Arndt wecannot tell; but she did not write to Wenkheim, as she said she would; and Wenkheim, who seems to have been puzzled to know who had telegraphed to him, sent a telegram on the 22nd June, as follows : "Beaver, Dunedin—- " Mail in; no letter. Who wrote? Beply. "Wenkheim.' 7

And in reply he got a telegram—- " You will receive letter on Monday. "Beaver." What Beaver it was he didn't find out by that telegram, at all events, and so Wenkheim turned ; his attention to Arndt, and made telegraphic enquiries as to his whereabouts. The result was that he became suddenly enlightened, and on the 25th June he telegraphed to Miss Marie as follows .: " Marie Beaver, Dunedin—"Arm hurt. Accident. Doctor forbids travelling. Arndt is coming to.purchase you. Be faithful. . I come soon. Your letters are too good as to part with them. I am engaged to you only. Ever "Wenkheim." To this he got a rather mysterious reply from the mysterious "Beaver," whom I presume to be Miss Marie.. She telegraphed as follows : "Sorry to hear of your accident. Cannot speak in your present excitement. "Beaver;" We can fancy poor Miss Marie's terrible state of doubt as to which lover she was to have. I am instructed that up to this time she had never as yet laid her eyes upon Mr. Arndt, but no doubt her mother and brother had drawn a fancy portrait of him, very beautiful to- look at. Her impatience to get rid of this suspense must have been great. No doubt she said often to herself — " How happy could I be with either, Were t'other dear charmer away." Accordingly, to bring matters, to a crisis' Mr; Alexander Beaver telegraphed to Mr. Hallenstein, on the 29th June, to enquire for Arndt. "B. Hallenstein, Arrow—-"-Arndt not yet arrived: has anything happened? "A. Beaver." And on receipt of that telegram Arndt apparently started for town, but so also did Mr. Wenkheim, and both met in the coach travelling to Dunedin. Wenkheim then told Arndfc about his engagement, and put it ttf'him as a gentleman and a man of honor whether it was right of him to endeavor to induce this young'lady and her family to break their engagement. Arndt made no reply, and on their arrival in town both of them went to the house of *the Beavers. Mr. Arndfc was the successful wooer, and Wenkheim, nexb morning, received thiough Mr. Alexander Beaver the dismissal which Miss Beaver the day before had not had the courage to give herself. No doubt she had discovered that Arndfc was the wealthier of the two, and so she followed in the footsteps of Distaffma under similar circumstances. We can fancy her'quoting the words of that heroine, slightly altered, thus—"Tjet silly maids for love their favors yield; Rich ones forme—Arndt against the field.' When Wenkheim got his dismissal from the brother, he went to a lawyer, and on the 4th July Mr. Macassey sent a letter to Mrs. Beaver, and on the following day Mr. Wenkheim himself sent a notice to the Rabbi not to marry the defendants. The result of these letters and notices was that the Rabbi refused at that time to marry them, and nofching further was done till November. By that time Arndt seems to have made his arrangements for changing his condition, and on the 9fch November he telegraphs to Miss Marie Beaver: — " Furniture, per Walsh, arrived; splendid condition." On the 11th November he again telegraphs : " Furniture arrived; mirror capital condition, also crockery. Leave per coach Tuesday morning, via Tuapeka. Shall explain satisfactorily this delay. Kind love." On the 12th November he finally telegraphs to Miss Marie : '' Just leaving per coach. Hoping to meet in joys. With kind remembrance. "Arndt." On the 18th November, Wenkheim received notice of the intended marriage on the 19fch November, and; started immediately to claim his rights ; but his horse broke down at Palmerston, whereupon he sent a telegram to Miss Marie in these words : "I am coming. Horse broke down. "Wenkheim." When he arrived in town she was already the bride of his rival, and Mr. Wenkheim had nothing left for it but to bring this action. Arndt was in possession. Hallenstein had checkmated his rival and mated his partner, and the lady was gone for ever. Perhaps you will say the plaintiff has had no great loss. Perhaps he ought to behave like a philosopher, and say to himself—- " No, no, I'll loye no more; let him who can Fancy the maid who fancies every man." Mr. Stout,' in addressing tVjury, said : I will try to confine my remarks within as brief a compass as possible. The learned counsel who opened the ease said he would endeavor to compress the material he had

for a three-volume novel into one ; but I will endeavor not even to make remarks sufhcieht to afford material for one volume. The action in which I appear for the de-' fendant is of a strange character. Many actions for damages for breach of promise of marriage had been brought by ladies against gentlemen, but this is the unusual course of a gentlemen suing a lady on such grounds. Before I take up the subject of the telegrams,.l. wish to do- what has not been done, and to read Wenkheim's letters. If Mrs. Arndt's letter contained romance, I think for an aged man there is a good deal of romance in his. When he says he could not take his breakfast till he got her letter, and other circumstances, they show that when the learned counsel read those letters, he left out the real romance of the story. The first letter I shall read is as follows :- - _ " Dear Miss Maria,—Encouraged by your kind hospitality and friendly behavior towards' me when in Dunedin, I venture to confess to you what I ought to have done when there — viz., that I felt in your society what I have not felt before: that is, really happy. Yes, many women has attracted my attention; but I felt that passion could not mature out of it. At last, then, I found the being I am certain I could love unceasingly. Oh! would to G-od that being would feel the same; I would then be what I have not been yet—a happy man: my work would be pleasure, mybusiness cares childsplay. More so,, if kind Providence would take from me my little savings, I would work for such a woman as my strength would permitt. Now, dearest, remember I did not try to deceive you in my representation. I am, indeed, a plain man of business, and claim no credit either "of ability nor sociality: but I know I got a heart which can love when I find the object meriting my affections'. You are that being I love; you have got my afections. It is strange, certainly; I saw so little of you, and yet it seems to me as if I knew you for years. How home I felt in your peaceably house; the dear old lady interested me much—more, she amused me very much, because I like the sort of friendly oposition, conversation, and your dove-like looking sister (happy Newman!), and last, if not least, your brother, who is realy a remarkably fine young man: it is. but seldom we find in such a youth the love for his home and his kindred. But, alas! I am straying from my subject. Pardon such. I could not vergitt them which, have been so sincerely kind to me. Since I am back I tryed to banish what I considered a folly from my memory, but these I have not succeeded in. Contrary: your picture is before me—your voice sweetly sounds to my ear; and I ask myself, Will these form, these pleasing face, ever be mine? and I says, Hope; and hope I will. If my apeal is successful, I have obtained my object—that is to say, a compensation for'the past. God will store lots of happy years for me, and of course what is myn is naturally yours. Came vergitt you are accomplished, you possess superior Education, you are more used, to Society than myself; but remember you can restore to a cloudet heart its former energy and love which is allready alive—for you. Dearest, be mindful! ' 1 do not apeal to you as a coldblooded proposer.; I apeal from the voice of my heart. I work for money, but mary for love. It is with you', therefore, to decide my fate. May I mention the brittish law saysany doubts give the prisoner the benefitt! If you accept, please send me telegram the word yes, otherwise, write. Please the later words make my heart beate. Farewell. "J. Wenelheim. '' Miss Maria Beaver. ; ' [The learned Judge said this affair was not unlike a contract for a hogshead of sugar. Was this not something like it in his mind ? That was the first time he ever mentioned anything of love to Miss Beaver—he never previously saw one of the family, only saw her twice, and yet says "telegraph the word yes.' 5 ] —The letter I am about to read, was written after he got Mrs. Arndt's letter : " Queenstown, June 7"fch, 1872. '•My dearest Marie—Two sleepless nights, two restless days—your dear, dear letter was unopened. Unfcill about ten minutes ago I carried it everywhere with me. My heart; told me its contents/ I struggled hard to overcome my passion, to obey the parental wish of your dear mother. A few intimate friends I informed of my distress, who sympathised affectionately with me, and consoled and advised me, which advice wras substantiating my own unshakeable beleave that you were pure and true as a mortal can be. At last, with a feverish hand, I tore the envelope, saying I love the daughter, and her only 1 will be dictated. Oh ! had you sent the cruel telegram I wOuld have done as you wished. But the address being your hand writing my heart was burning with desire to know my fate. It was to much. The trial was more than a man in love can bear. I read the letter. I said read. I swallowed word for word. Oh, G-od ! how heavenly is your mind. How do you understand my nafrura ; how quick have you peuetrated my heart's desires. Oh, girl ! how can I compensate you' for those land heartfelt words, which were like balsam to my wounds. I have tasted but little food of late ; but these morning I enjoyed a breackfast as I have not done for many years. The little fellow has growen tall. . It appears as if everybody is smiling at me, and wishes me eternal happyness, and still there is your dear mother's telegram in the way, but surely she will -pardon me. She loved herself one time, and should not be narsh with me. All I can say is, let her trey my perseverance and generosity and she, no doubt, will, find me more staunch. [ But I must come and make peace with the good

o'd lady and then she will concider ruy feelings. Yes, feelings. I say realy I do feel I do love" I love you, sweet Marie, so deeply, so nappy, so suspiciously as I niver did before. There is no pain, no sorry atached to it. I love as if was side on side on a being who says I am your friend, I will you-in trouble, I will console you in a dark hour, I will nurse you through illness, I will be a part of you, I will smile when your brow is cloudet with care or anger, I will open the gates of a worldly heaven for you, I am thy true loving wife. Yes, such your eyes told me when 1 saw you first and last, and so says your kind letter. How can"! give you an equivalent for all these ? I say I will do all I can; then your happiness is my happiness, your trouble are my trouble, then you are my sitn, you will always shine, .and if a dark cloud should shady its pleasing light, I will pray to God for its restoration. Then.after rain comes sunshine. Yes, and such is the case with my humble self. I had a good many stormey,.days, be it as it regards elements or strife: I thank God I have weathered the waves of life and river have changed the course were my object was bound, for certainly now I lay in harbour safely moared, a little disabled. I rest, 1 repair, and soon God will enably me to. lift anchor and proudly stand out redy to encounter the storms it pleases God to engage me.with. How keener will I guide the helm, how confidently will I cheer on when in the harbor. I engaged a first mate whose courage and faithfulness I do not doubt, come what will. I will do my duty, and if it is Providence will the ship shall sink, : then, oh God, give me strength that I may meet my fate like a man, and with my mate's hand in myn, zarender ourselves to God's mercy, and yet I find now it is so sweet to love, and to live, and we will live and love together. Please God you will love me for my weakness, and I love you for your goodness. Good girl, excuse me when I candidly confess the future appears to me so bright that I will not permit the thought you will forsake me. Such cannot be; it is impossible. We were borne for each other, and God let us meet at a matured age, where reason mixes with pleasure. Oh, dear Marie, how has my brain been sterling since I opened these God's present (your letter). Plans have entered my head I niver thought off. I tell you are (be my judge) I thought if busseness does not please you, I would sellout. ! I know beautiful! farm, for sale. Oh! such a lovely place; beautifully situated, a splendid house, and splendid garden and archard to it. I can purchase it reasonable. I would let my new house, my cottage, my paddock, which will give me about £3 to £4\ per week—what will keep us up here—and we got the farm besides, and I cin make money besides that he —my good girl, what do you think of that; ? Fancy yourself prummenading in the gardens early in the morning, seeing and .pat ting our pretty horses, cows, and goats, if you 'ike, and • your sheepish slave, Julius, is busy to gather flowers for his own dear girl's breakfast table ; and now we are visited by your, or myn dear relatives. O, dear, I see you allready so vexed;, how naughty the little ones have been. AH right, my tormentor :. call me what you like ; but when you have done, give a little kiss, you know, by way of settlement. Aha! the first kiss I must have sooiij please God; and even if you say it is naughty, I am sure I find it nice. Now dearest, sweet, loving Marie, I will see you very.soon, even at the sacrifide of bussenes matters. Good-by. God bless yon, my worldly treasure, and believe your imaginary kissing Julius. My best respects to your own dear, thoughtful mother, and almost over prudent brother, and the dear Laura." I . think the very fact, mentioned in that letter, oi Mrs. Arndt doing so much good to him as riding him - dyspepsia, might have been enough to have satisfied him, without seeking damages. What, did Wenkheini mean when on June 7th he wrote to Mrs. Arndt about her "overprudent brother P" If 1 had not brought out this circumstance of his past life, the passages in the letter could not have been explained. That was why I put the questions, and I could have insisted on further answers. That was the " cloud." If the defendant's witness had not displayed a better spirit, I could have insisted upon Alexander Beaver telling the story. Alexander Beaver kept the secret like a gentleman, and has not abused W"enkheim's confidence. If there had been no cloud, do you think the learned counsel would not have asked, " What is this cloud?"' The reason why he did not must be obvious to all. However revengeful he may have been, I have no wish .to copy Shylock of old, and say one word in such a spirit. The learned counsel was most indiscreet in attacking Alexander Beaver and there I leave it. His Honor, in summing up, said : The instructions which I will give are very simple and few, and I hope to compress my remarks within a very short period of time. The action is in the usual form for breach of promise of marriage, and a somewhat unusual feature in the case —unusual, at all events in this country, though cases have occurred not unfrequently in the Mother country —is, that it is the man who is plaintiff, suing the lady, who has since married another person, for damages. Undoubtedly in the present state' of the law for years—for centuries in fact—the man is considered to have an equal right to sustain this action as the woman. There is no distinction in point of law ; there may perhaps be some difference in the minds of the jury when they come to consider the question of damages, but as a legal question the right is as well and

[ firmly -established in the man who is in- [ jured as in the case of a woman. It is necessary-in an action of this description that there should be two elements. First of all you must be convinced that an engagement has taken place:—what the Jaw technically calls mutual promises—and that the engagement was subsisting between the parties. If you come to the conclusion against that supposition—that there was no engagement—then there is an end of the whole affair. come to the; con elusion that there was an engagement subsisting, the next element is, that it has been broken. If there is an engagement, there is no doubt that it has been broken, and in a most effectual manner, by marrying another person. The third issue, therefore, whatever your opinion may be on the others, you must find in the affirmative. The first issue is, whether there ever was a contract ? whether there; were mutual promises ? -whether there was - an engagement between the parties ? If. you think there was. a contract, your answer to the first issue will be in the affirmative ; if you think' there never was an engagement, you will negative the second issue, which is that Miss Beaver, now Mrs. Arndt, refused to marry, in breach of the engagement, because if' there was no agreement, - she could not have- refused to marry. You will therefore perceive that the stress of the case lays in the first issue. In an action of this sort it is not necessary to prove so* clear and distinct a contract as in a case of bargain and sale : for instance, it is not absolutely necessary to prove in this case that the man said, " Will you marry me?"'' and the lady said, " I will marry you." Of course, if can be proved to have been done in the presence of witnesses or done in writing, it is the most satisfactory evidence of mutual promise. But it most often happens that is what is vulgarly termed "popping the question" takes place in secret. . The gentleman asks the lady in such eloquent phrases as he can muster if she is wiiFng to become his wife : she simpers out " yes," or sheds a few tears upon his shirt breast.—(Laughter.) She gives her consent in such a way that none but themselves hear it. You will read the telegrams and the correspondence for after all, the oral testimony of Mr. Alexander Beaver amounts to very little : he says he never gave his-consent'to it. His consent was not necessary. There is • no plea that the young lady was a minor at the time: being of full age, it was competent for her' to make the engagement even without his consent. Whatever may be the Jewish law, the law of England says a woman of full age may enter into an agreement against the consent of her parent, and if they will not consent it is competent for her to make a contract. We must presume that she was of full age in this case, because there is no plea of infancy ; therefore, she was competent to make an agreement without the consent of her brother. With that direction I shall leave the matter in your hands ..'...- . . . The only question that remains for you to, determine is the extent of damages you give. Upon that, which is entirely a question for you to determine, I shall give no directions beyond those of a general character. Vindictive damages are not claimed ; if -they were, they ought not to be given. . .... It is a question for the jury to give such reasonable damages as they may consider fair compensation for the injury for which plaintiff claims. The jury, after a very short retirement, returned a verdict for the plaintiff—damages, one farthing: Each side pays his own costs.—Condensed from the ' Moi'ning Star. 5 ,