lars to the local magistrates. They said they had dreamed on that particular night that the body was lying in a well in the farmyard. No well was known to be there at all, so the two men were laughed at. Some persons, however, went to the yard, and although there was no appearance of a well, they at last found one under some manure, and the body was in it; then, of course, on the principle of the proverb, "He who hides can find," the public began to suspect the two men themselves. But it was finally proved that the farmer had been murdered by his own two nephews, who had afterwards disposed of his body thus. Before these dreams the dreamers had known nothing about the well in the yard. The nephews were hanged for their crime.—Argosy.
CAUSES CÉLÈBRES.
VI.
D'ANGLADE.
[1687.]
HUMAN justice, alas! like all that is human, is subject to injustice and error. The long list of its decrees shows only too many iniquitous or deplorable mistakes. On more than one page of its record we see an innocent man condemned, it may be through passion, or perhaps, through blindness or negligence. It is but just to remark, however, to the honor of modern times, that the number of cases of error has notably diminished in our day. The rights of the accused are now better protected, and the strong arm of the law is stretched forth for his defence as well as for his punishment. But before the introduction of the modern spirit into justice, error reigned supreme. It would be an almost hopeless task to attempt to enumerate the judgments, anterior to the nineteenth century, which were tinged with it. Among the many unfortunates who have been the victims of judicial error, certain names will forever be held up before the world as deplorable types of the weakness of human justice. Prominent among these is the name of D'Anglade.
In 1687 a large and beautiful mansion in the Place Royale in Paris was inhabited by two families. The basement and first floor were occupied by the Count and Countess de Montgomery, persons of wealth and position, who kept up an expensive establishment. This house was for them only a temporary abiding-place, however, as they passed the greater part of the year on their estate in Villebousin.
The second and third floors were rented by Laurent Guillemont d'Anglade and his wife, whose means were comparatively small, but who had many friends in distinguished position.
Friendly relations existed between the two families, although they had never been on terms of intimacy. For the first time, in the autumn of 1687, the Montgomerys, upon the point of departing for their estate, invited the D'Anglades to accompany them. D'Anglade accepted the invitation; but a short time before the day set for their departure, he informed the Count that he should be unable to go with him.
The Montgomerys did not insist. On Monday, the 22d of September, 1687, the Count and Countess, accompanied by their almoner and retinue of servants, started for Villebousin, announcing that they should return on the following Thursday. On Wednesday evening, however, twenty-four hours
