fence so heinous as that charged against the prisoner? She had been imprudent; she had been imposed upon; she had been impoverished, together with her children, to whom she was tenderly attached. And if this were not a state of circumstances calculated to produce such a reflection, I am utterly at a loss to conceive what would be. On this side of the grave, indicates worldly suffering for worldly indiscretion. If she had been guilty of the imputed crime, her fears would not have fallen short of that punishment which awaits the wicked beyond the grave.

Taking these letters all together, and carefully perusing them, nothing can be found inconsistent with the consciousness of innocence. Can you suppose, if this woman had committed so odious and hateful a crime as that imputed, writing as she did, under the sanctity of a seal, and to her partner in iniquity, she never would have allowed a single word to escape her, in which the lynx eye of the prosecution could perceive a semblance of guilty remorse or timidity. If we are determined to suspect crime first, and then to distort and pervert every thing to the support of that suspicion, no man, innocent or otherwise, can escape punishment. I defy the counsel, with all their learning, skill, and accuracy, to write a letter upon any subject, in which I cannot detect, being suspiciously disposed, either an intention to conceal some motive that they entertain, or a disposition to convey'some idea that they do not. If their composition be loose, it will be indefinite and equivocal, and admit of a vast variety of constructions. If it be terse and precise, we may plausibly infer, from that very terseness and precision, that they are anxious to guard themselves against the disclosure of some lurking motive.

In reference to the letter written from Erie to Colonel Cuesta, I have but a remark or two to make, carrying with me the benefit of those observations upon the previous correspondence. That letter, be it remembered, was written several months after her departure from Andalusia. It contains this passage: "When I reflect that it is possible, that my dear husband died of poison, and that I myself am suspected of being an accomplice, I am shocked, I am paralyzed." Now, says the opposite counsel, "why should she dream of being suspected?" I answer, for the most ob-* vious reason; because the public journals throughout the United States, to which she undoubtedly had reference, uttered nothing but the most malevolent and unfounded reports of her participation in this crime. She must have closed her eyes, her ears, and her understanding, against every passing wind, if she had not discovered, long ere the date of that letter, the weight of obloquy and suspicion that was heaped upon, and crushed her.

In the same letter she mentions, among various other matters, the inferences that may be drawn from her unfortunate flight, and although that subject is not now presented in the exact order of time, I perhaps cannot do better than briefly consider, and dispose of it.

The reasons which she herself gives for abandoning the protection of her household gods, and temporarily deserting her children, for the purpose of avoiding the violence of the gathering storm, are such as to carry conviction of their truth to every bosom. She was the teacher, and had been for years, of a large and highly respectable seminary; her reputation was her stock in trade; exposure was but another word for death: that she should shrink from it, therefore, was natural-was excusable. That she contemplated but a temporary absence, is plain from her conversation with Mrs. Smith, from her communication to Justice Barker, at the time of drawing up the power of attorney, and from the situation in which she permitted her family to remain.

But two matters remain, ere I surrender this cause to you. The first is the state of things a few days after the funeral; and the second, the interview between Mr. Recorder M'Ilvaine and the defendant. Let us take them in their order.

Mrs. Smith, who is a lady in every sense of the word, called at Andalusia, I think the day after the funeral. Mrs. Chapman, apologizing for the want of servants, answered the door herself. She was dressed in black, with a white turban

bearing a lilac border: and this little matter struck Mrs. Smith with some surprise; I really don't know why. Grief displays itself very differently in different persons, and in different circumstances. It is not in "customary suits of solemn black" alone, that the heart exhibits its afflictions. Many of the gentlemen whom I have now the honour to address for the first, and perhaps for the last time, are disbelievers in external mourning; and whether they were or were not, they would

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hardly convict a lady of murder, from the colour of her turban. Rely upon it, if she had been the wicked thing they would make her, there would have been no deficiency in what may be called dramatic effect; her error would have been in excess: like the Ephesian dame, she would have swept the very earth with her widowed weeds, and veiled her face in sorrow. Her dress was not affected, her agonies were not eloquent, but they were not the less poignant or sincere :

"The grief that cannot speak,

Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break."

There was one expression, however, of hers, which breathed volumes-that rather escaped from the labouring soul than was uttered by it-that was addressed to no one, though in the presence of Mrs. Smith-and that sounded like the knell of departed hope; departed, never to return. Casting her eye involuntarily upon the heavens, she exclaimed, in a stifled and subdued voice-"The sun-the sun-looks gloomy.' This simple touch of nature unfolded more, much more, than all the studied forms and ceremonies of wo.

Again: Mrs. Smith, though surprised at first, must have been entirely reconciled to her deportment; as she at that time placed her child under the care of the defendant, and shortly after took up her own residence, and that of her husband, under this very roof. I will not weaken these facts by bestowing upon them a single comment.

On the afternoon of the 29th day of August, the Recorder, accompanied by High Constable Blaney and Mr. Reeside, waited upon Mrs. Chapman at her house, The object, as it is stated, was to discover traces of Mina, with reference to his impositions, malpractices and forgeries, while at Washington. Mrs. Chapman, at the time of their arrival, was at church, with her sister, but shortly returned: and the Recorder being invited into the parlour, immediately communicated the purpose of his visit. He knew nothing at this time of her second marriage, and therefore much of her conduct, which with that knowledge he would have easily understood,, appeared to this intelligent gentleman to be extraordinary. He spoke of Mina's character of his falsehoods, of his frauds—and inquired whether she herself had not been plundered and despoiled by him. She hesitated, and denied it—until her letter, which had been intercepted, was produced, recounting a long catalogue of injuries to which she had been subjected. She even then rather appeared to evade or to extenuate the evils she had suffered. But will you here allow me to inquire what course she should have pursued? Irrevocably wedded to a felon-the officers of justice upon his crime-covered track-was she to join in the general cry-was she to hunt down one, to whom, bad as he was, she had plighted her faith? She gave no other information than was extorted from her-and I openly rejoice that she did not. Fidelity is the brightest jewel that adorns the female character; it is the last that woman loses ;-and it would have been an eternal reproach to her sex-it would have been perdition to her, when her vile husband's fate was poised before her, if the whole police of the city, with all their mental racks and tortures, could have extracted from her heaving bosom, a single groan to guess at. Had she then betrayed Mina, infamous and abandoned as he was, it would have supplied to the prosecution the most unanswerable argument of her previous guilt: to betray or to destroy, is but the same principle, differently developed.

Still not knowing the marriage, the Recorder proceeded, fixing his keen and inquisitorial eye upon her at the same time, to inquire whether she had any reason to believe that Mina had contributed to the death of her husband. She changed colour-her face assumed a livid hue-and she appeared for a moment as if she would have sunk to the earth. She recovers, however, and replies-" No-he was his faithful friend: I cannot think it possible he should do any thing so diabolical!"' And yet it is thought this is not a becoming expression of surprise. According to my experience in human nature, it at once expressed surprise, doubt, affection, horror, and all the violent and conflicting emotions which the question was so eminently calculated to excite. But whether it did or not, we do not sit here to decide upon comparative strength of nerve-upon the various results on various individuals, of sudden and unexpected shocks-upon the change of the complexion-or the still more variable forms of passion or expression, depending as often for their character, upon the mind of the observer, as upon that of the observed. Mr. Phillips, in his valuable essay upon the theory of presumptive proof, speaking in reference to

the celebrated case of Captain Donnellan, in which it was alleged that the defend-ant displayed more uneasiness than was even natural to one in his situation, makes these appropriate remarks: "It is a delicate thing to decide this question; it is a nice thing to fix the standard of human feelings, and to say what degree of perturbation an individual already branded with guilt or conviction, shall feel, when placed in circumstances which make him to be suspected of a capital crime. Lawyers, and those accustomed to see and advise with persons in that unfortunate predicament, can only tell the terrible apprehension that every one feels at the idea of being brought to a public trial: it is altogether a new view of human nature, and we seldom estimate rightly, feelings which we have never experienced, nor expect to experience in our own persons, nor have witnessed in those of others:

But I go further than Mr. Phillips, and utterly deny even the competency of those who, from their office, are in the habitual community with guilt, to decide from the expression of the face or the features, upon the impulses of the heart. Nay, more than this, their very knowledge of the worst part of mankind, with whom they are so frequently brought into contact, imbues the mind with jaundiced and unfavourable impressions of our nature, and leads them to detect a felon in every face :-if you are bold, it is the hardihood of confirmed guilt-if you are fearful, it is the timidity of crime. I do not mean to say that every judge of a criminal court may become a Jeffries, because, thank heaven, at this day the moral influence of public opinion provides a salutary restraint; but I do mean to say, that whatever may be the theory of our rights, experience abundantly instructs us, that the moment a charge is preferred against an individual, he bears the stamp of Cain upon his brow, and inverting the best principle in criminal jurisprudence, he is almost uniformly considered to be guilty, till his innocence shall be established; and perhaps even afterwards. In these remarks, no one can suppose that I speak in reference to any individual, much less to the highly respectable and amiable Recorder, for whom I entertain the sincerest personal and professional regard. I speak to human nature and common experience, and I do it the more confidently, as I acknowledge my own liability to the influence I thus deprecate.

In further illustration of this doctrine, I need only advert to the case introduced by my learned and eloquent colleague, of the unfortunate Thomas Harris, as reported in Phillips. In that case, though the defendant was utterly innocent, the fact of his changing colour, and appearing confused, was relied upon as a strong, if not conclusive evidence of crime: yet that very confusion was produced, partly from the consciousness that the fact referred to might operate against him, and partly from the shame incident to a disclosure of his avarice. If, therefore, different causes entirely consistent with innocence of the particular charge, may create shame and consternation-and if sufficient independent cause can be shown, as in the present instance, how obviously unjust must it be, that it should be construed into evidence of the imputed crime. It is like the attempt made by the prosecution in respect to the symptoms of the deceased, inferring, as they have done, an existence of poison, from indications of disease, which were altogether consistent with other, and natural

causes.

As to the evidence of Blaney, but little need be said. It would rather seem, from what he says, that Mrs. Chapman apprized him of the direction of Mina's journey,though the Recorder does not mention it,—as Blaney, it seems, soon after this conversation, wrote to Boston, and succeeded in arresting the offender. But I protest, once for all, against the testimony of such men as Blaney, whether for or against us. He is a police officer, speaking from police reports, or rather from the report of Mr. M'Clean, who was here, and did not condescend to lend his support to the Commonwealth. It is the business of a constable to suspect—and no one can escape him; carrying, as he always does, suspicion in one eye, and à search warrant in the other. Thus, Gentlemen of the Jury, have I attempted showing, in the first place, that no poison was administered; and in the second place, that at all events, it was not administered by this defendant; either of which is sufficient for the purposes of the present case. If the defendant be innocent, it is not for me to show who may be guilty; that is the business of the prosecution. It can impart no gratification to me

wantonly to travel out of the strict line of my duty, to load, or trample upon a fallen fellow creature.

In conclusion, allow me to observe, that to those who have been engaged in this discussion, and to those who shall be engaged in the determination of the present question, this matter of life or death may be a subject of utter indifference and contempt, inasmuch as it is contemplated in relation to others. Clothed in our own imaginary infallibility, what sympathy can be expected from us, by that insulated, hapless being, upon whom our irrevocable decree is about to be pronounced. Sympathy is ever the offspring of a common liability to evil, or susceptibility of good; and what penalty do you fear, or what privilege do you enjoy, in common with an individual who is presented before you, suspected and accused of the most horrible of crimes. The very circumstance of her being placed at that bar, is calculated to provoke involuntary prejudice, and however we may be taught that both justice and mercy should incline us to the belief of innocence while passing upon the fate of a human being, until guilt be unquestionable-experience, as I have already intimated, frequently establishes a widely different practice.

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The law tells us-nature tells us-and humanity abundantly instructs us, that whenever a prisoner stands charged with an offence, and such an offence, instead of substituting the busy rumour, the misty moonshine of malice or prejudice, for the meridian light and fulness of truth, we should patiently await the disclosure of facts which the evidence itself, and the evidence only, can legitimately disclose thereby placing our verdict upon a substantial foundation, which, hereafter, in the hour of deliberate and calm reflection, may remain firm and unshaken. Pause, now while the opportunity is afforded-now, ere it be too late-now, while reflection comes with healing on its wing. Hereafter years and floods of penitence and remorse, can never obliterate or wash away the consequences of an error, which seals for ever, and irretrievably, the defendant's melancholy doom. Considerations of this kind "all plead, like angels, trumpet tongued, in her behalf, and might almost persuade Justice to break her sword."

The charge in the indictment is most horrible and atrocious, it is true: a husband's murder! The strength of the testimony, should be proportionate to its enormity. It can never diminish the horror of the charge, that the innocent should suffer. The defendant nevertheless bows submissively to your pleasure: if such be your terrible decree, let the axe fall; consign her to an ignominious grave, and her children to pitiless orphanage. Return then to your own domestic circle-to your own firesides; and, surrounded by your partners and your offspring, recall and relate the lamentable occurrences of this day's trial: tell them that the popular clamour was too loud and too general to be escaped-the popular prejudice too powerful to be resisted; tell them, that under those influences you have consigned a mother to a timeless grave, and her children to endless ruin: and thereby give them to understand, how frail and feeble is the tenure of human happiness-human characterand human life.

I have now done, Gentlemen of the Jury, and the future destinies of the prisoner are committed to your charge. For herself, conscious as she is, of her own innocence, and advanced as she is in life, she feels comparatively but little. But you will pardon a sister's-and a daughter's—and, above all, a mother's emotions, while confronting that awful tribunal, upon whose stern sentence must depend not only her own prospects, so far as they remain to her-not only her own existence-but, as I have said, the hopes and very existence of those, to her more precious far than life. To your hands, however, we confidently resign her. You are the ministers of the law-the standard-bearers of justice-and she feels assured you will sustain the balance, with a firm and unwavering hand-let which scale may preponderate.

My duty is at last discharged-feebly and imperfectly, I acknowledge; but as fully as my health and limited abilities will allow. It remains for you to fulfil yours. In doing so, let not, I again beseech you, the client suffer for the faults and deficiencies of her counsel; but generously incline your ear to the pleadings of your hearts, and ever bear in dear and sacred remembrance that "mercy is twice blessed -it blesses them that give, and them that take."

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Mr. Ross concluded for the prosecution, as follows: May it please the Court:

Gentlemen of the Jury,

Saturday Afternoon, 4 o'clock.

It becomes my duty, as the prosecuting officer of this County, to conclude this cause on the part of the Commonwealth. The important facts of the case have already been ably and elaborately commented upon by my colleague; and it therefore will be unnecessary for me to consume much more of your time in discharging the sacred trust which has been confided to me: I am well aware of the responsibility under which I act, and of the painful and unpleasant duty, which is imposed upon me. The highest crime known to the laws of the land has been committed-a murder of the deepest and blackest dye has been perpetrated, and I appear before you as the representative of the Coinmonwealth, to ask in her name, that the perpetrator of this horrid deed be surrendered, in order that she may expiate by her life, the crime which has been committed. Such is the solemn and interesting duty which my official situation has imposed upon me; and in the performance of which, I shall be governed solely by what I believe the public justice of the country may require.

Much has been said by my learned friends on the other side, of the "fury" of the prosecution, and of the spirit and the manner in which it has been conducted. I appeal to your Honours on the bench, and to you, Gentlemen of the Jury, whether the counsel for the prisoner, in their zeal to defend their client, have not made an attack upon the prosecution as unjustifiable as it was ungenerous. In what instance has this "fury” been manifested? In what instance has this prosecution been pressed beyond the strict line of public duty? Nay, have we not, with the most tender and sacred regard for the interests of the prisoner, conceded to her every benefit, and extended to her every indulgence which either her counsel or herself had any right to expect? Look, for a moment, at the mass of testimony which has been adduced in evidence, (a great part of which having no relevancy to the matter in issue,) and ask yourselves whether we have not shown every disposition, consistent with our duty to the Commonwealth, to enable the prisoner to establish her innocence. In the honesty and sincerity of my heart, I can truly say, that I would have rejoiced, not only for the honour of human nature, but for the sake of those innocent and helpless children, if, in the course of this investigation, one ray of light had shed its cheering and brightening influence upon the dark and gloomy picture, which has been presented to our view. Who would not hail with pleasure the return of the prisoner at the bar to the bosom of her family, with a character untainted and untouched by the dark suspicion of a crime so unnatural as treason to her husband-to her children and to her God? Who indeed, would not rejoice to see, not only innocence established, but life saved? Certainly no one. It is true that I appear as the counsel for the Commonwealth; but I stand before you with the same independence of action which any other individual of this community enjoys-neither incited by feelings of malice, nor influenced by the hope of reward. Never will I raise my voice in support of a prosecution which I believe to be iniquitous or unjust. Never will I ask for a verdict of conviction, when, after mature and solemn deliberation, I could not lay my hand upon my heart, and pronounce a similar verdict of guilty. I would not plant a thorn in my breast, there to fester, and to rankle, and corrode the peace and happiness of my existence, by becoming the advocate of injustice, and the oppressor of the innocent. But I would prove equally faithless to my trust, and recreant to the cause of justice, if I shrunk from the painful duty of enforcing the rights of the Commonwealth, when her laws were violated, and the blood of a peaceable and unoffending citizen cried aloud for vengeance. Thus influenced, I can assure the counsel for the prisoner, that I shall neither be deterred by their censure, nor seduced by their eloquence, from a conscientious discharge of the important duty which remains to be fulfilled.

The

The duty, Gentlemen, which you are called upon to discharge, is equally solemn and equally responsible. It is a duty, however, which your country-which the safety-nay, the very existence of society, require of you; and for the faithful performance of which you must answer to your God and your own consciences. fate of the prisoner at the bar is placed in your hands. You are not only the arbiters of all she holds dear and sacred in this world, but you are invested to a certain extent, with the power of deciding upon her life or death. Can I therefore urge upon you a stronger motive for dismissing from your deliberations every feeling of