apon the indictment, not as criminal, but as prosecutor. His garments are wet with the blood of those upon whose deaths you hold this solemn inquest. Yonder he sits, allaying for a moment the hunger of that fierce vulture, conscience, by casting before it the food of pretended regret, and false, but apparent eagerness for justice. He hopes to appease the manes of his slaughtered victims--victims to his falsehood and treachery-by sacrificing upon their graves a hecatomb of innocent men. By base misrepresentations of the conduct of the defendants, he induced his imprudent friends to attempt a vindication of his pretended wrongs, by violence and bloodshed. His clansmen gathered at his call, and followed him for vengeance; but when the fight began, and the keen weapons clashed in the sharp conflict-where was this wordy warrior?—Aye, "Where was Roderick then?" No "blast upon his bugle horn" encouraged his companions as they were laying down their lives in his quarrel: no gleam of his dagger indicated a desire to avenge their fall-with treacherous cowardice he left them to their fate; and all his vaunted courage ended in ignominious flight.

Sad and gloomy is the path that lies before him. You will in a few moments dash, untasted, from his lips the sweet cup of revenge; to quaff whose intoxicating contents he has paid a price that would have purchased the goblet of the Egyptian queen. I behold gathering around him, thick and fast, dark and corroding cares. That face, which looks so ruddy, and even now is flushed with shame and conscious guilt, will from this day grow pale, until the craven blood shall refuse to visit his haggard cheek. In his broken and distorted sleep, his dreams will be more fearful than those of the "false, perjured Clarence;" and around his waking pillow, in the deep hour of night, will fit the ghosts of Rothwell and of Meeks, shrieking their curses in his shrinking ear.

Upon his head rests not only all the blood shed in this unfortunate strife, but also the soul-killing crime of perjury; for, surely as he lives, did the words of craft and falsehood fall from his lips, ere they were hardly loosened from the Holy Volume. But I dismiss him, and do consign him to the furies-trusting, in all charity, that the terrible punishment he must suffer from the

scorpion-lash of a guilty conscience will be considered in his last

account.

Johnson and Oldham, too, are murderers at heart. But I shall make to them no appeal. There is no chord in their bosoms which can render back music to the touch of feeling. They have both perjured themselves. The former cut up the truth as coolly as if he had been carving meat in his own stall. The latter, on the contrary, was no longer the bold and hot-blooded knight; but the shrinking, pale-faced witness. Cowering beneath your stern and indignant gaze, marked you not how "his coward lip did from its color fly;" and how his quailing eye sought from floor to rafter protection from each honest glance.

It seems to me that the finger of Providence is visible in the protection of the defendants. Had this affair occurred at Mr. Redding's Coffee House, instead of the Galt House, nothing could have saved them. Their lives would have been sworn away, without remorse, by Redding and his gang. All that saved them from sacrifice was the accidental presence of gentlemen, whose testimony cannot be doubted, and who have given an honest and true account of the transaction.

Gentlemen of the Jury:—I shall detain you no longer. It was, in fact, a matter of supererogation for me to address you at all, after the lucid and powerful exposition of the case, which has been given by my respected friend, Col. Robertson. It was doubly so, when it is considered that I am to be succeeded by a gentleman (Judge Rowan), who, better, perhaps, than any other man living, can give you, from his profound learning and experience, a just interpretation of the laws of your State; and in his own person, a noble illustration of that proud and generous character which is a part of the birthright of a Kentuckian.

It is true, I had hoped, when the evidence was closed, that the Commonwealth's attorney might have found it in accordance with his duty and his feelings to have entered, at once, a nolle prosequi. Could the genius of "Old Kentucky" have spoken, such would have been her mandate. Blushing with shame at the inhospitable conduct of a portion of her sons, she would have hastened to make reparation.

Gentlemen-Let her sentiments be spoken by you. Let your

verdict take character from the noble State which you in part represent. Without leaving your box, announce to the world that here the defence of one's own person is no crime; and that the protection of a brother's life is the subject of approbation, rather than of punishment.

Gentlemen of the Jury:-I return you my most profound and sincere thanks for the kindness with which you have listened to me, a stranger, pleading the cause of strangers.

Your generous and indulgent treatment I shall ever remember with the most grateful emotions.

In full confidence that you, by your sense of humanity and justice, will supply the many defects in my feeble advocacy, I now resign into your hands the fate of my clients. As you shall do unto them, so, under like circumstances, may it be done unto you.

Return to Vicksburg-Resumes the Practice of Law-Letters-Is solicited to become a Candidate for the Senate of the United States-Correspondence on the Subject-Letter to the Whigs of Madison County-Interest felt in the Election in other Parts of the Country-Letter to him from J. J. Crittenden-The CanvassLetters.

ET. 30. 1839.

THE following letters will show with what satisfaction Mr. Prentiss turned his back upon politics, and devoted himself again to the practice of his profession. His very chirography betokens how grateful to him was the change. Most of his Washington letters were evidently scribbled off in a hurry; but no sooner did he find himself alone, once more, in his office at Vicksburg, than his handwriting becomes careful, clear, and indicative of a mind at rest.

то HIS SISTER ABBY.

VICKSBURG, March 24, 1839.

MY DEAR SISTER:

I got home on yesterday, in good health, though somewhat fatigued with the journey. I stopped a week in Kentucky, to assist in the defence of Judge Wilkinson and his friends, who were tried on an indictment for murder, arising out of an affray which occurred at Louisville during the winter, and an exaggerated account of which you doubtless saw in the newspapers. Judge Wilkinson is an old friend of mine; you may recollect, he called and took tea with me several years ago, at Mrs. H-'s, in New York, at the time you were there. I

was very much gratified in complying with his request, notwithstanding my anxiety to get home. The trial took place at Harrodsburg, and resulted in the entire acquittal of the Judge and his friends, it appearing in evidence that they acted wholly in self-defence, against a number of men who had conspired together for the purpose of beating them. You will probably see some account of the trial in the newspapers. Times are very severe in Mississippi, and I fear will be still worse. There is no business doing, except in law, which is flourishing enough-too much so for the good of the people. I am going immediately into the practice, and shall have as much as I can attend to. You can hardly imagine my pleasure at being relieved from political obligations and labors, and returning to my professional pursuits. Indeed, I much prefer the practice of law to the practice of politics. I have not seen Judge Guion yet, and cannot, therefore, inform you whether he will visit Portland this summer. If he does not, of course I shall, for the purpose of bringing out Anna to spend the winter here, as I believe it is already understood. I am now waiting for a boat to go about one hundred miles up the river to attend a court, where I have a very important case. So, you see, I am going back to my profession right zealously.

As soon as I return, which will be in a week, I shall write again, and more at length. By-the-by, I saw S. at Cincinnati, for a few moments only; he was in fine health and spirits. I am quite impatient to hear from you, and hoped to find letters here, but was disappointed. I think I hear a boat coming up the river, so I must be off. Good-bye. My love to you all. Your affectionate brother,

то HIS YOUNGEST BROTHER.

SEARGENT.

VICKSBURG, April 28, 1839.

DEAR GEORGE :

:

I suppose my next letter will have to be addressed

to you across the Atlantic. You must advise with some intelli