“Yes, your honour,” rejoins Felsh, with a polite bow.  His honour, ordering a glass of water mixed with a little brandy, Mr. Felsh continues:—­“The case, gentlemen, before you, is that of the ’State v.  Nicholas.’  This case, gentlemen, and the committal of the heinous crime for which he stands arraigned before you, has excited no small amount of interest in the city.  It is one of those peculiar cases where intelligence creeps into the property interest of our noble institution-the institution of slavery-makes the property restless, disobedient to the will and commands of the master, disaffected to the slave population, and dangerous to the peace and the progress of the community.  Now, gentlemen” (his honour has dropped into a moderate nap-Mr. Felsh pauses for a moment, and touches him gently on the shoulder, as he suddenly resumes his wonted attention, much to the amusement of those assembled) “you will be told by the witnesses we shall here produce, that the culprit is an exceedingly intelligent and valuable piece of property, and as such might, even now, be made extremely valuable to his master”—­Mr. Grabguy is in court, watching his interests!-"who paid a large sum for him, and was more than anxious to place him at the head of his manufacturing establishment, which office he was fully capable of filling.  Now, gentlemen-his honour will please observe this point-much as I may consider the heavy loss the master will suffer by the conviction of the prisoner, and which will doubtless be felt severely by him, I cannot help impressing upon you the necessity of overlooking the individual loss to the master, maintaining the law, and preserving the peace of the community and stability of our noble institution.  That the state will only allow the master two hundred dollars for his valuable slave you have nothing to do with-you must sink that from your minds, listen to the testimony, and form your verdict in accordance with that and the law.  That he is a dangerous slave, has long maintained a disobedience towards his owner, set the authorities at defiance, attempted to create an insurrection, and made a dangerous assault on a white man-which constitutes a capital offence-we shall now call witnesses to prove.”  The learned gentleman having finished his opening for the prosecution, sits down.  After a moment’s pause, he orders an attendant to bring something “to take"-"Similar to the squire’s!” he ejaculates, hoarsely.

“Gentlemen!” says his honour, as if seized with the recollection of some important appointment, the time for which was close at hand, drawing out his watch, “Call witnesses as fast as possible!  The evidence in this case, I reckon, is so direct and positive, that the case can be very summarily despatched.”

“I think so, too! yer ’oner,” interrupts Terrance M’Quade, starting from his seat among the five jurors.  Terrance has had what in vulgar parlance is termed a “tough time” with several of his own stubborn negroes; and having already heard a deal about this very bad case, is prepared to proclaim him fit only to be hanged.  His honour reminds Terrance that such remarks from a juror are neither strictly legal nor in place.