it-the vase, I mean-into the furnace directly; and I answered to that, All in good time; the furnace is not ready yet; it will go in along with the rest.""

Albert. "Then you did not put it into the furnace immediately after it was left with you?"

Witness. "No, I did not-but that was not my fault -I could not; the furnace was not hot enough."

Albert. "How long do you think it was from the time it was left upon the tray till you put it into the furnace ?"

Witness. "I don't know-I can't be positive: it might be a quarter of an hour, or twenty minutes; or it might be half an hour. I cannot be positive, sir; I cannot be positive."

Albert. "You need not be positive. Nobody wants you to be positive. Nobody wants to entrap you, my good friend. During this quarter of an hour, or twenty minutes, or half an hour, that you speak of, did you ever lose sight of this vase ?"

Witness. "To be sure I did. I did not stand watching it all the while. Why should I? It was safe enough."

Albert. "Do you recollect where you found the vase when you took it to put it into the furnace ?"

Witness. "Yes: it was standing, as it might be here, in the middle of the table."

Albert. "Do you recollect whether it was standing upon the tray or not?"

Witness. "It was not upon the tray, as I recollect: no, I'm sure it was not, for I carried to the furnace first the tray and all that was on it, and then, I remember, I came back for this, which was standing, as I said before, as it might be here, in the middle of the table."

Albert. "Was anybody, except yourself, at the furnace, or in the room, from the time that this vase was brought to you, till you put it into the furnace?"

Witness. "Not as I remember. It was our dinner time. All the men, except myself, were gone to dinner : I staid to mind the furnace."

Albert. "It was you, then, that took this vase off the tray, was it?"

Witness. "No, it was not. I never took it off the tray. I told you it was not upon the tray with the others; I told you it was upon the table, as it might be here."

Albert. "Yes, when you were going to put it into the furnace, you said that you saw it standing in the middle of the table; but you recollect that you saw the workman who brought it put it upon the tray. You told us you remembered that circumstance perfectly." Witness. "Yes, so I do."

Albert. “The vase could not have got off the tray of itself. You did not take it off. How came it off, do you think?"

Witness. "I don't know. I can't tell. Somebody, to be sure, must have taken it off. I was minding the furnace. My back was to the door. I don't recollect seeing anybody come in; but many might have come in and out, without my heeding them.”

Albert. "Take your own time, my good friend. Recollect yourself; perhaps you may remember.”

Witness. "O yes, now you put me upon recollecting, I do remember that Solomon the Jew came in, and asked me where Sophia Mansfeld was; and it certainly must have been he who took the vase off the tray; for, now I recollect, as I looked round once from the furnace I saw him with it in his hand; he was looking at the bottom of it, as I remember; he said, here are some fine verses, or some such thing; but I was minding the furnace. That's all I know about the matter."

Albert. "That is enough."

The next witness who came forward was the husband of Sophia Mansfeld.—He deposed, that on the 29th of April, the day on which the Prussian vase was finished, as stated by the former evidence, and sent to be put into the furnace, he met Sophia Mansfeld in the street: she was going home to dinner. He asked to see the vase: she said that it was, she believed, put into the furnace, and that he could not then see it; that she was sorry he had not come sooner, for that he could have written the inscription on it for her, and that would have spared her the shame of telling Count Laniska that she could not read or write. She added, that the count had written all that was wanting for her. The witness, being impatient to see the vase, went as fast as he could to the manufactory, in hopes of getting a sight of it before it was put into the furnace. He met Solomon the Jew at the door of the manufactory, who told him that he was too late, that all the vases were in the furnace; he had ust seen them put in. The Jew as the witness now

recollects, though it did not strike him at the time, was eager to prevent him from going into the furnace room. Solomon took him by the arm, and walked with him up the street, talking to him of some money which he was to remit to Meissen, to Sophia Mansfeld's father and mother.

Albert asked the witness on whose account this money was to be remitted by the Jew to Meissen.

Witness. "The money was to be remitted on Sophia Mansfeld's account."

Albert. "Did she borrow it from the Jew?"

Witness. "No; the Jew owed it to her for work done by her. She had the art of painting on glass. She had painted some glasses for a large magic lantern, and several small pictures on glass. She did these things at the hours when she was not obliged to be at the manufactory. She rose very early in the morning, and worked hard. She sold her work to the Jew upon condition that he would remit the price agreed upon to her father and mother, who were old, and depended on her for support."

Albert. "Was the money punctually remitted to her father and mother by the Jew?"

Witness. "Not a farthing of it was remitted by him, as Sophia discovered since her return to Meissen."

Albert. "Did you ever hear this Jew say any thing about Sophia Mansfeld's returning to Saxony?"

Witness." 'Yes; I once heard the Jew say that he hoped she never would leave Berlin, because she was of great use to him. He advised me to settle in Berlin. This passed about six weeks ago. About a week before the prize was decided by the king, I met the Jew, and told him Sophia had good hopes of getting back to Saxony. He looked very much vexed, and said, ⚫ She is not sure of that.""

Albert. “Did you ever hear this Jew speak of Count Laniska ?"

Witness. "Yes, about two months ago I saw him in the street when I was speaking to Solomon, and I asked the Jew who he was. He answered,‘He is the Count Laniska a man that I hate, and on whom I will be revenged some time or other.' I asked why he hated the count. The Jew replied, 'Because the Christian dog has made the corps of Jews his laughing-stock. This day, when my son was going through his manual exer

cise before the king, Count Laniska was holding his sides with laughter. I'll be revenged upon him some time or other.'

Albert. "I have no occasion, sir, to trouble you with any further questions."

The next witness who appeared was a druggist of Berlin. He deposed, that on the 30th of April Solomon the Jew came to his shop and asked for blue paints; that, after trying the colours very carefully upon the back of a letter, which he took out of his pocket, he bought a small quantity of a shade of blue, which the witness produced in court.

Albert ordered that the paint should be handed to the gentlemen of the jury, that they might compare it with the blue ground of the Prussian vase. With this it was found, upon comparison, to match exactly.

Albert to the druggist. "Do you know what became of the paper upon which you say the Jew tried your colours?"

Witness. "Yes; here it is. I found it under the counter, after the Jew went away, and I kept it to return to him, as I saw there was an account on the other side of the paper, which I imagined he might want. He never happened to call at my shop afterward, and I forgot that I had such a paper, till you, sir, called upon me about a week ago, to make inquiry on this subject. You desired me to keep the paper carefully, and not to let any one know that it was in my possession till the day on which the trial of Count Laniska was to come on. I have complied with your request, and here is the paper."

The paper was handed to the jury; and one of the shades of blue exactly matched that of the ground of the Prussian vase. Albert now called upon the Jew to produce, once more, the handkerchief with which he had rubbed off the paint. The chain of evidence was now complete, for the blue on the handkerchief was precisely the same as the colours on the paper and on the vase. After the jury had satisfied themselves of this resemblance, Albert begged that they would read what was written upon the paper. The first thing that struck their eyes was the word tyrant frequently repeated, as if by some one who had been practising to write different hands. One of these words was an exact resemblance of the word tyrant on the Prussian vase: and Albert

pointed out a circumstance which had till now escaped attention, that the letter r in this word was made differently from all the r's in the rest of the inscription. The writing of the Count Laniska had, in every other respect, been successfully imitated.

After Albert had shown these things to the jury, he here closed the evidence in favour of the prisoner, observing that the length of time which the trial had lasted seemed to have somewhat fatigued both the judge and jury; and knowing that it was now their usual hour of dinner, he prudently forbore to make a long speech upon the evidence which had been laid before them in favour of his friend: he left it to their own understandings to determine the balance of probabilities between the honour of Count Laniska and the honesty of Solomon

the Jew.

The judge, in a manner which would have done honour even to the English bench, summed up the evidence on both sides, and gave a distinct and impressive charge to the jury, who, without leaving the court, gave a verdict in favour of the prisoner. Loud acclamations filled the hall. In the midst of these acclamations, the word "Silence!" was pronounced by that voice which never failed to command instantaneous obedience in Prussia All eyes turned upon the monarch.

"This court is now dissolved," said his majesty. "My judgment confirms the verdict of the jury. Count Laniska, I took your sword from you too hastily. Accept of mine in its stead." And as he pronounced these words, Frederick ungirded his sword, and presented it to the young count. "As for you, sir," continued the king, addressing himself to Albert, "you want no sword for the defence of your friends. Your arms are superior to ours. Let me engage them in my service; and trust me, I shall not leave them long unemployed, or unre warded."

There was but one person present to whom this speech seemed to give no satisfaction. This person was Solomon the Jew, who stood apart, waiting in black silence to learn his own fate. He was sentenced, not to a year's imprisonment in the castle of Spandau, but to sweep the streets of Potsdam (including the court in front of Count Laniska's palace) for a twelvemonth.

After having heard this sentence, which was universally approved, the spectators began to retire