Locomotive, Volume 32, Number 8, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 April 1855 — Page 1

jiii..;iriiii ii i, ' .., , - , i i , . 1 . - - - - - . i. . jui l .ju 'mm

, -v, y; ''"-"i.-piWa---.--- . ir.i- "'"yg" JOHN R. ELDER, Editor. "The Chariots shall rage In the streets, they shall seem like torches, they shall run like the lightnings." A'oiuni.ii, 4. ELDER & HARKNESS.Pnbliahers.

VOL.. XXXII.

; . : THE LOCOMOTIVEIS PRINTED AND PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY -BY ELDER, & BARENESS, At their Book and Job Printing Office, on Meridian Street Indianapolis, Ind., opposite the Post Offioe, -' TKRMS: One Dollarayoar. Twonty-flve Conts forthree months. Sixoopios to one addresi fur one year, Five Dollars; thirteen copiosone your for Ton Dollars, JO0 m advanck m ali, casks. .JJI No paper will be sent until paid for, and no paper will be continued aftertbetlmepuld forexplres, unless the subscription is renewed. Look out roa thi Cross. All mall and county subscribers an kuow thoirtimo Is out when thoy see a large crobs marked n thoirpapor.and thatiaalways thelastpapersont uutilthe ubscriptiou is renewed. TERMS OF iBJIRtlllH! One Square, (8 lines, orloss, 230 mi,) for 1 week 0.50 , " . 4 foreachsulseo,uonlingerllon, 0.ii5 " " for throe months, ...... 3. U0 '' forsix months, 5-,lu ', . for one year, without alteration, 8.00 . (i u . forone year, with frequent ehunges, 112.00 , A small reduction mado on larger advertisement!. Cuts and Special Notices double the above rates. Jf Advertisement! must bs handedm by Thursday of sac veektortaey wiiioenejerrea bhihuiibwhiiih. Printers Ink! ttte havo Just received, direct from the Manufactory o WW Tiiliu Cr. Lio-litbodv. a fresh supply of Summer Ink, which will bo sold in the following sized kegs, and at the fololwiug prices'. NKWS INK 23 Cents ver It, : 19 H, and keg, - 3-50 Si lbs and keg, - : - S.5 54 fcs and kef:, - - - ..... . MM In half burrels, of 100 Its, no oharge for kegs. NEWS INK NO. I 30 Cents per fc: 21 n, a and keg, - - - S(i.80 54ltsandkeg, - - - 810.13 100 Its, (no charge for kog.) - - - - 30.U0 BOOK INK 40 Cents per fc: 12 fcsandkeg, - - - $3.30 21 lb and kog, .- - - 88.90 FINE BOOK INK 50 Cents per ft: 31 Its and keg, - r ' - ' ' $ll.no FINE CARD INK: " ' i In land 2 It cans, at $1.00 per It. ' ' . COLORED INKS: ' ' Red, Blue, and Green, in half pound cans, at $1.50 percan. All orders accompanied with the cash, will be promptly attended to. Address, JSLDKK & HAKKNJiSS, , , Agents for Lightbodys Inks, Indianapolis, Ind. Stove) Plowtt Ac, Ac. JUST received a large and gonoral assortment of Cooking and Parlor Stoves, which are unsurpassed by any in the market. Among our Cook Stoves may be found facilic, Triumph, Buckevo State. Hay State, Empire State, Hoosier State, Queen City, Prize Primium, Ohio Premium, Oregon, California, Pheonix, and Cleveland Air Tight; also, a. groat variety of Parlor Rtovos and Coul Grates; also, a general assortment of Steel Plows, kept constantly for sale, waranted of the best quality. Tin-Ware constantly kept on hand, wholesale and retail. All kinds of Tin, Copper, and Shee. tron work done to order. Those wanting anything in our line, will do well to give us a call before purchasing elsewhere, at the sign of the Gilt Ball, south side of Washington Street, near the Masonic Hall. oetl-y R. L. & A. W. McOUAT. en prreut pains in seloMino- hia MnrhlA. I in !i ?! i" ij oe not Herniate in & i;- v J aajrlnjs that ho-has now .1 iMJiilffl , nnd best ansortiiiont of l.,:;;.:::l.. .I.i,.., .t,:,,;..,!.!, Marble ever brought West of the State of Vermont, and is daily receiving new supplies. He most respectfully invites the public to cull and examine his stock and work, as he is prepared to furnish anything in the Monument, Tomb, and Head Stone line, that may be desired, on the most reasonable terms. He feels assured that he can give perfect satisfaction in the finishing' of his work as he has in his employ among the best of workmen from, the most fashionable establishments in the eastern cities. Those who wish to perpetuate the memory of those who were near and dear to them, will find it to their interests to call at No. 67 "Washington street, opposite A. Wallace's store, before purchasing elsewhere, i . . He would say to the trade, that they can make it to their interest to cull and examine his stock, as he is prepared to wholesale at prices that will be satisfactory. - All orders sent by mail, or otherwise, from different portions of the State, for finished work, will receive prompt attention, and the work forwarded on at the earliest opportunity. Remember No. 67 Washington street, Indianapolis, Ind. nov4-6m ' JOHN DUSTMAN. MEW ARKANGKlffENT TO TAKE I3FFECT 3IONDAY, July 249 1854. 77 pnfnq INDIANAPOLIS AND CINCINNATI H'ife RAILROAD, Connecting with the Ohio and Mississippi Kaiiroad, by Special Train. No detention on this route by waiting for other trains! Through to Cincinnati in 4i hours. r The only direct route to Cincinnati, being 30 miles shorter and H hours quicker than any oilier route. Lightning Express Train leaves Union Depot at 11 A. M., and arrives at Cincinnati at 3 P. M., only stopping at Shelbyvine, Greensburgh and Lawrenceburgh; dine at Shelby ville. Chicago Mail Train leaves at 4 P. M., aftr the arrival of the Chicago" train and arrives at Cincinnati at 9$ P. M., supper at Greensburgh. Fare to Cincinnati, $3.00 Baggago checked through. Through tickets can be procured at Union Depot, over this route to New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Pittsburgh, Columbus, O., and Wheeling, via the Little Miami Railroad. Passengers taking the 11 A. M. train, arrive in Cincinnati In time to take the 5 P. M. trains for the East. , ' july29 T, A. MORRIS, Pres't: GREAT CENTRAL AND EASTERN ROUTE. INDIANA CENTRAL RAILWAY, 1855.- mmsm NEW ARRANGEMENT. .1855. IVewHonte to Cincinnati anil Dayton, Co. l lmnbusl Cleveland) Pittsburgh 5 1'iiiluuelphiiiand New York, On and alter Thursday, August 17, 1854, Passenger Trainswill run as follows, Sundays excepted: , - Two Trains dally, each way. Morning Express leave Indianapolis at 5.45, A. M. Passengers leaving in 5.45 A. M. train arrive in Cincinnati at 11.45 A. M., in Dayton at 10.40 A. M., in Columbus at 2.30 P. M., in Clevelaud at 0.45 P. M. Mail train leaves Indianapolis at 12 M. Passengersleaving in 12 M. truiti arrive in Cincinnati at 6.30 P.M., in Dayton in 5.00 P. M. Passengers for Columbus, Newark, and Zanesville,by taking the 12 M. train arrive in Dayton at 5.00 ; in Columbus at 9.45 P. M., being six hours in advance of all other Routes. Passengers taking 12 M. train arrive in Cincinnati at 6.30 P.M. Passengers leaving Indianapolis at 12 M. for Dayton, Columbas, Crestline, Pittslmrg, Philadelphia, and Now York, arrive in Dayton at 5.00 P. M., in Columbus at 9.45 P. M., at Crestline 12 at night, in time to connect with tlie night train on Ohio and Pennsylvania Road, for -Pittsburg, Philadelphia, and N. York. No change of guage or cars to Dayton. Passengers save by this route28 miles to Dayton, and 511 miles 'o Columbus, Pittsburg, or Wheeling, over any other Kailroad route. , , & . ' Tri!-1811 ti5lcets can be procured at the office, in the Depot. .,iJr i i"ate1n BWge Checked to Buffalo; Pittsburg, Philadelphia and Hew York Baggage to Pittsburg. As regards Freight. Inquire of JAMES M. SMITH, Supt. jan7 BKADSHaW, Freight Agent., THE CHEAT EASTERN IIOUTE, 1855.:;-v M V .1855 INDIANAPOLIS, BFLIJS FONTAINE AND (kvrlaiji') RAILROAD. " ' , . CONIVNECTING at this place With trains from Lafayette. Terre Haute, Jeffersonville, and Madiaon. Passengers will dnd this the cheapest, shortest, quickest and most comfortable route to Davton, Springfield, Urbanna, Bellefontame, Columbus, Cleveland, Pittsburg, Dunkirk BufWashiiVno'n' Yrk' Boston' Philadelphia, Ballimoro.and uTrt'f rai8,le,lTe Indianapolis daily (Sundays excepted). M ionn . .F,.ph EPress '"ves the Union Depot at 6 A. Bellefomw, U?ion,w.ith TrBin for 1)a)ton a"d Cincinnati; at at GaUion wiMW'rh ,Trai" for sndW, Toledo, and Detroit; a 7 same J, J""" ?r Columb"; and arrive in Cleveland Lake Shora H S' IV ' con"ct at Cleveland with the kuowuhth1 rdaa ka'rax-uvAM earlv same ,,iM. xpress t rain, and arrive in New York feaviVTndapofis. P"S8enSe" , thistrain breakfast before M-'makT,w8.tiMailTrai" leavehe Union Depot at 12.45 P. M. making the way-connections arrivinr in Cleveland , more Vor"-aUo for Pittsburg, Philadelphia and BaltiPash, "foarnCoei,?nfKCUredK the offi in tha DePtH rPassengers for Columbus, by taking 6 A. M. train via. Bellcfontaine. arrive at Columbus at 5 same afternoon rare x nrougn. !4 00 J. NOTTINGHAM, Super'intendant, , .. ,. ,oto l'Jlce nearthe Union Depot, Indianapolis 1853. oct29-tf

" GREAT WESTErS JIAHBLE YARD. - f jcffijfl?'- THE UDERS1GNED Fifl fM-MmfSififoX method of m'T-'SS, to ft, mJMmfflmO public to his largo OrSa. m)&f!Cfflii4 selected stock je0mitimfSmt MARBLE. Having &??m Wi'4 Mi feflV'st returned from the JAwi Baat, where ho has JMlWV ent quarries and mill.

mmW$i'9 W W ilKMSIk in New York and Ver

mont, and having tak-

INDIANAPOLIS,

MY CONFESSION. I had always been a passionate boy. Tlif A said I was almost a fiend at times. At others was mild and loving;. My father could not manage me at home; so I was sent to school. I was more flogged, both at home and at school, than any one I ever knew or heard of. It was incessant flogging. It was the best way they knew of to educate and correct me. I remember to this day how my father and my master used to say, "they would flog the devil out of me." This phrase was burnt at last into my very being. I bore it always consciously about with me. I heard it so often that a dim kind of notion came into my mind that I really was possessed by a devil, and that they were right to try and scourge it out of me. ..This was a very vague feelinar ,at first. After events made it more definite. t Time went on in the old way. I was forever doing wrong, and forever under punishment terrible punishment that left my body woundedand hardened my heart into stone. I have bitten my tongue until it was black and swolen, that I might not say I repented of what I had done, Repentance, then, was synonymous with cowardice and shame. ' At last it grew into a savage pride of endurance. I gloried in my sufferings; for I knew that I camo the conqueror out of them. The masters might flog me till I fainted; but they could not subdue me. ,. My constancy was greater than their tortures, and my firmness superior to their will. , Yes, they were forced to acknowledge it I conquered them; the devil would not be scourged out of me at their bidding; but remained with me at mine.' When I look back to this time of my boyhood, I seem to look over a wide expanse of desertland swept through with fiery storms. Passions of every kind convulsed my mind; unrest and mental turmoil, strife and tumult, and suffering never ceasing; this is the picture of my youth whenever I turn it from the dark wall of the past, But it is foolish to recall this now. Even at my age, chastened and sobered as I am, it makes my heart bound with the old passionate throb again, when I remember the torture and the feverof my boyhood. i , , r Iliad few school friends.' The boys were afraid of me, very naturally, and shrank from any intimacy with one under such a potent ban as I. I resented this, and fought my way savagely against them. One only, Herbert Ferrars, was kind to me, and he alone was loved in return; Loved as you may well believe a boy of warm affections, such as I was, in spite of all my intemperance of passion, isolated from all and shunned by all would love any one such, as Herbert!, He was the Royal Boy of the school; the noblest; the loved of all masters and play-i mates alike; the chief of all; clever; likeayoung Apollo among the herdsmen; supreme in the grace and vigor of his manhood. I never knew one so unselfish so clfted and so strivinrjr, so Iovinar and so just, so gentle and so strong. ' We were tnends tirm, last mends. I he other boys and the Ushers, and the masters, too, warned Herbert airainst me.. . They told him continually that I should do him no good, and might harm him in many ways. But he was faithful, and suffered no one to come between us. I had never been angry with Herbert. A word, or look, joining in the humor of the moment, would rouse me into a perfect fiend against any one else; but Herbert's voice and manner soothed me under every excitement. In any paroxysm of rage the very worst I was gentle to him; and 1 had never known yet the fit of fury which had not yielded to his remonstrance. I had grown almost to look on him as my good angel against that devil whom the rod could not scourge out of me. .. ; We were walking on the cliffs one day, Herbert and I, for we lived by the seaside. And indeed I think that wild sea made me fiercer than I should else have been. The cliffs where we were that day were high and rugged; in some places going down sheer and smoothe into the sea, in others jagged and rough; but always dangerous. Even the samphire gatherers dreaded them. They were of crumbling sandstone, that broke away under the hands and feet; for we had often climbed the practicable parts, and knew that great masses would crumble and break under our grasp, like mere gravel heaps. ' Herbert and I stood for a short time close to the edge of the highest cliff Haglin's Crag it was calledlooking down at the sea, which was at high tide, and foaming wildly about the rocks. The wind was very strong, though the sky was almost cloudless; it roared round the cliffs, and lashed the waves into a surging foam, that beat furiously against the base, and brought down showers of earth and sand with each blow as it struck. The sight of all this life and fury of nature fevered my blood and excited my imagination to the highest. A strange desire seized me. I wanted to clamber down the face of the cliffs to the very base and dip myself in the white waves foaming round them. It was a wild fancy, but I could not conquer it, though I tried to do so; and I felt equal to its accomplishment. "Herbert, lam going down the cliff;" I said, throwing my cap on the ground. . . . : "Nonsense, Paul," said Herbert, laughing. He did not believe me, and thought I was only in jest, i 1 When, however, he saw that I was serious, and that I did positively intend to attempt this danger, he opposed me in his old manner of gentleness and love; the manner which had hitherto subdued me like a magic spell. He told me that it was my certain death that I was rushing' into, and he asked me affectionately to desist. I was annoyed at his opposition. For the first time his voice had no power over me; for the first time his entreaties fell dead on my ears. Scarcely hearing Herbert, scarcely seeing him, I leant over the cliffs; the waves singing to me as with a human voice; when I was suddenly pulled back, Herbert saying to me, angrily: ; , "Paul, are you mad? Do you think I will stand by and see you kill yourself ?" -: He tore me from the cliff. It was a strain like physical anguish when I could no longer see the waters. I turned against him savagely, and tried to shake off his hand. But he threw his arms round me, and held me firmly, and the feeling of constraint, or imprisonment, overcame my love. I could not bear personal restraint even from

IND , SATURDAY, APRIL 14, 1855.

'him His young, slight arms seemed like leaden "'chains about me; he changed to the hideousness of a jailor his opposing love to the insolence of a tyrant. I called hoarsely to him to him to let me free; but he still clunj; round me. Again I called; again ho withstood me; and then I struggled witl"him. My .teeth were set fast my hands clenched the strength of a strongman was in me. I seized him by the waist as I would lift a young child, and hurled him from me. God help met I did not see in what direction, ', It was as if a shadow had fallen between me and the sun, so that I could see nothing in its natural light. There was no light, and there was no color. The sun was as blight overhead as before; the grass lay at my feet as gleaming as before; the waves flung up their sparkling showers; the wind tossed the branches full of leaves, like boughs of glittering gems, as it had tossed them ten minutes ago; but I saw them all indistinctly now, through the veil, the mist of this darkness. , The shadow was upon me that has never k-ft'mo since. , Day and night it has followed me; day and night its chill lay on my heart. A' voice sounded unceasingly within me, "Murder, and a lost soul, forevej; and ever!" . I turned from the cliff' 'resolutely, and went toward home. Not a limb failed me, not a moment's weakness was on nie. I went home with the intention of denouncing myself as the murderer of my friend; and I was calm because I felt that his death would then be avenged I hoped for the most potent degradation possible to humanity. My only desire was to avenge the murder of my friend on myself, his murderer; and I walked along quickly that I might overtake the slow hours, and gain the moment of expiation, i. . " I went straight, to the master's room. He spoke to me harshly, and ordered me out of his sight; as he did whenever I came before him. , I told him authoritatively to listen to me; Iliad something to say to him; and my manner, I suppose, struck him, for he turned round to me again, and told me to speak, What had I to say.' I began by stating briefly that Herbert had fallen down Haglin's crag; and then I was about to add that it was I who had flung him down, though unintentionally, when whether it was mere faintness, to this day I do not know I fell senseless to the earth. And for weeks I remained senseless with brain fever, from, it was believed, the terrible shock my system had undergone at seeing my dearest friend perish so miserably before my eyes. This belief helped much to soften men's hearts and to ive me a place in their sympathy; never given to me before. ' When 1 recovered, that i.ark shadow still clung silently to me; 'and wheuovef I attempted to speak the truthand the secret always hung clogging on my tongue the same scene ' was gone through as before; I was struck down by an invisible hand, and reduced perforce to silence. I knew then that I was shut out from expiation as I had shut myself out from reparation in my terrible deed. Day and night! always haunted with a fierce thought of sin, and striving helplessly to express it. ' ' I had come now to that time in my life when I must choose a profession. . I resolved to become a physician from the feeling of making such reparation to humanity as I was able, for the life I had destroyed. I thought if I could save life, if I could alleviate suffering, and bring blessing instead of affliction, that I might somewhat atone for , my guilt. If not to the individual, yet to humanity at large, No one ever clung to a profession with more ardor than I undertook the study of medicine; for it seemed to me my only way of salvation, if indeed that were yet possible a salvation to be worked out not only by chastisement and control of my passions, but by active good among my fellow-men. I shall never forget the first patient I attended. It was a painful case, where there was much suffering; and to the relations to that poor mother above all bitter anguish. The child had been given over by the doctors; and I was called in as the last untried, from despair, not from hope; I ordered anew remedy; one that few would have the courage to prescribe. The effect was almost miraculous, and, as the little one breathed freer, and that sweet soft sleep of healing crept over her, the thick darkness hanging round me had lightened perceptibly. Had 1 solved the mystery of my future? By work and charity should I come out into the light again? and could deeds of reparation dispel that darkness which a mere objectless punisment a mere mental repugnance could not touch? " ., This experience gave me renewed courage; I devoted myself more ardently to my profession, chiefly among the poor, and without remuneration. Had I ever accepted money, I believe that all my power would have gone. ' And as I saved more and more lives, and lightened more and more the heavy burden of human suffering, the dreadful shadow grew fainter. I was called suddenly to a dying lady. No name was given me, neither was her station in life nor her condition told me. I hurried off without caring to ask questions; careful only to heal. When I reached the house, I was taken into a room where she lay in a fainting fit on the bed. Even before I ascertained her malady with that almost second sight of a practised physician her wonderful beauty struck me. Not merely because it was beauty, but because it was a face strangely familiar to me, though new; strangely speaking of a former love: although in my practice, I had never loved man or woman individually..., ... I roused the lady from her faintness; but not without much trouble. It was more like death than : swooning, and yielded to my treatment stubbornly. I remained with her for manv hnnrsbut when I left her she was better. .1 was obliged to leave her, to atted a Door workhousr was

child. ' ' ; " -. . .. er"Hniel " I had not been gone long carrying with, that fair face lying in its death-like trance, er.T

all its golden bair scattered wide over the r?turnlng and the blue lids weighing down the eyes, jFourieresirries the rememhrni nf a wct crmil rjhilososunr carryino; it, too. as a talisman ao-ailopiiff dread shadow which somehow huna; clositualism, to-ni('ht; the darkness, too, deepc aon-my conclu original fclackness, and the chill ly'so referred to

my heart again when a messenger hurried after me, telling me the lady was dying, and I was to go back immediately. I wanted no second bidding. In a moment, as it seemed to me, I was in her room again. It was dark. The lady was dying now, paralysed from her

leet upwards. 1 saw the death-rimr mount hiL'h G ' ft I cr and higher that faint, blush ring with whiclii death marries some of his brides. I bent every energy, every thought to the combat. I ordered remedies so strange to the ordinary rules of medicine, that it was with difficulty the chemist would prepare them. She opened her eyes full upon me, and the whole room was filled with the cry of "Murderer!" They thought the lady had spoken feverishly in her death-trance. I alone knew from whence that cry had come. But I would not yield, and I never quailed, nor feared for the result. I knew the power I had to battle with, and I kngwj too, the powers I wielded. They saved Jji? The blood circulated again through hep veins, the faintness gvadually dispersed, the smitten side flung off its para.lystsfand the blue ring faded wholly from her limbs. The lady recovered under my care. And care, such as mothers lavish on their children, I poured like life- blood on her. I knew that her pulses beat at my bidding, I knew that I had given her back her life, which else had been forfeit, and that 1 was her preserver. . I almost worshipped her. It was the worship of my whole being the tide into which the pent-up sentiment ot my long years of unloving philanthropy poured like a boundless flood.' It was my lue that 1 gave her my destiny that I saw in her my deliverer from the curse of sin, as I had been hers from the power of death. I asked no more than to be near her, to see her, to hear her voice, to breathe the same air with her, to guard and protect her. I never asked mvself whether I loved as other men or no; I never dreamed of her loving me airain. I did not even know her name nor her condition:, she was simply the Lady to me the one and only woman of my world. 1 never cared to analyse more than this. My love was part of my innermost being, and I could as soon have imagined the earth without its sun as my life without the lady. Was this love such as other men feel? I know no. I only know there were no hopes such as other men have. . I did not question my own heart of the future: I only knew of love I did not ask for happiness. ' One day I went to see her as usual. She was well now; but I still kept up my old habit of visiting her for . her health. . I sat by her for a long time this day, wondering, as I so often wondered, who it was that she resembled, and where I had met her before, and how; for I was certain that I had seen her some tune in thJ past.' She' was lying back in an easy chair how well I remember it all ! enveloped in a cloud of white drapery. A sofa-table was drawn along the side of her chair, with one drawer partly open. Without any intention of looking, I saw that it was filled with letters, in two different handwritings, and that two miniature cases were lying among them. -An open letter, in which lay a tress of sun-bright hair, was on her knee. It was written in a hand that made me start and quiver. I knew the writing though at the moment I could not recognize the writer. " Strongly agitated, 1 took the letter in my hand. The hair fell across my fingers. The darkness gathered close and heavy, and there burst from me the self accusing cry of "Murderer!" ."No, not murdered," said the lady, sorrowfully. "He was killed by accident. This letter is from him my dear twin-brother Herbert writteh the very day of his death. But what can outweigh the blessedness of death while we are innocent of sin!" As she spoke, for some strange fancy she drew the gauzy drapery round her head. It fell about her soft and white as foam. I knew now where I had seen her before, lying, as now, with her sweet face turned upward to the sky; looking, as now, so full of purity and love: calling me then to innocence as now to reconciliation. Her angel in her likeness had once spoken to me through the waves, as Herbert's spirit now spoke to me in her. "This is his portrait," she continued, opening one of the cases. The darkness gathered closer and closer. But I fought it off bravely, and kneeling humbly, for the first time I was able to make my confession. I told her all. My love for Herbert; but my fierce fury of temper: my sin, but also how unintential: my atonement. And then, in the depth of my agony, I turned to implore her forgiveness. , . i . i ". ; ','1 do." she said, weeping. "It was a griev ous crime grievous, deadly but you have ex piated it. You have repented indeed by selfsubjugation, and by unwearied labors of mercy and good among your fellow-men. I do forgive you, my friend, as Herbert's spirit would forgive you. And, in a gayer tone, "my beloved bus band, who will return to me to-day, will bless you too for preserving his wife, as I bless you for preserving me to him. ' The darkness fell from me as she kissed my hand. Yet it still shades my life; but as a warning, not as a curse a mournful past, not a destroying present. Charity and active good among our fellow-men can destroy the power of sin within us; and repentance in deeds not in tears, but in the life-long efforts of a resolute man can lighten the blackness of a crime, and remove the curse of punishment from us. Work and love; by these may we win our pardon, and by these stand out acrain in the light. . . , THE EUSSIAN KNOUT. Let us afford the reader a very striking view of the awful punishment by the Russian knout. J. Tt is perfectly authentic, having been witnessed V English merchant, then resident at St. .u rru .u: i i i.:nj CJLSII. CM. jluc huulu in uus case uau tuieu s sentenced to receive one hundred TVtns-ch 90th? I,the Jl181 number being -mTOTlCE is hereV given that I wil. U.ueawi. A Kncj jjnom 0f obed Fonte, in the city of India; Jussia plaster aist day of April roperty of C. Henry Hesse, deceased, es : A. v. iood, a cnesioi it - : has beeri'i" F has been ir lam.

am. mar, water is at its mean ursor unoer, mo ts j heat, that if cooled below tt, GEORGE LO.NG, ate of C. Henry

to become carbon'J'ti'nK wiu" apprTedTreebo.c. yeloping a Ion bon. Here is a specimen: ,

Hesse.

NO. 8.

strong flat stake, and ' a few mats laid on the ground formed the whole that were visible. The stake was nearly five feet high, planted very firmly in the ground, and sloping; about eight or ten inches off' the perpendicular. It was about four inches thick, but of unequal breadth, being - I l r5 o J groundward to the earth, where it was not above luuy two leet at the top, and tapering gradually eight inches. Un the top, it was hollowed out into tlje semi-circles, the central one being appropriated to the neck, and the two others for the arms of the criminal. Near to the ground there was a hole through the stake, to pass a cord for fastening the malefactor's ankles. The mats were to make a firm footing for the executioners. Exactly at seven o'clock, the prisoner appeared, guarded by four soldiers with naked sabres, accompanied by several officers of police, and followed by two executioners, ench bearing under his arm a bundle containing knout-thongs. The battalion now formed a hollow square, three deep the police, executioners, and criminal being in the centre. . ' The executioners, or loggers, in' Russia, are themselves criminals, kept in perpetual confinement, save when taken out to perform their cruel office, which, frpm pent-up revenge, they render as agonizing as possible to the poor sufferer. The first executioner was the coarsest specimen of humanity I ever saw. His height was over six feet, his shoulders were immoderately broad, his body large, and his limbs bulky and jtthletic; his head was covered with dark- colored coarse bristles, and his complexion was of a fierce mahogany tinge. His assistant, a strong and muscular young man, was his very counterpart, being one of the most favorable specimens of a young Russian peasant I had every met with. I must now describe the criminal. He was apparently about twenty-five years of age, vefy full built, but of low stature, with a very stolid countenance; but he showed neither remorse nor fear. He seemed perfectly callous; took off his cap, and cooJJy prepared himself for his terrible punishment. . , , , Having thrown aside his caftan and his shirt, and having nothing on but his trowsers and his boots, he approached the stake with a firm step, and was securely fastened to it by the executioners, who now threw off their coats and got ready the instruments of torture. The knout consists of a handle about a foot long, with a piece of twisted hide of the same length. To this hide is attached, by a loop, a piece of thong, prepared to almost metallic hardness, in length about four or five feet, perfectly flat, and an inch broad. It is changed after every 6ix or eight blows, being unfit for use when it becomes at all soft. The senior executioner having placed himself within five or six feet of the pricfuner, with the thong of the knout on the ground behind him, then drew it forward, raising it slowly and steadily till it had attained the proper elevation, when he brought it down with tremendous force upon the very middle of the criminal's back, leaving a deep crimson mark of an inch in breadth, extending from his neck to the waist-band of his trowsers. ; ... Upon receiving the blow, the wretch uttered a scream, or rather a yellol agony, and every fibre of his body seemed in a state of violent and instantaneous contortion. With hardly an interval the blow was repeated, followed by the same result, the same frightful yell, the same appalling shudder! The second mark appeared about an inch from and parallel to the first: a third, fourth, and fifth blow followed in quick succession, when the operator stepped aside and resigned his place to his assistant. After giving eight, blows, the assistant retired in his turn, when his principal, who had in the mean time been fitting on a fresh thong, resumed the dreadful task. He was agaip succeeded by the young man, who in like manner had renewed the efficacy of his weapon by a similar process. In this manner did they continue, mutually relieving one another, at each relay adding a new thong, until the destined number of blows were inflicted on the lacerated back of the sufferer. About the fiftieth stroke, his struggles having partially loosened the fastenings, it was found necessary to stop and have them fixed more firmly. From the first until about the twentieth blow, each was followed by the same scream and con-, vulsions; from the twentieth to the fiftieth, both gradually became weaker the latter, indeed, had degenerated into a sort of involuntary shivering. After the fiftieth, loth ceased: the criminal's head fell to one side; and although each touch of the knout brought with it a convulsive shudder, he seemed to be perfectly unconscious of pain. The criminal's back now exhibited a horrid spectacle. It was one mangled, bloated mass, of a dark crimson hue; yet still mangled as it was, not a drop of blood came from it. A common cart having been drawn into the square, the executioners untied the strap by which the male--factor was fastened to the stake, and, with as-, sistance, carried him to and placed him in the cart, throwing his shirt lightly upon him, then his caftan, then a mat over all. When removed from the stake he was quite insensible; so much so that I did not suppose he would survive till he reached the hospital: but I was mistaken; for upon observing him attentively, after being placed in the cart, I perceived that he had so far recovered as to attempt to move one arm. No surgeon was present, nor was one needed. The number of stripes is specified, and, happen what may, they must be administered, i He was driven off to the prison with the same guards and attendants as at first; the whole affair, from the arrival to the departure of the poor victim, not exceeding twenty minutes. What became of him afterward I could not learn; but I have little doubt that in a few days he died from the fever andt mortification that were likely, I might rather say certain, to follow such severe injury. And even in the event of his recovery, he would be sent to end his life in the mines of Siberia, and this could scarcely be called the least part of his terrible punishment. Such is The JCnoni. JP3"Orirrinal noetrv mar occasionally hp. fnnnrl , "Love is a fire that burns and sparkles . l men, as naturally as in charcoals."