whether they can sustain this inhuman law? The history of the world goes to show that scenes of blood only harden the heart, and brutalize the affections.*

* See the following account of the conduct of an executioner who cruelly put seven men to death for merely entertaining 'constitutional principles,' in Portugal, under the reign of the usurper, Don Miguel :— 'At eight o'clock the mournful procession was formed at the prison of the Lemoira, about a mile from the place of execution; the seven unhappy men, with fourteen priests, one on each side of each prisoner, in the centre; the prisoners bare-footed and bare-headed, dressed in long white habits, with a hood hanging down behind, each bearing a small wooden crucifix in his clasped hands, secured together by bolts at the wrists. They were strongly guarded, both before and behind. At each church they had to pass, the procession stopped to hear an exhortation, so that it was near twelve o'clock before they reached the fatal place. One at a time ascended the platform, up a broad flight of steps, accompanied by two priests, as in the procession, and was immediately placed on the seat, with his back to the upright post. The hangman, a miserable wretch, walking with a crutch, then secured the legs, the arms, and body of the unhappy man with cords, and placing a short cord round his neck and round the post, he put the hood over the face, and then, going behind the post, introduced a short thick stick, and, giving it four or five turns, produced strangulation. The body was then untied, and laid at a convenient distance, and another brought up from the foot of the scaffold, until the whole had suffered. The youngest, or least criminal, was executed first; and, as each occupied fifteen to twenty minutes, the last had to endure, for at least two hours, the horrid sight of the sufferings of his fellow-prisoners. The mind can scarcely imagine a more dreadful state of mental suffering. When the whole were strangled, the hangman wiped his face, and, seating himself in the fatal seat, coolly smoked a cigar, regaled himself with a bottle of wine, and then, placing a block of wood under the neck, proceeded to cut off the heads, from which the blood flowed copiously in streams from the platform; then, collecting the cords, and coolly wiping the hatchet and knife in one of the white dresses, he left the platform, first throwing the heads and bodies in a heap, over the iron grate below. The fire was kindled, and in a few minutes the whole was in a blaze. By six o'clock the whole was burnt to ashes, when a gang of galley-slaves, with irons on their legs, took the ashes in hand-barrows, and threw them into the Tagus.'

The heart becomes hardened by scenes of rapine and murder, and those who become witnesses of sanguinary punishments only want for provocations of poverty or anger to perpetrate the same crime for which the capital offender is punished. Hence, the corrupting influence of war, as well as of the law which sanctions the Punishment of Death. We are not aware how much the battle field has done to corrupt public sentiment. We have not, however, taken up that subject in this work, because, although it is allied to it, yet we preferred to present it in a separate dissertation.*

* A wretch, who was executed at Exeter, England, on being removed from the bar, after sentence of death had been passed, exclaimed to the by-standers, 'I have killed many men to please the king, and why should I not kill one to please myself?' One of the soldiers who was taken up for wantonly shooting a man at Lestwithiel, in 1814, on witnessing the horror and agitation of the peaceful townsmen, very coolly observed, 'Here is a pretty fuss about killing one man; why, I have seen hundreds killed.'

ESSAY VI.

EFFECT OF PUBLIC EXECUTIONS UPON DOMESTIC LIFE. Provision in Prussia for the children of criminals-Condemned forger and his family—The condemned and his child—Incident at Massachusetts State Prison-Painful fact-Hangman and the judge.

'But the wretches, who die, are not the only sufferers. . . . Who knows how many innocent children we may be dooming to ignominy and wretchedness? Who knows how many widows' hearts we may break with grief; how many grey hairs we may bring with sorrow to the grave?'-Report of Howard Society in Dublin, 1832.

We now approach a portion of our subject which has excited very little feeling in the community, and yet is one of the most tender views that can be presented. We have shown the demoralizing influence of public executions, and the indifference of the prisoner to his fate. We have seen the brutalizing, deadening influence of these scenes upon the spectators. There is another class whom we cannot suppose to be present; a class who have retired from the public gaze, -who have closed their ears to the martial music, the jesting, the coarse ribaldry usually accompanying such scenes; a class pining in secret anguish over the miserable and the fallen culprit. We mean the wife, lamenting, with inexpressible grief, the cruel fate of her husband; the mother weeping in solitude over her beloved son; the distracted sister over a fallen brother! It has not been the business of history to keep a record of tears shed in private, and of hearts bleeding and

broken in retirement. But they are not forgotten by the true philanthropist and the Christian.* They are not forgotten by Him who 'looks down from the height of His sanctuary, . . . to hear the groaning of the prisoner, to loose those that are appointed to death.' Oh! the anguish of their hearts! Could we get admittance there, what griefs should we see! It is, indeed, on such occasions, the living who die! 'There is no killing like that which kills the heart!' This is admirably presented in the following thrilling sketch from Frazer's London Magazine.

THE CONDEMNED FORGER AND HIS FAMILY.

The forger had been convicted, and condemned to suffer the dreadful penalty of death. His wife was a sensitive and accomplished lady, although the wife of a felon. An hour had been appointed for the last earthly interview. Pale and trembling, the wife, with three children, entered, to them, the tomb of a living being, who had been their only love and hope in this world,―he whose solicitude to insure their happiness, was the cause of their misery. After an absence, it is natural to rush into the arms of those we love; but disgrace and consequent shame make strange havoc with the impulses of the heart.

* A beautiful instance is given by Prof. Stowe, in his Report on Education in Prussia, &c., of the provision made for the children of criminals:-'When I was in Berlin I went into the public prison, and visited every part of the establishment. At last I was introduced to a very large hall, which was full of children, with their books and teachers, and having all the appearance of a common Prussian school-room. 'What,' said I, 'is it possible that all these children are imprisoned here for crime?' 'Oh no,' said my conductor, smiling at my simplicity; 'but if a parent is imprisoned for crime, and, on that account, his children are left destitute of the means of education, and liable to grow up in ignorance and crime, the government has them taken here, and maintained and educated for useful employment.' The thought brought tears to my eyes.

'Do you forgive me, Maria?' said the husband, keeping aloof from his wife, as if his touch would be pollution.

'Would that others would as readily forgive!' replied the ago

nized wife, sinking on a seat near to her.

6

Ah, you mean God! Ah, have you prayed for me, Maria? Do you think there is hope for me? Speak! I have been a great sinner-a wicked sinner, Maria.

Yet do not tell these, your children, what a bad man their father was. But wherefore are they here? Is not my punishment sufficiently heavy without bringing my children to reproach me?'

The jailor reminded the bewildered man that he had expressed a wish to see them.

Yes-true,' he ejaculated; but I have been mad, and have not recovered my senses. Maria, your husband is mad!'

Maria heard him not; she was lying senseless on the floor. The children, aged six, and eight, and ten, were crying over her, thinking that their unhappy and evidently distracted father had been the cause of her death.*

Both husband and wife had thousands of questions to ask, and more matter to communicate, but the interview was ended. Several hours elapsed ere the wife was restored to perfect consciousness; and it was late in the evening before her doomed husband could be brought to resume the preparations for his fate that awaited him the following morning.

'Shall I not see him once more?' inquired the wife, as she slowly recovered her recollection-only once more-only one look! I. am now prepared, and can command my feelings.'

This privilege was denied her, as such interviews rarely answer any purpose but to distract the mind of the one whose business it is to forget the world and all its attractions, and to agonize the feelings of the other, who stand in need of all the resolution they possess to sustain the calamities attendant on a catastrophe so fatal to their worldly prospects.

It was evening before the wife and her children could be conveyed home; the latter, while at the prison and on their road, asking their agonized mother a number of questions regarding their father, every one of which penetrated the soul and caused her fur

* See Engraving.