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"Well, then, you shall have your reward!"-roared the inhuman tyrant.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE BOY MARTYR.

ILLUSTRATED BY A FLOGGING AT SEA.

"What can Jesus Christ,-they talk so much of,-do for you now?" S probably the reader has never witnessed a flogging,before he can appreciate the story of the Young Martyr in the West Indies,-the following description by the late Captain Hannay, of the Royal Navy, of

an ordinary" couple of dozen," administered with the "cat," may serve to illustrate a mode of punishment once very common both in the Army and Navy.

We must imagine Singleton Fontenoy, a young Midshipman, witnessing "punishment," for the first time. "Seven bells" striking, all hands were tumbled up to witness punishment. The ship's company were gathered together in the gangways;-the officers, with swords on, were on the Quarter deck. A grating was lashed to the bulwarks. Near this stood the Master-at-Arms, with a cup of water for the victim, and two burly Boatswain's Mates were in attendance, with canvas bags, containing the two implements of punishment, called the "cat o' nine-tails."

Take away God's blue sky, and the free blue sea around, and you might have felt yourself in the Inquisition of the Catholics in their palmiest days!

"All ready, sir!"-reported the Master-at-Arms, touching his hat to First-Lieutenant Modell. The First-Lieutenant, looking very gloomy and pensive, moved aft to the Captain's cabin; the Marines on duty fixed bayonets, and out came Captain Pannikin, with cocked hat and sword on, moving, in awkward pomp, to the scene. Captain Pannikin was, in his way, a kind and well-meaning man; but he had no talent for governing the ship without flogging. He did not like it, but he found it established as a System, and availed himself of it.

The prisoner was a fine young sailor-Williams-a fore-castle-man-one of those stolid, thoroughly valuable,— but, at the same time untameable sailors, who will do any work-care for no danger-but can with difficulty be subjected to any discipline. Men who are constantly exposing themselves to be flogged, but whom it is no use flogging. On this occasion he had been drunk, and when a similar temptation came in his way he would get drunk again.

Love for a Captain like Nelson might have kept him. dutiful; flogging he despised.

Captain Pannikin looked very red and uncomfortable; he felt it necessary to make some sort of speech. He never could say six words well in his life. It was pitiable to hear the attempt; he stuttered, turned red, and grew confused. 'Sorry to have to do it-necessity—your third offence-drunk-strip!" The last word alone Captain Pannikin's poor, paltry, address from seeming contemptible. Strip!

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The young man stripped as coolly as a man going to bathe! His bust was a model for a Hercules! He was secured to the grating in the usual way. The Senior Midshipman handed Captain Pannikin the warrant, and the Articles of War; the Captain having read them, motioned to the first Boatswain's Mate, saying "four-and-twenty," The latter stepped forward, and drew from the canvas bag his "cat; "-he was really proud of it; and had fancifully covered the handle with green baize;-the tails were brilliantly white! Poor Singleton, the young Midshipman, grew very pale; the young sailor in question had once been got out of a scrape through him, and had given the boy a silk handkerchief brought from India, which, from its gorgeous appearance, when placed round Singleton's waist, had excited the envy of the Midshipmen's Mess. The boy had not expected to see this sort of thing when he went to Sea; he fumbled nervously with his Midshipman's dirk, and drew his breath as if the blow was about to fall on himself! There was a moment's silence, only disturbed by the low sound of the ship's wheel, turned by the helmsman.

The Boatswain's Mate took a step forward ;-planted himself firmly; and moistened the palm of his hand. A whistle! Down came the lash -"One!" cried the Masterat-Arms. On the young man's white flesh appeared a row of crimson lines.

Singleton gasped, but the sailor, who received the blow, betrayed no more emotion than if he had been made of granite! "Two! three! four!" were called, up to "One dozen, sir." It had become first flushed, then bloody, but the young man uttered no word,-gave no symptom of feeling; in fact the man was rather losing his temper at the tardiness of the punishment; and stoicism began to give way to anger. Come! go on! go on!" he called out,Oh! you're a poor old fool; your wife told me you was!" "Who are you speaking to?" cried Captain Pannikin, getting very red in the face. "Any one who likes to take it up!" said the young man.

There was an uneasy movement amongst the officers, and Captain Pannikin said no more. It is always difficult to know how to deal with words spoken by a man undergoing punishment; it is not usual to notice them.

The Second Boatswain's Mate had now brought out the fresh "cat," for the tails of the first had become clotted with blood. The new "cat" was adorned with red baize; a suggestive contrast to the first! The Sailor seemed on

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the point of roaring out some fresh insolence, when there was a sudden confusion among the officers,-a rush, a crowd, and long whispers ! "What's the matter?" said the Captain, turning round eagerly. "One of the Midshipmen, -young Mr. Fontenoy,-has fainted sir," said the FirstLieutenant. On hearing the name, the young sailor under punishment, gave a sharp, sudden, look round, and became suddenly silent! He received the last few strokes quietly, and even respectfully. Why? Because someone, it seemed, cared for him;-felt for him; it created a sudden revulsion of feeling; he went off to air his wounded back in the sick ward; and Singleton was carried down to the FirstLieutenant's own cabin.

Singleton never had occasion to regret the incident, for though some of the "Mids" made some good-natured fun of "Fon, showing the white feather," it made Singleton very popular amongst the men; they talked it over afterwards. "You see, sir,"-they would say "The young gentleman was brave enough, when we had that sharp brush with the Pirates in the boats, but you see he could not bear to see one of us flogged!" And when Fontenoy went ashore in charge of a ship's boat-Williams, the forecastle man, always managed to be one of the crew; and what he could do to serve and please the bright-eyed young Middy, that Williams never failed to do!

THE BOY MARTYR.

Having given an illustration of an ordinary flogging of a "couple of dozen," with the "cat," the reader will be able to appreciate better the following account of the young Martyr, in the West Indies.

Although, through God's providence, slavery has received its death-blow in the United States—after, however, one of the most desperate struggles history can furnish-it is still carried on openly in some of the West Indian Islands, and in parts of Africa. Our English Consul at MozambiqueMr. Mc'Leod, speaks of a slave nearly beaten to death by order of his cruel mistress, merely because the young man had refused to flog his own mother. And when a Portuguese lady had a slave boy of 16 actually beaten to death, the jury merely returned a verdict of cruelty; but, as Mr. Mc'Leod says "Nothing more was done."

A sad illustration of the power a Slave owner possesses,

and how they sometimes exercise it, will be found in the following anecdote.

A Slave boy, about 17 years old, went to hear the preaching of a noted missionary amongst the slaves, and became a convert to the Christian religion. His master-a brutal, godless man-had the greatest dislike to religion, or to any of his slaves attending these meetings. He would say indignantly, that it actually put notions of freedom into the slaves' heads,-made them discontented;in a word, he swore that if he caught one of them going to a "Camp Meeting," as these Religious gatherings are called in America, he "would have him well flogged; and those who knew the man's desperate character, knew that he was the man to keep his word! The poor boy knew it too, but he could not keep away! The hopes that had dawned upon him from what he had heard the good Missionary say, had opened to him a new life! It was not always to be toils, and blows, and slavery! He heard of another world, where sorrow and sin would be no more, of an Almighty God, of a loving Saviour, who cared for him! He must hear more, and accordingly attended another meeting. His brutal master heard of it, and on his return he was summoned into his presence! He was an intelligent boy, but, unhappily for him, intelligence in a slave was the very last thing an owner like his master cared for; a strong, healthy, stupid, field hand, who could work well in the cotton fields, was what he wanted in a slave. The boy was, besides a weakly one, never likely to prove of much value on the Estate, so the wicked man resolved to make an example of him, to keep the other hands on the Estate from ever attending a Camp Meeting again: the example, the wretch thought, would be well worth the dollars the boy was worth. He therefore ordered him to receive fifty lashes;—a dreadful punishment for a mere boy, as those can testify who have seen the effect of two dozen on a man, however strong he may be.

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Then, in a tone of blasphemous ridicule (secretly hoping to get some excuse for continuing the punishment)— he exclaimed, "So much for attending Camp Meeting! I should like to know what Jesus Christ-they talk so much of-can do for you now?" 'He enables me to bear it patiently!" said the poor boy "Oh! He does, does He?"roared the wretch, "Then perhaps He will enable you to bear a little more! I suppose you'll be for going again! shall not set an example to my slaves for nothing!

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