unsuspecting, and the smiling murderer, with cold-blooded calculation, waiting for a better opportunity to make sure of both. An illustration of the meaning of Democratic peace resolutions is about to be made. The same hand which a few hours before signed peace resolutions now grasps the assassin’s weapon, within a very few feet of Mr. HINDS’ back, the gun is suddenly raised. Click, click, hear the triggers! Oh! the terrible instant! bang, bang, goes the gun. Mr. Brooks’s horse, stung with buck-shot, bounds ahead with a wounded rider, while the second horse madly leaps forward riderless, and JAMES HINDS lies on the ground motionless, dying. Another order of the Ku-Klux-Klan has been executed; smiling with a fiend’s smile upon his features stands the Democratic assassin; the soul of another martyr is sent unshriven before the arbitrator of eternity; dying, shot in the back, lies the Radical Congressman. Would to God the curtain of oblivion might drop over the scene forever! JAMES HINDS’ spirit has passed from earth, but his life, deeds, and death will not soon pass from memory, so well he lived, so hard he toiled, so young was he gathered into the unseen fold, that when we think of him we cannot avoid to lament that: “The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory.” He had so many noble qualities and won so many strong friends we can very easily drop the veil of charity over his faults, whatever they may have been. Had he been faultless he could not have been human. It is said a death-bed is a detector of human hearts. If so, it is pleasing to know that in his expiring moments, lying with no more friendly touch than the breast of mother earth, his few words were not concerning his own death tortures, but were expressions of solicitude for his wife and two sweet daughters whom he loved so dearly. Could you, sirs, have seen the hundreds of compressed lips and wet eyes which spoke in an eloquence and intensity of grief words could not be framed to utter when his remains passed through the City of Little Rock. You would have exclaimed, “Behold, how they loved him,” and certainly he who has thus won the love of man must have a strong claim on the mercy of God. But ceremonies in honor of the dead can only be beneficial in so far as they affect the actions of the living. Could the spirit of JAMES HINDS speak to us to-day it would not be with an effort to induce fulsome eulogies upon those who are beyond mortal aid, but from the portals of the dead he would say protect the living.