this man was, of course, the duty of those whose authority he had defied. As an absconder, he was sentenced to one hundred lashes, and told--in words the import of which has not been disputed, although the taunting tone attributed to the justice may possibly admit a question--that after his flogging he would be hanged! Ten days after, he was condemned to death: his execution was delayed a few more by a respite; but he went to the scaffold with his wounds unhealed! The treatment of this man called forth, and justified the strongest expressions of public indignation. True, it was within the letter of the law: either of the penalties inflicted, might have been vindicated or excused both by necessity and custom; but to torture a fellow creature shortly to make his defence against a charge affecting his life, and to send him to his last account whilst suffering the pangs of laceration, was inexpressibly revolting. Those who desired to disgrace the government, embraced the opportunity--perhaps with the eagerness of faction: pictures were exhibited of the unfortunate man, illustrative of his melancholy fate. Surely no argument can be found, in the calmest exercise of the understanding to extenuate an administration of the law, which distorted justice into cruelty. Under circumstances far more consonant with reason, but scarcely less affecting when considered at large, was the execution of Samuel, a black man: he was transported for theft, from the Cape of Good Hope, and was remarkable for the quiet easiness of his disposition. For some violation of penal discipline he was ordered to be flogged: when approaching the triangle, he attacked one of the officers in attendance, who was slightly wounded; for this he forfeited his life--justly, had England been just; but what was his story? With his mother and sister he was stolen from Mozambique, and thus became a slave: he robbed his masters, and thus became a criminal. His fate turns justice into mockery, and might make the Briton blush for his country. His execution, however, was not without utility: Dr. Ross, who for years had attended such scenes, then adopted the conviction that no resources of language, or varieties of incident, could invest them with interest, and he resolved to attend them no more. Here, too, the reader will be willing to abandon them. Since, they have often been repeated; but happily society has adopted from reflection, what that gentle-hearted man, so powerful is habit, required years to learn--that the executioner is an officer far less useful, and the agent of a spirit far less just, than past ages have deemed.[213]