hurry up there!" exclaimed the brutal marshal | man soul in the hour of sorest trial. There was who stood at the door with other officers; "come a Methodist clergyman in Atlanta by the name on, we can't wait." Samuel Robinson, of Ohio, of M'Donnell, who was very kind to these men, the young man who was too sick to walk, was lending them books and speaking to them words hurried away with the rest. The death-cart of Christian sympathy. We mention this that was at the door. The seven captives were should any of our soldiers chance to meet him, crowded into it. A company of mounted rebels they may remember his kindness to their imsurrounded them. When placed upon the scaf-prisoned brethren. The negroes were as ever fold with ropes around their necks George D. Wilson, of Ohio, asked permission to speak a few words. His request was granted, probably with the expectation that he was to make some confession. In eloquent words, and with Roman heroism, this young American citizen then said:

"I have no hostile feelings toward the Southern people. Their rulers, not they, are responsible for this rebellion. I am no spy, but a soldier regularly detailed for military duty. I do not regret dying for my country, I only regret the manner of my death. You may all depend upon it that this rebellion will yet be crushed down. You will all regret the part you have taken in it. The time will soon come when the flag of our Union will float over our whole undivided country, and over the very spot where this scaffold now stands."

the firm friends of our soldiers. They were unwearied in their endeavors to help the captives, even exposing themselves to cruel scourgings that they might befriend them.

After writing most of the above I chanced to come across a little book, entitled "Daring and Suffering," written by Lieutenant William Pittenger, of Ohio, who was one of the adventurers in this heroic enterprise, and who, after many hairbreadth escapes, succeeded in reaching friends and home. In his interesting narrative he gives a minute detail of those scenes of which here we can give but a brief sketch.

"We had friends in the waiters of the prison, though their faces were black. They assisted us by every means in their power. It was not long till they found that there was nothing we desired so much as to read the news; and they taxed their ingenuity to gratify us. They would wait till the jailer or some of the guard had finished reading a paper and laid it down and then slyly purloin it. When meal time came it would be put into the bottom of the pan, in which our food was brought, and thus handed in to us. The paper had to be returned in the same way to avoid suspicion. For several months it was only through their instrumental

There were about four hundred of low, uncultured men, such as compose the rank and file of the rebel army, surrounding the gallows. With oaths and ribald jests they assailed the patriots. As the platform fell five only were seen struggling suspended in the air. Two ropes had broken, and William Campbell of Kentucky, and Samuel Slavens of Ohio, fell to the ground bruised, bleeding, and almost in-ity that we could obtain any definite information sensible. Soon they slightly recovered and begged that a few moments might be granted them that they might pray for the forgiveness and the help of God. The request was insultingly refused. New ropes were provided. They were again dragged upon the scaffold and launched into eternity. The mob shouted, and dispersed to drink themselves drunk in their merriment over hanging these "Yankee Abolitionists."

The four captives who were left in the prison behind, simply because their trial had not yet taken place, in gloom unspeakable soon saw the cart return empty, thus announcing that the terrible tragedy was finished.

The energetic movements of General Mitchel kept the rebels in a constant state of alarm. The surviving captives were frequently moved from one prison to another, and there was no time to convene another court-martial. They were most of them collected in the jail at Atlanta. The execution of their comrades and the peril to which they were exposed of meeting at any day the same fate, so affected them that by a unanimous vote they established morning and evening prayers. Each one in turn, as they all kneeled together, offered his brief and fervent petition. A more touching scene can not well be imagined, or one which more impressively shows what a support true religion is to the hu

of what was going on in the world without..

"Having found the negroes thus intelligent and useful, far beyond what I had supposed possible, I questioned them about other matters. They were better informed than I had given them credit for, and knew enough to disbelieve all the stories the rebels told. When the whites were not present they laughed at the grand victories the papers were publishing every day. They imagined that all the Northern troops were chivalrous soldiers, fighting for the universal rights of man. They never wavered in their belief that the Union troops would conquer, and that the result of the victory would be their freedom. I never saw one who did not cherish an ardent desire for freedom, and wish and long for the time when the triumph of the national forces would place the coveted boon within his grasp."

The months rolled heavily along, and summer and autumn passed sadly away. Many plans were talked over by the survivors, now fourteen in number, for attempting an escape. But they were guarded with such vigilance that no plan could be presented which did not seem utterly desperate. At length the provost marshal came into their room one day and informed them that he had received a letter from the Secretary of War at Richmond, inquiring why all the party engaged in the railroad adventure

had not been executed.
ceived intelligence that another dispatch had
come ordering their immediate execution. The
frantic struggles of despair now became pru-
dence. They seized their jailer, gagged him,
wrenched from him his keys, rushed down stairs
and sprang upon the guard, tore their guns from
them, scaled the walls, and ran for the woods.
The whole garrison in Atlanta was immediately
in commotion. A regiment of cavalry was start-mained in his bosom,
ed off in pursuit. Their chivalric commander,
Colonel Lee, said,
"Don't take one of the villains alive. Shoot
them down, and let them lie in the woods for
the birds and hogs to eat."

And soon they re- confinement during the months of December
and January, hope every day growing more and
more faint. They had no fire, very scanty food,
and scarcely any clothing. It seemed to be the
endeavor of the barbarian rebels to kill them by
the lingering tortures of starvation and freezing.
In view of the sufferings inflicted upon them
one of their jailers was overheard to say, influ-
enced by a spark of humanity which still re-

Eight of the heroes escaped. J. A. Wilson and Mark Wood, both from Ohio, after adventures as marvelous as were ever detailed in the dreams of romance, pushing south directly through the densest throngs of rebeldom, at last reached the Gulf of Mexico, where they succeeded in getting beneath the protection of the Stars and Stripes, on a United States gun-boat. J. R. Porter and John Wollam, also from Ohio, ran in a westerly direction. Traveling by night and hiding by day, after a month of hunger, toil, and peril which no pen can describe, they reached Corinth, where the national banner received them under its protecting folds. M. J. Hawkins and D. A. Dorsey, both also from Ohio, after wandering through the woods for three weeks, traveling only by starlight, living upon roots and raw sweet-potatoes, finally aided by Union men, whom they found scattered through the mountains, reached Somerset, Kentucky, from which place they were transported to their regiments, where they were received as from the dead. Two, W. W. Brown and William Knight, also from Ohio, were never afterward heard from. They probably perished of hunger and exposure in the woods. All the rest, six in number, were recaptured.

"If you want to kill the men, and I know the rascals deserve it, do it at once. But don't keep them there to die by inches, for it will disgrace us all over the world."

In March it was announced that arrangements had been made for a general exchange. The joy this excited no tongue can tell. On the 17th of March an officer entered the prison in the evening, and stated that our captives, with several others, were to leave the next morning in a flag-of-truce boat, to be conveyed to the American lines.

"The evening," writes Mr. Pittenger, "was one of wild excitement. Nearly all acted like men bereft of reason. Their joyousness found vent in vociferous cheers, in dancing and bounding over the floor, in embracing each other and pledging kind remembrances."

Early the next morning they took the cars, and at City Point were received into a flag-oftruce boat-the State of Maine—over which the Star-Spangled Banner was gloriously floating. Down the James and up the Potomac they went, their hearts throbbing with joyous excitement. Here they met with that honorable reception which they so richly merited. Each one received a beautiful medal in commemoration of his heroic though unfortunate adventure. All their arrearages were paid, the money taken from them and other property of which they had been robbed were refunded, and a purse of a hundred dollars placed in each one's hand. They then received a furlough to visit their friends. Before they left Washington they were received by the President, who greeted them with his

The names of these young men should be handed down to posterity with honor. We give them as we find them recorded in the very interesting personal narrative of William Pittenger.

It was now October. As the jail was not deemed a safe place for their confinement they were removed to the city barracks, where their situation was much less uncomfortable. Sev-characteristic fatherly affection. eral Union Tennesseeans were imprisoned with them. Weeks of the dreary monotony of prison-life rolled on. One day, when in the lowest depths of despondency, they were roused to almost a frenzy of joy by the tidings that they Eight of them were executed. Their were exchanged, and were immediately to be names were J. J. Andrews, Kentucky, and Willsent to the Union lines. On the 3d day of De-iam Campbell, George D. Wilson, Marion A. cember, a bitter cold, wintry day, our captives, in only summer clothing, and those ragged and threadbare, were placed in a box-car, and, almost perishing with cold, were borne over the frozen roads toward Virginia. After a long ride, in which they suffered excessively from hunger as well as cold, they reached Richmond. | W. Brown, William Knight, J. B. Porter, Mark It was the 7th of December, 1862. To their infinite disappointment they found that they had been deceived. Instead of being exchanged they were placed in Castle Thunder, the Bastile of the South. Here they remained in bitter

Ross, Perry G. Shadrack, Samuel Slavens, Samuel Robinson, and John Scott, all from Ohio. The following, eight in number, who were also from Ohio, escaped in October, though the first two mentioned probably perished in the woods, as they were never heard from. They were W.

Wood, J. A. Wilson, M. J. Hawkins, John Wollam, and D. A. Dorsey. The following six were finally exchanged: Jacob Parrott, Robert Buffum, William Behsinger, William Reddick, E. H. Mason, and William Pittenger.

T

ous error.

INTRODUCTIONS.

you envy the position, social and physical, of St. Simon Stylites as one precluding introductions except through a speaking-trumpet. If you be of a nervous temperament, you are forced to shun public promenades and other "busy haunts of men" by the momentary fear that some "yesterdated" acquaintance may grapple with you, and parade his arm-in-arm vulgarity in odious companionship for dreary hours; or

HERE is one subject concerning which the American people labor under a most grievI allude to their general and indiscriminate passion for introductions. Not introductions to books, which are very good things in their way, provided they be not too long; but introductions to persons-forcible abductions, so to speak, of a human being out from the jurisdic-horrible idea!-even thrust upon you still tion of his or her rational inclinations without the preliminary form of an extradition treaty.

If there be one inherent right of man which should be respected under åny and every form of government-imperial, constitutional monarchic, patriarchal, or elective-it is the undoubted prerogative of each individual to have a voice in the selection of his acquaintances. An old Spanish proverb says, "Tell me who your associates are, and I will tell you what you are;" and yet, in the face of the universal credence at tached to this saying, a man's character and reputation are, in our great republic, entirely at the mercy of every ruthless monomaniac of whom he may have the slightest possible knowledge.

others of his cognizance and kidney.

This is the most appalling phase of the epidemic in question; but there are other forms of the disease less grave as to their effects upon the reputation of the sufferer, but involving an even more acute pang at the time of infliction. Prominent among these is what may be termed "Ballroom Borgianism"-a sacrificial ceremony wherein the lady of the house officiates as high-priestess, and immolates defenseless male youth upon the altars of unresponsive Wall-Floras. You find upon your library table a crested missive, through whose copper-plated medium Mrs. Hautevolée requests the pleasure of your company on Monday the th instant, at 9 o'clock. Dancing, R. S. V. P. Knowing that the adorable Euphrasia will be there, you have, veraciously and conventionally, " "great pleasure in accepting Mrs. Hautevolée's polite invitation for Monday evening next, and Bridget receives particular directions about "doing up" your white cravat with the embroidered ends, and the elaborate shirtA week passes,

filled with entrancing visions of Euphrasia and Fairyland; murmured rapture in the mazy waltz; delicious intercourse of souls in the conservatory's leafiest nook; sweet sounds and floating perfumes; and at last Monday evening comes. Who that sees you enter those resplendent rooms can realize the anxious care bestowed upon that dégagé costume-the ars celare artem adroitly manifested in the easy tie of the white cravat with the embroidered ends? Who among that throng of worldly votaries can know that beneath the elaborate shirt-bosom a swelling heart crinkles the superjacent starch with palpitating tremor? The saloons swarm with lovely girls; a vanishing perspective of gauzy robes and flashing jewels is indefinitely reflected in op posing mirrors; soft, languid music steals through the air, rising and falling in the hum of conver

The worst feature of this great social evil is that it increases in a geometrical progression with z for a ratio. The common but surprising problem relating to a barter, founded on the number of nails in a horse's shoes, is a trivial impertinence compared with the stupendous proportions soon assumed by one's range of acquaint-bosom you brought from Paris. ances in a large city under the hideous system that prevails. For instance-you have the ill luck to meet one John Smith some day at one of your usual resorts. Smith was, perhaps, a college classmate, or a fellow-clerk in a counting-house (before you rose to your present commercial eminence); or, peradventure, he is a client, or a patient (if a learned profession claim you). At all events, Smith is a fact; a disagreeable one, it may be, but none the less a fact. Smith is, of course, delighted to see you, and, after a few anxious inquiries touching your health and "your folks," avails himself of the opportunity to "make you acquainted" with Messrs. Brown, Jones, and Robinson, three friends of his, who happen to be with him on that occasion. If you should be residents of the same city, the chances are that you will meet Smith nearly every day, and that, at each meet-sation; the "world" is there with its hopes and ing, he will present you to a fresh batch of "friends;" for such fellows as he are popular men, and seldom go abroad without picking up a few desultory companions. This is bad enough; but it is only a beginning to your catalogue of undesired introductions. Each of Smith's friends has as large a circle of acquaintances as the original poisoner of your social existence; and, go where you will-to a hotel, to a reading-room, in cars, steamboats, banking-houses, restaurants -in town or country-you are sure to meet some one of Brown, Jones, Robinson, and Company, and as sure to be presented to some half dozen more of their friends, until your brain reels, and

fears, its intrigues and enmities; but what are all these to you? Your eyes, your ears, your thoughts are centred in Euphrasia; Euphrasia, who sits yonder, more bewitching than ever, being terribly bored (you feel sure) by that stupid, conceited puppy, Bliffins, whom you remember when his father kept a small shop in the "threadneedle" line of business, and whose intelligence, education, and fortune you are confident are very much overrated. Being a man of the world, you are, of course, too diplomatic to address the object of your devotion at once; your policy (worldly schemer that you are) is to wait until the earlier crowd shall have dispersed; to