ficer.

"Well, have a go at him," says the officer kindly.

The second shift gets to work, and turning up their sleeves, takes over
the bloody whips and resumes the flogging of the student, who still, as
before, is lying in the snow without uttering a word. Only his body
still thrills instinctively as the soldiers get more and more excited
and the blows become more and more frequent.

"Sir, we, too, want some of the lark," impatiently interfered some of
the dragoons, and having received the permission of the officer,
substituted themselves for the artillery men and with new force and zeal
began to flog the student, who still lay strictly as before, only his
body scarcely moving.

"Well, here you are, you got your higher education--all the three
faculties!" somebody joked as the flogging at last stopped and the
student lay motionless in the snow.

But he was not flogged to death. He was taken to the other side of the
river and there shot.

_II.--Lieutenant Schmidt, of the Sevastopol Mutiny, after being
captured._

(From a letter received by Prof. Miliukov from a lady correspondent who
saw Schmidt in the Fortress and had the tale from his own lips.)

....He only remembers how the officers of the "Rostislavl" posted him
naked, with a broken leg, between two sentries in their mess-room and
approached him in turns, shaking their fists in his face and abusing him
in the vilest terms. Schmidt's son, who, for some unaccountable reason,
had been kept in fortress for two months, said to me: "I cannot tell you
how they abused my father, the terms are unpronounceable." Schmidt
himself spoke to me sobbingly of the painful treatment meted out to him
by the officers.... For twenty-four hours the two of them, father and
son, were kept stark naked and without food, under a fierce electric
light, on the open deck. They lay together, pressing against each other
so as to warm themselves, and everyone who passed looked at them, and
those who wanted, abused them. When Schmidt, being wounded, asked for a
drop of water, the senior officer shouted at him: "Silence, or I'll stop
your gullet with my fist."

[Illustration]

PATERNALISTIC GOVERNMENT.

By THEODORE SCHROEDER.

HISTORY serves no purpose to those who cannot, or do not avail
themselves of it as a means of learning helpful lessons, for present
use. From a few sources not readily accessible to the masses, I have
copied a partial summary of paternalistic legislati