revival of the system of the Bastile. The state of Pennsylvania, which has given to the world an example of humanity, and whose code of philanthropy has been quoted and canvassed by all Europe, is now about to proclaim to the world the inefficacy of the system, and to revive and restore the cruel code of the most barbarous and unenlightened age. I hope my friends of Pennsylvania will consider the effect this system had on the poor prisoners of the Bastile. I repaired to the scene," said he, "on the second day of the demolition, and found that all the prisoners had been deranged by their solitary confinement, except one. He had been a prisoner twenty-five years, and was led forth during the height of the tumultuous riot of the people, whilst engaged in tearing down the building. He looked around with amazement, for he had seen nobody for that space of time, and before night he was so much affected, that he became a confirmed maniac, from which situation he has never recovered."

DR. COMBE'S OPINION OF THE PENNSYLVANIA SYSTEM.

"In regard to the effect of the discipline in the Eastern Penitentiary, I observe, that the system of entire solitude, even when combined with labor and the use of books, and an occasional visit from a religious instructor, leaves the moral faculties still in a passive state, and without the means of vigorous, active exertion. According to my view of the laws of physiology, this discipline reduces the tone of the whole nervous system to the level which is in harmony with solitude. The passions are weakened and subdued, but so are all the moral and intellectual powers. The susceptibility of the nervous system is increased, because organs become susceptible of impression in proportion to their feebleness. A weak eye is pained by a degree of light which is agreeable to a sound one. Hence it may be quite true, that religious admonitions will be more deeply felt by prisoners living in solitude than by those enjoying society; just as such instruction, when addressed to a patient recovering from a severe and debilitating illness, makes a more vivid impression than when delivered to the same individual in health; but the appearances of reformation founded on such impressions are deceitful. When the sentence has expired, the convict will return to society, with all his mental powers, animal, moral, and intellectual, increased in susceptibility, but lowered in strength. The excitements that will then assail him will have their influence doubled, by operating on an enfeebled system. If he meet old associates, and return to drinking and profanity, the animal propensities will be fearfully excited by the force of these stimulants, while his enfeebled moral and intellectual will scarcely be capable of offering any resistance. If he be placed amidst virtuous men, his higher faculties will feel acutely, but be still feeble in executing their own resolves. Convicts, after long confinement in solitude, shudder to encounter the turmoil of the world; they become excited as the day of liberation approaches, and feel bewildered when set at liberty. In short, this system is not founded on, nor in harmony with, a sound knowledge of the physiology of the brain, although it appeared to me to be well administered."

Again; "The Auburn system of social labor is better, in my opinion, than that of Pennsylvania, in so far as it allows of a little more stimulus to the social faculties, and does not weaken the nervous system to so great an extent.”

Once more; "Phrenologists have long proclaimed, that the great cause of the incorrigibility of criminals is the excessive predominance of the organs of the animal propensities over those of the moral and intellectual faculties, and that this class of persons is really composed of moral patients, who should be restrained, but not otherwise punished, during life. As Nature is constant in her operations, the truth will in time force itself on the conviction of society;

and after injustice and severity shall have been perpetrated for ages, by the free and fortunate, towards the ill-constituted and unhappy, a better system of treatment will probably be adopted. Why are the clergy, those guardians of the poor and ministers of mercy, silent on this subject?”. - Notes on America, pages 221, 223, and 224.

"A democracy which refuses moral and religious instruction to convicts, is a greater foe to freedom than the most ruthless despot of Europe.” — Ib. page 220.

DICKENS'S OPINION OF SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, OR THE NEW PENITENTIARY IN PHILADELPHIA.

"In the outskirts stands a great Prison, called the Eastern Penitentiary, conducted on a plan peculiar to the state of Pennsylvania. The system here is rigid, strict, and hopeless solitary confinement. I believe it, in its effects, to be cruel and wrong.

"In its intention, I am well convinced that it is kind, humane, and meant for reformation; but I am persuaded that those who devised this system of Prison discipline, and those benevolent gentlemen who carry it into execution, do not know what it is that they are doing. I believe that very few men are capable of estimating the immense amount of torture and agony which this dreadful punishment, prolonged for years, inflicts upon the sufferers; and in guessing at it myself, and in reasoning from what I have seen written upon their faces, and what, to my certain knowledge, they feel within, I am only the more convinced that there is a depth of terrible endurance in it which none but the sufferers themselves can fathom, and which no man has a right to inflict upon his fellow-creature.

"I hold this slow and daily tampering with the mysteries of the brain, to be immeasurably worse than any torture of the body: and because its ghastly signs and tokens are not so palpable to the eye and sense of touch as scars upon the flesh; because its wounds are not upon the surface, and it extorts few cries that human ears can hear; therefore I the more denounce it, as a secret punishment which slumbering humanity is not roused up to stay. I hesitated once, debating with myself, whether, if I had the power of saying 'Yes' or 'No,' I would allow it to be tried in certain cases, where the terms of imprisonment were short; but now I solemnly declare, that with no rewards or honors could I walk a happy man, beneath the open sky by day, or lie me down upon my bed at night, with the consciousness that one human creature, for any length of time, no matter what, lay suffering this unknown punishment in his silent cell, and I the cause, or I consenting to it in the least degree.

"I was accompanied to this Prison by two gentlemen officially connected with its management, and passed the day in going from cell to cell, and talking with the inmates. Every facility was afforded me that the utmost courtesy could suggest. Nothing was concealed or hidden from my view, and every piece of information that I sought, was openly and frankly given. The perfect order of the building cannot be praised too highly; and of the excellent motives of all who are inmediately concerned in the administration of the system, there can be no kind of question.

"Between the body of the Prison and the outer wall there is a spacious garden. Entering it, by a wicket in the massive gate, we pursued the path before us to its other termination, and passed into a large chamber, from which seven long passages radiate.

"On either side of each is a long, long row of low cell doors, with a certain number over every one; above, a gallery of cells like those below, except that they have no narrow yard attached, (as those in the ground tier have,) and

are somewhat smaller. The possession of two of these is supposed to compensate for the absence of so much air and exercise as can be had in the dull strip attached to each of the others, in an hour's time, every day; and therefore every prisoner in this upper story has two cells, adjoining and communicating with each other.

"Standing at the central point, and looking down these dreary passages, the dull repose and quiet that prevails is awful. Occasionally, there is a drowsy sound from some lone weaver's shuttle, or shoemaker's last, but it is stifled by the thick walls and heavy dungeon door, and only serves to make the general stillness more profound. Over the head and face of every prisoner who comes into this melancholy house, a black hood is drawn; and in this dark shroud, an emblem of the curtain dropped between him and the living world, he is led to the cell from which he never again comes forth until his whole term of imprisonment has expired. He never hears of wife or children, home or friends, the life or death of any single creature. He sees the Prison officers; but, with that exception, he never looks upon a human countenance, or hears a human voice. He is a man buried alive, to be dug out in the slow round of years, and in the mean time dead to every thing but torturing anxieties and horrible despair.

"His name, and crime, and term of suffering, are unknown, even to the officer who delivers him his daily food. There is a number over his cell door, and in a book, of which the governor of the prison has one copy, and the moral instructor another. This is the index to his history. Beyond these pages the Prison has no record of his existence; and though he live to be in the same cell ten weary years, he has no means of knowing, down to the very last hour, in what part of the building it is situated; what kind of men there are about him; whether, in the long winter nights, there are living people near, or he is in some lonely corner of the great Jail, with walls, and passages, and iron doors, between him and the nearest sharer in its solitary horrors.

"Every cell has double doors; the outer one of sturdy oak, the other of grated iron, wherein there is a trap, through which his food is handed. He has a Bible and a slate and pencil, and, under certain restrictions, has sometimes other books, provided for the purpose, and pen, and ink, and paper. His razor, plate, and can, and basin, hang upon the wall, or shine upon the little shelf. Fresh water is laid on in every cell, and he can draw it at his pleasure. During the day, his bedstead turns up against the wall, and leaves more space for him to work in. His loom, or bench, or wheel, is there; and there he labors, sleeps, and wakes, and counts the seasons as they change, and grows old.

The first man I saw was seated at his loom, at work. He had been there six years, and was to remain, I think, three more. He had been convicted as a receiver of stolen goods, but, even after this long imprisonment, denied his guilt, and said he had been hardly dealt by. It was his second offence.

"He stopped his work when we went in, took off his spectacles, and answered freely to every thing that was said to him, but always with a strange kind of pause first, in a low, thoughtful voice. He wore a paper hat of his own making, and was pleased to have it noticed and commended. He had very ingeniously manufactured a sort of Dutch clock from some disregarded odds and ends; and his vinegar-bottle served for the pendulum. Seeing me interested in this contrivance, he looked up at it with a great deal of pride, and said that he had been thinking of improving it, and that he hoped the hammer and a little piece of broken glass beside it would play music before long.' He had extracted some colors from the yarn with which he worked, and painted a few poor figures on the wall. One, of a female, over the door, he called The Lady of the Lake.'

"He smiled as I looked at these contrivances to wile away the time; but when I looked from them to him, I saw that his lip trembled, and could have counted the beating of his heart. I forget how it came about, but some allu

sion was made to his having a wife. He shook his head at the word, turned aside, and covered his face with his hands.

"But you are resigned now!' said one of the gentlemen, after a short pause, during which he had resumed his former manner. sigh that seemed quite reckless in his hopelessness. resigned to it.' And are a better man, you think?? sure I hope I may be.' And time goes pretty quickly?' gentlemen, within these four walls!

6

He answered with a 'O yes, O yes! I am 'Well, I hope so: I'm Time is very long,

6

"He gazed about him- Heaven only knows how wearily as he said these words, and, in the act of doing so, fell into a strange stare, as if he had forgotten something. A moment afterwards, he sighed heavily, put on his spectacles, and went about his work again.

"In another cell, there was a German, sentenced to five years' imprisonment for larceny, two of which had just expired. With colors procured in the same manner, he had painted every inch of the walls and ceiling quite beautifully. He had laid out the few feet of ground, behind, with exquisite neatness, and had made a little bed in the centre, that looked, by the by, like a grave. The taste and ingenuity he had displayed in every thing were most extraordinary; and yet a more dejected, heart-broken, wretched creature, it would be difficult to imagine. I never saw such a picture of forlorn affliction and distress of mind. My heart bled for him; and when the tears ran down his cheeks, and he took one of the visitors aside, to ask, with his trembling hands nervously clutching at his coat to detain him, whether there was no hope of his dismal sentence being commuted, the spectacle was really too painful to witness. I never saw or heard of any kind of misery that impressed me more than the wretchedness of this man.

"In a third cell was a tall, strong black, a burglar, working at his proper trade of making screws and the like. His time was nearly out. He was not only a very dexterous thief, but was notorious for his boldness and hardihood, and for the number of his previous convictions. He entertained us with a long account of his achievements, which he related with such infinite relish, that he actually seemed to lick his lips as he told us racy anecdotes of stolen plate, and of old ladies whom he had watched as they sat at windows in silver spectacles, (he had plainly had an eye to their metal even from the other side of the street,) and had afterwards robbed. This fellow, upon the slightest encouragement, would have mingled with his professional recollections the most detestable cant; but I am very much mistaken if he could have surpassed the unmitigated hypocrisy with which he declared that he blessed the day on which he came into that Prison, and that he never would commit another robbery as long as he lived.

"There was one man who was allowed, as an indulgence, to keep rabbits. His room having rather a close smell in consequence, they called to him at the door to come out in the passage. He complied, of course, and stood shading his haggard face in the unwonted sunlight of the great window, looking as wan and unearthly as if he had been summoned from the grave. He had a white rabbit in his breast; and when the little creature, getting down upon the ground, stole back into the cell, and he, being dismissed, crept timidly after it, I thought it would have been very hard to say in what respect the man was the nobler animal of the two.

There was an English thief, who had been there but a few days out of seven years; a villanous, low-browed, thin-lipped fellow, with a white face, who had as yet no relish for visitors, and who, but for the additional penalty, would have gladly stabbed me with his shoemaker's knife.

"There was another German, who had entered the Jail but yesterday, and who started from his bed when we looked in, and pleaded, in his broken English, very hard for work. There was a poet, who, after doing two days work in every four-and-twenty hours, one for himself and one for the Prison, wrote verses about ships, (he was by trade a mariner,) and the maddening

wine-cup,' and his friends at home. There were very many of them. Some reddened at the sight of visitors, and some turned very pale. Some two or three had prisoner nurses with them, for they were very sick; and one fat old negro, whose leg had been taken off within the Jail, had for his attendant a classical scholar and an accomplished surgeon, himself a prisoner likewise. Sitting upon the stairs, engaged in some slight work, was a pretty colored boy. 'Is there no refuge for young criminals in Philadelphia, then?' said I. Yes, but only for white children.' Noble aristocracy in crime!

"There was a sailor, who had been there upwards of eleven years, and who in a few months' time would be free. Eleven years of solitary confinement! "I am very glad to hear your time is nearly out.' What does he say? Nothing. Why does he stare at his hands, and pick the flesh upon his fingers, and raise his eyes for an instant, every now and then, to those bare walls, which have seen his head turn gray? It is a way he has sometimes.

"Does he never look men in the face, and does he always pluck at those hands of his, as though he were bent on parting skin and bone? It is his humor: nothing more.

"It is his humor, too, to say that he does not look forward to going out; that he is not glad the time is drawing near; that he did look forward to it once, but that was very long ago; that he has lost all care for every thing. It is his humor to be a helpless, crushed, and broken man. And Heaven be his witness that he has his humor thoroughly gratified!

"There were three young women in adjoining cells, all convicted at the same time of a conspiracy to rob their prosecutor. In the silence and solitude of their lives, they had grown to be quite beautiful. Their looks were very sad, and might have moved the sternest visitor to tears, but not to that kind of sorrow which the contemplation of the men awakens. One was a young girl, not twenty, as 1 recollect, whose snow-white room was hung with the work of some former prisoner, and upon whose downcast face the sun in all its splendor shone down through the high chink in the wall, where one narrow strip of bright blue sky was visible. She was very penitent and quiet; had come to be resigned, she said, (and I believe her ;) and had a mind at peace. In a word, you are happy here?' said one of my companions. She struggled — she did struggle very hard to answer, Yes; but, raising her eyes, and meeting that glimpse of freedom overhead, she burst into tears, and said, 'She tried to be; she uttered no complaint; but it was natural that she should sometimes long to go out of that one cell; she could not help that,' she sobbed, poor thing!

"I went from cell to cell that day; and every face I saw, or word I heard, or incident I noted, is present to my mind in all its painfulness. But let me pass them by, for one, more pleasant, glance of a Prison on the same plan, which I afterwards saw at Pittsburg.

"When I had gone over that, in the same manner, I asked the governor if he had any person in his charge who was shortly going out. He had one, he said, whose time was up next day; but he had only been a prisoner two years. "Two years! I looked back through two years in my own life out of Jail, prosperous, happy, surrounded by blessings, comforts, and good fortune -- and thought how wide a gap it was, and how long those two years passed in solitary captivity would have been. I have the face of this man, who was going to be released next day, before me now. It is almost more memorable in its happiness than the other faces in their misery. How easy and how natural it was for him to say that the system was a good one; and that the time went "pretty quick-considering;' and that, when a man once felt he had offended the law, and must satisfy it, he got along, somehow;' and so forth!

"What did he call you back to say to you, in that strange flutter?' I asked of my conductor, when he had locked the door and joined me in the passage. "O! that he was afraid that the soles of his boots were not fit for walking, as they were a good deal worn when he came in; and that he would thank me very much to have them mended, ready.'