Recollections of Windsor Prison; / Containing Sketches of its History and Discipline, with Appropriate Strictures and Moral and Religious Reflection

In this case it was necessary to remove the man to the hospital four times, to enable him to endure fifty-six days solitary. The Secretary saw him when he was removed from the cell the last time. He shivered like an aspen leaf; his pulse was very feeble; his articulation could scarcely be heard from his bed to the grate of his cell, eight feet; and when he was taken out, he could with difficulty stand alone.

At half past seven o'clock, on Wednesday morning, he was found dead, having hung himself to the grate of the cell with a piece of the lashing of his hammock.

Isaac Martin cut his throat in his cell July 26, when he was removed to the hospital, where he remained nine days, and died.

This man remained in the hospital, after his discharge from the cell the last time, from September 17 till December 3, when he was pardoned on account of ill health.

This man endured the whole period, without leaving the cell.

"Asa Allen was sentenced to six months solitary and two years three months and fourteen days hard labor. He went immediately into solitary, and remained seventy-four days without interruption. At the end of this period, he came out in good health, and performed a good day's labor in the quarry. Dr. Rose expresses the opinion, that this man would live in solitary confinement about as well and as long as any where else. He has been a soldier, and has been accustomed to the hardships of a camp. He has been a wanderer in the world, without a home. It is not material to him where he is. The keeper thinks that six months solitary to this man would not be a greater punishment than fifteen days to a convict who had been accustomed to the comforts of life: also, that he would rather endure six months solitary confinement than ten stripes.

"John Stevens and John Cain both entered the Prison at the same time, under sentence of three months solitary, and both endured the whole period without interruption, having received nothing except the usual allowance of bread and water, and a little camphor to rub on their heads.

"Benjamin Williams, also, endured three months solitary without interruption.

"But, in general, the superintendent states, that nearly as much time is necessary in the hospital to fulfil long solitary sentences, as in the cells. He also expresses an opinion, in his last report to the Legislature, that long periods of solitary imprisonment inflicted on convicts, is worse than useless as a means of reformation. The character of the superintendent of this Prison is such, that the opinions expressed by him on this subject, as the results of his experience, will be thought worthy of particular consideration. He says, 'the great diversity of character, as it respects habits and temperament of body and mind, renders solitary imprisonment a very unequal punishment. Some persons will endure solitary confinement without appearing to be much debilitated, either in body or mind, while others sink under much less, and, if the punishment was unremittingly continued, would die, or become incurably insane.

'However persons of strong minds, who suffer in what they deem a righteous cause, may be able to endure solitary confinement, and retain their bodily and mental vigor, yet it is not to be expected of criminals, with minds discouraged by conviction and disgrace.

'Those persons who shudder at the cruelty of inflicting stripes as a punishment, but can contemplate the case of a fellow being, suffering a long period of solitary imprisonment, without emotion, must be grossly ignorant of the mental and bodily suffering endured by a long confinement in solitude.

'As far as the experience in our State Prison proves any thing respecting the efficacy of solitary imprisonment in preventing crimes by reforming convicts, it will induce us to believe that it is not more effectual than confinement to hard labor. Seven of the convicts now in the State Prison are committed a second time, for crimes perpetrated after having been discharged from this Prison; three of these had been punished by solitary imprisonment without labor, and the others by solitary imprisonment and confinement to hard labor.

'The keeper of the Auburn State Prison, in the State of New York, very justly observes, 'that a degree of mental distress and anguish may be necessary to humble and reform an offender; but carry it too far, and he will become a savage in his temper and feelings, or he will sink in despair. There is no doubt, that uninterrupted solitude tends to sour the feelings, destroy the affections, harden the heart, and induce men to cultivate a spirit of revenge, or drive them to despair.'

'I would not wish to be understood to express an opinion, that solitary imprisonment ought not, in any case, to be inflicted. On the contrary, there can be no doubt that it is a proper punishment for prison discipline in many cases; but for that purpose, short periods only will be necessary; seldom, if ever, to exceed ten days. In the cases of juvenile offenders, it may also be very useful and proper, in periods of twenty, or thirty days, but never to exceed sixty days. If repentance and amendment are not effected by thirty days of strict solitary confinement, it can rarely be expected to be obtained by a longer period.'

"The Legislature of Maine, in consideration of the opinions and facts above stated, passed a law, in February, 1827, in the words following: 'Be it enacted, that all punishments, by imprisonment in the State Prison, shall be by confinement to hard labor, and not by solitary imprisonment: provided, that nothing herein contained shall preclude the use of solitary confinement as a prison discipline for the government and good order of the prisoners.' Thus we have endeavored to exhibit the results of the experience of the State of Maine, in regard to solitary imprisonment day and night.

"In New Hampshire, Moses C. Pilsbury, Esq. who has been several years the warden of that Prison, the surprising results of whose good management, both in regard to the income and the moral character of the Institution, were exhibited in the last Report, was asked, whether convicts ought not to be sentenced to solitary confinement day and night, for a short time at least. He said it would do much more good to give them hard labor by day, and solitary confinement at night.

"At Auburn, N. Y., the experiment was tried in 1822, by the friends of solitary confinement day and night, on eighty convicts, for a period of ten months. The experiment was conducted with great care, and the observations made appear to have been impartial. As it was done by the friends of the system, it may be supposed that the results were as favorable as they could make them. In the Report of the Commissioners to the Legislature, in January, 1825, these results are stated with philosophical accuracy. Concerning these results, it is sufficient to say, that they were unfavorable to this mode of punishment, and it was accordingly abandoned in that Prison. It was found, in many instances, to injure the health; to impair the reason; to endanger the life; to leave the men enfeebled and unable to work when they left the Prison, and as ignorant of any useful business as when they were committed; and, consequently, more productive of recommitments, and less of reformation, than solitary confinement at night and hard labor by day.

"The experiment in New Jersey has been continued four years, upon an average number of twelve convicts; some of whom have been eighteen months, and some two years, in the cells, without intermission; but in this case, though the men are in separate cells, still the cells are so arranged, that several men can converse as freely as if they were in the same room, and no attempt has been made to prevent it. This, therefore, is to be regarded no farther as an experiment on solitary confinement day and night, than as keeping the men from seeing or coming in contact with each other; but not from evil communication, and corrupt society. In the opinion of the keeper of that Prison, this mode of punishment has been useful in preventing recommitments, and not permanently injurious to health or reason. How far the difference in the results of this experiment from that at Auburn, and the other in Maine, is to be attributed to the difference in the construction of the cells, and the management and diet of the prisoners, it is difficult to determine. In Maine the cells are very gloomy, and communication is difficult, though not impossible. At Auburn the cells are not gloomy, and communication was prevented day and night by a sentinel. In New Jersey the cells are not gloomy, and social intercourse unrestrained. In Maine the diet was very low, i.e. a pound of bread and cold water only. At Auburn, and in New Jersey, it was coarse, but nutritious. In Maine the men might have endured solitary confinement, with a more nutritious diet, a much longer period. At Auburn they might not have been as much injured in health or reason, if they had been permitted to converse with each other. And in New Jersey they might have been more injured if this kind of communication had been restrained. As the experiments have been conducted, they appear to be decidedly against solitary confinement day and night in Maine and at Auburn, and in favor of it in New Jersey. As this mode of punishment, however, would probably never be adopted, except to prevent effectually all evil communication, the experiment in New Jersey cannot be adduced in favor of entire seclusion: for there was nothing of this character in it.

"There have been other experiments made in this country, in many Prisons, on individuals, in regard to this mode of punishment, sometimes for misdemeanor, and sometimes for experiment merely. One was mentioned in the last Report. 'A man in a narrow cell, which was almost a dungeon, where he had been in heavy chains, on a small allowance of food, three months, was asked whether he had rather remain three months longer, in the same situation, than receive a small number of stripes on his bare back. He said he had rather remain.' It is not known, that this man had had any communication with any one except his keeper, and his diet had been much more nutritious than that used in Maine. In the mode in which he was treated, his spirits appeared perfectly unsubdued, and his health and reason unimpaired, and his disposition ready for mischief whenever he should be released. There was nothing seen in him that looked like contrition.

"There is another man, who has been in a solitary cell much of the time for seventeen years, and all the time for more than six of the last years. He is still alive. He does not appear insane. His health is feeble, and he has lost the use of his limbs, so that he uses crutches. His disposition, however, remains the same as when he was committed to the cell, more than six years ago. He had been previously released, and put upon his honor for good behaviour. He almost immediately procured a hatchet, and struck it into the neck of a keeper, in such a manner as to endanger his life. He was again committed to the cell, where he has remained ever since, with a malignant, revengeful spirit; as is evident from the fact, that he attempted to take the life, a few months since, of a keeper, who gave him his food. His cell is gloomy and filthy. His food is coarse but nutritious. His intercourse is in a great degree restrained.

"In regard to the effect of solitary confinement on the individuals last mentioned, as well as on those who were subject to it in Maine, New York, and New Jersey, it is true, that they were left to suffer their punishment, during the whole period, destitute, in a great degree, of the means of grace. In the new Prison in Philadelphia, in which it is proposed to adopt this mode of punishment, and prevent evil communication by solitary confinement day and night, it has been said, by one of the Commissioners, that he should rather abandon the system, and adopt that of solitary confinement at night, and hard labor by day, than see the men confined in the cells day and night, without the means of grace. We may hope, therefore, if the experiment is again tried, it will not be done without adequate provision for moral and religious instruction. How far it may be successful with this variation cannot be told until the experiment has been made.

"As the experiments have been conducted, thus far, the results are decidedly opposed to solitary confinement day and night, as the means of preventing evil communication. We are left, therefore, in view of all the facts known to us, with a preference for solitary confinement at night, and hard labor by day, with such regulations to prevent evil communication as the case requires, and as have been already suggested."

Whose heart does not sicken within him on reading such accounts of human suffering and human guilt? I have mentioned several specimens of cruelty which I saw in Windsor Prison; and to show that man is the same being under similar circumstances everywhere, I will avail myself of another quotation from the Reports of this Society, in respect to New Jersey State Prison. It is in the fifth Report, page 86.

"Solitary confinement on a scanty allowance of bread with cold water is much used. The period of time not unfrequently extends to twenty and thirty days, and this too in the winter season, in cells warmed by no fire. The suffering in these circumstances is intense; the convicts lose their flesh and strength, and frequently their health; they are sometimes so far broken down, as to be unable to work when they are discharged into the yard, and to require nearly as much time in the hospital, to recruit them, as they have had in the cells, to break them down.

"The committee saw a man in the hospital last week, just taken from the cells, where he had been punished for misdemeanor about twenty days. He was prostrate upon the bed, emaciated, and unable to work, and complained of much pain. The physician called the attention of the committee to his pulse, which he remarked was very feeble. The keeper thought it would be some time before he would be able to work.

"Besides punishments in this mode, the records show, that chains are much used; sometimes with a fifty-six attached to them, and sometimes for the purpose of chaining the prisoner to the place where he is at work. A number of the prisoners, at the present time, have chains upon them, and the committee saw one, twelve or fourteen years of age, who had on an iron neck yoke, with arms extending 18 or 20 inches each way from his head, which was said to be, not for punishment, but to prevent his getting through the grates.

"The following list is furnished by the clerk of the Prison, who has been there twenty years. It shows the number of prisoners that is supposed to have died in consequence of being severely punished in the cells, for disobedience;—William Thomas, Thomas Steward, John O. Brian, William Bower, John Brown, Tunis Cole, Aaron Strattain, Thomas Somes, Pomp Cisco, and Peter Marks—10."

Reader, what think you of this? It is said that the laws of America are written with mercy; but are they not often executed in blood? From such mercy as this, gracious Heaven deliver us! "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God," but it is better to fall into his hands than the hands of man. Are not the tender mercies of the wicked cruel? Look at the State Prisons and see. They are called merciful, but their floors are reeking with blood, and their cells are vocal with the groans of death.—Pardon this digression from the subject; I will return to it immediately. Any where, to banish these reflections, which wither up my soul!—

In respect to stripes, the Society uses the following language. First Report, pages 17-19.

"Mode of Punishment.—The punishments used in these institutions now claim our attention. These are stripes, chains, and solitary confinement, with hunger. In regard to these different modes of punishment, there is a considerable diversity of opinion and practice, in this country. In some extensive establishments, chains and stripes are dispensed with altogether. In others, both are used severely. In others still, stripes alone are used. At Auburn, stripes are almost the only mode of punishment. In Richmond, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York city, Charlestown, and Concord, solitary confinement mostly, with a small allowance of bread and water. In Connecticut, stripes, chains, solitary confinement, and severe hunger. If the efficacy of these different modes of punishment were to be judged of by the discipline of the respective institutions, punishment by stripes, as at Auburn, would be preferred. The difference, in the order, industry, and subdued feeling, as exhibited by the prisoners, is greatly in favour of the prison at Auburn. This difference, however, is to be attributed, not so much to the mode of punishment, as to the separation of the convicts at night, and several other salutary regulations, which are not adopted elsewhere. At the same time, a part of the difference is supposed by the friends of this system, to arise from the mode of punishment. In favor of this mode, the advocates of it urge the following reasons; it requires less time; the mind of the prisoner does not brood over it, and settle down in deliberate resentment and malignity; it is in some cases more effectual; it is less severe; it can be more easily proportioned to the offence.

That it requires less time, there can be no doubt; and if in other respects, it is as good or better, it is for this reason to be preferred.

That the mind of the prisoner does not brood over it, as over solitary confinement and hunger, there can be no doubt. But then it would be said by the advocates of solitary confinement, that this is an argument against stripes, because the effect is not so permanent. It may be said in reply, that if the effect of punishment is bad, it ought not to be permanent, and men often appear subdued by solitary confinement and hunger, merely for the sake of being relieved, while in their hearts, there is a rankling enmity against the mode of punishment, and the person inflicting it. If this effect is produced, the punishment, so far as the convict is concerned, is injurious. That this is the fact, in many instances, those who have been conversant with prisoners have melancholy evidence.

But while this is admitted, it is also true, that the instances are numerous, in which solitary confinement, with low diet, have not failed to subdue men, who appear to be hardened against every other mode of punishment. The officers of the New Hampshire and Philadelphia Penitentiaries bear testimony to this. And moreover, that the end is often gained, in much less time, than it was supposed would be necessary.

It is objected, however, to solitary confinement, that it is a mode of punishment which operates unequally. If a man has been fond of society; if his mind has been cultivated; if his sensibility is acute; solitary confinement is a terrible punishment. If, on the contrary, the man is a mere animal; if he is stupid, and ignorant, and carnal; if the operations of his mind are dull and sleepy; if, in one word, he is like the torpid animals, (and there are men of this description,) solitary confinement is much less severe than stripes.

Nor is solitary confinement, in the former case, a more severe and effectual mode of punishment, especially if the convict is a proud man; nor is it as much so, as stripes. A man in a narrow cell, which was almost a dungeon, where he had been in heavy chains, on a small allowance of food, three months, was asked whether he had rather remain three months longer, in the same situation, than receive a small number of stripes on his bare back. He said he had rather remain.

It should be stated, however, that his allowance of food had not been so much diminished, as greatly to reduce his body, as is sometimes the case. In those cases, where the allowance of food is six or eight ounces of bread per day, with water only; and in those cells, which in winter are warmed by no fire, solitary confinement produces the most intense and aggravated suffering. In such cases, there is nothing but death, which the most obdurate villain would not endure to be relieved from it, after a confinement generally of less than thirty days. In these cases, it is difficult to tell, whether the cold, the hunger, the pangs of a guilty conscience, the fear of death, the wretchedness of being subjected to revenge and malignity, is the greatest cause of suffering, and whether each of them is not equal to the pain of solitary confinement. Stripes, in comparison with solitary confinement, in such circumstances, are not severe.

It is obvious, from these remarks, that the severity, and effect, and adaptation of punishment to crime, depends more on the manner, than on the kind of punishment.—Stripes may be made, and it is believed in more instances than one in our Penitentiaries, have been made, to result in death. Solitary confinement has brought men to a state of insensibility, and in some cases produced diseases, which have terminated in death. Chains so heavy have been used, and for so long a time, as to mar the flesh, and produce most painful wounds. It is perfectly obvious from these remarks, that punishment, of whatever kind, should be committed to persons of discretion, and that there should be some checks to prevent abuses.

It is, also, obvious, that different modes may be adapted to different individuals and circumstances, and that discretionary power, as to the mode, as well as the manner, ought to be left with the government of the Prison.

It is obvious, too, that the best security, which society can have, that suitable punishments will be inflicted in a suitable manner, MUST arise from the character of the men to whom the government of the Prison is entrusted.—There are men, whom no laws would restrain from indiscretion and cruelty if not barbarity, in punishment. There are others, whose humanity is excessive, and they would never punish at all. To men of either class, the power of punishment, and the management of Penitentiaries should not be entrusted."

Another part of the discipline recommended by the Society, is expressed as follows. Second Report, pages 37, 38.

"The lock march from the shops to the cells, and from the cells to the shops. This consists in forming all the men, under the care of each keeper, into a solid column, and requiring them to march off, at the same time, with a uniform step, in a solid body. The object is to prevent the prisoners, "when their cells are unlocked, from flocking confusedly into the yard, and at the sound of the bell for meals, from moving like an undisciplined mob to the mess-room." This is generally an evil hour with prisoners; if any conspiracy or rebellion is under consideration, it is then communicated. In the mode proposed, it is a time of as much order and silence as any other during the day. It is, in fact, a peculiarly favorable time to see the order and regularity produced in Prison by salutary discipline; and if any one hour were to be selected, while the prisoners are awake, in which they do nothing and attempt nothing of an improper character, probably no hour could be found more free from guilt than this. Another regulation of considerable importance in preventing evil communication is,

Not letting the convicts face each other when their business will permit them to face the same way. This rule may be adopted in shops, for shoemakers, tailors, and weavers: also, among female convicts, when employed in sewing, knitting, and spinning: and on the Sabbath, when assembled in the chapel. In this way, the language of signs, whether by the hands or features, is prevented; for the signs signify nothing if they are not seen. Now if the king of counterfeiters, or a prince in any department of wickedness, can be placed in the end of a long shop, and be permitted to sit with his face towards the convicts, and have them all facing him, he will be very happy in the opportunity of communicating ideas by the language of signs; but, turning his back to the convicts, and his face to the wall, he will feel differently. The principle, therefore, of not permitting the convicts to face each other, when their business will permit them to face the same way, is believed to be one of considerable importance."

Such are some of the means by which The Prison Discipline Society contemplates the accomplishment of its object; and I disapprove of them in toto. All its views through these means are founded on theory, and this theory is opposed by a thousand facts. Universal experience attests the fact that nothing but goodness will reform a sinner. Unfeeling and despotic inflictions will make the sufferer an enemy to his race, and in some instances, awe his sinful propensities into inaction, but these things will not—cannot make him love either his God or his fellow beings. The process on which I have been dwelling, and which the Society would call sacred by asserting that neglect of or opposition to it is guilt, would make angels men, and men devils, and devils worse. I know that future facts will justify this strong language. I am guided by no theory, but am taught by my own experience.

In the course of these sketches, I have occasionally reflected on the conduct of the officers of prisons; and asserted that fit men to govern a prison in such a manner as to make it a penitentiary, cannot be found on earth. The labors of this Society have furnished the following corroborative facts.—second Report, pages 7-8.

"In the Maine Prison, which has been in operation only three years, Dr. Rose, the superintendent, stated that three or four cases of malpractice had already occurred among the assistant keepers; such as intemperance, furnishing forbidden articles to convicts, &c., for which they had been discharged.

In the New Hampshire Prison, Mr. Pillsbury, the former superintendent, mentioned, as one of the greatest difficulties in the Penitentiary system, the insubordination occasioned by the frequent changes among the assistant keepers, and the difficulty of obtaining men of proper character for the compensation allowed them. Escapes have been effected in that Prison, either through the negligence or connivance of assistant keepers, and improper familiarity has been contracted between them and the convicts.

In the Massachusetts Prison, a keeper was detected, three times in succession, by Mr. Soley, one of the Directors, in furnishing bills to be altered, and materials to alter them, to a convict. A warrant was issued for him; but he made his escape. Another keeper was discharged soon after, on suspicion of improper conduct; and in a communication, made by the Directors to the Governor, in the autumn of 1825, and by him submitted to the Legislature, several other cases are mentioned of malpractice by contractors and assistant keepers, and discharge for the same.

In Newgate, the Old Prison in Granby, Conn., there has been great complaint on this ground.

Thomas Eddy, of New York, in a pamphlet on Prison Discipline, mentions a case, in which a number of desperate villains, in one room, within the walls of a Prison, were engaged in the business of counterfeit money, and were enabled to prosecute it by the connivance and assistance of a keeper.

Even in the Prison at Auburn, which is in many respects so worthy of commendation, the Commissioners mention, in a late Report to the Legislature, that "one Terrence Heeney who was never fit for the trust of a guard, was three times appointed to that place, and three times removed for misconduct." They also say, that "several other cases have been proved of the appointment of incompetent or unfit men; but, in general, they were removed as soon as their unfitness became known."

Mr. Lynds, the superintendent of the Prison at Sing Sing, speaks of the character required in this situation as peculiar: viz. equanimity, quick discernment of character, impartiality, resolution, vigilance, promptitude, besides honesty and temperance, and, more than all, a habit of seeing much and saying little. He has not been without his difficulties in getting the right men. He mentions a case, in which an assistant keeper at Auburn was detected in employing convicts to steal for him.

Roberts Vaux, of Philadelphia, in a pamphlet entitled 'Original and successive Efforts to improve the Condition of Prisons,' &c., mentions, that, in the Prison in Philadelphia, many years since, 'the keeper had been a long time connected with criminals, under circumstances which caused him to be suspected of a more intimate knowledge of the depredations committed in the city, than comported with that unblemished reputation which ought to belong to such an officer.'

In the Baltimore Penitentiary, an officer was understood to say, that two assistant keepers had been discharged for circulating counterfeit money for convicts."

There is another part of the discipline recommended by this Society, of which I cordially approve; it is that which relates to religious instruction. May God bless all their labours to give this part of their discipline a permanent residence in every prison on earth! I expect the time when prisons will be purified from sin—I expect a time when they will be no longer needed—and I expect this through the universal and perfect diffusion of the principles of the gospel. "When in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe." The means of grace, then, are the only means of reformation. The means of cruelty can effect no good in any heart. The gospel, the gospel; this is the power of God unto salvation, and this alone can effect a salutary change in the soul.

I hold to punishment, but it is the punishment of mercy. Let the sinner endure the consequences of his crime, but let goodness inflict the rod. Let his punishment be severe, if necessary, but never capricious; let its object be the good of the sufferer, not vengeance; and when he is penitent, let the punishment cease.

But the reformation of prisoners is only a small fraction in the reformations which are called for. The whole world needs reforming; and the reformation of prisoners will keep pace only with the reformation of those who are free; and as long as these places must be under the control of corrupt and depraved minds, alas for the cause of reform! Some of the iniquity of prison keepers has been discovered by the public eye, but what has been seen by that eye, is only a drop to a fountain, compared with the whole.—Enough is known about the guilt of prisoners, because the keepers who make the report are believed; but the keepers have no observers of their conduct but prisoners, and these are not credited when they tell the truth. It is believed in general, that prison keepers are tyrants. The voice of every age and country unites in describing this class of men as coming the nearest of any in moral resemblance to Satan; and yet no prisoner is believed when he complains of abuse. Let some great Howard go through the prisons in the United States, and take his accounts from prisoners as well as keepers, and he will give a different Report from the one before me. There is as much need of a society to reform keepers, as there ever can be to reform prisoners; and there can be but little ground to hope for success in prison till the keepers become not merely honest men but pious christians.

My statements in respect to the destruction of the chapel and the neglect of the means of grace in the Windsor Prison, are confirmed by the Reports of this Society. In the FIRST REPORT, pages 32, 33, the Society say, that, "In the Vermont Penitentiary, one hundred dollars only are appropriated for religious instruction. The chapel has been converted into a weaver's shop. The services on the Sabbath are irregular, and the Scriptures are not daily read to the assembled convicts."—Second report, page 56, "The duties of Chaplain are very irregularly discharged. In truth there is no stated Chaplain whose services can be relied on."

One quotation more on this subject is all that I can now make. It is from the SEVENTH REPORT, page 10. "The legislature of Vermont, at the last session, provided by law an additional compensation for a Chaplain; so that the state now pays three hundred dollars per annum for this service, and a chaplain has been appointed to discharge the duties of the office."

Will the Secretary of this Society be so good as to inform the public in his next Report, how much service the Chaplain in the Vermont Penitentiary renders for his salary of three hundred dollars?

My time does not permit me to copy any more from the Reports of this Society. In the remarks that I have made upon its doings, I have had no design to impugn its motives. I doubt not that the managers of the Society mean to do good. I impeach not their views, but I doubt the wisdom of their policy. I know what they never can; and I am only opposing facts and experience to a fair but deceptive theory. The hope of effecting a reformation among prisoners, by stripes and solitary cells, can never be realized. It will be of no use for me to reason on this subject, for I am too small to be noticed. Nothing that I can say will tell on the great minds which compose the Society whose doings I condemn. But I must be allowed to give my opinion. "The Prison Discipline Society" is combining the talent of the country, and the wealth of the country, for a purpose which appears to itself benevolent, but which will, past all doubt, result in sinking our prisons to the lowest point of cruelty, and the darkest region of despair; and from his knowledge of human character and the effect of cruelty on the heart, I should suppose that Lucifer would be its most efficient patron.

A few lines more and I shall have done with this article. I was in Windsor when Rev. Lewis Dwight, the Secretary of the Society, visited that prison. I know from what source he obtained his information, and I know how extremely imperfect was some of the account he obtained, and how much was hidden from him entirely. And taking what relates to this prison, in his Reports, as a specimen of what he has related of other prisons, I am certain that much more light is needed to guide him to the evils of penitentiaries, and to their cure, than he has yet obtained, Prisoners ought to have been consulted, as well as keepers; an ex parte examination contains only part of the truth. Prisoners ought to be treated by christians on terms of equality, if any good is to be effected in the work of reformation; and before any thing can be done to effect their lasting good, they must be treated with kindness and respect. No other means can reform them. You may snarl them into sin, and tread them down to hell, but you must love them into repentance, and support them up the ascent to heaven.

DESIGN OF PENITENTIARIES IN RESPECT TO THE TREATMENT OF CONVICTS, ACCORDING TO THE VIEWS OF THE DIRECTORS OF THE CONNECTICUT STATE PRISON, WITH REMARKS.

"Upon the subject of the general treatment of the convicts, and the discipline of the institution, we would remark that the State Prison is designed to be, and emphatically is, a place of PUNISHMENT. The feelings of humanity and mistaken mercy should not be suffered to interpose, to disarm its punishment of that rigor due to justice and the violated laws of the land. While a proper regard is had to the health of its inmates, their comfort should not be so far studied as to render it a desirable residence, even to those whose condition in society is attended with the severest privations. When this becomes the case, our criminal code becomes a bounty law for crime."—Sixth Report, page 94.

This is throwing off the mask completely, and boldly declaring that "punishment," SEVERE punishment, a punishment in which there is no tincture of "humanity," is the design, and emphatically, the discipline, of that prison. The comfort of the prisoner is not to be sought in any way inconsistent with punishment without humanity. His reformation is not to be sought at all. A more unsound and disgraceful principle of penitentiary discipline, was never avowed by any similar committee in this country before; but it is the very one on which all American penitentiaries are governed. "That rigor due to Justice and the violated laws of the land!" Yes; "Justice and the violated laws," demand "rigor." It is not enough to have the sinner securely confined—he must be uncomfortable. His health must be attended to; let him live; but his cup of gall must be full and overflowing. Let him live—not for comfort, but to groan in the ear of heaven the "rigor" of "Justice" and of the "violated laws." Punishment is God's "strange work," his "strange act," but it is the common work of his creatures.

According to my views of a penitentiary, it is not unqualifiedly, a place of punishment, but a place of reformation, to be effected by the mildest means, and to be under the constant direction of humanity. Cruelty never should enter its walls. Satan was no more out of his place in Eden, than is cruelty in a place of reformation.

As to a criminal code's becoming "a bounty law for crime," when its discipline for prisons is such as to render them a desirable residence, to those who are suffering even the "severest privations" in society, that Committee need have no fears. There is no danger of any prisons ever becoming so mild as to be a desirable residence for any one. Take the purest apartment in heaven, and confine a seraph there, and the simple fact that he was a prisoner would make his home a hell. The Devil himself would prefer liberty in the world of woe, to imprisonment even in Paradise—freedom with damnation, to salvation with restraint.

THE MEANS OF EFFECTING A REFORMATION AMONG PRISONERS.

On this subject many an enthusiast has speculated, and many a fine and beautiful theory has charmed the benevolent mind. The sacred orator from the desk, inspired by the genius of his faith, and warm amidst the holy fires of the altar, has often brought the miserable tenants of the dungeon within the sympathies of his weeping hearers. Clothed with the robes of state, the philanthropist has often urged the claims of prisoners upon the consideration of councils and legislatures. For eighteen hundred years have the altar and the throne sent abroad, in tones of commiseration, the suffering and neglected condition of prisoners; but what has been the result? Prisons are as numerous as ever, and almost every season sees a new one erected. The annual volume of crimes is as huge and black as ever. The gloom of these earthly hells is undissipated by the charm of operative benevolence. And though it is two thousand years since the foundations of christianity were laid in the earth—that heavenly principle which was to say to the prisoners, "go forth,"—the notes of its rejoicing ascend in faint association with the deep-toned sigh of despair and misery, which is hourly bursting from the grated cell. Alas! for the times. But why have the benevolent and christian spirits of every age laboured in vain, and spent their strength for naught? The answer is obvious.

They have acted on a mistaken theory. They have confided in the integrity and benevolence of those to whose immediate care prisoners are committed, where nothing is more true than that prison keepers are, and ever have been, the cruelest of men. They have gone the whole round of experiment—imprisonment and hard labour, solitary confinement, transportation, stripes, cropping and branding—the whole machinery of torture and death has been put into various motion, in the ignorant hope of reforming a sinner by the sure and only means of making a devil. The science of architecture has been exhausted in experiments to construct a reformatory prison, as if the form of a cell could regenerate a vicious heart into virtue. Societies have been formed, books have been published, funds have been collected, and a "PRISON DISCIPLINE" has been put into practice, on the infatuated supposition, that a bad man can be made good by writing him a "VILLIAN" on every page that presents him to the public eye, and crushing him under a painful and torturing humiliation which would fire an angel with resentment, and make a John a Judas. Every sermon that is preached, every prayer that is made, every hymn that is sung in prisons, tells the convicts that they are sinners above all men, because they suffer such things; and it is by means like these, by audibly and impliedly thanking God that they are not like these publicans, that the ministers of mercy to prisons are labouring to reform the wicked.

Another great fault in the operations of the benevolent in favour of prisoners, is, they are objects of attention only while they are in prison. A wise physician will take care to prevent disease, and be equally careful to prevent a relapse. Not so with these physicians. They visit the patient at his sick bed for the first time, and there they remind him very graciously of the cause of his sickness, and leave him as soon as he can leave his bed. Intelligent good will embraces its objects the moment they are discovered, and never abandons them. The grand outlines of expansive and understanding benevolence are—the prevention of crime or any other misery—the comfort of the sufferer and the reformation of the criminal—and the prevention of future distress and relapse into crime. Let the pious, and virtuous, and compassionate, keep these outlines constantly in view, and never permit their efforts to relax, but increase and multiply them over every part of the ample field which the above landmarks describe.

It would be unavailing for me to propose any plan of operation in this great work. I am by far too microscopic an object in the public eye to hope for the smallest attention to any thing that I can offer. I do not, however, regret this, for I am not much enamoured with plans. The best plan would not avail any thing, without a proper spirit in the management of it, and with this, the poorest would be better than any which has yet been devised. On the spirit of prison discipline, then, I rely for success, and on this, whether they are heeded or not, I shall make a few remarks.

Those who go on errands of mercy to prisons must convince the prisoners that they are their friends, or they can do them no good; and this can be done only by being their friends. When they shall have accomplished this—when the prisoners feel that they have found friends, they will become better. With this lever, the hardest heart can be turned. Goodness finds a worshipper in the wickedest heart, and no sooner is it perceived in the holiness of its nature and the benevolence of its exercise, than the heart instinctively does it reverence and receives its impression.

The first thing then for a minister of reformation to prisons to do, is, to be good and feel a love for the sinner; and the next is, to make this goodness and love apparent by long and steady perseverance in acts of mercy.

The fact that goodness will beget its likeness in all minds that experience and perceive its effects, is taught plainly in the Scriptures. "We love God because he first loved us."—"The goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance."—"He to whom much is forgiven, the same loveth much." The song of saints in heaven is grounded on the personal benefits they have received from Christ. Christians are exhorted by the mercies of Christ to live holy and godly lives. And the Psalmist says, that they that know the name of the Lord, will put their trust in him.

The truth of these principles has been practically demonstrated by those who have been humanely and charitably conversant with the suffering poor. It has not been the benefaction, that has bound them to the hearts of the distressed, but the spirit of mild, heavenly, sympathetic, unassuming, and unaffected condescension, with which they have personally and perseveringly ministered to their wants. Not the value of the gift, but the manner and spirit of it, has converted the recipient into gratitude. All experience proves this.

"But beside the degree of purity in which this principle may exist among the most destitute of our species, it is also of importance to remark the degree of strength, in which it actually exists among the most depraved of our species. And, on this subject, do we think that the venerable Howard has bequeathed to us a most striking and valuable observation. You know the history of this man's enterprises, how his doings, and his observations, were among the veriest outcasts of humanity,—how he descended into prison houses, and there made himself familiar with all that could most revolt or terrify, in the exhibition of our fallen nature; how, for this purpose, he made the tour of Europe; but instead of walking in the footsteps of other travellers, he toiled his painful and persevering way through these receptacles of worthlessness;—and sound experimentalist as he was, did he treasure up the phenomena of our nature, throughout all the stages of misfortune, or depravity. We may well conceive the scenes of moral desolation that would often meet his eye; and that, as he looked to the hard and dauntless, and defying aspect of criminality before him, he would sicken in despair of ever finding one remnant of a purer and better principle, by which he might lay hold of these unhappy men, and convert them into the willing and the consenting agents of their own amelioration. And yet such a principle he found, and found it, he tells us, after years of intercourse, as the fruit of his greater experience, and his longer observation; and gives, as the result of it, that convicts, and that, among the most desperate of them all, are not ungovernable, and that there is a way of managing even them, and that the way is, without relaxing in one iota, from the steadiness of a calm and resolute discipline, to treat them with tenderness, and show them that you have humanity; and thus a principle, of itself so beautiful, that to expatiate upon it, gives in the eyes of some, an air of fantastic declamation to our argument, is actually deponed to, by an aged and most sagacious observer. It is the very principle of our text, and it would appear that it keeps a lingering hold of our nature, even in the last and lowest degrees of human wickedness; and that when abandoned by every other principle, this may still be detected,—that even among the most hackneyed and most hardened of malefactors, there is still about them a softer part, which will give way to the demonstrations of tenderness: that this one ingredient of a better character is still found to survive the dissipation of all others;—that, fallen as a brother may be, from the moralities which at one time adorned him, the manifested good-will of his fellow man still carries a charm and an influence along with it; and that, therefore, there lies in this an operation which, as no poverty can vitiate, so no depravity can extinguish.

"Now, this is the very principle which is brought into action, in the dealings of God with a whole world of malefactors. It looks as if he confided the whole cause of our recovery to the influence of a demonstration of good will. It is truly interesting to mark, what, in the devisings of his unsearchable wisdom, is the character which has made to stand most visibly out, in the great scheme and history of our redemption; and surely, if there be one feature of prominency more visible than another, it is the love of kindness. There appears to be no other possible way, by which a responding affection can be deposited in the heart of man. Certain it is, that the law of love cannot be carried to its ascendency over us by storm. Authority cannot command it. Strength cannot implant it. Terror cannot charm it into existence. The threatenings of vengeance may stifle, or they may repel, but they never can woo this delicate principle of our nature into a warm and confiding attachment. The human heart remains shut, in all its receptacles, against the force of all these applications; and God who knew what was in man, seems to have known, that in his dark and guilty bosom, there was but one solitary hold that he had over him, and that to reach it, he must just put on a look of graciousness; and tell us that he has no pleasure in our death, and manifest towards us the longings of a bereaved parent, and even humble himself to a suppliant in the cause of our return, and send a gospel of peace into the world, and bid his messengers to bear throughout all its habitations, the tidings of his good will to the children of men. This is the topic of his most anxious and repeated demonstrations. This manifested good will of God to his creatures, is the band of love, and the cord of a man, by which he draws them; and this one mighty principle of attraction is brought to bear upon a nature, that might have remained sullen and unmoved under any other application."—Thomas Chalmers, D. D.

The principle so eloquently and correctly stated in the above quotations from Dr. Chalmers, is fully demonstrated and exemplified by the philanthropic efforts of Mrs. Elizabeth Fry in the famous prison of Newgate, in England, an account of which is here presented to the reader. It was written by Madame Adile De Thou, but I have copied it from the Ladies' Magazine.

"Mrs. Fry, on being informed of the deplorable state of the female prisoners in Newgate, resolved to relieve them. She applied to the governor for leave of admittance; he replied that she would incur the greatest risk in visiting that abode of iniquity and disorder, which he himself scarcely dared to enter. He observed, that the language she must hear would inevitably disgust her, and made use of every argument to prevail on her to relinquish her intention.

Mrs. Fry said that she was fully aware of the danger to which she exposed herself; and repeated her solicitations for permission to enter the prison. The governor advised her not to carry in with her either her purse or her watch. Mrs. Fry replied, "I thank you, I am not afraid: I don't think I shall lose any thing."

She was shown into an apartment of the prison which contained about one hundred and sixty women; those who were condemned, and those who had not been tried, were all suffered to associate together. The children who were brought up in this school of vice, and who never spoke without an oath, added to the horror of the picture. The prisoners ate, cooked their food, and slept all in the same room. It might truly be said, that Newgate resembled a den of savages.

Mrs. Fry was not discouraged. The grace of God is infinite, the true christian never despairs. In spite of a very delicate state of health, she persevered in her pious design. The women listened to her, and gazed on her with amazement; the pure and tranquil expression of her beautiful countenance speedily softened their ferocity. It has been remarked, that if virtue could be rendered visible, it would be impossible to resist its influence; and thus may be explained the extraordinary ascendency which Mrs. Fry exercises over all whom she approaches. Virtue has indeed become visible, and has assumed the form of this benevolent lady, who is the guide and consolation of her fellow-creatures.

Mrs. Fry addressed herself to the prisoners;—"You seem unhappy," said she. "You are in want of clothes; would you not be pleased if some one came to relieve your misery?"

"Certainly," replied they, "but nobody cares for us, and where can we expect to find a friend?"

"I am come with a wish to serve you," resumed Elizabeth Fry, "and I think if you will second my endeavours, I may be of use to you."

She addressed to them the language of peace, and afforded them a glimmering of hope. She spoke NOT OF THEIR CRIMES; the minister of an all-merciful God, she came there to comfort and to pray, not to judge and condemn. When she was about to depart, the women thronged around her as if to detain her. "You will never come again," said they. But she who never broke her word promised to return.

She soon paid a second visit to this loathsome jail, where she intended to pass the whole day; the doors were closed upon her, and she was left alone with the prisoners.

"You cannot suppose," said she, addressing them, "that I have come here without being commissioned. This book—she held the Bible in her hand—which has been the guide of my life, has led me to you. It directed me to visit the prisoners, and take pity on the poor and the afflicted. I am willing to do all that lies in my power: but my efforts will be vain, unless met and aided by you."

She then asked them whether they would not like to hear her read a few passages from that book. They replied they would. Mrs. Fry selected the parable of the lord of the vineyard, and when she came to the man who was hired at the eleventh hour, she said; "Now the eleventh hour strikes for you; the greater part of your lives is lost, but Christ is come to save sinners!"

Some asked who Christ was; others said he had not come for them; that the time was past, and that they could not be saved. Mrs. Fry replied that Christ had suffered, that he had been poor, and that he had come to save the poor and the afflicted in particular.

Mrs. Fry obtained permission to assemble the children in a school established in the prison, for the purpose of promoting their religious instruction. The female prisoners, in spite of their profligate and vicious habits, joyfully embraced the opportunity of ameliorating the condition of their children. Much was already effected by restoring these women to the first sentiments of nature; namely, maternal affection.

A woman denominated the matron, was entrusted with the control of the prisoners, under the superintendence of the ladies of the Society of Friends, composing the Newgate Committee.

Mrs. Fry having drawn up a set of rules of conduct for the prisoners, a day was fixed on, and the lord Mayor and one of the aldermen being present, she read aloud the articles, and asked the prisoners whether they were willing to adopt them; they were directed to raise their hands as a sign of approval. This constitution was unanimously adopted; so sincere were the sentiments of respect and confidence she had inspired.

Thanks to her perseverance and the years she has devoted to her pious undertaking, a total change has been effected in Newgate prison; the influence of virtue has softened the horrors of vice, and Newgate has become the asylum of repentance.

Strangers are permitted to visit the jail on Thursday, when Mrs. Fry reads and explains passages of the Bible to the prisoners. Her voice is extremely fascinating; its pure, clear tones are admirably calculated to plead the cause of virtue and humanity.

The late queen expressed a wish to see Mrs. Fry, and in the most flattering terms testified the admiration she felt for her conduct. The thanks of the city of London were voted to her; and, in short, there is not an Englishman who does not bless her name."

How worthy of all admiration is such conduct in a female! But if the principle which Dr. Chalmers has stated with so much beauty and force, and which has been so fully and delightfully exemplified by the seraphic spirits of a Howard and a Fry, is correct, how humbling to the christian community are the inferences which follow.

Why are our prisons such scenes of cruelty and such schools of crime? Because christian churches and christian individuals are destitute of the practical good will, and the expansive benevolence of the gospel of Christ. When christians begin to act on the principles of their profession, prisons will begin to grow pure; and when all christians fully perform their solemn duties to the erring and the wretched, prison walls and prison vices will be no more. In a purified society they cannot exist; and the degraded condition of the prisoners in our country, and the rapid increase of their numbers, are sure indications of the want of piety and godliness in the land.

I might spin out remarks to an indefinite length, but it would be to no useful purpose. I can weep over the evils which I am unable to cure. I do not expect any great improvement in our prisons, till I see great reformations out of them. From the society of the free all our prisoners are taken, and till that society is purified it will continue to furnish its annual victims to the penitentiary; but when that is done, the fetters and dungeons of the captive will crumble to dust, and the improvement of prisoners will be simultaneous with the reformation of the free. These two classes act and react upon each other, and they must ultimately wear the same moral complexion. If vice is to triumph over virtue, then all will be just fit for a dungeon; but if virtue is to become universal, then will the bond and the free be equal sharers in the bliss. But as the prey is to be taken from the mighty, and as all flesh is to see the salvation of the Lord, I am sure that "in the dispensation of the fulness of times," the vices and crimes of prisoners will cease, and the voice of the oppressors be heard no more.

REV. JOHN ROBBINS' VISIT TO WINDSOR PRISON.

It was in the spring of 1829 that the Rev. John Robbins visited the State Prison in Windsor, Vermont, in which a number of years before he had been a prisoner. He was recognized by a few of the oldest inhabitants of that gloomy mansion, who had been his fellow-prisoners, and particularly by the writer of this article who had been his cell-mate. He obtained permission of the Superintendent, and preached in the prison chapel the first Sabbath after his arrival in town. As he entered the pulpit a thrill of indescribable but pleasing emotion darted through the bosoms of his old acquaintances, at witnessing the great and happy change of which he had obviously been the subject. A few short years before, he had occupied a seat among the hearers in that doleful place, and no one questioned his right to that distinction; but now he appeared as an accredited minister of the gospel, "to preach deliverance to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound." Every eye was fastened upon him, and a solemn death-like stillness pervaded the room. After a few minutes he gave out the following appropriate and affecting psalm, which was sung with sympathetic expression by the choir: