The ministers who had officiated previous to this time, were Rev. J. S., President of the Annual Conference of the M. P. Church in Massachusetts, a man whose name is identified with the early history of Methodism in New England, and dear to the hearts of thousands; Rev. T. F. N. Superintendent of the church in Malden; and Rev. J. D. Y. These gentlemen united their labors to promote the interests of the church, and they expressed much satisfaction when the author was appointed to labor in that place. Both in the public prints, and in private conversation, they gave the strongest demonstrations of their good feeling and entire satisfaction in the event. Why they changed their minds, and what cause they had to become enemies to the man whom they had so highly commended, must be inferred from circumstances; and all the circumstances necessary to this inference I shall now lay before the reader.

Soon after the author's connexion with the church, Rev. Mr. Y. proposed to have him ordained Deacon, which was accordingly done. The church immediately proposed to have him ordained Elder, which was also done. To this some objections were made by the ministers above named, but the vote for it, both in the church and conference, was unanimous.

About this time there was an obvious change in the conduct of Rev. Mr. Y. The cause of this change, I should not like to assume the responsibility of giving. Some thought it was on account of the last ordination, and the act of the President in appointing the author superintendent of the church over him. If this was the cause it evinces a greater share of vanity in him than ought to belong to a christian minister.

At no distant period from this, Rev. Mr. N. began to give some indications of coldness towards the church and its appointed minister. I have no more data for the cause of this change than I have for that in Rev. Mr. Y. This much, however, I know, that Rev. Mr. N. condemned in the most pointed and bitter language, the conduct of the other gentleman, said it was unmanly, unchristian, and cruel.

Last of all Rev. Mr. S. became displeased with the author, and united with the other gentlemen above named to injure him. What this last gentleman gave as the cause of his coldness towards the author was a sentence in one of his published letters, which he considered as a reflection on him. The sentence was the following:—

"Had you sent us an able minister when Dr. French left us, not only would some serious internal difficulties have been prevented, but the cause which then began to bud, would, before this time, have produced a glorious harvest."

This letter was addressed to the Editor of the M. P. Periodical in Baltimore; and as Rev. Mr. S. took charge of the church when Dr. French left it, he said the implication was that he was not an "able minister."

It was not in Rev. Mr. S's nature to take fire at such trifles, and it is due to him to say, that he was instigated by others, or he never would have acted so inconsistently. The sentence objected to had not the least reference to him, who was highly and deservedly esteemed by the church, but belonged to things well known at the time, in which he shared no blame.

The course pursued by the author amidst these difficulties, was that of self-defence and submission to the proper and only authority of the church. He was what that authority made him, and every favor it conferred, came unsought. He had his opinions of right and wrong, and he always counselled, but never opposed the voice of the church. In this respect he differed from his enemies, who took it on themselves to oppose what the church did, and to deny her right to act independently of them, or against the will of a body of which they were the Alpha and Omega. They used every effort in their power to accomplish their purposes against the church and its minister, but to little effect. At length, growing weary with perpetual war, the author concluded to take up his connexion with his people and go to New-York. To this, some opposition was made by the church, but his purpose had been matured and could not be changed. He accordingly took letters, and united with the Conference in New-York; which also received the church into its fellowship at the same time, and sent Rev. Thomas K. Witsil to superintend it. But this was an unfortunate connexion. The old enemies of the church and of the author, began now to practice on Rev. Mr. Witsil, and in a very few months the church was shaken down and scattered to the winds of the heavens.

I am now going to mention particularly what the Rev. enemies of the author did to injure him, while he was in B., and after he left it.—They tried to shake public confidence in him by mean allusions to his past history, both among the members of the church and congregation. They wrote letters to a distance to prevent his getting into employment. They published the most bitter and unchristian libels against him in the common newspapers of the city. And they resorted to all the means they could to cut off his means of support in the church. I have on record all their acts and doings against him—I have copies of the letters they sent to New-York—the pieces they printed in the papers—and what they said to individuals in the city. One of them may think that he has been cunning enough to escape observation in what he has done, but he is mistaken. His path has been observed, his track has been seen; and there may be a day of retribution.

Now, what just cause had they to array themselves against that individual? What evil had he done, that they should treat him thus? He has means of referring to their own printed letters, in which they speak much in his favor; what has he done since to give just occasion for such attacks?

The author is fully aware of the fact that no man is a proper judge of his own cause, and that in the heat of opposition, both parties are apt to be in the wrong. Of his own fallibility, he has had too many painful evidences to entertain a doubt; and he presumes not to say that in all things he acted as he should were he to be placed in the same circumstances again. How infallible his enemies are, in their own opinion, he is too well informed to inquire. They think that they did right in all they did, I have no doubt of this, for the Holy Bible assures me that God will send to certain individuals strong delusions that they may believe a lie. They no doubt think they were doing God service, when they were trying to ruin a fellow creature. When they were serving their master well, they said; "Come, see our zeal for the Lord." I readily admit that, like Saul, they did these things ignorantly and in unbelief; and for this reason I hope they will find mercy, and be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus, even if it should be "so as by fire." It is then, as has been already intimated, very possible that both parties have something to lament, and something to repent of. On this possibility I have thought much, and while I can find no vindication for his enemies on the principles of honorable conduct in heaven, or earth, or under the earth, I find it equally difficult to vindicate the conduct of the author in some things. It was right for him to submit to the voice of the church, and to promote her interest against all her enemies. It was right for him to defend himself against the wicked attacks of his personal foes. And the only part of his conduct that, after deliberate examination, seems to deserve any animadversion is, that in which he put confidence in strangers, and trusted them contrary to the maxims of prudence and the voice of his own experience. But he trusts that the evils he endured from want of prudence will have a good effect on him for the future; and if they cause him to withhold his confidence from strangers, and trust no man because he is a professor or minister, till he knows whether he is what he professes to be, he will have no occasion to regret them.

The melancholy fact that the most sanguine professions of friendship are not to be relied upon, draws strong confirmation from the conduct of the Reverend enemies of the author mentioned above. They were warm in their professions, and equally warm in their enmity. His flatterers and eulogists, and his traducers and persecutors. Making him an angel one day, and a devil the next. One week learned and eloquent, and another ignorant and stammering. With one breath comparing him to Cicero, and with the next to an Indian. Any thing or nothing—a saint or a sinner—according to the whim of the moment or the expediency of the case. It is impossible to find greater inconsistencies than their conduct presents; and if any man wants occasion to be ashamed of his race, let him look at the actions of these men. They kissed and stabbed; defended and deserted; applauded and condemned, just as their present interest seemed to dictate; though the object of their praise and vituperation was the same being at all times, acting on the same principles, and pursuing the same even and steady way.

But what makes this picture the more saddening to the soul, is, the extent of its application. It presents the very common exhibitions of character which abound in our world. Under similar circumstances, who that has not the lovely principles of the gospel in his soul, would act very differently? This is, however, no apology for them. The frequency of a crime detracts not from its deformity, and sin is sin though an angel should commit it. And the general application of these ugly features of human depravity demonstrates the chilling truth, that he who has fallen can never hope to rise. Interest will have sway, and before its influence, justice and mercy are but dust before a tempest. He that sins and is detected will carry the scar to his grave, and he might as well try to blot out the sun as to hide it.

I have now finished the account which I promised to give of the author's connexion with the M. P. C. in B.; but it may not be out of place to mention here what treatment he met with from some other ministers. Passing along the street in the city, he met, one day, the Rev. E. W. a clergyman of the Episcopal Methodist Church. This man addressed him in a very abrupt, rude, uncivil, ungentlemanly, and unchristian speech, of which the following is a literal extract. "You ought never to have been allowed to preach, and if I had the power you never should, nor any one like you. You may be a good christian and get to heaven, but a man who has fallen under the censure of mankind ought never to be elevated to the ministry." Surely the man who should dare to use such language to a fellow mortal, ought to be very pure himself. I wish the Rev. E. W. to remember this treatment which he gave to his fellow man, and be very careful not to fall under "the censure of mankind." And before he prepares to abuse and insult another man, let him take a little precaution, lest in judging others he should condemn himself. It is a very common fault of our nature, from which even the Rev. E. W. was not exempted, to magnify specks on the character of others into blots, and consider blots on our own as only specks.

About this time the author had commenced a series of publications in a certain Religious Periodical; but his name giving offence, he was desired by the Editor to substitute a fictitious, for his real signature, as his productions could no longer appear in his paper unless he did. This he said was the decision of the Committee of the paper, most of whom were clergymen. They had nothing against his writing for the paper, if he would suppress his name, but it would not comport with their views of propriety, to admit him to an equal privilege with themselves. The author from that time, withdrew his contributions from the columns of that periodical.

Now, in view of this treatment endured by the author, I have but few observations to make. His enemies were ministers, and other officers in the Church of Christ. They were under solemn obligations to do as they would be done by; and yet they perseveringly opposed a man who had never injured them, and because they could find nothing else against him, they harped on what had transpired more than ten years before. While they professed to love their neighbour, they wilfully did him an injury. With one hand they took him by the beard to kiss him, while the other was holding a pointed dagger. This shews what sinful beings are found on earth, and proves that many who profess to be the meek and humble followers of the Lamb, have hearts warmed with the blood of the Wolf. It is truly painful to dwell on such uncomely exhibitions of human character, and I should not have been so minute in these details did I not feel impelled by a sense of duty. I have trodden this thorny path myself, and for the benefit of those who may come after me, I wish to leave, at every turn in the road, this salutary maxim—Trust not in man. Many no doubt will consider my accounts of human nature too dark; but no one who has had experience in the school of poverty or dependence, will charge me with being an Acetic. I have no enmity against my species to draw me from a fair statement of facts, nor can I be induced to keep back, out of a false respect for mankind, a fair representation of those traits of character which lie hidden from ordinary view, like vipers under a rose bush. Believe my testimony, or doubt it; approve or condemn; call me friend or foe; God knows, and you will one day know, that I have declared nothing but what my ears have heard, my eyes seen, and my hands handled.

One paragraph more will close this part of my subject. One Sabbath as I was seated on my bench in my cell, spending the lonely hours in deep reflection on the miseries of life, and the unsympathizing temperament of the human heart, one of my cell-mates, more intelligent and observing than the others, very suddenly broke out into the following remarks:—

"Our sentences are various, but they should all be alike. Some of us are doomed here only for a series of years, but we ought all to have been sentenced for life. Some of us may live to get our liberty, but we ought all to die here. What interest has any one of us beyond these walls? What hope can we cherish of ever regaining the confidence of our fellow men? We have fallen and how can we rise? I have been taking an imaginary walk among men, carrying along with me the marks of my present condition, so that all might know where I have been. I have visited all classes, and all are alike. I have, all through my journey, laboured to do right, and give evidence that I have reformed. How have I been treated? I have been hissed by the multitude—despised by those who were once my equals—and trampled on by all.—The church has indeed recorded my name, but she placed me behind the door—and the minister always shunned me if he could.—Saints and sinners looked at me askance, and I have returned contented to live and die in prison, rather than go out and wither under the certain scorn of mankind."

II. My second proposition is, to shew how repentant criminals ought to be treated, according to the divine principle of the text.

It is recognized as a principle in the divine administration, that a bad man may become a good one. On this principle the whole system of the gospel turns. And when the happy change takes place, it is another principle of the same administration, to forgive the past transgressions, and mention them no more to the injury or confusion of the penitent. When the prodigal returns his rejoicing father thinks no more of his prodigality. This is the manner in which God treats his repenting children; and he makes his example a law for all his creatures. "If the wicked restore the pledge, give again that he had robbed, walk in the statutes of life without committing iniquity; he shall surely live, he shall not die. None of the sins that he hath committed shall be mentioned unto him; he hath done that which is lawful and right; he shall surely live." This is the law of heaven on this subject, and it ought to be obeyed. Christians pray to be pardoned as they pardon, and God assures us that if we do not pardon those who trespass against us, we shall not be pardoned for our sins against him. Hence the manner in which repentant and reforming sinners should be treated is obvious; and it is equally obvious that those who do not treat them according to this rule, are not christians.

III. My last proposition is, to shew the good that would flow from such treatment, not only to the penitents, but to the community, and the cause of religion.

1. The good that would flow to the penitents.

By such treatment they would be cheered and helped on in their process of reformation. A contrary course has driven many a man away from his pious resolutions, and caused him to return to the commission of crime. The heart of the penitent man is tender, and this sensibility is in proportion to the greatness of his sins. Then it can bear but little, whatever it may do afterwards. Before David's repentance, Nathan said to him—"Thou art the man!" but not afterwards. This was right; and the sinful monarch reformed. When the soul is torn by the lashes of conscience, it needs no other reprover. Then the heart is bleeding and needs not any other application than oil and wine. Its language is—"Have pity upon me! have pity upon me! O! ye my friends! for the hand of God hath touched me!"

No one knows these feelings better than myself; and I know, too, what it is to have the feelings of a broken and contrite heart, harrowed up by the unsympathizing hand of sneering, reproaching, and scornful professors. Well do I remember those hours of darkness and pain; and a thousand scars on my soul will never suffer the remembrance to die. And that my readers may have some idea of my feelings at that time, I will ask their indulgence to insert for their perusal the following extract of a hymn, composed in one of those seasons of self-condemnation and derided misery.

"Yes, I feel that I'm forgiven,
Mercy cheers my soul at last;
Yet my heart is always riven
When I think upon the past!

O the killing recollection!
How it withers up my soul!
What can blunt the keen reflection,
Or this aching breast console!

If my tears, I'd weep an ocean!
If my blood, I'd rend this heart!
Could I stop this dread emotion,
How with being would I part!

But the past—'tis past for ever!—
Yet, if suffer'd still to live,
Will the friends of Jesus never,
My repented deeds forgive?"

Such are the feelings of a contrite soul, when the painful remembrance of its sins is aggravated by the constant and unfeeling indications of a world's scorn.

Now, the treatment which such an individual ought to receive is expressed in the text, and such treatment would soften the flinty path of his return to virtue, and facilitate his progress. Many are now in the highway of a sinful career, whom such treatment would have saved from ruin. I know them well, and could call their names. They commenced a reform; they looked for encouragement; they leaned on the specious but deceptive professions of christian sympathy; but were disappointed in all. From the altar to the grog shop, and from the throne to the dunghill, they found that, though a sinner might find pardon, and his sins be forgotten in heaven, they will be kept in cruel remembrance on earth, and thrown in his face as long as he lives. This is more than feeble humanity can often endure. It is implied, and by an inspired writer too, that no one can bear a "wounded spirit." Who then can bear on an already "wounded spirit," the mountain of universal insult and scorn? Who can endure forever an hourly crucifixion on the contempt and derision of the whole world? Until christians become converted to the christianity of Jesus, the friend of sinners; and until all men act on the broad rule of doing as they would be done by, there can be but little hope of the reformation of any who have been considered sinners above all men, "because they have suffered such things."

The conduct of the mass of mankind towards those who have become notorious by their sins, is fitly represented by those animals which always fall on such of their species as are in distress and kill them. Even the warmest votaries of the penitentiary system—the members of the "Prison Discipline Society," as a body, treat the sons of guilt and crime as the inhabitants of the country towns in New-England treat their neighbour's unruly cattle,—thump them, dog them, shut them up in pound, and forever after give them a bad name.

Nothing can be more absurd than such conduct; and no course of treatment could be more pernicious in its effects. It must necessarily frustrate the most benevolent objects. Do all that can be done to reform the guilty while they are in confinement, by bread and water, chains and cells, and all the wonderful discipline of the lash and the lock-step, with the much better means of tracts, bibles, priests and sermons; but if they are left, on their release from prison, unprotected from the insults of mankind, and not helped to get into decent employment, nor surrounded by the kind attention of christians, nothing has been done effectually. The man should not be neglected in prison. That is the place to begin, but not to complete his reformation. Let mercy's angels meet him at the door of his cell as it opens to let him out, and let them be his guardian spirits through life; and then they may take him to heaven. The time of his release is the turning point in his moral history. Like the unclean spirit that went out of the man, if he has to go through dry places seeking rest and finding none, he will, from necessity, return to his house whence he came out; but if he is received as was the returning prodigal by his father, no more will be heard of his wanderings.

Christians! think of this. You who exhaust all science to compute the worth of one soul, and send the emanations of your love for sinners to the furthest verge of the other hemisphere, take a few thoughts for those of your own country. Look at home. And if all souls are of equal value, and he who converts one sinner from the error of his ways, saves a soul from death and hides a multitude of sins, try at least not to prevent the conversion of a sinner, by mentioning to him the sins of which he has repented.

2. The good that would flow to community.

It is presumed that a general exemplification of the principle laid down in the text, would not only prevent penitent offenders from relapsing into crime, but would fully confirm them in habits of virtue. In more than nine cases out of ten, this would be the happy result; while the opposite course would in full as many cases, lead to an opposite result. God always acts on this principle, and because he is good to all and his tender mercies are over all his work, his saints love him and praise him, and sinners are led to repentance. His kingdom is a kingdom of mercy. Every part of his administration is governed by mercy and love, and these traits of its character are visible every where—in the golden flood of morning, and the dark and howling demons of the midnight storm; in the soft and harmonious tones of the gospel, and the harsh and thundering notes of the gloomy and fiery mount. He is the Lord God, merciful and gracious, slow to anger and of great kindness; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin; but by no means clearing the guilty. He will not contend for ever nor be always wroth. He will not cast off for ever. His anger continues only for a moment, but his mercy is everlasting—it endureth for ever. When desired to display his glory, he shows his goodness. He loves not only his saints, he also commendeth his love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us. And we are commanded to love our enemies, to bless them that curse us, to do good to them that hate us, and pray for them that despitefully use and persecute us; that we may be the children of our Father who is in heaven, who makes his sun rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and unjust. Such being the principles of the divine administration, and such the certainty that they will result in the reconciliation of all beings to the Father, it is inferentially presumable that the same principles fully acted out by men, would produce the same happy and desirable results.

If these remarks and inferences are just, then the good that would result to community by exemplifying the principle in the text is obvious. It would exchange bad men for good ones. It would throw a wall of security around its institutions, its peace, its prosperity and its virtue, stronger than mountains of brass. Under such a firmament of heavenly principles and conduct,

"All crimes would cease and ancient fraud would fail,
Returning Justice lift aloft her scale;
Peace o'er the earth her olive wand extend,
And white-rob'd Innocence from heaven descend;
The world would smile with boundless bounty bless'd,
And God's pure image glow in ev'ry breast."

Towards this glorious state of society I confidently look, with the strong emotions of a fixed and unwavering faith; but I invariably associate it with the universal prevalence of benevolent principles and beneficent deeds. Good will to all mankind must be the inspiring motive of every action. The shepherd must go into the wilderness after his lost sheep, and rejoice when he returns with it; and the father must go out to meet his returning prodigal.

3. The good that would flow to the cause of religion by such conduct, is my last topic.

It would be redeemed from the charge of inconsistency. Religion is judged of by the conduct of its professed friends, and condemned or applauded from their exhibitions of it. Every inconsistency in their conduct is written as a mark against their creed, and all their excellences are placed to its credit. The truth of this no one will deny. What verdict then will mankind render against a religion, the professors of which continue in a course of conduct which crosses their principles at every step? How can they call that a good religion, which does not exert sufficient influence over its votaries to make them even consistent? But if the friends of religion act according to their principles, and never depart from those maxims of propriety which they inculcate on others, they will at least obtain for their religion the credit of consistency. Now the text contains one of the principles of the Christian religion, and all who profess to be christians acknowledge it to be genuine; but where is their consistency if they depart from it in practice? Christians, will you be consistent? For God's sake let the blessed Jesus be wounded no longer in the house of his friends!

This course would also stop the triumphs of Infidelity. This monster subsists on the faults of professors, and his triumphal car is stained with the blood of christian wars. Preach to him the excellences of your faith till the day of doom, and by one single reference, he can silence the most eloquent tongue. He unfolds the long catalogue of sainted crimes, and the christian must be dumb. The christian conduct cannot be vindicated on the christian's principles, and the enemy can be put to silence only by the abstract excellence of the faith which he despises. Between christianity and christians there must be a distinctive line drawn, or they will obscure its brightness and beauty by the association. When they come up in their doings to the high, pure, and stainless criterion of their professed principles, then, and not till then, will Infidelity be put to the blush.

It is high time to commence a reform in the conduct of professors; and no where is this reform more needed than in the principle of the text. I will not stop to argue this point, for no one dares deny it. Look abroad, christians, and see the characters specified in the verse read at the commencement of this discourse, roving up and down the earth. How are they treated? How do you treat them? Who wipes their tears? who gives them a shelter from the rude storms of winter? who gives them a kind look or a civil word? who leads them into the vineyard in the morning and gives them a penny at night? Rather who does not shun them?—insult them?—spurn them from his door?—force them to die in innocence or live by crime? Who dares confront these charges? You that kneel at the altar of Jesus, and commemorate his dying love, are you innocent? Ministers of the everlasting gospel, are your garments clean? Missionary, Tract, Bible and Prison Discipline Societies, how stands your accounts? Christians of every rank and denomination, when have you fed, clothed, ministered to, and visited your hungry, naked, sick, and imprisoned Jesus in the person of his followers? In the name of Jesus Christ, then, and for the honor of his cause, I pray you, in behalf of repentant criminals, to REFORM.

In concluding this Essay, which has cost me many a painful hour, I cannot help remarking the vast difference that exists between the conduct of God and of his creatures, in relation to repentant sinners. He not only pardons, he also forgets; but men do neither. My experience on this subject leads me to results very different from those which the sanguine professions of christians led me to anticipate. Such is the gloomy fact, and I must endure it. From man, even the man of the altar and the desk, I have nothing to hope for. Within the limits of the wide world, and beneath the heavens, my prospects are as dark as the "noon of night;" despair has hung her dreadful curtains round all things, and in its chilling, stiffening shade, the frost of endless blight is fast gathering upon me. I meet at every turn the scorn of every eye, and I have only to bury myself in some distant clime, till my race on earth shall close. "O for a lodge in some vast wilderness!"

But though all earth is dark, and mankind will be my enemies for ever, there is a God who will never desert any that trust in him; and conscious that he loves me, and will defend me, I will endure without a murmur all the evils of life, and wait all the days of my appointed time till my change come; in the humble hope, that, in the grave, I shall not hear the voice of the oppressors, and that the reproaches and scorn of mankind, which is too much for me to bear on earth, will not follow me into the world to come.

Fly swift, ye intervening days,
Lord, send the summons down;
The hand that strikes me to the earth,
Shall raise me to a crown.

THE CONNEXION BETWEEN INTEMPERANCE AND CRIME, AS VISIBLE IN PRISON.

Intemperance is not the cause of every crime that is committed, though it is of very many of them. It is itself one of the greatest of crimes. It is a violation of not one law only, but of many. The drunkard outrages the law of his nature, tramples on the laws of morality, and flings contempt on the law of the Almighty; and it is not at all wonderful that so manifold a sin should meet with a various and adequate retribution. Intemperance unfits its votaries for every thing good, and qualifies them for, and spurs them onward to the commission of every base and sinful work; and it is impossible to estimate the crimes it has committed, or the miseries it has produced. I saw, in the Windsor Prison, many of the criminal votaries of this Moloch of modern idolatry, and my soul was often severely pained in contemplating the certain and lasting misery with which he rewarded his most faithful worshippers. I have not time, in this place, to enter into a full discussion of the connexion of intemperance with the crimes and misery of state prisons; but I will present a few striking illustrations of the subject, which may answer in the place of a volume.

L. N. was a very intemperate drinker. Rum had marked him for her own. He had worshipped his idol in gaols and prisons for a thousand miles round; and he was always punctual and regular in his devotions. The consequence was—the loss of public confidence—a straw pillow for his head, and a grated dungeon for his home—the pollution of his soul, and the ruin of his body—a death in shrieks of agony, and a prison-yard for his grave.

C. C. learned while a youth to drink the poisoned glass. He was well educated, and of a respectable family. His habit of intemperate drinking unfitted him for business, and he became the scoff and scorn of the giddy rabble. He fled his country for a crime, and remained at a distance for years, adding sin to sin. At length he returned home and repeated his former crime, for which he was sent to Windsor.

No one can describe the pain he endured when taken away from the bottle. "Horrors!Blue horrors!—Ruffled horrors!" were the words in which he expressed the agony of his body and soul, under the cravings of an intemperate thirst for rum. After several years he was pardoned, but he returned to his former habit; and in one of his paroxysms of intoxication he inflicted a mortal wound on a fellow-being, and was sent back to prison, where he now is.

B. F. H. was a victim of drunkenness. Few men ever received from the hand of their Creator a richer store of intellectual capacity than this man, and on none were such gems more wastefully lavished. He abandoned a most amiable wife; and after spending many years in different prisons, the last I heard of him he was fitting for another. Over this victim, intemperance might boast, for he was like a star of superior brightness; he was learned, ingenious, and eloquent, qualified for a high station, but self-damned to the lowest.

P. D. illustrated very affectingly the legitimate consequences of intemperance. After he became its victim, it made him the author of a crime for which he was sent to prison for eighteen months. When this term had expired, he enjoyed liberty about three months, during which time he added another crime to the effects of rum, for which he was sent back to prison for three years. When these had expired, he was let out into the fields of liberty again; but in less than seven hours he was in gaol for a crime which he had had but just time enough to get drunk and commit, and in less than seven days he was back again in prison for six years.

This was entirely the effect of rum. He was not a criminal of choice, but when filled with rum, he would always steal. I never knew a man of better or purer moral feelings, when he was sober; and what is by no means common, he had such a sense of the crimes he committed, that he justified his punishment, and always considered it merciful. What a pity that such a man should have been ruined by intemperance.

I need not dwell on particular cases.—How great a proportion of the crimes which sent so many prisoners to Windsor, were directly or indirectly caused by the sin of intemperate drinking, I have not sufficient data to ascertain; but I have no hesitation in saying, that one half of the entire number would never have been in that gloomy mansion, if there never had been any intoxicating liquors. The victims of this prevailing sin, which I saw in that dreary house, are passing through the field of memory, and they appear like the armies of Gog and Magog. It would be well for the dealers in this ruinous article to dwell a few minutes every night on the moral character of their employment. They are earning their daily bread, and growing rich, on the profits of a poison which sends the body of the purchaser through flames of torment to an untimely grave, and prepares his soul for the miseries of the second death.—Let rum, and all the family of intoxicating drinks, be banished from the land, and half the rooms in our prisons will be soon found without an inhabitant.

I have known many prisoners who had gone to such excess in drinking, that for a year after they came into prison they endured a trembling of their hands, and a burning thirst for rum, which rendered their existence a real curse. Very many have I heard lamenting their crimes as having been occasioned by rum. Their language was—"If it had not been for liquor, I should not have done so;" and this was no doubt the fact. But though the prisoners so deeply lament their past folly and sin in drinking, it is not easy to cure them of it. After spending years in prison, and after many a "dolorous lament" over the effects of intoxication—after writing and publishing against intemperance, it is no strange thing to hear that they are drunk the day they are released. With one instance of this kind I will close this article. B. F. H. while in prison, wrote several essays on the sin of intemperance, to which he had been given, and delivered an oration on the subject in the prison chapel; and he professed to have been thoroughly reformed. Through the influence of his friends he was pardoned, and the journal of the prison contains the following entry in respect to him;—"Benj. F. Harwood pardoned—returned at night—DRUNK."

INFLUENCE OF "FREE MASONRY" ON THE REGULATIONS OF PRISONS, AND THE DECISION OF COURTS.

On this contested point, I am, from occular demonstration, a perfect sceptic. I have known many Freemasons in prison, and I have known masonic keepers treat them with a severity for which there can be no excuse. I have known many instances of this kind. And so thoroughly is it understood that Masonry is of no use to a man in that prison, that when a masonic prisoner is in punishment, the common remark is,—"This is rather hard treatment to receive from a brother."

I am not a mason, and should there be any real necessity for me to take sides in the contest on this subject, I should be an Anti. I am not then under the influence of any prejudice in favor of the order, and I wish to record it here as a historic fact, that masonry was not of any obvious advantage to a single prisoner in Windsor, during my whole acquaintance with it. I never heard it mentioned as a matter of complaint by the prisoners, that any one had been favored in the least because he was a mason, which was not the case in respect to other things. It was often said of the Master Weaver, that he was partial to the Irish, and to Roman Catholics. The Superintendent was often accused of shewing favor to the Baptists. One of the Visiters was often cursed because he was thought to be a particular friend to professors. But it was never said of Judge Cotton, or Captain Hunter, that they were partial to the masons. Indeed I always thought that they retained a little wrath against such prisoners as had belonged to lodges, on account of their having disgraced the order. As an instance of the treatment which masons have to endure in Windsor, I will relate the case of H. M.

He was sent to the prison for ten years. He was a man of good habits, was industrious and orderly, and I know not that he did any thing that should make him an object for particular wrath; and yet he was made to stay nine years out of ten, and was, moreover, treated rather unmercifully all the time. It is said by some that the rule of the masons is to hide a brother's faults, while they can be hidden, and to withdraw their protection from those whose faults are known.

If this is true, it accounts for the treatment which I have mentioned. But however this may be, I have two facts in relation to masonry which I learned in Windsor, and I shall make this the place to record them. The first relates to a stranger who was apprehended in Burlington and committed to gaol for passing counterfeit money. He was a man of gentlemanly appearance, and there was no doubt of his being guilty of the crime alleged against him. Soon after his commitment a letter from him to some of the principal men of the place, drew a number of them to his room. He was taken out on bail, and permitted to go on his way. He was a mason, and those who visited him were masons; and from a full conversation with him, which was overheard, it is certain that his masonry was the sole cause of his release. There was, however, no bribery of officers, no polluting of the streams of Justice, in this case, as the men who befriended him, did it legally, and they were private individuals.

Another fact is couched in a conversation which I had with a mason while in prison. We were personal friends, and what was proper for him to say, as a mason, he said to me very freely. He remarked that as a prisoner under sentence, he was exiled from the charities and the interference of the Fraternity of Free Masons; but still, he said, masonry was useful under other circumstances. "It would be very convenient," said he, "for a person in distress at midnight, even in a strange place, to be able to call at a house, and by giving a particular sign be secured and protected."

This is all that my observation in prison enables me to say of the influence of masonic principles in that place, or their interference in any way, with the administration of justice.

A great stir was made about Burnham, and much craft and skill were employed to make the public believe that, instead of dying and being buried as was the fact, he was let out of prison by bribery on account of his being a mason. But this was all a political farce, and evinced only the length to which political factionists will go, to effect their purposes.

One remark more and this article will be finished. It is this. The Superintendent and Warden were both masons of a high rank. It is said that the pure principles of the craft are always developed in holy friendship and brotherly love. The enemies of the Order say that Masons will defend each other, "right or wrong." But so far were these men from acting on the principles ascribed to them, that if they were friends to each other, may all creatures and the Creator too, be my enemies to all eternity.

THE PRISON DISCIPLINE SOCIETY.

I advert to this society, not to give it my approbation, but to avail myself of some of the facts which it has collected and published in its Reports, as evidence of the truth of several positions which I have taken in the course of these sketches.

This society was formed in Boston, June 30, 1825. Its avowed object is "THE IMPROVEMENT OF PUBLIC PRISONS." This object, with the motives prompting to it, is expressed in the first Report, page 5, in the following pertinent and emphatic language:—

"The object of the Society, in which they were associated with us, is "THE IMPROVEMENT OF PUBLIC PRISONS." This object, we have reason to believe, is approved by the Saviour of the world; for he will say to his disciples on the day of judgment, 'when I was hungry, ye gave me meat; when I was thirsty, ye gave me drink; when I was a stranger, ye took me in; SICK AND IN PRISON, YE VISITED ME." These words we regard as our authority and our encouragement; teaching us to go forward in the work in which we are engaged, and to expect, if we do it with penitent and believing hearts, to meet the approbation of him whose favor is life. We learn also, from these words of the Saviour, the guilt of those who neglect or oppose the performance of the duties, in which we are engaged. And, as we proceed, and see from month to month, the disclosure of facts of which we had never heard, or formed a suspicion, we feel that the Saviour knew vastly better than we can ever know, how great the necessity of practical obedience to the duty implied, in the benediction which he has promised to pronounce upon those who, in memory of his sufferings, seek to relieve misery, wherever it shall be found. We earnestly pray, that we may be sustained, 'by looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our Faith, who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God; where he ever liveth to make intercession for us:' for we are sure, that we must visit places and discharge duties, in the prosecution of this work, where there can be no sufficient support, but the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ."

Not to approve of a society whose object is so benevolent and whose motives are so heavenly, may at first thought, be regarded by many as an evidence of inhumanity and impiety. Such is the opinion of the society, and it denounces as guilty, "those who neglect or oppose the performance of the duties in which it is engaged." This is courting patronage in a style rather too arrogant and damnatory. Its simple meaning is this—All mankind must think and act in concert with us, in relation to prisons, or be guilty.

As one, I am willing to incur the guilt of dissenting from this society; nor shall I fear that this will expose me to the condemnation of "the Saviour of the world," till the object shall be changed from "THE IMPROVEMENT OF PUBLIC PRISONS," to the improvement of PRISONERS. A society for the moral, and spiritual, and temporal improvement of prisoners, that should seek these ends by moral and merciful means, and continue its guardian care over them after they are released, by furnishing them with employment, and treating them with respect, I should consider it criminal to neglect or oppose; but such is not "THE PRISON DISCIPLINE SOCIETY." The great object of this society is, to introduce solitary confinement into all our prisons during the night season, and hard labour during the day. Another part of the discipline of prisons, recommended by this society, is—STRIPES!—

In respect to both these branches of prison discipline, the reader shall have the language of the society, that he may be sure my representations are correct.

In the FIRST REPORT, pages 25-28, the views of the society in respect to the practice of confining several convicts in one room at night, is expressed as follows:—

"We find great unity of opinion among all well informed and practical men, in regard to the evils of this miserable system,[2] and the importance of solitary confinement, at least by night.

The superintendent of the New Hampshire Penitentiary, Moses C. Pilsbury, who has been seven years in that institution, says, he has thought much of the benefits, which would result from solitary confinement at night. The plots which have been designed, during his term of service, have been conceived, and promoted, in the night rooms. He has spent much time in listening to the conversation of the convicts at night, and thus has detected plots and learned whole histories of villany.

Judge Cotton, the superintendent of the Vermont Penitentiary, says, I feel satisfied, that great evils might be avoided, could our State Prison be so constructed, that the convicts might lodge separately from each other. Solitary confinement, during the night, would be an effectual bar, and have a great tendency to suppress many evils, which do exist, and ever will exist, so long as prisoners are allowed to associate together in their lodging rooms.

The Directors of the Massachusetts Penitentiary, in their last Report, say, that the erection of an additional building, within the Prison yard, where each convict may be provided with a separate apartment for lodging, has long been a favorite object with the government of this institution.

The Commissioners of the Connecticut Legislature, say, that the great and leading objection to Newgate, is the manner in which the prisoners are confined at night—turned in large numbers into their cells, and allowed an intercourse of the most dangerous and debasing character. It is here, that every right principle is eradicated, and every base one instilled. It is a nursery of crime, where the convict is furnished with the expedients and shifts of guilt, and, with his invention sharpened, he is let loose upon society, in a tenfold degree, a more daring, desperate, and effective villain.

The superintendent of the New York Penitentiary, Arthur Burtis, Esq. speaking of the crowded state of the night rooms, said, how can you expect reformation, under such circumstances? As well might you kindle a fire, with a spark, on the ocean, in a storm. If a man forms a good resolution, or feels a serious impression, it is immediately driven from him in his night room.

The superintendent of the New Jersey Prison, Francis S. Labaw, says, the greatest improvement, that has been made, or can be made, in Prison Discipline, is by solitary confinement. The solitary cells in this Prison, in which one fourth part of the whole number of prisoners are placed under sentence of the Court, have answered all the purposes, which it was ever expected they would, so far as trial of them has been had. No person, who has been once confined in them, has ever returned to the Prison.

The Senate of Pennsylvania say, for want of room, the young associate with the old offenders; the petty thief becomes the pupil of the highway robber; the beardless boy listens with delight to the well told tale of daring exploits, and hair breadth escapes of hoary headed villany, and from the experience of age, derives instruction, which fits him to be a terror and a pest to society. Community of design is excited among them, and, instead of reformation, ruin is the general result.

The superintendent of the Virginia Penitentiary, Samuel O. Parsons, says, I consider separating convicts at night, of all others, the most important feature in the Penitentiary system of punishment, and one, which should every where claim the first consideration in erecting such institutions.

With the opinions thus expressed, of the practical men placed at the head of these institutions, the opinions of the governors of the respective States, of the judges, and legislators, and benevolent men, so far as they have been expressed or known, perfectly coincide.

Governor Plumer, of New Hampshire, says, effectual measures should be adopted to separate, in the Penitentiaries, old offenders from the young and inexperienced.

Governor Lincoln, of Massachusetts, in a late message, recommended, that immediate provision be made for the erection, as soon as may be, in the prison yard, of a building, with sufficient cells for the separate confinement of the present, and any future probable number of convicts.

Governor Wolcott, of Connecticut, stated to the Legislature, in May, with reference to the improvements at Auburn, that there were few subjects upon which their deliberations could be bestowed with higher advantage to the best interests of the State.

Governor Clinton has formerly expressed his opinion of the importance of solitary confinement, and in his late message to the Legislature, he expresses an opinion concerning the institution in New York city, for the reformation of Juvenile Delinquents, which is constructed on the plan of the building at Auburn, that it is probably the best Prison in the world.

Judge Woodbury, of New Hampshire, says, that 'Prisoners, during the night, should be wholly separated from each other.'

Mr. Hopkinton, of New Hampshire, says, 'a novice, who, if kept from company worse than himself, might have been reclaimed from his first attempts, is here associated with old, hardened, and skilful offenders; he hears with envy and admiration the stories of their prowess and dexterity; his ambition is roused; his knowledge extended by these recitals; and every idea of repentance is scorned; every emotion of virtue extinguished.'

Judge Thacher, of Boston, says, 'by the confession of those who administer our Penitentiaries, it is found, that most of the evils of this system of punishment flow from the almost free and unrestrained intercourse, which subsists among the convicts.'

Thomas Eddy, of New York, says, 'if a number of ingenious men were requested to suggest the best possible mode of increasing the number of thieves, robbers, and vagabonds, it could scarcely be in their power, to fix on any plan, so likely to produce this effect, as confining in one collection, a number of persons already convicted of committing crimes of every description.'

Hon. Edward Livingston, says, 'it is a great point to produce the conviction of the important and obvious truth, denied only by a false economy, that Prisons, where there is not a complete separation of their inhabitants, are seminaries of vice, not schools for reformation, nor even places of punishment.'

Roberts Vaux, of Philadelphia, lays down five fundamental principles of Prison Discipline, the first of which is, 'that convicts should be rigidly confined to solitary life.'

There is no disagreement between the opinion of these distinguished individuals, and the opinions of various commissioners, directors, &c. who have written on this subject.

The Commissioners of the Massachusetts Legislature, in 1817, ask, 'how it is to be reconciled, that in any civilized country, convicts are brought into promiscuous association, to pass years together, all united under the influence of a public opinion, as strong in its support of vice, as that which rules the community, is, in its support of virtue?'

The Commissioners of the Connecticut Legislature, in a very able Report, written by Martin Wells, Esq. say, 'it is in the cells, that every right principle is eradicated, and every base one instilled. They are nurseries of crime, where the convict is furnished with the expedients and shifts of guilt, and, with his invention sharpened, he is let loose upon society, in a tenfold degree a more daring, desperate and effective villain.'

The Commissioners, Samuel M. Hopkins, Stephen Allen, and George Tibbets, of the New York Legislature, say, "we believe that we do but repeat the common sentiment of all well informed men, when we say, that as long as it is necessary to confine several prisoners in the same room, our State Prison at New York can be no other than a college of vice and criminality."

A highly respectable committee of the Society for the Prevention of Pauperism, in the city of New York, in a Report on the Penitentiary System, which is one of the most valuable documents ever published on the subject in this country, have the following language, 'Our Penitentiaries are so many schools of vice, they are so many seminaries to impart lessons and maxims calculated to banish legal restraints, moral considerations, pride of character, and self-regard.' 'They have their watchwords, their technical terms, their peculiar language, and their causes and objects of emulation. Let us ask any sagacious observer of human nature, unacquainted with the internal police of our Penitentiaries, to suggest a school, where the commitment of the most pernicious crimes could be taught with the most effect; could he select a place more fertile in the most pernicious results, than the indiscriminate society of knaves and villains, of all ages and degrees of guilt?'

This is a frightful picture of human depravity and proneness to sin; and if the system of separate confinement at night should not remove or prevent these evils, the mind may be led to seek the source of them, not in the circumstance of few or many being lodged together, but in the cruelty and inhumanity of the keepers.

In the SECOND REPORT, pages 38-43, the Society states its objections to solitary confinement by day, and adopts the theory of labour by day and separate confinement by night. The following is its language:—

"Solitary confinement day and night. On this subject, there is great interest excited, at the present time, in America and in Europe. It will be our object to present such facts as are known to us concerning experiments already made in this country.

"In the Maine Prison, which has been in operation about three years, a large number of the convicts have been sentenced to six months solitary confinement day and night, and to a period of time afterwards of solitary confinement at night, and hard labor by day. A considerable number more have been sentenced to solitary confinement day and night, for the whole term of their imprisonment. This Prison is under the management of a gentleman, who has been a member of the Senate, in the State of Maine, and who is, also, a skilful physician. He has, therefore, been entrusted with discretionary power, by the Executive, to remove the men from the cells to the hospital, when their health and life required it. The former Governor of the State informed the Secretary of this Society, that it would not have been thought safe to inflict sentences of so long continuance in solitary confinement, if great confidence had not been placed in the discretion of the superintendent. The judges, however, and the Executive, when the Prison was built, were strongly in favour of solitary confinement day and night, and they wished to make a fair experiment. What, then, is the testimony of the superintendent of this Prison, on this vastly important and interesting subject? And what is the testimony of the Records of the Prison? The following statement is collected from the records and the superintendent. It exhibits the names of several convicts; the length of time they were sentenced to solitary confinement; the length of time they were able to endure it before they were removed to the hospital; the length of time they remained in the hospital before they returned to the cells; the alternation between the cells and the hospital to fulfil the whole term of solitary confinement; and the suicide of two convicts in the cells. These are the only convicts who have died since the Prison was organized."