' tw. -a-- t-.r Sabbati) School £ibt District No. 3. MIDDLEBCrRY, VERMONT. THE LIBRAR' OF THE UNIVERSI OF CALIFORN LOS ANGELE; 7^ j"rr-:p-nc~ C M\4dUan,I^mUr CuU^ / MEMORIALS 07 PEISOI LIFE. BY REV. JAMES B. FINLEY. KDITKD B¥ REV. B. F. TEFFT, D. D. CJI i n cl n n a 1 1 : PUBLISHED BY L. SWORMSTEDT & A. POE. CORXER OF MAIN AND EUGHTH STREETS. K. P. THOMPSON, PRINTEB. 1856. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, BY SWORMSTEDT & POWER, In the Clerk's OflBce for the District Court for the District of Ohi HV ^ PREFACE. The following -work, kind reader, was not premeditated, uhen I accepted the appointment of chaplain to the peni- tentiary of Ohio ; but it came into my mind, at first, as a mere suggestion, and grew up into its present form by the force of circumstances, rather than from calculation. Hav- ing formed, many years ago, the habit of 'journalizing the principal events of my life, I found myself at my old prac- tice soon after entering upon my duties in the prison : every thing in relation to the prisoners, to the officers, to the discipline of the institution, and to whatever stood connected with it, without any particular intention, was recorded ; and, in this way, by the time I had been one year in my new position I had amassed matter enough, if printed as it was first written, for a large volume. These materials became, from time to time, and altogether accidentally, the topics of conversation among my personal friends ; and several of them, among whom were Col. Dewey, Dr. Charles Elhott, and Hon. John M'Lean, either suggdited or approved the idea of publishing a book. By these and similar influences, I was led to entertain the project so far as to cany my manuscript to Cincinnati, and take the advice of several of my friends residing there. Committing it, for a short time, to the inspection of my friend. Rev. Dr. TefFt, I received it again with that gentleman's warm approval of the project of publication, by which I was finally determined; and, almost immediately, the task of revision was undertaken, and constantly persevered in, till my materials assumed the form in wliich they now appear. 4 PREFACE. In regard to the matter of tlie volume, I feel at liberty to say, that every word of it can be relied on as fact; ana I have endeavored, by the exercise of some care, to have as few errors of opinion as would be possible in such a work. It is possible, that, in the labor of transcribinfr, some thinirs may have taken a shade not contemplated in the first draft ; but everywhere, it has been my design to adhere strictly to the facts as I knew them, without coloring a single incident for effect. The truth of it is, the facts themselves, which came to light during a protracted residence in one of our great penitentiaries, are sufficiently pungent and thnlling, without the help of fiction; and the nearer a writer can come to the realities actually around him, the more graphic, as well as instructive, will be his book. Such, at least, was my firm conviction in the preparation of these pages; and I have, consequently, endeavored to relate what 1 saw, and heard, and experienced, during my first year as chaplain of the Ohio state prison. Respecting the manner of my unpretending production, I have nothing, of any consequence, to say; for my mind has been so much more intent on the substance than on the form of it, that I scarcely feel qualified to speak. In point of style, I have had no ambition to shine as a writer, my chief object being so to set forth my thoughts, as to be clearly and easily uflderstoo^. Beyond this I have made no at tempts. Though some parts of the work may seem to have been written with some design toward dramatic interest, notliing was farther from my thoughts; for those pages, where this appearance will be most plau.sibly presented to the reader, fell as naturally into their present shape, as the most desultory conversation ever undeitaken by a knot of "talking men." I felt at liberty, of course, to correct the grammatical and rhetorical blemishes of several of the prisoners' letters, which are incorporated in my work; though some of them are given almost word for word as 1 PREFACK. 6 received them from their respective authors — the propriety of which, all, I presume, will understand. There is one part of my labors, while in connection with the penitentiary, to which I look back with unusual interest, I refer to the co-operation of the officers, particularly the higher officers, in the work of spreading the spirit of evan- gehcal religion among the prisoners. In many institutions of this character, there is a coldness manifested toward the chaplain, as if he were there only by courtesy, or conces- sion, and not to do a great and welcome duty to the bodies and souls of lost men. There is nothing of this feeling in the state prison of Ohio. There was not, at least, while I was there; and, having given my testimony fully and ex- plicitly, in the body of this work, to the generous and Christian character of the warden, Col. Dewey, I must here add, that the deputy warden, Capt. Bradford, was equally kind, equally liberal, equally co-operative, and equally solicitous for my success in giving root and growth to religion upon the soil we cultivated. Never, perhaps, in any part of the world, was there a set of officers, having the management of a prison, who possessed and manifested more of the spirit of Christian philanthropy toward their degenerate but important charge, than the officers of this institution. Their reward is certain. I must, also, here express my gratitude to another class of my co-laborers. When I first entered upon my duties, I made particular examination of the library, if I may call that a library, whicli consisted of so few and so unimportant books. My soul was pained. I resoh'ed, in the name of humanity, that this great means of good should not remain thus. On expressing my feelings to the warden, and other officers, I found that they had had similar compunctions ; and we thereupon started a subscription, before quitting the subject of conversation, for the purpose of adding to our library stock. To this measure the contractors, as well as 6 PREFACE. tlie ofiScers, contributed most generously. The citizens of Columbus nobly followed their example. I then felt en couraged to visit Cincinnati for the same object. The Cincinnatians fairly loaded me down with books. Subse- quently I got into my buggy, and rode from town to town. and from house to house, everywhere calling upon the people for such good works as they felt willing to give. Never was I tui-ned away entirely empty from any rcan'a door. Never in my life have I seen a charity so cheerfully and bountifully supplied. It seemed to do the people good to give. And so it did. It always does us good ; and the books thus collected have effected a complete revolution among the prisoners respecting their intellectual habits Before, the moment they were turned loose into their cells, they were idle, or employed in secret vices, or carried away with plans of escape. Now, as soon as they are free from manual toil, the greater part of them occupy their minds in the perusal of good books, which not only stimulates and rouses up their intellectual life, but thereby gives it the ascendency over their physical passions, by which their moral powers are put into a state of freedom favorable tc the growth and elevation of the moral life. No man, Avho has not seen the revolution here referred to, will be able tc realize, precisely and fully, how great a one it is ; but, from continued observation, I can emphatically say to every pri.son on the earth — " Give the prisoners books !" In looking over the sheets, after they had come from press, I discovered a few errors which had escaped my ob.servation till that time. This could be easily accounted for, were the errors of sufficient magnitude to require, oi justify, the trouble; but, after a careful examination, I dc not find one of any consequence to the public. The fev slips of memory, to which I now refer, liave only the per- sonal effect of reminding me, that I am gradually verging into the sear of age; and, with tliis thought uporj my i'Kiii'ACK. 7 heart, I would here, in conclusion, beg the reader, not only to pardon all my deficiencies, but to be careful on his own account to make, for his latter years, and for the world to come, a foundation that never can be moved. Let reader and writer both remember, that, "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." Eaton, January, 1850 CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Appeal to fathers and mothers, legislators and senators— The penitentiary of a state — A momentous question — What is the end to be attained by imprisonment ? — Three theories proposed — John Howard — The congregate system— The separate system— Each has its abettors — The author's system Page 15 CHAPTER II. A look through the prison — Misery and degradation — Striped clothes— The prison Sabbath school — Tlie hospital — A melancholy incident — Mistaken parents — First Sabbath in the penitentiary — Sermon — Interesting spectacle — Talk with the warden — Visit to the female department — Four whites, three blacks— Tuesday — Pri- vate meditation — Wednesday — Second visit to the hospital — Deep depravity — Dark prospect — Another call on the female depart- ment — An affecting case — A history of wretchedness — Admonition to parents — Sermon in the outer hall — A weeping penitent — A day in the country — Secret prayer for the prisoners — Teaching them to read — Want of intellectual culture — Showering convicts — New lodgings — "Confessions" of a murderer — Pernicious publica- tions — Smith on Universalism — End of the first week 21 CHAPTER III. Morning meditations — Conversation with a female convict — Pub- lic service — Talk with a weeping youth — His descent to ruin — Sabbath-breaking and murder — A second youthful murderer — The hospital — Visit to the prisoners in their cells — Distribution of tracts — The poor orphan — Full-grown infidels — Bad books — A young Catholic learning to read — His thoughts on religion and prayer — Bad company — Disobedience to parents the beginning of evil — A reprobate — Conversation and prayer — A happy prisoner — A persecuted youth — A disputer — A reformed and converted drunkard — Confession of a ruined lawyer — ileeting at Wesley chapel — Reinforcement from Cincinnati — Vicissitudes of the world — Personal illness — Visit from one of the guard — An anec- dote — Effect of diet — Another new-comer — Convict discharged — An affecting time 26 10 CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. Continued illness — Rev. Granville Moody — Nashville Christian Advocate — Slavery and its defenders — A sorrow-stricken sinner — Tbe olden times — Chaplains — Desire for a revival — A preacher fallen — The ladder to hell — An Osage Indian — A talk from him — Conversation -with him — Unconquered and unconquerable — A child of the Emerald Isle— Kindness Page 44 CHAPTER V. Bi.shop Hamline — Rev. Mr. Moody — The Gospel desired — A life commitment — A soundly-converted man — Two steps in the road to ruin — Visit to the hospital — A young man from New Eng- land — His narrative — Sabbath-breaking — Crime — Warning to the young — Conversion can occur in prison — A forger and a burglar- Pathetic interview — Conversation and counsel — Hoary hairs — Dia logue on religion — Melancholy reflections — Danger of procrastina- tion — Female department — Extreme obduracy— A fatalist — Another necessarian — Colloquy — Col. Dewey— Anniversary of the author's ministerial life ^^ CHAPTER VI. A beautiful morning — The Sabbath — An interesting service — Visit to my family — Call of an afflicted fatlier and mother — Mournful reminiscences — Return to my labor — A new proposi- tion — Heaven on earth — An expert old sailor — Attempt at escape — The hospital — A class meeting with the sick prisoners — The ora- tors of this world — Triumph of the Christian orator ()4 CHAPTER VII. "Why will ye die?" — A good time — Inveterate obduracy of the female convicts — An incident — The suffering of the innocent — An aged bigamist — A digression — Settlement of the Scioto valley — Early times — Death of a prisoner — Talk with a son of pious pa- rents — Strange revelations — Bad company — Sabbath desecration— Bar-keeping — Sound sense from a convict — Another case — A third man — Shouting — Glorious scene — A man ready to die — Salvation found — Confessions of an old criminal — Close of the week 70 CHAPTER VIII. The worst kind of infidelity — Visit from Rev. Mr. Wheeler, missionary to the Indians beyond the Mississippi — Gross act of inju.slice of the American government — Tlie great well in the prison yard — Sermon — A refreshing season — General Taylor's triumph over the Mexicans — A call at the blacksmith shop — A favorit-ij Hou — Two points for reflection — Some statements for Church members — A plirenologist among tlie prisoners — Talli CONTENTS. li with a hypochondriac — Experience of a new convert — The grind- Btone-tunier — Publishing pardons — Shouting of a youth — Letter from a mother to her son — From a son to his mother Page 82 CHAPTER IX. Female department — Continued hardness — The chapel — Trip to Chillicothe — Colonel Dewey — A great mistake — A good library Vranted — Effect of solitary confinement — A glorious spectacle — A great croaker — Note from a prisoner requesting instruction — Com- mitment of a doctor — An insane invalid — Story of a lunatic— • Specimen of wit — Another poor fellow — A third — Mournful narra tive — Complaints and compliments — A fourth case of insanity — Long imprisonments again — Pardons by the governor not good policy — An attempt at suicide — A lunatic discharged — Reform needed — Recruits for the Mexican war 99 CHAPTER X. The Sabbath — A look over the country — Two sermons — An ap peal — Bishop Morris and Professor Merrick — The prog-ress of iniquity — Deism — An effort to reason — Atheism absurd — Fine- spun sophistry — Prompt confessions — A strong mind — The ward- en — Contributions for a library — Insanity and solitary confinement again — Gloomy reflections — Two considerations — New fare — Mush and molasses — General gratitude — A word from Shakspeare — The omnipotence of love Ill CHAPTER XL A useless practice dropped — Great attendance of visitors — Preachers of universal joy — Commitment for manslaughter — First hour in prison — A pass through the shops — Happy experience — An incident — Miserable law — Call at the tailors' shop — Dialogue with a Catholic — An unfortunate young German — A man par- doned — A barbarous custom — The warden — An anecdote — A quo- tation from Dr. Upham — A veteran scoundrel — The young German converted — A prisoner leaving — Return of guard and convict from Cincinnati — Close of the week 121 CHAPTER XII. The penitentiary a quiet place — Movements of the warden — The female convicts — An interesting call — Walk through thc- yard — Treat extraordinary — Great change — Prayer meeting — Lu- natic asylum — Its general arrangement — Visit to the shops — Inter- esting interview — Prisoner for life — His story — Lettof from his- wife — Deathless love of woman — Colored convic^;/-Revelatior. from a murderer — A Scotchman — Strange manoeuvring and de- ception — Caution and advice to him 136 12 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIII. A breatli of country air — Repiiiings — A sermon — "God is love" — My birthday — An unfortunate youth — Bigamy — St. Si- mon and Fourier, and their co-laborers — An important fact — Restitution — Four conversions — A new feature — Prayers at the table — Conversion of a youth — The work of skepticism — Relig- ious experience — Words of admonition — Writing letters — Depart- ure of convicts — Suffering of the innocent — Juries Page 146 CHAPTER XIV. Breakfast table — Sermon — Confidential talk — Marriage — Dia- logue on the subject — P'air logic — Two cases of discipline — Nu- merous visitors — A tour of collecting books — What do prisoners want ? — Long commitments impolitic — An appeal to the public — Writing a sermon — Grievous complaint from a prisoner — Gross injustice of the sentencing court — Four years' confinement for passing thirty cents counterfeit money — Letter to England — A soundly-converted and happy man — Retribution — Letter from a brother to his sister — Beastly feelings — Letter from a son to his mother — Another letter from a brother to his sister 156 CHAPTER XV. Three brothers — Transmission of character — Bedouin Arabs — Singular fact — A religiously-educated youth — Benefits of wliisky- making — An old colored man — His narrative — Horrid treatment — A slaveholder — Beauties of slavery — An insane man — Picture of v happy rural life — The love of money — Speculation — Its sequel — The drunkard's cup — From a brother in to a brother out of prison — Two commitments — Mail-robber — Forgery — Attempt at escape from prison — Frustration — Pardon — Letter from a woman in the Ohio penitentiary to her husband in the Indiana penitentiary 173 CHAPTER XVI. Sabbath stillness — Two sermons by Rev. Dr. Elliott — A time of power — Letter from a daughter to her mother — The beginning and tlie end of sin — Anotlier case of disobedience to parents — Letter from a youth to an old friend — Bad company — Admonition — An only son — Letter from a convict to a friend in the country — Visit to the hospital — A sin-sick soul — Dialogue — Religious experience — Departure of a convict youth — Parting gift — A happy man^ Another di.schargcd convict — An unparalleled case 1 87 CHAPTER XVn. Morning prayer — Lecture to the women — Sermon from Romans vi, 22 — An o^wtacle to the conversion of prisoners mentioned— CONTENTS 18 Conversion of legislators — Two commitments— Death of a prison- er — The hospital — A penitent seeker — Visit to one of the work sljops — Weaving shop — Commitment of a counterfeiter — An ex- hortation — Escape of our cook— A pardon— A villain from birth — Counsel— Death scene and burial— Another prisoner's terra ex- pired — A suggestion Page 200 CHAPTER XVIII. A colored man released — Funeral Sermon — A counterfeiter — Besetting sin— Kindness— Convict's story— Dark depravity — Con- viction for sin — Two prisoners discharged — A natural liar — Phre- nology—Warning to youth — The warden sick — Anxiety for his recovery — The law of love — Letter from a son to his father — Letter from Kentucky — Lost watch returned — An illustration 210 CHAPTER ^IX. The Sabbath — Numerous visitors — Ohio annual conference — Per- sonal illness — A. J. Hamilton— His early life^Business tact — Trip to Havana— Establisliment of a circus — Strange courtship — Return to New York — Speculation — Great loss — Trip to Caraccas — Con- tract with the governor of Venezuela — Various schemes — Robbery of a store at Xenia — Detection — Trial — Confinement — Prison life — His death — Letter to the sheriff of Green county, and his counsel — Second letter to the sheriff 223 CHAPTER XX. Interesting interview — Adjournment of conference — Prison disci- pline—Causes of crime — Lax family government — Liquor-selling — Kendall's description of Newgate prison, Granby, Conn. — Infernal treatment— Strange enactment— Mt. Pleasant prison, N. Y.— Sing Sing prison— The devil among the ofRcer.s — A new era— Folly of official pardons— Obstacles in the way of reform — Long commit- ments — Officers of the prison — Proceeds of convict labor — Instruc- tion of convicts — Boys — Compensation for labor — Contractors gen- erally a hated and heartless set of men — Choice of a warden — Directors and inspectors — Relatives — Sabbath work — Remedy proposed 289 CHAPTER XXI. Conversion of a female prisoner — A termagant — A splendid Bight — Disquiet of the convicts — Interception of a letter — Its full details — Folly of attempting to escape — Letters from liberated convicts — A spirited epistle — A second from A. C. — Letter from J. D.— Letter from J. A. B. S.— Letter from L. G. — Letter from J. M. G. — Letter from a converted man — A piece of poetry — Close of the week 321 14 COXTENTS. CHAPTER XXII. Sermon — Couaiterfeiting — Recognition of a former convict — In quiring friends — Father Mitcliell — The Sabbath school — Introduc- tion of Longking's Notes — Death of a female convict — An acci dent — An opportunity for escape unimproved — The Sabbath — A sad story — Discharge of six prisoners — Two cases of interest — Re turn of a youth — Morning meditations — Quotation from Charles Wesley — Hopeless death of a prisoner — News from a prisoner in Santa Fe — Two convicts in Columbus on a visit — Christmas — The New Year — More departures — Stealing a dollar — Sermon — Sched- ule from an officer of the prison — A rebellion — Recapture and re- turn of a deserter — Letter from a convict — Female depravity — The Sabbath — An old sinner — Liquor-selling — An intelligent prison- er — Mother and Son — Conclusion Page 331 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE CHAPTER I. Appeal to fathers and mothers, legislators and senators — The penitentiary of a state — A momentous question — What is the end to be attained by imprisonment ? — Three theories proposed — John Ho'ward — The congregate system — The separate system — Each has its abettors — The author's system. Will the reader sit down with an aged man, who has seen nearly his threescore years and ten — who has hved to witness the rising and falHng of many in this world — who has observed much and reflected . long on the causes of good and evil fortune in the affairs of mankind at large, and listen to a series of revelations which he has now to make of the miseries resulting inevitably from crime? Will the fathers and mothers of the land honor me with ■a patient hearing, while I lay before them the certain re- sults of bad example, of bad instructions, of bad house- hold government? Will the sons and daughters, now in the bloom of youth, and hope, and happiness, sit by the old man's side, that they may hear of the latter end of those who despise the instruction of their earthly parents, and deliver themselves up to the counsels of the ungodly? Will the teachers of our country favor me with a listening ear, that the wisdom to be derived from other men's painful experience may be coupled with their own, in building up <,he character and prospects of the rising generations? Will the legislators, the philosophers, the philanthropists of America, and of other countries, so far condescend as 15 16 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. to hear words from the luoulh of one so humble, whicii, if wrought over by then- liigher judgment, may effect something toward the elucidation of important questions, not only in reference to prison discipline, but particularly in relation to numerous social evils and the methods of removincf them? The penitentiary of a state is the centre to which all the rank iniquity of that state converges, or tends to C(»n- verge. It is, therefore, the point at which to station one's self, when about to investigate the darker side of social life, m contrast with the brighter side. Within the walls of a prison are generally some of the worst and some of the best men found — the former as criminals bereft of their liberty, the latter as guardians and instructors, whose moral characters, it is supposed, have recommended them to pub- lic regard as persons to whom may be safely committed the final execution of the laws. The two extremes of society here often meet; and the student of human nature, of civ- ilization, of the laws, and manners, and customs of a peo- ple, will be able to trace from this focus consequences to their causes, punishments to their crimes, and crimes to their small beginnings in early life, not only clearly and satisfactorily, but in a way that shall open up the hidden laws of education, the secret influences of example, and the actual condition of society where these seeds of iniquity are sown, in a very direct and philosophical manner. There is a single question, also, now extensively agitated throughout the civilized world, respecting the exact objects to be reached after in depriving criminals of their liberty, which can be studied and answered best within the precincts of a prison. Upon this question there are now three theo- ries in vogue. One theory is, that all imprisonment is foi the sake of punishment; and the practical conclusion from it ia, that the severer and more certain the punishment, tht more sure it is to deter from crime. The second theory MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 17 on the contrary, begins by asserting, that all punishment, properly understood, is for the improvement of the culprit, ana, consequently, all its rigors should be softened down by the spirit of unmixed love. The third and last theory takes a middle position between the other two, maintaining, that, as there are two parties in the case, so there are two sides to be looked at ; that society is to be defended against the probable repetition of unpunished crimes ; and that this is to be done in a way most likely, at the same time, to benefit the criminal but unfortunate victim of the law. It is well known, that, until the days of the immortal John Howard, the first of the above theories was univer- sally in use. Convicts were supposed to have forfeited, not only their rights as citizens, but their rights as men. They were thrust into dungeons, whei-e no light came — where no friend visited them — where they were soon so far forgotten that often the world could not tell whether they were alive or dead. Personages of the highest distinction, for faults almost venial in our day, would thus spend a lifetime, without a single exertion being made by the public to understand their case. This was unmixed punishment ; and all society acquiesced in the practice, until Howard, by visiting and revealinc: the unseen and unconceived horrors of these duncreons, wrouofht a revolution, the influence of which is felt to the present day. But, as is often the case, that influence was at first only a \iolent reaction. The doctrine then sprang up, for the first time, that imprisonment must always be based on the principle of pure benevolence to the imprisoned ; that pun- ishment, as such, Avhether for the benefit of society, or for any other purpose, is opposed to the genius of Christianity as it is expressed in the golden rule ; and that the reforma- tion of the ofiender, by correcting his physical health and habits, by giving him useful intellectual culture, by forming a moral character for him on the basis of the Gospel, is 2 18 MEMOKIALS OF PRISON UFE. the Alplia and Omega of the authority of the law. Se\ eral experiments of prisons conducted on this foundation have been made in different countries, and always with the same results. Whereas, under the operation of the first theory, society was vigorously defended, but at the expense of all benevolence and humanity, under this second dis- pensation, the offender was exclusively cared for at the risk of upturning the very groundwoik of society, and re- ducing all law and order to a mere nullity. The evils of this system were, happily, soon apparent. The poor father, whose exertions had not been sufficient to keep his children far above the risk of starvation, or whose neglect of their education had precipitated them into juvenile criminality, with all his pain, was really relieved at heart, when he saw one or more of liis troublesome progeny condemned, for some early sin against the state, to pass several years in one of these Houses of Correction. They would there re- ceive attentions denied them at home. Their physical, and intellectual, and moral wants would all be attended to in this place of improvement. Punishment became at once such a blcs.sing, tliat many offenses were committed by the poor expressly for the sake of it; society was thus paying a premium on crime, and encouraging the infraction of its own regulations; justice was made the scourge of the com- munity, instead of being a terror to evil-doers ; and immo- rality was continually increasing, and that at the very fountain-head of society — the rising generation — by the very efforts intended to repress it. ^ So soon as the public mind began to recover from this infatuation, not being able to go back again to the doctrine. of unmixed punishment, it gradually fell upon a middle ground, as Ijcing the one most piobably correct. Works were written ; experiments were made, in tliis country and in Europe; and the consequence was, that the mixed iheorv, as it might be most properly denominated, was MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 19 authoritatively established. In nearly all prisons, in most civilized lands, the culprit is now punished for his crimes, and society is so far defended against the repetition of such injuries; and, at the same time, the criminal himself is so treated, that his punishment ■will be most likely to have a salutary effect upon his character in after life. It is true, there are yet two systems of prison discipline still in use ; but both claim to have the two parties — the criminal and society — equally in view. The congregate system, going on the supposition, that habits of labor and moral character are the chief desiderata among this class of men, set them to work at those trades for which their physical and mental powers, together with the considera- tion of their former occupations, may more especially adapt them ; religious instruction is also given them by men ap- pointed expressly for the purpose ; and they are permitted to labor in large communities, where they can see' but not converse with each other, as the friends of this sys- tem imagine that social intercourse, of some kind and to some extent, is almost as necessary to man as food. The separate system, on the other hand, looking upon all in- tercourse between criminals as only evil in its tendency, by which one rogue becomes the instructor or accom- plice of another, secludes the convicts from each other but, to atone for this defect, it encourages the visits of good men to the cells of the prisoners ; and the officers of these prisons make it a particular point of duty to visit the inmates very frequently themselves. The physical habits of the imprisoned are provided for by such trades as can be carried on by individual industry ; a teacher is employed to lead them on in the study of useful branches of educa- tion ; while the Gospel is regularly taught them, not only by sermons on the Sabbath, but by the private efforts of the chaplain in his daily rounds. Ear^h of these two systems has its ardent friends; and 20 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. each presents objections, urged often Avith great epirit against the other; but, in giving to the world my reflec- tions and observations, I have no cause to advocate but the cause of justice and humanity combined. I have no hobbies to ride ; I have no ulterior end in view ; but I sit doA\Ti merely to record what I have seen and heard. Whin I shall endeavor to furnish materials for profound medita tion, to all the several classes mentioned on a previou' page, the reader must not expect me to decide contro verted questions for him ; but he must make all such prac- tical appHcation of the facts here given for himself. My aim is to be an unprejudiced witness; and the pubhc, in relation to every thing I may say, must be both the juiy and the judge. fl^w^ #t CONVICT3 RETIRINO TO THEIR CBLI£. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 21 CHAPTER II A look through the prison — Misery and degradation — Striped cloMie.s — Tlie prison Sabbath school — The hospital — A melancnoly incident — Mistaken parents — First Sabbath in the penitentiary — Sermon — Interesting spectacle— Talk 'with the warden — Visit to the female departm°,nt — Four whites, three blacks — Tuesday — Pri- vate meditation — Wednesday — Second visit to tlie hospital — Deep jejiravity — Dark prospect — Another call on the female depart- ment — An affecting case — A histor}^ of wretchedness — Admonition to parents — Sermon in the outer hall — A weeping penitent — A day in the countrj^-— Secret prayer for the prisoners — Teaching them to read — Want of intellectual culture — Showering convicts — New lodgings — "Confessions" of a murderer — Pernicious publica- tions — Smith on Universalisra — End of the first week. On the second day of April, 1846, I commenced my la- bors as chaplain in the penitentiary of Ohio. In company with Rev. Granville Moody and Dr. Gard, I passed through every part of the spacious prison. The workshops, the cells, and eating halls, were among the first and principal objects of my attention. Having never before been within the walls of this institu- tion, the sight of the degradation and misery, which here became apparent, greatly affected me. Often had I at- tempted to describe, in the public congregation, this latter end of Aice ; but what I now beheld beggared all description. Here were all ranks and ages, from the man of high life to the meanest pickpocket, from the gray-haired man of eighty down to the boy of fourteen years. They were all dressed in striped clothing; all seemed depressed and broken down in spirits; all were silently at work, w^ithout the hope of remuneration, under the inspection of well-appointed watch- ers. A dark cloud of melancholy, betokening the anguish of their meditations, was settled on every countenance. "O, my God!" I inwardly exclaimed, "what a hfe, what a condition, for an immortal creature !" On the following Sabbath (April 5) I visited the Sabbath 22 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. school, where I found about fifty in attendance. Being in- vited to open the exercises with prayer, I knelt down and found free access to the throne of God in behalf of my ncAV and interesting charge. Going next to the hospital, I found many sick ; and the gloom of tliis prison scene seemed here to gather unmixed blackness. Sickness, in itself an evil, was doubly so with those, who had but little care for either life or death ; and from this moment I observed, that the virtue of the best of medical aid lost much of its power to heal, in men whose thoughts were so little prepared to buoy up the body when failing with disease. Among the number here described, I saw the son of a former friend. He was tlie youngest of his father's family, once a sprightly, promising, happy boy, the idol of fond pa- rents, who, to my certain knowledge, had indulged the highest hopes of one day seeing him the ornament of society, nnd, among his fellows, a star of the first magnitude. But, reader, I think I know the great fault of these parents. They were too indulgent to their children. They gave them too much their own way in every thing. They spared cor- rection and spoiled their child. O, how pitiful was the sight of that once lovely boy, now a prisoner, now dressed in the hated prisoner's garb, now caged with criminals of the blackest character ! and the once quiet, cheerful, happy hearth, from which he came, thrown into disgrace, and wretchedness, and mourning ! Let every parent, who reads these lines, remember the fate of this young man, and by what domestic mistake he came to this sad end ! As I may allude to his case again, the reader will recognize him under the initial, P. My first Sabbath in the penitentiary was one of great in- terest to me. Many of my old friends in the city came in lo listen to my introductory discourse ; most of the prison- ers were out ; and such a congregation as I then saw affected me most strangely. Taking my text in Luke xv, 2 : " This MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 28 man receiveth sinners and eateth witli them," I cast my case upon the Lord, and he helped me wonderfully. The ofter of mercy and of full pardon was freely made to the repenting and returning prodigal. Many wept, and some were awakened, the latter giving evidence of their sincerity by the consistency of their future efforts for salvation. Monday was spent chiefly in conversation with the war- den in relation to the rules and regulation of the prison, the responsibilities and privileges of the chaplain, including, par- ticularly, his opportunities of visiting and conversing with the convicts. Obtaining full satisfaction upon all these points, and finding that I had all the scope for doing good to the souls of my charge which could be safely granted, I con- cluded the day by a visit to the female department. Here I found seven females, four Avhites and three blacks, objects of pity, if such objects are to be seen anywhere. The four whites, astonishing to tell ! had no look of degradation about them. They were all young, and fair, and even beautiful, making a striking contrast to the gloomy place in which I found them. All around these blooming young Avomen were heard the gratino- of iron doors ; before and behind CO them were the dark cells in which they were locked up at night ; and on their faces, in spite of the beauty that marked their features, a cloud of deep remorse was resting. Remem- ber, reader, these young women are daughters ; they have parents; they once had friends and admirers! Tuesday was devoted to private business, to meditation on the responsibilities of my new charge, and to prayer for God's blessing upon my labors. The day was closed by the perusal of Smith on Universalism, which soul-destroying doctrine the author exposes in a most glaring manner. On Wednesday I undertook to get a more accurate idea of the condition of the prisoners. I first went to the hos- pital, where I read and expounded the Scriptures, and prayed with the suffering and almost hopeless patients 8 24 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. Some of them seemed tender in their feehngs ; while others looked upon me as an enemy — a spy upon their conduct — a wolf in slieep's clothing. With a heavy heart at finding such sentiments in those, whom it was my sole business and inten- tion to benefit, I left them and visited again the female de- partment, where I found the eldest of the three women sick and desponding. I conversed freely with her on the state of her soul. At first she seemed sullen, and was disinclined to converse with me ; but afterward her heart was somehow touched, and she wept bitterly. She gave me, at length, a Drief account of her former life, in nearly these words : " 1 once had loving parents, a good home, and fine prospects, in a worldly point of view. When quite young, I sought and experienced a change of heart, and tried to live relig- iously. I was then happy, happy in the pardoning love of God, from day to da}'. But I married a wicked man. I lost my faith, my devotion, my happiness in religion. Not wish- ing to return injury upon him I once loved and trusted, ay, trusted too far, I can only say, I am now in this frightful place in consequence of having married an irreligious man." And here her emotion was excessive. Let her example be a warning to her sex generally. Let parents think of it, when about to give away their religiously-educated daughters to men whose hearts have not been purified by the power of religion. Having prayed with and exhorted the weeping woman in general terms, I entreated her particularly to return to that God whom she had so ungratefully and wickedly abandoned, encouraging her that there was mercy as well as pardon in heaven to meet her case and restore licr again to peace and even happiness. She promised to follow my advice by seeking the Lord from that moment. All the women wept excepting the eldest of the three blacks, who was a hardened and wretched being, ' Returning to the hospital, and standing in the outer hall, r expounded this text, "Wilt thou be made whole?" There MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 25 was one person, in the group, avIio seemed to be in deep distress. After finishing my discourse, I approached this individual, putting to him the question, "Wilt thou be made whole?" He wept profusely, and, with great anguish and bitterness of spirit, "No, no," said he; "the day of grace is past with me." I showed him the great compassion of the Savior, his willingness to save all who come unto him, and his most gracious promises to the greatest of sinners. Finally, this man was prevailed on to make another trial of God's mercy, to abandon his disbelief, to seek salvation by repentance and faith in the Lord Jesus, and to hope in the possibility of pardon. As I was leaving the room, after having talked with the other prisoners, this wretched man followed me to the door, and besought me to come to his cell, and teach him the way of salvation more perfectly. 0, how I felt for him ! Thursday was spent in the country, where Rev. Mr. Con- rey had invited me to preach to his people. I here found several old brethren, and, among them, a preacher to whom 1 gave hcense to preach, in 1819. How happy it makes an old man, to meet with the friends and comrades of his former years ! On Friday morning I awoke about four o'clock, and found my soul in close communion with God, and in ardent prayer for these poor spirits in prison. I could no longer rest, but arose, went to the hospital, and read a portion of God's ?rord to the sick, throwing out such expository hints as occurred to me at the moment. I exhorted them not to delay one minute the work of repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ. On going thence into the female department, I made special examination of their early advantages for education, and found that the majority of them could neither read nor write. From this moment I began to give them lessons in reading and writing, in nddition to my regular duties to them. I was forcibly 26 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. strurk, not only lierc, but everywhere among the prisoner's, with the fact, that the neglect of even intellectual culture is often the first step to vice. Most convicts are not only uneducated, but men of inferior mind ; and every thing which tends, like a sound education, to expand the faculties "ind enlarge their reach of comprehension, goes far towaid raising mankind above the \xse temptations and low tricker-^ of crime. To this point I call the special attention of legis- lators and of teachers. As I returned from the hospital the guards and other offi- cers were inflicting the punishment, technically called shower- ing, to eleven of the prisoners, for a breach of rules. This operation, which is one of the most terrible to the prisoners, generally, may need description. The prisoner is tied to a plank. His feet are confined at the bottom, and the head is held to its place by a sort of head-stall, so that he can move neither head, nor feet, nor hands, nor any part of his body. He is absolutely pinioned to liis place. The plank is set upright. From above the poor victim tliere comes down a spout of cold water, about half an inch in diameter, with tremendous force, directly on his naked head. No one, without experience, knows any thing of the torture of this infliction. Men of great physical strength will endure it for some time, without giving signs of pain ; but most pri.soners look upon this punishment with inexpressible horror. I may add, that it has recently, in many prisons, taken the place of whipping; but the reader must decide upon its merits as a mode of punishment. Saturday morning found me earl}' at the prison. I had obtained the privilege, through the solicitation of my kina friend, General Patterson, of boarding in the family of the warden, so that I might be as little separated from my interesting charge as possible. This day I moved into my new quarters, which I solemnly dedicated to God, kneeling upon my knees. As the Sabbath was approaching, I spent MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 27 the remaining liours in reading the Scriptures, in prayer, and in meditation, except a short time devoted to the perusal of the "Confession of Thomas Dean, hung at ChilHcothe, for the murder of Edwards." I was induced to read this tract from the consideration, that it treated of a subject (crime) now become the object of my study; but, in laying it aside, I felt bound to set it down as a most pernicious book, as are nearly all publications of this sort. Instead of deterring from vice, they teach the ways of iniquity to old and young; and there is almost always such an attempt at the heroic, in these works, that the youthful mind, in particular, which •we most wish to guard from such things, is very likely to be led into a secret admiration of the deeds described, in spite of the glaring criminality of the man. In the evening I read a few more pages of Smith ou Universalism. I must record again my high estimate of this book. Universalism has been the means of bringing many of my miserable charge to their present ruin ; and I feel called upon to give it my most severe rebuke, from this Golgotha, where the skulls of its slain victims are so profusely strown. Having now given a synopsis of the labors of my first week, I lay down the pen, for a short time, entreating my indulgent reader to meditate on the topics herein presented, with a special view to the great interests of society, as involved in the perpetration and punishment of crime. 28 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. CHAPTER III. Morning meditations — Conversation willi a female convict — Pub- lic service — Talk with a weeping youth — His descent to ruin — Sabbath-breaking and murder — A second youthful murderer — The hospital — Visit to the prisoners in their cells — Distribution of tracts — Tlie poor orphan — Full-grown infidels — Bad books — A young Catholic learning to read — His thoughts on religion and prayer — Bad conipauy — Disobedience to parents the beginning of evil — A reprobate — Conversation and prayer — A happy prisoner— A persecuted youth — A dispnter — A reformed and converted drunkard — Confession of a ruined lawyer — Meeting at Wesley chapel — Reinforcement from Cincinnati — Vicissitudes of the world — Personal illness — ^Visit from one of the guard — An anec- dote — Effect of diet — Another new-comer — Convict discharged — An affecting time. This morning (Sabbath, April 12) I arose early, after a comfortable night's rest, and ofi'ered my customary sacrifice to God, praying especially for his grace to prepare me for the labors of the day. My soul was particularly drawn out in supplication for my new charge, that the word dispensed might convince their understandings, and melt their hearts, and bring them to immediate action m the work of repent- ance and faith toward God. Before entering upon the public duties of the day, I had a conversation with one of the females, who seemed to be greatly broken up, weeping and saying that she had com- mitted the sin against the Holy Ghost, and that there remained no more sacrifice for sin. I endeavored to en- courage her with the promises of God to all who believe on the name of Jesus; and, with some emphasis, I exhorted her to immediate prayer. "Tliis," said she, "is a poor place for devotion." "Any place," I replied, "is acceptable to God, and should be equally so to us. Besides, this is God's time, the day of salvation to you, provided you repent and believe his word." She seemed to assent, after this, to what I said. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 29 111 the public congregation I had an open time. I felt that God watered my own soul while I labored in his vine- yard. After preaching I visited several of the prisoners, and among the rest a young man, whom I will call R., aged sixteen years, committed for manslaughter. I found him wcejiing and reading his Bible. I conversed with him freely, and tried to show him the exceeding sinfulness of sin. He told mc about his mother, whose heart he had broken, and for whose sake he regretted his conduct more than for liis own. He spoke, too, of the Sabbath school which he had been accustomed to attend. Let mc give my young reader the tale, told me Avith tears by this imfor- tunate and guilty youth. "One of my schoolmates and myself," said he, "had been at Sabbath school that fatal morning. On returning home, Ave Avere induced to accom- pany several other boys to a saw-mill not far off. On our arri\'al we fell to jumping, then to quarreling, at last to fighting. I struck my mate a blow, with no intent to kill, but, as I thought, in self-defense ; but, no sooner did he receive it, than he fell to rise no more. This," continued the lad, still weeping — "this came from Sabbath-breaking." Yes, had he gone directly home, and read his book, or returned Avith his parents to Church at the proper hour, he had not murdered his playmate, and he Avould not have been shut up in this gloomy prison, far from his friends and home. NoAA', his parents, his family, his friends, ha\'e re- ceived a wound Avhich time can never heal ; and he, poor fel.ow! wiL neA'er rise aboA^e this single act, but for ever carry the stain of it upon his reputation, and a tormenting recollection of it in his heart. My young friends, keep the Sabbath, and you will save yourselves from many ills. I then called upon another boy. He, too, Avas here for manslaughter; but his crime Avas certainly different in a moral point of vieAv. A burglar broke into his mother's house in the night, and on being ordered to retire refused. so MEMORIALS OF I'lUSON LIFE. His object was, of course, not to steal. The reader will know what it was. The boy caught a gun, and his mother commanded him to fire. He did so. The man died in a few days. The mother and the son were both committed for the crime. I will not speak of the justice of this com- mitment; the public must decide. I found the boy a kind- hearted fellow, tender in his feelings, and penitent for his sins. I procured him a Bible. He promised to read it and pray to God every day. I have no doubt he did. These two boys I put into the Sabbath school, and tried to be a fiither to them in their evil day. I went again, before dinner, to the female department, to pray with and catechise its inmates; and from here I pro- ceeded to the hospital. Many were sick, some very sick, and all as gloomy as the grave. I endeavored to cheer them with the consolations of the Gospel, and, by raising their confidence in the power of medicine, to heal their bodies, provided their souls could get at rest. One individ- ual was truly penitent. -After dinner 1 visited the prisoners in their cells. To one hundred and ten of them I, this day, distributed re- ligious tracts and Bibles. Some professed to have found pardon of God while in prison. Others seemed to be under deep conviction of their sins. The way of salvation, according to the plainest Scriptures, was the topic most in my heart and on my tongue. Some had been reared by religious parents. Some were Catholics. These all seemed tender; but there was a large proportion, who had had no religious training in their younger days; and their hearts were as hard as adamant. ^Maiiy of the latter had been left orphans, whose parents, while living, had taken good care of their morals; but, when bereaved of their natural watch-keepers, these orphans had been thrown into families who cared for nothing but money, or fashion, or fame, and gave themselves no concern for the welfare of these MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 81 destitute and afflicted ones. 0, the poor orphan! How my heart bled for him this day ! Which of all the parents, who may read these lines, knows that his own dear children may not soon be left as destitute as these ? See to it, then, that you lay up for them the good opinion of society, and especially the favor of the Almighty, by showing kindness to those of this afflicted class, Avho may be living and struggling in your midst. Take the poor orphan by the hand and help him up. He may be a blessing to you, and to the world, in a future day. I found some hardened infidels in these dungeon cells They were steeped in crime ; and their souls were as hard as the granite rock. They had been cursed and ruined by bad books. The works of Paine, and Voltaire, and Volney, and Chubb, and Shaftesbur}^ and similar productions, had been eagerly devoured by some of them ; and most of them had gone to infidelity through the convenient door-way of Universalism. What a fearful responsibility rests on those who make the reading of a nation or an age ! Here was a young Catholic. He was learning to read. He could just imderstand what he happened to be reading. "How do you like it?" said I to him, meaning his book, which was the Bible. "As far as I understand it, well," said he in reply. " Have you learned this much from it," I continued, "that none but Christ can forgive sins?" "Yes," he answered promptly, "and that Mother Church 18 wrong in many things, which I never could comprehend tefore — at least," he added, "if this book is true; and I believe it is." "I am glad," said I, "that you have begun to read the Bible." "Ah," exclaimed the poor fellow, "if I had been taught to read and reverence this book, which I could have carried with me when going beyond the reach and influence of religious instruction, I think I never should have been in such a place as this ; and it is hard to reflect that our early instruction, for which we are not accountable. 32 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. by making sin so venial a tiling that man can pardon it, tends to blind our minds, to corrupt our hearts, and to lead us into the paths of vice. But if I ever get out of this prison, I think I shall try to learn and know things for myself." This was the doctrine of private judgment as- serted by one whom the opposite doctrine had greatly injured in body and in soul. This man had a clear head. I asked him if he had begun to pray to Christ for the pardon of his sins. "No," said he, "not yet; but I havo prayed to the Virgin Mary, Christ's mother." I told him that she could not hear him ; that she was dead and gone to heaven; and that, if she could hear him, she had no power to forgive his sins. " You must pray to God," said I, "who, for Christ's sake, will forgive you your trespasses." I directed his attention to the seventh chapter of Matthew, and, for the present, left him to consider upon what I had said. Several of the young mi'n, Avhen I approached them, began to weep, and asked me, from the fullness of their hearts, to pray for them. One of them addressed me in nearly the following words : " I am here for the first offense I ever committed of the kind. I was led away by bad company; and, particularly, by disobedience to my parents, added to this evil inlluence from without, I have been brought to this dreadful place. My heart is broken for my poor parents. The bleeding heart of my mother is contin- ually before me : I hear she is dying of a broken heart. O, my mother! my mother! my mother!" Covering his face with his pallid hands, he wept most bitterly. He was nol the only one I found among the convicts, who traced his calamities to the sin of disobedience to parents. Many others told me a very similar tale. My youthful reader, listen to these piteous cries, look upon these falling tears, and think of these withering hearts. Remember, disobedi- ence to parents was the first step in the downward road MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFK. 33 Reaieiaber that, every time you disobey your parents, you take one step toward the dark, damp, doleful cell, where tliis young man, once as happy and as hopeful as you are, now dwells! I found several to-day who had been religiously educated, but who, carried away by the spirit of the world, had for- jaken prayer, their family duties, afterward public worship, «,nd had gone, step bj^ step, from the house of God to the regions of misery and despair. Ye who neglect your Christian duties, lay this to heart. Men never, or seldom, fall all at once: by gradual and almost imperceptible degrees, they let go their hold on God, and God relin- quishes his supporting hand from them. Be careful of the first act of sin. I passed to a cell where I found a man about twenty-four years of age, sitting with his arms folded across his breast. His countenance was deeply marked with care. A fore- boding fear, interchanged with a look of fixed despair, settled upon his manly brow. "Young man," said I to him, " do you not feel bad ?" " yes, I do ;" the young man replied. "Do you ever pray to God for comfort in your hours of loneliness and distress?" "No, I do not." '■' And what is your reason for neglecting so plain a duty, and so sweet a privilege?'' " I am a reprobate, made expressly to be damned." " Then you think that some men are made to be lost ?" "Yes, I do." " Where did you leani this doctrine ?" " Of my parents ; and the Bible teaches it also." "Why, then, are you so sad? If God decreed that you should be lost, then he decreed the means by which you are to reach that end ; that is, he decreed that you should commit the crime for which you have been sent here. So you have been doing the will of God ; nor could you help doing it. You have, consequently, done no wrong. Do 34 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. you, then, think that God will punish one of his creatures for doing his Avill — for doing what he could not help*? Besides, the Bible plainly says that God would have all men to come to the knowledge of the truth. This doctrine of decrees, as you have stated it, is positively false; tliere is not one word of truth in it. Do you think that God can lie?" "No." "Well, then, God says, (Ezek. xxxiii, 12,) 'As I live, saith the Lord God, T have no pleasure in the death of the wicked.' Read this whole chapter. Compare it with all parts of the Bible. Christ died for all: the Spirit en- lightens all : the Gospel invites all. The promises of God are to all that repent, forsake their sins, and believe on Christ. The Bible teaches a very different doctrine from what your parents taught you; and you ought to pray to God constantly, until you find the pardon of your sins." " But, sir, the Bible says the prayers of the wicked are an abomination to the Lord." " You do not say that that declaration is in the Bible ? If so, I have never seen it; and I rather imagine it is a specimen of fireside Scripture." "I can show it to you, sir," said the man, suddenly pick- ing up his Bible. " No, you can't," said I ; " and I will give you one week to consider the subject, and to find the passage." O, what a soul-destroying doctrine ! If it were true, no sinner, nay, no man on earth, could consistently pray fo God ; but one did pray and say, " God be merciful to ttie a sinner !" and God heard the prayer, and sent the poor man to his house justified. God commands, in more thin one place, all men to pray, and that without ceasing. He has promised, too, to hear and answer the prayers of penitent sinners. You may now pray ; you may knock at the door of mercy, and it shall be opened to you. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 35 I left the man in a better state than that in which I found him. Hope began to spring up within him. He engaged with me to pray till he should find pardon. In another cell I found P. rejoicing in hope. He had been, since I had seen him, deeply afflicted with a sense of his sins, and, especiall}-, of the sin of abusing the instruc- tions of his pious parents. After much crying to God, he had found peace, and could say, " Whereas he was once angry with me, his aflger is now turned away, and he com- forteth me." With a beautiful submissiveness of spirit, he said to me as I approached him, "I have no more com- plaints to make against Divine Providence, or against society. My punishment is just; and God, in his infinite mercy, has sanctified it to my good." Yes, reader, the man was as happy as any man, in or out of prison. Re- ligion had poured its hallowed consolations into his once troubled soul. As I turned away from him I said to myself, " True enough, this man is happy in the Lord ; and he now knows what the poet meant: 'And prisons -would palaces prove. If Jesus would dwell with me there.' " T found next a poor boy, who said he was trying to serve God and to pray ; " but, father," said he, in "a low tone of voice, "you cannot tell how much I suffer from the men in the next cell. They make fun of me ; they persecute me at every opportunity." I encouraged him to do his duty and trust in God, telling him that they could not hurt him if he took care of himself. And so it is with us all, reader. I then passed to the next neighbor of this boy. " How do you feel to-day?" said I. "0, very well," he replied, "Do you ever think of death, or of the welfare of your soul in a future state?" "No," said he promptly, "I know nothing about it; that is all hid from me, and I can, of 'M)ui'se, have no care about it. God sent me into this world 36 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. without my consent, and, I suppose, to answer his own pleasure; and he will dispose of me as suits him best." The man seemed disposed to enter into an argument ; but I told hin: that that was not my business. I added, tliat God created him for his own purposes, true enough ; that one of those purposes was to love and serve his Creator; and that if he did not give himself up to God's service, he must be for ever miserable, "But give your whole heart tt» God," said I, "and you will then begin to know and realize the true end for which you were made." How sure it is, that if a man ever imbibes skeptical notions, he will either abandon them at once, or cling to them with more than common pertinacity in the hour of trouble ! Look about you, reader, and see if this is not always so. The next man I came to appeared to be very happy. He tried to get his hand through the iron grate to shake hands with me. "God has been merciful to me," said he; "and I am, I trust, a better man for having come to this prison. I was a drunkard ; I got drunk whenever I could find an opportunity; and if I had been left at home last winter, I might have frozen to death on some of my drinking expeditions, and gone to hell. My reason was entirely gone in this particular : my appetite was my master. Often had I tried to reform, but always found myself an abject slave to my accursed appetite. But this prison, thank God! has been to me like a Total Abstinence Society. No sooner did I get here, and the whisky was all out of me, than I began to come to myself again — to see myself as I used to ; and I saw myself, after so much of inir|uity and crime, standing on the very brink of perdition, Avith no safety but in God. I began to pray. My sins seemed Avorse and worse the more I prayed, until I thought their weiglit would sink me to the grave, and after that, to hell. In this deep distress 1 cried more and more unto God ; when, one night, it Boemed to me (hat (he cloud of gloom was beginning to '*>^ MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 37 hreak away. Next I thought I could see the Savior's face and I hiid, by an act of faith, tliese Avords upon my trem- bling heart, 'Thy sins are many, but I forgive them all. There came immediately into my heart such a flow of love, of peace, of joy, that I raised up erect, and shouted, to the top of my voice, ' Glory to God !' The guard came, and ordered me to keep still, or he would punish me. On hear- ing what I had to say, he said I was crazy ; but I could neither believe him nor restrain my joy. From that night my dark .cell has been the brightest that ever I saw ; and I would not now exchange my feelings for the richest crown ever worn on a monarch's brow." That, reader, is true religion, though m a humble shape. It will give us comfort, sometimes rapture, in the darkest hours of adversity, and under the worst of trials. The last man I visited this day had been well educated, had studied and practiced law, and had stood quite high in public esteem. "You see one now," said he, whose coun- tenance Avas pale with thought and sorrow — "you see one, who refers his present calamity to the neglect of the single duty of reading God's word. I was brought up to read the Bible, to pray, to be religious ; and, at one time, rehgious duties were a great pleasure to me ; but, becoming a politician, I first left off reading the Scriptures, next omitted prayer, then lost my religious feeling, and, last of all, slid into bad habits, into one species of criminality after another, till here I am. Had I only kept up the single habit of perusing daily the word of God, all else would have remained right, and I should not have been lost. Go, dear sir, tell every Christian you meet, especially the young m religious ways, never to give up or neglect this glorious duty and pnvilege. 0, could I stand on the dome or walls of this mighty prison, I Avould ask of God to give me a voice that could be heard all round the globe. And what do you think I would say? T would cry, sir. to all tlie ;38 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. world, 'The Bible — the Bible — read it — read it — ^read it, and ye shall live!'" Such, reader, is a specimen of the charge which God's providence has committed to my care. A prison, you perceive, is a little world. You find in it every species of i;haracter and disposition, with all the varieties of truth and error which we witness iu our daily walk. You may here profitably study the great world in the miniature which will b*" presented in our successive chapters. At the close of this day I went to my room, Aveary and sad ; but, on presenting my cause to the ear of the Almighty, my heart was encouraged, my mind was refreshed, and I laid me down to a most peaceful night's rest. Monday, April 13, was spent at a protracted meeting, at Wesley Chapel, on the Scioto. There I saw several old friends, Avhom I had not seen for a great many years. There was also a young man there, whose father was a Quaker, but he was himself a Methodist — a burning and shining youth. Alas, how many thus begin their Christian life, but. soon end in darkness and in sin! We know no young man, nor, indeed, any man, till he is fairly tried. Tuesday, April 14. Eight new-comers were this morning added to my charge, from Cincinnati. One of them had been here before. They all pretended to be in high spirits, seeming to care nothing about their situation. Poor fellows! they will feel differently, after they have been here a few months. I visited the hospital. Some have gone to their work, while others had become sick, and taken their place. So it is in the big world, only we do not get behind the curtain 80 easily as here, to sec how it goes. When we reflect the most profoundly on the shifting scenes of this "gay world," as it is called, how the spirit falls and the heart sickens at the sight! What changes have I witnessed for these three- Bcore years ! I have seen those who commenced life in a MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 39 log cabin — who were so poor that they could scarcely get the necessaries of life — made suddenly or gradually rich ; and they have lived to despise the very condition from which they sprung. I have seen, too, those born in afllu- ence, who looked with great haughtiness over the heads of the poor ; but, on becoming poor themselves, they wished to bo respected, and vainly tried to stand by the side of tho.se from whose society they had fallen. But they were spurned away. How ridiculous, how wicked, how foolish, for any man to think more of himself, or of any one else, for the amount of money carried in the pocket ! For the two following days, Wednesday and Thursday, I was quite sick Avith a bilious attack. I was my own physician — bled myself — fainted — took boneset tea, and Qursed myself. This I did, not because we had not a good physician in the prison, nor because he would not have been perfectly ready to dp every thing for me in his power, but because for years I have been fearful of taking medicine ; and when I prescribe for myself, I know what I am doing, and whether I need much or little physic. I am an old man, and I have long since learned, by observation in civil- ized as contrasted with savage life, that the health and hves of thousands are annually sacrificed to the stupid practice of depending on medicine too much. Did we take care of ourselves, Ave should need medicine but seldom ; and when we did, simple remedies would answer. We do not learn that the antediluvians, who lived to such ages, had any d jctors at all ; and the old patriarchs after the Flood preserved their health "and protracted their lives by temper- ance, good air, abundant exercise, and a calm trust in God. The most of modern diseases come from the bad habits of what we call civilized society. Let us become really civil- ized, and live according to good sense and observation, and ninety-nine out of every hundred of our physicians might be dismissed, to engage in some other employment. ■i 40 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. While 1 was lying on my bed, in a convalescent and rather comfortable condition, one of the guard came in, and related to me several anecdotes about the prisoners ; and the reader knows, it may be, how pleasant it is, in such a situa- tion, when all danger is passed, and when we are not able to engage in more active duties, to give the mind up to conversation on interesting topics. Most persons, I have been told, when recovering from sickness, fall into a poetic spirit; but 1 confess, for mj'self, that, at such times, I enjoy nothing better than to listen to instructive anecdotes and stories. Among the entertaining narratives related to me by this keeper, was an account of a very recent attempt, among three of the prisoners, to break the inclosure and escape. They had carrieati(in with him — Fiiconq\iercd and unconquerable — A child of tlic Emerald Isle — Kindness. Sabbath morning, April 10, dawned clear and beautiful. I was unable to take my place in the pulpit, llev. Gran- ville Mood}', liowever, volunteered his services, and preached to the prisoners with great acceptabilit}^ and profit. Many tears were shed under his sermon, and much good was done in the name of the Lord Jesus. There has been a growing of interest in the public mind for the welfare of the convicts ; the people from the city come in more numerously; and there is a better influence exerted for them. Nothing remarkable occurred in the prison during Mon- day, Tuesday, "Wednesday, and Thursday of this week. Jly duties were not vancd much from what they had been. Friday, April 24. My liealth is perfectly restored. My soul has been kept in peace. Tliis morning I read, in the Nashville Christian Advocate, what the editor thought, no doubt, would be a very witty taunt, to the effect, "that Rev. J. B. Finley is now just where he deserves to be — in the Ohio penitentiary." The uninitiated reader must h< told, that I was born and raised in a slave state; that 1 became an enemy to .slavery a great many years ago; thai^ at the General conference of 1844, held in the city of Now York, I had the honor of offering the resolution by which a bishop of the Metliodist Episcopal Church was virtually reproved for connecting himself with slavery; and that this little piece of slang grew out of the opposition thus pro- duced in the mind of the pro-slavery editor of the above- named journal. Now, then, let mo here say, that I would MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 45 rather spend my life in teaching the Gospel of God to these poor prisoners, than t;p die with my liands red with the blood of my fellow-men, or to drop the slave-whip to go to my last account, or to carry the consciences of those men, who, professing to be the followers of the meek and loAvly Jesiis, can preach sermons, write books, and frame labored argimients from the Scriptures in favor of holding the Kouls and bodies of immortal men in bondage. Nay, I would rather take one of these cells as my last earthly residence, than to spend my life, as these southern ministers, and editors, and doctors of divinity do, in riveting the chains of the poor slave merely to gain the favor of a wicked generation and a gaping multitude ! Go on, plead- ers for iniquity! but you will one day come to a most fearful reckoning ! The last day of this week w^as a poor day for me. I was not well. But, toward night, I sallied into the great yard, where I can always find work enough. There I met a man whom I shall call L. I asked him about the state of his soul. The tears stood in his eyes. He said he felt bad. His body was emaciated and tottering to the grave. His soul, he said, was distressed and in every way unhappy. Looking into his pallid face, I exhorted him to apply to the great Physician, told him of his ability to heal both soul and body, and entreated him to refer his case to God. The f.oor fellow wept tears of emotion, if not of sorrow for his ains; and I really believe that he commenced heartily to took the salvation of his soul. From all I can learn, both from reading and observation, the idea of laboring for the spiritual regeneration of prison- ers is comparatively new. Time was, indeed, when the convict was locked up as a being who had forfeited all the rights of man, or as a beast in human shape, who never had any rights to lose. For centuries after the light of Christianity shone upon the world, the consequences of the \ i6 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. old Pagan civilization were so rife, in society, that men were thrown into a dunijeon and never thoiif^ht of or cared for more. When chaplains were first appointed, they never dreamed of doincj more than attending to the morals of the prisoners, not conceiving that the salvation of these. poor men depended much upon the exertions of those ap- pointed to teach them religious truth. The truth is, chap- lains were sent to these places, in the first instances, rathei to exert an influence in favor of good order and discipline, than to labor for the religious welfare of their charge. Re- ligion itself, in those times, was very much in the hands of those who scarcely believed in the necessity of a change of heart ; and then ministers, Avho belonged to the sects most popular in that day, received nearly all the appointments of this kind. Now, however, it is expected of a chaplain, that he win exert himself for the poor convicts just as he would for the people of a parish, or congregation, where he might be called to labor, so far as the circumstances of the case will allow ; and I must here confess, that, during the many years of my ministry in the Church of God, I have never felt a stronger desire, nor labored harder, to obtain of God a season of revival, than while in this gloomy place. I have wanted to see here the outpouring of the spirit of the Lord. I have desired to hear the voice of penitence, of prayer, of praise, in all these doleful cells. I have longed to listen to the shouts of victory going up from every department — "The dead's ahvc and the lost is found!" I have asked God to send such power into the circumference of these rocky walls, that all work would be voluntarily given up; that prisoners and keepers would get down together upon their knees; that the work might go on and spread, till al. hearts should be made to rejoice in the glorious salvation of our common Lord. Then we would go to work again with our souls full of love, of purity, and of joy. It is useless, it is wrong, reader, to allow yourself to thrust such grand MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 47 lesults entirely beyond the reach of your halting faith. Let us rather pray, that the Ohio penitentiary, and every othei in this sin-cursed woild, may become such a centre, such a focus, of the powers and influences of our holy religion, that no man could spend much time within their walls without going out a converted man. That, it seems to me, is the way to have " righteousness and peace kiss each other." May God in his mercy speed the advent of such a day ! The next one I met was C, who, I had been told, had been a preacher. He does not deny the statement, I be- lieve. I accosted him aff'ectionately, but decidedly : " Well, C, you have fallen from grace ?" " 0, yes," he rephed, " and from a great height of enjoy- ment." "Did you fall by a sudden temptation, or by a slow process?" " By a slow process." "What were your steps downward?" "First, neglect of secret prayer, then of family prayer, next association with worldly and wicked men, immediately the love of money, consequently the violation of the holy Sabbath in my efforts to get rich, last of all, when begin- ning to be a little prosperous, a desire to enjoy the world's pleasure, which last particular led me on, till I fell into the company of lewd women. These, sir, are the rounds in the ladder down which I have traveled from a state of heavenly enjoyment almost to hell." 0, what a fall ! Let the reader mark the successive steps. I have observed, through a long life, that his first sin is almost universally the first with all who take the downward road. This man has good talents and sound sense, now he has come to his reason. He says he is trying to get back io his lost estate again, but finds the way dark and difficult He thought, when he was first meditatinor a sliofht relaxa- lion from the severity of Christian principle, that it would 5 48 MEMOKIALS OF PRISON LIFE. be easy euougli to regain any damage he might thereby suffer; but he tells me, what I have been told before, that sins thus deliberately committed, with the secret expectation of faUing back, at last, on the known mercy of God, weigh hke mountains on the guilty soul, while faith in that mercy, which had been so presumptuously relied on, is next to im- possible. He says he has a faint glimmering of hope, now and then, and fain would trusit in God to renew him to eternal life again ; but he wishes me to warn all the world against these deliberate departures from the upright way. I left him with the prayer of the Psalmist of Israel in my mouth — "Save me from presumptuous sins!" The next man I met was a true son of the forest. He is an Osage. He has been here a long time ; but he is still an Indian, with all his native pride, and with the courage of a veteran warrior. Tiie reader may be pleased to hear him talk a little : " Me good man. Sometimes me fight. Dese man [pointing to the guard] sometimes strike me. Me make war on him. My chief [meaning the warden] he good man. He no strike. Me no tight liim. Me want to go home to my tribe. Me want to see my squaw and my sons. They be big warriors now, me think. My squaw very good. My tribe once big, now little, soon go out, like candle burn up. Me want to go and see my tribe before they all go out, like old camp-fire. Indian have hard time. White folks come, take all his land, all game, all fish, all every thing. Thea they put Indian in prison, if he go take one little thing back again, when he starve and don't know where to get bread. His squaw starve. His children starve too. Indian cry to see all starve. Then he go hunt and find nothing. White folks kill all the game. Indian then go get something, little, to give squaw and children, for them not stai*ve, and white man run after Indian, catch him, and send him here, where he think all time of his squaw, his children starve, and his big tribe all go out like camp-fire." There is a great MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 401 deal of natural eloquence in this fellow; and more truth than poetry in his complaints against the conduct of the whites. But I thought I could do him no better service than to point liim to the Savior. "Osage," said I, "do you love the Great Spirit?" " Yes, me all love Great Spirit." "Do you try to be good, and pray to him?" "Yes, me talk great much Avith Great Spirit. Great Spirit hear me talk much. He love me. He love my tribe. Great Spirit good to Osage great mucli many moons. Osage love Great Spirit always — speak much to Great Spirit — make great heap much worship to Great Spirit." "Did you ever pray to the Great Spirit's Son, who came here to die for us poor sinners?" ''No, me not know Great Spirit's Son. Me know him Great Spirit. He good to poor Indian — let him go up when he die to live in Great Spirit's house. Osage then have all much game — white man no kill all Indian's game ; white man then love poor Indian." After going into a pretty thorough explanation of the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, which the fellow readily comprehended, I left him for that time. He is, as I said, an unconquered son of the forest. No man can govern him but the warden, whom he seems to reverence, calling him his chief. Next I fell in with B., a native of the Emerald Isle. He has no relations in this country. He is worn down witli disease. He is a Catholic, and, consequently, almost per- fectly ignorant of the Bible ; but he has some convictions of sin, and an idea of the future state. I addressed him kindly, which seemed to rouse up the native impulses of his warm Irish heart. When I exhorted him to cease praying to the saints, and to make his w^ants known directly to his God, telling him that his heavenly Father was aa willing to hear him as his priest, or even the Pope himself, 50 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. the idea seemed to astonisli him. He, however, appearetl to believe it. The tear started in his eye. I took it as a proof that my words had found a resting-place in his mind: and I was again impressed, as I have often been before, that the true way to reach the Cathohc population of our country, and to turn them from the error of their way, is to treat them kindly, and win them to the truth by gentle- ness and love. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LITE. 51 CHAPTER V. Bishop Hamline — Rev. Mr. Moody — The Gospel desired — A life commitment — A soundly-converted man — Two steps in the road lo ruin — Visit to tiic hospital — A young man from New Eng laud — His narrative — Sabbath breaking — Crime — "Warning to the young — Conversion can occur in prison — A forger and a burglar — Pathetic interview — Conversation and counsel — Hoary hairs — Dia- logue or. religion — Melancholy reflections — Danger of procrastina- tion — Female department — Extreme obduracy— A fatalist — Another cecessarian — Colloquy — Col. Dewey — Anniversary of the author's ministerial life. My fourtli week in the penitentiary dawned upon me in great serenity and beauty. Tlie morning of the Sabbath (April 26) was exceedingly lovely. My recent illness was not entirely passed; but I was comfortable. Bishop Haniline was preaching in Wesley Chapel this morning; so that Rev. Mr. Moody, who is always ready to help the needy, came to my assistance. His sermon was in demonstration of the Spirit and with power. It moved the assembly of prisoners in a wonderful manner. They wept universally ; and, in passing out, most of them came round to shake us by the hand. It was a great satisfaction to see them thus thankful for the blessings of the Gospel. It is a mistake entertained by many, tliat prisoners are not interested in religious teaching. Tlicre never was a more attentive or more teachable congregation, than the one I am now describing. Many of them would live on one meal a day, rather than give up their religious privileges; and some, I really believe, would relinquish nearly every earthly comfort for it. After dinner, this day, the warden sent for a man whom I wished much to see. I will call his name G. He is here for life. His crime was murder in the second degree — he having killed an associate in a drinking frohc. The warden related to me the story of the fight, while the messenger 52 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. •was gone to bring him. In a previous recounter the mau he killed had put out one of G.'s eyes. He now swore he would put out the other. G., on hearing the threat, and fearing it might be put in execution, which would throw him into perpetual and eternal darkness — a punishment equal to or worse than death — stabbed his antagonist, and he died. The criminal was now bvouQ-ht in. His fame has filled the prison. Indeed, it has gone far beyond its walls. He is now evidently, Avithout the shadow of a doubt, a very pious man. The discipline of the prison has wrought a complete revolution in liis habits ; and the Spirit of God has effected a still profounder revolution in the powers and faculties of his soul. There can be no deception, it seems to me, in his case. All the guards, and all the officers, who know how to detect hypocrisy without much chance of mistake, agree in testifying to the sincerity of the man. I examined him faithfully in doctrines and experience. I found liim Scriptural throughout. His life, he says, is one continual flov,- of joy, excepting the pain he derives from the remembrance of his former life. how he wept over his past follies! "Two things," said he, "grieve me more than all the rest. The first is, my long-continued disobedience to my parents. My mother, especially, I greatly abused. This, though I have sinned deeply, won- derfully, fearfully in later life — this was the first step to ruin ; and it torments me daily, that my angelic mother was weighed down in sorrow to her grave by the pre- mature and continued wickedness of her son. But," added tlie man, with a heavenly smihs "I shall see her before long in glory ! She is now in heaven, resting sweetly in Abraham's bosom; and I liope she now knows that I have given my heart to God, and am penitent for my disobedi- ence to her kind discipline. I shall see her, I shall sec her," continued the prisoner, hfting his hands and his eyes MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 5d to heaven — " I shall see her before many years in the king- dom of eternal glory!" "But what," said I, "is the second error of your life, to which you just now referred ?" "Why, sir," replied the man, with great earnestness, "it is the manner in which I brought up my children. In this respect have I sinned greatly. My family never heard a single prayer in my house, nor any sort of religious in- struction — nor received the slightest reproof, or check, to the full play of their natural propensities. They grew up like wild shrubs about me, without care or culture. At length, my example became terribly corrupting to them and now, when I feel that I could do something for them, my crime shuts me up, and that justly, in this prison, while my children are probably taking the doAvn-hill road to ruin. What a fearful responsibility, kind friends, rests on every parent ; but it is a responsibility Avhich I have spurned and slighted." "Have you seen your family since your imprisonment?" "No, sir; nor should I now know my own childie^;, should t)iey come to see me." " What was your first step to a state of reason, and re- flection, and rclimon?" "The loss of my accustomed dram; for no sooner were ardent spirits taken from me, than I began to see my des- perate condition." "How long since you have used liquor?" "Never after the first three months of my confinement. 1 now hate it as my worst enemy."* "Do you believe that your sins are all forgiven — that you are bom again — that you are a child of God and an heir of heaven?" *Thi3 is true; for a bottle has been left in his room, of which he never drank a drop, nor seemed to have any uneasiness from its presence. 54 MEMOKIALS OF PRISON LIFE. " Ah . I should be the most miserable creature on eartL, did 1 not believe all that; for Avhat has such a man as 1, in such a place as this, after committing such crimes as sent mi; here, to hope, in the Avay of enjoyment, in a ■world so sinned against, in every form, as I have sinned against iliis? yes; I believe all these with all my heart." "Would you like to get out of prison?" " 1 ha\e no desire on that subject. I am here justly perhaps I am most safe in such a place — more likely to make my way to heaven ; and I am not certain what I could now do for my poor abused family." The following morning, (April 27,) being in good health, I visited the hospital, where, among other interesting cases, I found a young man who had been reared in one of the eastern states, where education, and morality, and industry, are so characteristic of the people. I felt a great curiosity, as soon as I learned this fact, to trace his progress down- ward, from the New England family circle to his present situation, lie gave me the following account of himself: "1 was reared by pious parents: one of my brothers is a minister of the Gospel, holding a high position in society, while I am in this gloomy prison. In early youth it was generally thought, I believe, that I had the advantage of liim in general talents; and I was also equal to him, perhaps, in moral luibits. He, however, set in his heart the notion of living, not for himself, but for the world, as l»e called it. Tliis I considered a freak of foolisliness, and told him that the world might live for itself, and so would I; that the world would never thank him for living for it, if it ever took any notice of him Avhatever; and that the tnie idea of life was for every man to take care of himself, for then all would be taken care of, except those who might be bom in sorrow and affliction, whom I proposed to help. So, in our early days, there was a difference of spirit MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 56 between us. He set out to live for others, I for myself; and the result you see before you. lie took his patrimony in education, devoting all his early days to study. I took mine in money, and left my native land for the far west, in- tending to be a man of business. As the country was new, and the market-towns were sparse, I concluded I could do best in selling goods fiom house to house, and immediately commenced peddling. My employment was lucrative. I made money rapidly. My mind became intoxicated with the love of gain. My first deviation from strict propriety was Sabbath-breakiniT. After I had canvassed a town or neighborhood, if Sunday dawned on me immediately after, I was tempted to ride to the next town that day, so as to be ready for business early the next morning. This practice soon led to another. As I would be passing on Sabbath through the country, some one would be almost sure to hail me, as my goods were in much demand. At first I refused to sell on Sunday ; but, thinking the matter over, I concluded there was no more sin in stopping my wagon for a few minutes, here and there, than there was in passing forward ; perhaps there was not as much : and so, in a short time, I formed the habit of stopping whenever hailed by the inliab- ilants. But I did my work, on these days, with more than ordinaiy quiet. Soon, however, I thought there would be no more sin in my hailing them than in allowing them to hail me; and 1, consequently, next commenced calling for customers in the ordinary way. This was done, for a time, with not the usual noise and bustle ; I observed particular decorum in parts thickly settled ; but in those very sparsely inhabited I soon began to act and feel just as on other days. It was not long, of course, before ray conduct in the sparsely- settled districts, Avhich are the most common in our western country, so ffir gained on me as to cover the whole Sabbath, wherever I might be. I rode, and hailed customers, and jold my fabrics, without a scruple. The sacredness of the 56 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. day, the day itself, was blotted from my conscience. This, sir, was my tirst great transgression. " The next came as a natural consequence of the first. 1 was now in tlie habit of breakinix one of God's command- mcnts without fear or feeling; why keep the other nine? Would that make my case any better? If I had rebelled tlius boldly and systematically against the authoiity of God, could I be any thing more than a settled rebel ? Not that I jumped immediately to this conclusion; but, with many twinges of conscience, I gradually slid over, from one sin to another, till I was lost to all moral principle. " There I was, then, a depraved man, corrupt in every part of me, ready for almost any work on the occurrence of a sufficient temptation. The temptation came; the crime was committed ; and here I am. O, my friend, send out a warning voice to all the world, especially to the young, never to take the course I took. My first sin, you see, was resolving to lead a selfish life. My brother re- solved to live a life of benevolence. Behold the difference! He is now a talented, respected, influential minister of God, saving hundreds annually from their sins, and laying up for himself treasures in heaven. Here am I, a poor, diseased, miserable convict, in a state's prison, with not one pleasant reflection to enliven the past — Avith no earthly hope to shed a sweet ray on the thick blackness of the future!" He had been a Universalist before his arrest, and even after it; but sickness, and the prospect of death, brought him to his senses. He began to pray. God harrowed up his conscience. Light at length began to break in upon iiim. He continued to pray for pardon for nearly eight months. His supplications and penitence were at length regarded. He was enabled to believe. He now rejoices in God his Savior. Though he has no earthly hope, as he said, yet his confidence of reaching heaven is now strong. He tlianks God for having arrested him, even by sending MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 57 him to prison, in his mad career; for lie thinks that he should otherwise have almost certainly gone down to eter- nal ruin. Tlie reader will perceive, by this and other cases, that punishment, in a well-conducted prison, is restorative as well as penal. Tuesday, April 28. Two poor fellows were admitted last evening, the one for forgery and the other for burglary. I went out this morning to see them, and found them sitting together, solitary and alone. This season of silence and solitude given to a prisoner on his first entrance, is good for him. I approached them and accosted them very kindly. One of them knew me, and said he had heard me preach. He has a wife and four small children. At the first word, his heart melted within him. "I cannot live here," he exclaimed, with tears running down his cheeks. "I am in poor health, having lain five months in jail, in close con- finement, where my constitution has been broken. I must die here soon. But to die in prison — my sweet wife, as charming a woman as ever smiled on a husband, and my four little cherubs, not yet old enough to know the wretch- edness of their condition, far from me ! 0, sir, I cannot — I cannot! Is there no mercy for me?" "Yes," said I, "there is mercy in abundance for you; but the mercy you think of, probably, is not the kind you most need." " 0, true," said the man, catching my meaning, " I know I need God's mercy — God's pardoning mercy — more than any thing else ; but my wife, my children — these are now the chief care to me. I could give myself up to any toi- ment, now or hereafter, seemingly — I could, at least, forget myself altogether, could I only, now that I see m3'self, be allowed to live and labor for their good solely. 0, my sweet little famil}"-!" "But your sentence is only for four years; and, in the meantime, you can do nothing better than to give yourself 58 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. up to the work of correcting your habits, disciphning your heart, and preparing yourself to be a greater blessing to your family, when you return to them. In a word, the thing you most want, at this time, is the religion of our Lord Jesus Christ, which will lay the foundation of all needed reformation, and make you, truly, a benefactor to your abused wife and children. I Avill leave you now," said I to him, "that you may reflect in silence upon youi condition ; but, whenever you Avish to see me, speak to your guard, and he will send me word. I will come at your call, whenever you wish to take counsel with me, in respect either to your temporal or to your eternal welfare." In the afternoon I again visited the hospital, hearing that there was an aged man sick, whom I had told before that his end was near. I found him very feeble. His appear- ance affected me profoundly. There he was, a very old man, with his wjiite locks, his sunken cheeks, his dim eye, his trembling hand, his tottering feet, standing on the borders of the grave. No one can realize, till the sight is witnessed, how melancholy it is to see a venerable-looking man, whose white hairs should command respect, confined as a criminal in such a place. lie, who, with his long staff, or seated in his easy chair, should be at home, viewing his farm and flocks, (jr reading his book in the cool of the day, with his children and grandchildren all about him, looking forward Avith hope to the period Avhen they should bear hira in mourning mixed with triumph to his honorable resting-place among the dead — to be here, reader, in this gloomy prison, sick and dying, Avithout a relative to stand by his bed, Avithout a child to close his eyes — expecting, in a few weeks, to be carried to a grave of ignominy, there not to rest a night, but to be rooted up from his place of burial by grave-yard robbers, and cut to pieces on the dis- fiecting table. 0, what a mournful sight, and hoAV full of horror the very thought! But, if his mind is unprepared MEMOiUALS OF PRISON LIFE. 50 for all this, more mouiiifiil still. Let us look into his case a little, I will call him L. " Do you know the Savior as your redeemer, my aged friend?" "No, sir, not as I know of," with a quivering voice. "Do you know that you must shortly die?" "Yes, I know that very well." " Do you believe in the atonement made by Jesus Christ, for the salvation of those who believe?" "I know but little about what you say." "What is your dependence for salvation, if you know httle or nothincf of the atonement ?" "Prayer." "To whom do you pray?" "To God." "For what do you pray?" " For what the book says." "What book?" " The prayer-book, to be sure. Is it not that by which we pray?" "It is not the book out of which we ought to pray." "What book, then?" "The heart. You should from the heart ask God to forgive your sins, to regenerate your soul, to adopt you as his child, to give you the witness of your acceptance, and. finally, to receive you into Abraham's bosom. You should pray from the heart, my old friend ; for book-praying, especially if you do not understand what the prayers mean, as you seem not to know, will do you no good." In this way I continued to open up to the old man's mind the way of salvation. I was impressed, never more so, with the folly, with the mischief, of teaching men to pray from books. If the publican did not need one, neither docs any m'an. As I left the old man another reflection came to my mind. 60 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. There he was, trying to be religious, having spent a long life in sin; and all the light he seemed to have was the little he obtained, in very early life, perhaps in childhood, from seeing the worship of the congregation while at church. He had made no progress. While all the world had been going forward, he had been standing still. Another thought occurred to me with great force ; and that was the difficult}' of a man's seeking and obtaining a change of heart at such an age. It is a solemn, an impres- sive fact, that few aged persons ever obtain religion. I am now, as I have said before, an old man myself. I have witnessed a great many revivals among all classes of men, among the whites, and blacks, and the red sons of the forest — in civilized, half civilized, and savage life; and yet, all that I ever saw converted after they had passed their fiftieth year, would make but a \ery small number, perhaps not more than a score or two out of many thousands. What a warning to the procrastinator ! How emphatically just and appropriate the language of the Bible, "Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth !" that my youthful reader may heed this precept ! I addressed another man, who seemed to be more needy than the rest. He conversed with me very freely. "My heart is a garden full of weeds and rank vegetation. I have cultivated the weeds only, while I have left the pure seed to be choked and exterminated." I directed him to the Savior. He told me that his besetting sin through life had been a continual carping at Chri.stians, until one deijree of offense after another had landed him in that dreadful place. April 29. To-day I visited the female department, where I found two women sick. Having talked with them before, 1 concluded to try another method with them this time. 1 r'»ad to them the fifth chapter of Matthew; then made a prayer; and concluded by explaining, in a familiar way. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 61 John V 6, throwing in several anecdotes to get their attention more completely to the main subject. But I had no great success. They were as obdurate as rocks. I have always observed that the female, who seems to have been made for tenderness, and piety, and moral courage, when really depraved and fallen, is not only the wickedest, but the most hard and unmanageable of beings. Going next to the cook-room, I there found a man, who had been trained to believe in fatalism as taught by some modern relisrionists. "Do you pray, sir?" said I. " No, sir," he replied. "Why not?" "Because the prayers of the wicked are an abomination to the Lord." Here the old story was again. How many thousands that cursed doctrine of unconditional election has sent to hell, no man can number. Is it not astonishing that any man in his senses should have ever taught it ? And now, when the world is learning better things, those very Churches from which this doctrine used to come as regu- larly as tlie succession of the Sabbaths, are beginning to deny that they ever did teach it ! But they should remem- ber, that there are some old men still living, who can recol- lect what tlie fathers of this generation w'ere in the habit of inculcating from the pulpit. Such seeds were sown, •with an unsparing hand, all over this continent, by the Calvinistic Churches. There are some yet alive, who were persecuted for preaching another doctrine ; who were laughed at as upstarts, because they could not comprehend the "great mystery of election;" and who fought their way to success, and even triumph, over the ashes of this mischievous system. You will see the relics of it now, in these more enlightened days, only occcasionally, and that generally in the mind of some fallen being, like the convict 62 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. here alluded to, who wishes to excuse his neglect of prac- tical religion. Soon afterward I met another man, whose early instruc- tion had been of a character similar to that of the one last named. His name is C. "Are you trying to serve God?" said I to him. "Yes," he answered; "I once enjoyed religion; but I do not now. My Church taught me, when a boy, 'once in grace, always in grace,' but I have lost all I ever had." " Then you have fallen from grace ? What, then, do you think of the old doctrine?" "Think! I do not think — I Icnow it is/aZst." I encouraged him to seek again of Him, who commanded his disciples to forgive their brethren till seventy times seven. He said he would ; and I left him. April 30. This day our new warden, Colonel Dewey reached the city. On seeing him, I found that I had been acquainted with his mother more than twenty-six years ago. I used to preach in his house, when Ohio was nearly a forest. The Colonel was then a boy. His father died when he was only ten years old. From that time he was educated by his mother ; and, after leaving her watchful care, he has made on alone. He has now acquired the reputation of an intelligent, honest, pious, faithful man, while his business character is of the highest grade. He says he owes every thing to his mother ; but as that has become a common saying, and very justly, no doubt, in thousands of instances, I will add, that the mother of oui warden was a remarkable woman. Her son is worthy of her name. May 1. This, reader, is the anniversary of my minis- terial life. Thirty-seven years ago, this day, I left ray wife, my child, my home and friends, to be a traveling preacher. You will pardon an old man for setting down a few data connecting with this long period of time. I MEMORIALS OF PKISON LITE. 63 have received thirty-seven appointments, and have been able, by the mercy of God, to fill every one of them. T have had twenty-three appointments to a district as pre- siding elder in my connection. I have also, by the favor of ray brethren, been returned a delegate to six General conferences of the Church ; and now I am here, a preacher of reconciliation to the spirits in prison, within the walls of the Ohio penitentiary. Mercy and goodness have followed me all my days; and my eyes have seen God's salvation. 6 64 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. CHAPTER VI. A beautiful morning — The Siibbath — An interesting service- Visit to my family — Call of an afflicted fatlier and mother — Mournful reminiscences — Return to my labor — A new proposi- tion — Heaven on earth — An expert old sailor — Attempt at er^cape — The hospital — A class meeting with the sick prisoners — The ora tors of this world — Triumph of the Christian orator. Tins week opens with one of the lovehest days that e", ei dawned on our green world. The sun's rays are clear, and warm, and mild. There is a soft breeze fanning the earth and woods. The waters look bright and beautiful. The birds are singing their sweetest songs on every tree. There is a quiet in the streets of the city — a quiet over all the adjacent country, that seems to hold sway among the very cattle of the field ; for I see no frisking among the herds, nor gamboling among the flocks; but the ox is silently grazing on the open plain, and the sheep are lying beneath the green tree's shade. Such a sight the inhabitant of Europe seldom sees. I could sit here, at my open window, and look out upon the lovely aspects of varied nature all day long. But no — it is Sabbath morning. Within the walls of this mighty prison there are hundreds of the wretched and the vile. They need the help of a helping hand. I must leave this pleasant landscape to others, while I go and give them aid. This day, (May 3,) the congregation was overflowing. God was in his word. Many hearts were made sad on account of sin; but, if they are given to God, they will be made to rejoice through righteousness. It was a season of general weeping. Monday, May 4. Early this morning I left my post to make a short visit to my family. Arriving on Tuesday, I found all well; and on the day following I was visited by the parents of two boys in prison. Reader, did you ever MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 65 see a parent under such circumstances? If not, it will be impossible to picture to you the grief these persons felt and manifested. See before you, if you can fancy well, the father, a well-dressed, genteel, good-looking man — a man holding a worthy place in society — once cheerful, prosperous, and happy — now broken in spirits, his eyes swollen with a years weeping, his face pale and emaciated from his suffering, rapidly going to a grave of sorrow, and all because his darling son has thrown an indelible disgrace upon his family. Look upon that loving mother, with her broken heart, her blanched cheek, her quivering hp, sinking rapidly to the earth, praying it to cover her quickly from the gaze of men, because he whom she bore has be- come so vile a wretch. These are the parents of one of the lads now in prison. They were once young. They formed their friendship under circumstances of cheering promise. They looked forward to long years of domestic happiness. They were joined in marriage while yet radi- ant with hope. This boy was born to them. He was the first pledge of their afiection — the darling of the house- hold — the idol of their hearts. As he grew up, how they doted on his expanding faculties! How they caught at the first word he tried to lisp ! How eagerly they sec- onded the efforts made by nature to open up the faculties of his little mind ! How they watched and nursed him in sickness! How they smiled upon and enjoyed him in the hour of health ! His first letter learned, his first book taken in hand, his first day at the village school, his first premium for good behavior, his first, and the follo^ving and final triumphs under the teacher's guardian eye — how all these swelled their joyous hearts! As he grew up toward manhood, what pictures of the respectability, of the talents, of the virtues, of the successes of their noble boy, rose up from time to time in their prospective view! But alas! alus ! The tempter came. The lad's heart was corrupted. 66 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. The bait was olTered and accepted. A thick clLAid, nevei lo be dissolved by this ■world's sun, settled down upon thai happy dwelling. The child was hurried away by the law officers to a gloomy prison ; and the heart-broken father and mother come here to inquire whether their son is well. sin, what ravages thou hast wrought! Why shall not every man who knows the curses it always brings, join his heart, and soul, and influence, to that glorious Gospel, whose design is to e.xpel it from the world? Friday. This day I returned to my work improved in health ; but I found many of the officers and convicts sick. On Saturday I resumed my pastoral labors, enjoying an interesting season with some eight or ten persons for whom 1 sent messages to meet me at what is called the watering- place, which is in the centre of the inner yard. I told them that I was not a spy sent there to keep the guards informed of their behavior. If any of them broke the rules of the prison, it w^as every one's duty to let the w'arden and keep- ers know it; but my only business was to teach them relig- ion, as an embassador of Christ. "Now," said I, "let us all agree to try one grand experiment which I have to pro- pose to you. Let us see whether it be a fact, that, by any means, we can make this prison happier than a palace to us. It is thought that the thing is possible ; and if so, what a fine thing it would be for us ! Only think of it," said I, as I warmed upon the subject, " to make ourselves just as happy in this gloomy prison as the w^ealthiest and freest man on earth, in magnificent apartments, surrounded by taste and fashion! If such a thing is practicable, wouldn't you all like much to know it ?" " Certainly," said my attentive auditory; and they seemed to mean all they said. " Well, then," I continued, " the experiment is a very simple and easy one. It consists in giving our hearts to God; in consecrating all we have — body, soul, spirit — ^to I MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 67 his service ; in seeking and obtaining the pardon of all our eins ; in being renewed in heart and life by the spirit of the eternal God; and in feeling within us a witness, clear and conclusive, that the past is forgiven, that the present is ac- cepted, that the future is in the keeping of u merciful and loving Father, whose pleasure is to bring us to inherit ever- lasting life at his right hand. That is all," said I, urgently. " Get this, and the little space within these walls Avill be a place of broad rivers and streams. God will then dwell within them; and where God is, there is heaven; and where heaven is, tliere must be joy. What think ye of the experiment?" They all seemed to catch the right idea, and promised to begin, from that moment, as I had counseled them. After dismissing this little meeting, I called for a fellow, an old sailor, whose case had recently become very in- terestinsf. He was a great climber. I once heard of a man who said he could climb a sunbeam. This seaman could come as near to such a feat as any one I ever met with ; and the history of a recent exploit here would go far to show it. Perhaps the reader never saw, and may never see, the chimney of our prison dry-house. If he should ever get a sight of it, he will at once perceive that it was no ordinary feat for a man to climb to the top of it, on the inside, and there remain, out of sight, bearing himself against its walls, from Saturday noon until Monday night. But such a feat this old sailor performed only a short time ago. He hoped to be able, by that means, to get over the wall ; but he was discovered by the guard, and recaptured. Poor fellow ! what will not a man do for liberty ? When this convict came to me, I talked with him freely on the subject of religion. He seemed much broken in spirits. He promised to try to be contented with his lot, to observe the rules of the prison, and to set out to make his way to heaven. I am not confident whether 68 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. he ■will fulfill his engagements, but it is right to try him. Going next to the hospital, I changed the order of busi- ness a httle. Instead of taking the helpless inmates singly and severally, I constituted them into a sort of class meeting, asking them questions, receiving their answeis, and giving them advice and consolation according to their circumstances. Perhaps it was the first meeting of the kind ever held within the walls of a state prison. It was an interesting, a melancholy, and yet, in one aspect, a glorious season. It threw a greater than ordinary solemnity over their minds. The conversations were altogether more im- pressive than usual. It was a scene of interest, certainly, to stand there, in the midst of that group of sick and dying — some lying on beds, some sitting up, supported by pillows, others seated in chairs — and behold the tears star* in their eyes, the color come to their blanched cheeks, and the light of hope play upon their pallid lips, as I spoke of the way of salvation, of the victories of redemption, and of the glorious realities of heaven. I have often thought that the great orators of antiquity, who, like Demosthenes and Cicero, by their powers of speech, could change the minds and resolutions of a mixed multitude — could move a senate or an assembly of the people, as a field of grain is moved by the passing wind — could rouse or settle a whole empire in a single harangue — must have experienced a high joy on such occasions; and so, undoubtedly, they did. But, reader, I think I can say, without presumption, that neither Demosthenes, nor Cicero, nor Burke, nor Cliatham, nor Patrick Henry, ever felt a loftier, wider, sublimer joy, in their proudest triumphs, than I have felt while God has given me the victory over the hearts and habits of such perverse beings as inhabit our state prison. Demosthenes gained his victories over the Athenians and other Greeks by falling in with their prejudices and passions: the minister ^f^P. ^ MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 69 of God, on the contrary, carries his point against these prejudices and passions. Cicero swayed the Roman senate by raising their indignation against their enemies : the her- ald of Christ rouses his audience to a most bitter self-con- demnation. Burke, and the other orators of modern times, 6\; ept every thing before them by presenting to their hearers manifest objects of visible, and tangible, and immediate ad- vantage : the embassador of the Gospel, on the other hand, offers but little or no physical profit, as God has not seen 6t to make any great and universal distinction between the good and the bad in worldly happiness. The present, in fact, which the preacher offers, is often made up of pain and misery : all his proffered rewards and pleasures are in the futui-e. They are not only invisible, but immaterial, mental, spiritual; just such as bad men least relish. And yet, reader, against all these disadvantages, he sometimes carries the day, causing a congregation of wretched sinners to tremble with emotion, to weep with penitence, to burst forth in self-reproaches, to extend forgiveness to every body but themselves, or to exult in the victories of a faith which reduces them to insisrnificance in order to do full honor to the glory of One whom, till the decisive m.oment, they had hated and scorned above all other beings. Such, reader, are the tiiimiphs of God's ministers; which, when they come, are always attributed to a power above them, and yet. witl' a joy, with a rapture, far above any thing ever ex- fvsrienced by Demosthenes or Cicero. Something of this rapture I felt this day, when talking to these poor sinners in the hospital, while their silence, their attention, their tears, I heir cries of agony, their shouts of victory, gave assurance that the word of God was having its effect among them. 10 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LITE. CHAPTER Vll " yriiy will ye die?" — A good time — Inveterate obduracy of the fcmaie convicts — An incident — The suffering of the innocent — An aged bigamist — A digression — Settlement of the Scioto valley — Early times — Death of a prisoner — Talk -with a son of pious pa- rents — Strange revelations — Bad company — Sabbath desecratio»j — Bar-keeping — Sound sense from a convict — Another case — A third man — Sliouting — Glorious scene — A man ready to die — Salvatio.i found — Confessions of an,-old criminal — Close of the week. At eleven o'clock of this day (May IV) I preached to the male prisoners and about two hundred citizens, who had come in to worship with us. My text was Ezek. xxxiii, 22 : " Why will ye die ?" The reader will at once perceive, that the sermons ad- dressed to such beings must differ much from those preached to the public generally. Prisoners are, in general, far below the average of their rjice in mental character, as well as in moral condition. They must be treated accordingly. Sim- ple subjects, presented in the plainest and most pointed manner, must be given them. The topic chosen for this occasion, for example, was divided thus: I. The death spoken of in the text. II. Reasons why men sJiould not die that death. III. The cause why men do die that death, 1 . Not because they were made to die ; 2. Not because they have sinned and now must die ; 3. But becau.se they do not "come to Clirist that .hey might have Hfe." The poor fellows seemed to be much moved under the presentation of this subject. Many tears were shed. In- deed, I am not certain whether there was one who did not weep, more or less. But tears are not always to be taken in proof of genuine and persevering penitence. They indi- cate present feelmg ; and this, often repeated, generally MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 7 I leads lo that tenderness of heart wliich results in true re- pentance and a holy life. In the afternoon I preached to the women, where every thing looks more doleful than in the male department. A woman when lost is lost entirely. I have found those here much worse, in every respect, than the men ; less open to conviction, less feeling, more hardened in their iniquity. Here is a wonder, a miracle, for the philosopher to unravel. After my second discourse was completed, and before I had left the room, a lad was let in from the other side to see his mother. It was their first meeting since their imprison- ment. They have been mentioned in a former chapter. No sooner did the boy show his face, than the mother sprang to her feet, ran to him, caught him about the neck, kissed him a thousand times, all the while showering him with her tears and shouting her thanks for the unexpected prinlega I am inclined to think that neither of them should ever have seen the inside of this gloomy prison. They both seem to deserve a better fate. How afflictiuo- for innocent men and women to be torn from their homes, as I believe they often are, by the malice of their neighbors, who bear false witness against them! I have not the shadow of a doubt that there are some, perhaps I may say many, in this peni- tentiary, who have been sent here by false testimony and the carelessness of juries. But such is life everywhere. The innocent often suffer for the crimes of the guilty. What a strong proof, that a day is needed, as we know one has been apyointed, in which all these cases of injustice shall be re- examined and requited I On my i-eturn to my own apartment I visited the cell of a very aged man, not the one mentioned before, who has passed his threescore years and ten. His head is as white as wool. Tn any other place, ho would look venerable indeed ; but hero, in this; gloomy place, with tlie taint of his miquity on him, he seom3 t) be the most n">iserable among 72 MEMORIAIS OF PRISON LIFE. the living. He is confined for bigamy. At an age when he ouglit to liave been looking out a place where he might make his grave, he abandoned his first wife, and hunted him up a second, if I remember correctly, in a short time. He lias a largo and respectable connection in the world. Some of his brothers stand high in public esteem. But le, wretched man ! has not only sinned deeply, but is little or not at all penitent for his sin. Such a case of hardened villany I have seldom seen. For a man to go thus boldly into vice, when the fire of youth is gone, when we expect to see the coolness and the philosophy of age taking the con- trol, is most remarkable ; but to see him, after he has had full time for reflection, and has suffered the severe penalty of his crime, still impliedly justifying himself by making no concessions, would seem incredible to every person unac- quainted with such a fact. And yet there are some who tell that man is not depraved ; that he is naturally quite orood at heart ; that his transgressions are generally trace- able to some sudden temptation ; that his conduct is nearly always that which he considers for the best! The reader may be pleased, this day, (Monday, May 18,) to make a short digression with me from the regular line of the narrative. I had been invited to attend a semi-centennial celebration of the settlement of the Scioto valley, at Chilli- cothe. It was to be a great time ; and I was anxious to be present. The meeting had been called by the oldest living inhabitants of the valley. The day was not chosen with chronological exactness ; for the first ploughing of the valley took place, not on the 18th, Vjut on the lOih of May, 1790, on what was th-^n called " Station prairie," below the village. There was then no white settlement nearer than Massec station, at the three islands, since called Manchester. The next nearest settle- ment was Wheeling, in Virginia, unless there might be a few sf|uatters, here and there, on the banks of the Ohio. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 78 The meeting was a grand one, and full of interest to us old people. There were some men, who, fifty years before, had pitched their tents in this -valley, then a howling wilder- ness. They were the very men who first broke the soil of the now vast, rich, populous state of Ohio. They were lliere in person. Many of them, to show us how they used to do it, hobbled alonff with their lonir walkincj-sticks ; but they made a bad foot of it. There were men in that large gathering who had known Oliio from the beginning — who could recount her entire history from personal recollection — who could trace every step she liad taken from infancy to greatness. When all were seated, several spirited addresses were made, after which the concourse adjourned to Colonel Medary's, wliere a grand dinner was served up to the old settlers and the friends who had come together to aid in the festivities. You may depend on it, reader, there were some great talkings on that occasion. There old men could not help telling how they used to fare in other times, when the coon, and the squirrel, and the bear, and the woody-headed deer, and other wild meat, constituted their chief livelihood. There were some stories told, I imagine, about hunting, and fishing, and sowing, and reaping, in places where the tracks of the red men were as much looked after as if they had been those of tigers or hyenas. The way the old people described their first log cabins, their earliest attempts at agriculture, the distances they went to get a little corn oi wheat ground, their school-houses and school-learning, then privations and sufterings in religious as well as worldly mat ters, and the fortitude and hope by which they bore up against a thousand almost forgotten discouragements, would now sound like romance to the neophytes of the present generation. When the world was all talked over, from Adam to Mala- chi, and from Malachi to Daniel Boone and his Indian hunt- ers, the blessings of Divine Providence were religiously 74 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE, invoked to remain upon the fatliers, and we parted, never to meet ajrain in this state of beinff. Reaching liorae on Friday, I proceeded directly to the hospital, where 1 learned a man was just then dying. He died soon after. He had been long afflicted in his head: but no one could imagine what ailed him. Somo had enter- tained doubts about his having been as bad as he had pre tended to be ; but all doubts were dissolved by a post mor tern examination. On opening his skull, it appeared that one lobe of his brain was entirely ossified ; and I state the case to show, that the officers of a prison should not be too prone to lay blame too readily on persons professing to be sick, whose disease does not show itself by the ordinary r-.yraptoms. It is a wonder how this man could have lived so long, though phrenologists may say, that there being one side of his head entirely sound, all the faculties of his mind were entire, though not unimpaired. As I was retiring from the room, a man, whom I shall call S., followed me to the door. Taking me aside, he told me who he was, and related to me the substance of his former life, in nearly the following words : " You are well acquainted with my father and mother, and with all my father's family. You will be surprised to hear me tell who they are. [He seemed much moved by the revelation, and, I confess, 1 was perfectly confounded.] You see, then, I was well educated, for the times and for the place where I lived. My parents were religious, ray mother being deeply pious, as you well know. I was veiy religiously brought up, every thing having been done for my morals that could bo done by the most attentive parents. Until I was quite o youth I never dreamed of doing any thing improper, having a hi'di sense of right and propriety firmly established in me. My first misstep was keeping bad company, when I knew what I was doing, through the idea that I Avas beyond being corrupted by it. The next step was the desecration MEMORIALS OF I'RISOX LIFE. 7S of the holy Sabbath, to wliich I was led by my companions, when my parents were at church. These two sins carried me into every other which I have since committed ; and I have committed nearly every sin known to the decalogue. 1 soon fell into the lowest pit of Avickedness. Abandoning home, I became a bar-keeper in a little, filthy 'doggery,' where my infamy was completed. Finding it necessary, for certain reasons, to fly the country, I attempted to raise money on a forged note, was detected, prosecuted, and sent to this place for five years. My parents, on hearing of my ruin and imprisonment, made every effort in their power to get me released, not knowing how unworthy their son was of the slightest exertion. They failed ; and it is well for me, for them, for the community, that they did ; for I should have gone out with a heart full of corruption — with a soul bent on revenue and mischief — with a determination to do every thing in my power to avenge myself for the inflicted punishment. But here I have been, you know how long. My sufterings of mind and body soon broke my wicked spirit. I began to reflect seriously on my past conduct. Conviction settled in my heart. I opened my mouth once more in prayer. I used the little pra3'ers my mother taught me in my infancy. But these, though suited to a little, innocent child, were not deep enough for a hardened, aban- doned, wretched sinner. Like the publican, I was com- pelled, at last, to cry aloud, * God, be merciful to me, a sinner.' Mercy came. Tlie cloud was lifted from my mind. Light broke in upon my benighted nature. Tlie waves of Gorrow and of sin ceased at the same time. Peace reigned on my spirit. I looked up and praised God, and have ever since been patient, grateful, and truly happ}'. I ask nothing now but for God to spare my life til! my time of imprisonment expires, that I may go out and show my father and mother how sorrowful I am for my past wicked- ness, and how much I can do to remove the burden I have 76 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. imposed upon them. Yes, may God let me live to be the life and stay of my poor, weeping, heart-broken parents! But the lesson I wish you to draw from my example, and which 1 hope you will freely spread upon the wings nf the wind, is, that that man, young or old, is unsafe, who trusts that he is beyond corruption — that he is too pure and strong for bad company to ruin him." Upon this man leaving me, I was followed by another, whom I used to know well, in his better days. I knew his father, and mother, and other relations. They were all good, substantial, pious people; but they have long since gone to the better land. The course of this man's wicked- ness began, also, in disobedience to his parents, which led to Sabbath-breaking, drinking, horse-stealing, and finally to the penitentiary. This is his second term at the state prison. Tlie first time he was pardoned out too soon. His friends did him a real injury. He was committed for ten years, seven of which have passed away. Poor fellow ! he is emaciated, sickly, broken down in spirits — the very shad- ow of the hale, sprightly, good-looking man I once knew him. He is earnestly seeking the salvation of his soul; and I doubt whether he will live to see the expiration of his sentence. To-day, while sitting in the bell-house, a prisoner, who was passing with a bucket of water, set down his bucket, and approached me, shouting, "Glory be to God, father finley ! I have found the Lord to be precious to my soul, since you began to preach to us Christ and him crucified. God has pardoned all my sins. Last night, while praying in my cell, God blessed me wonderfully. 0, 1 am now happy, hippy, hjppy ! I now feel as I never felt be- fore." "What," said I, "happy in a state prison! You must be beside yourself." "Well," said the fellow, "perhaps I am; but I hope I MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFK. 77 sliall never come to myself again, if this is being crazy. 0, I am so happy !" yes, thank God ! rehgion can make a palace of a prison. The man's whole manner was so genuine, so hearty, so evidently sincere, that I was confident he had found out the mvstery of salvation. The tears started from my eyjes, to see" a poor, pale, hard-working prisoner feel so happy. He was the first-fruit of my ministry in the prison — my first convert — my Timothy ; and I confess, prisoner as he was, criminal as he had been, I now loved him. I exhorted him much to hold on faithfully — to do every known duty — to omit nothing — to trust in God — to live, from that time, for holiness and heaven. Saturday, May 23. Going out into the yard, I sat down by the well to converse with the prisoners, as they came to draw water. Recalling the language of the Savior, I cried, with a loud and cheerful voice, " Whosoever will, let him come, and take of the water of hfe freely." The tears started in their eyes. Tliey flocked about me, as if there were a charm in the offers of salvation. The employers no doubt think, at least in some prisons, that the time of the poor prisoners could be more inofitahly spent in their work- shops. Very likely, so far as their pockets are concerned ; but I have no care about employers' pockets. They get enough out of these men, at any rate; and my business is to instruct them, in season and out of season, in the Avay to heaven, if there is not a dollar made out of their hard labor. It is a matter of no consequence to community, whether much or little money, or none at all, is made out of their labor ; but it is a thing of the highest moment to see that their morals are improved by sound religion — the only thing that will improve morals — before they mingle with the world again. So, here I kept them, talking with them about their souls, until I had gathered quite a congre- gation, to whom I preached Jesus and the resurrection. 78 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. I went next to the hospital, to see a man, whom I shall call W. He was very low. He covered himself with reproaches. With weeping eyes, he told me what a great sinner he had been, but thanked God that he had lived to hear the Gospel in a prison. Nowhere else, he said, would he have ever taken heed to it. He had once been, it is true, a professing Christian ; but the life and power of religion had long since left him. Within a few weeks he began to seek God again; "and now," said the poor man, raising his hands above him — "now, thank God ! 1 am a new creatui-e. Glory be to God, my sins are all forgiven ! My heart is full of comfort, and my hopes of heaven are tri- umphant !" Next I visited B. He, too, is a very sick man. He has been here but about a month. When he came, he Avas a hearty, stout, thick-set man, as rugged as an oak. Now, Jiis body is giving way to the wasting emotions of his mind. His life has been a very bad one ; but he says he has given himself to God, to serve him till he dies. He, like W., was once a professor of religion ; and he now hopes that God has pardoned and healed his backslidings. He is, certainly, a different man from what he was two weeks ago. After examining him thoroughly, I came to the conclusion, that his conversion, or reclamation, was genuine. His com- panions tell me, that he prayed nearly all the time, and that with great agony of spirit, for ten or fifteen daj's, until his mind apparently became tranquil, and he shouted aloud for joy. No sooner did I throw out a hint about his past life, than he exclaimed, " yes, it has been one tissue of rebellion and .sin against God. O, what pain my reflections give me! but, blessed be the name of the eteinal God! my sins are pardoned. I do not gue.ss so or hope so. I know it. 1 have the evidence in my heart. God now comforts me, or I should die. I thank you, father Finley, for preaching the Gospel to me. You have been the MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 79 instrument of my salvation. I hope I shall see you m a better world," In the state shop I found J., an ignorant man, who is here for life. He had heard me preach, many years before. He never had any rehgious training; and at sixty he did not know a letter of his mother tongue. But, since he became a prisoner, he has learned to read, so tliat he now peruses his Bible with no little ease. He told me that he had often had deep and powerful convictions of sin in his younger days ; but he had experienced nothing of the kind for a great number of years. He said he was without feeling, and de&ired me to Avarn all young people against stifling tlie operations of the Spirit in their youth. I asked him if he did not try to seek the Lord, and to obtain the pardon of his sins. He said he would be glad to do so, but that the door was shut. He had been so wicked, he said, that God would not, could not, forgive him. I began to quote God's promises, and repeated a score or two of passages to him. I told him that God had pardoned thieves, murderers, persecutors, blasphemers, and the worst of men generally. I pointed liim to the example of the dying Savior, who, on the cross, prayed for his murderers, some of whom were undoubtedly converted under the preacliing of St. Peter. "And now," said I, "if God can pardon and save the murderers of his only-begotten Son, how much more will he pardon and save you, if you seek him as you ouglit!" This touched something within him, which, he said, had never been touched before. I pro- ceeded to remove, by simple arguments, all his inlidcl objections; and he promised me he would commence seek- ing religion from that instant. He kept his word. I came next to a man who had lived a very abandoned life, according to his own account, till his imprisonment; and even after his continement, for several years, he had had no serious thoughts of religion. He came in before it 80 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. was tustomary to have a chaplain in tlie prison. He gave me a dismal account of the manner in which prisoners spent their time before they had any instruction in religion. The whole establishment, he said, was a vast school of vice The older and more wicked convicts made themselves the teachers of iniquity to tlie younger men and boys about them. Plans of escape, involving the murder of the guard, and a thousand things of that horrible nature, were all the time boiling in the hearts of the inmates. They had no fear of God before their eyes. He referred with great interest, however, to a single exception to his statement. He said that a certain gentleman, by the name of Cox, who spent a winter in Columbus as a representative in the Legislature, used to devote his Sabbaths to the prisoners. "Never," added the man, "had I felt as his words made me feel. He was not only an enlightened, but a very good man. It was through his instrumentality that my blind eyes were opened. I turned, with my whole heart, to God by his direction, and am now, I trust, in the Avay to heaven." He wished me to thank his benefactor in his behalf, should I ever see him. I take this mode of complying with the man's wishes ; and I would now say to every one, " Sow thy seed in the morning, and in the evening withhold not thy hand." Here is a sinner saved by a faithful servant of God, who, though employed in secular business, could not let his Sabbaths pass without laboring for the good of some one. May the world be speedily filled with such legislators ! I close this week with feelings of profound gratitude to my heavenly Father. Three men, under the blessinnr of God, have been converted from the error of their way, and filled with the triumphs of redeeming grace, since the last Sabbath. They are genuine conversions. I have been too long engaged in saving sinners to be easily deceived by hollow and mercenary pretensions. God has, of a truth. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE 81 oiade bare his arm within the walls of this gloomy prison ! may the work spread, till every soul here, guards and prisoners, shall bo happy in the Lord ! What a glorious place would this penitentiary of Ohio then be ! 82 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. CHAPTER VIII. The worst kind of infidelity — ^Visit from Rev. Mr. "Wheeler, missionary to the Indians beyond the Mississippi — Gross act of injustice of the American government — The great well in the prison yard — Sermon — A refreshing season — General Taylor's triumph over the Mexicans — A call at the blacksmith shop — A favorite son — Two points for reflection — Some statements for Church members — A phrenologist among the prisoners — Tali ■with a hypochondriac — Experience of a new convert The grind stone-turner — Publishing pardons — Shouting of a youth — Lettei from a mother to her son — I>etter from a son to his mother. This morning (Sabbath, May 24) I feel a burning desire to be entirely conformed to the will of God, that I may see the salvation of the Lord swelling like a flood through all these premises. In reading my usual lessons my mind was turned to the subject of Universalism. I consider this the worst form of infidelity. It is so fine for a sinner to imagine, that, after a life of transgression, he is as sure of heaven as an apostle. This error has crept into the prison. Nearly all the prisoners, in fact, have been infected with it while in their career of vice. Nothing else, they say, could have held them up in crime, at the risk of life every step they took, but the conviction, which they tried hard to entertain, that, after a life of stealing, house-breaking, rob- bing, plundering, and murder, they would certainly go up to sit down with the patriarchs in heaven ! 0, what a soul-damning error! It has mined millions of the human family ! At eight o'clock I went to the female department, and preached from Luke xviii, 42. The women were somewhat moved — rather more than I have yet seen them. A few of them wept bitterly. A gentleman called upon mc from the country, bringing word from my family. They are all well; and here let me Bay, that for forty-seven years God has spared me every MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 83 one of my household. We have never had a death among lis. My wife, daughter, eleven grandchildren, six great- grandchildren, all that God has given me, are still living. We have passed through cholera, fevers, and various epi- demics, in the country and in the city, but never one of us has been taken. May my offspring, even to the second and third generations, be yet a seed in the earth, to bring forth the pleasant fruits of righteousness ! I was also visited by Rev. Mr. Wheeler, missionary among the Wyandotts west of the Mississippi. With tliis tribe I once labored as a missionary; and they made me their chief. When my appointment from the Church was con- cluded I resigned the royal honor ; but I always hear from my tribe with feelings of gi-eat interest. Brother Wheeler brings good news from them ; but I wish to record a fact, which I would have go down to the latest generation, as an example of the injustice and dishonesty of the American government to these unfortunate and noble-hearted children of the forest. The government would not suffer these men to rest, day or night, till they had extorted, by threats and false promises, an engagement from them to remove to the west bank of the Mississippi. We were to pay them for their land its full value. The poor tribe consented, and gave their official signature to the agreement. The govern- ment sent the appraisers on, before the treaty was signed, to value the property of the red men. The estimate was fixed at one hundred and sixty thousand dollars. The Indians seemed satisfied, and gave up the possession of their land, and departed. Having got the Indians away, however, the government refused payment, and sent on another set of commissioners, who appraised the tract at only one half of the sum at first agreed upon; and that sum is all the Congress of the United States ever paid them. And now, reader, as you are an American, I wish you to lay it to heart, that a nation thus wanting in integrity 84 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. and honor to the weak will never prosper, if there is a God in heaven, till such abuse of power is repented of and for- given. We may flourish for a day ; but the hour of reckon- ing is coming, and fearful will that hour be. Let us repent in sackcloth and ashes, and it may be God will pardon us. I have no doubt that many of the calamities he has sent upon us are judgments for these and similar iniquities. On Monday morning I went again to the great well in the prison yard. The prisoners, seeing me there, knew what I was about to do, and came flocking to me from every quar- ter, bringing their Avater-buckets with them. I spoke to them from the words recorded in John iv, 13, 14: "Je- sus answered and said unto her, Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again : but whosoever drinketh of the water I shall give him shall never thirst; but tlie water I shall give him shall be in him a well of living Avater spring- ing up into eternal life." It was a scene Avorthy of a painter's pencil to see the poor fellows standing there in a ring about, with their buckets in their hands, listening to my discourse, while the tears were streaming down their pallid faces. After preaching I turned the order of the meeting and began to ask them questions. G. said, " Yesterday was a good day to my poor soul under the preaching of the Gos- pel." M. said, he believed that he had recently tasted of the water I had spoken of, and longed for more of it. Others wished me to pray for them, that they might be able to drink the water of life now and hereafter. It was a most refreshing season. Tuesday, 2Gth. This day was spent in visiting the sick. P. must shortly die; but he is all ready. In the evening news came that General Taylor had gained a decisive victory over the poor Mexicans. What a ringing of bells, firing of cannon, and blazing of bonfires, as if it was any great achievement for a herd of lions to scare and slaughter any MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 85 quantity of feeble and defenseless sheep, or as if it were any glory for men to bathe their hands in the blood of their weaker brethren ! Why not, rather, go and put on mourn- ing for the thousands of once happy mothers and children, whom this victory has changed into widows and orphans? Such is the infatuation of a wicked, and worldly, and per- verse generation. Wednesday was spent in the hospital with the sick and dying. After worship with the sick I went to the blacksmith shops, and conversed with several persons privately and pointedly. Among the number I found there was the youngest son of a minister of the Gospel, whom I had known in other years. His father, more than thirty years before, had been my fellow-laborer in the vineyard of the Lord. This was his favorite child ; and I greatly fear that, with all the piety, and judgment, and excellency of that man of God, the sin of parental indulgence had much to do in the work of ruinins: that son. But I forbear. It is a case of which I can speak much for the pain it gives me. When will parents learn that reproof, correction, even severity, is better than indulgence ? There are two facts in this case worthy of reflection: 1. This man was the youngest son; and I have noticed, for sixty years, that the youngest child of a large family is generally the sprightliest, the most intellectual, and yet the oftenest ruined by parental fondness. 2. He was the son of a clergyman — of a Methodist clergyman; and I am therefore induced to say a word respecting this class of men and of ihcir famihes. It is an English adage, that "the priest's children are the worst in the parish ;" and it cannot be de- nied, that there is frequently too much truth in the state- ment. But, reader, as a palliation to this reproach, I desire you to look at a few facts in this connection. Remember, m the first place, that the clergyman devotes his life, not to 86 MEMORIAI^ OF PRISON LIFE. his own family, but to Llie families about him. Remembei that, to execute his mission, a Methodist minister, in particu- lar, is compelled, as a general thing, to be absent from home from one-half to four-fifths of his whole time. Remember that, during this almost constant absence, the education of the children devolves entirely on the mother, who is often so plunged in poverty and domestic cares, that she is glad if she can get all her little ones safely and comfortably through each day, to say nothing of the higher kind of in- tellectual, and moral, and spiritual improvement. The children are therefore necessarily abandoned, more or less, to their own course of conduct. They thus run loose during childhood ; and when they come to the years of reflection they meet certain trials of tnind for which their life has not prepared them, and which I would gladly suppress, were silence the part of duty. But I feel bound to speak plainly. These poor children find, on reaching the age of thought, that they are the offspring of parents who have systemati- cally abandoned their own interests to serve a religious peo- ple ; that that people, with all their piety, and benevolence, and profusion, have not only sufl^ered their benefactors to live in want, but have seen the helpless famihes of these benefactors grow up unprovided for and uninstructed ; and that now, when they begin to look about them for a place among their fellow-beings, where they can hve with respecta- bility and usefulness, no one of those whom their parents for- sook all to serve, holds out the helping hand any the sooner for this momentous consideration. This, reader, with honor' able exceptions, is the general rule. These are the dis- heartening, if not the bitter reflections of the sons and daughters of many of our most amiable, and devoted, and successful ministers of the Gospel. Is it a wonder that they are stung to the heart ; that they are prone to consider all religion as mere pretension ; that they are tempted to regard a worldly life, however mercenary, not only as more reason- MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE 87 able, but especially as more profitable, than that of their duped and over-generous parents ? You may never have thought of the subject in this light before ; but, depend upon it, there is an evil here, concealed from the public eye in general, to which much of the apostasy complained of must be attributed. From the shops I proceeded to the female department, where I spent several hours in teaching the ignorant inmates to read and spell. This afternoon a man obtained admission into the prison who professes to be a phrenologist, and says he can tell the crimes for which the prisoners were committed by examin- ing their heads. Some of the poor fellows reluctantly sub- mitted ; and he made himself appear ridiculous. After he had laid himself open on all sides, I told him if he would just sit on the stool I would examine his head, and would tell him some things about himself that were not generally understood. He looked me in the eye a moment, turned red, and made his way somewhat in haste to the outside gate. That is all I will say of the fellow now. After the disappearance of the phrenologist, I went to see a man who is partially insane. His mania runs on his health. He thinks he is very sick, and that he will shortly die, when, in truth, he is quite stout. I had before con- versed with him about religion, but I could not make it Beem desirable in his eyes. To-day, however, with a faint hope in some way of benefiting the fellow, I took a new turn ifith him. " How are you to-day, my friend ?" said I to him. " 0, very bad — very bad, indeed, sir," the man replied. "You are quite sick, are you?" "Very sick, sir; cannot stand it long." "Would you not like to have me call a doctor for you?" " yes, indeed, sir, that is just what I have been want- ing this long time." 8 88 BiEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. "Well, but what kind of a doctor would you like to have?" "Ah, sir, I am sure one of the oldest kind, sir, would do oest for me, sir. These new ways o' doctoring, with little oird's-eye pills, and with water, and with steam, and all that, sir, I know nothing about, sir. Let me have a doctor of the old school, sir." "Very well, my friend, I have a physician in my mind, with whose skill I am somewhat acquainted, who has cured all manner of diseases. Fevers, and plagues, and hemor- rhages of A'arious kinds, he has healed almost or quite instantly. He is said, in fact, to have removed deafness, and blindness, and unloosed the tongues of dumb people. The report goes that he has even raised men from death ; and several facts of this nature are recorded of him, which are attested by numerous witnesses." "You don't say so!" "Yes, I do say so; and I say more, likewise. He is said to be as skillful in regulating men's minds, as in puttmg their bodies in perfect order. If you have any sort of dis- temper of soul, if some passion gets the preponderance, and you hardly know what to do with yourself, being so carried about by an impulse which your judgment condemns, he can just subdue it in a few moments, so that you become all quiet and self-manageable almost immediately." "Is it possible!" "Yes, it is possible, for I know it; and this is not all tliat is curious and wonderful about , this remarkable physi- cian. Whatever your disease is, or wherever located, he begins his treatment with the heart. He says the heart is every thing to one's health, as out of it are 'the issues of life;' and you know yourself, that, as every part of our system is grown and renovated out of the blood, so the blood comes entirely from the heart, making it, truly, the seat of health and sickness, of good and evil, to every ono MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 89 of US. Some doctors, you know, regard all maladies as proceeding from the liver; others, as coming from the skin ; others still, as resulting from a derangement of the nerves. But this physician looks upon every thing by ■which men suffer in this life any thing worth speaking of, as issuing from the heart; and, therefore, if the heart can be made right, all else will come right at last. What do you think of that?" "Why, sir, it is just my opinion. I should like much 10 see him." " Would you consult him if you knew where to find him, or if you could get him to visit you?" " Why, certainly ! Wliy not ?" " Would you do as he might tell you ?" "I would, most gladly. But are you certain he can do all that you have heard about him?" "I am certain." "How do you know?" "By his having cured me of every thing." "0, you do look well; and I should be glad to learn more about him, and to have him come and visit me. But what is his name, sir?" " That you can find in this little book, which is a book of advertisements, and cures, and so forth. (I handed him a small Testament.) You will find every thing you need to know about this great Physician in this small volume ; and when I see you again, I will hear from you what you think of it, and of his manner of doctoring sick people." The man took the book. He was a poor Catholic, and would hardly know the Bible from any other production by Its contents. I left him to ponder awhile over what I had told him. When I visited him again his eye was beaming with aoiimation. 90 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. "Well," said I, "my friend, how do you like the adver tisement of this great Physician ?" " He is great indeed, ah:" " You have found the call he makes upon all people. 1 think I have it here before me. Yes, here it is : ' Come \mto me all ye tliat are wearv and are heavv-laden, and J Avill give you rest.'" I then sat down and explained this passage to the poor fellow. 1. Who it is that calls us. 2. What is meant by coming. 3. What the Physician promises to do for us The man listened with breathless attention — not so much, perhaps, because I was preaching Christ to him, but be- cause I was talking of his favorite topic — health and sick- ness. We learn by this case, that not only the poor, the rich, the learned, the ignorant, and all similar classes of persons have a way of access to them, but that insanity itself has its handle by which to take hold of it. It often requires, however, greater skill than I am master of to lay hold of a disposition in the right manner. I called next on J., whom I have mentioned before as being an ardent seeker of religion. I found him swimming in tears. But his tears were no longer those of sorrow. He was OTerflowing with love, and peace, and joj'. God had pardoned his sins. "I am now," said the man, with great warmth of expression — " 1 am now happier than ever I was in all my life. This morning, after praying to my heavenly Father, in my cell, I took up the Hymn-Book, and fell upon a few verses that described my case exactly. I made a vigorous effort to let my soul melt, as it were, and flow along in the current of the hymn. In an instant I felt a change operating within. I looked up to God throiif/h Christ as I never had before, God, as he never had before, looked down on me. If I may say so, our eyes met. Mine were filled with penitence, prayer, and hope. His b'c-araed with love, mercy, and forgiveness. O MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 91 what a moment ! My heart leaped up within nie. I had power given me to beheve. I cast my whole case on God ; and from that instant I have been the happiest man on earth." Tliis was a clear conversion. I exhorted him to be faithful — to continue in prayer, in watching, and in faith, for the enemy of his soul was nigh. I had been desired to converse with a man who had been committed for murder, who Avas one of the hardest cases in the prison, and whom the officers could not easily manage. They wished me to try my hand with him. I hunted him up. He was at a grindstone, where he was kept, much of the time, sharpening tools. I found him gloomy, sullen, savage. I approached him with all the kindness of our merciful religion: "Well, ray friend," said I, "this is a pretty hard business." "Yes." "You have a great deal of time for thinking." "Yes." "Well, have you thought, among other things, how- merciful your heavenly Father has been to you, in sparing your life till this time, in giving you opportunity for calm reflection, in furnishing you with the promptings and en- lightening influence of his Holy Spirit, and in offering you redemption, pardon, peace, and heaven, through faith in the Redeemer?" " Not till very lately," " How lately ?" "Within a week or two past." "Have your reflections brought you to any practical conclusions as to what you will do?" "Only one." "What was that?" " Why, I came to the conclusion that I would be wilhng to serve God if I knew how ; but I knew not how, and I was so ignorant I felt ashamed to speak to you about it." 92 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. " But if you were ignorant, you were the very person that has a right to such light, of any body who is supposed to have it." " But I did not feel fit to speak to any gentleman." I went up to him, and, laying my arai around his neck, said, " My dear friend, you are the purchase of my Savior's blood. He bought you by his death on Calvary. He has commissioned me to come to you, and say to you, as I now do, that, though you have been a great sinner, as you well know, yet he loves you still ; that, if you repent of your sins and turn to God, he will have mercy on you and pardon you; and that, after all your past crimes and unhappiness, you shall be as white as wool, as pure as a child, as happy as it is possible for any mortal." At first he seemed much surprised to be so treated by one he had called a "gentleman." In a moment or two I saw the tears start in his eyes. He began to melt. I pressed his head, with my arm still about his neck, close to my own bosom. He there wept freely, crying like a child. He was a conquered man a long time before I left. He has given no one any trouble since ; but commenced im- mediately to seek that religion which he had so long neglected. The reader may like to know how prisoners act when they are pardoned out of prison. Two men were pardoned out this morning. It is a very good practice of this institution, that the publishment of pardons to the persons interested is frequently put into the hands of the chaplain. This throws a new glory around his character. It causes him to be looked to by the poor convicts as indeed the minister of mercy. With writs of pardon for the two persons referred to I sought them out, and began conversation about religion. One was at his work ; the other was on a bed of sickness. No language of mine can paint the joy that came into the coiuitenance of the former when I read him his dismissal from MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 98 the work at which he was engaged — from the silence and con- straint of the prison discipline — from the black walls of that gloomy penitentiary. His eye sparkled in a moment. His face beamed with almost an unearthly brightness. His tongue was unloosed. His soul swelled out with a con- sciousness of freedom. He was once more a man. He knew it; he felt it; and he seemed not to know exactly what to do witli himself. I found the other one on his bed of lanfjuishinff. I asked him how he felt. He said he was no better, but, rather, growing weaker every day. He thought he could not live long unless a turn should come to him. I had but little to say to him about crime, and sin, and repentance, for I believed him to be an innocent man, sent to prison by false witnesses. He was also a good man, prayerful and religious ; so I had little to do but to prepare his mind for the sudden change about to happen in his circumstances. I talked of adversity, then of prosperity, comparing their respective advantages and dangers — of the temptations, particularly, to which we are liable when all things go well with us — of the uses to be made of good fortune, especially when it comes suddenly upon us. The poor fellow looked as if he thought my long and particular homily had very little to do with his situation ; but when I stated to him the chief object of my visit, he raised right up in bed, seemed lost for a moment, then, coming to realize bis blessing, he gave such a shout as made every invalid start around him. The reader has never heard any thing like it except at some old-fashioned Methodist camp meeting; and, by the way, young converts are sometimes laughed at for shouting ; but if a man will raise his voice thus when let out of prison-, how will a sinner, when he is emancipated as suddenly from sin, from all its present guilt and future consequences, lift up bis praises to Him who has delivered him! 94' MEMORIALS OF PRISON' LIFE. Last Sabbath a prisoner, as he went out of church, said to me that his time would be out on the next Saturday, and that he wished to liave a conversation with me before he left. To-day I called on liim. He has been only very recently convicted of his sins. He has been praying and seeking religion for several days, but has not found peace with God in believing. I gave him a sort of epitome of the plan of salvation, exhorted him affectionately, but fer- vently, to hold to his work of repentance until God should save him from his sins, and read to him a great many of the most encouraging promisefi of the Gospel. He said he did not wish to leave prison until he should be converted, and desired to know if I thought the officers would allow him to remain, at least over the coming Sabbath, that he might hear me preach once more before he took his depart- ure. I told him they probably would, if he wished to stay, but that he might hear the Gospel out of prison as well as in it. He replied that it would sound better and more natural to him there, and asked me to obtain the desired privilege for him. Promising to do so, and encour- acring him to keep on praying and seeking, I left him ; and now, reader, do you know of any thing which could make that doleful penitentiary look inviting to a convict but religion ? You may have thought, too, that many of the cases I have related were pretended by the persons interested, in order to get their release from imprisonment in a profession of amendment; but, though such cases often happen, those 1 have given you are not of that character; and this man's sincerity is a fair specimen of the sincerity of all 1 hn\e presented to you. The doubtful specimens I have not reported. As I went to my apartment, late in the evening, weary, but thankful for the first-fruits of my labors, I was told of a young man, who had been under conviction for some days, and who was this day brought into Uberty. He MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 96 raised his voice while all alone, and shouted with great animation. The guard came to him, and told him, as usual, that he was crazy. Another, however, who understood his case more perfectly, came and spoke kindly to him. The young man had been confined to his cell with indisposition ; but he now said he Avas well, and wanted to go to work. The guard last mentioned told him that he was not yet able ; that he was too weak ; but that he should be per- mitted to go, as soon as it would be prudent. Ah, yes ! when the soul is healed, the body partakes much of its purity, and health, and happiness. It must not be supposed, by the reader, that all inter- course is cut off, in every case, between com-icts and their relatives, by the afflicting event that separates them. Let- ters are constantly passing and repassing between them. The following is a specimen of this kind of correspondence. It is extracted from a letter from a mother to her son in prison : "July 12, 1846. "Once more, my dear child, I take my pen to address you ; and my prayer to almighty God is, that it may be the last time I shall be compelled to wi-ite to you in your pres- ent position of misery and disgrace. Yes, William, I hope that, by the assistance of kind Heaven and your friends, you will be shortly restored to your disconsolate and broken- hearted mother. 0, what would I not sacrifice, to have you, my dear son, once more with me ! Will you not. a.s soon as you are free, come home to your father's house, like the prodigal of old ? There is room here, and plenty. You are yet Avelcome to it all. And more than this, I trust you will feel that there is mercy in store for you in heaven. Jesus, my child, is still able and willing to save you. William, think of your never-dying soul! Arise, and go to Jesus. What are all the pleasiu-es, what all the pomp, what the wealth and pride of this gay and wicked 9 96 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. world, compared with the blessings God has to bestow even on you, my dear son! You have your sorrows. At an early period of life — 0, all too early ! — you have drank of the sweetened cup of sin ; but you have foimd its dregs to be bitter to the soul. Will you not now lead a new life? Have you not seen enough of the folly and Avickedness of bin? 0, my son, when you come out — nay, before you come out — now, while you read this, from your mother » hand, resolve to abandon all your sinful practices and wicked associates. Renounce tliem all at once, and fly to the outstretched arms of Jesus. lie will heul all your sorrows, pardon all your sins, and raise you again from the depths into which you have fallen. My poor heart my William, my once gentle little boy, has broken. 0, is it possible? Have I, once a happy mother — have I, who rejoiced to hear you lisp in infancy — have I, whose heart swelled with maternal pride to see your young form grow, and your mind expand — have I lived to see that son a prisoner? 0, my child ! yes, ray child — nourished at my breast — raised up under my eye, at my side. O William, I must believe that you yet have some regard, some natural love, some filial feeling, for your deeply-afflicted mother; and this encourages me to hope, that, for her sake, if not for higher reasons, you will try to do better in after life. I am, untD death, my dear William, " Your mother, ." The following is a letter addressed by a son, in the prison, to his mother. The young man once had religion; but he forsook God, and God forsook hvm ; and now he ii m conflnement, wearing the striped clothes of a state convict : " Ohio Penitentiary, May 29, 184G. "My Dear Mother, — Scarcely do I know how to address you in a manner suitably to express the mingled feelings I experience at this time and in this place. Language is MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 97 certainly inadequate, with my feeble powers, to perform the mournful task now before me. Low as I have fallen, by reason of crime, bringing dishonor upon myself, inflicting disgrace on my relatives and friends, and, especially, in wounding so deeply my mother's tender heart, yet, of all my sins against my God, the sin of disobedience to my good parents seems just now to have the most venomous sting and the deepest guilt. It is true, mother, I have fallen before temptation, forgetful of parental counsels, and es- pecially forgetful of your ever kind, but too much slighted instructions. These counsels and instructions, I now see and feel, would have conducted me along the bright and peaceful path of life and honor. They would have shielded me entirely from the misfortunes that have overtaken me; and now, though on a bed of languishing, and pain, and deep distress of mind, perhaps I ought to rejoice that God has taken this mild way — mild, compared with my deserts — of recalling me to himself. I had gone far astray from him; and he forsook me, and left me to wander in the forbidden paths of sin, though not without sending me frequent strinngs of his Spirit. Ambition, covetousness, the inordinate love of the world, had taken full possession of me ; and there is no knowing to what farther crimes I might have gone, had not God arrested me, in this manner, in my mad career. By this humiliating punishment I have been brought again, thank God ! to the Savior's feet, where true peace and happiness are found. I feel, dear mother, great reason to be thankful that God has been thus merciful to me, a poor and erring sinner, who have so long trans- gressed his laws and disregarded his warnings. mother, will you believe such a son, Avhen he tells you, that he confidently believes, notwithstanding all these great sins, that, in answer to a Savior's love and a mother's prayers, G o J has at last snatched me as a brand from the burning, wliile just ready for eternal death ? But, I thank God, it is even so. 98 MEMORIALS OF PRISON UFE. " I have been in the hospital about two weeks, I have suffered much bodily pain; but the sweet consciousness that, through the atoning blood of a crucified Redeemer, my sins have all been forgiven, and my soul delivered from its weiglit of guilt, and my whole being made at peace with God, has helped me wonderfully, in this afflicted hour. ] feel, nevertheless, a sort of presentiment that I shall never recover. I wish I could see you once more before I die. How can I die without seeing, once more, the face of my mother? All other friends I resign; but I cannot, dear mother, give up the hope of seeing you, before they lay me in the prisoner's cold and neglected grave. They treat me kindly. The patients are as well taken care of, in this hospital, as they can be. There is nothing lacking but the countenances of sympathizing friends. There is noth- ing wanting to make me happy but the presence, for one hour, ay, for half that time, of my tender-hearted mother. Father Finley is our chaplain. He treats us like a father. He preaches to the prisoners every Sabbath. He comes to see the sick several times every day. He has been very kind to me. He always speaks some words of comfort to me. He labors faithfully with the prisoners, to improve and elevate their moral and religious character. His exer- tions have been greatly blessed of God, Give my love to all my friends and relatives. Ask them to forgive me the injury I have done them. Ask them to pray, that the grace of God, in Christ Jesus, may still support me, that, should we never meet on earth, we may meet in heaven, But let me hope that 7n7/ mother, abused and injured as she has been and is, will not leave her son, how much soever fallen, to languish here without seeing her, but will come and give one more sweet look, one more kiss — yes, a forgiv- ing kiss — before he dies ! " Your disgraced and afflicted son, J, P." MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 99 CHAPTER IX Female departinent — Continued hardness — The chapel — Trip to Chillicotlie — Colonel Dewey — A great mistake — A good library wanted — Effect of solitary confinement — A glorious spectacle — A great croaker — Note from a prisoner requesting instruction — Com- mitment of a doctor — An insane invalid — Story of a lunatic — Bpecimen of wit — Another poor fellow — A third — Mournful narra- tive — Complaints and compliments — A fourth case of insanity — Long imprisonments again — Pardons by the governor not good policy — An attempt at suicide — A lunatic discharged — Reform needed — Recruits for the Mexican war. At eight o'clock tliis morning (May 31) I preached to the females in prison; and there appeared to be some prospect of a work of grace among them. But no one, without experience, can tell the obduracy of the female heart when hardened and lost in sin. As woman falls from a higher point of perfection, so she sinks to a profounder depth of misery than man. At eleven I preached in the chapel. There was a large attendance; and most of the convicts seemed to take a deep interest in the word preached. Monday and Tuesday of this week I spent in Chillicothe. When I returned, I found Col. Dewey, our new warden, fairly installed in his office. From the reputation he brings with him, and from every demonstration he has given of his character, we are all highly pleased with hira. He ficems to be just the man for us. He is mild in manner, but firm in principles ; and his word is respected as much as his spirit is admired. After having made a pretty thorough examination of every thing connected with this institution, I am satisfied that there has been one important mistake made by those who have had charge of the moral culture of the prisoners. There has been but little or nothinc: done to enlighten and ^imploy the intellects of the convicts. All efforts have 100 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. begun and ended Avith what is directly religious. This I call a mistake, because the intellectual faculties play a mo- mentous part in the moral reformation of a fallen human being. I do not say, that education, intellectually consid- ered, is of itself capable of working a moral reformation: no one of close observation, or of clear judgment, "will maintain such a proposition ; but that the moral part can be pow(?rfully addressed, and greatly swayed, through the mental, no man can deny, while some would think, that every thing done must get to the soul through the intel- lectual channel. Setting aside, however, all the metaphysics in the case, facts make it certain, that intellectual culture has much to do in forming and governing the heart, and that good books are the chief means of that sort of culture, whether in the family, school, or prison. We want here, tlierefore, a good library of books, which the prisoners can take with them to their cells. They all tell me, that, could they endure it physically to labor all the time, night and day, it would be preferable to being shut up in the cells for the night, with nothing on earth to think of but the gloomy walls. I am convinced that, with a store of good books, which should be calculated to interest the under- standing and improve the heart, the poor convict could go to his confinement with a better prospect of getting im- provement, than to go there into a perfect blank. The mind, like the body, must have something to live on ; and if, as an old Greek philosopher once said, "words are the food of the soul," books are made up of words. But there is another consideration. It is well known that the ultimate tendency of the loss of liberty is derangement or alienation of the mind. This comes, I think, from a constant, gloomy, disheartening course of reflection on the darker side oi life, into the darkest shade of which they see themselves to be deeply plunged. Now, while a suitable degree of this kind of retrospection is not onlv useful, but absolutely MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 101 essential to the reformation of a wicked man, the habit can be carried altogether too far. When meditation becomes morbid, nothing is better for it — nothing, certainly, within the reach of a state prisoner — than entertaining, amusing, instructive books. These, I am confident, ought to be scattered abundantly through every prison in the land. Prompted by these and similar views, I began the founda- tion of a library by circulating a subscription book for that purpose among my pei'sonal friends. The result of this first effort was the receipt of over two hundred volumes of choice works. A small room was appropriated for their reception. I kept the whole thing a secret from the prison- ers until the books had been received, sorted, and arranged on shelves. Then, on an appointed time, I let them all know at once, that we had procured a library for their special use, that the works could be drawn by them in per- son, and that the hour of getting them had come. Dear reader, you have seen things, no doubt, that pleased you — that did your heart good ; but, if I am not mistaken, I never beheld such a scene as now appeared. I could think of nothing else than of a regiment of starving men, before whom a richly-loaded table should suddenly rise up, as by enchantment, and the word should be pronounced, "Now help yourselves!" Never before did I see such a rush of enger men ! I sometimes find a case with which it is necessary to deal with some spirit. I was, this day, for example, sent for to Tisit a prisoner of fine education, of strong mind, of a good family, but whose disposition was of the sourest kind. He complained of every thing, and of every body, but himself. Nothing in the world was right. He spoke with such haughtiness, with such severity, with such a supercilious flout, that I sat before him in absolute surprise. I per- ceived, however, that he wished to impress me with a sense of his importance; and so, if I had any thing to do for 102 MEMUUIALS OF PRISON LIFE. him, I must do it in t^ome special way. I listened to him patiently till he had finished all he had to say, and even longer; for I wished to give him full time to grind out his grist. My silence soon began to impress him more pro- foundly than his long speech had me. He looked amazed at my saying nothing. I at last observed : " I fear, sir, that I can do you no good ; for, while every body is wrong, and you are always right, I think there is very little hope of your getting any benefit from God or man. Besides, sir, aa you have complaints lodged against every bodj', high and low, it will give you business enough for the rest of your life to attend to them and see them through, leaving you no time to hear any thing from mc. Should you, however, ever get them all settled, and desire to see me in relation to yourself, send for me and I will come." The fellow looked crest-fallen ; but I thought it best to leave him for awhile To-day I received the following note from a prisoner : "Mr. Fixley, — I have been inclined to infidelity all mj life. About a year since I obtained the perusal of Nelson on Infidelity, which I read carefully througli. ' One cause of infidelity,' says the author, 'is ignorance of the evidences in favor of revealed religion.' Now, dear sir, I wish to be furnished with something farther on this subject. My mind is not entirely satisfied. If you can, without too much trouble, furnish me with Jennings, Faber, or Keith, or all of them, all of which arc quoted by Nelson — or any other works on tlie same topic which you may have — you wiD very much oblige a sincere inquirer. " Yours, (No. 56,) L." This evening there w;u> admitted a very genteel-looking man, a physician, committed for a rape. lie has been a man of good standing and of extensive practice. It will be a. great contrast to him to exchange a large mansion for a prisoner's cell; his gay clothing for a suit of stripe; his cheerful fireside, where his wife and children used to cluster, MEMORIALS OF PHISOK LIFK. 103 for the associations of tliis place. I watched him to see how he would be affected by the first appearances and impressions. He struggled hard to keep up a firm and cheerful countenance. His muscles seemed to be all set and braced ; but when they took his hand-cuffs oflF, to lead hire to his lonely cell, his respiration became short, his lip quivered, and, next moment, the gathered and pent flood burst forth. Poor man, how I pitied him ! His crime, however, is an awful one, and it has overtaken him at last. No sooner did the grated door close upon him, than I fixed a resolution to give him an early call, and try to do him good. How much he now needs a friend; and how happy it will make his wife feel, if she still loves him, to learn that here, in this terrible place, her fallen husband found a friend to lead him back again to the right and peaceful way ! Thursday, June 4. This morning I arose at half-past three o'clock, to read, meditate, and pray. Before breakfast I went into the hospital to comfort the sick. There I found two insane men. One of them took me aside, as he does every body else Avho visits him. He is a great annoyance to visitors ; but I silenced him very shortly. He wa§ telling me, in his incoherent way, that somebody was after him to do him some great harm. "Well, then," said I, "you had better go and hide in some sly place in the room, and say nothing, so that he cannot find you if he comes this way." He took my advice, seemingly Avith a high opinion of my wisdom; and he has never given us much trouble since. He is determined, he says, not to be found out. We have several lunatics in the penitentiary, some of whose cases are very amusing; others would afford much instruction to a philosopher, Avho should study carefully their forms of insanity. One of them has, certainly, a great deal of "method in his madness." I called on him the other day, when he gave me a long account of his past life, the summing up of which is this : " I began life as 104 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. happily as any body. At a proper age I married a wife, with whom I Uved twenty-one years before I discovered her to be a witch. I then learned that she was a witch, and that she had been trying to poison me ; but God was on my side, for I experienced the fulfillment of his promise as re- corded in Mark xvi, 18, 'And if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them.' This, sir — this knowledge of the character of my wife, led to my imprisonment. It would have been better had I never come to this knowledge. In this, certainly, as the poet says, ' Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wi.se.' " In this way he proceeded for a long time; but I was es- pecially astonished to hear him quote Scripture, not only fluently and copiously, but correctly; and the application he made of it to his own case was always pertinent or witty, and sometimes learned. A specimen of the witty applica- tion of Scripture to himself, considering that he was a crazy man, he gave me as soon as I had set foot within his cell. He was kept shelling corn for the use of the bakery ; and this had been his only business for a very long time. "Yes," said he with emphasis, as I .stepped into his little room, "here I am at the old business. My work is like the Almighty's — 'from everlasting to everlasting.' " I cautioned him against making such use of Scripture; but he consid- ered it exactly suitable to his case. Wliilc I was passing the shoe-sliop another of these pooi fellows came to me in great haste and said : " I understand, sir, they are going to dismiss me before my time is out; but don't you let them do it, f(.r I will not go." I told him 1 would see to his case, and that they should not turn him Hway. So he returned to his work again peaceably. A third came to me in the yard. This unfortunate luna- tic has been here over twenty years ; and I have no doubt that he was insane when he committed the crime for which be was committed. His history is this: he had been a MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFB. 106 drinking man for some years. He and another fellow were diinking, on a certain occasion, at one of those devil's re- cruiting offices — a grog-shop. When much intoxicated, they both left the doggery, and Avent about a quarter of a mile, where they lay down to sleep. The one now here on waking Grst tried in vain to rouse his companion, and becoming angry rose up and struck him with a large pike, or stake, vhich happened to be lying near him. The man died in- stantly. The murderer then rifled his pockets of a five and of a ten dollar bill, and immediately staggered his way back again to the rum-shop. On trying to pass his bills for liquor, he was told that they were counterfeit. " Then," said he, "I wouldn't have killed the rascal if I had known they were bad money." He went on and told the whole story of the murder ; and he was finally tried and sentenced on his own confession, though he manifested signs of insanity during the entire trial. Since he has been in prison he has been kept at some manual labor; but he is now quite peaceable. He thinks, however, that the state owes him for a great amount of labor. He said to me, as I saw him to-day, speaking with much excitement: "I want you to see to my business. I can trust you. They owe me a Leap of money ; and I am sure they mean to cheat me out of it. I helped to build this prison and all its rascally walls ; and now they will not settle with me for my honest labor. I have worked hard for many toilsome years, and have nothing for it ; and, sir, I shall not stand this kind of treat- ment any longer." He now began to rage. " My friend," said I to him, mildly, "stop a moment. There is one part of all this which you do not seem to understand. They fear, should they settle up with you, that you would quit work and leave them ; and this would never do, and they know it. They couldn't get along very well without you. There is nobody here that can make as good mortar as you can ; and what would they do, when the prison should need 106 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. rebuilding or repairing? No one here can match you, either, in plastering. So you see, my good sir, that they have some policy aboard in not settling with you." He smiled for the compliment, all of which he thought he much deserved, and was excessively pleased with himself. "Ah, honey," said he, " you are right— you are right. They couldn't get along very well without me ; and so I think, for their sakes, I must stick to it a little longer." This seemed to pacify him ; for I heard no more of his complaints from that time onward. Another man ran to me from the wood-yard, as I was walking by, and said : " Sir, this whole establishment would have buiTied down had it not been for me; for, on seeing it taking fire, I ran and got my Bible, and, falling down on my knees, I asked God to put the fire out. And he did, sir; for in a few minutes he sent a shower of rain that com- pletely drenched it." I will relate no more cases of insanity at present ; but I am well satisfied, that a new policy ought to be pursued, in our courts of justice, in respect to long imprisonments. Though some of the persons here represented were of un- sound mind prior to their commitment, yet it cannot be denied that a long-continued loss of liberty tends to produce an aberration of the intellectual foculties. I could bring many proofs of the fact from the cells of this state prison, were that step necessary to strengthen my opinion. Be- sides, I have yet to learn that protracted imprisonment is favorable to reformation. When a man goes into confine- ment with the expectation of regaining his freedom in no great term of years, he has some motive, some ambition, to reform himself and prepare for his change of fortune, while the punishment he does suffer has all the effect of deterring from future crime which a longer period would have. But put a man in for the space of ten, fifteen, or twenty years, which cover and consume the flower of his days, leaving MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFK. 107 him for liberty only the useless remnant of his life, and he either sinks into irrecoverable melancholy, or falls to the slowest pit of self-abandonment and wickedness. While fear is a passion which justice may legitimately play upon, hope, on the other hand, is never given up to despair, while mercy has any thing to do in the work of human reformation. With this limitation of the time of imprisonment, I would couple the provision, that no pardons should be granted except where the innocence of the convict should be estab- lished by satisfactory evidence. The hope of pardon, so freely indulged by every prisoner in the country, keeps up a constant excitement in our penitentiaries, urges the prisoners to the practice of a great deal of false pretension, and oper- ates as a constant check on the good offices of religion. The chaplain, and the officers also, never know, in some cases, how to distinguish sincerity from deception ; for these men, often practiced in dissimulation, are under a constant tempta- tion to make false appearances ; and sometimes their skill baffles every effort at detection. If there were no pardons, we should always know the real characters of those we have to deal with ; and our efforts in their behalf would, conse- quently, be so much the more judicious and successful. A poor fellow, only this morning, attempted to hang him- self. I went immediately to him. "Why, ray dear sir," said I to him, "did you think of committing self-murder?" " There is reason enough, sir," said he. "What reason do you offer?" " Why, sir, is not all the world against me ? Has it not shut me up here for nearly my whole lifetime ? What will five or ten years at most be worth to an old and decrepit man, should I ever live to see so many days after the expi- ration of my long commitment? No, sir. I would rather die than live." " Are you not kindly treated by the warden and officers?" 108 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. " Yes ; but I am a prisoner, and that for the best part of my life — the only part worth having." " Do you think your life hereafter, provided you go to it by self-murder, will be any more tolerable ? Will the fiends of hell treat you any better than you are now treated ? For you must remember, my friend, that if you die by your own hand, there is no hope of your ever reaching heaven. The seal will then be set to your eternal ruin." "What, then, would you have a wretch do, who look* forward to nothing better in this world than a life of impris- ment, and a death of ignominy?" " If he cannot alter the life of imprisonment, I would have him look forward to a death of happiness, of triumph, of heavenly glory." "How?" "By repentance toward God and by faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ. Religion, my friend, can make you happy, cheerful, buoyant — at all events, peaceful — even in this gloomy prison. It has done this for others. It can do it equally for you. And, finally, when you are called to go to your last account, whether in or out of the penitentiary, you may go with a joyful hope of spending an age in heaven, which, compared with the short period of your pres- ent suffering, will be like the ocean to a dew-drop. Think not, then, my friend, of exchanging worlds so unadvisedly — of going from bad to what is infinitely worse — of forfeiting all chance of eternal happiness — of plunging yourself into everlasting and irretrievable destruction." This had the desired effect upon the man's conscience, or fears, or hopes ; for he has never made any attempts to com- mit suicide since this conversation. Friday, June 5. On this day the time of another convict has expired ; but he has long ago become very much de- ranged. He has been liere seven years ; and when he was informed that his time was out, he denied it, saying that we MEMORIALS OF PRISON LtFE. 109 only wished to cheat and injure him. He utterly refus(^d to go to the wardrobe for a change of clothing. He said they would shoot him if he attempted to make his escape that way. The warden finally indulged his distemper by allow- ing him to dress in the yard ; and then he would not stir an inch toward i\\e hall of entrance. We took him through the big wooden gate by compulsion. The warden gave him some money and some tools. I walked out with him quite a distance, speaking kindly to him all the way, as I had done before, in view of his release from confinement. I would liave willingly accompanied the poor man farther; but this I could not do consistently. I followed him, however, with my eye, as far as I could see him, to see how he would con- duct himself. He started off on a half run ; then he stopped and looked back toward the prison ; for his insanity took the form of a delusion that some one was constantly pursuing him. The last thing he said to me was a promise that he would not kill any one if he could help himself without it. He is an unhappy, an unfortunate, and a dangerous man. He never should have been turned loose, in this manner, on a peaceable community. But there was no help for it. The government of Ohio has made no provision for such cases. The warden cannot keep them. He has no authority to recommend them to the lunatic asylum, where they prop- eny belong. Many are annually turned out of prison just a.^^ unprepared for society, just as helpless, just as dangerous to community, as this fellow. Why is there no arrangement made by which, as soon as they show evident signs of de- rangement, they can be transferred, even before the expira- tion of their term of commitment, to proper guardians ? Particularly, why should we be compelled to let them loose upon the world, when we know that no man's life is safe in their track, when they have lost all power of self-govern- ment? I call the authorities of Ohio, and of other states, ^o make a serious examination of this subject. 110 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE, Saturday, June 6. This morning I learned that one of our number, a lad lately released, had enlisted for Mexico, instead of going home to his parents as he had promised me. The city is filled with these recruits, who are drinking, and swearing, and rioting in every lane and alley, as if they were just from Pandemonium. They are' a fair sample of the majority of those engaged in this unholy crusade against a helpless nation ; and their masters, from the highest to the lowest, have shown themselves to be just fit for the wicked work of extending, by war and bloodshed, the area of hu- man slavery. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. Ill CHAPTER X. The oabbatli — A look over the country — Two sermons — An ap peal — Bishop Morris and Professor Merrick — The progress of iriq'-iity — Deism — An effort to reason — Atheism absurd — Fine- spun sopliistry — Prompt confessions — A strong mind — The ward- en — Contributions for a library — Insanity and solitary confinement again — Gloomy reflections — Two considerations — New fare — Mush and molasses — Oeneral gratitude — A word from Shakspeare — The omnipotence of love. As I arose this morning (June 7) I was impressed with che quiet of tlie day which reigned on every side ; for not only the inmates of the penitentiary, but the inhabitants of the city, are, in general, faithful observers of this sacred time. Look, however, over the state, over the Mississippi valley, over our great country, nay, over all of so-called Christian countries, and what a vast amount of Sabbath desecration will be found! I have before shown, in the example of several now here in prison, that many, perhaps I might say most, of all the unhappy men sent to this gloomy place, began their course of wickedness and crime by breaking the holy Sabbath. To say nothing of Chris- tianity, if we wish to see crime lessened in our state and country, every good citizen must exert himself in behalf of the observance of the Sabbath. It is strange, in fact, that our citizens do not more generally see this fact, and ftct accordingly. For every rail- car kept in action, for every stage-coach in motion, for every factory maintained in business, for every store or grocery left open, for every particle of Sabbath desecration, in every form, great and small, the community, men of good habits, have to pay most dearly. We not only have to tax ourselves to btiild ind keep up jails and other prisons, but we suffer an incal- culable damage in the corruption of public morals. If we >urs€lves escape contamination, our children are thrown 10 112 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. into a great vortex of depravity and ruin. As I sit here, this morning, and look over, in fancy, our wide-spread coun- try, calling up before me the bustle and business of a thousand noisy towns, and of scores of immense cities, where the day is but little if it all rescarded as it should be, I am appalled ; and I behold hundreds, thousands, of those now in good repute, Avcnding their way along toward this and other penitentiaries, tlirough the single crime of Sabbath desecration. May a better spirit soon rise up among us and pervade the minds of all classes ! At eight o'clock to-day I preached to the women from Ephesians v, 15, 16; and at eleven o'clock I addressed the men from Hebrews ii, 3. It was a season of profit, I thought, on each occasion ; and after the second service, as soon as tlie citizens had retired, I made a brief lecture to the prisoners on the necessity of giving perfect obedi- ence to the discipline of the institution. "How degrading," said I, "for a man to be called up for some unnecessary misbehavior, to be showered, to be whipped, to be pun- islied corporeally in any form, as we would punish an unruly beast ! Man is a reasonable being. He has noble faculties. He is nearly allied to the heavenly angels. His thought — how quick, how deep, how wide, how high ! His heart — how full of all Godlike impulses, whep 'in its better and proper state ! His conscience — what a rescript, what a representative, of the divine law of eternal right — what a copy of the mind of God! Look at his origin, his rela- tions, and his destiny! He is born, it is true, in great hf.lplessness and insignificance; but then he is the handi- work of God ! His sphere of action seems to be very limited ; but then he stands, every moment, related to the highest beings in heaven and on earth, besides being the head of the world in which he lives! His life is but a span, and when he dies he seems to go with the brute to the earth from which he sprang ; but there is yet another MEMORIALS OF PRISOK LIFE. 118 part, untouched by death, which is to survive the tomb, and live, and grow, and enjoy, while eternity itself endures. Will you, then, such noble beings, suffer yourselves to be used like cattle — like angry dogs — to be stripped, beaten, showered, whipped? Will you svffcr yourselves, I say, to be thus treated ? for no one Avill so treat yoii, unless you prepare the way, and make it necessary. There are persons now here, who have remained here more than seven long years without receiving a single blow, a single reprimand, or a single word. If all will live as they have lived, there will be heard, within the walls of this prison, not a solitary syllable of rqiroof. Why will you not all imitate them? Remember you are men, and we wish to treat you as men; and the way to be thus treated is, for each one of you to he men." This is a specimen of the influence a chaplain is expected to exert over his charge, in maintaining order; and I kno-'-', from personal experience, that, with a suitable degree of energy and wisdom, he can do more than all the guards employed in our largest state prisons. This day I was visited by Bishop Morris and Professor Merrick. We first Avent to the female department. The good Bishop prayed in his usually feeling, and solemn, and affectionate manner. While we were passing among the prisoners, I received a communication from one of them, giving an account of his commencement and progress in crime. I have no doubt that every word of it is true ; and I will record it, for the benefit of young men. May they read it, and shun the path here marked out ! " I was born in the state of M., in the town of B. In my youth, even from my cradle, I was taught the principles of the Christian religion; and, in early life, my mind was thoroughly imbued witli its blessed truths. A few years later I was left an orphan, by which event I was thrown upon the world, without a master or a guide. I soon fell into dissolute company, and partook of all their sins. With 114 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. scarcely a reflection upon what I was doing for myself, 1 became a drinker of ardent spirits ; and the terrible habit was soon fixed upon me. My character became notorious. I knew it, and felt it; but I had gone too far to return by my own strength. My means of support were soon ex- hausted ; and I found it absolutely impossible to maintain myself, without either changing my course, redeeming my character, and so recovering some access to public confi- dcnce, or by plunging into crime, and living by making depredations upon other people. While in this state of meditation, my early training had a powerful influence on me. More than once I resolved to make a thorous:h refor- mation, and begin life anew; but the Avicked world, and my own habits and associations, were at length too strong for me. The doctrines of that sort of infidelity, known as Deism, were recommended to me. I became a listener, then a reader, then quite a student, for one of my character, of these damnable principles. During all this struggle against my early education, conscience would sometimes assert itself — my mother's voice and prayers would echo in my ears — the sweet scenes of innocent childhood Avould rise up, like pictures of a lost paradise, before me. These influences at length overcame my Deism, but in a most mournful manner. 'If there is a God,' said I to myself, ' then he is supreme, and I am accountable to him for my conduct. But I am not accountable, every thing being necessary ; and so the notion that there is a God is a mere fiction.' Still, when I looked abroad on the works of nature, as 1 called them, I was forced to the conclusion that there must be a first cause of all things; and this first cause must be almighty, as it had brought every thing into being. It must have been eternal, or it never could have had existence. If eternal, then it was uncreated, and therefore immortal. That it was intelligent, was evident enough from the compli- cated and yet harmonious plan of the great universe, in MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. lib wliich all see not only design but fitness in every component object. As there was intelligence, so there was also good- ness ; for on all sides we perceived that the relations, opera- tions, and functions of all bodies had been appointed with a view to happiness. There seemed equal tokens, though not quite so obvious, of a moral element in this great first cause; for, though virtue was not always happy, and though vice was not always miserable, they were generally rewarded according to their characters; and I thought I could see, too, below the outside of life, in the region where the inward and not the outward part of man has its peculiar sphere of action, a still more general consistency in this particular. Indeed, I could not say certainly that the consistency Avas not absolutely perfect ; and I therefore concluded, could I see all things at a single glance, it might evidently be proved to be so. Atheism, consequently, could not be possible; and as Deism made me accountable, I was thrown into all the tortures of conscience from which I had struggled to free myself. But I was too far degraded and lost in sin, to go directly to the Avork of spiritual restoration. My wicked habits continued. My associates still clung around me. At last, as a final resort, I went to hear a Universalist, who preached some of the doctrines to which my reason and early education had held me. He said there was a God ; that man is accountable; that we are all transgressors against the moral government of God ; but that Christ had died, and thereby made an unconditional restoration or redemption of the whole human family from sin and degra- dation. His argument was ingenious. He said, either God would save all men, but could not, which would be a denial of his omnipotence, or he could do it, but would not, which would be an impeachment of his goodness ; or he neither could save us, nor would, if he could, which would make him a most miserable and imbecile monster. This sophism captivated me entirely. I did not see how it 116 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. would apply to other things around me. Had I only donB 60, I should have been saved from much crime and misery. My reason now, in its clearer moments, makes the applica- tion, in the following simple manner: if God can save us from jyreserit unhappiness, and will not, he is not good; if he cannot, but would, he is not almighty ; if he neither can, nor would, if he could, he is just as bad as the argument of the Universalist made liim. The reasoning is totally unsound ; but I did not then see it. My understanding was carried away; my heart was blinded; my conscience was seared ; and I fell to my old habits, and into deeper iniqui- ties, without fear, and with a new relish. 'If all my sins cannot damn me, I will run the risk of the present life, surely,' said I, instantly; 'and as I may as well make a wholesale operation of my business, I need not stick at trifles.' I need say no more. You know the rest. I will only add, that it was not the vigilance, the art, or the skill of officers that brought me to justice. It was God. He followed me with his rod, when his goodness was no longer eflfectual. My sentence to this prison has been a blessing to me. I have had time to reflect, to read the Bible, and, like the prodigal son, to come to myself again. Many have thought that my sorrows have come from my imprisonment. This is not the case ; for my present condition is the hap- piest I have seen for the past ten years. My pride and ambition, by which I was often and finally held back from repentance, have been humbled. 1 have again, thank God ! found the way to a better world. I have here nothing to stimulate my unholy passions. We all live on the same food, wear the same clothes, sleep in the same kind of beds, and get the same wages for our labor. There is no distinc- tion, no anxiety about to-morrow, no fear of getting turned out of our employment. We have no harsh treatment. We have good advice and kind instruction. Above all, we Ixave the iJiblc; we have our Sabbaths; we have faithful MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 117 preaching ; wc have many useful books for general perusal ; we have a good Sabbath school; we have every blessing peculiar to the Christian religion ! We are taught to wor- ship God. We are told that this is the way to happiness and heaven. My prayer is, not that I may get released from prison, but that I may be enabled to make a wise im- provement of my present glorious privileges, and ultimately find my way to glory. "Yours, D." I am certain that the intelligent reader will regard this as an able document to be drawn up by a convict in a state's prison ; and I must observe, that I have followed strictly the ideas and generally the words of the paper handed me, making only some corrections of a grammatical and rhetorical character. The substance of the piece is from the prison- er's own handwriting:. That he is a clear-headed man is very evident. His early discipline must have been more than usual. But all the influences of education, of home, of parental example and instruction, did not save him from this ruin. Reader, look about you, and see whether your case is more certain, if you meddle with a temptation to stray ever so little from the paths of rectitude. Tuesday, June 9. There has been no punishment for a breach of rule this week. Wednesday, June 10. Our warden has given us, to-day, ample demonstration of his mildness, firmness, and general capacity for the arduous duties resting on him. He is just the man for us. Thursday, June 11. This day I raised about one hundred dollars among the contractors in the prison for the prisoners* library. This will add a new impulse to this department of instruction and improvement. Friday, June 12. I never have felt more impressed with the fact, that the melancholy and insanity so prevalent in this prison are owing to a want of proper mental occupation. 118 MEMOKIALS OF PRISON LIFE. by the use of good and interesting books, than I was to-day while visiting the convicts. Remember, reader, that these prisoners are men and women who have lost the confidence and respect of the pubhc ; that tliey are perfectly sensible of their loss ; that they are separated from all family ties ; tliat they can look forward to nothing Avhicli is calculated to flatter and buoy up the heart; and, therefore, that their sole resource is, to get as much consolation out of the pres- ent as possible, and that entirely by themselves. This solitary feeling, this sense of their exclusion from all the world, is the wormwood of the soul. They have ceased to be social beings. Not having it in their power to hold in- tercourse with the public, they are forbidden all conversation among themselves. Under this condition, the warm feelings of the heart, which they once may have had, arc gradually frozen up. The eye loses its lustre. Companionship has no charms. Friendship no balm. \n the voice of love there is no melody ; and in the hand of charity there is no kind- ness. What, to such men, arc the beauties of nature, the bright hues that deck the skies, the majesty of the moving clouds, or the sun pouring his new-born glories upon the dewy earth ? What all other charms that have escaped the mortal curse, preserving some memory of the Eden from which men fell ? Nature may tune her thousand harps and bid them sound upon the convict's ear. She may unfold before him scenes that would make the proudest artist blush. She may cause the rose to spring up in his gloomy path, and send sweet-singing birds to carol their hymns (f rejoicing on the tree that shades his grated window from the sun's rude blaze. But what are all these things to him? To him, sunlight is shade, and joy is sorrow, and flowers are as piercing thoms. All is vain, empty, dreary, dismal, unto him. His mind, his heart, his soul, his whole being, cut off from every outward association, is preying on itselfl The chameleon, it is true, borrows its hues from ai SB < b O MEMORIALS OF PRISON UFE. 119 s^uirounding objects — from the leaf or twig on which it sits. But tlie mind is not thus passive. It is the active principle in nature. Instead of deriving its morals exclusively from things without, it has the power of transferring its own sen- timents, its loves, and hopes, and joys, to the world around. Particularly is this true of that mind, whose sympathies with society, with men and things, has been severed. Its only resource is in itself. Whatever you can impart directly to Such a mind will do it good; and this direct influence can be exerted particularly but in two ways. 1. By conver- sation, which it is possible to continue to a great length, or to repeat so often as to leave no aching void in the experi- ence of a melancholy, brooding, disheartened man. 2. By books, which are the more serviceable, because they can be his constant companions from day to day without wealing upon his patience, which, while they represent their respect- ive authors speaking their best thoughts in their best man- ner, are entirely at the beck of the poor, unfortimate being who implores their aid. I would repeat, therefore, most emphatically, my fonner recommendation to all prison socie- ties, to legislatures, and to all concerned in the welfare of this degraded class of men, to supply to ev^ery penitentiarj^ a well-selected library of standard, miscellaneous, amusing, and instructive books. Saturday, June 13. Yesterday the warden ordered a cliange to be made in the suppers of the convicts. This meal had before consisted of a piece of corn bread and a cup of water. It was now to consist of mush and molasses. i need not say, to those acquainted with well-conducted prisons, that such food as is given the inmates is always of the very best quality ; but really, with this consideration, and witli all the appetite produced by hard labor, a dry crust of coarse bread with Avater is not a feast. This morning I passed my time entirely with the prisoners. Nothing was talked of but their change of diet. Never were a set of 120 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. men more grateful. They covered the warden with their heart-felt praises. This single act has given him a seat in their aflfections from which scarcely any thing could move him. I really believe these poor fellows would fight for him against the world, right or wrong, until they had spilled every drop of their blood for him. This shows, reader, the power of kindness. It is a weapon by which you can con- quer your worst enemy. " Didst thou but know the inly touch of love, Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow, As seek to quench the fire of love." And the poor prisoners have often felt, toward him who hai treated them affectionately, what another poet has expressed: " Sweet as refreshing dews, or summer showers. To the long-parching thirst of drooping flowers, Grateful as fanning gales to fainting swains. And soft as trickling balm to bleeding pains, Are thy kind words." Love is the Archimedean lover by which Christianity is to move the world ! » O > < m H u !> 5? O u MEMORIALS OF VKISOJS' LIFE. 121 CHAPTER XI A useless practice dropped — Great attendance of visitors — Preacliers of universal joy — Commitment for manslaughter — First hour in prison — A pass tlirougli the shops — Happy experience — An incident — Miserable law— Call at the tailors' shop — Dialogue •with a Catholic — An unfortunate young German — A man par- doned — A barbarous custom — The "warden — An anecdote — A quo- tation from Dr. Upham — A veteran scoundrel — The young German converted — A prisoner leaving — Return of guard and convict from Cincinnati — Close of the week. Another britiht Sabbath raoruino; has dawned ou the world. At eight o'clock, while the people of the city are taking their late breakfasts, or lounging in the seats of idle- ness, with a minority making preparation for the worship of God and the instructions of his house, I go to the depart- ment where a group of fallen, abandoned, desolate-looking women are waiting to listen, but with no great eagerness, to the words of everlastinnr life. At eleven o'clock I preached to the men, and had a Pres- byterian minister to assist me. After sermon I made them a speech of congratulation on their good behavior for the week previous. They had conducted themselves with un- usual decorum. Every one beheld an improvement amount- 'melow the cuts. ■f- The wliipping must have hecn severe; for the marks of it still remain, in coarse ridges, in his skin. J I saw the marks of the shot. The .shoulder was dreadfullj mangled, and nearly torn off MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 1*79 u'ceiiiHii ; and if I had known, I had been deprived of all (jower of making an honest living. So now, as my last end liul resling-place, you see me here." Such, reader, are the beauties of slavery ! Tliis is that venerable, patriarchal system, which soutlicrn Christians, and southern doctors of divinity, and the professed followers and admirers of John Calvin and of John Wesley, and the dis- ciples of the meek and lowly Jesus in the south, defend at the hazard of every thing dear on eartli. They not only quote the Bible in defense of it, but have rent friendships, split Churches, and endangered the stability of the great republic, to maintain a system whose natural results are faintly exhibited in the example just given. Yes, reader, I may well say, faintly exhibited ; for, from personal knowl- edge, I know the practice of slavery in the southern states to be full of cases tenfold worse than this. As John Wesley has said, "It is the vilest," considering the circumstances, " that ever saw the sun !" And yet southern Methodists, vfho have rent the Methodist Episcopal Church for the single purpose of maintaining the practice of holding slaves among tlie preachers and members of the connection, profess to be not only legitimate sons of Wesley, but the only people in this country who have maintained his doctrines, and discipline, and spirit Avithout a fault ! Good God ! Where are the consciences, where is the common sense of these misguided men ! July 29. Last night the prison was disturbed by one of the inmates, an insane man, whose history is a fit illustra- tion of the bad effects of a single vice, or bad principle, when all the rest of the character mav be riijht. This wretched man was the son of good and wealthy parents. who lived and moved in the highest circles of society. They gave him a good education ; and in early manhood he mar- ried into one of the best families in the county where he lived. His morals were pure, his reputation unimpeachable, 16 180 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. and his conjugal life dawned like a morning in the flowery month of May. With his own outfit added to that of his beautiful and charming wife, he retired to a very rich and Jovely section of Ohio, and settled upon a farm. Friends rose up to welcome and gladden him on every side. No scene in the pastoral poets could be found to surpass the neatness, the taste, the order, the tranquility of his rural home. His little white cottage, seated on a small elevation of the deep- est green, and covered with all the bloom and beauty of our climate, was noticed by every one who passed along that way. In a few years he had a little group of bright and lovely little children to meet him wlien he returned from town or field. They overwhelmed him with their prattle, some hanging at his fingers, others climbing up his sides; and he repaid them with showers of kisses, as if they had been blossoms falling from his flowering heart. His wife met him at the door with a graver but deeper love, unless, in envy of her younger days, she too frolicked to meet him like a joyous girl. Such was his life for many years ; but a change came upon him after all. Beneath all that wealth of beauty, of happiness, of love, one dangerous passion lurked unseen. It was an inordinate love of money. On his frequent visits to his little market town, where he went to exchange his produce for other comforts and necessaries of life, he had made a pretty extensive acquaintance with business men. Some of them were patterns of honesty and lionor, like himself; but there were others, as in all such towns, Avho wished to live, not by honest labor, but out of the labor of other men. They were speculators. Knowing that (his thrifty farmer had both property and credit, they laid many schemes before him from time to time, by which they said a great and sudden fortune could be made. The bait was at last but too successful. A company was organ- ized to enter into a speculation in flour. His farm and credit, much against the prayers and entreaties of his wife. MEMORIALS OF PIUSON LIFE. 181 and against the sober advice of his best friends, were staked on the uncertain throw. The die was cast; and lo! hke too many others, to him it proved a bUmk, though his partners still flaunted in their wealth and pride, probably at his expense. He was stripped of all he had. He was turned out from his little cottage home. His wife, true to her heart's love, followed him into the depths of his poverty, bringing her children with her. She made prodigious, al- most superhuman exertions to make the best of their altered condition ; but the struggle was too hard. Her husband had become discouraged. Not knowing, like many other men, how to begin the world without a dollar, with all the little resolution left to him he could not tell the first step to be taken in such a case. His discouragement settled at last into despondency ; but his wife rose still higher in her efforts to redeem or save him from his fall. He saw his poverty too forcibly, in spite of all her exertions to conceal it from his view. The raggedness of his children, his empty table, his straitened purse, the deafening cry of creditors, the threats of sheriffs and other officers of the law, could not be put aside. To drown his sorrows, alas ! alas ! he finally resorted to the fatal cup ! The deed was now done. He became a Avretched drunkard. The spirits of his noble wife sank to rise no more. His children became worse than common beggars. He, to get away from so much domestic misery, at last joined a band of robbers, and soon after, with the loss of his reason, found his resting-place in one of these gloomy cells. He is now the most awfully-miserable and wretched being I ever knew. His family — God only knows where they are ; but one thing is certain : this man was not contented with enough. He was greedy for sudden o-ains. He hasted to make himself rich, and has pierced himself, and lovely wife, and once amiable children, througli and through with thorns. Reader, beware that you travel not the same dangerous road ! 182 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. The following letter was luinded me to-day to examine be- fore it was to be mailed. It is touching ; and one poniou of It must remind the reader of the exhortations he sometimes liears from a faithful pulpit, when the minister portrays the sonows and remorse of those who perish in their sins. May it be a warnino- to the careless in relation to the affairs of this world and of the Avorld to come ! " Ohio Prison, June 29, 184G. "My Dear Brother, — I have not time to write you much, but I cannot longer refrain sending you a few hasty lines. Although I am incarcerated in a prison, and have been very wicked for many years, and have forfeited all claims of friendship on my relations by the disgrace I. have brought upon them, I have yet not lost my natural affection for you, my dear brother, and hope you have not thro\yn me entirely away. It would give me great pleasure to know that I have still any sort of place in your affections. The remembrance of our youthful days, of our early childhood, still rushes on my recollection — when we were happy to- gether under the paternal roof — when we were employed in the sweet pastimes of innocent childhood. But, 0, those days of innocence are gone — gone, never, never to return ! O, it is painful to me in the extreme to think that I have ffjllowed them by such a wicked life, which has brought me to such a place, and given such unmerited disgrace and pain to my kind-hearted friends. There will be one joy left mc from the wreck of my past days, if I have not utterly hcvered all the ties which once so happily boimd our two hearts together. 0, my brother, if tears could wash away a sin, an evil, a disgrace, all had been washed away long ago. If you can find a heart to rejoice at any thing which may happen to such a wretch as I am, it will be, I think, to liear, if you can any longer believe my word, that I resolved, Bome time since, on leading an entirely different life. I see to my sorrow that the wny of the transgressor is truly hard. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 183 I lj;i\ e resolved to forsake every known sin. This, I find, is my only safe way. Any other v?ill be dangerous for such a one as I. I must cleave to God, my only Savior ; and what IS best of all, my dear brother, if I am not myself mistaken, I have already found that Friend who will not leave me nor forsake me, unless I first leave him. Will you believe me, my brother, that my mind is noAV at rest. My sin-divided heart has found a resting-place in Jesus Christ. I hope, my dear brother, if you will not revolt at receiving an exhorta- tion from such a one — I hope, I say, that you have not been forgetful of this great matter; that you are preparing to meet God, the judge of all the earth. Though you are so much better than I have been, yet religion is necessary also for you. Let us try to live for a future state; and if we never meet in this life, let us try to meet in heaven. We have many means of grace in this prison. We have the Bible, besides many other good books, a good Sabbath school, family prayer every morning at the breakfast table, and a good sermon every Sabbath from our worthy and venerable chaplain, father Finley. Should God spare me, my brother, to get out of this prison, I trust I shall lead a very different life. Pray for your unworthy brother, and write soon. S." July 30. Two prisoners were brought in yesterday, one for ten years, the other for six. The former is a young man of only twenty years of age. He has a wife and child. His relatives are nearly all members of a Christian Church. He was once himself a member ; but he neglected his religious duties, gave up secret prayer, and soon lost all sense of the presence of God. His is the life of a backslider ; and his course has been quickly run. Others, who move more slowly, take a longer time, but often end at the same place at last. Let such beware how they trifle with solemn pro- fessions and sacred things. The other was an older, a wickeder, and a more hardened man. 184 MEMORIALS OF PRISOX LIFE. July 31 . This morning I went to converse with a prisoner at tlie instance of one of our judges of court. The man has been here eiglit years. His crime was robbing the mail. As an effort was on foot for obtaining his pardon, the judge wished me to examine into and report his case. His histor}- I found to be briefly this : In early life he married a young lady, who, he says, had another lover, whom she would not entirely abandon. The young man used to visit his house under suspicious circumstances. The husband then proposed to his wife that they should remove to another place. She refused. Tliis refusal confirmed him in liis worst suspicions, and he consequently abandoned her. Turn- ing himself loose again upon the world, after this cruel mis- fortune, he soon formed bad habits and bad connections. At length a proposal was made by some of his companions to go and rob the mail, and he consented. They succeeded but he was captured and tried, and sentenced for ten years. He has been a very orderly and obedient prisoner, with one exception. Taking occasion of a prisoner's leaving, he forged a petition for his release, which the said prisoner was to lodge for him in the post-oflSce. The plan by which it was to be carried out was quite ingenious. They made a false bottom to the box in which the prisoner was to pack his effects. Laying the petition in upon the first bottom, they laid the other bottom over it, and nailed them together. All was safe, until just before the departure of the convict, when one of the accomplices, fearing detection and punisli- ment, betrayed his trust and revealed the trick. Since then, ad before, this man lias been in every way obedient ; and aa he has a widowed mother entirely dependent on him for her livelihood, he was this day released, after having spent eight long years within these gloomy walls. A dear exploit was that when he robbed the mail. I will close the record of this week by gi^^ng the reader thfi copv of a letter written by a woman confined in this MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 185 prison to her husband in the penitentiary of Indiana. What an awful picture these following lines disclose ! "Ohio Penitentiary, July 29, 1846. "My Dear and Beloved Husband, — I received your letter, written through the warden of the Indiana prison, which gave me to know that you are alive and well. 1 cannot express the satisfaction I felt to think that you had not forgotten our little children, though I had begun to think that you had forgotten your unfortunate wife. I am well ; but, 0, what must I say about our little ones, that are scattered — we know not where ! My heart bleeds, while my eyes flow with tears. I have tried to find out where they are. When I was arrested my sister had the charge of them ; but not being able to support them, I sup- pose she had to put them out. Two of them, I have learned, were sent to the orphan asylum; but our daughter was bound out by the overseers of the poor. I was arrested on the third of May and lay in jail until August, when I had my trial, and was sentenced for three years. My mother died the day I was sentenced; and my sister says that my poor old father cannot long survive the stroke. that I could see him, and throw myself at his feet and ask his pardon ! It might be some comfort to him ; for I have no doubt my mother's death was caused by my misfor- tunes ; and now my dear old father's gray hairs must go down in sorrow to the grave ! 0, will my God and my parents forgive me, a poor, broken-hearted sinner! I want to see you. I want, how much! to see our children. My dear husband, will you excuse me for not writino- to you sooner? My apology is that I thought you had sor- rows enough of your own, without being doubly weighed down with mine. You may have cast me off; but I thank God you are spared, and that you will soon be at liberty to look after our more than orphaned children. I should rejoice to be spared, also, to see you all once more together. 186 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. Then, 1 think, I could suffer to be cast off or to die. I am not without comfort. Although in prison, I have a kind warden; and we also have a fine, fatherly minister, who preaches to us every Sabbatli. I have been treated with the utmost kindness since I have been here. Let me again say, I hope I shall be spared to see you again face to face. " Your wife, L." There, reader, can you find a parallel to that picture, in the history of this sin-cursed and miserable world ? If so, I hope there may not be many such appalling examples of depravity, within even the ruined and blighted family of man. I MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 187 CHAPTER XVI. Sabbath stillness — Two sermons by Rev. Dr. Elliott — A time of power — Letter from a daughter to her mother — The beginning and the end of sin — Another case of disobedience to parents — Letter from a youth to an old friend — Bad company — Admonition — An only son — Letter from a convict to a friend in the country — Visit to the hospital — A sin-sick soul — Dialogue — Religious experience — Departure of a convict youth — Parting gift — A happy man — Another discharged convict — An unparalleled case. Another beautiful Sabbath morning has dawned upon us. The sky is serene and mellow. The dew is settled on every leaf and blade of grass. The sun is rising like an armed man to run his race. The heat of the day will be almost overpowering. The fields are either shorn of their crops or are standing ready for the harvest. O that the same might be said of the field which God has given me to cultivate ! The Rev. Dr. Elliott, editor of the Western Christian Advocate, and author of a celebrated work on Romanism, visited me to-day. At eight o'clock he preached, with great propriety and poAver, to the women. It was interest- ing to see how they were amazed at the power of that powerful man. They hardly knew what to say of him, such was the masterly strength with which he handled his subject, such was his fervor of speech, and such the entlui- siasm he manifested in their behalf. At eleven o'clock the Doctor preached in the chapel to the men, where he was still more powerful, more warm, more animated in thought and manner of delivery. He was honored by the presence of Judges M'Lean and Leavitt, who were deeply interested in his sermon. I have lived to see and know, personally and familiarly, a great many able men ; but my friend, Dr, Elliott, in some respects, surpasses all the great men I ever knew. Manv are more finished, others more beautiful, IT 188 MKMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. some more learned, though but a few ; but for native strength of intellect, for abstract force and power, I never saw his match. He builds with strong materials. Neither hay, wood, nor stubble is employed by him. Hardly can I say tliat he uses gold or silver. He works, rather, with solid granite. His fabrics are all built up of rock and mortar. When one is completed, though it may not be as highly polished as the work of some others, it is solid and massive, bidding fair to stand as long as the Egyptian pj-ramids. His sermons to-day were exactly of this character. Thoufh entirely oflf-hand, there was matter and strength enour/h in them to supply one of your pretty preachers with a month's material for the pulpit. Our two learned judges smiled often at the sudden strokes of originality and powei*; and the prisoners stared, and shook, and wept, bending before him like the tops of a large forest to a passing tempest ! Monday, August 3. The following is the opening para- graph of a letter written by a female prisoner, a young and rather beautiful woman, to her mother. As this daughter of sorrow was never married, her sin will be partly appa- rent from her own words ; and the remainder of it was only the fruit, or natural consequence, of what the reader may here see. May her example be a warning to her sex ! "Ohio State Prison, July, 1846. " My Dear Mother, — You cannot tell how I long to hear from you. You were never in my circumstances — no, you were never such a sinful, wretched, afflicted, abandoned Deing as I am; and so you cannot conceive my misery. How I weep to see some of you — my parents, or the children, and particularly my own unfortunate little boy! 0, my mother, will you come and see me? Bring father with you. Or if you have cast me off, and refuse to see rae, send me my babe, that I may look upon it. He knows not yet that he has a living mother, and yet one that is (lead to him. Should he live to years, what will his feelings MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 189 be toward me, -n-hen he tliinks of his wretched mother, of what she has done and suffered, and of the disgrace in which she brought him forth! O my innocent, but dis- graced and suffering child ! Forgive your erring mother the fault of your unhappy fate ! And you, my parents — it breaks my heart to thint I am bringing your gray hairs in sorrow to the grave. O, my much-offended, much-injured parents, will you, can you, forgive your penitent and suffer- ing child ? I know I am unworthy your friendship, to say nothing of your love ; but could you realize how grateful I must feel for any expression of your favor, and how deeply I repent, and how sincerely and sorrowfully I ask your forgiveness for all my sins and for the afflictions I have brought upon you, you could not help, it seems to me, having pity on me, however I have separated myself from your regards. But let me name another thing. I fear, I daily dread, a worse separation — a separation that can never be repaired. You are the followers of the meek and lowly Savior; and heaven, my dear parents, is sure to be your home. But when you arrive there, and find many of our family in that eternal resting-place, of the virtuous and good, where, where, shall be your sinful, unfortunate, and sorrowing child ! Ah, mother, it behooves me most, whatever you may think of me, to seek God's pardon, and prepare for another world. If you cannot, without too much pain, see me here, I trust that, by God's help, I shall bo prepared to meet you where sin, and disgrace, and shame, and sorrow will never come. " Your erring child, L." Strange it is that this woman did not think of all this before her evil deeds were done. Few sinners go to niia without a candle in their hands, though many continue, in one way or another, to quench the illuminating flame. Their darkness, which they think is going to excuse them, is then only the greater sin. 190 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. The following is the biography of this young woman: Boru of respectable parents, she was, first of all, head- strong ; would have her own way ; was not indulged to her hurt, but broke all restraints ; in spite of her parents, began to go to balls, theatres, and other places of fashionable amusement; by one of her new associates she was seduced; became the mother of a child, then a "genteel" prostitute, last a thief, which concluding character has finally given her a resting-place, and a repenting-place, within the gloomy walls of this penitentiary. Young ladies, girls at home, beware how you take the first step to ruin by being head- strong and disobedient to your parents ! We never, or sel- dom, fall all at once. The road to infamy is that " Facilis descensus Averni," SO graphically mentioned by the classic poet. Yes, it is an easy, slippery, down-hill road. Keep your feet entirely from it, and you are safe. The above example of obstinate disobedience to parental advice reminds me of a second case, which may be of ad- vantage to another class of transgressors, if they will be careful to heed the warning. D. is a young man of good talents, rather mild in his disposition, and possessed of sev- eral engaging traits of character. He had a faithful young friend, who, in other years, when D. was just beginning to show some signs of unsteady habits, used to warn him with much ardor. Sometimes, rather to frighten him, I suppose, than speaking his real opinions, he would tell D. that his course, unless changed, would terminate in a state prison. But the warnings were laughed at and rejected. This sama young man, D., now writes to that old and faithful friend a letter of confession, which must have cost him many bitter feelings and self-reproaches. The following is an extract: "Penitentiary of Ohio. "My Dkau, Rkmembered, and Faithful Friend, — Time was when you and I were joyous and happy. Though wo MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 19 l were equals in happiness, and in many other respects, there was always a difference between us. You were ever con- .scientious, fearful of doing wrong, particular to do just rM\t. I, on the contrary, was reckless, fearless of conse- quences, with little thought as to the moral character of my actions. Still, I must say, in justice to myself, that I never intended to be a bad man. My bad conduct was rather the fruit of a careless disregard of right and wrong. I lived without thinking of my conduct, excepting when you would point out to me some error, or transgression of what you regarded as strictly honest and upright; but you know 1 used to tell you — and I really thought so — that you were too nice, too particular, too fastidious, in your moral judg- ment. I feel it now a solemn duty I owe to you, and to my injured sister, to let you know, after my long silence, during which you have probably not heard from me, my present unfortunate and disgraceful situation, the fruit of my not heeding your wise counsel. Let it not startle you: your prediction is now — must I say it? — at last too true. I am in the penitentiary. Yes, here I am at last, after all my disbelief and ridicule of your advice and warning, a poor, guilty, wretched, miserable prisoner, the companion of in- famy, crime, and degradation ! True, I shall at once, I fear, lose the last particle of your esteem for me; but, at the cost of a terrible struggle of mind, I have been compelled, by my sense of obligation, to send you this frank avowal of my condition, and of the truth of yom* predictions. Yfur past goodness to me, however, encourages me to liopo that you will not now entirely spurn me from your 6yrajht ! I must live and face my sins ! I must answer to my Judge ! I must behold the face of my mother, of my SaA'ior, of my offended God ! 1 have no fault to find with any of the officers of this prison. The warden seems to be a very kind and tender-hearted man. The guards are prompt but feeling. We have, also, a good, faithful chaplain, who preaches feelingly to us every Sabbath, and takes as much interest in us as if we were all his particular friends. But what is all this to me? What is the Bible, what is Christianity, what is preaching to a man, when all these condemn him, and that justly, to ever- lasting shame ! But I can Avrite no more. You know the comforts of reflecting that you liave made yourself and attained to honor and distinction. I know what it is to be, not a self-made, but a self-ruined man ! God grant this awful wisdom never may be yours ! J. W." August 4. This day was spent chiefly in the hospital, where there are many sick, and some inquiring Avhat they shall do to be saved. August 5. Most of this day, also, was given to the sick. In conversation with them I found most to be peni- tent, indeed all, excepting only two or three. As I was leaving them toward evening, one of the convalescent met ne at the door, and said he wished to tell me how he felt, and then get my opinion of his spiritual condition. "Very well," said I, "speak on. What are your feel- mgs?" " Well," said he, " I have several feelings which I wish vou to consider separately, and tell me what to think of them." "IS'ame them, then," I rephed, "distinctly, so that I can think of them as you proceed." 196 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. "First of all, then," said the man, with a cheerful smile^ " I leel happy and perfectly contented with my lot." "Very well, what next?" "Secondly, in praying I feel an assurance that God listens to my prayers." "What next?" "Thirdly, I can pray for my worst enemies, and feel pity for their evils, sorrow for their misfortunes, and approbation for their good qualities. I love them without exception.' "Is there any thing else?" "Yes, I enjoy the world better than I did. Food, clothing, books — every thing seems to me better than for- merly; and at night, instead of having bad dreams and unsteady sleep, I lay me down in peace, sleep quietly and soundly, feeling that God is with me in my cell. That feeling is the strongest of them all. I know that God is not any moie there than he used to be, nor more than he is everywhere else; but, strange as it may seem, as soon as I go to my cell, I feel that I am not alone as I' used to feel — that he is with mo, that he hears every thing I say, every thing I think! What do you think of all this? Is this religion?" "It is not for me to say," I replied, "whether you have religion or not, but these marks look very much like those laid down by the apostles." I then went on to expound to him the fruits of the Spirit as catalogued by St. Paul. 1 have no doubt the man is soundly converted ; but we shall know him by his fruits. Augu.st 6. One of our best young men left us this morning. He has been here seven long years at hard serv- ice. Since 1 came to the prison, ho has professed religion; and I fully believe his heart is right with God. He is now, whatever he was once, one of the most amiable young men I ever knew. He goes out with a character as white as wool, God has purified him ; and he is, consequently, clear MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 197 indeed. He is far from home, without acquaintances or friends; but he carries with him that which will certainly recommend him to all discerning men. As he left the prison, I went Avith him to the outer gate. Never, till that moment, did I know how much I loved him. How I felt for him, too, as I saw him about to emerge into the wicked world without any one to direct him in his path! I gave him, as a token of my affection, my pocket Testament, which was a precious book to me, that it might be not only a companion to him in his solitary pilgrimage to his former home, but a memorial of our friendship, to be preserved till death. I parted with him as I would have parted with my own son, whom I never expected to see again. He fell on my neck and wept; and I shed the tears of true affection on him. His last words were, "Father Finley, if I never meet you again on earth, I will trj-, by God's grace, to see you in heaven. Farewell !" He turned away in tears ; and I stood looking after him as far as I could see him, all the time praying God to have him in his care. I trembled for Lim, notwithstanding my strong confidence in his character, knowing as I do the evil that is in the world. But I com- mit him, with a trustful heart, to the faithful keeping of my God! August 7. In conversation with a piisoner, M. W. M., I had the opportunity of seeing a striking exhibition of the happiness which religion is calculated to procure. He is overflowing with hope, and peace, and joy. His veiy countenance carries evidence enou state, in which she resided when first married. She obtained*a situation for her son in a dry-goods store, m the city of New York, in which he spent several years, devoting all his energies lo make himself a good salesman, an accomplished clerk, and a first-rate theoretical and prac- tical book-keeper. This business enabled him, by constant practioe, to strengthen his perceptive faculties, wiih which bfl had been libera^v endowed by nature, and, like Cassius, MEMORIALS OF PRISON UFE. 225 to become "a great observer, and look quite through tlie deeds of other men," and to acquire readiness and accuracy in judging characters, and tact and address in rendering himself agreeable and in inspiring confidence. Such were his abilities, that, after having been employed m several different retail stores, he succeeded in obtaining o situation in a wholesale establishment and importing house doing an immensely-extensive business. And in this store or one of a similar kind, he continued to find employment ar long as he remained in the city of New York. No bettei evidence need be aiven to show the estimation in which hi? services Avere held, than the fact of his salary bemg gradu ally increased until it amounted to fifteen hundred dollar? per annum. Besides his other duties as clerk, he had to notice the arrivals of merchants from the interior and west em states, contrive to introduce himself to each one as soon as he arrived, invite him to his room, act as cicerone in showing him the wonders of that great London of Ameri- can cities, such as the City Hall, Tombs, Battery, Castle Garden, Niblo's, etc., taking him to the theatre, and not unfrequently treating him to an elegant supper at Delmen- ico's or some other fashionable restaurat. His engaging address, friendly manners, polite attentions, and hospitable entertainment, never failed of inspiring reciprocal feelings of friendly regard, and of obtaining the confidence of the person to whom he sought to attach himself — more espe cially if the person happened to be a stranger unacquainted with city life. Thej-e is no place in the world where ? person feels more lonely, friendless, and insignificant, than he does when for the first time he finds himself in the crowded thoroughfares of a great city. He feels that he is a mere atom floating on the tide of life — a human animal cule in the great ocean of existence — tliat if he were instantly swallowed up and should disappear for ever, not one being of the mighty throng would miss his presence or 226 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. regret liis loss. lie realizes the feeling of loneliness so beautifully expressed by Byron: "But midst the sliock, the hum, the crowd of men, To hear, to feel, to see, and to possess. And roam cilong, the world's tired denizen. With none to bless us, none whom we can bless — « # * » * » This is to be alone — tliis, this is solitude." Hamilton's attentions to such as were strangers generally paid well, and resulted in taking them to the store of his employers, and selling them thousands of dollars' worth of goods, gaining their good-will, and securing their future custom. No matter for what pursuit in life a boy is intended, a few months as clerk in a store is time well occupied. He may there acquire a training which will be useful to him in every pursuit he may be engaged in as long as he lives. He may learn to be methodical, ready in mental arithmetic, well versed in book-keeping and accounts, with the impor- tant lesson grounded in his mind of not permitting the expenditures to overrun the income, a practice which has ruined so many thousands. It impresses on the mind the immense value of character fur honesty and integrity. It is a school for exercising courtesy, patience, and forbear- ance — of learning, by constant practice, to control passions and subdue feelings of rising anger — of becoming a good judge of character — of practicing the art of pleasing, and of keeping a habitually-pleasant expression of countenance, which latter is of much more importance than many might suppose. A cheerful, frank, pleasant expression of coun- tenance, with eyes beaming with good-humor and, amia- bility, make more in one's favor than a letter of recommen- dation; and, like all our other faculties, may be improved and increased by constant practice. The noted Aaron Burr — than whom few men had a deeper msight of human nature, or could more successfully practice those blandish- MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 227 ments which captivate and win the regard of others — in a letter to his darling daughter, Theodosia, gives the following advice: "There is nothing more certain than that you maj form what countenance you please. An open, serene, mtelligent countenance, a little brightened by cheerfulness, not wrought into smiles and simpers, will pleasantly become familiar and grow into habit. A year will certainly accom- plish it. Avoid, for ever avoid, a smile or sneer of con- tempt ; never even mimic them." But to return to the subject of this sketch. While employed in wholesale houses he was sent on several col- lecting tours, which gave him a chance of observing the manners and customs of the people of the western states ; and such was his versatility of talent tliat he could adapt himself to any sort of people, and make himself agreeable and apparently at home amongst every variety of company that chance threw in his way. When the rage for speculating in lands broke out in 1834, he caught the spirit, and embarked in it with seal. He visited the west as agent for a company of land specu- lators, in which he also had an interest. He selected and entered several thousand acres of land, and was concerned in lavinff out a town at the mouth of Rock liver, which was named Rock Island City. He returned to New York to trive an account of his agencv, and soon after left to seek his fortune in the south. He was one of those men who are never so happy as when exercising their locomotive powers, who delight in a succession of new and varied scenery and objects, and retain -sivid and unusually-strong impressions and recollections of every thing which falls under their observation. To speak phrenologically, he was endowed with immense locality. He passed through Ohio by way of Columbus, Dayton, and Cincinnati. From thence he descended the river to New Orleans; and from there made a flying visit to Texas — his keen eye always on the 20 228 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. look-out for some business or enterprise in which to embark for the purpose of bettering his fortune. Returning again to New Orleans he formed a partnership with a Jew, the object of which was to take a venture of goods to Texas. An arrangement was made and a stock of goods purchased, a part of them on credit, for which the note of the firm was given. But before they started for the land of promise to realize their golden dreams, Hamilton suddenly changed his notion, and concluded to abandon the enterprise and go to Havana. A dissolution of partnership was proposed and agreed to — he settling his share of the firm debt with his quondam associate, who assumed its responsibility, and engaged a passage to Havana. On the morning on which the vessel sailed in wliich he was to make the voyage, he went to the lodgings of his late partner to procure the papers necessary to show in what manner they had settled, and of his having paid his share of the firm debt. The person he sought was not at home; the vessel was about sailing, and no time must be lost. And so, with some mis- givings on the subject, but hoping his partner would prove himself an honest man and comply witli his agreement, he embarked on his voyage to Cuba, and in a short time arrived at Havana. As the vessel entered the harbor, he was forci- bly impressed with the extraordinary strength of the de- fenses, and the spaciousness of the harbor, capable of containing more than one thousand vessels, yet with an entrance so narrow that only one ship could enter at a time. The Moro castle, elevated on a rock, with its lofty parapets, impregnable walls, bomb-proof covered way, and deep ditch hewn in the solid rock, with its numerous embrasures foi heavy artillery, seemed to frown defiance at the approach of an enemy, which, in the narrow channel, never could withstand the numerous and formidable guns of this castle; and, as if this was fjpft sufficient, there stands the Cavagna, or Puntal, and other forts, capable of pouring an iron MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE 220 tempest, enough to destroy and sink the strongest ships which ever floated on the ocean. The city, with its forts, dock-yard, magnificent houses built of stone, lazaretto, hospitals, and numerous, lofty church-steeples, together with the immense quantity of shipping in the harbor, made A splendid panorama, and filled him with admiration at its grandeur and novelty, and excited his curiosity for a closer inspection and examination. Havino- procured lodging, Hamilton concluded to spend some time in examining the place, studying the Spanish language, and making himself acquainted with the manners and customs of the people. He visited places of public amusement, such as fandangoes, theatres, masquerades, etc., the latter of which aflforded him a subject for observation, and from Avhich he derived much amusement. While at- tending one, at which he wore a domino, he paid considera- ble attention to a Spanish lady, in a mask, of faultless form and graceful manners ; but all his art and address failed to induce her to unmask, though he set her the example. He had no doubt but she was one of the haut ton — perhaps the accomplished and wealthy heiress of some grandee, a descendant from those w^ho conquered the island. The idea of making a fortune by marrying a Spanish beauty was not untliouoht of — an achievement much more difficult than he at first supposed, from the pride and exclusiveness of parents of Castilian descent, and the vigilance with Avhich daughters are watched and guarded by parents, guardians, »nd duennas. After remainincf some time, engfaofed as has been stated, and also on the look-out for some profitable business or employment, he chartered a schooner, freighted her with fruit, took command of her himself, and sailed for New Orleans. The voyage was prosperous, and the venture profitable, as he disposed of his cargo readily at a handsome profit. He returned to Havana with a cargo of flour and ,230 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFK. western produce, and did well with that also. He continued m this business two years, changing the vessel once in the meantime. While ensraQfcd in this trade he executed sev- eral special commissions for citizens of Havana. Amongst others he ingratiated himself very much with an old noble- man, who considered it beneath his dignity to ride a gelding, and for whose special use he purcliased at New Orleans and took over to Havana tine cahcllo entero. Notwithstand- ing his voyages were confined entirely to the Gulf, he acquired some practical knowledge of navigation, and en- larged his views about commerce. His next enterprise was to visit Key West, for the purpose of trading and specula- ting on wrecked or damaged goods. But little was done in that line, and he soon returned to Havana. Some of the wealthy citizens of the place, while on a visit to New York, liad been much pleased to witness the plays of Mazeppa and Timour the Tartar performed in the theatre, and expressed a desire to see the same plays performed in the theatre in Havana. He determined to make the experiment, though aware that it would be attend- ed with immense expense and responsibility. Whether it would be profitable would depend entirely on how it would take with the play-going public — on what houses they would draw. His first step was to set a competent person to translating these plays into Spanish, while he sailed to New York, where he chartered a whole company of circus-riders, horses and all, and returned with them to Havana. He rented the great Tacon theatre, said to be the largest in the world, except one at Home. This theatre was named Tacon after a captain-general of that name, whose administration was of immense benefit to the people, and whose name is still held in grateful remembrance. It forms a striking example to show how much benefit one man may confer upon his fellow-men, when placed in power, if he be good MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 28) and wise — endowed with tlie right quahties of the head and heart — witli moral courage and firmness to execute what his judgment dictates. For some years previous, and at the time of Tacon's arri- val, Havana was but little better than a den for thieves and out-throats. The slave-trade was carried on in an under- hand manner, and some of the most prominent citizens shared in its nefarious profits. Pirates wa^re secretly fitted out, and the proceeds of their successful cruises wei'c smug- gled in ; and citizens, apparently of high standing and respectable family connections, connived at it, and were sharers in their horrid gains. Murders and homicides were of ordinary occurrence. These victims of revenge and avarice were found of mornings in the streets, where they had fallen bv the stiletto of the assassin. No effective, energetic efforts were made to detect the perpetrators and to bring them to punishment. Leo Africanus — a great traveler in his day — visited a city in the western provinces of Morocco, called "El Eusuga- ghen, the city of murderers." A mere description of the manners of the inhabitants is enough to make one's blood run cold. The city was situated on a lofty mountain, surrounded by no gardens, and shaded by no trees. No person left his own door without being aimed with a dagger or a spear, which he Avas ever ready to use, at a moment's warning or provocation. As soon as Leo opened his court, foi' the purpose of introducing law amongst them, one man rashed before him, and accused another of murderinjj ci ^or the following reasons : "At the early age of fourteen I left my parental roof, to enter upon the busy scenes of life. Since that period I have held important situations in the first commercial houses in this country. I have sought my fortune upon the ocean, as well as on the land. I have traversed foreign climes, in the prosecution of commercial affairs; and through all these various pursuits, I have frequently been intrusted with large amounts of money and property, and heretofore my integrity has.never been questioned. No charge has ever been prefer- red against me to blacken my character with infamy and dis- grace — to carry overwhelming woe and distress to the bosom of a dear and widowed mother, and to blight the hopes and blasi the happiness of an affectionate sister. But, alas, how uncertain are human events! I now stand before this tribu- nal, convicted of a crime which subjects mc to a dread and fearful punishment — casts me beyond the pale of society — deprives me of the rights of citizenship — and exiles me, as it were, from my native country, a country dear to me on so many accounts. " It is dear to me because its simple system of confeder- ated government, from towns through counties and states up to one central iCgislaturc — legislative, judicial, and executive — guaranties tliose great principles of freedom and equaUty, so essential to the happiness of mankind; because its laws, customs, and institutions, are all favorable to the elevation of the masses; and hope, energy, and talent; are not oppressed here, as among.st some of the nations of MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 261 Europe, by usages which, though once useful in remoter asres, have lonof since been outj^rown ; because in this nation exists the possibihty of raising all men to the full use of their powers, and the full possession of the highest privi- leges of earthly existence. And my country is dear to me because it gave biith to a Washington. Thus viewing the laws and institutions of my country, your honor can but imagine how deep is my anguish, that one error — one fatal error — deprives me of the privilege of participating in its glory and in its happiness. I make no complaint of the laws. I know that it is only in their maintenance that we are secure in those inestimable privileges purchased by the blood and patriotism of our I'oi'cfathers. But I believe the laws were intended to reform, not to exterminate offenders. Already a deep feeling pervades the public mind in many of our large cities, as regards the best means to be used to reclaim erring man. And while it is conceded that the majesty of the laws must be sustained, it is believed that to deal out their penalties with a humane and merciful hand would have a greater and more beneficial effect upon many offenders, as it would awaken those feelings of grat- itude, so essential as a first means toward a reformation. " I have erred ; yes, greatly erred. The frailty of human nature, more or less, we are exposed to. Forgiveness to genuine repentance is the cardinal principle of that Chris- tianity which has triumphed over all its foes, and wafted many a spirit, as I hope and believe, to a brighter and a better world. I do not contend that laws for the govern- ment of mankind should be framed according to the divine laws. This would, doubtless, be inexpedient, as society is at present constituted. Yet I do believe those magnan- imous principles of forgiveness, as taught by the Savior of mankind, not merely beautiful sentimental tlieorics, fit only for heaven, but rational principles, which may, in many '•Hses, safely and profitably be reduced to practice on eartlu 262 'memorials of prison life. "If, your honor, I had been an adept in crime — if my feelings had become callous from its contaminating influ- ences, it is probable, nay, quite certain, that I should not liave been here to-day, occupying the humiliating and unfortunate position which I now do. To the voice of conscience do I owe my arrest. To that inward monitor, which God has planted in the breast of every human being, do I owe my detection. And although that voice was not sufhcient to deter me from crime, it was sufficient afterward to so overwhelm my feelings as to make me quite indifferent as to whether I was detected or not. The oft-repeated quotation, that 'man's inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn,' is not applicable to the treatment I have received since this unfortunate affair took place. Ever since I have been in custody here, I have been treated with kindness and civility by all with whom I have had any intercourse ; but particularly so by your sheriff, Daniel Lewis, Esq., as well as that of his family. While your .sheriff has been vigilant to an extraordinary degree, in the discharge of his duty, he has used every effort to render my imprisonment as cheerful as possible. And whatever position I may occupy in life hereafter, I shall always re- member with gratitude his kindness to me. And to my coun.sel, who have made such extraordinary exertions in my defense, without any pecuniary compensation, I can bur express my most profound acknowledgments. " Life is a checkered scene. It is like a splendid river, down which we may glide with bright and glorious pros- pects — our hearts untrammeled with care, high in hope, and higher in ambition — the future gleaming with iovely ihings, 'our footsteps to allure,' until some fortuitous event overtakes us in our mad career, and da.shes the cup of enjoyment from our lips. 'Tis then we are left to strug- gle with the adverse current, with the waves to weary and the billows to buffet us, until, disheartened and exhausted, MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 20y we yield to circumstances and pressing necessities, and commit deeds revolting to our feelings, and against the wiaole previous tenor of our past lives. "Such is the position I occupy before your honor. A succession of misfortunes, almost unparalleled in their na- ture, so affected my reason and reflective faculties as to lay them dormant, while I committed a crime which must be a source of deep sorrow through the remainder of my life — a crime which I pledge myself, before this court, and be- fore that almighty Being whose power and whose wisdom shine gloriously in his sacred word and in his works, never to commit again — no, never, though it were to gain the gems of Golconda or the gold of Mexico. " I stand before this tribunal as one whose heart is over- sliadowed with grief and sorrow unutterable — whose path- way seems to lead through the dark labyrinths of despair — but one who, notwithstanding all his seeming depravity, still possesses a spark of that spirit's loveliness, which one kind word may kindle into a flame, and eventually purify, and make him a living monument of your honor's hu- manity." While he was speaking a profound silence was observed — the fall of a pin might have deen heard. To form some idea of the efi'ect, the speaker himself and the manner in which it was delivered must be taken into consideration. He was a well-proportioned man, of good address, fashicna- bl J and genteelly dressed, with an expressive countenance- pale from confinement — with remarkably keen, piercing eyes, of dark brown color. His manner of speaking was forcible and impressive. He was deeply affected — not the whim- pering, hypocritical pretense, put on for eflfect, but deep, poignant, and heart-felt grief, which he strove to conceal, but which, in spite of his efforts, at times, almost choked his utterance. Such was the eloquence, feeling, and pathos of his manner, that Judge D., one of the associates, was 264 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. affected to ttars, and others nearly as much touched in sympatlietic feelings. On concluding, Judge Vance, whose appearance on the bench is dignified and prepossessing. addressed him in a very appropriate manner, concealing the "thorns of law under the flowers" of kindness and benevolence of manner. It is believed that the address of the prisoner had the effect to cause his sentence to be for a shorter term, by two whole years, from what was intended He was assured by the court, that if his conduct in the penitentiary was such as to justify the warden in giving a certificate of his good conduct and behavior, the court would sanction an effort to obtain a reprieve before the expiration of his sentence — numbers of persons expressing an intention of signing a petition for that purpose. Such was the feeling amongst the crowd, caused by the almost magic effect of his address, that, could it have been put to vote, a majority, under the impulse of the moment, would have voted to let him go, under the impression that he would go and sin no more. This Avas the opinion contained in an editorial in the Torchlight, giving an account of his trial and conviction. Before going to Columbus, he communicated the par- ticulars of the robbery to the writer of these sketches, Avith whom he first counseled as his legal adviser, who, as such, he knew he could not be made to testify against Iiim, and whose curiosity was much excited to know the particulars, believing, as he did, that he had an accomplice living in the place ; yet he never would relate the particu ■ jars until after sentence, and then appeared to converse about it with pain and reluctance. lie stated, that the next morning after arriving in Xenia, he went down to look at the new court-house, being in the fiabit of noticing the public buildings wherever he went, if time permitted. On his return, he happened to stop oppo- site Smalley's, to look at the buildings across the street. MEMORIALS OV PRISON LIFE. 266 It was Monday morning ; and he saw a man open the shop, and discovered that no person slept in it, and, consequently, might be entered and robbed with ease and security. That moment the temptation assailed him, and he yielded to its evil suggestion. Returning to Cincinnati, he bought the buggy, and exchanged his horse for one that had been broken in harness, and returned to Xenia; entering the town about nine o'clock, he drove through, out on the Springfield road, and put his horse in a high inclosure, leading to a slaughter-pen, where he left him, and came into town on foot. He took his station opposite the shop, at the place he was when the thought first occurred to him, where he remained until he saw the owner leave the shop : he then crossed over, and, entering a narrow passage between the shop and another house, saw two men work- ing on the board, in a back room. He declared he was not sorry to find them there — that he could not help hoping that something might transpire to prevent him from suc- ceeding ; and yet so strong was the temptation, that he lingered on, remaining on the watch at the same place, and at last saw the two journeymen leave. Having found, in an open shop, a blacksmith's rasp, and a thin bar of iron, used for tending the fire, he found no difficulty in opening the door by prying, following one instrument after another, until the staple, or socket for the bolt, gave way, which it did immediately. To enter, light a candle, and put the goods on the counter, convenient for moving them, was but the work of a few minutes. He expressed himself astonished at the quantity, which far exceeded his expectations ; he expected to make a pretty good haul, but not equal to the one he did make. Having arranged every thing, he led his horse close up to the side-walk, and commenced carrying armful after armful into the buggy, glancing up and down the street every lime he crossed, to see if any one was approaching. ATith 266 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. quick dispatch the buggy was loaded, and lie commenced Ins retreat ; but had not proceeded but a few steps, when the door, whicli he had shut, came open; thereupon he went back and fastened it, by putting a chip under it, con- sidering, that, as no person slept in the shop, if the door were kept shut, the robbery might not be discovered tmtii Monday, which would give him abundant time to get be- yond pursuit, which, in fact, it would ; but the door came open about three inches, which led to the discovery next morning, followed by quick pursuit ; and nothing prevented him from finally escaping, as it was, but the fact that he had not money enough left to pay the freight on the goods, but had to sell his horse and buggy to raise the means, which he had just effected, a few minutes before his arrest, for thirty-five dollars. When he had got out on the Day- ton road he stopped and repacked the goods, cutting ofif pieces of coarse drab cloth to make wrappers, Avhich were sewed round the bolts of fine cloth. He was busily engaged about half an hour. When he came to that part of his narrative where he was so imprudent as to get out and re- pack the goods, Avhen the snow would be sure to reveal tliat fact next morning, "Ah," said he, "had it not been for that" — pausing and shaking his head, while his whole countenance assumed an expression of the most intense and bitter chagrin — he not being aware that he was observed at the moment. He stated that his mind was so excited that it prevented him from feeling fatigue; nor did he sufFei much with the cold, as he walked most of the time, to save tlie horse, and to keep himself warm from exercise. He took breakfast at Dayton, and took the turnpike straight for Cincinnati, where he arrived about eleven o'clock at night; so that the trip tlie Xenians took to Miamishurg, by way of Liberty, was so much time thrown away, as they were all that time off the track. It was not until he had gone to bed, at the Lafayette MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 267 House, that he began seriously to reflect on the crime he had committed, and its consequences. A reaction took place in his mind, and he was smitten with such remorse of conscience that he had made up his mind to box up the goods next morning, place them in store, and direct a note to Xenia, giving notice where they could be found. During his sleep he was haunted with a dream almost as horrible as that of Clarence. He did not dream of being literally drowned, but he dreamed of being on a house, the Avhole face of the earth covered with water, as far as the eye could see : the waters were constantly rising ; inevitable destruction awaited him, and he suffered all the horrors of death by anticipation. Next morning his good resolutions yielded to the suggestions of avarice, whispering to him that the deed was done, and he would be a fool to do so much, and risk so much for naught ; and he made active preparations to start, packing up the goods in a clerk-like manner, in two common-sized packing-boxes, in the stable- yard of the Lafayette House. He was taken to Columbus in the stage, the journey be- ing performed in the night. He seemed to be enlivened by the motions of the coacli, and conversed with some show of cheerfulness. His conversation was intercstinir, showinar a wide range of practical knowledge. He sketched the characters of our leading statesmen of both parties with ability and discrimination. His topographical knowledge was very extensive and accurate, and his powers of descilp- tion forcible. The great poet of nature says, " He is a bastard to the times. Who smacks not of observation." This reproach could not be applied to him, for he wa? a person of immense observation, which let nothing escape. Toward midnight he fell asleep; and, as the moonlight fell upon his pale, well-chiseled features, and ample forehead, the thoughts of one of his attendants naturally reverted to 268 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE the miserable destination to which he was bound. Here was a young man, in the prime of hfe, of talents, address, and varied practical knowledge, with courage and firm- ness — one who might have shone in any profession — at the bar, in the pulpit, or in the halls of legislation, with honor to himself and advantage to the public — now a felon, con- victed of a midnight burglary and robbery, and doomed to the state prison for a term of years. The stage arrived at Columbus just after daylight, and turned up the river, to the place of destination. The sheriff remarked, in a good-humored manner, "Hamilton, yonder's the place;" on which he immediately put out his head, and the first glance caused his eyes to suffuse with tears. There stood, looming gigantically in the fog, that imposing structure, with its tiers of iron-bound windows, its massive stone walls, battlemented like some ancient feu- dal castle, conjuring up, in imagination, the dungeon, keep, turrets, bastions, etc., of one of those baronial strongholds of the middle ages, filling the brain with vague, undefinable feelings of terror and mystery. The stage drew up at the porter's lodge, or gate-house, where there was a guard, with his bright musket convenient; passing through, the prisoner walked, with some alacrity, in advance of his at- tendants, over the well-worn flags, along Avhose smooth surface so many unhappy men have trailed their fetters, being about to be ushered into a new life of seclusion, of toil, privation, and degradation, to become painfully and practically acquainted Avith the secrets of that immense prison-house. On entering the office he took his seat by the fire, while the warden at his desk, a benevolent, pater- nal-looking gentleman, gave him a scrutinizing look through his gla-ssrcs, as though he would read his cliaracter, and, in fact, he seemed surprised to see such a man come there a prisoner. Here he parted with his conductors, whom he 'earnestly requested to call and see him before returning U) MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE, 209 Xonia. After breakfast they returned for the purj)ose of examining the internal arrangement of this immense, com- plicated establishment — a community within a community, a community of itself — where the snorting engine, the whizzing wheels, the flying shuttles, and clattering ham- mers, mingled with the din of A-arious machinery, would seem to produce unutterable confusion ; but such is not the fact. Hundreds of human beings, with silent tongues and busy hands, are employed, with as much regularity as so many machines: " There passive limbs, to measured tasks confined. Obey the impulse of another mind:" each one the companion of his own thoughts, and "thick- corains: fancies." The entrance to the inner vallum is well calculated to strike a damp upon the feelings of prisoners, who, for the first time, are about to pass its gloom}' and ponderous portals. Near the far end of the hall, or entry, there is a strong palisade of upright beams of timber, with spaces between them, through which musketry can be discharged. A gate, studded with knobs of iron, admits through this palisade, and, outside of it, by an ingenious contrivance, something similar to hoisting and shutting a mill-gate, a person can fasten or imdo the great iron gate, which leads into the prison yard. This gives additional protection ; for, should the prisoners make a rush at and secure the big gate, when opened, they would be stopped by the wooden wall, and be exposed to a close and deadly fire of small arms, through the interstices between the beams. This place might not unaptly be termed the citadel of the whole establishment. Each prisoner, on leaving his cell, the moment he steps out, is exposed to a raking fire of small arms, right and left, from one end to the other of each corridor. Gibbon, in speaking of the Praetorian guards, says forty soldiers cannot keep in subjection four hundred citizens, nor four hundred keep four thousand; but theii 270 MEMORIALS OF PRISOX LIFK. powers double much faster than their numbers beyond that, as forty thousand discipHned soldiers, in a strong garrison, may keep in subjection millions of artisans and peasants. This placo is constructed with so much art as to give the. power to a few to keep many in subjection ; for, as Captain Patridge said, one man, armed with a loaded pistol, is equal to one hundred unarmed men, for, though he could kill but one, not one of the hundred knows but that one may be himself. The prisoner was bound in his cell, clad in prison uni- form, and, in presence of the warden, took leave of the sheriff and assistant, who left him shedding bitter, but unavailing tears, at his melancholy situation. He was soon after placed in the hospital to attend the sick, a post he was well qualified to fill. Here his early initiation in a drug store was found to be of use to him in his new situation. Wirt says, "Old-fashioned economists will tell you never to pass an old nail, horseshoe, buckle, or pin, without taking it up ; for, though you may not want it now, you will find a use for it sometime or another;" and so it is with regard to knowledge. There is not an item or fact which we may treasure up that will not be called up by the power of association, and be serviceable. With medical books to read, a learned and skillful physi- cian to prescribe, a dispensatory at command, and constant practice in administering medicines to the sick, he seemed to stand a fair chance to become a doctor. But he waB eventually removed to another station, where he was em- ployed in wrapping up stirrups, buckles, bridle-bits, etc., a business that was light and congenial with his early duties in a store. It has been suggested that the reason of his removal was a strong suspicion that he meditated an escape, which could have been more ea.sily effected from the hos- pital than from any other portion of the prison. Never did i «oul pant for freedom with more intense longing than his. MKMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 271 Never was confinement more irksome to any man: it was uncongenial with every faculty of his mind, his affections, and Al his bodily habits and pursuits. And it is supposed thai, thoughts of freedom, and plans for obtaining his hberty, occupied much of his attention. Every circumstance he could lay hold of he was disposed to use for the purpose of obtaliiin^ his freedom. After the double murder had been perpetrated in Xenia, on the 2d of August, 1845, he wrote to the sheriff on the December following, in which he says: "I am very anxious to see you. I have something of a highly-important nature to intrust you with, in which, if you are not more interested than myself, I knovv there ai'e others in your county who are. Don't fail to come, for rest assured you will never have cause to regret having done so. A most atrocious murder has been perpetrated in your midst since I left, which, I suppose, is yet shrouded in mystery. Two men have been mowed down, in the morning of life, and, without a moment's warning, sent to ' That undiscovered country, Pfom whose bourne no traveler returns.' The blood of these two young men cries from the ground for retributive justice upon those midnight assassins, whose ruthless hands so suddenly reft them of life. I hope the perpetrators of that horrid act will not escape the just condemnation of the law. That the mystery that hangs over that event will some day be removed, and the offenders brought to justice, I have no doubt. I know not how or why it is, but ever since the sad news of this melancholy affair has reached me, this impression has been wonderfully fixed in my mind." He thought he had learned soraethinc: from a convict while he was sick in the hospital, that would lead to the discovery of the perpetrators of the murder of these young men ; and this was what he desired to communicate to the sheriff. The sheriff went, but nothing was elicited to lead 2*72 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFK. to any discoveries. He also "wrote to the young man who attended the jail in the sheriff's absence, offering him a large compensation in money to try and obtain signers to his petition, and concluded by saying, " Lest you may doubt my ability to raise this from my friends, I "will now, in strict confidence, disclose to you what I had heretofore determined to keep an inviolable secret. My brother-in-law's name is , a wealthy merchant of New York." That his con- nections were persons of high respectability, there is no doubt; for, in another letter on the subject, he says, "If I could only have a petition sent up with signers, / could fini the means to operate on the governor's mind," etc. The followinor extract from a letter from one of his coun- O sel, will explain why the prospects of obtaining signers to a petition for his reprieve had been rendered doubtful. It was written in answer to one from him, earnestly entreating that something should be done in his behalf: "All this change in the prospect of obtaining signers to a petition for your reprieve, has been caused by that atrocious, bloody, barbarous, wanton, unprovoked double murffer, committed in this town on the 2d day of last August was a year — a murder revolting to every feeling of humanity. It exasper- ated the feelings of the whole community ; for, if such monsters in human shape were permitted to run at large, no one knows whose turn it would be next to fall a sacrifice to the destroyer, which, like the pestilence that walketh in darkness, destroys in the security of sleep. The citizens were roused from their peaceful slumbers to witness the glare of the conflagration, and to see the bodies cf two amiable young men who had fallen by the hands of assas- sins: one of them with one eye beaten out, jaw broken, face horribly swollen and disfigured, brains oozing from a wound in the back of his head; the other with his head and legs burned off, and his tinink like a blackened cinder, lying on the sidewalk, exhaling a stench of blood — revolt- MEiMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 273 Ing — awfully revolting! while the citizens were straining every nerve to save property and combat the raging cle- ment, which was spreading with fearful rapidity. The next morning the news spread over the country like wild-fire, and brought in great numbers of citizens from the country. While parties of armed men were seen galloping out in different directions; and when a body of them rode up to tlie jail with a prisoner, they were almost instantly sur- rounded by a dense mass of people, and the captive was I'eceived with a shout so fierce, savage, and vindictive, that it was enough to strike terror into the stoutest heart and cause it to sink with dismay. In this murder you had neither agency nor knowledge. Why should it operate against you? But such is the consequence of crime. It frequently affects persons injuriously, not thought of or intended to be injured. This murder was the occasion of two more deaths — one the mayor of the town, a most estimable man and citizen, in the prime of life, with an interesting young family. In his exertions to save property, his house being one Avhich was burned, he got thoroughly wet, and the exposure and fatigue brought on a fatal disease, in which he suffered more than either of the murdered men. The other wa? a delicate young man, who died from the same cause. A person whose charity has been imposed on by an impostor, might afterward refuge aid to real objects of distress, for fear of a similar imposition. In your case th^ murder of these two men has irritated the public mind, causing a feeling of severity and sternness to predominate egainst offenders, with a disposition to believe that all are pretty much alike, and would kill, too, if it had become necessary to avoid detection." In his answer to this he writes : " I was aware that the murders in Xenia had injured my prospects of obtaining a reprieve, and I had determined to put off the matter eighteen months longer; but my health has declined so rapidly through the summer, and ^''^ MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. continues so bad — being now only able to write this sitting up in bed, a few lines at a time — that I was desirous that an effort sliould be made for my release this fall. If those who manifested a disposition to do something in my case when the proper time arrived for obtaining a release, should now refuse, because in the interim a horrid murder was committed in your midst, it is extremely unfortunate for me; especially so, as withholding that aid may prolong my im prisonment to a period which may cost me my life. I havfe been considering about communicating my situation to my friends, but am of opinion that a petition from your county, signed by some of the citizens, would be necessary, and do more good than coming from any other quarter. For more than one hundred days I have had more or less fever, with a general gastric irritation, causing much pain in the head and stomach. I am now in such a state as to be almost unable to take food. Perhaps I should not regain my health if I were released. But it would afford me unspeak- able pleasure to see my friends once more, and if my health cannot be restored, to die among those who are near and dear to me." A petition was written to the governor for a reprieve, and put in the hands of a person who was wSling to act in obtaining signers. In consequence of the terrible state of his health, and the certainty that he would die if he re- mained in confinement, the prospect had been more favora- ble for success. But the news of his death rendered alj further proceedings unnecessary. Such was the end of a man calling himself Alexander Jay Hamilton, who might l)ave succeeded in any profession, or adorned any walk in civil life, and been universally be- loved and esteemed — might have lived to a good old age with all the accompaniments which should attend it, "such as lore, obedience, honor, troops of friends." Instead of that, he died a convicted felon in a state prison, away from MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 2*15 all who were dear to liim — no tender mother, no kind sister or friendly relative to hover round his bedside, like ministering angels, shedding tears of sympathy, and soothing and alleviating his sufferings — no friendly hand to close his eyes — not a tear shed over his pale remains. Such a fate ought to be a solemn warning to young men not to permit a love of wealth — an inordinate desire to be rich — to tempt them from the path of honesty, uprightness, integ- rity, and candor. " Sincerity, Thou first of virtues, let no mortal leave Thy onward path, although the earth should gape. And from the gulf of hell destruction cry To take dissimulation's winding way." The question naturally occurs. Was this burglary his first crime? He so averred to the court; and to the last, Avhile he remained in Xenia, in all his most confidential communi- cations, he still declared this was his first offense, and that the temptation to commit this crime was to raise means to carry on his contract for coining in Venezuela, having failed In all his attempts to induce any one to go in with him wlio had the requisite funds. The writer of these sketches is of opinion that this was not his first offense. The conception of it was instantaneous, on observing, when the owner opened the shop on Monday morning, that no person slept in it. Now, an honest man, totally inexperienced in such matters, would scarcely have thought whether any one slept in the shop or not. As soon as his mind was made up to do the deed, every arrangement was made deliberately to carry it into execution. Every contingency appears to have been anticipated and provided for, even to the large needle used for sewing wrappers round the bolts of fine goods, the piece of spermaceti can- dle, matches, knife, and piece of cord. There was from its first conception to its completion a prudence, consideration, and forethought which would seem to impiy some ex pen- 2Tff MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. ence in the business. His correct judgment about tho fastening of the door, rendering it unnecessary for him to bring any burglar's tools prepared on purpose — his presence of mind, in going back and putting a chip under the door to keep it shut, rightly concluding that if the burglary were not discovered until Monday he would be far beyond pursuit, which, in fact, he would, and had like to have been, as it Avas — liis attempt to break jail, so original in conception and so skillfully managed, that one would hardly suppose a novice in such matters would have thought of or attempted it, which was a plan worthy the abilities and experience of a craftsman at the top of his profession — all gave additional and indubitable evidence of the strong cast of his mind. His education was but an ordinary one at first, to which he added a knowledge of the Spanish language. He was not a bookworm, nor one of extensive literary attainments, having been emphatically a business man ; but he had the happy talent of being able to control all his associations, and a facility of applying his knowledge to proper advantage, which, like ready change in market, was always available. He was a close observer, a good judge of human nature, and discriminated characters with almost intuitive precision and accuracy; and possessed the art of pleasing, gaining friends, and inspiring confidence in an extraordinary manner. His talents, attainments, and address fitted him to be a very dangerous, bad man, and, with the moral virtues, would have made him a useful member of the community, the pride of his family, the delight of his friends, and an ornam.'iii to society. " Virtue Is like the sun; and all which rolls around Drinks life, and light, and glory from Her aspect." The following extracts are made from a long letter, dated August 29, 184.5, which he addressed to the sheriff and one of his counsel. It is rather metaphysical for a convict. MEMORIALS OF PRISON tIFE. 27T but will doubtless be read with some curiosity by the reader : " Gentlemen, — I have never expressed to you those sen- timents of gratitude which I so sincerely entertain and cherish for the favors and kindness I have received from vou. And it always will be impossible to express them; for no language can adequately convey my feelings on this subject, knowing as I do that the motives which prompted you to take any interest in my welfare sprang from nothing but those benevolent and philanthropic feelings which you possess in an eminent degree. I shall ever be impressed with a sense of deep gratitude toward you, especially when I remember your kindness was manifested toward me in the darkest hour and most calamitous period of my life. " Of all the feelings and dispositions which the Almighty has more or less conferred upon man, that of benevolence stands forth the purest and highest. It is a sentiment which diffuses a pleasing influence on all the social affec- tions. Its exercise alleviates distress and increases the hap- piness of mankind. The motives from which it acts are as pure as its Avorks are beneficial, being a spirit of universal kindness to all mankind, from enlarged views of philan- thropy and Chiistian duty. As the bee extracts honey from the most unlovely weed, so the benevolent mind draw.s something good from all who come within its benign influ- ence. What a world of strife, contention, suflfering, sorrow, and misery would be spared to mankind, were its practice univarsal ! But, alas ! man is a wayward being, and himself his greatest enemy. For what is all his toil, strife, and inordinate desire to asrarrandize himself? If we takt a retrospective view, how stands the account? Have not man's noblest achievements yielded to the victorious tooth of time? We can find an answer amidst the ruins of Pai myra and Jerusalem. Behold ! the city of God hath fallen. The musing traveler searches in vain for the splendid temple '278 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. of Solomon. It no longer exists, only in description and fancy Its glory bath departed for ever. And where are tliousands and tens of thousands who have inhabited the Sacrod City, and whose voices once made the temple voca with the songs of praise ? They have passed away like t shadow. Rome, too, the city of the seven hills, thougl called the Eternal City, is strown with the molderiug fragments of other ages and of departed greatness — antf Carthage and Thebes, which time has 'grated to dust) nothing.' Such are a few of the instances of the end ol all human grandeur and all human greatness. They ar« the oracles of past ages, and are eloquent in their silenct and desolation. " If, to turn from the contemplation of the works of man we turn to those of a higher power, how sensibly shall w< be impressed with the works of the Almighty! I havt stood upon tlie lofty Andes, and beheld a prospect of indescribable grandeur — have viewed, from the iron hills of Cuba, a landscape of unsurpassable loveliness. I have traversed the broad and beautiful prairies which border on the Rio del Korte, covered with the green verdure of June, and interspersed and bespangled with beautiful flowers, forming a. grand and beautiful view, like one vast flower- garden. I have beheld the rushing waters of the stupen- dous cataract of Niagara. I have gazed at the sun, moon, and stars, in all their resplendent glory ; and it was at such limes, when viewing sucli scenes, that I have been impressed with feelings of indescribable awe and reverence ; and not a doubt existed in my mind, that the mighty and majestic structures of the heavens and tlie earth were the works of a divine, glorious, and almighty Architect. The mind shrinks from its incapacity to comprehend the gigantic wonders of creation ; yet we can comprehend sufficient to overwhelm us with wonder and admiration, and fill the soul «nih ).jverfnce and veneration for their divine Author. A MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 279 aue appreciation of the works of creation will impart pure and elevated thoughts and impressions, closely allied to religion and morality, so essential to our present happiness and future felicity. "There is nothing in this world that is more talked of )ind less understood than happiness. It is every one's wish and desire ; yet how few comparatively know what it coii- i;ists in ! For one I am well convinced that real happiness ran only be found in the enjoyment of religion, and living near the Fountain and Source of all excellence. Philosophy may teach us the importance of governing unruly passions. Reason and self-interest may teach us the utility of cultiva- ting the arts and sciences and practicing the moral virtues; but still the soul of man is capable of soaring after higher objects and aspiring to more perfect happiness. Sincere religion only can inspire us vfith just conceptions in regard to the momentous relations we sustain to futurity — to give tranquility and resignation to the mind, and buoy up and sustain the soul in the storms and adversities of life — to infuse those heaven-born feelings which expand the soul and give a foretaste of the rapturous joys of a blessed immortality. "Entertaining these views, no consideration shall ever induce me to SAverve from the path of rectitude and virtue ; and aside from any consideration of the future, there are considerations of a present and personal nature which will for ever deter me from subjecting myself to such punish- ment as I am now enduring. These considerations are, that I am fully convinced that whoever pursues a course of conduct in direct contravention to the laws of his country will invariably drag out a miserable existence in chains and slavery; and, according to my present Aiews, life is not worth purchasing at such a price. Rather than such a life I would prefer some uncivilized country, where I could be as free as the beasts that roam the forest. 280 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. "The quest'ion might very properly be asked, Why, then, have you subjected yourself to your present condition? Jn an evil moment I turned aside from the path of rectitude, and deprived myself of that which to me Avas paramount to all considerations — my liberty and character. 0, liberty ' what an inestimable blessing ! We can scarcely fully appre ciate thy A-alue until deprived of thy enjoyment! No won- der our forefathers united together to achieve so glorious a boon, whose blessings, like the dews of heaven, descend on the great and the small. How much should we revere the memory of Washington, that incomparable man, who, by his wisdom, his great good sense, his patriotic devotion to his country's cause, was able, by the blessing of Divine power, to triumph over all diOlculties, and laid our present admirable system of government! The name and fame of Washington will never be lost to the knowledge of the human race. He will live in marble and in brass — in poetry and eloquence. ***** "With regard to the institution of which I am now an inmate, as to the various reports you hear outside about the cruel and inhuman treatment exercised toward prisoners here, I can say, so far as I am able to judge, that they are entirely unfounded. Indeed, I believe the warden of the institution is a gentleman of a humane and benevolent dis position, and I do not believe it is his desire to punish any one. I am certain that whoever will conduct himself in a proper manner need not apprehend any difficulty whatever; but, in an institution like this, order and discipline must be maintained, and, consequently, the refractory and disorderly must expect punishment. The work here is constant; but, with the exception of one or two shops, I do not think it very laborious. The food, though coarse, is plenty and wholesome ; and the prisoners generally are hale and hearty. The arrangement for the sick is appropriate and comfortable. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 287 and it ought to be a consolation to those who have friends here, that whenever they are ill every attention is shown them. Indeed, I do not think that they would receive better treatment in any of our best-regulated hospitals in our large cities. " Divine service is performed eveiy Sunday in a loft over one of the shops, very neatly fitted up for that purpose. The clergyman who officiates is of the Presbyterian order — a gentleman of fine acquirements, though not an eloquent man. He has a manner, while reading a portion of the Bible, of explaining each verse as he proceeds, which 1 think eminently befitting the audience to which he has to preach, and, to my mind, more instructive than his ser- mons. The financial condition of the institution is in a flourishing condition, yielding an annual revenue to the state of some fifteen or twenty thousand dollars. Good order, regular discipline, and economy prevail throughout every department; and, from what I have been able to observe, I do not think the institution could be in better hands. "In conclusion, I consider myself extremely fortunate, after what has been done, to fall into the hands of such people as your citizens, who to firmness in executing the laws, unite kindness and humanity. To all such, I beg to return my most grateful acknowledgments. * Please to remember me kindly to my counsel, Messrs. Howard and Nesbett, and to all others with whom I had aay intercourse. " Very respectfully, A. J. H." The following is a copy of a letter written by Hamilton tC' the sheriff of Green county: " Ohio Penitentiary, Columbus, August 2, 1846. "Daxiel Lewis, Esq. — Dear Sir, — It is not unknown to you, that before I left Xenia for my abode in tliis prison, several gentlemen of your town and county expressed an 282 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. intention of signing a petition to the executive for my par- don, at the proper time. While I feel truly grateful to them for their friendly intentions toward me, I am happj to inform them, through you, that I trust I have received a pardon of far greater importance — a pardon, not from his Excellency, the Governor of this state, but from the Gov- ernor of governors — the great Prince of the universe. "What has that great Prince done for poor, wretched man? He has made the earth to yield richly and abund- antly for all his temporal wants; and has made it beautiful .1 aspect, touching in harmonies picturesque in contrasts, 'He has bound it around with rivers as with diamonds, and surrounded it with the ocean as with a cincture.' He has given it variety of seasons, corresponding with all the vari- ous wants of man. He has peopled the land and the ocean, the mountains, valleys, rivers, and lakes, with innumerable hosts of living beings, to feed on the sustenance provided for them. Man only, amongst them all, has been endowed with reason, and can hold all others in subjection by the power of mind and reason. All this that great Supreme has done for ungrateful man. He has done incomparably more than that. He has offered an atonement by the blood of a Savior, freely shed upon Mount Calvary, ' that whoso believeth on him should not perish, but have ever- lasting hfe.' When we take into consideration the fallen condition of man, and the consequent utter helplessness of his condition, with what feelings of gratitude ought tve not to be inspired toward a being of such infinite love and mercy ! Man Avas originally created a pure and upright being ; but the destroyer came, and polluted the fair tem- ple of God's glorious image. High Heaven looked down upon man's lost condition, and the plan of redemption was formed, which, in due time, was consummated by the birth, crucifixion, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior. ***** MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 283- "I wisli just to say, that a contemplation of this stu- pendous miracle has been my only encouragement in setting out in the ways of religion; for "when, in the providence of God, I was brought to a sense of my utter unworthi- ness, such mountains of sin rose up before me as made me doubt and fear that God would not wipe away my mani- fold transgressions. But, on searching the divine oracles of truth, I found such abundant evidence 'that Christ came into the world to save sinners,' as induced me to cast these doubts aside, and commit my cause to Him who has said, 'Though your sins were as scarlet, I will make them as white as wool.' ' Truly, we have an advocate with the Father — one who has conquered sin, led captivity captive, and purchased our redemption with his blood.' God has promised, to all who fight under the banner of our Savior, and are faithful to the end, not only pardon and peace here, but a crown of immortal glory in a world to come. "You have doubtless, in the course of your life, known a man who was intemperate and profane, a curse to his fiimily, and a pest to society, suddenly become a sober, industrious, and good man. He had not only become reformed as to the grosser vices, but was really walking in accordance with the commands of God. What think you effected such a radical change in his character and con- duct? Had the angel Gabriel led him, in a vision, to empyrean — overpowered his faculties with the effulgence of divine glory? or did he frighten him, by placing him on the brink of a crumbling pit, where he might behold the ruin and despair of the workers of iniquity? Neither. But he had learned the faithful saying, 'that Jesus Christ came into the world to seek and save that which was lost,' and that he bore our sins in his own body, on the tree — that he suffered, the 'just for the imjust' — 'that he was wounded for our transgression, and bruised for our iniquity." '284 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. He then saw that pardon and peace, through the atoning blood of Christ, are freely uttered to the chief of sinners. He became a humble suppliant at the throne of mercy, and received pardon and a remission of his sins. But this is only a single tropliy of the Gospel of Christ. The first time the sword of the Spirit was grasped by mortal hands, three thousand fell under its mighty influence. Since then, miUions of the human race have bowed to its sceptre. It has at length reached my breast, and I shall be able to express my gratitude to the Author of all true happiness, for its efficacious operations on my heart and conscience. " I ask for no greater specimen of Almighty power — not the word which stayed the proud waves of the sea — not the mighty arm which hurled the vast orbs of heaven along the fields of unlimited space — nor ' Sinai's thunder pealing from the clouds.' But let me ascend Calvary, let my eyes be directed to the bleeding victim on Calvary, for there alone is to be seen — according to God's own declarations— what is the exceeding greatness of his power. Here we see the consummation, given to Adam in the hour of h'v. depression. Behold a bleeding Savior, suffering an igno- minious death on the cross, to redeem man from the bond- age of sin. It was only by uniting the divine with the human nature, that God's justice and mercy could 'kiss each other.' "When we reflect upon the unbounded mercy of our Creator, we sliould feel a hallowed flame of ardent zeal in his service, and look forward to the prize of inestimable value. "What melodious music is it that salutes our ravished ears? P'rom yonder azure sky it comes. 'Tis Religion on her triumpliant car, in robes of purity and truth, saying, 'Ileceive me, and I will bind your brows with crowns which fade not away. Receive me, and I will 1 iad you to foun- tains of living waters, and to scenes of unfading glory. If .MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 285 you delight in progress, here your progress shall be com- mensurate with eternity.' "What moral grandeur is there in the character of that man who has embraced Christianity, and received it in his inmost soul ! Amid the ' war of elements, the wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds,' he is safe, for the edifice of his hopes is built on the Rock of ages. True religion takes away the sting of death, and despoils the grave of its victory. Pride, fortified in the principles of philosophy, may enable one to meet death with feigned composure ; but divine religion alone takes away the sting of death, and despoils the grave of its victory. "It has pleased the Almighty to endow man with an intellect susceptible of the highest improvement, to impart to his soul aspirations to those mansions in the skies, where angels tune their harps with living melody, and saints in sweet responses breathe forth their songs of joy and grati- tude. When his heart is purified by Christianity, he then deservedly ranks as one of the noblest works of the great Creator. Shall we forget the high object for which we were created, and jeopardize our eternal happiness, amidst the transient pleasures of the earth? No; let us elevate our thoughts and affections to that Being who does all things for our good, whose grace purifies all that is vicious and corrupt in our nature, and, by the inconceivable riches of his mercy, draws us to himself, and by degrees opens our eyes to see the greatness of that beauty which at fii'st we are unable to understand. "Some doubt the immortality of the soul. If the soul be not immortal, then is religion a splendid delusion. Men of great talents have devoted their lives to imdermine tliis mighty structure, upon which rests the future hopes of milhons. Did they consider that they were seeking to break down that column which is the only support and con- solation of the poor, the unfortunate, and the cast down? 286 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. " 0, tell me not that when I repose in the silent grave, i am doomed to a night of eternal darkness. For what pur- pose did Christ come into the world — for what did he lay down his life, as pure as the pearl beneath the ocean wave— for what did he endure those agonizing tortures on the cross, if there be no hope beyond the grave? 'Verily, if in this life alone we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.' I have beheld Nature, arrayed in her gorgeous robes, wither, and fade, and become dreary and desolate. Yet, I beheld the scene reanimated — the fair buds came forth, and expanded their beauties to the sun. The rose, the lily, the moss cup, and tulip, and all the beauteous 'sister- hood of flowers,' again decorated the hills and valleys. I have known the worm spin itself a tomb : for a time it lay in its silken cone; but at length it came forth with new life and beauty. It came forth, not a worm crawling in the dust, but a beautiful butterfly, Avith enameled wings and brilliant colors, to fly abroad in the pure air of heaven, and sport from flower to flower. So shall it be with thee, 0, man ; thou must be laid low in the dust, but there is a voice that shall call thee into being again. At the sound of that voice thou shalt burst asunder the prison doors of the tomb and come forth to life, to participate in weal or woe for a never-ending eternity. "There is something sad in the falling leaf. There is something melancholy in the reflection that nothing beauti- ful can escape the unsparing tooth of time. There is some- thing awful in death — but there is a hope in a blessed immortality. " Hope is the cordial of life ; it comes to us in infancy, and attends us through the journey of life, frequently cheating us with anticipations we never realize. But Di- vine hope never misleads us. The one is a meteor, which often leads us into marshy places, and becomes extinguished on its humid borders. The other is like the pillar of light. MEMOKIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 287 »ftat piloted the Hebrews through the pathless desert from the house of bondage. The Christian's hope is a passion- flcwer, sprung from the blood of Christ and watered by his grace. Elijah, as he ascended in his fiery chariot, threw his prophetic mantle on his favorite disciple : Christ, when he ascended to glory in the heavens, left us something better than the cloak of Elijah — the hope of one day being united to him in a glorious immortality. "My past life has been a checkered scene. I have had a fau' competency one day, and been as poor as a beggar the next. I have had alternately the smiles and frowns of Fortune. I have glided down the stream of life buoyant with the bright hopes of fortune and happiness ; but at last the stream turned against me with a torrent not to be resisted ; and I thank Heaven for the storm that has driven me into the channel which leads to the harbor, as I hope and believe, of eternal rest. "It is with pleasure I inform you, that strenuous efforts are being made to improve the moral tone of feeling amongst the prisoners here. We have a pretty extensive library of good books for our use and improvement. This is as it should be. What does a community gain by incarcerating a man a few years in a place like this, if no attention be paid to his moral condition? Nothing, any longer than his confinement lasts. Most men whom the law overtakes and sends to an institution like this, probably never reflected much on the future. Let them, then, when their spirits are depressed under a sense of their misfortunes, be prop- erly instructed in a knowledge of that religion, whose sublime doctrines and pure principles alone can cleanse them from sin, purify their lives, and elevate them from degradation. " I consider the community at large, as well as ourselves, fortunate in having a chaplain — the Rev. J. B. Finley — who is zealous in the discharge of his important duties. He is 288 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIKE. well qualified to impart instruction and promote reformation amongst the prisoners. He is a fine old gentleman, of good common sense, popular address, ardent piety, and true benevolence of character. I think he is destined to qo great good here, and I hope the Lord will crown his labors with abundant success." MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 289 CHAPTER XX. Interesting interview — Adjournment of conference — Prison disci- pline — Causes of crime — Lax family government — Liquor-selling — Kendall's description of Newgate prison, Granby, Conn. — Infernal treatment — Strange enactment — Mt. Pleasant prison, N. Y. — Sing Sing prison — The devil among the officers — A new era — Folly of official pardons — Obstacles in the way of reform — Long commit- ments — Officers of the prison — Proceeds of convict labor — Instruc- tion of convicts — Boys — Compensation for labor — Contractors gen- erally a hated and heartless set of men — Choice of a warden — Directors and inspectors — Relatives — Sabbath work — Remedy proposed. Sl'nday, Septemder 6. lam still at conference. To-day I had the pleasure of holding communion with many of my brethren, young and old. Among the latter class I hailed once more on the shores of time three of my old com- rades, who were members with me of the original Western conference, when the great valley of the Mississippi was a howling wilderness. We four are the only survivors. The rest have all gone to their reward. The veterans alluded to are Revs. James Quinn, Jacob Young, and David Young, whose praise is in all the Churches. They have all been hard-working, faithful, substantial ministers of tlie Lord Jesus. Through all the fluctuations of the times, for more than half a century, while many have changed, some have withdrawn, and others have fallen from the faith, these men of God have stood firm. The fruit of the labors this world will never fully appreciate nor understand. The next will bring it all to light; and when, on glory's banks, the seals of their ministry shall be called for, what a happy throng will stand up to say, "These men were they who turned our straying into heaven's flowery road!" my soul ! Shall such a poor, unprofitable, unworthy being as T be there ! This Sabbath was a day of mercy to my soul. 290 MEMOKIALS OF I^RISON LIFE. Monday, Sept. 1. The day was devoted to conference business. Tuesday. This is the last day of conference; and to- morrow morning I leave for Columbus. Wednesday. This morning early I started for home, in company with Rev. David Young. Thursday. The day was spent in resting and visiting with my conference brethren and other friends. Friday. Very early this morning I resumed my work again in my interesting charge. I found that my absence had endeared me to my people. They received me with open arms ; and never did I feel more like making sacrifices for their good. The remainder of this day, and all of Saturday, were spent in making a thorough re-examination of the discipline of the prison, a subject often upon my thoughts; and though 1 have, here and tliere tlirough this volume, given out remarks in relation to this all-important topic, I have just thrown togetlier the cliief of my reflections upon the subject, and will here present them to the reader, to supply the lack of incidents for this week. The reader of tlie present work will do me the justice to admit, that, from my long connection with the pi'ison, as moral instructor, I Jiave enjoyed peculiar advantages in de- termining what is the best mode of disciphne to be pursued in regard to the prisoners. They have, as a general thing, unfolded to me their personal sorrows and difficulties — theii trials of mind and their fears and hopes of heart ; and, so far as I have been able to discern, they have proved them- selves susceptible of emotions of kindness and tenderness. I have consequently been impelled to the conclusion, tliat, under a proper course of discipline, by far the greater num- ber of them are capable of change and reformation. Before entering strictly upon the question of prison disci- pline, the reader will bear with me while I refer to some of MBMOBIALS OF PRISON LIFE, 29 J ihe causes which impel to crime throughout our country, and which especially prevail at the present day. First, 1 name a system of lax family government. Industry and obedience are prime virtues in every well-regulated family. Where these are absent, there we find anarchy and misrule. The boy who is allowed to set at defiance the word of his father, or his mother, will feel equally at liberty to set at de- fiance the laws and commands of his country. And the youth Avho is permitted to lounge around the street-corners, or in cofi'ee-bouses, smoking a cigar or sipping a glass of liquor, will, as he grows up, become nothing else but a street loafer, intent on nothing e.\cept villany and theft. A great many children of the present day seem to come up just as they please. As to restraint or discipline, they probably know nothing about either of the words. Their parents educate them just about as they educate their cows or their horses ; and tl)at is, without one particle of moral principle being infused into their natures. What marvel, then, is it, that these self-indulged, headstrong, yet greatly conceited boys, should make rapid strides in the course of sin, and land themselves safe in the state prison? I re- peat, then, that the want of pious parents and faithful guard- ians is a fruitful cause of crime in our midst, and one which adds wonderfully to the growth in numbers of our peniten- tiary inmates. Secondly, I name as a positive and direct cause in pro- ducing crime, and consequently distress and misery, the making and vending of spirituous liquors. Long as we have men in our midst to sell liquor, just so long may we expect to have iniquit}' and crime. The rum-seller, of all other wretches, is the greatest murderer. We have men in this prison for hfe who are guilty of murdering one man ; but the rum-seller kills his half a dozen or twenty, and yet he goes unpunished, and almost unthought of. Here is a fair specimen of his way of operating: On the seventeenth 292 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. of January, 1846, as I learn from an item in the Dayton Transcript, coroner Henderson was called to hold an inquest over the bodj^ of a man, found dead, near the town of Lib- erty, in Montgomery county, Ohio. The deceased was an intemperate man, and on the day previous to his death was at the tavern kept by H. Cain, on the Eaton pike, wliere, according to the testimony before the coroner, he was fur- nished with liquor to drink. He started home quite drunk, with his bottle filled, and was found dead in a fence-corner, on Mr. Metsgar's farm, about a mile distant from the place where his murderer lived. His murderer, I say ; for where is the difference between murdering a man with whisky and murdering a man with a bowie-knife or pistol? The latter accomplishes it rather more speedily, yet not more certainly, than the former. On this point, and as incontestible evi- dence of the prolific cause of crime by liquor, I have only to add, that of four hundred and ninety-eight convicts in this prison, three hundred and thirty-three were in a state of complete or partial intoxication when they committed the crimes which caused their arrest and imprisonment. But to return. The great object of imprisonment is to protect community, and to reform the prisoner. How shall the latter object be attained ? By austerity and harshness? By severe and cruel discipline? I think not. "No man," says Cowper, " was ever scolded out of his sins." No pris- oner was ever whipped out of guilt. Yet it was formerly the practice, and in hmited cases is the practice yet, to cm ploy all manner of harsh means in effecting the reform ot piisoners. From the journal of Edward Augustus Ken- dall, Esq., published in 1819, I copy the following descrip- tion of Newgate prison, situated in the town of Granby, Connecticut. "Ascending," says Mr. Kendall, " the western side of West Mountain, I discovered at length the walls of the prison rising gray upon the brow. On the east side the road was skirted at a small distance by lofty, precipitous MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 293 crags, and on the west by extensive valleys, Avith mountains in the distance. The prison walls were by the road-side. The prisoners in the jail are kept at hard work in the smithy, within the walls. They commence their labors at four o'clock in the morning, and close at four in the evening. The landlord recommended that I should witness their first appearance in the morning, to which I acceded. It is the plan of this establishment to make it an object of terror. Several of the higher crimes are punished by confinement for life ; while for lesser, the duration is limited to a certain term of years. While confined, however, every prisoner partakes of the common fate. On being admitted into the jail, I found a sentry under arms, within the gate, and eight soldiers drawn up in a line in front of the jailer's house. A bell summoning the prisoners to work had already rung, and in a few moments they began to make their appearance. They came in irregular numbers, two or three together, and sometimes one alone. But whenever they went to pass through the yard to the smithy, the soldiers were ordered to present, in readiness to fire. The prisoners were heavily loaded with irons, secured by hand-cuffs and fetters ; and being unable to walk, they made their way -by short jumps. On entering the shop some went to the side of their forges, where collars, dependent from the roof by iron chains, were fastened round their necks, and others were chained in pairs to wheelbarrows. " From all its arrangements, this establishment is designed to be a terror to the convict ; and every thing about it is so contrived as to make life as burdensome and miserable as possible. The place chosen for this prison is no other than the mouth of a forsaken copper mine, of which the excava- tions are employed for cells. They are descended by a shaft, which is secured by a trap door, within the jailer's house, which stands upon the mouth of the mine. This door being lifted up, I went down on an iron ladder. 294 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. perpendicularly fixed, to the depth of fifty feet. From the foot of the ladder a rough, narrow way, or passage, descends still deeper, till it terminates at a well of clear water, over which is an air shaft seventy feet in height, and guarded at its mouth by a hatch ol iron. The cells are near the well, but at difierent depths beneath the surface — none, perhaps, exceeding sixty feet. They are small and rugged, and ac- commodated with wooden berths and some straw. The straw was wet, and there was much humidity in every part of this obscure region. Into these cells the prisoners are dismissed at four o'clock in the afternoon, every day, without exception, and at all seasons of the year. They descend in their fetters and hand-cufts, and at four in the morning they ascend the iron ladder, climbing it as well as they can by the aid of their fettered limbs. Going again to the smith or work-shop, I found the attendant of the prison delivering pickled pork for the dinners of the prisoners, and pieces were given separately to the parties at each forge. They were thrown on the floor, as to dogs, and left to be washed and boiled in the water used for cooling the iron wrought in the forges." Such is the seat and the scene of punishment provided by a Christian community for men not guilty of murder, treason, or any of a few other capital offenses. What judg- ment the reader will pass upon it, I will not venture to say ; but I cannot myself get rid of the impression, that there is something very much like savage cruelty, both in the device and the design. A humane visitor will call in question the rec- titude of persons by whom these convicts are placed ;n this prison. Every circumstance of pain, every ragged projec- tion on the walls, every broken and dangerous part of the descent, the narrowness and obscurity of the cells — all will offend his judgment and humane feelings, rather than amuse his fancy. lie never will be able to understand how good men can occupy themselves in the invention of MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 295 circumstances of so much affliction and distress. This kind of treatment always adds to the depravity of the heart Prisoners are treated precisely as tigers are treated in a menagerie ; and what marvel if they evince the ferocity of a tiger ? Should any one coolly ask, with what vievr this system of jiunishment is kept up, the answer must be, either to reform or to punish the prisoner. If it be to reform, it is, then, one of the most foolish and imbecile of all projects. If it be to punish, it is one of the most inhuman of all plans, which the ingenuity and cruelty of man combined could contrive to torture his fellow. The following enactment is sufficient to show the feelincr which is exercised toward convicts in prison : " Be it farther enacted, that at the expiration of the term of confinement for which any prisoner is or may be sentenced to Newgate prison, if it appear by the warrant of commit- ment that he is ordered to stand committed until the cost be paid, and such prisoner shall not be able to pay the cost, or to secure the same to the acceptance of the overseer of said prison; in such case the officers of said prison are hereby empowered to assign such prisoner in service to some inhabitant of this state, or of any of the United States, for such term as they shall judge necessary to pay such cost, taking reasonable security of such inhabitant to pay the same to the state." Comment is here unnecessary. The enactment is an in- sult to the common sense of every citizen of the American republic, and is worthy only the darkest days of barbarism. We leave the reader to his own reflections on the disci- pline of this prison, satisfied that his feelings will utterly revolt at such policy in the government of human beings. The following is an extract from the report of the direct- ors of the Mount Pleasant prison, N. Y., made January 6, 1846, 296 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. Jolin S. Mattocks, assistant keeper, says that in one case a convict, by name of Kinton, was punished for desertion, he thinks, with from one hundred and fifty to two hundred lashes, with a cat, on the naked back. This instrument ha^■ing six strands, inflicts six lashes for every stroke, which would have made for this prisoner twelve hundred lashes. His back was much lacerated and mangled. Mr. Mattocks says that at another time he saAv a black man punished by a keeper named Burns, in the cooper shop, with three hun- dred strokes of the cat, or eighteen hundred distinct lashes. In consequence of the dreadful laceration on the back and legs, he was unable to walk or to work, and was shut up in his cell, on a low diet, and afterward became deranged. The agent or warden, and his deputy, were both present at this whipping. Witness says he once gave thirty-five lashes with a raw-hide on a man who simply, in one instance, would not do what he was told to do. Lawrence Van Buren, one of the keepers, says that there was a colored man in the prison, known positively to be crazy, and who, for the sim- ple act of talking and making a noise in his cell, at night, was taken out on several successive mornings, and whipped until his clothes stuck in blood upon his body. A second instance is given in regard to Mr. Van Buren. For disobe- dience, in a solitary instance, said Van Buren kicked down and tramped upon a convict until he was unable to rise. Said convict, a day or two after, was kicked by said Van Buren until the convict's arm was broken. Prisoner died shortly afterward. Jackson Urmy says that he had charge of the convicts m the lock and blacksmith shops, and that it was a common practice for Wilts, the contractor's agent, to pinoh and pull the ears of the convicts, and by kicks and blows, in all pos- sible ways, to abuse them. Witness testifies that he has seen from thirty to fifty lashes, with the cat, given on the backs of prisoners, for smiling and speaking to one another. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 297 and always from ten to twenty strokes for looking off their work. Witness further states that he has frequently seen guards inflict from twenty to forty strokes on a convict, and report but ten. Daniel W. Odell, guard for seven years, says that he knew a convict, named Judson, who effected an escape, but was recaptured, and then punished with six hundred lashes on his bare back. Three days subsequently, the prisoner committed suicide, by drowning himself. The same witness saw T. J. Carmichael strike a convict with an iron- bound rule, three feet long, upon the head; and the wound was so severe that he was confined many days to the hospi- tal, before he was recovered sufficiently to work. Another guard, Peter R. Crum, has seen convicts cruelly beaten with canes, sticks, hoop-poles, etc., and this more than once. A prisoner named Orange, in the Sing Sing prison, N. Y., once picked up a quarrel with a fellow-convict, and, in con- sequence, was ordered to the hall to be punished. The prisoner refused to go, alledging that he had been twice flogged already, and he had done nothing deserving punish- ment; for he was acting simply in self-defense; and said he would not submit himself to the lash without being allowed a word, and appealed to the warden. Upon this the guard struck him on the head with a club, and called for Mr. El- dridge. The prisoner was then granted five minutes to go to the hall ; but still refusing, he was driven along at the p-;jit of the bayonet. The prisoner retreated and ran into his cell, where he was mangled by the bayonets, and shot in the wrist by the discharge of a pistol. The officers then caught the poor wretch by the feet, dragged him out, and tied him up, while three of them whipped him ; and this concluded, they loaded him with irons and confined him in a close cell for eight months, allowing him nothing but bread and water. I have given the reader the above as specimens of the 298 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. foraier mode of governing our penitentiaries and prisons While there was no humanity shown to the prisoners, there could of course be no reform ; and the very method of treat- ing them while in confinement served only to render them the more desperately wicked and dangerous when sent forth again into society. From these lamentable accounts given of prison discipline, the reader will readily perceive that the reformation of the criminal was a subject that never entered the minds of those Avith Avhom was the execution of the laws. Many benevolent men considered that the criminal deserved all this cruelty ; for the curse of crime tainted his character, and the law secluded him from the public eye. Within the dungeon walls, the shrinking culprit found only a set of merciless beings, more abandoned than himself. II was a disgrace to our laws that such men were appointed to administer justice — men who gloried in their power and exercised it in such a licentious way. Suppose the Creator should thus deal with his human creatures : what, I ask, would be the condition of man ? All our race would ere now have been banished from his presence and shut up in liell. Such, however, is not the government of God ; for, though we have sinned against him in a thousand times ten thousand ways, he mercifully bears with us. He conquers our rebellion, not by unkind- ness, but by his long-suffering and unexampled goodness. Let us, my readers, learn of him to be merciful, and to re- claim offenders by our love and forbearance. Some hearts in all ages have beat with sympathy for the afflicted and the guilty. Since Howard's time, a new era has commenced. Societies have been organized in some of our larger cities, for the purpose of inquiring into the con dition of prisons and improving their discipline. Such associations have been formed in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia; and already their influence has been felt. A better state of things is rapidly taking place. Legislators MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 299 have been awakened to the importance of securing a better discipline for prisons, and of requiring a more humane treat- ment of the prisoners. Legal enactments have been made to ameliorate the condition and improve the morals of convicts. Inhuman keepers have been dismissed from their places, and men of a different character appointed in their etead. The complete reformation of the guilty man is now one of the great objects of a benevolent community ; but this reform is to be effected only by the power and influence of the Holy Spirit. Men may talk of bettering their con- dition by their own agency ; but their efforts will be fruit- less and barren. The criminal may be deterred by circum- stances around him from committing vulgar crimes; but grace alone, by working a change in the heart, will accom- plish a thorough reformation. The means of grace are, therefore, necessary, and should be fully allowed to every inmate of our state prisons. Here let me express my views on this subject freely. And first : it appears to me that there is a great defect in our criminal code, which greatly retards the reformation of the prisoner — and this is the abuse of the pardoning power. Its frequent exercise seems to be almost absolutely neces- sary, however, in such cases as those where severe sentences have been pronounced on convicts for minor offenses: for example, ten years of hard labor for passing a few coun- terfeit dollars, or four years for stealing a young calf. Whenever the punishment is disproportioned to the crime there is a manifest injustice done ; and it becomes a duty in the chief magistrate to exercise his pardoning power. Fre- quently the bearing of a prisoner at the bar upon trial has some influence upon the sentence of the court; and the "extenuating circumstances" are developed sometimes in the halls of justice which mitigate the rigor of the punish- ment. Few could believe that there is such a disparity in the length of the sentence for the same crimes, unless they 2rt 300 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. were acquainted with the usual course of judicial procedure, dnd were admitted to read the prison registers. The court sliould have discretionary power, of course; but the usual latitude they possess is too great. If the laws were so amended as to make all crimes, except manslaughter, arson, murder, and rape, punishable with confinement in the peni- tentiary from one to four years, and no pardon to be granted except upon the recommendation of the court where the criminal was tried, and from evidence of inno- cence in the person convicted, there would be much greater tendency to produce a reformation than under the present system, and prevent to a greater degree the commission of crimes. Under the present laws, from the time a m^n is convicted he is strongly encouraged to hope for pardon. His attorney and his friends tell him his confinement will be transient; but he lingers in the prison with the expectation of release, until " the hope deferred which maketh the heart sick" gives way to settled despair and gloomy melancholy. Had the prisoner no expectation of being pardoned when he entered the prison, no buoyant hopes would have been blasted — no bad passions would have been stirred up; but, with a contented spirit, he would have waited patiently until the hour which proclaimed the captive free. If one is pardoned it excites discontent in the others; and I have seen this prison so convulsed with this kind of excitement, that it seemed useless to make any efforts to calm them; and to labor with them so as to accomplish any good was impossible. Again : there is now a great inducement to commit crime. Those who are inclined to perform wicked deeds reason thus: "If I do this thing I have three chances out of four that I will escape. If I am detected I may not be convicted ; and if I am convicted I have friends, and they will interest themselves in my behalf, and I will be par- doned." Such are the fruits of this system. I have no MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 301 doubt that tlie best policy would be to pass light sentences and grant no pardons, except in cases where an innocent man is imprisoned. In this way only can a reformation be effected upon the criminal. If punishment Avere the sole object in confining a convict, prisons might be abandoned, and the whipping-post, the branding irons, and the pillory substituted in their place. The very name of penitentiary carries with it the object of its foundation — a place for the prisoner to learn the lessons of repentance and reformation. To accomplish this work the moral instructor should have the privilege of using the means of grace with the convicts, of preaching to them the Gospel, of reading the word of God, of holding with them social prayer meetings, and administering the sacraments of baptism and the Lord's supper to such as are qualified to receive them. Until this is sanctioned by the legislature and those who have the management of prisons, there will not be half the good accomplished as if it were tolerated and approved. Sev- eral men have applied to me for baptism, who, I had no doubt, had experienced a change of heart through faith in Christ ; but I dared not administer the rite, for popular sentiment was against it. I have seen seasons of God's visitations in the conviction of those men, when, if I had been at liberty V^ call them to a mourners' bench or a prayer meeting, I have no doubt but several would have been converted. Whep talking seriously of the communion of the Lord's supper, the prisoner has often been met with the objection, "But you are in a penitentiary, and public opinion is against you. You cannot participate in the full means of grace and the free blessings of the Gospel, because you have been a sinner." I trust in God that the day is not far distant when the penitentiary will become a place of glo- rious revivals, and thousands of convicts taste of the riches of grace, and go forth into the world, like the demoniac of 302 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. the tombs, in their right minds, to tell their families and friends what great things the Lord has done for them There is nothing to prevent this but the contracted viewt and prejudices which the managers and directors of pnsons have of religion. They are afraid of a noise, or of their popularity — so much, that all things must be done just according to their own views and feelings. A cold ha- ran4iich would be about nine hundred barrels of extra work. With this money I purchased the prisoner, for his own use, twenty-one vol- umes of good, useful books. This shows how great a stimulus a small pittance would be, if it were authorized by law. If all the prisoners who are able to perform a good day's work were engaged at forty cents a day and expenses paid, out of which they should receive five cents if they labor faithfully, and nothing at all if they do a deficient day's Avork, the officers would have less trouble in obtaining the required amount of labor from the prisoners. The con- tractor as well as the prisoner would be a gainer by this plan. At the end of five years the convict would have the sum of seventy-eight dollars and twenty-five cents; and this would furni.sh him with decent clothes and give him a little start in the world. Boys and young men ought to be put to some branch of mechanical business which would afford them a respectable living. I have heard a great deal said about the worthless- ness of convict labor, and much grumbling on account of the very little done by prisoners; but I have seen no con- Irarto who does not hold on to them with great pertinacity. J MEMORIAL* OF PRISON LIFE. 309 and is always anxious to increase the number. I have lived amongst them for three years, and I never saw men work harder or more constantly. There ought to be a thorough overhauHng in this matter. The personal benefit of the convict as well as the good and safety of the community demands it. It is unwise to expect devotion to any occupation without some object in view, or some personal interest to be sub- served; for these lie at the foundation of all voluntary industry. Under the present law the convict derives noth- ing whatever for his ingenuity or his workmanship, and he, therefore, has no inducements to exertion. In the labor to which he is appointed his wishes are not consulted at all ; and he is assigned some employment not always congenial to his taste, and one which gives him no scope for improving himself. He is thus cut off from all the leading motives which impel civil society. On the other hand there is no condition of life in which an act of kindness or an expression of sympathy is more deeply felt or more gratefully appre- ciated. A single word or look of pity bestowed upon one of these unfortunate creatures, weighed down as he is by the conviction of disgrace, will be engraven on his heart, and cherished for months or years with a constancy of gratitude known only by them upon whose ears the accents of consolation seldom fall. It is to tlm means that the prison authorities have to look for the security of their autJiority, and the obedience and industry of the prisoners.. The consequences of the former discipline and the policy which has been so long prevalent — namely, that there is no hope of reforming a convict over eighteen years old ; that fear is the only susceptibility which can be appealed to in Iheir government ; that no misdemeanor shall be forgiven, but in every case punished — can easily be told, t^very page of the history of prisons under this iron administra- tion is filled with the details of disobedience, desperation, dlO MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. rebellion, and insanity among the convicts. All inducements to obedience and industry were withdrawn by the officers to whom they were subjected ; their most sacred feelings were wantonly violated ; and but one thing must follow such a treatment while human nature exists. Convicts will en- deavor to extinguish in themselves those feelings which tend to aggravate their sufferings. When treated like brutes, they will naturally court the insensibility of brutes. They will become vindictive and revengeful, and take every op- portunity to gratify their resentment by destroying the life or the property of their persecutors. They will labor, merely to escape punishment; and just as little as will secure this end. They will display as little skill as possible, in order to diminish the amount of labor and the profits of their overseers. They will occasion to their products what- ever damage they suppose will be attributed to their igno- rance or inexperience. Nor has it been, by any means, unfrequent for them deliberately to maim themselves in order to escape the tyranny of the shops. Now, in the sight of the experience of so many years, will it not be wickedness and more than folly to throw away the only incentive which can be offered to the convict for his industry and his labor — a kind and gentle treatment ? Then let the officers of the prisons exercise that forbearance and mercy which the misfortunes of the prisoner entitle him to. I cannot but mention another evil of our prison economy ; and that is, the present mode of employing the convicts in the service of contractors. It introduces into the prisons a class of persons — either the contractors themselves or their af'cnts — whose sole interest is their own pecuniary advan- tage. They naturally regard the prisoners as so much capiUtl, to which they have an exclusive right, and they sometimes seem to think that the discipline and arrange- ments of the prison should be framed with exclusive refer- ence to themselves. The regulations of the prison are good MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFB. 811 or bad, just as their business is more or less profitable. Selfishness is so much more clamorous than benevolence, that Us voice silences all other claims. The natural result is, that ability to labor, rather than moral worth, becomes the sUmdard of excellence with the contractors and overseers. Convicts have the same feelings as other men, and can be influenced by the same motives. This fact should be remembered by the officers of prisons ; for it is always unjust to inflict unnecessary punishments and impose un- necessary burdens upon human beings. Man's better judg- ment and conscience will tell him so. Here let me say something as to the effect the punish- ment of the lash has on those who are in the habit of inflicting it upon criminals and others. It has a deteriorating influence on all those who engage in it, and degrades all who become its ministers. It tends to the destruction of all honorable feelings in those who pursue it, as in the convicts Avho are the subjects of it. To morality, virtue, or praiseworthy sentiments, it has no affinity. Being exclu- sively the offspring of animal propensity, its unavoidable effect is to brutalize those who are daily concerned in it ; and in exact proportion as it renders them animals, it makes them less men. It is a foe to benevolence, and, therefore, obliterates those finer sympathies and charities of human nature, which are among the most valuable safeguards to •nrtue. I never knew one who engaged in this work, but lost all that constitutes an amiable and good man. Tht ajypointment of Wardens. — This matter has been too little attended to. Many candidates offer their services, and the character and qualifications of a man have but little weight in the selection. The one selected must belong to the dominant party in politics, and he may be- the defeated candidate for some other office. He may not have a single qualification for so important a trust. The benefit of ihe inmates, or their reformation, may not enter into the account. 812 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. The very purpose of a penitentiary is at once d'efeaied, because of the choice of an improper man for warden. It is most evident that a wise and judicious administration can only be had by the appointment of a man fitted by nature and habit for the important duties required in such a station A mere political appointment affords no security tliat he can fill the place given him. Experience has clearly demon- strated this. Whoever, for the last twenty years, has watched the administration of prison discipline, cannot but have observed that the objects of imprisonment in the peni- tentiary have failed to a great extent. The security of the public, in the reformation of the prisoners, can never be made certain while the appointment of warden is a political thing and in the hands of political men. Who can help being convinced, that the power to elect the officers of prisons should belong to other men than time-serving poli- ticians, if we would secure a proper administration of dis- cipline, the reformation of the convict, and the security of society ? Duties of the Directors or Insjyectors. — The duties of directors are limited. They have the appointment of the officers, and are required to look into the conduct of the warden and his management of the financial affiurs of the prison, and examine his accounts. Since the public is very sensitive on the subject of dollars and cents, this is almos< the only thing which occupies their attention. The trust confided to the directors should not be confined to the appointment of officers, and to dollars and cents; but they should be constantly observant of every thing that trans- pires within the walls. The administration of the prison discipline is under their control, and the conduct of every officer should be subjected to a strict examination. The manner in which the prisoners are worked by the contractors, or their agents, should be looked to, and no MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFB. 313 imposition allowed to be practiced upon the lieipless convict ; since he has no means to help himself, except through the directors. The emploj'ment of a man may injure his health and endanger his life, if continued, and he has no redress. The contractors pay for his labor, and it must be done, kill or not kill. Ever)' regulation of the prison ought to be closely in- spected by the directors, or else they will not have fully discharged their duty. The health, comfort, clothing, food, and treatment of the convict are intrusted to them, and to them only. Instead of visiting the prison but once in three months, and then in a very hurried manner, they should spend days at a time within its walls, and, as far as possi- ble, become acquainted with the prisoners, their wants, and their treatment, and see that no abuses either of officers or conti-actors go unredressed. TJiis is the only way in which prisons can be managed so as to accomplish the great pur- poses for which they were instituted. And a most ligid inquiry should be made into the reason why so many of the inmates of prisons become insane. There must be a cause for this, and it should be known ; and I think it might be, if suitable measures were taken by the proper authority to discover it. It is lamentable to see so many men losing their reason; and a suitable apartment should be fitted up in every prison for their confinement, if they cannot be sent to the lunatic asylum. To see a fellow-being, deprived of his reason, shut up in a dark cell, and treated like a wild beast, is appalling to the sensibilities of a philanthropist and a Christian, There is another thing which ought to be speedily reme- died; and that is, incarcerating children in a penitentiary with old convicts. It is humiliating to see boys, of from thirteen to eighteen years of age, thus degraded. These children were led off in an evil hour by bad associations — perhaps from want of parents, or from training — who, by a 314 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIJb'E. milder course of treatment, might have been reclaimed without being exposed to the disgrace of a state prison, and oearing it through all subsequent life. Instead of asso- ciating them with old and hardened criminals, they should DC placed under the charge of good men, who will give them such instruction as will rescue them from vice and strengthen them in morality, store their minds -with useful knowledge, and teach them some business by which they can sustain themselves honestly. Parents do not know how soon their own sons may be led into crime, and fall victims to evil habits, and become the inmates of prisons. There- fore ought they to insist that some other mode of treatment should be adopted for the youth and juvenile offenders. Let this matter be taken in hand and early concluded : we owe this to them and ourselves. There are few things which have a more destroying influ- ence upon the mind of the convict, than to feel that he is lost to liis friends and relatives for ever. This is the last hope, "that if all ihe world casts me off and frowns upon me, I have yet a father, a mother, a brother, or sister, who sympathizes with me, and still feels for me, and will befriend me." Such is the constitution of human nature, that it cannot sustain itself if it have nothing to bear it up. If left without hope and friendship, the convict becomes wild, desperate, and deranged. It is a duty never to throw away a relative because he has gone so far astray as to become a felon and forleit his liberty. It may be that the prisoner has relations who walk abroad guilty of much greater Crimea than he himself — some whom all men respect, while they condemn the convict with disgrace. Our Lord gave this doctrine a very handsome reproof in the thirteenth chapter of St. Luke, speaking of the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices, and those upon wliom the tower of Siloam fell: "Think ye that they were sinners aK->ve all men ? I tell you, nay ; but except ye repent, ye MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 3 IS f^Iiall all likt,vvise perish." And in the tenth chaptei and twenty-tifth verse of the same Gospel, the Savior holds a much more interesting conversation with a proud Pharisee lawyer with respect to the duty we owe to one another: "A certain man fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him '^alf dead." Reader, your own son, or husband, or brother, may be, by bad associations and evil habits, has fallen among thieves, who have stripped him of his good character and standing in society ; till, covered with disgrace, he is thrust into prison. By remorse and a painful sense of his degra- dation, his wounds remain open, while his former friends and acquaintances go by on one side ; and on the other pass his offended relatives, whose proud hearts are deeply pierced with the supposed disgrace brought upon them by one of their own family. It remains for some stranger to give comfort to the poor outcast, and pour into his wounds the Avine and oil of their consolation. Now, let me ask, which will gain the most credit, and most enjoy the favor of the public, and best meet the Divine approbation — the parent, or brother, or sister, or connection, who, like the priest and the Levite, pass on the other side, or he who acts the part of the good Samaritan? 1 have seen distress, bordering almost upon insanity, arising from the convicts' receiving no intelligence from their friends: and many have been the letters I have writ- ten to their friends, urging them to Avrite, and give the prisoners some assurance that they are not lost for ever. 1 think it cruel to withhold from them this stream of mercy. A poor man in this prison had Avritten again and agam to his brother, and no answer had been recei\ed, until he was so depressed and cast down that he became almost distracted. I wrote to his brother, and reproved him severely for his want of kindness. In a short time a letter was received; and when I met the prisoner in the yard the 316 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. gloom had passed off his countenance, and he was in an ecstasy. " Father Finley," said he, " I have glorious news to tell you. I have got a letter from my brother, and he speaks kindly of me;" and then the tears flowed like drops of rain over his manly countenance. His brother had at last poured into his bosom the consolation he was dying to receive. I have uniformly remarked that the prisoners, who have the sympathies of tlieir friends, and who often receive encouraging letters from their relatives, are the happiest and most contented men, and, Avhat is of more importance, are the most likelj to reform ; and the reason is simply this : the anchor of hope keeps their heads above water. Let the convict but once know that, if he reforms his life and condwcts himself properly, his sins will not only be forgiven but forgotten, that when his term of confinement is expired his friends will receive him with open arms, and he has the greatest inducement to reform his character. Those who have a relative or friend in prison can be powerful auxiliaries in his reformation ; and they should never let any length of time pass without writing to him. There is a monstrous error in public sentiment, in regard to men who have been caught in some misdemeanor and thrust into prison, simply because they are thus stamped with disgrace for life. Men will not associate with them nor afford them any encouragement to obtain an honest living, but Avill frequently even discountenance them. Thus many are put to the necessity of stealing in order to sustain life. These sticklers about honorable standing in society may, and no doubt do, clasp to their bosoms men a thousand times worse than the convict, and yet, because they have never been detected in tlie commission of crime, are none the less guilty. Here is a man who, by inordinate love of prain, has been tempted to pass a counterfeit ten-dollar bill, or forge an order for ten dollars. He is arrested, and serveu MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 317 from three to five years in the state prison. He is branded as a convict and treated with contempt. But there is your wealthy neighbor, who distills alcohol and vends the poison- ous cup, filling his coffers with the groans of broken-hearted Avives or the tears of starving children. Every beam and every brick in his house has been bought with the blood of his fellows. He has been the means of peopling the peni- tentiaries, poor-houses, and asylums. But while it is written in capitals over the gates of heaven, "No drunkard shall enter here," there are those who still persist in entailing misery and death upon their fellows ; and yet they pass for "respectable men." God forbid that they should be so considered by the sober-minded part of community! There is no estimating the evil done by such men ; and, if actions were measured by their consequences, this re- spectable vender of liquid poison would be in the prison, suftering alike with the victim of his cupidity. But habit blinds the understanding, perverts the judgment, and recon- ciles man to many absurdities. It is related of Bonaparte that, as he was walking over the field of battle immediately after an action, amid the screams and groans of the dying, he saw, unmoved, the wife of a soldier weeping over his dead and mangled body ; but when he saw a faithful spaniel howling over the corpse of his master, he burst into tears. The first spectacle he could survey calmly, but he could not resist the second. Just so it is with the community. They can hang a man for taking the life of another, or send him to the state prison for stealing a calf; but the rumseller may slay thousands upon thousands, and yet be a clever, good man. May God have mercy upon our iniquities! If the great object of imprisonment is to protect commu- nity and reform the convicts, the purest moral example should always be before them. To make the prisoners labor on the Sabbath will lessen the force of all teaching; for there is no more fruitful source of crime than the dese- 318 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. cration of the Lord's day. To require of them on this day to shave the guards, cut hair, black shoes, and perform such offices is very detrimental to their reform, and ought never to be permitted by the superintendent, or warden. The keepers should never be allowed to trade with them ; and if they engage a prisoner to do any work for them, they ought in every case to be compelled to do him justice. I have known some transactions of this sort, where justice was not rendered, and much dissatisfaction Avas caused, and the prisoner rendered unhappy or revengeful. No man is fit to be a keeper, unless he be honest. Contractors and their agents often do much harm by their oppression and con- temptuous treatment. Sometimes they are very pompous and tyrannical in governing; and thus they provoke resent- ment and stir up every evil passion. There are few men in this world who are fit to govern ; and no man is calculated to be a ruler who has not learned to be a subject. If, then, the object of imprisonment is to be attained, care must be had in the selection of those men for officers, by whose example and precepts the convicts can be taught and trained in virtue. And now, in closing my remarks on prison discipline and what should be done to reform the prisoner, of all things it is most desirable with a discharged convict that he should not feel his hold on society is lost, and that he is to be discarded and shunned, now that he has passed the penalty of the law and is restored again to the world. If the respectable man shuns him and treats him with disrespect, he will shun the respectable man, and seek society among tlie prolligate and abandoned, and perhaps be driven to the haunts of vice. A prison life has not destroyed his social nature. He cannot live alone in the world; and if he has made good resolutions and determined to lead a virtuous life, how chilling and disheartening must be the frowns and repulses of the good ! He must have great firmness, if he can sustain this coldness and contempt. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 319 Prisoners are not always worse for having been prisoners, nor are they always the most guilty men. Many kind and generous hearts are found among them ; men of talents and enterprise, who become reformed, and leave prison as wor- thy of confidence and encouragement as the reformed ine- briate. If the principles which have been so successfully applied to the drunkard were applied to the prisoner, there would be fewer relapses into crime, and fewer recommit- ments. A man is now sometimes glad to return to prison to avoid the hostilities of the world, and to obtain those means of subsistence which he cannot always procure abroad. The reform in prison discipline should discard all party- colored garments, the lock-step, and the shaven head Confidence should take the place of suspicion with all ex- cept the incorrigible, who ought, by some means, to be separated from the others, that their contaminating influ- ence may be avoided. The sentences of the law are leni- ent compared with the practice in some piisons. To be confined to hard labor is far less dewradinof than the disci- pline which keeps upon a convict the evidence of his hu- miliation, in the very dress which he wears. He is con- stantly subjected to the want of good food, the violence of petty officers, the disgusting garments, the filth of the damp cell, and the vermin which infest his bed. This is a much severer punishment than the sentence of the law, and this is the condition of things which calls loudly for a reform ; and I hope that the time has now come in which it can be effected. It is reasonable that the prisoner should have every com fort compatible with his situation. It is a far greater suffer- ing to have a deficiency of food, or food of a bad quality, than to do the labor imposed upon him. Who does not prefer to work all day, rather than sleep all day on a bed infested with vermin of every sort? These inflictions form 320 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. no part of his sentence, and if he suffers these, his punisL- ment, by far, exceeds the amount prescribed by law. Give him good food, frequent ablutions, clean beds, kind treat- ment, religious instruction, friendly advice, the comforts of a pure atmosphere, and the blessings of the clear light of heaven — none of which are forbidden by law — and they will make his situation comfortabl'^, and will influence his life and conduct through all coming time. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 321 CHAPTER XXI. ■ Goiivcrsion of a female prisoner — A termagant — A splendid sijrht — Disquiet of the convicts — Interception of a letter — Its full details — Folly of attempting to escape — Letters from liberated convicts — A spirited epistle — A second from A. C. — Letter from J. D.— Letter from J. A. B. S.— Letter from L. G.— Letter from J. M. G. — Letter from a converted man — A piece of poetry — Close of the week. The present day (Sabbath, September 13) was a day to be remembered. It ivill be remembered by many a soul. We bad a large company of visitors. I spoke from Acts iii, 19. About three o'clock, I called together, for the first time, those prisoners who had made a profession of religiou since I was appointed chaplain to the prison. They were, indeed, all who made any such profession at all, so far as I know. After receiving and seating them, I formed them into a religious class, somewhat according to the Discipline of the Methodist Episcopal Church. It was, truly, a very glorious spectacle — such a spectacle, I imagine, as no prison ever Avitnessed since the days of Paul and Silas. The ex- periences given in by the converted convicts were, in every case, clear and conclusive, and in some intensely thrilling. Could the reader have looked in upon them, and seen their pale countenances lighted up by the beams of hope, and be- held the tears of joy running down their cheeks, and heard the shouts of thanksgiving and the songs of triumph sent up from the bottom of their hearts, it would have inspired his own soul with unearthly feelings. Captain Bradford, the deputy warden, who was present with us, declared that he had never dreamed of the power of the Gospel, till he saw these prisoners praising God. We have now made the beffinninof of a Church within ♦.he walls of this gloomy prison. We have no sectarian 322 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. organization, in any respect whatever; so that my suc- cessor, to whatsoever denomination lie may belong, wil' find every thing perfectly open and facile to his hand. While, both he and I would wis^i to see the great prin- ciples of Christianity taking root among these men, neither, provided we are persons of even moderate common sense, would think of introducing any peculiar system into such a place as this. I was now called to visit the female department. A woman there had sent fur me. I went and found her in a high state of enjoyment. She had been seeking religion for several months ; and she now believed that God had pardoned all her sins, and adopted her into his family. Her companions were weeping around her. She was, evi- dentl}', a difierent woman from what she had been. Monday, September 14. To-day a woman, tlie perfect opposite of the one last-named, defied all the officers, and even swore that God never made the man able to conquer her. The guard brought her some victuals, "Go and feed the devil!" said the woman. "No," replied the officer, "I would rather starve him, and feed you." "Well, eat it yourself, then," she responded. "No, I would have you eat it, for you have eaten nothing to-day," answered the guard. The woman caught a heavy tin dipper and hurled it with all her might and fury at the guard's head ; but he stooped and evrided the missile. She then rushed to a pitched bat- vie; but it was of short duration. The warden ordered her to be locked up in her coll; and, as I stood ijy tlie door of it, I heard her pr.ay God to send her immediately to hell, which, she said, was a better place than a penitentiary. Such was this abandoned woman — an example of the truth often spoken, that woman, -when degraded, is far worst than man. She was not deranged, but demonized. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 323 Tuesday, September 15. I sallied out quite early this morning, without any definite plan of procedure, but with an eye out for any sort of adventure among my people. 1 found that many were disquieting themselves by plans of escape. A letter had just been intercepted, which a pris- oner had written to his wife ; and, that he may see how foolish is the hope of some, while the plans of others are full of genius, I will furnish the reader with the letter, by which he can form his own judgment of the less intel- lectual of our convicts : " Ohio Penitentiarrj, September 13, 1846. "My Dear Wife, — I take this opportunity of writing to you a few lines to let you know I am well ; and I trust these will find you well. I have been expecting you for two months, and longing to see you, but in vain. I have a plan — if you cannot get me pardoned — to make my escape. I want you to get a two-horse wagon, well covered, and send it here to work at drawing saddle-tree stuff, or hoop- poles. I am employed in carrying staves and the litter from the cooper shop; and I can get in the covered wagon and go out of the gate at any time. Get Moses to come with his team. Teams are coming in and going out every hour. He will not have to work here more than three or four days before I shall be free as a bird. Be careful who you make a friend of; and when Moses comes in with a load, let him keep close to the north wall, then east to the east wall. When he turns to go back, let him drive between the blacksmith shop and the cooper shop. If Moses does not come, you had better come witli the person you may get. You must come to the prison that I may see you; and this shall be a sign that the plan is ready. I want you to bring my clothes, my big rifle, with the molds and flask, and my watch. Fix another pair of pants; for a man will go out with me. Make me a pair of pants of ^hat gray cloth, if you have it. Bring some 28 a24 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. money. As soon as we get out, we can send you a plenty to live upon. Buy me two cheap caps, and bring an old coverlet to throw over me in the wagon. Do not bring the clothes to the prison, but hide them in the woods where we can easily find them. I have no doubt about our getting out in this way ; and if you are not along, when I can I will «end for you. " Your husband, D. G." This, reader, is a spec-men of the ill- contrived plans which are constantly in progress, or in conception, among the more ignorant, and stupid, and uneasy of our convicts. Such a plan, of course, would be sure at any time to prove a failure; but some of these fellows have no more sense than to think that they are not watched narrowly every step they take. Because the guard appears to be careless, and they do not see his eye following them everywhere, they imagine they are not noticed ; whereas they cannot be gone two minutes longer than usual from their place, or on any out-door duty, without awakening immediate suspicion. Wednesday. I have to-day been reading letters sent me from prisoners who have obtained their liberty. They are exceedingly interesting to me, who knew the authors oi them within these walls, where their spirits were greatly depressed within them. To obtain liberty, after being incar- cerated for years in such a place as this is, is enough to throw life and animation into any man. Some of these let- ters are examples of the effect of this change of situation ; others are more sober; while all are interesting for peculiar traits and circumstances. The reader who has seen these men in prison, may be pleased to follow a few of them, as specimens of the rest, into the great world toward which they have had, while confined, such ardent longings ; and I will, therefore, lay before him a few of the numerous com- munications sent me from various sections of the country. .* tnist the reader will overlook the allusions made to myself MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 32P in them, or remember the explanation already given of the reason why they make such allusions ; and I must, in justice to myself, remark, that, not only now, but throughout the volume, I have selected such matter as would least ofena against propriety in this particular. The following letter is full of animation. It is given in the words of the original, which, in fact, could be hardly bettered : "New York, Oct. 10. "Reverend Sir, — I improve the present opportunity of writing you a few lines, believing that you take an interest in my welfare, that will always render a relation of my doings and whereabouts matters acceptable when you have no weightier affairs to engross your time or attention. "It is one month this day since I left Columbus, and the exciting scenes and changes I have passed through in that interval have been almost sufficient to serve an ordinary indi- vidual a lifetime. My journey across the movmtains was as pleasant as ordinarily occurs in summer ; our coach was not too much crowded, and our company seemed to manifest a disposition to make the most of circumstances, and by a spirit of amenity and good fellowship render themselves mu- tually agreeable. " The third evening after leaving Columbus I was floating upon the bosom of the broad Chesapeake Bay, and in a few hours coursing up the Delaware. These Avere places that have long been familiar to me. I bared my head to the ocean breeze, and welcomed its rude caresses as those of an old friend I had known, long since, in earlier and happier days, ere sorrows and misfortunes had blighted the brightest and fairest hopes that fancy had beguiled the onset of my career in life with, and ere experience had taught me that faithful and truthful lesson, that man is doomed to dis- appointments ; that the spectre of uncertainty is a con- stant attendant through life ; first hovering over his cr'adle 326 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE slumbers, then darkening the warm noon of his manhood, and accompanying him in the evening of his decline. "Language,, sir, is inadequate to describe the mingled feelings and emotions I experienced. For more than five years I had been an alien from the world and the friends in whose embraces a few hours would place me. Now I was as free as the breeze that came joyously careering across the moonlit wave, to welcome me again to the scenes I had known in earlier and happier days. Memory was busy in reviving the past, with its brilliant lights intermingled with its dark and sombre clouds. You recollect the old proverb : 'Out of the fullness of the heart the mouth speaketh.' I, sir, afforded no exemplification of the truth of this assertion. My heart was too full for speaking; and tears alone, warm, gushing tears, were all that could relieve its swelling emo- tions. '• I arrived in Philadelphia early on Sunday morning ; and, as I had not slept since leaving Columbus, I went to bed and obtained a few hours' rest previously to calling upon my brother. I found him and his family in good health. My advent amongst them on Sunday seemed to take them somewhat by surprise ; yet it was one of a joyful character; and in their happy home I soon ceased to think of the pri- vations of the past. " I remained there near ten days, and came on to New York, which I find the same busy, bustling babel, I have always known — still growing in size, and increasing in popu- lation, ui.til it will rival its sisters of Europe. I find that my business has suffered much during my absence; so much so that I find it imperatively necessary to engage in active business to insure an honorable livelihood. This, however, js no hardship to me, as idleness would never comport with mv ideas of propriety, believing the just and beneficent (Jreator has wisely ordained labor as an essential requisite, •n order to enjoy and appreciate the blessings he bestows as MEMOKIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 327 a reward. And, happily for mo, my philosophy of temper slill stands as a friendly aid to sustain me in this time of dis- appointment ; and in looking about me I can see thousands I believe arc worse off than I am, and the number is very few that I would really exchange situations with. " Now do not imagine that I am getting pharisaical, and in any way striving to exalt myself above my fellow-men ; but I rather feel, if 1 know my own heart, that the all-wise Being who created me has purposes in view that it is no part of my business to attempt fathoming; and resignation, with a contented and perfect reliance upon his goodness, leaves the mind much freer to enjoy the blessings of life, than a fretful and peevish temperament, constantly murmur- inor and repining at its unfortunate lot, can ever bestow. I am one of that class of men that always feel a disposition to make the most of life, and, in whatever situation I may be placed, endeavor to render myself as happy and con- tented as circumstances will allow. It is no spirit of bra- vado that induces me to assert that I was even happy in the situation in which our acquaintanceship first commenced. True, I was in a situation where the world generally suppose hope can never enter ; and my name was branded with op- probrium and disgrace. I knew it was unmerited ; that misfortune, not crime, had placed me there ; and that truth would some day appear in my vindication before the world. With that consciousness, I was in some degree contented ; and in contributing to alleviate the miseries and sufferings of my fellows in misfortune, I experienced the high gratifi- cation that conscious rectitude of purpose and exalted benevolence in the cause of suffering humanity can alone bestow. I even in tliat pkce had seasons of pure enjoy- ment and true happiness. And when life draws near to its close, and the scenes of time begin to mingle with those of eternity, I know not that the remembrance of the time there spent will occasion one pang of regret. To the best of my M'b MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. feeble abilities, I endeavored to render strict justice to all. in the discharge of my duties; and if I in any instance failed in so doing, it was an error of judgment, and not of feeling or intention. " I shall always be happy to hear from you and learn the success that attends your labors in your situation there, and take a deep interest in the Avelfare of those so lately ray un- fortunate companions. " I am anxious to know how the library and hospital de- partment progress. You will be sure to receive a valuable accession to the book department from me, most probably during the next month. " Give my respects to all my friends about the institution, and elsewhere in the vicinity, particularly the warden and family, Mr. M'Elvain ; and do not forget General Patterson and family, as I suppose you see them often. I would like to be remembered to all my companions in adversity. Of the propriety of this request, however, you must be the judge, as I am ignorant of the rules and regulations at pres- ent existing. For yourself you will be pleased to accept my thanks for past kindness ; and believe me to be, ever, your sincere friend and well-wisher, A. C. F." The next communication is from a person who had awaked a great deal of sympathy and kindness in the public before his liberation: " Cincinnati, Dec. 14. " Dear Sir, — I take this opportunity of informing you that at this present time I am in the enjoyment of good health, having met with no misfortune .since my exit from confinement. I feel in duty bound to raise my heart in grateful prayer and praise to the Giver of all good for bia unbounded and unmerited goodness to so vile, so unworthy a wretch. "Arrived in Cincinnati, I forthwith waited upon BIr. G. To my surprise I met with rather a cool reception. Since MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 329 we last met, Mr. G. had formed a very unfavorable opinion of all liberated prisoners. Having had frequent oppor- tunities of observing the profligate and licentious conduct of some who have been liberated, he very naturally came to the conclusion, that they were unworthy of trust. I sought employment the remainder of the day, without being able to find any. This was my first night in Cin- cinnati. I retired to rest somewhat disheartened. After commending myself to the all-wise and benevolent Creator of all, and the enjoyment of a night's rest, the morning's dawn found me again in pursuit of employment. About ten o'clock this day, when least looking, and almost ready to abandon the hope of obtaining employment at my trade, the Lord saw fit to crown my efforts with success ; and I am at present at work on Front-street, above Pike. I have called three times to see Dr. E., but have not seen him, owing to his absence from town. Remember me to all my friends and well-Avishers ; but more especially to those who took so active a part in procuring my release from those gloomy walls. Mr. G. sends his esteetn and best wishes to Mr. B., and all inquiring friends. " May these few lines find you in that degree of health which is so necessary for bodily comfort ! But, above all, may you be in the constant enjoyment of spiritual hfe and health ! Be not weary in laboring for the spiritual health and comfort of those Avho, through Divine goodness, for- bearance, and long-suffering, are still left to your guidance and guardianship; and may the God of peace, truth, and righteousness bountifully reward you, both in time and eternity! Again permit me to crave an interest in your prayers. " Permit me to subscribe myself, your most obedient and unworthy servant, A. C." The third is from an individual in good condition in the world, who, by the way, is supposed never to have 330 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. committed the crime for which he was punished. It reads as follows: "Fehruarrj 26. "Reverexd Sir, — You will excuse the liberty I take in thus addressing you; but I am satisfied that I can never repay you for the interest you took in my behalf, whilst a prisoner. Language would fail to repay your kindness and assiduity, in a temporal as well as a spiritual point of view I am confident that those persons that you have charge of will bless you whilst they live, unless some of them are given over to hardness of heart. May God, in his infinite mercy, accompany your preaching, until there is not one left to advocate the cause of sin or Satan, but until all shall turn to God, who alone can comfort them under their pres- ent circumstances! "For my own part, I can truly say, that I can never forget your preaching. Every day I talk and think about you. I have seen you in my dreams as plain as if you were present. I think you pray for me sometimes. I have prayed without ceasing, since I saw you ; and when I pray, you are always present. 0, sir, I hope and trust you will pray for me! I have not joined the Church yet, but I will the first opportunity that I have; and I hope ever to live the life of a Christian, by the help of God's grace. I believe I have more friends now than I ever had. The poople are satisfied, with the exception of those persons who took a very active part against us, or those who swore against us. When we returned home, we were greeted by our friends, and upward of two hundred of our fellow- citizens, who welcomed us home, and passed many resolu- tions in regard to our persecution and afflictions. I hope God will forgive my enemies, and bring them to a knowl- edge of the truth as it is in Christ. " You will please give my best respects to Captain Tirad- ford and Mr. Sallow. I hope, when you have time, you MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 331 will write me a few lines. It would give me more satis- faction than almost any thing else. I am much gratified to learn that the prisoners' cells will be lighted up after night ; also, that that awful lock-step is abolished. I think, if you continue for some years longer, you will make that prison a blessing, in place of a curse. I hope God, in his infinite mercy, will give you many happy days to live, and many souls for your hire. Mr. S. and family are well. He says he will write you soon. He is entirely reformed. He has never tasted any kind of ardent spirits since he came out. He has for ever shaken hands Avith King Alcohol. Mr. S. is also well, and has commenced practicing in the same neighborhood. Direct to Milliners- ville, Guernsey county. No more ; but I remain yours, re- spectfully, until death, J. D. "P. S. I have seen in my last week's paper, that there was a bill before the upper house to relieve me from the costs of the prosecution, and also a number of petitioners to the Legislature to that purpose; but I do not think a bill will pass this session, but I hope it will finally pass. I also see there has been nothing done for some time, owing to the split in the senate. You will please write me when you have time." The fourth letter, though short, exhibits a spirit felt by many convicts after their liberation : "New Orleans, La., December 11. "Reverend and Dear Sir, — Before leaving Columbus, 1 received a letter from my friends, stating that they were aj' still alive, and enjoying good health, and their great jc-y in hearing of me, and pressing me to come home. My intention was to go home, when I left Columbus ; but, taking every thing into consideration, I thought best to work in this place some six or seven months first, so as to be able to pay my debts, and go genteelly home. 1 landed here on the twelfth day of November, and commenced 29 332 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. work on the thirteenth of the same month, at ten dollars a week clear of all expenses, save washing — cash every Satur- day night. "I am enjoying excellent health, and, with the blessing of God, will do well. I think about the first of Jime next I will retui-n home. Remember me at the throne of grace. I want to make every day a day of preparation for eternity I know my time here is near a close. " Give my best wishes to Mr. and Mrs. Dewey and Capt, Bradford. Please write to me and let me know how you are all getting on, and accept my most heart-felt thanks and best wishes. "Your very humble servant, James A. B. S." The father of a large family, and, with the exception of the disgrace of imprisonment, always a very respectable man, and now a very good man, though illiterate, is the autiior of the followinir letter: "Brown County, State of Ohio, September 19. "Honored and Reverend Sir, — As I have just been reading in my paper — the Advocate — and seeing your name mentioned so often, I felt that, by the help of God, I must write you a few lines to let you know a little about my healtli and the health of my family. As it respects my health, it has not been good since harvest; but I thank God it is no worse than what it is. I believe that working so hard in the hot sun, and not being used to it, was the cause of it. I have something like the dyspepsy; but I thank God that I am able to work a Httle to support my family, for just a few weeks ago I got through a job of work of building a mill, at one dollar per day. A few days since 1 Bowed twelve acres of wheat and barley, and I have as much moie to sow if my blessed Master will enable me to do it. My two oldest boys are sick at this time with the chills and fever. My companion and the rest of my family are in good health, and send their best love to you with MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFB. 338 iiat of yoar humble servant, hoping that these few indif- ferently-written lines will find you and yours, and all my friends about that place, enjoying good health of body and peace with God. "P'ather Finley, God, through his bountiful goodness, has wonderfully blessed your unworthy brother. My wife has a fine son, born on the fourth day of August. We call his name James W. Finley G. I hardly ever look at the child but I think of you, hoping, if it is the Lord's will to spare him to be a man, that he may be a good one. I have wished often that you could see him. " This is the third letter I have written to you. I have received but one from you and one from Gen. John Patter- son. He mentioned you in his letter. This was a great comfort to me to hear from you, unworthy as I feel myself in that respect. You will please write a few lines to your unworthy servant, and let me know how you are getting along with my brethren, and let me know how many of them have turned out on the Lord's side, and how many prisoners altogether. You will please excuse me for not writing sooner. " We have had some good meetings among us, and espe- cially at our class meetings. I am sorry you did not send brother Holmes back to us again; but still I hope that we will have good preachers on our circuit. My old father-in- law is dead. He was struck with the palsy, and died on the 18th of August; and I am afraid he died as he lived, foi he did not like to talk on the subject of religion ; so it is unknown to me what was in his heart, for part of the time he was speechless; therefore I dare not judge. "I hope you do not want a line to assure you of the love I have for you, for I do love God and all his people. May the Lord almighty bless you and strengthen you in your old days, and enable you to do much good in that place ; and may he also reward you in blessings that are far supe- 334 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. rior to gold or silver, for your kindness toward me, a poor, unworthy worm of the dust ! You will please excuse the shortness of my letter and my bad spelling, as it is seldom 1 write. "As poor, weak a creature as I am, yet, glory be to God ! I still feel encouraged to pray on, for I do know that there is a reality in religion, and I have no desire in the least to turn back to the beggarly elements of this world; nor do my companion and children, as far as I know. I must come to a close. We all join in love to you all, and all the Israel of God, and ray sincere prayer is, that if we never meet again in this world, we may all meet in heaven, there to praise God and the Lamb for ever and ever. "L. G." If any man thinks our officers, by rough discipline and bad usage of their charge, get the ill-will of the prisoners, the following, which is only one out of hundreds, will cor- rect the misapprehension : "Hilhhoro, March 11. " Rev. J. B. Finley, — After my respects to you, my father in the Lord, I feel thankful that I am favored with the privilege of writing a few lines to you, to let you know ray circumstances. I am well and hearty, and I hope when these lines come to hand they may find you enjoying God's favor in like raanner. When I left Columbus I came straight here before I tried for work; and when I got here I had no trouble in getting work. I am working at cabinet-making with a nice man, who is a member of the Methodist Church, and is called a very respectable man ; and when I deter- mined to work for him I told him that I had just got out of the state prison, and that I did not want to deceive any one, for I thought that the truth was the best, and he commended me for it. And he says that he wants me to live with him four or five years if I will, and I have con- cluded to take him up. And now I must inform you that MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 335 I have joined the Church, and I have enlisted for the whole war; and I want you, if you please, to tell my fellow- prisoners not to put off the great things of eternity, for now is the best time that they will ever have ; and if a man gets religion while he is there, then he is prepared to go into society, and the community at large receives him with joy. I want you tell them for me, that I send them my love. You Avill please to give my compliments to the warden and my kind officers, one and all ; kind, I call them, for such they were, and I shall always respect them for their behavior to me ; and I want you to write to me as soon as you get this, and let me know how you are. Nothing more at present, but I remain your son in the Lord until death ; and if we shall never meet in this world, I hope we shall meet in heaven above. James M. G." The world would not suppose, I presume, that such a gloomy place as the Ohio penitentiary would be a place at all congenial to the muses ; but some of the convicts do, occasionally, make attempts at belles-lettres compositions. And even to pay court at the airy portals of poesy. I have seen quite a number of poetical pieces, of no mean merit, from the hands of different convicts; but the most of them, If not all, were written for friends at home, and are now beyond my reach. Several hymns have been produced here, and sung by the prisoners, which would not dishonor the fame of many a literary spirit ; but I have not one of Uiem now by me. The following poetical sketch is the only one that happens to be now in my possession; and, without claiming too much for it, I think the reader will say, that he has seen worse poetry in some of our most popular literary magazines. The prevailing characteristics of the periodical poetry of ihe times is mere rhyme, or jingle, without sense or con- nection. I do not say this to discourage any one who is a poetaster from using his quill on foolscap, if he feels so 836 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. disposed. I only state it as a fact, witli which many arc painfully conversant. But here follows the article : PAST AND FUTURE. BY A raiSONER. Full twenty years from thee have fled, To join the ocean of the past; And each has left, while on it sped. Some token that through life will last — A memory of good or ill. Unlike the ones that most we meet, They linger in the bosom still — The bitter minghid with the SAveet; Nor time nor distance can efface The feelings twenty years will trace. What airy castles hope has formed. And gilded with a sunbeam's ray I How oft hath fervid fancy warmed O'er joys that in perspective lay. Till all around enchantment seemed. Like Eden's bright and sinless boAver ! Such happy dreams are often dreamed In youth and childhood's sunny hour. Ere dark and bliglitiiig sorrows come. And Hope, affrighted, leaves her home. When twenty years again shall bring Time's ever-changing scenes to view, Hope still may soar on tireless wing, "To paint a future bright for you; But where will then the friends be found, That greet thee now in joy and mirth ? Perchance in church-yards' hallowed ground They slumber with their mother earth; But grant to all it may be given To meet with Thee at last in heaven ! Thursday. I spent this day in visiting the different shops and the hospital. Friday. This day was given to the sick„ Saturday. Being somewhat indisposed, I took the day for rest, for reading, for meditation, that I might be the bettf;r prepared for the solemn responsibilities of the coming Sabbath. MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 337 CHAPTER XXII. Sermon — Counterfeiting — Recognition of a former conrict — In- quiring friends — Father Mitchell — The Sabbath school — Introduc- tion of Longking's Notes — Death of a female convict — An acci- dent — An opportunity for escape unimproved — The Sabbath — A sad story — Discharge of six prisoners — Two cases of interest — Re- turn of a youth — Morning meditations — Quotation from Charles Wesley — Hopeless death of a prisoner — News from a prisoner in Santa Fe — Tavo convicts in Columbus on a visit — Christmas — Tlic New Year — More departures — Stealing a dollar — Sermon — Sched- ule from ai: officer of the prison — A rebellion — Recapture and re- turn of a deserter — Letter from a convict — Female depravity — The Sabbath — An old sinner — Liquor-selling — An intelligent prison- er — Mother and Son — Conclusion. Sabbath, September 20. A day of great power among all the prisoners. I preached from Luke xiii, 6 : "A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard," etc. The at- tendance of visitors was very large, and scarcely an eye was left unmoistened, either amongst them or the poor convicts. Monday morning, Sept. 2L I held an interview with a prisoner, who made some astounding revelations to me re- specting the methods and the men employed in counterfeiting. Monday, 28. I started for Cincinnati, where I arrived on Tuesday. I met here with one of my prison converts. He is in the path of dut}', and is doing well. From his pas- tor I learned that he had been admitted on trial in the Methodist Episcopal Church. May God bring him to the rest of the faithful in heaven ! Numerous persons, principally relatives of prisoners, visited me to-day, making inquiries about sons and brothers, fathers and husbands, who were in the prison at Columbus. I talked with them, and gave t\iem all the information in my possession ; but 0, what sorrow, what marks of grief were written in their countenances, and how even did they feel the disgrace of their relatives, as question after question they asked me ! 538 MEMORIALS UJF PRISON LIFE. While in the city I met with that venerable man of God, Rev. Samuel Mitchell, father of our cx-Book Agent, Rev. John T. Mitchell, of Cincinnati. He left Virginia, where his early hfe was spent, on account of his opposition to slavery. He now lives in Platteville, Wisconsin. He was fifty years a local minister of the Methodist Episcopal Chm-ch, and is now about eighty-six years old, having been sixty-five years a child of God and Methodism. He was the well-tried and well-beloved friend of Bishop M'Kendree. His heart and his feelings are still true to the Church of his early choice. Monday, Oct. 5. Started to see my family, from whom I had been separated over ten weeks. Found them all well, and trusting in God. After a brief stay I returned to my charge, at Columbus, where I arrived, and was received with undisguised welcome and affection. Sabbath, Oct. 18. I introduced Longking's Questions and Notes into our Sabbath school, which proved a great help to us. No one can conceive the great advantage our school has been to the piisoners. An eloquent address on tem- perance, by Samuel Galloway, Esq., Secretary of the state of Ohio, was delivered to-day. It made a deep impression. Tuesday. To-day I fell into a conversation with a young man, a native of North Wales, Europe. He related to me, in detail, the history of his life — the substance of which was, that his mother dying when he was quite small, he was put under the care of some of his i-elatives. His father left for Liverpool, while he remained in Wales, to grow up as he pleased. He soon got to stealing, was detected and whipped, and then sent to his father, in England. Here he became no better; but kept up his practice of thieving. He finally stole some money from his father, ran off from nome, and .shipped for America. Here his old habits fol- lowed him, and for some crime against our laws he found a lodgment in this prison. jLhis, my young friends, you see MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 339 is the regular way to disgrace and ruin. No man sins his life and liberty away all at once. It is a gradual work ; and not until a man is at the end of his course of iniquity is he willino- to look buck at the commencement. Beware of the becrinninfjs of evil. Wednesday. Mrs. D. died to-day. Poor woman! She was the worst of her species. I have frequently heard her say thdt she would much rather be in hell than in the prison. And, dreadful to admit, she is reaping the desire of her heart in that world where "the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched." Thursday. One of the prisoners barely escaped with his life to-day. The crane at the stone quarry fell, with an immense stone, a distance of thirty feet, into the pit ; and incredible as it may seem, but one man of all those engaged in the quarry was injured. His head and body were mangled shockingly. One of the prisoners ran for the doctor, and then three miles, alone, to the prison for help. He could easily have escaped ; but it appears that he had no disposi- tion to avail himself of the opportunity. He is a clever, good-natured, and sober man ; and if any one merits a pardon, he does most unquestionably. Sabbath, Nov. 1. A day of great peace to my soul. The Lord of hosts was with us in the preaching of his word. Tuesday. I conversed with a boy named S., respecting hio moral condition and early education. He stated that he became an orphan at the age of two years. Thus alone in the world, and with none to care for him but strangers, he grew up ignorant and irreligious. At the age of eighteen he could not read a chapter in the Bible. In the neighbor- hood where he lived were two men who were always quar- reling with each other. One morning, as he was sauntering toward school, one of these men met him, and told him tlial he would give him a young horse and fifty dollars in cash. 310 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. if he would set his hated neiglibor's liousc on fire " This/ said ihe young man, " througli the persuasion of the man, was more than I could refuse. A good horse, saddled and bridled, Avith fifty dollars in money, was an immense fortune in my eyes. So, without any reflection upon the crime I was committing, I rushed into the house, which at the time was vacant, and fired the kitchen. Not until the whole house was in flames did I feel the enormity of my guilt. My conscience then arose like a giant, and I felt as though a mountain was pressing on me. The wretch who instigated me to the deed now oft'ered me more than the original sum of money if I would not tell on him. But, no — the truth, the whole truth, I told right out, and felt the better lor it. After my trial the prosecuting attorney made a speech in my behalf, recommending the judges to sentence me only for a short period. The man escaped: I was sentenced for two years — all of which you know I have served out, save seven days." The young man who gave me this narrative, I am happy to say, became radically reformed in all his character while in prison. In a short time he learned to read, and, by the grace of God upon his heart, he was enabled to lead a life of peace and happiness. Thursday. During the week ending to-day six prisoners have gone out, four by the e.xpiration of their terms of commitment and two by the governor's pardon. Two of the four, who had sei'ved out their time, were foreigners, for whom I felt a deep solicitude. Both professed to be reformed, though I must own that I felt some misgivings for the elder one, whose previous habits of intoxication ■would possibly lead him into a snare again. He had, how- ever — and the reader ought to know it — been a praying man for more than a year, and he promised me he would avoid temptation and try to save his immortal soul. The other was quite a lad, who actually felt scared when he got MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 341 to the big iron gate, with only one suit of thin clothes and four dollars in his pocket, and peeped out into the world, from which for many long and weary months he had been shut up, and into which he was now about to plunge. I parted with them in tears, commending them to the mercy of the Lord Jesus Christ. Saturday. The boy who left on Thursday came back to-day to see me. He wanted a recommendation to some Christian Church, as, he said, he felt lonely in the world, and nobody seemed disposed to care for him or give him any thing to do. How cruel, let me repeat it, how utterly cruel is it, thus to thrust men from this penitentiary into a community where they are unknown, and where, if known, they are almost certain to suffer for want of employment! When will the time come for us to have places where dis- charged convicts can go and get work, and where a fair compensation for their labor will be given; so that while ihey are exercising their bodies, they will not be ruining their souls, and paving their way back to a second incarce- ration in the prison? Sabbath, November 15. This morning, in reading the seventy-eighth Psalm, from the thirty-fourth to the fortieth verse, I was overwhelmed with the conduct of Israel and iheir great backslidings from God. I prostrated myself upon my knees, and prayed to my Maker that he would enable me wholly to consecrate myself to his service. Those inimitable lines, by Charles Wesley, on tlie Divine mercy, came to my mind. Here is a verse or two: " Kindled his relentings are, Me he now delights to spare: Cries, 'How shall I give thee up?' Lets the lifted thunder drop. There for me the Savior stands; Shows his wounds, and spreads his bands; God is love ! I know, I feel, Jesus weeps, and loves me still." 342 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. Thursday, November 2G. "We lost one of our prisonei-a by death to-day. He came in last summer, and at the time was suflfering from pulmonary consumption. Soon after his commitment he was confined to his bed, from which h« never rose again. It was with great difficulty that I could get his mind fixed on religion, and specially upon the sub- ject of his soul's salvation. He thought he should soon recover, and that then he could attend to the matter. Alas, how many poor souls in this world thus procrastinate their return to God, live and die in their sins and their blood, and then go to reap the reward of the sinner in the world of endless night and misery! The poor fellow, feeling at last that his time was short, began to pray and ask forgive- ness of God ; but he died at last with a cloud on his mind, and with scarcely a glimmering assurance that he was going to heaven. Friday, December 4. I received a letter from D., one of our discharged prisoners. He had been imprisoned, for passing counterfeit money, for six years, all of which time he had faithfully served out. During his confinement I labored earnestly and faithfully with him for his soul's salvation, and when he left the prison he was seriously impressed, and told me that he would write me relative to his future course. His letter was written under date of September 16, Santa Fe, New Mexico. The revelations it gives of the corruptions and debaucheries of the Catholic society there, are too disgusting for recital. I wrote back D. a letter, warning him against indulgence in the prevailing sins cf the place, and advising him, as soon as practicable, to turn his footsteps elsewhere, and hunt up a living amongst honest and honorable people. Tuesday, December 8. I was informed to-day that two of my reformed young men, who had been some time pre- viously discharged, were in Columbus on a short stay. I visited them and conversed with them, and, at parting, gave MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 343 them letters of recommendation to some of my friends. They were both Church members, and were doing well in the good cause of piety. May the Lord ever have them in his merciful care and keeping ! Sunday, December 13. Our Sabbath school was unusu- ally interesting. At eleven o'clock services our room was crowded witli visitors, and the word of God had free course and was glorified. Christmas. To-day is Friday — a day of feasting and mirth with many in the world, but with us, in the walls of this lonely prison, a season of deep thought and prayer. The year is drawing to a close, and I feel a thousand thoughts of the past, pleasing and sad, rushing upon my mind. The future, too, is rising before me, and feelings of the uncertain nature of all earthly things come upon me. Here is the end of one year; but shall I live to see the close of another? Here I am, and others around me, with life, and strength, and health ; but whcie shall we all be this time next year? These are questions which none but God can ansAver. Sabbath (January 3, 1847) came to us in all the bland- ness and brightness of a spring morning. I was sent for to fill one of the pulpits of the Methodist Episcopal churches in the city — a thing which I did with extreme reluctance, as I had prepared myself to give my friends, the prisoners, a new year's discourse. Saturday, January 9. Several have been liberated this week. B. was pardoned by the president. He had been a habitual drunkard. In his native village he had been a noisy politician and a postmaster. This last position was gained by his "disinterested labors in behalf of his beloved country," as some people would tell us. In a drunken spree he broke open a letter which he supposed contained a large amount of money. In this he was disappointed. There was but a solitary one-dollar bill in the letter. His crime 844 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. immediately became known. He was arrested, tried, sen- tenced, and committed for ten years. His friends, however, anxious to have him released, petitioned the governor, and, before he had been with us five months, he was pardoned. He told me, on leaving, that he would sacredly observe the pledge he had given me, never again to taste a drop of spirituous liquors ; nevertheless, I felt perfectly satisfied that, if he but confederated once more with his former associates and companions, he would be almost certain to fau, and, as the consequence of his fall, he would be back to the peni- tentiary again. Sabbath, January 10. I preached from Revelation xx, 12. Several members of the Legislature were present. I endeavored to present to ^'iew the certainty of a future judgment, and the necessity of future rewards and punish- ments. The occasion was one of interest and, I trust, of profit to all. _ I could not help thinking and saying to the forlorn prisoners before me, that, if Universalism were true, it would be the best possible policy for the warden to mix arsenic with their soup for dinner, so that they could all go to the world of rest before the setting of the sun, and that they might not any more have to work in the shops and yards of the prison. They seemed readily to understand my meaning ; and I do not believe there was a man before me, witii the text in his mind, but that despised the doc- trine that all men — murderers and Christians — would reach the kingdom of heaven. Still, this theological mon- strosity lives in the world, and has thousands for its abettors. Tuesday, January 19. At my request one of the officers of the penitentiary drew up a schedule, showing the number of convicts in prison, their crimes, places of nativity, and the state of their education. Of the four hundred and fcrty- dve in confinement at the time the paper was drawn up, it appears that two hundred and ninety-seven could read and MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 345 write, sixty-nine could read print only, thirty-seven had learned to read since their commitment to prison, and twenty- thrive could neither read nor write. Of the male convicts, one hundred and eighty-nine were married, two hundred and forty-seven single. Of the female convicts, eight were married and one single. Of the males, three hundred and ninety were whites and forty-six colored. Of the females, seven were whites and two colored. Of the four hundred and forty-five committed, the counties of Hamilton and Cuyahoga sent one hundred and ninety-three persons — the former one hundred and forty-six, the latter forty-seven. Of ninety-one commitments made, there were sixteen for grand larceny, twenty-one for horse-stealing, seven for bur- glary, and the remaining forty-four for various offenses — such as arson, forgery, bigamy, counterfeiting, mail-rob- bery, etc. Saturday, January 23. To-day one of the convicts re- belled against the authority of an officer, and struck him with a billet of wood. The fellow is liere on his second commitment, and he is a most wretchedly-wicked man. He is one of the few of the human race over whom the power of kindness seems to have but little effect. The reader, perhaps, knows such a one somewhere in the circle of his acquaintance. They are scattered here and there through the world ; and, like a surly dog, they must be well whipped before they will submit to rule and government. I am saying but the truth wlien I record the fact, that i. large majority of the prisoners were deeply mortified to learn of the brutal conduct of their fellow- convict, and felt themselves injured rather than honored by his ferocity. Tuesday. A man by the name of R. was brought back to-day, who made his escape last summer. He was arrest- ed in Pennsylvania, at the head of the Susquehanna. Thia is the fifth escape which has occurred within the past two years ; and yet every deserter has been caught and brought 346 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. back in a short time after his desertion. R. often com- plained to me of the destitute condition of his family, and said that he wished, above every earthly thing, to go and see them ; yet he had actually traveled many hundred miles directly from the place where his family resided, which, to say the least, was not a very profound proof of the sincerity and depth of his affection. Monday, February 1. I received a letter this morning from a young man who was some months ago released from confinement, from which I learn that he is a member of a Christian Church and a teacher in the Sabbath school. The following is an extract: ^ "It is a matter of gratitude with me that my life is con- tinued to me, and that I find favor in the sight of God and man. I experienced considerable mortification and delay in obtaining work. When it became known that I was previously a penitentiary convict, some people avoided me. This rather discouraged me ; but I persevered, and endeav- ored honestly to tell the people who I was, what I had been, and what I was trying to be. As the result, I in some measure disarmed prejudice, and excited the sympathy of the more religious portion of the community. I am with a gentleman now, a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, who is a strict and consistent worshiper of the Most High. He has family prayer, at which I am permitted to attend, and teaches his children the ways of truth and righteousness. I feel to thank God for the great goodness he has shown me in placing me with such a man; and I am determined to persevere in the narrow path, until 1 arrive safely in the kingdom of holiness and happiness on high." Wednesday, February 17. I was strongly impressed to- day with the correctness of my previously-formed views respecting female depravity, while reading an account of the Sing Sing prison; though I must confess I have no MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 347 odditional fault to find with our female convicts. It is not necessary, neither would it be easy, for one to tell how it happens that female convicts are generally more obdurate than male convicts. The fact is incontestible. Among other evidences of the corruption of this class of convicts, the report of the Sing Sing prison states, that at a certain hour on a certain day of the week, four female prisoners managed to get together, and after some attempts at amuse- ment and villany, they took an oath in due form upon the Bible, that they would serve the devil and do the devil's work so long as God almighty suffered them to live! I forbear comments upon such cool blasphemy. I am aware that in giving statements like these, I shall be looked upon as relating extreme cases. I am equally aware that some will consider me as rather opposed to females. This is not the case, however, by any means. I ■wish to be honest and to talk honestly. I give plain facts, and I leave them for the reader to reflect upon, and to draw his own conclusions about, without bringing forward prejudices and biases of my own. I believe that it is only in cases where females are utterly lost, that they show their rankling corruption and malignity as they do in prisons. Sunday, February 28. This was one of the days of the Son of man. Under a deep sense of my responsibility to God, for the souls committed to my charge, I went from my closet to the chapel, and cried aloud, with Zachariah, " Turn you to the stronghold, ye prisoners of hope; even to-day do I declare that I will render double unto you." The God of Jacob was with us, and many were the tears shed and the groans uttered for sin on this occasion. Monday. I had a long talk with poor aged T. to-day. He is in his sixty-second year, and has been in prison for eighteen years. His crime was the murder of his brother in a drunken spree. He says he has no recollection what- <^ver of ha^^ng committed the crime. He is here for life, 30 848 -ijiMOUIALS OF PRISON LIFE. and of all men he is most miserable. He is the personifi* cation of despair itself; and if the reader can conceive wha*; this means, he will have a picture of this poor old man. lie complained bitterly of his confinement — ^its irksomeness and monotony; and while he talked the tears came oozing out of his sunken eyes, coursing down his furrowed cheeks, stirnng up my deepest sympathies for him. I thought if such be the irksomeness of a few years' confinement in this life, what must be the irksomeness and agony of everlasting confinement in hell ! I left him, praying God to send con- viction to his soul, and to save him from plunging into the prison-house of eternal perdition. Will the reader bear with me while I repeat, that of the commitments for life in this prison, nearly all were cases of men who committed crime while wholly or partially intoxi- cated. This is something for reflection. When will rum- sellers be viewed as they ought to be viewed — the wholesale murderers of our species ? and when will they get the just deserts of their crimes? An incident occurred to-day, which brought this matter fresh to my mind. A lad from Cincinnati called at the prison to-day to see a friend of his, also a youth, who was in confinement. The latter, through some of his associates, became intoxicated ; and while in- toxicated, he committed a theft whicli soon found him a home in Columbus, with striped clothing for his wearing apparel, and thieves and murderers for his companions. Who was more to be blamed — the wretch who sold the brandy or the boy who drank it? Thursday, March 4. I fell into a conversation'' with a convict who, for general and sound literary attainments, has few superiors in the world. He is here under aggravated circumstances, and I felt compassion for his fate ; but it was impossible for me to do any thing for him, except to offei him some religious consolation, for which he seemed grateful. Friday, March 19. We have some men in the prison, MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 349 as I have just intimated, whose literary attainments are of the first class. W. D. G. is one of this description. He enjoyed, in early life, the benefits of a common school edu- cation, and afterward spent several years in college, doing credit alike to himself and instructors. I obtained one of his letters to a distant friend, from which I make the follow- ing extract : " Dear Friend, — In accordance with a promise made to you previous to your leaving Columbus, I send you the fol- lowing lines. A piison is a dreary place — a place, the last on earth where life is to be enjoyed, and where nothing scarcely arises to break the monotony of an almost speech- less existence. To live — to live, and eat, and act, and mingle with others of our race, and yet be debarred for ever from even uttering the welcome word or ordinary salutations of friendship, is dreadful indeed; and yet just such is life within the walls of this penitentiary. Occasionally, when my day's work is done, and I am locked securely up in mj- solitary cell, I find my heart, on memory's wing, going back to the innocence and quiet of my early existence. I see before me the hills and woods, where, with youthful friends, I frolicked the joyous hours of life aAvay. I stand by the side of the stream that goes dancing along its tortuous course, and in whose waters I have dabbled, and I feel all the glow and enthusiasm of m}^ boyhood days burning within me. There, too, stands the old school-house, with the huge elm by its side, keeping off the hot sunbeams in July and August, and breaking the fierceness of the blast in December and January. But my reverie does not continue -ong. The grating of some distant iron door, or the turning of a lock upon a fellow-prisoner, reminds me that I am the inmate of dungeon walls and desolation. " The perfect isolation of a human spirit, it seems to me, is worse than death, and for this reason, that the Author of luimanity has constituted us for intercourse, and every- 350 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. whore in nature lias provided us Avitli scope and occasion to receive and communicate impulses of affection and of thought. Even in hell there is companionship. Though I would not in any sense indorse the blasphemy of the princ of blasphemers, ' Better to rule in hell than dwell in heaven,' still I would prefer misery, with associates and companions ill misery, than confinement in helpless solitude. In this latter state, a breathing man, gifted with voice and hearing, buried up in a silent, solitary sepulchre of stone, is tor- mented to utter madness by the clash of tlioughts and pas- sions that have neither aim nor object. The spontaneous phantasmagoria of the guilty spirit rise like unaccountable goblins, and it is just as impossible to repress them as it is to repress the beating of the heart or the respiratioti of the lungs. "Solitary confinement, in its most dreadful sense, thank God ! is not the characteristic of this prison, however much it may prevail elsewhere. We have here, it is true, to be locked up alone at night; but Ave have, at the same time, the privilege of conversing with the best of men, living and dead, not audibly, indeed, but through the medium of books. We have light in our cells, and a stool to sit upon, and any book that we may see fit to read. Above all, wc have a faithful chaplain to converse with, the Bible as oui constant companion, and God as the hearer of our prayers You will be surprised, I know, to hear me talk aboui prayers in a state prison. Possibly you may sneer at it, and pronounce it all a delusion. Nevertheless, it is so ; and 1 am wildly, immeasurably deluded, if real piety is not found within these gloomy walls. I do not wish to Rpeak of myself. I have been a wicked man all my days. I have served but too faithfully the great father of evil, and have forgotten the goodness and mercy of God, who has ever watched over and cared for me; but God has MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 361 never forgotten me. Recently, how often have I repeated and felt the lines of the poet : ' Tliou, -wlio dry'st the mourner's tear. How dark this world would be. If, when despised and hated here, I could not fly to thee !' The Scriptures are my chief comfort. They are always with, always delighting my soul. I cannot open on a single page but I see light and love. The parable of the prodigal son I read frequently. I cannot finish it without finding my heart subdued and softened. Our good chaplain has sometimes alluded to it in his discourses ; but the slightest comment on it puts me into an agony of tears. 0, how can my merciful and heavenly Father deign thus to touch my heart, and afterward to talk with and comfort me, who am the lowest of all his creatures ! " One thing has occupied my reflections to a great extent, of late ; and though it has no relevancy to your case, I am induced to state it to you, that some good use may be made of it by yourself, whenever opportunity occui's. It is the wickedness and folly of parental disobedience, particularly disobedience of a mother's commands. Herein, when young, I greatly erred. I loved my mother as a great many other young men respect theirs. I tried to be somewhat obe- dient ; but too frequently I treated her kindness with indif- ference, her requests with incivility, and her commands with positive disdain. I did not then consider ray course fla- grantly sinful or wrong; but my folly now, how palpable it is ! and how keenly do I suffer for it ! Will you, in your intercourse with any of my youthful acquaintances, remind them of the fact, that the surest way to ruin is through the gate of parental disobedience? Shakspeare has a fine passage, which, if I recollect rightly, runs thus : ' The poor wren. The most diminutive of birds, will flight — The young ones in her nest — against the owl.' 352 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. "The moral of this is fine. Pcarents will do any thing, undergo any sacrifices, for their offspring ; but, alas ! liow few sons and daughters are willing to requite the care of a fa'.her, and the fondness of a mother, by strict obedience to tbiir commands ! " Tell Charles, if you see him, how well off his old friend is. Friend, I say, for I hope that he still cherishes some faint regard for poor, fallen me, while he can be doubly assured that I now love him more than ever I did. "He has long been undecided on the subject of religion. Difficulties and embarrassments have always been springing up in his path. He has had impressions of a very serious nature more than once. He has, I doubt not, many a time promised himself that he would lead a different life. Like Felix, he has felt, and feared, and trembled, but has said, ' Go thy way for this time ; when I have a convenient sea- son, I will send for thee.' But he has lived on, and the convenient season has never arrived. It will never come to him. 0, how often I fear that before he is ready Death will call for him, and take him to sleep in his cold charnel-house ! How familiar, but 0, how bitterly true, the lines of Young : ' Procrastination is the thief of time — Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene I' " Do not call me enthusiastic. Do not think that he will become exasperated at my importunity. Could you feel as I feel for him, you would not rest, until you knew that he had commenced the work of repentance and salvation. "Tell him of the change that has come over me, and exhort him, by tlie mercy of Jesus Christ to yield himself entikcly to the Lord. The days of the years of our pilgnm- age are fast passing away. The dream of life will soon bo gone ; and shall we wake to immortal life or to everlasting condemnation and despair? MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. 363 "I must close. I could write more, but I fear I have .ilrcady taxed your patience too much. May I hope that you still remember me in your prayers, and that if we meet no more on earth we shall join each other in the king- dom of the redeemed ; where Christ sitteth at the right hand of the Father, exalted a priest and a Savior for ever. "Farewell, W. D. G." Saturday, March 20. A young man aged eighteen years, a native of South Carolina, was brought in to-day, he hav- ing committed grand larceny. He seemed very cool and indifferent in regard to his fate. His mother was committed along with her son, a few months since, on a charge of having stolen a horse and buggy. The lad, I found, was the one who was really the thief, but the mother, out of pure compassion for her son, took the crime on herself, and he, graceless fellow, escaped. He did not, however, stay out long. How much better it would have been for him, tem- porally and spiritually, had he remained in the prison on his original commitment! A mother frequently, in her great love for her children, does them the greatest acts of injus- tice, when she deems she is doing them the greatest good. Thursday, April 1. It is just one year to-day since my entrance as chaplain into the penitentiary of the state of Ohio. To me the year has been one of strange vicissitude. I look back with feelings of mingled pain and joy. I see in how many instances I have come short of my duty as a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I see where oppor- tunities have escaped of my doing good. I look around, and see vacant the places which some of my charge occu- pied when I came to the prison. Some are again in the busy scenes of life. Some are baffling successfully against the temptations of the world ; and are endeavoring, in the strength of God's grace, to obtain eternal life. Others, I fear, by indulging in sin, are paving their way back to the silence and solitude of this gloomy prison. Many are still 354 MEMORIALS OF PRISON LIFE. serving out their appointed time — some witli sorrowful, others with joyful hearts. I look again. Some who were with us twelve months ago are sleeping that deep and dreamless slumber to which in this world no waking comes. Above their graves the storms of life beat cold and wild. But the sleepers awake not. Death, "dread watcher of the marble corpse," has claimed tliem as his prey ; and, " dust to dust," their bodies are mingling with their mother earth. You, too, reader, have gone with me in my recital of my year's toil. You have seen how gradual is the course of crime, and how easy a thing it is to go down from honor, and innocence, and virtue, to degradation, and shame, and sorrow. Many a one in early life was buoyant with hope, who is now reaping the reward of his own undoing. And many a one now, though full of expectation and joy, by a course of crime may before a year's time be an inmate of the state prison. What a theme for reflection is here, and what need have all to guard their evil hearts against the first advances of sin ! My youthful readers, beware, let me beseech you, beware of the beginnings of evil. In tliis is your only safety. One false step may ruin you. One wrong act may keep you wrong for life. A spark is a small thing ; but a spark may kindle a conflagration. A drop is a small thing, too ; but drops make the ocean. In closing these memorials, I can but return my warmest thanks, alike to the officers of the prison and to all con- nected therewith, for the kindness and the aid shown m« fluring all my labors as chaplain. Particularly to Colonel Dewey, warden, and Captain Samuel Jirudford, dt^puty warden, do I confess my indebtedness. That God may ever have them and theirs, and all my readers, in his mer- eiful keeping, is the fervent prayer of the author. THE UND. 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