A Reformation in the Jail-To make Laws complete, they should reward did might mend some, but could itself receive no contamination

nothing by preaching. I was sorry, I said, to hear them so very profane, because they got nothing by it, but might lose a great deal: For be assured, my friends," cried I, (for you are my friends, however the world may disclaim your friendship,) though you swore a thousand oaths in a day, it would not put one penny in your purse. Then what signifies calling every moment upon the devil, and courting his friendship, since you find how scurvily he uses you? He has given you nothing here, you find, but a mouth full of oaths, and an empty belly; and, by the best accounts I have of him, he will give you nothing that's good hereafter.

"If used ill in our dealings with one man, we naturally go elsewhere. Were it not worth your while, then, just to try how you like the usage of another Master, who gives you fair promises, at least, to come to him? Surely, my friends, of all stupidity in the world, his must be the greatest, who, after robbing a house, runs to the thief taker's for protection. And yet how are you more wise? You are all seeking comfort from one that has already betrayed you; applying to a more malicious being than any thieftaker of them all; for they only decoy and then hang you; but he decoys and hangs, and, what is worst of all, will not let you loose after the hangman has done."

When I had concluded, I received the compliments of my audience, some of whom came and shook me by the hand, swearing that I was a very honest fellow, and that they desired my farther acquaintance. I therefore promised to repeat my lecture next day, and actually conceived some hopes of making a reformation here; for it had ever been my opinion, that no man was past the hour of amendment, every heart lying open to the shafts of reproof, if the archer could but take a proper aim. When I had thus satisfied my mind, I went back to my apartment, where my wife prepared a frugal meal, while Mr. Jenkinson begged leave to add his dinner to ours, and partake of the pleasure, as he was kind enough to express it, of my conversation. He had not yet seen my family, for as they came to my apartment by a door in the narrow passage already described, by this means they avoided the common prison. Jenkinson, at the first interview, therefore, seemed not a little struck with the beauty of my youngest daughter, which her pensive air contributed to heighten, and my little ones did not pass unnoticed.

"Alas! doctor," cried he, "these children are too handsome and too good for such a place as this."

· Why, Mr. Jenkinson," replied I, "thank heaven my children are pretty tolerable in morals, and if they be good, it matters little for the rest."

"I fancy, Sir," returned my fellow prisoner, " that it must give you great comfort to have all this little family about you."

"A comfort, Mr. Jenkinson!" replied I; "yes, it is indeed a comfort, and I would not be without them for all the world; for they can make a dungeon seem a palace. There is but one way in this life of wounding my happiness, and that is by injuring them."

"I am afraid then, Sir," cried he, " that I am in some measure culpable; for I think I see here (looking at my son Moses) one that I have injured, and by whom I wish to be forgiven."

My son immediately recollected his voice and features, though he had before seen him in disguise, and taking him by the hand with a smile forgave him," Yet," continued he, "I can't help wondering at what you could see in my face, to think me a proper mark for deception."

"My dear Sir," returned the other, "it was not your face, but your white stockings, and the black ribbon in your hair, that allured me. But, no disparagement to your parts. I have deceived wiser men than you in my time; and yet, with all my tricks, the blockheads have been too many for me at last."

a year. Yet still the honest man went forward without suspicion, and grew rich, while I still continued tricksy and cunning, and was poor without the consolation of being honest. However," continued he, "let me know your case, and what has brought you here; perhaps, though I have not skill to avoid a jail myself, I may extricate my friends."

In compliance with his curiosity, I informed him of the whole train of accidents and follies that had plunged me into my present troubles and my utter inability to get free.

After hearing my story, and pausing some minutes, he slapt his forehead, as if he had hit upon something material, and took his leave, saying he would try what could be done

CHAPTER XXVII.

The same subject continued.

THE next morning I communicated to my wife and children the scheme I had planned of reforming the prisoners, which they received with universal disapprobation, alleging the impossibility and impropriety of it; adding, that my endeavours would no way contribute to their amendment, but might probably disgrace my calling.

"Excuse me," returned I: "these people, however fallen, are still men! and that is a very good title to my affections. Good counsel rejected, returns to enrich the giver's bosom; and though the instruction I communicate may not mend them, yet it will assuredly mend myself. If these wretches, my children, were princes, there would be thousands ready to offer their ministry; but, in my opinion, the heart that is buried in a dungeon is as precious as that seated upon a throne. Yes, my treasures, if I can mend them I will; perhaps they will not all despise me; perhaps I may catch up even one from the gulf, and that will be great gain; for is there upon earth a gem so precious as the human soul?"

Thus saying, I left them and descended to the common prison, where I found the prisoners very merry, expecting my arrival; and each prepared with some jail-trick to play upon the doctor. Thus, as I was going to begin, one turned my wig awry, as if by accident, and then asked my pardon. A second, whe stood at some distance, had a knack of spitting through his teeth. which fell in showers upon my book. A third would cry "Amen!" in such an affected tone as gave the rest great delight. A fourth had slily picked my pocket of my spectacles. But there was one whose trick gave more universal pleasure than all the rest; for observing the manner in which I had disposed my books on the table before me, he very dexterously displaced one of them, and put an obscene jest-book of his own in the place. However, I took no notice of all this mischievous group of little beings could do, but went on, perfectly sensible that what was ridiculous in my attempt, would excite mirth only the first or second time, while what was serious would be permanent. My design succeeded, and in less than six days some were penitent, and all attentive.

It was now that I applauded my perseverance and address, at thus giving sensibility to wretches divested of every moral feeling, and now began to think of doing them temporal services also, by rendering their situation somewhat more comfortable. Their time had hitherto been divided between famine and excess, tumultuous riot and bitter repining. Their only employment was quarrelling among each other, playing at cribbage, and cutting tobacco-stoppers. From this last mode of idle industry I took the hint of setting such as chose to work, at cutting pegs for tobacconists and shoemakers, the proper wood being bought by a general subscrip "Those relation, and, when manufactured, sold by my appointment; so that each earned something every day; a trifle indeed, but sufficient to

"I suppose," cried my son, "that the narrative of such a life as yours must be extremely instructive and amusing.' Not much of either," returned Mr. Jenkinson. tions which describe the tricks and vices only of mankind, by increasing our suspicion in life, retard our success. The traveller that distrusts every person he meets, and turns back upon the ap pearance of every man that looks like a robber, seldom arrives in time at his journey's end.

"Indeed I think, from my own experience, that the knowing one is the silliest fellow under the sun. I was thought cunning from my very childhood; when but seven years old, the ladies would say that I was a perfect little man; at fourteen I knew the world, cocked my hat and loved the ladies; at twenty, though I was perfectly honest, yet every one thought me so cunning, that not one would trust me. Thus I was at last obliged to turn sharper in my own defence, and have lived ever since, my head throbbing with schemes to deceive, and my heart palpitating with fears of detection. I used often to laugh at your honest simple neighbour Flamborough, and one way or another generally cheated him once

maintain him.

I did not stop here, but instituted fines for the punishment of immorality, and rewards for peculiar industry. Thus, in less than a fortnight I had formed them into something social and humane, and had the pleasure of regarding myself as a legislator, who had brought men from their native ferocity into friendship and obedience.

And it were highly to be wished, that legislative power would thus direct the law rather to reformation than severity; that it would soon be convinced that the work of eradicating crimes is not by making punishments familiar, but formidable. Then, instead of our present prisons, which find or make men guilty, which enclose wretches for the commission of one crime, and ieturn them. if returned alive, fitted for the perpetration of thousands-we should see, as in other parts of Europe, places of penitence and

me, to permit disappointment thus to undermine a life which I
prize as my own. Be cheerful, my child, and we may yet see
happier days." "You have ever, Sir," replied she, “been kind to
me, and it adds to my pain, that I shall never have an opportunity
of sharing that happiness you promise. Happiness, I fear, is no
longer reserved for me here, and I long to be rid of a place where
I have only found distress. Indeed, Sir, I wish you would make a
proper submission to Mr. Thornhill; it may, in some measure, in-
duce him to pity you, and it will give me relief in dying."
'Never, child," replied I, "never will I be brought to acknow-
ledge my daughter a prostitute; for though the world may look
upon your offence with scorn, let it be mine to regard it as a mark
of credulity, not of guilt. My dear, I am no way miserable in this
place, however dismal it may seem; and be assured, that while you
continue to bless me by living, he shall never have my consent to
make you more wretched by marrying another."

solitude, where the accused might be attended by such as could jection, Livy? I hope, my love, you have too great a regard for give them repentance, if guilty, or new motives to virtue, if innocent. And this, but not the increasing punishments, is the way to mend a state: nor can I avoid even questioning the validity of that right which social combinations have assumed, of capitally punishing offences of a slight nature. In cases of murder their right is obvious, as it is the duty of us all, from the law of self-defence, to cut off that man who has shown a disregard for the life of another. Against such all nature rises in arms: but it is not so against him who steals my property. Natural law gives me no right to take away his life, as by that the horse he steals is as much his property as mine. If, then, I have any right, it must be from a compact made between us, that he who deprives the other of his horse shall die. But this is a false compact; because no man has a right to barter his life, any more than to take it away, as it is not his own. And besides, the compact is inadequate, and would be set aside even in a court of modern equity, as there is a great penalty for a trifling inconvenience, since it is far better that two men should live than one man should ride. But a compact that is false between two men, is equally so between a hundred or a hundred thousand; for as ten millions of circles can never make a square, so the united voice of myriads cannot lend the smallest foundation to falsehood. It is thus that reason speaks, and untutored nature says the same thing. Savages that are directed by natural law alone, are very tender of the lives of each other; they seldom shed blood but to retaliate former cruelty.

Our Saxon ancestors, fierce as they were in war, had but few executions in times of peace; and in all commencing governments, that have the point of nature still strong upon them, scarcely any crime is held capital.

It is among the citizens of a refined community, that penal laws, which are in the hands of the rich, are laid upon the poor. Government, while it grows older, seems to acquire the moroseness of age and as if our property were become dearer in proportion as it increased; as if the more enormous our wealth, the more extensive our fears, all our possessions are paled up with new edicts every day, and hung round with gibbets, to scare every invader. I cannot tell whether it is from the number of our penal laws, or the licentiousness of our people, that this country should show more convicts in a year than half the dominions of Europe united. Perhaps it is owing to both; for they mutually produce each other. When by indiscriminate penal laws a nation beholds the same punishment affixed to dissimilar degrees of guilt, from perceiving no distinction in the penalty, the people are led to lose all sense of distinction in the crime, and this distinction is the bulwark of all morality: thus the multitude of laws produces new vices, and new vices call for fresh restraints

It were to be wished, then, that power, instead of contriving new laws to punish vice, instead of drawing hard the cords of society till a convulsion came to burst them, instead of cutting away wretches as useless before we have tried their utility, instead of converting correction into vengeance, it were to be wished that we tried the restrictive arts of government, and made law the protector, but not the tyrant, of the people. We should then find that creatures whose souls are held as dross, only wanted the hand of a refiner; we should then find that creatures, now stuck up for long tortures, lest luxury should feel a momentary pang, might, if properly treated, serve to sinew the state in times of danger; that as their faces are like ours, their hearts are so too; that few minds are so base, as that perseverance cannot amend; that a man may see his last crime without dying for it; and that very little blood will serve to cement our security.

I HAD now been confined more than a fortnight, but had not, since my arrival, been visited by my dear Olivia, and I greatly longed to see her. Having communicated my wishes to my wife, the next morning the poor girl entered my apartment leaning on her sister's arm. The change which I saw in her countenance struck me. The numberless graces that once resided there were now fled, and the hand of death seemed to have moulded every feature to alarm me. Her temples were sunk, her forehead was tense, and a fatal paleness sat upon her cheek.

"I am glad to see thee, my dear," cried I, "but why this de

After the departure of my daughter, my fellow prisoner, who was by at this interview, sensibly enough expostulated upon my obstinacy, in refusing a submission which promised to give me freedom. He observed, that the rest of my family were not to be sacrificed to the peace of one child alone, and she the only one whe had offended me. Besides," added he, "I don't know if it be just thus to obstruct the union of man and wife, which you do at present, by refusing to consent to a match which you cannot hinder, but may render unhappy."

"Sir," replied I, "you are unaquainted with the man that oppresses us. I am very sensible that no submission I can make can procure me liberty even for an hour. I am told that even in this very room, a debtor of his, no later than last year, died for want. But though my submission and approbation could transfer me from hence to the most beautiful apartment he is possessed of, yet I would grant neither, as something whispers me, that it would be giving a sanction to adultery. While my daughter lives no other marriage of his shall ever be legal in my eye. Were she removed, indeed, I should be the basest of men, from any resentment of my own, to attempt putting asunder those who wish for a union. No, villain as he is, I should then wish him married, to prevent the consequences of his future debaucheries. But now, should I not be the most cruel of all fathers, to sign an instrument which must send my child to the grave merely to avoid a prison myself; and thus, to escape one pang, break my child's heart with a thousand?" He acquiesced in the justice of this answer, but could not avoid observing, that he feared my daughter's life was already too much wasted to keep me long a prisoner. 'However," continued he, “though you refuse to submit to the nephew, I hope you have no objection to laying your case before the uncle, who has the first character in the kingdom for everything that is just and good. I would advise you to send him a letter by the post, intimating all his nephew's ill usage, and, my life for it, that in three days, you shall have an answer. I thanked him for the hint, and instantly set about complying; but I wanted paper, and unluckily all our money had been laid out that morning in provisions: however, he supplied me.

For the three ensuing days, I was in a state of anxiety to know what reception my letter might meet with; but in the meartime was frequently solicited by my wife, to submit to any cont ditions rather than remain here, and every hour received repeated accounts of the decline of my daughter's health. The third day and the fourth day arrived, but I received no answer to my letter the complaints of a stranger against a favourite nephew were n way likely to succeed; so that these hopes soon vanished, like all my former. My mind, however, still supported itself, thoug confinement and bad air began to make a visible alteration in my health, and my arm that had suffered in the fire grew worse. My children, however, sat by me, and while I was stretched on my straw, read to me by turns, or listened and wept at my instruc tions. But my daughter's health declining faster than mine, every message from her contributed to increase my apprehensions and pain. The fifth morning after I had written the letter which was sent to Sir William Thornhill, I was alarmed with an account that she was speechless. Now it was that confinement was truly painful to me; my soul was bursting from its prison, to be near the pillow of my child, to comfort, to strengthen her, to receive her last wishes, and teach her soul the way to heaven. Another account came-she was expiring, and yet I was debarred the small comfort of weeping by her. My fellow prisoner, some time after, came with the last account. He bade me be patient-she was dead! The next morning he returned, and found me with my two little ones, now my only companions, who were using all their innocent efforts to comfort me. They entreated to read to me, and bade me not cry, for I was now too old to weep. "And is not my

Abduction of Sophia.

sister an angel now, papa?" cried the eldest, "and why then are you sorry for her? I wish I were an angel, out of this frightful place, if my papa were with me." "Yes," added my youngest darling, "heaven, where my sister is, is a finer place than this, and there are none but good people there, and the people here are very bad."

towards an abode that looks brighter as I approach it; this expectation cheers my afflictions, and though I leave a helpless family of orphans behind me, yet they will not be utterly forsaken; some friend, perhaps, will be found to assist them for the sake of their poor father, and some may charitably relieve them for the sake of their Heavenly Father."

Just as I spoke, my wife, whom I had not seen that day before, appeared with looks of terror, and making efforts, but unable to speak. "Why, my love," cried I, "why will you thus increase my afflictions by your own? What, though no submission can turn our severe master, though he has doomed me to die in this place of wretchedness, and though we have lost a darling child; yet still you will find comfort in your other children, when I shall be no more."

"We have indeed lost," returned she, "a darling child: my Sophia, my dearest is gone-snatched from us, carried off by

ruffians!"

"How, Madam!" cried my fellow prisoner. "Miss Sophia carried off by villains! Sure, it cannot be!"

She could only answer with a fixed look and a flood of tears. But one of the prisoner's wives, who was present, and came in with her, gave us a more distinct account; she informed us, that as my wife, my daughter, and herself, were taking a walk together, on the great road, a little way out of the village, a post-chaise quickly drove up to them, and instantly stopped. Suddenly, a well-dressed man, but not Mr. Thornhill, stepping out, clasped my daughter round the waist, and forcing her in, bade the postilion drive on, so that they were out of sight in a moment.

"Now," cried I, "the sum of my miseries is made up, nor is it in the power of anything on earth to give me another pang What! not one left! not leave me one! the monster! The child that was next my heart! she had the beauty of an angel, and almost the wisdom of an angel. But support that woman, nor let her fall. Not to leave me one!"-" Alas, my husband!" said my wife, "you seem to want comfort even more than I. Our distresses are great; but I could bear this and more, if I saw you but easy. They may take away my children, and all the world, if they leave me but you."

66

My son, who was present, attempted to moderate our grief; he bade us take comfort, for he hoped that we might still have reason to be thankful. My child," cried I, "look round the world, and see if there be any happiness left me now. Is not every ray of comfort shut out? while all our bright prospects only lie beyond the grave." "My dear father," returned he, "I hope there is still something that will give you an interval of satisfaction; for I have a letter from my brother George." "What of him, my child?" interrupted I. "Does he know our misery? I hope my boy is exempt from any part of what his wretched family suffers." "Yes, Sir," returned he, "he is perfectly gay, cheerful, and happy. His letter brings nothing but good news; he is the favourite of his colonel, who promises to procure him the very next lieutenancy that becomes vacant."

But are you sure of all this?" cried my wife; "are you sure that nothing ill has befallen my boy?" "Nothing, indeed, Madam," returned my son; "you shall see the letter, which will give you the highest pleasure; and if anything can procure you comfort. I am sure that will." "But are you sure," still repeated she, "that the letter is from himself, and that he is really so happy ""

Mr. Jenkinson interrupted their harmless prattle, by observing, that, now my daughter was no more, I should seriously think of the rest of my family, and attempt to save my own life, which was every day declining for want of necessaries and wholesome air. He added, that it was now incumbent on me to sacrifice any pride or resentment of my own to the welfare of those who depended on me for support; and that I was now, both by reason and justice, obliged to try to reconcile my landlord Heaven be praised! replied I, there is no pride left me now. I should detest my own heat, if I saw either pride or resentment lurking there. On the contrary, as my oppressor has been once my parishioner, I hope one day to present him up an unpolluted soul at the eternal tribunal. No, Sir, I have no resentment now; and though he has taken from me what I held dearer than all his treasures, though he has wrung my heart, for I am sick almost to fainting, very sick, my fellow prisoner, yet that shall never inspire me with vengeance. I am now willing Yes, Madam," replied he, "it is certainly his, and he will one to approve his marriage; and if this submission can do him any day be the credit and the support of our family." "Then I thank pleasure, let him know, that if I have done him any injury, I am providence," cried she, "that my last letter to him miscarried." sorry for it." Mr. Jenkinson took pen and ink, and wrote down" Yes, my dear," continued she, turning to me, "I will now confess, my submission nearly as I have expressed it, to which I signed that though the hand of Heaven is sore upon us in other instances, it my name. My son was employed to carry the letter to Mr. has been favourable here. By the last letter I wrote my son, Thornhill, who was then at his seat in the country. He went, which was in the bitterness of anger, I desired him, upon his and in about six hours returned with a verbal answer. He had mother's blessing, and if he had the heart of a man, to see justice some difficulty, he said, to get a sight of his landlord, as the servants done his father and sister, and avenge our cause. But thanks be were insolent and suspicious; but he accidentally saw him as he to Him who directs all things, it has miscarried, and I am at was going out upon business, preparing for his marriage, which rest." "Woman," cried I, "thou hast done very ill, and at was to be in three days. He continued to inform us that he stept another time my reproaches might have been more severe. Oh! up in the humblest manner, and delivered the letter, which when what a tremendous gulf hast thou escaped, that would have buried Mr. Thornhill had read, he said that all submission was now too both thee and him in endless ruin! Providence, indeed, has here late and unnecessary; that he had heard of our application to his been kinder to us than we to ourselves. It has reserved that son uncle, which met with the contempt it deserved; and as for the to be the father and protector of my children, when I shall be rest, that all future applications should be directed to his attorney, away. How unjustly did I complain of being stripped of every not to him. He observed, however, that as he had a very good comfort, when still I hear that he is happy, and insensible of our opinion of the discretion of the two young ladies, they might have afflictions; still kept in reserve to support his widowed mother, been the most agreeable intercessors. and to protect his brothers and sisters! But what sisters has he left? he has no sisters now: they are all gone, robbed from me, and I am undone?"-"Father," interrupted my son, "I beg you will give me leave to read this letter: I know it will please you." Upon which, with my permission, he read as follows:

'Well, Sir," said I to my fellow prisoner, "you now discover the temper of the man who oppresses me. He can at once be facetious and cruel; but let him use me as he wül, I shall soon be free, in spite of all his bolts to restrain me. I am now drawing