Page:Black Jacob, a monument of grace.djvu/45

Rh afternoon we visited the penitentiary. The prisoners were all confined to their cells, while their keepers were abroad, enjoying the freedom and recreation of the anniversary. Passing through the extended corridors, though in the midst of five hundred souls, all was silent as the grave, and no human being was visible, except here and there one leaning against the iron grate of his cell.

The chaplain conducted me to the door of Jacob's narrow apartment. He arose before its small aperture, and I had a full view of his broad African face, every line of which spoke the language of a mind and heart of no ordinary character. There was a subdued, tender, yet cheerful aspect to his countenance, as if fully conscious of what he had been, yet blessed with the conviction of a new heart, and in hope of a better state yet to come.

On learning my profession and the object of my visit, Jacob became free and cheerful in his conversation with me. While it has mostly passed from my memory,