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276 day, when I first attended, with a small party of strangers and friends, its hour of evening prayer. The richness of the surrounding landscape, the beauty of the prospect from its lofty, mural promenade, the broad, quiet river, the distant, gliding sail, the waving foliage, the hallowed spire, embosomed amid graceful elms,—all seemed to soothe the mind into calm delight, rather than prepare it for painful contemplation. But the harsh sound of locks and bolts convinced us that guilt was near,—that guilt which defaces both the fair creation and the immortal soul.

A bell struck, and the convicts came from their respective work-shops, and arranged themselves in lines in the spacious and strongly enclosed area. There they underwent a strict examination from the guard, who ascertained that none had secreted about his person any weapon of destruction or offence. It was humiliating to see powerful and athletic men holding out their arms for this search with the subdued look of a helpless child. Methought, salutary lessons might here be gathered for the young and tempted, and they be taught to wage a firmer warfare with Vice, after thus witnessing its degradation and misery.

Then each prisoner placed his hands upon the shoulders of the one who preceded him, and all marched rapidly, with the lock-step, towards the chapel. There, seated side by side, were seen the man of full strength, the boy of fourteen summers, and him of hoary hairs, who, sentenced for life, sur-