Bedfordshire; an accident (if it may be so called) were provided with the luxury of coarse mats to which towards his fiftieth year opened up to him a new course of life, was destined to benefit mankind, and, in the usual mode of speech, "to im

mortalize his name."

sleep on. Altogether the place was close and offensive; the court-yard was small; there was no chapel; and the governor had no salary, except what he could wring from his victims. At Nottingham, things were in much the same condition; the gaol was built on the declivity of a hill; down about five-and-twenty steps were three rooms for such as could pay for them; the poorer and honester prisoners were compelled to descend twelve rock for their reception, only one of which was in steps more, into a series of cells cut in the solid

use at the time-a cavern, twenty-one feet long, thirty broad, and seven feet high; in this horrible hole human beings were sometimes immured for years.

To superintend the prison and the prisoners is a part of the duty of sheriffs, though not always properly performed, if at all. Howard was not a man to neglect his duty, and he soon found one great evil which he could not remedy. He saw, he said in his introduction to his work on prisons, some persons "who by the verdict of juries were declared not guilty-some on whom the grand jury did not find such appearance of guilt as subjected them to a trial-and some whose prosecuDerby, Stafford, Warwick, Worcester, Gloutors did not appear against them, after being confined for months, dragged back to gaol, and locked cester, the counties of Herts, Wilts, Berks, Dorup again until they should pay sundry fees to the set, Hants, Sussex, with York Castle, and indeed the greater part of England, were visited in sucgaoler, the clerk of assize, &c. In order to re- cession; the miseries of the prisoner's condition, dress this hardship, I applied to the justices of the as well as the injustice of his detention. becoming county for a salary to the gaoler, in lieu of his fees." Had this been granted, it is probable that fore, he came into connection with Mr. Popham, forcibly impressed upon Howard. When, thereHoward would have been satisfied, as in the case of about to reïntroduce his bill, Howard had collected the prisoners of war, and stopped. But the bench, a mass of facts too conclusive to be opposed and though "properly affected with the grievance, and willing to grant the relief desired, wanted a pre-Commons resolved itself into committee; Howard too shocking to be neglected. The House of cedent." In search of one, the philanthropist was examined at the bar; on the house resuming, journeyed into the neighboring counties. He did he received what was equivalent to its thanks not find the precedent he sought, but he found the through Mr. Speaker; and two bills were the prisons in a terrible state; and by dint of constant result. iteration the whole subject grew up in his mind.

The first of these enactments, passed on the 31st The first stage of his inquiries was Cambridge; of March, 1774, declares that all prisoners against the prison of which town he found very insecure, whom no bills of indictment shall be found by the and without a chaplain; here, in addition to the grand jury, or who shall be discharged by proclafee to the gaoler, the prisoner had to pay another mation for want of prosecution, shall be immediateto the sheriff, before he could obtain his liberty. ly set at large in open court, without payment of He extended his journey to Huntingdon; the gaol any fee or sum of money to the sheriff or gaoler in of which he likewise inspected. He returned to respect of such discharge; and, abolishing all such Cardington powerfully affected by the miseries fees for the future, it directs the payment, in lieu which he had seen, but without having found the of them, of a sum not exceeding 13s. 4d. out of the precedent of which he was in search. These county-rate-or out of the public stock of cities, glimpses, however, into the state of prisons, rather towns, and hamlets not contributing to such ratewhetted his appetite for further investigation than for every prisoner discharged in either of the cases allayed it; and he had not been many days at Card-provided for by the statute. The other bill which ington after his return before he commenced a much became law on the 2d June, i. e. while Howard wider range of inspection-taking in his route the was resting from his labors at Cardington, authorlarge cluster of midland counties. His first point of observation on this second journey was Northampton; where he found that the gaoler, instead of receiving a salary for his services, actually paid forty pounds a year for his situation! This fact was not an unfair index to the material condition of the prison. The felons' court-yard was close and confined; and prisoners had no straw allowed them to sleep on. Beds for prisoners were never thought of in those days. Leicester was next visited; the situation of the gaol received his explicit condemnation; it was pronounced incapable of being rendered either convenient or healthy. When debtors were unable to pay for accommodationand it will be remembered that this would always be the case with honest insolvents, who had given everything up to their creditors-they were confined in a long dungeon, which was damp and dark, being under ground, and had only two small holes, the largest not more than twelve inches square, to get a refractory colleague to agree upon a sitelet in light and air. The felons were kept in an his life was henceforth devoted to prisons and imunder-ground dungeon-night and day; but they prisonment. He revisited the gaols of England;

izes and requires the justices to see that the walls and ceilings of all prisons within their respective jurisdictions be scraped and whitewashed once a year at least; that the rooms be regularly washed and ventilated; that infirmaries be provided for the sick, and proper care taken of the same; to order clothes for the prisoners when they see occasion; to prevent their being kept in underground dungeons, whenever they can; and, generally, to take such measures as shall tend to restore and preserve their health.

Except an election attempt in 1775, to free Bedford from the shackles of the corporation, which having overthrown the power of Junius' Duke, then jobbed the borough-and two years wasted in 1779-1780, as the supervisor of a proposed penitentiary, during which time Howard could not


ard's public autobiography (for such in fact were his explorations and his works) is exhibited to convey an idea of the nature and extent of his labors; the whole is well planned, and well executed, though in too artificial a style. Mr. Dixon belongs to the platform school, and that style is hardly fitted for a book. The necessity of saying a good deal when the matter does not furnish much to say, involves a mode of frequent comment—an improvement of the subject, which rather overlays the matter. A similar need induces digression;

he went to Scotland and Ireland-whose prisons | was dull, and Aiken's, though of a higher kind he found, strange to say, in a tolerable state; he does not tell enough, at least in the way our readtravelled oftener than once through France, Flan- ing world likes to be told. This is done in John ders, Holland, Prussia, and Germany; he visited Howard and the Prison-World of Europe. The Denmark, Sweden, St. Petersburg, and Moscow; state of prisons and the condition of prisoners behe traversed Portugal and Spain, and again re- fore Howard's time are succinctly yet sufficiently visited Italy. The facts which he gathered on placed before the reader; the facts connected with these journeys he gave to the world, with the con- Howard's personal life have been diligently colclusions he drew from them. When he had ex-lected, and are well brought out; enough of Howhausted "the prison-world of Europe," he turned to the less loathsome but more seemingly dangerous subjects of the plague and the lazarettos. He visited the lazaretto of Marseilles in disguise, as in disguise he had traversed the whole of France; for the government, sillily sore at some of Howard's observations on the Bastile, had refused him permission, though officially made. Besides exploring the lazarettos of Italy and Malta, he went to Smyrna and Constantinople, exposing himself to the dangers of the plague, and the certainty of detention as a probably infected person. Return-a passing or subordinate topic is dwelt upon till it ing to England in safety, he found his son a carries the reader away and back again. Above lunatic, the victim of profligate habits; for, ab- all," who peppers the highest is surest to please." sorbed in his own great mission, Howard had Hence the tendency to an unnatural exaggeration somewhat neglected his domestic duties, and left in praise, and a sneering depreciation of oppohis son too much to himself and bad companions.nentsThere was nothing in hope or reflection to cheer him at home, and employment had become habitual. In 1789, he left England with the impression that this journey would be the last; and so it was. He died in the January of the following year, at Cherson in South Russia. With a feeble constitution, and between sixty and seventy, it is true enough to say that he fell a martyr to humanity, for his health was broken by his labors. strict matter of fact, however, he died of a fever, caught, he imagined, from attending a young lady, contrary to his usual rule, which was to give his medical assistance only to the poor. It was his wish to be buried privately in a spot he had pointed out; but the local government, the military, and the people, followed him in long procession. His decease sounded like a knell through Europe; but perhaps the best proof of the sensation it caused is the fact that, though a private person, his death was announced in the London


Gazette. The man who can overcome the stilted formalism of English bureaucracy must be a Her

cules indeed.

So over violent, or over civil,

That every man with them is god or devil. There is more of these traits in Mr. Dixon than is desirable on the score of perfect good taste, or But a good style of biographical composition. having chosen his tools, he uses them with effect; and in two great points of biography he is very successful-he keeps up the reader's attention, and impresses the life and labors of the hero upon

his mind.


"THE pride and folly of our nature discover themselves together in nothing so much as in the pretence to liberty; for man was born to serve, and God has only left it to our discretion what master we will choose; we may serve Him if we please, and his service certainly brings us to that liberty we long for; but no sooner are we loose from his service, but we necessarily fall into the service of our own lusts and corruption, which is an infamous, and fruitless, and desperate bondage.

overween and mistake ourselves. None are born


"We find the Pharisees boasting of liberty* as The life and character of such a man deserves their birthright, We were born free.' But our to be brought before a generation that was forget- Saviour checks them with this answer, 'Whosoever ting all but his name and some vaguely pompous committeth sin is the servant of sin.' Alas! we idea of his doings. In this point of view the free; Nature itself makes us bonds; and the untask has been exceedingly well performed by Mr.ruly desires we are born withal, bring us to slavery Hepworth Dixon. The new materials he has col- unavoidable, unless we escape through the proteclected have not perhaps the value he ascribes te tion of our rightful master: If the Son make us them; but new materials (unless of a remarkable free, then are we free indeed.' It is therefore that kind) were not needed. Enough existed to indi- Christ is called our Redeemer, that is, he who buys cate the great characteristics of Howard's private us out of slavery; and his service is our actual life; his public life was accessible in his own which he has purchased for us."-Dean Young's redemption;-that is, it instates us in that freedom works, and in printed records. What the age Sermons, vol. 2, p. 311–3. required was a book to supply its wants after its own fashion; for Brown's, however authentic,

* John viii.

† Ib. v. 34.

+ Ib. v. 36.


WHEN at a late hour Noah and Pavel reached their home, they found a number of guests returning from the fair crowding the yard; so that Noah, in the general bustle, could slip off his sullied finery without Salome becoming immediately aware of the mishap that had befallen it. Pavel, contrary to his wont, that day entered the public room. It was full of carters, Jews, cattle-drivers, and peasantry, from neighboring estates, who were swallowing, for the most part in apathetic silence, jorums of brandy, the only refreshment demanded. In the corner, however, into which Pavel had shrunk with one or two of Noah's younger children, three men, who had arrived together and occupied a little table to themselves, were engaged in eager discourse, attending but little to the presence of the children.

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paradise to them. The maids and the company ladies are all obliged to tend it-every one except a proper nurse. No one is to feed it but herself, and half the time she forgets it, and it fills the castle with its shrieks, and no one dare relieve its wants till her return. Then, when she has starved and physicked the child to death, she returns it to the parents, saying she has discovered it to be dirty and sickly. She has already killed several in our village in that way. When they are a little older, if she keeps them long enough, she crams them with all sorts of learning, but is sure, after a time, to tire of them-to say they are stupid and mischievous, and to give them back. She generally keeps a child about six months. Whenever we hear the roll of her carriage in the distance, I and my wife, we always snatch up, in great haste, any stray child of ours that may happen to be on the road, for fear she might see and take a fancy to it."

"As for us," said the fourth peasant, "we of Smichow, we fare well enough as far as the men

"But poorly," said one of the men-"how-are concerned, but the master makes a strange ever, he is strong—he may afford to lose an eye or a tooth, and yet not be the worse off in the Long run."

"Do you, his own cousin, say so?"

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Why, if one were to take things in the way
you mean, there'd be no living possible-if one
can't stand
beating one had as well be a lord

oneself, ha ha! ha!"
"He is always droll, is Joseph; I suppose,
though, Urbanski does not find it amusing."

"I dare say not," put in, composedly, his cousin, "but that wont prevent my cracking jokes at him."

"Ay, but when it comes home to you."

mess of it with the women-he lives like a perfect pagan; however, it's no concern of ours— on the whole, we are happy, and need not complain."

"The fact is, it's natural enough," interrupted Joseph, "that when people can do what they please they should often please to do odd things. My poor defunct mother used to say of a Sunday

for she was bedridden, and could not go to church-don't forget, children, to pray for the horses, that they may remain strong in health and in number, because, she used to add, with a sly wink, if they were to fail, you know, the lords would be for riding you."

"I'll howl like any other, but that is not often "But even horses," said he who had taken the case luckily, I never struck the fancy of any Urbanski's part, the serf whose ill-treatment Noah one-what, with my squint and my red hair, I and Pavel had that morning witnessed, "even have not been pressed into the service as foot-horses will not always bear the spur." man."

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"You are always grumbling, Ivan," said Joseph, shrugging his shoulders. "What would you have said in the time of my father, when the lord could take our lives? Now we frontier people know that neither the Emperor of Russia, nor Austria, will allow anything of the sort now. If Urbanski chose to complain even about his beating, his master would have to smart for it.”

"And it's comfortable he and his family would be for the rest of their lives!" was the answer.

"Well," said the third. who had not yet spoken; "I am with a widow lady. Now she sets up for an angel. There is little or no flogging on her estate; but then she worries the soul out of one. I'd compound for a flogging once a "No, no, Urbanski knows better than that." week if she liked the bargain-she inquires into "It all comes to this," said Joseph, "if the one's illness, and poisons with her own decoc-lord be kind, well and good; if he be bad, su tions. She is always fussy about one's private much the worse for us."

business, and patching up marriages whether peo- A new comer, whose speech denoted him to be ple like it or not. One of her worst manias is of the German portion of Poland, now joined the that of adopting children. She can't pass a cot-party. tage and see an unfortunate brat, male or female, but she takes a certain fancy to it-whether weaned or not is all one-it is huddled up, just as it is, into her carriage, and the parents are expected to fall at her knees to thank her as if she had opened

"Ah, Michel, where do you come from?" "From Lemberg-I drove there some cattle for my master lately."

"Anything new going on there ?"

"All as usual; the great folk a-marrying, and

a-being born, and a-dying, and a great fuss made about it all. There was a grand christening, too, of one of our little Gallician lordlings, son and heir to the rich Count Stanoiki."

"I did not know," said Joseph, "he had married again."


So there he sat,

house, "The Sulky Boy."
with his elbows on the table, his head leaning on
his hand, looking with cold, uninquiring eye at
the obvious distress of Noah and Salome.

For a time they carried on their discourse in
Hebrew ; but Noah could contain his vexation no

Yes, a Countess Sophia. ✶ ✶ ✶ She looks a longer. proud dame enough."

"Is she pretty" inquired Joseph.

"This is the third loan the countess will have extorted from us since new-year. At first, when

"How should I know ?" said the peasant; "lit-I brought her the rent of my farm on the proper tle do I know or care about fine ladies in silk and velvet-we pay those silks and velvets dear enough, that's what I can tell. I never look at our old princess at home; for it 's a princess we have, and as old as my grandmother; I never see her flaring dresses without thinking that the brighter they are the blacker is my own bread. By the way, talking of our princess, I must tell you a good joke about her."

But Pavel could hear no more. Sick at heart, giddy with the sudden intelligence of the birth of an heir to the lands of Stanoiki-a clear, undoubted, rightful heir-he rushed up stairs to his loft, there to exhale freely his rage and his sorrow. The little hope that had survived in his breast was now at an end. What could, at any time, be his dark, unacknowledged claim opposed to such a rival? But surely there had once been another gentle creature, fair and lofty as gentle, who had ruled paramount in those halls. There had been another child hailed with the same transports. Where was that gentle creature, and where that proud and happy child now? How was the new heir named? Did he bear the ill-fated name of Leon-Pavel's real name-Pavel's secret treasure -to which alone his imagination answered? Had he robbed him of that too? This boy would be his future lord. The thought was maddening!

day, I got praises for my punctuality-next, I was coolly asked to pay my rents in advance; even that I did; first one quarter, then another, but now a third term is demanded, and my lease is but for one more. Unhappy creature that I am! what shall I do? What does she want with all this money, that haughty woman?—to gamble it away at the card-table at home, or in regular gaming houses abroad!"

"You should n't speak thus, Noah, before a child," observed Salome, anxiously.

"But Pavel is no child, Salome. His mind is riper than his years—there's no harm done speaking before him."

Pavel answered this compliment by no protestations, but it was his cold manner that, strange to say, recommended him to Noah's esteem.

"Now I must either pay a third term in advance, or I shall be driven from the premises the moment my lease is out, in which case I am sure to lose the money already paid in, for she 'll never return a stiver to me. Ah! poor wretched man that I am! losing the interest of all my money, and where am I to get the sum thus required of me? I must borrow it of a brother, and pay the interest on it myself. Well may the countess say she likes to let her distilleries and farms to Jews in preference to Christians—they pay better. I wonder when she could squeeze so much out of a Christian tenant."

"It seems to me," said Pavel, at last breaking silence, "that though what is demanded of you is unjust, you make no bad bargain of this place; I know enough of your affairs, Noah, to be sure of that; if it is more than you wish me to be acquainted with, you should n't have asked me to look into your accounts so often. Come, come, a lonely ale-house near the frontier is particularly convenient, and well worth paying for." "Surely, surely," said Salome, not betray us?”

The practical views of Noah had destroyed much of the boy's romance. He no longer believed Jakubska to be a witch, nor did he now Thus did Noah grumble for some time, and think he was connected with the general; but still | Salome's soothing accents were lost upon him; for he clung to the notion that some secret tie had en- he was hasty when not under the immediate condeared him to the late countess. There was trol of Christian eyes. something so soothing to his pride and vanity in this delusion, that he would rather have parted with life at that moment than with it. The next morning he met the family later than usual. He was afraid lest his disturbed air might be made the subject of remark and inquiry; but the first glance showed him that here too bad news had spread consternation. Salome's lustrous eyes were dim, and her countenance was sad. Noah walked up and down the room with a brow of care, whilst Peter was clearing away the bottles and glasses which late revellers had left. Pavel made no greetings, but took his place quietly at the table where Salome usually laid out his breakfast for him; but he was not noticed. This was very unusual, and showed a great perturbation of spirit. It was one of the peculiarities of Pavel that he never seemed to take any interest in the concerns of the family, and he had been, in consequence, surnamed by the children and helps about the CCLXXXIV. LIVING AGE. VOL. XXIII. 12


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you would "What should I do it for ?" said Pavel. Smuggling is no sin," said Noah, Pavel's words giving a new current to his thoughts. "What right have governments to prohibit people from making their lawful trade?”

"These are things I do not yet understand," said Pavel with emphasis, as if the day would soon come when he would prove an adept in his friend Noah's system of political economy.

Noah's tragic vein being thus broken, he could country, the alehouse was full, and the brandy, as not conveniently resume his indignant lamenta- usual, going its round, to the exclusion of every tions; so he made up his mind to set off for the other refreshment. When all the field work was next town, and endeavor to raise the necessary done, Pavel entered the common room, which he money. Being loath to trust his luck on this im- had of late more frequented than formerly. But portant occasion altogether to the Paradise apples, how unfavorable soever this circumstance might previous to his departure he emptied into his pock-be to the refinement of his mind, or to the develets-for he wore his every-day clothes-half a opment of his sentiments, thanks to Noah's exampint of fresh beer; as, confident in this potent | ple, it did not affect his sobriety. He had fully charm, he sallied forth with a joyous air, Salome anxiously followed him with her eyes until distance hid him from her sight.

"My sons will have the same weary path to tread," she said, turning to Pavel, who had declined to accompany Noah, remembering but too well what he had suffered the day before. "You, too," she gently added, "young as you are, you have your trials."

All such advances on Salome's part, Pavel considered as so many insidious endeavors towards discovering his secrets, and he abruptly left her.

imbibed the Jew's horror for spirits of any kind, but he had latterly taken pleasure in the converse of those rude beings whose very approach had seemed to him pollution when first brought in contact with them. He could now understand their sorrows-they were likely to be his own; and their bitterness of spirit was congenial to him. This evening the group seemed dull enough, however. Nothing had occurred to stir up those apathetic beings who sought in brandy what the Turk seeks in opium, an equivalent for the activity of existence and of thought from which they are debarred. No newspapers, such as are found in the meanest hovel in Germany, are kept in Po

"I cannot gain that boy's friendship or confidence," said Salome to herself, as she gazed after him" he has a dark temper of his own-Ilish inns of this description. The people dared wonder what makes Noah like him so well."

When the Jew returned, it was easy to see from the expression of his face that the beer had been more propitious than the apples.

"I have succeeded," he said, "beyond my hopes. Not only have I procured the money on less hard terms than I had expected, but placed Aaron with kind people who 'll take care of him —that is, for a consideration, which will prove another pull; but what must be, must be; my boys can't grow like wild beasts. And something should be done for you, too," he continued, turning to Pavel; "be candid with me, and tell me the name of your former friends. I am sure I could be of use to you if I had but your confidence. It is true your cousin tells me that every possible step has been taken; but this, I own to you, I don't believe. That man's assertions must be received with caution. Let me know the name of your former protector, and I will myself cause proper representations to be made.”

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"What for?" said Pavel. "I have strong arms and a strong will-I shall soon be able to earn my bread without king or count; and when I rememberHe pressed his hands upon his eyes. The lonely common- -the stormy day -the ragged beggar woman—the flying carriage -flitted across his mind. "No! rather than owe him aught, or ask him for the bread I needed, I would die for the want of it!"

The Jew looked embarrassed. He had, in truth, that very day, with the help of a scrivener, got up a pathetic address to some high and mighty personage unknown, in the boy's behalf, and had it sent to the cousin to be placed, with due secrecy and precaution, in the hands of Jakubska. Noah thought it best to tell Pavel at once what he had done; the latter made no reply, but turned sulkily

hardly speak of the great above their breath, and from anything political they were averse. Pavel was just thinking how much pleasanter a walk in the fields by moonlight would be than thus sitting in a close, dirty room, when the dull, rumbling sound of the daily diligence was heard without. It made its customary halt at the inn door, that the coachman might take his drop, as he called a stiff glass of brandy; and whilst Salome ran for the draught, a traveller descended from the top of the vehicle, declaring his intention of proceeding the rest of his journey on foot. The new comer drew all eyes on him; men of his appperance being seldom, if ever, seen in Noah's tap-room. He was a short, spruce personage, full of pretension, with frogs on the breast of his closely-buttoned surtout, a foraging cap, long spurs, fierce mustaches bristling on either side of his nose like the whiskers of a cat, a worn, rakish air, a jaunty step, and an irritating insolence of manner. The boors eyed him with sleepy curiosity. The Jews stared with their national eagerness, ever sniffing out profit and a dupe. Pavel thought he had seen the stranger before—the face, the air, nay, the halfcane half-whip he dangled in his hand, were not unknown to him. Nor was he mistaken. This individual, a baptized Jew of Posen, was the courier of one of the most intimate friends of Stanoiki, deep in the confidence of his master, and selected by him as his agent in matters of political as well as private interest. For some months past he had ceased entirely to be the courier, and was now the agent only. He spoke many languages, had travelled much, and could assume most characters and garbs at pleasure.

Whilst rapidly explaining what he wished for supper, he contrived to interweave his directions with many artful queries about the neighborhood, and soon obtained a pretty accurate knowledge of One evening in August, a busy time in the the general character of those present. Two


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