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though constantly, as absurdly, used for both. It is worth the
“ In those of the Cantons to which I went, felons have each a
“At Lusanne I visited a prison, in which there were at that time no prifoners. On conversing with Dr. Tiflot, he exprefled his surprize at our gaol dittemper ; faid, “ I should not find it in Switzerland :" and added, that " he had not heard of its being any where but in England.” When I inentioned the late act of parliament for preserving the health of our prisoners, he approved of it highly, efpecially the clauses which require white - Washing the rooms and keeping them clean.- I did not (as the Doctor faid I should not) find the gaol fever in Switzerland: not did I find it any where else abroad.
" In Bern, the principal Canton, there was in one prison (the Schellenhaus) one hundred and twenty-tour galley Naves. They have not each a room to themselves; but there is foine distinction of the more and less criminal, both in their rooms and work. Most of them are employed in cleaning the streets, and public walks: removing the subbish of building; and the snow and ice in winter. The city is one of the cleanest I have seen. Four or five are chained to a small waggon, and draw; others, more at liberty, sweep, load, &c. These are known by an iron collar, with a hook projecting over their heads ; weight about five pounds: I saw one riveted on a criminal in about two minutes. They work in summer from feren to eleven, and from one to fix; in winter from eight to eleven, and froni one to four. I asked them, "whether they would choofe to work fo, or be confined wichin doors ?” “Much rather," they said, “ work thus.” The Jels criminal are in feparate wards. They work withia doors, spinning, &c. in a large rooin; and have not the iron collar. The daily allowance two pounds of bread, and twice a day a pint and half of foup, made of barley, beans, &c. they ferch it from the city hospital. In their leisure hours they make trifies to fell, mend Thoes, &c. and deliver them as they pass on at work. They are not suffered to practise gaming of any fort. The keeper and turnkey are to see that the prisoners perform their devotions every morning and evening. The chaplains pray with them and instruct them on Sunday and Thursday. Once a month other clergymen fuperintend the service. No vifitant
admitted on Sunday. Great care taken of the fick. No sutling place to be kept in this House of correction. The keeper is itri&ly forbida den to sell the prisoners wine, brandy, or other provisions; and requited entirely to forego any such einolument.
" In the Ordinary Prison [la Prison Ordinaire] some of their rooms are wainscotted, or rather planked all round. Eight of thein are very clofe and lrong. The doors of oak two inches and half thick, plated with iron ; three hinges, a look, and two padlocks Here were no prisoners. A criminal who can pay, is allowed to expend leven baita iwo kreutzer, about a shilling daily, for two meals of soup and good bread. To one that is poor, the government allows half the fum. To all who are condemned, they allow a shilling a day for eight days hefore they luffer. These allowances are specified on a paper hung up in the gaol. There hangs up also a serious exhortation concerning the arviol nature of an oath, and the form of sundry Oaths to be taken.”
This form is so proper, that perjury is hardly ever known among them. How different in England !-We have in our Newgate Kalendar a number of fingular and daring instances of prisoners breaking from their confinement. Mr. Howard tells us of a very fingular one at Batil in Switzerland.
“ One of the tirongest rooins is by the great clock, about six feet in height, into which the prisoner is let down, through a trap door at top, by a ladder, which is then taken up, his victuals being put in through a wicket at the fide. When I was in this rooip, and touk notice of the uncommon strength of it, the gaoler told me a prisoner had lately made his escape from it. I could not devise what method he took, but heard it was this. He had a spoon for soup, which he sharpened to cut out a piece from the timber of his room: then by practice he acquired the art of itriking his door, juit when the great clock itruck, to drown the noise : and in fifteen days he forced all the bolts, &c.”
Of the state of the prisons in England Mr. Howard gives a minute, and we doubt not, exact account: from which it appears, that in the Spring of the year 1776, there were confined 4084 persons, to each of which allowing, on a moderate computation, two dependants, there appeared i to be then upwards of twelve thouland persons suffering by imprisonment.-A Thameful number in a country where industry is of fo much value as it is in Eugland: and where vice is rather encouraged than corre&ted by confinement in prison !
From the knowledge Mr. Howard has thus acquired, at a great degree of trouble, hazard, and expence, he points out many cxpedients, which he conceives will tend to redreis the - evils of which he lo juftly complains; modestly submitting the whole to those whom it may and ought to concern; to procure 1peedy relief.
" What I have proposed, fays lie, throughout my work, is liable, I am fentible, 'to forne objections ; -anut thele will, doubtlefs, be leight
ened by the cavils of those whose interest it is to prevent the reformarion of abuses on which their ease or emolument may depend. Yet I hope not to be entirely deserted in the conflict: and, it this publication mall have any effect in alleviating the distrelles of poor debtors and oher prisoners, in procuring for them clearly and wholesome abodes ; and thereby exterminating the gaol-fever, which has fo often spread abroad its dreadful contagion--in abolithing, or at least reducing, the oppresfive tees of clerks of allize, and of the peace; and checking the impositions of gaolers, and the extortion of bailiffs ; in introducing a habit of induitry in our Bridewells; and restraining the thocking debauchery and immorality which prevail in our gaols and other prisons; -if any of these beneficial coniequences shall accrue, the writer will be ready to indulge himself with the pleating thought of not having lived without doing some good to his fellow-creatures, and will think himtelf abundantly repaid for all the pains he has taken, the tine he has spent, and the hazards he has undergone."
The Excursion. By Mrs. Brooke; Author of the History of Lady
Julia Mandeville, and of Emily Montague. 2 vol. 1200. 55. fewed. Cadell.
As nothing is more meagre and unsatisfactory than an abftract of the story of a Novel, we shall not trouble ourfelves or the reader with a skeleton of this excursory narrative. Let it fuffice to say that, without any great variety of incident, the story of this little work is pleasing and probable, the characters natural and interesting, and the fentiments fueh as in general do honour both to the head and the heart of the writer. If to thi. we add, that, with a inafterly pencil, the author has pourtrayed the features of loine diftinguished personages, and displayed a knowledge of the human heart, and the customs of the world, which can only be the effect of penetrating observation and much experience, we pay only a common compliment to considerable merit. We must not refule our readers, however, the ready opportunity of perusing the seventh chapter of the fifth book; containing the account of a conversation between an imaginary gentleman and the real manager of a theatre, on the subject of a new tragedy, supposed to be written by the heroine of the peice, and p esented by her friend [a Mr. Haminond] for repretentation. The success of his negotiation is thus related by Mr. H. to the Lady.
* In obedience to your commands, madum, I sent your tragedy to the acting manager the very day I had the honour of artenuing you before. VOL. VI.
" I ac
“ I accompanied the packet with a letter, requesting him to read the play, which was written by a friend for whose fuccess I was as anxious as I should be for my own, with attention ; and to give me his decisive answer this morning; when I intended to have the pleafure of calling on him to receive it.
“ I went accordingly at eleven, the hour which I supposed would be most convenient to hiin.
“ As he loves to keep on good terms with all authors of reputa. tion who have the complaisance not to write for the theatre, as he has measures to keep with me on account of some of my connexions, and as he knows cnough of my temper to be assured it is not calculated for attendance, I was admitted the moment I sent up my name.
“ I found him furrounded by a train of anxious expectants, for some of whom I felt the itrongest compafsion.
“ Ainongst the rest I faw -but I forbear his respectable name: an involuntary fiyh escaped me; I could scarce avoid exclaiming loud, Alas! to what is genius reduced !
“ The train which composed this great man's levee all retired on my entrance; when the following conversation took place; a converfation which will convince you I over-rated my little interest, in fuppofing I could secure your tragedy a candid reading.
“ My good fir, I am happy any thing procuies me the pleasure of seeing you—I was talking of you only lait week
“ I am much obliged to you, Sir, but the business on which I attend you
“ Why-a-um--true---this play of your friend's--You look amazingly well, my dear fir-In short--this play-I should be charmed to oblige you—but we are to terribly overitöcked
“ I am not to learn that you have many applications, and therefore determined to wait on you in time-You have read the play, I take for granted
" Why--a--um--10--not absolutely read ii-Such a multiplicity of affairs-- Just skimmed the surface-154-Will you take any choco
dear friend? “ I have only this moment breakfasted, fir-But to our play,
" True-this play—the writing seems not bad — something tender something like sentiment-but not an atom of the vis comica.
“ In a tragedy, my good fir?
“ I beg pardon : I protest I had forgot-I was thinking of Mr. What-d'ye-call-um's comedy, which he left with me lalt Tuesday.
« But why tragedy? why not write comedy? There are real fosrows enough in lite without going to seek them at the theatre-Tras gedy does not please as it used to do, I ailure
you, fir. " You see I scarce ever play tragedy now? The public taite is quite changed within there three or four years?
" Yet Braganza
« A lucky hit, I confess-something well in the last scene-But as I was saying, firm your friend's play—there are good lines But
the fable—the manners--the conduct-people imagine-if authors sould be directed—but they are an incorrigible race
“Ah! Mr.Hammond! we have no writers now—there was a time your Shakespeares and old Bens—If your friend would call on me, I could propose a piece for him to alter, which perhaps
“ My comınillion, fis, does not extend beyond the tragedy in ques. tion; therefore we will
, if you please, return to that. “ Be so good, my dear fir, as to reach me the gentleman's play: it lies under the right hand pillow of the fopha.
“ i le took ihe play, which was still in the cayer in which I had sent it, and it was easy to see had never been opened.
“ He curned over the leaves with an air of the most soical inatten. tion, and proceeded :
“ There is a kind of a--sort of a-sinattering of genius in this prodoćtion, which convinces me the writer, with proper adyice, might come to something in time,
" But these authors—and after all, what do they do? They bring the meat indeed, but who instructs them how to cook it? Who points out the proper seasoning for the dramatic ragoût? Who furnishes the favoury ingredients to make the dish palatable? Who brings the Attic falt-the Cayenne pepper ?--the-the-—3—'Tis amazing the pains I am forced to take with these people, in order to give relish to their infipid productions
“ I have no doubt of all this, fir; but the morning is wearing away.
“ You have many avocations, and I would not take up your time; I bave only one word to add to what I have faid: I know we are too late for the present seafon ; but you will oblige me infinitely if you will make room for this piece in the course of the next.
“ The next season, my dear fir ! -vhya-it is absolutely impollible--I have now six-and twenty new tragedies on my promise-listbelides, I have not read it ?- That is-ii-it-a-your friend will fend it me in July-if I approve it in July, I will endeavour-let me lee---what year is this? --O, I remember—'tis feventy-five--Yes--if I think it will do, I will endeavour to bring it out in the winter of the winter of eighty-two.
“ That is, if my partner--if Mr. should have made no engagement unknown to me, for that year, which may put it out of my power.
I wished him a good morning, madam; and have brought back your tragedy:
“ Į have related the conversation literally, on which you are to make your own reflections : whatever may
future deterinination, you will find me always ready to execute your commands."
To thote who know any thing of the original, it is need less to mention the admirable likeness of the above picture ; others inay learn who the original is, by the succeeding reflections of the painter
“ The incoherent jumble of words without ideas, which I have been repeating to you, inadam, pursued he, is, I am told, the general P2