"Not see her!" thought I, "not see my little darling, and to part so soon-and for ever!" I thought they were cruel and harsh. Tom, blubbering, attempted to comfort me. Katie's mother in her great grief thought of mine. She asked me to remain quietly in the parlour, while she went up stairs for a few minutes. The silence, the heaviness of death reigned in the house. All seemed muffled, stealthy, dark, stifling, airless. Choking as I was, I sat down in sullen rebellion, and waited. I thought she would never return, but she came back at last, her worn fond motherly face streaming with tears. She beckoned me to follow, with a low, trembling hush! and I obeyed.

I don't know how I felt on entering the chamber, but my eyes fastened on the bed at once. The eyes had not now their unnatural lustre, the cheeks had lost their dreadful patches of fiery red. It was white, calm, holy, and I don't know that I shall ever behold a face whose loveliness had so much of a seraphic calm, which I cannot attempt to describe. The eyes unclosed-they beheld me. The lips parted-I surely heard

my name:

"Frank! Frank! dear Frank!" It was only a whisper, but I stooped and kissed her forehead, and knelt and covered her thin worn hands with tears and kisses, and heard the low sweet voice praying-then followed a thrill, a shiver, and a moan, and my little Katie was-dead! my little darling, my play-fellow, my pretty sweetheart Kate-was dead!

I saw my pretty treasure buried, and I thought I should liked to have been laid beside her-the bright blossom that she was. I have seen her grave since, and it lies in a swarded nook, which is as rich and as odorous as a garden, with bird-songs rising around it, and a winnowing as of great white wings all about it.

I always am better--I know I am better when I think of Katie, who loved me, and prattled to me, and prayed for me, and-and I don't think I have any more to tell you.

Only this before the dear face of that angel-child fades out of my memory, I shall be still as she, or a very old man. I am growing ever so old now and I shall then be unable to recollect that I have been a boywhen I shall forget her.

And that's my story-if you like it-about myself and little Katie, and I'm not going to answer any more questions. Its somebody else's turn now, and I'm quite ready for the ghost story that's going to be told. Put plenty of sheet on it, let it be ever so tall, and as white as the moonshine on the snow.

DESPONDENCY.

THERE travels a wasting fire
From vein to vein ;--

Thy shadow is not more faithful
Than is this pain.

I count the dull hours passing,
So sad-so slow;

But to me they bring no changing
As they come and go.

The spring-time is well-nigh over-
'Twas like a dream ;-

On the hedge wild flowers are hanging,
Yet blind I seem.

The nightingale's notes are ringing

O'er wood and lea;

Let her warble, or let her be silent,
What is't to me?

I only can feel for ever
Within my heart,

That from thee, O best beloved one!
I'm torn apart.

Thy shadow is not more faithful

Than is this pain;

And travels the wasting fire

From vein to vein.

GEIBEL.

OUR PRISON PUNISHMENTS.

THE subject of prison punishment is one in which every individual is concerned, and not, as it is practically regarded, one of importance to criminals only. Society at large is interested in the fact as to whether a due amount of punishment is awarded to those who break our laws, so that our goals may vindicate our wrongs; and those (few, indeed, comparatively as they are,) who give a thought for the true welfare of their fellow-men, are also interested to know that punishment does not degenerate into vengeance. Both of these classes have the same end in view, but they would attain it by somewhat different means; and hence our gaols have ever been regarded in different lights by the honest portion of the community. The one looks for nothing and will admit nothing but punishment, in the belief that that is necessary both to distinguish the criminal from the honest man, and to deter honest men from becoming criminals, the other admits punishment as one element only in this plan of procedure, and proceeds upon the belief that the improvement of the criminal, so as to induce him to leave his evil courses, is that which will most effectually benefit society.

There is no doubt truth on the side of both of these classes, and there is also an evil into which both are likely to fail,-the one will be that of undue severity, and the other of too much lenity; and hence it would be to be regretted if either class obtained exclusive control over our goals. Against the first class may be urged the facts, 1st, That a large part of our criminality is originally due to the misfortunes of men; such, for example, as the want of home and proper parental education of so great a part of the children of our great towns; to the crowding together of both sexes, result ing from poverty, and from that crying evil of the day, the destruction of the poor man's dwelling to make room for the rich man's palace. 2nd, To the frailty of human nature, whereby men not hitherto vicious, by some

sudden temptation fall into evil. And 3rdly, That however necessary punishment may be, and however much it may be deserved, it more commonly, perhaps, tends to raise in the heart of the criminal a spirit of hatred against society, and renders still deeper his determination to pursue his evil courses. Hence surely punishment should not only be kept within bounds, but, as far as it is practicable, it ought to be discriminating. A poor child who has become a thief from the waut of home and food, is as much entitled to receive at the hands of society some amount of protection and sympathy, as to suffer the punishment by which alone, perhaps, he may be made to feel that his course is an evil one. The cry of vengeance ill becomes erring man, under any circumstances, for "let him that standeth take heed lest he fall," is a word of caution fitted for the best of men, and, least of all, when it is expended upon a poor creature whom we are all in some sense bound to protect, when left or driven to evil courses by the absence or the ill conduct of his parent.

But it is quite competent to urge some serious objections to the conduct of the other class to which we have referred, viz,-to those whose advice tends towards lenity. If there is to be no punishment for breaking the laws, is there not a possibility that the vile saying may become applicable to us, viz: that "the difference between vice and virtue is simply opportunity;" and however much the criminal may claim our sympathies, he has a conscience which tells him when he does wrong, and instead of being held up as a martyr to his circumstances, he must be taught that he is responsible for his actions. Is it just to the hard-working honest man who, with great privation, keeps his house and brings up his children as good members of society, that a person indulging in wicked courses should have a home with good nourishment found for him by the State, whilst he spends his time in willing idleness? Dishonesty must be discountenanced and punished, or honesty and industry cannot be properly encouraged.

Here, then, lies the difficulty of the whole question, viz.,-to apportion punishment to crime, and to suitably temper justice with mercy. If the natural instincts of men were left to settle this question, there can be no doubt that they would lean towards excess of punishment; and this indeed has been abundantly exemplified in the prisons of our own country, and is now the crying sin of several of the continental states. But this fact has led men and women to institute inquiries into the state of our prisons, and almost invariably this has tended to the amelioration of the condition of the prisoners. We need not mention the name of Howard and Fry in times now past, and we well know that the number of those who have imbibed some of their spirit is greatly increased at the present time. Indeed, such are the efforts now made to improve the condition of our criminals, that, strange as it may seem, many thoughtful as well as kind-hearted men are entertaining serious doubts as to where it is to end. A new class of prisons, under the name of Reformatories, are springing up in every county, and whilst they have been made the means of snatching many juvenile criminals from the paths of evil, they are almost altogether setting aside punishment as a mode of dealing with criminals.

This can scarcely be confined to children, but will doubtless extend to youths, and then to adults, and hence, at a period of change, we are making a plunge of infinite moment to society almost in the dark. Our belief upon this question is, that there is a tendency springing up to unduly discountenance punishment, and that it would be to the interest of the whole community if the subject were fairly and repeatedly brought under consideration. The publication of the reports of the inspectors of prisons is in a degree supplying this need, but their statements are for the most part very meagre, and are not published so widely, as to influence the nation.

Private persons are also engaging in the work, and amongst these we mention Dr. Edward Smith, one of the physicians to the Hospital for Consumption, Brompton, London, who has undertaken the enquiry in the interests of science, and has subjected himself to the various methods of prison punishment, with a view to determine their true influence upon the system. The results obtained by him have been published in a series of reports and papers read before the learned societies, and from these we have drawn some of our information.

We lay it down as a principle of action, in reference to the treatment of our criminals, that they must be punished, and reformed if possible. We cannot shut our eyes to the fact that suffering tends to prevent a recurrence of that which leads to it, and, with many, is far more effectual than any rewards for honesty could be, and that it is a mode of procedure sanctioned and even enjoined both by divine writ and by the instincts of our own nature. Only let punishments be in proportion to crime, and let them be at all times both certain and even-handed, for it has been found by experience that disproportionate severity defeats its own end, and that a smaller punishment, when certain, is more dreaded than a greater one which is uncertain. It must also be remembered that punishment may be variously administered, as by corporeal inflictions, by the restriction of liberty or of food, and by bodily labour, and, strange as it may seem, the most severe punishment may be the absence of labour. In inflicting the punishment we have therefore opportunity of applying it with discrimination, and in doing so it is possible for us to make it more effectual. Another law which we lay down is that the health and strength of the prisoner is not to be injured by any of our plans of punishment, for when he leaves the prison he should be, if possible, in a state of body such as to enable him to gain his living by his labour. But, on the other hand, it cannot be just to make it an aim to improve the bodily health and strength of the criminal, except so far as that may of necessity result from those conditions which we must adopt in order to avoid injury to his health, for it often occurs that not to injure is to improve. The question of labour, however, raises another difficulty, viz, what shall they be made to do. Shall it be of a profitable nature, or shall it be mere waste of human strength? If the former, shall it be skilled or unskilled labour? The latter is open to all men, but it is but slightly productive; whilst the former must be restricted to a few, unless we will undertake to teach it to the prisoners. Then if we teach our prisoners some kind of trade whereby the labour may be profitable, we give them that as a punishment for which honest men have had to pay, and we turn them out of the prison to be competitors with the honest man in the labour market. Now, there is an evil in all this, but whether it is practically one which society may dread is very questionable; and it has this good, that by teaching an idle criminal a trade whereby he may obtain his honest living, society does that which relieves itself from a degree of responsibility, and should the criminal abuse this advantage, he must answer for it to a higher power. It is, however, evident that the chief good of all this is the belief that if men can be taught to gain a living by labour, they will be indisposed to break our laws. There can be no doubt that idleness leads to vice in many forms, and that labour withdraws the person from temptation, and hence that there is truth in the opinions upon which the plan is based; but it is also true that many a criminal has learnt a trade in prison, and learnt it so well that when at large he can get a living, and have time enough to spare to pursue his evil courses; and also that to many, the trade which they have acquired being of no use whatever to them when they have left the prison, all the time, pains, and money expended by the country upon them to teach them the trade has been utterly useless. Hence these and similar questions have raised the further question which is

still under discussion-the desirableness of labour or no labour in our different prisons.

In applying these principles to an examination of the actual state of our gaols we must offer this preliminary remark, viz., that the apportionment of punishment to crime really ought to rest with our legislature, and with our judges, when the details of the crime and the criminal are before them. Now, on this head, we must admit that every effort has been made for years past to effect this object, and statutes which from their heartlessness have shocked the feeling of the day have been erased from our statute book, whilst others have been made more stringent to meet increasing evils, as for example, the beating of women and the wholesale robberies of banks. It would now be difficult to point to a single law which in practice inflicts a punishment greatly beyond the crime. This being admitted, we should naturally look upon our gaols as places for carrying into effect the views of the legislature and the judge, and deem it out of place to see if they meet out even-handed justice and apportion punishment to crime. They ought to be simply the rod, the judge being the head which directs its employment. But this is very far from being the case-so far, that we ought to ask what the gaol does, and not what the judge says. It is, in fact, the gaol which apportions as well as inflicts the punishment. This may appear impossible, but we shall see that it is true, and it results from the different system which is pursued in different goals.

The methods of punishment adopted are the following:-1stly, restriction of liberty; 2ndly, dietary; 3rdiy, silence; 4thly, separation from their fellowprisoners; 5thly, labour in trades, in shoemaking, tailoring, mat and rug making, repairs, cleaning, stone breaking, pumping, and grinding; oakum, wool, or hair picking; the turning of a crank, working the tread-wheel, and the shot-drill; and 6thly, education.

It is evident from looking at this list with its great diversity that the effects will be likely to differin degree, unless special care be taken to effect uniformity. They cannot all be present in the same gaol; and hence, as they must differ very greatly in the amount of punishment which they are fitted to inflict, is it not certain that uniformity will not be a leading characteristic of our gaols? Such are perhaps prima facie and self-evident objections, but they by no means approach the reality as it is present before us. That absolute uniformity in all gaols must be of difficult if not of impossible attainment is probable, but that extreme diversity should exist is surely neither necessary nor desirable. But is the judge on circuit expected to know the peculiar arrangements of each gaol, so as to help him to arrive at a just opinion as to the sentence which he shall pronounce, or, being ignorant of this, must not the same sentence be in reality very different in effect according to the gaol to which the prisoner may happen to be sent? Surely this is a most important question, for we naturally suppose that a sentence of three weeks' imprisonment, with or without hard labour, for some trifling offence, means the same wherever it may be awarded. This touches the very foundation of our sense of justice; and if the sentences be not as uniform in effect as they are in terms, there ought to be an outcry of indignation on the part of all who would maintain the uprightness of our laws. Now, without examining every particular, how stand the facts in reference to one question, viz., that of labour? Let us inquire.

In Reading Gaol there is no labour of any kind, except that of cleaning the prison and turning wheels sufficient to grind corn and pump water for the prison use. The punishment here is simply restriction, separation, silence, forced idleness, and education. There is nothing for the prisoners to do, and yet they are kept in prison for even three years. How then are they punished? Forced idleness and silence, if unbroken,