our own times. Such characters, after all, are truly the salt of the earth. It is they, above all others, who bind man to man in the bonds of charity; and who remove bitterness and hatred, while they sow the seeds of kindness, peace, and virtue. We would not much quarrel with any one who should affirm that the present is the age in Britain of political debasement; but we would answer him by asserting, that it is also the age of moral and political renovation. Have not we, at present, a CLARKSON, a BROUGHAM, a BENNET, a BUXTON, a FRY, and a GURNEY, all actively employed in great works of CHARITY and BENEVOLENCE? This LIST, to which many names might be added, should be enough to stop the mouth of any gainsayer, and put to shame any one who would despair of the fortunes of the human race. We are, in many respects, in the high road to improvement; and all men should all good men will, unite in promoting those great interests of humanity to which so many distinguished characters of the present day are so entirely, creditably, and honourably de

voted.

This little and accessible work of Mr GURNEY does not perhaps display so much intellectual energy as its precursor by Mr BUXTON, but it does not fall short of it in practical good sense. It is unpretending, perspicuous, well digested; and the information it contains, as well as the whole cast of its sentiments, is calculated in an eminent degree to forward the great work of reform in our prisons, and, by that means, to lessen the present frightful amount of crime and misery. After the pains which have been taken to disseminate information on this important subject, by putting Mr BUXTON's book within the reach of almost every individual, for which purpose, liberality was not wanting on the part of the bookseller, nor any other person concerned,-we cannot suppose our readers ignorant of the reforms which have been recently accomplished in many jails, and especially of the wonders, we might almost say the miracles, which have been wrought in Newgate, through the exertions of Mrs FRY, and a few other benevolent characters, by means of kindness and attention to criminals. The pious and enlightened Christian

never looked on any fellow creature, however sunk or degraded, as unwor thy of his attention. That he may yet be an object of divine mercy, is enough to secure for him the commi seration of all who truly believe what very few venture openly to deny. And it is this religious principle ob viously which has chiefly actuated and sustained the most useful of our philanthropists. It is this principle, also, which should ensure to them the countenance and support of all their Christian brethren. But although it should be true that many profess to believe what has little influence on their conduct, the cause of Prison reform does not rest on religious prin ciple. It is equally called for on every principle of expediency. The increase of crimes within the last twenty years has carried alarm to almost every bosom in the empire. And the number of prisoners has increased to such a degree, that their proper treatment is no longer a matter of barren principle. Men may disregard the moral and future interests of their fellow men; they may utterly disre gard the sufferings of unfortunate pri soners; but selfishness calls on them not to neglect the security of their own persons and property. Now, the security of both is deeply implicated in the treatment of prisoners; nay, in the very structure as well as in the discipline of our juils!

The Parliamentary returns of com mitments and executions prove, in the most decisive manner, that, for many years, the latter bear almost no proportion to the former. The num ber of criminals deprived of life is almost nothing compared with those who are imprisoned for limited periods,-whose punishment is impri sonment solely, or imprisonment.combined with hard labour, and some other species of punishment, and who, in the end, are consequently liberated from prison. Now, it is of mighty conse quence that this shoal of persons who are again set loose upon society, shall not have become worse, instead of bets ter, by their imprisonment. But no thing has ever been more completely established than the fact, that the JAILS, till very recently, in all our large towns, and even still in most of them, were and are NURSERIES OF CRIME. The old offenders became more hardened within their walls;

the juvenile delinquent was there perfected in almost every art of wickedness; and the whole exhibited a mass of bloated corruption, vice, and misery. The object of Mrs FRY, Mr BUXTON, Mr BENNET, and Mr GURNEY, is to convert prisons into SCHOOLS OF REFORM. And what has been already accomplished at Ghent in Flanders, at Philadelphia in America, and in Newgate, and the Milbank Penitentiary, London, at Bury, Ilchester, and more partially in several other places of our own country, establishes as clearly, that reform is practicable and certain, as that the need for it is great and urgent.

Now, the means of accomplishing such incalculable good are neither remote nor difficult. They are nearly all comprehended in these four words, CLASSIFICATION,-EMPLOYMENT,CLEANLINESS,-INSPECTION. A good deal, no doubt, is implied in these terms; and to shew in the simplest manner what is implied, we shall quote a paragraph from the work be Core us.

"Did any promoter of prison discipline (says our author) venture to give his advice as to the objects to be aimed at, he might say,-Choose an airy and healthy situation for your jail, and one which will insure a constant and abundant supply of fresh water: if your criminals are numerous, let entirely separate buildings be erected for male and female prisoners; let these buildings be fire proof, and in all their parts undoubtedly secure; let there be inspection from the rooms of the governor in the one case, and of the matron in the other, over all the subdivisions of the respective buildings; let those subdivisions be sufficiently numerous; let your courts for exercise, your mess-rooms, work-rooms, and sleep ing-cells, be of a sufficient size, dry, and very airy; let your work-rooms, in particular, be extensive enough to accommodate large companies of prisoners, as well as the necessary machinery; and let neither the chapel, the infirmary, the school-room, nor the bath, be forgotten. On the subject of management, he might go on to say, Let your prisoners be allowed such food, clothing, firing, and bedding, as will, on the one hand, prevent undue suffering, and be sufficient to maintain them in health; and, on the other, afford them no degree of unneces sary indulgence: let their meals be conducted with the utmost regularity; let the different classes amongst them be distinguished by particular dresses; let every prisoner have a sleeping-cell to himself;

let no fetters be used in your prison; let all its apartments be frequently whitewashed and kept in a state of thorough cleanliness and decency; let your prisoners them have weekly changes of linen, let their be bathed when they enter the prison; let hair be kept short, and let them be obliged to wash themselves daily. Select for your governor a man of kind heart and enlight ened principles; and let your turnkeys be persons who will set the prisoners an example of steadiness, gentleness, and sobriety: let the women be superintended by a matron and other officers of their own sex; and let every company of prisoners, whether male or female, be under the con stant care of some responsible individual: let the tried be separated from the untried, grown up persons from juvenile offenders, misdemeanants from felons, and prisoners of a hopeful character from those who are more completely depraved: let public wor ship take place twice on the Sabbath-day, and let the rest of that day be devoted, as much as possible, to the perusal of religious books, and other means of spiritual edification; let a portion of the scriptures be read to the prisoners (not by one of their own body, but by some judicious superintendent) every morning and evening, and let time be set apart daily for the instruction of the ignorant; let the utmost care be taken to prevent all gaming, swear. ing, and other excesses; let a temporary solitary confinement, under the direction of a visiting magistrate, be the punishment of those prisoners who are refractory; and, on the other hand, let obedience and good behaviour be encouraged by a system of rewards: ABOVE ALL, LET EVERY CLASS

OF YOUR PRISONERS BE EMPLOYED;

let them work in companies under inspection, and, as much as possible. in silence; and let such a proportion of their earnings be allowed them, as will afford a sufficient inducement to the habits of order, sobriety, and industry.

"A prison so built, and so regulated, would indeed fulfil the ends designed by it its almost inevitable consequences would be the moral improvement of offenders, and by means of that improvement, the decrease of crime,-the peace of society.

"I cannot but indulge the fervent hope, that the particulars to which I have now alluded will increasingly obtain the attention of all those persons to whose care may be committed the building and management of new prisons. I am also fully aware, that of the evils now existing in too many of our jails, new prisons, regulated, on a new system, are the only complete remedy."

It is lamentable to be told, that our new Edinburgh jail,together with those of Perth and Glasgow, both of which have been erected with

in these few years, is one of those which is materially imperfect, inasmuch as no work-rooms were contemplated in its erection. This is peculiarly unfortunate, when we advert to the excellence of its situation, and the large sums which have been expended on it. But still this does not exclude improvement; and we are glad to be informed through Mr GURNEY, that our magistrates have some measure in contemplation for remedying this great defect in the construction of the prison. We hope, also, that it is not too late to attend to this important matter in the erection of the new debtors' jail. Mr Gurney continues, in the chapter from which we have already quoted,

"I am anxious, at the same time, to remind my readers, how much may be done for the improvement of our prisons as they

now are. There are none of them which

may not be kept in a state of cleanliness; none, in which proper allowances may not be made of food, firing, clothing, and bedding; few in which irons may not be rendered wholly unnecessary; none which may not be placed under judicious and kind su perintendence; none in which the ignorant may not be instructed; none in which some system may not be devised towards keeping the prisoners employed.”

We are sorry to find it stated by our author, that in several of the Scotch jails, irons are not only used, but employed in the most inconvenient and cruel manner. A most distressing example of this cruel mode of fettering was found in the jail of Haddington. It is thus described by Mr Gurney:

"This unfortunate person was fastened to a long iron bar. His legs, being passed through rings attached to the bar, were kept about two feet asunder, which distance might be increased to three feet and a half at the pleasure of the jailer. This cruel and shameful mode of confinement, which prevented the man from undressing, or from resting with any comfort to himself during the night, and which, by the constant separation of the legs, amounted to positive torture, had been continued for several days. We earnestly entreated for his deliverance, but apparently without ef

fect.

Another instance of the same sort was observed in the jail at Aberdeen; every feature of which, indeed, as well as of the Haddington jail, is a

disgrace to our country. Another stain upon Scotland is the treatment of destitute lunatics. A most deplo rable case of this sort was observed at Haddington, (now relieved through the intervention of Mr HORNE, the Sheriff-depute,) and two more at Perth. The condition of these miserable creatures calls loudly for legislative and magisterial interference, and, we trust, it will not be long withheld. At Perth, too, there was still another most disgraceful affair presented to the notice of our travellers. They observed in the prison of that town, "several King's debtors, who have no jail allowance whatever." And this, says Mr Gurney, 66 must often be the occasion of extreme distress, and not very improbably of absolute starvation."- Will the Officers of State, and Lawyers of the Crown, suffer such a ground for such remarks to exist permit, what was also observed in this any longer? Or, will they ever again: notorious jail of Perth, persons committed for some trifling offence against the revenue laws, to be thrown into a common room with eleven offenders, one of whom, of maturer years, was charged with a most atrocious murder?" We do not know if it could be possible to exhibit a greater number of outrages on humanity, and offences against the well-being of society, in such a small space, than was collected and exhibited in this Perth, prison.

"two young

We have not patience-we feel too much mortified, indeed, on account of the indolence, and indifference, and callousness of our countrymen to fol low our author in his account of the various jails visited by him in Scotland; but, as the work is a cheap one, our readers may, at very little expence, and with a trifling sacrifice of time, satisfy their own curiosity. One thing more, however, we must add to this list of grievances. In England, where a debtor may remain in jail, and enjoy the profits of an heritable esby his creditors, there is hardly a pritate, in spite of all that can be done son, we believe, which has not a yard or piece of ground in which its inmates, debtors as well as criminals, may have the benefit of air and exercise. In Scotland, on the other hand, where every species of property belonging to and at the disposal of the debtor can be taken from him by legal

procedure, and a full and fair surrender compelled, if not voluntarily made, the unfortunate debtor is confined within the walls of his prison. He is deprived entirely of the ordinary means of obtaining air or exercise, This likewise is a stain on our country.

There is an account given of the reformation of some boys confined in York Castle, in a note to page 7th, and a letter from a reformed female to Mrs FRY, (page 161,) which, had our limits permitted, we would have taken pleasure in laying before our readers. There are also two chapters of General Observations, containing remarks, information, and directions respecting FooD, Firing, SleepinG, IRONS, CLEANLINESS, INSPECTION, SUPERINTENDENCE, CLASSIFICA

TION, INSTRUCTION, EMPLOYMENT, and VISITING COMMITTEES, which are extremely valuable, and from which we felt strongly inclined to make extracts; but we must post pone all this, and also the discussion which arises out of it, to some other opportunity. In support of the view given of the increase of crimes at the outset, we may mention, that, according to the reports just laid before Parliament, and which have reached us since we commenced this article, there were, between 10th April 1818 and 28th January 1819, a period of about nine months, 23,104 forged notes detected at the Bank of England. Within the same period one hundred and twenty-three persons have been prosecuted on account of these forgeries; and two hundred and seventy-three persons prosecuted by the OFFICERS OF THE MINT for counterfeiting the legal COIN of the realm!

Emily; with other Poems. By THOMAS BROWN, M.D. Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh. 1 Vol. 12mo. Constable and Co.

DR BROWN is well known as the very able and ingenious Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, and it is enough to say, that he is allowed by all the students of that class to have supported in the fullest manner the chair so excellently filled by his illustrious predecessor Dugald Stewart. That he relaxes the severer labours of that

chair by the cultivation of poetry, is no derogation from the gravity of his professional character, especially when it is considered, that the greater part of the poetry which he has published is of a kind well suited to the subject of his graver studies, being of that moral, sentimental, and rather melancholy cast, in which the moralist in verse delights to indulge. We say the greater part, because, we are free to confess, that, in the first two small volumes which he gave to the world, there were a good many little pieces which rather fell under the denomination of what the French call Vers de Societe, things of a lighter sort, which, though highly pleasing to the friends or family circle of the author, who are intimate with and interested in their subjects, have so much less interest with the public, as perhaps somewhat to lessen the respect which should be attached to the teacher of morals, and seem not perfectly congenial to that deeper turn of thought which should belong to his character.

In the present little volume, and in that which immediately preceded it, Agnes, there is nothing to censure in the above respect. The subjects, as well as the manner in which they are treated, are of that pensive and tender kind which are intimately connected with morality, and may be considered as practical and beautiful illustrations of the great moral principles which are strictly the objects of the professor's severer studies. They delineate certain provinces in the map of the human mind, (if the expression may be allowed us,) in that delicate manner which marks their nature, and makes us acquainted with their properties, more intimately than mere didactic prose could accomplish, and extend, at the same time, the influ ence of their moral lessons to classes of readers who would not peruse or listen to the less amusing moralist, who should confine his lessons to preceptive truth or philosophical speculation.

The first and principal poem of this collection, entitled EMILY, is a story which has often been told, but never ceases to be affecting. It is that of an amiable girl, the daughter of a doating father, seduced by a promise of marriage made by a man of superior wealth and station, to leave her father's house and elope with her

seducer. The progress of her guilt, and its miserable consequences, are narrated in 15 sonnets; their consequences are such as have been often detailed, and though they have always excited compassion, have been but too unavailing to operate as warnings. She has been offered pecuniary com→ pensation for her dishonour, which she rejects with disdain; is reduced to the utmost distress and wretchedness, till she finds a miserable subsistence in the wages of prostitution, from which she is at last relieved by a premature death, after the contrition which was natural to her errors and her crimes, which prepared her for the forgiveness of her heavenly fa ther, her earthly one having early fallen a sacrifice to the grief and shame brought on his grey hairs by his ill fated child. The feelings of her mind, from her first deviation from vir tue, through the various stages of misery which that deviation produced, are described in eleven of the sonnets, which are monologues of the sufferer herself, together with four which are narratives of her distresses and death, which, as they could not be told by her, are supposed to be the composition of the poet himself. In those of Emily, the anguish and the shame are described in broken soliloquies which the tongue can scarce utter, while the heart is breaking under them. The abrupt and imperfect expression is such as must often leave the reader to imagine the feeling it is meant rather to convey than to express; to trace that "march of thought," as Mrs Montague has very happily expressed it, which it is the province of genius in the writer to conceive, and of imagination as well as feeling in the reader to understand. The following is a fair specimen of the author's power of tracing this progress of thought and of feeling, and of bringing it before his readers.

FATHER'S DEATH.

Yet, yet I live!Still throbs this burning heart,

Unrent with anguish ! O my first, last friend!

I-in thy very love, who saw thee bend

Thy fond embrace,-I plung'd the murderous dart.

Oft, by thy bed of sickness, have I pray'd

VOL. IV.

The gracious source of health, and, fearbeguil'd,

Have watch'd life's brightening spark; and thou hast smil'd,

Amid thy pangs, and bless'd my tender aid.

Now, thought'st thou, now, when all was lonely there,

Of her, the soother, who thy couch for sook ?

Mine, mine that dying glance-Ah! do not look

A curse upon thy child !-No! Thy mild prayer

Forgave me, sought Heaven's mercy to forgive.

And yet I think on all the past, and live!

There is a tenderness in the following, mixed with a gentle reproach a gainst the want of charity for sufferings of this kind, which will be felt by those humane persons (of whom we are happy to know there are many among our fair countrywomen) who, in the language of our poet, in his address to a lady to whom he sends this tale of Emily, are not of that hard and merciless kind, who, possessing less virtue in themselves than aversion to vice in others,

Of virtue frail, In chill unmelting caution sleep!

but of more amiable as well as more unsullied minds,