He expressed at once so warm an admiration of the jail and the system pursued in it, that Hawes began to take a fancy to him.
They compared notes, and agreed that no system but the separate and silent had a leg to stand on; and as they returned together from visiting the ground-floor cells, Mr. Lepel had the honor of giving a new light to Hawes himself.
“If I could have my way the debtors should be in separate cells. I would have but one system in a jail.”
Hawes laughed incredulously. “There would be a fine outcry if we treated the debtors the same as we do the rogues.”
“Mr. Hawes,” said the other firmly, “an honest man very seldom finds his way into any part of a jail. Extravagant people and tradesmen who have abused the principle of credit, deserve punishment, and above all require discipline and compulsory self-communion to bring them to amend their ways.”
“That is right, sir,” cried Hawes, a sudden light breaking on him, “and it certainly is a mistake letting them enjoy themselves.”
“And corrupt each other.”
Hawes. A prison should be confinement.
Lepel. And seclusion from all but profitable company.
Hawes. It is not a place of amusement.