That the conduct of the keepers in respect to the correspondence of the prisoners is highly improper, no one will attempt to deny. That correspondence is sacred, and no unfeeling or capricious regulations ought ever to interrupt it. The tender sympathies of friendship are not destroyed, though the heart that contains them is chilled by a dungeon's damps and a prison's gloom. A father is a father still. A husband is a husband still. And dear to the heart are the thoughts of his children, and the recollections of his wife. These are as imperishable as his nature, and who that ever had a heart could touch lightly the sacred ark of his happiness? How infernal must be the nature of that man who can wantonly crucify the holy sympathies of a trembling sufferer? But it is not the sinner alone who suffers by this conduct of men in power, it is the innocent too; and who but a fiend would punish the innocent with the guilty? It would denote a moral and perfect fitness for any place but heaven, to take pleasure in afflicting, unnecessarily, even the vilest sinner; what then must be the moral complexion of that man's soul, who can sport with the unmerited sufferings of the crimeless, and take an unearthly satisfaction in multiplying the tears and agony of the innocent wife and the stainless orphan? But such men there are, and well I know them.
COURTSHIP IN PRISON.
The age of romance has not yet passed away, and an incident that might have originated a Poem in the days of Ovid, or a Novel in the land of Sir Walter, transpired in the beautiful and romantic village of Windsor; and though it may not chime very harmoniously with the other tones of my book, yet as it contains a moral, much needed at this period of the world, I will gratify the reader with an account of it.
S. was one of those very common specimens of our race, on which a graceful and captivating exterior is lavished at the expense of the more valuable and lasting graces of the mind. Every eye that saw him gave evidence that it was contemplating something in which there was no blemish; and this evident satisfaction continued till he spoke—then, the contrast between external beauty and mental poverty was so great, that the charm vanished and the angel departed. For some crime or other, he became one of the inhabitants of the prison, where his personal charms fastened on the heart of a female who afterwards became his wife.
This lady belonged to a respectable family and was esteemed by all her acquaintances, and in giving herself to S. she committed the only fault of her life.
A friend of hers was an officer of the prison, and she spent some of her time in his family. In that place, she could see all the prisoners every day, and there she first saw her future husband. Love is said to be blind, and there is some reason for the opinion. Why an esteemed and virtuous young lady, should permit herself to be captivated by a prisoner, cannot be accounted for but by supposing that love can steal the march of reason, and that wisdom and prudence are feeble springs against the force of passion.
"Veni, vidi, vici," said the Roman Conqueror, when he had vanquished his foes; but this victim of thoughtless passion had occasion to say in the sequel—"I saw, I loved, and I was ruined."
She found means, after she became a prisoner to his charms, to communicate her wishes to the idol of her breast, by proxy at first, and afterwards by personal interviews. The proxy was an old man who used to go into the keeper's room to wash and clean the floor, and his appearance was enough to have frightened love to distraction. But necessity compelled them, and many a bundle of soft sighs did he carry between these romantic lovers.
After some time she found an opportunity of taking his hand in hers, and of telling him all that was in her heart. Willing to be loved, though incapable of that warm emotion himself, he followed as she led, and the sweet promises were made, which were to bind them heart and hand for life.
And now, warm with visionary bliss, she had only to wait a few years for his sentence to expire, for the consummation of her desires. A few years! Love is impatient, and to look through years, when days are months, before the anticipated joy can be realized, was too much, and, therefore, effort must be used to get him pardoned. It would have been cruel in the extreme, not to have pardoned the charming idol under such circumstances, and as the Executive was composed of feeling hearts, her desire was granted, and she took the object of her adoration to her nuptial arms, the day that his pardon reached him.