I had been committing the Gospels hear you them or not.”  By a light to heart, and that he was just that flashed into his eye I saw beginning St. John, which now he he comprehended the equivoque; should never finish.  I said he but he suppressed his intelligence must finish it at home in the and answered piously, intervals of honest labor.  His “That they will, your reverence.” countenance brightened, and he said he would.

A most cheering case, and one of the best proofs of the efficacy of the separate and silent system I have met with for some time.  I fear I almost grudge you the possession of such an example.

Robinson—­ A bad subject, Robinson.—­This man wears a rebellious and savage; refuses to singular look of scorn as well speak.  Time and the discipline as hatred, which, coupled with will probably break him of this; his repeated refusals to speak but I do not think he will ever to me, provoked me so that I make a good prisoner! felt strongly tempted to knock
him down.  How unworthy, to be
provoked at anything a great
sufferer can say or do; every
solitary prisoner must surely be
a great sufferer.

My judgment is quite at fault here.  I know no more than a child what is this man’s character, and the cause of his strange conduct.

Mem.  Inquire his antecedents of the turnkeys.  Oh, Lord, enlighten me, and give me wisdom for the great and deep and difficult task I have so boldly undertaken!

The next day the new chaplain met the surgeon in the jail and took him into Josephs’ cell.

“He only wants a little rest and nourishing food; he would be the better for a little amusement, but—­” and the man of science shrugged his shoulders.

“Can you read?” said Mr. Lepel.

“Very little, sir.”

“Let the schoolmaster come to him every day,” suggested that experienced individual.  He knew what separate confinement was.  What bores a boy out of prison amuses him in it.

Hawes gave a cold consent.  So poor little Josephs had a richer diet and rest from crank and pillory, and the schoolmaster spent half an hour every day teaching him; and above all, the new chaplain sat in his cell and told him stories that interested him—­told him how very wicked some boys had been; what a many clever wicked things they had done and not been happy, then how they had repented and learned to pray to be good, and how by Divine help they had become good, and how some had gone to heaven soon after, and were now happy and pure as the angels; and others had stayed on earth and were good and honest and just men; not so happy as those others who were dead, but content (and that the wicked never are), and waiting God’s pleasure to go away and be happy forever.

Josephs listened to the good chaplain’s tales and conversation with wonderful interest, and his face always brightened when that gentleman came into his cell.  The schoolmaster reported him not quick, but docile.  These were his halcyon days.