than any thing else that could have been offered; and, indeed, I was grateful to God, but not to the Captain, for the enjoyment of it.

A Reverend gentleman, by the name of Osgood, had taken a cabin passage on board the same barque, for Liverpool, and frequently visited us in christian. kindness—to pray, sing, and converse with us, which relieved the tedium of many an hour. He was a New Englander, and had seven times crossed the Atlantic, on holy missions to the poor and degraded of London; where he had spent, at one time, eighteen months of arduous toil in the service of his Master, subsisting upon sixpence sterling per day.

For the last ten days of the passage, Capt. Morton seems to have relented of his severity toward us; and, as if to conciliate Parker and myself, he especially allowed us to remain longer than the others, sometimes overcoming his fears sufficiently to detain us on the deck four hours, while others were coming up and going below in rotation; all the time, however, the guards were under arms, and kept strict watch. Morton appeared, naturally, a quiet, inoffensive sort of a man; but having arisen from before the mast, he was highly puffed up with the importance of his station. This opinion of himself, common with men of his country and class, connected with egregious cowardice, rendered him an intolerable despot. During our passage out of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and until we had passed the Grand Banks of New Foundland, the weather continued unchangeably cold and boisterous; but then became mild and moderate-in salubrity much

like our April and May-yet, when we approached the Irish coast, it assumed a colder aspect, and the dampness rendered it far less endurable to us than the American severe, though clear and dry atmosphere.

Our entrance of the Mersey was cheerless; more particularly on account of the mist and fog so prevalent all over England, at that season of the year.

My Dear Sir: After the expiration of twenty-five days, our passage across the Atlantic was completed, and our anchor cast in the river Mersey, three miles from Liverpool, on the 16th December, 1838-just thirty-eight days after leaving Fort Henry.

We were soon transferred to a small steam lighter, and conveyed to the city. We lay some time at the stupendous docks, where we had an opportunity of beholding, with wonder and admiration, the extent of those magnificent and greatly useful works of art, that have cost millions of treasure, and years of labor to complete. The tide was out, and we were many feet below the top of the quay, where was collected a vast multitude, betraying the utmost curiosity.

More favorable circumstances could not have well been afforded to test and learn the general feeling for

us; for a detestation, if felt, must break out in insult and violent expressions; but, to their honor be it said, that not the slightest disposition of the kind was exhibited, except by a sooty little chimney sweep, with the equipments of his order in his hand. But, on the contrary, all was calm sympathy, with a few low murmurs of pity and commiseration running through the crowd, that was grateful to the ears of the wretched exile; and, when we were all standing upon "terra firma," the throng having opened a lane for us, there went forth one continuous peal, with "God bless the brave Canadians, and speedily release and return them to their wives and to their homes."

Before we landed, however, the Liverpool owner, with a number of magistrates, boarded us, followed by the Governor of the borough jail, and a man carrying a load of burnished hand cuffs, with which we were connected in parties of four-"felon style." In the street near the dock, a number of carriages were drawn up; into which we were put, and whirled away to the old borough jail-an immense building, erected exclusively for the detention of French prisoners taken on the continent, during the struggle with Bonaparte-but which was now devoted to the punishment of convicted criminals. It is said to be capable of accommodating upwards of a thousand persons. At the time of our entrance, there were, as I was informed by an officer belonging to the establishment, about five hundred men and boys, and two hundred women. The boys were upwards of two hundred in number, and under the age of ten-all convicted of larceny, or felony of some de

gree-and under sentence of from six months to two years close imprisonment, on the silent system.'

In entering this palace, our carriage was driven by a postillion, with a guard on the boot. The heavy gates closed violently after us, as if to preclude the idea of ever repassing its dark and gloomy portals.

As we rattled up the paved court yard, beneath the frowning towers and grated windows, a melancholy satisfaction pervaded my whole soul; for it was indeed a pleasure to be, even thus, delivered from the loathsome habitation we had just left, though we entered a boding prison.

At the main entrance, we were obsequiouly received by the officials; and I wondered if it was not deemed a privilege to become a tenant, where so kind and favorable a welcome was administered. It reminded me of the picture I had somewhere seen, of the quaint affability of a landlord, standing upon his threshhold, dispensing welcome to his guests, well knowing that every new visiter added to his gains. I am sure he might well be lavish in retailing his good wishes, when each was worth at least a half crown to him. The doors were immediately thrown wide, and we were politely handed from the carriage, into a long, narrow hall, lined, on either side, with a row of sleeping cells, whose heavy, iron bound doors, with grated diamonds, weee not calculated to impress us with an idea of a repletion of comforts within. About half way up the hall, we turned a sharp angle, and soon emerged into a tolerably spacious yard, flagged with large flat stones, (as was the case with all the ground rooms, halls and

yards of the building,) and flanked on the outerside, and separated from another yard, by heavy walls, fifteen or twenty feet high, with a coping stuck full of broken glass bottles, formidable enough, in appearance, to deter the stoutest heart from any attempt to pass over it. In this yard we remained until dispossessed of all our iron embarrassments; and I can assure you, that, at that moment, I felt not only light footed, but light hearted also. We were next ranked in single file, and addressed by the Governor, (Mr. Batcheldor,) who stated, that Mr. Jeffries, of the Quebec jail, had forwarded documents to him, expressive of an exceding good character, which he was glad to see, and hoped we would maintain it; "for," said he, "character, in this country, with a prisoner, is every thing, and it may be in my power to do you a good turn in that way." The "board of visiting magistrates," who were present, with the lord mayor, and ex-mayor, expressed a deep regard for us, and a willingness to do any thing in their power, to meliorate our situations, and add to our comfort. They told us the establishment was conducted upon the "silent system;" but that they would. consider us exempted from an obedience to that rule. No tobacco, newspapers, or books of light literature, however, would be permitted; and no articles, of any kind, taken out from, or brought in to us—no letters, or written communications, should pass, unless first inspected by the Governor, who would always be ready to extend any favor compatible with rectitude-and if we felt ourselves aggrieved, in any respect, we only had to make it known to the board of visiting ma