When the Commissioners visited the Penitentiary at Lambeth, where the prisoners are punished by solitary confinement, they found in one cell a little girl, between eleven and twelve years of age. This child must have spent many hours every day in the dark; was poorly clad, and scantily fed, and her young limbs were deprived of all the joyous modes of playful exercise, so necessary and so pleasant to that age: she asked neither for food, nor clothes, nor light, nor liberty,--all she wished for was “a little doll, that she might dress and nurse it.” Her innocent and child-like request put an end to this cruel punishment for children. “I yesterday took my dear grand-daughter to see Westminster Abbey. She is between seven and eight years of age, and is one of the sweetest angels that ever existed on earth. It was a bitter cold morning: on the tomb of Mrs. Warren, who was a mother to poor children, there is a beautiful statue of a poor half-clothed Irish girl, with her little naked baby in her arms;--my dear little child looked up at me, and, through her tears, earnestly said, ‘How I _should_ like to nurse that little baby!’” YOUTH. Of the influence of love upon youth and inexperience, it can scarcely be necessary to adduce any instances. I must, however, mention one fact which occurred during the rebellion in ’45. “When I was a young boy, I had delicate health, and was somewhat of a pensive and contemplative turn of mind: it was my delight in the long summer evenings, to slip away from my companions, that I might walk in the shade of a venerable wood, my favourite haunt, and listen to the cawing of the old rooks, who seemed as fond of this retreat as I was. “One evening I sat later than usual, though the distant sound of the cathedral clock had more than once warned me to my home. There was a stillness in all nature that I was unwilling to disturb by the least motion. From this reverie I was suddenly startled by the sight of a tall slender female who was standing by me, looking sorrowfully and steadily in my face. She was dressed in white, from head to foot, in a fashion I had never seen before; her garments were unusually long and flowing, and rustled as she glided through the low shrubs near me as if they were made of the richest silk. My heart beat as if I was dying, and I knew not that I could have stirred from the spot; but she seemed so very mild and beautiful, I did not attempt it. Her pale brown hair was braided round her head, but there were some locks that strayed upon her neck; altogether she looked like a lovely picture, but not like a living woman. I closed my eyes forcibly with my hands, and when I looked again she had vanished.