“Indeed, an' ye'll larn to ate any thing win ye'd be here a month. But be dad, if ye don't watch number one about here, ye's won't get much nohow,” replied Daley, dropping the bloody neck upon the floor, and walking out. “Better take it,” said Copeland. “There's no choice, and hunger don't stand for dainties, especially in this jail, where everybody is famished for punishment. If we don't eat it, we can give it to some of the poor prisoners up-stairs.” “While I have good ship-owners, and a good Captain, I never will eat such stuff as that; oh! no,” returned Manuel. The meat was laid in a corner for the benefit of the flies; and when dinner time arrived, the same hard extreme arrived with it-bread and water. And nobody seemed to have any anxieties on their behalf; for two of them had written notes to their Captains, on the day previous, but they remained in the office for want of a messenger to carry them. Fortunately, Jane called upon them in the afternoon, and brought a nice dish of rice and another of homony. We will here insert a letter we received from a very worthy friend, who, though he had done much for the Charleston people, and been repaid in persecutions, was thrown into jail for a paltry debt by a ruthless creditor. Cleared by a jury of twelve men, he was held in confinement through the wretched imperfection of South Carolina law, to await nearly twelve months for the sitting of the “Appeal Court,” more to appease the vindictiveness of his enemies than to satisfy justice, for it was well understood that he did not owe the debt. His letter speaks for itself. Charleston Jail, March 31, '52. MY DEAR FRIEND,--I could not account for your absence during the last few days, until this morning, when Mr. F***** called upon me for a few moments, and from him I learnt that you had been quite unwell. If you are about to-morrow, do call upon me; for a more dreary place, or one where less regard is paid to the calls of humanity, cannot be found among the nations of the earth. Such is the ordinary condition of suffering within this establishment, that men, and even women, are forced to all kinds of extremes to sustain life; and, to speak what experience has taught me, crime is more increased than reduced by this wretched system. There seems to be little distinction among the prisoners, and no means to observe it, except in what is called Mount Rascal on the third story. Pilfering is so common, that you cannot leave your room without locking your door. The jailer is a good, kind-hearted old man, very often giving from his own table to relieve the wants of debtors, many of whom repay him with ingratitude. I have suffered many privations from shipwreck and cold, but never until I came to South Carolina was I compelled to endure imprisonment and subsist several days upon bread and water.