_Abuses in Prisons._—In the year 1773, John Howard, emphatically called “the Philanthropist,” entered on his course of self-sacrificing, and almost unprecedented devotion to the interests of humanity, particularly as connected with Prisons and Penal Institutions generally. In the course of his examination into the condition of these Institutions, which he did by personal visits to most of them, not only in England, Ireland and Scotland, but in nearly all the countries of Continental Europe—he discovered that some of the penal laws in force were so erroneous in principle, and so evil and oppressive in their practical operation, that he was convinced they ought to be either wholly repealed, or so amended as to rid them of their obnoxious features; and also that there was a great want of salutary legal enactments, regulating the manner of construction and arrangement of buildings for Prison purposes, and establishing rules for their management when occupied. And in the Prisons he saw such an amount of abuse in their administration, and of misery on the part of those in confinement in them, as often shocked and deeply grieved him. Many of the scenes which he witnessed, and facts he ascertained, were truly heart-sickening. A few of which may here be briefly noticed. Speaking of the dungeons in the Conciergerie in Paris, he says, they “are totally dark, and beyond imagination horrid and dreadful. Poor creatures are confined in them for weeks—for months together.” In another of the Paris Prisons he states “that there are eight dungeons which open into dark passages. In four of these, 10 feet 8 inches by 6 feet 8 inches, I saw sixteen prisoners, two in irons, and all lying upon straw.” In the course of his account of the condition of things at Liege, in Belgium, he says: “The dungeons in the _new_ Prison are abodes of misery still more shocking; and confinement in them so overpowers human nature, as sometimes irrecoverably to take away their senses. I heard the cries of the distracted as I went down to them. One woman, however, I saw, who (as I was told) had sustained this horrid confinement forty-seven years, without becoming distracted. The cries of the sufferers in the torture chamber may be heard by passengers without, and guards are placed to prevent them stopping and listening. A physician and surgeon always attend when the torture is applied; and on a signal given by a bell, the gaoler brings in wine, vinegar, and water, to prevent the sufferers from expiring. ‘_The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel._’”