This changed course in the warden, however, did not continue many weeks. That hearing and its acquittal had passed, and the Sylver affair was dying away, when, at length, I thus found him returned to his former spirit. Though early in the season, on a warm day, he had divested the sick of their flannels, and I suppose all other prisoners. Soon the weather became cooler, and I found a sick man in the hospital suffering greatly for want of his flannels, which articles, as he asserted, he had not previously been without, summer or winter, for twenty years. He was trembling with the cold, which much enhanced his distress. Going to the warden, I presented the case, and received the reply, "If he wants his flannels, let him ask the doctor." He could meddle in the matter enough to divest the man of the needed articles, but would not move to put them on, and thus mitigate his sufferings. It was then early in the afternoon, and the man would have to suffer till the next forenoon, the usual time for the doctor to make his visit. When he came, as I was informed, he lectured them severely for removing the flannels at all. 33. _The fate of Henry Stewart and others._ Henry was said to have been exceedingly unfortunate in his parents, they having been largely chargeable with his proclivities to evil. He was highly excitable, easily thrown into a perfect phrensy of passion, insane at times, and, on the whole, very difficult to manage, requiring a large amount of patience and skill in those over him. They needed to study his peculiarities and accommodate their treatment to his particular case, much the same as would the driver of a vicious, balky horse. The former managers had so treated him, that he had really improved, and his condition was appearing more and more hopeful. But in the new order, where officers were not expected to bother themselves over peculiarities, it was different with Henry. Though laboring with faithfulness generally, what was bred within would appear in outward acts. When a spell came on, they would "shake him up," as the deputy said (the import of which I did not fully understand), and put him in the solitary. At length his insanity, or whatever had impelled him, would pass off, and he come out in his right mind. Confinement to his cell would probably have been just as effective in securing his good deportment and less injurious to his health. Whenever I visited him, he would appear hopeful, tell what a good boy he proposed to be, how he meant to live, and not get into any more trouble; that he should soon be out, and would then strive to be a good man. Many air castles the poor fellow thus built, but to see them fall. The prison fare and general management was now highly unfavorable to his proclivities, tending constantly to make them worse. Men repeatedly told me that the officers would severely beat him, and that he was sadly abused. One day, in a freak of insanity or anger, he struck his overseer to the floor with a