The gaol is a spacious building of common stone, one hundred feet in front. It is fitted up with solitary cells, on the new plan, and the apartments are all arched, to prevent the communication of fire. Behind the building are extensive yards, which are secured by lofty walls. This gaol is better regulated, perhaps, than any other on the face of the globe. By the new penal laws of Pennsylvania, lately enacted, no crime is punishable with death, excepting murder of the first degree, by which is meant, murder that is perpetrated by wilful premeditated intention, or in attempts to commit rape, robbery, or the like. Every other offence, according to its enormity, is punished by solitary imprisonment of a determined duration. Objections may be made to this mode of punishment, as not being sufficiently severe on the individual to atone for an atrocious crime; nor capable, because not inflicted in public, of deterring evil-minded persons in the community from the commission of offences which incur the rigour of the law; but on a close examination, it will be found to be very severe; and as far as an opinion can be formed from the trial that has been hitherto made by the state of Pennsylvania, it seems better calculated to restrain the excesses of the people than any other. If any public punishment could strike terror into the lawless part of the multitude, it is as likely that the infliction of death would do it as any whatsoever: but death is divested of many of his terrors, after being often presented to our view; so that we find in countries, for instance in England, where it occurs often as punishment, the salutary effects that might be expected from it are in a great measure lost. The unfortunate wretch, who is doomed to forfeit his life in expiation of the crimes he has committed, in numberless instances, looks forward with apparent unconcern to the moment in which he is to be launched into eternity; his companions around him only condole with him, because his career of iniquity has so suddenly been impeded by the course of justice: or, if he is not too much hardened in the paths of vice, but falls a prey to remorse, and sees all the horrors of his impending fate, they endeavour to rally his broken spirits by the consoling remembrance, that the pangs he has to endure are but the pangs of a moment, which they illustrate by the speedy exit of one whose death he was perhaps himself witness to but a few weeks before. A month does not pass over in England without repeated executions; and there is scarcely a vagabond to be met with in the country, who has seen a fellow creature suspended from the gallows. We all know what little good effect such spectacles produce. But immured in darkness and solitude, the prisoner suffers pangs worse than death a hundred times in the day: he is left to his own bitter reflections; there is no one thing to divert his attention, and he endeavours in vain to escape from the horrors