I incline as little to
the sickly feeling which makes every canting lie or maudlin speech
of a notorious criminal a subject of newspaper report and general
sympathy, as I do to those good old customs of the good old times
which made England, even so recently as in the reign of the Third
King George, in respect of her criminal code and her prison
regulations, one of the most bloody-minded and barbarous countries
on the earth. If I thought it would do any good to the rising
generation, I would cheerfully give my consent to the disinterment
of the bones of any genteel highwayman (the more genteel, the more
cheerfully), and to their exposure, piecemeal, on any sign-post,
gate, or gibbet, that might be deemed a good elevation for the
purpose. My reason is as well convinced that these gentry were as
utterly worthless and debauched villains, as it is that the laws
and jails hardened them in their evil courses, or that their
wonderful escapes were effected by the prison-turnkeys who, in
those admirable days, had always been felons themselves, and were,
to the last, their bosom-friends and pot-companions. At the same
time I know, as all men do or should, that the subject of Prison
Discipline is one of the highest importance to any community; and
that in her sweeping reform and bright example to other countries
on this head, America has shown great wisdom, great benevolence,
and exalted policy.
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