Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/278

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
274
EVENING DEVOTIONS IN A PRISON.


Deep root, within a soil subdued,
    Let true repentance take,
And be its fruits a life renewed,
    For the Redeemer's sake.

Uplift our spirits from the ground,
    Give to our darkness, light;
Oh, Thou ! whose mercies have no bound,
    Preserve us safe this night.




All researches into the history of earlier ages, result in giving prominence to prisons as among the strongest engines of tyranny. Despotic princes found them convenient retreats for the conquered foe, the noble, whose estates they wished to confiscate, or the rival, whose eye was upon their throne. The legends of baronial dungeons sleep in the darkness of feudal times. In every age the oppressor hath, at his will, "held the body bound"; and none may compute the number of souls, whose only liberator was death. Though the progress of civilization and refinement mitigated the savage features of these penal institutions, yet it was long ere humanity dreamed of making their discipline salutary. Disregard to the moral health of those who, as a gangrene, had been divided from society, still prevailed; and promiscuous association rendered the novice in guilt, as hardened as the hoary offender.

For the praise of modern times, and for the mild