granite, with the external faces exposed to the cold blasts of Winter, and the internal faces destitute of furring and covering. During the cold weather the crystals of frost remained upon the interior surfaces of the cell walls, "sparkling in the light, and benumbing the shivering prisoners." These stone dungeons were also as badly-ventilated as lighted. The air was close and almost insufferable. It was not without difficulty, at times, that visitors could avoid violent nausea upon entering the prison. The result was a great prevalence of rheumatism, pulmonary diseases, and diarrhœa, besides contagious and epidemic complaints of peculiar malignity. Neither was any hospital provided for the sick. The moral effect of this state of things was no better. Often ten and twenty convicts were crowded into one cell—the young and yet tender offender catching moral contagion from those utterly depraved.[1] All this Dr. Wayland, through the aid of the Legislature, speedily changed. A new building was constructed upon the most approved plans, and in accordance with all the teachings of modem intelligence and humanity. Under his personal supervision, also, the moral and religious condition of the prisoners underwent a corresponding change. He held Bible classes, composed of the convicts, and preached regularly to them on each Sabbath. Such ministrations must necessarily have attached them tenderly to his person. When the chaplain, on the morning of Dr. Wayland's death, said to the convicts in the State prison assembled in the chapel, "You will never see your friend. Dr. Wayland, again; he is dead," he was interrupted by their sobs.
It is related of Michael Angelo, that, once while walking along the streets of Florence, he suddenly observed in the pavement a block of marble of unusual beauty, and immediately stooped down and began to dig it out, unmindful of the scoffs and jeers of those passing. At length, being asked by a friend, why he was digging up a block of stone upon which "man had spit and trod," he replied: "I see an angel in it," and continued his work until he secured the coveted marble, out of which he carved the angelic figure that gave him his immortality. In like manner. Dr. Wayland, in his walks among the convicts, often discovered blocks long trodden upon and despised by man, but which he fashioned into reputable members of society; and some of whom, it is hoped, have, through his instrumentality, become angels of light.
- ↑ Report of the Chaplain of the Rhode Island State Prison, for 1856.
