monastery, is the sentinel pacing to
and fro outside, but the moment you enter through the portal its real
character becomes apparent. You find yourself in a large square
curtilage, or, more correctly speaking, an extensive quadrilateral, in
the centre of which stands a church of the usual Byzantine order, the
four sides of the quadrilateral being the old monastery buildings, two
stories high, converted into prisoners' cells and dormitories, kitchen,
a workshop for making paper-backed books (_cartons_), and the quarters
of the prison officials. The scene as one enters the place is a strange
one indeed, and resembles what the Fleet Prison must have been in its
palmy days, with certain very significant modifications. It is the
receptacle of various kinds of prisoners, men and women awaiting trial
and others undergoing short sentences. All those were, on the occasion
of our visit, at large in the court, and some of the first-named who
were accused of homicide were chained at the ankles by order of the
'Juge d'Instruction.' There were about a dozen of them so manacled, and
before we left (the Chief Inspector of Prisons being our guide) these
men complained bitterly of the hardship of being chained when, as they
asserted, they were innocent. All classes of prisoners seemed to
associate without restraint, and although perfect order prevailed, this
freedom of association and conversation must be, and indeed is, most
inexpedient and injurious. Young men new to crime herd together with
hardened criminals, and we were told by a Juge d'Instruction, to whom we
subsequently spoke on the matter, that the free intercourse is greatly
provocative of crime. 'Young fellows,' he said, 'who, when they are
first arraigned, are disposed to admit their guilt and repent, come
before us, after a temporary adjournment of their cases, with quite
another story, evidently prompted by some hardened criminal whom they
have met in the intermediate prison.'

Every class was represented there, from the comparatively well-dressed
swindler and forger to the peasant and half-naked gipsy. The prisoners
appear to be leniently treated, and those who are unconvicted are
permitted to purchase such food as they please. The cells and
dormitories are not very clean, but they are comfortable compared with
those in another prison, to be referred to presently; the ventilation
within doors is good, and the open court has all the advantages of a
healthy convalescent in