THERE are three institutions in Charleston-either of which would be a stain upon the name of civilization-standing as emblems of the time-established notions of a people, and their cherished love for the ancestral relics of a gone-by age. Nothing could point with more unerring aim than these sombre monuments do, to the distance behind the age that marks the thoughts and actions of the Charlestonians. They are the poor-house, hospital, and jail; but as the latter only pertains to our present subject, we prefer to speak of it alone, and leave the others for another occasion. The workhouse may be said to form an exception-that being a new building, recently erected upon a European plan. It is very spacious, with an extravagant exterior, surmounted by lofty semi-Gothic watch-towers, similar to the old castles upon the Rhine. So great was the opposition to building this magnificent temple of a workhouse, and so inconsistent, beyond the progress of the age, was it viewed by the “manifest ancestry,” that it caused the mayor his defeat at the following hustings. “Young Charleston” was rebuked for its daring progress, and the building is marked by the singular cognomen of “Hutchinson's Folly.” What is somewhat singular, this magnificent building is exclusively for negroes. One fact will show how progressive has been the science of law to govern the negro, while those to which the white man is subjected are such as good old England conferred upon them some centuries ago. For felonious and burglarious offences, a white man is confined in the common jail; then dragged to the market-place, stripped, and whipped, that the negroes may laugh “and go see buckra catch it;” while a negro is sent to the workhouse, confined in his cell for a length of time, and then whipped according to modern science,—but nobody sees it except by special permission. Thus the negro has the advantage of science and privacy.

The jail is a sombre-looking building, with every mark of antiquity standing boldly outlined upon its exterior. It is surrounded by a high brick wall, and its windows are grated with double rows of bars, sufficiently strong for a modern penitentiary. Altogether, its dark, gloomy appearance strikes those who approach it, with the thought and association of some ancient cruelty. You enter through an iron-barred door, and on both sides of a narrow portal leading to the right are four small cells and a filthy-looking kitchen, resembling an old-fashioned smoke-house. These cells are the debtors'; and as we were passing out, after visiting a friend, a lame “molatto-fellow” with scarcely rags to cover his nakedness, and filthy beyond description, stood at what was called the kitchen door. “That poor dejected object,” said our friend, “is the cook. He is in for misdemeanor-one of the peculiar shades of it, for which a nigger is honored with the jail.” “It seems, then, that cooking is a punishment in Charleston, and the negro is undergoing the penalty,” said we. “Yes!” said our friend; “but the poor fellow has a sovereign consolation, which few niggers in Charleston can boast of-and none of the prisoners here have-he can get enough to eat.”

The poor fellow held out his hand as we passed him, and said, “Massa, gin poor Abe a piece o' 'bacca'?” We freely gave him all in our possession.

On the left side, after passing the main iron door, are the jailer's apartments. Passing through another iron door, you ascend a narrow, crooked stairs and reach the second story; here are some eight or nine miserable cells-some large and some small-badly ventilated, and entirely destitute of any kind of furniture: and if they are badly ventilated for summer, they are equally badly provided with means to warm them in winter. In one of these rooms were nine or ten persons, when we visited it; and such was the morbid stench escaping from it, that we were compelled to put our handkerchiefs to our faces. This floor is appropriated for such crimes as assault and battery; assault and battery, with intent to kill; refractory seamen; deserters; violating the statutes; suspicion of arson and murder; witnesses; all sorts of crimes, varying from the debtor to the positive murderer, burglar, and felon. We should have enumerated, among the rest, all stewards, (colored,) whether foreign or domestic, who are committed on that singular charge, “contrary to law.” And it should have been added, even though cast away upon our “hospitable shores.” Among all these different shades of criminals, there must be some very bad men. And we could recount three who were pointed out to us, as very dangerous men, yet were allowed the favor of this floor and its associations. One was an Irish sailor, who was sentenced to three years and nine months' imprisonment by the United States court, for revolt and a desperate attempt to murder the captain of a ship; the next was a German, a soldier in the United States army, sentenced to one year and eight months' imprisonment for killing his comrade; and the third was an English sailor, who killed a woman-but as she happened to be of doubtful character, the presiding judge of the sessions sentenced him to a light imprisonment, which the Governor very condescendingly pardoned after a few weeks.

The two former acted as attendants, or deputy jailers; with the exception of turning the key, which privilege the jailer reserved for himself exclusively. The principle may seem a strange one, that places men confined upon such grave charges in a superior position over prisoners; and may be questionable with regard to the discipline itself.

From this floor, another iron door opened, and a winding passage led into the third and upper story, where a third iron door opened into a vestibule, on the right and left of which were grated doors secured with heavy bolts and bars. These opened into narrow portals with dark, gloomy cells on each side. In the floor of each of these cells was a large iron ring-bolt, doubtless intended to chain refractory prisoners to; but we were informed that such prisoners were kept in close stone cells, in the yard, which were commonly occupied by negroes and those condemned to capital punishment. The ominous name of this third story was “Mount Rascal,” intended, no doubt, as significant of the class of prisoners it contained. It is said that genius is never idle: the floor of these cells bore some evidence of the fact in a variety of very fine specimens of carving and flourish work, done with a knife. Among them was a well-executed crucifix; with the Redeemer, on Calvary-an emblem of hope, showing how the man marked the weary moments of his durance. We spoke with many of the prisoners, and heard their different stories, some of which were really painful. Their crimes were variously stated, from that of murder, arson, and picking pockets, down to the felon who had stolen a pair of shoes to cover his feet; one had stolen a pair of pantaloons, and a little boy had stolen a few door-keys. Three boys were undergoing their sentence for murder. A man of genteel appearance, who had been sentenced to three years imprisonment, and to receive two hundred and twenty lashes in the market, at different periods, complained bitterly of the injustice of his case. Some had been flogged in the market, and were awaiting their time to be flogged again and discharged; and others were confined on suspicion, and had been kept in this close durance for more than six months, awaiting trial. We noticed that this worst of injustice, “the law's delay,” was felt worse by those confined on the suspicion of some paltry theft, who, even were they found guilty by a jury, would not have been subjected to more than one week imprisonment. Yet such was the adherence to that ancient system of English criminal jurisprudence, that it was almost impossible for the most innocent person to get a hearing, except at the regular sessions, “which sit seldom, and with large intervals between.” There is indeed a city court in Charleston, somewhat more modern in its jurisprudence than the sessions. It has its city sheriff, and its city officers, and holds its terms more frequently. Thus is Charleston doubly provided with sheriffs and officials. Both aspire to a distinct jurisdiction in civil and criminal cases. Prisoners seem mere shuttlecocks between the sheriffs, with a decided advantage in favor of the county sheriff, who is autocrat in rei over the jail; and any criminal who has the good fortune to get a hearing before the city judge, may consider himself under special obligation to the county sheriff for the favor.

We noticed these cells were much cleaner than those below, yet there was a fetid smell escaping from them. This we found arose from the tubs being allowed to stand in the rooms, where the criminals were closely confined, for twenty-four hours, which, with the action of the damp, heated atmosphere of that climate, was of itself enough to breed contagion. We spoke of the want of ventilation and the noxious fumes that seemed almost pestilential, but they seemed to have become habituated to it, and told us that the rooms on the south side were lighter and more comfortable. Many of them spoke cheerfully, and endeavored to restrain their feelings, but the furrows upon their haggard countenances needed no tongue to utter its tale.

Hunger was the great grievance of which they complained; and if their stories were true—and we afterward had strong proofs that they were—there was a wanton disregard of common humanity, and an abuse of power the most reprehensible. The allowance per day was a loaf of bad bread, weighing about nine ounces, and a pint of thin, repulsive soup, so nauseous that only the most necessitated appetite could be forced to receive it, merely to sustain animal life. This was served in a dirty-looking tin pan, without even a spoon to serve it. One man told us that he had subsisted on bread and water for nearly five weeks-that he had lain down to sleep in the afternoon and dreamed that he was devouring some wholesome nourishment to stay the cravings of his appetite, and awoke to grieve that it was but a dream. In this manner his appetite was doubly aggravated, yet he could get nothing to appease its wants until the next morning. To add to this cruelty, we found two men in close confinement, the most emaciated and abject specimens of humanity we have ever beheld. We asked ourselves, “Lord God! was it to be that humanity should descend so low?” The first was a forlorn, dejected-looking creature, with a downcast countenance, containing little of the human to mark his features. His face was covered with hair, and so completely matted with dirt and made fiendish by the tufts of coarse hair that hung over his forehead, that a thrill of horror invaded our feelings. He had no shoes on his feet; and a pair of ragged pantaloons, and the shreds of a striped shirt without sleeves, secured around the waist with a string, made his only clothing. In truth, he had scarce enough on to cover his nakedness, and that so filthy and swarming with vermin, that he kept his shoulders and hands busily employed; while his skin was so incrusted with dirt as to leave no trace of its original complexion. In this manner he was kept closely confined, and was more like a wild beast who saw none but his keepers when they came to throw him his feed. Whether he was kept in this manner for his dark deeds or to cover the shame of those who speculated upon his misery, we leave to the judgment of the reader.

We asked this poor mortal what he had done to merit such a punishment? He held his head down, and motioned his fevered lips. “Speak out!” said we, “perhaps we can get you out.” “I had no shoes, and I took a pair of boots from the gentleman I worked with,” said he in a low, murmuring tone,

“Gracious, man!” said we, “a pair of boots! and is that all you are here for?”

“Yes, sir! he lives on the wharf, is very wealthy, and is a good man: 't wasn't his fault, because he tried to get me out if I'd pay for the boots, but they wouldn't let him.”

“And how long have you been thus confined?” said we.

“Better than five months-but it's because there a'n't room up stairs. They've been promising me some clothes for a long time, but they don't come,” he continued.

“And how much longer have you to stop in this condition?”

“Well, they say 'at court sets in October; it's somethin' like two months off; the grand jury'll visit the jail then, and maybe they'll find a bill' against me, and I'll be tried. I dont't care if they only don't flog me in that fish-market.”

“Then you have not been tried yet? Well, may God give that man peace to enjoy his bounty, who would consign a poor object like thee to such cruelty!” said we.

“I was raised in Charleston-can neither read nor write-I have no father, and my mother is crazy in the poor-house, and I work about the city for a living, when I'm out!” said he. There was food for reflection in this poor fellow's simple story, which we found to be correct, as corroborated by the jailer.

“Do you get enough to eat?” we asked.

“Oh no, indeed! I could eat twice as much-that's the worst on't: 't wouldn't be bad only for that. I git me loaf' in the mornin', and me soup at twelve, but I don't git nothin' to eat at night, and a feller's mighty hungry afore it's time to lay down,” said he.

We looked around the room, and not seeing any thing to sleep upon, curiosity led us to ask him where he slept.

“The jail allows us a blanket-that's mine in the corner: I spread it at night when I wants to go to bed,” he answered, quite contentedly. We left the poor wretch, for our feelings could withstand it no longer. The state of society that would thus reduce a human being, needed more pity than the calloused bones reduced to such a bed. His name was Bergen.

The other was a young Irishman, who had been dragged to jail in his shirt, pantaloons, and hat, on suspicion of having stolen seven dollars from a comrade. He had been in jail very near four months, and in regard to filth and vermin was a counterpart of the other. A death-like smell, so offensive that we stopped upon the threshold, escaped from the room as soon as the door opened, enough to destroy a common constitution, which his emaciated limbs bore the strongest evidence of.

The prisoners upon the second story were allowed the privilege of the yard during certain hours in the day, and the debtors at all hours in the day; yet, all were subjected to the same fare. In the yard were a number of very close cells, which, as we have said before, were kept for negroes, refractory criminals, and those condemned to capital punishment. These cells seemed to be held as a terror over the criminals, and well they might, for we never witnessed any thing more dismal for the tenement of man.