LA FORCE.


The interior of a prison is a frightful pandemonium--a sad
_thermometer_ of the state of society, and an instructive study.

In a word, the varied physiognomies of all classes of prisoners, the
relations of family or affection which connects them still to the world,
from which the prison walls separate them, have appeared to us worthy of
regard.

The reader will, then, excuse us for having grouped around several of the
prisoners personages to be known in this tale, and other secondary figures,
destined to place in active relief certain critical events necessary to
complete this initiation into prison life. Let us enter La Force.

There is nothing gloomy, nothing sinister in the aspect of this house of
detention.

In the middle of one of the first courts are to be seen some mounds of
earth, planted with shrubbery, at the foot of which are already shooting
forth some precocious cowslips and snowdrops; a trellised doorway leads to
one of the seven or eight exercise-grounds destined for the prisoners.

The vast buildings surrounding this court resemble much a barrack or
manufactory, kept with extreme neatness. They are built of limestone, with
lofty windows, in order to allow a free circulation of air. The steps and
pavement of the yard are of scrupulous cleanliness. On the ground-floor,
vast halls, heated during winter, and well aired during summer, serve
during the day as a place for conversation, workshops, or refectories. The