Attributed to Dorthea Lynde Dix

 It is said that a grain of wheat, taken from within the envelope of Egyptian mummies, some thousand years old, have been found to germinate and grow in a number of instances. Beach plums have been produced by seeds contained in sands raised from deep wells whilst in the act of digging them, and at a great distance from the sea, on the beaches of which they usually grow. Even toads, and other reptiles, have been found alive in situations where it is evident that they must have been encased for many hundreds if not thousands of years.

 It may, however, be doubted, whether any instance has ever occurred in the history of the race, where the vital principle has adhered as tenaciously in the human body under such a load and complication of sufferings and tortures, as in the case of Abram Simmons, an insane man, who has been confined for several years in a dungeon in the town of Little Compton, in this State.

 The writer accicentally met a gentleman this morning from that town, who recounted in him the following facts, with leave to publish them, and there can be no doubt that they are correct.

 He stated that he  visited the cell of Abram Simmons during the past winter. His prison was from six to eight feet square, built entirely of stone--sides, roof and floor--and entered through two iron doors, excl fresh air, and entirely without accommodation of any description for warming or ventilating. At that time the internal surface of the walls was covered with a thick frost, adhering to the stone in some places to the thickness of the half of an inch, as ascertained by actual measurement. The only beadwas a small sacking stuffed with straw, lying on a narrow iron bedstead, with two COMFORTABLES for a covering. The bed itself was wet,  and the outside  comfortable was completely saturated with drippings from the walls and stiffly frozen. Thus, in utter darkness, encased on every side by walls of frost, his garments constantly more or less wet, with only wet straw to led man existed through the past inclement winter.

 A gentleman, who visited the prison last November, stated to the writer that even at that season of the year, poor Simmons shook with the cold. If so at that season of the year, it seems almost impossible that he should have survived through the past severe winter. His teeth must have been worn out by constant and violent chattering for such a length of time, night and day.

 “Poor Tom’s a cold.”

 The first mentioned gentleman also said, that in a conversation he lately had with the keeper of Simmons, he stated, in answer to his queries, that the cell was not at that time filled with frost, he having lately swept out several quarts, but that it was wet.

 Should any persons in this philanthropic age be disposed, from motives of curiosity to visit the place, they may rest assured that traveling is considered quite safe in that part of the country, however improbable it may seem. The people of that region profess the same Christian religion, and it is even said that they have adopted some forms and ceremonies, which they call worship. It is not probable, however, that they address themselves to poor Simmons’s God. Their worship, mingling with the prayers of agony which he shrieks forth from his dreary abode, would make strange discord in the ear of that almighty Being in whose keeping sleeps the vengeance due to all his wrongs.