but she would never tell how she had acquired the language or any particulars of her previous life. She was placed in the way of getting an honest living when she left the gaol, but it cannot be said that much hope was entertained of her keeping to it for any length of time. Volumes might of course be filled with the strange and mournful histories, calling imperatively for human help, which are revealed to the unofficial visitor in a prison, but in these pages it is only possible briefly to mention the special classes among its inmates for whom efforts both in the way of moral influence and material assistance can be made with the most hope of success. First on that list stand the cases of persons who have been convicted of attempting suicide, or who, having been imprisoned for other offences, have endeavoured to destroy themselves in their cells. Too often those who are sent to gaol simply for the attempt, are innocent of any other crime than the moral weakness which has made them unable to endure the existence which misfortune has turned to agony. Generally they have acted on an uncontrollable impulse, and when time for reflection is given them in the quiet of their prison cells, and sympathy meets them there, to remind them that all is not lost with earthly joys, or hope impossible while life endures, they are speedily brought to a better mind, and are ready to accept with thankfulness the help which will enable them to take up the burden of existence again with courage and submission. Among the cases of suicide which came under the notice of the writer was that of a very respectable young man, who was found on inquiry to have been always of unblemished character. He had been employed in a large mercantile house in London, and his salary had been the sole support of his widowed mother and young sisters. He had unhappily a hasty temper, and an occasion having occurred in which he thought himself unjustly treated, he threw up his office in a fit of passion, believing that with his well-known good character he could soon get an appointment elsewhere. In this hope he was bitterly disappointed; every place was filled, every profession overstocked; all the ready money he had was spent in going from town to town, wherever he fancied work might be found. It was all in vain. His last penny was gone. He knew that his mother must already be in want, and if he even walked the sixty miles that lay between him and London, it would only be to tell her that he could do nothing for herself or her children. He came to a bridge raised high above a deep river, he sprang on the parapet and flung himself over; the fall was great and he sank; but he had been seen by some boatmen, and he was brought to the surface stunned though not dead. When he found himself in prison, the disgrace seemed only another reason why he should put himself out of the power of the suffering that mastered him in some more secure manner. But it was not difficult to convince him of his errors. He went home comforted and hopeful to his mother, and he is now intensely thankful that he was not left in the grave he had chosen for himself. On another occasion, that same river received the worn, emaciated body of a woman suddenly driven to despair after having borne a hard fate with great meekness. She had once been a happy wife and mother-her husband died leaving her with ample means for her support-but in an evil hour she married for the second time a man of very bad character. He soon began to ill-use both her and her children, and they being old enough to gain their living, went their ways, and left her altogether. During the years of wretchedness which followed, her husband sold her property, spent her money, and finally brought an infamous. woman to the house, whom he set in her place. This was more than she could bear; she fled from her home and from him; all she possessed remained in his hands, but she found that he could not be compelled to support her, because she had left him voluntarily. At first he gave her a little money from time to time, but at last he ceased entirely to do so, and, although she was almost dying of starvation, the remembrance of better days made her shrink from the workhouse. She attempted a last appeal to her husband for help, and arranged to meet him in the street, as she could not go to his house, where her supplanter still remained. He met her as he had appointed, and she found that his purpose in doing so was not to give her assistance, but to insult her with words she could not stay to hear. She rushed frantically away from him, and made straight for the river, from whence she was rescued by a brave man, who plunged in after her in time to bring her living to the bank. For the first few days of her imprisonment her state of dejection was such that the warders were apprehensive she would strangle herself in her cell-the only mode by which, as a rule, prisoners are able to put themselves to death, although they do sometimes succeed in taking a fatal leap over the staircase-but her time of detention was long enough to let the certainty of future help and protection do its work, and when she left the prison she was able to face the future with calmness and hope. As regards the female prisoners, however, cases of suicide are found to occur most frequently in that unhappy class for whom now, fortunately, so many Homes and Penitentiaries have been provided. It is among women of that description especially that much may be done by a visitor of the prison. Even if their state of desperation be not such as to lead them to seek a refuge in the grave, it is usually strong enough to make them believe themselves beyond the reach of human pity, and they are for the most part ready to welcome any succour that can be given to them. Next to these, the class of prisoners most capable of receiving benefit are the men and women who have been tempted to steal by want, and often by absolute starvation. It may be said that they have no excuse, because the workhouse is open to all; but that resource does not meet many cases representing the lowest depths of human misery, where the agency of a volunteer from the outer world may be of incalculable value. The recent action of the Home Secretary with regard to juvenile criminals renders useless any remarks on their condition in our gaols, or the efforts that might be made for their benefit during the period of incarceration. It remains to be seen what system will be adopted with regard to them in the future. At present the decision that no child under fourteen is to be imprisoned has only had the effect of seriously perplexing the magistrates, who must adhere to the strict letter of the law, and are now aware that the sentences they may impose in accordance with it will be immediately reversed by the Crown. In our opinion, the evils of imprisonment for children have been somewhat exaggerated, and if the determination that they are not to be exposed to it interferes with their ultimate committal to Reformatories, it will be much to be regretted. As the law stands they must be imprisoned before they can be sent to these excellent institutions, but the period of previous detention might be reduced to one day, or the magistrates empowered to sentence them at once to the industrial schools now so usefully at work under the School Board Act-otherwise it might be well that the French system should be adopted in this country which provides an entirely separate prison for the young 'détenus.' This plan may be seen in full operation at La Roquette, in Paris, where the building inhabited by convict children is at some distance apart from the prison of mature criminals. There is also a system designated 'La correction paternelle du Gouvernement,' which disposes of children accused of petty offences or general disorderly conduct, in religious houses, where they are under the discipline of their Church. It is certainly important that children should be cut off from all possibility of communication with experienced criminals, for, rigidly as the silent system is enforced in prisons, the ingenuity of the convicts contrives many unsuspected modes of communication, which sometimes become known to an unofficial visitor. It need scarcely be said that the most hopeless of all prisoners are the confirmed drunkards; but next to these in intractability are the professional tramps, who for offences of various kinds often find their way to the gaol. Their predilection for a wandering life seems to be an absolute passion, and it certainly is a strange phenomenon in persons who are not of Gipsy origin, but definitely belonging to the home-loving British nation. They admit, quite honestly, that it is a desperately hard life, tramping on day after day in all weathers, not knowing where they can lay their heads at night, often halfstarved and roughly treated; it is also a most demoralising mode of existence, as their only places of refuge excepting the workhousewhich they do not patronise-are low taverns and disreputable lodginghouses, where they herd together indiscriminately. Yet it is almost impossible to persuade either man or woman used to the road,' as they express it, to adopt any settled home. A recent instance of this kind was the case of an old woman, eighty-four years of age, who was so infirm that it seemed certain she must be found dead in a ditch some day if she did not check her roving propensities. She scouted the idea of going into the workhouse with lofty disdain; and when a refuge was found for her under the roof of some charitable persons she absolutely refused to avail herself of it. No one had the power to prevent her following her own will; and so, when released from prison, she took to the road once more, on an October morning, with the winter before her, and soon drifted away from the sight of her only friends. Still experience has shown that good influences within the prison can benefit to some extent even those poor wanderers. This slight sketch of the various classes of persons to be found in our gaols will, we trust, suffice, inadequate as it is, to show how useful a work may be done by the agency of voluntary visitors. They will find many difficulties in their mission, no doubt, but none which are insurmountable. Their position in relation to the prison authorities will always be critical, for the smallest error in judgment may at once cause the withdrawal of the official permission to enter the gaol. They have to remember that within those walls they are as much bound by the prison rules as the criminals themselves, and they have not only sternly to resist the efforts of the prisoners to render them a means of communication with the outer world, but they are in honour obliged to report any hidden misdemeanour which may come to their knowledge, although it must have the painful result of bringing punishment on the culprits. Their greatest difficulty, however, will be in dealing with the prisoners themselves, and that is much too complex a matter to be entered upon in these few pages. Only this may be said that the first step is to win their confidence, and it is best done by telling them plainly at the outset that their visitor does not come to them with any intention of reproving them for their crimes, which have brought upon them a punishment that needs no aggravation, nor yet to 'preach' to them in the unpleasant sense they would give to that word, but simply to befriend them in any way that may be possible; so that they soon find it their best policy, as well as a great relief, to give all details of their history without reserve. In conclusion, we must express our earnest hope that the permission to visit convicted prisoners may be widely extended amongst such persons as can be trusted to use their privilege with loyalty and common sense. Many wise men could be found, no doubt, who believe that such intercourse with criminals can do no good, and may accomplish much harm; that it can but encourage hypocrisy among beings so utterly depraved and irreclaimable, and that the only reason 2 An infusion of an element from the outer world is necessary to prepare a prison population for its return to that outer world-if, however, volunteers are to be admitted to the prison staff they must consent to be subject to military, that is, prison law-they must consent to act as officials and not as censors. . . when that lesson has been learned we do not think the authorities of prisons will be disposed to reject services which even now they must be aware it is beyond their power to supply.'-From the Times of December 8, 1879. able course to be pursued with regard to them is to let them hurry on to their destruction as quickly as may be, that the world may be the sooner purged of their poisonous presence. Yet even if these conclusions were correct, which we do not admit, as regards their future, this at least is certain in respect to the present -that such work as we have attempted to describe restores to the most desolate and forlorn of our fellow-creatures a sense of their share in the common humanity; and who in this twilight world can gauge the ultimate results of an influence which brings a gleam of light on utterly darkened lives, awakens the power of hope in hearts sunk in despair, and recalls to those who seemed forsaken by all the longforgotten vision of a mercy and compassion which endure beyond the grave? F. M. F. SKENE. SYMPATHY: A SONNET. DMIRING have I viewed the chemist's art, When with familiar means, a coil of wire, A cup, a jar, he makes the fire to dart, To die and dart again at his desire. 'Whence comes the spark?' some blunderer might inquire; The touch that bids it into being start. So hearts full-charged stand ofttimes cold and dumb, A. B. |
