THE PUNISHMENT OF CRIME.
In a previous chapter the deterrent action of punishment on the
criminal population has been pointed out. It now remains for us to
consider the nature of punishment, and the methods by which punishment
should be carried out. What is punishment as applied to crime?
According to Kant it is an act of retribution; it consists in
inflicting upon the criminal the same injury as he has inflicted on
his victim. It is an application by society of the principle of "jus
talionis." Such a definition of punishment does not harmonise with the
facts. We cannot punish the slanderer by slandering him in turn; and
in punishing the murderer, it is impossible to torture him in the same
way as he has probably tortured his victim. According to the theory of
retribution, punishment becomes an end in itself; it is quite
unrelated to the benefits it may confer on the person who is punished,
or on the community which punishes him.
The difficulties surrounding the theory of retribution have led to
other definitions of punishment. Punishment, it is said, is not
inflicted on the offender as a retribution for his misdeeds, it is
inflicted for the purpose of protecting society against its enemies.
Such a view leaves moral considerations entirely out of account; it
leaves no room for the just indignation of the public at the spectacle
of crime. It is defective in other ways. For instance, a criminal has
a particular animosity against some single individual; it may be he
murders this person, or does him grievous bodily harm. Such an
offender has no similar animosity against any one else; as far as the
rest of the community is concerned he is perfectly harmless. On the
supposition that punishment is only intended to protect society
against the criminal, a man of this description would escape
punishment altogether. Or supposing a man (and this often happens),
after committing some serious crime for which he is sent to penal
servitude, sincerely and bitterly repented of it, and would be, if
released, a perfectly harmless member of the community, such a man,
according to the theory we are now discussing, should be released at
once. The certainty that the public conscience would tolerate no such
step shows that punishment has a wider object than the mere attainment
of social security.
Punishment is only a means say some; its real end is the reformation
of the offender. The practical application of such a principle would
lead to very astonishing results. It is perfectly well known that
there is no more incorrigible set of offenders than habitual vagrants
and drunkards. And on the other hand, the most easily reformed of all
offenders is often some person who has committed a serious crime under
circumstances which could not possibly recur. According to the theory
that reformation is the only end of punishment, petty offenders would
be shut up all their lives, while the perpetrator of a grave crime
would soon be set free. An absurd result of this kind is fatal to the
pretention that punishment is merely a means and not also an end.
Is it the end of punishment to act as a deterrent? We are often told
from the judicial bench that a man receives a certain sentence as a
warning and example to others. If such is the end of punishment it
lamentably fails in its purpose, for in a number of cases it neither
deters the offender nor the class from which the offender springs. It
was under the influence of this idea that criminals used to be hanged
in public, but experience failed to show that these ghastly
exhibitions had much deterrent effect on the community. Besides, it is
rather ridiculous to say, I do not punish you for the crime you have
committed, I punish you as a warning to others. In these circumstances
the effect of punishment is not to be upon the person punished, but
upon a third party who has not fallen into crime. Unless the
punishment is just in itself, society has no right to inflict it in
the hope of scaring others from criminal courses. Justice administered
in this spirit, turns the convicted offender into a whipping boy; the
punishment ceases to be related to the offence, and is merely related
to the effect it will have on a certain circle of spectators.
In our view, punishment ought to be regarded as at once an expiation
and a discipline, or, in other words, an expiatory discipline. This
definition includes all that is valuable in the theories just
reviewed, and excludes all that is imperfect in them. The criminal is
an offender against the fundamental order of society in somewhat the
same way as a disobedient child is an offender against the centre of
authority in the home or the school. The punishment inflicted on the
child may take the form of revenge, or it may take the form of
retribution, or it may take the form of deterrence, but it undoubtedly
takes its highest form when it combines expiation with discipline.
Punishment of this nature still remains punitive as it ought to do,
but it is at the same time a kind of punishment from which something
may be learned. It does not merely consist in inflicting pain,
although the presence of this element is essential to its efficacy; it
consists rather in inflicting pain in such a way as will tend to
discipline and reform the character. Such a conception of punishment
excludes the barbarous element of vengeance; it is based upon the
civilised ideas of justice and humanity, or rather upon the sentiment
of justice alone, for justice is never truly just except when its
tendency is also to humanise.
"Sine caritate justicia
Vindicationi similis."
From the theory of punishment let us now turn to its methods. The most
severe of these is the penalty of death. A great deal has been said
and written both for and against the retention of this form of
punishment. To set forth the arguments on both sides in a fair and
adequate manner would require a volume; it must, therefore, suffice to
say that in the field of controversy the contest between the opposing
parties is a fairly even one. In fact, looking at the matter from a
purely polemical point of view, the advocates of the death penalty
have probably the best of it. It has, however, to be remembered that
such questions are not solved by battalions of abstract arguments, but
by the slow, silent, invisible action of public sentiment. The way in
which this impalpable sentiment is moving on the question of the death
penalty may be seen, first, in the manner in which crime after crime
during the present century has been excluded from the supreme sentence
of the law, and secondly, in the steady diminution of capital
executions throughout the civilised world. If the present drift of
feeling continues for another generation or two it is not at all
improbable, in spite of temporary reactions here and there, that the
question of capital punishment will have solved itself.
Another form of punishment is transportation. As far as Great Britain
is concerned, transportation possesses only a historic interest. No
one is now sent out of the country for offences against the law.
Experience showed that penal colonies were a failure, and that the
truly criminal could be more effectively dealt with at home. Within
recent years the French have resorted to the system of transportation;
but, according to several eminent French authorities, the penal
settlement in New Caledonia is hardly justifying the anticipations of
its founders.
Penal servitude has taken the place of transportation in Great
Britain. Every person sentenced to a term of five years and over
undergoes what is called penal servitude. The sentence is divided into
three stages. In the first stage the offender passes nine months of
his sentence in one of the local prisons in solitary confinement. In
the next stage he is allowed to work in association with other
prisoners; and in the last stage he is conditionally released before
his sentence has actually expired. If a prisoner conducts himself
well, if he shows that he is industrious, he will be released at the
expiration of about three fourths of his sentence. If, on the other
hand, he is idle and ill-conducted, he will have to serve the full
term.
During the first nine months of his confinement the convict sentenced
to penal servitude is treated in exactly the same way as a person
sentenced to a month's imprisonment; the only difference being that he
is provided with better food. During the period of detention in a
Public Work's Prison the convict may, if well-conducted, pass through
five progressive stages; each of these stages confers some privileges
which the one below it does not possess. The first stage of all is
called the Probation Class. In this, as well as in every succeeding
class, a man's industry is measured by a process called the Mark
system. This system is somewhat similar to the method adopted for
rewarding industry in our public schools. In those schools a boy's
diligence is recognised by his receiving so many marks per day, and he
would be an ideal pupil who received the maximum number of marks. In
convict prisons, on the other hand, the maximum number of marks, which
is eight per day, can easily be earned by any person willing to do an
average day's work. If a convict earns the maximum number of marks per
day for three months he is promoted at the end of that time out of the
Probation Class into a higher stage called the Third Class. He must
remain in the third class for at least a year; while in this class he
is permitted to receive a visit and to write and receive a letter
every six months. He is also rewarded at the rate of a penny for every
20 marks, which enables him to earn twelve shillings in the course of
the year.
After the expiration of one year in the Third Class the prisoner, if
he has regularly earned eight marks a day, is advanced to the Second
Class. In this stage he can receive a visit and write and receive a
letter every four months. He is allowed a little choice in the
selection of his breakfast; the value attached to his marks is also
increased, and he is able in the Second Class to earn 18 shillings a
year. At the termination of a year, if a prisoner continues his habits
of industry, he is promoted to the First Class. Persons whose
education is defective are not permitted to enter the First Class,
unless they have also made progress in schooling. In the First Class a
man is allowed to receive a visit and to write and receive a letter
every three months. He is also given additional privileges in the
choice of food. In the First Class he can earn 30 shillings a year.
Above the First Class is a Special Class composed of men whose conduct
has been specially exemplary. Men may be admitted into this class 12
months before their liberation; they may also be placed in positions
of trust and responsibility in connection with the prison, and are
able to earn a gratuity amounting to six pounds. Such men are, as a
matter of course, liberated at the expiration of three fourths of
their sentence, which means that a term of five years' penal servitude
is reduced to somewhat under four years.
For female convicts all these rules are modified and mitigated.
Isolation is not so strictly enforced; a female may be liberated at
the expiration of two thirds of her sentence; she may also earn four
pounds instead of three, which is the highest sum men can receive,
except the limited number in the Special Class. Corresponding to the
Special Class of male convicts, there is among the females what is
called a Refuge Class. Well-conducted women undergoing their first
term of penal servitude are placed in this class, and nine months
before the date on which they are due for discharge on ordinary
licence, that is to say, nine months before they have finished two
thirds of their sentence, they are released from prison and placed in
some Home for females. Two Homes which receive prisoners of this class
are the Elizabeth Fry Refuge and the London Preventive and Reformatory
Institution. These Homes receive ten shillings a week for the care of
each inmate confided to them by the State, and the time spent there is
used as a gradual course of preparation for the re-entrance of these
unfortunate people into ordinary life. According to this method
females, after a prolonged period of imprisonment, are not thrown all
of a sudden upon the world; they re-enter it by slow and imperceptible
stages, and are thus enabled to commence life afresh under hopeful and
salutary conditions.
Male convicts on their release from penal servitude are, if they
desire it, assisted to obtain employment by Discharged Prisoners' Aid
Societies. The way in which assistance is rendered by the Royal
Society, Charing Cross, which may be considered as a type of most of
these societies, is as follows:--
"The convicts on their discharge are accompanied to the office of the
Society by a warder in plain clothes. They are there received by the
Secretary and the member of the Committee who, according to a fixed
rota, attends daily for this purpose. The first step is to give them a
plentiful breakfast of white bread, bacon and hot coffee. When this is
finished they are invited to come forward and state their hopes and
intentions as to the future. Full particulars of the nature of the
crime, the sentence, and the antecedents of the convict have been
previously received from the prison, and this information is, of
course, of the greatest value as a guide to dealing with the
particular case. After friendly discussion with the convict at one or
more interviews, and further inquiry, if need be, by the officers of
the Society, the course to be taken in each case is decided upon and
carried out as soon as possible, either by the officers of the Society
or through other agency. In cases of emigration and other cases where
it is advisable, the gratuities received from Government are
supplemented by donations from the funds of the Society; and, if not
already supplied by the prison authorities, a respectable suit of
clothes of a character fitted for the work on which the recipient is
to be employed is provided.
"The cases of men or women who elect to remain in or near the
Metropolis are usually dealt with directly by members of the Committee
and officers of the Society; others prefer to seek work for
themselves; but, meanwhile, respectable lodgings are provided till
work is obtained. Others who prefer a sea life are sent to the care of
agents until ships can be found for them--a few selected cases are
sent abroad." In the case of persons proceeding to seek work at a
distance from London, the Royal Society communicates with Discharged
Prisoners' Aid Societies in the country, and these Societies take such
cases in hand.
Another admirable Society for dealing with discharged convicts is the
St Giles' Mission, Brook St. Holborn. This Society provides a home for
the person whose sentence has expired; it is managed by a man (Mr.
Wheatley) possessed of an unsurpassed knowledge of the work; and it is
year by year rendering effective service to the convict population.
Some idea of the work accomplished by Societies such as those just
mentioned may be gathered from the fact that about two thirds of the
discharged convicts are annually passing through their hands; the
other third declining or not requiring assistance by such methods.
What is wanted to perfect the working of the institutions we are now
describing is increased public support; even now the Royal Society was
able to state in one of its reports, "that no discharged convict, who
is physically capable and willing to work, has any excuse for
relapsing into crime."
This brief sketch of the manner in which a sentence of penal servitude
is carried into effect will afford some idea of the nature of this
method of punishment. We shall now proceed to describe another mode of
dealing with offenders against the fundamental order of society. In
addition to convict establishments there exists throughout the United
Kingdom a large number of places of confinement called Local Prisons.
In England and Wales there are about sixty Local Prisons; in Scotland
there are about twenty; in Ireland there are about eighteen. In
Scotland and Ireland persons sentenced to a few days' imprisonment are
often confined in police cells, in England all convicted offenders
serve their sentence, however short, in a regular Local Prison.
Before 1877 the Local Prisons of England and Scotland were under the
control and administration of the County Magistrates, and almost every
county had then its own prison. One of the chief defects of this
system was the multiplication of prisons; one of its chief virtues was
that local power kept alive local interest in a way which is
impossible with highly centralised machinery. Where prisons are small
and numerous, as was to some extent the case under the old system, it
is difficult to conduct them so economically; on the other hand, the
herding of great masses of criminals together in huge establishments
is not without corresponding evils. It is now being pointed out by
specialists on the Continent and in America that huge prisons destroy
the individuality of the prisoner; his own personality is lost amid
the hundreds who surround him; he sinks into the position of a mere
unit, and is obliged to be treated as such by the officials in charge
of him. Under such a system it becomes almost impossible to
individualise prisoners; there is no time for it; as a result, the
influence of reformative agencies descends to a minimum and only the
punitive side of justice comes home to the offender. At one time the
value of Reformatory Schools was seriously impaired by herding too
many lads together under one roof; it is now seen that the success of
these institutions is marred by making them too large; it is accepted
as an established maxim that the smaller the school the better the
results. The same principle holds true with respect to prisons.
When the County Magistrates were deprived of their powers by the last
government of Lord Beaconsfield, these powers were in England vested
in the Home Secretary; in Scotland they were latterly vested in the
Secretary for Scotland; in Ireland they are vested in the Chief
Secretary. Under each of these Parliamentary heads there is a body
called the Prison Commissioners or Prison Board. These Commissioners
are centred in London for England; in Edinburgh for Scotland; in
Dublin for Ireland. Under them is a body of Prison Inspectors, and
last of all there comes the actual working staff of the Local Prisons,
consisting of warders, schoolmasters, clerks, governors, chaplains,
and doctors.
Wherein does the Local Prison system as worked by this staff differ
from the system in operation in convict prisons? Perhaps the
difference will be best expressed by saying that work in association
is the centre of the convict system, while work in solitude is the
central idea of the Local Prison system. This definition is not
absolutely correct, for convicts, as we have seen, are subjected to
nine months' solitary confinement at the outset of their sentence, and
in some Local Prisons a certain amount of work in common is performed,
but, taken as a whole, work in common is the central principle of the
one; work in solitude the central principle of the other.
Work in solitude means that the prisoner is shut up in an apartment by
himself which is called his cell. Each cell is provided with an
adequate supply of air and light, and is heated in the winter up to a
sufficiently high temperature for health and comfort. The cell
contains a bed and other personal requisites; it also contains a copy
of the prison rules. Before the prisoner is finally allocated to a
certain cell he is seen by all the superior officers of the prison.
His state of health is inquired into, so as to determine the nature of
his work, and if he is not too old to learn, and has received a
sentence of sufficient length to make it worth while instructing him,
his educational capabilities are specially tested. The seclusion of
the cell is varied by a short service in the prison chapel every
morning and an hour's exercise in the forenoon. It is further varied
in the case of young boys by daily attendance at the prison school.
The cellular system is an application of the old monastic system to
the treatment of criminals. The first cellular prison was built in
Rome by Pope Clement XI. at the commencement of the eighteenth
century; its design was taken from a monastery. The idea passed from
Rome to the Puritans of Pennsylvania; and it has now taken root in all
parts of the civilised world. The believers in the cellular system say
that it prevents prisoners from contaminating each other; it prevents
the hardened criminal from getting hold of the comparative novice;
according to this system, although the offender is in a prison, the
only persons he is permitted to speak to are those whose lives are
free from crime. A prison system which has the negative value of
hindering men from becoming worse is worthy of high consideration, and
if the chief object of imprisonment is the punishment of criminals the
cellular system will not be easily surpassed. On the other hand, if
the purpose of imprisonment is not only to punish but also to prepare
the offender for the duties of society, the system of solitary
confinement will not effectually accomplish this task. On this point
let me refer to the words of M. Prins, the eminent Director General of
Belgian prisons: "Can we teach a man sociability," he says, "by giving
him a cell only, that is to say, the opposite of social life, by
taking away from him the very appearance of moral discipline; by
regulating from morning till night the smallest details of his day,
all his movements and all his thoughts? Is not this to place him
outside the conditions of existence, and to unteach him that liberty
for which we pretend he is being prepared?... Assuredly, let us not
forget that prisons contain incorrigible and corrupt recidivists, the
residuum of large towns who must undoubtedly be isolated from other
men; but they also contain offenders resembling in great part men of
their own class living outside.... If it was a question of making
these men good scholars, good workmen, good soldiers, should we accept
the method of prolonged cellular isolation? And how can that which is
condemned by the experience of ordinary life become useful on the day
some tribunal pronounces a sentence of imprisonment? The physiological
and moral inconveniences of prolonged solitude are evident in other
ways; and attempts are made to combat them by great humanity in
external things. So much is this the case, that for fear of being
cruel to the good, the bad are also pampered by an exaggerated
philanthropy which reaches absurd heights."
A compromise between the absolute seclusion of the cellular system,
and the system of free association, is now being advocated by some
students of prison discipline. Prisoners, it is contended, should be
carefully classified according to their previous character and the
nature of their offence, and also according to the disposition they
manifest in prison. Prisoners sentenced to a term of imprisonment
ranging from three months to two years should during the first three
months remain in solitary confinement for purposes of observation as
to diligence and character. At the end of that period a man, if he
showed fitness for it, would be placed in association during his
working hours, and in his cell during the remainder of the day. In
this way his social instincts would not be so completely stifled as
they are at present; he would not be so entirely left to the vacuity
of his own mind; he would not be so readily led to the indulgence of
disgusting vices ruinous to body and mind. In countries where prisons
are on a large scale such a system as this might easily be adopted,
and it would, if properly managed, be productive of beneficial
results. In small prisons it would be applicable on a limited scale,
the smallness of the prison population preventing proper
classification.
But all prison systems, however excellent in theory, are comparatively
useless unless conducted in an enlightened spirit by competent and
sagacious officials. The best of systems if worked, as sometimes
happens, by a mere martinet, with no horizon beyond insisting on the
letter of official regulations, will be productive of no good
whatever, and, on the other hand, an indifferent system will achieve
excellent results with a competent person at the head of it. This was
admirably pointed out by the head of the Danish Prison Department at
the Stockholm Prison Congress. "Give me," he said, "the best possible
regulations and a bad director, and you will have no success. But give
me a good director, and, even with mediocre regulations, I will answer
for it that everything will go on marvellously." In a recent handbook
on prison management by Herr Krohne, an eminent prison director in the
German service, the qualifications requisite for successful prison
work are clearly laid down.
The successful management of a prison, he says, "demands special
knowledge and ability. This knowledge should first of all consist in a
comprehensive general education, so that the head of a prison may be
able to form a competent opinion in all those branches of knowledge
which bear upon the punishment of crime. He thus stands on a footing
of equality with his subordinates. If he is deficient in this
knowledge he will not be able to carry out the sentences of the law
efficiently, and the maintenance of his official authority will be
encumbered with difficulties. He must also possess an understanding of
the economic and social causes of crime as well as of its individual
causes. An understanding of its economic and social causes supposes
that he should be acquainted with the principles of sociology and
political economy; an understanding of its individual causes supposes
that he should know something of psychology. The historical,
philosophic, and legal aspects of criminal jurisprudence as well as
its formal contents ought not to be unknown ground. In the domain of
prison science he should be thoroughly at home. He ought to be
acquainted with the historical development of punishment by
imprisonment, as well as with the nature of the various prison systems
in existence among modern civilised communities. He ought to have a
clear understanding of the aim and object of imprisonment, and be
thoroughly cognisant of the legal and administrative arrangements by
which it is effected, more especially those of his own State. He
should possess a competent knowledge of all matters and regulations
bearing upon prison administration, so that his own arrangements may
be based upon a ripened judgment.
"This knowledge in the head of a prison should show itself in his
manner of dealing with prisoners. This task demands a high degree of
pedagogic skill, and a force of character which is able, easily and
quickly, to bend the will of others to his own. He should also possess
the power of setting every branch of the administration to rights
whenever anything happens to have gone wrong. He must have a quick eye
for all that is being done; he must see everything; he must hear
everything; nothing should escape him; and still he ought to leave
independence and initiative to every officer in his own department. He
should respect and bear with the individual characteristics of every
officer, especially the superior officers, so that they may be able to
perform their duties with pleasure. In this way all officers will be
able to do their work in his spirit rather than according to his
orders. In order to succeed in this, the head of a prison should
consult with the other officials on all important matters; a daily
conference is best for this purpose. He should hear and weigh their
opinions even when the ultimate decision rests entirely in his hands.
Above all he must understand how to keep peace among the officials, so
that through their harmonious co-operation the objects of a prison may
be more certainly attained.
"A good prison chief," Herr Krohne continues, "is not matured or
educated, but discovered. On this account, the selection of persons
ought not to be narrowed down to any definite class or profession.
Experience has shown that able prison governors have been drawn from
all callings; from the law, from public offices, from the army, from
medicine, from the Church, from trade, from agriculture, from
merchants and manufacturers. From each of these occupations a man may
bring knowledge and ability which makes him suitable for the position.
His preparatory studies will teach him much, but he will learn most
from actual practice, and he will never finish learning, however
experienced he may become. But the root of the matter which can never
be taught is a heart for the miserable; a determination in spite of
failures and disappointments to despair of no man and nothing."[46]
[46] _Lehrbuch der Gefängnishunde von K. Krohne
Strafanstalts-director_, pp. 534-6.
Italy up to the present time is almost the only country in which
prison officers receive any preliminary training for their duties. As
a result of this, it not infrequently happens, as Mr. Clay has shown,
that an inexperienced person suddenly placed in absolute charge of a
number of prisoners will in a few days destroy almost all the
reformative work of months and perhaps years. The late Baron von
Holtzendorff was of a similar opinion, holding that one man can in a
short time undo the work of ten. So much has this been felt, that Dr.
von Jageman and several other eminent prison authorities on the
Continent maintain that no man should be placed in charge of prisoners
till he has had some previous training in the nature of his duties. It
has been truly pointed out that the value of imprisonment depends to
an enormous extent on the qualifications of the person placed in
immediate charge of the convicted men. Others are with them
occasionally, he is with them all day long, and unless he comes to his
task with a full knowledge of the delicate and difficult nature of the
duties he has to perform, he will probably exercise a mischievous and
irritating influence on the prisoners committed to his charge. On the
other hand, a well-instructed officer can work wonders in the way of
good, while insisting with inflexible firmness on the rules of
discipline, he is able at the same time by tact and kindliness to
diffuse a moralising atmosphere around him. Some men can do this by
instinct, but the majority require to be taught; it is therefore most
essential that every person entrusted with the control of prisoners
should have some previous theoretical instruction in his duties. After
all, those who can do most real good to prisoners are the warders
immediately in charge of them. Visits from persons outside who take an
interest in the outcast and fallen, are, according to French
experience, comparatively worthless.[47] These visits are well meant,
but they are not paid by the class of people to which the prisoner as
a rule belongs; the gulf between the visitor and the visited is too
great for the establishment of that inner sympathy on which the
permanent success of moralising efforts so greatly depends, and it is
easy for such a visitor to do more harm than good. On the other hand,
if you have a competent and well-instructed class of warders, if you
have these men trained to regard their duties from an elevated point
of view, you possess in them a body of men who are not separated from
prisoners by impassable barriers; you have comparatively little in the
way of social antecedents to estrange the prisoner from the person in
charge of him: such being the case it is easy for the two men to
understand each other, and is, therefore a relatively simple matter
for the one to influence the other for good.
[47] _Revue des Deux-Mondes, Avril_, 15, 1887.
What is to be done with offenders when their term of punishment has
expired? This is a question which modern society finds it exceedingly
difficult to solve. What is the use of punishing a delinquent for
offences against the law if, the moment his sentence is completed, he
is sent back again into the surroundings which led to his fall. So
long as his surroundings are the same, his acts will be the same,
unless his mind has passed through a revolution during detention in
gaol. The latter event, it must be admitted, sometimes does happen,
although it is not easy in these days to get the world to believe it.
And when it does happen it is marvellous to see how men, through their
own unaided efforts, will redeem their character and wipe out the blot
upon their life. But many offenders pass through little or no change
of mind, and unless delivered from their surroundings they will
continue to fall. Here, however, comes in the difficulty. Many of
these people love their surroundings; they have no desire to change; a
life of squalor among squalid companions is not distasteful to them;
on the contrary, they will refuse to leave old haunts no matter what
inducements are offered them elsewhere. It is hardly possible to do
anything with these offenders, and they unfortunately constitute at
least one fourth of the criminal population. Such persons return again
and again to prisons; and the manager of an important Prisoners' Aid
Society in a great northern city, says, that to aid them "is a mere
waste of money, if not an encouragement to vice."[48] How to deal with
persons of this description is a most tantalising problem. More
vigorous methods of punishment are sometimes advocated as the proper
manner of deterring these habitual and incorrigible offenders, but if
we consider the constitution and antecedents of most of them, it
becomes perfectly certain that such means will not effect the end in
view. As a matter of fact, most of them are not adapted to the
conditions of existence which prevail in a free society. Some of them
might have passed through life fairly well in a more primitive stage
of social development, as, for example, in the days of slavery or
serfdom, but they are manifestly out of place in an age of
unrestricted freedom, when a man may work or remain idle just as he
chooses. A society based upon the principle of individual liberty is a
society of which the members are supposed to be gifted with the
virtues of prudence, industry, and self-control; virtues of this
nature are indeed essential to the existence of such a form of
society. Unfortunately, a certain portion of its members do not
possess them even in an elementary degree, and no amount of seclusion
in prison will ever confer these qualities upon them. Imprisonment, to
be followed by liberty, however rigorous it is made, is accordingly no
solution of the difficulty; the only effective way of dealing with the
incorrigible vagrant, drunkard, and thief, is by some system of
permanent seclusion in a penal colony. All men are not fitted for
freedom, and so long as society acts on the supposition that they are,
it will never get rid of the incorrigible criminal.
[48] At a recent meeting of the Statistical Society, Mr. Murray
Browne gave some interesting information respecting the work of
Prisoners' Aid Societies among habitual offenders. "A question,"
he said, "had been addressed to all Discharged Prisoners' Aid
Societies asking what was their experience with regard to
prisoners who had been four times arrested but not sentenced to
penal servitude, and had been arrested during a given period, say
a year. How many of them has turned out (a) satisfactory, (b)
unsatisfactory, (c) re-convicted? Detailed replies were received
from fifteen different societies, not all working in the same way,
or with the same machinery, giving a total of 253 such cases. Of
these only 95 were reported as satisfactory, 55 were reported as
unsatisfactory, 66 were re-convicted, 37 being unknown or
unaccounted for."
It has also to be remembered that a considerable proportion of
incorrigible offenders are not only mentally but also physically
unfitted to earn their living in a free community. Almost always
without a trade, and very often the children of diseased and
degenerate parents, the only kind of work which they can turn to is
rude manual labour, and this is exactly the kind of work they have not
the requisite physical strength to perform. It is only in skilled
trades that the physically weak have a chance at all, and if a feeble
person is not a skilled artisan he will, unless possessed of superior
mental gifts, find it rather a hard matter to earn a comfortable
livelihood. Should it be the case that such a person is below the
average in body and mind, to earn a livelihood becomes almost an
impossibility. Now, this is exactly the position of many habitual
criminals, and more especially of that large class of them which is
being continually convicted and reconvicted of petty offences. What
can be said of them, except to repeat that they are unfit to take a
part in working the modern industrial machine; what can be done with
them except to seclude them in such a way that they will be no longer
able to injure those who can work it.
Outside the ranks of the incorrigible and incapable there exists a
large class of offenders who are perfectly able to earn a honest
living in the world. In many cases it happens that such men require no
assistance on their liberation from prison; they can resume work
immediately their sentence has expired. All that is needed is to send
them back to the district they were tried in, and this is what is
always done if a man cannot reach his destination by mid-day on the
morning of his liberation. But in a certain number of cases discharged
prisoners require more than this; they require tools, or clothes, or
property redeemed from pledge, or a lodging, or to be sent a long
distance home, or to be emigrated. In each and all of these cases,
persons who are not incorrigible criminals are assisted to the best of
their ability and the extent of their funds by Discharged Prisoners'
Aid Societies. One or more of these admirable institutions is attached
to every Local Prison, and every year a vast amount of quiet,
conscientious work is performed. These societies are voluntary
agencies formed for the relief of discharged prisoners. Their funds
are derived partly from private subscriptions and donations, partly
from ancient bequests, and partly from a small sum annually voted by
Parliament. They are conducted on the most economic principles, the
gentlemen who form the committee or who act as secretaries and
treasurers being mostly magistrates and men of substance, who gladly
give their time and services for nothing. The only person who has to
be paid is an agent whose duty it is to see that the recommendations
of the committee with respect to assisting the discharged prisoners
are carried into effect.
A glance at the work of one of these societies will be the best way of
forming a conception of their usefulness as a whole. For this purpose
let us select the Surrey and South London Discharged Prisoners' Aid
Society. In the prison in which the work of this excellent society is
conducted, 17 per cent. of the prison population applied for aid in
1887, and 10 per cent. were assisted, the 7 per cent. refused
assistance were habitual offenders, and had often been previously
helped. Of the number assisted, consisting of 969 persons, 54 were
sent to sea, 2 were assisted to emigrate, 913 were assisted in the way
of redemption of tools, purchase of stock, purchase of clothing, and
so on. In 1888, 929 persons were assisted, 54 were sent to sea, 4 were
helped to emigrate, and 871 aided in other ways. In 1889, assistance
was rendered in 1009 cases of these 36 were sent to sea, and 973
otherwise aided. The average cost per head of sending cases to sea is
three pounds, fourteen shillings; the average cost in other cases is
half a guinea.
What is being done by the Surrey Society is only a sample of the
assistance rendered to discharged prisoners all over England. It ought
also to be stated that some of these Aid Societies undertake to look
after the destitute families of persons committed to prison, and cases
innumerable might be mentioned in which prisoners' wives and children
have been assisted and kept out of the workhouse until the release of
the bread-winner. Other societies again provide permanent homes for
destitute offenders on their discharge from prison. All that is
required of persons making use of those homes is, that they shall earn
as much as will cover a portion of the expense of providing them with
food and shelter. For this purpose work is always provided for them,
or if they prefer it, they may find occupation outside and make the
home a sort of temporary resting-place. It is hardly necessary to add
that Prisoners' Aid Societies could effect much more if they were
better supported by the public. The organisation is there; the men to
work it are there; the only impediment to their labours is a lack of
funds. If the possession of adequate funds enabled all the Prisoners'
Aid Societies to establish Homes for discharged prisoners, those
institutions might be made of the greatest service to the cause of
justice generally. It would then be easy to get a return from them of
the number of persons whose criminal life was due to sheer indolence,
and magistrates would have far less hesitation in dealing with them
than they do now. At the present time, it is sometimes difficult to
know whether an offender is willing to work if he had the opportunity,
but the existence of prisoners' homes would soon solve the question.
Reference to a man's record in one of these institutions would at once
place the magistrate in full possession of the facts, and he would be
able to give judgment with a knowledge of the offender he does not now
possess. In this way many cruel mistakes might be avoided; and, on the
other hand, many hardened offenders dealt with in a more effective
manner.
The difficulty sometimes encountered by discharged prisoners in
finding employment, as well as many other evils inseparable from
imprisonment, has, in recent years, led an increasing number of
jurists to the conclusion that every other method of punishment
should, when the case at all admits of it, be exhausted before the
gaol is resorted to. "The very first principle of enlightened
penology," says Mayhew, "is to endeavour to keep people out of prison
as long as possible, rather than thrust them into it for the most
trivial offences." In many instances it is quite sufficient punishment
for a first offender in a petty case to be publicly rebuked in the
police court. Such a rebuke preceded, as it generally is, by a night's
confinement in the police cells, is just as effective as a deterrent
and far less likely to do permanent harm than a sentence of
imprisonment. It was something of this kind which Bacon had in view,
when he says, respecting criminal courts: "Let there be power also to
inflict a note or mark; such, I mean, as shall not extend to actual
punishment, but may end either in admonition only, or in a light
disgrace; punishing the offender as it were with a blush."[49] A
certain amount of progress has been made of late in this direction,
but there is still ample room for more. On the other hand, experience
has shown that light punishments are of no avail against habitual
offenders. For the last few years this system has been in operation in
the borough of Liverpool, with the result that the number of known
thieves apprehended for indictable crimes has almost doubled within a
comparatively short period. According to the Chief Constable's Report,
the numbers were, in--
1885 1886 1887 1888 1889
377 470 533 596 731
These figures show that habitual criminals will not be deterred by
light sentences, but rather emboldened in their sinister career.
[49] _De Augmentis_ VIII. _Aphorism_ 40.
THE END.
APPENDICES TO CRIME AND ITS CAUSES.
APPENDIX I.
Form suggested by Herr Krohne to be filled up by the police or other
agency respecting prisoners for trial.
1. BIRTH.
Place? County? Country?
Date?
Legitimate? or illegitimate?
2. UPBRINGING.
By parents?
By others?
In a public institution?
3. SCHOOLING.
School attendance, regular or not?
Knowledge, Extent of?
Confirmed, or not?
Religious belief?
4. OCCUPATION.
What trade?
Served Apprenticeship, or not?
5. MILITARY TRAINING.
Whether served? and where?
6. IMPRISONMENTS.
How many?
In Local Prisons?
In Penal Servitude?
Other Punishments?
7. PARENTAGE.
Name? Abode? Occupation?
Alive or Dead?
Cause of death? Suicide?
Temperate, or not?
Imprisoned, or not?
Were Parents related?
8. BROTHERS AND SISTERS.
Name? Age? Abode?
Occupation?
How many dead? and of what diseases? Suicide?
Imprisoned, or not?
Temperate, or not?
9. MEANS OF LIVING.
With or Without?
Destitute?
A Pauper?
A Beggar?
10. INDIVIDUAL CHARACTERISTICS.
Character? Temperament?
Mental Capacity?
Habits? Drunken or other?
Indolent?
11. MENTAL AND BODILY STATE.
(_a_) Fits or Convulsions in Childhood, Epilepsy, St. Vitus
Dance, or other nervous diseases?
Insanity? Scrofula? Tuberculosis?
(_b_) Mental and bodily state of near relations same as above?
12. MARRIED.
Maiden name of wife?
Imprisoned?
If Children; How many?
Age, and state of Health?
How many dead?
Of what Disease?
Any imprisoned?
The Home good, or bad?
APPENDIX II.
Growth of Reformatory and Industrial School Population in England and
Scotland.
Industrial Schools Day
Year Reformatory (Including Truant Industrial
Schools. Schools). Schools.
1859 3,276
1860 3,702
1861 4,133
1862 4,283
1863 4,302
1864 4,286 1,668
1865 4,508 1,952
1866 4,798 2,462
1867 5,110 3,802
1868 5,320 5,562
1869 5,480 6,974
1870 5,433 8,280
1871 5,419 9,421
1872 5,575 10,185
1873 5,621 11,012
1874 5,688 11,409
1875 5,615 11,776
1876 5,634 12,555
1877 5,935 13,494
1878 5,963 14,106
1879 5,975 14,847 287
1880 5,927 15,136 1,005
1881 6,738 16,955 1,493
1882 6,601 17,614 1,692
1883 6,557 18,780 2,083
1884 6,360 19,483 1,876
1885 6,241 20,250 2,324
1886 6,272 20,668 2,444
1887 6,127 20,940 2,622
1888 5,984 21,426 2,783
1889 5,940 21,059 3,197
APPENDIX III.
Return showing the number of Prisoners committed to the Local Prisons
of England and Wales in each Month of the Year ended 31st March, 1890.
| Month. | Males. |Females.| Total. |
|1889. April | 10,701 | 3,401 | 14,102 |
| May | 11,777 | 4,123 | 15,900 |
| June | 9,977 | 3,717 | 13,694 |
| July | 11,499 | 4,171 | 15,670 |
| August | 10,894 | 3,965 | 14,859 |
| September| 11,113 | 4,088 | 15,201 |
| October | 11,670 | 4,245 | 15,915 |
| November | 10,615 | 3,777 | 14,392 |
| December | 9,154 | 3,157 | 12,311 |
|1890. January | 9,993 | 3,154 | 13,147 |
| February | 8,990 | 3,037 | 12,027 |
| March | 10,052 | 3,196 | 13,248 |
------ ----- ------
| Total |126,435 | 44,031 |170,466 |
End of Project Gutenberg's Crime and Its Causes, by William Douglas Morrison