CHAPTER XXVII.

The same subject continued.

The next morning I communicated to my wife and children the scheme I

had planned of reforming the prisoners, which they received with

universal disapprobation, alledging the impossibility and impropriety

of it; adding, that my endeavours would no way contribute to their

amendment, but might probably disgrace my calling.

‘Excuse me,’ returned I, ‘these people, however fallen, are still men,

and that is a very good title to my affections. Good council rejected

returns to enrich the giver’s bosom; and though the instruction I

communicate may not mend them, yet it will assuredly mend myself. If

these wretches, my children, were princes, there would be thousands

ready to offer their ministry; but, in my opinion, the heart that is

buried in a dungeon is as precious as that seated upon a throne. Yes,

my treasures, if I can mend them I will; perhaps they will not all

despise me. Perhaps I may catch up even one from the gulph, and, that

will be great gain; for is there upon earth a gem so precious as the

human soul?’

Thus saying, I left them, and descended to the common prison, where I

found the prisoners very merry, expecting my arrival; and each prepared

with some gaol trick to play upon the doctor. Thus, as I was going to

begin, one turned my wig awry, as if by accident, and then asked my

pardon. A second, who stood at some distance, had a knack of spitting

through his teeth, which fell in showers upon my book. A third would

cry amen in such an affected tone as gave the rest great delight. A

fourth had slily picked my pocket of my spectacles. But there was one

whose trick gave more universal pleasure than all the rest; for

observing the manner in which I had disposed my books on the table

before me, he very dextrously displaced one of them, and put an obscene

jest-book of his own in the place. However I took no notice of all that

this mischievous groupe of little beings could do; but went on,

perfectly sensible that what was ridiculous in my attempt, would excite

mirth only the first or second time, while what was serious would be

permanent. My design succeeded, and in less than six days some were

penitent, and all attentive.

It was now that I applauded my perseverance and address, at thus giving

sensibility to wretches divested of every moral feeling, and now began

to think of doing them temporal services also, by rendering their

situation somewhat more comfortable. Their time had hitherto been

divided between famine and excess, tumultous riot and bitter repining.

Their only employment was quarrelling among each other, playing at

cribbage, and cutting tobacco stoppers. From this last mode of idle

industry I took the hint of setting such as chose to work at cutting

pegs for tobacconists and shoemakers, the proper wood being bought by a

general subscription, and when manufactured, sold by my appointment; so

that each earned something every day: a trifle indeed, but sufficient

to maintain him.

I did not stop here, but instituted fines for the punishment of

immorality, and rewards for peculiar industry. Thus in less than a

fortnight I had formed them into something social and humane, and had

the pleasure of regarding myself as a legislator, who had brought men

from their native ferocity into friendship and obedience.

And it were highly to be wished, that legislative power would thus

direct the law rather to reformation than severity. That it would seem

convinced that the work of eradicating crimes is not by making

punishments familiar, but formidable. Then instead of our present

prisons, which find or make men guilty, which enclose wretches for the

commission of one crime, and return them, if returned alive, fitted for

the perpetration of thousands; we should see, as in other parts of

Europe, places of penitence and solitude, where the accused might be

attended by such as could give them repentance if guilty, or new

motives to virtue if innocent. And this, but not the increasing

punishments, is the way to mend a state: nor can I avoid even

questioning the validity of that right which social combinations have

assumed of capitally punishing offences of a slight nature. In cases of

murder their right is obvious, as it is the duty of us all, from the

law of self-defence, to cut off that man who has shewn a disregard for

the life of another. Against such, all nature arises in arms; but it is

not so against him who steals my property. Natural law gives me no

right to take away his life, as by that the horse he steals is as much

his property as mine. If then I have any right, it must be from a

compact made between us, that he who deprives the other of his horse

shall die. But this is a false compact; because no man has a right to

barter his life, no more than to take it away, as it is not his own.

And beside, the compact is inadequate, and would be set aside even in a

court of modern equity, as there is a great penalty for a very trifling

convenience, since it is far better that two men should live, than that

one man should ride. But a compact that is false between two men, is

equally so between an hundred, or an hundred thousand; for as ten

millions of circles can never make a square, so the united voice of

myriads cannot lend the smallest foundation to falsehood. It is thus

that reason speaks, and untutored nature says the same thing. Savages

that are directed by natural law alone are very tender of the lives of

each other; they seldom shed blood but to retaliate former cruelty.

Our Saxon ancestors, fierce as they were in war, had but few executions

in times of peace; and in all commencing governments that have the

print of nature still strong upon them, scarce any crime is held

capital.

It is among the citizens of a refined community that penal laws, which

are in the hands of the rich, are laid upon the poor. Government, while

it grows older, seems to acquire the moroseness of age; and as if our

property were become dearer in proportion as it increased, as if the

more enormous our wealth, the more extensive our fears, all our

possessions are paled up with new edicts every day, and hung round with

gibbets to scare every invader.

I cannot tell whether it is from the number of our penal laws, or the

licentiousness of our people, that this country should shew more

convicts in a year, than half the dominions of Europe united. Perhaps

it is owing to both; for they mutually produce each other. When by

indiscriminate penal laws a nation beholds the same punishment affixed

to dissimilar degrees of guilt, from perceiving no distinction in the

penalty, the people are led to lose all sense of distinction in the

crime, and this distinction is the bulwark of all morality: thus the

multitude of laws produce new vices, and new vices call for fresh

restraints.

It were to be wished then that power, instead of contriving new laws to

punish vice, instead of drawing hard the cords of society till a

convulsion come to burst them, instead of cutting away wretches as

useless, before we have tried their utility, instead of converting

correction into vengeance, it were to be wished that we tried the

restrictive arts of government, and made law the protector, but not the

tyrant of the people. We should then find that creatures, whose souls

are held as dross, only wanted the hand of a refiner; we should then

find that wretches, now stuck up for long tortures, lest luxury should

feel a momentary pang, might, if properly treated, serve to sinew the

state in times of danger; that, as their faces are like ours, their

hearts are so too; that few minds are so base as that perseverance

cannot amend; that a man may see his last crime without dying for it;

and that very little blood will serve to cement our security.

The Vicar of Wakefield · 第 27 / 32 章