=Source.=--Goldsmith’s _Vicar of Wakefield_ (Chap. XXVII.).
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, alleging 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 counsel 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 gulf, and there
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 dexterously 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 group 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 service also, by rendering
their situation somewhat more comfortable. Their time had hitherto
been divided between famine and excess, tumultuous 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 to 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 shown a disregard
for the life of another. Against such all nature rises 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, any more than to take it away, as it is not his own.
And, besides, 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 inconvenience, 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 a hundred and a 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, scarcely 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 show 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.