I OFFER no apology for entreating the attention of the readers of _The
Daily News_ to an effort which has been making for some three years and a
half, and which is making now, to introduce among the most miserable and
neglected outcasts in London, some knowledge of the commonest principles
of morality and religion; to commence their recognition as immortal human
creatures, before the Gaol Chaplain becomes their only schoolmaster; to
suggest to Society that its duty to this wretched throng, foredoomed to
crime and punishment, rightfully begins at some distance from the police
office; and that the careless maintenance from year to year, in this, the
capital city of the world, of a vast hopeless nursery of ignorance,
misery and vice; a breeding place for the hulks and jails: is horrible to
contemplate.
This attempt is being made in certain of the most obscure and squalid
parts of the Metropolis, where rooms are opened, at night, for the
gratuitous instruction of all comers, children or adults, under the title
of RAGGED SCHOOLS. The name implies the purpose. They who are too
ragged, wretched, filthy, and forlorn, to enter any other place: who
could gain admission into no charity school, and who would be driven from
any church door; are invited to come in here, and find some people not
depraved, willing to teach them something, and show them some sympathy,
and stretch a hand out, which is not the iron hand of Law, for their
correction.
Before I describe a visit of my own to a Ragged School, and urge the
readers of this letter for God’s sake to visit one themselves, and think
of it (which is my main object), let me say, that I know the prisons of
London well; that I have visited the largest of them more times than I
could count; and that the children in them are enough to break the heart
and hope of any man. I have never taken a foreigner or a stranger of any
kind to one of these establishments but I have seen him so moved at sight
of the child offenders, and so affected by the contemplation of their
utter renouncement and desolation outside the prison walls, that he has
been as little able to disguise his emotion, as if some great grief had
suddenly burst upon him. Mr. Chesterton and Lieutenant Tracey (than whom
more intelligent and humane Governors of Prisons it would be hard, if not
impossible, to find) know perfectly well that these children pass and
repass through the prisons all their lives; that they are never taught;
that the first distinctions between right and wrong are, from their
cradles, perfectly confounded and perverted in their minds; that they
come of untaught parents, and will give birth to another untaught
generation; that in exact proportion to their natural abilities, is the
extent and scope of their depravity; and that there is no escape or
chance for them in any ordinary revolution of human affairs. Happily,
there are schools in these prisons now. If any readers doubt how
ignorant the children are, let them visit those schools and see them at
their tasks, and hear how much they knew when they were sent there. If
they would know the produce of this seed, let them see a class of men and
boys together, at their books (as I have seen them in the House of
Correction for this county of Middlesex), and mark how painfully the full
grown felons toil at the very shape and form of letters; their ignorance
being so confirmed and solid. The contrast of this labour in the men,
with the less blunted quickness of the boys; the latent shame and sense
of degradation struggling through their dull attempts at infant lessons;
and the universal eagerness to learn, impress me, in this passing
retrospect, more painfully than I can tell.
For the instruction, and as a first step in the reformation, of such
unhappy beings, the Ragged Schools were founded. I was first attracted
to the subject, and indeed was first made conscious of their existence,
about two years ago, or more, by seeing an advertisement in the papers
dated from West Street, Saffron Hill, stating “That a room had been
opened and supported in that wretched neighbourhood for upwards of twelve
months, where religious instruction had been imparted to the poor”, and
explaining in a few words what was meant by Ragged Schools as a generic
term, including, then, four or five similar places of instruction. I
wrote to the masters of this particular school to make some further
inquiries, and went myself soon afterwards.
It was a hot summer night; and the air of Field Lane and Saffron Hill was
not improved by such weather, nor were the people in those streets very
sober or honest company. Being unacquainted with the exact locality of
the school, I was fain to make some inquiries about it. These were very
jocosely received in general; but everybody knew where it was, and gave
the right direction to it. The prevailing idea among the loungers (the
greater part of them the very sweepings of the streets and station
houses) seemed to be, that the teachers were quixotic, and the school
upon the whole “a lark”. But there was certainly a kind of rough respect
for the intention, and (as I have said) nobody denied the school or its
whereabouts, or refused assistance in directing to it.
It consisted at that time of either two or three—I forget which—miserable
rooms, upstairs in a miserable house. In the best of these, the pupils
in the female school were being taught to read and write; and though
there were among the number, many wretched creatures steeped in
degradation to the lips, they were tolerably quiet, and listened with
apparent earnestness and patience to their instructors. The appearance
of this room was sad and melancholy, of course—how could it be
otherwise!—but, on the whole, encouraging.
The close, low chamber at the back, in which the boys were crowded, was
so foul and stifling as to be, at first, almost insupportable. But its
moral aspect was so far worse than its physical, that this was soon
forgotten. Huddled together on a bench about the room, and shown out by
some flaring candles stuck against the walls, were a crowd of boys,
varying from mere infants to young men; sellers of fruit, herbs,
lucifer-matches, flints; sleepers under the dry arches of bridges; young
thieves and beggars—with nothing natural to youth about them: with
nothing frank, ingenuous, or pleasant in their faces; low-browed,
vicious, cunning, wicked; abandoned of all help but this; speeding
downward to destruction; and UNUTTERABLY IGNORANT.
This, Reader, was one room as full as it could hold; but these were only
grains in sample of a Multitude that are perpetually sifting through
these schools; in sample of a Multitude who had within them once, and
perhaps have now, the elements of men as good as you or I, and maybe
infinitely better; in sample of a Multitude among whose doomed and sinful
ranks (oh, think of this, and think of them!) the child of any man upon
this earth, however lofty his degree, must, as by Destiny and Fate, be
found, if, at its birth, it were consigned to such an infancy and
nurture, as these fallen creatures had!
This was the Class I saw at the Ragged School. They could not be trusted
with books; they could only be instructed orally; they were difficult of
reduction to anything like attention, obedience, or decent behaviour;
their benighted ignorance in reference to the Deity, or to any social
duty (how could they guess at any social duty, being so discarded by all
social teachers but the gaoler and the hangman!) was terrible to see.
Yet, even here, and among these, something had been done already. The
Ragged School was of recent date and very poor; but he had inculcated
some association with the name of the Almighty, which was not an oath,
and had taught them to look forward in a hymn (they sang it) to another
life, which would correct the miseries and woes of this.
The new exposition I found in this Ragged School, of the frightful
neglect by the State of those whom it punishes so constantly, and whom it
might, as easily and less expensively, instruct and save; together with
the sight I had seen there, in the heart of London; haunted me, and
finally impelled me to an endeavour to bring these Institutions under the
notice of the Government; with some faint hope that the vastness of the
question would supersede the Theology of the schools, and that the Bench
of Bishops might adjust the latter question, after some small grant had
been conceded. I made the attempt; and have heard no more of the subject
from that hour.
The perusal of an advertisement in yesterday’s paper, announcing a
lecture on the Ragged Schools last night, has led me into these remarks.
I might easily have given them another form; but I address this letter to
you, in the hope that some few readers in whom I have awakened an
interest, as a writer of fiction, may be, by that means, attracted to the
subject, who might otherwise, unintentionally, pass it over.
I have no desire to praise the system pursued in the Ragged Schools;
which is necessarily very imperfect, if indeed there be one. So far as I
have any means of judging of what is taught there, I should individually
object to it, as not being sufficiently secular, and as presenting too
many religious mysteries and difficulties, to minds not sufficiently
prepared for their reception. But I should very imperfectly discharge in
myself the duty I wish to urge and impress on others, if I allowed any
such doubt of mine to interfere with my appreciation of the efforts of
these teachers, or my true wish to promote them by any slight means in my
power. Irritating topics, of all kinds, are equally far removed from my
purpose and intention. But, I adjure those excellent persons who aid,
munificently, in the building of New Churches, to think of these Ragged
Schools; to reflect whether some portion of their rich endowments might
not be spared for such a purpose; to contemplate, calmly, the necessity
of beginning at the beginning; to consider for themselves where the
Christian Religion most needs and most suggests immediate help and
illustration; and not to decide on any theory or hearsay, but to go
themselves into the Prisons and the Ragged Schools, and form their own
conclusions. They will be shocked, pained, and repelled, by much that
they learn there; but nothing they can learn will be one-thousandth part
so shocking, painful, and repulsive, as the continuance for one year more
of these things as they have been for too many years already.
Anticipating that some of the more prominent facts connected with the
history of the Ragged Schools, may become known to the readers of _The
Daily News_ through your account of the lecture in question, I abstain
(though in possession of some such information) from pursuing the
question further, at this time. But if I should see occasion, I will
take leave to return to it.