The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1871-04-14

supply an immeasurable need, that it strikes
us as almost ludicrous. Look for a moment
at the tableau of crime in this country. With
the formation of each State comes the estab-
lishment of gigantic penitentiary y-massive
structures of stones, or in some cases of
marble, upon whose construction as
much cost is expended as on
some of the royal palaces of Europe
an outlay, by the way, which, while it
conduces to the vanity of the State, adds
not one whit TO the comfort of the inmates
The outer wall alone of the prison applying
for this bill cost over half q million of dol
lars. The average primary cost of accemmo-
dation for each inmate of the State prisons
is over $1,000, which does not include their
after maintenance. Beside these vast CEN
tral organizations there are the ails in each
county of each State, where hundreds of nen
and women are withdrawn from society, kept
in idleness, and maintained at the expense of
the State, on account of real or alleged
crime. Now, what is the object of this per-
petual subtraction of great fraction of the
population from the rest, by which they are
kept in an abnormal position at the cost of
an enormous outlay to innocent peo-
pie The answer of course is,
Their reform, and the purifying of
society" Punishment, or the fear of it,
never made bad man better one; hence, in
most of the State prisons a nominal effort is
made by religious instruction, or the teaching
of trades, to fit the poor wretch whom heredi-
tary poverty, or viciousness, or some mis-
chance in life, has made felon, to stand up
right again on his release, an honest man
among his fellows. We say nominal effort,
because in too many cases the necessity of
making the prisons self-supportiDg converts
the convicts into draught horses, out of
whom a certain amount of work is forced,
while the question of their reformation is left
altogether in the lurch. Especially is this
the case where, as in Illinois and Kentucky,
the prisoner his food, clothing, and the pro-
duct of his labor are handed over by the
State for bonus to lessee, who proceeds to
grind the convict's bones to make his own
bread, and ordinarily grinds them to some
purpose.
In the best-managed penitentiaries known,
where the convict, during his detention, is
furnished with trade, religious instruction,
healthful and improving reading, what is
done on his release to find him work and a
place again in society? Absolutely nothing.
Incredible as it may seem, Massachusetts, is
the only State which has established an
agency for taking charge of discharged con-
victs. In only three other States-Pennsyl-
vania, New York, and California-is such aid
Systematically given by any oNtside body. The
PritOn Association-one of the noblest aids
10 WHICH ever inspired
takes charge in these States of the pri-
soner before his release, ascertains his neces-
stiles, the state of his clothing, his capa-
bilities, ETC., finds him work, or sends him
home to his friends. In this State the asso-
citation has provided permanent places for
3677 liberated prisoners, and has kept help
full, watchful eye over their future career;
only three per cent. of this number are re-
ported as having relapsed into crime 'Many
have risen to high places as merchants and
manufacturers, while the mass, with fami-
lies about them, have been and are earning
an honest livelihood in the humber walks
of life" In Massachusetts the report is
equally hopeful. The convicts, when dis
charged, are offered immediate employment,
and thus saved from temptation, and idle
ness, and crime A cabinet-maker in Bos-
ton, employing f12m forty to fifty dis
charged prisoners, declares that he had never
found it necessary to dismiss one for bad
conduct. But with this meagre record the
chance of help to the convict ceases. The
man, whether q confirmed criminal, or one
who has yielded to the swift, fierce tempta-
tion of moment, or innocent (for juries are
not infallible), is snatched away from his
home, his family is left helpless, all the old
associations of his life are snapped in an
! hour, and he goes down into living grave
for years-half lifetime it may be. Some
softeniDg thoughts must come to him, buried
from the busy world in solitude and silence;
some honest, clear-sighted looking in on
! himself-the strength and weaknesses within
him; on the God above him and his fellows
the reasons why they won the race while
he miserably failed When he comes out he
fancies he will begin the world afresh. Give
him an inch of standing-room, and he
will work his way with clean hands
! There is no knowing the height he
may not reach What comes of his plans
Christian society having wrecked the man
former life-having kept him apart for years
for the nominal purpose of his reformation
throws him back suddenly into the highway
as one would throw withered weed. He is
without work, without money; the damnine
stigma of the prison forever upon him; the
friends of his better days disown him; hi
very children, it may be, have grown out oi
remembrance of him. Who is willing to EN-
ploy convict? His only chance is a return
to vice; the only friendly hands stretched ou
to him are those that drag him down.
''The petitioners put this matter on an eco
nomical basis" What is the result? Tn
community is put to the expense of anothe
trial and another long imprisonment. Woult
not the relief plan be the most frugal? Th
subject has another aspect, which we com
mend to the pulpit and the press, that in
Christian country tens of thousands of mel
and women ask for the chance to lead
better life, and the response is almost ute
/ silanca