themselves, the fighting English demigods! So, should it be the hap of our nation to find itself ere long in the probation of some such enterprise of all its strength, some such contest of life and death, as many foresee for it, little doubt that then, in the general shaking which shall ensue, fallacies shall fall from it like withered leaves, and meaner habits with them, and that then many a mind to which at present the sole competent use of pen or of voice seems to be in a splenetic service of small

sarcasm, shall receive a noble rouse for the service of the collective need. Meanwhile, in these yet clear heavens, and ere the hurricane comes that shall huddle us together, it is for any one here and there that, having escaped the general taint of cynicism, has dared to propose to himself some positive intellectual labour of the old enthusiastic sort, to secure the necessary equanimity by pre-arranged and persevering solitude.

THIS is the age of Reformatories. Judges have declared against the cruelty of awarding punishment, pure and simple, to those whose chief fault is utter neglect on the part of parents to teach them what is right, or diligence in teaching them what is wrong; clergymen have preached about it; Parliaments have voted upon it; public meetings have. declared against it; and, what is still better, Mettray, Redhill, and hundreds of other similar asylums for young offenders have been established, and have proved the possibility, and therefore the duty, of reforming wicked boys, instead of severely whipping them, or confining them, or hanging them. So undeniable has the reformatory success been, that we have almost ceased to hear the plausible argument that bad boys are taken care of, and honest boys left to shift for themselves. The Christian instinct of warm-hearted people long ago burst through the bonds which this argument would lay upon them, and we now see clearly enough that the argument was only a sophism, and that the real answer to it is this, that wickedness is like a loathsome infectious disease, and that to remove a bad case to a hospital is not more a kindness to the patient than an act of mercy to the

neighbourhood. In fact, the reformatory work done by the removal of a clever ringleader in wickedness is by no means to be measured by the benefit conferred upon the individual, or even by the advantage to society of having one knave transformed into an honest member; the reformation of your one knave probably breaks up a gang, and leaves many lads, who would soon have joined the same, to the more wholesome influence of their pastors and masters. Within my own knowledge, the establishment of a reformatory for a small number of boys, in the neighbourhood of a large city, almost immediately produced a marked effect upon the number of juvenile offenders brought before the magistrates.

Nevertheless, every one feels that a poor lad who has never been committed for stealing, but who is quite willing to steal if occasion offer, a young thief in posse, if not in esse, can make out something of a case against reformatories, if they shut their doors upon him as not being one of the brotherhood. Have you ever been in gaol? No. Are you a thief? Not by profession; and my doings in that way have been so small, that I scarcely deserve the name. I am afraid, my boy, you will not do for us.

But I have no objection to steal, says the boy; only try me, and you shall see that there is no bar to my becoming a thief to-morrow. Well, then, become a thief, and, when you are one, we will take you in hand and reform you.

There is enough of truth in this caricature to make us glad that there are such things as Industrial Schools and Boys' Homes, to which the passport is not juvenile crime, but rather juvenile misery and misfortune. In every large town there are many boys, (and girls too, but I am just now speaking of boys only,) who are not actually criminal, but who are very likely to become so in times of idleness, and under the influence of temptation; boys of careless parents, or bad parents; neglected orphans; boys brought up to no trade; boys who have never been educated, and who have forgotten even the smattering of knowledge they picked up at the National School; boys who play at pitch-farthing at street-corners, or hang about railway stations, or sweep crossings, or beg for coppers, or do anything else but work for an honest livelihood and prepare themselves to become honest men and good citizens. What is to be done for these boys? The true philosophy of healing involves a careful diagnosis of the disease. In this case the disease is, fundamentally, idleness; the cure is industry. The idleness is in a certain sense artificial; the industry must be artificial too.

It was with such views as these that, some years ago, a school was established in Cambridge under the name of the Cambridge Industrial School.

The

school is still flourishing, and virtually doing a great deal of reformatory work. Many boys who have been in the school are now well-conducted, useful men; not a few owe to the training which they received in it all that they are, and all that they hope to be; and some of the cases are so striking, that I think many of the readers of this magazine will thank me for putting before them the simple annals of several poor lads, which they will find a little further on. First, however, let me say a few words

concerning the organization and principles of the school in question. I will speak of it with as much fairness as it is possible to speak of a child which you have nursed from the cradle, and watched through its teething and other infantine infirmities; and I would say, once for all, that whatever good may have come from the school, is due (under God) not so much to its organization as to the superlative qualifications for the work possessed by the master whom the managers were fortunate enough to engage. I can easily conceive that an Industrial School might be established, apparently upon the same principles as that at Cambridge, and might fail; I have no doubt there are fit men to be had; only it must be remembered that the qualifications are such as can hardly be gained by training. With regard to some of them, at least, the Industrial Master nascitur, non fit.

The Cambridge Industrial School was intended for about fifty boys; and sometimes there have been more than that number in attendance-generally less. The boys may or may not be criminal; inquiry is of course made as to their history, but no objection is made on the score of not possessing a certificate of roguery. The school has about six or seven acres of land in spade cultivation, and the working of this land is the staple occupation of the boys. The land is a cold, heavy clay, and was terrible work for the boys at first, but it has given way to the general reformatory influences of the place, and is now very manageable and docile. Besides the field or garden work, there is a workshop, in which the boys pursue the useful occupations of tailoring and shoemaking, becoming snips or snobs according to fancy-only with this reservation, that a boy who has once declared for breeches must not go to boots, nor vice versa. Further industrial employment is afforded by a greenhouse; and there is a tolerably extensive piggery, the inmates of which may indeed be regarded as liberal subscribers to the institution, and amongst its most energetic supporters.

In addition to the workshop there are two rooms, one for the feeding of the mind, the other for that of the body. A certain portion of each day is passed in the former occupation, under the direction of the head master, who also superintends the outdoor exercises: this is an essential part of the plan-the field and the school act and react upon each other: the former is the place for exercising the virtues instilled in the latter, and any faults which appear in the field can be discussed and corrected afterwards in school. The feeding is confined to one meal a day. I do not mean that the boys eat no more; but only one meal is provided by the school funds; whatever else is necessary to support life the boys are obliged to find for themselves. Hence there is small temptation to enter the school on false pretences; the maxim of little to eat and plenty to do, serves to keep away all those who are not proper subjects for the school's reformatory operations.

The admission is entirely free. In the first instance a small payment was demanded, twopence per week; and I remember the case of a sturdy boy who used to work hard at the school all day, and then go round with a basket calling "Trotters!" through the streets of Cambridge all the evening in order to pay his school fee and find himself breakfast. But it was found, after some experience, that the payment of twopence per week excluded many whom it was desirable, above all others, to take in, and the rule was consequently abrogated.

The school has been open for exactly ten years. During this period nearly 400 boys have passed through it. These have remained for longer or shorter times, as the case might be some attending regularly for several years; others coming for a time, then getting work, then returning when work is not. to be had-a practice encouraged by the managers, and which has kept many a poor lad out of mischief; others again coming for a short time, and then, on finding steady work and cleanliness too much for them, returning to idleness and dirt. Thirty-four are serving her

Majesty in the army, fourteen in the navy, and for about fifty of the number good situations have been obtained through the agency of the school. I cannot pretend to weigh exactly the successes against the failures. I know that there have been some of the latter; I am equally sure that there have been many of the former; and even in cases which have seemed to the Committee and the master of the school quite hopeless, a seed may have been sown which should spring up afterwards. This was, in fact, demonstrated to be possible in a recent case. A boy, regarded as nearly the worst whom the school ever received, and who left the school without giving the master a ray of hope, has lately written a letter from India, in a new strain, announcing that he is acting as Scripture Reader in the regiment to which he belongs.

I ought to add that, during the ten years of the school's existence, the head master has been the same, the shoemaking-master the same, and the tailoring-master was the same till about two years ago, when he obtained preferment in one of the Colleges.

So much for the machinery of the school, which I have compressed into as short a space as possible, for fear of wearying my readers, and in order that I may carry them forward as quickly as possible to that part of my paper upon which I chiefly depend for any interest which may attach to it. Indeed I should hardly have ventured to draw the still life picture of the school, if I had not been able to add some sketches of the inmates, which can hardly fail to be deemed striking: some portions of the sketches will have the additional interest of being drawn by the industrial boys themselves.

I proceed, then, to give an account of some of the boys, and extracts from letters received from them: there are obvious reasons why, in some cases, the names ought not to be given, and, as they cannot be given in some, I shall withhold them in all, designating the boys by their numbers on the school register. No. 1 was the first boy admitted

into the school. He was an intelligent lad, and as such had been employed as a monitor and assistant in a national school; he was tempted by his love of books to steal a considerable number belonging to the school library, and was ejected in consequence. Having thus lost his character, he was picked up by the Industrial School, where he remained for about two years, when he was recommended, in consequence of his good conduct, to a tradesman in Cambridge. He remained in his place for some time, but told his master from the first that he longed to be a soldier, and intended to enlist when a favourable opportunity offered. At length the opportunity came; he enlisted into a cavalry regiment, and served in the Crimea. From the Crimea he wrote the most affectionate letters to the school, with many inquiries about his former companions. At the close of the war he was selected as the bestbehaved private of his regiment, and sent by Government for two years' training at Maidstone. He went out to India, after training, as corporal, and last Christmas was promoted to be a sergeant. I have several letters from him before me; in the last, dated Bangalore, he says, "I suppose the "school has a very smart appearance

by this time; and I do hope I shall "not be very long before I am able to give you a call." In the midst of the terrible Crimean winter campaign, he found time to use his pencil, with which he was very clever, in drawing a picture of himself in his sentry-box, which he sent to the school with many inquiries concerning his old companions.

No. 16 is a very remarkable case. My first acquaintance with this boy was made, after evening service, in a church in which I had been officiating. He was brought before me as a culprit who had been disturbing the congregation, and was admonished and discharged. He was then quite a small boy. Growing in time to be a big one, he became a very rough and turbulent fellow; was known as the bully of the parish, and was the terror of all quiet

and orderly folks. A country girl, who lived as servant with the master, threatened to give notice if No. 16 continued in the school; she said he was "such a terrible swearer, she could not bear it." This was when he first came to the school. After being in the school some months, he and another boy (now a well-conducted married man) had a pitched battle. The master threatened expulsion, and they both begged pardon, and promised to do so no more. Better days now dawned; No. 16 improved rapidly; in less than two years from his admission he was made assistant to the master, and proved most valuable. His great strength and determined character were now turned to good account; the roughest boys found their master; and when they told him that they could not leave off this or that bad habit, he was able to tell them, from his own experience, that he knew it could be done. He now became a Sunday-school teacher. This was too much for his old companions; they ridiculed him in the streets and pelted him. He told the master in distress, that he must turn upon them some day and give them a thrashing or get one himself. The master told him all his work would be undone if he did so, and No. 16 restrained himself. Any one who knew the fire of his eye and the strength of his arms would understand how much this forbearance cost him. One day a Colonial Bishop saw him superintend a large gang of boys at field-work, was struck by his skill and power of managing his gang, and carried him off as a catechist to his distant diocese, where he is doing honour to his Christian profession, and justifying the Bishop's choice. I have abundance of this young man's letters before me as I write. They are in every way well written; they are full of affection to his old master; they breathe a genuine missionary spirit; and, as I read them, I say to myself, Is it possible that the writer can be that wild, fierce lad, whom I remember ten years ago in the Industrial School?

No. 24, a fatherless lad, came to the

school a cripple, with crutch and stick. He was set upon his legs by the management of a medical gentleman, who chanced to call at the school and perceived his crippled condition; and the same operation was performed for him. morally by the school: for, having earned a good character, he was apprenticed to a shoemaker, by help of friends whom he had gained while at school, and on easy terms in consequence of the knowledge of the trade which he had already acquired. He is now a good workman, subscribes annually to the funds of the Industrial School, and helps to support a widowed mother.

No. 57 was a boy the complete treatment of whose case was beyond the appliances of the school. He had a bad father and an infamous stepmother, who taught him to steal. He came to the

school as young as he could be according to the rules, but had already been in prison several times, and was in prison several times afterwards. Altogether, the magistrates had him before them fifteen times! Notwithstanding this tendency to steal, the master of the school spoke well of him, and, indeed, said that anything might be done with him, if he had only a fair chance; and when I went to see him in gaol, the governor gave the same account of him. The Industrial School had not the means of taking him entirely away from temptation for a time, and the good resolutions of the day were destroyed by the bad home influences of evening. After he had been liberated from gaol for the last time, a lady who supports a private reformatory, and whose name may be guessed by those versed in reformatory matters, but shall not be revealed by me, offered, in the kindest manner possible, to receive a boy from the school if there chanced to be one to whom an absolute removal to a reformatory would be beneficial. No. 57 was precisely the case and accordingly No. 57 was sent to the reformatory, in which he realized the best hopes that had been formed of him, and was eventually sent to America by his kind patroness, where he is No. 7.-VOL. II.

flourishing as assistant in a large store, and seems likely to become a substantial Yankee. This boy frequently writes to the schoolmaster in the most affectionate terms.

I give one extract. Referring to a domestic affliction in the master's family, he writes :-" Gladly would I, if I was near you, do all I could for you; for I feel as if I could not do enough to pay for the kindness you always showed towards me but I hope that I shall have the privilege, some time, to do you a kindness in some way or other. I was very glad indeed to hear such an account of I know it must cheer your heart to hear such accounts of the boys that have been with you, and that you can see that your labour was not in vain. I know that, had you cast me off, I should have been a ruined man."

No. 60 is the son of a shoemaker in Cambridge, a first-rate workman, who had an unfortunate dislike to maintain his wife and family, and positively went to prison, and afterwards to the Union workhouse, rather than support them. The boy was very ill-behaved at times, intensely fond of smoking, and much addicted to bad language. However, he improved very considerably; and at length, through the efforts of the Committee, was apprenticed in Her Majesty's navy. He writes to the master with the same warm affection that characterises other letters of which I have spoken; and in one of his letters, from Plymouth, he says, "I should very much like to come to Cambridge for two days, but I shall not have money enough, as I am very happy to tell you that I have done what I know I am right to do; that is, to assist my mother, which I have felt a great deal since I have been at sea; and I feel just as well as if I had the money myself, for I should only spend it in waste, and be no better for it. I have left £1 every month for this last twelvemonth, and that is ever since I have been able to do so."

No. 68 was a very bad boy before coming to the school. The master frequently received petitions that he would punish him for misdemeanours in the