It is obvious that under such conditions healthycolonisation is about as impossible as healthy physical being in a colony of lepers. Free emigrants may declare it their intention, but they will not persevere in the attempt to build up new homes under such false conditions; they will not leave the mother country, or if they do, will take the earliest opportunity to return to the hard, clean, industrious life of agricultural France. We have seen that, with the larger influx of the vigorous Anglo-Saxon, the same difficulties were faced and overcome; but at what risks, what degradation and how great a waste of men and means!
New Caledonia is nevertheless an interesting study, and its present condition an object lesson in penal legislation. It is a prison planted in the tropics, to a large extent worked and governed on the same lines as the prisons in the heart of a mother country. Wrong-doers are transported to the other end of the globe to endure a penalty that might be better inflicted, more cheaply and under better supervision and control, by the strong arm of an omnipresent public opinion at home. Some remote advantages are no doubt obtained in the later stages of the terms of imprisonment, and at least society is rinsed effectively of its lees and leavings.
The principal home for theforçatsin the penal stage of exile is still on the island of Nou, already mentioned and immediately opposite Noumea, the capital of the colony, which is now, after fifty years of life, a pretty white town of villas and squares,and streets of shops brightened by a luxuriant tropical vegetation. On the island of Nou a pleasant looking settlement of white houses and shady streets has been formed at the foot of a hill crowned with the imposing and extensive prison buildings. On this commanding site and at this remote point, so-called penitentiary science has planted the same sort of machine for the coercion of erring humanity as may be seen nearly everywhere else on the civilised globe. The latest experiment is being made with the oldest methods. Here are separate cells, dark cells and condemned cells, bolts and bars, iron doors and loaded revolvers. France desires to emancipate her criminals and set them on the high road to regenerated life, but they must tread the old thorny paths and suffer the same trials by the way as their predecessors elsewhere. Discipline must be maintained, and it is enforced at times by terrible means. The lash and the "cat-o'-nine-tails" are not permitted, but a most ingenious deceptive method of torture has been invented, mild enough at first sight, yet more cruel than the rack, thumb-saw or boot.
Mr. George Griffith's description of the punishment as it existed when he saw it—happily much modified soon afterward—is horrifying in the extreme. The "black cell" was absolutely isolated. Not a sound reached it, not a ray of light penetrated it, and in his day the doors were only opened once in thirty days, when the hapless inmate wasextracted for an hour's exercise and the doctor's inspection. The effect of this treatment may be best realised by Mr. Griffith's own words when he was permitted to extend relief to one of the inmates.
"Out of the corner (of the cell) came something in human shape, crouching forward, rubbing its eyes and blinking at the unaccustomed light. It had been three years and a half in that horrible hole about three yards long and half as wide. I gave him a feast of sunshine and outer air by taking his place for a few minutes. After the first two or three, the minutes lengthened into hours. I had absolutely no sense of light. I was as blind as though I had been born without eyes. The blackness seemed to come down on me like some solid thing and drive my straining eyes back into my head. It was darkness that could be felt, for I felt it, and the silence was like the silence of upper space. When the double doors opened again, the rays of light seemed to strike my eyes like daggers. The criminal whose place I had taken had a record of infamy which no printable words could express, and yet I confess I pitied him as he went back into that living death of darkness and silence."
The extreme penalty of death is by no means rare in New Caledonia, and the condemned cells in the prison of the island of Nou, six in number, are sometimes simultaneously full. An execution in that far-off place of penitence reproduces the scenein Paris; the preliminaries are the same and the ceremony is identical. The same cruel uncertainty hangs over the fate of the condemned, who hears his doom only an hour or two before he is guillotined. The commandant of the island, the chaplain and the chief warden, visit him at three o'clock in the morning and convey the dread summons,c'est pour aujourdhui, the final, fatal decision he has been awaiting day after day for weeks. Then followsla toilette de la mort, the dressing for death, when the headsman "Monsieur de l'Ile Nou," pinions him and cuts away the collar of his shirt lest it should break the fall of the swiftly descending knife.
The actual performance takes place in the great courtyard, where the scaffold has been erected and the audience is ready. All the great officials of the colony are there, and a sufficient number of troops to overawe the body of convicts arranged row behind row within full view of the stage to which the principal performer ascends. He is allowed to make a short address to his comrades, kneeling and bareheaded before him. Then he is put into position upon a sloping plank, which slides into place so that his neck is pushed out through an opening and is ready for the swift-falling blade.
Theforçatsare distributed all over the colony where there is work in progress, on farms and agricultural stations, clearing forest primeval and in mining operations of a very arduous character.The idle and ill-conducted, the incorrigible who will not labour and are in a chronic state of insubordination, are committed to disciplinary camps partly for punishment, partly for seclusion. Nowhere is the régime more severe, the daily rations less, the daily task harder. There are none of the small luxuries of wine and tobacco, and they sleep on guard beds with a leg in iron chained to a bar at the end. The penalty of solitary confinement on bread and water is promptly inflicted for any breach of discipline, and those who prove perfectly intractable are sent as hopeless to the cells of the central prison at the island of Nou. Henceforth there is no further change—they are deemed hopeless and incurable.
One form of punishment is peculiar to these camps. It might be called perpetual motion. A number of convicts, twenty or thirty, are ranged in single rank in a large shed, some sixty feet in length and forty in breadth, and set to march round and round incessantly, pausing only for a couple of minutes every half hour. Stone seats, each a kind of flat topped pyramid, are fixed at intervals around the shed and afford a brief rest from time to time, but the march is speedily resumed and continues from dawn to sunset of the nearly interminable day.
The tardy development of the colony has been shown as it was at an earlier date. Twenty years more and it still lags behind. After forty years ofoccupation, with an average total of from eight to ten thousand able-bodied criminals available, but little progress has been made. The colony is still but sparsely provided with roads. The internal communications are barely fifty miles in length; one road, fit only for two-wheeled traffic and thirty miles in length, connects Noumea with Bailoupari, and there are some short roads in the agricultural settlement of Bourail. There are as yet no railways and no network of telegraphic wires. All of the transit from point to point is performed by small coastwise steamers.
Bourail is the show place where theforçatsblossom into the emancipists, and where penal labour is replaced by individual effort of the state-aided freedmen, the criminal who has expiated his offence and is now to make himself a new life. Liberal assistance is given to those who intend to do well. After fair assurance of amendment, the forger or assassin, the unfortunate felon who got into the clutches of the law, gets a new start, a concession of land with capital advanced to stock it, materials to build his home, tools and agricultural implements, six months' food, and seed to sow the first harvest. Some of them thrive and prosper exceedingly; it is much the same as in early Australian days, but no doubt to a lesser degree, for not a few fail and must return to servitude with more successful comrades or free settlers. There are those who champion the system as the best solutionof the disposal of the worst offenders who cannot be rehabilitated under the conditions existing in a country long settled. The logic is a little weak perhaps, and it is difficult to concede that crime should be the official avenue to state assistance.
A good story is told of one reformed criminal who prospered exceedingly and was congratulated by the governor of the colony when he came up to receive the prize awarded for raising first-class stock. He was reminded how by the fostering care of a paternal government he had been transformed from the degradedforçatinto an honest owner of property. The ex-convict was moved to tears, but his emotion was caused by his regretting the time he had lost before he came to benefit by the change. "Had I had any idea of the good fortune awaiting me," he whined, "I would have arrived here ten years sooner." In other words, he would have qualified ten years earlier by committing the deed which resulted in his transportation—cutting his wife's throat.
The boons extended to the reformed one are not limited to a life of ease and comfort in the colony. Rehabilitation may be earned, and with it permission to return to the mother country with the restoration of civil rights. Several have sold their farms and effects to the colony, and have gone home to France asrentiers. Their reappearance hardly tends to emphasise the deterrent effect of penal exile.
That the conditions in New Caledonia were until within the last few years in many respects more encouraging, and that the labour of the colonists was increasingly productive, may be gathered from the following extract from the LondonTimesin 1890:
"The governor states that agriculture, which has hitherto been of only secondary importance, seems to be entering upon a period of rapid development under the influence of the fresh means of action afforded it by the immigration from the New Hebrides, and New Caledonia will produce this year 400 tons of coffee, while it is expected that in four years' time the production will exceed 1,000 tons. The cultivation of the sugar cane and of wheat is also making good progress.... The governor reports that what New Caledonia is most deficient in is labour, but he adds that the work done by the convicts, and especially at the Thio penitentiary, is much more satisfactory than that of the convicts in Guiana, while the men who have served their time and who choose can always find employment at wages from 4s.to 5s.a day, and at piece work they in many cases earn 10s.a day."
Some ten years later reports continued to be favourable as to the prosperity of New Caledonia. According to the governor, the population was steadily increasing and the demand for the minerals mined on the island was so great that it could not be satisfied. In 1903, however, theTimespublished a news item stating that "emigration from France has practically ceased and numbers of colonists have left," the cause of the exodus being the high taxation and great cost of living. In the same year, the agent-general for South Australia wrote to the French government pointing out how anxious Australia was to see the use of New Caledonia as a penal settlement abandoned, and a date fixed after which prisoners should not be sent to the Pacific.
No common system—Each state takes care of prisoners in its own way—Prisons under the control of the general government—Lack of system not altogether without advantage—The "Pennsylvania System"versusthe "Auburn System"—Other prisons—Convictversusfree labour—Prison newspapers—The Elmira Reformatory—Similar experiments in other states—Obstacles to prison improvement—Institutions for juvenile offenders—Children's courts—Advantages and disadvantages of juvenile institutions—Interesting experiments.
No common system—Each state takes care of prisoners in its own way—Prisons under the control of the general government—Lack of system not altogether without advantage—The "Pennsylvania System"versusthe "Auburn System"—Other prisons—Convictversusfree labour—Prison newspapers—The Elmira Reformatory—Similar experiments in other states—Obstacles to prison improvement—Institutions for juvenile offenders—Children's courts—Advantages and disadvantages of juvenile institutions—Interesting experiments.
There is no prison system common to the whole United States. Each of the forty-six states and the territories as well deals with its prisoners in its own way. The United States has two great prisons, one at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and the other at Atlanta, Georgia, besides a small one in the state of Washington, in which some of the offenders against the general government are confined, but the greater number of Federal prisoners are confined in state prisons by special arrangement with the state authorities. The general government, however, prescribes rules and regulations for the treatment of Federal prisoners, but has no authority whateverover the state prisoners confined, perhaps, in the same building.
Naturally conditions vary in different states and often in different prisons in the same state. Few states have a Department of Correction, and usually each prison is in the charge of a separate board, appointed either by the governor or the state legislature. The county jails in which short term prisoners or offenders awaiting trial are confined are almost invariably under the management of the local authorities and the condition of many is deplorable. Some state prisons are models in construction, sanitation, and government, and challenge comparison with the best in Europe. Others are poorly constructed, overcrowded, badly kept and worse governed. Conditions depend entirely upon the state of the public conscience and the sense of responsibility prevailing in the jurisdiction. Manifestly it is difficult to make general statements of American policy in penology.
Yet this very diversity has its advantages. While because of the lack of a uniform system, the prisons in some states are worse than they would be under general laws, still the various states are constantly experimenting. A new idea in prison construction, or a new method of government, will be tried in some state, by an officer who has been able to convince his board of governors of its practicability. A general board or commissioner would be less likely to interfere with the existing order.This very fact of independent jurisdictions is responsible for much of the American progress exhibited particularly in reformatory institutions.
A rough classification as to methods shows four different systems of dealing with felons. These are first, the cellular or separate; second, the congregate; third, the reformatory; fourth, the convict lease system. In addition there is a multitude of institutions organised to deal with the youthful offender, variously known as juvenile asylums, protectories, training schools, etc. Among them all there is much variation.
The only prison of the cellular type now existing in the United States is the Eastern Penitentiary of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia which was opened in 1829, though Walnut Street jail had in 1790 cells designed for solitary confinement. This prison is built in the form of a star with galleries radiating from a central hall. Most of the galleries are only one story, though a few are two. The architecture was probably borrowed from the prison of Ghent designed by Vilian, and begun in 1771.
Each prisoner is assigned to a large cell averaging in size perhaps sixteen by eight feet and twelve to fifteen feet in height. A yard about the same size open to the sky adjoins the cell and prisoners are allowed to take exercise for a specified time daily. Each cell contains the necessary furniture for a bedroom, including an electric light, a water tap and sanitary conveniences.
In theory the prisoner is confined in this cell without intercourse with any other prisoners, from his entrance until the sentence has expired. He sees and speaks only with prison officers or instructors, including the chaplain. He lives, works, eats, and sleeps in his cell. No machinery or at least none that can not be introduced into the cells is allowed in the prison. The prisoners make shoes, clothes, shirts, cigars, stockings, etc. A specified amount is expected from each prisoner and any greater production is credited to him. One half of the surplus goes to the county from which he was sentenced, and the other half may be spent for tobacco or other permitted luxuries, or may be sent to his family.
The results, according to Michael J. Cassidy, warden for many years, are exceedingly satisfactory. The first offenders are not corrupted by older prisoners and there is almost no question of discipline. There are few punishments. If a prisoner is not dressed when his breakfast is brought he may lose his meal, or if the utensils presented to be filled are not clean, the officer may in his discretion refuse to place the food in them. In rare cases the prisoner is deprived of work which has been found to be the most serious punishment of all. There are no dark cells, and corporal punishment is not employed.
Mr. Cassidy emphatically denies that the system causes insanity or that serious physical injury follows, and on the other hand declares that the reformatory results obtained are greater than in otherprisons. About seventy-five per cent. of the first offenders do not appear again and four per cent. of the habitual criminals reform. The results in his judgment justify the greater cost of the system compared with the Auburn or congregate system of which more will be said.
Though the idea put into execution at Philadelphia was not new the prison has been often visited and the "Pennsylvania system" as it is called, (though the Western Penitentiary at Allegheny is organised on the congregate system) has been widely copied, chiefly in Europe. In the United States it has been tried and abandoned in New Jersey, Rhode Island, Virginia, Maryland, and to a limited extent in New York, partly on account of the expense and partly because of doubts as to its humanity. On the other hand the system was adopted in Belgium in 1838, in Sweden in 1840, in Denmark in 1846, and to a limited extent by other countries. Pentonville in England is modelled after this prison, as are also Mountjoy in Dublin, and the Antrim jail in Belfast in Ireland.
The great majority of the prisons of the United States are organised according to the "Auburn" or congregate system. Here the prisoners are confined in separate cells at night, but work during the day in large workshops, supposedly in silence. The New York state prison at Auburn was organised in 1816. For a considerable time it was under the charge of Elam Lynds, formerly a captain in the army, and astrict disciplinarian. He was able to preserve almost absolute silence in the workshops, using corporal punishment if necessary. His success while preserving at the same time the general good will of his charges is another striking illustration of the fact that a good man can make any system work.
Though the system was not original with Auburn, the plan of organisation has passed into prison history by that name, and violent controversies have raged between the partisans of the opposing ideas. To it has been added since the organisation, the system of classification of prisoners, of good conduct marks, and of shortening sentences by good behaviour, which is in force in many states. In some states the indeterminate sentence which first was applied only in the reformatories has been extended to certain classes of offenders confined in state prisons.
The general regulations applying to the prisons in New York state, including Auburn, Sing Sing, at Ossining, Clinton, etc., are practically the same. The prisoner is assigned on entering to certain work depending upon his physique, intelligence and previous training. The efficient prison book-keeper at Sing Sing a few years ago was a convict, and the chief clerk for the superintendent of industries was also a convict.
The regulations provide for lights in the cells until ten o'clock, and for the use of the prison library. A letter may be written once a month andall proper letters received at the prison will be delivered after examination. The prisoner may also receive a visit of a half hour's duration in presence of a keeper once in two months and at the same intervals a box of proper eatables may be received from friends, or purchased from private funds. For breach of the prison regulations, a prisoner may lose a part of the time which would otherwise be gained by good behaviour, and may lose his privilege of receiving visitors. Serious infractions are punished by confinement in a dark cell, and in spite of the regulations, by physical punishment in many cases.
Formerly the labour of the convicts was contracted to outside parties at a fixed price for each individual. While the contractors were not supposed to inflict punishment, by bribing prison officials the reluctant were forced to do the amount of work required. Undoubtedly there were grave abuses. Some convicts were worked beyond their strength to satisfy the greed of the contractor. During this period there was a stone shed, a foundry, a hat shop, a file shop and a laundry, all of which paid good profits to the contractors, and from a financial standpoint were advantageous to the state.
The prejudice against this form of convict labour was sufficient in 1887 to cause the passage of a law absolutely forbidding contract labour. At the same time an appropriation was made to purchase theplants then existing and continue them on the state account. The results were not satisfactory, especially as another law later required all goods manufactured to be stamped "prison made." The labour unions continued to object to the competition of convicts with free labour and by a constitutional amendment adopted in 1896, it was finally forbidden. For a time the prisoners were idle, but shortly they were ordered to manufacture so far as possible goods required by other public institutions, and these institutions on the other hand were ordered to submit all lists of supplies desired to the prisons, in order that they might have the opportunity of furnishing them.
Since that time, the prisoners have been partially employed in manufacturing stone, knit goods, clothing, furniture, window sash, shoes, etc., but the demand is not sufficient to require full work, and the system is wasteful and uneconomic. The management is not stimulated to do its best and little or no attempt is made to keep the men from loafing. The system furnishes sufficient physical exercise but no training in systematic work which will be of value when the prisoner is released.
At Sing Sing prison the prisoners publish a paper, theStar of Hopewritten and printed entirely by themselves, and a few other prisons also issue papers. The founder of the paper has since his release published an interesting book giving his experiences and his views upon matters of prisondiscipline and government.[2]Speaking of the contributors to the paper he says: "Nor was the literary tone of the paper at all despicable. It would have been quite possible to make it more elaborate and dignified, for there was no end of talent available, but the aim held in view was to make it representative.... Poetry was the favourite medium employed by the contributors, and I suppose theStar of Hopeprinted and still prints more and worse verse than any other publication in the world."
The question of prison labour has been a serious one in many states. All agree that the convict must work for his own sake, and yet the objections to placing his products in competition with free labour have been loud and strong. In some states the labour unions have also objected to the policy of teaching trades at the expense of the state, claiming that in this way the offender is given a decided advantage over the youth who has kept within the law.
Prison managers have been at their wits' end to find work to which objections would not be made. In San Quentin prison, California, the convicts work in a jute mill and at crushing stone for roads. The alleged monopoly price for sacks demanded by the few jute mills in the country has been lowered by prison competition, and the farmers approve. On the other hand, the labour performed while in prison has little relation to outside employment. In the Minnesota state prison, the manufacture of bindingtwine for cereal crops was begun to break down an alleged monopoly. North Carolina, and perhaps other states, use the labour of a large number of their convicts in agriculture. Here the product of convict labour is so small a proportion of the total product that the price received by free labour is hardly affected at all, and no objection has been made.
The larger number of the prisons which still engage in manufacturing are organised on the "piece-price" system,i. e.materials are furnished and a price as nearly as possible what must be paid to free labour is charged for each unit of product. By this method the abuses of contract labour, and the wastefulness of the state account system are avoided.
There are in the United States few great prisons which are known to all. The best known are of course those of states which contain large cities; first, because a larger number of the more notorious criminals come from the cities, and second, because the city newspapers give a larger proportion of their space to criminal news than do the journals of the smaller municipalities. Besides those already mentioned, other well known prisons are at Joliet, Illinois; Trenton, New Jersey; Columbus, Ohio; Baltimore, Maryland, and on Blackwell's Island in New York City.
The reformatory system of the United States strictly speaking began with the organisation of the Elmira Reformatory at Elmira, New York, in 1876,which was largely due to the efforts of Rev. E. C. Wines, who gave his life to the improvement of prison conditions, and to Dr. Theodore W. Dwight. They were much interested in the success of Colonel Montesinos, Captain Maconochie and Sir Walter Crofton abroad, and drew up a plan which was adopted by the legislature in 1869. The institution was to be distinctly reformatory, and sentences were to be indeterminate.
It was opened for reception of offenders between sixteen and thirty years of age in 1876 under the superintendency of Z. R. Brockway who has given to the institution its peculiar character. The statistics kept for a number of years show that sixty-seven per cent. of those entering are illiterate, that eighty-nine per cent. have no trade, and that more than sixty-eight per cent. do not have what could be classed as good physiques, and a considerable number may be classed as degenerates. Further ninety-eight per cent. are committed from the cities.
Effort is made to develop the inmates on all sides. Athletic training, gymnastic work and military drill are required. Attention is given to baths, massage, and diet. Instruction in the common branches is given, and there are frequent lectures, and entertainments. Debating societies are organised and every effort is made to turn the misdirected energy into saner channels. At the same time a part of every day is spent in the shops and the rudiments of trades are taught.
The inmates are divided into four grades with different privileges. Conduct marks based upon performance of duty, cleanliness, progress, etc., are given, and promotion to a higher or removal to a lower grade depend upon the prisoner's record. When a boy or young man has been in the upper first grade for six months he becomes a candidate for release on parole. If his record is good for six months after leaving the Reformatory he is usually discharged.
The officers claim that the institution has been an unqualified success, that out of five thousand discharged only three hundred and sixty-five were returned, and that about eighty-two per cent. of those committed are permanently reformed. On the other hand the officers of the regular prisons declare that their prisons are full of "Elmira graduates," and the state has built another institution at Napanoch which is to receive the more incorrigible material from Elmira, and with sterner measures again attempt reformation.
A number of states have adopted the system wholly or in part, including Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Illinois, Minnesota, Kansas and South Dakota. The degree of success has varied with the superintendent. The most interesting experiment is perhaps the Massachusetts Reformatory for women at Sherborn.
This institution for several years seemed on the point of failure, owing partly to the managementand partly to the fact that sentences were too short. Finally a woman of strong character, and broad sympathies, Mrs. Ellen C. Johnson, was induced to take charge and success appears to have followed her efforts. The general plan is the same as at Elmira, except that restraint is not so prominent. The large majority of the commitments are the result of intemperance and unchastity, and undoubtedly mother love plays a part in drawing back the inmates from improper or immoral lives. Inmates released on parole are in demand as domestics, and in many cases give entire satisfaction.
The fourth plan mentioned in the classification, the convict lease system, now exists in only a few states, chiefly in the South. Under this system convicts are leased to work in gangs outside the prison walls at mining, railroad and turnpike building, canal cutting and similar employments. The contractor pays the state a fixed sum per head for the convicts, feeds, clothes and guards them. Their management is in his hands, restrained in some degree by the continuous or intermittent presence of a state inspector. The work is generally laborious, the intelligence of the labourers is low and they are disposed to shirk. The contractor desires to make a profit and generally works the unfortunates to the limit of their endurance, clothing and feeding them as poorly as he dares. Almost unbelievable brutality has occurred in these convict camps, ending in many cases in thedeath of stubborn or rebellious individuals. A partially awakened public conscience no longer permits former abuses but disgraceful conditions are still periodically brought to light.
The authorities responsible for the leases excuse or defend them on the following grounds. They say that a large majority of the leased convicts are negroes of an order of intelligence so low that they can be utilised only to a limited extent in any work performed in the prison; that confinement without labour is regarded as rather pleasant than otherwise, as imprisonment in itself means to them little or no disgrace; that the labour is of the same kind at which they would be employed, if free. Therefore the state must support in idleness without punitive effect a large number of offenders, or else lease their labour outside the prison walls. While all these statements are in a measure true, it may well be doubted whether any state is ever justifiable in surrendering the guardianship of its own delinquents.
The two great obstacles in the way of prison improvement in the United States are parsimony and politics. Though the cost of some prisons is excessive the money is not always wisely spent. The salaries paid are seldom high enough to secure men of a high type of intelligence and character, for the subordinate positions at least. There are few men who are fitted for the work who are willing to take the places with the low salaries and uncertain tenureof office. In many cases attendants and keepers are ignorant and brutal and by their defects neutralise any reformatory effect.
This brings us to the second great evil; politics. Usually the higher positions at least in the prisons are regarded as a part of the patronage of the party in power. Appointments of superintendents, wardens and other officers are too often made with more regard to political expediency than to fitness. The rule is not universal. As mentioned above Mr. Cassidy of Philadelphia and Mr. Brockway of Elmira held their places regardless of political changes, but many men have been removed, just when they were beginning to become really efficient. Where civil service rules are applied to the lower positions it has been charged that the result has been rather to protect the inefficient, than to secure satisfactory service.
Institutions for the control and discipline of delinquents under sixteen years of age exist by the score. Some are under the control of the different religious denominations, as for example the Catholic Protectory in New York, while others are supported by private contributions or by the city or state. Street waifs without parents or with drunken or immoral parents may be committed by the courts, rather than to regular orphan asylums if they have shown vicious traits or are considered incorrigible. A parent who is unable to control a son or daughter, by making an affidavit to that effect before theproper officer, may secure admission for the child to some institutions.
The larger number of children committed however have broken the law. If sent to prison to associate with hardened criminals they are almost certain to become habitual criminals themselves, while discharge with a reprimand may be regarded by the boys themselves as weak leniency, and may cause contempt for the law. In some American cities, special children's courts are organised to take charge of complaints against children. Where the judges have that indescribable combination of qualities which gives influence over boys, they have been successful without resorting to confinement. A striking example is Judge Ben. B. Lindsay of Denver, Colorado, whose court has been widely described. Attempts by others to copy his methods have failed. When ordinary judges without particular sympathy or qualifications are assigned in turn to the courts, there seems to be little advantage in the organisation. Conditions however are so chaotic, that it is impossible to pass a judgment worth while.
The purposes of such institutions may be stated as the following: to inculcate respect for authority and create the habit of obedience; to impart the rudiments of education, to form habits of industry, to impart moral instruction. Some in addition teach or begin to teach trades. In the execution of these aims, we have very diverse organisations. Some of the institutions are in effect prisons, with walls, barsand guards. Others apparently exercise no more restraint than is seen in an ordinary boarding school. It is true that it is not entirely easy to leave the dormitory without detection, and that generally while at work or at play the inmates are under some sort of supervision, but the idea of restraint is not made prominent.
Another interesting experience is the George Junior Republic at Freeville, New York. Here a miniature state is organised with legislative, executive and judicial departments. So far as practicable, all offices are filled by inmates, with the idea that responsibility will bring out the better qualities. The plan has not been widely adopted, however, and the institutions are generally organised as schools.
Some of the more successful of this sort are the school at Glen Mills, Pennsylvania, at Golden, Colorado, at Lancaster, Ohio, and at Dobbs Ferry, New York. The Jackson Training School at Concord, North Carolina, organised on the plan of the Glen Mills school, has seemed to show that the same methods successful in an urban commonwealth are equally successful in a semi-rural state.
A large proportion of the children are orphans or half-orphans, and a larger proportion have been habitual truants. The average of energy and intellect is higher than will be found in an ordinary school. Sometimes it is their excess of energy that has caused their transgression. When subjected to discipline and compelled to attend school, manymake rapid progress and also acquire a sense of order and self-respect. On the other hand in very large institutions an unexpected danger has arisen. The manifold disciplinary influences have taught them obedience and industry but have at the same time deprived them of initiative. They have become "institutionalised" and find difficulty in adjusting themselves to life outside. They require constant direction.
For the purpose of avoiding this danger, the newer institutions are organised upon the "cottage plan." Instead of large dormitories, small houses, each under the charge of an officer and his wife, are built to accommodate twenty to forty boys. These are grouped around the administration building and the workshops. The results seem to show a great gain over the old methods but no one is yet ready to say that the ideal has been attained. Nevertheless, it can be said without fear of contradiction that the institutions for the training of juvenile offenders are more successful than any other part of the disciplinary and penal systems of the United States.
The combat of crime may be adjudged to have entered upon its latest stage by the acceptance of the more enlightened principles daily gaining attention in the most civilised countries. The treatment most in favour is preventative rather than punitive, which is considered at once the humane and efficacious method of dealing with crime. It is now being attacked in the youth when still impressionableand susceptible of cure. All criminality may be roughly separated into two principal divisions; first, those who should never be committed to prison; and secondly, those who should never be released from it. The widespread adoption of this axiom must go far to diminish the volume of crime. There is less and less recourse to imprisonment; sentences are inflicted for shorter terms, and it is avoided whenever possible by sparing first offenders from incarceration and postponing sentence on all who give promise of future amendment. The effect of this very commendable leniency is to be seen in the diminishing numbers of the actually imprisoned and the increased economy of gaol administration.
FOOTNOTE:[2]Life in Sing Sing by Number 1500.
[2]Life in Sing Sing by Number 1500.
[2]Life in Sing Sing by Number 1500.
Steady progress toward improved methods—Legislation to secure uniformity and proper principles of management—First effort to bring all local jurisdiction into line—Decision that all prisons must be under state control—Unification of system—Burden borne by the public exchequer—Remarkable results—Marked diminution in number of jail inmates—How convict labour has enriched the nations—Results at Portland, Chatham, Dartmoor—Extension of output—Chattenden and Borstal.
Steady progress toward improved methods—Legislation to secure uniformity and proper principles of management—First effort to bring all local jurisdiction into line—Decision that all prisons must be under state control—Unification of system—Burden borne by the public exchequer—Remarkable results—Marked diminution in number of jail inmates—How convict labour has enriched the nations—Results at Portland, Chatham, Dartmoor—Extension of output—Chattenden and Borstal.
Forty years have elapsed since England was forced to revise her methods of penal treatment, and to replace the system of transportation beyond the seas with home establishments, rather hastily improvised to meet a sudden demand. Reference has already been made to the institution of "penal servitude," so-called, the process of expiation to which condemned felons were subjected in the newly devised state prisons. The flaws and failures that became prominent in the earlier phases of the system have also been touched upon, as well as the salutary changes introduced from time to time by the legislature. Year after year steadfast and consistent efforts have been made to improve and develop, to remove blots in administration, to remedyshortcomings; to reform offenders, while obliging them to labour to recoup expenditure and to secure thereby some restitution from them. A brief survey will show the existing conditions of the British penal system of to-day.
The chief reason of the merit of the British system is, that it is the growth of time, the product of experience. In the many changes introduced in this century, the great aim and object has been progressive improvement. The movement has all been forward. There has been no slackness in correcting errors and remedying abuses since John Howard struck the key-note of indignant protest. Reform may not always have gone hand in hand with suggestion, but that has been because of the quasi-independence of the prison jurisdictions. British prisons in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were largely controlled by local authorities upon no very uniform or effective principles, although act after act of Parliament was passed for the purpose of betterment. In 1823 and 1824 two acts first laid down the rule that health, moral improvement and regular labour were as important objects in prison maintenance as safe custody. At the same time, some attempt at classification was made, and it was ordered, for the first time, that female prisoners should be controlled only by female officers. In 1835 a fresh act insisted that all prison rules should be subjected to the approval of the Secretary of State; a proper dietary was madeessential, without the "stimulating luxury" of tobacco. Classification, too, was again tried, but without good results, and the rule of separation at all times except during divine service, labour or instruction, was gradually adopted in theory and practice. Inspectors of prisons were appointed to exact obedience to the new laws. In 1839, an act permitted, but did not actually order, the confinement of each prisoner in a separate cell. The dimensions of these cells were stipulated, and it was insisted that they should be certified as fit for occupation. A surveyor-general of prisons was also appointed to assist and advise the Secretary of State as to prison construction.
The first substantial progress was made in the building of Pentonville, a prison which has served as a model for all prisons. Although copied in a measure from the old Roman monastery prison of San Michele, and following in design the famous Cherry Hill Penitentiary of Philadelphia, Pentonville was really a type in itself, and embraced so many excellences that it has never yet been greatly improved upon. In the six years following the establishment of Pentonville, fifty-four new prisons were built in England, providing cells for eleven thousand prisoners; but in 1850 a select committee of the House of Commons reported that several prisons were still in a very unsatisfactory condition, and that proper punishment, separation, or reformation in them was impossible. Parliament even thenwas strongly urged to entrust the supreme control of all prisons to one central authority, wholesome advice which was not accepted for nearly thirty years. But, although convicts sentenced to longer terms, which were usually carried out beyond the seas in the manner described in the earlier chapters, obtained much attention, the successive recommendations to improve the small outlying gaols, for short terms, were very imperfectly adopted.
The next great step was the Prison Act of 1865, which grew out of the report from a committee of the House of Lords, and which strongly condemned the lack of uniformity in the prison buildings, and in the punishments inflicted. Many of the practices which still prevailed even at that late date (1865) were really a disgrace to our civilisation. In some of the prisons the inmates lay two in a bed in dormitories without light, ventilation or control. Warders were afraid to enter them after dark. There was no uniformity in labour, or in the hours in which it was performed. In one prison the inmates lay in bed for fifteen hours daily. One of these gaols, which existed until the passing of the Act of 1865, and which was situated in the heart of a densely populated seaport town, has been described by its last governor. It was an ancient edifice, consisting of four parallel two-storied blocks. The lower story opened on a corridor, the windows of which were unglazed and communicated with the outer air. Above each cell door was a barredopening without glass, which served as a ventilator. In wet weather the rain poured into the passage; in a snow storm the snow flakes drifted through the cell-ventilators upon the bed which was just beneath, and which was often covered in the morning with snow an inch or two deep. There was no heating apparatus, and the place was desperately cold in winter. On the first floor there were a number of larger cells in which as many as seven prisoners were associated together, day and night, so crowded that the beds were stowed upon the floor, while hammocks were also stretched across them above. Sunday was the worst day of the week in this horrible old prison. After morning service, the prisoners took their dinners with them to their cells and were then and there locked up till the following morning. No one could get out, even if he were dying; there was no communication with officers or others outside. Here, in an atmosphere laden with fetid exhalations, amid filth of all kinds, the wretched prisoners were imprisoned for eighteen consecutive hours. These modern "black holes" were far worse than that of Calcutta in that their unfortunate inmates had daylight in which to observe with loathing and disgust the indecencies which surrounded them. Nor was it only in the accommodation provided that these poor creatures suffered. They were continually ill-used by their warders, who harassed and harried them at every turn. Each officer had a prisoner to wait upon himas a personal attendant, called his "lackey," who was always at his heels serving him hand and foot, and performing every menial office except that of carrying his keys. The outgoing governor who escorted his successor (my informant) around the gaol was imbued with the same brutal, reckless spirit, which he displayed by rushing into a cell, seizing a youthful prisoner by the shoulders, and shaking him violently, after which he threw him roughly upon the ground with the brief explanation, "You've got to show them you're master sometimes." The boy had not been guilty of any misconduct whatever.
In this gaol, all kinds of work was performed for the private benefit of the officers, a practice very generally prevalent in the gaols until a much later date. It was of the governor's perquisites to employ prisoners for his own behoof. There was jubilation in his family when a clever tailor or seamstress "came in;" new suits were at once cut out and made for the governor, his wife or his children. His house was fitted and half furnished by prisoners; they made arm-chairs, picture-frames, boot-racks. In one prison I heard of an excellent carriage constructed by a clever coach-builder who had gotten into trouble, and whose forfeited hours were thus utilised for the governor and not for the taxpayers. In another gaol an unexpected inspection revealed the mouth of a mysterious pipe leading from the kitchen, which when followed to its outletwas found to convey the grease and scourings straight to a flower bed in the governor's garden.
This deplorable state of affairs continued without change long after 1865. Twelve years later the uniformity sought by the act of that year had not been secured. Justices had not in every case realised their duties and responsibilities. Many prisons remained defective. All differed in their treatment of prisoners, and the criminal classes were themselves aware of the differences. It was a common practice for intending offenders to avoid a locality where the gaol discipline was severe. To secure the same measure of punishment in each institution was all the more important since criminals had learned to avail themselves of the many modern facilities for travelling from place to place, and crime was no longer localised. The same reason added another argument in favour of making the support of prisons an imperial rather than a local charge. It was a little unfair, too, that a district which had already suffered by the depredations of an evil-doer should bear the heaviest part of the expense of his correction. With these, there was a still stronger reason for concentration. Some relief of local taxation was earnestly desired, and the assumption by the public exchequer of prison expenditure seemed to promise this in an easy and substantial way, more particularly as the transfer of control would be accompanied by a revision of the means, and followed by a diminution in thenumber of prisons required. Such arguments fully justified Mr. (afterward Viscount) Cross in introducing the measure known as the Prison Act of 1877, which was passed that year, and contemplated great changes in the system as it then was; the first and chief being the transfer and control of all local prisons to a board of commissioners acting for the state.
All these have now taken effect, and after a test of twenty years may fairly be judged by the results achieved. Certainly the uniformity desired has at last been attained. Every prisoner now finds exactly the same treatment, according to his class and sentence, from Land's End to the Orkney Isles. Whether only an accused person, a debtor, misdemeanant, or condemned felon, he is kept strictly apart, occupying a cell to himself, the dimensions of which assure him a minimum air-content of 800 cubic feet, and which has been duly certified by one of the government prison inspectors as fit for his occupation, being lighted, heated, ventilated, and provided with bell communications, which are electric in some of the new prisons. From the moment he passes into the prison until he again finds himself on the right side of the gate, he is under exactly the same discipline, whether he is in the gaol of Bodmin, Newcastle, Norwich, Liverpool or Carlisle. Everywhere his bath awaits him; his prison clothing, if he is convicted, is furnished him; his first and every succeeding meal is based upon a dietaryframed by medical experts after the most mature deliberation. His day's task is fixed. If he is able-bodied, he must do six hours at more or less severe labour, breaking stones, making cocoa mats with a heavy beater, making sacks, digging, pumping, and so forth. This, the most irksome phase of his prison life, continues for one month, or more exactly, until he has earned 224 marks in the first series of the progressive stages which have been ingeniously adopted to secure industry and good conduct. Every prisoner holds in his own hands the ability to modify the penal character of his imprisonment, and by the exercise of these two qualities may gradually earn privileges and improve his position.
Whatever the cause—and it is easier to state the effect than apportion it among the causes that have produced it, there has been a steady diminution in the numbers sentenced to imprisonment, as compared with increased population in the years succeeding 1878, when the new system came into force. In that year the population of England and Wales stood at twenty-five millions and 10,218 was the number imprisoned of both sexes. In 1904 the general population was 33,763,468, while no more than seventy-nine hundred were imprisoned. And during the intervening years there has been a continuous falling off in the number of imprisonments.
"It certainly seems justifiable to infer from these figures that our penal reformatory system has beenmade effective," says Du Cane, in his "Punishment and Prevention of Crime;" "and the remarkably steady and sustained decrease ... must be considered to show that recent legislation, with which it so remarkably coincides in point of time, has in principle and execution not only completely succeeded in promoting uniformity, economy, and improved administration, but also in that which is the main purpose of all—the repression of crime." The decrease is even more remarkable in the convict prisons, those which receive the more serious offenders, sentenced to penal servitude.
The convict population of Great Britain is now just about half what it was some five and twenty years ago. Going back to 1828, when the population of the country was barely fifteen millions, there were in all,—in the penal colonies at the Antipodes, at Gibraltar and Bermuda, the Hulks at home and the Millbank Penitentiary, just fifty thousand convicts, or ten times what the total is to-day with a population of nearly thirty millions. Carrying the comparison a little further, there were 3,611 sentenced to transportation in 1836; in 1846, 3,157; in 1856, 2,715; in 1866, 2,016 (combined with penal servitude); in 1876, 1,753 to penal servitude alone; in 1886, 910. In 1891 only 751 imprisonments are recorded. This progressive decrease is doubtless largely due to the growth of that more humane spirit which has in recent years mitigated the severity of punishment, and which prompts thejudges to avoid the heavier penalties, as is shown, for instance, by the fact that in 1836 there were 740 life sentences, while in 1891 there were only four. It may be attributed also to the admitted punitive efficacy of penal servitude. That it is sufficient to visit even serious offences with shorter terms, a practice much facilitated by the recent reduction of the minimum period from five to three years, is amply shown by the record.
A few words must be devoted to the work of the convicts in the great British prisons. At Portland, during the years from 1848 to 1871 the convicts quarried no fewer than 5,803,623 tons of stone, all of which was utilised in the now famous breakwater, a stone dam in the sea nearly two miles in length and running into water fifty or sixty feet deep. The now presumably impregnable defences of the island, Portland Bill, the great works on the Verne, the barracks, batteries and casemates, were executed by convicts, who, as these works progressed, performed all the subsidiary services of carpentering, plate-laying, forging, and casting the ironwork. The enlargement of Chatham dockyard, a great feat of engineering skill, begun in 1856, was accomplished by convict labour. The site of St. Mary's Island, a waste of treacherous shore so nearly submerged by the tide that the few sheep that inhabited it were to be seen daily huddled together at the topmost point at high water, is now occupied by three magnificent basins capable of floatingalmost the entire British fleet. In fourteen years the convicts made one hundred and two million bricks for the retaining walls of these basins and excavated all of their muddy contents. The first, or repairing basin, has a surface of twenty-one acres; the second, or factory basin, twenty acres; the third, or fitting-out basin, twenty-eight acres. These basins were skilfully contrived to utilise the old watercourses which intersected the island. The bottom of the basins is twelve feet below the old river bed, and thirty-two feet below St. Mary's Island, which has been raised about eight feet by dumping on it the earth excavated from the basins. The whole island has been surrounded by a sea-wall and embankment nearly two miles in length, principally executed by convict labour. Work of a very similar nature and extent has been carried out at Portsmouth, and the enlarged dockyard there was given over to the admiralty a few years ago.
Dartmoor was an ideal penal settlement: a wild, almost barbarous place when the labour of the convicts was first applied to its development—to fencing, draining, making roads and parade-grounds, and to converting the old buildings into suitable receptacles for themselves and their kind. But the eventual employment of the prisoners was to be the farming of the surrounding moorland as soon as it was reclaimed; and this work has in effect occupied the Dartmoor convicts for more than forty years. What they have accomplished is best told byexperts. The following is extracted from a report in a recent number of the Royal Agricultural Society's journal.
"The management of the prison farm, Princetown," reads the report, "has converted a large tract of poor waste land into some of the most productive enclosures in the kingdom. The farm, which lies in the wilds of Dartmoor, at an elevation of some fourteen hundred to sixteen hundred feet above the sea, ... comprises in all two thousand acres, the whole of which was mere common or unenclosed waste land prior to 1850.... The land is divided into square fields of from fifteen to twenty acres by high stone walls, built of granite boulders raised in the prison quarries or from the land as the work of reclamation proceeds. An excellent system of reclamation, with scientific rotation of crops, has been devised. If the herbage fails, or becomes unsatisfactory, the land is again dug up ... but so good has been the management ... that the greater portions of the pasture laid within the last fifteen or twenty years are now in far too good a condition to require rebreaking. One field which twenty years ago was mostly rushes is now able to carry a bullock per acre through the summer. No purer or cleaner pastures are to be found anywhere.... Sixty-seven acres of meadow land have been laid out for irrigation and utilisation of the sewage from the prison establishment, which at times numbers upwards of one thousand persons. A dairyherd of forty-five cows is kept, and all the cows are reared.... A flock of four hundred sheep, 'Improved Dartmoors,' is kept and has frequently been successful in the local show-yards. The wool, for so high a district, is remarkably good and of long staple. Pony mares and their produce are run on the fields. One of the ponies bred on Dartmoor won first prize in its class at the Royal Show at Plymouth. Thirty acres of garden are devoted to the growth of garden vegetables, of which all kinds are grown, and much success has been obtained with celery and cucumbers. The whole of the work is done by convicts, without the aid of horses except for carting."
A great extension of convict labour has been seen in recent years. It has been employed in novel ways which would have been impossible but for the excellence of the present prison organisation and of the discipline now enforced. In 1876 a small prison for one hundred inmates was erected at Chattenden, near Upnor, on the north bank of the Medway. It was intended to house convicts to be engaged in constructing new magazines at Chattenden for the war department. The prison was built by a detachment of prisoners sent across the river from Chatham convict prison, and then by tramway to the site of the proposed work. The tramway passed through dense woods, and the site of the prison was surrounded by thick undergrowth. These seemingly hazardous operations were carried outwithout a casualty of any kind; no gang chains were used; no escapes, successful or frustrated, were recorded. The work was continued for nearly ten years, when the magazines were finished, and the prison, which throughout had been treated as a branch of the great headquarters prison at Chatham, was closed. During these ten years, besides the prison buildings, this small party had put up five large bomb-proof magazines, in addition to the formation and drainage of the roads, traverses and slopes adjoining. The experiment at Chattenden afforded an example of the use to which convict labour can be put, and of the circumstances under which comparatively small works can be undertaken by a small body of convicts in a separate prison erected for the purpose. A number of the buildings, being easily removable, have since been taken down to be otherwise made use of.
It is only fair to observe here that the same experiment had been made under the Austro-Hungarian government by M. Tauffer. This eminent prison official had recommended the adoption of the "progressive system" as far back as 1866, and had carried it out under his own direction at Leopoldstadt and Lepoglava, where his prisoners were employed on outside labour at the rate of thirty or even forty to each overseer, and yet no escapes occurred. These prisoners built another prison at a distance from Lepoglava, and were lodged for the purpose in sheds and outhouses beyond the prisonwalls. The doors were not even locked at night; there were no bolts or bars, the only barrier to escape being the rule that no one should leave the building after the hour for retiring at night.
The work at Chattenden had, however, been preceded by other similar and more extensive undertakings in England. The first was the preparation of a new and very simple prison edifice at Borstal, near Rochester; the second, the erection of the great separate prison at Wormwood Scrubs, with which I was myself closely identified from the beginning. The prison at Borstal was to house convicts who were to be employed under the war department in building fortifications for the defence of Chatham arsenal, and indirectly of London. As a preliminary measure, a boundary fence was erected at Borstal around the site of the new prison, and this work—but this alone—was performed by free labour, the very timber for the fence having been prepared in the prison at Chatham, four miles distant, which served as general centre and headquarters for the Borstal as well as the Chattenden prison. Parties of selected convicts were despatched daily to Borstal, under escort, of course, but without chains, and travelled back and forth in open vans. Temporary huts were put up for cooking, storage and the accommodation of the guard, and within sixteen weeks the prison buildings were so far advanced that forty cells were ready for occupation by prisoners, and the establishment was thenregularly opened as a prison. During this sixteen weeks there had been no accidents, no escapes, no misconduct. The convicts employed in this really "intermediate stage," having a larger amount of license and liberty than Sir Walter Crofton had ever dreamed of giving a prisoner, had behaved in the most exemplary manner. Within a year afterward, when the number of convicts had gradually increased to more than two hundred, all necessary buildings had been put up to accommodate a total population of five hundred prisoners.
The completion of the prison left the convicts free to carry out the works for which they had been brought to Borstal. But the very nature of these works was such as to startle prison administration of the old school, and to forbid, at first thought, the employment of convicts upon them. The site of the proposed forts was quite in the open country, and the first of them, Luton, at least two miles from Borstal prison. How were the convicts to be conveyed to and fro, without loss of time, without unnecessary fatigue, and above all, without risk of losing half the number by the way? A novel plan was boldly but happily conceived, and its absolutely successful adoption constitutes an epoch in prison history. It was decided to lay down a narrow gauge railway, along the line the forts were intended to cover, and send the prisoners to their work by train. Part of this plan was the invention of a special kind of railway-carriage, constructed with aview to safe custody, and this very unique and ingenious contrivance has since been constantly employed. These carriages are small, open, third-class carriages, with a sliding gate of iron bars. When the train is made up, a chain passes along the exterior of these gates, and it is padlocked at each end. The warders on duty occupy raised seats at each end of the train, and have the convicts under supervision continually. The compartments hold from eight to ten men each, and a train-load is made up of from eighty to a hundred convicts. The engines used are the once famous little locomotives that were sent out to the Sudan for service on the Suakim-Berber railway. Extreme simplicity characterises all these arrangements, yet they are perfectly suitable and quite sufficient. The same device was tried with success at Portsmouth convict prison, for the conveyance of convicts to Whale Island, distant a mile or more from the prison.
The effectual guarding of the convicts when at work was, however, a matter of equal importance. This, with the experience of many years gained in all varieties of outdoor employment, has been reduced almost to a science at Borstal. The works are enclosed by a wall ten feet high. There is a ditch on the inner side, and there are wire entanglements on the inner side of the ditch. The convict-laden train runs within the palisading and its passengers are marched to the various points on which they are employed. Some of these are in the openbeyond the palisading; but outside all, on a wide outer circumference, are sentries of the civil guard, on high platforms at regular intervals, commanding the ground between them. No fugitive could pass them unobserved, as they are on such a radius that they would have the fleeing convict a long time under their eyes while he was approaching. In addition to this, an elaborate system of signaling has been devised by means of semaphores at the highest points. These are worked by good-service convicts, men in the last year of their sentence, who can be trusted to use field-glasses and to communicate promptly any news that has to be sent on. In this way escapes are signaled, or a call for help made, if help be required, in event of disturbance among the parties at work. Escapes have no doubt occurred at Borstal, but they have been few and far between, always resulting in recapture, except in one or two instances.
Thus we have traced, in this and the preceding volume, the course of the beginning and the development of the prison system of Great Britain. Much that we now rightly consider inhuman marked its early history, in common with the conduct of all prisons of that early day. The period of deportation is certainly gloomy enough, until we stop to consider the splendid secondary results that have grown out of it in the building up of an Anglo-Saxon commonwealth in the southern hemisphere. The prison system of Great Britain, as it is to-dayestablished, is perhaps as advanced as any in the world, while the future promises advance and improvement wherever the one is called for and the other is possible.