128 CONDITION OF DISCHARGED PRISONERS.

the bad reputation of a ticket-of-leave man. I give an instance of this, in the introductory chapter, the case of a blacksmith who refused to give the prisoner more than his board and lodging for his labour.

W. M. writes "I commenced working the week after I came home. I began to work with Mr. but as he declined giving me the wages generally paid to our trade, I was compelled to leave him; but I got work the next day from Mr. M and I get more than the set wages from him. I earn two pounds ten in the fortnight. I have become a regular attendant at the Rev. Mr. -'s church."

The condition of a discharged prisoner, or a prisoner liberated on licence, has many disadvantages the natural consequences of his misconduct. A prisoner writes-" I am working in a mill, as under-looker, at ten shillings per week. I am in my own name, and no one knows me, as yet.”

M.'s father writes-" My son was most cheerfully received; and during his stay, behaved en

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tirely to my satisfaction, remarkably quiet and steady, and keeping good company. However he fancied he was not altogether looked upon as usual, and therefore enlisted in the -th regiment of foot."

W. P., who is evidently a more dashing fellow, bears his misfortunes with a higher head:

"My friends received me with every possible kindness. I got employment for a short time, but work falling short, I thought it more honourable to serve Her Most Gracious Majesty in the Royal Militia. When the proper time comes, I hope you will send the rest of my money to my poor old mother."

It is his prison gratuity that he sends to his poor old mother. We have good hopes, after this, that W. P. will live "long in the land," to serve his Queen and his country.

There are some fiends in human form, who would refuse poor convicts a place of repentance, and take every opportunity of pointing them out, and blowing upon them.

VOL. II.

K

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RELEASED CONVICTS' LETTERS.

T. M. writes to the chaplain of Woolwich—" I am the young man that left the ship on the 29th of December last, and I am now in the Reformatory, Westminster. I am sorry to tell you that after I left the ship, I went to Manchester, where I got employment, and worked three weeks, when some one told my employer that I had been convicted, and I was thrown out of work. Sir, my misfortune has been great; but I hope, by God's grace, to become a useful member of society."

Another prisoner writes-"I have now a very nice place, and like it very much, but I am afraid of its being known that I was once in Portland Prison."

The condition of some of the discharged prisoners, for want of employment, is very distressing. Some of their letters would melt a heart of stone.

J. K. writes to the Governor of Portland Prison-"Sir, I have been in great distress since I was discharged. I now appeal to you for advice, as I have had only four days' work since I

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left Portland; and I have no friends to lend me any assistance. I wish to obtain an honest living, and will endeavour to be faithful to those who will employ me. I assure you what I have stated is true, as the gentleman who signed this letter can testify."

A Portland Prisoner writes to the chaplain"I am sorry to say that I have not had much employment. I have joined the militia. I would rather do anything than commit myself again, and return back to Portland.”

Let those who imagine that our prisons are rather pleasant places of residence-so pleasant that prisoners rather prefer them, for a change, read what follows.

J. B. writes to the chaplain of Portland Prison"I am at work with my brother, at my own trade. I had scarcely been at home three days, when some of my old companions wanted me to go out drinking. The answer I gave them was, 'No, my sufferings were too great at Portland, ever to allow me to go drinking again.''

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CONVICT'S LETTER.

The following is an extract from the last prisoner's letter that passed through my hands. The writer is a prisoner in Spike Island. The letter is addressed to his brother :

"If you had the same sad experience that I have had, you would have abundant proofs that it is easier to get into a place of this kind, than out of it-the remembrance of which should have a salutary effect.

"Now that my term is near a close, I may say with truth, that the hard labour ordeal, through which I have passed, has served me in many respects. It has made me much stronger. My power of endurance is often a matter of surprise to me. Being thrown, to some extent, on my own resources, has made me more confident in myself than formerly. Heretofore my mind was continually disturbed by a painful sense of incapacity."

The mental and bodily discipline which has exercised such an influence on this prisoner, fitting him to battle with the trials of the world, was