exceptions, but these are comparatively rare, where the reverse might well be anticipated. A very small proportion of the convict population violate the law again after transportation; and when it does happen, it may with probability be attributed rather to some mental aberration or organic defect in the individual, disposing unconditionally to a particular line of conduct, than to the vicious inclination of a really sound or entire intellect. Indeed, no one for any length of time will examine the character of our criminal population, without observing that habitual crime is more frequently associated with weak mental powers than the reverse. Minds so constituted have often a bias that no discipline or instruction can remove; but more often they display a plasticity easily moulded by educational influences. With regard to those convicts who have sound intellects, there does not exist any good reason why they should not conduct themselves as well as the unbranded portion of the community. There is reason to believe that no one lives who has not committed some crime, and that many actually contract more moral guilt who escape or defy the terrors of the law, than numbers of those who are legally sacrificed to offended justice. Hence it is unreasonable to suppose that there do not exist the same arguments in favour of honesty for the individual who has suffered the punishment due to his crime, as for him who has escaped, but who possesses no higher moral principle. It would even appear just to believe that the painful experience of the consequences of crime would render the tranquil beauty of a virtuous life more attractive to the convict, considering him essentially the same as his brother man. Nor does there appear any reason to believe that his disposition is radically worse than that which pertains to numbers who are understood to perform their social duties in an exemplary manner. The accidents of fortune often leave a man scarcely master of himself, thus to some extent abrogating his moral responsibility. We must therefore, in judging of the guilt of a certain action, not lose sight of the contingent causes which led to it. These, if all understood, would often constitute a reasonable exculpation for what, at first sight, would be considered an atrocious crime. Whether these opinions are correct or not, we may justly expect to see them confirmed or disproved by the moral and social condition of the convict population of Tasmania and the neighbouring colonies. This expectation, indeed, receives the most satisfactory confirmation in the prominent positions which we observe numbers of the convict class occupying, creditably and deservedly, in every grade of social life. Indeed, the great majority of this class who have completed their sentences, return into the bosom of society, without showing any inclination to resume their former practices. They thus form a numerous, and, for the wants of a young colony, a most important class of labourers. Those who continue unbenefited by the discipline and moral treatment they have undergone, constitute so small a minority that it scarcely diminishes the value of the majority. Besides, I have little doubt that even this minority would decrease if the sexes were more nearly equalised, thus giving an opportunity of strengthening virtuous resolutions by the ties of domestic happiness. Even at the present time there is a general appearance of public order and decorum observed, which may often be sought for in vain in countries possessing what is considered a more select population. These considerations have induced me to consider that the presence of convicts in Tasmania has proved the very life-blood of the colony. Whether the discontinuance of the system will arrest the present prosperity, and restrict the progress of improvement, remains to be seen. An opportunity was afforded the writer, while at Hobart Town, of visiting three establishments, where different classes of convicts were placed, viz. the Penitentiary, the Old Wharf Station, and the Cascades. The first of these, as regards extent and construction, is most worthy of notice, but it is impossible to visit any of them without admiring the order and cleanliness which reign everywhere. The Cascades is exclusively occupied by females, some of whom are kept in solitary cells, while others are engaged in washing, spinning, nursing, and, in short, in all the usual occupations of women. In the establishments for males, every degree of industrial training and moral discipline is in constant application. There is no loss of power or time observed in these, which the wisest regulations could economise. All is conducted on the truest principles of utility, without sacrificing for a moment any speculative good. Hence we observe that the criminal population, by acquiring skill and industrious habits, becomes a prime element in the productive labour of a country, entirely in accordance with its material interest, and, at the same time, with the moral reformation of the criminal himself. Besides the above establishments there are various others in different parts of the colony, all maintained for some special object; some for the secure detention of incorrigible offenders, others for specific operations, or for the more equable diffusion of labour, or the more convenient punishment-when necessary-of convicts who are undergoing their probationary sentences in private service. These prisons, or barracks as they may often be termed, accommodate a very large number of convicts—a fact forced upon the attention by meeting everywhere its inmates, clad in their usual grey uniform, or—if sentenced in consequence of committing some new crime-a motley suit of brown and yellow. These, in colonial parlance, are magpies or canary birds. One cannot help remarking how quietly and unremittingly these men pursue their labours. There is a certain subdued air about them, which can scarcely fail to excite sympathy, and which appears so natural to the individuals, that no one could believe them to be reckless criminals when at large. The system of police is so efficient, that the presence of a guard is seldom necessary to maintain subordination amongst them, when executing their duties. It is not unusual to observe from twenty to fifty at work, with only one or two overseers, one or both being expiree convicts. It is, perhaps, true, that individuals who have passed through the regular stages of convict life are the best adapted for such duties, as they probably can enter more intimately into all the prisoners' thoughts, and have thus a greater power in directing and controlling them. (Continued.) ON A YOUNG SEAMAN WHO WAS ACCIDENTALLY DROWNED, MAY 31, 1852. FAREWELL, hapless Esterford! thou sleep'st 'neath the billow; Unceasing it rolls o'er thy cold clammy breast: The sea-weeds thy shroud, and a hard rock thy pillow, Thy lone dirge is sung by the birds of the ocean, Unfortunate young seaman, bereft of all feeling, Hush'd, hush'd is thy tongue, which with kindness did move; And glazed are thine eyes that beamed with affection, Yes! the unfeigned affection of brotherly love. Over thy hapless fate thy fond father's bosom, And theirs who sincerely thy presence so lov'd, Will bleed, when apprised of thy soul's quick transition, To where countless myriads claim Christ's pardoning blood. Oh, in that awful hour when the Archangel's trumpet To yield up the ashes of those who for ages Be He then thy refuge, who sealed upon Calvary J. C.* WEEKLY RECORD. WE have been more unfortunate in the south-east "trades" than we had reason to anticipate, owing to the very southerly direction they maintained, rendering it * Vide Note, p. 105. |