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Vol. No. 10. REFORM. JOHN F. MEADE. Tbe silence of solitude broods o’er tbe prison; Tbe noise of machine and of hammer is still’d; Tbe dusk of the eve in the East has arisen; It moves till my view with its shadow is fill'd. No sound to intrude save beneath and above me, The tread of some prisoner pacing his cell; So silence and Solitude reign, till they move me In manner no language has power to tell. A something has sought me, and seems to be turn ing My thoughts to a path that is wonderful, bright. And fills my poor heart with an exquisite yearning, To move in its splendor and beautiful light: It may be ’tls Conscience who bids me in duty Re-enter the path I have strayed from so long; No matter, ’tis something which glows with such beauty. That I can but hail its appearance with song. The scenes of my past life flit ghost-like before me. And prove, that in life, I have played a mad part. A sorrow; it must be regret stealing o’er me, Has shown me this truth graven deep in my heart; And seeds of a faith that were years ago planted Deep down in my heart at a dear mother’s knee, Have burst into bloom; and ray nature has panted. And struggled, and leaped from sin’s servitude, free. Free, free from the chain which so cruelly fetter’d A nature no vice or no sorrow could chill. Free, now the mind, tho’ it may be unletter’d. Which strove at sin’s bidding that nature to kill. No more now the mad and the passionate yearning To move in those scenes, which to viciousness tend; For me a new beacon far brighter is burning O’er scenes, in that path where Hope, Honer, Peace, blend. There’s pardon for all who sincerely endeavor To tread in the path God has hedg’d for our feet. From His throne of mercy no penitent ever Is turned, tho’ his sins be with horror replete: And I who have sinn’d till His laws were forgotten, In confidence kneel at His glorious shrine, And know tho’ my heart to the core should be rotten, His Power can cleanse it, for He is divine. O God of my mother! far, far have I wandered Away from Thy teachings so pure and sublime; The grand single talent Thou gavest I’ve squander’d; Where Satan has beckon'd in folly and crime. The clouds that have shadow’d my yonng life are breaking; A ray that’s consoling I gladly behold; And now and forever, my dark path forsaking, 1 come back a penitent child to Thy fold. Oh! vainly in sin have I sought to find pleasure. When seeking for joy,where it never could grow, Until in my heart there was heaped up a measure Of sorrow, and aching, misfortune and woe. Sick now of sin, I renounce the gay revel, I’he dark evil path where I travel’d so bold; And break from my fetters, forg’d by the devil, Now praying for pardon, I come to the fold. Then nothing on earth from my duty shall stay me, The skeptical smile, or a cynical sneer, And gay friends’ opinions I will not let sway me, And skeptics, and cowards and bigots may ieer! While I seek the straight path that is rife with the story Of Christ, and friendships that never grow cold; For, God of my mother! Thy precepts and glory Now call me a penitent back to Thy fold. So let those who still wish, the gay pathway travel; But I from its trammels have sworn to be free: No more with the cares of existence I cavil. For now new emotions are surging through me. And deep in my heart dwells a firm resolution, — By which my life shall henceforth be controlled I’ll turn to my Savior'and seek absolution. And never more stray from His glorious fold. —Our Paper, Warnerville, Mass. THE CONVICT’S SON. How a Young Australian Surprised His English Friends. The yonng men were practicing archery on Mr. Howson’s lawn and Bud Markham had astonished every one with his skill as a marksman, says a writer in the New York Morning Journal. “Why, you shoot like an Indian,” said Jim Crawford. “I am worse than that,” Mid the other, calmly. “I was born in Australia, the son •«f a convict.” Frank Howson and tbe other “ IT IS NEVER TOO DATE TO MEND.” Stillwater, Minn.,'Thursday, Oct. 16,189 Q. young men drew away. The young host flushed angrily. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You know very well that if you’re the son of a convict we can’t associate with you, and so I’ll tell the coachman to have the carriage ready for the five o’clock train.” His young host’s plain speaking did not seem to give the other any uneasiness, for he answered with a short laugh: “All right—as you please. But you may change your mind about my not being good enougli to associate with after you’ve heard my story.” Frank looked uncertain at this moment, and then sat down and looked uneasily at the other, who began: “My father was arrested twenty-eight years ago on the charge of killing his uncle and tried for the murder. The testimony, which was entirely circumstantial, was not sufficient to hang him, but was so damaging that, in spite of his most solemn protesta tions of innocence, he was transported for life to the penal settlements of Australia. “He was taken there, and for ten years worked like a slave, with a chain and ball dragging at his heels. “At the end of that time another convict died in the same prison, where he had been sent for highway robbery, four years after father was transported. On his death-bed he confessed that he murdered my father’s uncle, and gave minute details of the crime, and even told the place where he had hid den the knife which he had used in the crime, and also where he had hidden the murdered man’s watcli and pocket book. “Of course my father was released and everything done for him by the government of New South Wales to show how deeply every one regretted that an innocent man should have suffered for so long. “In a year he married the daughter of a merchant who had visited the prison very often and had been a ministering angel to him and to the other convicts. “After living a short time in Melbourne his dislike of the city as being the place where he had suffered so much unjustly drove him to move away, and with my mother he went far up into the interior, in the brush, miles away from any human be ings, except the natives, and there built a log hut and lived for twelve years. “I was born soon after our new home was finished, and in less than two years after my brother came. We grew up to gether, witli no companionship but each other and the few natives who lived in the mountains near us. From them we learned how to throw the boomerang and draw the bow, until, young as we were, we excelled even them in their use. We could bring down the kangaroo with the bow at one hundred yards, even if it was running at full speed, and smash a bottle set behind a tree one hundred feet away with the boom erang. “When I was thirteen and my brother eleven, father discovered gold on his farm, which by that time had grown to thousands of acres, and in two months the country was flooded with miners and he was worth $500,000. "My mother prevailed upon him to move to Melbourne, where lie is now the Gover nor of New South Wales and one of the richest men in Australia.” “1 beg your pardon, ray dear fellow,” exclaimed Frank, eagerly extending his hand, while the others crowded around him with equally profuse apologies. But, to their astonishment and chagrin, he did not seem to notice any of the prof fered hands, but, with a quiet smile, he turned to Frank. “Now that you know how I came to handle a bow so well —as also how a man can be a convicted felon and yet be innocent of any crime—it would make your stock of information still more complete if you could learn that even if a father is guilty of crime it does not make his son any the less honorable or fit to associate with the world. Every man’s honor is in his own hands, and is not affected in the slightest by what others may do—it is by a man’s own deeds that he will be judged by his Maker! And now, my dear Frank, I will go to your house and pack my valise, and if you will have the carriage ready for the five o’clock train I will relieve you of my presence.” And, in spite of his friend’s protestations, the boy that afternoon shook from his feet the dust of the Howson estate. Those who think exactly alike do not make the best friends. People who move in parallel lines can never get on together. —Puck. HEREDITARY INSANITY. Is It Possible to Check or Ultimately Extinguish Hereditary Predisposi tion to Insanity? The clinical records of some of the more advanced public and private establishments in America and England for the treatment df the insane prove most emphatically and satisfactorily that, in many instances, it may be checked, though not entirely elimi nated, by the employment of such an intel lectual and moral education as would power fully help to clarify the judgment and in vigorate the will. Bnt although under such circumstances the tendency to mental alien ation may be restrained and laid dormant in the individual, this latent insane temper ament or tendency will undoubtedly be transmitted to the offspring, in all its pris tine intensity—unless the marriage has been contracted with a person entirely free from this insane element. Therefore, the only true safeguard against such a calamity as the perpetuation of this semi-insane con dition through a series of generations, would be the absolute legal prohibition of all marital or sexual relations between the members of families known to possess this hereditary tendency; and, in exceptional cases where marriage was permitted to a person so affected, it should previously be made the subject of anxious investigation and selection. These remarks have a pe culiar force when we take into considera tion the fact that, in the majority of in stances, persons of talent or genius develop ing this insane tendency, have a peculiar affection for, and exercise a special fascina tion over, the opposite sex—they are drawn toward each other by a species of elective affinity, and marriages between them often take place—an intensification of the cere bral derangement in the offspring being the inevitable result. The children of such a marriage, if they do not themselves develop positive imbecility or idiocy, evince emo tional susceptibilities, wild flights of imagi nation, and empty idealistic aspirations, while they are wanting in common sense and the power of regulated activity. And, beyond all, they instinctively seek out the most exciting circumstances of life, the in fluence of which is adapted to foster rather than to check their special tendencies; and they apply a similar mismanagement to their offspring, who are thus doubly cursed. In all cases of insanity, whether acquired or hereditary, the most dangerously efficient of all external agencies in aggravating or creating a predisposition to insanity, is the intemperate or even moderate use of intox icants. Before we leave the consideration of this important subject to the contemplation of our readers, there is a correlative phase of the question which occurs to our mind as worthy of a brief examination: CRIMINAL INSANITY. In a previous article, we have briefly treated on “Hereditary Insanity,” as ap plied to crime, and have promulgated the idea that crime or criminal tendency is not the product of hereditary taint, but is di rectly traceable to the surroundings and as sociations of the criminal. There are, of course, exceptions to all rules; but the great burden of evidence, as demonstrated by the records of the penal institutions in this country, goes to show that the instances where crime is originated in a diseased mind, are fortunately, like angels’ visits, “few and far between.” A man sinning against his own nature is not a criminal, he is simply unfortunate. For instance, a man of good habits and honest proclivities, but accidentally overtaken by liquor, is not a criminal—the person who supplied him with the intoxicants is the real criminal. Crimes are prompted by avarice, laziness, love of excitement, indulgence in the animal passions, intemperance, revenge, fanat icism. The perpetrators are deficient in will-power or unable to withstand tempta tion —but in none of these cases could the cause be laid to hereditary insanity. Even those emanating from fanaticism or fancied wrong, deficiency of intellect, or the frenzy of intoxication could only be classed under the head of monomania and temporary in sanity. There are, however, a large num ber of criminals who become insane after their conviction and incarceration —the nat ural and direct outcome of the sudden change from outside life, the enforced monotony, separation from friends and rela tives, unavailing regrets and remorse for the Pive Gents. past, and the practice of pernicious habits— but, in all these cases, judicious modifica tion of treatment —and. where possible, a removal of the cause of the trouble,, will re sult in the disappearance of the trouble itself. F. J. G. Charlestown Prison, Mass. Young Men in History. For the encouragement of young men who think they can do nothing, an exchange has taken the trouble to compile a few sta tistics which will be interesting to them. Alexander was 33 years when he died, after having conquered the whole world. Han nibal was 29 when he led his army across the Alps into Italy. Napoleon had won the victories which established his fame as the greatest living master of the science of war before he was 29. Washington was 23 when he was made commander of all the forces of Virginia, and was still a young man when the Ameri can revolution broke out. William Pitt was first minister of England at 24. Thomas Jefferson was 33 when he wrote the Declaration of Independence. James Madison was 36 when he t became the “Father of the Constitution.” Alexander Hamilton was only 30 when he wrote the larger part of the “Federalist,” which John Fiske calls “the most author itative commentary on the constitution that can be found.” Goethe’s “Sorrows of Werther,” the parent of much that is best, as well as worst in the literature of our day, was written when he was 25. Byron’s first canto of “Childe Harold,” which placed him at once among the most famous poets of England, was written at 21. Ruskin was 23 when he wrote the first volume of “Modern Painters.” Edison is still a young man, and Stanley had found Livingstone and made his> memorable jour ney across Africa before he was 35. Tlie Criminal. The work of Mr. Havelock Ellis owes its origin to the rather remarkable fact that two branches of investigation which ought to be pursued together, the scientific and practical, have, in the case of his subject, been kept widely and unreasonably sepa rate. The scientific study of the criminal class has been prosecuted chiefly in Italy, where many excellent works relating to it have been published, of late years, by scholars of the first rank. In England, on the other hand, not one important work of that character has appeared; but the prac tical methods of dealing with this class of the population have been studied and elab orated with singular success. Mr. Ellis has undertaken the task of bringing together the results which have been achieved in both departments. He has done his work with much judgment and care, and has pro duced a book full of interesting facts and, useful suggestions. The physical traits and mental characteristics of the habitual and the occasional criminal are minutely de scribed. Many striking photographic por traits illustrate these descriptions, with a fidelity which is sometimes both grotesque and saddening. The methods of discipline and mental improvement which have been pursued with gratifying results in some European and American prisous are also described in a highly interesting fashion. It is satisfactory to find that an American institution, the Elmira Reformatory, seems to lead all the rest, both in the intelligence with which its system of training is con ducted, and in actual success. For the fut ure of society it is not a little reassuring to learn that of the nearly 4000 prisoners who had been received at the reformatory, “on an indefinite sentence,” during the thirteen years from its opening to the end of 1889, over 2300 were paroled, and of these only about fifteen per cent are estimated as hav ing “probably returned to criminal practices and contact.” This is an immense and in deed astonishing advance beyond what seemed the almost hopeless results of the older systems. One caution should be given. Science has sometimes to pursue its way by paths which lead through morasses not to be traversed by the steps of “virgins and boys.” Mr. Ellis’ work will be a helpful guide to philanthropists and anthropologists; but it is not a book for a school library.— The Critic. Sorrow is knowledge; they that know the most must mourn the deepest o’er the fatal truth: the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.—Byron.