London Labour and the London Poor, Vol. 4

by Henry Mayhew

That a mode of treatment which affords such a remarkable coincidence, and such a striking parallel to the divine method of dealing with the sinner, so eloquently taught under the parable of the Prodigal Son, should be found by experience to be the only really efficacious one, can hardly be a matter of surprise. The fact is too notorious to require any proof that in numberless instances

‘Law and terrors do but harden’

the heart which can be easily subdued by the exhibition of Christian kindness. Here is the omnipotent weapon which has achieved such moral victories, when wielded by gentle and loving women, like Miss Marsh, Mrs. Wightman, and Mrs. Sheppard.

The opposite mode of treatment, however successful it may be in the restoration of external character, or in the subjugation of turbulent passions, is defective, inasmuch as it fails to influence the heart, and therefore at best contributes only to an incomplete and partial cure. The almost penal character of the system pursued in many of the older penitentiaries is founded on the misconception, that the injury sustained by society in the departure from virtue of her female members, can only be atoned for by some personal mulct inflicted on the offender. While, therefore, the ultimate object is the reformation of lost character, this is too often overlooked or rendered subsidiary to the proximate one of propitiating society; and the austere regimen by which the latter point is secured, is generally found to be subversive of the other. When, however, as is too frequently the case, society is the tempter, the offence may surely be condoned by a less rigorous process! Society may indeed well waive the right to compensation for supposed damages, when it can be proved that she is at least particeps criminis, and when, moreover, she has a personal interest in the speedy restoration of her unhappy prodigals. The retributive suffering, which, in the majority of cases, so surely overtakes the female delinquent, may be urged as another reason for dealing leniently with the erring; but the strongest justification of such a method is undoubtedly derived from the success attending it, and from the Divine sanction which it has received.

The impediments which the old penitentiary system of close confinement, criminal fare, and hard labour, have unfortunately presented to the rescue of fallen women is too well known to those who are accustomed to deal with this class. Frequently are the urgent entreaties of the missionary to forsake an abandoned course of life, and seek shelter in some institution, met with either rancorous denunciations against the penal system, or by polite but firm refusals to submit to the discipline, which is supposed to extend to all reformatory asylums.

Gradually, however, this prevailing opinion is being cleared away, and the fallen women themselves are not slow to distinguish between the two opposite methods of treatment, a fact which is rendered clearly apparent by the overwhelming number of applications for admission into those Homes which are characterized by a more humane and gentle regimen.

The oldest reformatory institution in the metropolis for the reception of fallen women is The Magdalen Hospital, founded in 1758. During the last 100 years of its existence nearly 9,000 women have been admitted, about two-thirds of whom have been restored to friends or relations. At the time when this charity was first instituted “the notion of providing a house for the reception and maintenance of ‘Penitent Prostitutes’ seems not to have suggested itself to the public mind. Even good and actively benevolent men appear to have been startled at the novelty of the proposition, while they doubted the wisdom, and still more the success of such an attempt. The newspapers of that period contained both arguments against, and ridicule of the plan and its promoters. God, however, blessed the undertaking, and raised up friends and supporters in every direction.”

So that eighteen years after its incorporation its friends were able to use the following cheering language.

“We see many fellow-creatures, by means of this happy asylum, rescued from sorrow in which they had been involved by all the iniquitous stratagems of seduction; in which condition they had been detained by a species of horrid necessity; from which they had no probable or possible retreat; and in which they must, therefore, according to all human appearance, have perished. We see them restored to their God, to their parents, to their friends, their country, and themselves. What charitable heart, what truly Christian hand can withhold its best endeavours to promote an undertaking so laudable, so beneficent? Who would not desire to add to the number of souls preserved from the deepest guilt—of bodies rescued from shame, misery, and death? Who would not wish to wipe the tear from a parent’s eyes—to save the hoary head from being brought down with sorrow to the grave?”

An interval of half a century elapsed after the foundation of the Magdalen Asylum before the establishment of any similar institution. Within the last ten years, however, public attention has been directed with increasing interest to this subject, and numerous efforts have been made to provide more ample accommodation for those who are desirous of escaping from their wretched mode of life.