It is a commonplace, dating from the middle of the eighteenth century, that we must educate our prisoners, as it was also the common injunction that we must inspire them with the teachings of religion, and the habit of industry.

At a time when education was the privilege of the few, and no national system was in existence, and when the average length of sentence gave opportunity for methodical and continuous teaching, it was reasonable that advantage should be taken of a long period of enforced custody to establish a system, where, at least, the many illiterates coming to prison could be taught the simple lessons of reading, writing, and arithmetic.

Records, however, do not show that before all prisons passed under the control of the Government a very serious effort had been made to grapple even with illiteracy, to say nothing of schooling in the more advanced subjects. When the Local Prisons were taken over by the Government in 1878, there were only 50 schoolmasters in 113 prisons. 'Hard Labour' was the dominant note in prison administration, regardless of the obvious fact that simple manual labour unaided by the increased aptitude that follows upon even a moderate cultivation of the mind, will not rehabilitate a man or enable him to rise to a higher level of existence. Half-an-hour a week, or even a quarter of an hour, was all that could be set aside from the demands of labour for such a purpose as teaching a prisoner to read or write, or perform those simple calculations in money, by which he could regulate the spending power of his wages, or estimate his domestic budget.

No great advance was made even after the Government assumed control, though the subject of education in prison was, on more than one occasion, the subject of special inquiry.

Even at that time, the question was considered whether the passing of the Compulsory Education Act in 1870 had not relieved the Prison Authority of the duty of adult teaching in its elementary sense, and whether it might not be assumed that all persons coming in later life to prison had acquired a sufficient learning in elementary subjects in the National schools. But statistics showed that in 1880 the number of illiterates coming to prison was practically the same as before the passing of the Act—about 33 percent., while the number of those who could only read and write imperfectly was no less than 62 per cent. It was obvious that some years must elapse before elementary teaching in Prisons could be dispensed with. If we examine statistics since 1880, it is true that we find a large decrease in the number of illiterates coming to prison. In 1890 there were 37,000 committed who could neither read nor write: in 1900, 28,000, and in 1913 (the last recorded year) the number had fallen to 18,000,—representing for each year 25, 19, and 13 per cent. of the total committals, respectively. The bulk of the prisoners fall within the category of those who "can read and write imperfectly, or with moderate proficiency," and concurrently with the decrease in the proportion of illiterates received, these have risen from 72 per cent. in 1890, and 75 per cent. in 1900, to 82 per cent. in 1913. But the remarkable feature of these statistics is that, after 50 years of compulsory education, over 18,000 should be committed annually who are unable to read or write. These disappointing figures may be explained in various ways. Either a large number of those forming the criminal class, by reason of vagrancy and absence of settled home and life, slip through the meshes of the educational net: or, in the years between the school-leaving age and the apprenticeship of crime, they forget all they have learnt: or the rudiments of learning are not impressed with sufficient force and concentration in the tender years, when impressions are most likely to remain. Educational experts may argue as to this, but the fact remains that, judged by prison statistics, our costly and elaborate system of public education is not at least producing the results which were anticipated by those who dared to think fifty years ago that elementary teaching would be no longer required in Prisons; and so the Prison authority still remains in a sense an educational authority; but the rôle it plays is not ambitious, and does not aim higher than to teach the illiterate to read and write, and in the small space and opportunity given, to raise to a higher standard those who are just a little better than illiterates.

For many years all prisoners under the age of 40, and with sentences of three months and over were taught in prison. Experience has, however, shown that better results can be obtained by concentrating attention on the young, and on them even if the sentence is quite short—more than a month. The rule is now to confine education to those under 25 years of age; with power to admit older prisoners to the privilege, where the circumstances of the case would promise any practical result.

At the present time, it is estimated that about 5,000 prisoners under 25 in a year, who on reception are below Grade III. of the National Code pass through the schools, and, as a result of such education as will be given, about 33 per cent. succeed in passing out of this Grade in a year, while 74 per cent. pass one or more grades during the year.

Our teaching staff is recruited from our own discipline staff. Capable and intelligent warders are given the opportunity, subject to satisfying the Civil Service Commissioners that they possess the necessary literary requirements, of entering the Schoolmaster class. Having passed such literary test, they are appointed for six months, when their ability to teach is tested by the Chaplain of the Prison, and then, subject to confirmation by the Chaplain-Inspector of Prisons, they pass into the permanent Schoolmaster grade.

It is not an ambitious scheme, nor is it pretended that our Schoolmasters can compete in learning and ability to teach with the trained teacher of our public schools; but, given the nature of the task they have to perform with a fugitive class, many of whom are not desirous to learn, or to re-learn what they have once been taught, it may be stated that they adequately fulfil the purpose for which they are appointed.

Although the classes are now limited to the younger prisoners, there is, of course, an infinite diversity in the standard of education, ranging from the illiterate to the half-educated, and those who having, perhaps, been taught, have forgotten what they once knew. Formerly, education was given to each individual prisoner in cells; but now it is given in class. The best plan would probably be to revert to cellular teaching in the case of those who, from the absence of a common standard of education, cannot usefully be taught in class. Here, again, 'individualization' is asked for. In the case of the younger prisoners, now collected in depôts under the "Modified" Borstal System, we have lately made arrangements with the local education Authority to lend us a trained teacher, who comes in the evening after hours of labour, and conducts what is of the nature of a "Continuation Class," the teaching being adapted to the requirements of each. This plan has worked very successfully and might, with advantage, be extended. The whole question is now under consideration.