Only a few months ago such a case came before one of our courts. An exceedingly well-dressed woman had obtained a summons against a school-teacher for beating her child, a boy under four years of age, who had attended school for nearly a year. He was a plump, robust, restless child, dressed in blue velvet and cream lace. The case occupied some hours in settlement, two solicitors and doctors being interested in it, besides some half-dozen witnesses. I closely watched the mother and infant, and saw that she herself had not the slightest control over the boy. He was restless, and would be meddling. She spoke to him several times without any effect, and twice at least she snatched his arm with considerable violence, but he paid no heed; evidently he was under no discipline at home. But he was an encumbrance, and so, at an age when he ought to have been in the nursery at home or rolling on the carpet, he was sent to a Board School, that the mother might not be bothered with him.

It is good to know that the poor mother who has to go out to work can send her young children to the Board School, where they will be taken care of; but it points to something wrong when well-dressed and well-to-do mothers send their infants to such places in order to be rid of them for a time. Such mothers, incapable of training or controlling their own children, bitterly resent anyone else trying in the least degree to discipline them. They cannot be worried or bothered with their own little ones, but precious little they care what trouble or worry is brought upon others; but the children must not be chastised. This is one of the signs of the times, and it pervades a good many sections of society, with disastrous results, for hundreds of children become, not only wilful and wicked, but also criminals, because of it. I am continually getting letters from parents—fathers and mothers—asking my advice or assistance with regard to children whom the parents declare themselves unable to control. I have been offered money if I would take such children off their parents’ hands, and place them somewhere where they could not annoy their parents.

I know that in the best regulated homes, where parents love their children, and take infinite pains with them, sometimes boys and girls of tender age develop strange and even extraordinary characteristics, and the parents are often at their wit’s end with regard to them. I remember a boy of eight being charged with stealing two pounds from his parents. He had made his way to Euston, and booked to Liverpool, taking a half-ticket. He got to his destination safely, but was soon in the hands of the police for wandering. The London police were communicated with, and by them he was fetched back, to be charged with the theft. He was an inveterate traveller, and it was by no means the first time that he had taken a long railway journey ‘all on his own.’ These kind of boys are by no means scarce, and interesting lads they are, exhibiting as they do pluck, resource, and self-reliance.

Another boy of the same age had left home above a dozen times, and had taken considerable railway journeys without once paying for a ticket. In his way he showed great skill. He lived at Old Ford, and would get on the platform at Victoria Park and into the train, change at Dalston—where he would not have to leave the station—get into a Willesden train (N.L.), get down to the main line, and travel to St. Albans and other places. On the last occasion he travelled to Fenny Stratford, but was brought back and charged. The magistrate stopped his wanderings for a time by sending him to an industrial school till he was sixteen. These lads have talents which ought to be made useful; they are worth looking after.

But the great majority of boys and girls go wrong not because of any extraordinary character they may have, but because of the indifference, idleness, or worthlessness of their parents. I am persuaded that it is not the poverty of the parents, not the environments of the children, not the possession of criminal instincts, that lead the great bulk of boys to wrong, but the utter indifference and incapability of parents, though, indeed, it sometimes happens that such parents have children that appear to be criminals almost from birth. What can be said of two small boys, one under twelve, the other about eight years of age, who stood in the dock a few days ago? They were exceedingly small for their age, neither of their heads appearing over the dock-rails, so they were brought out and taken up to the magistrate. The charge against them was that of being in unlawful possession of a gold ring, which they had endeavoured to pawn. They both declared that they found it. Perhaps they did, but, unfortunately, they had both been on the ‘kinchin lay’ for some time past, and were in partnership. The proceeds of their robberies were duly tabulated, and there does not appear to have been any dispute about the partition of profits. On the elder boy was found a small manuscript book, which he had made himself by cutting sheets of paper and stitching them together. His full name and address was fairly written on the cover. Inside were some quotations from the New Testament, followed by the names of bygone wars, and of existing British regiments. Then came the daily account of their business transactions, which appear to have been somewhat extensive. Some of the entries were as follows:

Monday morning,¼d.,3½d.,3d.,1½d—total, 8¼d.}Total, 1s. 2¾d.
Monday afternoon,½d.,3d.,2d.,1d.—total, 6½d.}

They freely admitted that this was an account of money taken on one day from smaller children, who had been going on errands. Veritable Noah Claypoles both, it would appear. But from a long conversation that I had with them, I came to the conclusion that it was not inherent wickedness on their part, but the wicked indifference of their parents, that made them what they were. I noticed, too, that although the boys were several times before the court before they were disposed of, and had been twice remanded to the workhouse, the parents did not come near, and never troubled to make a single inquiry about the boys. We hear a great deal about the cruelty of parents to children, and a National Society exists to prevent or punish it. But I would like to see the national conscience aroused on the indifference and apathy of parents, for great as the evils of cruelty to children undoubtedly are, they are infinitesimal compared to evils wrought upon children and the State by the gross indifference shown by so many parents.

I am glad to say that the magistrate committed the elder boy to an industrial school till sixteen, so that an indulgent State will take on itself the trouble and expense that worthless parents ought to have taken and have borne. But the younger was sent back to them to graduate still further in crime.

Surely it is a lesser evil to hurt the body of a child than to blast its mind and destroy its character. But some parents are not only indifferent to what becomes of their children, but will also take some pains to get rid of them; and they know how to do it, for the State has taught them that not only can they neglect their children with impunity, but also that, if they neglect them sufficiently, their children will be taken from them, and housed, clothed, fed and taught without a penny of expense to them. True, it is sometimes a long process, but if they persevere it comes to pass in the end.

But some seek to hasten this consummation by giving their children into custody, and charging them with being ‘beyond control,’ in the hope that the magistrate will relieve them of their responsibilities. Should this fail, I have known such parents leave money about for a boy to steal that he might be charged with theft. I know one father who left a sovereign ostentatiously lying about for a boy to take. He did take it, spent it, and was charged. To the father’s intense disgust and dismay, the magistrate refused to punish the boy or commit him to a reformatory—nay, he went beyond that, for he insisted on taking the father’s recognizances for the boy’s good behaviour. This was just and wise; but the father was not pleased, for he had lost his sovereign and kept his boy, and I am afraid the lad did not have a good time of it.