When the mother's work is ill done, or, as is but too often the case, totally neglected, of what avail are the labors of the professor, but to make a bad man intellectually strong and more capable for the accomplishment of his evil designs? Who can predict the safety of the noblest structure if superimposed on a false or insecure foundation? Knowledge is a power equally available for good or evil purposes, according to the direction given by the moral force that applies it. May the Almighty disposer of events teach us even at this late day to learn wisdom from the experience of the past. If, for example, a single volume were prepared and placed among the closing studies of the course in girls' schools, embracing instructions in the duties of woman—as mistress of the family, as the wife, the mother, whose highest faculties are requisite in the early training of children—and if the whole were placed in so attractive a garb as to win their love and admiration for these womanly duties and perfections, might we not hope that many young and guileless minds would be gained from the mazes of folly ever ready to obscure their true instincts and affections? Craving pardon for this digression, we proceed to the primary object of this article.
A VISIT TO THE AGRICULTURAL AND REFORMATORY COLONY OF METTRAY, NEAR THE CITY OF TOURS, FRANCE.
This admirable institution, which has received the highest stamp of public approbation in the form of more than eighty kindred institutions that have adopted its rules and practice as their models, in France, Belgium, and other countries, was founded about thirty years since, by the venerable M. Demetz, at that time a distinguished magistrate, in union with a saintly man[280] whose honored remains repose in the neighboring cemetery. M. Demetz still lives to bless and guide this noble monument of his early wisdom and beneficence.
In the midst of a beautiful and highly cultivated rural district, the pretty village of Mettray is built in the form of a spacious hollow square, and consists of some twenty or thirty detached cottages of brick, symmetrically placed on two opposite sides of the quadrangle, each having pendent roofs to protect the walls. A circular basin of running water occupies the centre, and the open space is planted with fine shade-trees. Between each of the cottages there is a gallery about thirty feet wide, and roofed to protect from rain the plays of the inmates of the adjoining cottages. All are white and of two stories, chiefly covered with climbing vines and flowers.
The entrance is on the side opposite the fine church, which, with the school-house and grounds, fills that portion of the spacious quadrangle. On entering, between two houses of larger dimensions, (one being appropriated to the use of the director, the other to the normal school, in which the future teachers of Mettray are trained in their work,) the visitor is a little startled at the view of a large ship with all its spars and rigging, moored in the solid earth. This is intended for the instruction of boys who manifest a taste for the sea. The view of the whole is most pleasing. Every cottage bears an inscription on its front, which on inspection makes known the interesting fact that each building is the donation of the individual lady or gentleman whose name is inscribed thereon, or of some benevolent association. Thus the expenses of building, usually so great as in many instances to render such a foundation hopeless, are here readily and piously assumed by various benefactors. The manifest advantages of these separate buildings, each adapted for the occupation of some thirty to thirty-five boys, will appear in the sequel. In the architecture,[281] all is of the simplest kind; for it is thought best not to awaken luxurious tastes or habits among a class destined to earn their living by the sweat of their brow. The boys are not crowded together in large masses, but enjoy a free and open circulation of air, conducive to health and energy; and the inmates of each cottage are under the permanent government of a director and sub-director, who are regarded as the fathers of the household, and live with them, eating, sleeping, etc., in the same house, and to whom the boys become devotedly attached, and they thus enjoy, so far as it is possible, the blessing of the family relations. Sisters also are there, in their separate apartments adjacent to the church, prepared to nurse the sick in the infirmary, and to give their invaluable influences and aid, especially to the little ones, on every proper occasion.
The village is adapted to receive seven hundred boys,[282] from seven or eight years of age and upward. The "colony," as it is termed, is chiefly agricultural, but many of the children, from various causes, being better adapted to indoor employments, are applied to trades, and in winter, when the farm work is interrupted, all the boys are employed in the shops, to acquire the art of manufacturing their own tools. In these shops, where, as we have said, the boys are permanently associated in separate families, they are taught to be tailors, shoemakers, carpenters, blacksmiths, agricultural instrument manufacturers—in short, any or every trade that may be made useful or profitable.
In the rear of the village are the farm buildings, the stables, cow-houses, etc. etc., with the gymnasium and a small pond of running water for bathing and swimming. Further on is the cemetery, with its alleys of cypress and well-kept gardens, (for gardening is a prominent branch of industry here;) and we may well imagine that nothing is neglected to beautify the surroundings of the honored tomb of their first benefactor, and of the lowly graves of the departed who were once their companions. Flowers—beautiful flowers—are strewed everywhere, and with their fragrance seem to hallow the sacred place.
Neither walls nor ditches nor any means of restraint or confinement are resorted to for the compulsory seclusion of these seven hundred juvenile culprits, who have all been adjudged as fit subjects for this penitentiary; yet escape is so rare as to be almost unknown. As we entered the square, the boys, ranging from seven or eight to twenty years of age, were enjoying their midday recreations—leaping, playing, laughing, or shouting at their pleasure. Within a few minutes, at the sound of a clarionet, their sports suddenly ceased, and a moment later, at a second call, they separated, each to join his "family" at its allotted ground, to prepare to march; and then a lively quick-step was heard. This was the signal of the band, composed of their comrades most expert in music, who had meantime taken their post near the centre of the square, at which the various groups, joined by their two directors, filed off cheerily, each to its home. The musicians then laid aside their instruments and hastened after their companions. They partake of their frugal but wholesome and cheerful meals in the second story of their respective cottages, accompanied by their directors, and in the evening, when the last repast is ended, the tables are expertly suspended against the walls, and a single row of hammocks, which were laid aside after the same fashion before breakfast, are again placed in order for the night. The rooms are perfectly well ventilated, and there is a great gain in economy from this double arrangement. After each meal there is recreation, and the hour being past, music again recalls each family to the square, from which, to the sound of lively airs, they move off in high spirits to their various employments. Here goes a class of farmers, there are the gardeners, and further on, the carters, etc. etc., all on their way to the farm, while the lesser numbers of shoemakers, tailors, and others turn their steps in the direction of their various shops, and a goodly class wind their way to the school. Thus the children are accustomed to repair to their allotted labor as if on a holiday. Music salutes their departure, and its notes leave a joyous impression on the mind. The lower floors of the cottages are all occupied as workshops.
From this brief sketch may be inferred the regularity that prevails in the colony. Every thing is done to habituate the boys to a willing and cheerful performance of their duty. No harshness is permitted that might again chill these young hearts, that have once been abandoned to vice before they were capable of discrimination. The system of rewards is quite original, and serves its purpose admirably. For grave offences confinement in a cell is the only punishment found necessary. Lying is regarded as the worst of faults.
Within the narrow limits prescribed for this article it would be impossible to give any adequate account of an institution which, wherever it is known, is recognized as being equalled only by such others as most closely obey its spirit and maxims. Its founders have aimed, so far as possible, to restore and cultivate the family affections, prematurely shattered through vicious examples, by dividing, as we have seen, into groups this large mass of youthful humanity, and forming them into families under regulations tending to establish a sincere and lasting attachment among its members. In their respective cottages they live and work together, in the interchange of mutual kindness and regard, and are inspired with the idea that each, in a certain sense, is responsible for the good conduct, the respectability, the happiness, of his brothers. The ever-ready sympathy and motherly counsels of the sisters must not be forgotten. The directors at Mettray are, thus far, laymen; but in many other like institutions it has been found impossible to dispense with the aid of religious orders. In this country we should be obliged to have recourse to them for want of laymen possessed of the needful qualifications; for they must give their entire lives to the work.