nsane; of these 27 were
removed to the criminal asylum at Parkhurst, 2 to Broadmoor asylum, 3 to
county or borough asylums, and 3 remained in the prison infirmary at the
end of the year.

"The average length of the last sentences for which these unfortunates
were committed was seven years' penal servitude each. That their mental
condition was not temporary but permanent may be gathered from their
educational attainments, for 12 had no education at all, 18 were only in
Standard I, 29 in Standard II, 15 in Standard III, and 12 others were of
poor education."

The statement that the average length of the last sentences of these
unfortunates was seven years' penal servitude is appalling. It ought to
astound us! But no one seems to care. Penal servitude is good enough
for them. Perhaps it is! But it ought to be called by another name,
and legally signify the inmates to be "patients," not criminals. Let us
visit a prison where we shall find a sufficient number of prisoners to
enable us to form an idea as to their physical and mental condition.

Come, then, on Sunday morning into a famous prison that long stood as a
model to the world. We are going to morning service, when we shall have
an opportunity of seeing face to face eight hundred male prisoners. But
before we enter the chapel, let us walk round the hospital and see those
who are on the sick list.

One look as we enter the ward convinced us that some are lying there
whose only chance of freedom is through the gates of death.

In yonder corner lies a young man of twenty-one years; the governor
tells us that he is friendless, homeless, and a hopeless consumptive. He
says, "We would have sent him out, but he has nowhere to go, for he
does not know his parish, so he must lie here till he dies, unless his
sentence expires first."

We speak to the young man a few kindly words, but he turns his face from
us, and of his history we learn nothing.

On another bed we find an old man whose days also will be short; of
his history we learn much, for he has spent a great deal of his life in
prison, and now, aged, feeble and broken, there is nothing before him
but death or continued imprisonment. We pass by other beds on which
prisoners not so hopeless in health are lying. We see what is the matter
with most of them: they are not strong enough for ordinary prison work,
or indeed for any kind of vigorous labour. So they remain in prison well
tended in the hospital. But some of t