Some confusion naturally arises from
this divided government, and it not
unfrequently happens that the police discover a
so-called "Society's man" in prison for a fresh
offence, without having received previous
intimation of anything being wrong with him.
A not unusual way of shirking both police and
society, is to go to sea. It is not necessary to
go far; Gravesend, even, has been found a
sufficiently distant port. Once on board ship, the
society reports to the police that the man has
gone to sea. No further attempts at
supervision are made, and the convict calmly resumes
his life ashore: only taking care to avoid any
part of England where he happens to be
inconveniently well known. This system is too
lax; the new Act proposes greater strictness.
A licence-holder will be liable to arrest, and
forfeiture of his licence, unless it can be shown
that he is earning his bread honestly. It is
not easy to see why this should not be so. To
liberate a convict before the expiration of his
sentence, and practically to turn him loose upon
society with no guarantee of his improvement,
appears sufficiently absurd. A licence at all is
a privilege; it is not too much to insist that it
shall be issued only to those who show
themselves worthy of it.

In the neighbourhood of Whitehall, in an
office that partakes a little of the ordinary
counting-house, and a good deal of the barrack
orderly-room, is to be found ample evidence of
the existence of a class of professed criminals.
Here, in vast numbers, methodically and neatly
arranged, are kept the papers of the
licence-holders who have been discharged into the
metropolitan district. When a man is liberated
from prison, a kind of passport is sent to the
Chief Police Office, describing his appearance,
age, and so on, and giving all particulars as to
his crime, sentence, and licence. To this criminal
biography is attached the photograph of its
hero or heroine; in fact, the register office
of licence-holders is a national portrait gallery
of criminals on the largest scale. A collection
of faces of the most ordinary street type.
The lower neighbourhoods about Drury Lane
will show hundreds of faces that might take
their places here with the greatest propriety.
The slums of Westminster and Whitechapel
might be, and to a great extent indeed are,
peopled by the brothers and sisters of these
heavy, brutish, scowling human animals. Let
us, under the auspices of the courteous
Superintendent, and assisted by his aide-de-camp,
the quick and ready sergeant, turn over the
histories of a few of these promising subjects,
and, solely from the facts recorded here,
form our own opinions as to the nature and
habits of that injured innocent, the professed
criminal.

Here is a young fellow who was convicted
in September, 1862, of house-breaking, and
sentenced to six years penal servitude. Not only
was his character so bad in prison that he was
not judged worthy of a licence, and so had to
serve his full time; but owing, as it appears, to
certain breaches of prison discipline, he was not
liberated until some days after his sentence
actually expired. At the end of October, 1868,
this gentleman was restored to his friends,
and, no doubt, immediately resumed the active
exercise of his profession. Certain it is that
he was "wanted" only four months after his
release, and early in March was sentenced to
twelve months, for robbery. It is satisfactory
to add that this sentence was accompanied by
hard labour. On all fours with this case, is
that of a horse-stealer who had a sentence of
six years, and who, after serving four and a
half, obtained a licence, and was liberated in
October last. The Discharged Prisoners' Aid
Society, whom he honoured with his patronage,
found him a troublesome customer, for we find
them very soon giving notice to the police,
that his mode of living was considered doubtful,
and that they think it better that he should
make his reports to the police. He made his
report once, but before the next was due, his
career was summarily cut short. With two
comrades—also, it is scarcely necessary to say,
convicts—he was in February apprehended for
burglary, and the judge not having much
sympathy with regular members of the profession,
sentenced them to fourteen years. Our sergeant
has no particular remark to make touching this
case, which appears to be in no way of an
extraordinary nature, except that it is curious that
the man should have given up horse-stealing and
taken to burglary. "You see, sir, they usually
stick to one school," he says, reflectively. Of
the truth of this remark we presently find
abundant evidence. Here are the papers of
one Scott, sentenced in May, 'sixty-four, to four
years for stealing what are technically known
as "fixtures." In December, 'sixty-seven, Scott,
then nineteen years of age, was liberated
on licence; and fourteen months afterwards
(having meanwhile absconded, and successfully
concealed his whereabout), was discovered at
the Surrey Sessions under an alias, on his trial
for stealing lead from the roof of a house—lead
being a "fixture." A sentence of ten years
was the result of this second raid on house
fittings. In like manner a lady, named Toole,
appears to have been utterly unable to resist
the attractions of handsome articles of dress,
inasmuch as after undergoing part of a sentence
of six years for stealing silk mantles, she
repeated the offence while a licencee and was
sentenced to ten years.

Here, we find a victim sentenced to eighteen
months, with hard labour, for larceny, within
two months of his release on licence; there,
another who incurs a penalty of ten years' penal
servitude, four months after he comes out. Here
are two culprits even more expeditious or less
lucky. John Flinn received his licence on the
6th of May. On the 27th—three weeks afterwards
—he was apprehended for burglary, and,
in due course of law, sentenced to five years.
This feat is even surpassed by John Williams,
who, only eight days after his liberation,
stole a watch and scent-bottle from a shop
window, and, ten days afterwards, was
sentenced to go back to the prison he had