possible from their former habits, to inspire
them with the desire of living honest lives,
and to fit them for becoming useful members
of society, in the different offices for which
they are destined. They must be six months
at least in the house before they are deemed
ready to emigrate. Some are kept longer.
They are all eager to go,––being, without
exception, sickened at the thought of recurring
to their previous habits of life. From twenty
to thirty have already been sent abroad. The
committee who superintend the establishment
are anxious to keep forty on the average in the
house throughout the year, in addition to sending
twenty each year abroad. This, however,
will require a larger fund than they have at
present at their disposal.

Such is the Institution which, for two years
past, has been silently and unostentatiously
working its own quota of good in this little-
known and pestilential region. It is designed
for the reclamation of a class on which
society turns its back. Its doors are open
alike to the convicted and the unconvicted
offender. Five-sixths of its present inmates
have been the denizens of many jails––and
some of them have only emerged from the
neighbouring Penitentiary. It is not easy to
calculate the amount of mature crime which,
in the course of a few years, it will avert
from society, by its timely rescue of the
precocious delinquent. It is thus an institution
which may appeal to the selfishness, as well
as to the benevolence, of the community for
aid: though not very generally known, it is
visited by many influential parties; and some
of the greatest ornaments of Queen Victoria's
Court have not shrunk from crossing its
threshold and contributing to its support.

Curious indeed would be the biographies
which such an institution could furnish. The
following, extracted from the Master's Record,
will serve as a specimen. The name is, for
obvious reasons, suppressed.

"John –––, 16 years of age. Admitted
June 3rd, 1848. Had slept for four months
previously under the dry arches in West-
street. Had made his livelihood for nearly
five years by picking pockets. Was twice in
jail––the last time in Tothill-Fields Prison.
The largest sum he ever stole at a time,
was a sovereign and a half. Could read
when admitted. Learnt to write and cipher.
Remained for eight months in the house.
Behaved well. Emigrated to Australia. Doing
well."

It is encouraging to know that the most
favourable accounts have been received both
of and from those who have been sent out as
emigrants, not only from this, but also from
the Pear-street School. It is now some time
since a lad, who, although only fourteen, was
taken into the latter, was sent to Australia. He
had been badly brought up; his mother, during
his boyhood, having frequently sent him out,
either to beg or to steal. About a year after
her son's departure, she called, in a state of
deep distress, upon the missionary of the
district, and informed him that her scanty
furniture was about to be seized for rent,
asking him at the same time for advice. He
told her that he had none to give her but to
go and pay the rent, at the same time handing
her a sovereign. She received it hesitatingly,
doubting, for a moment, the evidence of her
senses. She went and paid the rent, which
was eighteen shillings, and afterwards
returned with the change, which she tendered
to the missionary with her heartfelt thanks.
He told her to keep the balance, as the
sovereign was her own––informing her, at the
same time, that it had been sent her by her
son, and had that very morning so opportunely
come to hand, together with a letter, which
he afterwards read to her. The poor woman
for a moment or two looked stupified and
incredulous, after which she sank upon a chair,
and wept long and bitterly. The contrast
between her son's behaviour and her own
conduct towards him, filled, her with shame
and remorse. She is now preparing to follow
him to Australia.

Another case was that of a young man,
over twenty years of age, who had likewise
been admitted, under special circumstances,
to the same Institution. He had been
abandoned by his parents in his early youth,
and had taken to the streets to avert the
miseries of destitution. He soon became
expert in the art of picking pockets, on one
occasion depriving a person in Cornhill of no
less than a hundred and fifty pounds in Bank
notes. With this, the largest booty he had
ever made, he repaired to a house in the
neighbourhood, where stolen property was
received. Into the room into which he was
shown, a gloved hand was projected, through
an aperture in the wall, from an adjoining
room, into which he placed the notes. The
hand was then withdrawn, and immediately
afterwards projected again with twenty
sovereigns, which was the amount he received for
the notes. He immediately repaired to Westminster,
and invested ten pounds of this sum
in counterfeit money, at a house not a stone's
throw from the Institution.

For the ten pounds he received, in bad
money, what represented fifty. With this
he sallied forth into the country with the
design of passing it off–––a process known
amongst the craft as "shuffle-pitching." The
first place he went to was Northampton, and
the means he generally adopted for passing
off the base coin was this:–––Having first
buried in the neighbourhood of the town all
the good and bad money in his possession,
with the exception of a sovereign of each,
so that, if detected in passing a bad one,
no more bad money would be found upon
his person; he would enter a retail shop,
say a draper's, at a late hour of the evening,
and say that his master had sent him for
some article of small value, such as a
handkerchief. On its being shown him, he would