have let the outer light in for the last eighteen years, when they were first appointed by Lord Cross after Lord Kimberley's Commission.

As there never have been any mysteries to reveal, no great or striking exposé followed these appointments, which may account for their existence being forgotten, but they have furnished useful independent tribunals when clamorous assertions have been made as to the ill treatment of prisoners. The change now made will give them powers of punishment, and so will relieve the Directors of a duty they will no doubt gladly relinquish. But even in this the change is not an entire novelty, for under the Penal Servitude Act of 1864, power— which was, however, never exercised—was given to the Secretary of State to appoint persons to exercise some of these powers. Twenty years ago, when we had upwards of 10,000 convicts in fourteen prisons in England, some in very isolated positions, it might have been difficult to find local magistrates to attend regularly at all these prisons, and do the work required of them efficiently, for it must be understood that the whole of the discipline of these important establishments may depend on those who exercise these powers, and this discipline is far more difficult to maintain among large bodies of prisoners working in association, of whom some are very able and very mischievous and turbulent, than it is in a local prison where every prisoner ordinarily passes his time in a separate cell. Times are changed, however, and the experiment is worth trying; there are only five convict prisons and only 3,500 convict prisoners, a large part being more or less invalids or incapable of hard labour-they certainly are not so difficult to manage as they used to be--I don't think there has been an organised mutiny for more than thirty years. It should be remembered that this measure certainly will result in practically putting more power into the governor's hands, and it is possible that difficulties may arise from there being two independent authorities, the directors and the visitors both exercising powers of punishment for prison offences.

The clause (1) by which inspectors may be delegated to do for the directors of convict prisons the same duties as they do for local prisons is a useful change, and like the foregoing will relieve the Board of some of their present duties. There are some prison reformers who advocate the entirely impracticable view that the inspectors, instead of being as they are under the Act of 1877 assistants to the Commissioners, by whose agency they can keep themselves informed of the condition of the prisons and the conduct of officers, should be direct agents of the Secretary of State to keep an eye on the proceedings of the commissioners and directors. This proposal seems to contemplate the Secretary of State appointing as commissioners and directors persons he cannot trust to execute his orders or to give him honest information, and that to remedy this error he appoints other persons whom he can trust to look after them.

The idea finds no parallel in any practical organisation for the conduct of business, public or private, nor is it likely to find any countenance in any Bill framed by a practical statesman.

I do not expect that any change in the prison system under the present criminal law will produce any remarkable improvement over our existing system in the repression of crime, which undeniably has greatly decreased concurrently at all events with the present system. But, as I have already suggested, the power of making rules conferred on the Secretary of State by this Bill might conceivably, if some illadvised theorist should prevail with some future Secretary of State, undo much of what previous generations of reformers have effected.

It is to the care and proper bringing up of the young that we must look for further advance in the effort to uproot crime by instilling proper principles into them at a time of life when habits and tones of thoughts are established. The Reformatory and Industrial School Acts of 1866 are probably the chief among the causes which have led to the decrease of crime; but it is admitted that they are now susceptible of great improvements, for which the evidence furnished by Lord Aberdare's Commission and Sir Godfrey Lushington's Committee ought to furnish guidance. It is admitted that their management is very unequal; and though it is not a case in which it is at all desirable to require uniformity of practice, the standard of efficiency of many of them might with advantage be raised. The measures which have recently been taken for more entirely separating juveniles under sixteen years old in prison, under sentence of a month or over, from adults, are of course in the right direction, though the total number who can come under these conditions is very small and their stay in prison very short. The difference it makes in the former practice has probably been exaggerated by those who do not remember that as every prisoner occupies a separate cell, and as juveniles have for many years been kept in a separate part of the prison and treated apart from other prisoners, there have been no grounds for supposing they were contaminated by intercourse with adult prisoners. The greatest number whom the new rule admits of being collected together appears by the last report to be seven, and as these would in any case have been kept apart from adults in company with those who have less than a month's sentence, the change is practically a very small one.

The truth is that most of these juveniles ought not to be in prison at all; and small as their number now is, it would be smaller if some of the judicial authorities exercised greater discretion than they do.

The great step which might be made in this matter would be to extend the reformatory system, so that certain young people over sixteen years of age could be kept for longer periods than the usual sentence of imprisonment in a separate establishment, in order that they might be for a sufficient time kept away from their bad habits

and bad associations, and subjected to reformatory influences, but without neglecting the elements of deterrence in due measure. It would not be desirable to add these older youths to the population of the reformatories in which the juveniles are confined. It is just between sixteen and twenty-one or twenty-two that the larrikin and the half-developed young criminal is most mischievous and most likely to exercise an evil influence on those who are a little younger, so that a complete separation between these classes is desirable, because in a reformatory there must necessarily be a great deal of association, which there should not be in a prison. A special establishment should therefore be created for them. The uninhabited convict prison at Dover is ready to hand, and would serve excellently for this purpose. The adjoining farmland, not at present very profitable, would furnish a great deal of useful occupation; and a good deal of mechanical employment in workshops, by which the inmates could be trained to various useful trades, could be furnished in connection with the construction of the proposed breakwater, to help in which the prison was originally erected. The convict prison at Borstal might also very well be vacated and turned into a reformatory for the older youths. A measure such as this would, I venture to think, constitute legitimate progress; for it would be developing a system which has been successful, and not upsetting it as some would do with our prison system.

E. F. DU CANE.

3 I

VOL. XLIII-No. 255

E. MEISSONIER

PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS AND ANECDOTES

MEISSONIER, the celebrated French artist, is such a well-known figure, his works, reproduced by engravings, are so wide spread throughout the whole world, that it seems to me as if his name alone were sufficient to recall his image. A little man, with a thickset and powerful frame, a head of the type of Michael Angelo, a flowing beard like that of a river god, and short thick hair that hides a narrow forehead, one hand supporting a pensive brow, while in the other he holds an immense palette worthy of a giant's thumb, and robed from head to foot in a blood red Arab garment-such is the portrait he has left of himself in three pictures, and thus he is represented by Antoine Mercié, the great sculptor who has carved his image in marble, and thus immortalised his features on the façade of the Gallery of Apollo of the Louvre, in the gardens of the Infanta.

As a man he liked to create an impression, loved show and display, and thirsted for fame and distinction; nevertheless he strove more to deserve these than merely to seek for them, and honours came to him as to the most worthy. Correct in all things, he had a natural love of retirement, and led a secluded life in the country, at his lovely residence the Abbey of Poissy, and even after he became famous and wealthy, and had built the handsome mansion, Place Malesherbes of which the memory alone survives-his house was barred from intruders, his life given up to incessant work, and his doors opened only to true friends, chosen among the greatest and most worthy.

Of all the celebrated modern painters of Europe, most of whom I have been personally acquainted with, Meissonier's personality stands out as the most curious and interesting in regard to painting, both on account of his particular method and process of work, and because of his wonderful power, conscientiousness, and respect for his Art.

The man himself was extremely picturesque and living, his physiognomy and character invite study, and his life is full of anecdotes.

Meissonier was born at Grenoble in 1815, and was the son of wellto-do tradespeople, who were, however, ruined by the Revolution of 1830. M. Gréard, the Provost of the University of Paris, who was a confidant of the family, has quoted from the class books of the Institution Petit of the rue de Jouy, where the boy was at school, the following memorandum, dated the 14th of June 1823 - Ernest has a decided taste for drawing, the mere sight of an engraving will make him neglect his lessons.' The child was then only eight years old, but he already felt that he was a painter; however, after his family were ruined, the future painter of the 'Campaign of France' became a chemist's apprentice in the rue des Lombards, Maison Menier, where he was employed in tying up parcels and preparing plaisters. At night he would stealthily draw; his father knew this and strove, but in vain, to combat this tendency; one day, however, his son boldly proposed the following compact: his father was to give him twelve pounds, and he, Ernest, would start for Naples, and take up painting as a profession, giving his word never to ask for a farthing more from his family, so certain did he feel of success. The father hesitated but did not yield; he consented, however, to grant his son a short delay, in which he might find a master and a studio. If he succeeded he would then be at liberty to go where his instinct called him, and should have an allowance of fivepence a day, with the family dinner on Wednesdays. Meissonier, nothing daunted, at once accepted his father's proposal; the first studio he went to was that of Paul Delaroche, at that time held in high repute, but into which no one was admitted without payment. From there he went to a certain Pottier, a worthy man of little talent, who as soon as he heard the young man's plans for his future career said to him, 'I am dying of hunger, better be a cobbler than a painter!' However, when at a second interview the young man showed Pottier a composition he had designed but not dared to show the first time, the painter, struck with admiration, not only took the sketch to Léon Coignet, the master under whom Bonnat and many other artists of our day have studied, but actually paid out of his own pocket in advance the price of several months' tuition. Meissonier was at that time about seventeen years old, and was beginning a period of severe hardship, although he never underwent the pangs of hunger like so many other struggling artists, such as poor François Millet, for instance, endured. His pencil saved him from this, for he illustrated magazines, drew headings for chapters, and, when he was able, painted small pictures. In 1834 he sent up to the Annual Salon and obtained admittance for his first painting, 'Une visite chez le bourgmestre' (the visitors). During twenty years I had this small painting under my eyes, Sir Richard Wallace having purchased it in 1872, in order to place it as a companion picture to one of the finest works of the master in the Hertford collection. The Société des Amis des