Part 2 — REFORMATORIES FOR BOYS.—METTRAY.

It needs but a slight glance at the condition of things around us to discover, as a consequence of the criminal and most deplorable neglect of the moral education of a large proportion of our children, that if they be not already on the broad road to ruin, they give, at least, little hope of becoming useful members of society. This remark is intended chiefly, but not exclusively, for boys, whose constantly increasing lawlessness, connected with the steady growth of crime among us, cannot fail to awaken the most serious apprehensions in the mind of every attentive observer of passing events, while nothing adequate to the emergency is offered to check this growing evil; yet on the children of the present generation are based our hopes for the future of our country. Every one knows with what facility these young, fresh minds may be guided toward what is truly good; for, though the tendency of our human nature to the descending scale in morals as well as in physics is sufficiently evident, the one may be counteracted with almost as much certainty as the other, if judicious measures be early taken to give them a right direction. The writer has had much experience in the domestic training of boys, and yields the heartiest adhesion to the precept, "Train up a child in the way he should go; and when he is old, he will not depart from it." This training, however, is not by means of pampering animal appetites or self-will, but by inculcation of strict though gentle laws of obedience and self-denial. These habits once acquired, a solid basis is laid for good principles and conduct, and these can, I venture to say, always be fairly established within the first ten years of life, which have been justly pronounced the most important period of human existence, for they contain the germ from which the future character is formed. A profound thinker remarks, that "in the education of the family is concentrated the strength of the nation;" an observation which may well be applied to these United States, where the moral character of every individual, through our system of universal suffrage, assumes a certain weight, and thus, to a greater or less extent, influences the best interests of the whole country. We may here be permitted, in view of the immense importance of this education of early childhood, to suggest a hint of a strange inconsistency which is scarcely ever noticed in the systems of education adopted to prepare the fathers and mothers of our posterity for their respective callings. Everywhere, even where moral influences are neglected, means are provided for the preparation of boys for their career in life; yet, notwithstanding the multitudinous volumes of philanthropy expended upon "woman's sphere," "her rights," etc., etc., we have scarcely heard of a single well-directed effort, beyond the chances of the domestic circle, to educate young women in the supreme, the inexpressibly momentous knowledge of the vocation that must surely be the lot of nearly every one of them. They are destined to be mothers—to train up tender minds for time and for eternity! To them is confided the most precious of our earthly treasures; for what is untold gold but dust in comparison with the well-being of our children? Why are they not imbued with the most profound respect for the dignity of motherhood, as well as instructed conscientiously in its practical duties and responsibilities?

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.

The success achieved by this institution during its thirty years' existence in the entire reformation of the youths subjected to its wise and wholesome discipline, is unexampled. The statistical tables of France, unsurpassed in exactness, inform us that an average of 96.81% of the youth brought up at Mettray are restored to society, thoroughly reformed, and continue to fulfil their parts in life as useful citizens. They are usually detained in the colony to the age of twenty-one, when suitable situations having been provided, according to the trade of each, they are allowed to depart. Still, a sort of guardianship is maintained for years over those within reach; and the young men who find employment among the neighboring farmers are expected to pass the Sundays at their old home; a privilege which they relish in the highest degree. Nearly half their number engage in agricultural work. Others enter the army or navy, in both of which several have attained honorable distinction. Many are married, and present good examples in domestic life. An honorary association has been formed, which affords additional incentives to good conduct after leaving Mettray. Two years of an irreproachable life entitles each who merits it to a diploma; and this secures him a membership.

It is really difficult to do justice to this admirable institution without being suspected of exaggeration. To understand the wonder-working power of the wisdom that pervades it, that transforms the juvenile criminal into a sober-minded, industrious, and devout man, it must be seen and closely scrutinized. Christian education has taken the place of the penal code, and the boy is "trained in the way he should go," on the firm basis of religious principles of faith and practice. The general expression beaming on every countenance, of cheerful confidence, even of the gentle and affectionate temper that prevails, affords an affecting contrast to that of the newly-arrived boy, fresh from the haunts of vice. His pale and haggard looks betray evil propensities, as well as wasted health. His little heart is already filled with hatred, restrained only by the fear that he betrays, either by attempts at a hypocritical humility or an impudent daring. Years pass on, and this incipient wild beast becomes benevolent, frank, and good.

Within a few years a kindred institution has grown up, adjoining the village, but skilfully concealed from the public gaze by thick shrubbery. This is the "Paternal Home," for the reformation of the disobedient sons of families in the higher walks of life. A close white wall, behind which trees and climbing vines appear, is pierced in the centre by an equally close door. A small bell-pull is touched, and the visitor enters a pretty court laid out with flowers and shrubs. Through this the home appears at the distance of a few paces. We enter a narrow hall, furnished with simple elegance. Doors on either side lead into small rooms, containing a bed, table, book-case, etc. Engravings representing some generous or noble action adorn the walls. As the youth becomes more docile and studious, a singing bird in a cage is given him for a companion; and, finally, he is permitted to occupy two rooms. During all this period, the boy is made to understand that he is the object of the tenderest affection of his family, who inflict the greatest pain upon their own feelings in subjecting him to this temporary punishment, which is solely for his own good. Professors attend him, and continue, without interruption, the collegiate course which has been interrupted, and he has the daily benefit of fresh air on foot, or on horseback, attended by a professor.

It must be understood that this sojourn at the Paternal Home is unknown to all but the family. M. Demetz alone is made acquainted with his name.[283] To others who approach him, he is simply Mr. A——, B——, or C——. Gradually this isolation produces its effects—and the intractable spirit in this seclusion begins to meditate, to reflect, to examine himself—to condemn his former vices, and to love the studies that alleviate the weariness of solitude. Two or three months usually suffice to effect this favorable change. He finds relief in occupation, and as he carries on the course of the classes he has left, he begins to take an interest in competition. Let it not be imagined that this seclusion, though severe, is allowed to affect the health of the recluse. This would be entirely to misunderstand the parental foresight of the founder. The boys take long walks in the country, each in turn, as we have said, accompanied by a professor. They visit the neighboring farms, and sometimes enter a cottage on a visit of charity; practise gymnastics, or take lessons in fencing and when their conduct is unexceptionable, they are invited to dine with M. Demetz. If, after returning home, they are tempted to relapse into bad habits, they are sent back again, but to a more austere régime. Such is the effect produced by this system, at once tender and severe, that very often his former pupils request of M. Demetz the privilege of again passing a few days of calmness in peaceful retreat, or to finish some task that demands seclusion, at the Paternal Home. To them, the retreat where they were restored to a sense of duty is really a home of the heart, and the hand that raised them up is blessed as that of the father, who spared neither severity nor tenderness for their complete restoration. What wonder that he is the object of their devoted affection? Is there no American capable of imitating such a model?