convicted of aggravated bronchitis last year: and I find that though you are now only twenty-three years old, you have been imprisoned on no less than fourteen occasions for illnesses of a more or less hateful character; in fact, it is not too much to say that you have spent the greater part of your life in a jail.

“It is all very well for you to say that you came of unhealthy parents, and had a severe accident in your childhood which permanently undermined your constitution; excuses such as these are the ordinary refuge of the criminal; but they cannot for one moment be listened to by the ear of justice.  I am not here to enter upon curious metaphysical questions as to the origin of this or that—questions to which there would be no end were their introduction once tolerated, and which would result in throwing the only guilt on the primordial cell, or perhaps even on the elementary gases.  There is no question of how you came to be wicked, but only this—namely, are you wicked or not?  This has been decided in the affirmative, neither can I hesitate for a single moment to say that it has been decided justly.  You are a bad and dangerous person, and stand

branded in the eyes of your fellow-countrymen with one of the most heinous known offences.

“It is not my business to justify the law: the law may in some cases have its inevitable hardships, and I may feel regret at times that I have not the option of passing a less severe sentence than I am compelled to do.  But yours is no such case; on the contrary, had not the capital punishment for consumption been abolished, I should certainly inflict it now.

“It is intolerable that an example of such terrible enormity should be allowed to go at large unpunished.  Your presence in the society of respectable people would lead the less able-bodied to think more lightly of all forms of illness; neither can it be permitted that you should have the chance of corrupting unborn beings who might hereafter pester you.  The unborn must not be allowed to come near you: and this not so much for their protection (for they are our natural enemies), as for our own; for since they will not be utterly gainsaid, it must be seen to that they shall be quartered upon those who are least likely to corrupt them.

“But independently of this consideration, and independently of the physical guilt which attaches itself to a crime so great as yours, there is yet another reason why we should be unable to show you mercy, even if we are inclined to do so.  I refer to the existence of a class of men who lie hidden among us, and who are called physicians.  Were the severity of the law or the current feeling of the country to be relaxed never so slightly, these abandoned persons, who are now compelled to practise secretly, and who can be consulted only at the greatest risk, would become frequent visitors in every household; their organisation and

their intimate acquaintance with all family secrets would give them a power, both social and political, which nothing could resist.  The head of the household would become subordinate to the family doctor, who would interfere between man and wife, between master and servant, until the doctors should be the only depositaries of power in the nation, and have all that we hold precious at their mercy.  A time of universal dephysicalisation would ensue; medicine-vendors of all kinds would abound in our streets and advertise in all our newspapers.  There is one remedy for this, and one only.  It is that which the laws of this country have long received and acted upon, and consists in the sternest repression of all diseases whatsoever, as soon as their existence is made manifest to the eye of the law.  Would that that eye were far more piercing than it is.

“But I will enlarge no further upon things that are themselves so obvious.  You may say that it is not your fault.  The answer is ready enough at hand, and it amounts to this—that if you had been born of healthy and well-to-do parents, and been well taken care of when you were a child, you would never have offended against the laws of your country, nor found yourself in your present disgraceful position.  If you tell me that you had no hand in your parentage and education, and that it is therefore unjust to lay these things to your charge, I answer that whether your being in a consumption is your fault or no, it is a fault in you, and it is my duty to see that against such faults as this the commonwealth shall be protected.  You may say that it is your misfortune to be criminal; I answer that it is your crime to be unfortunate.

“I do not hesitate therefore to sentence you to imprisonment,

with hard labour, for the rest of your miserable existence.  During that period I would earnestly entreat you to repent of these wrongs you have done already, and to entirely reform the constitution of your whole body.  I entertain but little hope that you will pay attention to my advice; you are already far too abandoned.  Did it rest with myself, I should add nothing in mitigation of the sentence which I have passed, but it is the merciful provision of the law that even the most hardened criminal shall be allowed some one of the three official remedies, which is to be prescribed at the time of his conviction.  I shall therefore order that you receive two tablespoonfuls of castor-oil daily, until the pleasure of the court be further known.”

When the sentence was concluded, the prisoner acknowledged in a few scarcely audible words that he was justly punished, and that he had had a fair trial.  He was then removed to the prison from which he was never to return.  There was a second attempt at applause when the judge had finished speaking, but as before it was at once repressed; and though the feeling of the court was strongly against the prisoner, there was no show of any violence against him, if one may except a little hooting from the bystanders when he was being removed in the prisoners’ van.  Indeed, nothing struck me more during my whole sojourn in the country, than the general respect for law and order.

MALCONTENTS.  (part of chapter xii. of erewhon.)

I write with great diffidence, but it seems to me that there is no unfairness in punishing people for their misfortunes, or rewarding them for their sheer good luck: it is the normal condition of human life that this should be done, and no right-minded person will complain at being subjected to the common treatment.  There is no alternative open to us.  It is idle to say that men are not responsible for their misfortunes.  What is responsibility?  Surely to be responsible means to be liable to have to give an answer should it be demanded, and all things which live are responsible for their lives and actions should society see fit to question them through the mouth of its authorised agent.

What is the offence of a lamb that we should rear it, and tend it, and lull it into security, for the express purpose of killing it?  Its offence is the misfortune of being something which society wants to eat, and which cannot defend itself.  This is ample.  Who shall limit the right of society except society itself?  And what consideration for the individual is tolerable unless society be the gainer thereby?  Wherefore should a man be so richly rewarded for having been son to a millionaire, were it not clearly provable that

the common welfare is thus better furthered?  We cannot seriously detract from a man’s merit in having been the son of a rich father without imperilling