engrosses the attention of the individual, and ever directs his ideas to his own inner and personal relationships. Whatever may be the nature of the all-absorbing idea by which the mind becomes possessed, and however real or imaginary in its origin, a “mentally painful state" of depression, foreboding or sadness, is produced, against which the normal mental influence is found to be of little or no avail. In proportion as these states of mental pain disturb the usual relations between thought and action in the individual, or in proportion as they render him unfit for the necessary requirements of his position in life, whatever that may be, so far are they evidences of actual insanity, or of mere infirmity of mind such as we are dealing with under the term weak mindedness.

The possession which grief, anxiety, remorse, and such like influences take of anyone's mind is natural enough, so long as the person affected remains capable of offering a reasonable (if less active) response to those mental impressions from without, in accordance with which he is accustomed to regulate his conduct. But when, under given circumstances, the want of this response comes to alter the individuality, and give rise to behaviour more or less anomalous or absurd, then is there a morbid element introduced in the intense mental activity occasioned by the grief, shame, or other cause. This activity, which is limited in scope, is mostly emotional at the outset, may gain ground until some of the depressed states known as melancholy have been reached, and possibly at the expense, more or less, of reason and intelligence, which come to be involved in advanced cases.

The occasion for mental depression may be real, or it may be fanciful. If it is the latter, the indication is so much the worse, for it implies the origination of a delusive idea in the mind itself, and therefore some pre-existing disturbance of its functions. When the mental oppression supervening upon some real evil or distress goes on until a morbid state is produced, the process is similar to that wherein the mind, by persistently dwelling upon circumscribed or limited trains of thought, tends to magnify the proportions of the ideas, and to render them "fixed." In short, we have another illustration of the process connected with the growth of a delusion.

If the corrective virtue of imprisonment lies in the gloom, the solitude, and the forlornness of the prison atmosphere, it is but natural to expect that those submitted to such an influence would become gloomy, sad, and dejected, and that

altogether prison favours the morbid development of states of mental depression. This conclusion, however, is not the one to which my experience has led me, and it will be worth our while to make a brief inquiry into the bearings of the question. I have no wish, as I have no good reason, to deny that as a mere matter of sentiment prison life is all that is dismal, or to deny that a practical acquaintance with its contrasts and its restrictions is far from agreeable or inspiriting. But a condition of things is readily imaginable where, so far as general comfort and freedom from worry and anxiety go, the favourable balance would fall with imprisonment. Taking it "under the circumstances," the large majority of imprisoned criminals show a tacit contentment with their lot-compulsory, this, to some extent, as they know it is no use grumbling, and they must get "through it" the best way they can. There are many who are by no means unhappy, and who contrive to make themselves tolerably comfortable in spite of their surroundings. Indeed, one prisoner at Portland told me he had not been so happy for a long time as he then was. A wretched home and drink together resulted in his blowing up the house with gunpowder, whereby a child was killed and other inhabitants injured. He tried at the time to cut his own throat, was tried, and sentenced to death, but got a reprieve. He had been leading a fearfully miserable existence.

No doubt the Mark Tapley spirit of contentment (enforced as it in a measure is) serves to ward off ill effects to which brooding and dejection give rise; but besides this, prisoners, especially those doing penal servitude at public works, have no time to dwell on themselves, and thereby get mopish and melancholy; for if they fall away from their work they lose marks, which means forfeiture of remission and longer detention in prison.

Melancholy, which is at once the prevailing form of, and the generic term for, states of mental depression, exists among imprisoned criminals, I believe, in proportion as the imprisonment is novel and startling, and as it involves social and moral fall and disgrace, and a severance from domestic comfort and happiness. Hence it is that it is rather the accidental or casual criminal than the habitual criminal who is liable to become despondent and melancholy. The convict who is torn from his family and friends for the first time for forgery, or other breach of trust, is unaccustomed to the wretched associations of prison life, and his unblunted

sensitiveness lends additional acuteness to the sense of degradation. He becomes a prey to his own imaginings, and there is a risk of healthy mental action becoming more or less swamped by a consciousness of guilt, a sense of shame, and a feeling of remorse.

The habitual criminal has become blunted to the operation of such influences as these, and he is not likely to give way to "dull care."

The earlier months of imprisonment (penal servitude) are more liable to induce depression of spirits for two reasons. The first is that the criminal has then the most vivid realisation of his change of circumstances, and this is possibly made more powerful by a sort of reaction from mental excitement produced in the course of trial regarding his chances of · conviction, and by his hope of acquittal. The second reason lies in the fact that the first nine months of penal servitude consists (for reformatory purposes) of separate confinement, which is the most monotonous part of his sentence, and during which his thoughts are kept in a state of special tension by being actively engaged and concentrated upon self. We saw, when speaking of weak mindedness in relation to prison discipline, that during the earlier or separate confinement stage, mental depression was the most frequent cause for relaxation of the discipline, yet its relative frequency during this short period of special discipline is not sufficient to negative my opinion as to the absolute infrequency of states of mental depression among criminals doing penal servitude, especially if we take the whole term of imprisonment into account.

The character of the melancholy is usually simple; general mental apathy with, as it were, pain in one spot: and the body sympathises with the inertia. The patient cannot be roused to take an interest in his surroundings, or to follow out advice which would further his true self-interest. He is full of self-accusation, and ever harping upon the ruin and destitution he has brought upon himself and family, or upon the hardness of his lot. Such as these, whose notions are built up on actual circumstances, do not, I think, often go on to a state of positive insanity, although they may require a temporary suspension of discipline. Where the intellectual centres are touched, and where some delusion appears, the cases are apt to give much more trouble, by becoming irritable, suspicious, and determined. Under these circumstances the patient refuses food without assigning any

particular reason beyond that he "doesn't want it," or else on the ground that it is poisoned or drugged. The presence of an ultra-religious vein of thought is by no means uncommon. The patient has a "mission," or a "power" has been given to him from on high. He feels himself to be pervaded by some abstract essence of good, and that his pulses throb with a mysterious potentiality which is denied to other men. They have a remarkable readiness in explaining or adapting passages of Scripture, according to their fancy for the moment, finding in those passages the irrefragable proof of their assertions regarding themselves or others. The graver cases of religious melancholy in criminals would appear, as Mr. Gover has suggested to me, to be secondary, and consequent upon a pre-existing stage of mania or excitement rather than the mere advanced development of slighter cases of melancholy and depression. In some of the slighter cases of weakmindedness, where religious notions prevail, it will be found that although the individual is wrapped up in himself, he is usually calm and quiet, and resigned, but has alternations of tearful depression and exaltation from time to time.

How far does mental depression among convicts lead on to suicide? By far the largest proportion of suicidal attempts are feigned for the purpose of exciting sympathy, or as part of a scheme of simulated insanity. There is also a certain proportion of what may be called frivolous attempts. These are made in moments of vexation and disappointment and depression, and possess a certain amount of reality-reality, perhaps, of wish (that they could detach themselves from their misery), but not reality of intention (in the preparations they make). The attempts are not determined ones. The actual number of suicides among convicts cannot be said to be large, taking all the circumstances into account. I found* that during the 15 years ending with 1870, 23 male convicts committed suicide out of an average annual population of 6,419; and in the same period only one female out of an average population of 1,132. I think it could be shown, judging from my own recollections, that foreigners, especially if they are ignorant of our language, would show a proportionately high ratio of mental depression with or without suicidal tendency. Thus, two Chinamen in 1855 tried to hang themselves in their cells at Pentonville. At the same prison in 1859, an Italian is reported by the medical officer as having

*See a Paper on the Mortality among Prisoners, Brit. and For. Med. Chirl. Review for July, 1872.

threatened suicide, and for some days refused food with a view of starving himself; and a Welshman "of low intellect, and ignorant of English, became sullen and depressed," and required a modified discipline. At Millbank, in 1856, a sullen and savage Portuguese succeeded in hanging himself. While I was Assistant Surgeon at Woking, a Frenchman nearly succeeded in putting an end to his life by hanging, in a fit of moodiness; and I have known a good many other foreigners to be overtaken by sadness and misery in consequence of their imprisonment. There may be something nostalgic mixed up in the feelings of depression in these

cases.

I have said that, taking the whole period of penal servitude, my impression is that depression is not in itself a form of mental disturbance which in prisoners requires frequent interference on the part of the medical officer. But I would point out, what I believe to be the case, that mental depression may be, and is, the preliminary subjective experience of a good many prisoners, whose ultimate weakmindedness manifests itself in some other form, most probably in some of those conditions of exaltation which we shall have to consider. It may be that one might overlook a certain amount of dejection in a few prisoners, as only what one would expect, and therefore not requiring special notice in individuals; and for the same reasons prisoners who may, in fact, be low spirited, are not brought to the doctor's notice unless their condition seems to require it. It will readily be understood how a melancholy train of ideas intensifies itself, and works itself up (in the presence of an irksome discipline) through a channel of exaggeration (and even delusion), until a turbulent and excited phase of mind is reached, giving rise to noisy and violent conduct. When this happens, and the prisoner is brought before the medical officer, an intelligent warder will tell us that he has observed the prisoner for some time back to be peculiar in his manner, and that he has seen him crying repeatedly.

I come by chance upon the following case in the Convict Prison Blue Book for 1852 (p. 34), of a convict, W. Kelly, who had been a soldier, and sentenced to seven years' transportation for offering violence to his superior officer. He had been a drunkard. On the 17th January, says Mr. Bradley, the medical officer, "He was observed to be depressed in spirits. He stated that his sister had arrived from Ireland, and having failed to obtain permission to see him was