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SECTION VII.: CHAPEL. Chapel Introduced. * - Jeremy Bentham, The Works of Jeremy Bentham, vol. 4 [1843]

Edition used:

The Works of Jeremy Bentham, published under the Superintendence of his Executor, John Bowring (Edinburgh: William Tait, 1838-1843). 11 vols. Vol. 4.

Part of: The Works of Jeremy Bentham, 11 vols.

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SECTION VII.

CHAPEL.

Chapel Introduced.*

The necessity of a chapel to a penitentiary-house, is a point rather to be assumed than argued. Under an established church of any persuasion, a system of penitence without the means of regular devotion, would be a downright solecism. If religious instruction and exercise be not necessary to the worst, and generally the most ignorant of sinners, to whom else can they be other than superfluous?

This instruction, where then shall they be placed to receive it? Nowhere better than where they are. There they are in a state of continued safe custody; and there they are without any additional expense. It remains only to place the chaplain; and where the chaplain is, there is the chapel. A speaker cannot be distinctly heard more than a very few feet behind the spot he speaks from. The congregation being placed in a circle, the situation, therefore, of the chaplain should be, not in the centre of that circle, but as near as may be to that part which is behind him, and, consequently, at the greatest distance from that part of it to which he turns his face.

But between the centre of the inspection-tower all round, and the intermediate well, there must be, at any rate, whatever use it may be put to, a very considerable space. What, then, shall be done with it? It cannot be employed as a warehouse consistently with the sanctity of its destination; nor even independently of that consideration, since, if thus filled up, it would intercept both sight and voice. Even if divine service were out of the question, it is only towards the centre that this part could be employed for stowage, without obstructing inspection as much as in the other case it would devotion; nor can it, even in that part, be so employed, without narrowing in proportion the inspector’s range, and protruding his walk to a longer and longer circuit. What, then, shall we do with this vacuity? Fill it with company, if company can be induced to come. Why not, as welt as to the Asylum, the Magdalen, and the Lock Hospital, in London? The scene would be more picturesque; the occasion not less interesting and affecting. The prospect of contributions that might be collected here as there, will bind the manager to the observance of every rule that can contribute to keep the establishment in a state of exemplary neatness and cleanliness, while the profit of them will pay him for the expense and trouble. Building, furniture, apparel, persons, every thing, must be kept as nice as a Dutch house. The smallest degree of ill scent would be fatal to this part of his enterprise. To give it success, prejudices indeed would be to be surmounted; but by experience—continued and uninterrupted experience—even prejudice may be overcome.

The affluence of visitors, while it secured cleanliness, and its concomitants healthiness and good order, would keep up a system of gratuitous inspection, capable of itself of awing the keeper into good conduct, even if he were not paid for it: and the opposite impulses of hope and fear would thus contribute to ensure perfection to the management, and keep the conduct of the manager wound up to the highest pitch of duty. Add to this the benefit of the example, and of the comments that would be made on it by learned and religious lips: these seeds of virtue, instead of being buried in obscurity, as in other improved prisons, would thus be disseminated far and wide.

Whatever profit, if any, the contractor could make out of this part of the plan, why grudge it him? why to his establishment, more than to any of those just mentioned? Not a penny of it but would be a bounty upon good management, and a security against abuse.

If the furniture and decoration of the chapel would require some expense, though very little decoration would be requisite, a saving, on the other hand, results from the degree of openness which such a destination suggested and rendered necessary. On the original plan, the whole circuit of the central part, then appropriated solely to inspection, was to have been filled with glass: on the present plan, which lays this part open in different places, to the amount of at least half its height, that expensive material is proportionably saved.

On the present plan, it will be observed, that three stories of cells only, viz. the second, third, and fifth from the top, enjoy an uninterrupted view of the minister.* That the inhabitants of the other stories of cells may have participation of the same benefit, it will be necessary they should be introduced, for the occasion, into or in front of such of the cells as are in a situation to enjoy it. This might be effected, and that with the greatest ease, were the whole establishment to receive even a double complement.

The two parties, composed of the fixed inhabitants of each cell on the one hand, and the strangers imported from a distant cell on the other, might be stationed either in one continued row in the front of the cell-galleries, or the one party in that line, and the other immediately within the cell-grating. In neither case need the law of seclusion be suffered to be infringed by converse: both parties are alike awed to silence by an invisible eye—invisible not only to the prisoners in front, but to the company behind: not only the person of each inspector, but his very station, being perfectly concealed from every station in the chapel.

[* ]The chapel, not being a characteristic part of the design, will be sufficiently understood from the draught, without any particular explanation. For the whole detail of this part, I am indebted to my professional adviser, Mr. Revely, of Great Titchfield Street, Marybone, whose beautiful and correct drawings of views in the Levant have been so much admired by the dilettanti in Grecian and Egyptian antiquities.

[]I found this by experiments made on purpose in churches. See also Saunders on Theatres.

[* ]In some impressions of the draught, the minister’s station, and, consequently, the views and want of views that result from it, are not represented: but they will readily be conceived.

[]All this may be very well, said an intelligent friend, in the way of example:—but how stands it upon the footing of reformation? Might it not have ultimately a corruptive effect upon the persons thus exhibited,—shaming them, indeed, and distressing them at first, but by degrees hardening them, and at length rendering them insensible? Would it not, in short, to this purpose, be a sort of perpetual pillory?

To this I answer—

1. That, of the two, example and reformation, example is the greatest object; and that in the proportion of the number of the yet innocent to that of the convicted guilty.

2. That the offences for which persons are subjected to this punishment are deemed of a deeper dye, and as such to require a punishment more severe than that even of those who are consigned to the pillory.

3. That at their trials there is not one of them but must have been exhibited in a manner equally public, and in circumstances reflecting a much greater measure of humiliation and shame: with this difference too, that on that occasion each person is exhibited singly, and the eyes of the whole audience are fixed upon him alone; that he is to speak as well as to hear, and stands forth in effect the sole hero of the melancholy drama: whereas, on an exhibition like that here proposed, the attention of the spectators, being divided among so many, scarcely attaches individually upon any one. Besides that upon his trial a man is held forth to view with the marks of guilt fresh upon his head: whereas at the remote period in question he does not appear till a progress more or less considerable may be presumed to have been made in the career of penitence, and the idea of guilt has been covered by expiation.

Should these answers be thought not to have disproved the mischief, nothing can be simpler than the remedy. A mask affords it at once. Guilt will thus be pilloried in the abstract, without the exposure of the guilty. With regard to the sufferer, the sting of shame will be sheathed, and with regard to the spectators, the salutary impression, instead of being weakened, will be heightened, by this imagery. The scene of devotion will be decorated by—why mince the word?—by a masquerade: a masquerade, indeed, but of what kind? not a gay and dangerous, but a serious, affecting, and instructive one. A Spanish auto-da-fe has still more in it of the theatre:—and what is the objection there? That the spectacle is light or ludicrous? No: but rather that it is too serious and too horrible.

This, it is to be noted, is the only occasion on which their eyes will have to encounter the public eye. At all other times, be their visitors ever so numerous, there will be no consciousness of being seen, consequently no ground for the insensibility which might be apprehended from the habit of such consciousness.

Where there is patience to discriminate, the worst institutions may afford a hint that may be of use. I would not turn my back upon reason and utility, though I found them in the Starchamber or the Inquisition. The authors of the latter institution, in particular, whatever enormities and absurdities may be laid to their charge, must at least be allowed to have had some knowledge of stage effect. Unjust as was their penal system in its application, and barbarous in its degree, the skill they displayed in making the most of it in point of impression, their solemn processions, their emblematic dresses, their terrific scenery, deserve rather to be admired and imitated than condemned.

Nihil ex scenâ, says Lord Bacon, speaking of procedure in the civil branch of the law: Multum ex scenâ, I will venture to say, speaking of the penal. The disagreement is but verbal: Scena, in the language of the noble philosopher, means lying: in mine, scena is but scenery. To say, Multum ex scenâ, is to say, lose no occasion of speaking to the eye. In a well-composed committee of penal law, I know not a more essential personage than the manager of a theatre.