I kept him with me a few days, and let him practise his voice, got him shaved and decently clad. I obtained good lodgings for him with excellent people close by, and they very soon learned to love and respect him. Again tools and materials for his work were provided, and I fitted up a room of my own for a workshop. His former patrons did not forget him, and work became plentiful, for many had been saving it up for him. He worked as if a fury were upon him. Every morning at eight, punctual as the clock, he rang my bell; every morning he left his lodgings with the kiss of little children on his lips; every evening he was welcomed home by them. Day by day I watched him. I saw his eyes become restful, his face became the face of a man, and ‘his flesh the flesh of a child.’ I heard his voice become human, I saw his face develop the power of smiling, and even heard organs that had long been silent and unused give forth a hearty laugh. He had to report himself regularly to the police, who treated him in a gentlemanly way, and never divulged his secret. I am indeed exceedingly glad to have this opportunity of bearing witness to the considerate manner in which released prisoners are treated by the police. I have never met with any instance of persecution. A good deal has been said about them hunting up and betraying ticket-of-leave holders and discharged prisoners generally; my experience has been exactly to the contrary. I have known numberless instances of kind actions, and even of thoughtful care, displayed by detectives and others. Again and again have such officers brought old offenders to me, asking my help on their behalf. The police have a difficult task to perform; it is their duty to be suspicious, but I know that many of them are really glad to see an old offender go straight and proper.