In determining, in any given case, whether to admit or reject an applicant, the managers of a House of Refuge would be governed, we presume, chiefly by the _character_, though in some degree by the size and physical strength of the individual, as a subject of mild, parental discipline. The question, how far a residence in the institution will be likely to bring about his radical reformation and the establishment of good habits has the first place; and another, and scarcely less important question would be, what influence will his admission have on others? If he is perverse and stubborn, and at the same time overgrown in size, so as require a disproportionate measure of care and vigilance, (in which case other and more hopeful subjects must be, to an equal extent, neglected,) his admission would seem inexpedient. Provision exists, or should be made for such an one elsewhere. So, also, if one is presented, deformed in body, deficient in mind, or of sickly constitution, and not likely to succeed in acquiring the knowledge of a trade, or unfitted to bear the proper discipline, he has higher claims on some other form of public charity. A House of Refuge is not meant for him, nor is it likely to benefit him. An institution designed to keep boys and girls in due order and subordination, ought to be able to dispense with some of the more revolting appendages of a prison--such as unscaleable walls--narrow stone cells--and massive bars and bolts. We admit that all these are necessary the moment it receives a sturdy, hardened, hackneyed rogue of eighteen, sixteen or even fourteen; but it is a pity to force upon the whole establishment the gloomy appearance of a prison, rather than reject half a dozen youth of extra age and size, whom parents or friends naturally feel disposed to save from a felon’s doom.