The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1867-11-29


like mOurners at funeral; and slowly he begins
10 feel that the white walls of the cell have
someihing dreadful in them; that their color Is
horrible; that their smooth surface chills his
blood; that there Is one hateful corner which
torments him. Every morning when be wakes,
he hides his head beneath the coverlet, and
shudders 10 see the ghastly ceiling looking down
upon him. The blessed light of day itself peeps
in, an ugly phantom face, through the un-
cbangeable crevice which Is his prison window.
BY Glow but sure degrees, the terrors OF that
hateful corner swell until they beset bin
at all times; invade his rest, make his dreams
hideous, and his nights dreadful. Az 6rst he
took strange dislike TO II; feeling as though It
gave birth In his Drain TO something OF cores
ponding shape which ought not TO be there,
and Tacked his head with pans. Then he began
to fear IT, then to dream OF 1t, and OF men Whis-
peTing it's name and pointing to Ii. Then he
could not bear to look at it. nor yet to turn his
back upon 1t. Now 1t is every night the lurk-
ing-place of ghosti shadow; asiient some
thing, horrible to see but whether hird %, or
When he is in his cell by day, he fears
the little yard without. When he Is in the
yard he breads to re-enter the cell. When
night comes, there stands the phantom in
the corner If he have the courage to
stand in its place, and drive II out (he had
once, being desperately, IL broods upon his
bed. In the twilight, and always at the same
hour, q voice calls to him by name; as the dark
ness thickens his loom begins TO live; and even
that, his comfort, is hideous figure, Watching
him TIL daybreak.
depart from him one by one; returning sometimes
Unexpectedly, but at longer intervals and In
less alarming shapes. he has talked upon
religious matters with the gentleman who visits
him. and has read his Bible, and has written
prayer upon his slate, and hung 1t up as a
kind Of protection and an assurance OF heavenly
companionshlp. He dreams now, sometimes,
of his children or his wife; but is sure that
they are dead, or have deserted him. He
is easily moved to tears; is gentle, sub
missive, and broken spirited. Occasionally,
fhn pl6 hank
thing will revive it; even q familiar sound, or
the scent of summer flowers in the air; but It
does not last long now; for the world without
has come to be the vision, and this solitary lite
the sad reality.
If his term Of imprisonment be short-I mean
comparatively, for short 1t cannot be-the last
half-year is almost worse than all; for then he
thinks the prison will take fire, aud he be
burned in the ruins, or that he is doomed to die
within the walls, or that he will be detained on
some false charge and sentenced for another
term; or that something, no matter what, must
happen to prevent his going at large. And this
is natural, and impossible to be reasoned
against, because, after his long separation from
human life, and his great suffering, any event
will appear to him more probable in the con-
temptation than the being restored to liberty
and his fellow-creatures.
II his period OF confinement have been very
long, the prospect OF release bewilders and con-
fuses him. His broken heart may hutter for
moment when he thinks of the world outside,
and what it might have been TO him in all those
been closed too long on all its hopes and cares.
Better TO have hanged HIM in the beginning
than bring him to this pass. and send him forth
to mingle with his kind, who are his kind no
more.
On the haggard face of every man among
| these prisoners the same expression sat. know
not what to liken it to. Ii had something of
that strained attention which we see upon the
| faces of the blind and deaf mingled with kind
| of horror, as though they had all been secretly
| terrified. In every little chamber that entered,
L at 70 xuhi II lOnk I
| seemed to see theIsame appalling countenance.
| II lives in my memory, with the fascination ofa
| remarkable picture. Parade before my eyes
| hundred men,, with one among them newly
released from this solitary suffering, andI would
| point him out. f-st ~ --l''. 51..t
The faces of the women as have said, 1t
| humanizes and refnes. Whether this be be-
cause OF their better nature which is elected In
| solitude or because OF their being gentler crea-
lures, Of greater patience and longer suffering,
i do not know; but so it is. That the punish
| ment is nevertheless, to my thinking fully as
| cruel and as wrong in their case as In that OF
| the men, need scarcely add.
My firm conviction is that, indepen-
| dent of the mental anguish it occasions-an
| anguish so acute and SO tremendous that all
| Imagination OF 1t must fall far short of the
reality-it wears the mind into morbid state
which renders it unfit for the rough contact
| and busy action Of the world. It ls my fixed
| opinion that those who have undergone this
PIl Punitlhment, ,a1s MUST pass into society again
| many instances on record of men who have
| chosen or have been condemned to lives of per-
| feet solitude; but scarcely remember one,
! even among sages of strong and vigorous in
| tellect, where its effect has not become appa-
rent in some disoIdered train of thought or
| some gloomy hallucination. What monstrous
| phantoms, bred Of dependency and doubt, aud
| born and reared In solitude, have stalked upon
| the earth, making creation ugly, and darkening
! the face Of Heavenl
Suicides are rare among these prisoners; are
| almost, indeed, unknown. But no argument in
favor of the system can reasonably be deduced
from this circumstance, although II is very often
! urged. All men who have made diseases of the
mind their study, know perfectly well that such
! extreme depression and despair as wall change
| the whole character and beat down all its
powers of elasticity and self-resistance, may be
| at work within man, and yet stop short of self
| destruction.
That il makes the senses dull, and by degrees
| impairs the bodily faculties, am quite sure. l
remarked to those who were with me IN this
| very establishment at Philadelphia, that
| the criminals who had, been there long
| were deaf They, who were In the habit
| OF seeing these men constantly, were
| perfectly amazed at the idea, which
they regarded as groundless and fansiful and
/ yet the very first prisoner 10 whom they APP
| pealed-one of their own seleotion-eo frmed
/ my impression (Which was unkno wn TO him)
| instantly and saId, with q genuine air ID was
| impossible to doubt that he couldn't think how
| it happened, but he was growing very dull Of
| hearing
That it is a sipgularY unequal punishment
| and affects the worst man least, there 10 no
doubt. In its superior efficiency as means of
| reformation, compared with that other code Of
| regulations which allo VS. the prisoners to work
/ IN company without communicating together,
| have not the smAllest faith. All the instances
OF reformation that were mentioned to me were