The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1896-08-12
HELPS TO SANITY.


Those remote contingencies may also fur
nish suitable books. Though prison author
tiles passively ignore a man who is indus
trious. obedent and accomplishing. they
will strive to grant any reasonable request
which he may make. Thus il may come
about that convct.wil receive permits
sion TO burn his light after hours-after ?
p. Mon the express conditions of silence
and of drawing some rude curtain, a blan-
ket perhaps across the grated door so
mat the shadow on the wall may not
with board for desk. half stified. yet
exultant, he will write and study and in
the realms of the imag nation forget the
sights of scualor and the sounds of igno-
miny. Iron bars have never yet been
wrought which can form a cage for a free
and constant mind.
In such wise our colvict wards off phySi-
cal and mental decay, and with such
purely personal routine he might wear out
his term without exchanging a word or
recognizing face For the man who at
tends strictly to his OWE affairs is never
moleSted in prison. CoDvicts tight shy OF
reserve; they know. for one thing. that
there are awful potentialitieS OF temper be-
hind it.. But such isolation would render
him sullen, sour and selfish. Better far II
IRON nd , aversion ne comes to feel sympathy
prison voice, You are one of us; you wear
the stripes: your name is Jack" keeps him
humble and considerable.
The average convict has two heroes-the
Thoroughbred villain and the gentleman.
The one he emulates. the other he rever-
ences. He is quick to disregard aSSump-
ton and TO torment an imDostor, Tor the
latter distinction is only accorded through
be neat and cleanly. He may be dignified
and melancholy indeed, touch of sorrow
will help him. but he must continue affable
and oblging. He must refrain from slang,
from profanity, from interest in criminal
subjects for thus the difference which he
does not claim becomes manifest. He must
~,,<x h,
1dences when offered. He must be gener-
Gus and democratic in his generosity. IL
our convict does all this-that is, if he is
set apart and honored without effort.
Inmates will seek to do him a favor-to re-
leve him from some Of those things which
they argue he must mind. but which they
think nothing whatever about knowing
that if he has a match. for instance. or a
They will call him to read letters. to
write replies and to give advice, revealing
with singular candor all the weaknesses.
vices and virtues of prison life.
HUMANITY'S LESSON.
Such association is elevating to both
sides, and it's continuance depends solely
on our convict From it he learns that
there is a spark of the divine in the gross
est breast and that unfortunate parentage.
lack of education, press of circumstance
and public neglect have much to do with
the molding Of a hahtual criminal. From
it, too comes that recompense which unset
fish interest always returns. In the knowl-
edge of so much unappreciated wretched-
ness the acutenesS of his own misery
seems less of a curse.
For, though our convict endure to the
end, he can never become used TO prison
life. From first to last it must be loath-
some to his nature. or else that nature VIII
be irretrievably ruined. He cannot acquire
the average convict's insensibility to co d.
heat, foul air and filth. He cannot eat
ravenously tough and tainted meat which
eddy on a crust which has been carried for
days in the pocket He cannot look for
ward to Saturday as a red-letter day, be-
cause then he will receive chunk of mo-
lasses-stuck twigs called tobacco. He cam
not sleep at any time and under all circum-
stances. He cannot find delight in gossip.
and ambition in tales of criminal achieve
ment. He cannot look forward for months
to turkey at THANKSGIVING, nor wonder
throughout a year whether there will be
music next Fourth of July. He cannot well
come former inmate returning with a
fresh sentence as if he We're an alumnus
growing notoriety The prison is no play
house for him. 1t is a place of hardships
without honor; of incessant struggle for
the bare right of existence.
Nor, when his sentence draws to a close
can our convict view release with the un-
needing rapture of his associates. He real
ICES the blight of his conviction, the dis
trust the cold surprise. which seems to
ask. why didn't you die?'' He knows
that for him cares will be more carking
and the needs of life more difficult to gain;
that his pa<h must be on the shady side
his residence in the east end Of town And
yet, if he has kept himself unspotted from
deteriora tion-that one active prison infiu-
ence-if he has Scorned to barter his Soul
for british content he will return to those
who are near and dear to him with sober