Why should the State take without compensation the labor of these men;
and why should they, after having been imprisoned for years, be turned
out without the means of support? Would it not be far better, far
more economical, to pay these men for their labor, to lay aside their
earnings from day to day, from month to month, and from year to year--to
put this money at interest, so that when the convict is released after
five years of imprisonment he will have several hundred dollars of his
own--not merely money enough to pay his way back to the place from which
he was sent, but enough to make it possible for him to commence business
on his own account, enough to keep the wolf of crime from the door of
his heart?
Suppose the convict comes out with five hundred dollars. This would be
to most of that class a fortune. It would form a breastwork, a fortress,
behind which the man could fight temptation. This would give him food
and raiment, enable him to go to some other State or country where he
could redeem himself. If this were done, thousands of convicts would
feel under immense obligation to the Government. They would think of the
penitentiary as the place in which they were saved--in which they were
redeemed--and they would feel that the verdict of guilty rescued them
from the abyss of crime. Under these circumstances, the law would appear
beneficent, and the heart of the poor convict, instead of being filled
with malice, would overflow with gratitude. He would see the propriety
of the course pursued by the Government. He would recognize and feel and
experience the benefits of this course, and the result would be good,
not only to him, but to the nation as well.
If the convict worked for himself, he would do the best he could, and
the wares produced in the penitentiaries would not cheapen the labor of
other men.