As between the abominable "contract" and "lease" systems and this
reversion to blind seclusion, is there no human method to be found of
apportioning the convict's labor?
Yet No. 99, locked away in his solitary cell in the Philadelphia
prison, must toil laboriously, denying his brain and hand their
cunning, with a pretense at occupation. He is not sharing in the
world's work. He knows this child's play of making something that
no one needs on an instrument left over from the twelfth century is
futile and foolish.
How shall he meet and battle with the great world of commerce and
labor after twenty years of this? In what way is this make-believe
fitting him for liberty?
Some few in the Philadelphia prison escape the fate mapped out for
them. There are 800 cells, and there are at present about 1,100
prisoners. Naturally, some must "double up." And then the regular
domestic work of the institution must be done, tasks at which it would
be impossible to keep prisoners separated or wholly silent.
And so the "silent system" is not entirely silent. But, we protest,
that is not the fault of the prison management, nor is it that of
the good citizens who seventy-eight years ago devised and built this
prison, the only one of its kind in America.
Men are unfitted for after-life under the "silent system." They come
out of prison at the end of their terms with shuffling gait and
incoherent speech and unskilled hands.
Cut off from all obligation to family or friends, the prisoner's whole
spiritual nature is bound to deteriorate. Will he be a better citizen,
a more loving father or husband or son, when he is released?
The prison at Philadelphia is a model of cleanliness, management,
discipline and sanitation. The warden, Charles C. Church, is humane
and intelligent; the guards above the average in character.
And yet Pennsylvania's crime against her criminal population is
appalling. All she does for her unfortunate offender is to guard him
securely, shelter him in cleanliness, feed and clothe him--and hold
him against the day of his release.
These are necessary things, but it is more necessary that the state
turn back the criminal at least no worse than she found him when
committed to her care.
She could turn him out a better man morally, better equipped to gain
a livelihood, in fair physical health, and certainly without mental
taint or bias due to his imprisonment.