the jacket (the star-rover)-第65节

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me　were　those　good　stout　walls　of　mine；　close　to　hand　on　every　side。

Agoraphobia　is　a　terrible　affliction。　　I　have　had　little　opportunity

to　experience　it；　but　from　that　little　I　can　only　conclude　that

hanging　is　a　far　easier　matter。　。　。　。



I　have　just　had　a　hearty　laugh。　　The　prison　doctor；　a　likable　chap；

has　just　been　in　to　have　a　yarn　with　me；　incidentally　to　proffer　me

his　good　offices　in　the　matter　of　dope。　　Of　course　I　declined　his

proposition　to　〃shoot　me〃　so　full　of　morphine　through　the　night　that

to…morrow　I　would　not　know；　when　I　marched　to　the　gallows；　whether　I

was　〃coming　or　going。〃



But　the　laugh。　　It　was　just　like　Jake　Oppenheimer。　　I　can　see　the

lean　keenness　of　the　man　as　he　strung　the　reporters　with　his

deliberate　bull　which　they　thought　involuntary。　　It　seems；　his　last

morning；　breakfast　finished；　incased　in　the　shirt　without　a　collar；

that　the　reporters；　assembled　for　his　last　word　in　his　cell；　asked

him　for　his　views　on　capital　punishment。



…　Who　says　we　have　more　than　the　slightest　veneer　of　civilization

coated　over　our　raw　savagery　when　a　group　of　living　men　can　ask　such

a　question　of　a　man　about　to　die　and　whom　they　are　to　see　die？



But　Jake　was　ever　game。　　〃Gentlemen；〃　he　said；　〃I　hope　to　live　to

see　the　day　when　capital　punishment　is　abolished。〃



I　have　lived　many　lives　through　the　long　ages。　　Man；　the　individual；

has　made　no　moral　progress　in　the　past　ten　thousand　years。　　I　affirm

this　absolutely。　　The　difference　between　an　unbroken　colt　and　the

patient　draught…horse　is　purely　a　difference　of　training。　　Training

is　the　only　moral　difference　between　the　man　of　to…day　and　the　man

of　ten　thousand　years　ago。　　Under　his　thin　skin　of　morality　which　he

has　had　polished　onto　him；　he　is　the　same　savage　that　he　was　ten

thousand　years　ago。　　Morality　is　a　social　fund；　an　accretion　through

the　painful　ages。　　The　new…born　child　will　become　a　savage　unless　it

is　trained；　polished；　by　the　abstract　morality　that　has　been　so　long

accumulating。



〃Thou　shalt　not　kill〃piffle！　　They　are　going　to　kill　me　to…morrow

morning。　　〃Thou　shalt　not　kill〃piffle！　　In　the　shipyards　of　all

civilized　countries　they　are　laying　to…day　the　keels　of　Dreadnoughts

and　of　Superdreadnoughts。　　Dear　friends；　I　who　am　about　to　die；

salute　you　with〃Piffle！〃



I　ask　you；　what　finer　morality　is　preached　to…day　than　was　preached

by　Christ；　by　Buddha；　by　Socrates　and　Plato；　by　Confucius　and

whoever　was　the　author　of　the　〃Mahabharata〃？　　Good　Lord；　fifty

thousand　years　ago；　in　our　totem…families；　our　women　were　cleaner；

our　family　and　group　relations　more　rigidly　right。



I　must　say　that　the　morality　we　practised　in　those　old　days　was　a

finer　morality　than　is　practised　to…day。　　Don't　dismiss　this　thought

hastily。　　Think　of　our　child　labour；　of　our　police　graft　and　our

political　corruption；　of　our　food　adulteration　and　of　our　slavery　of

the　daughters　of　the　poor。　　When　I　was　a　Son　of　the　Mountain　and　a

Son　of　the　Bull；　prostitution　had　no　meaning。　　We　were　clean；　I　tell

you。　　We　did　not　dream　such　depths　of　depravity。　　Yea；　so　are　all

the　lesser　animals　of　to…day　clean。　　It　required　man；　with　his

imagination；　aided　by　his　mastery　of　matter；　to　invent　the　deadly

sins。　　The　lesser　animals；　the　other　animals；　are　incapable　of　sin。



I　read　hastily　back　through　the　many　lives　of　many　times　and　many

places。　　I　have　never　known　cruelty　more　terrible；　nor　so　terrible；

as　the　cruelty　of　our　prison　system　of　to…day。　　I　have　told　you　what

I　have　endured　in　the　jacket　and　in　solitary　in　the　first　decade　of

this　twentieth　century　after　Christ。　　In　the　old　days　we　punished

drastically　and　killed　quickly。　　We　did　it　because　we　so　desired；

because　of　whim；　if　you　so　please。　　But　we　were　not　hypocrites。　　We

did　not　call　upon　press；　and　pulpit；　and　university　to　sanction　us

in　our　wilfulness　of　savagery。　　What　we　wanted　to　do　we　went　and

did；　on　our　legs　upstanding；　and　we　faced　all　reproof　and　censure　on

our　legs　upstanding；　and　did　not　hide　behind　the　skirts　of　classical

economists　and　bourgeois　philosophers；　nor　behind　the　skirts　of

subsidized　preachers；　professors；　and　editors。



Why；　goodness　me；　a　hundred　years　ago；　fifty　years　ago；　five　years

ago；　in　these　United　States；　assault　and　battery　was　not　a　civil

capital　crime。　　But　this　year；　the　year　of　Our　Lord　1913；　in　the

State　of　California；　they　hanged　Jake　Oppenheimer　for　such　an

offence；　and　to…morrow；　for　the　civil　capital　crime　of　punching　a

man　on　the　nose；　they　are　going　to　take　me　out　and　hang　me。　　Query：

Doesn't　it　require　a　long　time　for　the　ape　and　the　tiger　to　die　when

such　statutes　are　spread　on　the　statute　book　of　California　in　the

nineteen…hundred…and…thirteenth　year　after　Christ？　　Lord；　Lord；　they

only　crucified　Christ。　　They　have　done　far　worse　to　Jake　Oppenheimer

and　me。　。　。　。





As　Ed　Morrell　once　rapped　to　me　with　his　knuckles：　　〃The　worst

possible　use　you　can　put　a　man　to　is　to　hang　him。〃　　No；　I　have

little　respect　for　capital　punishment。　　Not　only　is　it　a　dirty　game；

degrading　to　the　hangdogs　who　personally　perpetrate　it　for　a　wage；

but　it　is　degrading　to　the　commonwealth　that　tolerates　it；　votes　for

it；　and　pays　the　taxes　for　its　maintenance。　　Capital　punishment　is

so　SILLY；　so　stupid；　so　horribly　unscientific。　　〃To　be　hanged　by　the

neck　until　dead〃　is　society's　quaint　phraseology　。　。　。





Morning　is　comemy　last　morning。　　I　slept　like　a　babe　throughout

the　night。　　I　slept　so　peacefully　that　once　the　death…watch　got　a

fright。　　He　thought　I　had　suffocated　myself　in　my　blankets。　　The

poor　man's　alarm　was　pitiful。　　His　bread　and　butter　was　at　stake。

Had　it　truly　been　so；　it　would　have　meant　a　black　mark　against　him；

perhaps　discharge　and　the　outlook　for　an　unemployed　man　is　bitter

just　at　present。　　They　tell　me　that　Europe　began　liquidating　two

years　ago；　and　that　now　the　United　States　has　begun。　　That　means

either　a　business　crisis　or　a　quiet　panic　and　that　the　armies　of　the

unemployed　will　be　large　next　winter；　the　bread…lines　long。　。　。　。



I　have　had　my　breakfast。　　It　seemed　a　silly　thing　to　do；　but　I　ate

it　heartily。　　The　Warden　came　with　a　quart　of　whiskey。　　I　presented

it　to　Murderers　Row　with　my　compliments。　　The　Warden；　poor　man；　is

afraid；　if　I　be　not　drunk；　that　I　shall　make　a　mess　of　the　function

and　cast　reflection　on　his　management　。　。　。



They　have　put　on　me　the　shirt　without　a　collar。　。　。



It　seems　I　am　a　very　important　man　this　day。　　Quite　a　lot　of　people

are　suddenly　interested　in　me。　。　。　。



The　doctor　has　just　gone。　　He　has　taken　my　pulse。　　I　asked　him　to。

It　is　normal。　。　。　。



I　write　these　random　thoughts；　and；　a　sheet　at　a　time；　they　start　on

their　secret　way　out　beyond　the　walls。　。　。　。



I　am　the　calmest　man　in　the　prison。　　I　am　like　a　child　about　to

start　on　a　journey。　　I　am　eager　to　be　gone；　curious　for　the　new

places　I　shall　see。　　This　fear　of　the　lesser　death　is　ridiculous　to

one　who　has　gone　into　the　dark　so　often　and　lived　again。　。　。　。



The　Warden　with　a　quart　of　champagne。　　I　have　dispatched　it　down

Murderers　Row。　　Queer；　isn't　it；　that　I　am　so　considered　this　last

day。　　It　must　be　that　these　men　who　are　to　kill　me　are　themselves

afraid　of　death。　　To　quote　Jake　Oppenheimer：　　I；　who　am　about　to

die；　must　seem　to　them　something　God…awful。　。　。　。



Ed　Morrell　has　just　sent　word　in　to　me。　　They　tell　me　he　has　paced

up　and　down　all　night　outside　the　prison　wall。　　Being　an　ex…convict；

they　have　red…taped　him　out　of　seeing　me　to　say　good…bye。　　Savages？

I　don't　know。　　Possibly　just　children。　　I'll　wager　most　of　them　will

be　afraid　to　be　alone　in　the　dark　to…night　after　stretching　my　neck。



But　Ed　Morrell's　message：　　〃My　hand　is　in　yours；　old　pal。　　I　know

you'll　swing　off　game。〃　。　。　。





The　reporters　have　just　left。　　I'll　see　them　next；　and　last　time；

from　the　scaffold；　ere　the　hangman　hides　my　face　in　the　black　cap。

They　will　be　looking　curiously　sick。　　Queer　young　fellows。　　Some

show　that　they　have　been　drinking。　　Two　or　three　look　sick　with

foreknowledge　of　what　they　have　to　witness。　　It　seems　easier　to　be

hanged　than　to　look　on。　。　。　。





My　last　lines。　　It　seems　I　am　delaying　the　procession。　　My　cell　is

quite　crowded　with　officials　and　dignitaries。　　They　are　all　nervous。

They　want　it　over。　　Without　a　doubt；　some　of　them　have　dinner

engagements。　　I　am　really　offending　them　by　writing　these　few　words。

The　priest　has　again　preferred　his　request　to　be　with　me　to　the　end。

The　poor　manwhy　should　I　deny　him　that　solace？　　I　have　consented；

and　he　now　appears　quite　cheerful。　　Such　small　things　make　some　men

happy！　　I　could　stop　and　laugh　for　a　hearty　five　minutes；　if　they

were　not　in　such　a　hurry。



Here　I　close。　　I　can　only　repeat　myself。　　There　is　no　death。　　Life

is　spirit；　and　spirit　cannot　die。　　Only　the　flesh　dies　and　passes；

ever　a…crawl　with　the　chemic　ferment　that　informs　it；　ever　plastic；

ever　crystall