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prodigious stairway I was roundly kicked； punched； and cuffed by the
horde of trusties and guards who got in one another's way in their
zeal to assist him。 Heavens； if his nose did bleed； the probability
is that some of his own kind were guilty of causing it in the
confusion of the scuffle。 I shouldn't care if I were responsible
for it myself； save that it is so pitiful a thing for which to hang
a man。 。 。 。
I have just had a talk with the man on shift of my death…watch。 A
little less than a year ago； Jake Oppenheimer occupied this same
death…cell on the road to the gallows which I will tread to…morrow。
This man was one of the death…watch on Jake。 He is an old soldier。
He chews tobacco constantly； and untidily； for his gray beard and
moustache are stained yellow。 He is a widower； with fourteen living
children； all married； and is the grandfather of thirty…one living
grandchildren； and the great…grandfather of four younglings； all
girls。 It was like pulling teeth to extract such information。 He
is a queer old codger； of a low order of intelligence。 That is why；
I fancy； he has lived so long and fathered so numerous a progeny。
His mind must have crystallized thirty years ago。 His ideas are
none of them later than that vintage。 He rarely says more than yes
and no to me。 It is not because he is surly。 He has no ideas to
utter。 I don't know； when I live again； but what one incarnation
such as his would be a nice vegetative existence in which to rest up
ere I go star…roving again。 。 。 。
But to go back。 I must take a line in which to tell； after I was
hustled and bustled； kicked and punched； up that terrible stairway
by Thurston and the rest of the prison…dogs； of the infinite relief
of my narrow cell when I found myself back in solitary。 It was all
so safe； so secure。 I felt like a lost child returned home again。
I loved those very walls that I had so hated for five years。 All
that kept the vastness of space； like a monster； from pouncing upon
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