CORLISS.
The work of the prison must be done, life or death; and as some part of this work can be done by only one man, that man must never be sick. Corliss was the only man that could do correctly the work to which he was assigned, and as there was a call for him every hour in the day, so every hour in the day he must work, sick or well. All men are liable to be sick, and there was no more exemption for him than for others; but he must do his work whenever called for. The life of a prisoner is estimated in cents, and of his happiness, no account is made. His labor is all that renders him valuable, and to this he is ever goaded; and when he can do no more, then—"poor old horse, let him die."
Oppressed by constant toil, Corliss began at length to fail, and his countenance began to denote the nature of his disease; but he could gain no release from his work, and frequently was he called out of his cell, when his cough and deathly look should have admonished his keepers to prepare him a winding sheet, and forced to do the labor of a well man.
Finding at last that his working days were over, the keepers recommended him for a pardon, and he was released just in time to die. It is one of the practical regulations of the prison, to keep all the profitable prisoners as long as possible, and to pardon all such as are of no use. Another regulation is, that when the work requires a prisoner to be in a particular place, there he must be at any rate. This regulation has borne hard on many beside the subject of this sketch, and when it has crippled them for life, they are generally let out to die. The ghosts of many whom I saw nailed to this cross, are at this moment crossing my mind. I could fill a page with their names, and the pains that dart every hour through my shadowy form, admonish me that my escape from the same doom was rather visionary than real.