You would never hear at Gheel such a complaint as this, by a poor lunatic confined in an asylum, where, indeed, he was the subject of intelligent and devoted cares:
"They call us patients, to control and to oppress us, but they do not allow us the indulgence of sick folk! Often after a restless night, I would like to sleep in the morning. But no: the hour has come, the bell rings, we must rise whether we will or not. I am not, then, a patient any longer!"
At Gheel, no bell strikes the limit between sleep and waking. Pleasure, the example of activity, and appetite, are stimuli sufficient to counteract sluggishness. Sleep is never disturbed, unless by order of the physician on some particular occasion. Often, says Dr. Parigot, I have asked on entering, "Where is Mr.——?" The answer would be, "Doctor, our heerke is still abed; his breakfast is waiting him there by the fire;" and this at ten or eleven o'clock.
It may be asked whether the frequency of accidents and of escapes does not counterpoise the advantages of so much liberty.
No! accidents are neither common nor serious. Quarrels and spats are easily appeased; they occur very seldom, which is due, in part, to the tendency of the insane to keep apart rather than to associate with each other. This tendency is not contravened at Gheel, as at asylums, where the annoyance of forced association exasperates susceptible characters and irritable nervous systems.
"I am really mad, then, for them to condemn me to live with these people!" cried a monomaniac in despair. Enter almost any hall of an asylum where the insane assemble to warm themselves: you will be heart-struck by the sinister expression of this feeling in persons most of whom are as sensible as yourself to manias which are not their own, and whose punishment consists in finding themselves everywhere and always with the insane. These men and women are overwhelmed with ennui. The room in which they pass the night does not belong to them, and this warmed gallery, that yard, that garden, are for them but walled cages. You may read upon their faces the aggravation thus occasioned, while the chances of their cure diminish daily.
Now, turn to the lunatic at Gheel, who enjoys the free air, and feels a property in his chamber, in his books, his tools, his plants, his stones and various collections. He adorns his domicile after his own fashion; his inscriptions or designs appear upon the walls. He is busy in acting his dream; he roams in the woods and fields; he fishes in the streams, or spreads snares for birds, or labors at his will. Another writes all day in the sand of the streets the story of his thoughts— hieroglyphics to which he alone has the key. A third relieves his inward agitation by external movement; all day innocently busy, he returns tranquillized to his lodgings at night The rest are at work with their hosts, or at sport with the children, their friends and peers.
That melancholy which engenders the disgust of life, may often be calmed by a change so complete in one's whole existence, while the predisposition to it is not aggravated by the despair of incarceration. Dispersion in families distinct and often isolated, counteracts the danger of contagious imitation.
In the course of half a century, only two acts of personal violence are on record.