Newspaper Page Text
B • ■ -
[J| “ W j | Vol. 1. Forgive and forget, no matter who wronged you. Or injured with malice, or envy, or threat; Don’t stop to think over the trials that thronged you; Look forward, and seek all past ills to forget. Forgive and forget; your hopes may be blighted. And friendship you trusted would all else outlive May sadly have failed you; but, though you are slighted By those you held truest, and dearest, forgive. Forgive and forget; your heart may be weary With burdens, your eyelids with tears may be wet; Though others’ unkindness makes all your life dreary, Oh! freely forgive them, and try to forget. Forgive and forget, while sadly you wander, Disheartened, discouraged, nor stop to regret All your troubles, but look to that fair country yonder. Where Christ all your sins will forgive and forget. —Selected. For The Mirror. The Relation of Liquor to Crime. The statement is often made that liquor is the cause of 80 percent, of the crime that is committed. The friends of strong drink, of course, deny this, and say. truthfully perhaps, that there is nothing of a criminal nature in the act of taking a drink. They say also that there are a great many honest. upritrht men that take their “allowance” regularly. We cannot assert that the indulgence in strong drink, considered in the abstract, is crime. It remains for us to try and dis cover the part which liquor undoubtedly does occupy, both in the formation of the criminal, and his subsequent career. Many criminals assert after their arrest, that, had they not been drunk, they would not have committed the offence. This state ment, 1 believe, in the majority of cases, to be absolutely false. It may be true in a few instances when the crime was commit ted in the heat of a drunken frenzy. But the majority of crimes are carefully planned, and the attempt made by persons whose minds are clear and whose instincts are sharpened by the dangers which menace them. There are doubtless some who need the false courage which liquor gives a man. but iu instances of this nature, the man gets drunk with this delinite object in view. It is necessary for every one to earn a livli hood. The chief object aimed at by every one is gain. Why is it that this common necessity should lead some men to commit crime and others to obtain the same result by honest labor? A criminal never commits a crime for the sake of committing it. He needs money and he uses dishonest means to obtain it. The habit of drink draws from a man’s resources in several ways. It costs money without the return of food or raiment, and lessens his capacity of earning it. It absorbs his time as well as money. So the tendency of drink is to lessen in a marked degree, a persons in come. If a man frequents a saloon a great door is at once opened through which his money will dissapear. almost without his knowl edge. No one will deny that the habit of drink lias its subtle fascinations, and if a young man once acquires this habit, it will slowly but surely blunt his keener sensi bilities of honesty. He soon begins to shake dice, play cards for drinks, and final ly for money. There is no surer way to draw a man into financial straits than drink. And when a man is actually in want is the time that his baa angel becomes his con trolling spirit and the first actual criminal step takes place. I grant that to commit a crime of any character that the man must necessarily be lacking the moral strength to resist temptation. If he is morally weak, it is claimed that he would commit crime whether lie was a drinking man or not. This is not necessarily true. Why? Be- No. 13. Stillwater, Minn.., Wednesday, Nov. 2,188 Y. VORGIVE AND FORGET. “ IT IS NEVER TOO HATE TO MEND.” cause the majority of men can earn ample to support themselves if they do not squan der their means in liquor. No man commits crime for fun—he needs money, and lie needs more money than he can honestly earn and spend half his time in a saloon. The result of a successful crime rarely confer a lasting benefit upon the operator, because almost invariably the money goes for whisky. A man will plan and carry out suceesfully a crime and then yield himself to drink, and drink will be the direct cause of a misstep which will land him behind the bars. Liquor in this manner may be a blessing in disguise. A young man rarely gets acquainted with a professional outside of a saloon. The majority of crimes Jiave their birth in a saloon. The saloon fur nishes tlie necessary rendezvous, and when the crime lias been committed the saloon welcomes the criminal witli open arms, shields him if need be from the hands of justice and —greedily absorbs all of his money and leaves him no recourse but to do likewise again. It is in these indirect ways that liquor is the cause of so much crime. It absorbs a man’s time and money. These are some of the reasons why 1 am now a sincere advocate of “prohibition.” There are men who truly desire to live honest, sober lives, but who cannot resist the faci nations and apparent good fellowship of the criminal habit. If liquor is kept from these men they cannot squander their money, and if they have money they have no temptation to steal. It may be claimed that this is placing the human being in a very low scale, but who can gainsay the truth of it? There are two ways to resist temptation—one is by the exercise of will power. If this power is strong, victory insues; ii it is weak, of course failure is the result. The other way is to remove the temptation. I should not fail to mention one other means of grace and that is the strength that comes from above. In order to obtain this wonderful assistance one must become a Christian; to become a christain one must have faith; and it is only to a minority that this faith is given. The majority of us must depend upon ourselves and no one should be blamed for wishing to surround himself with stronger safeguards than his own will. No one will deny that Ulysses was a brave man, and yet when his ship approached the Isle of Sirens and the strains of their deadly music fell upon his ear, lie did not trust to his will power to resist the fatal attraction, but filled the ears of his companions with wax and tied him self to the mast with a good strong rope until his vessel was out of the dangerous locality. True, there may be some among us who have the power of Orpheus. You will remember that when the Argonauts in search of the Golden Fleece that they also approached the magical Isle but instead of following the example of Ulysses. Jason commanded Orpheus to strike the lyre and instead of allowing the surpassing beauty of forms and song to lure them on to dis tinction, the music of Orpheus was so much sweeter than that of the sirens that they threw themselves into the sea and were turned into rocks. There may be a few of us that have the will power to pass by the glittering palaces of temptation, and turn their alluring pleasures into uninvit ing stones, but the majority of us cannot but wish for the total annihilation of the saloon and its attendant attractions. For my part, when I leave here I will not be ashamed to follow the example of Ulysses and povide myself with lots of wax and a good strong rope. To sum up—a plethoria pocketbook is the preventive “par excel lence” of crime and the surest guarantee of the above pocketbook is the abolition of the saloon. Geo. Elliott. Oct. 27. 18S7. Choice is the supreme prerogative of the moral creation as distinguished from the material, and a mighty prerogative it is. The hughest orb in space cannot choose to loiter an instant in its swift rush, or to swerve a hair’s-breadth from its orbit, but the little babe that has just learned to say mamma can overtlnovv the throne of God in his own little bosom.—George P. Board man. Sunday Muningx. Editor Mirror How odd it sounds, and yet the walls of this prison inclose a decidedly exclusive class of society with its lines of division as clearly defined as those of the outside and larger world, for gradually the mind of man, owing to its elasticity shrinks to accommo date itself to circumstances, and as time drags slowly on the images and remem brances grow more and more indistinct un til at last, as in the case of prisoners who have been immured for many years, the four walls bound their little world and the miniature society therein supplies his daily food for thought. And the, importance he attaches to the apparantly trifling and insig nificant events, vexations and petty griev ances and anxieties would seem ludicrous to those who are unaware of this peculiar ity of the mind —that long isolation will often bring forgetfulness or indifference. This mental elasticity is more apparent in the young tnan the old; but even in the case ot the aged the lines of thought, precedent, and custom rarely grow so rigid that this provision of an All-wise Providence is de fected, for if it were not for the fact that Nature accommodated itself to circum stances to a certain extent, then would men all die of heartbreak and anguish, disap pointment and grief, at the loss of cher ished possessions, or the demolition ot cher ished plans, hopes and desires —as in the case of the aged emigrant leaving his country that lie may find a home and pros perity beyond the seas, not for himself but for his progeny. That hope alone inspires him. But there is always that true and ten der solicitude for his country’s welfare and a yearning to again visit the scenes of his youth, and he pictures to himself the village streets and houses and fields; the people with whom lie associated, and the distance lends enchantment to the retrospection. So with the aged prisoner of the Bastile when liberated; his life had been “reformed” and rendered useless to himself and others, and the lines of habit had become so set that the old man preferred imprisonment to liber ty. So long had this old man been confined that liberty to him meant death. The lines of habit had worn so deeply and mental action grown so set that an attempt to “re form” its organization results in confusion and death. It was too late. In the effort to mould this creature properly the job was overdone and spoiled beyond repair. I have often by the aid of my books and other occupations diverted my thoughts in to prison channels and fora time been con tented, and then suddenly—at the note of a bird or the scent of a flower, borne into my cell by a gentle zephyr, or sound of music or the merry voice of children whose shrill treble voices penetrate to the cell house as they romp and play on the hill outside the walls—been recalled from the lethargic sleep to the events that were passing on the outside. There lives on the Hill outside the wall a festive performer on the flute who, during the summer evenings, is wont to play his favorite airs, (and from the nature of which, I should judge that the artist is of Hibern ian extraction,) and if as he vigorously ma nipulates the keys in the rendition of “Col leen Bawn.” “The Rocky Road to Dublin” and the “Wearing of the Green,” he could only realize what an appreciative audience are catching the lovely strains that float in, in whole bars, and mentally applauding each gracefully executed variation, he could not feel otherwise than proud of his musical abilities. Judging by the silence of the cell house when Bonnaparte commences crossing the Alps or the artist begins to mourn for the “Girl He Left Behind” lie lias carried many a poor fellow beyond the walls in thought and stimulated his imagina tion and memory to reel off reminiscences until tired nature stepped in and called a halt. But that the prisoner lias been bene fitted in stealing fourth surreptitiously cannot be doubted and that this reflection is an element of reform is indisputable, but Pive Gents. when continued to greater lengths than tlieii spirit or health is capable of with standing, then it is worthless as a mea sure for good and can only work evil. The wearing anxiety will either induce imbecil ity or create feelings of hatred for all law and order, and a desire for revenge on a society that dealt so unjustly with an offend er who believes that a shorter sentence would have convinced him of his mistake quite as readily as the rendering of his life useless and aimless by the sacrificing of the greater part of it to a life of punishment, which ceases to become wholesome by rea son of a long continuance. I think if the judge and powers that be were convinced that this is invariably the. case they would not be so prone to severity in the adminis tration of “justice” and in all eases give a “fellow a show,” as the chances are just as much in favor of his becoming a good citizen with a short term as they are of his becoming a very bad one with a long term; and it is rarely the case that he is otherwise than bad, or an idiot, after serving a long term. F. M. . Oct. 30, 1887. Selected for The Mirror. Sense and Nonsense. Unless the causes are removed, the bad moods of one day are apt to follow us into the next. A young man is far on the road to evil, when lie loses faith in woman. Dur ing the formative period of character, she is the most potent in making or marring him. Only the true and brave have absolute faith in others. We only know ourselves, what we really are, when the force of circumstances brings us out. My young friend, don’t fly higher than von can roost. Self-made men are apt to worship their maker. Repeated kindness softens the hardest hearts. What is whisky but the devil in solution. In Siam they have a curious way of de ciding lawsuits. Both parties are put under cold water, and the one staying long est wins the suit. In this country both parties are got into hot water, and then kept their as long as possible. The result is about the same. The three most difficult things are to keep a secret, to forgive an injury, and to make good use of one’s leisure time. Do noble things—not dream them all day long. PRISON PUCKERS. BY PICKLES. Lady Visitor: “What brought you to this dreadful place, young man?” Convict: “A train of circumstances —and the sheriff, madam.” It’s the prison batcher who makes both ends meat —in the sausage. When the convict “enters” in the race “against time,” his “pedigree” is taken; the guards are the appointed “judges” and the warden is the “time keeper.” If he makes “good time,” he will the sooner reach the home stretch and leave with a “good record.” When is the prison docter like a sheriff? When he has a felon to treat. The clock in the “cellar” made a “short stop” the other day that would have done credit to a professional ball player. When the office “push” asked what was the matter with it. one of the “con. clerks” susgested that it was “stuck”—on the wall. He was docked a ration of tobacco. Capt. Taylor is very popular, and as an usher lie’s a “rusher.” But he doesn’t “rush the growler.” The Minnetpolis Tribune is down on the little PRISON MIUUOH. and thinks that it ought to be suppressed. While THE MIRROR has its faults and is undoubtedly run by men not as good as the average freeman it has never made as bad a break as the Tribune did last week.