The following story, true in all particulars, will be of interest:
In one of our large prisons I saw an old man acting as "orderly" in the prison hospital. He was leaning over the bed of a young man who was dying of consumption. He was pointed out to me as an "old lag"--that is, an ex-convict. He was a habitual criminal, a sin-seared, oft-convicted, hardened old man, of whom and for whom there was no hope; a danger to the community and a pest to society, well known to prison officials. His last offence being of a technical character, he was sent to prison for a short term only. What could the Governor do with him? Solitude and severity had proved ineffectual for his reformation; deadening and soul-destroying monotony had failed to soften him; the good advice of various chaplains had fallen like seed in a stony place. He seemed impervious to feeling, not susceptible to kindness--a hopeless, dead-alive man.
An inspiration came to the Governor. He made the "old lag" into a nurse, and sent him into the hospital. Muttering and cursing, he went among the sick and the weak. He was brought face to face with suffering and death. Prison does not secure immunity from the fell scourge consumption, and the old man's days had to be spent among some upon whom the scourge had fixed its relentless grip. Sometimes death makes a long tarrying, and the wheels of consumption's death-car are long delayed.
Suffering, waiting, hoping for the end, lay a young man who was alone in the world. Too ill and too near death, he could not be discharged from prison; he had no friends into whose care he could be committed; so he must suffer, wait and hope for the end. And the old convict had to nurse him. Soon strange sensations began to thrill the old man, for pity took possession of him. By-and-by the old man's heart became tender again, and the foundations of the frozen deep were broken up; the "old lag" had learned to love! He had found someone in worse plight than himself, someone who needed his care, and someone whom he could care for. As the weary days passed, and the days lengthened into weeks, and the weeks into weary months, the affection between the two men grew in intensity, till the fear of separation filled their minds--a separation not caused by death.