So they pass from the streets to the police, from police-courts to prison, with positive regularity.
They behave themselves in prison, they obey orders, they do the bit of work that is required of them, they eat the food, and they sleep interminable hours away.
At the back of the young men we see row after row of older men, and their khaki clothing and broad arrows produce a strange impression upon us; but what impresses us most is the facial and physical appearance of the prisoners.
Cripples are there, twisted bodies are there, one-armed men are there, and blind men are there.

Here and there we see a healthy man, with vigour and strength written on his face; but the great mass of faces strikes us with dismay, and we feel at once that most of them are handicapped In life, and demand pity rather than vengeance.
We know that they are not as other men, and we realise that their afflictions more than their sins are responsible for their presence in that doleful assembly.
Yet some of them are clever in crime, and many of them persistent in wrong-doing, but their afflictions were neglected in days when those afflictions should have been a passport to the pity and care of the community.
We see men who have grown old in different prisons, and we know that position in social and industrial life is impossible for them.
We see a number whom it is evident are not mentally responsible, for whom there is no place but the workhouse or prison; yet we realise that, old as they are, the day of liberty must come once more, and they will be free to starve or steal! We know that there are some epileptics among them, and that their dread complaint has caused them to commit acts of violence.
We see among them men of education that have made war upon society.
Drunkards, too, are there, and we know that their overmastering passion will demand gratification when once again the opportunity of indulging in its presented to them.

So we look at this strange mass of humanity, and as we look a mist comes over our eyes, and we feel a choking sensation in our throats.
But we look again, and see that few throughout this great assembly show any sense of sorrow or shame.

As we speak to them of hope, gladness, of manliness, and of the dignity of life, we feel that we are preaching to an east wind.

Come round the same prison with me on a week-day; in one part we find a number of men seated about six feet from each other making baskets; warders are placed on pedestals here and there to keep oversight.
We walk past them, and notice their slow movements and see hopelessness written all over them.