reform nor any object in the reformation. No matter how thorough the
reform, the prisoner never goes back to society, or he returns after
there is no longer a chance for him to be of use to the world or to
enjoy life.

Those who say that punishment is for the purpose of reforming the
prisoner are not familiar with human psychology. The prison almost
invariably tends to brutalize men and breeds bitterness and blank
despair. The life of the ordinary prisoner is given over to criticism
and resentment against existing things, especially to settled hatred of
those who are responsible for his punishment. Only a few, and these are
the weakest, ever blame themselves for their situation. Every man of
intelligence can trace the various steps that led him to the prison
door, and he can feel, if he does not understand, how inevitable each
step was. The number of "repeaters" in prison shows the effect of this
kind of a living death upon the inmates. To be branded as a criminal and
turned out in the world again leaves one weakened in the struggle of
life and handicapped in a race that is hard enough for most men at the
best. In prison and after leaving prison, the man lives in a world of
his own; a world where all moral values are different from those
professed by the jailer and society in general. The great influence that
helps to keep many men from committing crime--the judgment of his
fellows--no longer deters him in his conduct. In fact, every person who
understands penal institutions--no matter how well such places are
managed--knows that a thousand are injured or utterly destroyed by
service in prison, where one is helped.

Very few persons seriously believe that offenders are sent to prison out
of kindness to the men. If there were any foundation for this idea, each
prisoner would be carefully observed, and when he was fit would be