fellow, scarcely of age, who looked as little like a convict as anybody
on that platform. He was in for burglary, and had a very bad record.
Some came in half laughing, as if they thought the whole affair more a
joke than anything else. The Mexicans, of whom there was quite a number,
were sullen and scowling. There is gloom in the Spanish blood. The
irrepressible good nature of several ruddy-faced Irishmen broke out in
sly merriment. As the service began, the discipline of the prison showed
itself in the quiet that instantly prevailed; but only a few, who joined
in the singing, seemed to feel the slightest interest in it. Their eyes
were wandering, and their faces were vacant. They had the look of men
who had come to be talked at and patronized, and who were used to it.
The prayer that was offered was not calculated to banish such a feeling
--it was dry and cold. I stood up to begin the sermon. Never before had
I realized so folly that God's message was to lost men, and for lost
men. A mighty tide of pity rushed in upon my soul as I looked down into
the faces of my hearers. My eyes filled, and my heart melted within me.
I could not speak until after a pause, and only then by great effort.
There was a deep silence, and every face was lifted to mine as I
announced the text. God had touched my heart and theirs at the start. I
read the words slowly: God hath not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain
salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ. Then I said:

"My fellow-men, I come to you today with a message from my Father, and
your Father in heaven. It is a message of hope. God help me to deliver
it as I ought! God help you to hear it as you ought! I will not insult
you by saying that because you have an extra dinner, a few hours respite
from your toil, and a little fresh air and sunshine, you ought to have a
joyful thanksgiving today. If I should talk thus, you would be ready to
ask me how I would like to change places with you. You would despise me,
and I would despise myself, for indulging in such cant. Your lot is a