senseless.

There were chapels in the old-time prisons, and all were forced
to accept and profess such views as the majority or the ruler
chose to profess.

That prison at Auburn is a monument to humanity's sorrows and
weaknesses. But it tells in every department of human decency
and of a constant striving by those who are fortunate to help
others.

In the prison yard a squad of convicts are marching. The
lock-step is there no longer. Prison reform has ended that. The
convict is no longer forced into a gait which stamps him ever
after.

There are electric lights in the hundreds of cells--and there is
absolute cleanliness throughout the vast structure. No hotel is
cleaner, if any be as clean.

The convicts get their letters twice a week. They have pictures
in their cells--and they may have musical instruments if they
wish; and many a man, beside his narrow plank bed, has a strip of
rag carpet made at home. Their lives are horrible--for
confinement kills men's souls; and one has said who knew prison
life:

"It is only what is GOOD in man
That wastes and withers there;
Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate,