In the first few years everything appeared rosy. The reports continue: "As a body, the men show a spirit of willing and cheerful obedience. The strictest discipline is maintained with a very small proportion of punishment. The industry of the working parties is remarkable." Again, the same report asserts that "any candid and dispassionate inquiry into the condition and prospects of the convicts who have passed through periods of penal and reformatory discipline at Pentonville and Portland, will prove beyond doubt that, to say the least of it, the majority of those now serving are likely on their release to be respectable in their station of life, and useful to those who engage their services; thus realising the anticipations of the Pentonville commissioners, that a large proportion of our convicts would be qualified on their discharge to occupy an honest position in their own or any other country." This was in 1852 and for the following ten years the new plans were persevered in with very general satisfaction. The public heard with pleasure of the notable results achieved. All indeed were a little weary of the subject of secondary punishment, and were content to leave the problem in the hands of officials whose duty it was to deal with it. How long this indifference might have continued it is impossible to conjecture, but all at once a panic fell upon people that was long remembered. It is only when touched by the sharp sense of personal insecurity that people are universally roused to take an interest in such affairs. The moment came when--in presence of a real or imaginary danger--England awoke to the fact that her penal system was all a mistake.