Inmates of prisons may be regarded as a composite man, for in any collection of human beings, from a family to a nation, there is the larger man, which organizes itself in human form--with head, trunk, limbs, and organs. One group represents the brains, another the physical powers; the stomach is figured by the purveyors of food, and these analogies may be followed indefinitely; they are not fanciful, but actual. He is all here, but is prevented from functioning freely. His reaction against this repression of free action--a repression far more physical than mental--gives unnatural energy to the faculties and tends to lead into certain special channels, such as the falsity of human justice, the overpowering desire to be at liberty; emotions of resentment, resignation, hope, despair, impulses for antagonism or of good-will toward others; moods or irony, cynicism, and even humor; good or evil preoccupation of all kinds. In this way large reservoirs of human force are collected, which can get no relief from expression, and therefore corrode and distort the mind. But prisoners at that are no different clay from other folks. They are, if anything, different in that they are more sensitive, more sympathetic, more appreciative, and more trustful, once their confidence is gained, than the average person. They love the world and wish it well. The average prisoner--even the “old timer” serving a third or fourth sentence--will advise against a life of crime with all the earnestness and logic he is capable of commanding. But the prisoner, with his good qualities, has his faults--many of them. He is always looking for the best of it, and, from his standpoint, why shouldn’t he get it? He is a convict (the word is not pleasant to hear). It carries a stigma of shame and disgrace. It is lasting. He is declared unfit to live among his people; his movements are restricted; he cannot move or speak without the consent of an official; he is stripped of his citizenship; his home a narrow cell; he is helpless; has lost all--everything a man values in this world. The prisoner knows this full well. To him the best of it is the worst that the free man can imagine. This is the body corporate and the proposition the man or men charged with the care, keeping and discipline of prisoners have to contend with. The problems to be solved are difficult, and a gigantic task confronts the warden of any penitentiary. While the power of most wardens is as nearly absolute as mortal power can be, it is necessary, if he is expected to accomplish anything. The demands of his position are great--greater than any other person in the whole community. Upon his say-so depends the hope or despair of the prisoners, but we are convinced that the average warden is anxious for the uplift, and untiring in promoting the welfare of the men under him.