the religious leaders as "easy
marks"--every one of them. The detectives of the Society for
Prevention of Crime went through my parish and discovered wholesale
violations of excise laws and city ordinances by the existence of
bawdy-houses and the selling of liquor in prohibited hours and on
Sundays. The captain of the precinct came out with a public statement
that these men were liars; that the law was observed and prostitution
did not exist. As between Dr. Parkhurst and the captain of the
precinct, the public was inclined to believe the captain.

One Sunday evening after service, I dressed in the clothes of a
labourer, took several men with me and went through the parish. The
first place we entered was the East River Hotel, a few blocks from my
church. We purchased whiskey at the bar. I did not drink the whiskey,
for under oath I could not tell whether it was whiskey or not; but my
companions were not so hampered. After paying for the liquor, we were
invited upstairs, and there we saw one of the ghastliest, most inhuman
sights that can be found anywhere on earth outside of Port Said. We
counted forty women on the first floor. We saw them and their stalls,
surroundings and companions, and we beat a hasty retreat. A cry of
alarm was raised, and the barkeeper jumped to the door. It was secured
by two heavy chains. No explanation was made, but a straight demand
that he open the door, which was done, and we passed out.

The grand jury, which at that time was hearing report and
counter-report on the condition of the neighbourhood, had for a
foreman a Tammany man who owned several saloons. We went into these
saloons one after another, purchased liquor in bottles, and next
morning appeared before the grand jury armed with affidavits, and the
liquor. Dr. Parkhurst stood at the door of the jury room as I went
in, and whispered to me as I passed him: "This thing cannot last
forever."

The first few minutes of my testimony I was unconsciously assuming the
position of a criminal myself, and apologizing for interfering with
these gentlemen. The assistant district attorney, instead of
representing the people and standing for the Law, was inquiring into
my reasons for doing such an unusual thing. I objected to the foreman
sitting on his own case.

"This man," I said, "is an habitual violator of the Law. I am here to
testify to that; so are my companions. We have the evidence of his
law-breaking here," and I pointed to the bottle