I left the prison with my moral sense warped and twisted. I do not mean to say that I had lost the faculty of differentiating between right and wrong entirely. No, not that, but association with debased natures and the influence of vicious environment had combined to break down my sense of moral values. Things which I had been taught to abhor as contaminating to health and morals I found myself looking at with complacent eyes.
Some few persons have asked me whether before the commission of a crime the man does not think of the right or wrong of it. I have answered them that he does not, that the question of morality never enters into the mind of the crook. Of course, if you could stop a crook immediately before the commission of his act and ask him if he didn’t know the act to be wrong, generally speaking, he would answer, “Yes.” He would answer thus because the morality of the thing would be put square before him. Lacking the reminders, it is safe to say that he never does.
The professional crook is a difficult problem to handle, when looking toward a reformation. Years of living without the necessity of labor have made him unsuited to a great many occupations, and this, coupled with the fact that a great many are without trades, makes it a problem which only the wise can handle.
I know there are a great many people in this world with just the best of intentions toward this class of men. They are interested in social work, they have a heart swelling with sympathy, and hands eager to help lift the load, but they lack understanding. I know a fellow helped toward hell by a man of good intentions. Men have been pauperized by sympathy. The lazy are ever ready for some one else to bear their load. It takes more than good intentions, more than sympathy, more than a readiness to help, to make a reformation in the character of the crook. The man who seeks to reclaim these men (I say man because I know of only one woman ever successful in this effort—Mrs. Ballington Booth) must first of all understand them. He must know life as it is, not as he thinks it is. He must have as his patron saint the virtue patience; absolutely he must be an optimist, yet not a visionary; he must be gentle, yet strong, acting absolutely on the square toward the man he fain would reclaim. He must be religious. Not a conventional churchgoer. No, he must be more than that. His religion must emanate from his personality. Creed must be subdued, sectarianism must give place to brotherhood. Even these qualifications do not necessarily mean success. As no man of the underworld is like his fellow, different methods will need to be followed in the effort to reclaim them. I have outlined the fundamentals essential to even a partial success in this line. The opportunities for good are beyond number.