MORALS IN THE UNDERWORLD
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.