It was, of course, inevitable, considering the large space prison reform and discharged prisoners have occupied in the public mind, that some influence, not altogether healthy, would be exercised on both prisoners and public. The leniency of sentences, or of treatment whilst undergoing sentences, has upon most prisoners a humanizing and softening effect. On others it produces a very different feeling, for in a measure it confirms them in wrong-doing. Personally, I have great faith in wise and discriminate leniency, preferring the risk of confirming the few to the certainty of hardening the many. Still, it is worth while, in our efforts for prison reform and for ex-prisoners' social salvation, to pause sometimes and inquire not only what success is being achieved, but also what is the general effect of our efforts. The constant stream of appeals on behalf of discharged prisoners that flows throughout the length and breadth of our land, while productive of good, is of a certainty productive of much evil. The efforts made in prison to get prisoners to attach themselves to some recognized Prisoners' Aid Society before discharge, good as they are, are not without some ill consequences. The sympathy of the community for men and women who have broken their country's laws, and who are undergoing, or have undergone, terms of imprisonment, has been so often and so earnestly proclaimed that even this expression of sympathy has had consequences that were not anticipated, but which might have been expected if a little more thought had been given to the matter. It is, I know, impossible that any movement or trend of thought can be absolutely free from evil, and every influence for good has something connected with it that acts in an opposite direction. One result of all this public sympathy and effort has been to lead a large number of people to think and believe that because they have been criminals, and have suffered just punishment for their evil-doing, it is someone's bounden duty to help them, and provide them not only with the means of living when discharged from prison, but also with suitable employment.
So far has this kind of belief permeated, that several of my acquaintances, educated men who have suffered well-merited terms of imprisonment, contend that the community ought to receive them back with open arms, and not only restore them to a position, but give them again the confidence and respect they had forfeited. Their offences having been purged, they argue, by the term of imprisonment suffered, the law has been satisfied; and the law now holding them guiltless, nothing else ought to be considered. These men, as I have said, were educated men, and well able to win back the public confidence if they set themselves to the task. But I am more concerned for the effect of this belief upon the ordinary prisoners, who have but little education, and for them it has disastrous effects. If there is one virtue that is absolutely necessary to a discharged prisoner, it is the virtue of self-reliance. Without it he is nothing. No matter what sympathy and what aid be extended to him from societies or individuals, without self-reliance he is a certain failure. Anything that tends to lessen self-reliance in discharged prisoners has, then, a tendency to reduce their chances of reformation. After all has been done that can possibly be done for discharged prisoners, one is compelled--reluctantly compelled--to the conclusion that the only men who can be rescued are those who possess grit and self-reliance. Many--I think that I can with safety say most--discharged prisoners appear to believe that assistance once given gives them a claim to other assistance. I have met with very few to whom I have given material help who thought that the help given them was exceptional and given with the view of helping them to a little start, that they might afterwards rely upon themselves. On the other hand, I have met with hundreds who actually believed that help previously given constituted an absolute claim to continued assistance. Sometimes it has taken much persuasion, and occasionally a display of physical force, before I have been able to get some discharged prisoners to accept my view of the matter.