This is as I recall it. It may possibly not be exact—however the sense is the same.
If Mr. Osborne half realized what an influence for good his stay here had been to every single man in the place, I feel sure that he would not feel that his privations and hardships of the past week had been in vain.
Sincerely,
E. O. I., No. 32—.
Of course it may be urged with some force that such letters are not conclusive, for it can not be proved that the writers have received any permanent help; that even those, like Jim, who straighten out may get tired of a virtuous life and relapse. That is perfectly true. For instance, my lively jail friend in Cell Four, Joe, in spite of all efforts to help him upon his release, failed to make good.
But such an argument misses the point. The important thing is that these men have good in them—a statement that can not be made too often. It is true that they are bad—in spots. But they are also good—in spots. And with a right system the good could be developed so as to help in driving out the bad. If Joe had received proper training in prison he would have gone straight after he got out. What I am just now trying to prove is the existence of good—and a large measure of it.
Here, for instance, is a letter from a man who has failed to go straight since his release.
135 State St., Auburn, N. Y.,
Sunday, Oct. 19, 1913.
Hon. Thomas Mott Osborne, Auburn, N. Y.
Dear Sir: As this is the last letter yours truly will ever write in a prison cell (that is, I hope to God and his blessed and holy Mother it is the last), I don’t know of a person other than T. M. Osborne I would rather write to. I don’t know of a single case ever recorded in the U. S. if not in the world where fourteen hundred men left a meeting house—men, understand, in public life who would not stop at anything—those same men left that chapel on Oct. 5 crying like babies! And I, being prison steam-fitter here, I heard some very good stories of Mr. Osborne—going around to the different shops Monday morning. It only shows that with a little kindness shown toward these same men that you could do most anything with them, and make better men of them in the future. Before God, I honestly swear and believe that Mr. Osborne could have taken that same bunch of men from Auburn Prison that Sunday, and put them on the road to work and 99 per cent. would have made good—and that’s a very good percentage. I have seen a good deal of this country—east, west, north and south—but believe me Oct. 5 beats everything. It is a scene which I shall always remember. Well, Mr. Osborne, I expected to have a little talk with you on Prison Reform but you have been very busy, so if I get a chance some time I’ll drop in and see you. I leave the Hotel Rattigan to-morrow morning a wiser and better man.
Believe me, sir, you have the love and respect of every man behind these prison walls.