Irvine Express and North Ayrshire Post. — 1886-07-16 (Irvine, Strathclyde, Scotland)

LITERARY GLEANINGS.  CRIMINAL EXPERIENCE IN NEW YORK. FOll4 Ma kNew York.  s„ man who loves men, and who observes ~,i„anala closely, can fall to recognise the derroame blight that falls on them from their very friendleasness. That they have deserved the emu it y of society does it'd in the least mitigate the louelinoss that conies to them through their complete ostracism by society. Thee are too often regarded as a race apart, witt. all sinful impulses intensified, and all good motives dead a ithin them. Their acceptance of this aituat is forced upon them, and no matter how earnestly they may strive to reform, lifted in the most excepme social Kan is only timid cases. When a noted criminal was told to trust in Cod to aid hint in his reformation, he , asked Po you think he would trust me ? No • honest man ever trusted me, and the beat men have been most reluctant to trust me." A thief once said to me " When a man once gets crooked he has got to be crooked always; honest people hate me tor being a thief, and they won't zit-, me a chance to be an honest man." Not Mice, but a score of times, I have had men say to me: "For Hod's mike why did the State let go of me ? I have no chance to be honest out of Prison I must either starve or steal." And when such a man gets hungry am' desperate he generally does steal, and goes back to prison. It is not within the intention of this article to poiut out how this state of things might be stiflewhat remedied by changes in our penal system, but limply to make a plea for the criminal, on the ground that he is not given a fair chance by society when he earnestly wishes to reform. There are many criminals who do reform, notwithstanding the difficulties that beset them, and their struggles, however they may be regarded by men, often show a degree of heroism that must send joy to the angels of Oa& One of the most remarskable cases of this kind that I ever knew was that of "John Loughbridge," the alas of a man who served a king term in one of our State-prisons for an assault committed when he was drunk. This man was the son of a well-known physician. His early home had been made wretched by a step-mother who heed him. He was driven out int,, the world, and became a " tough " and a member of "gani. He was a hard drinker, got into a tight about a woman, and was sent to prison. He came out of prison with the honest intention of living a reputable life. He sought work and found it in a stable. A so-called detective recognised him as a "prison bird," and blackmailed hint for half his wages weekly, on the threat of making known his past life to his employer. He could not live on the sum that was left to him, and was forced to leave his place. After spending six weeks in searchites for work, he came to the office of the Prison Association for help. It was mid-winter; his feet were bare; his named coat was pinned and buttoned up to his throat to hide the want of a shirt; he was pale with hunger. Under favourable circumstances he would have been a man of more than ordinary strength, but he was so weak that he almost fell into a chair when he entered the office. We asked hint what he wanted. He replied: "I want work, and I only want work." " Well, suppose you don't get it ?" "In that case IM going to die," he replied; "but Fin going to the honest. I've made too long a tight to give up now." We asked what trade he had learned in prison. He had learned moulding. He had once, since he came out, found a few days' work in a factory, and though he had given perfect satisfaction to his employer, it had become known that he was all ex-convict, and the honest men who were his fellow-workmen had, to use his own expression, "run hint out of the shop." Said he: "I went around the corner of the building and sat down on the curb-stone and cried like a baby; so much like a -baby that I was ashamed of myself." After that he g,ot odd jobs—putting in coal, and later on shovelling mow; but after the winter coal was mostly in, and, after along stretch of fine weather, he was forced to eat his shovel by turning it into bread. "Talk about Arctic voyagers," he said, "why, Ire been through it all right here in New York, freezing and starving and hopelessness and all." After a little time work was found for this man, and he acquitted himself well. But he was harassed by old associates, by men whom he had known in prison. Months went on, and his life ass a burden to him. His wife, a worthless woman who was in prison at the time of his release, came out, and by her vicious habits added to his misery. He has come to my house at two in the morning, driven out of his room by the violence of the woman whom he was trying to support. He lost job after job because it became known that he had been in prison. For two years he fought the battle, and then he took his own way down into the valley of the shadow of death. I received the news of his death just as I had been telling his story in a public meeting; the telegram simply said: "John Loughbridge has shot himself." The forces of Christian society has been too much for this poor prodigal, who "came to himself" to find a garment of shame prepared for him; and who, finding no place for himself in this world, preferred the chances of suicide to the certainties of an embittered existence. This is not an exceptional case. I have known of other ex-convicts who starved rather than steal, who have for Months suffered from want and from the diseases produced by want, rather than go back to vicious courses.