COMMITTING A CRIME

Southland Times, Issue 22073, 21 July 1933, Page 5

COMMITTING A CRIME

STRAIN ON THE CONSCIENCE. A PRISONER’S APPEAL. Wellington, July 18. To some at least it may be news that the act of committing a crime imposes a strain on the conscience, and furthermore that the process in itself is trying to the nerves. This information comes direct from a prisoner at present serving a sentence of two years’ imprisonment with hard labour, to be followed by three years’ reformative detention on 10 charges involving breaking and entering, and is contained in one of the applications for leave to appeal against his sentence presented for consideration at the last sitting of the Court of Appeal (states a message to the Otago Daily Times). At each of the sittings of the court, which are held three times in each year, applications from prisoners for leave to appeal against their sentences are considered. Thirteen applications were submitted to the last sitting of the court, but in one case only was any variation of the Lower Court order made. These applications, written in gaol by the prisoners themselves, contain in some cases rather interesting passages, and one written by a man who found breaking the law a nerve-racking business is at least striking. “Imagine your humbled gaolbird a few short months' ago bedless, penniless, and jobless,” he wrote. “I was enthusiastic over a number of wild and exaggerated theories, socialistic in essence, which were briefly as follows: —I saw that here in New Zealand onetenth of the people held nine-tenths of the wealth, and that 50 per cent held no wealth at all. Being one of the latter group, I felt the hopelessness of my position. A felt a feeling of revolt toward the successful . -ies. I saw every day the beauty and comforts of wealth, the luxury and pleasures of opulence, but felt only the bitterness of want and the humiliation of poverty. I "rew to think that I was robbed of my birthright, and to think that I was justified in stealing to counterbalance theft and to supply my immediate wants. Then it grew to be a question of courage. I can assure you that committing a crime is a strain on the conscience, and is most trying to the nerves. My career as a criminal was about 30 days in duration, as the dates of my crimes will show, and I was truly repentant as soon as the constable shouted ‘Hey, you’ on the morning of March 13. “Various religious doctrines tell us that the Lord will grant remission to those who truly repent. I understand that the difficulty for the chief justices, judges, magistrates and prison boards is to attach credence to the assertions of the penitent. Surely there is no greater proof of penitence than open confession. My confessions condemned me. . I gave complete statements with regard to all my breaches of the law. I bought peace of mind at the expense of my liberty. lam pleased with the bargain. I can take my punishment without complaint, but I fail completely to see the necessity or the advisability of a period of reform for one who is reformed, for one in whom reformation in the direction you desire is complete. If you had an unruly colt, would it be your desire to tame him or to break him? That you can send men to prison is the least of your power. You hold the Aladdin’s lamp that transforms character. You can make men sullen and resentful. You can create that cheerful compliance that comes with gratitude, which atmosphere is as sunlight to the flowers when they send their first green shoots to welcome the tender break of spring, and further bloom leading to the fullness of loveliness to blend in perfect harmony with the beauty of the garden. But resentment is confining. Flowers de "M. grow in dungeons. Thev have proved betimes to be excellent for the breeding of vermin. “In finishing, I wish to strengthen my plea with this offer: If you gentlemen see fit to reduce my sentence I will devote myself from the day of my release to the date of the expiry of the. present term to reimbursing the various peoples I have robbed. I ask for consideration with due humility, realising that the judgments of the Chief Justice are not to be lightly discarded. I am, dear sirs, yours undoubtedly to the date you date.” The appeal was not allowed.

Those who had money to spare one day last week could have got rid of it in other ways besides going to Trentham (says the Wellington Evening Post). They could, for instance, have bought whitebait, for the first supplies of the season of this delicacy were on sale in some of the Wellington shops. Fancy prices were being asked for the contents of the four tins which had come from the Waikato, but prices will probably be lower when further supplies arrive. It will not be long before Foxton and the West Coast will be supplying the market too.