applied to his stealing. He tried it, and at first
succeeded; the deluded victims of all gambling, whether in the Exchange
or in gambling hells, are pretty sure of success at first; and so they
are enticed to higher ventures. Now he might have returned the
ill-gotten money, and at least have saved his reputation. But no! the
gambling passion was now aroused, and he felt sure he could soon realize
enough to make him easy. He tried again and for a larger sum and _lost_.

"And so he went on until he was tangled inextricably in the net, and
felt that he was a rascal, and a lost, not a successful one. Remorse
seized him, but not repentance; for still he went on in his guilt.
Indeed, he was more reckless than ever, struggling to get out of the
meshes. Gay to excess at times, then gloomy; his temper became unequal,
and to drown reflection he sometimes drank to excess. He was a ruined
man--ruined _before_ exposure, for that only opened the eyes of
others--his own down-fall had already taken place.

"I am told that when the proofs of his guilt were laid before him, and
his confession was made, his pleadings for mercy were most pitiful.
Stewart & Gamble had a stern sense of justice, and their indignation was
in proportion to their former confidence. They were determined that he
should not escape, and that, not so much from personal vengeance as
because they thought it wrong to interfere with laws due and wholesome
in themselves, and necessary to deter others from evil doing. He was
committed to prison, a trial took place, and poor Willing was sentenced
to five years in the penitentiary.

"When he first stood up for trial, he Was alone; all the friends of his
prosperity had forsaken him. He was thoroughly stricken down, abashed,
shame-faced, not lifting his eyes to the crowd in court; and no one of
his intimates care to claim acquaintance with a felon. I could not hold
back; much as I hated the crime, I could not hate the criminal. My
schoolmate, my playfellow, stood there, alone, forsaken, despised;
crushed to the ground, ready to despair. I went to him, gave my hand and
stayed, while his case was up. Never shall I forget the look of mingled
gratitude and hopelessness in his haggard eyes which had scarcely known
sleep since his disgrace.

"O, it is well to be just! No doubt of that. The law should be
sustained, and no sentimental pity should interfere. We must not condone
crime, or the very object of law and penalty will be a