Art. V.—UNCERTAINTY OF CONVICTION AND PUNISHMENT.
Among the considerations which (we may suppose) exert the chief influence in prompting a man to crime, or in deterring him from it, we must regard the probability of detection and punishment, as by no means the least. Not that a man who is about to commit a crime considers very scrupulously either what measure of punishment is affixed to a certain shade of crime, or what are the chances for escaping detection; but there is a general conviction abroad in all communities on these subjects, engendered by observing from time to time the proportion of criminal acts that escape detection, and the proportion of criminal actors that evade merited punishment; and this general impression influences evil-disposed persons quite as much as any other class. Hence when the idea prevails that the chances are quite even, in favor of escaping detection, or that if detected, the chances are quite equal, that the threatened punishment may be evaded, there will be of course a proportionate relaxation of restraining influence upon criminal propensities. Let two or three children in a family succeed in a plan of disobedience in several instances, which are not detected, or let the prescribed punishment be withheld from a few offences that are clearly made out, and mischievous effects will soon become evident.
Perhaps some of our readers have never taken the trouble to survey the stages through which a criminal process must be conducted, and the embarrassments which attend it.
Besides the reluctance to prosecute, and thus expose one’s-self to a very undesirable notoriety, and incur the enmity, and possibly kindle the resentments of a malevolent and reckless heart, there is, in the country-districts, an inefficiency of police arrangements, of which an accomplished rogue well knows how to take advantage.
The avenues for escape are so various, and the methods of communication (aside from telegraph lines) so uncertain and infrequent, that the most wary police force is not seldom put to its wit’s end. In the country districts a young thief or burglar can obtain considerable practice in his profession before there is stir enough to prompt to his arrest. If a hen roost or garden or orchard is robbed, the owner prefers to put up with his loss, rather than be at the trouble to ferret out the rogue, and after all be defeated. The manufacturer or trader who is defrauded by a dishonest clerk, quietly dismisses the offender, and leaves it for his next employer to find out the lad’s character for himself. The course of reasoning is substantially this: The rogue will never have a chance to play his game with me again. Perhaps this disclosure of his criminal propensities may be the means of inducing him to reform; I do not wish to be the instrument of blasting his character and prospects, and bringing distress and reproach on his innocent family. Besides, I have not much faith in imprisonment as a means of reformation or discipline. So, on the whole, I will pocket my loss and send the culprit to seek his fortune—by hook or by crook, as he lists. Many a finished rogue is indebted for his proficiency in crime to this humane-looking selfishness or morbid benevolence.
It is probably this general indisposition in private individuals to incur the risk and trouble of prosecuting offences, that has led to the establishment of associations for the purpose—such as societies for the detection and prosecution of horse-thieves, counterfeiters, &c., of which there are said to be not less than five hundred in the counties of England and Wales. It has been said that the existence of such societies is a proof that the State has abdicated its functions in this respect, and that posterity will refer to them as evidence of the imperfection of our present social condition, and of the misconception on the part of the State of its primary duties.
But suppose a culprit is detected and prosecuted, what is the probability of his conviction. We have not the means to determine what it is in the United States, but out of 26,813 persons committed for trial in England in 1850, 6,238, or about one in four escaped conviction! Indeed, the number acquitted by the verdict of a jury in 1850, exceeded the whole number committed in 1810. The proportion of acquittals is probably far greater in our country.
But if conviction is secured, there is still a wide range in the measure of punishment. Even in the compact and uniform administration of English law, the punishments for the same offences vary almost indefinitely,—a verdict for manslaughter, for example, may be followed by a sentence of transportation for life or imprisonment for an hour! In our score or two of independent sovereignties, this diversity of punishment for similar offences is much greater, and as every man is disposed to expect indulgence towards himself, the lightest punishment is expected, and a severe one is regarded as cruel and tyrannical.
The uncertainty to which we have referred, has been justly regarded as a provocation to crime.
Those who feel tempted to transgress the laws must be supposed to make some sort of calculation as to the risk they will run. If they perceive that the advantage of a criminal course is more certain than its punishment—or, at least, if it appears so to them—they will pursue the course of their inclinations. But if the punishment, however slight, were indissolubly associated with the notion of the offence, the latter would be rarely committed. If the punishment merely consisted, as Bentham says, in taking from the offender the fruits of his crime and that punishment were certain, no more such crimes would be committed; for no man would be so foolish as to commit them. But, as there are so many chances of escape, it is necessary to make punishments more severe than if they oftener followed the offence. No measures, therefore, can be more humane than such as tend to attach certainty of punishment to crime, because, just in proportion as that certainty is increased, the severity of the penalty may be diminished. Hence also it further appears that the due proportion and immediate connection between crimes and their punishment are points likely to have great weight with criminals; because the great body of offences being larcenies, and perpetrated from cupidity and not from passion, the thief will soon abstain from plunder, and the forger from his counterfeit art, when common sense calmly whispers that he will lose and not gain by the transaction.
The million (says a late writer) derive their impressions of legal obligations by experience of it in the persons of others, if not of themselves. They have no instruction in the principles of jurisprudence, or of ethics; no access to tuition, either oral or written, on subjects like these. Their estimate of the criminality of excessive self-indulgence is formed by its visible effects. They restrain an intemperate propensity because they see the drunkard revelling in misery, or the thief carried away in handcuffs to the cells of a prison. Such plain matter-of-fact lessons as these are sufficiently intelligible, and their impressiveness ought not to be diluted.
In a late English Magazine it is stated that of thirty-seven persons sentenced to death in the year, eight only were executed; the sentences of the rest being commuted. In commenting on this fact, the writer says:
We are far from regretting that those thirty-seven capital sentences were not carried into effect; but we lament that some clearer distinction should not be made between homicides of different degrees of aggravation; so that, instead of charging cases as murder in which neither the jury would convict nor the Government execute the accused, that awful charge and high solemnity might be reserved for those black deeds in which the charge, and the conviction, and the execution, are almost certain to follow each other. If we ultimately retain capital punishment in our code, the limitation of the charge of murder which we have suggested will cause the notion of deliberate murder and the scaffold to be associated together in men’s minds. They are not so associated at present; for, besides the chances of escaping conviction, it is notorious that condemned convicts rarely abandon hope even to the very last. Let us strive to get rid of the mockery of pronouncing solemn sentences of death in cases which are unfit for execution. The impression made by such scenes is the very reverse of what it is intended to produce. When soldiers fire over the heads of a turbulent mob, or the schoolmaster scatters threats which his rod fails to fulfil, or the law awards punishments which public opinion forbids it to execute, derision and contempt are the consequences.
We incline to the belief that the most important and effective step which can be taken at this time by the Legislature of Pennsylvania, for the improvement of her penitentiary system, is to adapt the penalty of the law more nearly to the nature of the crime—reduce the terms of imprisonment to the lowest measure that can consist with the ends of its infliction, and then increase, in the highest degree, the facilities for the prompt detection of offenders, and the certainty of their suffering the unmitigated penalty of their crimes. It is our settled conviction, that a course of legislation which should virtually secure these results, would at once reduce the number and boldness of criminals at least fifty per cent—probably much more.
We urge this reform in the provisions and administration of our penal laws as eminently humane, for to whatever degree we reduce the amount of crime by increasing the certainty of conviction and punishment, to the same degree we promote the safety and happiness of the community.
For reasons somewhat analogous, we would also urge the propriety of bringing the utterance and the execution of the sentence of the law into the closest proximity in point of time, which can consist with propriety and humanity. We do not mean by this that the convict should be hurried from the dock to the gibbet or the cell, as if public justice were greedy to assert its sanctions; but simply, that no such length of time should intervene between conviction and punishment as shall allow their natural relation to each other to be lost sight of, or but dimly seen. In the divine government, which knows no limit of time or space, sentence against an evil work is not rendered uncertain by delay, and yet we have the highest warrant for saying that “because it is not executed speedily, the hearts of the sons of men are fully set in them to do evil.”
A foul and terrific murder has been committed—public feeling is excited to a high degree—every agency in the power of the government is put in requisition to detect the perpetrator and bring him to justice—no pains, stratagem or expense are spared to accomplish this end—perchance two or three false arrests are made—the ardor of pursuit is abated—and some new outrage or calamity catches the eye, and diverts the attention of the public. By and by a new direction is given to the original inquiry by some incidental circumstances, or it may be the result of a circuitous process of the police officers. The monster is discovered and arrested. But the horror with which the crime filled the public mind when it was first brought to light, has past away, and can by no means be re-excited. The victim of malice or wanton cruelty is six feet under ground. Sympathies with a surviving family have had their time and place, and are dismissed; and now the perpetrator of the bloody deed is arraigned.
Is there not a strong feeling of reluctance to have the tragical scene all re-enacted upon the theatre of a court room? Do not the sympathies, which a little while since followed the murdered man to the grave and his family and friends to their various homes, now strangely find their way into the prisoner’s dock, and plead for a suspension of the sword of justice? We would not favor the least relaxation of those rules of proceeding in criminal prosecutions, by which the life, liberty and reputation of the accused are protected. Let nothing be presumed against him. Let every thing be presumed in his favor till all such presumption is forbidden by conclusive evidence of guilt. The tables should then be turned. There are now new claims to be met. The community has patiently awaited the tardy movements of the constituted authorities. While it was uncertain who had forfeited the privileges of a citizen and, by a violation of the law, incurred its just penalty, the sword of justice was held in suspense. But now, the guilt being fixed and the perpetrator of the wrong being singled out, there should be heard among honest and law-abiding men but one voice—LET IT FALL!
Attempts to avert the blow are not in aid, but in delay of justice. Exceptions to the opinion of the court—motions in arrest of judgment, or for a new trial, are in most instances, regarded by the popular mind as so many ingenious attempts of the sworn ministers of the law, to open loop-holes of escape for the guilty. When a man stands before the country convicted, in due course of law, of a wilful and deliberate murder, and when public sentiment is so strong against him, that nothing but the fear or love of the powers that be, protects the culprit from a summary execution by mob-violence; it seems like trifling (and to the mass of men it is trifling) to make the omission of the dot over an i, or the interlineation of a word in the record, or the omission to ask the convict “if he had any thing to say why sentence should not be pronounced against him,” or any similar clerical error or neglect, a reason for still further delay, or the basis of an argument for annulling the whole proceeding.
We shall not be misunderstood. We are not ignorant of the necessity of forms, nor of the wide door which is opened for abuses by the neglect of them. We would be the last to deprive a culprit of a single right or privilege which the law allows him. But he is not the only party in interest. Honest men and law-abiding citizens have rights and privileges which are also to be respected. When professional ingenuity is tasked to discover some shift or subterfuge by which the results of a conviction can be avoided, and the ends of public justice defeated; the impression made on the public mind is, that the criminal is defending himself against the vindictive aim of the government. Instead of appearing like a thief who is convicted, and is dodging every way to elude his pursuers; he is looked upon as a stag hunted by hounds, and panting in the last effort to escape their devouring gripe. Our doctrine is, that the laws should be so framed and so executed, that their ministers should always be a terror to evil doers, and a praise to them that do well. As it is now, the tendency of many of the most solemn public proceedings under them, is to bring them and their administrators into contempt and derision.