Now, upon this same point I say that if the scheme has not been established by the evidence, the case fails, no matter what the proof. The offence must not only be proved as charged, but it must be charged as proved, doubling the statement for the sake of doubling the idea of accuracy. That is in Archibald's Criminal Pleadings, American edition, page 36. The same thing is held in First Chitty's Criminal Law, 213. I also refer to the case of King against Walker, 3d Campbell, 264; King vs. Robinson, 1st Hope's Nisi Prius Reports, 595. I have the books here, but I will not take up the time of this Court in reading them.
Now, if I am right, that is the language of that indictment. The overt acts with the leaves are gone; the scheme with the branch and trunk are gone. They prove no such scheme, they prove no such division.
I will now proceed to examine the alleged evidence against my clients, Stephen W. and John W. Dorsey, and I want to say right in the commencement that suspicion is not evidence. You charge that a couple of persons conspired. That they met about nine o'clock on the shadowy side of the street.
A suspicious circumstance. Why did they not get under the lamp? They were seen together once more, and the moment a man came up they walked off. Guilty. They ran. And out of these idiotic suspicions that never would have entered the mind, except for the reason that the persons were charged, hundreds of people begin to say, "There is something in it. They met four or five times. One of them wrote a letter to the other, and so help me God it was not dated." Another suspicious circumstance. "There was a heading on the paper. It was not the number of his office." So they work it up, and ignorance begins to stare, and wonder to open its mouth, and finally prejudice finds a verdict.
Suspicion, gentlemen, is not evidence. You want to go at this with this idea. Whatever a man does, the presumption is it is an honest act until the contrary is shown. These men wrote letters. They had a right to do it. They met. They had a right to meet. They entered into contracts. They had a right to do it, no matter whether they were dated or not dated. One of the greatest judges of England said if you let out of the greatest man's brains all the suspicions, all the rumors, all the mistakes, and all the nonsense, the amount of pure knowledge left would be extremely small. If you take out of this case all the suspicions, all the guesses, all the rumors, all the epithets, all the arrogant declarations, the amount of real evidence would be surprisingly small.
Now, I want to try this case that way. I do not want to try it by prejudice. Prejudice is born of ignorance and malice. One of the greatest men of this country said prejudice is the spider of the mind. It weaves its web over every window and over every crevice where light can enter, and then disputes the existence of the light that it has excluded. That is prejudice. Prejudice will give the lie to all the other senses. It will swear the northern star out of the sky of truth. You must avoid it. It is the womb of injustice, and a man who cannot rise above prejudice is not a civilized man; he is simply a barbarian. I do not want this case tried on prejudice. Prejudice will shut its eyes against the light. I want you to try it without that.
And right here, although it is a subject about which most courts are a little tender, the question arises as to the jury being judges of the law and fact. One of the attorneys for the Government, Mr. Merrick, told us that at one time he insisted that the jury was the judge of the law, and made this remarkable declaration:
"But even at the time I spoke the words to the jury I did not believe them to be indicative of safe and true principles of law."
Was he candid then? Is he candid now? I do not know. But his doctrine appears to be this: "When I am afraid of the court I insist on the jury judging the law. When I am afraid of the jury I turn the law over to the court. But in this case, having confidence in both judge and jury, it is wholly immaterial to me how the question is decided."
Now, if it please the Court, I believe the law to be simply this: I believe the jury to be absolute judges of the facts, and yet if on the facts they find a man guilty whom the court thinks is not guilty, the court will grant a new trial. The court has the power to set aside a verdict because the jury find contrary to the evidence. The court cannot do it, however, when the jury finds a verdict of not guilty. I do not believe that the jury have a right to disregard the law from the court unless a juryman upon his oath can say that he believes, he knows, or is satisfied that is not the law; and he must be honest in that, and he must not be acting upon caprice. He must be absolutely honest. He must be in that condition of mind that to follow the law pointed out by the court would trample upon his conscience, and that he has not the right to do. That is all the distance I go.