The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll, Vol. 10 (of 12) / Dresden Edition—Legal

by Robert Green Ingersoll

Now, then, there is another thing I want to keep before you. When a man has a little suspicion in his mind he tortures everything; he tortures the most innocent actions into the evidence of crime. Suspicion is a kind of intellectual dye that colors every thought that comes in contact with it. I remember I once had a conversation with Surgeon-General Hammond, in which he went on to state that he thought many people were confined in asylums, charged with insanity, who were perfectly sane. I asked him how he accounted for it. Said he, "Physicians are sent for to examine the man, and they are told before they get to him that he is crazy; therefore, the moment they look upon him they are hunting for insane acts and not sane acts; they are looking not to see how naturally he acts, but how unnaturally he acts." They are poisoned with the suspicion that he is insane, and if he coughs twice, or if he gets up and walks about uneasily—his mind is a little unsettled; something wrong! If he suddenly gets angry—sure thing! When a man believes himself to be or knows himself to be sane, and is charged with insanity, the very warmth, the very heat of his denial will convince thousands of people that he is insane. He suddenly finds himself insecure, and the very insecurity that he feels makes him act strangely. He finds in a moment that explanation only complicates. He finds that his denial is worthless; that his friends are suspicious, and that under pretence of his own good he is to be seized and incarcerated. Many a man as sane as you or I has under such circumstances gone to madness. It is a hard thing to explain. The more you talk about it the more outsiders having a suspicion are convinced that you are insane. It is much the same way when a man is charged with crime. It is heralded through all the papers, "this man is a robber and a thief." Why do they put it in the papers? Put anything good in a paper about Mr. Smith, and Mr. Smith is the only man who will buy it. Put in something bad about Mr. Smith and they will have to run the press nights to supply his neighbors with copies. The bad sells. The good does not. Then you must remember another thing: That these papers are large; some of them several hundred columns, for all I know—sixty or a hundred. Just imagine the pains it would take and the money it would cost to get facts enough to fill a paper like that. Economy will not permit of it. They publish what they imagine they can sell. As a rule, people would rather heaf-something bad than something good. It is a splendid certificate to our race that rascality is still considered news. If they only put in honest actions as news it would be a certificate that honesty was rare; but as long as they publish the bad as news it is a certificate that the majority of mankind is still good.

Now, to be charged with a crime and to be suddenly deserted by your friends, and to know that you are absolutely innocent, is almost enough to drive the sanest man mad. I want you to think what these defendants have suffered in these long months. If the men who started this prosecution, if the men who originally poisoned the press of the country, feel that they have been rewarded simply because innocent men have suffered agony, let them so feel. I do not envy them their feelings.

There is another thing, gentlemen: The prosecution have endeavored to terrorize this jury. The effort has been deliberately made to terrorize you and every one of you. It was plainly intimated by Mr. Ker that this jury had been touched, and that if you failed to convict, you would be suspected of having been bribed. That was an effort to terrorize you, and the foundation of that argument was a belief in your moral cowardice. No man would have made it to you unless he believed at heart you were cowards. What does that argument mean? I cannot say whether you will be suspected or not; but, in my opinion, a juror in the discharge of his duty has no right to think of any consequence personal to himself. That is the beauty of doing right. You need not think of anything else. The future will take care of itself. I do not agree with the suggestion that it is better that you should be applauded for a crime than blamed for a virtue. Suppose you should gain the applause of the whole United States by giving a false verdict; how would the echo of that applause strike your heart? I do not believe that it is wiser to preserve the appearance of being honest than to be honest with the appearance against you. I would rather be absolutely honest, and have everybody in the world think I was dishonest, than to be dishonest and have the whole world believe in my honesty. You see you have got to stay with yourself all the time. You have to be your own company, and to be compelled to know that your company is dishonest, that your company is infamous, is not pleasant. I would rather know I was honest and have the whole world put upon the forehead of my reputation the brand of rascality.

You were also told that the people generally have anticipated your verdict.

That is simply an effort to terrorize you, so that you will say, "If the people think that way, of course we must think that way. No matter about the evidence. No matter if we have sworn to do justice. We will all try and be popular." You were told in effect that the people were expecting a conviction, and the only inference is that you ought not to disappoint the public, and that it is your duty to piece and patch the testimony and violate your oath, rather than to disappoint the general expectation. Mr. Merrick told you you were trying these defendants, but that the people of the whole country were trying you. What was the object of that statement? Simply to terrorize this jury. What was the basis of that statement? Why, that not one of you have got the pluck to do right. It was not a compliment, gentlemen. It was intended for one, no doubt, but when you see where it was born, it becomes an insult. I do not believe you are going to care what the people say, or whether the people expect a verdict of guilty, or not. You have been told that they do. I might with equal propriety tell you that they do not. I might with equal propriety say there is not a man in this court-house who expects a verdict of guilty. With equal propriety I might say, and will say, that there is not a man on this jury who expects there will be a verdict of guilty. But what has that to do with us?

Try this case according to the evidence; and if you know that every man, woman, and child in the United States want an acquittal, and you are satisfied of the guilt of the defendants, it is your duty to find them guilty.

If I were on the jury I would, in the language of the greatest man that ever trod this earth—

Strip myself to death, as to a bed
That longing have been sick for, before I would give a false verdict.

Again, Mr. Merrick said, after having stated in effect that a majority of the people were convinced of the guilt of the defendants, that the majority of the men of the United States do not often think wrong. What was the object? To terrorize you. That is all. This verdict is to be carried by universal suffrage; you are to let the men who are not on oath decide for the men who are; to let the men who have not heard the testimony give the verdict of the men who have heard the testimony. What else? Again the same gentleman said:

"There is to be a verdict, a verdict of the people for or against us." What is the object? To frighten you. Let the people have their verdict; you must have yours. If your verdict is founded on the evidence it will be upheld by every honest man in the world who knows the evidence. You need certainly to place very little value upon the opinion of those who do not know the evidence. Mr. Merrick also suggested—I will hardly put it that way—he was brave enough to hope that you have not been bribed. Brave enough to hope that! All this, gentlemen, is done simply for the purpose of terrorizing you. I tell you to find a verdict according to the evidence, no matter whom it hits, no matter whom it destroys, no matter whom it kills. Save your own consciences alive. Your verdict must rest on the evidence that has been introduced, and all else must be thrown aside, disregarded, like forgotten dreams. All that you have read, all the press has printed, must find no lodgment in your brains. You must regard them no more than you would the noises of animals made in sleep. You must stand by the testimony. You must stand by the law that the Court gives you. That is all we ask. These articles in the newspapers were not printed in the hope that justice might be done. They were printed in the hope that you may be influenced to disregard the evidence, in the hope that finally slander might be justified by your verdict. Gentlemen, you ought to remember that in this case you are absolutely supreme. You have nothing to do with the supposed desires of any men, or the supposed desires of any department, or the supposed desires of any Government, or the supposed desires of any President, or the supposed desires of the public. You have nothing to do with those things. You have to do only with the evidence. Here all power is powerless except your own. Position is naught. If the defendants are guilty, and the evidence convinces you that they are, your verdict must be in accordance with the evidence. You have no right to take into consideration the consequences. When you are asked to find a verdict contrary to the evidence, when you are asked to piece out the testimony with your suspicions, then you are bound to take into consideration all the consequences. When appeals are made to your prejudice and to your fears, then the consequences should rise like mountains before you. Then you should think of the lives you are asked to wreck, of the homes your verdict would darken, of the hearts it would desolate, of the cheeks it would wet with tears, and of the reputations it would blast and blacken, of the wives it would worse than widow, and of the children it would more than orphan. When you are asked to find a false verdict think of these consesequences. When you are asked to please the public think of these consequences. When you are asked to please the press think of these consequences. When you are asked to act from fear, hatred, prejudice, malice, or cowardice think then of these consequences. But whenever you do right, consequences are nothing to you, because you are not responsible for them. Whoever does right clothes himself in a suit of armor that the arrows of consequences can never penetrate. When you do wrong you are responsible for all the consequences, to the last sigh and the last tear. If you do right nature is responsible. If you do wrong you are responsible.