And what, Mr. Idler, do you suppose those heartless wretches who composed that literary society had done to my innocent and harmless husband? Not content with having him read his verses, they had insisted that he explain them! And he, poor weak man that he was, yielded to the unhappy vanity which is the birthright of all poets, and had attempted to comply with their request. The result you already know. His mind was completely overturned. He has spent the time since that dreadful evening in dictating to an imaginary stenographer a critical appreciation of each rhyme in Mother Goose. Only once has he attempted anything in the way of original poetry, which I hastened to jot down in shorthand, and which was so puerile, so empty of all meaning, that I could not forbear to weep heartbrokenly as I transcribed my notes.
Now, Mr. Idler, what redress have I against those inhuman creatures, those compassionless brutes, who brought my husband to this pass? Can I sue them in a court of law? Or must I bear without compensation the dreadful sorrow which has befallen me? I beg of you, advise me at once, as I do not know which way to turn.
I am, Sir, distractedly yours,
Bedelia Bardlet.
P. S.—All is come right after all, Mr. Idler. After writing you the above, yesterday morning, I determined to make one more desperate trial. I took around to an editor the one original poem, of which I spoke, which my husband had dictated in his madness. That editor has just called me on the telephone to say that the poem will be printed in the next number of his magazine, and that he finds it by far the best that my husband has ever submitted. And so, please God, it may turn out that his misfortune will prove to be a blessing in disguise.
THE LOCK-STEP
To the Editor of The Idler.
Dear Sir: Thackeray once said: “Every one knows what harm the bad may do, but who knows the mischief done by the good?” It appears to me that there is a valuable suggestion in this query which merits the consideration of all men who live under a civilized government, and especially the attention of young men who are about to enter upon the serious business of life. Young people, being by nature somewhat lacking in logic, are prone to consider everything that is good per se as a thing which must necessarily be good in its effect, and similarly to class all thing which are bad in themselves as bad in their effects. Nothing could be more erroneous than this assumption. There is no man who will maintain that a beating is a thing which is good in itself; yet I am old-fashioned enough to believe that many a beating has been very salutary in its effect. Early in life, I fell into this common error of confusing the inherent quality of an act with the quality of its effect, and it is in the hope that I may save some worthy young man the miseries resulting from such an error that I am writing this letter.
As Mr. James Coolidge Carter points out in his book, Law: Its Origin, Growth and Function, and as Blackstone and others pointed out before him, all law originates in custom. As a custom becomes general—so general as to be termed the common custom among a given people—it is usually enacted as law. And even where such legislative sanction is wanting, a general custom takes on the force of law and operates as law, as is the case with the great body of the common law of England. Thus, a custom, which in the beginning all are free to adopt or to reject as they may see fit, eventually acquires the force of a rule to which all are obliged to conform, whether from strict legal necessity or merely by force of public opinion.
The law, theoretically at least and actually in most cases, is merely the expression of a public sentiment. It is the constant tendency of all uniform and generally prevalent customs and opinions to take on the form of law. The general disapproval of profanity, for instance, results in laws providing penalties for the use of profane language in public places. Practically all ordinances may be traced to the same source of public sentiment. Not all laws, however, represent the will of the majority. Certain of our laws are representative of the general opinion of all mankind, others of the sentiments of a majority of mankind, and still others of the ideas and prejudices of an active minority. To the extent that such habits, ideas, customs, opinions and prejudices become crystallized into law, the members of a community become enslaved to those habits, ideas, customs, opinions and prejudices; since a departure from them is followed by penalties and punishments. And there are some customs which, while not actually laws, exert quite as strong an influence upon the average citizen as the duly enacted statutes. The fear of social ostracism is often quite as effective a check upon the inclinations of an individual as the fear of legal punishment.