me, that it is needful that justice should come from judges. It is
clear that they are interested in finding guilty the man whom they at
first suspected. _Esprit de corps_, so strong among them, pushes them
to it, and so you may see throughout their procedure how they brush
aside the defence as importunate, and only allow it a hearing when
the prosecution has donned its arms and composed its countenance, and
has, in fact, contrived to assume the air of the Goddess of Wisdom. By
professional feeling they are inclined to see guilt in every accused
person, and their zeal appears so alarming to certain European nations
that, in important cases, they give them the help of twelve men, drawn
by lot. Whereby, it appears, blind chance is a better guarantee of the
life and liberty of the accused than can be the enlightened conscience
of a judge. It is true, however, that these bourgeois magistrates,
drawn by lot, are kept out of the affair, of which they see but the
outside pomp and show. And it is also true that, ignorant of the
law, they are not called upon to apply it, but to decide merely, in
one word, whether it is a case for applying it. It is said that this
kind of assize results sometimes in absurdities, but that the nations
who have instituted it are attached to it as a kind of very precious
safeguard. I willingly believe that. And I understand their accepting
decrees given in such fashion, which may be inept or cruel, but at
least whose absurdity and barbarity cannot be imputed to one person,
so to speak. Iniquity seems bearable when it is incoherent enough to
appear involuntary.
“The little official of a moment ago, who had such a feeling for
justice, suspected me of taking the side of thieves and assassins. On
the contrary, I disapprove so strongly of theft and murder that I
cannot endure even the authorised copy of them by the law, and it is
painful to me to observe that judges have found no better way to punish
rogues and homicides than by imitating them; for in truth, Tournebroche
my son, what is fine or execution, save theft and murder, perpetrated
with majestic punctiliousness? And do you not see that, notwithstanding
all its splendour, our justice only attains to the shameful revenge
of evil for evil, misery for misery; and to the doubling of crimes
and sins for the sake of equilibrium and symmetry? It is possible,
in the carrying out of this duty, to exercise a certain probity and
disinterestedness. One may show oneself a l’Hospital as well as a
Jeffreys, and for my part I know a magistrate who is an honest fellow
enough. But to return to the principle of the thing, I have wanted to
show the true character of an institution which the pride of the judges
and the terror of the people, vying with each other, have clothed in
borrowed majesty. I have wanted to show the humble origin of these
codes they wish to make august, and which are in reality but an odd
heap of expedients.
“Alas! laws emanate from man; a poor and miserable origin. They are
mostly born of occasion. Ignorance, superstition, the pride of princes,
the interests of the legislator, caprice, fantasy—these are the sources
of the great body of the law, which becomes worthy of veneration
when it is no longer intelligible. This obscurity that envelops it,
thickened by the commentators, gives it the majesty of the oracles of
old. I hear on all sides, and I read in every paper, that nowadays we
make laws fitting for the circumstance and the occasion. That is the
view of the short-sighted, who fail to see that it is but following an
immemorial custom, and that in all times laws have resulted from some
chance thing. We complain also of the obscurity and contradiction into
which legislators continually fall. And we fail to note that their
predecessors were equally dense and confused.
“In actual fact, Tournebroche my son, laws are good or bad less
by their nature than in the way we use them, and such and such a
provision, extremely wicked though it be, does no harm if the judge
does not put it into force. Custom is stronger than law. Refinement of
manners, gentleness of mind, are the only remedies one can reasonably
bring for legal barbarity. For to correct laws by laws is to take
a lengthy and uncertain road. Centuries alone undo the work of
centuries. There is little hope that a French Numa will meet one day
in the forest of Compiègne, or among the rocks of Fontainebleau, with
another nymph Egeria, who shall dictate wise laws to him.”
He gazed for long on the hills which showed blue on the horizon. His
air was grave and sad. Then, laying his hand gently on my shoulder, he
spoke to me in accents so profound that I was touched to the depths of
my soul. He said:
“Tournebroche, my son, you see me, all at once, wavering and
embarrassed, stammering and stupid, at the mere notion of correcting
what I find detestable. Do not think this timidity of mind. Nothing may
give pause to the audacity of my thought. But note well, my son, what
I now say to you. Truths, detected by the intelligence, will for ever
remain sterile. The heart alone can fertilise its dreams. It pours the
water of life on all it loves. Seeds of good are sown in the world by
the feelings. Reason has no such virtue. And I confess that up to now
I have been too reasonable in my criticism of laws and manners. And so
this judgment will fall without fruit, and wither as a tree bitten by
April frosts. To help mankind one must throw aside all reason as an
encumbrance, and rise on the wings of enthusiasm. So long as we reason
we shall never soar.”
Transcriber’s Note:
Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have
been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.