THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT.
Marco took dinner that day at the tavern alone, and, after dinner, he
carried a cup of tea to Forester,--but Forester was asleep, and so he
did not disturb him.
In the afternoon he went out to play. He amused himself, for half an
hour, in rambling about the tavern yards and in the stables. There was a
ferocious-looking bull in one of the yards, chained to a post, by means
of a ring through his nose. Marco looked at the bull a few minutes with
great interest, and then began to look about for a long stick, or a
pole, to poke him a little, through the fence, to see if he could not
make him roar, when, instead of a pole, his eye fell upon a boy, who was
at work, digging in a corner of a field near, behind the barn.
The boy's name was Jeremiah. He was digging for worms for bait. He was
going a fishing. Marco determined to go with him.
Jeremiah furnished Marco with a hook and a piece of sheet lead to make a
sinker of, and Marco had some twine in his pocket already; so that he
was soon fitted with a line. But he had no pole. Jeremiah said that he
could cut one, on his way down to the river, as they would pass through
a piece of woods which had plenty of tall and slender young trees in it.
He succeeded in getting a pole in this manner, which answered very well;
and then he and Jeremiah went down to the river. They stood upon a log
on the shore, and caught several small fishes, but they got none of much
value, for nearly half an hour. At last, Jeremiah, who was standing at a
little distance from Marco, suddenly exclaimed:
"Oh, here comes a monstrous great perch. He is coming directly towards
my hook."
"Where? where?" exclaimed Marco. And Marco immediately drew out his hook
from the place where he had been fishing, and walked along to the log on
which Jeremiah was standing.
"Where is he?" said Marco, looking eagerly into the water.
"Hush!" said Jeremiah; "don't say a word. There he is, swimming along
towards my hook."
"Yes," said Marco, "I see him. Now he's turning away a little. Let me
put my line in, too."
Marco extended his pole and dropped his hook gently into the water. He
let it down until it was near the perch. The poor fish, after loitering
about a minute, gradually approached Marco's hook and bit at it.
Jeremiah, seeing that he was in danger of losing his fish, now called
out to Marco to take his line out. "It is not fair," said he, "for you
to come and take my fish, just as he was going to bite at my hook. Go
away."
But it was too late. As Jeremiah was saying these words, the fish bit,
and Marco, drawing up the line, found the fish upon the end of it. As
the line came in, however, Jeremiah reached out his hand to seize the
fish, and Marco, to prevent him, dropped the pole and endeavored to
seize it too.
"Let go my fish," said Jeremiah.
"Let alone my line," said Marco.
Neither would let go. A struggle ensued, and Marco and Jeremiah, in the
midst of it, fell off into the water. The water was not very deep, and
they soon clambered up upon the log again, but the fish, which had been
pulled off the line in the contention, fell into the water, and swam
swiftly away into the deep and dark parts of the water, and was seen no
more. He was saved by the quarrels of his enemies.
Marco, who was not so much accustomed to a wetting as Jeremiah was,
became very angry, and immediately set off to go home to the tavern.
Jeremiah coolly resumed his position on the log, and went to fishing
again, paying no heed to Marco's expressions of resentment.
Marco walked along, very uncomfortable both in body and mind. His
clothes were wet and muddy, and the water in his shoes made a chuckling
sound at every step, until he stopped and took his shoes off, and
poured the water out. It was nearly sunset when he reached the tavern.
He found Forester better. He had left his bed, and had come down into
the parlor. He was reclining on the sofa, reading a book, when Marco
came in.
Marco advanced towards him, and began to make bitter complaints against
Jeremiah. In giving an account of the affair, he omitted all that part
of the transaction which made against himself. He said nothing, for
instance, about his coming to put his line in where Jeremiah was
fishing, and while a fish was actually near Jeremiah's hook, but only
said that he caught a fish, and that Jeremiah came and took it away.
"But what claim had Jeremiah to the fish?" asked Forester.
"He had no claim at all," said Marco.
"You mean, he had no _right_ at all," said Forester.
"Yes," said Marco.
"He had a _claim_, certainly," rejoined Forester; "that is, he claimed
the fish. He _pretended_ that it was his. Now, on what was this claim or
pretence founded?"
"I don't know," said Marco, "I am sure. I only know he had no right to
it, for I caught the fish myself, and he was going to take it away."
Forester paused a moment, and then resumed:
"I don't think that you have given me a full and fair account of the
transaction; for I cannot believe that Jeremiah would have come and
taken away the fish without any pretext whatever. You must have omitted
some important part of the account, I think."
Marco then told Forester that Jeremiah said that the fish was just going
to bite at his hook; and, after several other questions from Forester,
he gradually acknowledged the whole truth. Still, he maintained that it
was his fish. He had a right to put in his line, he said, wherever he
pleased, whether another boy was fishing or not; the fish belonged to
the one who caught him; and, before he was caught, he did not belong to
anybody. It was absurd, he maintained, to suppose that the fish became
Jeremiah's, just because he was swimming near his hook.
"Sometimes one can judge better of a case," said Forester, "by reversing
the condition of the parties. Suppose that you had been fishing, and a
large fish had come swimming about your hook, and that Jeremiah had then
come to put his hook in at the same place, should you have thought it
right?"
"Why, I don't know," said Marco.
"It is doubtful. Now, it is an excellent rule," continued Forester, "in
all questions of right between ourselves and other persons, for us to
give them _the benefit of the doubt_."
"What does that mean?" asked Marco.
"Why, if a man is tried in a court for any crime," replied Forester, "if
it is clearly proved that he is innocent, of course he goes free. If it
is clearly proved that he is guilty, he is convicted. But if neither the
one nor the other can be proved, that is, if it is doubtful whether he
is innocent or guilty, they give him the benefit of the doubt, as they
term it, and let him go free."
"I should think that, when it is doubtful," said Marco, "they ought to
send him back to prison again till they can find out certainly."
"No," said Forester, "the jury are directed to acquit him, unless it is
positively proved that he is guilty. So that, if they think it is
doubtful, they give him the benefit of the doubt, and let him go free.
Now, in all questions of property between ourselves and others, we
should all be willing to give to others the benefit of the doubt, and
then the disputes would be very easily settled, or rather, disputes
would never arise. In this case, for instance, it is doubtful whether
you had a right to come and interfere while the fish was near his hook;
it is doubtful whether he did or did not have a sort of right to try to
catch the fish, without your interfering; and you ought to have been
willing to have given him the benefit of the doubt, and so have staid
away, or have given up the fish to him after you had caught it."
"But I don't see," said Marco, "why he should not have been willing to
have given me the benefit of the doubt, as well as I to have given it to
him."
"Certainly," said Forester; "Jeremiah ought to have considered that
there was a doubt whether he was entitled to the fish or not, and to
have been willing to have given you the benefit of the doubt; and so
have let you kept the fish. Each, in such a case, ought to be willing to
give up to the other."
"And then which of us should have it?" asked Marco.
"Why, it generally happens," said Forester, in reply, "that only one of
the parties adopts this principle, and so he yields to the other; but if
both adopt it, then there is sometimes a little discussion, each
insisting on giving up to the other. But such a dispute is a friendly
dispute, not a hostile one, and it is very easily settled."
"A friendly dispute!" exclaimed Marco; "I never heard of such a thing."
"Yes," said Forester. "Suppose, for instance, that, when you had caught
your fish, you had said, 'There, Jeremiah, that fish is yours; he was
coming up to your hook, and would have bitten at it if I had not put my
line in;' and, then, if Jeremiah had said, 'No, it is not mine; it is
yours, for you caught it with your hook;' this would have been a
friendly dispute. It would have been very easily settled."
"I am sorry that I left my pole down at the river," said Marco. "I cut a
most excellent pole in the woods, on my way down, and I left it there
across the log. I mean to go down and get it early in the morning."
"No," said Forester; "we must be on our way up the river early to-morrow
morning."
"How shall we go?" asked Marco.
"I have engaged a wagon here to take us to Bath, and there we shall find
a stage."
Accordingly, early the next morning, Forester and Marco got into a wagon
to go up the river to Bath, which is the first town of any considerable
consequence which you meet in ascending the Kennebec river. Marco and
Forester sat on the seat of the wagon, and a boy, who was going with
them for the purpose of bringing the wagon back, sat behind, on a box,
which had been put in to make a seat for him.
Marco said that he was very sorry that he had not time to go and get his
fishing-pole.
"It would not do any good," said Forester, "for you could not carry it."
"Why, yes," said Marco, "we might put it on the bottom of the wagon, and
let the end run out behind. It is pretty long."
"True," said Forester, "we might possibly get it to Bath, but what
should we do with it then?"
"Why, then," said Marco, "we might put it on the top of the stage, I
suppose. Would not they let us?"
"It would not be very convenient to carry a long fishing-pole, in that
way, to Quebec," replied Forester, "through woods, too, half of the way,
full of such poles. You might stop and get a cane or staff, if we find
a place where there are some good ones. A cane would be of some service
to you in walking up the hills, and that could be taken along with our
baggage easily."
Marco said that he should like this plan very much; and, as they rode
along, they looked out carefully for a place where there were slender
saplings growing, suitable for canes.
"What kind of wood would you have?" asked Forester.
"I don't know," replied Marco; "which kind is the best?"
"The different woods have different qualities," replied Forester. "Some
are light and soft, which are good qualities for certain purposes. Some
are hard. Some are stiff, and some flexible. Some are brittle, and
others tough. For a cane, now, do we want a hard wood or a soft one?"
"Hard," said Marco.
"Why?" asked Forester.
"Oh, so that it shall not get indented or bruised easily," replied
Marco.
"A light wood or a heavy one?" asked Forester.
"Light," replied Marco, "so that it will be easy to carry."
"Stiff or flexible?" asked Forester.
"Stiff," replied Marco.
"Yes," said Forester. "Some kinds of wood grow straight, and others
crooked."
"We want it straight," said Marco.
"Yes," replied Forester. "The pine grows very straight. If we could find
some young pines, they would make us some beautiful-looking canes."
"And how is it with the other qualities?" asked Marco.
"Pine is very light," said Forester.
"That is good," said Marco.
"And _soft_," said Forester.
"That is not so well," said Marco.
"And it is very weak and brittle."
"Then it will not do at all," said Marco. "I want a good strong cane."
Just at this time, they were ascending a hill, and, after passing over
the summit of it, they came to a place where Forester said he saw, in
the woods, a number of young oaks and beeches, which, he said, would
make good canes. The oak, he said, was very strong, and hard, and tough;
so was the beech.
"Only there are two objections to them for canes," said Forester, as
they were getting out of the wagon; "they are not so light as the pine,
and then, besides, they are apt to grow crooked. We must look about
carefully to find some that are straight."
"Which is the most valuable of all the kinds of wood?" asked Marco.
"The question is ambiguous," said Forester.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Marco.
"I mean, that it has two significations," replied Forester; "that is,
the word valuable has two significations. Pine is the most valuable in
one sense; that is, pine is, on the whole, most useful to mankind. But
there are other kinds of wood which are far more costly."
"I should not think that pine would be so valuable," said Marco, "it is
so weak and brittle."
"It is valuable," said Forester, "because, for the purpose for which men
want the greatest quantities of wood, strength is not required. For
boarding the outsides of buildings, for example, and finishing them
within, which uses, perhaps, consume more wood than all others put
together, no great strength is required."
"I think people want more wood to _burn_ than to build houses with,"
said Marco.
"Yes," said Forester, "perhaps they do. They do in this country, I
think, but perhaps not in Europe and other old countries. But pine,
although it has no great strength, is an excellent wood for building, it
is so soft and easily worked."
Forester's remarks, upon the different kinds of wood, were here
interrupted by Marco's finding what he considered an excellent stick for
a cane. When he had cut it, however, he found that it was not so
straight as it had appeared to be while growing.
However, after some time spent in the selection, Marco and Forester both
procured excellent canes.
"This is good, hard wood," said Marco, as he was trimming his cane, and
cutting it to a proper length.
[Illustration]
"Yes," said Forester; "it is beech, and beech is very hard."
After finishing their canes, they took their seats in the wagon again.