PREFACE

IN this _fin-de-sîècle_ time, society has grown liberal, it is said,

and yet he who thrusts a lever under sage customs, or he who points out

the vice of institutions long established, may deem himself happy if he

be permitted to strip against the duellist rather than the mob. Even

if one come new into the courts of the _literati_ with a cloak dyed a

different hue from his fellows, he will scarcely have passed the doorway

ere the taunting challenge, “Do you fight, my lord?”

The author, in a previous volume entitled _The Strange Schemes of

Randolph Mason_, pointed out certain defects in the criminal law, and

demonstrated how the skilful rogue could commit not a few of the higher

crimes in such a manner as to render the law powerless to punish him.

The suggestion was, it seems, considered startling and the volume has

provoked large discussion. A few gentlemen of no inconsiderable legal

learning, and certain others to be classified as moral reformers,

contended that the book must be dangerous because it explained with

great detail how one could murder or steal and escape punishment. If the

laws were to be improved, they said, “would it not be more wisely done

by influencing a few political leaders?”

While such a criticism does not come from any considerable number of

authorities, it has been honestly made and is entitled to consideration.

The vice of it lies, it seems to me, in a failure to grasp the actual

nature of our institutions. It is a maxim of our system that the law

making power of the state rests in the first instance with the people of

the state. This power, for the purpose of convenience, is delegated to

certain selected persons who meet together in order to put into effect

the will of the people.

The so-called law-makers are therefore not law-makers at all, in the

sense of being originators of the law; they are rather agents who come

up from their respective districts under instructions. Such agents are

simply temporary representatives of the citizens of their respective

districts, directly responsible to them and charged with no duty other

than that of putting their will into effect. The agent or delegate

should therefore approach very conservatively any matter upon which the

will of his constituency has not been satisfactorily determined. It is,

then, apparent that the influence which makes or which alters the law

is a force exerted from without. No change in the law can be properly

or safely brought about except through the pressure of public sentiment.

The need for the law must be first felt by the people and the demand for

it made before the legislator is warranted in acting. The representative

would otherwise become a presumptive usurper, afflicting the people

with statutes for which there was no public demand; and such laws, so

improperly obtained, would be without the support of public sentiment

and would be liable to repeal.

Hence it is entirely clear that if the existing law prove to be unjust

or defective, the people must be brought to see and appreciate such

injustice or inadequacy and to demand the requisite modification.

This contention can, as it seems to me, not be gainsaid. It is

respectfully urged that no other method of securing wise changes in

the law can be properly pursued under democratic institutions. To hold

otherwise is to take issue with the wisdom of democracy itself, and with

so rash a champion the writer has no spear to break. Indeed, he makes

this explanation with immense unwillingness, as he feels that he should

not be required to defend a truth so evident. It is like demonstrating

gravely that the earth is round and that sun light is an energy.

Yet he is advised that attention should be called to this matter, lest

the thoughtless condemn upon a hearing _ex-parte_. Indeed, even after

the punishment of _la peine forte et dure_ is gone out these many

hundred years, the good citizen will hardly hold that one guiltless who

stands dumb while hidden evils assail. If men about their affairs were

passing to and fro across a great bridge, and one should discover that

certain planks in its flooring were defective, would he do ill if he

pointed them out to his fellows? If men labored in the shops and traded

in the market confident in the security of their city's wall, and one

should perceive that the wall was honeycombed with holes, could he stand

dumb and escape the stigma of being a traitor? The law makes little

difference in the degree of moral turpitude between the _suppressio

veri_ and the _suggestio falsi_. Both are grievous wrongs. The duty

of the individual to the state is imperative. He cannot evade it and

continue to regard himself as a worthy citizen.

Is there not in all this criticism a faint suggestion of the men who

“darken counsel by words without knowledge”?

Lycurgus taught the laws to the people, Solon taught the laws to the

people. The Roman law provided for a final appeal from the consul to

the people, and the very essence of republican institutions lies, as

has been said, in a recognition of the people as the source of the

law-making power. If the law offers imperfect security and is capable of

revision, the people must be taught in order that they may revise it. If

it offers insufficient security and is incapable of revision, then the

people must be taught in order that they may protect themselves. This

conclusion is irresistible. To counsel otherwise is to share in the

odium of that short-sighted ambassador who urged upon Pericles the

wisdom of reversing the tablet upon which the law was written in order

that the people might not read the decree.

Surely, then, he who points out the vices of the law to the people

cannot be said to do evil, unless the law of the land is to be made by

a narrow patriciate sitting, like the Areopagus of ancient Athens, with

closed doors.

That yesterday in which the enemies of society plied their craft by

means of the jimmy and the dark lantern is now almost entirely past. The

master rogue has discovered, with immense satisfaction, that the labor

of others may be enjoyed, and the results of their labor seized and

appropriated to his uses, without thrusting himself within the control

of criminal tribunals.

Wise magistrates, laboring for the welfare of the race, have been

pleased to write down what should be done and what should not be done,

and have called it “law.” The citizen, having no time to inquire, has

gone about his trade under the impression that these rules were offering

ample protection to his person and his property. But the law, being

of human device, is imperfect, and in this fag end of the nineteenth

century, the evil genius thrusts through and despoils the citizen,

and the robbery is all the more easy because the victim sleeps in a

consciousness of perfect security.

The writer has undertaken to point out a few of the more evident

inadequacies of the law and a few of the simpler methods for evasion

that are utilized by the skilful villain. It must be borne in mind,

however, that more gigantic and more intricate methods for evading the

law and for appropriating the property of the citizen are available.

The unwritten records of business ventures and the reports of courts

are crowded with the record of huge schemes having for their ultimate

purpose the robbery of the citizen. Some of these have been successful

and some have failed. Enough have brought great fortunes to their daring

perpetrators to appal that one who looks on with the welfare of human

society at heart.

The reader must bear in mind that the law herein dealt with is the law

as it is administered in the legal forms of his country, in no degree

changed and in no degree colored by the imagination of the author. Every

legal statement represents an established principle, thoroughly analyzed

by the courts of last resort. There can be no question as to the

probable truth of these legal conclusions. They are as certainly

established as it is possible for the decisions of courts to establish

any principle of law.

The reader is reminded that the schemes of skilled plotters, resorted

to for the purpose of defeating the spirit of the law, are, for the most

part, too elaborate and too intricate to be made the subject of popular

discussion. An attempt to explain to the but half-interested layman

plots of this character would be as vain as an attempt to demonstrate

an abstract problem in analytical mechanics. The knaves who have been

pleased to devote their energies and their capacities to problems of

this nature are experts learned and capable, and against these the

average man of affairs can defend himself but poorly. He may be warned,

however, and the author will have accomplished his purpose if he

succeeds in identifying the black flag of such pirate crafts.

In the present volume he has deemed it wise to continue to utilize as

his central figure the lawyer, Randolph Mason,--a rather mysterious

legal misanthrope, having no sense of moral obligation, but learned in

the law, who by virtue of the strange tilt of his mind is pleased to

strive with the difficulties of his clients as though they were mere

problems involving no matter of right or equity or common justice.

This emotionless counsellor has already been introduced to the public.

He has been described as a man in the middle forties. “Tall and

reasonably broad across the shoulders; muscular, without being either

stout or lean.” His hair was thin and of a brown color, with erratic

streaks of gray. His forehead was broad and high and of a faint reddish

color.

His eyes were restless, inky black, and not over large. The nose was big

and muscular and bowed. The eyebrows were black and heavy, almost bushy.

There were heavy furrows, running from the nose downward and outward to

the comers of the mouth. The mouth was straight, and the jaw was heavy

and square.

“Looking at the face of Randolph Mason from above, the expression in

repose was crafty and cynical; viewed from below upward, it was savage

and vindictive, almost brutal; while from the front, if looked squarely

in the face, the stranger was fascinated by the animation of the man.

and at once concluded that his expression was at the same time sneering

and fearless. He was evidently of Southern extraction and a man of

unusual power.”

This counsellor, keen, powerful, and yet devoid of any sense of moral

obligation, is possessed of this one idea---that the difficulties of men

are problems and that he can solve them; that the law, being of human

origin, can be evaded; that its servants, being but men like the others,

may be balked, and thwarted and baffled in their efforts at a proper

administration of this law.

It is the age of the able rogue, and, in examining his rascally schemes,

the writer has finally come to believe that the ancient maxim, which

declares that the law will always find a remedy for a wrong, is, in this

present time of hasty legislation, not to be accepted as trustworthy.

_(See the learned opinion of Mr. Justice Matthews in the case of Irwin

vs. Williar, no U. S. Reports, 499; the case of Waugh vs. Beck, 114 Pa.

State, 422; also Williamson vs. Baley, 78 Mo., 636; 15 B. Monroe, Ky.

Reports, 138. See also, in Virginia, the case of Machir vs. Moore, 2

Grat., 258.)_

The Man of Last Resort; Or, The Clients of Randolph Mason · 第 5 / 30 题