CHAPTER V

THE LAW MAKERS AND THE LAW

WELL MEANING exhorters, shocked at the spectacle of millions of

perfectly decent and law-abiding Americans showing an utter disregard

of the Prohibition law, are prone to insist that to violate this law,

or to abet its violation, is just as immoral as to violate any other

criminal law. The thing is on the statute-books--nay, in the very

Constitution itself --and to offend against it, they say, is as much a

crime as to commit larceny, arson or murder. But they may repeat this

doctrine until Doomsday, and make little impression upon persons who

exercise their common sense. The law that makes larceny, arson or

murder a crime merely registers, and emphasizes, and makes effective

through the power of the Government, the dictates of the moral sense

of practically all mankind; and if, in the case of some kindred

crimes, it goes beyond those dictates for special reasons, the

extension is only such as is called for by the circumstances. However

desirable it may be that the sudden transformation of an innocent act

into a crime by mere governmental edict should carry with it the same

degree of respect as is paid to laws against crimes which all normal

men hold in abhorrence, it is idle to expect any such thing; and in a

case where the edict violates principles which almost all of us only a

short time ago held to be almost sacred, the expectation is worse than

merely idle. A nation which could instantly get itself into the frame

of mind necessary for such supine submission would be a nation fit for

servitude, not freedom. But in the case of the Prohibition Amendment,

and of the Volstead act for its enforcement, there enters another

element which must inevitably and most powerfully affect the feelings

of men toward the law. Everybody knows that the law is violated, in

spirit if not in letter, by a large proportion of the very men who

imposed it upon the country. Members of Congress and of the State

Legislatures--those that voted for Prohibition, as well as those that

voted against it--have their private stocks of liquor like other

people; nor is there any reason to believe that many of them are more

scrupulous than other people in augmenting their supply from outside

sources. One of the means resorted to by the Anti-Saloon League in

pushing through the Amendment was the particular care they took to

make its passage involve little sacrifice of personal indulgence on

the part of those who were wealthy enough, or clever enough, to

provide for the satisfaction of their own desires in the matter of

drink, at least for many years to come. The League knew perfectly that

in some Prohibition States the possession of liquor was forbidden as

well as its manufacture, transportation and sale; but the AntiSaloon

League would never have dared to include in the Amendment a ban upon

possession. Congressmen who voted for it knew that not only they

themselves, but their wealthy and influential constituents, would be

in a position to provide in very large measure for their own future

indulgences; and it may be set down as certain that had this not been

the case, opposition to the Amendment would have been vastly more

effective than it was. In order that a person should entertain a

genuine feeling that the Prohibition Amendment is entitled to the same

kind of respect as the general body of criminal law, it is

necessary--even if he waives all those questions of Constitutional

principle which have been dwelt upon in previous chapters--that he

should regard drinking as a crime. And this is indeed the express

belief of many upholders of the Amendment--a foolish belief, in my

judgment, but certainly a sincere one. I have before me a

letter--typical of many--published in one of our leading newspapers

and written evidently by a man of education as well as sincerity. He

speaks bitterly of the proposal to permit "light wines and beer," and

asks whether any one would propose to permit light burglary or light

arson. That man evidently regards indulgence in any intoxicating

liquor as a crime, and he looks upon the law as a prohibition of that

crime. And he is essentially right, if the law is right. For while the

law does not in its express terms make drinking a crime, its

intention--and its practical effect so far as regards the great mass

of the people--is precisely that. The people President Angell had in

mind when he implored the young Yale graduates not to be like them,

are not makers or sellers of liquor, but drinkers of it. They are not

moonshiners or smugglers or bootleggers; they are the people upon

whose patronage or connivance the moonshiners and smugglers and

bootleggers depend for their business. And everybody knows that, in

their private capacity, Senators and Representatives and

Legislaturemen are precisely like their fellow-citizens in this

matter. They may possibly be somewhat more careful about the letter of

the law; they are certainly just as regardless of its spirit. With the

exception of a comparatively small number of genuine

Prohibitionists--men who were for Prohibition before the Anti-Saloon

League started its campaign--they would laugh at the question whether

they regard drinking as a crime. And they act accordingly. What degree

of moral authority can the law be expected to have in these

circumstances? Upon the mind of a man intensely convinced that the law

is an outrage, how much impression can be produced by the mere fact

that it was passed by Congress and the Legislatures, when the real

attitude of the members of those bodies is such as it is seen to be in

their private conduct? How much of a moral sanction would be given to

a law against larceny if a large proportion of the men who enacted the

law were themselves receivers of stolen goods ? Or a law against

forgery if the legislators were in the frequent habit of passing

forged checks? It happens that the receiving of stolen goods or the

passing of forged checks is a crime under the law, as well as the

stealing or the forgery itself; and that the Prohibition law does not

make the drinking or even the buying of liquor, but only the making or

selling of it, a crime; but what a miserable refuge this is for a man

who professes to believe that the abolition of intoxicating liquor is

so supreme a public necessity as to demand the remaking of the

Constitution of the United States for the purpose! Not the least of

the causes of public disrespect for the Prohibition law is the

notorious insincerity of the makers of the law, and their flagrant

disrespect for their own creation.

What Prohibition Has Done to America · 第 5 / 11 章