hanging of some culprit. Even the unthinking public, always clamoring
for severe penalties, does not believe that the example of punishment
deters. The public forbids the exhibition of pictures of hangings and of
crimes. Somehow, vaguely and dimly as most men see everything, the
public realizes that instead of punishments preventing crime,
punishments suggest crime. In the olden days when men admitted that
vengeance and punishment went together, they were at least more logical,
for executions were in the open light of day so all might see and be
deterred.

But this sort of punishment was abolished long ago. Now executions are
behind tightly-closed doors, often before day-break, with no one present
but a doctor to pronounce the victim dead, a preacher to try to save his
soul, and a few favored guests. The most humane individuals advocate
suppressing the stories in the newspapers, beyond an obituary notice for
the deceased, and forbidding the publication of the details of the crime
and its penalty. So far as this succeeds, it is a confession that
punishment does not deter, but instead suggests and encourages crime.
The idea that crime is prevented by punishment, if believed, would be
followed by requirements that the young should visit prisons that they
might realize the consequences of crime, and that all executions should
be public and should be performed on the highest hill.

So much has been written about the decrease of crime that follows the
reduction of penalties, and likewise about the numerous crimes of
violence which generally follow public hangings, that it is hardly
necessary to recall it to the reader. The fact is, those who say that
punishment deters have no confidence in their own statement.

The operations of the human mind have always been clouded in mystery and