No doubt the principle that punishment ought to have a reforming
effect upon the criminal survives as a rudimentary organ in nearly
all the schools which concern themselves with crime. But this is
only a secondary principle, and as it were the indirect object of
punishment; and besides, the observations of anthropology,
psychology, and criminal statistics have finally disposed of it,
having established the fact that, under any system of punishment,
with the most severe or the most indulgent methods, there are
always certain types of criminals, representing a large number of
individuals, in regard to whom amendment is simply impossible, or
very transitory, on account of their organic and moral
degeneration. Nor must we forget that, since the natural roots of
crime spring not only from the individual organism, but also, in
large measure, from its physical and social environment,
correction of the individual is not sufficient to prevent
relapse if we do not also, to the best of our ability, reform the
social environment. The utility and the duty of reformation none
the less survive, even for the positive school, whenever it is
possible, and for certain classes of criminals; but, as a
fundamental principle of a scientific theory, it has passed away.

Hitherto, then, the classical school stands alone, with varying
shades of opinion, but one and distinct as a method, and as a body
of principles and consequences. And whilst it has achieved its
aim in the most recent penal codes, with a great, and too
frequently an excessive diminution of punishments, so in respect
of theory, in Italy, Germany, and France it has crowned its work
with a series of masterpieces amongst which I will only mention
Carrara's ``Programme of Criminal Law.'' As the author tells us
in one of his later editions, from the a priori principle