where they are common, will convince us by experience. The thief who is hanged to-day hath learned his intrepidity from the ́example of his hanged predecessors, as others are now taught to despise death, and to bear it hereafter with boldness, from what they see to-day.

One way of preventing the frequency of executions is by removing the evil I am complaining of: for this effect in time becomes a cause; and greatly increases that very evil from which it first arose. The design of those who first appointed executions to be public was to add the punishment of shame to that of death; in order to make the example an object of greater terror. But experience has shown us that the event is directly contrary to this intention. Indeed, a competent knowledge of human nature might have foreseen the consequence. To unite the ideas of death and shame is not so easy as may be imagined; all ideas of the latter being absorbed by the former. To prove this, I will appeal to any man who hath seen an execution, or a procession to an execution; let him tell me, when he hath beheld a poor wretch, bound in a cart, just on the verge of eternity, all pale and trembling with his approaching fate, whether the idea of shame hath ever intruded on his mind? Much less will the bold, daring rogue, who glories in his present condition, inspire the beholder with any such sensation.

The difficulty here will be easily explained, if we have recourse to the poets (for the good poet and the good politician do not differ so much as some who know nothing of either art, affirm, nor would Homer or Milton have made the worst legislators of their times) the great business is to raise terror; and the poet will tell you that admiration or pity, or both, are very apt to attend whatever is the object of terror in the human mind. That is very useful to the poet, but very hurtful on the present occasion to the politician, whose art is to be here employed to raise an object of terror, and at the same time, as much as possible, to strip it of all pity and all admiration.

To effect this, it seems that the execution should be as soon as possible after the commission and conviction of the crime; for if this be of an atrocious kind, the resentment of mankind being warm, would pursue the criminal to his last end, and all pity for the offender would be lost in detestation of the offence. Whereas, when executions are delayed so long as they sometimes are, the punishment and not the crime is considered; and no good mind can avoid compassionating a set of wretches who are put to death

we know not why, unless, as it almost appears, to make a holiday for, and to entertain, the mob.

Secondly, It should be in some degree private. And here the poets will again assist us. Foreigners have found fault with the cruelty of the English drama, in representing frequent murders upon the stage. In fact, this is not only cruel, but highly injudicious a murder behind the scenes, if the poet knows how to manage it, will affect the audience with greater terror than if it was acted before their eyes. Of this we have an instance in the murder of the king in Macbeth, at which, when Garrick acts the part, it is scarce an hyperbole to say I have seen the hair of an audience stand an end. Terror hath, I believe, been carried higher by this single instance than by all the blood which hath been spilt on the stage.—To the poets I may add the priests, whose politics have never been doubted. Those of Egypt in particular, where the sacred mysteries were first devised, well knew the use of hiding from the eyes of the vulgar what they intended should inspire them with the greatest awe and dread. The mind of man is so much more capable of magnifying than his eye, that I question whether every object is not lessened by being looked upon; and this more especially when the passions are concerned: for these are ever apt to fancy much more satisfaction in those objects which they affect, and much more of mischief in those which they abhor, than are really to be found in either.

If executions therefore were so contrived that few could be present at them, they would be much more shocking and terrible to the crowd without doors than at present, as well as much more dreadful to the criminals themselves, who would thus die in the presence only of their enemies; and where the boldest of them would find no cordial to keep up his flatter his ambition.

spirits, nor any breath to

3dly, The execution should be in the highest degree solemn. It is not the essence of the thing itself, but the dress and apparatus of it, which make an impression on the mind, especially on the minds of the multitude, to whom beauty in rags is never desirable, nor deformity in embroidery a disagreeable object.

Montaigne, who of all men, except only Aristotle, seems best to have understood human nature, inquiring into the causes why death appears more terrible to the better sort of people than to the meaner, expresses himself thus: I do verily believe, that it is those terrible ceremonies and preparations wherewith we set it out that more terrify us than the thing itself; a new and contrary way of living, the cries of mothers, wives, and children, the

visits of astonished and afflicted friends, the attendance of pale and blubbered servants, a dark room set round with burning tapers, our beds environed with physicians and divines, in fine, nothing but ghastliness and horror round about us, render it so formidable that a man almost fancies himself dead and buried already *.'

'If the image of death, says the same author, was to appear thus dreadful to an army they would be an army of whining milksops; and where is the difference but in the apparatus? Thus in the field (I may add at the gallows) what is encountered with gayety and unconcern, in a sick bed becomes the most dreadful of all objects.'

In Holland the executions (which are very rare) are incredibly solemn. They are performed in the area before the stadthouse, and attended by all the magistrates. The effect of this solemnity is inconceivable to those who have observed it in others, or felt it in themselves; and to this perhaps, more than to any other cause, the rareness of executions in that country is owing.

Now the following method which I shall venture to prescribe, as it would include all the three particulars of celerity, privacy, and solemnity, so would it, I think, effectually remove all the evils complained of, and which at present attend the manner of inflicting capital punishment.

Suppose then that the court at the Old Baily was, at the end of the trials, to be adjourned during four days; that against the adjournment day a gallows was erected in the area before the court; that the criminals were all brought down on that day to receive sentence; and that this was executed the very moment after it was pronounced, in the sight and presence of the judges.

Nothing can, I think, be imagined (not even torture, which I am an enemy to the very thought of admitting) more terrible than such an execution; and I leave it to any man to resolve himself upon reflection, whether such a day at the Old Bailey or a holiday at Tyburn would make the strongest impression on the minds of every one.

Thus I have, as well as I am able, finished the task which I proposed; have endeavoured to trace the evil from the very fountain-head, and to show whence it originally springs, as well as all the supplies it receives, till it becomes a torrent, which at present threatens to bear down all before it.

And here I must again observe, that if the former part of this treatise should raise any attention in the legislature, so as effec*Montaigne, Essay 19.

tually to put a stop to the luxury of the lower people, to force the poor to industry, and to provide for them when industrious, the latter part of my labour would be of very little use; and indeed all the pains which can be taken in this latter part, and all the remedies which can be devised, without applying a cure to the former, will be only of the palliative kind, which may patch up the disease, and lessen the bad effects, but never can totally remove it.

Nor, in plain truth, will the utmost severity to offenders be justifiable unless we take every possible method of preventing the offence. Nemo ad supplicia exigenda provenit, nisi qui remedia consumpsit, says Seneca*, where he represents the governors of kingdoms in the amiable light of parents. The subject as well as the child should be left without excuse before he is punished; for in that case alone the rod becomes the hand either of the parent or the magistrate.

All temptations therefore are to be carefully moved out of the way; much less is the plea of necessity to be left in the mouth of any. This plea of necessity is never admitted in our law; but the reason of this is, says lord Hale, because it is so difficult to discover the truth. Indeed that it is not always certainly false is a sufficient scandal to our polity; for what can be more shocking than to see an industrious poor creature, who is able and willing to labour, forced by mere want into dishonesty, and that in a nation of such trade and opulence.

Upon the whole, something should be, nay, must be done, or much worse consequences than have hitherto happened are very soon to be apprehended. Nay, as the matter now stands, not only care for the public safety, but common humanity, exacts our concern on this occasion; for that many cart-loads of our fellow creatures are once in six weeks carried to slaughter is a dreadful consideration; and this is greatly heightened by reflecting, that, with proper care and proper regulations, much the greater part of these wretches might have been made not only happy in themselves, but very useful members of the society, which they now so greatly dishonour in the sight of all Cbristendom. * De Clementia, lib. ji. Fragin.

END OF THE TWELFTH VOLUME.