At the time of my first visit to the penitentiary of my own State the warden surprised me by saying: "Among the very best men in the prison are the \'life\' men, the men here for murder."

How true this was I could not then realize, but as in time I came to know well so many of these men the words of the warden were fully confirmed.

The law classes the killing of one person by another under three heads: murder in the first degree; murder in the second degree; and manslaughter. The murder deliberately planned and executed constitutes murder in the first degree; and for this, in many of our States, the penalty is still capital punishment; otherwise, legal murder deliberately planned and officially executed, the penalty duplicating the offence in general outline. This is the popular conception of fitting the punishment to the crime; and its continuance ignores the obvious truth that, so long as the law justifies and sets the example of taking life under[Pg 122] given circumstances, so long will the individual justify himself in taking life under circumstances which seem to him to warrant doing so; the individual simply takes the law into his own hands. War and the death penalty are the two most potent sources of mental suggestion in the direction of murder.

In every execution within the walls of a penitentiary the suggestion of murder is sown broadcast among the other convicts, and is of especial danger to those mentally unsound. As long as capital punishment is upheld as necessary to the protection of society each State should have its State executioner; and executions should take place at the State capital in the presence of the governor and as many legislators as may be in the city. In relegating to the penitentiary the ugly office of Jack Ketch we escape the realization of what it all is—how revolting, how barbarous—and we throw one more horror into the psychic atmosphere of prison life.

Several factors have combined to hold the death penalty so long on the throne of justice. Evolution has not yet eliminated from the human being the elementary savage instinct of bloodthirstiness, so frightfully disclosed in the [Pg 123]revolting rush of the populace eager to witness the public executions perpetrated in France in the present century; public executions in defiance of the established fact that men hitherto harmless have gone from the sight of an execution impelled to kill some equally harmless individual.

Many good men and women, ignoring the practical effect of anything so obscure as "suggestion," honestly believe that fear of the death penalty has a restraining influence upon the criminal class. In those States and countries which have had the courage to abolish the death penalty the soundness of the "deterrent effect" theory is being tested; statistics vary in different localities but the aggregate of general statistics shows a decrease in murders following the abolition of the death penalty.

A silent partner in the support of capital punishment is the general assumption that the murderer is a normal and a morally responsible human being. Science is now leading us to a clearer understanding of the relation between the moral and the physical in human nature, and we are beginning to perceive that complex and far-reaching are the causes, the undercurrents, the abnormal impulses which come to the surface[Pg 124] in the act of murder. Some years ago in England, upon the examination of the brains of a successive number of men executed for murder, it was ascertained that eighty-five per cent of those brains were organically diseased. Granting that these men were criminally murderers, we must grant also that they were mentally unsound, themselves victims of disease before others became their victims. Where the moral responsibility lies, the Creator alone can know; perhaps in a crowded room of a foul tenement an overworked mother or a brutal father struck a little boy on the head, and the little brain went wrong, some of those infinitesimal brain-cells related to moral conduct were crushed, and years afterward the effect of the cruel blow on the head of the defenceless child culminated in the murderous blow from the hand of this child grown to manhood. And back of the blow given the child stand the saloon and the sweat-shop and the bitter poverty and want which can change a human being into a brute. Saloons and sweat-shops flourish in our midst, and cruel is the pressure of poverty, and terrible in their results are the blows inflicted upon helpless children. When the State vigorously sets to work to remove or ameliorate the social conditions[Pg 125] which cause crime there will be fewer lawless murderers to be legally murdered.

Time and again men innocent of the crime have been executed for murder. Everything is against a man accused of murder. The simple accusation antagonizes the public against the accused man. The press, which loves to be sensational, joins in the prosecution, sometimes also the pulpit. The tortures of the sweat-box are resorted to, that the accused may be driven to convict himself before being tried; and one who has no money may find himself convicted simply because he cannot prove his innocence—although the law professes to hold a man innocent until his guilt is proven.

For years I was an advocate of the death penalty as a merciful alternative to life imprisonment. Knowing that the certainty of approaching death may effect spiritual awakening and bring to the surface all that is best in a man; believing that death is the great liberator and the gateway to higher things; knowing that a man imprisoned for life may become mentally and spiritually deadened by the hopelessness of his fate, or may become so intent on palliating, excusing, or justifying his crime as to lose all sense of guilt, perhaps eventually to believe himself a[Pg 126] victim rather than a criminal; knowing the unspeakable suffering of the man who abandons himself to remorse, and knowing how often the "life man" becomes a prey to insanity, in sheer pity for the prisoner I came to regard the death penalty as a merciful means of escape from an incomparably worse fate.

So far my point of view was taken only in relation to the prisoner for life. Later, when I had studied the subject more broadly, in considering the effect of the death penalty upon the community at large and as a measure for the protection of society, I could not escape the conviction that in the civilized world of to-day capital punishment is indefensible. Christianity, humanity, sociology, medical science, psychology, and statistics stand solid against the injustice and the unwisdom of capital punishment. Public sentiment, the last bulwark of the death penalty, is slowly but surely becoming enlightened, and the final victory of humanitarianism is already assured.

Throughout the United States the legal penalty for murder in the second degree is imprisonment for life; then follows the crime called manslaughter, when the act is committed in [Pg 127]self-defence or under other extenuating circumstances; the penalty for which is imprisonment for a varying but limited term of years. Practically there is no definite line dividing murder in the second degree from manslaughter. A clever expert lawyer, whether on the side of prosecution or the defence, has little difficulty in carrying his case over the border in the one direction or the other. Money, and the social position of the accused, are important factors in adjusting the delicate balance between murder in the second degree and manslaughter.

Various are the pathways that lead to the illegal taking of life; terrible often the pressure brought to bear upon the man before the deed is done. Deadly fear, the fear common to humanity, has been the force that drove the hand of many a man to strike, stab, or shoot with fatal effect; while anger, righteous or unrighteous, the momentary impulse of intense emotional excitement to which we are all more or less liable, has gathered its host of victims and caused the tragic ruin of unnumbered men now wearing life away in our penitentiaries.

And terribly true it is that some of the "life" men are among the best in our prisons, the "life"[Pg 128] men who are all indiscriminately called murderers. That some of them were murderers at heart and a menace to the community we cannot doubt; doubtless, also, some are innocent of any crime; and there are others for whom it would be better for all concerned if they were given liberty to-day.

It seems to be assumed that a man unjustly imprisoned suffers more than the one who knows that he has only himself to blame. Much depends upon the nature of the man. Given two men of equally sound moral nature, while the one with a clear conscience may suffer intensely, from the sense of outrage and injustice, from the tearing of the heart-strings and the injury to business relations, his mental agony can hardly equal that of the man whose heart is eaten out with remorse. The best company any prisoner can have is his own self-respect, the best asset of a bankrupt life. I have been amazed to see for how much that counts in the peace and hope, and the great power of patience which makes for health and gives strength for endurance.

I was deeply impressed with this fact in the case of one man. His name was Gay Bowers, a name curiously inconsistent with his fate, and, "life man" though he was, no one in that big[Pg 129] prison ever associated him with murder; no one who really looked into his face could have thought him a criminal. It was the only face I ever saw, outside of a book, that seemed chastened through sorrow; his gentle smile was like the faint sunshine of an April day breaking through the mists; and there was about the man an atmosphere of youth and springtime though he was near forty when we first met; but it was the arrested youth of a man to whom life seemed to have ended when he was but twenty-two.

Gay was country born and bred, loved and early married a country girl, and was known throughout the neighborhood as a hard-working, steady young fellow. He lived in a village near the Mississippi River, and one summer he went down to St. Louis on some business and returned by boat. On the steamboat a stranger, a young man of near his age, made advances toward acquaintance, and hearing his name exclaimed:

"Gay Bowers! why my name is Ray Bowers, and I\'m looki............