The close relation of the contraction of the brow with its early stage, a slight elevation of the eyebrows, is manifest in the fact that it occurs under embarra.s.sment-not very regularly but almost always upon the perception of something foreign and inexplicable, or upon getting twisted in one"s talk; in fact, upon all such conditions
which require greater physical and psychical clearness of vision, and hence the shutting out of superfluous light. The expression may be important on the face of a defendant who a.s.serts,-e. g.- that he does not understand an argument intended to prove his guilt. If he is guilty he obviously knows what happened in the commission of the crime and thereby the argument which reproduces it, and even if he a.s.sures the court a hundred times that he does not understand it, he is either trying to show himself innocent or wants to gain time for his answer. If he is innocent it may be that he really does not understand the argument because he is unaware of the actual situation. Hence he will frown and listen attentively at the very beginning of the argument. The guilty person perhaps also aims to appear enormously attentive, but he does not contract his brow, because he does not need to sharpen his glance; he knows the facts accurately enough without it. It is important for the penologist to know whether a man has in the course of his life undergone much anxiety and trouble, or whether he has lived through it carelessly. Concerning these matters Darwin points out that when the inner ends of the eyebrows are raised certain muscles have to be contracted (i. e. the circular ones which contract the eyebrows and the pyramidal muscle of the nose, which serve both to pull down and contract the eyelids). The contraction is accomplished through the vigorous drawing together of the central bundle of muscles at the brow. These muscles, by contracting, raise the inner ends of the brow, and since the muscles which contract the eyebrows bring them together at the same time, their inner ends are folded in great lumpy creases. In this way short oblique, and short perpendicular furrows are made. Now this, few people can do without practice; many can never perform it voluntarily, and it is more frequent among women and children than among men. It is important to note that it is always a sign of spiritual pain, not physical. And curiously enough it is as a rule related with drawing down the corners of the mouth.
Further to study the movements of the features will require an examination into the reasons for the action of these, and not other muscles, as accompaniments of the psychical states. Piderit holds it is due to the fact that the motor nerves which supply these muscles rise right next to the purely psychical centers and hence these muscles are the supports of the organs of sense. The latter is no doubt correct, but the first statement is rather doubtful. In any event it is evident that the features contain an exceptionally large number
of fine muscles with especially rich motor capacity, and hence move together and in accordance with the psychical conditions. It may be that the other muscles of the body have also a share in this but that we fail to perceive the fact. Such movements, however, have not been essential.
We may take it as a general rule that all joyous and uplifting emotions (even astonishment) are succeeded by the raising of the skin of the forehead, the nostrils, the eyes, the eyelids, while sad and oppressing emotions have the contrary effect. This simple and easy rule renders immediately intelligible many an otherwise obscure expression which we find important but concerning the meaning of which we are in doubt. The development of a movement in any face goes, according to Harless,[1] in this fashion: "The superior motor nerve is the oculomotorius. The stimulation reaches this one first-the mildest alteration of emotion betrays itself most rapidly in the look, the movement and condition of the pupil of the eye. If the impulse is stronger it strikes the roots of the motor end of the trigeminus and the movement of the muscles of mastication occur; then the intensified affection spreads through the other features." n.o.body will, of course, a.s.sert that even a completely developed physiognomical science will help us over all our difficulties, but with a little attention it can help us to a considerable degree. This help we do need, as La Rochefoucauld points out, with even contemporary correctness, "It is easier to know men than to know a particular man."
Section 21. (8) The Hand.
The physiognomy of the hand stands close to that of the face in significance and is in some relations of even greater importance, because the expression of the hand permits of no, or very slight, simulation. A hand may be rendered finer or coa.r.s.er, may be rendered light or dark, the nails may be cared for or allowed to develop into claws. The appearance of the hand may be altered, but not its physiognomy or character. Whoever creases his face in the same way for a thousand times finally retains the creases and receives from them a determinate expression even if this does not reveal his inner state; but whoever does the same thing a thousand times with his hand does not thereby impress on it a means of identification. The frequent Tartuffian rolling of the eyes finally gives the face a pious or at least pietistic expression, but fold your hands in
[1] Wagner"s Handwrterbuch, III, i. daily prayer for years and n.o.body would discover it from them. It seems, however, of little use to know that human hands can not be disguised, if they are little or not at all differentiated; but as it happens they are, next to the face, the most extremely and profoundly differentiated of human organs; and a general law teaches us that different effects are produced by different causes, and that from the former the latter may be inferred. If then we observe the infinite variety of the human hand we have to infer an equally infinite variety of influences, and inasmuch as we cannot trace these influences any further we must conclude that they are to be explained causally by the infinite variety of psychical states.
Whoever studies the hand psychologically gains in the course of time a great deal of faith in what the hand tells him. And finally he doubts it only when chirognomy conflicts with physiognomy. If in such cases it is observed that the hand is more likely to be correct than the face, and that inferences from the hand more rarely show themselves to be false, one is reminded of the dictum of Aristotle, "The hand is the organ of organs, the instrument of instruments in the human body." If this is correct, the favored instrument must be in the closest kind of relation with the psyche of the owner, but if this relation exists there must be an interaction also. If the hand contained merely its physical structure, Newton would never have said, "Other evidence lacking, the thumb would convince me of G.o.d"s existence."
How far one ought to establish fundamental propositions in this matter, I can not easily say. Perhaps it would be scientifically most correct to be satisfied for the time with collecting the carefully and keenly observed material and getting the anatomists, who are already in need of material for professional investigations, to take the matter up; in collecting photographs of hands belonging to persons whose characters are well known and in getting a sufficient number of properly equipped persons to make the collection. If we had enough material to draw fundamental principles from, much that has been a.s.serted by Bell, Carus, D"Arpentigny, Allen, Gessmann, Liersch, Landsberg,[1] etc., might be proved and tested. But their statements
[1] C. Bell: The Human Hand. London 1865.
K. G. Carus: ber Grund u. Bedeutung der verschiedenen Hand. Stuttgart 1864.D"Arpentigny: La Chirognomie. Paris 1843.
Allen. Manual of Cheirosophy. London 1885.
Gessman: Die M
Liersch. Die linke Hand. Berlin 1893.
J. Landsberg: Die Wahrsagekunst aus der Menschlichen Gestalt. Berlin 1895.
are still subject to contradiction because their fundamental principles are not sufficient for the development of a system. Probably n.o.body will doubt some of the more common statements; all will grant with Winkelmann that a beautiful hand is in keeping with a beautiful soul; or with Balzac that people of considerable intellect have handsome hands, or in calling the hand man"s second face. But when specific co-ordinations of the hand are made these meet with much doubt. So for example, Esser[1] calls the elementary hand essentially a work hand, the motor essentially a masculine hand, having less soul and refinement of character than will and purposefulness. So again the sensitive hand implies generally a sanguine character, and the psychic hand presents itself as the possession of beautiful souls and n.o.ble spirits.
However true this cla.s.sification may be, the establishment and description of the various significatory signs is very difficult, especially because the forms named rarely appear in clear and sharply defined subdivisions. The boundaries are fluid, like the characters themselves, and where the properties of one group pa.s.s almost directly into the other, both description and recognition are difficult. If, then, we can not depend upon a systematic, and at present remote treatment, we still may depend on well-founded observations which appear as reliable presuppositions in the light of their frequent repet.i.tion.
Not essentially psychological but of importance for the criminalist are the inferences we may draw from Herbert Spencer"s a.s.sertion that people whose ancestors have worked with their hands possess heavy hands. Conversely, people whose ancestors have not worked hard with their hands possess small and fine hands. Hence the small delicate hands of Jews, the frequent perfection of form and invariable smallness of the hands of Gypsies, who have inherited their hands from high-cast Hindoos, and the so-called racial hands of real aristocrats. That hard work, even tumbling, piano playing, etc., should alter the form of a hand is self-evident, since muscles grow stronger with practice and the skin becomes coa.r.s.er and drawn through friction, sharp wind and insufficient care. As is well known, physical properties are hereditary and observable in any study of races; is it any wonder that a skilled glance at a man"s hand may uncover a number of facts concerning the circ.u.mstances of his life? n.o.body doubts that there are raw, low, sensual, fat hands. And who does not know the suffering, spiritual, refined, and delicate
[1] W. Esser: Psychologie. Mnster 1854. hand? Hands cannot of course be described and distinguished according to fixed cla.s.sification, and no doubt h.e.l.lenbach was right when he said, "Who can discover the cause of the magic charm which lies in one out of a hundred thousand equally beautiful hands?"
And this is remarkable because we are not fooled through a well cared for, fine and elegant hand. Everybody, I might say, knows the convincing quality that may lie in the enormous leathery fist of a peasant. For that, too, is often harmoniously constructed, nicely articulated, appears peaceful and trustworthy. We feel that we have here to do with a man who is honest, who presents himself and his business as they are, who holds fast to whatever he once gets hold of, and who understands and is accustomed to make his words impressive. And we gain this conviction, not only through the evidence of honest labor, performed through years, but also through the stability and determination of the form of his hands. On the other hand, how often are we filled with distrust at the sight of a carefully tended, pink and white hand of an elegant gentleman- whether because we dislike its condition or its shape, or because the form of the nails recalls an unpleasant memory, or because there is something wrong about the arrangement of the fingers, or because of some unknown reason. We are warned, and without being hypnotised, regularly discover that the warning is justified. Certain properties are sure to express themselves: coldness, prudence, hardness, calm consideration, greed, are just as indubitable in the hand as kindness, frankness, gentleness, and honesty.
The enchantment of many a feminine hand is easily felt. The surrender, the softness, the concession, the refinement and honesty of many a woman is so clear and open that it streams out, so to speak, and is perceivable by the senses.
To explain all this, to cla.s.sify it scientifically and to arrange it serially, would be, nowadays at least, an unscientific enterprise. These phenomena pa.s.s from body to body and are as reliable as inexplicable. Who has never observed them, and although his attention has been called to them, still has failed to notice them, need not consider them, but persons believing in them must be warned against exaggeration and haste. The one advice that can be given is to study the language of the hand before officially ignoring it; not to decide immediately upon the value of the observations one is supposed to have made, but to handle them cautiously and to test them with later experiences. It is of especial interest to trace
the movement of the hand, especially the fingers. I do not mean those movements which are external, and co-ordinate with the movements of the arm; those belong to mimicry. I mean those that begin at the wrist and therefore occur in the hand only. For the study of those movements the hand of childhood is of little use, being altogether too untrained, unskilled, and neutral. It shows most clearly the movement of the desire to possess, of catching hold and drawing toward oneself, generally toward the mouth, as does the suckling child its mother"s breast. This movement, Darwin has observed even among kittens.
The masculine hand is generally too heavy and slow, clearly to exhibit the more refined movements; these are fully developed only in the feminine, particularly in the hands of vivacious, nervous, and spiritually excitable women. The justice who observes them may read more than he can in their owner"s words. The hand lies in the lap apparently inert, but the otherwise well concealed anger slowly makes a fist of it, or the fingers bend characteristically forward as if they wished to scratch somebody"s eyes out. Or they cramp together in deep pain, or the b.a.l.l.s of the four other fingers pa.s.s with pleasure over the ball of the thumb, or they move spasmodically, nervously, impatiently and fearfully, or they open and close with characteristic enjoyment like the paws of cats when the latter feel quite spry.
Closer observation will show that toes reveal a great deal, particularly among women who wear rather fine shoes and hence can move their feet with greater ease. In anger, when they cannot, because it would be suggestive, stamp their feet, the women press their toes closely to the ground. If they are embarra.s.sed they turn the sole of their shoe slightly inwards and make small curves with the point on the ground. Impatience shows itself through alternating and swinging pressure of heel and toe, repeated with increasing rapidity; defiance and demand through raising the toes in such a way that the sole is directly forward and the foot rests only on the heel. Sensuality is always indicated when the foot is put forward and the shin bone lightly stretched out, when all the toes are drawn in toward the sole just as the cat does when she feels good. What women do not say in words and do not express in their features and do not indicate in the movement of their hands, they say with their feet; the inner experience must express itself externally and the foot most betrays it.
In conclusion it ought to be kept in mind that the hands of all
those people who claim to be hard workers but who really try to live without work, i. e. thieves, gamblers, etc., ought to be carefully examined. Concerning the value of graphology see my "Manual for Examining Judges."
t.i.tLE B. THE CONDITIONS FOR DEFINING THEORIES.
Topic I. THE MAKING OF INFERENCES.
Section 22.
The study of the human soul as psychology, has for its subject the whole stream of conscious life and for its aim the discovery of the occurrence and relation of the laws of human thought. Now whether these relations imply the coherence of the objects thought about or not, so long as logic is dealing with the laws according to which thoughts must be correlated in order to attain to objectively valid knowledge, all questions that deal with the formal aspect of thinking do not enter the field of psychological investigation. The general psychological problem is to describe the actual psychic events as they occur, to a.n.a.lyze them into their simplest elements, and inasmuch as it is this purely pragmatic application of psychology to the problem of inference that concerns us, we need to deal only with that law which defines the combination of images and with the question,-how the spirit achieves this combination. The material aspect of this question is therefore psychological. The legal importance of the problem lies in the very potent fact that inferences and theories are often constructed which are formally or logically absolutely free of error, yet psychologically full of errors that no logic whatever could correct. We have, therefore, to consider at least the most important conditions which determine the manner of our inferences.
The right which lawyers possess of studying these questions, so far as they lie in our field, is of modern establishment. According to Hillebrand[1] the theory of knowledge has to-day broken up into individual theories, involving the certain needs of special fields of knowledge. The place of the epistomologists, who are professionals and beyond the pale of individual disciplines, is now taken by the representatives of those disciplines and each works expressly on his own epistomological problem. Our especial problem is the drawing of inferences from the material presented to us or brought together by our efforts, just as in other disciplines. If we set ourselves the
[1] F. Hillebrand: zur Lehre der Hypothesenbildung.
task of determining the procedure when subjecting the fundamental principles of our work to revision and examining their utility, we merely ask whether the process is voluntary or according to fixed laws; and having cleared up that point we ask what influence psychological conditions exercise on the situation. It is, indeed, said that thinking is a congenital endowment, not to be learned from rules. But the problem is not teaching the inferrer to think; the problem is the examination of how inferences have been made by another and what value his inferences may have for our own conclusions. And our own time, which has been bold enough to lay this final conclusion in even the most important criminal cases, in the hands of laymen, this time is doubly bound at least to prepare all possible control for this work, to measure what is finally taken as evidence with the finest instruments possible, and to present to the jury only what has been proved and repeatedly examined.
It might almost seem as if the task the jury trial sets the judge has not been clearly perceived. A judge who thinks he has performed it when he has cast before the jury the largest possible ma.s.s of testimony, more or less reviewed, and who sees how people, who perhaps for the first time in their lives, are involved in a court of law, who perhaps see a criminal for the first time, and are under these circ.u.mstances the arbiters of a man"s fate,-a judge who sees all this and is satisfied, is not effective in his work. Nowadays more than ever, it is for the judge to test all evidence psychologically, to review what is only apparently clear, to fill out lacunae, and to surmount difficulties, before he permits the material brought together in a very few hours to pa.s.s into the jury"s hands. According to Hillebrand, much that seems "self-evident" shows itself dependent on definite experience attained in the process of hundreds of repet.i.tions in the daily life; the very impression of self-evidence is frequently produced by a mere chance instinct about what should be held for true. Hume has already shown how the most complex and abstract concepts are derived from sensation. Their relation must be studied, and only when we can account for every psychic process with which we have to concern ourselves, is our duty properly fulfilled.
Section 23. (a) Proof.
Mittermaier[1] holds that "as a means of testimony in the legal sense of that term every possible source must be examined which
[1] C. J. A. Mittermaier: Die Lehre vom Beweis im deutschen Strafprozess. Darmstadt 1834.
may suffice the judge according to law. And from such examination only may the requisite certainties be attained from which the judge is to a.s.sume as determined, facts relevant to his judgment." Only the phrase "according to law" needs explanation, inasmuch as the "source" of reasons and certainties must satisfy the legal demands not only formally but must sustain materially every possible test, whether circ.u.mstantial or logico-psychologic. If, for example, the fundamental sources should be a combination of (1) a judicial examination of premises (lokalaugenschein), (2) testimony of witnesses, and (3) a partial confession, the requirements of the law would be satisfied if the protocol, (1), were written or made according to prescribed forms, if a sufficient number of properly summoned witnesses unanimously confirmed the point in question, and if finally the confession were made and protocoled according to law. Yet, though the law be satisfied, not only may the conclusion be wholly false but every particular part of the evidence may be perfectly useless, without the presence anywhere of intentional untruth. The personal examination may have been made by a judge who half the time, for some sufficiently cogent reason, had a different conception of the case than the one which later appeared to be true. It need not have been necessary that there should be mixed therewith false information of witnesses, incorrect observation, or such other mistakes. There need only have been a presupposition, accepted at the beginning of the examination, when the examination of the premises took place, as to the visible condition of things; and this might have given apparent justification to doubtful material and have rendered it intelligible, only to be shown later as false. The so-called "local examination" however, is generally supposed to be "objective." It is supposed to deal only with circ.u.mstantial events, and it does not occur to anybody to modify and alter it when it is certainly known that at another point the situation has taken an altogether different form. The objectivity of the local examination is simply non-existent, and if it were really objective, i. e., contained merely dry description with so and so many notations of distances and other figures, it would be of no use. Every local examination, to be of use, must give an accurate picture of the mental process of him who made it. On the one hand it must bring vividly to the mind of the reader, even of the sentencing judge, what the situation was; on the other, it must demonstrate what the examiner thought and represented to himself in order that the reader, who may have different opinions,
may have a chance to make corrections. If I, for example, get the impression that a fire was made through carelessness, and that somebody lost his life on account of it, and if I made my local examination with this presupposition in mind, the description will certainly seem different from that made under the knowledge that the fire was intentional and made to kill. At trial the description of local conditions will be read and entered as important testimony. It satisfies the law if it is taken according to form, has the correct content, and is read as prescribed. But for our conscience and in truth this ma.n.u.script can be correct only when it is logically and psychologically presented revised according to the viewpoint its writer would have had if he had been in possession of all the facts in possession of the reader. This work of reconstruction belongs to the most difficult of our psychological tasks-but it must be performed unless we want to go on superficially and without conscience.
The judgment and interpretation of the testimony of witnesses, (2), demand similar treatment. I am legally right if I base my judgment on the testimony of witnesses (provided there are enough of them and they are properly subpoenaed) if nothing suggestive is offered against their testimony, if they do not contradict each other, and especially if there are no contradictions in the testimony of any single individual. This inner contradiction is rather frequent, and the inattention with which the protocols, as a rule, are read, and the scanty degree in which the testimony is tested logically and psychologically, are shown clearly by the fact that the inner contradictions are not observed and worked over more frequently. As evidence of this, let us consider a few cases that are generally told as extravagant jokes. Suppose that a man dreamed that his head was cut off and that that dream so affected him that he died of apoplexy- yet not everybody asks how the dream was discovered. In a like manner people hear with disgust that somebody who has lost his arm, in despair cut off his other arm with an axe in order more easily to get a.s.sistance, and yet they do not ask "how." Or again when somebody is asked if he knows the romance "The Emperor Joseph and The Beautiful Railway-signal-man"s Daughter," the anachronism of the t.i.tle does not occur to him, and n.o.body thinks of the impossibilities of the vivid description of a man walking back and forth, with his hands behind his back, reading a newspaper.
Much testimony contains similar, if not so thorough-going contradictions. If they are credited in spite of this fact the silly be-
liever may be blamed, but he is justified in the eyes of the law if the above-mentioned legal conditions were satisfied. Hence, the frightfully frequent result: "Whether the witness"s deposition is true, is a matter for his own conscience; eventually he may be arrested for perjury, but he has made his statements and I judge accordingly." What is intended with such a statement is this: "I hide behind the law, I am permitted to judge in such a case in such a way, and n.o.body can blame me." But it is correct to a.s.sert that in such cases there is really no evidence, there is only a form of evidence. It can be actually evidential only when the testimony is tested logically and psychologically, and the ability and willingness of the witness to tell the truth is made clear. Of course it is true, as Mittermaier says, that the utterance of witnesses is tested by its consistency with other evidence, but that is neither the only test nor the most valid, for there is always the more important internal test, in the first place; and in the second place, it is not conclusive because the comparison may reveal only inconsistency, but can not establish which of the conflicting statements is correct. Correctness can be determined only through testing the single statements, the willingness and ability of each witness, both in themselves and in relation to all the presented material.
Let us take now the third condition of our suppositious case, i. e. partial confession. It is generally self-evident that the value of the latter is to be judged according to its own nature. The confession must be accepted as a means of proof, not as proof, and this demands that it shall be consistent with the rest of the evidence, for in that way only can it become proof. But it is most essential that the confession shall be internally tested, i. e. examined for logical and psychological consistency. This procedure is especially necessary with regard to certain definite confessions.
(a) Confessions given without motive.
(b) Partial confessions.
(c) Confessions implying the guilt of another.
(a) Logic is, according to Schiel[1] the science of evidence-not of finding evidence but of rendering evidence evidential. This is particularly true with regard to confessions, if we subst.i.tute psychology for logic. It is generally true that many propositions hold so long only as they are not doubted, and such is the case with many confessions. The crime is confessed; he who confesses to it is always a criminal, and no man doubts it, and so the confession
[1] J. Schiel: Die Methode der Induktiven Forschung. Braunschweig 1865.
stands. But as soon as doubt, justified or unjustified, occurs, the question takes quite a different form. The confession has first served as proof, but now psychological examination alone will show whether it can continue to serve as proof.
The most certain foundation for the truth of confession in any case is the establishment of a clear motive for it-and that is rarely present. Of course the motive is not always absent because we do not immediately recognize it, but it is not enough to suppose that the confession does not occur without a reason. That supposition would be approximately true, but it need not be true. If a confession is to serve evidentially the motive *must be clear and indubitable. Proof of its mere existence is insufficient; we must understand the confession in terms of all the factors that caused it. The process of discovering these factors is purely logical and generally established indirectly by means of an apagogue. This is essentially the proof by negation, but it may serve in connection with a disjunctive judgment which combines possible alternatives as a means of confirmation. We are, then, to bring together all conceivable motives and study the confession with regard to them. If all, or most of them, are shown to be impossible or insufficient, we have left only the judgment of one or more conclusions, and with this we have an essentially psychological problem. Such a problem is seldom simple and easy, and as there is no possibility of contradiction, the danger is nowhere so great of making light of the matter. "What is rea.s.serted is half proved." That is a comfortable a.s.sertion, and leads to considerable incorrectness. A confession is only established in truth when it is construed psychologically, when the whole inner life of the confessor and his external conditions are brought into relation with it, and the remaining motives established as at least possible. And this must be done to avoid the reproach of having condemned some confessor without evidence, for a confession having no motive may be untrue, and therefore not evidential.
(b) Partial confessions are difficult, not only because they make it harder to prove the evidence for what is not confessed, but also because what is confessed appears doubtful in the light of what is not. Even in the simplest cases where the reason for confession and silence seems to be clear, mistakes are possible. If, for example, a thief confesses to having stolen only what has been found in his possession but denies the rest, it is fairly probable that he hopes some gain from the evidence in which there appears to be no proof
of his having stolen what has not been found upon him. But though this is generally the case, it might occur that the thief wants to a.s.sume the guilt of another person, and hence naturally can confess only to what he is accused of, inasmuch as he either has insufficient or no evidence whatever of his guilt for the rest of the crime.
Another fairly clear reason for partial confession, is shown in the confession to a certain degree of malicious intent, as the denial of the intent to kill. If this is made by a person who may be supposed to know the legal situation, either because of earlier experience or for other reasons, there is sufficient justification for doubting the honesty of his confession. Most of such cases belong to the numerous cla.s.s in which the defendant confesses to a series of facts or a number of things, and denies a few of them without any apparent reason; he may confess to a dozen objects used in an a.s.sault and simply refuse to discuss two probably quite insignificant ones. If such a case comes up for judgment to the full bench, half the judges say that since he has stolen twelve he must have taken the other two, and the other half say that since he has confessed to twelve he would have confessed to the other two if he had taken them. Generally speaking, both sides are right; one inference is as justified as the other. As a rule, such cases do not repay a great deal of troublesome examination, inasmuch as the question of A"s having stolen twelve or fourteen objects can little affect either his guilt or his sentence. But it is to be remembered that it is never indifferent whether a man pleads guilty or not guilty, and later on, especially in another case, it may be quite the reverse of indifferent whether a man is condemned because of a matter indifferent to-day. Suppose that the denied theft was of a worthless but characteristic thing, e. g. an old prayer-book. If now the thief is again suspected of a robbery which he denies and the theft is again that of an old prayerbook, then it is not indifferent as a matter of proof whether the man was condemned for stealing a prayer-book or not. If he was so condemned, there will already be remarks about, "a certain pa.s.sion for old prayer-books," and the man will be suspected of the second theft.
In regard to the possession of stolen goods, such a sentence may have similar significance. I recall a case in which several people were sentenced for the theft of a so-called fokos (a Hungarian cane with a head like an ax). Later a fokos was used in murder in the same region and the first suspicion of the crime was attached to the thief, who might, because of his early crime, have been in possession
of a fokos. Now suppose that the man had confessed to theft of everything but the fokos, and that he had been condemned on the basis of the confession, the fact would be of far-reaching significance in the present case. Of course it is not intended that the old case is to be tried again before the new. That would be a difficult job after the lapse of some time, and in addition, would be of little use, for everybody recalls the old judgment anyway and supposes that the circ.u.mstances must have been such as to show the man guilty. If a man is once sentenced for something he has not confessed to, the stigma remains no matter how the facts may be against it.
Experience has shown that the victims of theft count everything stolen that they do not discover at the first glance. And it might have been lost long before the theft, or have been stolen at an earlier or a later time. For this reason it often happens that servants, and even the children of the house or other frequenters, take the robbery as an opportunity for explaining the disappearance of things they are responsible for or steal afresh and blame it upon "the thief." The quant.i.ty stolen is generally exaggerated, moreover, in order to excite universal sympathy and perhaps to invoke help. In general, we must hold that there is no psychological reason that a confessor should deny anything the confession of which can bring him no additional harm. The last point must be carefully treated, for it requires taking the att.i.tude of the accused and not of the examiner. It is the former"s information and view-point that must be studied, and it often contains the most perverted view-points; e. g., one man denies out of mere obstinacy because he believes that his guilt is increased by this or that fact. The proposition: who has stolen one thing, has also stolen the rest, has slight justification.
(c) If a denying fellow-criminal is accused by a confession, the interpretation of the latter becomes difficult. First of all, the pure kernel of the confession must be brought to light, and everything set aside that might serve to free the confessor and involve the other in guilt. This portion of the work is comparatively the easiest, inasmuch as it depends upon the circ.u.mstances of the crime. It is more difficult to determine what degree of crime the confessor attached to himself by accusing also the other man, because clearness can be reached in such a case only by working out the situation from beginning to end in two directions; first, by studying it without reference to the fellow-criminal, second, with such reference. The complete elimination of the additional circ.u.mstance is exceedingly troublesome because it requires the complete control of the material
and because it is always psychologically difficult so to exclude an event already known in its development and inference as to be able to formulate a theory quite without reference to it.