couple by the road, intending to make them go back or kill the escort.  After spending sleepless nights over his ruling desire for a full year, he at last attempted its execution—­that is, attempted to disfigure the young woman.  It was a success.  It was permanent.  In trying to shoot her cheek (as she sat at the supper-table with her parents and brothers and sisters) in such a manner as to mar its comeliness, one of his bullets wandered a little out of the course, and she dropped dead.  To the very last moment of his life he bewailed the ill luck that made her move her face just at the critical moment.  And so he died, apparently about half persuaded that somehow it was chiefly her own fault that she got killed.  This idiot was hanged.  The plea, of insanity was not offered.

Insanity certainly is on the increase in the world, and crime is dying out.  There are no longer any murders—­none worth mentioning, at any rate.  Formerly, if you killed a man, it was possible that you were insane—­but now, if you, having friends and money, kill a mate, it is evidence that you are a lunatic.  In these days, too, if a person of good family and high social standing steals anything, they call it kleptomania, and send him to the lunatic asylum.  If a person of high standing squanders his fortune in dissipation, and closes his career with strychnine or a bullet, “Temporary Aberration” is what was the trouble with him.

Is not this insanity plea becoming rather common?  Is it not so common that the reader confidently expects to see it offered in every criminal case that comes before the courts?  And is it not so cheap, and so common, and often so trivial, that the reader smiles in derision when the newspaper mentions it?

And is it not curious to note how very often it wins acquittal for the prisoner?  Of late years it does not seem possible for a man to so conduct himself, before killing another man, as not to be manifestly insane.  If he talks about the stars, he is insane.  If he appears nervous and uneasy an hour before the killing, he is insane.  If he weeps over a great grief, his friends shake their heads, and fear that he is “not right.”  If, an hour after the murder, he seems ill at ease, preoccupied, and excited, he is, unquestionably insane.

Really, what we want now, is not laws against crime, but a law against insanity.  There is where the true evil lies.

A CURIOUS DREAM

CONTAINING A MORAL

Night before last I had a singular dream.  I seemed to be sitting on a doorstep (in no particular city perhaps) ruminating, and the time of night appeared to be about twelve or one o’clock.  The weather was balmy and delicious.  There was no human sound in the air, not even a footstep.  There was no sound of any kind to emphasize the dead stillness, except the occasional hollow barking of a dog in the distance and the fainter answer of a