ABSTRACT
There are some who think that a virtuous man is one who causes more happiness than misery to the world by his conduct. This view, however, will not bear a moment's examination. Of the many weighty and abstract arguments against it which have been adduced by metaphysicians, I will say nothing. It is a more homely consideration that has led me to adopt the opposite view. Consider a sensational murderer, a man, let us say, who murders a solitary and elderly miser, buries him in his garden, and is ultimately convicted by means of small particles of clay adhering to the soles of his boots. Such a man does more to further human happiness than falls to the lot of most philanthropists. I am thinking not only of the miser's heirs, or of the detectives who win promotion by bringing the crime home to its perpetrator; I am thinking of all the millions of family circles throughout the civilised world who for a moment forget their bickerings and boredoms in the excitement of a sensational case. Few things stir the heart of the public so much. Meanwhile the poor murderer, who has provided all this innocent happiness, wins none of the gratitude which should seem to be his due. Perhaps there might be some difficulty in rewarding him since this might make murders so common as to be uninteresting, but I think at least a statue might be put up to him after his execution to commemorate his disinterested public service. (I do not suggest that this should be done in Chicago, as the open spaces in that city are insufficient.)
The reason for the universal interest in sensational crime is a little obscure. I think it is made up of two parts: one is the pleasure of the hunt, and the other the imaginative release in the minds of those who would like to commit murders but dare not. I am afraid the pleasure of the hunt is a stronger element in human nature than most people are willing to recognise: it plays its part in all popular outbursts of moral indignation. Among
the head-hunters of Borneo it is indulged without the need of any moral claptrap, but civilised people cannot adequately enjoy the indulgence of their baser passions until they have cloaked them in a garment of lofty ethical sentiments. When people let loose upon a murderer the savage impulses of the head-hunter, they feel neither savage nor wicked but believe themselves to be upholders of virtue and good citizenship.
