We are talking of the future, though not perhaps of a very distant one. Let us deal with the present. The jury is still with us. Now the jury combines absolute moral competence with absolute technical incompetence. Democracy must always have incompetence in one form or another. A jury is independent of everybody, both of the Government and of the people, and in the best possible way, because it is the agent of the people without being elected. It does not seek re-election and is rather vexed than otherwise at being summoned to perform a disagreeable duty. On the other hand it always vacillates between two emotions, between pity and self-preservation, between feelings of humanity and the necessity for social protection; it is equally sensitive to the eloquence of the defending advocate, and the summing up of the prosecutor, and as these two influences balance each other it is in a perfect moral condition for delivering an equitable verdict.
For this reason the jury is of ancient origin, and has always been an institution in the land. At Athens the tribunal of the Heliasts formed a kind of jury, too numerous indeed and more like a public meeting, but still a sort of jury.
At Rome, a better regulated republic, there were certain citizens chosen by the prætor who settled questions of fact, that is to say, decided whether an act had or had not been committed, whether a sum of money had or had not been paid; and the question of law was reserved for the centumvirs.
In England the jury still exists and has existed for centuries.
These various peoples have considered very properly that juries are excellently adapted for forming equitable decisions, since they possess a greater moral competence for this particular function, than is to be found elsewhere.
This is true; but on the other hand a jury has no intelligence. In November 1909, a jury in the Côte d'Or before whom a murderer was being tried, declared (1) that this man did not strike the blows, (2) that the blows which he struck resulted in death. Thereupon the man was acquitted, although his violence, which never took place, had a murderous result.
In the Steinheil case in the same month and year, the jury's verdict involved (1) that no one had been assassinated in the Steinheils' house, and (2) that Mme Steinheil was not the daughter of Mme Japy. If a verdict were a judgment this would have put an end to all attempts to discover the assassins of M. Steinheil and Mme Japy, and on the other hand there would have been terrible social complications.