they see more and more the innocent punished by
attendance upon distant courts at great cost and inconvenience, to
give evidence upon points which seem to them unimportant, while the
guilty escape owing to technical difficulties which they can never
understand.[14]

The best way to remove these obstacles is to interpose officers
between the Thanadar and the magistrate, and arm them with judicial
powers to try minor cases, leaving an appeal open to the magistrate,
and to extend the final jurisdiction of the magistrate to a greater
range of crimes, though it should involve the necessity of reducing
the measure of punishment annexed to them.[15] Beccaria has justly
observed that 'Crimes are more effectually prevented by the certainty
than by the severity of punishment. The certainty of a small
punishment will make a stronger impression than the fear of one more
severe, if attended with the hope of escaping; for it is the nature
of mankind to be terrified at the approach of the smallest inevitable
evil; whilst hope, the best gift of Heaven, has the power of
dispelling the apprehensions of a greater, especially if supported by
examples of impunity, which weakness or avarice too frequently
affords.'

I ought to have mentioned that the police of a district, in our
Bengal territories, consists of a magistrate and his assistant, who
are European gentlemen of the Civil Service; and a certain number of
Thanadars, from twelve to sixteen, who preside over the different
sub-divisions of the district in which they reside with their
establishments. These Thanadars get twenty-five rupees a month, have
under them four or five Jemadars upon eight rupees, and thirty or
forty Barkandazes upon four rupees a month. The Jemadars are, most of
them, placed in charge of 'nakas', or sub-divisions of the Thanadar's
jurisdiction, the rest are kept at their headquarters, ready to move
to any point where their services may be required. These are all paid
by government; but there is in each village one watchman, and in
larger villages more than one, who are appointed by the heads of
villages, and paid by the communities, and required daily or
periodically to report all the police matters of their villages to
the Thanadars.[16]

The distance between the magistrates and Thanadars is at present
immeasurable; and an infinite deal of mischief is done by the latter
and those under them, of which the magistrates know nothing whatever.
In the first place,