CHAPTER VIII

MORALITY AND LEGAL JUSTICE

I

The _absolute_ moral principle, the _demand_, namely, or the

_commandment_ to be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect, or to

realise in ourselves the image and likeness of God, already contains in

its very nature the recognition of the _relative_ element in morality.

For it is clear that the demand for perfection can only be addressed

to a being who is imperfect; urging him to _become_ like the higher

being, the commandment presupposes the lower stages and the relative

degrees of advance. Thus, the absolute moral principle or the perfect

good is for us, to use Hegel’s language, a unity of itself and its

other, a synthesis of the absolute and the relative. The existence of

the relative or the imperfect, as distinct from the absolute good,

is a fact not to be got over, and to deny it, to _confuse_ the two

terms, or, with the help of dialectical tricks and on the strength of

mystical emotions, to affirm them as identical, would be false. Equally

false, however, is the opposite course--the _separation_, namely, of

the relative from the absolute, as of two wholly distinct spheres

which have nothing in common. From this dualistic point of view man

himself, whose striving towards the absolute is inseparably connected

with relative conditions, proves to be the incarnation of absurdity.

The only rational point of view, which both reason and conscience

compel us to adopt, consists in recognising that the actual duality

between the relative and the absolute resolves itself for us into a

free and complete unity (but not by any means into an empty identity

of indifference) through the real and moral process of approaching

perfection--a process ranging from the rigid stone to the glory and

freedom of the sons of God.

At each stage the relative is connected with the absolute as a means

for _concretely_ bringing about the perfection of all; and this

connection justifies the lesser good as a condition of the greater. At

the same time it justifies the absolute good itself, which would not

be absolute if it could not connect with itself or include in one way

or another all concrete relations. And indeed, nowhere in the world

accessible to us do we find the two terms in separation or in their

bare form. Everywhere the absolute principle is clothed with relative

forms, and the relative is inwardly connected with the absolute and

held together by it. The difference lies simply in the comparative

predominance of one or the other aspect.

When some two species of concrete relations or some two domains within

which they are exemplified are separated from and opposed to one

another, one being regarded as absolute and another as purely relative

in meaning, we may be certain that the opposition itself is purely

relative. Each of the two domains is simply a special instance of the

relation between the absolute and the relative,--relation different in

form and degree, but identical in nature and supreme purpose. And it is

in this relation of both to the absolute that the positive connection

or the unity of the two consists.

Within the limits of the active or practical life of humanity there

is apparent opposition between the moral sphere in the strict sense

and the sphere of legal justice. From ancient times, beginning with

the pagan Cynics and the Christian gnostics, and down to our own day,

this opposition has been taken to be unconditional. Morality alone has

been regarded as absolute, and legal justice, as a purely conventional

phenomenon, has been rejected in the name of the absolute demands. One

immediately feels that this view is false, but moral philosophy compels

us to disregard this feeling which may, after all, be deceptive, and to

consider the true relation between morality and legal justice from the

standpoint of the absolute good. Is this good justified by its relation

to justice? A person interested in etymology may note that the answer

is already contained in the terms of the question. This philological

circumstance will be discussed further on, but it must not as such

prejudge the philosophic problem.

II

In his lectures on Criminal Law Professor N. S. Tagantsev quotes, among

other things, the following Prussian enactment of the year 1739:

“If an advocate or a procurator or any similar person ventures to

present any petition to his Royal Majesty, either personally or through

somebody else, it is the pleasure of his Royal Majesty that the

aforesaid person should be hanged without mercy, and a dog be hanged by

the side of him.”

Of the legality or conformity to law of the enactment in question

there can be no doubt; and there can be equally no doubt of its being

opposed to the most elementary demands of justice. The opposition seems

to be intentionally emphasised by extending the punishment of the

advocate or procurator to the perfectly innocent dog. Similar, though

not such glaring cases of disagreement between morality and positive

right, between justice and law, are frequently met with in history.

The question must then be asked, how is this fact to be regarded, and

which of the two conflicting principles are we to adopt in practical

life? The answer appears to be clear. Moral demands have an inherent

character of being absolutely binding, which may be entirely absent

from the enactments of positive law. Hence the conclusion seems

legitimate that the question as to the relation between morality and

legal justice is settled by a simple rejection of the latter as a

binding principle of action. All human relations must accordingly be

reduced to purely moral interaction, and the sphere of the legal or

juridical determinations and relations must be entirely rejected.

This conclusion is very easily thought of, but is also extremely

thoughtless. This ‘antinomy,’ or the absolute opposition between

morality and law, has never subjected its fundamental assumption to any

consistent or far-reaching criticism.

That a formally legal enactment, such as the edict of the king of

Prussia, quoted above, is opposed to the demands of morality is only

too obvious. But it may well be that it is also opposed to the demands

of legal justice itself. The possibility of conflict between the

formal legality of certain actions and the essence of legal justice

will become clearer to the reader if I give a concrete instance of an

analogous conflict between the formally-moral character of an action

and the true nature of morality.

It was reported in the papers a little while ago that a woman suspected

of causing the illness of a boy by means of a bewitched apple was

terribly injured and almost killed by the crowd in the centre of

Moscow--near St. Panteleimon’s Chapel in Nikolsky Street. Now these

people acted independently of any interested motives or external

considerations; they had no personal enmity to the woman and no

personal interest in beating her; their sole motive was the feeling

that so outrageous a crime as the poisoning of an innocent babe by

means of sorcery ought to meet with just retribution. Thus it cannot

be denied that their behaviour had a formally-moral character, though

every one will agree that it certainly was essentially immoral. If,

however, the fact that revolting crimes may be committed from purely

moral motives does not lead us to reject morality as such, there is

no reason why such essentially unjust, though legal, enactments as

the Prussian law of 1739 should be regarded as sufficient ground for

rejecting legal justice. In the case of the crime in Nikolsky Street

it is not the moral principle that is at fault, but the insufficient

development of the moral consciousness in the half-savage crowd; in the

case of the absurd Prussian law it is not the idea of legal justice or

law that is at fault, but only the small degree to which the idea of

justice was developed in the consciousness of King Friedrich-Wilhelm.

It would not be worth while to discuss the subject were it not for

the bad habit, which has become established of late, especially with

reference to legal questions, to deduce, contrary to logic, general

conclusions from concrete particular instances.

III

It is not legal justice and morality that conflict and are incompatible

with one another, but the different states both of the legal and

the moral consciousness. Apart from these states and their concrete

expressions, there exist, however, in the domain of legal justice,

just as much as in the domain of morality, abiding and essential norms,

the presence of which is unconsciously admitted even by the spirit of

lying, in his sophistic attack on jurisprudence:

All rights and laws are still transmitted

Like an eternal sickness of the race,--

From generation unto generation fitted

And shifted round from place to place.

Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry:

Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee.

The right born with us, ours in verity

This to consider, there’s, alas! no hurry.

Even Mephistopheles recognises this _natural right_, and merely

complains that it is ignored.[167] In truth, however, it is referred

to whenever a question of right arises. No fact belonging to the legal

sphere, no expression of legal justice, can be judged of except by

reference to a general conception or norm of justice. Mephistopheles

himself applies this conception or norm when he says that certain

rights and laws, once rational and beneficial, have become senseless

and mischievous. He indicates here one aspect of the case only, namely,

the so-called _conservatism_ of legal justice. This fact, too, has its

rational foundation, and the disadvantages which it involves, and upon

which Mephistopheles exclusively dwells, are cancelled by another fact,

not mentioned by the spirit of lying for his own reasons--the fact,

namely, that legal consciousness gradually develops, and that legal

enactments are, as a fact, improved. This unquestionable _progress_

in the domain of legal justice can be shown even in the case of

the unjust law quoted above. I do not simply mean that enactments

like the Prussian edict of 1739 have become utterly impossible in

any European country, and that the penalty of death even for the

worst and unquestionable crimes has long been condemned by the best

representatives of the legal profession. I contend that this edict

itself meant unquestionable progress in comparison with the state of

things which had once prevailed in Brandenburg and Pomerania, as in the

rest of Europe, when every powerful baron could calmly put peaceful

people to death for motives of personal vengeance, or for the sake of

seizing their property. At the time of Frederick the Great’s father

it was the king alone who had the power to take a man’s life, and, in

doing so, he had no personal or selfish purpose in view. It is obvious,

indeed, that Friedrich Wilhelm’s object in composing his edict was

to put down denunciation and slander by the threat of the penalty of

death, and not actually to deprive of life advocates, procurators, and

dogs. The barons of the old times were unquestionably guilty of murder

and robbery, but the king, even when publishing the revolting edict,

was still acting as the guardian of justice, though at a very low level

of legal consciousness.

This difference of degree, this actual progress in legal justice, the

steady advance of the legal enactments towards legal norms, conformable

to, though not identical with, the moral demands, sufficiently proves

that the relation between the two principles is not merely negative.

It shows that it is unpermissible from the point of view of morality

itself to dismiss the whole range of legal facts and problems by a

simple and meaningless rejection of them.

IV

The relation between the moral and the legal sphere is one of the

fundamental questions of practical philosophy. It is really the

question as to the relation between the ideal moral consciousness

and the actual life. The vitality and the fruitfulness of the moral

consciousness depends upon this relation being understood in a positive

sense. Between the ideal good on the one hand and the evil reality

on the other lies the intermediate sphere of law and justice, whose

function is to give concrete embodiment to the good, to limit and to

correct the evil. Justice and its embodiment--the state--condition the

actual organisation of the moral life of humanity. Moral preaching

which takes up a negative attitude towards justice as such could have

no objective basis or means of expression in the real environment that

is foreign to it, and would remain at best an innocent pastime. If,

on the other hand, the formal conceptions and institutions of legal

justice were completely severed from the moral principles and purposes,

legality would lose its absolute basis and become purely arbitrary.

Indeed, in order consistently to carry out the separation between

legal right and morality it would be necessary to give up the ordinary

use of speech, which, in all languages, unmistakably testifies to

the fundamental inner relation between the two ideas. The conception

of right and the correlative conception of duty form so essential a

part of the system of moral ideas that they may serve as a direct

expression of them. Every one understands and no one would dispute such

moral affirmations as: I am conscious of the _duty_ to abstain from

everything shameful, or, what is the same thing, I recognise that human

dignity (in my own person) has a _right_ to my respect; it is my _duty_

to help my neighbours as much as in me lies and to serve the common

good, _i.e._ my neighbours and society as a whole have a _right_ to my

help and service; finally, it is my _duty_ to harmonise my will with

what I regard as the highest of all, or, in other words, the absolutely

highest has a _right_ to a religious attitude on my part (which is the

ultimate basis of all religious worship).

There is not a single moral relation which could not be correctly and

intelligibly expressed in terms of right. One would think that nothing

could be more remote from the juridical order of ideas than love for

one’s enemies. And yet if the supreme moral law proclaims it my _duty_

to love my enemies, it is clear that my enemies have a _right_ to my

love. If I deny love to them, I act unjustly, I sin against what is

_right_. Here we have a term which alone embodies the essential unity

of the juridical and the moral principles.[168] For rights are nothing

more than the expression of what is right, and, on the other hand, all

virtues[169] are reducible to the idea of right or justice, _i.e._

to what is right or due in the ethical sense. This is not a case of

accidental similarity of terms, but of essential homogeneity and inner

connection of the ideas themselves.

It does not, of course, follow that the sphere of legal justice and

morality coincide, or that the moral and the juridical conceptions

should be confused. One thing only is indisputable, namely, that

there is a positive and intimate relation between the two spheres,

which does not permit of one being rejected in the name of the other.

The question, then, is in what precisely does the connection and the

difference between them consist.

V

The fact that we speak of _moral right_ and moral duty, on the one hand

proves the absence of any fundamental opposition or incompatibility of

the moral and the juridical principles, and, on the other, indicates an

essential difference between them. In designating a given right (_e.g._

the right of my enemy to my love) as _moral_ only, we imply that in

addition to the moral there exist other rights, _i.e._ rights in a more

restricted sense, or that there exists _right as such_, which is not

directly and immediately characterised as moral. Take, on the one hand,

the duty of loving our enemies and their corresponding right to our

love, and on the other, take the duty to pay one’s debts, or the duty

not to rob and murder one’s neighbours and their corresponding right

not to be robbed, murdered, or deceived by us. It is obvious that there

is an essential difference between the two kinds of relation, and that

only the second of them falls within the scope of justice in the narrow

sense of the term.

The difference can be reduced to three main points:

(1) A purely moral demand, such, _e.g._, as the love for one’s

enemies, is unlimited or all-embracing in nature; it presupposes moral

perfection, or, at any rate, an unlimited striving towards perfection.

Every limitation admitted as a matter of _principle_ is opposed to

the nature of the moral commandment and undermines its dignity and

significance. If a person gives up the absolute moral ideal as a

principle, he gives up morality itself and leaves the moral ground.

Juridical law, on the contrary, is essentially limited, as is clearly

seen in all cases of its application. In the place of perfection it

demands the lowest, the minimum degree of morality, that is, simply,

actual restraint of certain manifestations of the immoral will. This

distinction, however, is not an opposition leading to real conflict.

From the moral point of view it cannot be denied that the demand

conscientiously to fulfil monetary obligations, to abstain from

murder, robbery, etc., is a demand for what is good--though extremely

elementary--and not for what is evil. It is clear that if we ought to

love our enemies, it goes without saying that we ought to respect the

life and property of all fellow-men. The higher commandments cannot be

fulfilled without observing the lower. As to the juridical side of the

matter, though the civil or the penal law does not demand the supreme

moral perfection, it is not opposed to it. Forbidding every one to

murder or be fraudulent, it cannot, and indeed has no need to, prevent

any one from loving his enemies. Thus with regard to this point (which

in certain moral theories is erroneously taken to be the only important

one), the relation between the two principles of the practical life may

be only expressed by saying that _legal justice is the lowest limit or

the minimum degree of morality_.

(2) The unlimited character of the purely moral demands leads to

another point of difference. The way in which such demands are to

be fulfilled is not definitely prescribed, nor is it limited to any

concrete external manifestations or material actions. The commandment

to love one’s enemies does not indicate, except as an example,

what precisely we ought to do in virtue of that love, _i.e._ which

particular actions we ought to perform and from which to abstain. At

the same time, if love is expressed by means of definite actions, the

moral commandment cannot be regarded as already fulfilled by these

actions and as demanding nothing further. The task of fulfilling

the commandment, which is an expression of the absolute perfection,

remains infinite. Juridical laws, on the contrary, prescribe or

prohibit perfectly definite external actions, with the performance

or non-performance of which the law is satisfied and demands nothing

further. If I produce in due time the money I am owing, and pass it

to my creditor, if I do not murder or rob any one, etc., the law is

satisfied and wants nothing more from me. This difference between the

moral and the juridical law once more involves no contradiction. The

demand for the moral inner disposition, so far from excluding external

actions, directly presupposes them as its own proof or justification.

No one would believe in the inward goodness of a man if it never

showed itself in any works of mercy. On the other hand, the request

to perform definite actions is in no way opposed to the inner states

corresponding to them, though it does not demand them. Both the moral

and the juridical laws are concerned with the inner being of man, with

his will; but while the first takes this will in its universality and

entirety, the second has only to do with particular expressions of it

in respect of certain external facts, which fall within the province

of justice in the narrow sense,--such as the inviolability of the

life and property of each person, etc. What is of importance from the

juridical point of view is precisely the objective expression of our

will in committing or in refraining from certain actions. This is

another essential characteristic of legal justice, and, in addition to

the original definition of it as a certain minimum of morality, we may

now say that legal justice is the demand for the _realisation_ of this

minimum, _i.e._ for _carrying out a certain minimum of the good_, or,

what is the same thing, for doing away with a certain amount of evil.

Morality in the strict sense is immediately concerned, not with the

external realisation of the good, but with its inner existence in the

heart of man.

(3) This second distinction involves a third one. The demand for moral

perfection as an inner state presupposes free or voluntary fulfilment.

Not only physical but even psychological compulsion is here, from

the nature of the case, both undesirable and impossible. External

realisation of a certain uniform order, on the contrary, admits of

direct or indirect _compulsion_. And in so far as the direct and

immediate purpose of legal justice is precisely the realisation or the

external embodiment of a certain good--_e.g._ of public safety--in so

far the compelling character of the law is a necessity; for no genuine

person could seriously maintain that by means of verbal persuasion

alone all murders, frauds, etc., could be immediately stopped.

VI

Combining the three characteristics indicated we obtain the following

definition of legal justice in its relation to morality: _legal justice

is a compulsory demand for the realisation of a definite minimum of the

good, or for a social order which excludes certain manifestations of

evil_.

The question has now to be asked, what is the ground for such a

demand, and in what way is this compulsory order compatible with the

purely moral order, which apparently by its very nature excludes all

compulsion. It may be urged that once the perfect good is established

in consciousness as an ideal, each ought to be allowed freely to

realise it as much as in him lies. Why, it will be said, make into a

law the compulsory minimum of morality, when we ought freely to fulfil

the maximum? Why declare under penalty, ‘Thou shalt not kill,’ when we

ought mildly to exhort people not to be angry?

All this would be perfectly true were the moral problem a theoretical

one and were the perfect good compatible with selfish impassibility or

indifference to the sufferings of others. But since the true conception

of the good _necessarily_ includes the principle of altruism, which

demands corresponding behaviour on our part, _i.e._ demands that

compassion for the ills of others should prompt us actively to save

them from evil, moral duty certainly requires us to do more than simply

to profess the perfect ideal. In the natural course of things, which

ought not to be approved of or acquiesced in, but which it is childish

not to take into account, what would happen is this: whilst some would

be freely striving towards the supreme ideal and grow perfect in

impassibility, others would exercise themselves, unhindered, in every

conceivable crime and would certainly exterminate the first before they

could attain a high degree of moral perfection. But even supposing

that men of good will were by some miracle saved from extermination by

the bad ones, these good men themselves would obviously prove to be

_insufficiently_ good if they would be content with pious conversations

about the good, instead of actively helping their neighbours and

protecting them against the extreme and destructive forms of evil.

Moral interest demands personal freedom as a condition apart from

which human dignity and higher moral development is impossible. But

man cannot exist, and, consequently, cannot perfect his freedom and

his moral nature apart from society. Moral interest therefore demands

that personal freedom should not conflict with the conditions which

render the existence of society possible. This demand cannot be carried

into effect by means of the ideal of moral perfection, which the

individual is to attain by his own free efforts. For the essential

practical purpose before us this ideal gives both too much and too

little--its demands are too great and its concrete results too small.

Of the person who recognises it, the ideal demands that he should love

his enemies; but it cannot compel those _who do not recognise_ its

demands to abstain even from murder and robbery. The strict moralist

will perhaps say, ‘We don’t want people to abstain from crimes unless

they do so voluntarily’; but in saying this he would be guilty of

obvious injustice. He will have forgotten to ask the opinion of the

plundered people themselves and of the families whose members have been

murdered--as though the injury they had suffered is the ground for

regarding them as completely rightless.

The moral law has been given to man ‘that he might live thereby’;

and if human society did not exist, morality would remain merely an

abstract idea. The existence of society, however, depends not on the

perfection of some, but on the security of all. This security is not

guaranteed by the moral law, which is non-existent for persons in

whom anti-social instincts predominate, but it is safeguarded by the

compulsory law which has actual power over every one. To appeal to

the gracious power of Providence to restrain and exhort lunatics and

criminals is sheer blasphemy. It is impious to lay upon the Deity that

which can be successfully performed by a good legal system.

The moral principle demands, then, that men should freely seek

perfection. To this end the existence of society is necessary. Society

cannot exist if each person wishing to do so may, without let or

hindrance, rob and murder his neighbours. Hence the compulsory law,

which actually prevents these extreme expressions of the evil will, is

a _necessary condition of moral perfection_; as such it is demanded by

the moral principle itself, though it is not a direct expression of it.

Let it be granted that the highest morality, on its ascetic side,

demands that I should be indifferent to the prospect of being killed,

mutilated, or robbed. But the same supreme morality on its altruistic

side does not permit me to remain indifferent to the fact that my

neighbours may, without interference from any one, become murderers or

be murdered, robbers or the robbed, and that society, apart from which

the individual cannot live and develop, should run the risk of being

destroyed. Such indifference would be a clear sign of moral death.

The demand for personal liberty presupposes for its realisation the

restriction of that liberty to the extent in which, at the given state

of humanity, it is incompatible with the existence of society or with

the common good. From the point of view of abstract thought there

appears to be an opposition between these two interests, both of which

are equally binding morally. In reality, however, they coincide, and

legal justice is the offspring of their union.

VII

The principle of legal justice may be considered in the abstract,

and in that case it is simply a direct expression of moral justice.

I affirm my freedom as my right in so far as I recognise the freedom

of others as their right; but the conception of right necessarily

involves, as we have seen, an objective element, or a demand to be

realised. Right must be capable of realisation: that is, the freedom

of others, whether recognised by me or not, must, independently of my

personal feeling of justice, restrict my freedom within limits equally

binding upon every one. This demand for compulsory justice follows from

the idea of the common good or public interest, or, what is the same

thing, from the idea of the realisation of the good, which inevitably

requires that justice should be an actual fact and not an idea merely.

The degree and the means of the realisation depend, of course, upon the

state of the moral consciousness in the given society and upon other

historical conditions. The natural right thus becomes the positive

right, and can, from this point of view, be formulated as follows:

_legal justice is the historically changeable determination of the

necessary equilibrium, maintained by compulsion, between two moral

interests--that of personal freedom and of the common good_.

It would be a fatal confusion of ideas to believe that justice has for

its purpose material equalisation of private interests. Justice as

such has nothing to do with this. It is concerned only with the two

main factors of human life--the freedom of the individual and the good

of society. When legal justice limits itself to this and does not

introduce the element of compulsion into private relations, it does

the best service to morality. The individual must be moral by his free

choice, and for that he must have _a certain freedom to be immoral_.

Within certain limits justice secures this freedom to him, though it in

no way inclines him to take advantage of it. Had not the creditor the

right to compel his debtor to pay the money owing to him, he would not

be able by a free moral act to renounce his right and to forgive a poor

man his debt. On the other hand, the fact that the debtor is compelled

to abide by the obligation he has freely entered upon, preserves his

freedom and his full rights in relation to the creditor: he is not

dependent upon the creditor’s will but upon his own decision and the

law of the land. The interest of individual freedom coincides in this

case with the interest of the common good, since without the security

of free contracts there can be no normal social life.

The harmony of the two moral interests is still more obvious in the

case of the penal law. It is clear that the freedom of the individual,

or his natural right to live and to strive for perfection, would be an

empty sound if it depended upon the whim of every other individual who

might want to murder or to cripple his neighbour, or to deprive him of

the means of subsistence. It is our moral right to defend our freedom

and safety from the attacks made upon it by the evil will of others,

and it is our moral duty to help other people to do the same. This

common duty is discharged for the benefit of all by the penal law.

Legal compulsion in this sphere secures the freedom of peaceful

citizens, but it leaves sufficient room for the exercise of evil

propensities and compels no one to be virtuous. A malicious man may, if

he likes, give vent to his malice in evil-speaking, intrigues, slander,

quarrels, etc. It is only when the evil will attacks the objective

public rights of the individuals, and threatens the security of society

itself, that it becomes necessary for the sake of the common good,

which coincides with the freedom of peaceful citizens, to limit the

freedom of evil. In the interests of freedom, legal justice allows men

to be wicked, and does not interfere with their free choice between

good and evil. But in the interests of the common good it prevents the

evil man from becoming an _evil-doer_, dangerous to the very existence

of society. The purpose of legal justice is not to transform the world

which lies in evil into the kingdom of God, but only to prevent it from

changing _too soon_ into hell.

Such premature hell has threatened and, to a certain extent, still

threatens humanity _on two sides_. The normal society, that is, a

society that leads a secure and worthy existence and progresses towards

perfection, is conditioned by the proper balance being maintained

between the individual and the collective interest. Hence, anomalies

perilous to society may arise either from the excess of individual

power, breaking up the social solidarity, or, on the contrary, from the

excess of social control crushing the individual. The first anomaly

menaces humanity with the burning hell of anarchy; the second, with

the icy hell of despotism, _i.e._ of the same anarchy or arbitrariness

concentrated at one point and pressing upon society from without.

In actual history the balance between free individual powers and the

collective power of the social organisation is, of course, movable

and variable, made up of a number of particular deviations and

rectifications. But the very fact that we _note_ these variations is

sufficient to prove that above them lie the abiding norms of social

and individual relations--the eternal boundaries which spring from the

very nature of morality, and cannot, without fatal consequences, be

overstepped by society either in the one direction or in the other. The

most universal and in this sense the most important of these boundaries

is that which limits the _compelling_ power of social organisations

to the domain of the objective or practical good, leaving all the

rest, _i.e._ all the inner or spiritual world of man, to the entire

responsibility of individuals and of free associations. To defend the

life and property of every one against the attacks of external and

internal enemies, to secure to all the necessary education, food,

medical assistance, and all that is connected therewith (means of

communication, post, etc.),--this is the practical good which can and

ought to be realised by the organised power of the society. For this

end society must inevitably impose certain restrictions or liabilities.

The _compulsory_ character of these restrictions is _specific_ only,

for it is clear that a person who, for instance, voluntarily abstains

from crimes does not experience any personal inconvenience from the

legal and penal institutions. Speaking generally, all restrictions due

to the necessary organisation of social forces are as little opposed to

individual freedom as the fact that if I intend to buy a thing I must

pay for it, or that if I do not want to get wet in the rain I must take

an umbrella.

The _essential_ characteristic of the good which is conditioned by

the organisation of legal justice in society is not its compulsory

character--which is merely a possible consequence of it--but _the

direct objectivity of its aim_. What is above all things important is

that certain things should and certain things should not _exist as a

fact_. It is important that there should be protection against savage

peoples, so that they should not burn and destroy towns and villages;

it is important that evil men should not rob and murder the wayfarers;

it is important that the population should not be exterminated by

diseases; it is important that every one should have access to

intellectual education and enlightenment.

These necessary goods are external in character, and the way to obtain

them is also external, admitting of compulsion where it is inevitable.

To the immediate, essential work of the law courts, hospitals, schools,

it makes no difference whatever whether they are supported by voluntary

subscriptions or by compulsory taxation. The same thing, however,

cannot be said of spiritual goods, which from their very nature cannot

be compulsory. There are, in the last resort, two such goods for man:

virtue, _i.e._ _inner inclination of our will to the good as such_, and

truth or right belief, _i.e._ _inner agreement of our reason with truth

as such_. It is clear from these definitions alone that freedom or

spontaneousness forms an essential part of both the spiritual or inward

goods. Therefore all compulsory external action in this sphere is, in

the first place, _a fraud_. The purpose of _externally_ compelling

or forcing a man to have an inner, _i.e._ an _inwardly_ determined,

disposition for the good, or an inner receptivity for the true,

cannot possibly be achieved, and is indeed a logical contradiction or

absurdity; and to use compulsion to no purpose is obviously an evil.

Hence, all compulsory measures with regard to spiritual things in the

supposed interests of truth and virtue are nothing other than the use

of evil means for a false purpose--an abuse in the fullest sense.

There are three kinds of violence in our world: (1) _brutal_ violence,

such as is committed by murderers, highwaymen, corrupters of children;

(2) _human_ violence, necessarily permitted by the compulsory

organisation of society for safeguarding the external goods of life;

and (3) violent intrusion of the external social organisation into the

spiritual life of man, with the false purpose of safeguarding the inner

goods--a species of violence which is _wholly_ false and evil, and may

therefore justly be called _diabolical_.

VIII

From the nature of legal justice, which serves the external or the

objective good, it follows that truth and virtue must always remain a

private concern, and one which is perfectly free. In addition to the

principle of unlimited religious tolerance, certain other consequences

follow from this.

In the domain of the penal as well as of the civil law the freedom of

the individual is limited, not by the private or subjective interest of

other individuals _taken separately_, but by the good of all. Many vain

and self-conscious people would rather be plundered or even crippled

than suffer secret abuse, slander, and heartless condemnation. If,

therefore, legal justice aimed at the protection of private interest

as such, it would in cases of this kind have to limit the freedom of

slanderers and evil-speakers even more than the freedom of robbers and

men of violence. But it does not do so, for verbal insults are not so

detrimental to the safety of society, and do not indicate so menacing

a degree of evil will as the crimes against person and property. Even

if the law intended to cope with such actions, it would be impossible

for it to take into account all the forms and degrees of individual

sensibility to insults. And if it could do so, it would be unjust, for

it is impossible to prove that the guilty person intended to cause

the high degree of suffering which he did cause in reality. _Common_

law may only be guided by definite intentions and objective actions

which can be verified by every one. Besides, in the cases which do

not fall within the scope of penal law, the injured person may, if he

likes, avenge himself on the injurer by the same means. His freedom

in this respect is respected as much as that of his adversary. And if

he is morally superior to the latter, and thinks that he ought not to

avenge himself, he would not in any case have appealed to the law,

however sensible he may have been of the injury. If he abstains from

personal revenge, so much the better for him and for society, which

is at liberty freely to express its moral judgment. What matters from

the legal point of view is not the evil will _as such_, and not the

result of action, which may, _as such_, be accidental, but only the

connection of the intention with the result, or the extent to which the

evil will is realised in action. It matters to it because the degree

of realisation and the corresponding degree of danger to society may

be determined objectively and is an external evil, the protection from

which is an external good, admitting of legal compulsion.

IX

Since the essence of legal justice consists in maintaining the balance

between two moral interests--that of individual liberty and of the

common good, it is clear that though the latter interest may _limit_

the former it may not under any circumstances _abolish it_. For in that

case the balance would obviously be disturbed and disappear through the

destruction of one of the terms of the relation. Therefore measures

against the criminal should never go so far as to deprive him of

life or to take away his freedom for ever. Laws which permit capital

punishment, lifelong penal servitude, or lifelong solitary confinement

cannot be justified from the legal point of view--they contradict the

very nature of legal justice. Besides, the contention that in certain

cases the common good requires that a given person should be completely

done away with, involves a logical self-contradiction. Common good is

_common_ just because in a certain sense it contains the good of _all_

individual persons _without exception_; if it did not, it would be the

good of the majority. It does not follow that it therefore is a mere

sum of private interests, or that it allows of unlimited individual

freedom. This would be another contradiction, since the unlimited

freedom of one individual may, and actually does, conflict with the

liberty of others. But the conception of the _common good_ implies

with logical necessity that in _restricting_ particular interests and

activities within common bounds it cannot _do away with_ a single

bearer of such interests and activities by depriving him of life or

of all possibility of free action. The common good must, in one way

or another, be the good of _this individual also_. But if it deprives

him of existence and of the possibility of free action--that is, of

the possibility of any good at all--it ceases to be a good for him; it

itself then becomes merely a private interest, and therefore loses its

right to limit personal liberty.[170]

With reference to this point, too, we see that the demands of morality

entirely coincide with the essence of legal justice. Speaking

generally, although legal justice in exercising compulsion to secure

the minimum of good differs from morality in the strict sense, yet in

its exercise of compulsion it observes the demands of morality, and

must on no account conflict with it. If, therefore, some positive law

is opposed to the moral consciousness of the good, we may be _a priori_

certain that it does not satisfy the essential demands of justice

either. So far as such laws are concerned, it is not in the interests

of justice that they should be retained, but that they should be

_lawfully_ repealed.

X

External compulsion is one of the essential characteristics of the

norms of legal justice as distinct from moral norms in the strict

sense. Hence, justice from its very nature requires _guarantees_,

_i.e._ sufficient power to enforce the realisation of its norms.

Every person in virtue of his absolute moral worth has an inalienable

right to exist and to strive for perfection. This moral right would,

however, be an empty word were its actual realisation to depend

entirely upon external happenings and the arbitrary will of others. To

be real, a right must contain within itself the conditions of its own

realisation, _i.e._ it must be safeguarded from violation. The first

and essential condition of this is communal life, since a solitary man

is obviously powerless against the forces of nature, wild beasts, and

brutal men. But being the necessary _defence_ of individual liberty,

or of the natural rights of man, communal life involves at the same

time a _limitation_ of these rights--not an accidental or arbitrary

limitation, but one that follows from the nature of the case and is

inwardly binding. Making use of the social organisation to safeguard my

existence and free activity, I must recognise in my turn the right of

that organisation to exist and to exercise its authority over me--that

is, I must submit my activity to conditions that are necessary to

the existence and the development of society. In this case the two

interests coincide, for if I desire to realise my right, or to secure

for myself a sphere of free activity, I must determine the degree of

the realisation or the extent of the freedom in accordance with the

fundamental demands of the social good, apart from which there can be

no realisation of my rights at all nor _any_ safeguards of my freedom.

The individual’s subordination to society is in perfect agreement with

the absolute moral principle which does not sacrifice the particular

to the universal, but unites them by an inner bond of solidarity. In

surrendering to society his unlimited but insecure and unreal freedom,

the individual has his determined or rational freedom secured to

him--the sacrifice is as profitable as the exchange of a dead lion for

a living dog.

The definite limitation of personal freedom in given conditions of time

and place, in accordance with the demands of the common good, or, what

is the same thing, a certain balance or a constant harmony between

these two principles, is a positive right or _law_ in the strict sense.

Law, as such, is a universally recognised and impersonal--_i.e._

independent of personal opinions and desires--determination of right,

or an expression of a proper balance (under given conditions and in

certain respects), between individual liberty and the good of the

whole. It is a definition or a _general_ notion which finds concrete

realisation through particular judgments in the _individual_ cases or

instances.

Hence the three necessary characteristics of law are: (1) its

_publicity_; an enactment that is not made _generally_ known cannot

be universally binding, _i.e._ cannot be a positive law; (2) its

_concreteness_; it is the norm of some particular definite relations

in a given real environment and not the expression of any abstract

truth or ideal;[171] (3) its _real applicability_ in each _individual_

case; this is ensured by the law being always accompanied by a

‘sanction,’ _i.e._ by its holding out the threat of compulsory and

punitive measures if its demands are unfulfilled or its prohibitions

violated.[172]

In order that the sanction might not remain an empty threat the law

must be supported by some real power sufficient to carry its demands

into execution. In other words, justice must have its actual bearers or

representatives in society who would be sufficiently powerful to give a

binding force to the laws they publish and to the sentences they pass.

Such actual representatives of justice or agents of the law are called

_authorities_.

I am bound to demand that the social whole should safeguard my natural

rights in a way in which I myself am unable to safeguard them, and in

doing so I am bound in reason and conscience to recognise the positive

right of this social whole to use means and methods of action without

which it could not fulfil this necessary and desirable task. Namely,

I must leave to the social whole, (1) the power to issue generally

binding laws; (2) the power to judge, in accordance with these laws,

private affairs and actions; and (3) the power to compel each and all

to fulfil the legal verdicts and all other measures necessary for

general security and welfare.

It is clear that these three different powers--the legislative, the

judicial and the executive, though necessarily _distinct_, cannot be

_separate_, and ought on no account to conflict with one another:

they all have one and the same purpose--to serve the common good in

accordance with the law. Their unity finds its real expression in

their being equally subordinate to one supreme authority, invested

with all the positive rights of the social whole as such. This central

power finds immediate expression as legislative authority. Judicial

authority is conditioned by the first, since a court of justice is not

autonomous, but acts in accordance with a law that is binding upon it.

The first two authorities condition the third, which is concerned

with enforcing laws and verdicts. In virtue of this inner connection,

without the one supreme authority in one form or another there could

be neither universally binding laws, nor regular functioning of

justice, nor effective administration, and the purpose of social

organisation could not be attained. It is clear, of course, that the

due relationship between the three authorities is violated both by

separating and placing them in hostile opposition to one another, and

by confusing them and distorting their natural order. This happens, for

instance, when the second authority, the judicial one, is subordinate

not to the first but to the third, and is dependent not upon the law

but upon the different organs of the executive power.

The social body with a definite organisation, containing in itself the

fulness of positive rights or the one supreme authority, is called

_the state_. In every organism it is necessary to distinguish the

organising principle, the system of the organs or of the instruments

whereby the organisation is carried out and the totality of elements to

be organised. Corresponding to this, we distinguish in the collective

organism of the state, taken in the concrete, (1) the supreme

authority; (2) its different organs or subordinate authorities; (3)

the substratum of the state, _i.e._ the mass of the population of a

given territory, consisting of individuals, families and other more or

less broad private unions subordinate to the authority of the state.

In the state alone does justice find all the conditions necessary for

its concrete realisation, and from this point of view the state is the

_embodiment of justice_.

Without dwelling here upon the question as to the actual historical

origin and the supreme sanction of the state authority,[173] I have

simply indicated its _formal basis_ as the necessary condition of a

just organisation of society. In its simplest practical expression the

meaning of the state consists in subordinating, within its limits,

violence to justice, arbitrariness to legality, and replacing the

chaotic and destructive conflict of the particular elements of natural

humanity by a regular order of existence. Compulsion is exercised by

the state only in the last extremity, the extent of it is determined

beforehand in accordance with law, and it is justified by the fact that

it proceeds from a common and impartial authority. This authority,

however, extends only to the boundaries of the given state’s territory.

There is no supreme authority above individual states, and therefore

conflicts between them are in the last resort decided by means of

violence only--by _war_. That this fact contradicts the _absolute_

principle of morality, there can be no question. The _relative_

significance of war and the best means of abolishing it are the last

of the fundamental practical questions which the collective life of

historical humanity puts before the moral consciousness.

FOOTNOTES:

[167] Apart from the direct meaning of this remark, it may be regarded

as a kind of prophecy of the persecution which, a quarter of a century

after Goethe’s death, the idea of the natural right suffered in

jurisprudence. There are signs which show that this persecution is

coming to an end.

[168] In all languages, moral and juridical conceptions are expressed

either by the same terms or by terms derived from the same root. The

Russian _dolg_, like the Latin _debitum_ (hence the French _devoir_)

and the German _Schuld_ have both a moral and a juridical meaning; in

the case of δική and δικαιοσύνη, _jus_ and _justitia_, of the Russian

_pravo_ and _pravda_, the German _Recht_ and _Gerechtigkeit_, the

English _right_ and _righteousness_, the two meanings are distinguished

by the use of suffixes. Cp. also the Hebrew _tsedek_ and _tsedakàh_.

[169] See above, Part I., Chapter V.: “Virtues.”

[170] After what has been said in Chapter VI. on the penal question,

I need not explain that the moral principle not only permits but in

certain cases actually demands that the criminal should for a time be

deprived of liberty, both for his own good and for the sake of public

safety. But it is morally impossible to inflict the penalty of death,

or to pass a sentence depriving a man of liberty for the rest of his

life.

[171] Certain law-codes still preserve--on paper--enactments which

require that people should abstain from drunkenness, be pious, honour

their parents, etc. But such spurious laws are merely a vestige of the

primitive state in which the moral and the juridical conceptions were

confused or merged into one.

[172] The pious wishes of the lawgiver referred to in the last note are

not accompanied by any sanction, which fact sufficiently proves that

they are spurious laws.

[173] See above, Part III., Chapters I. and VI., and below, Chapters

IX. and X.

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