SECRET ACCUSATIONS.
Palpable but consecrated abuses, which in many nations are the necessary
results of a weak political constitution, are Secret Accusations. For
they render men false and reserved, and whoever may suspect that he sees
in his neighbour an informer will see in him an enemy. Men then come to
mask their real feelings, and by the habit of hiding them from others
they at last get to hide them from themselves. Unhappy they who have come
to that; who, without clear and fixed principles to guide them, wander
lost and confused in the vast sea of opinions, ever busied in saving
themselves from the horrors that oppress them, with the present moment
ever embittered by the uncertainty of the future, and without the lasting
pleasures of quiet and security, devouring in unseemly haste those few
pleasures, which occur at rare intervals in their melancholy lives and
scarcely console them for the fact of having lived! Is it of such men we
can hope to make intrepid soldiers, defenders of their country and crown?
Is it among such men we shall find incorrupt magistrates, able with their
free and patriotic eloquence to sustain and develop the true interests
of their sovereign, ready, with the tribute they bear, to carry to the
throne the love and blessings of all classes of men, and thence to bring
back to palaces and cottages alike peace and security, and that active
hope of ameliorating their lot which is so useful a leaven, nay, which is
the life of States?
Who can protect himself from calumny, when it is armed by the strongest
shield of tyranny, secrecy? What sort of government can that ever be
where in every subject a ruler suspects an enemy, and is obliged for the
sake of the general tranquillity to rob each individual of its possession?
What are the pretexts by which secret accusations and punishments are
justified? Are they the public welfare, the security and maintenance of
the form of government? But how strange a constitution is that, where
he who has force on his side, and opinion, which is even stronger than
force, is afraid of every citizen! Is then the indemnity of the accuser
the excuse? In that case the laws do not sufficiently defend him; and
shall there be subjects stronger than their sovereign? Or is it to save
the informer from infamy? What! secret calumny be fair and lawful, and an
open one deserving of punishment! Is it, then, the nature of the crime?
If indifferent actions, or even useful actions, are called crimes, then
of course accusations and trials can never be secret enough. But how
can there be crimes, that is, public injuries, unless the publicity of
this example, by a public trial, be at the same time the interest of
all men? I respect every government, and speak of none in particular.
Circumstances are sometimes such that to remove an evil may seem utter
ruin when it is inherent in a national system. But had I to dictate new
laws in any forgotten corner of the universe, my hand would tremble and
all posterity would rise before my eyes before I would authorise such a
custom as that of secret accusations.
It has already been remarked by Montesquieu that public accusations are
more suited to republics, where the public good ought to be the citizens’
first passion, than to monarchies, where such a sentiment is very feeble,
owing to the nature of the government itself, and where the appointment
of officers to accuse transgressors of the law in the name of the public
is a most excellent institution. But every government, be it republican
or monarchical, ought to inflict upon a false accuser the same punishment
which, had the accusation been true, would have fallen upon the accused.