CHAPTER XVIII.

INFAMY.

Infamy is a sign of public disapprobation, depriving a criminal of the

good-will of his countrymen, of their confidence, and of that feeling

almost of fraternity that a common life inspires. It does not depend upon

the laws. Hence the infamy which the laws inflict should be the same

as that which arises from the natural relations of things, the same as

that taught by universal morality, or by that particular morality, which

depends on particular systems, and sets the law for ordinary opinions

or for this and that nation. If the one kind of infamy is different

from the other, either the law loses in public esteem, or the ideas of

morality and honesty disappear, in spite of declamations, which are never

efficacious against facts. Whoever declares actions to be infamous which

are in themselves indifferent, detracts from the infamy of actions that

are really in themselves infamous.

Corporal and painful punishments should not be inflicted for those

crimes which have their foundation in pride, and draw from pain itself

their glory and nutriment. For such crimes ridicule and infamy are more

fitted, these being penalties which curb the pride of fanatics by the

pride of the beholders, and only let truth itself escape their tenacity

by slow and obstinate efforts. By such an opposition of forces against

forces, and of opinions against opinions, the wise legislator destroys

that admiration and astonishment among a people, which a false principle

causes, whose original absurdity is usually hidden from view by the

plausible conclusions deduced from it.

Penalties of infamy ought neither to be too common, nor to fall upon too

many persons at a time; not too common, because the real and too frequent

effects of matters of opinion weaken the force of opinion itself; not too

general, because the disgrace of many persons resolves itself into the

disgrace of none of them.

This, then, is the way to avoid confounding the relations and invariable

nature of things, which, being unlimited by time and in ceaseless

operation, confounds and overturns all narrow regulations that depart

from it. It is not only the arts of taste and pleasure which have for

their universal principle the faithful imitation of nature; but the art

of politics itself, at least that which is true and permanent, is subject

to this general maxim, since it consists in nothing else than the art

of directing in the best way and to the same purposes the immutable

sentiments of mankind.

Crimes and Punishments Including a New Translation of Beccaria's 'Dei Delitti e delle Pene' · 第 18 / 42 章