CHAPTER XXIV.

THE MEASURE OF PUNISHMENTS.

We have seen that the true measure of crimes is the injury done to

society. This is one of those palpable truths which, however little

dependent on quadrants or telescopes for their discovery, and fully

within the reach of any ordinary intelligence, are yet, by a marvellous

combination of circumstances, only recognised clearly and firmly by

some few thinkers, belonging to every nationality and to every age. But

Asiatic ideas, and passions clothed with authority and power, have,

generally by imperceptible movements, sometimes by violent assaults on

the timid credulity of mankind, dissipated those simple notions, which

perhaps formed the first philosophy of primitive communities, and to

which the enlightenment of this age seems likely to reconduct us, but

to do so with that greater sureness, which can be gained from an exact

investigation into things, from a thousand unhappy experiences, and from

the very obstacles that militate against it.

They who have thought that the criminal’s intention was the true measure

of crimes were in the wrong. For the intention depends on the actual

impression of things upon a man, and on his precedent mental disposition,

things which vary in all men and in each man, according to the very

rapid succession of his ideas, his passions, and his circumstances. It

would, therefore, be necessary to form not only a particular code for

each citizen, but a fresh law for every crime. Sometimes with the best

intentions men do the greatest evil to society; and sometimes with the

very worst they do it the greatest good.

Others again measure crimes rather by the rank of the person injured

than by their importance in regard to the public weal. Were this the

true measure of crimes, any act of irreverence towards the Supreme Being

should be punished more severely than the assassination of a monarch,

whereas the superiority of His nature affords an infinite compensation

for the difference of the offence.

Lastly, some have thought that the gravity of an act’s sinfulness should

be an element in the measure of crimes. But an impartial observer of the

true relations between man and man, and between man and God, will easily

perceive the fallacy of this opinion. For the former relationship is one

of equality; necessity alone, from the clash of passions and opposing

interests, having given rise to the idea of the _public utility_, the

basis of human justice. But the other relationship is one of dependence

on a perfect Being and Creator, who has reserved to Himself alone the

right of being at the same time legislator and judge, and can alone

unite the two functions without bad effects. If He has decreed eternal

punishments to those who disobey His omnipotence, what insect shall

dare to take the place of Divine justice, or shall wish to avenge that

Being, who is all-sufficient to Himself, who can receive from things no

impression of pleasure nor of pain, and who alone of all beings acts

without reaction? The degree of sinfulness in an action depends on the

unsearchable wickedness of the heart, which cannot be known by finite

beings without a revelation. How, then, found thereon a standard for the

punishment of crimes? In such a case men might punish when God pardons,

and pardon when God punishes. If men can act contrary to the Almighty by

offending Him, they may also do so in the punishments they inflict.

Crimes and Punishments Including a New Translation of Beccaria's 'Dei Delitti e delle Pene' · 第 24 / 42 章