VII. CUSTOMS AND LAWS AS EXPRESSIONS OF MORAL IDEAS…

VII. CUSTOMS AND LAWS AS EXPRESSIONS OF MORAL IDEAS

MORAL ideas are expressed in moral judgments. We have hitherto examined the predicates of such judgments, the import and origin of the moral concepts. Now a much wider field or research remains for us to traverse. We shall direct our attention to the subjects of moral judgments, to the mass of phenomena which, among different peoples and in different ages, have had a tendency to call forth moral blame and moral praise. We shall discuss the general characteristics which all these phenomena have in common. We shall classify the most important of them, and study the moral ideas held with reference to the phenomena of each class separately. And in both cases we shall not only analyse, but try to find an answer to the question, Why?--the ultimate aim of all scientific research. But before entering upon this vast undertaking, we must define the lines on which it is to be conducted. How can we get an insight into the moral ideas of mankind at large?

In answering this question I need not dwell upon such obvious means of information as direct experience, or records of moral maxims and sentiments found in proverbs, literary and philosophical works, and religious codes. The sources which, from an evolutionary point of view, are of the most comprehensive importance for our study, are tribal and national customs and laws. It is to these sources that the present chapter will be devoted.

{159} We have seen that a custom, in the strict sense of the word, is not merely the habit of a certain circle of men, but at the same time involves a moral rule. There is a close connection between these two characteristics of custom: its habitualness and its obligatoriness. Whatever be the foundation for a certain practice, and however trivial it may be, the unreflecting mind has a tendency to disapprove of any deviation from it for the simple reason that such a deviation is unusual. As Abraham Tucker observes, "it is a constant argument among the common people, that a thing must be done, and ought to be done, because it always has been done."[1] Children show respect for the customary,[2] and so do savages. "If you ask a Kaffir why he does so and so, he will answer--'How can I tell? It has always been done by our forefathers.'"[3] The only reason which the Eskimo can give for some of their present customs, to which they adhere from fear of ill report among their people, is that "the old Innuits did so, and therefore they must."[4] In the behaviour of the Aleut, who "is bashful if caught doing anything unusual among his people,"[5] and in the average European's dread of appearing singular, we recognise the influence of the same force of habit.

[Footnote 1: Tucker, Light of Nature, ii. 593. Cf. also Simmel, Einleitung in die Moralwissenschaft, i. 65 sqq.]

[Footnote 2: Sully, Studies of Childhood, p. 280 sq.]

[Footnote 3: Leslie, Among the Zulus and Amatongas, p. 146.]

[Footnote 4: Hall, Arctic Researches, p. 569.]

[Footnote 5: Dall, Alaska, p. 396.]

On the other hand, it should be remembered that not every public habit is a custom, involving an obligation; certain practices, though very general in a society, may even be reprobated by almost every one of its members. The habits of a people must therefore be handled with discretion by the student of moral ideas. Yet when he has no reason to conclude as to some special habit that it is held obligatory, he may, probably always, be sure that it is either allowed, or, in spite of all assurances of its wickedness, that the disapproval of it is not generally very deep or genuine. In a community where lying is a {160} prevailing vice, truthfulness cannot be regarded as a very sacred duty; and where sexual immorality is widely spread, the public condemnation of it always smacks of hypocrisy. Men's standard of morality is not independent of their practice. The conscience of a community follows the same rule as the conscience of an individual. "Commit a sin twice," says the Talmud, "and you will think it perfectly allowable."[6] Hence for the study of the inmost convictions of a nation, its "bad habits" form a valuable complement to its professed opinions.

[Footnote 6: Deutsch, Literary Remains, p. 58.]

The dictates of custom being dictates of morality, it is obvious that the study of moral ideas will, to a large extent, be a study of customs. But at the same time it should be borne in mind that custom never covers the whole field of morality, and that the uncovered space grows larger in proportion as the moral consciousness develops. Being a rule of duty, custom may only indirectly be an expression of moral approval, by claiming, in certain cases, that goodness should be rewarded. But even when demanding praise, custom is not always a reliable exponent of merit; it includes politeness, and politeness is a great deceiver. Custom may compel us to praise a man for form's sake, when he deserves no praise, and to thank him when he deserves no thanks. Moreover, custom regulates external conduct only. It tolerates all kinds of volitions and opinions if not openly expressed. It does not condemn the heretical mind, but the heretical act. It demands that under certain circumstances certain actions shall be either performed or omitted, and, provided that this demand is fulfilled, it takes no notice of the motive of the agent or omitter. Again, in case the course of conduct prescribed by custom is not observed, the mental facts connected with the transgression, if regarded at all, are dealt with in a rough and ready manner, according to general rules which hardly admit of individualisation. Yet the incongruity between custom and morality which ensues from these circumstances is on {161} the whole more apparent than real. It is rather an incongruity between different moral standards. The unreflecting moral consciousness, like custom, cares comparatively little for the internal aspect of conduct. It does not ask whether a man goes to church on Sunday from a religious motive or from fear of public opinion; it does not ask whether he stays at home from love of ease or from dissent of belief and avoidance of hypocrisy. It is ready to blame as soon as the dictate of custom is disobeyed. The rule of custom is the rule of duty at early stages of development. Only progress in culture lessens its sway.

Finally, the moral ideas which are expressed in the customs of a certain circle of men are not necessarily shared by every one of its members. This may, in the present connection, be considered a matter of slight importance by him who regards morality as "objectively" realised in the customs of a people, and who denies the individual the right to a private conscience. But from the subjective point of view which I am vindicating, individual conviction has a claim to equal consideration with public opinion, nay frequently, to higher respect, representing as it does in many cases a higher morality, a moral standard more purified by reflection and impartiality. At the lower stages of civilisation, however, where a man is led by his feelings more than by his thoughts, such a differentiation of moral ideas hardly occurs. The opinions of the many are the opinions of all, and the customs of a society are recognised as rules of duty by all its members.

In primitive society custom stands for law, and even where social organisation has made some progress it may still remain the sole rule for conduct.[7] The authority of {162} a chief does not necessarily involve a power to make laws. Even kings who are described as autocrats may be as much tied by custom as is any of their subjects.

[Footnote 7: Cranz, History of Greenland, i. 170. Dall, op. cit. p. 381 (Tuski). Dobrizhoffer, Account of the Abipones, p. 95. Shooter, Kafirs of Natal and the Zulu Country, p. 101 sq. Holden, Past and Future of the Kaffir Races, p. 336. Mungo Park, Travels in the Interior of Africa, p. 16. Scaramucci and Giglioli, 'Notizie sui Danakil,' in Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia, xiv. 39. Earl, Papuans, p. 105 (Arru Islanders). Forbes, A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago, p. 473 (Timorese). Dalton, Ethnology of Bengal, p. 51 (Manipuris). Rockhill, Land of the Lamas, p. 220 (Eastern Tibetans).]

The Rejangs of Sumatra "do not acknowledge a right in the chiefs to constitute what laws they think proper, or to repeal or alter their ancient usages, of which they are extremely tenacious and jealous." There is no word in their language which signifies law, and the chiefs, in pronouncing their decisions are not heard to say, "So the law directs," but, "Such is the custom."[8] According to Ellis, "the veneration of the Malagasy for the customs derived from tradition, or any accounts of their ancestors . . . influences both their public and private habits; and upon no individual is it more imperative than upon their monarch, who, absolute as he is in other respects, wants either the will or the power to break through the long-established regulations of a superstitious people."[9] The king of Ashanti, although represented as a despotic monarch, is nevertheless under an obligation to observe the national customs which have been handed down to the people from remote antiquity, and a practical disregard of this obligation, in the attempt to change some of the old customs, cost one of the kings his throne.[10] "The Africans," says Mr. Winwood Reade, with special reference to Dahomey, "have sometimes their enlightened kings, as the old barbarians had their sages and their priests. But it is seldom in the power of the heads of a people to alter those customs which have been held sacred from time immemorial."[11] The Basutos, among whom "the chiefs have the right of making laws and publishing regulations required by the necessities of the times," regard such laws, or molaos, as inferior to the mekhoas, "the use and wont," which constitute the real laws of the country.[12] Among the ancient Irish, there was no sovereign authority competent to enact a new law, the function of the king being merely, as chief of the tribal assembly, to see that the proper customs were observed.[13]

[Footnote 8: Marsden, History of Sumatra, p. 217.]

[Footnote 9: Ellis, History of Madagascar, i. 359.]

[Footnote 10: Beecham, Ashantee and the Gold Coast, p. 90 sq. Cf. Stuhlmann, Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Afrika, p. 523 (A-l[=u]r).]

[Footnote 11: Reade, Savage Africa, p. 52 sq.]

[Footnote 12: Casalis, Basutos, p. 228.]

[Footnote 13: Ancient Laws of Ireland, iii. p. lxxxvi. sq. Cherry, Growth of Criminal Law, p. 33.]

{163} In competition with law, custom frequently carries the day. In India, especially in the South, "custom has always been to a great extent superior to the written law."[14] In the Ramnad case, the Judicial Committee expressly declared that, "under the Hindu system of law, clear proof of usage will outweigh the written text of the law."[15] It was also a maxim of the Roman jurists that laws may be abrogated by desuetude or contrary usage;[16] and in modern times the same doctrine is acted upon in Scotland.[17] Moreover, when a custom cannot abrogate the law, it may still have a paralysing influence on its execution. According to the laws of European nations, a man who has killed another in a duel is to be treated as a homicide; yet wherever the duel exists as a custom, the law against it is ineffective. So it is on the Continent, and so it was in England in the eighteenth century, when a well-informed writer could affirm that he had "not found any case of an actual execution in England in consequence of a duel fairly fought."[18] In this instance the ineffectiveness of the law is owing to the fact that the law has not been able to abolish an old custom. But the superiority of custom also shows itself in cases where the law itself is getting antiquated, and a new custom, enforced by public opinion, springs up in opposition to it. Thus, contrary to law and earlier usage, it is nowadays the custom of certain European countries that a sentence of death is not carried into execution. Even "bad habits" tend to weaken the authority of the law. Probably the two most prominent civil vices of the Chinese are bribery and gambling. Against both these vices their penal code speaks with no uncertain sound; and yet, according to {164} Professor Douglas, it is no exaggeration to say that if the law were enforced, it would make a clean sweep of ninety-nine of every hundred officials in the empire.[19] Other illustrations of the same principle may be found much nearer home.

[Footnote 14: Burnell, quoted by Nelson, View of the Hind[=u] Law, p. 136.]

[Footnote 15: Mayne, Treatise on Hindu Law and Usage, p. 41.]

[Footnote 16: Institutiones, i. 2. 11. Digesta, i. 3. 32.]

[Footnote 17: Mackenzie, Studies in Roman Law, p. 54.]

[Footnote 18: Quoted by Bosquett, Treatise on Duelling, p. 80. Cf. A Short Treatise upon the Propriety and Necessity of Duelling, printed at Bath in 1779. In 1808, however, Major Campbell was sentenced to death and executed for killing Captain Boyd in a duel (Storr, 'Duel,' in Encyclopædia Britannica, vii. 514).]

[Footnote 19: Douglas, Society in China, p. 82.]

Custom has proved stronger than law and religion combined. Sir Richard Burton writes of the Bedouins, "Though the revealed law of the Koran, being insufficient for the Desert, is openly disregarded, the immemorial customs of the Kazi al-Arab (the Judge of the Arabs) form a system stringent in the extreme."[20] So, also, the Turkomans are ruled, often tyrannised over, by a mighty sovereign, invisible indeed to themselves, but whose presence is plainly discerned in the word deb--"custom," "usage." Our authority adds:--"It is very remarkable how little the 'Deb' has suffered in its struggle of eight centuries with Mahommedanism. Many usages, which are prohibited to the Islamite, and which the Mollahs make the object of violent attack, exist in all their ancient originality."[21]

[Footnote 20: Burton, Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah, ii. 87.]

[Footnote 21: Vámbéry, Travels in Central Asia, p. 310 sqq.]

The laws themselves, in fact, command obedience more as customs than as laws. A rule of conduct which, from one point of view, is a law, is in most cases, from another point of view, a custom; for, as Hegel remarks, "the valid laws of a nation, when written and collected, do not cease to be customs."[22] There are instances of laws that were never published, the knowledge and administration of which belonged to a privileged class, and which nevertheless were respected and obeyed.[23] And among ourselves the ordinary citizen stands in no need of studying the laws under which he lives, custom being generally the safe guiding star of his conduct. Custom, as Bacon said, is "the principal magistrate of man's life,"[24] or, as the ancients put it, "the king of all men."[25]

[Footnote 22: Hegel, Philosophie des Rechts, § 211, p. 199.]

[Footnote 23: Rein, Japan, p. 314.]

[Footnote 24: Bacon, 'Essay xxxix. Of Custom and Education,' in Essays, p. 372.]

[Footnote 25: Herodotus, iii. 38.]

{165} Many laws were customs before they became laws. Ancient customs lie at the foundation of all Aryan law-books. Mr. Mayne is of opinion that Hindu law is based upon customs which existed even prior to and independent of Brahmanism.[26] The Greek word [Greek: no/mos] means both custom and law, and this combination of meanings was not owing to poverty of language, but to the deep-rooted idea of the Greek people that law is, and ought to be, nothing more and nothing less than the outcome of national custom.[27] A great part of the Roman law was founded on the mores majorum; in the Institutes of Justinian, it is expressly said that "long prevailing customs, being sanctioned by the consent of those who use them, assume the nature of Laws."[28] The case was similar with the ancient laws of the Teutons and Irish.[29]

[Footnote 26: Mayne, op. cit. p. 4.]

[Footnote 27: Ziegler, Social Ethics, p. 30. Schmidt, Ethik der alten Griechen, i. 201.]

[Footnote 28: Institutiones, i. 2. 9.]

[Footnote 29: Joyce, Social History of Ancient Ireland, i. 181.]

The transformation of customs into laws was not a mere ceremony. Law, like custom, is a rule of conduct, but, while custom is established by usage and obtains, in a more or less indefinite way, its binding force from public opinion, a law originates in a definite legislative act, being set, as Austin says, by a sovereign person, or a sovereign body of persons, to a person or persons in a state of subjection to its author.[30] By becoming laws, then, the customs were expressly formulated, and were enforced by a more definite sanction. It seems that the process in question arose both from considerations of social utility and from a sense of justice. Cicero observes that it was for the sake of equity that "laws were invented, which perpetually spoke to all men with one and the same voice."[31] From these points of view it was neither necessary nor desirable that more than a limited set of customs should pass into laws. There are customs which are too indefinite to assume the stereotyped shape of law.[32] There are others, the breach {166} of which excites too little public indignation, or which are of too little importance for the public welfare, to be proper objects of legislation. And there are others which may be said to exist unconsciously, that is, which are universally observed as a matter of course, and which, never being transgressed, are never thought of.

[Footnote 30: Austin, Lectures on Jurisprudence, i. 87, 181, &c.]

[Footnote 31: Cicero, De officiis, ii. 12.]

[Footnote 32: Cf. Aristotle, Ethica Nicomachea, v. 10. 6.]

Laws which are based on customs naturally express moral ideas prevalent at the time when they are established. On the other hand, though still in existence, they are not necessarily faithful representatives of the ideas of a later age. Law may be even more conservative than custom. Though the latter exercises a very preservative influence on public opinion, it eo ipso changes when public opinion changes. Even among savages, in spite of their extreme regard for the customs of their ancestors, it is quite possible for changes to be introduced; the traditions of the Central Australian Arunta, for instance, indicate their own recognition of the fact that customs have varied from time to time.[33] But the legal form gives to an ancient custom such a fixity as to enable it to survive, as a law, the change of public opinion and the introduction of a new custom. In all progressive societies, as Sir Henry Maine observes, social necessities and social opinion are always more or less in advance of law. "We may come indefinitely near to the closing of the gap between them, but it has a perpetual tendency to re-open."[34]

[Footnote 33: Spencer and Gillen, Native Tribes of Central Australia, p. 12 sqq.]

[Footnote 34: Maine, Ancient Law, p. 24.]

The moral ideas of a people are less extensively represented in its laws than in its customs. This is a corollary of the fact that there are always a great number of customs which never become laws. Moreover, whilst law, like custom, directly expresses only what is obligatory, it hardly ever deals with merit, even indirectly. The Chinese have a method of rewarding and commemorating meritorious and virtuous subjects by erecting gates in their honour, and conferring upon them marks of public distinction;[35] {167} and the Japanese and Coreans award prizes in the form of money or silver cups or monumental columns to signal exemplars of filial piety, arguing that, if the law punishes crime, it ought also to reward virtue.[36] In Europe we have titles and honours, pensions for distinguished service, and the like; but the distribution of them is not regulated by law, and has often little to do with morality.

[Footnote 35: de Groot, Religious System of China (vol. ii. book) i. 769, 789 sq.]

[Footnote 36: Griffis, Corea, p. 236.]

Law, like custom, only deals with overt acts, or omissions, and cares nothing for the mental side of conduct, unless the law be transgressed. Yet, as will be seen subsequently, though this constitutes an essential difference between law and the enlightened moral consciousness, it throws considerable light on the moral judgments of the unreflecting mind.

Being a general, and at the same time a strictly defined, rule of conduct, a law can even less than a custom make special provision for every case so as to satisfy the demand of justice. This disadvantage, however, was hardly felt in early periods of legislation, when little account was taken of what was behind the overt act; and at later stages of development, the difficulty was overcome by leaving greater discretion to the judge. The history of legal punishments in England, for instance, shows a change from a system which, except in cases of misdemeanour, left no discretion at all to judges, to a system under which unlimited discretion is left to them in all cases except those which are still liable to capital punishment--practically, high treason and murder.[37] The study of law, then, must for our purpose be supplemented by the study of judicial practice.

[Footnote 37: Stephen, History of the Criminal Law of England, ii. 87.]

Laws which represent public opinion are no more than customs safe exponents of the moral ideas held by particular members of the society. But on the other hand, there are cases in which a law, unlike a custom, may express the ideas, or simply the will, of a few, or even of {168} a single individual, that is, of the sovereign power only. It is obvious that laws imposed upon a barbarous people by civilised legislators may differ widely from the people's own ideas of right and wrong. For instance, when studying the moral sentiments of the Teutonic peoples from their early law-books, we must carefully set aside all elements of Roman or Christian origin. At the same time, however, it should be remembered that the moral consciousness of a people may gradually be brought into harmony with a law originally foreign to it. If the law is in advance of public opinion--as Roman law undoubtedly was in Teutonic countries--it may raise the views of the people up to its own standard by awaking in them dormant sentiments, or by teaching them greater discrimination in their judgments. And, as has been already noticed, what is forbidden and punished may, for the very reason that it is so, come to be regarded as wrong and worthy of punishment.

Finally, a law may enjoin or forbid acts which by themselves are regarded as indifferent from a moral point of view. This is, for instance, the case with the laws which require marriages to be celebrated at certain times and places only, and which forbid the cultivation of tobacco in England. Jurists divide crimes into mala in se and mala quia prohibita. The former would be wrong even if they were not prohibited by law, the latter are wrong only because they are illegal.

A law expresses a rule of duty by making an act or omission which is regarded as wrong a crime, that is, by forbidding it under pain of punishment. Law does not in all cases directly threaten[38] with punishment--I say directly, since all law is coercive, and all coercion at some stage involves the possibility of punishment.[39] Sanctions, or the consequences by which the sovereign political authority threatens to enforce the laws set by it, may {169} have in view either the indemnification of the injured party, or the suffering of the injurer. In the latter case the sanctions are called punishments. But, though highly important, the distinction between indemnification and punishment is not absolute. A person who causes harm to another would hardly have to pay damages unless some kind of guilt or quasi-guilt were imputed to him; and, on the other hand, punishment may actually consist in the damages he has to pay. Moreover, the suffering involved in punishment must be regarded as a kind of indemnification in so far as it is intended to gratify the injured party's craving for revenge. The pleasure of vengeance, says Bentham, "is a gain; it calls to mind Samson's riddle--it is sweet coming out of the terrible, it is honey dropping from the lion's mouth."[40] In cases where the injured party is allowed to decide whether the injurer shall be punished or not, or what punishment (within certain limits) shall be inflicted upon him, it is obvious that punishment is largely looked upon as a means of indemnification. However, the fact that such a privilege is granted to the injured party indicates the existence of some degree of sympathetic resentment in the public. Punishment, in all its forms, is essentially an expression of indignation in the society which inflicts it.[41] Hence it is of extreme importance for the study of moral ideas, and calls for our careful consideration.

[Footnote 38: "Not every sovereign can make sure of enforcing his commands; and sometimes laws are made without even any great intention of enforcing them" (Pollock, Essays in Jurisprudence and Ethics, p. 9 sq.).]

[Footnote 39: Cf. Stephen, op. cit. i. 2.]

[Footnote 40: Bentham, Theory of Legislation, p. 309.]

[Footnote 41: "Die Missbilligung ist das Wesentliche aller Strafe" (von Bar, Die Grundlagen des Strafrechts, p. 4). "La peine consiste dans une réaction passionnelle d'intensité graduée" (Durkheim, Division du travail social, p. 96).]

By punishment I do not understand here every suffering inflicted upon an offender in consequence of his offence, but only such suffering as is inflicted upon him in a definite way by, or in the name of, the society of which he is a permanent or temporary member. This definition holds good whatever may be the opinion about the final object of punishment. Whether its purpose is, or is supposed to be, either reformation, or determent, or retribution, its immediate aim is always to cause suffering. {170} We should not call it punishment if the reformation of the criminal were attempted, say, by means of hypnotism.

It is a common opinion that punishment, in this sense of the word, is a social institution of comparatively modern origin, which has sprung from, and gradually superseded, the earlier custom of individual or family revenge. This opinion may seem plausible to the student of European and Eastern law, but, as we shall see, the early history of civilised races is apt to give a somewhat erroneous idea of the evolution of punishment. Even among savages public indignation frequently assumes that definite shape which constitutes the difference between punishment and mere condemnation.[42]

[Footnote 42: See Steinmetz, Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe, ii. 327 sqq.; Makarewicz, Évolution de la peine, passim.]

Savage punishment sometimes simply consists in publicly putting the offender to shame.

In Greenland the courts of justice were the public assemblies, which at the same time supplied the national sports and entertainments. Here "nith-songs" were used for settling all sorts of crimes or breaches of public order or custom, with the exception of those which could only be expiated by death; by means of cutting capers and singing, the offender was told of his faults, and the opposite virtues were praised to all who were present.[43] The same institution is found, with only incidental differences, among several other tribes within and beyond the Arctic circle.[44] And, knowing the sensitiveness of these peoples, we may assume that the punishment in question is by no means lenient. In Greenland "it now and then happens that some one or other, wounded, perhaps, by a single word from one of his kinsfolk, runs away to the mountains, and is lost for several days at least."[45] And Adair, speaking of the public jesting by which North American Indians used to punish young people who were guilty of petty crimes, says that "they would sooner die by torture, than renew their shame by repeating the actions."[46]

[Footnote 43: Rink, Eskimo Tribes, p. 24 sq. Idem, Greenland, pp. 141, 150. Cranz, op. cit. i. 165 sq. Holm, 'Ethnologisk Skizze af Angmagsalikerne,' in Meddelelser om Grönland, p. 87.]

[Footnote 44: Kane, Arctic Explorations, ii. 128 sq.]

[Footnote 45: Nansen, Eskimo Life, p. 267 sq.]

[Footnote 46: Adair, History of the American Indians, p. 429 sq.]

{171} In other instances the community as a whole expresses its indignation by inflicting suffering of a more material kind upon the culprit.

In certain Australian tribes, when a native for any transgression incurs the displeasure of his tribe, custom compels him to "stand punishment," as it is called; that is, he stands with a shield at a fair distance, while the whole tribe, either simultaneously or in rapid succession, cast their spears at him. Their expertness generally enables those who are exposed to this trial to escape without serious injury, though instances of a fatal result occasionally occur; however, there is a certain propriety even in this extraordinary punishment, as the accuracy and force with which the weapons are thrown will depend very much on the opinion entertained of the enormity of the offence.[47] Among the North-West-Central Queensland aborigines, though each individual, within certain limits, can do what he pleases, "he has to reckon not only with the particular person injured, or his relatives, but also, in some cases, with the whole camp collectively. Thus the camp as a body, as a camp council, will take upon itself to mete out punishment in crimes of murder, incest, or the promiscuous use of fighting-implements within the precincts of the camping-ground: death, and probably the digging of his own grave, awaits the delinquent in the former case, while 'crippling,' generally with knives, constitutes the penalty for a violation of the latter." Again, if a woman makes herself obnoxious in the camp, especially to the female portion of it, she is liable to be set upon and "hammered" by her fellow-sisters collectively, the men on such occasions not interfering.[48] Among the Bangerang tribe of Victoria, "any one who had suffered a wrong complained of it, if at all, at night aloud to the camp, which was silent and attentive. Then the accused was heard. Afterwards those who chose, men or women, expressed their views on the subject; and if general opinion pronounced the grievance a good one, the accused accepted the penalty sanctioned by custom."[49] Among various tribes in Western Victoria, "should a person, through bad conduct, become a constant anxiety and trouble {172} to the tribe, a consultation is held, and he is put to death."[50] Among the Mpongwe, if a man murders another, he is put to death, not by the nearest of kin, but by the whole community, being either drowned or burned alive.[51] Among the Hudson Bay Eskimo, "when a person becomes so bad in character that the community will no longer tolerate his presence he is forbidden to enter the huts, partake of food, or hold any intercourse with the rest. Nevertheless, as long as he threatens no one's life, but little attention is paid to him. Should he be guilty of a murder, several men watch their opportunity to surprise him and put him to death, usually by stoning. The executioners make no concealment of their action and are supported by public opinion in the community."[52]

[Footnote 47: Hale, U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology, p. 114. Cf. Eyre, Journals of Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia, ii. 388; Collins, English Colony in New South Wales, i. 586; Brough Smyth, Aborigines of Victoria, ii. 295.]

[Footnote 48: Roth, Ethnological Studies among the North-West-Central Queensland Aborigines, pp. 139, 141. Curr, The Australian Race, i. 61 sq.]

[Footnote 49: Curr, Squatting in Victoria, p. 245.]

[Footnote 50: Dawson, Australian Aborigines, p. 76.]

[Footnote 51: Burton, Two Trips to Gorilla Land, i. 105.]

[Footnote 52: Turner, 'Ethnology of the Ungava District,' in Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. xi. 186.]

Among various savage peoples expulsion from the tribe is the punishment of persons whose conduct excites great public indignation, and among others such persons are outlawed.

The Chippewyans, among whom "order is maintained in the tribe solely by public opinion," the chief having no power to punish crimes, occasionally expel from the society individuals whose conduct is exceptionally bad and threatens the general peace.[53] The Salish, or flathead Indians, sometimes punished notorious criminals by expulsion from the tribe or band to which they belonged.[54] Sir E. F. Im Thurn, whilst praising the Indians of Guiana for their admirable morality as long as they remain in a state of nature, adds that there are exceptions to the rule, and that such individuals "are soon killed or driven out from their tribe."[55] Among the Bedouins of the Euphrates, "in extreme cases, and as the utmost penalty of the law, the offender is turned out of the tribe";[56] and the same is the case among the Beni Mzab.[57] In the Scotch Highlands, even to this day, instances are common of public opinion operating as a punishment, to the extent of forcing individuals into exile.[58] There are cases reported from various parts of the savage world of banishment being inflicted as a punishment for sexual {173} offences;[59] and other instances of expulsion are mentioned by Dr. Steinmetz.[60] In some cases, however, expulsion is to be regarded rather as a means of ridding the community from a pollution, than as a punishment in the proper sense of the term.[61]

[Footnote 53: Richardson, Arctic Searching Expedition, ii. 26 sq.]

[Footnote 54: Hale, op. cit. p. 208.]

[Footnote 55: Im Thurn, Among the Indians of Guiana, p. 213.]

[Footnote 56: Blunt, Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates, ii. 206.]

[Footnote 57: Chavanne, Sahara, p. 315. Tristram, Great Sahara, p. 207.]

[Footnote 58: Stewart, Highlanders of Scotland, p. 380.]

[Footnote 59: Westermarck, History of Human Marriage, p. 61 sqq.]

[Footnote 60: Steinmetz, op. cit. ii. ch. 5.]

[Footnote 61: See infra, on Homicide.]

Nearly related to the punishment of expulsion is that of outlawry. Von Wrede states that the Bedouins of [H.]adhramaut give a respite of three days to the banished man, and that after the lapse of this period every member of the tribe is allowed to kill him.[62] Among the Wyandots the lowest grade of outlawry consists in a declaration that, if the offender shall continue in the commission of crimes similar to that of which he has been guilty, it will be lawful for any person to kill him, whilst outlawry of the highest degree makes it the duty of any member of the tribe who may meet with the offender to kill him.[63] Among the ancient Teutons, also, outlawry was originally a declaration of war by the commonwealth against an offending member, and became only later on a regular means of compelling submission to the authority of the courts.[64]

[Footnote 62: von Wrede, Reise in [H.]adhramaut, p. 51.]

[Footnote 63: Powell, 'Wyandot Government,' in Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. i. 68.]

[Footnote 64: Pollock and Maitland, History of English Law before the time of Edward I. i. 49.]

Most generally, however, punishment is inflicted upon the culprit, not by the whole of the community, but by some person or persons invested with judicial authority. Indeed, it is not only civilised races who have judges and courts of justice. Among savages and barbarians justice is very frequently administered by a council of elders or by a chief.[65] Even people of so low a type as the Australian aborigines have their tribunals.

[Footnote 65: Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in Tenth Census of the United States, p. 152 (Aleuts). Morgan, League of the Iroquois, p. 330. Powell, in Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. i. 63, 66 sq. (Wyandots). Idem, 'Sociology,' in American Anthropologist, N.S. i. 706 (North American tribes). Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes of the United States, i. 277 (Creeks). von Martius, Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's, i. 88 (Brazilian Indians). Cook, Journal of a Voyage round the World, p. 41 (Tahitians). Lister, in Jour. Anthr. Inst. xxi. 54 (Bowditch Islanders). Codrington, Melanesians, p. 345 (Solomon Islanders). Hunt, in Jour. Anthr. Inst. xxviii. 6 (Murray Islanders). Kohler, in Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss. xiv. 448; Senfft, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 448; Kubary, 'Die Ebongruppe im Marshall's Archipel,' in Journal des Museum Godeffroy, i. 37 (Marshall Islanders). Idem, Ethnographische Beiträge zur Kenntniss der Karolinischen Inselgruppe, p. 73 sqq.; Idem, 'Die Palau-Inseln,' in Journal des Museum Godeffroy, iv. 42 (Pelew Islanders). von Kotzebue, Voyage of Discovery, iii. 208 (Caroline Islanders). Worcester, Philippine Islands, p. 107 (Tagbanuas of Palawan). Marsden, History of Sumatra, p. 217 (Rejangs). von Brenner, Besuch bei den Kannibalen Sumatras, p. 211 (Bataks). Forbes, A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago, p. 243 (Kubus of Sumatra). Man, Sonthalia, p. 88 sq. Cooper, Mishmee Hills, p. 238. Macpherson, Memorials of Service in India, p. 83 (Kandhs). Stewart, in Jour. As. Soc. Bengal, xxiv. 609, 620 (Nagas, Old Kukis). Dalton, Ethnology of Bengal, p. 45 (Kukis). Forsyth, Highlands of Central India, p. 361 (Bygás). Shortt, in Trans. Ethn. Soc. N.S. vii. 241 (Todas). Batchelor, Ainu and their Folk-Lore, p. 278; von Siebold, Die Aino auf der Insel Yesso, p. 34. From Africa a great number of instances might be quoted, e.g.:--Nachtigal, Sahara und Sudan, i. 449 (Tedâ). Petherick, Egypt, the Soudan, and Central Africa, p. 320 (Nouaer tribes). Beltrame, Il Fiume Bianco, p. 77 (Shilluk). Laing, Travels in the Timannee, &c. Countries, p. 365 (Soolimas). Mungo Park, Travels in the Interior of Africa, p. 15 sq. (Mandingoes). Leuschner, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 22 (Bakwiri). Ibid. p. 47 (Banaka and Bapuku). Tellier, ibid. p. 175 (Kreis Kita, in the French Soudan). Bosman, New Description of the Coast of Guinea, p. 331 (Negroes of Fida). Casati, Ten Years in Equatoria, p. 158, 163 (Akkas, Mambettu). Stuhlmann, Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Africa, p. 523 (A-l[=u]r). Emin Pasha in Central Africa, p. 89 (Wanyoro). Baskerville, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 193 (Waganda). Beverley, ibid. p. 214 (Wagogo). Lang, ibid. p. 253 sqq. (Washambala). Desoignies, ibid. p. 279 sq. (Msalala). Decle, Three Years in Savage Africa, pp. 71, 73, 74, 487 (Barotse, Wakamba). Junod, Les Ba-Ronga, p. 155 sq. Burton, Zanzibar, ii. 94 (Wanika). Holub, Seven Years in South Africa, ii. 319 (Marutse). Kohler, in Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss. xiv. 316 (Herero). Andersson, Lake Ngami, p. 197 (Ovambo). Rautanen, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 340 (Ondonga). Kolben, Present State of the Cape of Good Hope, p. 86, 297 (Hottentots). Kohler, in Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss. xv. 333 (Bechuanas). Casalis, Basutos, pp. 224, 226. Maclean, Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs, pp. 35, 110. Holden, Past and Future of the Kaffir Races, pp. 333, 336. Shooter, Kafirs of Natal, p. 99 sq.]

{174} Speaking of the native tribes of Central Australia, Messrs. Spencer and Gillen observe:--"Should any man break through the strict marriage laws, it is not only an 'impersonal power' which he has to deal with. The head men of the group or groups concerned consult together with the elder men, and, if the offender, after long consultation, be adjudged guilty and the determination be arrived at that he is to be put to death--a by no means purely hypothetical case--then the same elder men make arrangements to carry the sentence out, and a party, which is called an ininja, is organised for the purpose."[66] We hear of similar councils from various parts of the Australian continent. In his description of the aborigines of New South Wales, Dr. Fraser states, "The Australian council of old and experienced men--this aboriginal senate and witenagemot--has the power to decree punishment for tribal offences." The chiefs sit as magistrates to decide all cases which are brought before them, such as the divulging of sacred things, speaking to a mother-in-law, the adultery of a wife; and there is even a {175} tribal executioner. At the same time, many grievances are arranged without the intervention of the chiefs; for instance, if a man has been found stealing from his neighbour, or two men quarrel about a woman, a fight ensues, the one or the other gets his head broken, and there the matter ends.[67] The Narrinyeri have a judgment council of the elders of the clan, called tendi, which is presided over by the chief of the clan; and when any member of the tendi dies, the surviving members select a suitable man from the clan to succeed him. "All offenders are brought to this tribunal for trial. In cases of the slaying by a person or persons of one clan of the member of another clan in time of peace, the fellow-clansmen of the murdered man will send to the friends of the murderer and invite them to bring him to trial before the united tendies. If, after full inquiry, he is found to have committed the crime, he will be punished according to the degree of guilt."[68] Among another Australian tribe, the Gournditch-mara, again, the headman, whose office was hereditary, "settled all quarrels and disputes in the tribe. When he had heard both sides, and had given his decision in a matter, no one ever disputed it."[69]

[Footnote 66: Spencer and Gillen, op. cit. p. 15.]

[Footnote 67: Fraser, Aborigines of New South Wales, p. 39.]

[Footnote 68: Taplin, 'Narrinyeri,' in Woods, Native Tribes of South Australia, p. 34 sq.]

[Footnote 69: Fison and Howitt, Kamilaroi and Narrinyeri, p. 277.]

Among the Australian aborigines, then, we find cases in which punishment is inflicted by the whole community, and other cases in which it is inflicted by a tribunal or a chief. There can be little doubt that the latter system has developed out of the former; there are obvious instances of transition from the one to the other. Among the North-West-Central Queensland natives, for instance, in cases of major offences, such as murder, incest, or physical violence, the old men are only said to "influence" aboriginal public opinion.[70] It is an inconvenient, and in larger communities a difficult, procedure for the whole group to inflict punishments in common, hence the administration of justice naturally tends to pass into the hands of the leading men or the chief. But the establishment of a judicial authority within the society may also have a different origin. Very frequently judicial organisation {176} seems to have developed, not out of a previous system of lynch-law, but out of a previous system of private revenge.

[Footnote 70: Roth, op. cit. p. 141.]

An act of individual or family revenge is by itself, of course, an expression of private, not of public, feelings--of revenge, not of moral indignation. But the case is different with the custom of revenge. We shall see in a following chapter that blood-revenge is regarded not only as a right, but, very frequently, as a duty incumbent upon the relatives of the slain person. So, also, revenge may be deemed a duty in cases where there is no blood-guiltiness. Among the Australian Geawe-gal tribe, for instance, the offender, according to the magnitude of his offence, was to receive one or more spears from men who were relatives of the deceased person; or the injured man himself, when he had recovered strength, might discharge the spears at the offender. And our authority adds, "Obedience to such laws was never withheld, but would have been enforced, without doubt, if necessary, by the assembled tribe."[71] The obligatory character of revenge implies that its omission is disapproved of. It is of course the man on whom the duty of vengeance is incumbent that is the immediate object of blame, when this duty is omitted; and the blame may partly be due to contempt, especially when there is a suspicion of cowardice. But behind the public censure there is obviously a desire to see the injurer suffer. Instances may be quoted in which the society actually assists the avenger, in some way or other, in attaining his object. Speaking of the Fuegians, M. Hyades observes:--"Nous avons entendu parler d'individus coupables de meurtre sur leur femme, par exemple, et qui, poursuivis par tout un groupe de familles, finissaient, quelquefois un an ou deux après leur crime, par tomber sous les coups des parents de la victime. Il s'agit là plutôt d'un acte de justice que d'une satisfaction de vengeance. Nous devons faire remarquer en outre que, dans ces cas, le meurtrier est abandonné de tous, et qu'il ne peut se soustraire que pendant un temps {177} relativement assez court au châtiment qui le menace."[72] Amongst the Central Eskimo, who have "no punishment for transgressors except the blood vengeance," a man has committed a murder or made himself odious by other outrages, "he may be killed by any one simply as a matter of justice. The man who intends to take revenge on him must ask his countrymen singly if each agrees in the opinion that the offender is a bad man deserving death. If all answer in the affirmative he may kill the man thus condemned, and no one is allowed to revenge the murder."[73] Among the Greenlanders, in cases of extreme atrocity, the men of a village have been known to make common cause against a murderer, and kill him, though it otherwise is the business of the nearest relatives to take revenge.[74] It is also noteworthy that, among the crimes which in savage communities are punished by the community at large, incest is particularly prominent. The chief reason for this I take to be the absence of an individual naturally designated as the avenger.

[Footnote 71: Fison and Howitt, op. cit. p. 282.]

[Footnote 72: Hyades and Deniker, Mission scientifique du Cap Horn, vii. 240 sq.]

[Footnote 73: Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' in Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. vi. 582.]

[Footnote 74: Nansen, Eskimo Life, p. 163.]

Thus public indignation displays itself not only in punishment, but, to a certain extent, in the custom of revenge. In both cases the society desires that the offender shall suffer for his deed. Strictly speaking, the relationship between the custom of revenge and punishment is not, as has been often supposed, that between parent and child. It is a collateral relationship. They have a common ancestor, the feeling of public resentment.

But whilst public opinion demands that vengeance shall be exacted for injuries, it is also operative in another way. Though in some cases the resentment may seem to outsiders to be too weak or too much checked by other impulses, it may in other cases appear unduly great. As a matter of fact, we frequently find the practice of revenge being regulated by a rule which requires equivalence between the injury and the suffering inflicted in return for {178} it. Sometimes this rule demands that only one life shall be taken for one;[75] sometimes that a death shall be avenged on a person of the same rank, sex, or age as the deceased;[76] sometimes that a murderer shall die in the same manner as his victim;[77] sometimes that various kinds of injuries shall be retaliated by the infliction of similar injuries on the offender.[78] This strict equivalence is not characteristic of resentment as such.[79] There is undoubtedly a certain proportion between the pain-stimulus and the reaction; other things being equal, resentment increases in intensity along with the pain by which it is excited. The more a person feels offended, the greater is his desire to retaliate by inflicting counter-pain, and the greater is the pain which he desires to inflict. But resentment involves no accurate balancing of suffering against suffering, hence there may be a crying disproportion between the act of revenge and the injury evoking it.[80] As Sir Thomas Browne observes, a revengeful mind "holds no rule in retaliations, requiring too often a head for a tooth, and the supreme revenge for trespasses, which a night's rest should obliterate."[81] If, then, the rule of {179} equivalence is not suggested by resentment itself, this rule must be due to other factors, which intermingle with resentment, and help, with it, to determine the action. One of these factors, I believe, is self-regarding pride, the desire to pull down the humiliating arrogance of the aggressor naturally suggesting the idea of paying him back in his own coin; and it seems probable that the natural disposition to imitate, especially in cases of sudden anger, acts in the same direction. But besides this qualitative equivalence between injury and retaliation, the lex talionis requires, in a rough way, quantitative equivalence, and this demand has no doubt a social origin. If the offender is a person with whose feelings men are ready to sympathise, their sympathy will keep the desire to see him suffer within certain limits; and if, under ordinary circumstances, they tend to sympathise equally with both parties, the injurer and the person injured, and, in consequence, confer upon these equal rights, they will demand a retaliation which is only equal in degree to the offence. By suffering a loss the offender compensates, as it were, for the loss which he has inflicted; and when equal regard is paid to his feelings and to those of his victim, it is deemed just that the loss required of him as a compensation should be equivalent to the loss for which he compensates, anything beyond equivalence being regarded as undeserved suffering. If this explanation is correct, the rule of equivalence must originally have been restricted to offences within the social group; for, according to early custom and law, only members of the same society have equal rights. In speaking of the tit-for-tat system prevalent among the Guiana Indians, Sir E. F. Im Thurn expressly says, "Of course all this refers chiefly to the mutual relations of members of the same tribe."[82] And when we find savages acting according to the same principle in their relations to other tribes, the reason for this may be sought partly in the strong hold which that principle has taken of their minds, and partly in the dangers accompanying intertribal revenge, {180} which make it desirable to restrict it within reasonable limits.

[Footnote 75: Krause, Tlinkit-Indianer, p. 245 sq. Macfie, Vancouver Island and British Columbia, p. 470. Foreman, Philippine Islands, p. 213 (Negrito and Igorrote tribes in the province of La Isabela). Low, Sarawak, p. 212 (Dyaks). von Langsdorf, Voyages and Travels, i. 132 (Nukahivans).]

[Footnote 76: Jagor, Travels in the Philippines, p. 213 (Igorrotes). Blumentritt, quoted by Spencer, Principles of Ethics, i. 370 sq. (Quianganes of Luzon). Munzinger, Ostafrikanische Studien, p. 243 (Marea). Koran, ii. 173.]

[Footnote 77: von Martius, op. cit. i. 129 (Brazilian Indians). Wallace, Travels on the Amazon, p. 499 (Uaupés). Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes of the United States, iii. 246 (Dacotahs). Steller, Kamtschatka, p. 355; Hickson, A Naturalist in North Celebes, p. 198 (Sangirese of Manganitu). Fraser, Journal of a Tour through Part of the Him[=a]l[=a] Mountains, p. 339 (Butias). Ellis, History of Madagascar, i. 371. Munzinger, op. cit. p. 502 (Barea and Kunáma). de Abreu, Canary Islands, p. 27 (aborigines of Ferro).]

[Footnote 78: Im Thurn, op. cit. p. 213 sq. (Guiana Indians). Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago, p. 86 (Bataks). Arbousset and Daumas, Tour to the North-East of the Colony of Good Hope, p. 67 (Mantetis). Munzinger, op. cit. p. 502 (Barea and Kunáma). Post, Afrikanische Jurisprudenz, p. 27 (various other African peoples), de Abreu, op. cit. p. 71 (aborigines, of Gran Canaria).]

[Footnote 79: Cf. Tissot, Le droit pénal, i. 226; Steinmetz, Ethnol. Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe, i. 401; Makarewicz, op. cit. p. 13.]

[Footnote 80: von Martius, op. cit. i. 128 (Brazilian aborigines). Calder, in Jour. Anthr. Inst. iii. 21 (Tasmanians). Forbes, A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago, p. 473 (Timorese). Sarasin, Forschungen auf Ceylon, iii. 539 (Veddahs). Jacob, Das Leben der vorislâmischen Beduinen, p. 144 sq.]

[Footnote 81: Browne, Christian Morals, iii. 12, p. 94.]

[Footnote 82: Im Thurn, op. cit. p. 214.]

The regulations to which the practice of revenge is subject, help us to understand the transition from revenge to punishment, and the establishment of a special judicial authority. As long as retaliation is in the hands of private individuals, there is no guarantee, on the one hand, that the offender will have to suffer, on the other hand, that the act of retaliation will be sufficiently discriminate.

The injured party may be too weak, or otherwise unable, to avenge himself. His readiest course, then, is to appeal to the chief for help. The chief, on his part, has an interest in interfering--he may of course expect a handsome reward for his assistance,[83]--and, in so far as the community at large wishes that the offender shall suffer, the chief may even be bound to interfere. Thus in the Sandwich Islands, the family or the friends of an injured person--who in cases of assault or murder were by common consent justified in taking revenge--used to appeal to the chief of the district or to the king, when they were too weak to attack the offender themselves.[84] Among the Wanyoro, according to Emin Pasha, should the murderer escape, the nearest relatives of the murdered man apply to the chief of the tribe to procure the punishment of the culprit.[85] The Indians of Brazil, when offended, sometimes bring their cause before the chief; but they do it seldom, since they consider it disgraceful for a man not to be able to avenge himself.[86] The judicial authority granted to the Basuto chief "also insures justice to foreigners, and to individuals who, having no relations, are deprived of their natural defenders and avengers."[87] In ancient Greece, in early times, special care was taken by the State for the protection of the weak and helpless, who otherwise had been unavenged.[88] In the Middle Ages, the {181} poor and the weak were placed under the King's protection; the intervention of royal justice, as Du Boys observes, "apparaissait comme un bienfait pour les faibles et un secours pour les opprimés."[89]

[Footnote 83: Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 311. Cf. Brunner, Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte, i. 165.]

[Footnote 84: Ellis, Tour through Hawaii, p. 429.]

[Footnote 85: Emin Pasha in Central Africa, p. 86.]

[Footnote 86: von Martius, op. cit. i. 132.]

[Footnote 87: Casalis, op. cit. p. 226.]

[Footnote 88: Leist, Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte, p. 372.]

[Footnote 89: **Du Boys, Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne, p. 237.]

Whilst resentment on behalf of injuries inflicted upon persons who are unable to avenge themselves has thus, to some extent, contributed towards the establishment of a central judicial and executive authority, the sympathy naturally felt for the object of an improper and immoderate revenge undoubtedly tended to bring about a similar result. The same feeling which checked indiscriminate revenge by establishing the rule of strict equivalence, restricted it once more, and in a more effective way, by referring the case to a judge who was less partial, and more discriminate, than the sufferer himself or his friends. Speaking of the feuds of the Teutons, Kemble remarks, "Setting aside the loss to the whole community which may arise from private feud, the moral sense of men may be shocked by its results: an individual's own estimate of the satisfaction necessary to atone for the injury done to him, may lead to the commission of a wrong on his part, greater than any he hath suffered; nor can the strict rule of 'an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,' be applied where the exaction of the penalty depends upon the measure of force between appellant and defender."[90] In the Island of Bali the judge steps in between the prosecutor and the person whom he pursues, "so as to restrain the indiscriminate animosity of the one, and to determine the criminality of the other."[91] Crawfurd, in his account of native customs in the Malay Archipelago, says that "the law even expressly interdicts all interference when there appears a character of fairness in the quarrel."[92] A Karen, we are told, always thinks himself right in taking the law into his own hands, this being the custom of the country, and "he is never interfered with, unless he is guilty of some {182} act contrary to Karen ideas of propriety, when the elders and the villagers interfere and exercise a check upon him."[93] Among the Basutos the authority of the chief is stated to be "sufficiently respected to protect criminated persons, until their cases have been lawfully examined."[94] Among the Californian Gallinomero the avenger of blood has his option between money and the murderer's life; "but he does not seem to be allowed to wreak on him a personal and irresponsible vengeance," the chief taking the criminal and executing the punishment.[95]

[Footnote 90: Kemble, Saxons in England, i. 268 sq.]

[Footnote 91: Raffles, History of Java, ii. p. ccxxxvii.]

[Footnote 92: Crawfurd, History of the Indian Archipelago, iii. 120.]

[Footnote 93: Mason, in Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal, xxxvii. pt. li. 145. Cf. MacMahon, Far Cathay and Farther India, p. 188.]

[Footnote 94: Casalis, op. cit. p. 226.]

[Footnote 95: Powers, Tribes of California, p. 177.]

Besides the desire that the offender shall suffer and the desire that his suffering shall correspond to his guilt, there is a third factor of importance which has contributed to the substitution of punishment for revenge and to the rise of a judicial organisation. For every society it is a matter of great consequence that there should be peace between its various members. Though the system of revenge helps to keep down crime,[96] it also has a tendency to cause disturbance and destruction. Any act of vengeance which goes beyond the limits fixed by custom is apt to call forth retaliation in return. Among the Ossetes, says Baron von Haxthausen, "if the retaliation does not exceed the original injury the affair terminates; but if the wound given is greater than the one received, the feud begins afresh from the other side."[97] The custom of blood-revenge certainly does not imply that the avenger of unjustifiable homicide may himself be a proper object of retaliation;[98] but in the absence of a tribunal it may be {183} no easy thing to decide the question of guilt, and, besides, the dictate of custom may be overruled by passion. As a matter of fact, the blood-feud often consists of a whole series of murders, the revenge itself calling forth a new act of redress, and so on, until the state or hostility may become more or less permanent.[99] In the long run this will prove injurious both to the families implicated in the feud and to society as a whole, and some method of putting a stop to the feud will readily be adopted. One such method is to substitute the payment of blood-money for revenge; another is to submit the cause to an authority invested with judicatory power. Casalis tells us that the Basutos are often heard to say, "If we were to revenge ourselves, the town or community would soon be dispersed"; and he adds that the instinctive fear of the disorders that might arise from the exercise of individual law has induced them to allow the chief of the tribe a certain right over the person of every member of the community.[100]

[Footnote 96: Taylor, Te Ika a Maui, p. 96 (Maori). Im Thurn, op. cit. pp. 213, 330 (Guiana Indians). Burckhardt, Bedouins and Wahábys, p. 84, sq.; Blunt, Bedouins of the Euphrates, ii. 207; Layard, Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon, p. 305 sq. (Bedouins). Kohl, Reise nach Istrien, i. 409 sq. (Montenegrines). Stephen, History of the Criminal Law of England, i. 60 (Anglo-Saxons). Nordström, Svenska samhälls-författningens historia, ii. 228 (ancient Scandinavians). Steinmetz, Ethnol. Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe, ii. 125 sqq.]

[Footnote 97: von Haxthausen, Transcaucasia, p. 411.]

[Footnote 98: Among the aborigines of Western Victoria, when life has been taken for life, the feud is ended (Dawson, op. cit. p. 70). Among the Greenlanders, if the victim of revenge "be a notorious offender, or hated for his bloody deeds, or if he have no relations, the matter rests"; but more frequently the act of vengeance costs the avenger himself his life (Cranz, op. cit. i. 178). Among the Bedouins, "if the family of the man killed should in revenge kill two of the homicide's family, the latter retaliate by the death of one. If one only be killed, the affair rests there and all is quiet; but the quarrel is soon revived by hatred and revenge" (Burckhardt, Bedouins and Wahábys, p. 86). In his book, Das Leben der vorislâmischen Beduinen, Dr. Jacob likewise observes (p. 144):--"Irrtümlich ist die Ansicht, dass Blut immer neues Blut fordere. Was für einen Getödteten ein Anderer erschlagen, so galt die Sache in der Regel damit für erledigt und abgetan." Cf. Achelis, Moderne Völkerkunde, p. 407, n. 1.]

[Footnote 99: Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. xviii. 293. Miklosich. 'Blutrache bei den Slaven,' in Denkschriften d. kaiserl. Akademie d. Wissensch. Phil.-hist. Classe, Vienna, xxxvi. 132; &c.]

[Footnote 100: Casalis, op. cit. p. 225. Cf. Boyle, Adventures among the Dyaks of Borneo, p. 217; Marsden, op. cit. p. 249 sq. (Rejangs).]

As may be expected, it is only by slow degrees that revenge has yielded to punishment, and the private avenger has been succeeded by the judge and the public executioner of his sentence. Among many savages the chief is said to have nothing whatever to do with jurisdiction.[101] Among {184} others he acts merely as an adviser, or is appealed to as an arbiter;[102] or the injured party may choose between avenging himself and appealing to the chief for redress;[103] or the judicial power with which the chief is invested is stated to be more nominal than real.[104] It is also interesting to note that in several cases the injured party or the accuser acts as executioner, but not as judge.

[Footnote 101: Keating, Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River, i. 123 (Potawatomis). Richardson, Arctic Searching Expedition, ii. 27 (Chippewyans), Carver, Travels, p. 259 (Naudowessies). Dobrizhoffer, Account of the Abipones, ii. 163; &c.]

[Footnote 102: Lewis and Clarke, Travels to the Source of the Missouri River, p. 306 sq. (Shoshones). Powers, Tribes of California, p. 45 (Karok and Yurok). Dunbar, 'Pawnee Indians' in Magazine of American History, iv. 261. Arbousset and Daumas, op. cit. p. 67 (Mantetis). Ellis, Yoruba-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast, p. 300 (Tshi- and E[(w]e-speaking peoples of the African West Coast). Burckhardt, Bedouins and Wahábys, pp. 68, 70. Blunt, op. cit. ii. 232 sq. (Bedouins of the Euphrates). von Haxthausen, Transcaucasia, p. 415 (Ossetes).]

[Footnote 103: Ellis, Tour through Hawaii, p. 429. Williams and Calvert, Fiji and the Fijians, p. 23. Forbes, A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago, p. 473 (Timorese).]

[Footnote 104: Falkner, Description of Patagonia, p. 123. Anderson, Lake Ngami, p. 231 (Damaras).]

Thus among some Australian tribes, "a man accused of a serious offence gets a month's citation to appear before the tribunal, on pain of death if he disobeys. If he is found guilty of a private wrong, he is painted white, and made to stand out at fifty paces in front of the accuser and his friends, all fully armed. They throw at him a shower of spears and 'bumarangs,' from which he protects himself with a light shield."[105] Among the Aricara Indians of the Missouri, who, for the most part, punish murder with death, the nearest relative of the murdered man was deputed by the council to act the part of executioner.[106] With reference to the natives of Bali, Raffles says that "in the execution of the punishment awarded by the court there is this peculiarity, that the aggrieved party or his friends are appointed to inflict it."[107] In some parts of Afghanistan, "if the offended party complains to the Sirdar, or if he hears of a murder committed, he first endeavours to bring about a compromise, by offering the Khoon Behau, or price of blood; but if the injured party is inexorable, the Sirdar lays the affair before the King, who orders the Cauzy to try it; and, if the criminal is convicted, gives him up to be executed by the relations of the deceased."[108] Among the peoples round Lake Nyassa and Tanganyika and among the Bantu tribes generally, "when a murderer is caught and proved guilty he is given over {185} to the relatives of the person murdered, who have power to dispose of him as they choose."[109] A similar practice prevails among the Mishmis,[110] Bataks,[111] and Kamchadales.[112] It was also recognised by early Slavonic,[113] Teutonic, and English codes.[114] According to the provisions of a code granted so late as 1231, by the Abbey of St. Bertin to the town of Arques, when a man was convicted of intentional homicide, he was handed over to the family of the murdered person, to be slain by them.[115]

[Footnote 105: Fraser, Aborigines of New South Wales, p. 40 sq.]

[Footnote 106: Bradbury, Travels in the Interior of America, p. 168.]

[Footnote 107: Raffles, op. cit. ii. p. ccxxxvii.]

[Footnote 108: Elphinstone, Kingdom of Caubul, ii. 105 sq.]

[Footnote 109: Macdonald, in Jour. Anthr. Inst. xxii. 108.]

[Footnote 110: Cooper, Mishmee Hills, p. 238.]

[Footnote 111: von Brenner, op. cit. p. 212.]

[Footnote 112: Georgi, Russia, iii. 137.]

[Footnote 113: Macieiowski, Slavische Rechtsgeschichte, ii. 127.]

[Footnote 114: Wilda, Strafrecht der Germanen, p. 167. Lex Salica, 68. Laws of Cnut, i. 53. Leges Henrici I. lxxi. 1.]

[Footnote 115: Leges villæ de Arkes ab abbate S. Bertini concessæ, 28 (d'Achery, Spicilegium, iii. 608).]

But although, in innumerable cases, punishment and judicial organisation have succeeded a previous system of revenge, and thus are products of social development, their existence or non-existence among a certain people is no exact index to the general state of culture which that people has attained. Even among low savages we have noticed instances of punishments which are inflicted by the community as a whole, as also by special judicial authorities. On the other hand, we are taught by the history of European and Oriental nations, that the system of revenge is not inconsistent with a comparatively high degree of culture.[116] We can now see the reason for this apparent anomaly. In a small savage community, all the members of which are closely united with each other, an injury inflicted upon one is readily felt by all. The case may be different in a State consisting of loosely-connected social components, which, though forming a political unity, have little communication between themselves, and take no interest in each other's private dealings. And, whilst in the smaller society public resentment is thus more easily aroused, such a society also stands in more urgent need of internal peace.

[Footnote 116: See infra, on Blood-revenge.]

* * * * *

Our assumption that punishment is, in the main, an expression of public indignation, is opposed to another theory, according to which the chief object of punishment, not only ought to be, but actually is, or has been, {186} to prevent crime by deterring people from committing it. We are even told that punishment, inflicted for such a purpose, is, largely, at the root of the moral consciousness; that punishment is not the result of a sense of justice, but that the sense of justice is a result of punishment; that, by being punished by the State, certain acts gradually came to be regarded as worthy of punishment, in other words, as morally wrong.[117]

[Footnote 117: Rée, Ursprung der moralischen Empfindungen, p. 45 sqq. Idem, Entstehung des Gewissens, p. 190 sqq.]

There are certain facts which seem to support the supposition that punishment has, to a large extent, been intended to act as a deterrent. We find that among various semi-civilised and civilised peoples the criminal law has assumed a severity which far surpasses the rigour of the lex talionis.

Speaking of the Azteks, Mr. Bancroft observes that "the greater part of their code might, like Draco's, have been written in blood--so severe were the penalties inflicted for crimes that were comparatively slight, and so brutal and bloody were the ways of carrying those punishments into execution."[118] The punishment of death was inflicted on the man who dressed himself like a woman, on the woman who dressed herself like a man,[119] on tutors who did not give a good account of the estates of their pupils,[120] on those who carried off, or changed, the boundaries placed in the fields by public authority;[121] and should an adulterer endeavour to save himself by killing the injured husband, his fate was to be roasted alive before a slow fire, his body being basted with salt and water that death might not come to his relief too soon.[122] Nor did the ancient Peruvian code economise human suffering by proportioning penalties to crimes; the punishment most commonly prescribed by it was death.[123] The penal code of China, though less cruel in various respects than the European legislation of the eighteenth century, awards death for a third and aggravated theft, for defacing the branding inflicted for former offences,[124] and for privately casting copper coin;[125] whilst for the commission of the most heinous crimes {187} the penalty is "to be cut into ten thousand pieces," which appears to amount, at least, to a license to the executioner to aggravate and prolong the sufferings of the criminal by any species of cruelty he may think proper to inflict.[126] In Japan, before the revolution of 1871, "the punishments for crime had been both rigorous and cruel; death was the usual punishment, and death accompanied by tortures was the penalty for aggravated crimes.[127] According to the Mosaic law, death is inflicted for such offences as breach of the Lord's day,[128] going to wizards,[129] eating the fat of a beast of sacrifice,[130] eating blood,[131] approaching unto a woman "as long as she is put apart for her uncleanness,"[132] and various kinds of sexual offences.[133] The laws of Manu provide capital punishment for those who forge royal edicts and corrupt royal ministers;[134] for those who break into a royal store-house, an armoury, or a temple, and those who steal elephants, horses, or chariots;[135] for thieves who are taken with the stolen goods and the implements of burglary;[136] for cut-purses on the third conviction;[137] whilst a wife, who, proud of the greatness of her relatives or her own excellence, violates the duty which she owes to her lord, shall be devoured by dogs in a place frequented by many, and the male offender shall be burnt on a red-hot iron bed.[138]

[Footnote 118: Bancroft, Native Races of the Pacific States, ii. 454.]

[Footnote 119: Clavigero, History of Mexico, i. 358.]

[Footnote 120: Ibid. i. 359.]

[Footnote 121: Ibid. i. 355.]

[Footnote 122: Bancroft, op. cit. ii. 465 sq.]

[Footnote 123: Garcilasso de la Vega, First Part of the Royal Commentaries of the Yncas, i. 145, 151 sq.]

[Footnote 124: Wells Williams, Middle Kingdom, i. 512.]

[Footnote 125: Ta Tsing Leu Lee, sec. ccclix. p. 397.]

[Footnote 126: Ibid. sec. ccliv. p. 269 n. [dagger]]

[Footnote 127: Reed, Japan, i. 323. Thunberg, Travels, iv. 65.]

[Footnote 128: Exodus, xxxi. 14.]

[Footnote 129: Leviticus, xx. 6.]

[Footnote 130: Ibid. vii. 25.]

[Footnote 131: Ibid. vii. 27.]

[Footnote 132: Ibid. xviii. 19.]

[Footnote 133: Ibid. xviii. 6 sqq.]

[Footnote 134: Laws of Manu, ix. 232.]

[Footnote 135: Ibid. ix. 280.]

[Footnote 136: Ibid. ix. 270.]

[Footnote 137: Ibid. ix. 277.]

[Footnote 138: Ibid. viii. 371 sq.]

Increasing severity has been a characteristic of European legislation up to quite modern times. Towards the end of the thirteenth century, the English law knows some seven crimes which it treats as capital, namely, treason, homicide, arson, rape, robbery, burglary, and grand larceny; but the number of capital offences grew rapidly.[139] From the Restoration to the death of George III.--a period of 160 years--no less than 187 such offences, wholly different in character and degree, were added to the criminal code; and when, in 1837, the punishment of death was removed from about 200 crimes, it was still left applicable to exactly the same offences as were capital at the end of the thirteenth century.[140] Pocket-picking was punishable with death until the year 1808;[141] horse-stealing, cattle-stealing, {188} sheep-stealing, stealing from a dwelling-house, and forgery, until 1832;[142] letter-stealing and sacrilege, until 1835;[143] rape, until 1841;[144] robbery with violence, arson of dwelling-houses, and sodomy, until 1861.[145] And not only was human life recklessly sacrificed, but the mode of execution was often exceedingly cruel. In the beginning of the fifteenth century, the Peine forte et dure, or pressing to death with every aggravation of torture, was adopted as a manner of punishment suitable to cases where the accused refused to plead.[146] Burning alive of female offenders still occurred in England at the end of the eighteenth century,[147] being considered by the framers of the law as a commutation of the sentence of hanging required by decency.[148] Still more cruel was the punishment inflicted on male traitors: they were first hanged by the neck and cut down before life was extinct, their entrails were taken out and burned before their face, then they were beheaded and quartered, and the quarters were set up in diverse places.[149] This punishment continued to exist in England as late as in the reign of George III., and even then Sir Samuel Romilly, the great agitator against its continuance, brought upon himself the odium of the law officers of the Crown, who declared that he was "breaking down the bulwarks of the Constitution."[150] Such cruelties were not peculiar to the English. On the contrary, as Sir James Stephen observes, though English people, as a rule, have been singularly reckless about taking life, they have usually been averse to the infliction of death by torture.[151] In various parts of the Continent we find such punishments as breaking on the wheel, quartering alive, and tearing with red-hot pincers, in use down to the end of the eighteenth century.

[Footnote 139: Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. ii. 511.]

[Footnote 140: May, Constitutional History of England, ii. 595. Mackenzie, Studies in Roman Law, p. 424 sq.]

[Footnote 141: Pike, History of Crime in England, ii. 450.]

[Footnote 142: Ibid. ii. 451. Stephen, History of the Criminal Law of England, i. 474.]

[Footnote 143: Pike, op. cit. ii. 451. Stephen, op. cit. i. 474.]

[Footnote 144: Stephen, op. cit. i. 475.]

[Footnote 145: Ibid. i. 475.]

[Footnote 146: For the manner in which this torture was inflicted, see Andrews, Old-Time Punishments, p. 203 sq.]

[Footnote 147: Ibid. p. 198. Stephen, op. cit. i. 477.]

[Footnote 148: Andrews, op. cit. p. 192.]

[Footnote 149: Holinshed, Chronicles of England, &c. i. 310. Thomas Smith, Commonwealth of England, p. 198.]

[Footnote 150: Andrews, op. cit. p. 203. An earlier method of punishing traitors was boiling to death, which was adopted by Henry VIII. as a punishment for poisoners as well (Holinshed, op. cit. i. 311).]

[Footnote 151: Stephen, op. cit. i. 478. Cf. Thomas Smith, op. cit. p. 193 sq.]

It is interesting to compare these punishments with those practised among savages. Wanton cruelty is not a general characteristic of their public justice.

{189} Among several uncivilised peoples capital punishment is said to be unknown or almost so.[152] Among others it is restricted to a few particularly atrocious offences. Among the Greenlanders "none are put to death but murderers, and such witches as are thought to have killed some one by their art."[153] The Aleuts punished with death murderers and betrayers of community secrets.[154] In Samoa and New Guinea murder and adultery are punished capitally;[155] among the Bataks, open robbery and murder, provided that the offender is unable to redeem his life by a sum of money;[156] among the Kukis, only treason or an attempt at violence on the person of the King.[157] Among the Mishmis, adultery committed against the consent of the husband is punished with death, but all other crimes, including murder, are punished by fines; however if the amount is not forthcoming the offender is cut up by the company assembled.[158] In Kar Nicobar the only cause for a "death penalty" that Mr. Distant could discover was madness.[159] Among the Soolimas "murder is the only crime punishable with death."[160] Among the Congo natives "the only capital crimes are stated to be those of poisoning and adultery."[161] Of the kingdom of Fida Bosman writes, "Here are very few capital crimes, which are only murthers, and committing adultery with the King's or his great men's wives."[162] Among the Wanika two crimes are visited with capital punishment--murder and an improper use of sorcery;[163] among the Wagogo[164] and Washambala,[165] witchcraft only. Among the Basutos every murderer is by law liable to death, but the sentence is generally commuted into confiscation; an incorrigible thief sometimes pays with his head, but is generally fined, whereas treason and rebellion against authority are treated with more severity.[166] Among the Kafirs, cases of assault on the persons of wives of the chiefs, {190} and what are deemed aggravated cases of witchcraft, are the only crimes which usually involve the punishment of death, very summarily inflicted; whereas this punishment seldom follows even murder, when committed without the supposed aid of supernatural powers.[167]

[Footnote 152: von Siebold, Ethnol. Studien über die Aino auf Yesso, p. 35; Batchelor, Ainu and their Folk-Lore, p. 284. Dalton, op. cit. p. 115 (Kakhyens). Marsden, op. cit. p. 248 (Rejangs of Sumatra). Riedel, De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua, p. 103 (Serangese). Worcester, op. cit. pp. 413, 492 (Mangyans and Tagbanuas). Kubary, 'Die Palau-Inseln,' in Journal des Museum Godeffroy, iv. 42 (Pelew Islanders). de Abreu, op. cit. p. 152 (Canary Islanders). Frisch, Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's, p. 322 (Hottentots).]

[Footnote 153: Cranz, op. cit. i. 177.]

[Footnote 154: Petroff, loc. cit. p. 152.]

[Footnote 155: Turner, Samoa, p. 178. Chalmers, Pioneering in New Guinea, p. 179.]

[Footnote 156: Marsden, op. cit. p. 389.]

[Footnote 157: Dalton, op. cit. p. 45. Stewart, in Jour. As. Soc. Bengal, xxiv. p. 627.]

[Footnote 158: Griffith, ibid. vi. 332.]

[Footnote 159: Distant, in Jour. Anthr. Inst. iii. 6.]

[Footnote 160: Laing, Travels, p. 365.]

[Footnote 161: Tucker, Expedition to Explore the River Zaire, p. 383.]

[Footnote 162: Bosman, op. cit. p. 331.]

[Footnote 163: New, op. cit. p. 111.]

[Footnote 164: Beverley, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 215.]

[Footnote 165: Lang, ibid. p. 259.]

[Footnote 166: Casalis, op. cit. p. 228.]

[Footnote 167: Maclean, Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs, p. 35 sq.]

Nor, as it seems, is savage justice fond of torturing its victims before they are killed. The Maoris exclaimed loudly against the English method of executing criminals, first telling them that they are to die, then letting them lie for days and nights in prison, and finally leading them slowly to the gallows. "If a man commits a crime worthy of death," they said, "we shoot him, or chop off his head; but we do not tell him first that we are going to do so."[168] Dr. Codrington gives the following description of the cases of burning persons alive which have occasionally happened in Pentecost Island:--"In fighting time there, if a great man were very angry with the hostile party, he would burn a wounded enemy. When peace had been made and the chiefs had ordered all to behave well that the country might settle down in quiet, if any one committed such a crime as would break up the peace, such as adultery, they would tie him to a tree, heap fire-wood round him, and burn him alive, a proof to the opposite party of their detestation of his wickedness. This was not done coolly as a matter of course in the execution of a law, but as a horrible thing to do, and done for the horror of it; a horror renewed in the voice and face of the native who told me of the roaring flames and shrieks of agony."[169] This story is not without interest when compared with the cold-blooded burning of female criminals and women suspected of witchcraft in Christian Europe.

[Footnote 168: Yate, Account of New Zealand, p. 105.]

[Footnote 169: Codrington, op. cit. p. 347.]

There is sufficient evidence to show that the severe punishments adopted by peoples of a higher culture have been regarded by them as beneficial to society. The legislators themselves often refer to the deterrent effects of punishment.

The Peruvian Incas considered that light punishments gave confidence to evil-doers, whilst "through their great care in punishing a man's first delinquency, they avoided the effects of his second and third, and of the host of others that are committed in every commonwealth where no diligence is observed {191} to root up the evil plant at the commencement."[170] According to the Prefatory Edict of the Emperor Kaung-hee, published in 1679, the chief ends proposed by the institution of punishments in the Chinese Empire "have been to guard against violence and injury, to repress inordinate desires, and to secure the peace and tranquillity of an honest and unoffending community."[171] In the Laws of Manu punishment is described as a protector of all creatures:--"If the king did not, without tiring, inflict punishment on those worthy to be punished, the stronger would roast the weaker, like fish on a spit; the crow would eat the sacrificial cake and the dog would lick the sacrificial viands, and ownership would not remain with any one, the lower ones would usurp the place of the higher ones. The whole world is kept in order by punishment, for a guiltless man is hard to find; through fear of punishment the whole world yields the enjoyments which it owes."[172] Even the gods, the Dânavas, the Gandharvas, the Râkshasas, the bird and snake deities, give the enjoyments due from them only if they are tormented by the fear of punishment.[173] In mediæval law-books determent is frequently referred to as an object of punishment.[174] And in more modern times, till the end of the eighteenth century at least, the idea that punishment should inspire fear was ever present to the minds of legislators.

[Footnote 170: Garcilasso de la Vega, op. cit. i. 151 sq.]

[Footnote 171: Ta Tsing Leu Lee, p. lxvii.]

[Footnote 172: Laws of Manu, vii. 14, 15, 20-22, 24 sq.]

[Footnote 173: Ibid. vii. 23.]

[Footnote 174: Leges Burgundionum, Leges Gundebati, 52: "Rectius enim paucorum condempnatione multitudo corregitur, quam sub specie incongruae civilitatis intromittatur occasio, quae licentiam tribuat delinquendi." Capitulare Aquisgranense An. 802, 33: "Sed taliter hoc corripiantur, ut caeteri metum habeant talia perpetrandi" (Migne, Patrologiæ cursus, xcvii. 230). Chlotar II. Edictum de Synodo Parisiensi, 24: "In ipsum capitali sententia judicetur, qualiter alii non debeant similia perpetrare" (Migne, op. cit. lxxx. 454). For other instances, see Brunner, Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte, ii. 588, n. 6.]

The same idea is also conspicuous in the practice of punishing criminals in public.[175] A petty thief in the pillory and a scold on the cucking-stool were, in earlier times, spectacles familiar to everybody, whilst persons still living remember seeing offenders publicly whipped in the streets. "A gallows or tree with a man hanging upon it," says Mr. Wright, "was so frequent an object in the country that it seems to have been almost a natural ornament of a landscape, and it is thus introduced by no {192} means uncommonly in mediæval manuscripts."[176] In atrocious cases it was usual for the court to direct the murderer, after execution, to be hung upon a gibbet in chains near the place where the fact was committed, "with the intention of thereby deterring others from capital offences"; and in order that the body might all the longer serve this useful purpose, it was saturated with tar before it was hung in chains.[177] The popularity which mutilation as a punishment enjoyed during the Middle Ages was largely due to the opinion, that "a malefactor miserably living was a more striking example of justice than one put to death at once."[178]

[Footnote 175: Günther, Die Idee der Wiedervergeltung, i. 211 sq. n. 31.]

[Footnote 176: Wright, History of Domestic Manners and Sentiments in England during the Middle Ages, p. 346.]

[Footnote 177: Holinshed, op. cit. i. 311. Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England, iv. 201. Cox, 'Hanging in Chains,' in The Antiquary, xxii. 213 sq.]

[Footnote 178: Strutt, View of the Manners, &c. of the Inhabitants of England, ii. 8.]

We shall now consider whether these facts really contradict our thesis that punishment is essentially an expression of public indignation.

It may, first, be noticed that the punishment actually inflicted on the criminal is in many cases much less severe than the punishment with which the law threatens him. In China the execution of the law is, on the whole, lenient in comparison with its literal and prima facie interpretation.[179] "Many of the laws seem designed to operate chiefly in terrorem, and the penalty is placed higher than the punishment really intended to be inflicted, to the end that the Emperor may have scope for mercy, or, as he says, 'for leniency beyond the bounds of the law.'"[180] In Europe, during the Middle Ages, malefactors frequently received charters of pardon, and in later times it became a favourite theory that it was good policy, in framing penal statutes, to make as many offences as possible capital, and to leave to the Crown to relax the severity of the law. In England, about the beginning of the nineteenth century, the punishment of death was actually inflicted in only a small proportion of the cases in {193} which sentence was passed; indeed, "not one in twenty of the sentences was carried into execution."[181] This discrepancy between law and practice bears witness, not only to the extent to which the minds of legislators were swayed by the idea of inspiring fear, but to the limitation of determent as a penal principle. It has been observed that the excessive severity of laws hinders their execution. "Society revolted against barbarities which the law prescribed. Men wronged by crimes, shrank from the shedding of blood, and forbore to prosecute: juries forgot their oaths and acquitted prisoners, against evidence: judges recommended the guilty to mercy."[182] Yet, in spite of all such deductions, there can be no doubt that the hangman had plenty to do. Hanging persons, says Mr. Andrews, was almost a daily occurrence in the earlier years of the nineteenth century, "for forging notes, passing forged notes, and other crimes which we now almost regard with indifference."[183]

[Footnote 179: Staunton, in his Preface to Ta Tsing Leu Lee, p. xxvii. sq.]

[Footnote 180: Wells Williams, op. cit. i. 392 sq.]

[Footnote 181: Stephen, op. cit. i. 471. May, op. cit. ii. 597.]

[Footnote 182: May, op. cit. ii. 597.]

[Footnote 183: Andrews, op. cit. p. 218. Cf. Olivecrona, Om dödsstraffet, p. x.]

Another circumstance worth mentioning is, that in earlier times the detection of criminals was much rarer and more uncertain than it is now.[184] It has been argued on utilitarian grounds that, "to enable the value of the punishment to outweigh that of the profit of the offence, it must be increased, in point of magnitude, in proportion as it falls short in point of certainty."[185] But the rareness of detection would also for purely emotional reasons tend to increase the severity of the punishment. When one criminal out of ten or twenty is caught, the accumulated indignation of the public turns against him, and he becomes a scapegoat for all the rest.

[Footnote 184: Cf. Morrison, Crime and its Causes, p. 175.]

[Footnote 185: Bentham, Principles of Morals and Legislation, p. 184. Cf. Paley, Moral and Political Philosophy, vi. 9 (Complete Works, ii. 371).]

However, the chief explanation of the great severity of certain criminal codes lies in their connection with despotism or religion or both.[186] An act which is prohibited {194} by law may be punished, not only on account of its intrinsic character, but for the very reason that it is illegal. When the law is, from the outset, an expression of popular feelings, the severity of the penalty with which it threatens the transgressor depends, in the first place, on the public indignation evoked by the act itself, independently of the legal prohibition of it. But the case is different with laws established by despotic rulers or ascribed to divine lawgivers. Such laws have a tendency to treat criminals not only as offenders against the individuals whom they injure or against society at large, but as rebels against their sovereign or their god. Their disobedience to the will of the mighty legislator incurs, or is supposed to incur, his anger, and is, in consequence, severely resented. But however severe they be, the punishments inflicted by the despot on disobedient subjects are not regarded as mere outbursts of personal anger. In the archaic State the king is an object of profound regard, and even of religious veneration. He is looked upon as a sacred being, and his decrees as the embodiment of divine justice. The transgression of any law he makes is, therefore, apt to evoke a feeling of public indignation proportionate to the punishment which he pleases to inflict on the transgressor. Again, as to acts which are supposed to arouse the anger of invisible powers, the people are anxious to punish them with the utmost severity so as to prevent the divine wrath from turning against the community itself. But the fear which, in such cases, lies at the bottom of the punishment, is certainly combined with genuine indignation against the offender, both because he rebels against God and religion, and because he thereby exposes the whole community to supernatural dangers.

[Footnote 186: This has been previously pointed out by Prof. Durkheim, in his interesting essay, 'Deux lois de l'évolution pénale' (L'année sociologique, iv. [1899-1900], p. 64 sqq.), with which I became acquainted only when the present chapter was already in type. Montesquieu observes (De l'esprit des lois, vi. 9 [[OE]uvres, p. 231]), "Il serait aisé de prouver que, dans tous ou presque tous les États d'Europe, les peines ont diminué ou augmenté à mesure qu'on s'est plus approché ou plus éloigné de la liberté."]

{195} Various facts might be quoted in support of this explanation. Whilst the punishments practised among the lower races generally, are not conspicuous for their severity, there are exceptions to this rule among peoples who are governed by despotic rulers.

Under the Ashanti code, even the most trivial offences are punishable with death.[187] In Madagascar, also, "death was formerly inflicted for almost every offence."[188] In Uganda the ordinary punishments were "death by fire, being hacked to pieces by reed splinters, fine, imprisonment in the stocks mvuba, or in the **slave fork kaligo, also mutilation. It is most common to see people deprived of an eye, or in some cases of both eyes; persons lacking their ears are also frequently met with."[189] Among the Wassukuma, whose chieftains used to have power of life and death over their subjects, a person who was guilty of disobedience to his ruler, or of some action which the ruler considered wicked and punishable, was condemned to death.[190] In the Sandwich Islands, "a chief takes the life of one of his own people for any offence he may commit, and no one thinks he has a right to interfere."[191]

[Footnote 187: Ellis, Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast, p. 166.]

[Footnote 188: Ellis, History of Madagascar, i. 374.]

[Footnote 189: Ashe, Two Kings of Uganda, p. 293. Cf. Wilson and Felkin, Uganda and the Egyptian Soudan, i. 201.]

[Footnote 190: Kollmann, Victoria Nyanza, p. 431.]

[Footnote 191: Ellis, Tour through Hawaii, p. 431.]

In the old monarchies of America and Asia there was an obvious connection between the punishments prescribed by their laws and the religious-autocratic form of their governments. According to Garcilasso de la Vega, the Peruvians--among whom the most common punishment was death--maintained "that a culprit was not punished for the delinquencies he had committed, but for having broken the commandment of the Ynca, who was respected as God," and that, viewed in this light, the slightest offence merited to be punished with death.[192] In China the Emperor was regarded as the vicegerent of Heaven especially chosen to govern all nations, and was supreme in everything, holding at once the highest legislative and executive powers, without limit or control.[193] According {196} to ancient Japanese ideas, "the duty of a good Japanese consists in obeying the Mikado, without questioning whether his commands are right or wrong. The Mikado is god and vicar of all the gods, hence government and religion are the same."[194] In Rome the criminal law, which for a long time was characterised by great moderation,[195] gradually grew more severe according as absolutism made progress. Sylla, the dictator, not only put thousands of citizens to death by proscription without any form of trial, but fixed, in the Cornelian criminal code, for heinous offences the punishment called aquæ et ignis interdictio. Under the Emperors some new and cruel capital punishments were introduced, such as burning alive and exposing to wild beasts; whilst at the same time offences such as driving away horses or cattle were made capital.[196] In mediæval and modern Europe the increase of the royal power was accompanied by increasing severity of the penal codes. Every crime came to be regarded as a crime against the King. Indeed, breach of the King's peace became the foundation of the whole Criminal Law of England; the right of pardon, for instance, as a prerogative of the Crown, took its origin in the fact that the King was supposed to be injured by a crime, and could therefore waive his remedy.[197] And the King was not only regarded as the fountain of social justice, but as the earthly representative of the heavenly lawgiver and judge.[198]

[Footnote 192: Garcilasso de la Vega, op. cit. i. 145.]

[Footnote 193: Wells Williams, op. cit. i. 393.]

[Footnote 194: Griffis, Religions of Japan, p. 92. Cf. Idem, Mikado's Empire, p. 100.]

[Footnote 195: Cf. Livy, x. 9; Polybius, vi. 14; Gibbon, History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, v. 318, 326.]

[Footnote 196: Mackenzie, Studies in Roman Law, pp. 408, 409, 414. Gibbon, op. cit. v. 320. Cf. Mommsen, Römisches Strafrecht, p. 943.]

[Footnote 197: Cherry, Growth of Criminal Law in Ancient Communities, pp. 68, 105.]

[Footnote 198: Henke, Grundriss einer Geschichte des deutschen peinlichen Rechts, ii. 310. Abegg, Die verschiedenen Strafrechtstheorieen, p. 117. Du Boys, Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne, p. 323.]

Of the connection between punishment and the belief in supernatural agencies many instances are found already in the savage world.[199] The great severity with which certain {197} infractions of custom are punished has obviously a superstitious origin. In Polynesia, according to Ellis, "the prohibitions and requisitions of the tabu were strictly enforced, and every breach of them punished with death, unless the delinquents had some very powerful friends who were either priests or chiefs.[200] Among the western tribes of Torres Straits, "death was the penalty for infringing the rules connected with the initiation period i.e., for sacrilege."[201] Among the Port Lincoln aborigines the women and children are not allowed to see any of the initiation ceremonies, and "any impertinent curiosity on their part is punishable with death, according to the ancient custom."[202] Among the Masai, who believe that the boiling of milk will cause the cows to run dry, "any one caught doing so can only atone for the sin with a fearfully heavy fine, or, failing that, the insult to the holy cattle will be wiped out in his blood."[203] The penalty of death which is frequently imposed on incest or other sexual offences is largely due to the influence of religious or superstitious beliefs.[204] And in various cases of sacrilege the offender is offered up as a sacrifice to the resentful god.[205]

[Footnote 199: Steinmetz, Ethnol. Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe, ii. 340 sq. The connection between punishment and religion has been emphasised by Prof. Durkheim (Division du travail social, p. 97 sqq.) and M. Mauss ('La religion et les origines du droit pénal,' in Revue de l'histoire des religions, vols. xxxiv. and xxxv.). But Prof. Durkheim exaggerates the importance of this connection by assuming (p. 97) that "le droit pénal à l'origine était essentiellement religieux."]

[Footnote 200: Ellis, Tour through Hawaii, p. 394. Cf. Olmsted, Incidents of a Whaling Voyage, p. 248 sq.; Mauss, in op. cit. xxxv. 55.]

[Footnote 201: Haddon, 'Ethnography of the Western Tribes of Torres Straits,' in Jour. Anthr. Inst. xix. 335.]

[Footnote 202: Schürmann, 'Aboriginal Tribes of Port Lincoln,' in Woods, Native Tribes of South Australia, p. 234.]

[Footnote 203: Johnston, Kilima-njaro Expedition, p. 425.]

[Footnote 204: See infra, on Sexual Morality.]

[Footnote 205: See infra, on Human Sacrifice.]

According to Hebrew notions, it is man's duty to avenge offences against God; every crime involves a breach of God's law, and is punishable as such, and hardly any punishment is too severe to be inflicted on the ungodly.[206] These ideas were adopted by the Christian Church and by Christian governments.[207] The principle {198} stated in the Laws of Cnut, that "it belongs very rightly to a Christian king that he avenge God's anger very deeply, according as the deed may be,"[208] was acted upon till quite modern times, and largely contributed to the increasing severity of the penal codes. It was therefore one of the most important steps towards a more humane legislation when, in the eighteenth century, this principle was superseded by the contrary doctrine, "Il faut faire honorer la Divinité, et ne la venger jamais."[209]

[Footnote 206: Cf. Robertson Smith, Religion of the Semites, p. 162 sq.]

[Footnote 207: von Eicken, Geschichte und System der mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung, p. 563 sqq. Abegg, op. cit. p. 111 sq. Wilda, Strafrecht der Germanen, p. 530 sq. Günther, op. cit. ii. 12 sqq. Henke, op. cit. ii. 310 sq. Brunner, op. cit. ii. 587.]

[Footnote 208: Laws of Cnut, ii. 40.]

[Footnote 209: Montesquieu, De l'esprit des lois, xii. 4 ([OE]uvres, p. 282).]

From the fact, then, that crimes are punished not only as wrongs against individuals, but as wrongs against the State, and, especially, as wrongs against some despotic or semi-divine lawgiver, or against the Deity, it follows that even seemingly excessive punishments may, to a large extent, be regarded as manifestations of public resentment. This emotion does not necessarily demand like for like. The law of talion presupposes equality of rights; it is not applicable to impersonal offences, nor to offences against kings or gods. And as the demands of public resentment may exceed the lex talionis, so they may on the other hand fall short of it. Moreover, though the degree of punishment on the whole more or less faithfully represents the degree of indignation aroused by any particular crime in comparison with other crimes belonging to the same penal system, we must not take the comparative severity of the criminal laws of different peoples as a safe index to the intensity of their reprobation of crime. As we have seen before, the strength of moral indignation cannot be absolutely measured by the desire to cause pain to the offender. When the emotion of resentment is sufficiently refined, the infliction of suffering is regarded as a means rather than as an end.

By all this I certainly do not mean to deny that punishment, though in the main an expression of public indignation, is also applied as a means of deterring from crime. Criminal law is preventive, its object is to forbid and {199} to warn, and it uses punishment as a threat. But the acts which the law forbids are, as a rule, such as public opinion condemns as wrong, and it is their wrongness that in all ages has been regarded as the justification of the penalties to which they are subject. It is true that there are instances in which the law punishes acts which in themselves are not apt to evoke public resentment, and others in which the severity of the punishment does not exactly correspond with the resentment they evoke. The State may have a right to sacrifice the welfare of individuals in order to attain some desirable end. It may have a right to do so in cases where no crime has been committed, it would therefore seem to be all the more justified in doing so when the evil has been preceded by a warning. And yet, in the case of punishment, it is only within narrow limits that such a right is granted to the State. To punish a person could not simply mean that he has to suffer for the benefit of the society; there is always opprobrium connected with punishment. Hence the scope which justice leaves for determent pure and simple is not wide. Sir James Stephen observes:--"You cannot punish anything which public opinion, as expressed in the common practice of society, does not strenuously and unequivocally condemn. To try to do so is a sure way to produce gross hypocrisy and furious reaction."[210] Experience shows that the fate of all disproportionately severe laws which make too liberal use of punishment as a deterrent is that they come to be little followed in practice and are finally annulled. As Gibbon says, "whenever an offence inspires less horror than the punishment awarded to it, the rigour of penal law is obliged to give way to the common feelings of mankind."

[Footnote 210: Stephen, Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, p. 159. Cf. Mommsen, Römisches Strafrecht, p. 91 sq.]

Numerous data, to be referred to in following chapters, will show how faithfully punishment reflects the emotion of resentment, and how impossible it would be to explain it from considerations of social utility without close reference {200} to the feeling of justice. Why, for instance, should the attempt to commit a crime, when its failure obviously depends on mere chance, be punished less severely than the accomplished crime, if not because the indignation it arouses is less intense? Would not the same amount of suffering be requisite to deter a person from attempting to murder his neighbour as to deter him from actually committing the murder? And is there any reason to suppose that the unsuccessful offender is less dangerous to society than he who succeeds? All the facts referring to criminal responsibility, as we shall see, suggest resentment, not determent, as the basis of punishment, and so does the gradation of the punishment conformably to the magnitude of the crime.[211] According to the principle of determent, as expressed by Anselm von Feuerbach and others, punishment should be neither more nor less severe than is necessary for the suppression of crime.[212] But if this rule were really acted upon, the penalties imposed, especially on minor offences, which the law has been utterly unable to suppress, would certainly be much less lenient than they actually are. Moreover, if there were no intrinsic connection between punishment and resentment, how could we explain the predilection of early law for the principle of talion--an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life--[213] which, as we have seen, so frequently regulates the custom of revenge?

[Footnote 211: Cf. Durkheim, Division du travail social, p. 93 sq.]

[Footnote 212: von Feuerbach, Ueber die Strafe als Sicherungsmittel vor künftigen Beleidigungen des Verbrechers, p. 83. von Gizycki, Introduction to the Study of Ethics, p. 188.]

[Footnote 213: On this subject, see Günther, op. cit. passim.]

The criminal law of a society may thus, on the whole, be taken for a faithful exponent of moral sentiments prevalent in that society at large. The attempt to make law independent of morality, and to allot to it a kingdom of its own, is really, I think, only an excuse for the moral shortcomings which it reveals if scrutinised from the standpoint of a higher morality. Law does not show us the moral consciousness in its refinement. But refinement {201} is a rare thing, and criminal law is in the main on a level with the unreflecting morality of the vulgar mind. Philosophers and theorisers on law would do better service to humanity if they tried to persuade people not only that their moral ideas require improvement, but that their laws, so far as possible, ought to come up to the improved standard, than they do by wasting their ingenuity in sophisms about the sovereignty of Law and its independence of the realm of Justice.

Chapter VIII

THE GENERAL NATURE OF THE SUBJECTS OF ENLIGHTENED MORAL JUDGMENTS

THE subjects of moral judgments call for a very comprehensive investigation, which will occupy the main part of this work. As already said, we shall first discuss the general nature, and afterwards the particular branches, of those phenomena which have a tendency to evoke moral condemnation or moral praise; and in each case our investigation will be both historical and explanatory. The present chapter, however, will be neither the one nor the other. It seems desirable to examine the general nature of the subjects of moral valuation from the standpoint of the enlightened moral consciousness before dealing with the influence which their various elements have come to exercise upon moral judgments in the course of evolution. By doing this, we shall be able, from the outset, to distinguish between elements which are hardly discernible, or separable, at the lower stages of mental development, as also to fix the terminology which will be used in the future discussion.

Moral judgments are commonly said to be passed upon conduct and character. This is a convenient mode of expression, but the terms need an explanation.

Conduct has been defined sometimes as "acts adjusted to ends,"[1] sometimes as acts that are not only adjusted to ends, but definitely willed.[2] The latter definition is too {203} narrow for our present purpose, because, as will be seen, it excludes from the province of conduct many phenomena with reference to which moral judgments are passed. The same may be said of the former definition also, which, moreover, is unnecessarily wide, including as it does an immense number of phenomena with which moral judgments are never concerned. Though no definition of conduct could be restricted to such phenomena as actually evoke moral emotions, the term "conduct" seems, nevertheless, to suggest at least the possibility of moral valuation, and is therefore hardly applicable to such "acts adjusted to ends" as are performed by obviously irresponsible beings. It may be well first to fix the meaning of the word "act."

[Footnote 1: Spencer, Principles of Ethics, i. 5.]

[Footnote 2: E.g., Mackenzie, Manual of Ethics, p. 85.]

According to Bentham, acts may be distinguished as external, or acts of the body, and internal, or acts of the mind. "Thus, to strike is an external or exterior act: to intend to strike, an internal or interior one."[3] But this application of the word is neither popular nor convenient. The term "act" suggests something besides intention, whilst, at the same time, it suggests something besides muscular contractions. To intend to strike is no act, nor are the movements involved in an epileptic fit acts.

[Footnote 3: Bentham, Principles of Morals and Legislation, p. 73.]

An act comprises an event and its immediate mental cause. The event is generally spoken of as the outward act, but this term seems to be too narrow, since the intentional production of a mental fact--for instance, a sensation, or an idea, or an emotion like joy or sorrow or anger--may be properly styled an act. The objection will perhaps be raised that I confound acts with their consequences, and that what I call the "event" is, as Austin maintains, nothing but bodily movements. But Austin himself admits that he must often speak of "acts" when he means "acts and their consequences," since "most of the names which seem to be names of acts, are names of acts, coupled with certain of their consequences, {204} and it is not in our power to discard these forms of speech."[4] I regard the so-called consequences of acts, in so far as they are intended, as acts by themselves, or as parts of acts.

[Footnote 4: Austin, Lectures on Jurisprudence, i. 427, 432 sq.]

The very expression "outward act" implies that acts also have an inner aspect. Intention, says Butler, "is part of the action itself."[5] By intention I understand a volition or determination to realise the idea of a certain event; hence there can be only one intention in one act. Certain writers distinguish between the immediate and the remote intentions of an act. Suppose that a tyrant, when his enemy jumped into the sea to escape him, saved his victim from drowning with a view to inflicting upon him more exquisite tortures. The immediate intention, it is maintained, was to save the enemy from drowning, the remote intention was to inflict upon him tortures.[6] But I should say that, in this case, we have to distinguish between two acts, of which the first was a means of producing the event belonging to the second, and that, when the former was accomplished, the latter was still only in preparation. A distinction has, moreover, been drawn between the direct and the indirect intention of an act:--"If a Nihilist seeks to blow up a train containing an Emperor and others, his direct intention may be simply the destruction of the Emperor, but indirectly also he intends the destruction of the others who are in the train, since he is aware that their destruction will be necessarily included along with that of the Emperor."[7] In this case we have two intentions, and, so far as I can see, two acts, provided that the nihilist succeeded in carrying out his intentions, namely (1) the blowing up of the train, and (2) the killing of the emperor; the former of these acts does not even necessarily involve the latter. But I fail to see that there is any intention at all to kill other {205} persons. Professor Sidgwick maintains that it would be thought absurd to say that, in such a case, the nihilist "did not intend" to kill them;[8] but the reason for this is simply the vagueness of language, and a confusion between a psychical fact and the moral estimate of that fact. It might be absurd to bring forward the nihilist's non-intention as an extenuation of his crime; but it would hardly be correct to say that he intended the death of other passengers, besides that of the emperor, when he only intended the destruction of the train, though this intention involved an extreme disregard of the various consequences which were likely to follow. He knowingly exposed the passengers to great danger; but if we speak of an intention on his part to expose them to such a danger, we regard this exposure as an act by itself.

[Footnote 5: Butler, 'Dissertation II. Of the Nature of Virtue,' in Analogy of Religion, &c. p. 336.]

[Footnote 6: Mackenzie, op. cit. p. 60. The example is borrowed from Stuart Mill, Utilitarianism, p. 27 note.]

[Footnote 7: Mackenzie, op. cit. p. 61. Cf. Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics, p. 202, n. 1.]

[Footnote 8: Sidgwick, op. cit. p. 202, n. 1. On the subject of "indirect intention," cf. also Bentham, op. cit. pp. 84, 86.]

A moral judgment may refer to a mere intention, independently of its being realised or not. Moreover, the moral judgments which we pass on acts do not really relate to the event, but to the intention. In this point moralists of all schools seem to agree.[9] Even Stuart Mill, who drew so sharp a distinction between the morality of the act and the moral worth of the agent, admits that "the morality of the action depends entirely upon the intention."[10] The event is of moral importance only in so far as it indicates a decision which is final. From the moral point of view there may be a considerable difference between a resolution to do a certain thing in a distant future and a resolution to do it immediately. However determined a person may be to commit a crime, or to perform a good deed, the idea of the immediacy of the event may, in the last moment, induce him to change his mind. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." External events are generally the direct causes of our moral emotions; indeed, without the doing of harm and the doing of good, the moral consciousness would never {206} have come into existence. Hence the ineradicable tendency to pass moral judgments upon acts, even though they really relate to the final intentions involved in acts. It would be both inconvenient and useless to deviate, in this respect, from the established application of terms. And no misunderstanding can arise from such application if it be borne in mind that by an "act," as the subject of a moral judgment, is invariably understood the event plus the intention which produced it, and that the very same moral judgment as is passed on acts would also, on due reflection, be recognised as valid with reference to final decisions in cases where accidental circumstances prevented the accomplishment of the act.

[Footnote 9: Sidgwick, op. cit. p. 201.]

[Footnote 10: Stuart Mill, Utilitarianism, p. 27 note. Cf. James Mill, Fragment on Mackintosh, p. 376.]

It is in their capacity of volitions that intentions are subjects of moral judgments. What is perfectly independent of the will is no proper object of moral blame or moral praise. On the other hand, any volition may have a moral value. But, so far as I can see, there are volitions which are not intentions. A person is morally accountable also for his deliberate wishes, and the reason for this is that a deliberate wish is a volition. I am aware that, by calling deliberate wishes "volitions," I offend against the terminology generally adopted by psychologists. However, a deliberate wish is not only from a moral point of view--as being a proper subject of moral valuation--but psychologically as well, so closely akin to a decision, that there must be a common term comprising both. In the realm of conations, deliberate wishes and decisions form together a province by themselves. In contradistinction to mere conative impulses, they are expressions of a person's character, of his will. A deliberate wish may just as well as a decision represent his "true self." It has been argued that a person may will one thing and yet wish the opposite thing. Locke observes:--"A man whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which, at the same time I am speaking, I may wish may not prevail upon him. In this case it is plain the will and desire run counter, I will the action that {207} tends one way, whilst my desire tends another, and that the direct contrary way."[11] Yet in this case I either do not intend to persuade the man, but only to discharge my office by speaking to him words which are apt to have a persuasive effect on him; or, if I do intend to persuade him, I do not in the same moment feel any deliberate wish to the contrary, although I may feel such a wish before or afterwards. We cannot simultaneously have an intention to do a thing and a deliberate wish not to do it.

[Footnote 11: Locke, Essay concerning Human Understanding, ii. 21. 30 (Philosophical Works, p. 219).]

If it is admitted that moral judgments are passed on acts simply in virtue of their volitional character, it seems impossible to deny that such judgments may be passed on the motives of acts as well. By "motive" I understand a conation which "moves" the will, in other words, the conative cause of a volition.[12] The motive itself may be, or may not be, a volition. If it is, it obviously falls within the sphere of moral valuation. The motive of an act may even be an intention, but an intention belonging to another act. When Brutus helped to kill Cæsar in order to save his country, his intention to save his country was the cause, and therefore the motive, of his intention to kill Cæsar. The fact that an intention frequently acts as a motive has led some writers to the conclusion that the motive of an act is a part of the intention. But if the intention of an act is part of the act itself, and a motive is the cause of an intention, the motive of an intention cannot be a part of that intention, since a part cannot be the cause of the whole of which it forms a part.

[Footnote 12: "The term 'motive,'" says Professor Stout (Groundwork of Psychology, p. 233 sq.) "is ambiguous. It may refer to the various conations which come into play in the process of deliberation and tend to influence its result. Or it may refer to the conations which we mentally assign as the ground or reason of our decision when it has been fully formed." Motive, in the former sense of the term, is not implied in what I here understand by motive. On the other hand, it should be observed that there are motives not only for decisions, but for deliberate wishes--another circumstance which shows the affinity between these two classes of mental facts.]

But even motives which, being neither deliberate wishes {208} nor intentions, consist of non-volitional conations, and, therefore, are no proper subjects of moral valuation, may nevertheless indirectly exercise much influence on moral judgments. Suppose that a person without permission gratifies his hunger with food which is not his own. The motive of his act is a non-volitional conation, an appetite, and has consequently no moral value. Yet it must be taken into account by him who judges upon the act. Other things being equal, the person in question is less guilty in proportion as his hunger is more intense. The moral judgment is modified by the pressure which the non-volitional motive exercises upon the agent's will. The same is the case when the motive of an act is the conative element involved in an emotion. If a person commits a certain crime under the influence of anger, he is not so blamable as if he commits the same crime in cold blood. Thus, also, it is more meritorious to be kind to an enemy from a feeling of duty, than to be kind to a friend from a feeling of love. No man deserves blame or praise for the pressure of a non-volitional conation upon his will, unless, indeed, such a pressure is due to choice, or unless it might have been avoided with due foresight. But a person may deserve blame or praise for not resisting that impulse, or for allowing it to influence his will for evil or good.

It is true that moral judgments are commonly passed on acts without much regard being paid to their motives;[13] but the reason for this is only the superficiality of ordinary moral estimates. Moral indignation and moral approval are, in the first place, aroused by conspicuous facts, and, whilst the intention of an act is expressed in the act itself, its motive is not. But a conscientious judge cannot, like the multitude, be content with judging of the surface only. Stuart Mill, in his famous statement that "the motive has nothing to do with the morality of the action, though much with the worth of the agent,"[14] has drawn a distinction {209} between acts and agents which is foreign to the moral consciousness. It cannot be admitted that "he who saves a fellow creature from drowning does what is morally right, whether his motive be duty, or the hope of being paid for his trouble." He ought, of course, to save the other person from drowning, but at the same time he ought to save him from a better motive than a wish for money. It may be that "he who betrays his friend that trusts him is guilty of a crime, even if his object be to serve another friend to whom he is under greater obligations";[15] but surely his guilt would be greater if he betrayed his friend, say, in order to gain some personal advantage thereby. Intentions and motives are subjects of moral valuation not separately, but as a unity; and the reason for this is that moral judgments are really passed upon men as acting or willing, not upon acts or volitions in the abstract. It is true that our detestation of an act is not always proportionate to our moral condemnation of the agent; people do terrible things in ignorance. But our detestation of an act is, properly speaking, a moral emotion only in so far as it is directed against him who committed the act, in his capacity of a moral agent. We are struck with horror when we hear of a wolf eating a child, but we do not morally condemn the wolf.

[Footnote 13: Cf. James Mill, Fragment on Mackintosh, p. 376; Sidgwick, op. cit. p. 364.]

[Footnote 14: Stuart Mill, Utilitarianism, p. 26.]

[Footnote 15: Ibid. p. 26.]

A volition may have reference not only to the doing of a thing, but to the abstaining from doing a thing. It may form part not only of an act, but of a forbearance. A forbearance is morally equivalent to an act, and the volition involved in it is equivalent to an intention. "Sitting still, or holding one's peace," says Locke, "when walking or speaking are proposed, though mere forbearances, requiring as much the determination of the will, and being as often weighty in their consequences as the contrary actions, may, on that consideration, well enough pass for actions too."[16] Yet it is hardly correct to call them acts. Bentham's division of acts into acts of commission {210} and acts of omission or forbearance[17] is not to be recommended. A not-doing I do not call an act, and the purpose of not doing I do not call an intention.[18] But the fact remains that a forbearance involves a distinct volition, which, as such, may be the subject of moral judgment no less than the intention involved in an act.

[Footnote 16: Locke, op. cit. ii. 21, 28 (Philosophical Works, p. 218).]

[Footnote 17: Bentham, op. cit. p. 72.]

[Footnote 18: Cf. Clark, Analysis of Criminal Liability, p. 42.]

Willing not to do a thing must be distinguished from not willing to do a thing; forbearances must be distinguished from omissions. An omission--in the restricted sense of the word--is characterised by the absence of volition. It is, as Austin puts it, "the not doing a given act, without adverting (at the time) to the act which is not done."[19] Now moral judgments refer not only to willing, but to not-willing as well, not only to acts and forbearances, but to omissions. It is curious that this important point has been so little noticed by writers on ethics, although it constitutes a distinct and extremely frequent element in our moral judgments. It has been argued that what is condemned in an omission is really a volition, not the absence of a volition; that an omission is bad, not because the person did not do something, but because he did something else, "or was in such a condition that he could not will, and is condemned for the acts which brought him into that condition."[20] In the latter case, of course, the man cannot be condemned for his omission, since he cannot be blamed for not doing what {211} he "could not will"; but to say that an omission is condemned only on account of the performance of some act is undoubtedly a psychological error. If a person forgets to discharge a certain duty incumbent on him, say, to pay a debt, he is censured, not for anything he did, but for what he omitted to do. He is blamed for not doing a thing which he ought to have done, because he did not think of it; he is blamed for his forgetfulness. In other words, his guilt lies in his negligence.

[Footnote 19: Austin, op. cit. i. 438.]

[Footnote 20: Alexander, Moral Order and Progress, p. 34 sq. So, also, Professor Sidgwick maintains (op. cit. p. 60) that "the proper immediate objects of moral approval or disapproval would seem to be always the results of a man's volitions so far as they were intended--i.e., represented in thought as certain or probable consequences of such volitions," and that, in cases of carelessness, moral blame, strictly speaking, attaches to the agent, only "in so far as his carelessness is the result of some wilful neglect of duty." A similar view is taken by the moral philosophy of Roman Catholicism. (Göpfert, Moraltheologie, i. 113). Binding, again, assumes (Die Normen, ii. 105 sqq.) that a person may have a volition without having an idea of what he wills, and that carelessness implies a volition of this kind. Otherwise, he says, the will could not be held responsible for the result. But, as we shall see immediately, the absence of a volition may very well be attributed to a defect of the will, and the will thus be regarded as the cause of an unintended event. To speak of a volition or will to do a thing of which the person who wills it has no idea seems absurd.]

Closely related to negligence is heedlessness, the difference between them being seemingly greater than it really is. Whilst the negligent man omits an act which he ought to have done, because he does not think of it, the heedless man does an act from which he ought to have forborne, because he does not consider its probable or possible consequences.[21] In the latter case there is acting, in the former case there is absence of acting. But in both cases the moral judgment refers to want of attention, in other words, to not-willing. The fault of the negligent man is that he does not think of the act which he ought to perform, the fault of the heedless man is that he does not think of the probable or possible consequences of the act which he performs. In rashness, again, the party adverts to the mischief which his act may cause, but, from insufficient advertence assumes that it will not ensue; the fault of the rash man is partial want of attention.[22] Negligence, heedlessness, and rashness, are all included under the common term "carelessness."

[Footnote 21: The meaning of the word "negligence," in the common use of language, is very indefinite. It often stands for heedlessness as well, or for carelessness. I use it here in the sense in which it was applied by Austin (op. cit. i. 439 sq.).]

[Footnote 22: Austin, op. cit. i. 440 sq. Clark, op. cit., p. 101.]

Our moral judgments of blame, however, are concerned with not-willing only in so far as this not-willing is attributed to a defect of the will, not to the influence of intellectual or other circumstances for which no man can be held responsible. That power in a person which we call his "will" is regarded by us as a cause, not only of {212} such events as are intended, but of such events as we think that the person "could" have prevented by his will. And just as, in the case of volitions, the guilt of the party is affected by the pressure of non-voluntary motives, so in the case of carelessness mental facts falling outside the sphere of the will must be closely considered by the conscientious judge. But nothing is harder than to apply this rule in practice.

Equally difficult is it, in many cases, to decide whether a person's behaviour is due to want of advertence, or is combined with a knowledge of what his behaviour implies, or of the consequences which may result from it--to decide whether it is due to carelessness, or to something worse than carelessness. For him who refrains from performing an obligatory act, though adverting to it, "negligent" is certainly too mild an epithet, and he who knows that mischief will probably result from his deed is certainly worse than heedless. Yet even in such cases the immediate object of blame may be the absence of a volition--not a want of attention, but a not-willing to do, or a not-willing to refrain from doing, an act in spite of advertence to what the act implies or to its consequences. I may abstain from performing an obligatory act though I think of it, and yet, at the same time, make no resolution not to perform it. So, too, if a man is ruining his family by his drunkenness, he may be aware that he is doing so, and yet he may do it without any volition to that effect. In these cases the moral blame refers neither to negligence or heedlessness, nor to any definite volition, but to disregard of one's duty or of the interests of one's family. At the same time, the transition from conscious omissions into forbearances, and the transition from not-willing to refrain from doing into willing to do, are easy and natural; hence the distinction between willing and not-willing may be of little or no significance from an ethical point of view. For this reason such consequences of an act as are foreseen as certain or probable have commonly been included under the term "intention,"[23] {213} often as a special branch of intention--"oblique," or "indirect," or "virtual" intention;[24] but, as was already noticed, this terminology is hardly appropriate. I shall call such consequences of an act as are foreseen by the agent, and such incidents as are known by him to be involved in his act, "the known concomitants" of the act. When the nihilist blows up the train containing an emperor and others, with a view to killing the emperor, the extreme danger to which he exposes the others is a known concomitant of his act. So, also, in most crimes, the breach of law, as distinct from the act intended, is a known concomitant of the act, inasmuch as the criminal, though aware that his act is illegal, does not perform it for the purpose of violating the law. As Bacon said, "no man doth a wrong for the wrong's sake, but thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure, or honour, or the like."[25]

[Footnote 23: Cf. Sidgwick, op. cit. p. 202.]

[Footnote 24: Bentham, op. cit. p. 84. Austin, op. cit. i. 480. Clark, op. cit. pp. 97, 100.]

[Footnote 25: Bacon, 'Essay IV. Of Revenge' in Essays, p. 45. Cf. Grotius, De jus belli et pacis, ii. 20. 29. 1: "Vi quisquam gratis malus est."]

Absence of volitions, like volitions themselves, give rise not only to moral blame, but to moral praise. We may, for instance, applaud a person for abstaining from doing a thing, beneficial to himself but harmful to others, which, in similar circumstances, would have proved too great a temptation to any ordinary man; and it does not necessarily lessen his merit if the opposite alternative did not even occur to his mind, and his abstinence, therefore could not possibly be ascribed to a volition. Very frequently moral praise refers to known concomitants of acts rather than to the acts themselves. The merit of saving another person's life at the risk of losing one's own, really lies in the fact that the knowledge of the danger did not prevent the saver from performing his act; and the merit of the charitable man really depends on the loss which he inflicts upon himself by giving his property to the needy. In these and analogous cases of self-sacrifice for a good end, the merit, strictly speaking, consists in not-willing to {214} avoid a known concomitant of a beneficial act. But there are instances, though much less frequent, in which moral praise is bestowed on a person for not-willing to avoid a known concomitant which is itself beneficial. Thus it may on certain conditions be magnanimous of a person not to refrain from doing a thing, though he knows that his deed will benefit somebody who has injured him, and towards whom the average man in similar circumstances would display resentment.

All these various elements into which the subjects of moral judgments may be resolved, are included in the term "conduct." By a man's conduct in a certain case is understood a volition, or the absence of a volition in him--which is often, but not always or necessarily, expressed in an act, forbearance, or omission--viewed with reference to all such circumstances as may influence its moral character. In order to form an accurate idea of these circumstances, it is necessary to consider not only the case itself, but the man's character, if by character is understood a person's will regarded as a continuous entity.[26] The subject of a moral judgment is, strictly speaking, a person's will conceived as the cause either of volitions or of the absence of volitions; and, since a man's will or character is a continuity, it is necessary that any judgment passed upon him in a particular case, should take notice of his will as a whole, his character. We impute a person's acts to him only in so far as we regard them as a result or manifestation of his character, as directly or indirectly due to his will. Hume observes:--"Actions are, by their very nature, temporary and perishing; and where they proceed not from some cause in the character and disposition of the person who performed them, they can neither redound to his honour, if good; nor infamy, if evil. . . . The person is not answerable for them; and as they proceeded {215} from nothing in him, that is durable and constant, and leave nothing of that nature behind them, it is impossible he can, upon their account, become the object of punishment or vengeance."[27] There is thus an intimate connection between character and conduct as subjects of moral valuation. When judging of a man's conduct in a special instance, we judge of his character, and when judging of his character, we judge of his conduct in general.

[Footnote 26: Cf. Alexander, op. cit. p. 49: "Character is simply that of which individual pieces of conduct are the manifestation." To the word "character" has also been given a broader meaning. According to John Grote (Treatise on the Moral Ideals, p. 442), a person's character "is his habitual way of thinking, feeling, and acting."]

[Footnote 27: Hume, Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, viii. 2 (Philosophical Works, iv. 80). Cf. Idem, Treatise of Human Nature, iii. 2 (ibid. ii. 191). See also Schopenhauer, Die beiden Grundprobleme der Ethik (Sämmtliche Werke, vol. vii.), pp. 123, 124, 281.]

It will perhaps be remarked that moral judgments are passed not only on conduct and character, but on emotions and opinions; for instance, that resentment in many cases is deemed wrong, and love of an enemy is deemed praiseworthy, and that no punishment has been thought too severe for heretics and unbelievers. But even in such instances the object of blame or praise is really the will. The person who feels resentment is censured because his will has not given a check to that emotion, or because the hostile attitude of mind has led up to a definite volition. Very frequently the irascible impulse in resentment or the friendly impulse in kindly emotion develops into a volition to inflict an injury or to bestow a benefit on its object; and the words resentment and love themselves are often used to denote, not mere emotions, but states of mind characterised by genuine volitions. An emotion, or the absence of an emotion, may also, when viewed as a symptom, give rise to, and be the apparent subject of, a moral judgment. We are apt to blame a person whose feelings are not affected by the news of a misfortune which has befallen his friend, because we regard this as a sign of an uncharitable character. We may be mistaken, of course. The same person might have been the first to try to prevent the misfortune if it had been in his power; but we judge from average cases.

As for opinions and beliefs, it may be said that they involve responsibility in so far as they are supposed to {216} depend on the will. Generally it is not so much the opinion itself but rather the expression, or the outward consequence, of it that calls forth moral indignation; and in any case the blame, strictly speaking, refers either to such acts, or to the cause of the opinion within the will. That a certain belief, or "unbelief," is never as such a proper object of censure is recognised both by Catholic and Protestant theology. Thomas Aquinas points out that the sin of unbelief consists in "contrary opposition to the faith, whereby one stands out against the hearing of the faith, or even despises faith," and that, though such unbelief itself is in the intellect, the cause of it is in the will. And he adds that in those who have heard nothing of the faith, unbelief has not the character of a sin, "but rather of a penalty, inasmuch as such ignorance of divine things is a consequence of the sin of our first parent."[28] Dr. Wardlaw likewise observes:--"The Bible condemns no man for not knowing what he never heard of, or for not believing what he could not know. . . . Ignorance is criminal only when it arises from wilful inattention, or from aversion of heart to truth. Unbelief involves guilt, when it is the effect and manifestation of the same aversion--of a want of will to that which is right and good."[29] To shut one's eyes to truth may be a heinous wrong, but nobody is blamable for seeing nothing with his eyes shut.

[Footnote 28: Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, ii.-ii. 10. 1 sq.]

[Footnote 29: Wardlaw, Sermons on Man's Accountableness for his Belief, &c. p. 38.]

After these preliminary remarks, which refer to the scrutinising and enlightened moral consciousness, we shall proceed to discuss in detail, and from an evolutionary point of view, the various elements of which the subjects of moral judgments consist.

Chapter IX

THE WILL AS THE SUBJECT OF MORAL JUDGMENT AND THE INFLUENCE OF EXTERNAL EVENTS

HOWEVER obvious it may be to the reflecting moral consciousness that the only proper object of moral blame and praise is the will, it would be a hasty conclusion to assume that moral judgments always and necessarily relate to the will. There are numerous facts which tend to show that such judgments are largely influenced by external events involved in, or resulting from, the conduct of men.

Some peoples are said to make no distinction between intentional and accidental injuries. Most statements to this effect refer to revenge or compensation.

Von Martius states that, among the Arawaks, "the blood-revenge is so blind and is practised so extensively, that many times an accidental death leads to the destruction of whole families, both the family of him who killed and of the family of the victim";[1] and, according to Sir E. F. Im Thurn, the smallest injury done by one Guiana Indian to another, even if unintentional, must be atoned by the suffering of a similar injury.[2] Adair, in his work on the North American Indians, says that they pursued the law of retaliation with such a fixed eagerness, that formerly if a little boy shooting birds in the high and thick cornfields unfortunately chanced slightly to wound another with his childish arrow, "the young vindictive fox was excited by custom to watch his ways with the utmost earnestness, till the wound was returned in as equal a manner {218} as could be expected."[3] Among the Ondonga in South Africa,[4] the Nissan Islanders in the Bismarck Archipelago,[5] and certain Marshall Islanders,[6] the custom of blood-revenge makes no distinction between wilful and accidental homicide. Among the Kasias "destruction of human life, whether by accident or design, in open war or secret, is always the cause of feud among the relations of the parties."[7] It seems that the blood-revenge of the early Greeks was equally indiscriminate.[8] As for the blood-feuds of the ancient Teutons, Wilda maintains that, even in prehistoric times, it was hardly conformable to good custom to kill the involuntary manslayer;[9] but there is every reason to believe that custom made no protest against it. According to the myth of Balder, accident was no excuse for shedding blood. Loke gives to Hödur the mistletoe twig, and asks him to do like the rest of the gods, and show Balder honour, by shooting at him with the twig. Hödur throws the mistletoe at Balder, and kills him, not knowing its power. According to our notions, blind Hödur is perfectly innocent of his brother's death; yet the avenger, Vali, by the usual Germanic vow, neither washes nor combs his hair till he has killed Hödur. It is also instructive to note that the narrator of this story finds himself called upon to explain, and, in a manner, to excuse the Asas for not punishing Hödur at once, the place where they were assembled being a sacred place.[10] We find survivals of a similar view in laws of a comparatively recent date. The earliest of the Norman customals declares quite plainly that the man who kills his lord by misadventure must die.[11] And, according to a passage in 'Leges Henrici I.,' in case A by mischance falls from a tree upon B and kills him, then, if B's kinsman must needs have vengeance, he may climb a tree and fall upon A.[12] This provision has been justly represented as a curious instance of a growing appreciation of moral differences, which has not dared to abolish, but has tried to circumvent the ancient rule.[13]

[Footnote 1: von Martius, Beiträge zür Ethnographie Amerika's, i. 693 sq.]

[Footnote 2: Im Thurn, Among the Indians of Guiana, p. 214.]

[Footnote 3: Adair, History of the American Indians, p. 150.]

[Footnote 4: Rautanen, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 341.]

[Footnote 5: Sorge, ibid. p. 418.]

[Footnote 6: Kohler, in Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss. xiv. 443. See also Idem, Shakespeare vor dem Forum der Jurisprudenz, p. 188.]

[Footnote 7: Fisher, in Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal, ix. 835.]

[Footnote 8: Rohde, Psyche, pp. 237, 238, 242.]

[Footnote 9: Wilda, Strafrecht der Germanen, p. 174.]

[Footnote 10: Snorri Sturluson, 'Gylfaginning,' 50, in Edda, p. 59. Cf. Brunner, Forschungen zur Geschichte des deutschen und französischen Rechtes, p. 489.]

[Footnote 11: Pollock and Maitland, History of English Law before the Time of Edward I. ii. 482.]

[Footnote 12: Leges Henrici I. xc. 7.]

[Footnote 13: Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. ii. 471.]

{219} Among the Kandhs "similar compensation is made in all cases both of excusable homicide and of manslaughter."[14] And the same is said to be the case among various other savages or barbarians.[15]

[Footnote 14: Macpherson, Memorials of Service in India, p. 82.]

[Footnote 15: Crawfurd, History of the Indian Archipelago, iii. 123. Ellis, E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast, p. 223. Munzinger, Ostafrikanische Studien, p. 502 (Barea and Kunáma).]

However, this want of discrimination between intentional and accidental injuries is not restricted to cases of revenge or compensation. Early punishment is sometimes equally indiscriminate.

Among the Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush, "murder, justifiable homicide, and killing by inadvertence in a quarrel, are all classed as one crime, and punished in the same way. Extenuating circumstances are never considered. The single question asked is, Did the man kill the other? The penalty is an extremely heavy blood-ransom to the family of the slain man, or perpetual exile combined with spoliation of the criminal's property."[16] Parkyns tells us the following story from Abyssinia:--A boy who had climbed a tree, happened to fall down right on the head of his little comrade standing below. The comrade died immediately, and the unlucky climber was in consequence sentenced to be killed in the same way as he had killed the other boy, that is, the dead boy's brother should climb the tree in his turn, and tumble down on the other's head till he killed him.[17] The Cameroon tribes do not recognise the circumstance of accidental death:--"He who kills another accidentally must die. Then, they say, the friends of each are equal mourners."[18] Among the negroes of Accra, according to Monrad, accidental homicide is punished as severely as intentional.[19]

[Footnote 16: Scott Robertson, Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush, p. 440.]

[Footnote 17: Parkyns, Life in Abyssinia, ii. 236 sqq.]

[Footnote 18: Richardson, 'Observations among the Cameroon Tribes of West Central Africa,' in Memoirs of the International Congress of Anthropology, Chicago, p. 203. See also Leuschner, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 24 (Bakwiri); ibid. p. 51 (Banaka and Bapuku).]

[Footnote 19: Monrad, Guinea-Kysten og dens Indbyggere, p. 88.]

Yet it would obviously be a mistake to suppose that, at early stages of civilisation, people generally look only at the harm done, and not in the least at the will of him who did it. Even in the system of private redress we often {220} find a distinction made between intentional or foreseen injuries on the one hand, and unintentional and unforeseen injuries on the other. In many instances, whilst blood-revenge is taken for voluntary homicide, compensation is accepted for accidental infliction of death.[20] And sometimes the chief or the State interferes on behalf of the involuntary manslayer, protecting him from the persecutions of the dead man's family.

[Footnote 20: Cf. Kohler, Shakespeare vor dem Forum der Jurisprudenz, p. 188, n. 1.]

Among the African Wapokomo intention makes a difference in the revenge.[21] Among the Papuans of the Tami Islands blood-revenge is common in the case of murder, but is not exacted in the case of accidental homicide; the involuntary manslayer has only to pay a compensation and to leave the community for a certain length of time.[22] Among the Namaqua Hottentots custom demands that compensation should be accepted for unintentional killing.[23] We meet with the same principle among the Albanians[24] and the Slavs,[25] in the past history of other European peoples,[26] in ancient Yucatan,[27] and in the religious law of Muhammedanism.[28] Among the Kabyles of Algeria, "si les m[oe]urs n'autorisent jamais la famille victime d'un homicide volontaire à amnistier un crime, elles lui permettent presque toujours de pardonner la mort qui ne résulte que d'une maladresse ou d'un accident." They have a special ceremony by which the family of the deceased grant pardon to the involuntary manslayer, but the pardon must be given unanimously. The manslayer then becomes a member of the kharuba, or gens, of the deceased.[29] Among the Omahas, "when one man killed another accidentally, he was rescued by the interposition of the chiefs, and subsequently was punished as if he were a murderer, but only for a year or two."[30] The {221} ancient law of the Hebrews, which recognised the right and duty of private revenge in cases of intentional homicide, laid down special rules for homicide by misfortune. He who killed another unawares and unwittingly might flee to a city of refuge, where he was protected against the avenger of blood as long as he remained there.[31] In ancient Rome the involuntary manslayer seems to have been exposed to the blood-feud until a law attributed to Numa ordained that he should atone for the deed by providing a ram to be sacrificed in his place.[32]

[Footnote 21: Kraft, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 292.]

[Footnote 22: Bamler, quoted by Kohler, in Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss. xiv. 380.]

[Footnote 23: Fritsch, Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's, p. 363.]

[Footnote 24: Gop[vc]evi['c], Oberalbanien und seine Liga, p. 327.]

[Footnote 25: Miklosich, 'Blutrache bei den Slaven,' in Denkschriften der kaiserl. Akademie der Wissensch. Philos.-histor. Classe, Vienna, xxxvi. 131.]

[Footnote 26: Leist, Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte, p. 324. Ancient Laws of Ireland, iii. p. cxxiv. For the ancient Teutons, see infra, p. 226.]

[Footnote 27: de Landa, Relacion de las cosas de Yucatan, p. 134.]

[Footnote 28: Koran, iv. 94. Cf. Sachau, Muhammedanisches Recht nach Schafiitischer Lehre, p. 761 sq.]

[Footnote 29: Hanoteau and Letourneux, La Kabylie, iii. 68 sq.]

[Footnote 30: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. iii. 370.]

[Footnote 31: Deuteronomy, iv. 42. Numbers, xxxv. 11 sqq. Joshua, xx. 3 sqq.]

[Footnote 32: Servius, In Virgilii Bucolica, 43. Cf. von Jhering, Das Schuldmoment im römischen Privatrecht, p. 11.]

Among some peoples who accept compensation even for wilful murder, the blood-price is lower if life is taken unintentionally.[33]

[Footnote 33: Beverley, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 215 (Wagogo). Dareste, Nouvelles études d'histoire du droit, p. 237 (Swanetians of the Caucasus).]

According to Bowdich, "a person accidentally killing another in Ahanta, pays 5 oz. of gold to the family, and defrays the burial customs. In the case of murder, it is 20 oz. of gold and a slave; or, he and his family become the slaves of the family of the deceased."[34] Ancient Irish law imposed an Eric fine for accidental or unintentional homicide, to be paid to the relatives of the dead man, whilst a double fine was due for homicide where anger was shown, i.e., where probably there was what we should call "malice."[35]

[Footnote 34: Bowdich, Mission from Cape Castle to Ashantee, p. 258, n. [double dagger].]

[Footnote 35: Cherry, Growth of Criminal Law in Ancient Communities, p. 22.]

In the punishments inflicted by many savages, a similar distinction is made between intentional and accidental harm, although, at the same time, some degree of guilt is frequently imputed to persons who, in our opinion, are perfectly innocent.

Speaking of the West Australian aborigines, Sir G. Grey observes:--"If a native is slain by another wilfully, they kill the murderer, or any of his friends they can lay hands on. If a native kills another accidentally, he is punished according to the circumstances of the case." And the punishment may be severe enough. "For instance, if, in inflicting spear wounds as a punishment for some offence, one of the agents should spear the culprit through the thigh, and accidentally so injure the {222} femoral artery that he dies, the man who did so would have to submit to be speared through both thighs himself."[36] In New Guinea, according to Dr. Chalmers, murder is punished capitally, whereas a death caused by accident is expiated by a fine.[37] Among the Mpongwe, "except in the case of a chief or a very rich man, little or no difference is made between wilful murder, justifiable homicide, and accidental manslaughter."[38] Kafir law seems to demand no compensation for what is clearly proved to have been a strictly accidental injury to property, but the case is different in regard to accidental injuries to persons, if the injury be of a serious nature. Thus "it seems to make little or no distinction between wilful murder and any other kind of homicide; unless it be, perhaps, that in purely accidental homicide the full amount of the fine may not be so rigidly insisted upon."[39] Among the A-l[=u]r, in the case of accidental injuries, a compensation is paid to the injured party and a fine to the chief. Whilst the strict punishment for murder is death, the culprit is allowed to redeem himself if it cannot be proved that he committed the deed wilfully.[40] The Masai regard accidental homicide, or injury, as "the will of N'gai," "the Unknown," and "the elders arrange what compensation shall be paid to the injured person (if a male) or to the nearest relative. If a woman is killed by accident, all the killer's property becomes the property of the nearest relative."[41] The Eastern Central Africans, according to the Rev. D. Macdonald, "know the difference between an injury of accident and one of intention."[42] And so do the natives of Nossi-Bé and Mayotte, near Madagascar.[43]

[Footnote 36: Grey, Journals of Expeditions of Discovery in North-West and Western Australia, ii. 238 sq.]

[Footnote 37: Chalmers, Pioneering in New Guinea, p. 179.]

[Footnote 38: Burton, Two Trips to Gorilla Land, i. 105.]

[Footnote 39: Maclean, Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs, pp. 113, 67, 60.]

[Footnote 40: Stuhlmann, Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Afrika, p. 524.]

[Footnote 41: Hinde, The Last of the Masai, p. 108.]

[Footnote 42: Macdonald, Africana, i. 11.]

[Footnote 43: Walter, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 393.]

Nay, there are instances of uncivilised peoples who entirely excuse, or do not punish, a person for an injury which he has inflicted by mere accident, even though they may compel him to pay damages for involuntary destruction of property.

We are told that the Pennsylvania Indians "judge with calmness on all occasions, and decide with precision, or endeavour {223} to do so, between an accident and a wilful act; the first, they say, they are all liable to commit, and therefore it ought not to be noticed, or punished; the second being a wilful or premeditated act, committed with a bad design, ought on the contrary to receive due punishment,"[44] Among some of the Marshall Islanders unintentional wrongs are punished only if the injured party be a person of note, for instance, a chief, or a member of a chief's family.[45] Among the Papuans of the Tami Islands, "accidental injuries are not punished. Generally the culprit confesses his deed, and makes an apology. If he has caused the destruction of some valuable, he has to repair the loss."[46] Among the Wadshagga there is no punishment for an accidental hurt; but if anybody's property has been damaged thereby, a compensation amounting to one half of the damage may be required.[47] The Hottentots do not nowadays punish accidents, even in the case of homicide.[48] Among the Washambala a person is held responsible only for such injuries as he has inflicted intentionally or caused by carelessness.[49] In some parts of West Africa, if a man, woman, or child, not knowing what he or she does, damages the property of another person, "native justice requires, and contains in itself, that if it can be proved the act was committed in ignorance that was not a culpable ignorance, the doer cannot be punished according to the law."[50]

[Footnote 44: Buchanan, North American Indians, p. 160 sq.]

[Footnote 45: Kohler, in Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss. xiv. 448.]

[Footnote 46: Bamler, quoted by Kohler, ibid. xiv. 381.]

[Footnote 47: Merker, quoted by Kohler, ibid. xv. 64.]

[Footnote 48: Kohler, ibid. xv. 353.]

[Footnote 49: Lang, in Steinmetz, Rechtsverhältnisse, p. 261.]

[Footnote 50: Miss Kingsley, in her Introduction to Dennett's Notes on the Folklore of the Fjort, p. xi.]

These instances of occasional discrimination in savage justice are particularly interesting in the face of the fact that, even among peoples who have attained a higher degree of culture, innocent persons are often punished by law for bringing about events without any fault of theirs.

It is a principle of the Chinese law that "all persons who kill or wound others purely by accident, shall be permitted to redeem themselves from the punishment of killing or wounding in an affray, by the payment in each case of a fine to the family of the person deceased or wounded."[51] But there are exceptions to this rule. Any {224} person who kills his father, mother, paternal grandfather or grandmother, and any wife who kills her husband's father, mother, paternal grandfather or grandmother, "purely by accident, shall still be punished with 100 blows and perpetual banishment to the distance of 3,000 lee. In the case of wounding purely by accident, the persons convicted thereof shall be punished with 100 blows and three years' banishment: in these cases, moreover, the parties shall not be permitted to redeem themselves from punishment by the payment of a fine, as usual in the ordinary cases of accident."[52] Again, slaves who accidentally kill their masters, "shall suffer death, by being strangled at the usual period."[53] It is also a characteristic provision of the Chinese law that an act of grace is necessary for relieving all those from punishment who have offended accidentally and inadvertently.[54]

[Footnote 51: Ta Tsing Leu Lee, sec. ccxcii. p. 314.]

[Footnote 52: Ibid. sec. cccxix. p. 347. Cf. ibid. sec. ccxcii. p. 314.]

[Footnote 53: Ibid. sec. cccxiv. p. 338.]

[Footnote 54: Ibid. sec. xvi. p. 18.]

It is said in the Laws of [Hv]ammurabi:--"If a man has struck a man in a quarrel, and has caused him a wound, that man shall swear 'I did not strike him knowing' and shall answer for the doctor. If he has died of his blows, he shall swear, and if he be of gentle birth he shall pay half a mina of silver. If he be the son of a poor man, he shall pay one-third of a mina of silver."[55]

[Footnote 55: Laws of [Hv]ammurabi, 206 sqq.]

It has been observed that the purpose of the Hebrew law of sanctuary was not merely to protect the involuntary manslayer from blood-revenge, but at the same time to punish him and compel him to expiate the blood he has shed.[56] If he left the city of refuge before the death of the high-priest, the avenger of blood might kill him without incurring blood-guiltiness; and he was not permitted to purchase an earlier return to his possession with a money ransom.[57]

[Footnote 56: Goitein, Das Vergeltungsprincip im biblischen und talmudischen Strafrecht, p. 25 sq. Keil, Manual of Biblical Archæology, ii. 371.]

[Footnote 57: Numbers, xxxv. 26 sqq.]

According to the Laws of Manu, "he who damages the {225} goods of another, be it intentionally or unintentionally, shall give satisfaction to the owner and pay to the king a fine equal to the damage";[58] and various rites of expiation are prescribed for a person who kills a Brâhmana by accident,[59] whereas the intentional slaying of a Brâhmana is inexpiable.[60]

[Footnote 58: Laws of Manu, viii. 288.]

[Footnote 59: Ibid. xi. 73 sqq.]

[Footnote 60: Ibid. xi. 90. Gautama, xxi. 7. According to some authorities, however, the wilful slaying of a Brâhmana was expiable by a penance of greater severity (Bühler's note, in his translation of the 'Laws of Manu,' Sacred Books of the East, xxv. 449).]

Demosthenes praises the Athenian law for making the penalty of unintentional homicide less than that of intentional. The punishment for murder was death, from which, however, before the sentence was passed, the murderer was at liberty to escape by withdrawing from his country and remaining in perpetual exile. But he who was convicted of involuntary homicide had to leave the country only for some shorter time, until he had appeased the relatives of the deceased.[61] As will be seen subsequently, the real object of this law was not so much to punish the involuntary manslayer, as to save him from being persecuted by the dead man's ghost, and to rid the community of a pollution. However, the Athenian law does not represent the ideas of early times. As Dr. Farnell observes, the constitution and the legend about the foundation of the court at the Palladium, which was established to try cases of unintentional blood-shedding, shows that the ancient practice was susceptible of improvement.[62] Nor does the Roman law, which, in its developed shape, with such a remarkable consistency carried out the Cornelian principle, "in maleficiis voluntas spectatur non exitus,"[63] seem to have been equally discriminate in early times.[64] In the Law of the Twelve Tables there are still some faint traces left of the notion that expiation was required of a person who accidentally shed human blood.[65]

[Footnote 61: Demosthenes, Contra Aristocratem, 71 sq. p. 643 sq.]

[Footnote 62: Aristotle, De republica Atheniensium, 57. Farnell, Cults of the Greek States, i. 304.]

[Footnote 63: Digesta, xlviii. 8. 14.]

[Footnote 64: von Jhering, Das Schuldmoment im römischen Privatrecht, p. 16. Mommsen, Römisches Strafrecht, p. 85.]

[Footnote 65: Mommsen, op. cit. p. 85.]

{226} The principle of ancient Teutonic law was, "Qui inscienter peccat, scienter emendet"--a maxim laid down by the compiler of the so-called 'Laws of Henry I.,'[66] no doubt translating an old English proverb.[67] In historic times, the law, distinguishing between vili and vadhi, treats intentional homicide as worse than unintentional. In one case there can, in the other there can not, be a legitimate feud; and whilst wilful manslaughter can be expiated only by wíte, as well as wer, the involuntary manslayer has to pay wer to the family of the dead, but no wíte to the authorities.[68] Yet the wer to be paid was not merely compensation for the loss sustained, as Wilda, misled by his enthusiasm for Teutonic law, has erroneously assumed;[69] it was punishment as well.[70] And the character of criminality attached to accidental homicide survived the system of wer. When homicide became a capital offence, homicide by misadventure was included in the law. However, the involuntary manslayer was not executed, but recommended to the "mercy" of the prince. This was the case in England in the later Middle Ages,[71] and in France still more recently.[72] And when the English law was altered, and the involuntary offender no longer was in need of mercy, he nevertheless continued to be treated as a criminal. He was punished with forfeiture of his goods. According to the rigour of the law such a forfeiture might have been exacted even in the year 1828, when the law was finally abolished after having fallen into desuetude in the course of the previous century.[73]

[Footnote 66: Leges Henrici I. xc. 11.]

[Footnote 67: Pollock and Maitland, History of the English Law before the Time of Edward I. i. 54.]

[Footnote 68: Wilda, op. cit. p. 545 sqq., 594. Idem, Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte, i. 165. Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. ii. 471.]

[Footnote 69: Wilda, op. cit. p. 578.]

[Footnote 70: Geyer, Die Lehre von der Nothwehr, p. 87 sq. Trummer Vorträge über Tortur, &c. i. 345. Brunner, Forschungen, p. 505 sq.]

[Footnote 71: Bracton, De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ, fol. 134, vol. ii. 382 sq.; fol. 104 b, vol. ii, 152 sq. Brunner, Forschungen, p. 494 sqq. Biener, Das englische Geschwornengericht, i. 120, 392. Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. ii. 479.]

[Footnote 72: Beaumanoir, Les coutumes du Beauvoisis, 69, vol. ii. 483. Esmein, Histoire de la procédure criminelle en France, p. 255.]

[Footnote 73: Stephen, History of the Criminal Law of England, iii. 77.]

If men at the earlier stages of civilisation generally {227} attach undue importance to the outward aspect of conduct, the same is still more the case with their gods.

The Tshi-speaking peoples of the Gold Coast believe that the god Sasabonsum "takes delight in destroying all those who have offended him, even though the offence may have been accidental and unintentional"; whereas, among the same people, it is the custom that even deaths resulting from accidents, not to speak of minor injuries, are compensated for by a sum of money.[74] Miss Kingsley says she is unable, from her own experience, to agree with Mr. Dennett's statement with reference to the Fjort, that ignorance would save the man who had eaten prohibited food. From what she knows, Merolla's story is correct: the man, though he eat in ignorance, dies or suffers severely. "It is true," she adds, "that one of the doctrines of African human law is that the person who offends in ignorance, that is not a culpable ignorance, cannot be punished; but this merciful dictum I have never found in spirit law. Therein if you offend, you suffer; unless you can appease the enraged spirit, neither ignorance nor intoxication is a feasible plea in extenuation."[75] The Omahas believe that to eat of the totem, even in ignorance, would cause sickness, not only to the eater, but also to his wife and children.[76]

[Footnote 74: Ellis, Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast, pp. 35, 301.]

[Footnote 75: Miss Kingsley, in her Introduction to Dennett's Folklore of the Fjort, p. xxviii.]

[Footnote 76: Frazer, Totemism, p. 16.]

Speaking of the sacred animals of the ancient Egyptians, Herodotus says, "Should any one kill one of these beasts, if wilfully, death is the punishment; if by accident, he pays such fine as the priests choose to impose. But whoever kills an ibis or a hawk, whether wilfully or by accident, must necessarily be put to death."[77] According to the Chinese penal code, "whoever destroys or damages, whether intentionally or inadvertently, the altars, mounds, or terraces consecrated to the sacred and imperial rites, shall suffer 100 blows, and be perpetually banished to distance {228} of 2000 lee."[78] In these cases the punishment inflicted by human hands is obviously a reflection of the supposed anger of superhuman beings.

[Footnote 77: Herodotus, ii. 65. Cf. Pomponius Mela, 9.]

[Footnote 78: Ta Tsing Leu Lee, sec. clviii. p. 172.]

The Shintoist prays for forgiveness of errors which he has committed unknowingly.[79] According to the Vedic hymns, whoever with or without intention offends against the eternal ordinances of Varuna, the All-knowing and Sinless, arouses his anger, and is bound with the bonds of the god--with calamity, sickness, and death.[80] Forgiveness is besought of Varuna for sins that have been committed in unconsciousness;[81] even sleep occasions sin.[82] The singer Vasishtha is filled with pious grief, because daily against his will and without knowledge he offends the god and in ignorance violates his decree.[83] "All sages," say the Laws of Manu, "prescribe a penance for a sin unintentionally committed"; such a sin "is expiated by the recitation of Vedic texts, but that which men in their folly commit intentionally, by various special penances."[84] Among the present Hindus, "even in cases of accidental drinking of spirits through ignorance on the part of any of the three twice-born classes, nothing short of a repetition of the initial sacramentary rites, effecting a complete regeneration, is held sufficient to purge the sin."[85]

[Footnote 79: Selenka, Sonnige Welten, p. 210 sq.]

[Footnote 80: Cf. Kaegi, Rigveda, p. 66 sq.; Oldenberg, Die Religion des Veda, p. 289.]

[Footnote 81: Rig-Veda, v. 85. 8.]

[Footnote 82: Ibid. vii. 86. 6; x. 164. 3.]

[Footnote 83: Ibid. vii. 88. 6. Cf. Kaegi, op. cit. p. 68.]

[Footnote 84: Laws of Manu, xi. 45 sq. Cf. Vasishtha, 20.]

[Footnote 85: Rájendralála Mitra, Indo-Aryans, i. 393.]

In the Greek literature there are several instances of guilt being attached to the accidental transgression of some sacred law, the transgressor being perfectly unaware of the nature of his deed. Oedipus is the most famous example of this. Actaeon is punished for having seen Diana. Pausanias, the Spartan king, made sacrifice to Zeus Phyxius, to atone for the death of the maiden whom he had slain by misfortune.[86]

[Footnote 86: Farnell, op. cit. i. 72.]

The Babylonian psalmist, assuming that one of the {229} gods is angry with him because he is suffering pain, exclaims:--"The sin which I committed I know not. The transgression I committed I know not. The affliction which was my food--I know it not. The evil which trampled me down--I know it not. The lord in the wrath of his heart has regarded me; the god in the fierceness of his heart has punished me."[87] In another psalm it is said:--"He knows not his sin against the god, he knows not his transgression against the god and the goddess. Yet the god has smitten, the goddess has departed from him."[88]

[Footnote 87: Zimmern, Babylonische Busspsalmen, p. 63.]

[Footnote 88: Sayce, Hibbert Lectures on the Religion of the Ancient Babylonians, p. 505. Cf. Mürdter-Delitzsch, Geschichte Babyloniens und Assyriens, p. 38.]

So, also, the Hebrew psalmist cries out, "Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults."[89] Unintentional error, as Mr. Montefiore observes, would be as liable to incur divine punishment as the most voluntary crime, if it infringed the tolerably wide province in which the right or sanctity of Yahveh was involved.[90] Whilst a deliberate moral iniquity was punished under the penal law, a sin committed "through ignorance, in the holy things of the Lord," required a sin- or trespass-offering for its expiation.[91] Speaking of the developed sacrificial system of the Jews, Professor Moore remarks, "The general rule in the Mishna is that any transgression the penalty of which, if wilful, would be that the offender be cut off, requires, if committed in ignorance or through inadvertence, a [h.]a[t.][t.][=a]th [or sin-offering]; the catalogue of these transgressions ranges from incest and idolatry to eating the (internal) fat of animals and imitating the composition of the sacred incense, but does not include the commonest offences against morals."[92] The Rabbis also maintained that a false oath, even if made unconsciously, involves man in sin, and is punished as such.[93] {230} We meet with a similar opinion in mediæval Christianity. The principle laid down by St. Augustine,[94] and adopted by Canon Law,[95] that "ream linguam non facit, nisi mens rea," was not always acted upon. Various penitentials condemned to penance a person who, in giving evidence, swore to the best of his belief, in case his statement afterwards proved untrue.[96] In other cases, also, the Church prescribed penances for mere misfortunes. If a person killed another by pure accident, he had to do penance--in ordinary cases, according to most English penitentials, for one year,[97] according to various continental penitentials, for five[98] or seven[99] years; whereas, according to the Penitential of Pseudo-Theodore, he who accidentally killed his father or mother was to atone his deed with a penance of fifteen years,[100] and he who accidentally killed his son with a penance of twelve.[101] The Scotists even expressly declared that the external deed has a moral value of its own, which increases the goodness or badness of the agent's intention; and though this doctrine was opposed by Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventura, Suarez, and other leading theologians, it was nevertheless admitted by them that, according to the will of God, certain external deeds entail a certain accidental reward, the so-called aureola.[102] In some cases the secular law, also, punishes misadventure on religious grounds. Thus the Salic law treated with great severity any person who accidentally put fire to a church, although it imposed no penalty on other cases of {231} unintentional incendiary;[103] and even to this day the Russian criminal law prescribes penitence for homicide by misadventure, "in order to quiet the conscience of the culprit."[104] According to the Koran, he who kills a believer by mistake shall expiate his deed, not only by paying blood-money to the family of the dead (unless they remit it), but by setting free a believing slave; and as to him who cannot find the means, "let him fast for two consecutive months--a penance this from God."[105]

[Footnote 89: Psalms, xix. 12.]

[Footnote 90: Montefiore, Hibbert Lectures on the Religion of the Ancient Hebrews, p. 103. Cf. ibid. p. 515 sq.]

[Footnote 91: Leviticus, iv. 22 sqq.; v. 15 sqq. Numbers, xv. 24 sqq.]

[Footnote 92: Moore, 'Sacrifice,' in Cheyne and Black, Encyclopædia Biblica, iv. 4205.]

[Footnote 93: Montefiore, op. cit. p. 558.]

[Footnote 94: St. Augustine, Sermones, clxxx. 2 (Migne, Patrologiæ cursus, xxxviii. 973).]

[Footnote 95: Gratian, Decretum, ii. 22. 2. 3.]

[Footnote 96: P[oe]nitentiale Bedæ, v. 3 (Wasserschleben, Bussordnungen der abendländischen Kirche, p. 226). P[oe]nit. Egberti, vi. 3 (ibid. p. 238). P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori, xxiv. 5 (ibid. p. 593).]

[Footnote 97: P[oe]nit. Theodori, i. 4. 7 (ibid. p. 188). P[oe]nit. Bedæ, iv. 5 (ibid. p. 225). P[oe]nit. Egberti, iv. 11 (ibid. p. 235). According to P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori, xxi. 2 (ibid. p. 586), the penance was to last for five years.]

[Footnote 98: P[oe]nit. Hubertense, 2 (ibid. p. 377). P[oe]nit. Merseburgense, 2 (ibid. p. 391). P[oe]nit. Bobiense, 4 (ibid. p. 408). P[oe]nit. Vindobonense, 2 (ibid. p. 418). P[oe]nit. Cummeani, vi. 2 (ibid. p. 478). P[oe]nit. XXXV. Capitulornm, 1 (ibid. p. 506). P[oe]nit. Vigilanum, 27 (ibid. p. 529).]

[Footnote 99: P[oe]nit. Parisiense, 1 (ibid. p. 412). P[oe]nit. Floriacense, 2 (ibid. p. 424).]

[Footnote 100: P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori, xxi. 18 (ibid. p. 588).]

[Footnote 101: P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori, xxi. 19 (ibid. 588).]

[Footnote 102: Göpfert, Moraltheologie, i. 185.]

[Footnote 103: Lex Salica (Harold's text), 71. Brunner, Forschungen, p. 507, n. 1.]

[Footnote 104: Foinitzki, in Le droit criminel des états européens, edited by von Liszt, p. 531.]

[Footnote 105: Koran, iv. 94.]

How shall we explain all these facts? Do they faithfully represent ideas of moral responsibility? Do they indicate that, at the earlier stages of civilisation, the outward event as such, irrespectively of the will of the agent, is an object of moral blame?

Most of the statements which imply a perfect absence of discrimination between accident and intention, refer to the system of private redress. Under this system a personal injury is regarded as a matter which the injured party or his kin have to settle for themselves. It certainly does not allow them to treat the offender just as they please; as we have seen, it is more or less regulated by custom. But at the same time it makes considerable allowance for the personal feelings of the sufferer, and these feelings are apt to be neither impartial nor sufficiently discriminate. Whether, in a savage community, public opinion prescribes, or merely permits, revenge in cases of accidental injury, is a question which the ordinary observations of travellers leave unanswered. It is important to note that one of the first steps which early custom or law took towards a restriction of the blood-feud was to save the life of the involuntary manslayer. Moreover, in many cases where the system of revenge has been succeeded by punishment, the injured party may still have a voice in the matter. In Abyssinia, for instance, "a life for a life is the sentence passed upon the murderer; but, obtaining {232} the consent of the relatives of the deceased, he is authorised by law to purchase his pardon."[106] According to ancient Swedish law, an injury could not be treated as accidental unless the injured party acknowledged it as such.[107] In England, even in the days of Henry III., the king could not protect the manslayer from the suit of the dead man's kin, although he had granted him pardon on the score of misadventure.[108] Indeed, so recently as 1741, a royal order was made for a hanging in chains "on the petition of the relations of the deceased."[109] And to this day English criminal courts, when dealing with some slight offence, mitigate the punishment "because the prosecutor does not press the case," or even give him leave to settle the matter and withdraw the prosecution.[110]

[Footnote 106: Harris, Highlands of Æthiopia, ii, p. 94.]

[Footnote 107: von Amira, Nordgermanische Obligationenrecht, i. 382.]

[Footnote 108: Three Early Assize Rolls for the County of Northumberland, sæc. XIII, p. 98.]

[Footnote 109: Amos, Ruins of Time, p. 23.]

[Footnote 110: Kenny, Outlines of Criminal Law, p. 23.]

In the case of accidental homicide, deference may also have to be shown for the supposed feelings of the dead man's ghost, which, angry and bloodless, is craving for revenge and thirsting for blood. To leave its desires ungratified would be both dangerous and unmerciful. That this has something to do with the rigid demand of life for life in the case of homicide by misadventure seems all the more likely as in some instances when the involuntary manslayer is pardoned, other blood is to be shed instead of his. Among the Yao and Wayisa, near Lake Nyassa, it is the custom "by way of propitiation to give up a slave or some relative of the criminal's, to 'go along with the one who was slain,' and this seems to be invariably done when one is killed by accident, in which case the slayer may escape, the deputy taking as it were his place."[111] We may assume that a similar idea underlies the ancient Roman law which provided a ram to be sacrificed in the place of the involuntary manslayer.

[Footnote 111: Macdonald, in Jour. Anthr. Inst. xii. 108.]

But the dead man's ghost not only persecutes his own family if **neglectful of their duty, it also attacks the manslayer {233} and cleaves to him like a miasma. The manslayer is consequently regarded as unclean, and has, both for his own sake and for the sake of the community in which he lives, to undergo some ceremony of purification in order to rid himself of the dangerous and infectious pollution. This notion will be illustrated in a following chapter. In the present connection I merely desire to point out that the pollution is there, whether the shedding of blood was intentional or accidental. And, as will be shown, though this state of uncleanness does not intrinsically involve guilt, it easily becomes a cause of moral disapproval, whilst the ceremony of purification is apt to be looked upon in the light of punishment. We shall also find that the notion of a persecuting ghost may be replaced by the notion of an avenging god, it being a fact of common occurrence that the doings or functions of one mysterious being are transferred to another. We shall, finally, see that the infection of uncleanness is shunned by gods even more than it is shunned by men; and this largely helps to explain the attitude of religion towards unintentional and unforeseen shedding of human blood.

There are other, more general reasons for the want of discrimination often displayed by religion in regard to the accidental transgression of a religious law. When a thing is taboo in the strict sense of the word, it is supposed to be charged with mysterious energy which will injure or destroy the person who eats or touches the forbidden thing, whether he does so wilfully or by mistake. As Professor Jevons correctly observes, "the action of taboo is always mechanical; contact with the tabooed object communicates the taboo infection as certainly as contact with water communicates moisture. . . . The intentions of the taboo-breaker have no effect upon the action of the taboo; he may touch in ignorance, or for the benefit of the person he touches, but he is tabooed as surely as if his motive were irreverent or his action hostile."[112] So, also, according to primitive notions, the effect of a curse or an {234} oath is purely mechanical; hence a person who swears falsely in ignorance exposes himself to no less danger than a person who perjures himself knowingly. As regards religious offences in the strictest sense of the term--that is, offences against some god which are supposed to arouse his resentment--it should be remembered that, just as a man who is hurt is unable to judge on the matter as coolly as does the community at large, so a god whose ordinances are transgressed is thought to be less discriminating in his anger than a disinterested human judge, and, consequently, more apt to be influenced by the external event. And where nearly every calamity is regarded as a divine punishment, a person who is suffering without knowing what sin he has committed, naturally infers that a god is punishing him for some secret fault.

[Footnote 112: Jevons, Introduction to the History of Religion, p. 91.]

Thus it may be that, in the point which we are discussing, as in various other respects, the religious beliefs of a people do not faithfully represent their general notions of moral responsibility. It is profoundly wrong to assume, from the legend of Oedipus and other similar cases, that the ancient Greeks, in general, held a person "equally responsible for an accident which occurs to him, and for an act of which the agent is aware." Even the transgression of a sacred law, when committed in ignorance, seems to have excited pitiful horror rather than moral indignation. Oedipus had killed his father in self-defence, and married his mother, perfectly ignorant of his relation to them. The gods punished the Thebans with pestilence for harbouring such a wretch on their soil. But when "time that sees all, found him out in his unwitting sin," it was not blame, but terror and deep compassion for the unhappy man that, according to the tragedian,[113] spoke from the lips of the people. Moreover, in the latter tragedy Oedipus persistently vindicates his innocence:--"Whatever I have done was done unwittingly"--"Before the law I have no guilt." And, addressing himself to Creon, who has accused him of parricide and incest, he {235} exclaims:--"O shameless soul, where, thinkest thou, falls this thy taunt,--on my age, or on thine own? Bloodshed--incest --misery--all this thy lips have launched against me,--all this that I have borne, woe is me! by no choice of mine: for such was the pleasure of the gods, wroth, haply, with the race from of old. . . Tell me, now, --if, by voice of oracle, some divine doom was coming on my sire, that he should die by a son's hand, how couldst thou justly reproach me therewith, who was then unborn, whom no sire had yet begotten, no mother's womb conceived? And if, when born to woe--as I was born--I met my sire in strife, and slew him, all ignorant what I was doing, and to whom,--how couldst thou justly blame the unknowing deed?[114] Never was a more pathetic appeal made to the court of Justice from the indiscriminate verdict of angry gods.

[Footnote 113: Sophocles, [OE]dipus Tyrannus.]

[Footnote 114: Idem, [OE]dipus Coloneus, 960 sqq. (Jebb's translation, p. 155).]

Whilst the grossest want of discrimination may thus be explained from revengeful feelings and superstitious beliefs, there still remain a multitude of cases which must be regarded as genuine expressions of moral indignation. As to these, it should, first, be remembered that even the reflecting moral consciousness may hold a person blamable for the unintentional and unforeseen infliction of an injury, namely, in cases where it assumes want of proper foresight. Now, as we know, it is often difficult enough to discern whether, or to what extent, an unintended injury is due to carelessness on the part of the agent; sometimes even it is no easy thing to tell whether an injury was intended or not. It is not to be expected, then, that distinctions of so subtle a nature should be properly made by the uncultured mind, and least of all is it to be expected that such distinctions should be embodied in early custom and law, which are based on average cases and allow of no minute individualisation. It has been observed that the roughness of Teutonic justice may be partly explained from the difficulty in getting any proof of intention or of its absence, from the lack of any proper distinctions between {236} misadventure and carelessness, and from the fact that the so-called misadventures of early times covered many a blameworthy act.[115] And all this holds good not merely of the ancient Teutons. It may further be said that the more defective the power of discrimination, the greater is the tendency to presume guilt. In Morocco a man who runs away after killing another is presumed to have committed the deed intentionally, however innocent he really may be. Among the Teutons the presumption was always against the manslayer; he had to proclaim what he had done, and to prove that the deed was not intended[116]--unless, indeed, the misadventure belonged to a certain type of injuries which by their very nature entailed no guilt. For instance, if a man carried a spear level on his shoulder and another ran upon the point, he was free from blame; whereas, if harm ensued by pure accident from a distinct act, the agent was liable.[117] As von Amira remarks, the Swedish notion of vadhaværk was not a merely negative conception, but implied that there was danger connected with the act.[118]

[Footnote 115: Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. i. 55; ii. 475, 483. von Amira, Nordgermanisches Obligationenrecht, i. 377 sq.]

[Footnote 116: Wilda, op. cit. i. 345. Brunner, Forschungen, p. 500 sq. Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. ii. 471.]

[Footnote 117: Wilda, op. cit. p. 584. Trummer, op. cit. i. 427. Brunner, Forschungen, p. 499 sq. von Amira, 'Recht,' in Paul's Grundriss der germanischen Philologie, ii. pt. ii. 172. Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. i. 53 sq.]

[Footnote 118: von Amira, Nordgermanisches Obligationenrecht, i. 377.]

Where the distinction between guilt and innocence is difficult to draw, it may be wise policy to presume guilt. According to Sir R. Burton, the Mpongwe jurists say that little or no difference is generally made between wilful murder and accidental manslaughter in order that people should be more careful;[119] and a similar idea may lie at the bottom of the Dahoman law which punishes capitally any person whose house takes fire, even if it happens accidentally.[120] But the presumption of guilt is not only, nor in the first place, owing to considerations of social utility, combined with a reckless indifference to undeserved suffering. {237} The unreflecting mind is shocked by the harm done, and cares little for the rest. It does not press the question whether the harm was caused by the agent's will or not. It does not make any serious attempt to separate the external event from the will, and it is inclined to assume that there is a coincidence between the two. This is not altogether bad psychology since, as a rule, men will what they do. "Le fait juge l'homme," says an old French proverb; and in morals, also, "the tree is known by the fruit." However, there are cases of injuries in which not even uncivilised men can fail to discover, at once, the absence of any evil intention. This certainly does not mean that the injurer escapes all censure. Every feeling of pain, sympathetic pain included, which is caused by a living being, has a certain tendency to give rise to an aggressive impulse towards its cause; hence savages, even though they distinguish between intentional and unintentional harm, are inclined to impute some degree of guilt to any person who involuntarily commits a forbidden deed, though he be in reality quite innocent. But the reason for this is only want of due reflection. If it is clearly understood that a certain event is the result of merely external circumstances, that it was neither intended by the agent nor could have been foreseen by him, in other words, that it in no way was caused by his will--then there could be no moral indignation at all. It would be simply absurd to suppose that an outward event as such, assumed to be absolutely unconnected with any defect of will, could ever give rise to moral blame. Such an event could not even call forth a feeling of revenge. Sudden anger itself cools down when it appears that the cause of the inflicted pain was a mere accident. Even a dog, as has been observed, distinguishes between being stumbled over and being kicked.

[Footnote 119: Burton, Two Trips to Gorilla Land, i. 105.]

[Footnote 120: Ellis, E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast, p. 224.]

That the indiscriminate attitude of early custom and law towards accidental injuries does not imply any difference in principle between the enlightened and unenlightened moral consciousness as regards the subject of moral valuation, {238} becomes perfectly obvious when we consider what a great influence the outward event exercises upon moral estimates even among ourselves. "The world judges by the event, and not by the design," says Adam Smith. "Everybody agrees to the general maxim, that as the event does not depend on the agent, it ought to have no influence upon our sentiments, with regard to the merit or propriety of his conduct. But when we come to particulars, we find that our sentiments are scarce in any one instance exactly conformable to what this equitable maxim would direct."[121] Even in the criminal laws of civilised nations chance still plays a prominent part. According to the present law of England, though a person is not criminally liable for the involuntary and unforeseen consequences of acts which are themselves permissible, the case is different if he commits an act which is wrong and criminal,[122] or, as it seems, even if he commits an act which is wrong without being forbidden by law.[123] Thus death caused unintentionally is regarded as murder, if it takes place within a year and a day[124] as the result of an unlawful act which amounts to a felony.[125] For instance, a person kills another accidentally by shooting at a domestic fowl with intent to steal it, and he will probably be convicted of murder.[126] Again, a near-sighted man drives at a rapid rate, sitting at the bottom of his cart, and thereby causes the death of a foot-passenger; he is guilty of manslaughter.[127] A man recklessly and wantonly throws a lighted match into a haystack, careless whether it take fire or not, and so burns down the stack; his crime is arson. But if he did not intend to throw the lighted match on the haystack, he would probably not be guilty of any offence at all, "unless death was caused, in which case he would be guilty of manslaughter."[128] Even if the unintended death is to some {239} extent owing to the negligence of the injured party himself, it may be laid to the charge of the injurer. This at all events was the law in Hale's time, "If a man," he says, "receives a wound, which is not in itself mortal, but either for want of helpful applications, or neglect thereof, it turns to a gangrene, or a fever, and that gangrene or fever be the immediate cause of his death, yet, this is murder or manslaughter in him that gave the stroke or wound."[129] So far as I know, the severity of the English law on unintentional homicide--which, in fact, is a survival of ancient Teutonic law[130]--is without a parallel in the European legislation of the present day. Both the French[131] and the German[132] laws are much less severe; and so is the Ottoman Penal Code,[133] and Muhammedan law in general.[134] Yet the unintended deadly consequence of a criminal act always affects the punishment more or less.

[Footnote 121: Adam Smith, Theory of Moral Sentiments, p. 152.]

[Footnote 122: According to Harris (Principles of the Criminal Law, p. 156), the act should be a malum in se, not merely a malum quia prohibitum.]

[Footnote 123: Kenny, op. cit. p. 41.]

[Footnote 124: Stephen, History of the Criminal Law of England, iii. 8.]

[Footnote 125: Ibid. iii. 22.]

[Footnote 126: Ibid. iii. 83.]

[Footnote 127: Harris, op. cit. p. 157.]

[Footnote 128: Stephen, op. cit. ii. 113.]

[Footnote 129: Hale, History of the Pleas of the Crown, i. 428.]

[Footnote 130: Lex Wisigothorum, vi. 5. 6: "Si dum quis calce, vel pugno, aut quacumque percussione injuriam conatur inferre, homicidii extiterit occasio, pro homicidio puniatur."]

[Footnote 131: Code Pénal, art. 309.]

[Footnote 132: Strafgesetzbuch, art. 226.]

[Footnote 133: Ottoman Penal Code, art. 177. Cf. ibid. art. 174.]

[Footnote 134: Sachau, op. cit. p. 761 sq.]

I presume that nobody after due deliberation would maintain that the moral guilt of the offender is enhanced by the death of him whom he involuntarily happened to kill. Sir James Stephen, nevertheless, makes an attempt to defend, from a moral point of view, the severe English law on the subject, which he thinks "is much to be preferred to the law of France." He asks, "Is there anything to choose morally between the man who violently stabs another in the chest with the definite intention of killing him, and a man who stabs another in the chest with no definite intention at all as to the victim's life or death, but with a feeling of indifference whether he lives or dies?"[135] Perhaps not. But I venture to maintain that there is a considerable moral difference between the man who shoots at another with the definite intention of killing him, and the man who, firing at another's chickens, with the intention of stealing them, accidentally kills the owner whom {240} he does not see. It will perhaps be argued that the law has a utilitarian purpose, its object being to make people more careful. But if this were the case one would expect that the law should punish with equal severity acts which involve the same degree of danger, and which result in similar injuries. To fire at a sparrow may be as dangerous to people's lives as to fire at another person's chicken, and, in the latter case, the danger is hardly increased by the intention to steal the chicken. I take the truth to be this. The degree of punishment corresponds to the degree of indignation aroused by the deed. Public imagination is shocked by the actual event. The agent, being guilty either of criminal intention, or of gross disregard of other people's interests, or of criminal heedlessness, is a proper object of punishment. Owing to that want of discrimination which characterises the popular mind, his guilt is exaggerated on account of the grave consequences of his act; and the result is that he is punished not only for the fault of his will, but for his bad luck as well. Sir James Stephen seems to admit this, when saying that the shock which the offence gives to the public feeling requires that the offender should himself suffer "a full equivalent for what he has inflicted," from which "he ought to be excused only on grounds capable of being understood by the commonest and most vulgar minds."[136] Though thoroughly dissenting from the opinion that criminal law should try to gratify the feelings of "the commonest and most vulgar minds," I think that, as a matter of fact, it is not much above their standard of justice, being in the main an expression of public sentiments.

[Footnote 135: Stephen, op. cit. iii. 91 sq.]

[Footnote 136: Ibid. iii. 91.]

* * * * *

In the cases which we have hitherto considered the external event which a person brings about involuntarily, either makes him liable to punishment though he really is free from guilt, or increases his punishment beyond the limits of his guilt. But the influence of chance also shows {241} itself in the opposite way. A person who is guilty of carelessness generally escapes all punishment if no injurious result follows, and an unsuccessful attempt to commit a criminal act, if punished at all, is, as a rule, punished much less severely than the accomplished act.

The Hottentots nowadays punish attempt, but only leniently.[137] The Wadshagga punish it less severely than the accomplished act.[138] Among some of the Marshall Islanders it is not punished at all.[139] The same holds good of the Ossetes[140] and Swanetians[141] of the Caucasus, as also of ancient Russian law.[142] The Teutons, as a general rule, had no punishment for him who tried to do harm, but failed; and if they did punish an unsuccessful attempt, the penalty was out of proportion lenient.[143] This feature of ancient Teutonic law has had a lasting effect upon European legislation, largely through the influence it exercised upon the Italian jurists of the Middle Ages,[144] whose theories laid the foundation of modern laws and doctrines on attempt. In conformity with the Roman law, they held attempts to commit crimes to be punishable, and in atrocious cases they even admitted that the attempt might be subject to the same punishment as the accomplished crime. But their general theory was that it should be punished less severely, and that the penalty should be lenient in proportion as the actual deed was remote from the act intended.[145] These views were generally adopted by the later legislation. Among present European lawbooks, the French Code Pénal[146] is almost the only one that punishes an attempt {242} with the same severity as the finished crime.[147] And the French law on the subject is of modern origin; before the year IV. the present rule was applied only to the conatus proximus in a few specified cases of a very heinous character.[148]

[Footnote 137: Kohler, in Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss. xv. 353.]

[Footnote 138: Merker, quoted by Kohler, ibid. xv. 63.]

[Footnote 139: Kohler, ibid. xiv. 418.]

[Footnote 140: Kovalewsky, Coutume contemporaine, p. 296 sq.]

[Footnote 141: Dareste, Nouvelles études d'histoire du droit, p. 237.]

[Footnote 142: Kovalewsky, op. cit. pp. 291, 299.]

[Footnote 143: Wilda, op. cit. p. 598 sqq. Zachariä, Die Lehre vom Versuche der Verbrechen, i. 164 sqq.; ii. 130 sq. Brunner, Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte, ii. 558 sqq. Pollock and Maitland, ii. 475, 509.]

[Footnote 144: Seeger, Versuch der Verbrechen in der Wissenschaft des Mittelalters, p. 8.]

[Footnote 145: Zachariä, op. cit. i. 169; ii. 141. von Feuerbach-Mittermaier, Lehrbuch des Peinlichen Rechts, p. 74.]

[Footnote 146: Code Pénal, art. 2: "Toute tentative de crime qui aura été manifestée par un commencement d'exécution, si elle n'a été suspendue ou si elle n'a manqué son effet que par des circonstances indépendantes de la volonté de son auteur, est considérée comme le crime même."]

[Footnote 147: Chauveau and Hélie, Théorie du Code Pénal, i. 347 sq.]

[Footnote 148: Ibid. i. 337 sq.]

Besides the provision of the Code Pénal concerning attempt, there are a few other exceptions, of an earlier date, to the general rule. The Romans seemed to have followed the principle "dolus pro facto accipitur,"[149] at least if the crime attempted was a serious one.[150] A somewhat similar line was adopted by ancient Irish law. The general impression produced by the rules in the commentary to the Book of Aicill is, that the attempt to commit an injurious act was treated as equivalent to its commission, unless the result was very insignificant. Thus, if an attempt was made to slay, or to inflict an injury which would endure for life, and blood was shed, the fine was the same as if the attempt had succeeded; whereas, if the injury did not amount to the shedding of blood, the fine was reduced one-half.[151] And if a man went to kill one person and killed another by mistake, a fine for the intention, in addition to the fine due to the friends of the murdered man, was due to him whose death was intended, even though no injury was actually done to him.[152] In England, at the end of the Middle Ages, the will was taken for the deed in cases of obvious attempts to murder; but this rule appears to have been considered too severe--even in an age when death was the common punishment for felony--and to have fallen into disuse several centuries ago.[153]

[Footnote 149: Digesta, xlviii. 8. 7.]

[Footnote 150: Seeger, Versuch der Verbrechen nach römischcm Recht, pp. 1, 2, 49. Idem, Versuch der Verbrechen in der Wissenschaft des Mittelalters, p. 9. Mommsen, Römisches Strafrecht, p. 97 sq. Apuleius, Florida, iv. 20:--"In maleficiis etiam cogitata scelera non perfecta adhuc vindicantur, cruenta mente, pura manu. Ergo sicut ad poenam sufficit meditari punienda."]

[Footnote 151: Ancient Laws of Ireland, iii. pp. cviii. sq. 139.]

[Footnote 152: Cherry, Growth of Criminal Law in Ancient Communities, p. 32.]

[Footnote 153: Stephen, op. cit. ii. 222 sq. Thomas Smith, Common-wealth of England, p. 194 sq.]

{243} The question, which attempts should be punished, and even the elementary question, what constitutes an attempt, have been answered differently by different jurists and legislators.[154] In England all attempts whatever to commit indictable offences, whether felonies or misdemeanours, are punishable by law.[155] The French[156] and German[157] codes, on the other hand, do not punish, except in a few particular cases, attempts to commit délits or Verbrechen, that is, what the English jurists would describe as misdemeanours.

[Footnote 154: See Cohn, Zur Lehre vom versuchten und unvollendeten Verbrechen, i. 6 sqq.]

[Footnote 155: Stephen, op. cit. ii. 224.]

[Footnote 156: Code Pénal art. 3.]

[Footnote 157: Strafgesetzbuch, art. 43.]

Again, should a person be punished for attempting to commit a crime in a manner in which success is physically impossible, as if he attempts to steal from a pocket which is empty, or puts into a cup pounded sugar which he believes to be arsenic? This question has given rise to a whole literature. Seneca's statement that "he who mixes a sleeping draught, believing it to be poison, is a poisoner,"[158] seems to have had the support of Roman law.[159] In England, some time ago, the man who attempted to pick an empty pocket, was not held liable for an attempt to steal;[160] but this case has been overruled, and it appears now to be the law that an indictment would lie for such an attempt.[161] According to the French[162] and Italian[163] codes, it would not be punished, according to some German law-books, it would;[164] whilst the Strafgesetzbuch contains no special provisions for attempts of a similar character.

[Footnote 158: Seneca, De beneficiis, v. 13. Cf. Idem, Ad Serenum, 7.]

[Footnote 159: Seeger, Versuch nach römischem Recht, p. 30.]

[Footnote 160: Stephen, op. cit. ii. 225.]

[Footnote 161: Harris, Principles of the Criminal Law, p. 209 n. c.]

[Footnote 162: Stephen, op. cit. ii. 225.]

[Footnote 163: Alimena, in Le droit criminel des états européens, ed. by von Liszt, p. 123.]

[Footnote 164: von Feuerbach-Mittermaier, op. cit. p. 76. Cohn, op. cit. i. 14.]

Finally there are different rules as to the stage at which an attempt begins to be criminal, or as to the distinction between attempts and acts of preparation. The Romans, it is supposed, drew no such distinction.[165] The French law regards as permissible acts of preparation many {244} things which in England would be punished as attempts.[166] In England lighting a match with intent to set fire to a haystack has been held to amount to a criminal attempt to burn it, although the defendant blew out the match on seeing that he was watched. But it was said in the same case that, if he had gone no further than to buy a box of matches for the purpose, he would not have been liable, the act being too remote from the offence to be criminal.[167] "Liability will not begin until the offender has done some act which not only manifests his mens rea but also goes some way towards carrying it out."[168]

[Footnote 165: Seeger, Versuch nach römischem Recht, p. 49.]

[Footnote 166: Chauveau and Hélie, op. cit. i. 357 sqq. Stephen, op. cit. ii. 226.]

[Footnote 167: Holmes, Common Law. p. 67 sq.]

[Footnote 168: Kenny, op. cit. p. 79.]

If we go a step further, we come to designs unaccompanied by any attempt whatever to realise them. The laws of all countries agree as to the principle that an outward event is requisite for the infliction of punishment. "Cogitationis p[oe]nam nemo patitur."[169]

[Footnote 169: Digesta, xlviii. 19. 18.]

This fact again illustrates the influence which external deeds exercise upon the moral feelings of men. In the average man moral emotions are hardly ever called into existence by calm and penetrating reflection. There are certain phenomena which for some reason or other are apt to arouse in him such emotions, but he does not seek for them. They must force themselves upon his mind, and the more vigorously they do so, the stronger are the emotions they excite. Nothing makes a greater impression on him than facts which are perceptible by the senses. He will admit that an intention, or even a mere wish, to do something wrong is wrong by itself, but an outward event is generally needed for shaking him up. This, I think, is the original reason why persons have not been punished for intentions unaccompanied by external deeds. No doubt, the principle that "the thought of man shall not be tried," is strongly supported by the fact that, as a mediæval writer puts it, "the devil himself knoweth not the thought of man."[170] But considering how ready people {245} have been to presume guilt in cases of unintentional injuries, it seems very incredible that they originally refrained from punishing bare intentions merely on account of insufficient evidence. Indeed, as an exception to the rule, in a few cases when the crime designed is regarded with extreme horror, the very intention may give such a shock to public imagination as to call for punishment.

[Footnote 170: Quoted by Pollock and Maitland, op. cit. ii. 474.]

According to Chinese law, "any person convicted of a design to kill his or her father or mother, grandfather or grandmother, whether by the father's or mother's side; and any woman convicted of a design to kill her husband, husband's father or mother, grandfather or grandmother, shall, whether a blow is, or is not struck in consequence, suffer death by being beheaded."[171] This exceptional law obviously owes its origin to the extreme reverence in which parents and ancestors are held by the Chinese, and to the wife's subjection to her husband. In mediæval laws referring to heresy we have another instance of punishment being inflicted for a mere state of mind without any corresponding act. According to Julius Clarus, this exception to the rule is due to the fact that the crime of heresy itself consists in "sola mentis cogitatione."[172] But the real reason why the law in this case troubled itself about men's thoughts, and even allowed them to be put on their trial for their tacit opinions on bare suspicion, is the detestation in which heresy was held and the extreme attention it attracted. By all this, of course, I do not mean to deny that a judicious and enlightened legislator may find other grounds for taking no notice of mere intentions than their inability to arouse public indignation. I only speak of matters of fact.

[Footnote 171: Ta Tsing Leu Lee, sec. cclxxxiv. p. 305.]

[Footnote 172: Julius Clarus, Practica Criminalis, qu. 91 (Opera omnia, ii. 625).]

Again, as regards acts of preparation and many cases of unsuccessful attempts, it may be said that the agent perhaps would have altered his mind before he came to the point, or that the failure of his attempt was possibly due {246} to a change of intention in the last moment.[173] But there are innumerable cases in which the attempt, with no less certainty than the accomplished crime, displays a criminal intention which is final. And it is particularly instructive to note that, among the very peoples who treat unintentional injuries with the greatest severity, unsuccessful attempts are treated with the greatest leniency. This is well illustrated by a comparison between Teutonic and Roman law; in either case the former chiefly looks at the event, the latter chiefly at the intention of the agent. If there is no punishment for a bare attempt to commit a crime, that is because such an attempt makes no impression on the public. If an attempt is punished more heavily according as it is more advanced, that is because it calls forth greater indignation in proportion as it comes near to the crime intended. And if even the conatus proximus is punished with less severity than the accomplished crime, that is because the indignation it evokes is less. This explanation is corroborated by concessions made by theorisers who have in vain endeavoured to find more rational grounds for existing laws on attempt. They have ultimately found it necessary to resort to phrases such as "the natural sense of justice," or to appeal to the feelings of the multitude.[174] {247} M. Rossi observes, "Nous pensons que le sens commun et la conscience publique ont constamment tenu le même langage. 'Le délit n'a pas été consommé, donc la punition doit être moindre.' Cette idée de proportion matérielle, ce sentiment de justice, grossière j'en conviens, est naturel à l'homme."[175] This is the view taken by the unreflecting moral consciousness. To him whose feelings are tempered by thought, "a man," as Seneca says, "is no less a brigand, because his sword becomes entangled in his victim's clothes, and misses its mark."[176]

[Footnote 173: As a rule, the man who voluntarily desists from the attempt to commit a crime would not be punished at all (see Seeger, Versuch nach römischem Recht, p. 50; Charles V.'s Peinliche Gerichts Ordnung, art. 178; the French Code Pénal, art. 2; the Italian Codice Penale, art. 61; Finger, Compendium des österreichischen Rechtes--Strafrecht, i. 181; and, for various German laws, Zachariä, op. cit. ii. 311 sq., and Cohn, op. cit. i. 12 sq.), or he would be punished more leniently than if there had been no such desistance (Zachariä, ii. 239, sqq. Cohn, i. 12 sq.). On this subject see also Herzog, Rücktritt vom Versuch und Thätige Reue, passim.]

[Footnote 174: Lelièvre, De conatu delinquendi, p. 361 (quoted by Zachariä, op. cit. ii. 66, n. 2): "Ceterum libenter fateor, me potius sentire aliquam necessitatem paululum levius in perfectum crimen ac in maleficium consummatum animadvertendi, quam reddere posse claram necessitates rationem." Abegg, Die verschiedenen Strafrechtstheorieen, p. 65: "Für uns folgt aber jene nothwendige Beobachtung der concreten Unterschiede, in dem Gebiete der Erscheinung, nach der aus dem Gerechtigkeitsprincipe abgeleiteten Regel, dass Jeder für seine That, und was er verdient habe, leiden solle." Zachariä, op. cit. ii. 51:--"So macht sich in dem natürlichen Gerechtigkeits-Gefühl des Einzelnen und des ganzen Volkes auch von selbst die Unterscheidung zwischen der Strafe des vollendeten und der des blos versuchten Verbrechens geltend. . . . Es kann freilich seyn, dass der grösste Theil der Menschen für ein solches natürliches Gefühl keine Gründe anzugeben vermag; allein das Strafrecht, welches ja gerade auf die grosse Menge zu wirken hat, kann dessenungeachtet solche unwillkürlich im Volke sich geltend machende Ansichten nicht unberücksichtigt lassen." Cf. also Finger, op. cit. i. 177.]

[Footnote 175: Rossi, Traité de droit pénal, ii, 318.]

[Footnote 176: Seneca, Ad Serenum, 7.]

* * * * *

In the same way as moral indignation, is moral approval influenced by external events. Though we would not praise a person for some deed of his which we clearly recognise to reflect no merit on his will, the benefits which result from a good act easily induce us to exaggerate the goodness of the agent. On the other hand, it is success alone that confers upon a man the full reward which he deserves; good intentions without corresponding deeds meet with little applause even when the failure is due to mere misfortune. "In our real feeling or sentiment," Hume observes, "we cannot help paying a greater regard to one whose station, joined to virtue, renders him really useful to society, than to one who exerts the social virtues only in good intentions and benevolent affections."

* * * * *

It is thus only from want of due reflection that moral judgments are influenced by outward deeds. Owing to its very nature, the moral consciousness, when sufficiently influenced by thought, regards the will as the only proper object of moral disapproval or moral praise. That moral qualities are internal, is not an invention of any particular moralist or any particular religion; it has been recognised by thoughtful men in many different countries and different {248} ages. "He that is pure in heart is the truest priest," said Buddha.[177] In the Taouist work, 'Kan ying peen,' it is written:--"If you form in your heart a good intention, although you may not have done any good, the good spirits follow you. If you form in your heart a bad intention, although you may not have done any harm, the evil spirits follow you."[178] According to the Thâi-Shang, mere wishes are sufficient to constitute badness.[179] One of the Pahlavi texts puts the following words into the mouth of the Spirit of Wisdom:--"To be grateful in the world, and to wish happiness for every one; this is greater and better than every good work."[180] God, says the Koran, "will not catch you up for a casual word in your oaths, but He will catch you up for what your hearts have earned."[181] According to the Rabbis, the thought of sin is worse than sin, and an unchaste thought is a "wicked thing."[182] It was an ancient Mexican maxim that "he who looks too curiously on a woman commits adultery with his eyes"[183]--a striking parallel to the passage in St. Matthew v. 28. "Voluntas remuneratur, non opus," says the Canonist. "Licet gladio non occidat, voluntate tamen interficit." "Non ideo minus delinquit, cui sola deest facultas."[184]

[Footnote 177: Hopkins, Religions of India, p. 319.]

[Footnote 178: Douglas, Confucianism and Taouism, p. 270.]

[Footnote 179: Thâi-Shang, 4.]

[Footnote 180: Dînâ-î-Maînôgî Khirad, lxiii. 3 sqq. Cf. ibid. i. 10, where it is said that the good work which a man does unwittingly is little of a good work, though the sin which a man commits unwittingly amounts to a sin in its origin.]

[Footnote 181: Koran, ii. 225. Cf. Ameer Ali, Ethics of Islâm, p. 26.]

[Footnote 182: Schechter, in Montefiore, op. cit. p. 558. Cf. Deutsch, Literary Remains, p. 52.]

[Footnote 183: Sahagun, Historia general de las cosas de Nueva España, vi. 22, vol. ii. 147: "Dice el refran que el que curiosamente mira á la muger adultéra con la vista."]

[Footnote 184: Gratian, Decretum, ii. 33. 3. 25, 30, 29.]