But to complete the system of rewards and punishments, it is necessary, that not only power, but also inclination, be conferred upon one, or upon many, to reward and to punish. The author of our nature has provided amply for the first, by intitling every individual to exercise that power as his native privilege. And he has equally provided for the other, by a noted principle implanted in our nature, prompting us to reward the virtuous, and to punish the vicious. Every act of duty is rewarded with our approbation: a benevolent act is rewarded with our esteem: a generous act commands our affection. These, and other virtuous actions, have a still reward; which is, the consciousness of merit in the author himself.
As to punishment, it would be inconsistent to punish any defect in benevolence, considered as a virtue left to our own free will. But an action done intentionally to produce mischief is criminal, and merits punishment: such an action being disagreeable, raises any resentment, even though I have no connection with the person injured; and being impelled, by the principle under consideration, to punish vice, as well as to reward virtue, I must chastise the delinquent by indignation, at least, and hatred. An injury done to myself raises my resentment to a higher pitch: I am not
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satisfied with so slight a punishment as indignation or hatred; the author must by my hand suffer mischief as great as he has done me.
Even the most secret crime escapes not punishment; for, though hid from others, it cannot be hid from the delinquent himself. It raises in him the painful passion of remorse: this passion, in its stronger fits, makes him wish to be punished; and, in extreme, frequently impels him to be his own executioner. There cannot be imagined a contrivance more effectual to deter us from vice; for remorse is itself a severe punishment. But this is not the whole of self-punishment: every criminal, sensible that he ought to be punished, dreads punishment from others; and this painful feeling, however smothered during prosperity, becomes extremely severe in adversity, or in any depression of mind. Then it is that his crime stares him in the face, and that every accidental misfortune is, in his disturbed imagination, converted into a real punishment: “And they said one to another, We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul, when he besought us; and we would not hear: therefore is this distress come upon us. And Reuben answered them, saying, Spake I not unto you, saying, <23> Do not sin against the child; and ye would not hear? therefore behold also his blood is required”; Genesis, xlii, 21, 22.
No transgression of the duty we owe to ourselves escapes punishment, more than the transgression of the duty we owe to others. The punishments, though not the same are nearly allied; and differ in degree more than in kind. Injustice is punished by the delinquent himself with remorse; impropriety with shame, which is remorse in a lower degree. Injustice raises indignation in the beholder, and so doth every flagrant impropriety: slighter improprieties receive a milder punishment, being rebuked with some degree of contempt, and frequently with derision.
So far have we been carried in a beaten track: but in attempting to proceed, we are intangled in several intricacies and obstructions. Doth an action well intended, though it fall short of its aim, intitle the author to a reward; or an action ill-intended, though it happen to produce no mischief, subject him to punishment? The moral sense, in some individuals, is known to be so perverted, as to differ, perhaps widely, from the common sense of mankind; must the former or the latter be the rule for punishing or rewarding such persons? At first there will be little hesitation in affirming,
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that the common sense of mankind must be the standard for rewards and punishments, as well as for civil claims: but these questions suggest some doubts, which, after due examination, lead to an important discovery, That rewards and punishments are regulated by a different standard.
It is the common sense of mankind that determines actions to be right or wrong, just or unjust, proper or improper. By this standard, all pecuniary claims are judged, all claims of property, and, in a word, every demand founded upon interest; not excepting reparation, as will afterward appear. But with respect to the moral characters of men, and with respect to rewards and punishments, a standard is established far less rigid; which is, the opinion that men form of their own actions: and accordingly, as mentioned above, a man is held to be innocent when he does what he himself thinks right; and is held to be guilty when he does what he himself thinks wrong. Thus we are led, by a natural principle, to judge of others as we believe they judge of themselves; and by that rule we pronounce them virtuous or vicious, innocent or guilty; and we approve or disapprove, praise or blame them accordingly.* Some, <24> it is true, are so perverted by bad education, or by superstition, as to espouse numberless absurd tenets, flatly contradicting the common standard of right and wrong; and yet even these make no exception from the rule: if they act according to conscience, they are innocent, however wrong the action may be; and if they act against conscience, they are guilty, however right the action may be. Here then is a conspicuous standard for rewards and punishments: it is a man’s own conscience that declares him innocent or guilty, and consequently fit to be rewarded or punished; for it is abhorrent to every natural perception, that a guilty person be rewarded, or an innocent person punished. Further, in order that personal merit and demerit may not in any measure depend upon chance, we are so constituted as to place innocence and guilt, not on the event, but on the intention of doing right or wrong; and accordingly, whatever be the event, a man will be praised for an action well intended, and condemned for an action ill intended.
But what if a man intending a wrong, happen by accident to do a
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wrong he did not intend; as, for example, intending to rob a warren by shooting the rabbits, he accidentally wound a child unseen behind a bush? The delinquent ought to be punished for intending to rob; and he is also subjected to repair the hurt done to the child: but he cannot be punished for this accidental wound; because the law of nature regulates punishment by the intention, and not by the event.* <25>
The transgression of the primary virtues is attended with severe and never-failing punishments, which are much more effectual than any that have been invented to inforce municipal laws: on the other hand, there is very little merit ascribed even to the strictest observance of them. The secondary virtues are directly opposite, with respect to their rewards and punishments: the neglect of them is not attended with any punishment;
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but the practice of them is attended with the highest degree of approbation. Offices of undeserved kindness, returns of good for evil, generous toils and sufferings for our friends, or for our country, come under this class: to perform actions of this kind, there is no motive that, in a proper sense, can be termed a law; but there are the strongest motives that can consist with freedom, the performance being rewarded with a consciousness of self-merit, and with universal praise and admiration, the highest rewards human nature is susceptible of.
From what is said, the following observation will occur: The pain of transgressing justice, fidelity, or any primary virtue, is much greater than the pleasure of performance; but the pain of neglecting a generous action, or any secondary virtue, is as nothing, compared with the pleasure of performance. Among the vices opposite to the primary virtues, the most striking moral deformity is found: among the secondary virtues, the most striking moral beauty.
CHAPTER V
Reparation.
Reparation, a capital part of the moral system, promotes two ends of great importance: it represses wrongs that are not criminal; and it also makes up the loss sustained by wrongs of whatever kind. With respect to the former, reparation is a species of punishment; and with respect to the latter, it is a branch of justice. These ends will be better understood, after ascertaining the nature and true foundation of reparation. Every claim for reparation supposes a wrong action done by one, and loss or mischief thereby occasioned to another: And hence, 1mo, There can be no claim for reparation <26>