第213章
Having thus endeavoured to show what denominations of punishment justice, and a sound idea of the nature of man, would invariably proscribe, it belongs to us, in the further prosecution of the subject, to consider merely that coercion, which it has been supposed right to employ, against persons convicted of past injurious action, for the purpose of preventing future mischief.
And here we will, first, recollect what is the quantity of evil which accrues from all such coercion; and secondly, examine the cogency of the various reasons by which it is recommended. It will not be possible to avoid the repetition of some of the reasons which occurred in the preliminary discussion of the exercise of private judgement. But those reasonings will now be extended, and will perhaps derive additional advantage from a fuller arrangement.
It is commonly said 'that no man ought to be compelled, in matters of religion, to act contrary to the dictates of his conscience. Religion is a principle which the practice of all ages has deeply impressed upon the human mind. He that discharges what his apprehensions prescribe to him on the subject stands approved to the tribunal of his own mind, and, conscious of rectitude in his intercourse with the author of nature, cannot fail to obtain the greatest of those advantages, whatever may be their amount, which religion has to bestow. It is in vain that I endeavour, by persecuting statutes, to compel him to resign a false religion for a true. Arguments may convince, but persecution cannot. The new religion, which I oblige him to profess contrary to his own conviction, however pure and holy it may be in its own nature, has no benefits in store for him. The sublimest worship becomes transformed into a source of depravity when it is not consecrated by the testimony of a pure conscience. Truth is the second object in this respect, integrity of heart is the first: or rather, a proposition that, in its abstract nature, is truth itself converts into rank falsehood and mortal poison, if it be professed with the lips only, and abjured by the understanding. It is then the foul garb of hypocrisy. Instead of elevating the mind above sordid temptations, it perpetually reminds the worshipper of the degrading subjection to which he has yielded. Instead of filling him with sacred confidence, it overwhelms him with confusion and remorse.'
The inference that has been made from these reasonings is 'that criminal law is eminently misapplied in affairs of religion, and that its true province is civil misdemeanours'. But this distinction is by no means so satisfactory and well founded as at first sight it may appear. Is it not strange that men should have affirmed religion to be the sacred province of conscience, while moral duty is to be left undefined to the decision of the magistrate?
Is it of no consequence whether I be the benefactor of my species, or their bitterest enemy? whether I be an informer, a robber, or a murderer? whether I be employed, as a soldier, to extirpate my fellow beings, or, as a citizen, contribute my property to their extirpation? whether I declare the truth, with that firmness and unreserve which an ardent philanthropy will not fail to inspire, or suppress science, lest I be convicted of blasphemy, and fact, lest I be convicted of a libel? whether I contribute my efforts for the furtherance of political improvement, or quietly submit to the exile of a prince of whose claims I am an advocate, or to the subversion of liberty, the most valuable of all human possessions? Nothing can be more clear than that the value of religion, or of any other species of opinion, lies in its moral tendency. If I am to hold as of no account the civil power, for the sake of that which is the means, how much more when it rises in contradiction to the end?
Of all human concerns morality is the most interesting. It is the constant associate of all our transactions: there is no situation in which we can be placed, no alternative that can be presented to our choice, respecting which duty is silent. 'What is the standard of morality and duty?' Justice.
Not the arbitrary decrees that are in force in a particular climate; but those laws of reason that are equally obligatory wherever man is to be found. There is an obvious distinction between those particulars in each instance which constitute the permanent nature of the case before us, and those interpositions of a peremptory authority to which it may be prudent to submit, but which cannot alter our ideas of the conduct to which independent man ought to adhere. What then are the consequences that will result from the obedience of compulsion, and not of the understanding?
No principle of moral science can be more obvious and fundamental than that the motive by which we are induced to an action constitutes an essential part of its character. This idea has perhaps sometimes been carried too far. A good motive is of little value when it is not joined to a salutary exertion. But, without a good motive, the most extensively useful action that ever was performed can contribute little to the improvement or honour of him that performs it. We owe him no respect if he has been induced to perform it by ideas of personal advantage, or the influence of a bribe.
It is, in some respects, worse, if the motive that governed him were the sentiment of fear. If we hold in any estimation the attributes of man, if we desire the improvement of our species, we ought particularly to desire that they should be led in the path of usefulness by generous and liberal considerations, that their obedience should be the obedience of the heart, and not that of a slave.