ment. 1 tice required that the Romans should have | Let who will be Pomponius Flaccus you Every one, to be sure, had taken the same oath to himself that the kings of Egypt made their judges swear solemnly; viz. that they would not decree any thing contrary to their consciences, though they themselves should command it. In such commissions there is an evident mark of 1 Idem, ibid. cap. 67. 2 Plutarch, in his Differences of the Flatterer and the Friend, chap. 21. ignominy and condemnation: and whoever If treachery ought to be excused in any case, it is only so when employed in chastising and betraying the traitor. There are examples enough of treachery, not only where it was refused, but punished by those in whose favor it had been undertaken. Who knows not the sentence of Fabricius against Pyrrhus's physician? But we find this also recorded, that a man has given command for an action which he afterwards severely revenged on the person whom he employed in it, reject ing a credit and power so uncontrolled, and disavowing a servitude and obedience so sordid and abandoned. Jaropelc, duke of Russia, tampered with a gentleman of Hungary to betray Boleslaus, king of Poland, by putting him to death, or giving the Russians an opportunity to do him some notable injury. The gentleman acted very craftily in the affair; he devoted himself more than ever to the service of the king, obtained to be of his council, and one of his chief confidents. With these advan tages, and choosing the critical opportunity of his sovereign's absence, he betrayed to the Russians the great and rich city of Wisliez, which was entirely plundered and burned, with the total slaughter, not only of its inhabitants, without distinction of sex or age, but of a great number of the neighbouring gentry whom he had convened there for this purpose. Jaropele being glutted with his revenge, and his wrath being appeased, for which however he had some pretence (for Boleslaus had very much provoked him, by a behaviour too of the like kind), and being gorged with the fruit of this treachery, taking into considera. tion the deformity of the act in a naked ab. stracted light, and looking upon it with calm dispassionate view, conceived such a remorse and disgust, that he caused the eyes of his agent to be plucked out, and his *Plutarch, in the remarkable sayings of the ancient tongue and privy parts to be cut off. kings, &c., towards the beginning. Antigonus persuaded the soldiers called Argyraspides to betray his adversary Eumenes their general into his hands. But after putting him to death, he himself desired to be the commissioner of the divine justice for the punishment for so detestable a crime, and consigned the traitors over to the governor of the province, with express command by all means to destroy and bring them to an evil end. So that of that great number of men not one ever returned to Macedonia. The better he had been served by them the more wicked he judged the service to be, and the more deserving of punishment. The slave who betrayed his master P. Sulpicius, by discovering the place where he lay concealed, was, according to promise manumitted from Sylla's proscription, but by virtue of his edict, though he was no longer a slave, he was instantly thrown headlong from the Tarpeian rock. And our king Clovis, instead of armour of gold which he had promised them, caused three of Canacro's servants to be hanged after they had betrayed their master to him, though he had set them upon it. They were hanged with the purse of their reward about their necks. After they had satisfied their second and special engagement, they satisfy the general and first. der not to frustrate the public necessity of this extreme and desperate remedy, he who bestows the reward will notwithstanding, if he be not such a one himself, look upon you as a cursed and execrable fellow; and conclude you to be a greater traitor than he does whom you betray; for he feels the malignity of your courage by your own hands, being employed without reluctance and without objection. He employs you like the most abandoned miscreants in the office of hangman, an office as useful as it is dishonourable. Besides the baseness of such commissioners, there is moreover a prostitution of conscience. Sejanus's daughter being a virgin, and as such not liable to be put to death, according to the form of law at Rome, was first ravished by the hangman, and then strangled. Thus not only his hand but his soul is a slave to the public convenience. When Amurath the first, more severely to punish his subjects for having supported the parricide rebellion of his son, ordered that the nearest of kin to them should lend a hand in their execution, I think it was very honourable in any of them who chose rather to be unjustly deemed culpable for another's parricide, than to be obedient to the demand of justice for a parricide of Mahomet the second being resolved to their own. And whereas, at the taking of rid himself of his brother out of a jealousy some little forts, I have seen rascals, who, of his power, as is the custom of the Otto-to save their own lives, have been glad to man race, employed one of his officers in the execution, who choked him by pouring water into his throat. When this was done, Mahomet, to make atonement for the murder, delivered the man who committed it into the hands of the deceased's mother (for they were only brothers by the father's side), who in his presence ripped open the murderer's bosom, and in her fury ran her hands into his breast, and rifled it for his heart, which she tore out, and threw to the dogs. Even to the vilest of people it is a pleasure, when their end has been served by a criminal action, to patch it up with some mixture of goodness and justice, as by way of compensation and check of conscience. To which may be added, that they look upon the instruments of such horrid crimes, as upon persons that reproach them therewith, and aim by their deaths to cancel the memory and testimony of such practices. Now if perhaps you are rewarded, in or 1 Plutarch, in his Life of Eumenes, chap. 9, to the end. Valer. Max. lib. vi. cap. 5, in Romanis, sect. 7. hang their friends and companions, I have thought them in a worse condition than those that were hanged. It is said that Witholde, a prince of Lithuania, introduced a practice, that a criminal who was condemned to die should dispatch himself with his own hand, for he thought it strange that a third person, who was innocent of the crime, should be charged with, and em ployed in, homicide. When some urgent circumstance, and some impetuous and unforeseen accident, that very much concerns his government, compels a prince to evade his engagements or throws him out of his ordinary duty, he ought to ascribe this necessity to a scourge of the divine rod. Vice it is not, for he has given up his own reason to a more universal and powerful reason; but certainly it is a misfortune: so that if any one should ask me, what remedy? "None," I would say, "if he was really racked between these two extremes (sed videat ne quæratur latebra 1 Tacit. Annal. lib. v. cap. 9. perjurio; 1 "But let him take care that "he does not seek a pretence to cover his 'perjury'), he could not do otherwise; but if he did it without regret, it is a sign his conscience was seared. If there be a person to be found of so tender a conscience as to think so important a remedy too good for any cure whatsoever, I shall not like him at all the worse for it. He could not destroy himself more excusably and decently. We cannot do all we would, so that we are often obliged to commit the protection of our vessel to the conduct of heaven as to a sheet-anchor. To what more just necessity does he reserve himself? What is less possible for him to do than what he cannot do but at the expense of his faith and his honour? Things which perhaps ought to be dearer to him than his own safety, and the safety of his people. Though he should with folded arms call only upon God for his assistance, will he not have reason to hope that the divine goodness will not refuse the favour of his extraordinary arm to a hand that is so pure and just? These are dangerous instances, rare and weak exceptions to our natural rules, to which there is a necessity of submitting, but with great mcderation and circumspection. No private utility is of such importance as to deserve this effort of our conscience though the public good well deserves it when it is very apparent and very important. Timoleon made a proper atonement for his unnatural action by the tears he shed when he recollected that he had killed the tyrant with the hand of a brother: and it stung his conscience that he had been necessitated to purchase the public utility at so great a price as the wounding of his own integrity. Even the senate, which was by his means delivered from slavery, durst not determine positively on an action so considerable, which carried two aspects so important, and so contrary to each other. But the Syracusans having opportunely at that very time sent to the Corinthians to solicit their protection, and to require of them a general ht to re-establish their city in its former dignity, and to clear Sicily of several petty tyrants, by whom it was oppressed, the senate deputed Timoleon for that service, with this artful declaration, "That if he "behaved well in the government of the "Syracusans, they would from that time pronounce by their decree that he had 1 Cic. Offic. lib. iii. cap. 29. "killed a tyrant; and, on the contrary, "if he discovered an avaricious conduct, "they would try and condemn him for fra"tricide, as having killed his own brother." This whimsical conclusion carries along with it some excuse, by reason of the danger of the example, and the importance of so double-faced an action. And they did well to discharge their own judgment of it, or to support it by considerations of a conditional nature. Timoleon's deportment in his voyage rendered his cause still more clear, so worthily and virtuously did he demean himself in all respects. And the good fortune which attended him in the difficulties he had to overcome in this noble task, seemed to be put in his way by the gods, as favourably combining for his justification. If any man's aim is excusable this man's is. 2 But the profit by the increase of the public revenue, which served the Roman senate for a pretence to the base conclusion I am going to relate, is not sufficient to warrant such injustice. Certain citizens had by the order and consent of the senate redeemed themselves and their liberty by money, out of the hands of L. Sylla. The affair com ing again upon the carpet, the senate condemned them to be taxable as they were before, and that the money they had disbursed for their redemption should never be repaid them. Civil wars often produce such vile examples, that we punish private men for having taken our words when we were in power: and one and the same magistrate makes another man pay the penalty of his change, though no fault of his. The schoolmaster lashes his scholar for his docility, and the guide beats the blind man whom he leads by the hand. A shocking picture of justice! There are some rules in philosophy that are both false and pusillanimous. The example that is proposed to us for preferring private benefit before the obligation due to faith once given, has not weight enough for the circumstance which they mix with it. Robbers have surprised you, and, after having made you swear to pay them a sum of money, give you your liberty. It is wrong to say that an honest man may be quit of his oath without payment, after he is out of their clutches. The case is quite otherwise. What fear has once prevailed 1 Diodorus of Sicily, lib. xvi. cap. 19 of Amyot's translation. 2 Cic. de Offic. lib. i. cap. 22. on me to intend, I am obliged to keep the same purpose when I am no longer in fear. And though fear only forced my tongue, and not my will, yet I am bound to stand to my word. For my own part, when my tongue has sometimes rashly outrun my thought, I have however made a conscience of disowning it; were we to act otherwise we would abolish all the right another claims to our promises. Quasi vero forti viro vis possit adhiberi: "As if violence could possibly operate upon a great heart." The only condition in which private interest can excuse us for the non-performance of a promise is, when we have promised a thing that is wicked, and in itself unjust. For the claim of virtue ought to supersede the force of any obligation of ours. I have formerly placed Epaminondas in the first class of excellent men, and do not retract it. To what a pitch did he carry his regard for his private obligation, who never killed a man that he had overcome, who, for the inestimable benefit of restoring the libberty of his country, made conscience of killing a tyrant or his accomplices, without the forms of justice; and who judged him to be a wicked man, was he ever so good a subject, who, amongst his enemies, and in battle, spared not his friend and his host! His was a soul of a rich composition! He matched good nature and humanity, even the most delicate, in the school of philosophy, with the rudest and most violent of all human actions. Was it nature or art that softened a man of his great courage, high spirit, and obstinate constancy, against pain, death, and poverty, to such an extreme degree of good nature and complaisance? Dreadful, with fire and sword, he over-ran and subdued a nation invincible by all others but himself; and yet, in the midst of such an expedition, he relaxed when he met his host and his friend. Verily he was fit to command in war, who could suffer himself to be checked with the curb of good nature, in the greatest heat of action, so inflamed and foaming with rage and slaughter. It shows an extraordinary greatness of mind to mix an idea of justice with such actions; but it was only possible for such steadiness of mind, as was that of Epaminondas, therein to mix good nature and the facility of the gentlest manners and purest innocence. Whereas one 2 told the Mammertines that 1 Cic. de Offic. lib. iii., cap. 30. 2 Pompey; see Plutarch's Life of him, ch. 3. statutes were of no force against men in arms; another1 told the tribune of the people, that there was a time for justice, and a time for war; a third, that the noise of arms drowned the voice of the law; this man's ears were always open to hear the calls of civility and courtesy. Did he not borrow from his enemies the custom of sacrificing to the Muses, when he went to the field of battle, that they might, by their sweetness and gaiety of temper, soften his severity and martial fury? After the example of so great a master, let us not make any sort of doubt that there is something unlawful, even against an enemy; that the common cause ought not to require all things of a man against private interest: Manente memoria, etiam in dissidio publicorum fææderum, privati juris: "The remembrance of private right subsisting even in the midst of public quarrels." -Et nulla potentia vires Præstandi, ne quid peccet amicus, habet,♦ Non and that an honest man is not at liberty to do everything for the service of his king, or the common cause, or of the laws. enim patria præstat omnibus officiis—et ipsi conducit pios habere cives in paren tes: "For the obligation to one's country does not supersede every other obligation: and it is of importance to itself to have subjects that have a veneration for their parents. time. We need not harden our courage This is an instruction proper for the present with this steel armour: it is enough that our shoulders are inured to it; it is enough for us to dip our pens in ink, and not in blood. If it be magnanimity, and the effect of an uncommon and singular valour, to contemn friendship, private obligation, a promise, and kindred, for the public weal, and in obedience to the magistrate; it is really sufficient to excuse us from it, that this is a greatness of soul which could have no place in the magnanimity of Epami nondas. I abhor the furious exhortations of this other ungovernable soul: 1 Cæsar, in Plutarch, ch. 11. 2 Marius, in his Life by Plutarch, ch. 10. 3 Lacedæmonians. 4Ovid de Ponio, lib. i. epist. 7, ver. 37. 5 Cic. de Offic. lib. iii. cap. 23. • Julius Cæsar, who, when in an open war against his country, with a design to subvert its liberty, cries out, "Dum tela micant," &c., Lucan. lib. vii., ver. 320, &c. Dum tela micant, non vos pietatis imago "Curfew did not ring that night," and so the pretty poem tells its own story. English history tells the story of the ringing of the Curfew-the tolling of which meant that the inhabitants were compelled to bank their fires, put out their lights and retire to rest at nightfall, at which hour the bell was rung. The poem is the labor of Miss Rosa Hartwick (now Mrs. E. C. Thorpe, of Litchfield, Michigan), and was first brought to light about October, 1870, in the Commercial Advertiser, Detroit, Michigan.] Slowly England's sun was setting o'er the hilltops far away, Let us deprive those that are naturally Filling all the land with beauty at the close of one sad And the last rays kissed the forehead of a man and maiden fair, He with footsteps slow and weary, she with sunny, float ing hair; He with bowed head, sad and thoughtful, she with lips all cold and white, "Curfew must not ring to-night." "Sexton," Bessie's white lips faltered, pointing to the prison old, With its turrets tall and gloomy, with its walls dark, damp, and cold, The utility of an action is but a sorry plea for the beauty and honour of it; and it is wrong to infer, that, because such a thing is useful, it is therefore incumbent on every "I've a lover in that prison, doomed this very night to one to perform it; and not only a duty, but for his honor: Omnia non pariter rerum sunt omnibus apta. 3 All things are not alike for all men fit. die, At the ringing of the curfew-and no earthly help is nigh; Cromwell will not come till sunset," and her lips grew strangely white "Curfew must not ring to-night." Were we to choose the most necessary and As she breathed the husky whisper,— MONTAIGNE. "CURFEW MUST NOT RING TO-NIGHT." [This story is based on an incident in English history: Basil Underwood, a young soldier, is condemned to die at Curfew's ringing. Friends had interceded for him in vain. His betrothed had gone to the stern judges and asked that her lover be spared until she could see Cromwell, but her efforts were futile. She even attempted to bribe the deaf old sexton, but he also denied her pleadings, and as the hour of her lover's approaching death drew nigh the stern executioner, listening for the signal from Curfew, listened in vain "Bessie," calmly spoke the sexton, every word pierced her young heart Like the piercing of an arrow, like a deadly, poisoned dart, "Long, long years I've rung the curfew from that gloomy, shadowed tower; Every evening, just at sunset, it has told the twilight hour; I have done my duty ever, tried to do it just and right, Curfew it must ring to-night." Wild her eyes and pale her features, stern and white her thoughtful brow, And within her secret bosom Bessie made a solem:. vow. She had listened while the judges read without a tear of sigh, "At the ringing of the curfew, Basil Underwood must die." And her breath came fast and faster, and her eyes grew large and bright In an undertone she murmured,— "Curfew must not ring to-night." |