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In this procession I recognized the sacred office of the Brothers of the Misericordia, one of the earliest institutions of priestly charity ; and perhaps the only national trait of ancient Florence which now remains. The principles of this order are founded on the basis of universal benevolence. A pure and primitive simplicity marks every feature and act of this fraternity, who, in silence and in solitude, fulfill their sacred and unostentatious offices.

The gloom with which their solemn duties invest them, receives new and mournful impressions, from the tradition which connects its origin with the history of the great plague in 1348, celebrated by Boccaccio in his Decameron. They relate that many portentous omens predicted this awful visitation. A dead crow foil from the air, and three boys, at whose feet it had dropped, tossed it towards each other in play. These three boys died, and soon after the plague broke out, and in its fearful ravages desolated the city. During its continuance, a few individals, firm in purpose and strong in piety , self-devoted , attended on the sick and dying, and the survivors of these chosen few, afterwards taking the monastic habits and order of Brothers of the Misericordia, assumed for life the performance of those services, which in the hour of anguish and sorrow they had voluntarily fulfilled.

Their small church is situated close to the Duomo, the House of God; but all is sad and solemn in the aspect of this institution. It was built shortly after the plague, and was raised on the margin of the gulph dug to receive the dead. A black dress, in which the brethren are attired from head to foot, entirely covers the person and conceals the face. The brother, whether of noble or of lowly birth , is equally undistinguished and unknown, and their duties are performed, and charities dispensed, to the noble or the beggar, with the same indiscriminating ceremonies.

A few tapers on the altar, and at the shrine of the Virgin , burn night and day , throwing a dim and feeble light around. Six of the brethren watch continually; and medical aid is always in readiness. Divine worship is performed by them in the morning and in the evening, assisted by those individuals whom piety or sorrow may have brought to mingle among them. On the floor are arranged biers, palls, torches, and dresses. The sick are taken to the hospitals, the dead are conveyed to their last home, and the unclaimed brought to their church on a bier, covered by a pall.

They are summoned to their duties by the solemn tolling of their deep-toned bell, which, when heard in the dead and silent hour of the night, falls on the ear with dismal and appalling sound.

Another office of the Brethren of the Misericordia is to visit the prisons, and prepare the condemned for death. Once a-year, on Good-Friday, this duty is publicly performed. Twelve brethren of the order, and twelve penitents, form the procession, bearing the head of St John on a car, and the image of a dead Christ, covered with black crape. The procession is preceded by solemn music, and closed by a long train of priests clothed in black.

In this institution the numbers are unlimited forming a wide extended circle, which may embrace members from every city, acknowledging the same faith, bound by one uniting, but secret and mysterious tye.

Seventy two of the brethren (says Padre Richa) were selected as directors of the Institution, chosen from different classes. Namely to Prelates, twenty unbeneficed clergymen, four gentlemen, and 28 artificers; from whom are taken twelve every fuor months as officiating members, six styled Captains, and six denominated Counsellors. To these were added a hundred and five bretheren called « Giornanti » seven each day being in readiness to attend, either by a summons or at the sound of their great Bell.

They are not of necessity individually known to each other, but can render themselves intelligible by certain signs and words, in any circumstances requiring communication.

Their vow enjoins them to be ready, night or day, at the call of sudden calamity—to attend those overtaken by sickness, accident, or assault. A certain number of them are in rotation employed in asking charity, a service which they are obliged to perform barefooted, and in a silent appeal, the rules strictly forbidding the use of speech, when engaged in any duty.

Their call is never left unanswered , every individual making an offering, were it only of the smallest copper piece, as it is money supposed to be lent to pray for departed souls. This peculiar order, for there are others not greatly dissimilar, possesses a privilege of great magnitude, extended only once in every year, and to one single person.

An individual of their body becoming amenable to the laws of his country, in virtue of this privilege, may claim exemption from the penalty, receiving his life at the prayer of his brethren. This ceremony , when it occurs, is performed with every circumstance of pomp and solemnity.

The order, habited in the dress of the ancient priests, carry branches of palm in token of peace, and, accompanied by all the imposing grandeur of the church, present themselves in front of the palace of the Grand Duke, when the Sovereign Prince condescends to deliver the act of grace. They next proceed to the President of the Tribunal of Supreme Power. This officer, in person, leads the way, conducting them to the prison, into which they enter, and there receiving their liberated brother , they invest him in the dress of their order, and crowning him with laurel, conduct him home in triumph.

No fixed period is enjoined for the fulfilment of the vow taken by this order. Many in the highest sphere have sought expiation of sins, by assuming it for a longer or shorter time, proportioned to the measure of their crime, or to the sensitive state of their consciences. Princes, Cardinals, and even Popes, have been numbered among their penitents, and have joined in their vows and services.

Text from: John Bell, Observations on Italy, Naples, Fibreno for John Rodwell, 1835. To read the 2 Bell’s volumes on Italy: http://books.google.it/books?id=Q6ahxfVpT64C&printsec=titlepage&source=gbs_v2_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q=&f=false

Rumor is mouth-to-mouth communication of unconfirmed stories and anecdotes. It is the most primitive kind of news, and it is just as inefficient and inaccurate as it is primitive.

Civilized countries in normal times have more reliable kinds of news than rumor. But in times of stress and confusion rumor emerges and becomes rife, still further increasing the confusion. At such times you may find two kinds of news in competition: the supposedly authoritative confirmed information, on the one hand, and the unconfirmed information of the grapevine, on the other. Especially do rumors spread when war requires secrecy on many important matters. The customary sources of news no longer give out enough information, both because the news is unavailable to them and because, even if it were available, censorship is often expedient. If people cannot learn through legitimate channels all that they would like to learn or are anxious to learn, they pick up “news” wherever they can get it. When that happens, rumor thrives.

It was a rumor that helped to start the great Indian Mutiny in 1857. In those days the soldiers, with muzzle-loading rifles, had to bite a greased patch of paper from the end of each cartridge in order to release a charge of powder, which they then poured into the muzzle of the gun before ramming the bullet home. The mutiny was really ready to start anyway; the rumors about this grease merely speeded it up. The Moslems heard that the grease was pig grease—lard—and that they had been defiled by putting grease from an unclean animal in their mouths. The Hindus heard that it was cow grease and that they had lost caste by putting grease from a sacred animal in their mouths. These rumors spread rapidly, each in its appropriate group. The British tried in vain to correct them, to let the men grease their own powder-papers with butter, but it was too late. Rumor had touched off an explosion and the mutiny was on. Still the rumor would not have spread if the men had not for other reasons already been suspicious of the British and angry with them.

Rumors spread because, in spite of the fact that they lack supporting evidence, most people who hear and repeat a rumor are ready to push it along. Why? It might be better not to pass along an uncertain tale about an important matter. The answer lies, however, in the fact that the matter is important to the person who repeats the rumor. A person will repeat a rumor only if it satisfies some one of his needs. A rumor that supports a suspicion or a hatred, verifies a fear, expresses a hope, will be repeated, and it gets reenforced by the emotions of the teller. Thus, when rumors spread rapidly and far, it means that hates, fears or hopes are common to the many people who are doing the repeating.

It follows that rumors are repeated even by those who do not believe in them, because they provide a chance to express an emotion which would otherwise have to be suppressed. If a soldier hates his commanding officer, he will not literally shoot him in the back. In wartime, he would not even come out and openly say that he thinks the Old Man is a tyrant. Suppose, however, that the soldier hears a rumor that his commanding officer has been drinking so much that his health has suffered and that he is likely to be retired. There may not be a shred of evidence in support of this rumor, yet what will happen? The soldier will pass the rumor on. He does not feel guilty, for he is not responsible for the story. It is just something that people are saying. Yet in listening to it and telling it, he gets a great deal of satisfaction. It relieves his pent-up feelings about the officer and about other things connected with the Army, too.

Passing on a rumor that the commanding officer has been drinking too much may indicate more than conscious hatred of him. It may mean that the soldier is accusing the officer of doing just what he himself would like to do and dares not do. And so the soldier, with righteous indignation, repeats the rumor to other soldiers.

Rumors of this sort are called hostility or wedge-driving rumors. In spreading them the teller gets rid of some of his own feelings of hostility and he encourages others to do the same. It is not necessary that a man understand why he gets satisfaction from passing along a wedge-driving rumor. It is enough for him that he feels better after telling it.

It is the same way in civilian life, or anywhere that men or women meet and exchange a few words of idle chatter.

Workers gathered in knots at lunch time will pass on a yarn about some unfair treatment of labor. Bankers at the City Club will tell the story about the labor union that called a strike on a vital war contract because the plant employed a few Negroes. The workers, dependent on the bosses for their jobs and resenting their insecurity and dependency, are ready to believe that labor has been treated unfairly. The bankers, dependent on workers for turning out capital goods, and resenting the growing strength of labor, are ready to believe that labor unions are unreasonable. These too are wedge-driving rumors. The workers arouse other workers against capital, and capitalists arouse other capitalists against labor. Wedge-driving rumors are especially dangerous since they foment hostility and distrust between allies or between particular groups within a country. If a man dislikes a particular group, he believes the rumor and passes it along. In this way wedge-driving rumors are used to create scapegoats.

The Office of War Information published a list of the targets at which the 1942 crop of wedge-driving rumors—the “hate rumors”— were aimed. They were: Army administration, business, Catholics, defense workers, draft boards, English farmers, Jews, labor, Negroes, profiteers, rationing boards, Red Cross (blood donor services), Russia and unions.

Some rumors spread because people are anxious. They are all afraid of the same things and are therefore ready to believe rumors about those things. After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, men were afraid and the rumor spread that a large part of the Pacific Fleet had been destroyed. It was true that the destruction had been great, but the facts were kept out of the true news and the stories spread as rumor, exaggerated and unverifiable, because men were afraid. In 1944 there began to be rumors about the great numbers of men sent home from the European and Pacific theaters of war as “insane.” It is true that many men were returned to America because they proved unable to stand the strain of combat, but only a few of them were “insane,” were unfit for military or civilian service at home. This rumor was spread by the anxiety of parents, wives and sweethearts for their loved ones. Such rumors, based on fear, are known as bogey rumors.

There is still another kind of rumor and another reason why rumors spread. When a man is tense and anxious he will clutch at any favorable straw. He will indulge in wishful thinking. There is pleasure in believing and repeating what you hope is true. Rumors based on a wish are known as pipe-dream rumors. They spread because they make people feel happier.

Three common pipe-dream rumors, current shortly after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, were:

“The Japanese do not have enough oil and war supplies to last six months.”

“There will soon be a revolution in both Germany and Italy.”

“Lloyds of London and Wall Street are betting 10 to 1 the war will be over by next autumn.”

Some rumors appear freely in the press and radio. They are frankly reported as rumors. If they do not get exaggerated by repetition and continue to be labeled rumors they may do little harm.

Others are covert and secret, being repeated sub rosa and often growing to fantastic proportions. They are dangerous. The teller, having no responsibility, is free to let his wishes, fears, and hostilities work.

Most rumors can be accepted passively. They are insidious but work slowly to undermine confidence.

Other rumors, however, incite to action. They are the panic rumors that come “as reports of military defeat or of the approach of enemy troops. With them the danger is real, palpable and immediate, for the listener tends to do something about them suddenly and violently. He packs a few of his most cherished possessions in a wheel-barrow, collects his family and starts trudging out of town away from the enemy. Then he himself becomes a rumor, and the rumor becomes a fact, for people see him going and decide to go, too. Presently the procession along the road is the most potent rumor of all, a visual symbol that needs no words. Everyone seeks to join it. Panic is on.

Since the telling of a rumor satisfies some need of the teller, rumors constitute an important index of morale. Pessimistic rumors about defeat, disaster or treachery—bogey-rumors and wedge-driving rumors— are a straw in the wind to show that people who repeat them are worried, anxious or hostile. Optimistic rumors about record production or coming peace—pipe-dream rumors—point to complacency or confidence—to overconfidence often. Both the pessimistic and the optimistic rumors may betoken low morale.

The anxiety rumors always indicate low morale. Overconfidence rumors usually point to it also. Overconfidence makes a man more susceptible to other pipe-dream rumors and less susceptible to the true facts. “Why go into a defense plant if the war is to end in a few months?” A study of the rumors current at any one time, then, provides an index of the prevailing needs and emotions of the groups among whom the rumors are rife.

Rumors are also an index of the morale of particular groups. Since rumors typically are spread by word of mouth, a man who hears a rumor is likely to tell his friends, neighbors and fellow workers. A soldier spreads it in his unit. Since a rumor usually passes along more or less established networks, certain rumors become current in one group or unit, while other rumors are current in other groups. Some of these groups will believe rumors of one emotional coloring; others, rumors of another coloring. The needs of the different groups—their wishes, fears and hostilities—are revealed by the unverified stories current among them.

The number of rumors current in a given group is an index of the degree to which the formal system of communication—among civilians, the newspapers and the radio—satisfies their need for information. If there is a high incidence of rumor, the people are not getting enough information from official sources. Prevalence of rumors may also mean that the group does not trust the formal communication system. In France in 1940 before the Battle of Flanders, when people distrusted the radio and press, rumor was very widespread. The British, on the other hand, have so much trust in their press that they had comparatively few rumors.

The conditions which promote the spread of rumor are to be found both in the general atmosphere of social groups and also in the personal needs of the individuals who make up the groups.

Rumors spread most easily in a homogeneous group where the feelings are alike—in a community, a city or an army. War helps rumor because it establishes common intense emotions in men who are similarly related to the war. They share the hope of victory, the fear of defeat, the frustration of separation from loved ones, and hostility against both enemy and all others who threaten them with failure. A rumor that gives expression to these emotions is easy to tell, easy to hear.

Lack of information about important things favors rumor. People demand information about what concerns them most. The greater their concern the more information they require. When civilian censorship is strict or when news is scarce and interest high, as it is in wartime, newspapers have to string out their accounts of trivial events in order to satisfy the public appetite. Then it is that rumor spreads easily. People . want news, something, anything. They accept any report that appears to be news, and they lack the factual information that would contradict and stop a false rumor.

In the same way the morale of soldiers depends in part upon the information which they have about what is going to happen to them or is likely to happen to them.

Rumor is encouraged by discontent, frustration, boredom and idleness. That is why rumor spreads so easily in small communities, like prisons, hospitals and camps. Men really need to be active, and idleness puts them under tension. Gossip and rumor provide release for this tension—some release, although it is not very satisfying.

Expectation also fosters rumor. Men are eager for news, eager for action, eager to hear of victories, eager to be off to the war, eager to be home from the war. If no one feeds them facts, they will take half-facts as better than nothing. Men readily believe what previous events or experiences have prepared them to believe, and they discount stories that are contrary to what they expect.

Men differ with respect to the types of rumors they believe, and, therefore, with respect to their likelihood to transmit rumors. The pessimist accepts anxiety rumors, the optimist with rumors. The man who is anxious about one thing is susceptible to rumors which make him anxious about other things. The idle, bored, disorganized man will accept a rumor and spread it as a way of creating excitement and of relieving his monotony.

The motivation for passing a rumor on is usually complex but there are several typical ways in which individual needs enter into the process —over and above hostilities, fears or wishes:

(1) Exhibitionism. This consists of drawing attention to one’s self. A man may tell a rumor in order to increase his prestige, to make others think he is important because he is “in the know.” Or he may tell a rumor merely to engage another person in conversation or to entertain an audience.

(2) Reassurance and emotional support. Here the rumor is told in . the hope that the hearer will be able to deny or disprove it. Or the

telling of a rumor may reduce the teller’s own tension by sharing the burden with another. In this case a man may be seeking sympathy rather than denial.

(3) Projection. A man may tell a rumor because the rumor “externalizes” fears, wishes and hostilities which he may not be consciously aware of in himself. Unconscious motivation of this sort has been discussed in Chapter 15.

(4) Aggression. A man may transmit a rumor in order consciously to injure some person—he may be engaging in slander, gossip, “scape- goating.”

(5) Bestowing a favor. A rumor may be passed on in.order to curry favor with or bestow a favor upon the hearer. It may start as a complimentary remark, with little or even no basis in fact. Soon it turns into a “stated fact.”

Rumor is very effective in psychological warfare because it comes to the hearer without the taint of appearing to be propaganda. It comes self-propelled. What the Germans started as a short-wave broadcast in Germany, or as a story planted by a German agent, was presently being told by Americans about Americans in America. Its German origin was completely lost. The hearer could not ask for evidence, because the teller never claimed to have evidence. He was repeating only what he had heard and belief is easier than disbelief, especially if hope or fear supports the rumor.

These are the ways in which rumor is used in propaganda’s war of words:

(1) For disruption. Rumor can be made to play havoc with morale. At the fall of France in 1940 the Germans disrupted French morale in this manner. They alternated optimistic rumors with pessimistic. In the confusion of the German attack the French kept shifting between elation and despair. Soon they no longer knew what to believe, ending up in utter uncertainty and more confusion.

Propagandists also start rumors to foment distrust among allies, or to increase disunity within a country. Necessary cooperation can be ruined merely by the rise of plausible suspicions. Rumor never proves anything. It does its work if it creates distrust.

(2) As a smokescreen. Rumor can hide the truth.

The propagandist’s technique is to tell so many secrets that the true secret cannot be detected among all the conflicting reports. The Germans were past masters at this art of letting many conflicting “inside stories” slip out of Germany into the countries which they wished to confuse.

(3) For discrediting news sources. This is a special technique.

In 1941, the British tried several times to bomb the chief railroad station in Berlin. They failed, but the Germans planted “unconfirmed reports” that the British had succeeded. When these rumors came back to England, the British took them as confirmation of their success and broadcast them. Then the German Ministry of Propaganda took American newspaper men to the scene to prove that the British statements were not true, thus discrediting the British broadcasts.

(4) As bait. Rumor may be used to learn the truth.

The Japanese in the Second World War often started rumors about American losses in a naval engagement. They did not know what the losses were and they wished to know. The rumors, when this technique was new, spread, affecting American morale. If the American government, to bolster morale, had then broadcast the truth, the Japanese would have had information they sought.

Text from: National Research Council (U.S.), Psychology for the armed services, edited by Edwin G. Boring, Washington, The Infantry Journal, 1945. To read the original and unabridged text: http://books.google.it/books?id=ZzcrAAAAYAAJ&printsec=titlepage&source=gbs_v2_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q=&f=false

The title of this post is quoted from: Jean-Noël Kapferer, Rumors: uses, interpretations, and images, New Brunswick, Transaction Publishers, 1990. For an overview of the book: http://books.google.it/books?id=b0VYBLUC7Z0C&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_navlinks_s#v=onepage&q=&f=false

È cosa assai dificile il valutare giustamente il male relativo.

Siamo ben lontani dal voler criticare i soccorsi che possono fornire i principii di analisi impiegati da un celebre pubblicista nell’apprezzamento del male politico. Distinguere il male in male di primo , di secondo e di terzo ordine, in male primitivo ed in male derivativo, in male permanente ed in male passaggiero, in male immediato ed in male conseguente, ecc., è un metodo che può essere utile onde valutare il male materiale, sia assoluto, sia variabile.

Non è però possibile applicare esattamente questo istrumento a ciascuna specie di delitti onde apprezzarne il male relativo, senza che vi concorra l’ajuto di una perfetta conoscenza dello stato sociale. Sarà necessariamente fallace ogni applicazione fatta in un modo astratto. Chi, se non è la storia nazionale, potrà farvi conoscere la forza del male di secondo e di terzo ordine ? Chi vi paleserà l’ estensione del male derivativo! Chi dirà se il male passaggiero sin però di una durata più o meno estesa, più o meno temibile ? La storia del paese. Essa sola ha il diritto di rispondere a tale domanda.

Fra i mali prodotti dall’ omicidio havvi il desiderio di vendetta , sorto nella famiglia della vittima, desiderio che addiviene una causa potente di delitto e che può turbare profondamente l’ ordine sociale. Se valutiamo questo male a Parigi esso è ben debole. Interrogate i montanari della Corsica, della Grecia, della Calabria. Voi otterrete in risposta parole e sguardi divampanti di passioni e di vendetta.

ln un paese come l’ Inghilterra , la falsificazione dei viglietti di banco produce un male materiale (danno e terrore) estremamente grave; ninno potrebbe negarlo, neppure coloro che pensano, come noi, non essere la pena capitale un rimedio efficace contro questo disordine.

Se un viglietto della banca inglese viene falsificato in Isvizzera, anche allora quando ciò avvenisse a Basilea od a Ginevra, il male materiale non eccederebbe di troppo l’importanza del furto commesso con questo mezzo, perché in Isvizzera non vi ha banca, perché il commercio di questo paese non si fa che per mezzo della moneta metallica, e che anche allora quando tutti i banchieri svizzeri si appigliassero al partito di non ricevere viglietti di banche straniere, lo stato commerciale non ne risentirebbe danno, imperocché di raro avvengono siffatte transazioni. Il male indiretto non sarebbe che il timore di vedere il delitto di falso stendersi alle lettere di cambio, viglietti all’ordine, ecc., ecc.

Ma siccome non è assolutamente impossibile che il commercio prenda in Isvizzera un grande sviluppo, e che il cambio dei viglietti di banca vi addivenga necessario e frequente, così si può comprendere che il male materiale prodotto in Isvizzera dalla falsificazione di questi viglietti può un giorno aumentare di gravità.

Sarebbe superfluo moltipllcare gli esempii. Egli è per sé stesso evidente, che essendo le utilità e gl’ inconvenienti materiali cose variabili di loro natura, il male relativo varia secondo i tempi e le circostanze.

Ciò prova quanto sia assurdo quel comune aforismo , che le leggi aspirano ad una durata quasi eterna, e che non è che tremando che si deve portar la mano all’ edificio legislativo inalzato dai nostri antichi. La verità è precisamente il contrario.

Ciò prova anche come l’ opera della codificazione, tanto difficile a farsi, tanto difficile a modificarsi in seguito, é, sotto un certo punto di vista, poco conforme alla natura delle cose e delle umane società.

Ciò prova finalmente che l’uomo, il quale dal fondo del suo gabinetto immaginasse di fare codici per nazioni lontane e a lui poco conosciute, imprenderebbe un lavoro inutile. Né il talento né il genio potrebbero tener luogo della conoscenza dei fatti locali.

Egli è tanto, più difficile acquistare questa cognizione, inquantoché i fatti che è mestieri verificare non sono tutti materiali. È mestieri eziandio conoscere e valutare le opinioni e le credenze e, fino ad un certo limite, i pubblici pregiudizj.

Deve adunque il potere sociale piegare la legge penale a seconda delle esigenze di erronee opinioni, di pregiudizj popolari ?

Non mai, in niun caso, se ciò facendo si oltrepassa i limiti della ginstizia. Sventuratamente molto di rado avviene che il legislatore sia più del pubblico illuminato, pure la cosa è possibile; il governo francese è più illuminato che il pubblico di Corsica, più ne sa il governo piemontese di quello che ne sappia il pubblico di Sardegna.

È imperosamente voluto lo studio dei fatti sociali, alloraquando si vuole interdire atti, de’quali essendo il male assoluto quasiché nullo, non hanno altra criminalità che quella che proviene dal male relativo. Tali sono la maggior parte di quegli atti che si chiamano delitti contro la polizia, il delitto , ad esempio, di portar armi, le infrazioni ai regolamenti sul passaporto od altri. La differenza che passa fra queste leggi di polizia e le altre leggi penali è grande in ciò, che per le seconde non si può commettere che una ingiustizia relativa, mentreché l’ingiustizia delle prime può essere assoluta. Punire l’incesto commesso senza violenza né scandalo è forse un oltrepassare le esigenze dell’ ordine pubblico ; ma la legge almeno colpisce un uomo moralmente colpevole. L’incesto , specialmente in linea diretta, è un atto criminale in sé medesimo; i tempi ed i luoghi non ne cangiano punto la natura morale.

Non è così pel porto d’armi. Può essere giusta la interdizione in un paese e sotto la forza di alcune circostanze sociali, vessatoria in un altro stato , in un terzo stato essa potrebbe essere crudelmente ingiusta. Potrebbe esporre senza difesa gl’ innocenti ai colpi dei malfattori. Quando il potere non sa garantire la sicurezza degl’ individui, il dovere gl’impone di non disarmarli. La legge proibitiva sarà tutta a profitto degli scellerati. Colui che medita un assassinio punto non esita a infrangere la legge che vieta il porto d’armi.

Egli è specialmente all’ abuso che si fa delle leggi di polizia che si deve attribuire, in parte almeno, un’opinione generalmente sparsa, ed a nostro avviso tanto dannosa quanto erronea. Si considerano gli atti vietati da queste leggi come indifferenti per essi medesimi, e queste leggi como leggi arbitrarie in qnantoché esse non si appoggiano ad alcuna proibizione del diritto naturale; da ciò se ne conclude, che è mestieri, nell’ applicazione di queste leggi, impiegare quant’ è possibile l’interpretazione che si chiamò restrittiva.

Questa opinione è il risultato di un’ analisi incompleta fatta del male morale. Se per circostanze particolari del paese, l’ ordine pubblico o la privata sicurezza sono effettivamente poste in pericolo da quell’ atto in apparenza il più inoffensivo, l’ azione proibita è immorale in se’ medesima, e la legge proibitiva è intrinsecamente giusta. L’ autore dell’ atto proibito è tanto colpevole quanto colui che, senza alcuna intenzione positiva di omicidio, scaricasse un’ arma da fuoco in un luogo frequentato. Negarlo è rifiutare alla conservazione dell’ ordine pubblico la qualità di azione morale.

Puossi di vero nominare governi i quali attribuirono un male relativo ad atti che non erano in alcun modo nocivi all’ordine sociale, anzi che gli erano utili. Ma gli atti della tirannia non sono argomenti valevoli contro la verità di un principio.

Si può anche osservare non essere facile l’oltrepassare, con lodevole intenzione, la misura del potere legittimo, allorquando si fa ad inscrivere nel catalogo dei delitti atti tali che non producono che un male relativo. L’osservazione è giusta; essa prova solamente quanto importi di circondare il potere legislativo di tutte quelle guarentigie atte a prevenirne gli errori. Ma tutto ciò che s’ aggiunge a queste due osservazioni altro non è che declamazione e sofisma.

Così a torto si sostenne, che per i delitti di questa specie doveasi sempre sforzarsi di dare alla legge penale una interpretazione restrittiva. Ancora una volta , se la legge è I’ espressione sincera delle esigenze dell’ordine sociale, se il male relativo è reale, l’ atto proibito è un delitto morale e sociale nel medesimo tempo. Illudere la legge con delle sottigliezze è un compromettere l’ordine pubblico, è mancare ad un dovere.

Onde sanamente apprezzare gli attacchi che il delitto apporta all’ordine sociale, è mestieri figurarsi gli effetti della impunità di tale o tal’altra specie di delitti, di cui i dati storici dimostrino la possibilità e la frequenza.

La maggior parte dei delitti sono i risultati di date cause.

Ogni delitto incontra ostacoli che possono prevenirlo, indipendentemente dalla legge penale.

Ogni delitto trova, in sanzioni diverse da quelle della legge penale , una più o meno efficace repressione che può impedirne la rinovazione.

L’ignoranza, il giuoco, il fanatismo, la miseria. l’ abuso di bibite fermentate, le leggi sulla caccia, le leggi di dogana, la rapida diminuzione dei salarj, la privazione d’ impieghi per gl’ impiegati liberali, la negata giustizia, ecc., ecc. , sono cause di numerosi delitti. Un esatto lavoro di statistica giudiziaria, tal quale ora si opera in Francia ciascun anno, e che noi tentammo di far imitare in Isvizzera, rivelerebbe in otto o dieci anni le principali cause del delitto in ogni stato.

Il delitto può incontrare, fuori della legge penale, l’ostacolo della sanzione morale, della religione, della pubblica opinione , della individuale difesa della polizia preventiva.

Il biasimo, il disonore, i rimorsi, I’ avversione de’ suoi simili, la perdita di quei vantaggi che vengono prodotti da una riputazione senza taccia, il timore di odj che il delitto può suscitare , finalmente le operazioni della giustizia civile sono tanti mezzi di repressione indipendenti dall’ azione penale.

Queste cause, questi ostacoli, questi mezzi dì repressione sono più o meno numerosi, più o meno attivi, secondo il grado di morale civilizzazione o materiale di un dato popolo, secondo la natura e il grado di energia delle sue politiche istituzioni.

Questi sono i tre capi, ai quali debbono riferirsi tutti i risultati di un’ opera intrapresa al fine di valutare il male sociale prodotto da ogni specie di delitto. Voltacché si abbia riconosciuto, per un gran numero di delitti almeno, la forza e l’estensione delle cause impulsive, la forza degli ostacoli e quella dei mezzi di repressione indipendenti dalla legge penale, si avrà l’ espressione della gravita del colpo , che l’ impunità del delitto porterebbe all’ ordine sociale, si avrà l’ espressione del male relativo.

Queste ricerche sono una positiva obbligazione per ogni governo.

È mestieri ricercare le cause del delitto per allontanarle, gli ostacoli onde non indebolirli, i mezzi di repressione fuori della pena, onde conoscerne la forza ed approfittarne per quanto è possibile.

Ma nulla deve essere spinto al di là dei confini posti dalla ragione e dalla generale utilità. In tutte le cose il diritto è là che si oppone alla estensione esorbitante di ogni mezzo di protezione, quantunque legittimo sia nel suo principio, che in una certa misura. Il potere sociale, come ogni individuo, trovasi sovente posto fra due inconvenienti o fra due doveri. Esso è tenuto di arrestarsi nella ricerca del bene, nell’ impiago di un mezzo utile, imperocché la sua azione ferirebbe un diritto, o porterebbe danno ad un più importante dovere.

Bisogna allontanare le cause del delitto: la diminuzione rapida de’ salari ne è una. Ciò è quanto dire, che il governo potrà costringere gl’ intraprenditori, i manifatturieri a continuare una ruinosa produzione, a pagare la mano d’ opera al dissopra di quella giusta parte che a loro proviene nella distribuzione del valore del prodotto.

Anche l’ignoranza è causa di delitto. L’azione del governo , dovunque lo stato della società lo rende necessario, può esercitarsi nel modo più utile a profitto della pubblica istruzione. Che si prelevi sulle imposte una parte destinata all’ insegnamento, che si moltiplichino le scuole, che si accerti della capacità dei precettori, che si obblighino i genitori a far godere ai loro fanciulli i benefici della istruzione, che si ricompensino i diligenti allievi , che si rifiutino alcune politiche o civili facoltà agli ignoranti, niente di più giusto. Ma si oltrepasserebbero i limiti, se si strappassero di forza i figli ai genitori, se si facessero concorrere alle spese dell’ istruzione al di là dei loro mezzi, se si facesse violenza, sotto pretesto di elevare i loro figli, alle loro opinioni religiose, anche politiche.

Ma in ogni stato di causa, anche in quei paesi ove il governo può dispensarsi dall’ intervenire e por mano nella istruzione generale, il potere sociale ha cionnullameno il positivo dovere di sorvegliare ad un genere particolare d’ istruzione che si riferisca direttamente alla efficacia preventiva della legge penale.

Tutte le volte che trattasi di punire atti, il di cui male assoluto è quasi nullo e di molto inferiore al male relativo, il legislatore deve trovare i mezzi d’istruire i cittadini delle circostanze speciali e variabili, dalle quali proviene il male del delitto affinché possano apprezzarlo, e la proibizione dell’atto o la gravità della pena non sembri loro capricciosa. Non sempre è sufficiente avvertimento l’imposizione della pena. Di troppo si abusò della sanzione penale : la scala delle pene è una misura nella quale i popoli non hanno confidenza. Questa speciale istruzione è inutile per le leggi militari. La vita dei campi dà al soldato una particolare educazione, che sola basta onde fargli valutare tutto ciò che havvi di speciale nei delitti militari, e tutto quanto aumenta la gravità morale di alcuni delitti comuni , allorquando sono commessi dalla forza armata.

Medesimamente appounpopolo istrutto, le di cui leggi sono l’ opera di assemblee deliberanti , la pubblica discussione ed i giornali possono tener luogo di ogni altro mezzo d’istruzione. Ciò non pertanto non sempre avviene cosi. Più di una legge ragionevolissima fu giudicata tirannica , e lo era in effetto nella sua applicazione, imperocché essa colpiva uomini che non comprendevano il principio giustificativo della medesima. Quando si è abituati a non aver sulle labbra che le minacce, non mai la ragione, devesi forse far le meraviglie, se si è tacciati di tiranni?

Fra gli ostacoli al delitto indipendenti dalla legge penale figura in primo luogo, come mezzo di governo, la polizia.

La polizia può essere esercitata in forza di generali regolamenti e coll’ azione individuale de’ suoi agenti.

Nel primo caso essa rientra nel dominio della giustizia. Le regole di polizia formano parte della legge penale, e noi abbiamo veduto che se queste regole sono razionali, se le difese sono la vera espressione delle esigenze dell’ordine pubblico, la loro infrazione ha tutti i caratteri del delitto.

Nel secondo caso, avvi ciò che appellasi polizia propriamente detta : polizia preventiva e polizia giudiziaria , protezione dell’ordine colla sorveglianza, protezione dell’ordine a mezzo della ricerca dei delitti e de’ loro autori.

L’umana giustizia ha i suoi lati vulnerabili , la polizia propriamente detta, lo confessiamo, né ha ancora di più. È difficile assegnare alla polizia regole positive, contenere la sua azione entro confini tracciati rettamente. Essa esige una libera azione individuale, più libera, più continua e meno solenne di quella della giustizia : essa non si lascia sottomettere alle medesime forme, non sopporta le medesime guarentigie. Una troppo rigida controlleria la paralizza. Ci sembra assai dubbioso che si possa mai dirigere e contenere in un modo soddisfacente l’ azione della polizia con regole generali e positive. Essa sarà sempre o poco o troppo poco fornita di libertà.

Non può trovarsi la vera salvaguardia contro gli eccessi di una polizia preventiva che nello spirito generale del paese, nelle forme del suo governo, nella pubblicità dei dibattimenti legislativi e giudiziarj e nella libertà della stampa. Dovunque esistono queste garanzie la polizia non potrebbe essere lungo tempo turbolenta o corruttrice, né in durevole modo por mano sulla giurisdizione dei tribunali. L’ essenziale consiste a stabilire chiaramente, e senza restrizione, questo principio assoluto e dirigente in fatto di polizia , che nulla di definitivo le appartenga, che la di lei azione sulle persone e sopra le cose non possa essere che momentanea, provvisoria. È evidente che questo principio non abbraccia punto i casi della legittima difesa , sia personale, sia pubblica.

Del resto, quali che siano le difficoltà che presenta la organizzazione della polizia propriamente detta, nessuno stato non potrebbe far senza di questo mezzo di protezione ; ogni governo è responsabile, moralmente almeno, dei delitti e dei disordini che avrebbe potuto prevenire coll’ ajuto d’ una polizia compatibile colle pubbliche libertà e la sicurezza individuale.

I testi sono tratti da “Pellegrino Rossi, Trattato di diritto penale, Milano, Borroni e Scotti, 1852″: http://books.google.it/books?id=fioVAAAAQAAJ&printsec=titlepage&source=gbs_v2_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q=&f=false

Pasquino! how often do we meet this name in the history of modern Italy. The owner of this great name was a tailor, a fellow of much wit and humour. Wherever he appeared with his red broad face and the knowing twinkle of his black eyes, he was surrounded by a listening crowd whom he delighted with his jests; for, in addition to an incomparable gift of cracking a joke, he possessed the accomplishment of making faces which enforced the comical effect of his stories. Id a short time his name was considered indispensible to add point and grace to every witty concetto engendered at Rome, and this privilege continued to be attached to it even after poor Pasquino’s death. The people soon found a proper heir to his name. An old mutilated statue had been dug up opposite to the palace of Torres, and erected close by the late jester’s house. This statue raised a spirit of antiquarian curiosity among the scholars of Rome. According to some it was an Alexander, and according to others a Hercules, but the people cut the matter short by calling it Pasquino, to the honour and everlasting remembrance of the poor tailor. This marble Pasquino was in the practice of passing off his jests not only against bis neighbours, but even against the oppression of the great nobility, the depravity of the clergy and of the government itself. Whoever conceived a good idea made at once Pasquino the bearer of it to the world by writing his epigram above the neck of the statue, or upon the wall overhanging it. Some time afterwards people felt the want of an additional personage.

Not far from Pasquiuo lay another mutilated statue representing a god or an emperor. The scholars thought it was a Jupiter, but the people made him a cousin of Pasquino’s; called him Marforio the questioner, and thus began the jest of query and answer. ” Well, cousin,” asked Marforio, ” what made the clergy order the new fast day?” Pasquino answered: ” To the honour of the new tax; as the people are starving the Vatican thought to make a virtue of necessity.”

” You look very vulgar, Pasquino, why do you appear in the street with a dirty shirt?” “My washer-woman has been made a princess;” replied the censor, reflecting on the character of the Pope’s sister who, before being created a princess, was nothing else than a washer-woman. Sixtus ordered the erection of several public fountains. The next day Pasquino produced a parody of the decree beginning: 8. Q. Pontifex Maximus,—the holy father remained long in possession of this nickname. Sixtus however, vexed at this impudence, and desirous to find out and punish the offender, did not venture to remove Pasquino the favourite of the people, their modern censor and last representative of the democratical opposition. But all at once the smaller concetti were discontinued, and every question of Marforio’s was answered in verses, the powerful language of which apparently belonged to one and the same graphic pen. Important questions were agitated in this way; the government was addressed in the name of reason and justice, and the people were admonished of their rights. The two statues were thus in reality converted into two civic tribunes. The people gathered in crowds round the mute orators of this new forwu. and on’two or three occasions had abused and maltreated the Shirr! who came to remove the satirical libels in which the Pope waa by n« means spared, and of which copies were everywhere circulated.

Sixtus in his eagerness to discover the author of the epigrams made a proclamation in the’ streets, offering 2000 pistoles as a reward to him who should produce the guilty person, but no one appeared. II’- next order was to seize all poets in Rome, or those at least who were reputed to have a turn for poetry, and to lodge them during the pleasure of his Holiness in the tower of St. Augelo. To judge by the number of prisoners, one Would never have suspected that the ” Eternal City” had nourished so many votaries of the muses in her maternal lap. Some protested loudly against the intended honour, others botr- cvcr were too happy to get into prison, and have their vanity thus agreeably flattered even at the expeuce of their freedom. Among the latter was Pandolfo Norsini who, thanks to his secretary, was a clever poetaster. His heart swelled with pride to be supposed capable of giving birth to poetry, that was at once so bold and effective.—Sixtus the fifth, however, was not a man to be trifled with, and dearly had they to pay who wished to enact tho part of the ancient Roman, “patriotic and stern.” He was determined to have the guilty man in his power. Accordingly gentle means of meekness and religion were applied to in the first instance. The prisoners, after an examination before the judge, were bound over to the confessor, but still the secret was unre- vealed. Sixtus went himself to the castle of St. Angelo, ordered the prisoners into his presence, but withheld his blessing. He admonished them to name the madman who had ventured to violate the double authority and power conferred upon him by God and man, as the successor of” St. Peter and the chosen one of the Emperors. He is among you, said he; if you know him, name him, and the gates of your prison will be thrown open. You are silent. Well, let the offender come forward and declare himself, and I promise to spare his life and make him a donation of 2000 pistoles besides.

Sixtus continued for some time in an attitude of composure which contrasted curiously with the anxious expression of his keen grey eyes; surveying calmly, but with glances that pierced to the quick, the trembIing victims who stood overawed in the presence of the irritated priest, and as each met the portentous lightnings, down he sunk on his knees, and made the sign of the cross. While all remained silent t In- priest appeared to be wrapt in momentary reflection, and removing bis hand from his face which he had covered for a moment, all were struck with the sudden change in his countenance. His half sunken eyes and closely pressed lips might have led one to suppose a gay idea liad given his thoughts another turn, but soon his features lost all marks of either satisfaction or anger, and nothing remained but the humble and resigned countenance of the former cardinal Montalto. His eyes had lost their former lustre, and with a voice faltering and low he murmured these words: ” My children, it is in the power of God Almighty alone to penetrate into the thoughts of man,—he alone reads the human heart. But I, the humble servant of the servants of God, I can discover the truth only through human means—to-morrow then the rack will do its work.”

On the following day marched through the streets of Rome the myrmidons of the rack : they walked two by two, the instruments of torture in their hands, their eyes tilled with pride, and joy beaming in their countenance ; for they were to perform, on this occasion, in the presence of the holy father himself. Consternation and fear preceded them ; and the silent crowd that followed, terror-struck and dismayed, stopped in front of the Palace Quirinal;—a young man alone, rushing through the dense crowd, overtook with a hasty step the torturers and entered the large colonnade before them.

The Pope was at that time presiding at the great ecclesiastical council of absolution. Near him, at the right and left, were seated on lower chairs the cardinal treasurer, the cardinal chancellor, and the cardinal vicar, and further down the rest of the cardinals in full dress and at their feet their train-bearers with the soutana and the silk gown. In the back ground stood the prelates, dirines and laymen, ready to kindle and shed forth the light of their learning whenever the Pope’s pleasure should demand it. The business of the day had proceeded some length, when three smart strokes were applied to the door, and the chamberlain entered clothed in his gown and surplice, and winding his way cautiously behind the spiritual lords stepped up to the Pope and whispered a few words into his ear. Sixtus rose, ” Princes of the Church and Prelates,” said he, addressing the congregation, let us now terminate the work of absolution and bulls; I beg your advice in an affair of no less importance, and by mine own authority I declare and constitute you a Consulta. A stranger has offered to reveal to me the name of the author of the Pasquinades levelled against me. He is at the door, let him come in. As to the prisoners now under accusation, the cardinal vicar will, in my name and place, preside at the torture with which it is my pleasure immediately to begin. The more ways and means there are to get at the truth, the better.”

The informer was conducted into the hall; he was the same young nan who had hastened into the palace before the servants of the torture. In his countenance was no trace of the brand which indicates the low and vulgar soul of the informer, but virtue and a sound rigour of mind were impressed on it in indelible characters. The most experienced physiognomist would have been unable to detect in this noble face the expression of disorderly desires, but on the contrary might have discovered the evidence of deep feelings and a lofty soul. It was not with, out a feeling of embarrassment and fear that he presented himself to the assembly. By the direction of the chamberlain he made a low reverence on entering the hall, a second when in the middle of the floor, and bowed his knee when permitted to approach the Pope. Sixtus gave him the apostolic blessing, ordered, as customary, a chap- let to be presented to him, and commenced the enquiry by asking him —” What is your name ?” He mentioned it ” What is your occupation ?” The young man hesitating to reply, a prelate said—”He is ananuensis of Signor Paudolfo Norsini, my neighbour.” ” Well,” said the Pope to the chamberlain, “let Signor Pandolfo be put to the question.” ” Stop,” said the informer, ” I am here for no other purpose than to spare my master and the other accused persons the pain of the rack which none of them has deserved, for the guilty person is before you. I am he !” At the same time he opened a bundle of papers ; ” here are Satires, Epigrams, exclusively my own work ; here are the original papers; passages altered and improved with my own hand : no soul was acquainted with my secret; I myself fixed the Pasquinades to the statue. I speak nothing but truth, so help me God. I know not whether I have acted wisely, but having doomed myself to be judged by man, I shall submit to the consequences of an action, the honour or the shame of which I will share with none.”

Sixtus the fifth, the most implacable and remorseless of all priests, did not disdain the pleasure of keeping his victims trembling in his grasp. Accomplished in the art of dissimulation, be knew how to conceal the most irksome vexation; and we need not be surprised if, after describing the enormity of the crime in a laboured speech full of fine sentences, he succeeded in kindling in the breast of the unfortunate young man a spark of hope with no other intention than to render more painful the blow he was about to inflict. He had pledged his most sacred word, that if the guilty should name himself, not only should he receive the reward of 2000 pistoles, but that his life also should not in the least degree be endangered. As for the 2000 pistoles our poet refused them, but his life he accepted it as a boon; prepared to lose it, he received it back with heartfelt delight. Life is sweet at the age of twenty-three; it is doubly sweet when poetry touches all around us with its magic wand, and every object breathes the language of love, and all flushes with life, when we still trust the word of man, on the face of woman. His life, which be felt as given to him a second time by the hand of God was for him boon which filled his heart with the utmost exultations of jov. Tears of joy rushed down his cheeks, and his proud heart was subdued in gratitude and repentance. Noble and generous youth I couldst thou believe in the sincere forgiveness of a priest ? Looking with secret remorse on the late productions of his satirical pen, he was about to bend his knees in thanksgiving, when Sixtus uttered his terrible sentence. ” I have promised you life, but never impunity. To spare the head of a libeller or of a murderer, and thus allow them to do more mischief, would be to act in the teeth of humanity and justice. Is it enough to have broken the pen or the dagger ? Were they the true instruments in the perpetration of the crime ? Are there not other pens and daggers to be had? No! the spirit, the mind alone is the criminal. You may deprive the wretch of his liberty, but are you sure that the wicked fruit of the mind will not break forth through the walls of a dungeon. Therefore the body must not be incarcerated, but the spirit. Is that your opinion ?” A few heads bowed assent; but the Pope, sure of his red-caps’ submission, did not pay any attention to it, and went on: ” Thus then we pass our irrevocable sentence:—that tongue which spoke against us slanderous and damnable words shall be cut out with the knife; the hand which wrote them down, and the hand which was instrumental in posting them up, shall be both cut away, and nailed on Pasquino’s statue. Thus the spirit of this man, his spirit sweltering with poison, shall henceforth become a weapon harmless to all but himself.”

Sixtus rose; the cardinals in silent horror gazed on the terrible man whom they had elected their chief, and in the distant part of the hall, prelates and divines whispered to one another; some glancing timidly on the poet, others doubting whether legal forms had been infringed, or whether the execution would be public. The officiating chamberlain ran through the hall in all directions, delivering and receiving messages; and in the meanwhile the tale of woe and horror had transpired abroad. The condemned stood motionless as if entranced. A cold perspiration ran down his forehead, while his limbs were quivering. One while he cast round a glance, struggling, as it were, to awake from a heavy dream. He clasped his hands and touched the chaplet with his lips, while his whole frame was convulsed: but suddenly grasping his light cloak which lay on his shoulders, he wrapped himself up with the fearful looks of a man who is ready to receive the pointed dagger in his breast. Sixtus was just in the act of descending from the Estrada to leave the assembly, when a piercing shriek, a woman’s voice, was repeatedly beard through the palace. This moanful, heart-rending voice instilled a shuddering into the hearts of all present. Sixtus himself was struck and stopt at the first utterance of the shriek-; the unhappy youth lifted up his head, a fearful paleness overspread his countenance; be listened for some time to this voice, which becoming fainter died gradually away; now it was heard no more. His foot struck furiously the ground, he raised his hand towards the Pope, as if commanding him to stop. He darted towards him a glance in which rage and contempt were mingled, indicating to all who could read it, that now he would fling his curse on the cruel hoary man; but the fearful battle of his feelings had subdued his powers; his quivering lips refused to give utterance to one word. Sixtus, the cardinals respectfully following behind, walked out with a firm composed step; and the wretched youth, overpowered by the raging tempest in his breast, fell senseless into the arms of the executioner. -

Text from “ H. Nachot, Pasquino and Marforio” in The Border magazine, Nov 1831-Dec 1832, Vol. I, Berwick, Whittacker and Co. (London), 1833. To read the original text: http://books.google.it/books?id=Cq5PAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA275&dq=pasquino+and+marforio&lr=&as_brr=1&ei=mZ-SSvj5C5iwMu6vsaMH#v=onepage&q=&f=false

I join these two because they generally go together, one being a consequence of the other: for it is the strong attachment to particular persons that makes men averse against hearkening to others, and less attentive to mind what is said, than who said it. Nature made us extremely credulous in our infancy until the cautions learned from our parents and tutors have armed us with an inflexibility to whatever contradicts the principles imbibed from them, or if we become refractory to parents and tutors it is commonly owing to the suggestions of some seducer, to which we have given an easy reception: thus in both cases we disregard one person, only because another has gained our entire confidence.

But the terms of my present subject do not relate solely to the credit found with us by other persons, they extend likewise to all kinds of evidence presenting to the thought which are made to lose their just weight by the fondness we have for whatever they tend to invalidate : so that we become incredulous upon some points by being too credulous of others, for the same prejudice that draws down one scale must necessarily raise up the other. This truth stands exemplified in persons of all denominations: the bigot and the free-thinker, the orthodox and the sectary, the courtier and the patriot, the lover, the projector, and the schemist will receive whatever favours their humour upon the slightest evidence, and reject whatever thwarts it though coming with the strongest.

For there are three causes of the errors we commit, one the want of sufficient lights to inform our judgment or of sagacity to discern them : this may draw us into some present inconveniences, but cannot affect our main concern; the errors will be mere errors without carrying anything blame – able in them ; they may excite pity or perhaps a smile, but can draw censure from none, except those whose censure we may justly despise. Another is the want of resolution to execute what our judgment clearly discerns to be right: this is only to be excused by the imbecility of human nature, and where such excuse cannot be pleaded, is indeed a fatal error which we must strive to rectify by the exercises of self-denial and vigilance before recommended. The third is an unlucky custom we fall into of blinding the judgment by shutting out some of the lights that would flow in upon it, and magnifying others with the glass of eagerness to contemplate them : this though a fault of the Will is such a one as no man stands totally exempt from, for it proceeds often from secret motives which we are not aware of, nor is it easy to know when we ought to give our assent and when to withhold it, or when the scale hitches in the briers of prejudice ; therefore it behoves us to be very attentive in looking about for such impediments, and careful to loosen them when discovered.

But it will be asked to what purpose we are exhorted to give, or withhold our assent? is not assent involuntary, the act of the objects before us, not of the mind ? can any man with all his efforts dissent from the truth that two and two make four, or assent to their making five ? All this is very true; nevertheless, though we cannot command assent, we may many times command the means that will infallibly work it: as a man cannot help reading the page he looks upon, nor see things otherwise than are there contained, yet he may shut the book or turn to any other page he pleases, and so choose what he shall see, although he be purely passive in the faculty of vision.

Assent belongs to propositions, and is an additional perception over and above those of the terms contained in them, commonly called an opinion or judgment; for though Thomas be taller than John, they may both stand before me, and I may have a full view of their persons, yet without observing which of them is the taller, that is, without framing any mental proposition concerning their height to which I may assent. And among the objects we are daily conversant with, there are a thousand judgments might be passed upon them which never come into our heads, nor indeed is it possible they should all find room there : therefore besides the power we have by our hands, our eyes, or our memory, to brine; objects before us, we have likewise a choice of what propositions we shall form out of the materials in our reflection.

But our present subject stands concerned with such propositions only as occur spontaneously to our thoughts, or are suggested by other persons; yet even here we have a choice in what manner we shall receive them, whereon the assent they shall gain very frequently depends. For except in things very familiar to our acquaintance, where the judgment has been joined in association with the terms, it does not rise immediately upon inspection, but they must be held in contemplation some little time before it will follow : and as our ideas fluctuate for a while both in strength and colours, the determination will be very different according as taken from them in their highest or their lowest state. Therefore in all arguments, whether occurring to the thought or suggested by another, a man must aid himself to come at the decision, by givmg them a due consideration and waiting till the fluctuation ends.

The manner of proceeding herein is what I take to be understood by giving or withholding assent, which is done hastily or fairly according as you strive to fix a colour, while they are transient, or stay till they fix of themselves ; for you neither can nor ought to give any other assent, than that which results naturally from the colours of y^ur ideas. But the colour of our ideas is often affected by the mixture of others standing in company with them ; therefore if you hold one set in your thoughts to the exclusion of all others, they may have a very different aspect from what they would, had you given those others admittance.

Thus assent may be wrongfully given or withheld two ways, either by a partial choice of the objects you will contemplate, or by fixing your judgment upon them at some particular moment during their fluctuation of colour; as a witness deposing positively to a fact will be credited if you refuse to hear other testimony by the weight of which he may be overborne, or may appear to prove a point if you stop him short as soon as he has related the circumstances tending to confirm it, without suffering him to proceed in the rest of his evidence, which might make the contrary manifest.

This is innocently practised every day in that temporary persuasion we assume in reading a poem, a fable, or a novel, where we imagine incidents to be true while going on with the story, but whenever admitting our old ideas to return again into view, we presently know the whole to be a fiction. The same is done in following the rule laid down by Tully for an Orator, that he should make his client’s case his own : and that prescribed by Horace to such as would touch the passions, which he says they cannot do without putting on the very sentiments they would inspire. So likewise in study and deliberation it is often useful to imagine things for a while otherwise than they really are, for a false supposition may let in lights for our better discernment of the truth.

Yet there is some limitation to this power of temporary persuasion, for though one may imagine Fortunatus to possess a purse in which he shall always find ten guineas immediately after he has emptied it, yet we could not imagine him endued with a faculty of making twice ten guineas to be a hundred, or any other number he should want: and though we might fancy a Fairy causing a house to rise at once out of the ground with a stroke of her wand, or contract Paul’s church to the size of a pea, yet while continuing in its own dimensions we could never conceive her enclosing it within a nutshell: which shows that we cannot create a new colour in our ideas or our appearances, but can only catch such as they take in their fluctuations by some similitude with things we have seen.

Therefore poetry, whose province lies chiefly in fiction, nevertheless is restrained to probabilities, that is such things as imagination can suppose to be real: and for the same reason as we grow up we become less and less delighted with extravagant tales, because to children the common works of men appear conjuration and miracle, so that the marvellous and the preternatural is nothing strange to them, for they can always find something similar in their apprehension among the things they have seen.

By frequently supposing things true we may bring ourselves to believe them true, the temporary persuasion settling into a fixed one. This happens not so often in facts supposed already past, as in the expectation of similar events likely to fall out in the world. For though the probability of incidents required in fiction be no more than a possibility, yet it implies a possibility that the like may happen again, which being continually fed upon in the imagination, will turn into a high degree of probability.

Hence springs the mischief done to such as are much conversant in plays or novels, for having perpetually filled their head with ideas of Strephons and Phillises, they expect to find a faithful nymph or swain in whatever their fancy sets upon; the charming creature whose beauteous form or engaging prattle strikes irresistibly must needs be possessed of all valuable perfections ; the discovery of a prince stolen away in his cradle, or the sudden death of a rich uncle, or some extraordinary chance that has happened in the world before, and so may happen again, may reconcile parents, set all to rights, and prove they have made a lucky choice, which will do full as well as if they had made a wise one.

Hence likewise the spirit of gaming, for luck may run on one side for a month together, and if it may why should it not ? hence the fury of lotteries, for though the possibility of each ticket getting the great prize be no more than one in sixty thousand, yet by continual ruminating upon this little shrimp of a possibility, it is commonly swelled into a probability to be depended upon so far as to lay schemes for disposing of the produce.

For the most part we are led to dwell upon suppositions by the pleasure they give the imagination ; therefore it is a common observation, that men easily believe what they wish to be true, for they first suppose it to be true as matter of entertainment, until by frequency of supposal it grows into a persuasion: for we can very seldom trace our judgments up to their first principles, therefore the character of truth they have used to bear in our thoughts is an evidence of their being true, and it is not easy to remember whether such character was affixed by a continual amusing supposition, or by solid conviction. In some tempers imagination takes the contrary turn, they ruminate constantly upon the things they dread, and always suppose the worst that may happen : this practice not only increases evils by drawing up their strongest colours, but likewise magnifies chances, raising a bare possibility into an imminent danger. Where either of these habits have been contracted, it is the hardest matter in the world to admit a supposal that does not tally with them : the sanguine man can scarce form an imagination of anything that may cross his desires, nor the melancholy man of anything that can give him comfort.

But this stiffness of the faculty is a main obstacle against our following the golden rule, wherein we must be aided by a readiness of supposing ourselves in the condition and circumstances of another : it contracts our notions by rendering us incapable of entering for a moment into others of a different kind : it makes everything strange and absurd that we were not familiarly acquainted with before ; and it retards our reasoning, which cannot effectually go on without giving opposite sentiments their turn to possess our imagination singly, until they come to their full colour before we set them in comparison with their antagonists.

Therefore it is a very valuable art, hard to be learned but well worth the pains of acquiring, to suspend our desires, our prepossessions, our customary trains and former judgments for so long as is requisite, and be able to fix our attention upon things the most opposite to them : for without this we shall never attain a perfect impartiality nor true freedom of thought, and if we could accomplish this, though we might still remain liable to involuntary mistakes, we should never more pass a faulty judgment. However, as such entire command over imagination is not to be gained, it behoves us to be constantly suspicious of inclination and prejudice, to observe which way they draw, to make allowances for their attraction, and even to stir up a partiality against them which may suffice to counterbalance their weight.

But it may be asked, is there not a presumption in favour of old opinions ? This I never have denied, nor would have them called in question upon every slight objection suggested, nor even cast aside when questioned, unless the opposite weights visibly preponderate; for while the balance hangs even, or keeps nodding to and fro, the presumption ought still to prevail. I do not pretend to lay down rules for directing when an examination ought to be entered upon, which perhaps might be impossible, at least is past my skill, therefore must be left to everv man’s discretion: I only say that when he does think fit to enter upon it, he cannot keep his imagination too open for receiving every consideration his own sagacity or that of another person can suggest, and giving them room to expand with all the colours they are capable of exhibiting. During this operation the former judgments ought only to suspend their action, but not to lose their vigour, which will be wanted when they come to be called to mind again in order to make a fair comparison between them and their opponents.

For there is a defect in the faculty when it cannot distinguish between a supposition made to be examined into, and an approved truth, nor estimate the strength of opposite evidences confronted together in their full colours, nor can give fair play to one without its quite obscuring the other. Persons who labour under this infirmity are perpetually wavering; they have a hundred different opinions in a minute, or rather never have any opinion at all, but wander in a labyrinth of doubts without ever coming to a determination that they can confide in.

But some confidence in our judgment is absolutely necessary in time of action, for else it will be of no use to us, nor shall we ever proceed steadily and vigorously to complete any design : and in seasons of deliberation it ought not to be parted with during the time of deliberating, nor until some decision be maturely formed upon which we may place the like confidence. For if a suggestion occurs that the measures I have resolved upon may be wrong, I shall still presume them right until fully satisfied of the contrary; and if the business requires immediate dispatch so that there is not time for obtaining such satisfaction, I shall pursue them without heeding the suggestion.

Nor is it needful the judgment should be founded on demonstration to deserve our confidence, for this is very rarely to be found by the human understanding upon matters of greatest importance in prudence and practice : therefore it is expedient to study the art of judging accurately upon probabilities, which where they can be clearly discerned, are a sufficient ground for confidence to remain with them, until new lights break in or circumstances alter, whereon a new judgment may be formed with the like accuracy. ,It is the vain expectation of absolute certainty that keeps men continually wavering and irresolute, for being afraid of trusting to anything that has not such certainty, and being able to find it nowhere, they live in a round of doubts without settling upon any one point: but some courage as well as caution is requisite to secure a freedom of thought, and open a passage to proficiency in any science.

But you must not always take people at their word when they talk much of doubting, for this language is often used as a civiller way of contradicting than telling you bluntly that you are in an error, which they would be ready enough to do if they were not afraid of putting you out of humour. If you observe those people who pretend to be fullest of doubts you will find them most fond of that positive phrase, I will venture to say, and they employ both expressions with equal propriety, for as they never doubt of a thing without being perfectly sure it is false, so they never venture to say, unless when confident they run no hazard of being confuted.

I am apt to think there never yet has really been such a monster in the world as a thorough sceptic; but he that doubts of what is agreed to by everybody else, does it upon being fully possessed of notions that never found admittance in any other head’: and there is an air of positivenrss in all scepticism, an unreserved confidence in the strength of those arguments that are alleged to overthrow all the knowledge of mankind.

Thus partial judgment springs from a feebleness either to retain former decisions in their original vigour, or to give due consideration to matters opposite to them; the one renders us credulous, and the other incredulous. This weakness being natural can never be totally cured, but may be helped by good management, therefore the blame lies in not applying our diligence to work as much amendment as is feasible.

The first care should be to make our decisions maturely, for it is common through mere laziness to take them up in haste before they are half formed, and then there always remains a latent suspicion which renders them unable to maintain their ground against any specious opposition : but where there is a consciousness of the best information possible having been taken, it fixes their colours beyond hazard of being faded by the approach of other objects. Then with respect to such of them as are of importance in our conduct or our future reasonings, the next point is to habituate the imagination to cast them up spontaneously with the same lively vigour wherein they were delivered to her by the understanding, which is what I have called turning conviction into persuasion. By this means we shall become less credulous of other persons, of the suggestions of passion and fancy, or appearances of the senses.

For avoiding the other extreme it will be expedient to bear in mind that our surest decisions may possibly have deceived us, for there is nothing so certain as that we know nothing with infallible certainty: in the next place to accustom ourselves to observe and examine upon a fair opportunity offering, and acquire a readiness to depart from old notions upon cogent reasons: I know such practice may sometimes endanger the simple being imposed upon by artful persons, but there is something lying within the sphere of every one’s observation, and if he does not exercise himself therein he can never learn, because all learning implies some alterati.m of the judgment: for a sense of our ignorance and an aptness to learn upon information suited to our capacity I take to be the two best preservatives against incredulity. But it will be needful to stand always upon the guard against passion, inclination, and every habitual bias, for they will bring on a distempered weakness upon the faculties more hurtful than the natural; and I conceive it is in the freedom from those, in an exemption from tena- ciousness of old notions and fondness for new ones, that sound judgment and discretion consist.

Text from “ Abraham Tucker, The light of nature pursued”, Vol. II, London, Thomas Tegg and Son, 1837. To read the entire and original text: http://books.google.it/books?printsec=titlepage&id=ADBkAAAAMAAJ#v=onepage&q=&f=false