"Warning is, in ordinary cases, the principal end of punishment; but it is not the only end. To remove the offender, to preserve society from those dangers which are to be apprehended from his incorrigible depravity is often one of the ends...In the case of a powerful and wicked statesman, it is infinitely more important: so important, as alone to justify the utmost severity" (Macaulay, 332)
Here is another excerpt from the miscellaneous writings of Thomas Babington Macaulay. This one is taken from the review of "The Constitutional History of England, from the Accession of Henry VII to the Death of George II," written by Henry Hallam in 1827. Macaulay's lengthy comments on two volume work appeared in the Edinburgh Review of September, 1828. As with the Macaulay article I posted a few months ago that dealt with the Dalrymple family, this fragment is taken from the three volumes of Macaulay's Essays and Poems published in New York by Hurst & Co. of 122 Nasau St. The date of publication is nowhere to be found in any of the volumes. See pages 330-332. The Hallam piece runs from page 310-387.
Substitute the name Clinton for that of Strafford throughout the following paragraphs and you will have made antique political speech relevant to present American political realities - at least so far as the character sketch and remedy executed by England's legislative body. There are certainly some parallels to be extrapolated from the following text.
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Many enemies of public liberty have been distinguished by their private virtues. But Strafford was the same throughout. As was the statesman, such was the kinsman, and such was the lover. His conduct towards Lord Morris is recorded by Clarendon. For a word which could scarcely be called rash, which could not have been made subject of an ordinary civil action, the Lord
Lieutenant dragged a man of high rank, married to a relative of the saint about whom he whimpered to the Peers, before a tribunal of slaves. Sentence of death was passed. Everything but death was inflicted. Yet the treatment which Lord Ely experienced was still more scandalous. That nobleman was thrown into prison, in order to compel him to settle his estate in a manner agreeable to his
daughter-in-law, whom, as there is every reason to believe, Strafford debauched. These stories do not rest on vague report. historians most partial to the minister admit their truth and censure them in terms which, though too lenient for occasion, are still severe. These facts are alone sufficient to justify the appellation with which Pym branded him,"wicked Earl."
In spite of all Strafford's vices, in spite of all his dangerous projects, he was certainly entitled to the benefit of the law; but of the law in all its rigor; of the law according to the utmost strictness of the letter, which killeth. He was not to be torn in pieces by a mob, or stabbed in the back by an assassin. He was not to have punishment meted out to him from his own iniquitous measure. But if justice in the whole range of its wide armory, contained one weapon which could pierce him, that weapon his pursuers were bound, before God and man, to employ.
"if he may find mercy in the law, 'tis his: if none,
Let him not seek't of us."
Such was the language which the Commons might justly use.
Did then the articles against Strafford strictly amount to high treason? Many people, who know neither what the articles were, nor what high treason is, will
answer in the negative, simply because the accused person, speaking for his life, took that ground of defence. The Journals of the Lords show that the Judges were consulted. They answered, with one accord, that the articles on
which the Earl was convicted, amounted to high treason. This judicial opinion, even if we suppose It to have been erroneous, goes far to justify the Parliament. The judgment pronounced in the Exchequer Chamber has always been urged by the apologists of Charles in defence of his conduct respecting ship-money. Yet on that occasion there was but a bare majority in favor of the party at whose pleasure all the magistrates composing the tribunal were removable. The decision in the case of Strafford was unanimous in as far as we can judge,
it was unbiassed; and, though there may be room for hesitation, we think on the whole that it was reasonable. "It may be remarked," says Mr. Hallam," that the fifteenth article of the impeachment, charging Strafford with raising money by his own authority, and quartering troops on the people of Ireland, in order to compel their obedience to his unlawful requisitions, upon which, and upon one other article, not upon the whole matter, the Peers voted him guilty,
does, at least approach very nearly, if we may not say more to a substantive treason within the statute of Edward the Third, as a levying of war against the King." This most sound and just exposition has provoked a very ridiculous reply. "It should seem to be an Irish construction this," says an assailant of Mr. Hallam, "which makes the raising money for the King's service, with his knowledge, and by his approbation, to come under the head of levying war on the King, and therefore to be high treason." Now, people who undertake to write on points of constitutional law should know, what every attorney's clerk and every forward schoolboy on an upper form knows, that, by a fundamental maxim of our polity, the King can do no wrong; that every court is bound to suppose his conduct and his sentiments to be, on every occasion, such as they ought to be ; and that no evidence can be received for the purpose of setting aside this loyal and salutary presumption. The Lords, therefore, were bound to take it for
granted that the King considered arms which were unlawfully directed against his people as directed against his own throne.
The remarks of Mr. Hallam on the bill of attainder, though, as usual, weighty and acute, do not perfectly satisfy us. He defends the principle, but objects to the severity of the punishment. That, on great emergencies, the State may justifiably pass a retrospective act against an offender, we have no doubt whatever. We are acquainted with only one argument on the other side, which has
in it enough of reason to bear an answer. Warning, it is said, is the end of punishment. But a punishment inflicted, not by a general rule, but by an arbitrary discretion, cannot serve the purpose of a warning. It is therefore useless; and useless pain ought not to be inflicted. This sophism has found its way into several books on penal legislation. It admits, however, of a very simple refutation. In the first place, punishments ex post facto are not altogether
useless even as warnings. They are warnings to a particular class which stand in great need of warnings, to favorites and ministers. They remind persons of this description that there may be a day of reckoning for those who ruin and enslave their country in all the forms of law. But this is not all. Warning is, in ordinary cases, the principal end of punishment; but it is not the only end. To remove the offender, to preserve society from those dangers which are to be apprehended from his incorrigible depravity is often one of the ends. In the case of such a knave as Wild, or such a ruffian as Thurtell, it is a very important end. In the case of a powerful and wicked statesman, it is infinitely more important: so important, as alone to justify the utmost severity, even though it were certain that his fate would not deter others from imitating his example. At present, indeed, we should think it extremely pernicious
to take such a course, even with a worse minister than Strafford, if a worse could exist; for, at present, Parliament has only to withhold its support from a Cabinet to produce an immediate change of hands. The case was widely different in the reign of Charles the First. That Prince had governed during eleven years without any Parliament; and, even when Parliament was sitting, had supported Buckingham against its most violent remonstrances.