CHAPTER XII.



OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF A MISCHIEVOUS ACT.



§ 1. Shapes in which the mischief of an act may show itself.



I. Hitherto we have been speaking of the various articles or objects on 

which the consequences or tendency of an act may depend: of the bare act 

itself: of the circumstances it may have been, or may have been supposed to 

be, accompanied with: of the consciousness a man may have had with respect 

to any such circumstances: of the intentions that may have preceded the act: 

of the motives that may have given birth to those intentions: and of the 

disposition that may have been indicated by the connexion between such 

intentions and such motives. We now come to speak of consequences or 

tendency: an article which forms the concluding link in all this chain of 

causes and effects, involving in it the materiality of the whole. Now, such 

part of this tendency as is of a mischievous nature, is all that we have any 

direct concern with; to that, therefore, we shall here confine ourselves.



II. The tendency of an act is mischievous when the consequences of it are 

mischievous; that is to say, either the certain consequences or the 

probable. The consequences, how many and whatsoever they may be, of an act, 

of which the tendency is mischievous, may, such of them as are mischievous, 

be conceived to constitute one aggregate body, which may be termed the 

mischief of the act.



III. This mischief may frequently be distinguished, as it were, into two 

shares or parcels: the one containing what may be called the primary 

mischief; the other, what may be called the secondary. That share may be 

termed the primary, which it sustained by an assignable individual, or a 

multitude of assignable individuals. That share may be termed the secondary, 

which, taking its origin from the former, extends itself either over the 

whole community, or over some other multitude of unassignable individuals.



IV. The primary mischief of an act may again be distinguished into two 

branches: 1. The original: and, 2. The derivative. By the original branch, I 

mean that which alights upon and is confined to any person who is a sufferer 

in the first instance, and on his own account: the person, for instance, who 

is beaten, robbed, or murdered. By the derivative branch, I mean any share 

of mischief which may befall any other assignable persons in consequence of 

his being a sufferer, and no otherwise. These persons must, of course, be 

persons who in some way or other are connected with him. Now the ways in 

which one person may be connected with another, have been already seen: they 

may be connected in the way of interest (meaning self-regarding interest) or 

merely in the way of sympathy. And again, persons connected with a given 

person, in the way of interest, may be connected with him either by 

affording support to him, or by deriving it from him.[1]



V. The secondary mischief, again, may frequently be seen to consist of two 

other shares or parcels: the first consisting of pain; the other of danger. 

The pain which it produces is a pain of apprehension: a pain grounded on the 

apprehension of suffering such mischiefs or inconveniences, whatever they 

may be, as it is the nature of the primary mischief to produce. It may be 

styled, in one word, the alarm. The danger is the chance, whatever it may 

be, which the multitude it concerns may in consequence of the primary 

mischief stand exposed to, of suffering such mischiefs or inconveniences. 

For danger is nothing but the chance of pain, or, what comes to the same 

thing, of loss of pleasure.



VI. An example may serve to make this clear. A man attacks you on the road, 

and robs you. You suffer a pain on the occasion of losing so much money:[2] 

you also suffered a pain at the thoughts of the personal ill-treatment you 

apprehended he might give you, in case of your not happening to satisfy his 

demands.[3] These together constitute the original branch of the primary 

mischief, resulting from the act of robbery. A creditor of yours, who 

expected you to pay him with part of that money, and a son of yours, who 

expected you to have given him another part, are in consequence 

disappointed. You are obliged to have recourse to the bounty of your father, 

to make good part of the deficiency. These mischiefs together make up the 

derivative branch. The report of this robbery circulates from hand to hand, 

and spreads itself in the neighbourhood. It finds its way into the 

newspapers, and is propagated over the whole country. Various people, on 

this occasion, call to mind the danger which they and their friends, as it 

appears from this example, stand exposed to in travelling; especially such 

as may have occasion to travel the same road. On this occasion they 

naturally feel a certain degree of pain: slighter or heavier, according to 

the degree of ill-treatment they may understand you to have received; the 

frequency of the occasion each person may have to travel in that same road, 

or its neighbourhood; the vicinity of each person to the spot; his personal 

courage; the quantity of money he may have occasion to carry about with him; 

and a variety of other circumstances. This constitutes the first part of the 

secondary mischief, resulting from the act of robbery; viz. the alarm. But 

people of one description or other, not only are disposed to conceive 

themselves to incur a chance of being robbed, in consequence of the robbery 

committed upon you, but (as will be shown presently) they do really incur 

such a chance. And it is this chance which constitutes the remaining part of 

the secondary mischief of the act of robbery; viz. the danger.



VII. Let us see what this chance amounts to; and whence it comes. How is it, 

for instance, that one robbery can contribute to produce another? In the 

first place, it is certain that: it cannot create any direct motive. A 

motive must be the prospect of some pleasure, or other advantage, to be 

enjoyed in future: but the robbery in question is past: nor would it furnish 

any such prospect were it to come: for it is not one robbery that will 

furnish pleasure to him who may be about to commit another robbery. The 

consideration that is to operate upon a man, as a motive or inducement to 

commit a robbery, must be the idea of the pleasure he expects to derive from 

the fruits of that very robbery: but this pleasure exists independently of 

any other robbery.



VIII. The means, then, by which one robbery tends, as it should seem, to 

produce another robbery, are two. 1. By suggesting to a person exposed to 

the temptation, the idea of committing such another robbery (accompanied, 

perhaps, with the belief of its facility). In this case the influence it 

exerts applies itself, in the first place, to the understanding. 2. By 

weakening the force of the tutelary motives which tend to restrain him from 

such an action, and thereby adding to the strength of the temptation.[4] In 

this case the influence applies itself to the will. These forces are, 1. The 

motive of benevolence, which acts as a branch of the physical sanction.[5] 

2. The motive of self-preservation, as against the punishment that may stand 

provided by the political sanction. 3. The fear of shame; a motive belonging 

to the moral sanction. 4. The fear of the divine displeasure; a motive 

belonging to the religious sanction. On the first and last of these forces 

it has, perhaps, no influence worth insisting on: but it has on the other 

two.



IX. The way in which a past robbery may weaken the force with which the 

political sanction tends to prevent a future robbery, may be thus conceived. 

The way in which this sanction tends to prevent a robbery, is by denouncing 

some particular kind of punishment against any who shall be guilty of it: 

the real value of which punishment will of course be diminished by the real 

uncertainty: as also, if there be any difference, the apparent value by the 

apparent uncertainty. Now this uncertainty is proportionably increased by 

every instance in which a man is known to commit the offense, without 

undergoing the punishment. This, of course, will be the case with every 

offense for a certain time; in short, until the punishment allotted to it 

takes place. If punishment takes place at last, this branch of the mischief 

of the offense is then at last, but not till then, put a stop to.



X. The way in which a past robbery may weaken the force with which the moral 

sanction tends to prevent a future robbery, may be thus conceived. The way 

in which the moral sanction tends to prevent a robbery, is by holding forth 

the indignation of mankind as ready to fall upon him who shall be guilty of 

it. Now this indignation will be the more formidable, according to the 

number of those who join in it: it will be the less so, the fewer they are 

who join in it. But there cannot be a stronger way of showing that a man 

does not join in whatever indignation may be entertained against a practice, 

than the engaging in it himself. It shows not only that he himself feels no 

indignation against it, but that it seems to him there is no sufficient 

reason for apprehending what indignation may be felt against it by others. 

Accordingly, where robberies are frequent, and unpunished, robberies are 

committed without shame. It was thus amongst the Grecians formerly.[6] It is 

thus among the Arabs still.



XI. In whichever way then a past offense tends to pave the way for the 

commission of a future Hence, whether by suggesting the idea of committing 

it, or by adding to the strength of the temptation, in both cases it may be 

said to operate by the force or influence of example.



XII. The two branches of the secondary mischief of an act, the alarm and the 

danger, must not be confounded: though intimately connected, they are 

perfectly distinct: either may subsist without the other. The neighbourhood 

may be alarmed with the report of a robbery, when, in fact, no robbery 

either has been committed or is in a way to be committed: a neighbourhood 

may be on the point of being disturbed by robberies, without knowing any 

thing of the matter. Accordingly, we shall soon perceive, that some acts 

produce alarm without danger: others, danger without alarm.



XIII. As well the danger as the alarm may again be divided, each of them, 

into two branches: the first, consisting of so much of the alarm or danger 

as may be apt to result from the future behaviour of the same agent: the 

second, consisting of so much as may be apt to result from the behaviour of 

other persons: such others, to wit, as may come to engage in acts of the 

same sort and tendency.[7]



XIV. The distinction between the primary and the secondary consequences of 

an act must be carefully attended to. It is so just, that the latter may 

often be of a directly opposite nature to be the former. In some cases, 

where the primary consequences of the act are attended with a mischief, the 

secondary consequences be may be beneficial, and that to such a degree, as 

even greatly to outweigh the mischief of the primary. This is the case, for 

instance, with all acts of punishment, when properly applied. Of these, the 

primary mischief being never intended to fall but upon such persons as may 

happen to have committed some act which it is expedient to prevent, the 

secondary mischief, that is, the alarm and the danger, extends no farther 

than to such persons as are under temptation to commit it: in which case, in 

as far as it tends to restrain them from committing such acts, it is of a 

beneficial nature.



XV. Thus much with regard to acts that produce positive pain, and that 

immediately. This case, by reason of its simplicity, seemed the fittest to 

take the lead. But acts may produce mischief in various other ways; which, 

together with those already specified, may all be comprised by the following 

abridged analysis.



Mischief may admit of a division in any one of three points of view. 1. 

According to its own nature. 2. According to its cause. 3. According to the 

person, or other party, who is the object of it.[8] With regard to its 

nature, it may be either simple or complex.[9] 2: when simple, it may either 

be positive or negative: positive, consisting of actual pain: negative, 

consisting of the loss of pleasure. Whether simple or complex, and whether 

positive or negative, it may be either certain or contingent. When it is 

negative, it consists of the loss of some benefit or advantage: this benefit 

may be material in both or either of two ways: 1. By affording actual 

pleasure: or, 2. By averting pain or danger, which is the chance of pain: 

that is, by affording security. In as far, then, as the benefit which a 

mischief tends to avert, is productive of security, the tendency of such 

mischief is to produce insecurity. 2. With regard to its cause, mischief may 

be produced either by one single action, or not without the concurrence of 

other actions: if not without the concurrence of other actions, these others 

may be the actions either of the same person, or of other persons: in either 

case, they may be either acts of the same kind as that in question, or of 

other kinds. 3. Lastly, with regard to the party who is the object of the 

mischief, or, in other words, who is in a way to be affected by it, such 

party maybe either an assignable[10] individual, or assemblage of 

individuals, or else a multitude of unassignable individuals. When the 

object is an assignable individual, this individual may either be the person 

himself who is the author of the mischief, or some other person. When the 

individuals who are the objects of it, are an unassignable multitude, this 

multitude may be either the whole political community or state, or some 

subordinate division of it. Now when the object of the mischief is the 

author himself, it may be styled self-regarding: when any other party is the 

object, extra-regarding: when such other party is an individual, it may be 

styled private: when a subordinate branch of the community, semi-public: 

when the whole community, public. Here, for the present, we must stop. To 

pursue the subject through its inferior distinctions, will be the business 

of the chapter which exhibits the division of offenses.[11]



The cases which have been already illustrated, are those in which the 

primary mischief is not necessarily otherwise than a simple one, and that 

positive: present, and therefore certain: producible by a single action, 

without any necessity of the concurrence of any other action, either on the 

part of the same agent, or of others; and having for its object an 

assignable individual, or, by accident an assemblage of assignable 

individuals: extra-regarding therefore, and private. This primary mischief 

is accompanied by a secondary: the first branch of which is sometimes 

contingent and sometimes certain, the other never otherwise than contingent: 

both extra-regarding and semi-public: in other respects, pretty much upon a 

par with the primary mischief: except that the first branch, viz. the alarm, 

though inferior in magnitude to the primary, is, in point of extent, and 

therefore, upon the whole, in point of magnitude, much superior.



XVI. Two instances more will be sufficient to illustrate the most material 

of the modifications above exhibited.



A man drinks a certain quantity of liquor, and intoxicates himself. The 

intoxication in this particular instance does him no sort of harm: or, what 

comes to the same thing, none that is perceptible. But it is probable, and 

indeed next to certain, that a given number of acts of the same kind would 

do him a very considerable degree of harm: more or less according to his 

constitution and other circumstances: for this is no more than what 

experience manifests every day. It is also certain, that one act of this 

sort, by one means or other, tends considerably to increase the disposition 

a man may be in to practise other acts of the same sort: for this also is 

verified by experience. This, therefore, is one instance where the mischief 

producible by the act is contingent in other words, in which the tendency of 

the act is no otherwise mischievous than in virtue of its producing a chance 

of mischief. This chance depends upon the concurrence of other acts of the 

same kind; and those such as must be practiced by the same person. The 

object of the mischief is that very person himself who is the author of it, 

and he only, unless by accident. The mischief is therefore private and 

self-regarding.



As to its secondary mischief, alarm, it produces none: it produces indeed a 

certain quantity of danger by the influence of example: but it is not often 

that this danger will amount to a quantity worth regarding.



XVII. Again. A man omits paying his share to a public tax. This we see is an 

act of the negative kind.[12] Is this then to be placed upon the list of 

mischievous acts? Yes, certainly. Upon what grounds? Upon the following. To 

defend the community against its external as well as its internal 

adversaries are tasks, not to mention others of a less indispensable nature 

which cannot be fulfilled but at a considerable expense. But whence is the 

money for defraying this expense to come? It can be obtained in no other 

manner than by contributions to be collected from individuals; in a word, by 

taxes. The produce then of these taxes is to be looked upon as a kind of 

benefit which it is necessary the governing part of the community should 

receive for the use of the whole. This produce, before it can be applied to 

its destination, requires that there should be certain persons commissioned 

to receive and to apply it. Now if these persons, had they received it, 

would have applied it to its proper destination, it would have been a 

benefit: the not putting them in a way to receive it, is then a mischief. 

But it is possible, that if received, it might not have been applied to its 

proper destination; or that the services, in consideration of which it was 

bestowed, might not have been performed. It is possible, that the 

under-officer, who collected the produce of the tax, might not have paid it 

over to his principal: it is possible that the principal might not have 

forwarded it on according to its farther destination; to the judge, for 

instance, who is to protect the community against its clandestine enemies 

from within, or the soldier, who is to protect it against its open enemies 

from without: it is possible that the judge, or the soldier, had they 

received it, would not however have been induced by it to fulfil their 

respective duties: it is possible, that the judge would not have sat for the 

punishment of criminals, and the decision of controversies: it is possible 

that the soldier would not have drawn his sword in the defense of the 

community. These, together with an infinity of other intermediate acts, 

which for the sake of brevity I pass over, form a connected chain of duties, 

the discharge of which is necessary to the preservation of the community. 

They must every one of them be discharged, ere the benefit to which they are 

contributory can be produced. If they are all discharged, in that case the 

benefit subsists, and any act, by tending to intercept that benefit, may 

produce a mischief. But if any of them are not, the benefit fails: it fails 

of itself: it would not have subsisted, although the act in question (the 

act of non-payment) had not been committed. The benefit is therefore 

contingent; and, accordingly, upon a certain supposition, the act which 

consists in the averting of it is not a mischievous one. But this 

supposition, in any tolerably-ordered government, will rarely indeed be 

verified. In the very worst ordered government that exists, the greatest 

part of the duties that are levied are paid over according to their 

destination: and, with regard to any particular sum, that is attempted to be 

levied upon any particular person upon any particular occasion, it is 

therefore manifest, that, unless it be certain that it will not be so 

disposed of, the act of withholding it is a mischievous one. 



The act of payment, when referable to any particular sum, especially if it 

be a small one, might also have failed of proving beneficial on another 

ground: and, consequently, the act of nonpayment, of proving mischievous. It 

is possible that the same services, precisely, might have been rendered 

without the money as with it. If, then, speaking of any small limited sum, 

such as the greatest which any one person is called upon to pay at a time, a 

man were to say, that the non-payment of it would be attended with 

mischievous consequences; this would be far from certain: but what comes to 

the same thing as if it were, it is perfectly certain when applied to the 

whole. It is certain, that if all of a sudden the payment of all taxes was 

to cease, there would no longer be anything effectual done, either for the 

maintenance of justice, or for the defence of the community against its 

foreign adversaries: that therefore the weak would presently be oppressed 

and injured in all manner of ways, by the strong at home, and both together 

overwhelmed by oppressors abroad. Upon the whole, therefore, it is manifest, 

that in this case, though the mischief is remote and contingent, though in 

its first appearance it consists of nothing more than the interception of a 

benefit, and though the individuals, in whose favour that benefit would have 

been reduced into the explicit form of pleasure or security, are altogether 

unassignable, yet the mischievous tendency of the act is not on all these 

accounts the less indisputable. The mischief, in point of intensity and 

duration, is indeed unknown: it is uncertain: it is remote. But in point of 

extent it is immense; and in point of fecundity, pregnant to a degree that 

baffles calculation.



XVIII. It may now be time to observe, that it is only in the case where the 

mischief is extra-regarding, and has an assignable person or persons for its 

object, that so much of the secondary branch of it as consists in alarm can 

have place. When the individuals it affects are uncertain, and altogether 

out of sight, no alarm can be produced: as there is nobody whose sufferings 

you can see, there is nobody whose sufferings you can be alarmed at. No 

alarm, for instance, is produced by nonpayment to a tax. If at any distant 

and uncertain period of time such offence should chance to be productive of 

any kind of alarm, it would appear to proceed, as indeed immediately it 

would proceed, from a very different cause. It might be immediately 

referable, for example, to the act of a legislator, who should deem it 

necessary to lay on a new tax, in order to make up for the deficiency 

occasioned in the produce of the old one. Or it might be referable to the 

act of an enemy, who, under favour of a deficiency thus created in the fund 

allotted for defense, might invade the country, and exact from it much 

heavier contributions than those which had been thus withholden from the 

sovereign.



As to any alarm which such an offence might raise among the few who might 

chance to regard the matter with the eyes of statesmen, it is of too slight 

and uncertain a nature to be worth taking into the account.[13]



§ 2. How intentionality, &c. may influence the mischief of an act.



XIX. We have seen the nature of the secondary mischief, which is apt to be 

reflected, as it were, from the primary, in the cases where the individuals 

who are the objects of the mischief are assignable. It is now time to 

examine into the circumstances upon which the production of such secondary 

mischief depends. These circumstances are no others than the four articles 

which have formed the subjects of the four last preceding chapters: viz. 1. 

The intentionality, 2. The consciousness. 3. The motive. 4. The disposition. 

It is to be observed all along, that it is only the danger that is 

immediately governed by the real state of the mind in respect to those 

articles: it is by the apparent state of it that the alarm is governed. It 

is governed by the real only in as far as the apparent happens, as in most 

cases it may be expected to do, to quadrate with the real. The different 

influences of the articles of intentionality and consciousness may be 

represented in the several cases following.



XX. Case 1. Where the act is so completely unintentional, as to be 

altogether involuntary. In this case it is attended with no secondary 

mischief at all.



A bricklayer is at work upon a house: a passenger is walking in the street 

below. A fellow-workman comes and gives the bricklayer a violent push, in 

consequence of which he falls upon the passenger, and hurts him. It is plain 

there is nothing in this event that can give other people, who may happen to 

be in the street, the least reason to apprehend any thing in future on the 

part of the man who fell, whatever there may be with regard to the man who 

pushed him. 



XXI. Case 2. Where the act, though not unintentional, is unadvised, insomuch 

that the mischievous part of the consequences is unintentional, but the 

unadvisedness is attended with heedlessness. In this case the act is 

attended with some small degree of secondary mischief, in proportion to the 

degree of heedlessness.



A groom being on horseback, and riding through a frequented street, turns a 

corner at a full pace, and rides over a passenger, who happens to be going 

by. It is plain, by this behaviour of the groom, some degree of alarm may be 

produced, less or greater, according to the degree of heedlessness betrayed 

by him: according to the quickness of his pace, the fullness of the street, 

and so forth. He has done mischief, it may be said, by his carelessness, 

already: who knows but that on other occasions the like cause may produce 

the like effect. 



XXII. Case 3. Where the act is misadvised with respect to a circumstance, 

which, had it existed, would fully have excluded or (what comes to the same 

thing) outweighed the primary mischief: and there is no rashness in the 

case. In this case the act attended with no secondary mischief at all.



It is needless to multiply examples any farther.



XXIII. Case 4. Where the act is misadvised with respect to a circumstance 

which would have excluded or counterbalanced the primary mischief in part, 

but not entirely: and still there is no rashness. In this case the set is 

attended with some degree of secondary mischief, in proportion to that part 

of the primary which remains unexcluded or uncounterbalanced.



XXIV. Case 5. Where the act is misadvised with respect to a circumstance, 

which, had it existed, would have excluded or counterbalanced the primary 

mischief entirely, or in part: and there is a degree of rashness in the 

supposal. In this case, the act is also attended with a farther degree of 

secondary mischief, in proportion to the degree of rashness.



XXV. Case 6. Where the consequences are completely intentional, and there is 

no mis-supposal in the case. In this case the secondary mischief is at the 

highest.



XXVI. Thus much with regard to intentionality and consciousness. We now come 

to consider in what manner the secondary mischief is affected by the nature 

of the motive.



Where an act is pernicious in its primary consequences, the secondary 

mischief is not obliterated by the goodness of the motive; though the motive 

be of the best kind. For, notwithstanding the goodness of the motive, an act 

of which the primary consequences are pernicious, is produced by it in the 

instance in question, by the supposition. It may, therefore, in other 

instances: although this is not so likely to happen from a good motive as 

from a bad one.[14]



XXVII. An act, which, though pernicious in its primary consequences, is 

rendered in other respects beneficial upon the whole, by virtue of its 

secondary consequences, is not changed back again, and rendered pernicious 

upon the whole by the badness of the motive: although the motive be of the 

worst kind.[15]



XXVIII. But when not only the primary consequences of an act are pernicious, 

but, in other respects, the secondary likewise, the secondary mischief may 

be aggravated by the nature of the motive: so much of that mischief, to wit, 

as respects the future behaviour of the same person.



XXIX. It is not from the worst kind of motive, however, that the secondary 

mischief of an act receives its greatest aggravation.



XXX. The aggravation which the secondary mischief of an act, in as far as it 

respects the future behaviour of the same person, receives from the nature 

of a motive in an individual case, is as the tendency of the motive to 

produce, on the part of the same person, acts of the like bad tendency with 

that of the act in question.



XXXI. The tendency of a motive to produce acts of the like kind, on the part 

of any given person, is as the strength and constancy of its influence on 

that person, as applied to the production of such effects.



XXXII. The tendency of a species of motive to give birth to acts of any 

kind, among persons in general, is as the strength, constancy, and 

extensiveness[16] of its influence, as applied to the production of such 

effects.



XXXIII. Now the motives, whereof the influence is at once most powerful, 

most constant, and most extensive, are the motives of physical desire, the 

love of wealth, the love of ease, the love of life, and the fear of pain: 

all of them self-regarding motives. The motive of displeasure, whatever it 

may be in point of strength and extensiveness, is not near so constant in 

its influence (the case of mere antipathy excepted) as any of the other 

three. A pernicious act, therefore, when committed through vengeance. or 

otherwise through displeasure, is not near so mischievous as the same 

pernicious act, when committed by force of any one of those other 

motives.[17]



XXXIV. As to the motive of religion, whatever it may sometimes prove to be 

in point of strength and constancy, it is not in point of extent so 

universal, especially in its application to acts of a mischievous nature, 

as any of the three preceding motives. It may, however, be as universal in a 

particular state, or in a particular district of a particular state. It is 

liable indeed to be very irregular in its operations. It is apt, however, 

to be frequently as powerful as the motive of vengeance, or indeed any other 

motive whatsoever. It will sometimes even be more powerful than any other 

motive. It is, at any rate, much more constant.[18] A pernicious act, 

therefore, when committed through the motive of religion, is more 

mischievous than when committed through the motive of ill-will.



XXXV. Lastly, The secondary mischief, to wit, so much of it as hath respect 

to the future behaviour of the same person, is aggravated or lessened by the 

apparent depravity or beneficence of his disposition: and that in the 

proportion of such apparent depravity or beneficence.



XXXVI. The consequences we have hitherto been speaking of, are the natural 

consequences, of which the act, and the other articles we have been 

considering, are the causes: consequences that result from the behaviour of 

the individual, who is the offending agent, without the interference of 

political authority. We now come to speak of punishment: which, in the sense 

in which it is here considered, is an artificial consequence, annexed by 

political authority to an offensive act, in one instance, in the view of 

putting a stop to the production of events similar to the obnoxious part of 

its natural consequences, in other instances.







1. See ch. vi. [Sensibility].



2. Viz. a pain of privation. See ch. v. [Pleasures and Pains], xvii.



3. Viz. a pain of apprehension grounded on the prospect of organical pain, 

or whatever other mischiefs might have ensued from the ill treatment. Ib. 

xxx.



4. See ch. xi. [Dispositions], xl.



5. To wit, in virtue of the pain it may give a man to be a witness to, or 

otherwise conscious of, the sufferings of a fellow-creature: especially when 

he is himself the cause of them: in a word, the pain of sympathy. See ch. v. 

[Pleasures and Pains], xxvi.



6. See Hom. Odyss. L. xix. l. 395; ib. L. iii. 1. 71. Plato de Rep. L. i. p. 

576, edit. Ficin. Thucyd. L. i. -- and see B. I. tit. [Offences against 

external security].



7. To the former of these branches is opposed so much of the force of any 

punishment, as is said to operate in the way of reformation: to the latter, 

so much as is said to operate in the way of example. See ch. xiii. par. ii. 

note. 



8. There may be other points of view, according to which mischief might be 

divided, besides these: but this does not prevent the division here given 

from being an exhaustive one. A line may be divided in any one of an 

infinity of ways, and yet without leaving in any one of those cases any 

remainder. See ch. xvi. [Division] i. note.



9. See ch. v. [Pleasures and Pains] i.



10. See ch. xvi. [Division] iv. note.



11. Ch. xvi.



12. See ch. vii. [Actions] viii.



13. The investigation might, by a process rendered obvious by analogy, be 

extended to the consequences of an act of a beneficial nature. In both 

instances a third order of consequences may be reckoned to have taken place, 

when the influence of the act, through the medium of the passive faculty of 

the patient, has come to affect his active faculty. In this way 1. Evil may 

flow out ofevil: -- instance; the exertions of industry put a stop to by the 

extinction of inducement, resulting from a continued chain of acts of 

robbery or extortion. 2. Good out of evil: -- instance; habits of 

depredation put a stop to by a steady course of punishment. 3. Evil out of 

good: -- instance; habits of industry put a stop to by an excessive course 

of gratuitous bounty. 4. Good out of good: -- instance; a constant and 

increasing course of industry, excited and kept up by the rewards afforded 

by a regular and increasing market for the fruits of it.



14. An act of homicide, for instance, is not rendered innocent, much less 

beneficial, merely by its proceeding from a principle of religion, of honour 

(that is, of love of reputation) or even of benevolence. When Ravaillac 

assassinated Henry IV. it was from a principle of religion. But this did not 

so much as abate from the mischief of the act. It even rendered the act 

still more mischievous, for a reason that we shall see presently, than if it 

had originated from a principle of revenge. When the conspirators against 

the late king of Portugal attempted to assassinate him, it is said to have 

been from principle of honour. But this, whether it abated or no, will 

certainly not be thought to have outweighed, the mischief of the act. Had a 

son of Ravaillac's, as in the case before supposed,[19] merely on the score 

of filial affection, and not in consequence of any participation in his 

crime, put him to death in order to rescue him from the severer hands of 

justice, the motive, although it should not be thought to afford any proof 

of a mischievous disposition, and should, even in case of punishment have 

made such rescuer an object of pity, would hardly have made the act of 

rescue a beneficial one.



15. The prosecution of offenses, for instance, proceeds most commonly from 

one or other, or both together, of two motives, the one of which is of the 

self-regarding, the other of the dissocial kind: viz. pecuniary interest, 

and ill-will: from pecuniary interest, for instance, whenever the obtaining 

pecuniary amends for damage suffered is one end of the prosecution. It is 

common enough indeed to hear men speak of prosecutions undertaken from 

public spirit; which is a branch, as we have seen,[20] of the principle of 

benevolence. Far be it from me to deny but that such a principle may very 

frequently be an ingredient in the sum of motives, by which men are enraged 

in a proceeding of this nature. But whenever such a proceeding is engaged in 

from the sole influence of public spirit, uncombined with the least tincture 

of self-interest, or ill-will, it must be acknowledged to be a proceeding of 

the heroic kind. Now acts of heroism are, in the very essence of them, but 

rare: for if they were common, they would not be acts of heroism. But 

prosecutions for crimes are very frequent, and yet, unless in very 

particular circumstances indeed, they are never otherwise than beneficial.



16. See ch. iv. [Value].



17. It is for this reason that a threat, or other personal outrage, when 

committed on a stranger, in pursuance of a scheme of robbery, is productive 

of more mischief in society, and accordingly is, perhaps, every where more 

severely punished, than an outrage of the same kind offered to an 

acquaintance, in prosecution of a scheme of vengeance. No man is always in a 

rage. But, at all times, every man, more or less, loves money. Accordingly, 

although a man by his quarrelsomeness should for once have been engaged in a 

bad action, he may nevertheless remain a long while, or even his whole 

life-time, without engaging in another bad action of the same kind: for he 

may very well remain his whole life-time without engaging in so violent a 

quarrel: nor at any rate will he quarrel with more than one, or a few people 

at a time. But if a man, by his love of money, has once been engaged in a 

bad action, such as a scheme of robbery, he may at any time, by the 

influence of the same motive, be engaged in acts of the same degree of 

enormity. For take men throughout, if a man loves money to a certain degree 

to-day, it is probable that he will love it, at least in equal degree, 

to-morrow. And if a man is disposed to acquire it in that way, he will find 

inducement to rob, wheresoever and whensoever there are people to be robbed.



18. If a man happen to take it into his head to assassinate with his own 

hands, or with the sword of justice, those whom he calls heretics, that is, 

people who think, or perhaps only speak, differently upon a subject which 

neither party understands, he will be as much inclined to do this at one 

time as at another. Fanaticism never sleeps: it is never glutted: it is 

never stopped by philanthropy; for it makes a merit of trampling on 

philanthropy: it is never stopped by conscience; for it has pressed 

conscience into its service. Avarice, lust, and vengeance, have piety, 

benevolence, honour; fanaticism has nothing to oppose it.



19. Ch. xi. [Disposition] xv.



20. See ch. x. [Motives] xxv.