ensues. Thereupon his mind reverts to what he was told: he sees that
the warning was meant in earnest. He reflects that it must have been a
wicked thing, that lie which his father, the object of his fond
reverence, chastises so sternly. If the thing had been let pass, he
would scarcely have regarded it as wicked. Next time he is more on his
guard, not merely because he fears a beating, but because he
understands better than before that lying is wrong. The awe in which
grown-up people stand of "a red judge," is not simple fear, like that
which keeps the wolf from the flock guarded by shepherds and their
dogs: but they are alarmed into reflection upon the evil which he is
God's minister to avenge, and they are moved to keep the law, "not
only for wrath, but for conscience sake." From this we see that for
punishment to be really salutary, its justice must be manifest to the
culprit, or to the lookers on, at least in their cooler moments. A
punishment the justice of which is not discernible, may quell for the
moment, but it does not moralise, nor abidingly deter. There must be
an apparent proportion between the offence and the punishment. A
Draconian code, visiting petty offences with the severity due to high
misdemeanours, is more of an irritant than a represser of crime,
because it goes beyond men's consciences.

4. There is in every human breast a strong sense of what the learned
call _lex talionis_, and children _tit for tat_. "If a man has done to
him what he has done to others, that is the straight course of
justice;" so says the canon of Rhadamanthus, quoted by Aristotle.
(_Eth_., V., v., 3.) We have argued the fundamental correctness of
this rule. (_Ethics_, c. ix., s. iii., n. 2, p. 169.) It appears in
the divine direction given to Nod: "Whoso sheddeth man's blood, his
blood shall be shed." (Gen. ix. 6.) It appears in that popular
sentiment, which in some parts of America displays itself in the