De arte praedicatoria

These authorities admonish us to justice: Love justice, you who judge the earth;¹ likewise: I have done judgment and justice, do not hand me over to those who slander me.² Likewise: Blessed is the man who will dwell in wisdom, and who will meditate on justice.³ Likewise: Judge for the fatherless and the humble, that man may no longer presume to magnify himself upon the earth.⁴

You must be careful, O man, in how you examine a case, lest you embitter judgment with hatred, inflame it with cruelty, soften it with love of money, or shrink from it out of fear. Do not let the purple of the rich man move you, nor the sackcloth of the poor; walk the royal road, do not turn aside to the right by softening judgment, nor to the left by exaggerating punishment. It is not cruelty to punish guilt, but justice; it is not tyranny, but the judgment of divine righteousness. But beware lest, in casting out the splinter from another's eye, you fail to see the beam in your own. Do not wish to expose another's fall while neglecting your own downfall; do not tend another's sickness while setting aside your own illness, lest it be said to you: Physician, heal yourself.⁵ Hear what the Lord says to the Pharisees accusing the adulteress: He who is without sin, let him cast the first stone at her.⁶ If you, a sinner, judge another sinner, you condemn yourself. O man, with what face do you accuse in another what you find more serious in yourself? With what countenance do you judge your neighbor, when you know that you yourself deserve harsher judgment?

Justice becomes a prince when it is cut off from every vice, kept within its due bounds, and surrounded by companions: that uprightness may accompany it, so that it does not stray from the right in judging; that discretion accompany it, so that it does not wander into error; that charity accompany it, so that it wields the sword of vengeance not from rancor of hatred but from zeal for justice; it must use mercy, lest justice turn into cruelty; and deliberation, so that it weighs and considers the penalty for a long time. Hence Seneca says: "He who condemns quickly comes close to condemning gladly; he who punishes his subjects too much comes close to punishing unjustly; to rule with moderation is praiseworthy." Nature itself proves that there ought to be a king, as can be learned from other animals over whom nature has placed a king, such as bees; yet nature did not wish this king to be fierce, nor to seek vengeance persisting to a great degree. It also withholds his anger and leaves him unarmed, because, as Seneca says, bees are the most irascible and, for their size, the most combative of creatures, and they leave their stingers in the wound, while the king himself is without a sting, standing as an example for great matters. It should shame us not to draw lessons from these animals, since the mind of man ought to be all the more moderate the more powerfully it is able to do harm.

Whoever is endowed with justice will, with Moses, pass with dry feet through the sea of the world's vices reddened with blood. This is the rod by which the rock, struck, pours forth streams, which makes the stony hearts of subjects overflow into rivers of virtue. This is the winnowing fan by which the grain is separated from the chaff, the furnace in which silver is separated from dross, the sword by which the living is separated from the dead, the iron by which the healthy is divided from the diseased; for against the disease of sin, a biting plaster must be applied, lest the excessive corruption of vices spread uncured, and lest unpunished iniquity revive to increase crimes. This is the measure by which we must measure punishments and weigh merits. This is what grants each his own right, while the common good is preserved. For sometimes punishment must be relaxed on account of scandal to others; sometimes punishment must be increased, so that it serves as a warning to others. This is the medicine for vices, the antidote for sins. This is the sword that defends both parts of man; the body from outward injuries, the soul from inward troubles. This is the stone with which David struck Goliath, and freed Israel from servitude. Without discretion, this is a sword in the hand of a madman; without power, it is a sword in the hand of a cripple; without mercy, it is a sword in the hand of a tyrant. The exercise of justice must be held with the utmost discretion, so that we do not judge from suspicion, but rather from uprightness. Condemn no one before judgment; first prove, and then judge; for it is not the one accused, but the one convicted, who shall be guilty.